Chapter 2

Look at the bright colours of this beautiful little bird: you can scarcely find one with prettier plumage or a sweeter note. His native song is not very remarkable, but he is so docile, and so readily taught to whistle different airs, that he is highly valued. Bullfinches are common enough in our woods and gardens, but gardeners are sad enemies to these little birds, declaring that they spoil trees by picking off their buds. It is, however, now thought by intelligent persons that the only buds destroyed by the bullfinch are those infested with insects, so that he really confers a benefit on us instead of doing mischief. Almost all the piping bullfinches as they are called, kept in cages in this country, are brought from Germany, where much care is devoted to their instruction in the art of music. In their education the following method is pursued. "The birds are taken from the nests of wild ones when about ten days old, and are brought up by a person who is very kind and attentive to them, so that they very soon grow gentle and tame. As soon as they begin to whistle their studies commence, they being then about two months' old. Formed into classes of six or so, they are kept a little while hungry and in the dark, whilst the tune they are to learn is played over to them on a bird-organ, which has a sort of bird-like note. Over and over again the same air is repeated, until, one by one, the birds begin to imitate what they hear. Directly they do this, light is admitted, and they have a little food given to them. By this means the birds learn to think of the tune and their dinners at the same time, and directly they hear the organ will begin to whistle. They are then turned over to the care of boys, whose sole business it is to go on with their education, each boy having a separate bird placed under his charge, and he plays away from morning to night, or as long as the birds can pay attention, during which time their first teacher, or feeder, goes his rounds, scolding or rewarding his feathered scholars by signs and modes which he has taught them to understand, until they become so perfect, and the tune, whatever it may be, so imprinted on their memory, that they will pipe it for the remainder of their lives."

Bullfinches that are perfect in their song, are worth a great deal of money. Both the male and female sing, but the colours of the male are the brightest. These birds, however, in confinement, lose their brilliancy of hue, and, from growing duskier and duskier, sometimes become entirely black, as if putting on mourning for their lost liberty. The same change has been observed in a bird which lost its mate to whom it had been tenderly attached. It is principally for its power of imitation and memory that this bird is prized. His wild notes, when loud, are not particularly sweet, but at times are very soft and plaintive.

I will conclude with a pretty and affecting little story of a piping bullfinch that once belonged to Sir William Parsons. When young he was a great musician, and had taught his bullfinch to sing "God Save the King." On going abroad, he committed his feathered friend to the care of his sister, with many injunctions to be watchful of its health and happiness.

On his return she told him the little bird had seemed pining away, and was then very ill. Grieved to hear this news, Sir William went at once to the room where it was kept, and, putting his hand into the cage, called the little creature. It knew the voice of the dear master for whom it had so pined and, opening its eyes and shaking its disordered feathers, as if to do him honour, staggered on to his finger, piped "God Save the King," and then fell dead.

THE ALBATROSS.

This is the largest of all sea-birds, and you are not very likely to make acquaintance with him except in a picture. For though the albatross has been seen in our latitudes, yet the southern seas are his native home. There he spreads his long wings and floats over the ocean like a white sea-king. The greater part of his feathers are white, but the head and back are shaded with grey. There are many kinds of albatross, but the great Wandering Albatross, as it is called, is the largest, and though the body is not much bigger than that of a pelican, the wings, which are long and narrow, have been known to measure as much as fourteen feet across when fully expanded, or spread out. Must he not look a noble bird, sailing as he does calmly round and round, far up in the air, over those southern seas? From the length of his wings, the albatross has some little trouble in raising himself from the surface of the water, where he often floats at rest. He has to skim along half flying and half running for some distance, until his wings are clear of the water; then he soars away, seldom flapping his wings, but rising, sinking, and floating through the air, as if kept up by some internal power. As he seldom is obliged to flap his wings he does not get tired of flying, and can remain on the wing for a very, very long time, pursuing his prey, or enjoying the sailing motion through the air.

The albatross feeds on fish or on smaller sea-fowl, and is a very voracious bird; that is, he will eat a great quantity, and devours in a greedy way. His chief food consists of flying-fish, as they are called. The flying-fish is a little like the common herring, but much prettier, for it is covered with bright blue and silver scales, and its fins are also a brilliant azure. It does not really fly. That is, it has no wings, but it has very large strong fins attached near its gills, by means of which it can spring out of the water and dart some distance through the air. This fish is very nice eating, _particularly_ good, and it is sought after very eagerly by larger fish. And not only by fish; the water-fowl who are large enough to eat it, are always on the watch for the flying-fish, and as the poor thing springs from the water to enjoy the bright sunshine and fresh air, or perhaps to escape some of its under-water foes, especially the dolphin who is one of its deadliest enemies, it frequently finds itself snapped up by the albatross before it can return to its native element. The albatross loves also to follow in the wake of ships. For any offal or garbage thrown overboard is welcome to its hungry maw, and sailors do not often destroy this bird. When one is taken, however, they hesitate not to make such use of it as they can; and the large web feet, when cleaned and opened, are favourite tobacco pouches. I have one by me that was taken from a large albatross caught on the voyage from Australia. In Kamtschatka the albatross is caught by the natives and made useful. For in the summer, flocks of these birds make their way up into the northern latitudes, as is supposed in order to prey on the shoals of fish which migrate thither.

The albatross is caught by means of a hook baited with a fish. The "intestines are blown and used as buoys for nets, and the long hollow wing bones as tobacco pipes," but the flesh is not good to eat. The albatross has been seen fully 1000 miles from any shore. Its power of wing must therefore be very great, but when tired it can walk on the water with its strong webbed feet, and the sound of its tread is said to be heard at a great distance. In the breeding season the albatross retires in company with other sea-birds, particularly the penguin, to some rocky shore to build its nest. The penguins' and albatrosses' nests are always found in company, but the penguin robs his neighbour in order to get the scanty materials which are necessary for his own nest. The male albatross takes turns with his mate in hatching the young.

A poor sailor once fell over board from a man-of-war in the Southern Indian Ocean. In an instant he was attacked by two or three albatrosses, and though the ship's boat was immediately lowered to his assistance, nothing of him could be found but his hat, which was pierced through and through by the strong beak of the albatross, the first blow having no doubt penetrated to his brain and killed him.

THE OWL.

This solemn looking bird is seldom to be seen by day. It is strictly a night bird. Its eyes are unable to endure the glare of sunshine, but are formed for seeing in the dim twilight, or in the soft radiance of the moon. There are at least eighty different species of owls. This picture resembles most nearly the Virginian Eagle Owl, an American bird. Our common barn-door owl has no tufts on its head. Some people are foolish and cruel enough to persecute owls, under the plea that they do mischief, destroy pigeon's eggs, etc. But this is a false charge. On the contrary they are very actively useful creatures, and the humane naturalist, Mr. Waterton, says that "if this useful bird caught his food by day instead of hunting it by night, mankind would have ocular demonstration of its utility in thinning the country of mice, and it would be protected and encouraged everywhere. It would be with us what the ibis was with the Egyptians." The ibis is a bird that was found so useful in destroying locusts and serpents in Egypt, that in olden times it was made a capital crime for any one to destroy it. Nay, the idolatrous Egyptians went further, and not only paid divine honours to this bird, worshipping it as a deity whilst alive, but embalmed its body after death, and preserved it in the form of a mummy. You may see many ibis mummies in the Egyptian rooms of the British Museum. Through God's goodness there is no danger of our going quite so far as the Egyptians even if we did do justice to the poor abused owl, and it is very much to be wished that people would learn to see its valuable qualities. There is no doubt owls are amongst the creatures given to us by God to do us real service in keeping down the increase of smaller animals, that would otherwise soon over-run and destroy our food. But as Mr. Waterton elsewhere says, prejudices are hard to overcome, and I suppose the poor owl will be hunted and killed, whenever he is to be found by the ignorant, to the end of the chapter. Some idea may be formed of the rapid clearance an owl would make of vermin from a barn, from the fact that, when he has young, he will bring a mouse to the nest every twelve or fifteen minutes. Mr. Waterton saw his barn owl fly off with a rat he had just shot. And at another time she plunged into the water and brought up in her claws a fish, which she carried away to her nest. The Barn Owl is white, and does not hoot, at least by many this is thought to be the case. The Brown Owl is the hooting or screech owl, and makes a very dismal noise.

The owl can do without drinking for a very long time. Mr. White, of Selborne, says he knew a Brown Owl to live a whole year without water. The owl swallows its prey whole when small, and afterwards brings up from its crop the fur, bones, and other parts that cannot easily be digested, in the form of a round cake. Hawks are said to do the same thing.

The great Virginian Owl is of an immense size, and its cry is said to be very terrible when heard in the lonely American forests, resembling at times the last struggling scream of a person being throttled. Owls will eat raw meat, but their favourite food consists in young mice, and they may often be seen at twilight, hunting like sporting dogs round the meadow paths for field-mice which come out at that hour, and going back every five minutes or so to their nests, to see that all is well at home.

If by chance an owl appears in daylight, he is immediately attacked by all the smaller birds, who know their enemy, and feel pleasure in insulting him when he cannot revenge himself. For the owl grows so confused if he lingers abroad till the sun has risen, that he cannot find his way back to his nest, nor make head against his pursuers, as he would soon do in the dim twilight. Bird fanciers have been known to take advantage of this circumstance in Italy, and tying an owl to a tree in daylight, they lime all the surrounding branches. Troops of little birds soon find out their helpless foe, and hurrying to attack him with their little beaks and claws, they perch on the limed twigs, and are taken by scores.

The Snowy Owl inhabits the north of Europe, but is sometimes seen in more southern regions. It pursues hares, of which it is particularly fond, and often snatches fish from the water, over which it slowly sails, with a sudden grasp of its foot. It often also accompanies sportsmen, that it may share in the sport. In winter, when this owl is fat, the Indians esteem the Snowy owl to be good eating. Its flesh is delicately white.

THE GOOSE.

Have you not often heard people say "as silly as a goose"? Now I am going to tell you that the goose is one of the most sensible birds we know, and not only sensible, but very affectionate, and exceedingly useful to man. I will tell you some stories of Mrs. Goose presently, which will show you her real character. But I must begin with her uses. The goose is to be found in almost every country, and its flesh is very good eating; but it is principally for its feathers and quills that it is valued here. The quills, from which our pens, and in part our paint brushes, are made, are plucked from the pinions of the goose, and the best featherbeds and pillows are stuffed with her feathers. Geese love water and marshy places, and Lincolnshire, which is a fenny place, is famous for breeding them. People there make it their business to keep perhaps as many as a thousand geese, which, in the course of a year, will increase seven-fold, the geese being kept in the houses, and even bedrooms, of their owners whilst hatching, and a person called a gozzard having the charge of them. They are plucked, poor things, for their feathers as often as five times a year, and for their quills once. Even the young goslings of six weeks' old are deprived of their tail feathers, in order, as it is said, to accustom them to this cruel operation. When ready for the London market, the geese are marched slowly up from Lincolnshire to London, in flocks of from two to nine thousand. Being slow travellers, they are on foot from three in the morning to nine in the evening, and during that time get through about nine miles.

Amongst the Romans this bird was held sacred to Juno, their supreme heathen goddess; indeed, it appears to have been looked upon with reverence by all ancient nations, and not longer ago than the time of the Crusades, a goose was carried as a standard from our own country by an irregular band of crusaders. Possibly in former times the good qualities of the goose were better known than now; for the sagacity and affection of this bird have been proved by so many well authenticated instances, that I am at a loss which to select for your entertainment, and must try to choose those you are least likely to have met with already. As a proof of the goose's sagacity, is the following. A goose begun to sit on six or eight eggs, when the dairy maid, thinking she could hatch a larger number, put in as many duck eggs, which could scarcely be distinguished from the others. On visiting the nest next morning, all the duck eggs were found put out of the nest on the ground. They were replaced, but the next morning were again found picked out and laid outside, whilst the goose remained sitting on the whole of her own eggs. Lest she should abandon the nest altogether, she was not troubled with the strange eggs again, but allowed to rear her own children in peace. There are a vast number of stories told of singular and strong attachments formed by geese to people. We hear of one old gander who used to lead his old blind mistress to church, graze in the churchyard during the service (for I ought to have told you that geese eat grass like oxen), and then lead her home again. A goose attached itself so strongly to its master that it forsook for him the society of its fellows, followed him wherever he went, even through the crowded streets, sat, if allowed, upon his lap, and responded with a cry of delight to every sound of his voice. Even to other animals the goose has been known to show strong affection. There was once a goose who had been saved by a dog from the ravenous jaws of a fox. She seemed from that time to centre all her affection on her preserver, left the poultry yard for his side, tried to bite any one at whom she heard him bark, and, if driven away into the field, would sit all day at the gate from which she could gaze on her friend. The dog at last fell ill, but the faithful goose would not leave him, and would have died, for want of food, at his side had not corn been put near the kennel. The dog died, but she would not leave the kennel, and I am sorry to tell you that when a new dog was brought, very much like the old one, as she ran to greet him, hoping it was her old friend restored, he seized her by the neck and put an end to her faithful life. One more story I must tell you, though I have already said so much. A game cock had cruelly attacked a goose on her nest, and even pecked out one of her eyes. The gander took his mate's part, and fought over and over again with the enemy. One day, during his absence, the game cock attacked the goose again, when the gander, hearing a noise, ran up, and, seizing the cock, dragged him into the pond where he ducked him repeatedly until he had made an end of him. In Russia, ganders are taught to fight each other, and a trained gander has been known to sell for twenty pounds.

There is a very beautiful goose called the Egyptian Goose, or goose of the Nile. Its feathers are very handsomely marked with black, brown, green, and white. It is the goose so often represented, in old fresco paintings of heathen temples, by the ancients. This goose is famous for its devotion to its young. The old birds will remain with their offspring during times of most imminent danger, refusing to save themselves and leave their young in peril.

The Canada Goose is also another prettily-marked variety of goose. And although not a native of this country, its migratory habits often bring it to this shore.

THE MAGPIE.

The Magpie is a very pretty and cunning bird. It is easy to teach it to speak, and it may be rendered very tame. Where high trees abound, the magpie chooses the very highest and most difficult to climb for its nest. But otherwise, when secure of not being injured, it will often build in low bushes round about houses. This is particularly the case in Norway and Sweden, where an idea prevails that it is unlucky to kill them.

An interesting account is given by a gentleman of a pair of magpies that built for several successive years in a gooseberry bush near a house in Scotland, where there were no trees for a considerable distance. In order to secure themselves from cats, &c., they brought briars and thorns in quantities all round the bush, and pulled rough prickly sticks so closely and in such numbers in amongst the branches, that even a man would have found the greatest difficulty in getting at their soft warm little abode within. The barrier all round was more than a foot thick. They were kindly protected by the family to whom the garden belonged, but one day the hen magpie was ungrateful enough to seize a little chicken, which she carried up to the top of the house to eat; the poor little thing screamed loudly. But the hen, who can be brave enough when her young are in danger, hearing the cry, flew to the rescue, and soon obtained possession of her chick, which she brought safely down in her beak; nor did it utter one cry then, though I daresay mamma pinched it sadly. I think I can find you one more pleasing story of the magpie. Some boys once took a raven's nest and put it in a waggon in a cart-shed. A magpie, whose nest they had also plundered, hearing the young birds cry, came to them with food, and continued to supply the little ravens until they were given away by the boys.

In Sweden, as I said before, neither the magpie nor its eggs are ever touched, whilst Mr. Hewitson, writing of Norway, says: "The magpie is one of the most abundant, as well as the most interesting of the Norwegian birds; noted for its sly, cunning habits here, its altered demeanour there is the more remarkable. It is upon the most familiar terms with the inhabitants, picking close about their doors, and sometimes walking inside their houses. It abounds in the town of Drontheim, making its nest upon the churches and warehouses. We saw as many as a dozen of them at one time seated upon the gravestones in the churchyard. Few farm-houses are without several of them breeding under the eaves, their nest supported by the spout. In some trees close to houses their nests were several feet in depth, the accumulation of years of undisturbed and quiet possession."

THE PHEASANT.

This beautiful bird comes originally from the East, and takes its name from the river Phasis, in Colchis, Asia Minor, whence it was first brought to Europe by the Argonauts. The pheasant is one of the most beautiful of all fowls, and can only be rivalled by the peacock. The shifting hues upon his neck, and the brilliant scarlet and black around his head, strike every beholder with admiration. Pheasants are very good to eat, but sportsmen are not allowed to shoot them until the 1st of October, in order that they may have time to rear their young. In ancient times the pheasant was held in reverence by the heathen, and it was only on the most solemn occasions that they were used as food, and then only by the emperors of Rome. There are no pheasants in America, and, on account of their short wings and heavy bodies, they never fly from one country to another. But they increase very rapidly in number, a single pair having been known to produce as many as 183 eggs in a season. The sportsman, however, takes care to keep their numbers within due limits. Their habit of squatting or sitting so close to the earth, has been supposed to be an instinctive act to save themselves from the attacks of the hawk, who is unable to master his prey, if large and strong, near the ground, where it could offer resistance. I have met with a story of a pheasant which proves that this bird is very bold and courageous. "A young lady walking alone a few miles from Stirling (in Scotland), observed a beautiful cock pheasant perched on a stone by the road side. Instead of showing timidity at her approach, he flew down upon her, and, with spurs and beak, began a furious assault. Being closely pursued, and seeing no way of escape from the enraged bird, she adopted the only alternative that was left, namely, of seizing her adversary, whom she carried home, but soon afterwards released; on the door being opened, however, he went out without any sign of fear, and, with a deliberate step, paced backwards and forwards in front of the house, and manifested an inclination to join the fowls in the poultry yard. It should be remarked that the young lady, when attacked, wore a scarlet mantle, which probably excited the irritability of the pheasant, as it is well known to do that of the turkey-cock, and some other animals."

Wild pheasants feed on grain, seed, green leaves, and insects. They have been seen as eager as country children after the ripe blackberries in the hedges, or, later in the year, after sloes and haws. The root of the buttercup is also a very favourite food of the pheasant, and they will eat greedily of acorns. When kept in confinement, the young birds require very careful feeding with ants' eggs, and many other kinds of soft provision.

THE FLAMINGO.