Part 4

When I arrived early in October 1907 at Deir-el-Bahari, I saw thousands upon thousands of Swifts flying round in never-ending circles, and all, as far as I was able to identify them, the same Swift that goes shrieking its weird song down every town and village in rural England. Night after night, in the wonderful glow that follows the actual sunset, I used to go to the top of the great cliffs that overhang Queen Hatashu's temple, where round me raced here, there, and everywhere, these great clouds of birds, sometimes so near me, as I sat quietly hidden in a niche of the rocks, that I could easily have knocked them down with a stick; whilst others were high, high up, circling round. Every now and then so close they came, shrilly shrieking and screaming, one after another, in follow-my-leader fashion, that I felt the cool fanning of the air from their beating wings. In the early morning they were out again, but during the middle of the day they were rarely if ever to be seen. By the end of November there were but few, and when I returned after Christmas there was hardly one to be seen. About the middle of January I saw flocks of them again at Karnak, which is only just on the other side of the river.

Shelley seems to speak of the Common Swift as rare, and he is most probably right, but I have no doubt whatever of the identity of those I saw in the neighbourhood of Thebes at that particular time. The Swift that really breeds here is the Pale Swift, which, instead of being almost black all over like the Common Swift, has a more or less uniform greyish-brown plumage, and is considerably smaller; Shelley says two inches.

In the report of the Giza Zoological Society on the wild birds that have been observed in the gardens, both species of Swifts are noticed as having occurred there, and it is probable that both kinds are spread over the whole of Egypt. Why it is not generally noticed is because, as has been said, it flies out rather late, and keeps to great heights, never within my own experience flying as at home a foot or so above the ground.

The Pale Swift I have often seen, and so close to me that the main difference in plumage to the Common Swift has been definitely noted. I myself have never heard it make the wild shrieking note our own bird makes, but then I have only seen it in the mid-winter months.

THE SWALLOWS

Hirundo rustica Hirundo savignii

_European Common Chimney Swallow_ _Egyptian_

Upper plumage from forehead to tail, deep metallic steel blue-black; forehead and throat, rich red-brown; a band of the blue borders the red on throat; underparts creamy-white; beak very short and black; eyes, dark brown. Length, 8 inches.

The above description is of the Common or Chimney Swallow, and if for the creamy-white underparts, you read red-brown underparts, length 7 inches, you have an accurate description of the Egyptian or Oriental Chimney Swallow. As the Egyptian Swallow and our own Common Swallow are so similar in appearance and habits, both are dealt with in this article. With so little difference between the two species, it is not strange that persons seem to find it hard to distinguish the one from the other; but really, if one watches at all carefully, he will soon note if the individual bird has the creamy-white underparts or no, as it is seldom that any swallow flies long without that sideway swerve which shows the wing lifted free above the body. The first date I have noted as

seeing the Common Swallow was February 1, 1908, at the Mût Lake, Karnak; but I have no doubt that at some parts up or down the river they can be seen all the winter through. After February, day by day, the great hosts of them, all flying with earnest intent due north, makes one of the most interesting sights to English eyes in all Egypt, as one can well believe that some of those very birds will be the first to greet one on his return home in April or May. I have often seen them hawking about over the waters of some small insect-haunted pool in friendly company with their Oriental cousins, and have always marvelled at their leaving a land with its constant sun and amazing wealth of flies and insects, for our own comparatively inclement clime and poor food-supply. In a room I slept in, at the hut at Deir-el-Bahari, there was a swallow's nest just over my bed, and though it was too early when I was there in January for them to start breeding, on several occasions the Egyptian Swallows came fluttering in through the unglazed windows, just to take a look round and see that all was right for later on. On February 14 I saw two, which were clearly mated birds, on the ground, picking up scraps of twigs and straw, and then rapidly fly away. In a few minutes both were back again, and one seemed to be taking mud, whilst the other kept searching for just the right-sized bit of dry grass or straw; it took up many bits, but they did not seem to satisfy the requirements and were dropped, till just the right-sized piece was forthcoming. So it is clear they must start nesting very early, and pretty certainly will have, as our British bird does, two broods in the season. There is practically little or no difference in the habits of either of these two Swallows--the one might be the other--and though I have watched them long and carefully, I am unable to recall any single peculiarity that our Swallow has from the Egyptian. Both alike have that habit of dipping momentarily into the water, then rising for a short distance, and again fluttering down on to the surface with a slight splash, and both kinds seem to have boundless energy and strength, tearing up and down incessantly by the hour together. So many birds rest in flight by making long sweeping curves with rigidly outstretched wings. Kites and Vultures are great exponents of this power, but the Swallows, though they can do it of course, are nearly all the day careering in headlong flight with restless energy, and the

long journey they take in migration is probably, under fair climatic conditions, nothing at all formidable to them. If, however, they get caught in some storm or blizzard-like gale, it is an altogether different matter, and there are many records of the Mediterranean coast being littered with hundreds of dead bodies of the Swallows that have succumbed and fallen helplessly into the sea. Watching them flying about the river, or above the growing crops, one finds it difficult to picture a more perfectly happy existence--food in abundance, sunshine all day long, and a kindly welcome at roosting time in every house or rough mud-hut--and cheery and grateful it seems for it all, if one may judge by its lively twittering song. No wonder every country has made a special favourite of the Swallow. It is entirely insectivorous, and, as has been said of several other birds, the use that they are in this land of plagues of flies is enormous.

Swallows' nests, as is well known, are generally placed on some horizontal beam or masonry. Martin's nests are placed on the perpendicular sides of buildings, and by choice close under the eaves of our broad-roofed houses. Both are built of mud, and the mud is very generally obtained from roadsides or by the river's edge, but if any of my readers will endeavour to build up a nest with such mud against an upright wall, they will attempt an all but impossible task, for as the curve begins to grow outwards it will with its own weight fall away from the wall. What is it, then, that the Swallows and Martins do to make their nests adhere? If you examine an old last year's nest and try and break the outer shell, you will find it very tough considering the material it is made of, and the toughening matter is a secretion of saliva. In the case of some species of Swallows this secretion is so great that the whole of the nest is made of that substance alone, with the lining of a few feathers. And it is this nest, cleaned of all foreign matter which is the base of the much-esteemed delicacy known as birdnest soup. Few who have partaken of this luxury are perhaps aware that it is simply solidified saliva.

Of Martins there are two--the House-Martin and the Sand-Martin, both birds common to Great Britain. Of the latter, literally thousands and thousands will be seen nesting in colonies in the mud banks by all who go up and down the river; restless and cheerful, they are one of the welcome sights of the Nile trip, and often for miles at a stretch the whole banks are honeycombed with their nesting holes, and ever and again, moved by some common impulse, hundreds come rushing out and over the boat with noisy twitterings, and then scattering, gradually return in ones and twos to their homes again.

WHITE WAGTAIL

Motacilla alba

Crown of head and nape dark grey or black, upper plumage delicate grey, wings brownish, some of the feathers edged with white; tail dark-brownish, two outer feathers on each side white; forehead, most of the cheek and under-parts white, black collar, legs and bill black, eyes brown. Length, 7 inches.

I have pictured this particular Wagtail as it is perhaps the commonest of all, but there are several other kinds that at certain seasons might dispute the point and run it very close. It is very similar, superficially, to the familiar Pied Wagtail, but is greyer, less positively black and white, and might well be called the Grey rather than the White Wagtail. In the winter months, in Egypt, at whatever part of the country, north or south, you may be, you will see Wagtails of some sort or another busily chasing flies with ever-restless activity, and the numbers that there must be of this most useful bird is past all computation. Wagtails are peculiar in that they are about the smallest birds that really walk and run. All other

small birds--finches, warblers, and the rest--move by hopping; but Wagtails all run, and hardly ever make any semblance of a hop unless the sudden bound into the air after some passing fly be called a hop. No bird is neater or more graceful in line than this, and I am sadly conscious of how little of its real beauty the drawing gives; the daintiness with which it does everything is singularly beautiful. Though many pass the winter in Egypt some must go farther south, as when the time comes for their return to their northern breeding-places in February and March there is a notable increase in their numbers, and I remember one particular evening in March when the whole cultivated ground round the Ramaseum, Thebes, was literally covered with them, and as darkness came on even more seemed to be dropping in on every side. The next day, when I went to the same place, the bulk had already gone, and there were hardly more than you could see at any time.

The Yellow Wagtail is a smaller bird than the White. Ornithologists record no less than three species as found in Egypt, all having yellow breasts. The Grey-headed Yellow Wagtail is the one most abundant, and for beauty is unsurpassed. Its tail is notably shorter than in other Wagtails, and from my own observation I should say it is a more timid little bird than others of its kindred.

THE CRESTED LARK

Galerita cristata

All upper plumage brown; the large feathers of wings and tail edged with a lighter buffish tone; crest of narrow dark-brown feathers with light edges; back of crest, as one sees under it when raised, tells very rich dark brown; underparts white spotted and streaked on breast with dark brown. Length, 6·7 inches.

For once the name does really describe the bird, so that none may be in any doubt whatever. For the crest is the one thing noticed. I have drawn one with a fine crest, but have been afraid to make it as big as I have in one or two cases seen it. Early in February I saw some that I really think had the crest a full eighth of an inch higher than my drawing shows. In each case they were undoubtedly showing off to their lady-love. The crest can be, and often is, raised at an absolute right angle as to a line horizontal with the beak. The bird is so tame that frequently it sits on the path so that you fear your donkey will tread on it, and so common that no one, however unobservant, but must notice it; it is particularly in evidence on the great Thebes plain across which all go to the Tombs of the Kings. Its song, as far as I have heard it, is distinctly pleasant; Captain Shelley calls it "but an indifferent song," which is severe, as it is a happy little rippling series of true lark-like notes. It has a good mixed diet, animal and vegetable, hard grain and soft blade of growing things. When the weather begins to get warm you will often see this lark, as you may many other birds, sitting with its mouth open as if gasping for breath; that this is a sign they do feel the heat is certain, but I do not think that it shows they are suffering from thirst, for in the cultivation they always have water all round them in the little canals that run everywhere through the crops, and if they were thirsty they could very soon quench it. When on Lake Menzaleh, just on the very limit of Egyptian soil and Mediterranean Sea, I came across many taking a last rest on the sandbanks before migrating, and was very struck with their altered bearing. They were shy and timid, never allowed a close inspection, and flew away in hurried fashion. This was in the early weeks of April.

THE WHITE-RUMPED CHAT

Saxicola leucopygia

General plumage, black with slae-blue reflections; rump, white; tail, black; outside feathers, white; beak and legs, black; eyes, brown. Length varying from 6-1/2 to 7 inches.

I confess to finding the Chats a puzzling order of birds to identify when seen in the open. In the case of some, not only is the female larger, but of such a different aspect and dull sandy colour that it is really difficult to believe that it is in any way related to the startlingly plumaged black and white male bird. All the Chats love the desert more than the cultivated ground, and I myself have never seen this Chat save on rocks or sand. The visitor going to the Tombs of the Kings at Thebes, or around the Pyramids, should certainly see this bird, as it is there common, and owing to its way of flitting sharply from one point to another, and sitting high up on the top of some boulder, with its strongly contrasted black and white plumage, is always a very conspicuous object. What it gets to live on in these desert places is hard to see, but it does manage to pick up a living on grass or other seeds and small insects.

Two other Chats very closely related are the Hooded Chat and the Mourning Chat. The former is very similarly marked on the body, but has a white top or hood on its head, whilst the latter has the top of its head a delicate dull grey, and a buffish tone over the under tail-coverts.

ROSY-VENTED CHAT

Saxicola moesta

Black on sides of face; wings, a blackish brown with lighter margins; under parts a warm white gradating into a pinkish rufous as it nears tail; tail, dark at end, white at base; eyes, brown. Length, 6·2 inches.

This is not so common a bird as the preceding, but still if a sharp look-out be kept it ought to be seen. It inhabits the desert, but I have twice seen it on the edge of cultivation, and the particular bird I made my drawing from got up from stubble just by the river-side. Both this bird and the White-rumped are closely related to our own Wheatear on one side and to our Stone-chat on the other. All these birds are alike in the continued restlessness

of their movements, and their habit of flying on in advance as one approaches, and then settling again on some prominent point till a nearer approach sends it on again with a flick of its tail till it finds another suitable perching spot. In the most out-of-the-way desolate places, where not one blade of vegetation shows itself, and all is yellow sand and hard grey rock baking in the sun, there you will as likely as not find Chats of one kind or another, the only living thing, seemingly, in this great dreary expanse; the dreariness never, however, seems to affect them. No one has ever seen a Chat in low spirits; it is always happy and lively, a very Mark Tapley amongst birds.

THE BLUE-THROATED WARBLER

Cyanecula suecica

Plumage of back and top of head dull grey-brown; a light buff stripe above eye; throat and breast brilliant cobalt-blue, with a white spot at the top of breast, a bright rufous bar edges the blue on the lower breast, this red bar sometimes being separated from the blue by a thin white stripe; under-parts white. The hen bird is a dull edition of the above, with a buffish-coloured throat, and more black than blue showing on the breast; legs, beak, and eyes brown. Total length, 5·5 inches.

This is a common bird throughout Egypt, where it winters. It is related to our common Robin, to which it bears some resemblance; but it is rather longer in shape and higher on the leg than the Redbreast.

The Bluethroat is well named, and having once seen this charming little warbler, it is by its blue throat it will be remembered. The first time I came across this bird was long ago; but I remember, as if it were to-day, my delight when the little bird, which had been flitting about--now on the ground, now in the lower branches and twigs of a bushy osier--turned so that I saw

its brilliant ultramarine-blue gorget fringed with a rust-red band. It had been for some minutes feeding and moving about in the bush and on the ground, and yet, during the whole of that time, it had never once turned right head on, and that which was my first experience is, one finds, a quite usual peculiarity. It always seems to give you a back view, and from that view you might be justified in thinking it was a Redstart, as it has the same habit of flitting its tail up and down, and showing the very orange-red under-parts. Whether it was an accidental visitation I do not know, but early in the year 1908 the gardens of the old Luxor Hotel were full of Bluethroats--as soon, pretty well, as you passed one you came on another. The little water-channels running about these well-kept grounds seemed to be the point of attraction, as they were busily hopping about and sometimes into them, and splashing merrily--hardly serious washing, but a sort of childlike abandon of pleasure in pleasant surroundings; but even with so many visible, and seen under such familiar conditions, it was astonishing how seldom any gave one a front face view. There is a point of great interest in the two races of Bluethroat, one having a red, the other a white spot on the blue shield: and this because the red-spotted species goes for its breeding quarters to the most northern parts of Scandinavia, whilst its white-spotted cousin goes no farther north than Germany. And we are told that in spite of Germany's numerous and well-instructed ornithologists no case has been observed of the red-spotted form ever having stopped in its transit from Africa, although it must pass right over the country, till it reaches its nearly Arctic home. This seems to show that this delicately built, tender little bird probably makes its journey by night, and so high up that it escapes all observation; and when you consider the vast distance from Egypt's shores to the far-away mosses of Scandinavia, it is about as marvellous a journey without a halt as one can conceive of. Flies, insects, caterpillars, and, when it can get it, fruit of any kind, form its diet.

The Bluethroat is on the list of British birds, but is one more case of a bird being so included that really hardly should be, for it is but an accidental visitor; probably it never meant to come to Britain and only got there by mistake, when it is generally shot at sight. It is particularly upright in its carriage and sprightly in its movements; so quick that eyes unaccustomed to observing birds find it difficult to see it at all, as with a series of running hops it darts under the shade of overhanging bush or shrub. In the winter months it hardly utters more than a simple call-note, but as spring approaches it breaks into song, and at the end of March I have several times heard it singing most enchantingly. It seems to sing when on the ground, and not when perched amongst the bushy undergrowth; and I remember watching one, singing as lustily as any nightingale, as it stood on a bare bit of stony, sandy soil, bordering a little pool, fully exposed to view, while I sat quietly not three yards away.

THE REED WARBLER

Acrocephalus streperus

General plumage a greyish brown; a warmer brown on the wings, and brighter brown on rump; under parts a delicate white, shading into buff on the flanks and under tail coverts; a faint light stripe above eye; legs and beak, brown; eyes, hazel brown. Length, 5-1/4 inches.

The song of any bird is one of the most certain methods, when really known, of identification. In the case of Warblers and other small birds that flit about rapidly, and always half-sheltered by vegetation, it is often exceedingly difficult to get a near and clear view, and very hard to know exactly to what species it belongs. This is particularly the case with the Reed and the Sedge Warblers; they stick so close to their beloved shelter that you rarely get a complete view of them, but if you will wait quietly and patiently you are sure to hear them burst out into a shorter or longer song--then is your chance--and if you have the very slightest sense of music, you will catch the notes peculiar to that bird and that bird alone. The Reed Warbler's song is very peculiar; it is a running trill of notes given out exceedingly quickly, and in

an exceedingly loud, noisy, boisterous voice, as if the bird were in the highest possible spirits. Very unlike that of many of the singers; the Nightingale, for instance, to every one sounds sad, plaintive, beautiful, but distinctly not cheerful. I have heard the Reed Warbler very often at many points on the Nile where there were no reed beds, but only stunted tamarisk or other shrubs, but in the great reed beds on and outside Lake Menzaleh I have both seen and heard it in great numbers, and the quite extraordinary penetrating noise that a number make when together is most remarkable. It is a most charming active little bird, a perfect acrobat, and it sings as blithely upside down as it does right side up. But the most attractive thing about its life-history is its nest; this it builds in the very heart of some thick clump of reeds. The accompanying picture shows how when the wind blows the cradle does rock; but it matters not how much it rocks, the wise bird builds the nest so deep that the eggs lying snug at the bottom never get tilted out. In Egypt the bird is, like the bulk of visitors, but a winter migrant. As it is insectivorous it is of some use in keeping down the host of flies great and small, and it is said to be partial to mosquitoes, which should make every one look with favour on this cheery little songster. I often think it is a mercy that practically all the song birds are small, for consider what it would mean if the large birds made noise in the same proportion to their size that the Reed Warbler does to his,--the world would be a veritable Babel.

THE SPARROW

Passer domesticus