CHAPTER VIII.

CUCKOOS--HONEY GUIDES--PLANTAIN-EATERS--WOODPECKERS--TOUCANS--BARBETS.

THE CUCKOOS--THE BUSH CUCKOOS--THE LARK-HEELED CUCKOOS, OR COUCALS--THE COMMON CUCKOO--Its Characteristics--Mrs. Blackburn’s Account of a Young Cuckoo Ejecting a Tenant--Breeding Habits--The Eggs--The Call-notes of Male and Female--Food--Its Winter Home--Its Appearance and Plumage--THE HONEY GUIDES--Kirk’s Account of their Habits--Mrs. Barber’s Refutation of a Calumny against the Bird--THE PLANTAIN-EATERS--THE WHITE-CRESTED PLANTAIN-EATER--THE GREY PLANTAIN-EATER--THE COLIES--THE WHITE-BACKED COLY--THE WOODPECKERS--How they Climb and Descend Trees--Their Bill--Do they Damage Sound Trees?--THE WRYNECKS--THE YAFFLE--THE RED-HEADED WOODPECKER--THE SPOTTED WOODPECKER--THE TOUCANS--Mr. Gould’s Account of their Habits--Mr. Waterton’s Account--The Enormous Bill--Azara’s Description of the Bird--Mr. Bates’ History of a Tame Toucan--THE BARBETS--Messrs. Marshall’s Account of the Family--Mr. Layard on their Habits.

THE SECOND ORDER OF ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.--THE CUCKOOS (_Cuculidæ_).

Within the limits of this family are comprised birds of very different habits and of very different structure, some being inhabitants of the ground and of the thick bush, whilst others are lovers of the open, and are birds of very strong flight. Without being able to climb up the trunks of trees, like our Woodpeckers, the Cuckoos possess the zygodactyle foot of the climbing bird in a very perfect degree. They differ from others of the Scansorial group by the position of the nostrils, which are placed rather low in the upper mandible, not far from the cutting edge of it. There are three sub-families of Cuckoos, distinguished by the form of the wing: the first of these has the wings short, rounded, and with from two to six, or even seven, of the primaries slightly indented in the middle. They have the feathers of the thigh close-set, and not over-hanging like those of a Hawk, as is the case with the true Cuckoos.

THE BUSH CUCKOOS (_Phænicophæinæ_).

These birds have representatives in India, Australia, and Africa, and even South America. Some of them are of very varied and beautiful plumages, and many of them reach the size of a moderate game-bird. The first genus of these Bush Cuckoos contains

THE LARK-HEELED CUCKOOS, OR COUCALS (_Centropus_).

These are remarkable for the form of the hind toe, which is furnished with a straight nail or claw, very strong, always equalling and often surpassing the length of the hind toe itself. These Lark-heeled Cuckoos do not occur in Europe, but are found all over Africa, India, and Burmah, to China, and throughout the Malayan Archipelago to Australia. They frequent the thick bush, and have a very similar call-note, which has been rendered by some observers as resembling the syllables “_bop bop_,” while on the West Coast of Africa, from their cry “_hoot, hoot_,” they have been nicknamed by the colonists the “Scotchman.” Writing of the Eyebrowed Lark-heel, Mr. Thomas Ayres says:--“This bird frequents the dense bush, and principally lives amongst impenetrable creepers, where it hunts about in search of the insects which it feeds upon; if disturbed, it flies but a short distance. The note is a loud, melancholy, cooing noise; they call most in wet weather. They are fond of getting up into trees that are covered with creeping plants, and sunning themselves; they generally fly on to the lower part, and then gradually hop upwards till they gain the top, but they can fly a very short distance at a time, and are easily caught if chased out into the open grass, though they lie very close, and it requires a good dog to find them. If disturbed, they immediately fly to the thickest cover near at hand, and commence running, like the Rails.” Mr. Ayres says that they feed on Grasshoppers, Caterpillars, and other insects; but Mr. Rickard, another excellent field naturalist, in South Africa has found a small Snake and Locusts in their stomachs, one having a small bird--a White-eye (_Zosterops_)--inside him. The Lark-heeled Cuckoos are not parasitic, like the true Cuckoos and many others: that is to say, they build their own nests, and do not employ the nests of other birds to place their eggs in. When hatched, the young birds are very curious, being covered with long hairs and bristles. In colour the Lark-heels are for the most part rufous, with black heads, but some of them are almost entirely rufous, the shafts of all the feathers much stiffened, so that the plumage lies very close, which must be of advantage to birds who have to climb a great deal amongst the lianas and creepers of tropical forests.

Of the Indian Coucal (_Centropus bengalensis_) an interesting account is given by Mr. Gammie, which affords a very good idea of the habits of these Bush Cuckoos. He says:--“This species has increased largely of late. Among grassy scrub, up to 3,500 feet, it is now abundant, where, only a few years ago, it was rarely to be found. In the earlier part of the rainy season its odd, monotonous notes are to be heard in every direction. I am not sure that the male calls, but have shot the female--as I found by dissection--when calling. It has a call of a double series of notes: ‘_whoot, whoot, whoot, whoot_;’ then, after a pause of four or five seconds, ‘_kurook, kurook, kurook, kurook_.’ The ‘whoot’ is quite ventriloquistic, sounding as if it came from a distance of six or seven yards from the bird. Before calling, it seats itself about five feet from the ground; then you see it draw its neck and body together, slightly puffing out its body-feathers, raising its back, and depressing its tail, and for every ‘whoot’ there is a violent throb of the body, as if the bird was in great pain; at the same time the motion of the throat is scarcely perceptible, and its bill is closed. Then, as if greatly relieved, it stretches itself out, the feathers fall smooth, and with open mouth and throbbing throat comes the ‘kurook,’ without the slightest attempt at ventriloquism. When searching for the caller, one must take no notice of the ‘whoot,’ but wait for the ‘kurook.’ It feeds almost entirely on Grasshoppers, and frequents the open, scrubby tracts only. I have never once seen it in larger forests.”[249]

The Malkohas are another remarkable group of the Bush Cuckoos, and are found throughout India, Ceylon, the Indo-Malayan region and islands, as far as the Celebes. The genera differ principally in the shape of the nostril; and although differences of structure are usually considered sufficient characters on which to found distinctions of genus, some ornithologists are of opinion that the variation in the form of the nostril only separates them as species. One of the most remarkable of these Bush Cuckoos is the _Carpococcyx radiatus_ of Borneo, which, when alive, is stated by Mr. Wallace to resemble a Pheasant in appearance and gait. It lives much on the ground, and is often caught by the Malays in the snares which they set for Argus Pheasants and other game-birds. In Madagascar they are represented by the Couas (_Sericosomus_), of which there are no less than ten species found in that island. They are the inhabitants of the Palestrina forests, where their monotonous notes are often heard. The cry of the Blue Cuckoo is said by Messrs. Pollen and Van Dam to resemble the syllables _cir-cir-cir_, while that of the Crested Coua (_S. cristatus_) is _toc-toc-toc_. When calling, the latter bird raises its crest and flaps its tail and wings. Its flight is difficult and generally descending, and the bird never flaps its wings when it flies. It is ordinarily seen on the lower branches of the trees, and loves to repose during the great heat of the day in the sheltered parts of the trees, resting on the branches and puffing out its feathers.

In America there are several allied forms of Bush Cuckoos, many of which frequent the ground, one of the most interesting being the _Geococcyx californianus_, which is called the “Road-runner,” and is a bird of such powers of running that it is sometimes hunted on horseback and pursued with hounds, a test of fleetness in which it is said often to make a longer race than its pursuers anticipated.

THE COMMON CUCKOO (_Cuculus canorus_).

The true Cuckoos, of which the English bird is the type, differ from the Bush Cuckoos in being more _Accipitrine_, or Hawk-like, in their appearance, and having long thigh-feathers, like the majority of the birds of prey. The nostril is swollen and rounded. It would be easy to write a complete book on this mysterious bird, whose habits and cry have rendered it an object of interest in all countries and from very early times. The popular superstition concerning the nestling--that the young Cuckoo, when sufficiently grown, and having no further use for the little foster-parent to whose care it owed its life and well-being, used to devour the latter--has often been held up as an “awful example” to ungrateful children who become a burden and a shame to their parents when they are unable to provide for them any longer. The idea of the young Cuckoo devouring its protector is no doubt erroneous, and, as Brehm puts it, has arisen from the oft-recurring spectacle of a little Wren or a diminutive Gold-crest placing food in the wide-gaping mouth of the young Cuckoo, which, indeed, without much stretch of the imagination, might swallow it. In Mr. Gould’s “Birds of Great Britain” there is a picture showing the _dénouement_ of the young Cuckoo’s story, when, still callow and blind, it is represented as disposing of some unfortunate little Tree Pipits which were hatched along with it in the same nest. This incident was sketched by Mrs. Hugh Blackburn, who thus describes the occurrence:--“The nest (which we watched last June, after finding the Cuckoo’s egg in it) was that of the common Meadow Pipit (Titlark, Mosscheeper), and had two Pipit’s eggs besides that of the Cuckoo. It was below a heather bush on the declivity of a low abrupt bank or highland hill-side, in Moidart. At one visit the Pipits were found to be hatched, but not the Cuckoo. At the next visit, which was after an interval of forty-eight hours, we found the young Cuckoo alone in the nest, and both the young Pipits lying down the bank, about ten inches from the margin of the nest, but quite lively after being warmed in the hand. They were replaced in the nest beside the Cuckoo, which struggled about till it got its back under one of them, when it climbed backwards directly up the open side of the nest, and hitched the Pipit from its back on to the edge. It then stood quite upright on its legs, which were straddled wide apart, with the claws firmly fixed half-way down the inside of the nest among the interlacing fibres of which the nest was woven, and stretching its wings apart and backwards, it elbowed the Pipit fairly over the margin so far that its struggles took it down the bank instead of back into the nest. After this the Cuckoo stood a minute or two, feeling back with its wings, as if to make sure that the Pipit was fairly overboard, and then subsided into the bottom of the nest. As it was getting late, and the Cuckoo did not immediately set to work on the other nestling, I replaced the ejected one and went home. On returning next day, both nestlings were found dead and cold out of the nest. I replaced one of them, but the Cuckoo made no effort to get under it and eject it, but seated itself contentedly on the top of it. All this I find accords accurately with Jenner’s description of what he saw. But what struck me most was this: the Cuckoo was perfectly naked, without the vestige of a feather, or even a hint of future feathers; its eyes were not yet opened, and its neck seemed too weak to support the weight of its head. The Pipits had well-developed quills on the wings and back, and had bright eyes, partially open; yet they seemed quite helpless under the manipulations of the Cuckoo, which looked a much less developed creature. The Cuckoo’s legs, however, seemed very muscular, and it appeared to feel about with its wings, which were absolutely featherless, as with hands; the spurious wing (unusually large in proportion) looked like a spread-out thumb. The most singular thing of all was the direct purpose with which the blind little monster made for the open side of the nest, the only part where it could throw its burden down the bank. I think all the spectators felt the sort of horror and awe at the apparent inadequacy of the creature’s intelligence to its acts that one might have felt at seeing a toothless hag raise a ghost by an incantation. It was horribly ‘uncanny’ and ‘gruesome!’”

The above account of Mrs. Blackburn’s graphically describes the ejection of its foster-brothers and sisters by the nestling Cuckoo; and this brings us to the next part of the subject, viz., the breeding habits of this curious bird. As is well known of the hen bird, it never makes its own nest, but it is believed that during its stay in Europe it lays altogether about eight eggs, all of which are deposited in the nest of some other bird. The variation in the colour of the Cuckoo’s eggs is very great, from a white speckled egg, like that of the Water Wagtail, or the dark brown mottled egg of a Lark or Pipit, to the blue egg of the Hedge Sparrow; while Mr. Dresser states that he has seen even green eggs, and is of opinion that the same female will lay similarly coloured eggs. The researches of ornithologists during recent years sufficiently prove that the female Cuckoo lays her egg upon the ground, and then deposits it in the nest of a bird whose egg resembles the one she has just laid; hence it is probable that a hen Cuckoo killed with a broken egg in its mouth is the rightful owner of the latter, and has not been sucking the eggs of some other bird, as the species is often supposed to do. The writer has on many occasions found Cuckoos’ eggs in the nest of the Water Wagtail in Berkshire, the latter bird being frequently selected by the Cuckoo as her victim; and he can affirm that the eggs were in all cases similar to those of the Wagtail, but were a little larger in size. In due time the young Cuckoo is hatched, the rightful owners of the nest ejected, and for weeks the powers of the unhappy foster-parents are exercised to the utmost in feeding the gaping and constantly-complaining occupant of their domain. Even when the young Cuckoo has outgrown the nest, and is strong enough to fly about, he is still attended by his foster-parents. So great is the instinct of the young Cuckoo to receive food from other birds, that a specimen in the Zoological Gardens which managed to live through the winter and put on his full plumage in the following spring, on the appearance of a Hedge Sparrow in the same aviary, fluttered down, and with drooping wings and open bill solicited food from his small companion.

The reason for the parasitic habits of the Cuckoo is hard to discover, but it appears probable that the number of males greatly exceeds that of the females, and one observer has calculated that the preponderance of the former sex over the latter is as much as twenty-five to one. This would seem to be too large an estimate, but the proportion is probably about five males to one female. The latter may not only be distinguished by its somewhat darker plumage, and a certain red colour on the chest (which is more apparent when the bird is alive), but has a somewhat different note from that of her mate, and calls _cuckoo_ in a much sharper and less emphasised way than the male bird. Thus, if the call of the female be represented by the syllables _cŭck-oo_, the responsive utterance of the male would be _coo-coo_. The female has also another call-note, which may be described as “whittling,” and is well expressed by Brehm as _kwikwikwik_, the sound of which is quite sufficient to set all the male Cuckoos within hearing cuckoo-ing with might and main. Thus it happened to the writer, on a still, quiet evening in spring a few years ago, to be fishing beneath a large elm-tree on the river Thames, when a female Cuckoo flew into the topmost boughs and uttered her peculiar note. From four different points of the compass she was answered by male birds, who one and all directed their flight toward the tree where she was perched. A tremendous scrimmage ensued, and apparently a fight took place, but, being suddenly alarmed, they all took flight in different directions. It is certain that during the breeding season the Cuckoo is a very passionate bird, and loves to call until, from sheer hoarseness, he is obliged to stop; sometimes his cry comes from the middle of a thickly-wooded tree, at other times he will sit on a bare dead branch, or swing in the breeze from the top of a fir-tree. The female bird is more retiring and keeps nearer the ground, so that it is possible to shoot her by hiding behind a tree as she hunts after insects near one of their favourite haunts. The same plurality of males has been observed by the author during the spring at Avington Park, in Hampshire; and on one occasion, when the female was shot, the note of the males was scarcely heard again, as if they had disappeared from the vicinity.

Brehm remarks:[250] “The note itself, and the manner in which it is emitted, are typical of the bird’s habits and character. The same abruptness, insatiability, eagerness, the same rage, are noticeable in its whole conduct. The Cuckoo is a greedy feeder, and a discontented, ill-conditioned, passionate fellow: in short, a decidedly unamiable bird. Its food consists entirely of insects and their larvæ; young Cuckoos, alone, will sometimes eat berries; Cockchafers, Fern-beetles, Moths, and Dragon-flies are favourite morsels, and Caterpillars (especially the hairy species, which no other birds ever devour) being preferred. The hairs of these creatures cling so close to the inner membranes of the stomach that the use of the magnifying glass is necessary to convince one that they do not form part and parcel of that organ. Its keen sight enables the Cuckoo to see Caterpillars from a great distance, when it flies quickly to the spot, seizes them, and returns to its perch, without spending much time over the operation or climbing about after them. The bird is so constantly on the move that it always manages to obtain sufficient food--which is saying a great deal, for its stomach is large and its powers of digestion almost unlimited. Thus it would be a most useful bird, did it not cause so much damage while breeding.”

The Cuckoo resembles a Hawk so much in flight that even a practised eye sometimes fails to distinguish it from a Kestrel at first sight. There is, however, a certain pointed look about the body of the bird which distinguishes it from a Hawk; if near enough, the flat, obtuse head of the latter making the bird appear as if it had no head at all.

Lastly, one word as to the winter home of the Cuckoo. It is always known in England as the “harbinger of spring,” and with the exception of the Swift, who very rarely makes a mistake in the period of his advent, there is no bird whose arrival may be considered so certain a sign of that genial season of the year. Just as the Swifts, however, sometimes come in for some cold weather, which proves fatal to many of them, so the Cuckoos have been known to have been detained by cold winds in the south of England, where they have remained in flocks until the weather was more seasonable and they could distribute themselves over the country. They are seldom heard of in the height of summer; and, as the old rhyme says, “in June he changes his tune, in August go he must.” And it seems certain that this bird leaves England early in that month, but not entirely, as young birds--perhaps the later offspring--are seen as late as September. The old ones arrive in Egypt on their way south before the young birds, which are somewhat later; and in Berkshire the writer shot three young Cuckoos during the first week in August, a few years ago, out of a flock of birds on migration, which, like himself, had apparently taken shelter under a wood from an approaching thunderstorm. These specimens are now in the British Museum, and are of slightly different ages. The Cuckoo is a well-known bird at the Cape of Good Hope during the English winter, and specimens are in the national collection. It is much rarer on the west coast of Africa, but was shot by Governor Ussher near Cape Coast Castle, evidently on migration. The main route of the birds visiting the Cape in winter is, however, evidently down the Nile Valley and along the east coast to the Cape Colony and South Africa generally. A second line of migration extends to India, and it probably goes further, and has been found in the island of Celebes. In Asia, however, and Australia, there are several species of Cuckoo, very like the English bird, but smaller and differing in voice, which have not been sufficiently studied to enable one to say whether they are actually distinct or not.

The Cuckoo when adult is ashy-grey, with a white breast, barred across with narrow lines of greyish-black; the tail is long, barred with white on the outer feathers, and spotted with white on the centre ones; the bill is black, with a little yellow at the gape and at the base of the lower mandible; the feet and the eye are yellow; the length of the bird is about thirteen inches. The female is a trifle smaller, and has the chest slightly tinged with rufous. The young bird is quite different, being blackish, mottled with yellow and grey, and having a good deal of white about the hind neck. Rarely in England, but more often on the Continent, the Cuckoo is red instead of grey, and this is called the “hepatic” plumage. It is found also in Owls, Goatsuckers, and a few other birds, and exists in almost all the true Cuckoos.

THE THIRD FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.

THE HONEY GUIDES (_Indicatoridæ_).

These constitute a small family of Scansorial birds allied to the Cuckoos, and, like the latter, they are parasitic, and lay their eggs in other birds’ nests. Eleven species are known, of which eight are peculiar to Africa, one is found in the Himalaya Mountains, one in the Malayan Peninsula, and one in Borneo. The Asiatic members of the group are extremely rare, and our knowledge of the habits of these birds is derived from a study of the African species: so that it is not yet known whether the Asiatic Honey Guides deserve the name of _Indicator_, which is applied to the birds on account of their being “indicators,” or “pointers out,” of Bees’ nests containing honey. Dr. Kirk thus described their habits in the Zambesi district:--“The Honey Guide is found in forests, and often far from water, even during the dry season. On observing a man, it comes fluttering from branch to branch in the neighbouring trees, calling attention. If this be responded to--as the natives do by whistling and starting to their feet--the bird will go in a certain direction, and remain at a little distance, hopping from one tree to another. On being followed, it goes farther; and so it will guide the way to a nest of Bees. When this is reached, it flies about, but no longer guides; and then some knowledge is required to discover the nest, even when pointed out to within a few trees. I have known this bird, if the man, after taking up the direction for a little, then turns away, come back and offer to point out another nest in a different part. But if it does not know of two nests, it will remain behind. The difficulty is that it will point to tame Bees in a bark hive as readily as to those in the forest. This is natural, as the Bee is the same; the bark hive--‘Musinga,’ as it is named--being simply fastened up in a tree, and left for the Bees to come to. The object the bird has in view is clearly the young Bees. It will guide to nests having no honey, and seems equally delighted if the comb containing the grubs be torn out, when it is seen pecking at it.” Many of the natives of South Africa believe that the bird will occasionally guide the traveller, through sheer malice, to a Leopard or an Elephant; but on this point there seems some little doubt, to judge from a letter of Mrs. Barber, an accomplished lady and good observer in South Africa:--“What I wrote to you in a former letter is the opinion of many old bee-hunters in this part of the country, who have no faith in the popular belief that leading to the Leopard is done on purpose. My nine brothers, who were all brought up in this country, were all of them great hunters, as well as sportsmen; and during all the years of their experience, while they were living at Tharfield, where Bees’ nests were exceedingly plentiful, and where they were constantly in the habit of following these birds, never once did the Honey Guide ever lead them _purposely_ to any noxious animal. Many times, in following the bird through dense woods, have they started various kinds of creatures; but if they did not neglect the bird for the purpose of hunting, she would continue her flight towards the Bees’ nest, regardless of the startled animals. One of my brothers once, while following a Honey Guide through a dense forest near the Kowie, passed directly through a drove of wild Pigs. They were, of course, more frightened than he was, and rushed about in every direction; but my brother knowing the popular belief, and wishing to test it, took not the slightest notice of the wild Pigs, but passed on, keeping his eye on the bird, who went steadily on her way, until she arrived at the nest she intended to show, regardless of the Pigs. I have other reasons for not believing the story. Why should the Honey Guide waste her time in leading people to Leopards, Jackals, Wolves, and so forth? These creatures are not her natural enemies; she would gain nothing by doing it--no advantage whatever; and I have ever found that in nature there is nothing done in vain, or in an empty, purposeless manner. There is always a reason for the peculiar habits and actions of birds and animals of all kinds; and therefore, why should a bird which does not even rear her own young, and has not the care of a nest, fear or care about these animals? Why should the Honey Guide, unlike all animals, do this thing without any reason for doing it? And again, when the bird has arrived at the nest she intends to show, there is an alteration in the notes of her voice. An old bee-hunter knows this in an instant, and knows when he ought to commence searching for the nest. Now, this alteration never takes place when animals of various kinds are startled in passing through the forest while following the bird. Hence I conclude that she does not intend to show where these creatures are, or the alteration in her voice would take place.” Some of the Indicators are not of the same use in guiding to Bees’ nests, and are consequently held in less repute. They are all birds of similar coloration, being generally of a dull grey, tinged with yellow or olive, and they vary considerably in size, the larger species, such as _I. major_ and _I. sparrmanni_, measuring about eight inches in length; while the smallest species, _I. exilis_, from the Gaboon, does not exceed four inches. Although coming very close to the Cuckoos in the natural classification, the small bill, the thick-set, stout plumage, and the nine primaries in the wing, in addition to their peculiar habits, easily distinguish the Honey Guides as a separate family.

THE FOURTH FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.

THE PLANTAIN-EATERS (_Musophagidæ_).

These may be called a strictly Ethiopian family of birds, every single member being found in Africa, and nowhere else. They have very much the appearance of game-birds, and are all remarkable for their beautiful crests, which they are able to elevate or depress at will. Although belonging to the Scansorial, or climbing birds, they do not always keep their toes in pairs, but being of a lively disposition they hop continually from bough to bough, and the outer toe is seen as often placed in front with the others as it is directed backwards along with the hind toe. With the exception of the Grey Plantain-eaters, all the other species have beautiful red primaries; and the writer was informed by the late African traveller, Jules Verreaux, that the bird often gets caught in violent showers during the rainy season, when the whole of this brilliant red colour in the wing-feathers gets washed out, and the quills become pinky-white, and after two or three days the colour is renewed, and the wing resumes its former beauty.

THE FIRST SUB-FAMILY OF THE MUSOPHAGIDÆ.--THE MUSOPHAGINÆ, OR TRUE PLANTAIN-EATERS.

THE WHITE-CRESTED PLANTAIN-EATER (_Corythaix musophaga_).

This is perhaps the best known of the whole family of these curious birds, being the commonest species in South Africa, where it is plentiful in the forest districts of the Knysna, and the south coast as far as Natal, and the wooded districts of the Eastern Transvaal. It is known by the name of the Louri, or Lory, and the following brief account of its habits is given by Mr. Layard:[251]--“The Plantain-eater feeds on fruits, and frequents the highest trees, rarely, if ever, descending to the ground, over which it can, however, travel with great rapidity if brought down by a shot. The motions of this species are very graceful and light, and performed with an ease and rapidity that delight the eye of the beholder. Strange to say, though we inquired carefully, we never could obtain any information respecting the nidification of this beautiful and common bird. Mr. Atmore, however, states that the eggs are white; but this must be from hearsay, as he writes: ‘How difficult it is to find these forest birds’ nests! The Lories are breeding now, but for the life of me I cannot find a nest. The young ones go in troops, and are delicious eating; the old ones in pairs. We never shoot specimens out of a troop except for the pot.’ An old forester told him that the eggs were white, both the latter and the nests being like those of Pigeons. Mr. Rickard says: ‘I once found an egg in a bird I shot at East London (January 27th); it was pure white, and the size of a tame Pigeon’s.’ Mr. Bowker writes: ‘I once found a Louri’s nest. It was just like a Dove’s, built of sticks laid horizontally, and about the size of a large dinner-plate, placed about ten feet from the ground in the centre of a round bush. The old bird flew out as I walked up. I found five young birds in the nest; they were almost full-grown, but their tails rather short and stumpy, crest just showing, but I cannot remember whether the red on the wing was showing or not. On my getting up to the nest they all flew out, and were killed by my Dogs before I could come to the rescue. The bush was twenty or thirty yards from the edge of a large forest, and I was rather surprised at this nest, as I had been told they built in hollow trees.’” In size this species is about nineteen inches long; the general colour is green, with a broad white tip to the feathers of the crest, the abdomen and vent are blackish, the quills brilliant carmine.

The false Touracoes, as Dr. Sclater calls them, do not possess the red colouring of the wings, but are for the most part of a uniform grey colour. The best known species is

THE GREY PLANTAIN-EATER (_Schizorhis concolor_).

This is also found in South Africa, but in different districts to the White-crested Plantain-eater. Where the range of the latter ceases that of the present bird begins, and it is found throughout the Matabele country and the Transvaal as far as the Zambesi, and westwards through Damara Land to Angola. Mr. Andersson writes:--“It is partial to localities abounding in large trees; and when prominently perched, with crest erect, it is not unlike a gigantic Coly. It also climbs and flies like the Colies, which it strongly resembles in its general habits. It is usually found in small flocks, and feeds on berries and seeds, especially those of mistletoe and of other parasitical plants, and also on fruits, young shoots, and insects. The Damaras call this species ‘Ongoro-oroquena,’ from the extraordinary and almost human cry with which it frequently startles the traveller who is passing near its perch. It is sometimes very easy to approach these birds, whilst at other times they are so shy that they will defy the utmost exertions which may be made to obtain them. On January 5th, 1867, I obtained three eggs of this species, of a dull bluish-white colour, at Omapja, from a boy, who told me that the nest which contained them was composed of sticks roughly put together, and situated in a tree at some distance from the ground; and on March 1st I met with a nest in Ondonga placed in a tree, but at no great elevation, which also contained three eggs, much incubated.” Dr. Exton, also, who has been through the Matabele country, writes as follows:--“In travelling through the Bechuana country one often comes upon a party of five or six of these birds, hiding from the mid-day heats under the sheltered portions of dense foliage near the centre of a large tree. Whilst yet undisturbed, the crest lies flat on the head, and can only be seen as a tuft projecting from the occiput. But their first act on becoming aware of an intruder is to run along the branches, either to the summit of the tree or to the extremity of a branch commanding a good look-out, where, with crest fully erected and well thrown forward, they keep up a constant reiteration of their note. If but little alarmed they move rapidly from branch to branch, frequently jerking up the crest, and assuming an attitude of attention. Again, after flight from one tree to another, on alighting, they first rest on a branch, with the body somewhat horizontal and the tail drawn nearly to the perpendicular, as if assuring themselves of their equilibrium, and then raising the body, elongating their neck, and at the same time elevating the crest, they seem to take an observation as to the security of their new position. So much is this a habit of the bird, that during the conversational difficulties of my earlier intercourse with the Bechuanas, when inquiring for the nest of Schizorhis (the native name of which is ‘Ma-quaai’), as soon as it dawned upon the mind of a native what bird I meant he has imitated its note, accompanied by a sudden jerking up of the hand, with his fingers extended to the utmost, as if at the same time to mimic the elevation of the crest. Dr. Sclater mentions that ‘Mr. J. J. Monteiro, speaking of the Grey False Touraco (_S. concolor_), as observed in Benguella, expressly states that the crest-feathers are always carried erect.’ In my own experience, the observation of Schizorhis was an every-day occurrence; and, as I have stated, when undisturbed (also when in flight) very little of the crest is to be seen, but is invariably carried erect on the least alarm. I may here mention a peculiar scream of _S. concolor_. I was one day walking along a low ridge of rocks, from which I flushed an Owl--the common _Bubo maculosus_--that flew to some distance to a clump of trees. Presently I heard an agonised scream, such as is made by a young Antelope when seized by a Dog; and so exact a repetition of the sound was it that even my Dogs were deceived by it, and rushed off in the direction whence it came. I also sent a Kaffir boy, and presently followed myself, when I discovered it was the frightful scream of _Schizorhis_, of which a party were collected round the Owl I had previously disturbed, and whose presence appeared to be the exciting cause. At a later period I had a second opportunity of verifying this observation.”

THE SECOND SUB-FAMILY OF THE MUSOPHAGIDÆ.--THE COLIINÆ, OR COLIES.

Like the foregoing sub-family, the Colies are confined to Africa. They have decided affinities with the true Plantain-eaters, but are distinguished at a glance by their long tails, the feathers of which are much pointed, and become smaller and narrower towards the outside of the tail. They are most dexterous climbers, as was well seen in the captive specimens of the Chestnut-backed Coly, which were brought by Cameron from Angola, and lived for some time in the London Zoological Gardens.

THE WHITE-BACKED COLY (_Colius capensis_).

The Colies are known in the Cape Colony by the name of _Muisvogel_, or Mouse-bird, and they are not uncommon, ranging about in small families of from six to eight individuals. Mr. Layard says that they fly with a rapid, though laboured flight, generally at a lower level than the object at which they aim, and on nearing the latter they rise upwards with a sudden, abrupt curve. They creep among the branches like Parrots, and hang suspended head downwards, without inconvenience; and it is said that they invariably sleep in this position, many of them congregated in a ball. The nest was found by Mr. Andersson in Damara Land, between September and December. It was placed in a small bush, and was composed externally of grass and twigs, lined internally with softer grass, and the eggs were dull white, and, according to his observations, always three in number. Mr. Andersson states that the bird “is gregarious in its habits, being found in flocks by day, and also when roosting at night. Its flight is short and feeble, seldom extending beyond the nearest bush or tree, on reaching which it usually perches on one of the lower branches, and then gradually glides and creeps upwards through the foliage, using both bill and feet for that purpose. It is essentially a fruit-eating bird, but I believe when hard pressed for its regular food it does not despise insects and the young shoots of plants. Its flesh is palatable.” The Colies as a rule are dull-coloured brown birds, but they have a long crest. The present species is perhaps the handsomest, being ash-coloured, and having the lower back and rump purple glossed with red, while a white line, bordered on each side by a broad black one, extends from beneath the shoulders to the rump. The bill is bluish-white, and the feet bright red. The length of the bird is thirteen or fourteen inches.

THE FIFTH FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.--THE WOODPECKERS (_Picidæ_).

These are perhaps the most typical of all the yoke-footed or climbing birds, as they are most expert climbers, being aided in the latter operation not only by their long toes, which are arranged as usual in this order in pairs, but by their stiffened tail, which enables them to climb with great rapidity up the perpendicular trunks of trees. If they wish to descend a little way they do not turn and come down head-foremost, as a Nuthatch would do, but they let themselves down by a few jerks, still keeping an oblique position, with the tail downwards. The bill in almost every member of the family is wedge-shaped, and very powerful, and with this organ a Woodpecker taps vigorously at the bark, which he sometimes also prises off to get at the grubs or insects underneath. These latter, as they endeavour to escape, have little chance against the intruder, who, in addition to the stout bill which discloses their place of concealment, possesses a peculiar tongue, which is capable of being protruded to a long distance, is furnished with minute barbs at the end, and is covered with a glutinous fluid from which the insects are unable to free themselves. The Woodpeckers nearly all procure their food in the above manner, but occasionally frequent the ground, and the Green Woodpecker (_Gecinus[252] viridis_) commits great ravages among ant-hills. The resting-place is generally a hole excavated by the bird itself in a hollow tree, and the eggs are white. Among the most aberrant of the Woodpecker family are the Wrynecks (_Iÿnx_[253]), of which one species is well known in England under the name of the “Cuckoo’s mate.” The Wrynecks are all birds of beautiful mottled plumage, and do not have a stiffened tail like a true Woodpecker. They are found in Europe, in India, North-Eastern and Southern Africa. Woodpeckers, on the other hand, are extremely plentiful in the New World, and are distributed all over Africa, Europe, and Asia, but are not found in the Australian region, no Woodpecker occurring beyond the Island of Celebes in the Moluccas.

One great peculiarity in the anatomy of the Woodpeckers is the structure of the tongue, and its relation to the hyoid bone and its horns, or cornua. (For a description of this part in the Mammalia, see Vol. I., p. 168.) In Birds the hyoid bone is a much more complex structure than in the Mammalia. Besides forming the basis of the otherwise mainly muscular substance of the tongue, it is continued backwards in most birds as a double chain of bones, each pair of which bears a separate name significant of its importance; and the whole is apparently quite distinct from the skull above and from the larynx below. Its composition in the common fowl is best rendered intelligible by reference to the accompanying woodcut (Fig. 1). It represents the entire hyoid apparatus divested of all muscular and other surrounding tissues. The upper part of the figure is that nearest to the tip of the tongue, and the references to the lettering become clear in the course of the subsequent description.

Another woodcut (Fig. 2) shows a side view of a dissection of the head of the common Green Woodpecker (_Gecinus viridis_), and a reference to the explanation of the lettering on it will give a general idea of the whole.

The tip of the tongue (_t_) is a slender, flattened, horny point, bearing on its sides and upper surface a number of very delicate bristles, or prickles, directed backwards, an arrangement eminently useful to the bird for enabling it to extract its insect food from the recesses to which its beak, by reason of its size and hardness, could not readily, nor with sufficient quickness, gain access. This tip is further rendered a more efficient instrument for this purpose by its being constantly moistened by a very viscid saliva secreted by two particularly large salivary glands (Figs. 2, 3, and 4, _s.g._); and it was long ago remarked by Sir Charles Bell, in his essay on “The Hand” (Bridgewater Treatise, 1837), that the same muscles that effected the protrusion of the tongue exerted a simultaneous pressure upon these glands, so that the first result of the muscular contraction is to lubricate the tongue, while the rest of its force is spent in shooting it out with marvellous rapidity.

Behind this barbed and horny tip, the tongue is a slender worm-like body, of which the core is the anterior prolongation of the hyoid bone. The fore-part of this core, more like a bristle than a bone, is known to anatomists as the “glosso-hyal,” and it is immediately succeeded posteriorly by the “cerato-hyal.”[254] Behind this is the “basi-hyal ” (Fig. 1, _b.h._), the last bone to enter into the formation of the tongue proper. From this basi-hyal springs the pair of bones--the “thyro-hyals”--which attain the remarkable degree of development for which the birds now under consideration are distinguished. From each side of the hinder portion, then, of this basi-hyal bone diverge these important “thyro-hyals” (Fig. 1, _c.br._, _e.br._). They, in the Woodpeckers (compare Fig. 3, _th.h._), extend outwards and backwards to pass one on each side of the neck until they curl upwards and forwards, converging to meet one another on the upper part of the back of the head; thence they run along together, ploughing themselves a furrow in the skull-top till they reach almost to the right nostril. Each of these curved and highly elastic bones is surrounded by a delicate sheath, whose inner surface is kept constantly moist and lubricated by its own secretion; and this sheath is attached to the bone of the skull at its junction with the upper mandible, as is shown in the accompanying woodcut (Fig. 3, _i_).

Enclosed in the sheath here spoken of, and along the concavity of each bone, is a muscle which has a fixed attachment to the crura of the lower mandible on each side (Fig. 4, _e.m._, _e.m._). The contraction of this muscle shoots the tongue out in two different ways. In the Green Woodpecker the extremities of the thyro-hyal bones are themselves attached to the mandible, while the curvature of the bones makes a loop that hangs low down on each side of the neck (see Fig. 2, _th.h._). As the muscle is shortened this loop is raised up, and the free tip of the tongue is consequently projected; and since the muscle is on the inner, or concave, side of the curve, a very small shortening on its part makes a great addition to the apparent length of the tongue. Sir Charles Bell elucidates this action by comparing the great effect on the curve of a fishing-rod’s flexible top that a small tightening of the line has. But while this is the case in many species, there are others in which the sheath alone is attached to the bones of the forehead, and the bones themselves slide along inside together with the contracting fibres of the muscle, thus producing the same result as was obtained in the other case by the loops hanging low down in the neck.

The tongue, whose length is thus so extraordinarily increased, is drawn back to its original position within the bill by another pair of muscles, one on each side, which are attached to the basi-hyal. These take their origin from the trachea, around which (as shown in Figs. 2 and 4, _r.m._), in many species, they are curiously wound in their course. And, since the bones are at the point of their greatest curvature when at rest, it is obvious that this action of withdrawal is materially assisted by the elasticity of the prolongations of the hyoid bones themselves; for it is a well-known law that Nature never lets power run to waste, but always utilises forces of mere elasticity or rigidity when by their means the expenditure of nervous energy and muscular contractility can be saved.

It may be observed that this curious development of the bones of the tongue is not confined to the Woodpeckers; in the Sun Birds (_Nectariniidæ_) of the Old World, and the Humming-Birds (_Trochilidæ_) of the New, this same adaptation of means to ends obtains. Even in the Picidæ themselves many variations have been noticed, in addition to those above alluded to; for instance, in the Yellow-billed Woodpecker (_Sphyrapicus[255] varius_) of North America the horns of the hyoid do not reach so far as the eye, so that the tongue, with its bushy tip in this case, is only extensible in a very slight degree; while in the Hairy Woodpecker (_Picus villosus_) the thyro-hyals curve spirally over the right orbit so as to reach entirely around the eye, to be inserted at its lower posterior margin.

Considerable difference of opinion exists as to the damage done by Woodpeckers in tapping sound trees, and many a poor bird pays the penalty of his life for his supposed destructive propensities. Mr. Waterton argues strongly on the side of the bird, and alleges that only rotten and unsound trees are attacked for the sake of a nesting habitation, or for the purpose of getting insects; but that this is not always the case was proved by the writer himself in the spring of 1878, when a boy was sent up to a hole in a beech-tree in Avington Park, in Hampshire. The tree was still perfectly sound, so sound, indeed, that the bird had evidently given up the idea of inhabiting it for that year, and had betaken himself elsewhere, after having excavated a round hole to the depth of two or three inches. In the same tree, a little lower down, was a similar hole, evidently made the previous year, when the bird had “tapped” the tree, and it was clear that he had returned again in the succeeding season, and had tried a little higher up in the trunk, to see if there were any chance of procuring a domicile. This proceeding must have injured the tree, and was the work of a Green Woodpecker, or Yaffle, whose laughing note was heard from another quarter of the park, even as the above examination was being conducted. In this part of Hampshire, though the bird is not persecuted by the owner of Avington, Mr. Edward Shelley, or by his keepers, the Green Woodpecker is rare; but in certain parts of Huntingdonshire the writer can remember to have found it very plentiful in his school-days, and it was a never-failing object in a country walk, flitting from tree to tree in front of the observer, and always keeping a sharp look-out from the opposite side of the trunk on which he settled. This species appears in old pieces of poetry under the various names of Yaffle, Woodwele, or Woodwale, Whetile, and it is in some places called “Hewhole,” Woodhacker, &c.[256]:--

“The Skylark in ecstasy sang from a cloud, And Chanticleer crowed, and the Yaffil laughed loud.”

_The Peacock at Home._

“The Woodwele sang, and would not cease, Sitting upon the spray; So loud he wakened Robin Hood In the greenwood where he lay.”

Ritson’s Edition of _Robin Hood_, vol. i., p. 115.

“There the Jay and the Throstell The Mavis menyd in her song, The Woodwale fard or beryd as a bell That wode about me rung.”

_True Thomas._

Some Woodpeckers seem to make storehouses against the winter, by pecking holes in a tree, and an interesting example of a piece of bark, in which a Red-headed Woodpecker (_Melanerpes formicivorus_)[257] had placed a store of acorns, is to be seen in the British Museum.

Another British species, the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker (_Picus[258] minor_), is a bird of different habits, frequenting fruit-gardens in the autumn, and doing very little damage to trees in the nesting season. It generally selects the rotten branch of an old poplar-tree, and hollows out a hole in so perilous a situation that it is difficult to climb to, and, indeed, the whole bough is often brought down by the first gale in the ensuing winter. Here its small wedge-shaped bill speedily makes an excavation, and at some little distance down in the hollow interior it lays its glossy white eggs on the touchwood and decaying wood. Both sexes assist in the preparation of the nest; and in mild winters they sometimes begin with the commencement of the year to look out for their future home. The selection of this appears to be a matter of no small anxiety, for several trees are examined in turn, and often at long distances apart. The birds at the time of incubation keep up a continual signalling one to the other, which is produced by a rapid whining noise caused by tapping on the thinner branches of the dead trees. This call-note, if it may be called such, is generally heard in the early morning, and ceases as soon as the nesting operations have finally commenced. Besides this note, they have also one like the “laugh” of the Green Woodpecker, but, of course, much reduced in accordance with the difference in the size of the two birds. The little Spotted Woodpecker may often be seen hanging on to, and climbing round, the slender twigs of the outer branches of a tree, and looks much like a Creeper or a Nuthatch, which it does not greatly exceed in dimensions.

THE SIXTH FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.

THE TOUCANS (_Rhamphastidæ_).[259]

The Toucans, with their clumsy bills, have much the aspect of Hornbills, which they may be said to represent in South America, to which continent they are entirely confined, but by this time the student knows that they have really little to do with each other, beyond a certain outward similarity, as the Toucans belong to the Scansorial, the Hornbills to the Fissirostral, section of the _Picariæ_. It is not possible to give a long account of the habits of individual species of Toucans, and a general sketch of their manners and customs is extracted from the monograph of the Toucans written by Mr. John Gould.[260] To him the late Prince Maximilian, of Neuwied, an excellent observer, during his travels in South America writes:--“The _Rhamphastidæ_ are very common in all parts of the extensive forests of the Brazils, and are killed in great numbers at the cooler portion of the year, for the purposes of the table. To the stranger they are of even greater interest than to the natives, from their remarkable form, and from the rich and strongly-contrasted style of their colouring, their black or green bodies being adorned with markings of the most brilliant hues--red, orange, blue and white--the naked parts of the body dyed with brilliant colours, the legs blue or green, the irides blue, yellow, &c., and the large bill of a different colour in every species, and in many instances very gaily marked. The colouring of the soft parts is, however, so evanescent, that, to determine the species with accuracy, they must be depicted during life or immediately after the birds are killed. Common as these birds are in their native wilds, it is exceedingly difficult to detect their breeding-places; it is certain that they deposit their eggs in the hollow limbs and holes of the colossal trees so abundant in the tropical forests, but I never was so fortunate as to discover them. The stomachs of the specimens I examined contained nothing but the remains of fruits, principally of the softer kinds, for which, indeed, they have such a liking that they resort in great numbers to the plantations in the vicinity of their native haunts, and commit sad havoc among their favourite delicacies. I was informed that they frequently steal and eat young birds, but no instance of their doing so came under my own observation, and I never detected the remains of animal food in their stomachs. Mr. Waterton’s opinion agrees with mine, that they feed solely upon fruits; but Azara, among others, states that they also feed upon animal substances. The specimens we saw in a state of domestication were very voracious and perfectly omnivorous, but they seem to be purely frugivorous in a state of nature, a fact which was, indeed, confirmed by the Brazilian natives whom we questioned on the subject. In their manners the _Rhamphastidæ_ offer some resemblance to the Crows, and especially to the Magpies; like them they are very troublesome to the birds of prey, particularly to the Owls, whom they surround and annoy by making a great noise, all the while jerking their tails upwards and downwards. The flight of these birds is easy and graceful, and they sweep with facility over the loftiest trees of their native forests, their strangely-developed bills, contrary to expectation, being no encumbrance to them. The voice of the Toucans is short and unmelodious, and is somewhat different in every species. The feathers are used by the Indians for personal decoration, especially the yellow breasts of the birds, which they affix to their heads on each side near the temple, and also to the ends of their bows.”

Mr. Waterton, in one of his Essays, has the following remarks:--“There are three species of Toucan in Demerara, and three diminutives, which may be called Toucanets. The largest of the former frequents the mangrove-trees on the sea-coast. It is never seen in the interior until you reach Macoushia, where it is found in the neighbourhood of the river Tacatou; the other two species are very common. They feed entirely on the fruits of the forest, and, though of the Pie kind, never kill the young of other birds or eat carrion. The larger is called _Bouradi_ by the Indians (which means _nose_), the other _Scirou_. They seem partial to each other’s company, and often resort to the same feeding tree, and retire to the same shady noon-day retreat. They are very noisy in rainy weather at all hours of the day, and in fair weather at morn and eve. The sound the _Bouradi_ makes is like the clear yelping of a puppy-dog, and you fancy he says ‘_Pia-po-o-co_,’ and thus the South American Spaniards call him _Piapoco_. All the Toucanets feed on the same trees on which the Toucan feeds, and every species of this family of enormous bill lays its eggs in the hollow trees. They are social, but not gregarious. You may sometimes see eight or ten in company, and from this you may suppose they are gregarious, but upon a closer examination you find it is only a dinner party, which breaks up and disperses towards roosting-time. You will be at a loss to conjecture for what end Nature has overloaded the head of this bird with such an enormous bill. It cannot be for the offensive, as it has no need to wage war with any of the tribes of animated nature, for its food is fruits and seed, and those are in superabundance throughout the whole year in the regions where the Toucan is found. It cannot be for the defensive, as the Toucan is preyed upon by no bird in South America, and, were it obliged to be at war, the texture of the bill is ill-adapted to give or receive blows, as you will see by dissecting it. The flight of the Toucan is by jerks. In the action of flying it seems incommoded by this huge, disproportionate feature, and the head seems as if bowed down to the earth by it against its will. If the extraordinary size and form of the bill expose the Toucan to ridicule, its colours make it amends. Were a specimen of each species of Toucan presented to you, you would pronounce the bill of the _Bouradi_ the most rich and beautiful one. It is worthy of remark that all these brilliant colours of the bill are to be found in the plumage of the body and the bare skin around the eye.” Space will not permit of a long extract from the works of d’Azara (the only field naturalist of any fame that Portugal has yet produced), but a few notes of this traveller, made in Paraguay, differ from the foregoing accounts, and show that in the southern portion of their range the habits of some of the Toucans vary to a great extent. So voracious does d’Azara consider them, that on this account he places them among the birds of prey, and writes:--“The Toucans, contrary to all appearances, destroy a great number of birds, and, on account of their long and strong beak, are respected and feared by all species. They attack and drive them from their nests, and in their very presence eat their eggs and young; these they draw from the holes with the long beak, or throw down nest and all together. It is credibly reported that the Toucans do not even respect the eggs or young of the ‘Aras’ (Macaws) and Caracaras, and if the fledglings are too large or too strong to be lifted from the nest, they dash them to the ground, as if it were their nature not only to devour, but to uselessly destroy. The bird, in flying, presents the point of his bill against the wind, so that it does not offer more resistance than that of other birds in which the head and superficies are equal in extent; besides which, the conformation and specific lightness of this long beak cannot impede flight, because the highest points of the bird being the bill itself and the anterior portion of the body, they form no obstacle, the wind first taking effect upon the point of the bill. When in a state of repose, the Toucan carries its bill rather more elevated than a horizontal line that would pass through the eyes, and when closely looked at, it looks like a false bill, because its base exceeds the breadth of the head, which presents the appearance of being enclosed in a case. In addition to these singularities, the nostrils are placed behind the aforesaid base. The tongue is very narrow and of an equal thickness throughout. It is entirely osseous, and resembles somewhat a feather two lines in width, furnished with an osseous fringe, which is directed from behind forwards, so that the tongue, stiff and unyielding, takes no part in the direction of the food nor in the formation of the note, which, in the first two Paraguayan species, is confined to the single syllable ‘_rae_.’ The mandibles are very distinctly dentated at their edges, these dentations not corresponding at all above and below, nor are they even relatively symmetrical. The beak itself is a thin osseous sheath, filled with a number of empty cellules. The eye is large, and surrounded by a triangular naked space, puffed up, and very pretty. The foot is very short and stout, and covered nearly to the heel with long scales, harsh to the touch. The outer toe, as well before as behind, is the longest. The claws are much flattened and curved, as in the Woodpeckers. The tail is composed of ten feathers. The Toucan flies at a moderate height, and in a straight horizontal line, flapping its wings occasionally with some noise. The flight is quicker than the smallness of the wings would lead one to believe. It perches towards the top of the highest trees, and though unable to climb after the manner of Woodpeckers, it still progresses with speed, hopping from branch to branch. It pays great attention to all that takes place in its vicinity, advancing with fear and diffidence, like the ‘Uruca’ and the ‘Acahes.’ There is no perceptible difference between the two sexes, nor do I believe that the species exists towards the south beyond 28°, nor that it drinks. It rarely settles on the ground. The Toucan hops obliquely and very awkwardly, with the legs separated about a hand’s breadth. When it takes young birds from the nest, pieces of meat or fruit, it throws them in the air, as a juggler his balls, and by a quick movement of the beak repeats this action until the food is in a favourable position for being swallowed, and then by another movement gulps it down its large throat. If the mouthful be larger than the orifice of the gullet, the Toucan abandons it without seeking to divide it.”

Mr. Bates, in his “Naturalist on the River Amazon,” makes some further allusions to the Toucans and their bill, which will be found well worth the reading. He also gives the following history of a tame bird (Vol. ii., p. 341):--“One day, whilst walking along the principal pathway in the woods near Ega, I saw one of these Toucans seated gravely on a low branch close to the road, and had no difficulty in seizing it with my hand. It turned out to be a runaway pet bird; no one, however, came to own it, although I kept it in my house for several months. The bird was in a half-starved and sickly condition, but after a few days of good living it recovered health and spirits, and became one of the most amusing pets imaginable. Many excellent accounts of the habits of tame Toucans have been published, and therefore I need not describe them in detail; but I do not recollect to have seen any notice of their intelligence and confiding disposition under domestication, in which qualities my pet seemed to be almost equal to Parrots. I allowed Tocáno to go free about the house, contrary to my usual practice with pet animals. He never, however, mounted my working-table after a smart correction, which he received the first time he did so. He used to sleep on the top of a box in a corner of the room, in the usual position of these birds--namely, with the long tail laid right over on the back and the beak thrust underneath the wing. He ate of everything that we eat (beef, turtle, fish, farina, fruit), and was a constant attendant at our table--a cloth spread on a mat. His appetite was most ravenous, and his powers of digestion quite wonderful. He got to know the meal-hours to a nicety, and we found it very difficult, after the first week or two, to keep him away from the dining-room, where he had become very impudent and troublesome. We tried to shut him out by enclosing him in the back yard, which was separated by a high fence from the street on which our front door opened; but he used to climb the fence and hop round by a long circuit to the dining-room, making his appearance with the greatest punctuality as the meal was placed on the table. He acquired the habit afterwards of rambling about the street near our house, and one day he was stolen, so we gave him up for lost. But two days afterwards he stepped through the open doorway at dinner-hour, with his old gait, and sly, magpie-like expression, having escaped from the house where he had been guarded by the person who had stolen him, which was situated at the farther end of the village.”

THE SEVENTH FAMILY OF THE ZYGODACTYLE PICARIAN BIRDS.

THE BARBETS (_Capitonidæ_).[261]

These are climbing birds of somewhat brilliant coloration, distributed over the tropical portions of both hemispheres, but absent in Europe, Northern Asia, Australia, and the Moluccas southwards from the Sunda Islands. “Though strictly arboreal in their habits,” write Messrs. Marshall, in their exhaustive work on the family,[262] “and living only in forest districts or open countries interspersed with groves of trees, they are neither shy nor difficult to approach. When the districts in which they are found happen to be at all thickly populated, the Barbets show no disposition to retreat to more secluded quarters, but take up their abode in gardens, and frequently breed in trees close to the houses. They usually keep to the tops of the trees, but may occasionally be seen creeping among the branches of small bushes and underwood. Their food is fruit, seeds, buds, and occasionally insects; these latter are very seldom resorted to in Asia, more frequently in Africa, and with some American species they form the staple food. They are not gregarious, though a great number may sometimes be seen together in a fig-tree at the fruit season. They live in pairs during the breeding season, which is in the spring, and commence moulting in September. They rarely, if ever, descend to the ground, and appear to move from tree to tree only when compelled to do so in search of food, or when disturbed by an intruder. Their flight is powerful, but heavy and undulating, like that of a Woodpecker. A curious instance of their disinclination to travel is seen in the fact of the Himalayan Lineated Barbet (_Megalæma hodgsoni_) and the Hoary Jungle Barbet (_M. caniceps_) never crossing the narrow valley of the Deyra Doon, though both are abundant in their respective boundaries; also that the Blue-faced Barbet (_M. asiatica_) is confined to the valley of the Jumna, in the district between Mussooree and Simla, though there are many other valleys apparently equally suitable. When not in pursuit of food, the Barbets sit motionless among the foliage near the tops of the trees, and exhibit none of that vivacity which is so marked a characteristic of the Passerine birds, amongst which they have been sometimes erroneously classed. Their voice is loud and ringing, consisting almost always of one, two, or three syllables, given out with extraordinary power, and may be heard at midday or on a moonlight night when all other sounds are hushed. Some of the American species have, in common with the Toucans, the habit of jerking their tail up over their back when they utter their call. The male and female sometimes keep up what appears to be a ‘calling-match’ for about ten minutes, and then suddenly cease. As far as is known, they all build in holes of trees, which they make for themselves in soft or decayed branches. No lining is needed for the nest, a few of the broken chips being left at the bottom of a hole. The entrance is circular and neatly bevelled, resembling that of a Woodpecker. The hole is generally about eight or ten inches deep, varying, of course, with the size of the bird. They lay three or four shining white eggs, with rather thin shells, and rather elongated, blunt, oval in shape, both ends being nearly similar. They are laid in the latter end of April and beginning of May in Northern India. Barbets are occasionally caged, but they are very seldom brought to England, and do not bear confinement very well; consequently, little is known of them in this country, except to ornithologists. An interesting account of one of them (_Megalæma zeylanica_) in captivity, by Mr. Layard, will be found quoted below. Their plumage, though very brilliant, is tasteless and too gaudy, and their shape is heavy and ugly, which will account for their skins not yet having been promoted to the positions with which pretty birds’ feathers are generally associated in the minds of the non-ornithological public.” Mr. Layard’s account is as follows:--“The Brown-headed Barbet is common in Ceylon, and universally distributed. It feeds on fruits and berries of all kinds, which it swallows entire. It does not, that I know of, devour small birds when in a state of nature, but one kept in a large aviary at Colombo destroyed all the little _Amadinæ_ placed with it. Not content with snapping them up when within his reach, he would lie in wait for them behind a thick bush or the feeding-trough, pounce upon them unawares, and, after beating them a little on the ground or perch, swallow them whole. When this cannibal came into my possession he was confined in a smaller cage than that in which he had at first been secured. This seemed to displease him, and he went to work to find some means of escape. He narrowly examined every side and corner to discover a weak spot, and having detected one, applied himself vigorously to bore a hole through it, as a Woodpecker would have done. Grasping the bars with his feet, he swung himself round, bringing his whole weight to bear upon his bill, which he used as a pickaxe, till the house resounded with his rapid and well-aimed blows. On being checked from exercising his ingenuity in this manner, he became sulky, and refused to eat or offer his call of recognition when I approached him. In a day or two, however, he apparently thought better of the matter, resumed his labours upon another spot, and fed as voraciously as ever, devouring huge slices of bananas, jungle fruits, the bodies of any small birds I skinned, &c.”

THE SECOND ORDER.--PICARIAN BIRDS. SUB-ORDER II.--FISSIROSTRES.