Part 9

In some birds, the wing, when spread out, is much longer than all the body. The wing folds up, something like a crab’s claw, or as you would shut a knife. In birds that are walkers, and not flyers, the first wing-bone is short. The penguin, which never flies, has a little short wing, which looks like a hand, without any arm.

Now, we come to the bird’s legs. In your leg, the thigh-bone, the one from the hip to the knee, is the longest. In birds, it is the shortest. Even in very long-legged birds, as the stork, the thigh-bone is short. The length comes in the bone from the knee to the foot.

Thus, when the bird flies, its large, hollow, air-filled thigh-bone is drawn up to the body, and the lower part of the leg is held backward, and does not hinder the flight.

The foot of most birds has four toes. But some, as the ostrich, have less. I shall talk to you about feet in the next lesson.

The first thing you notice about the bird’s head is the beak. I shall tell you about beaks, also, in the next lesson. Now, I shall only say, that the beak is the horny, outer end of the jaw-bone. Birds never have any teeth. The beak often forms the larger part of the bird’s head. The head is small for the body, and nearly flat on top.

When you see a bird with two things like horns on its head, as some owls have, do not think that they are either horns or ears. Birds have no horns. These things are only feather head-dresses. Birds have ears, but the ear-hole is hidden under the feathers. Birds have very keen sight, very keen power of smell.[24] They have loud, clear voices. Many of them have very sweet voices. I suppose they have as good a sense of taste as we have. I notice that parrots like sugar and cake, and many birds like fruit.

What do birds have instead of teeth? They have inside of the body a gizzard. It is part of the stomach. It is so made that it can grind up the food as teeth would. Some birds swallow bits of shell and gravel, which help the grinding.

The food goes into a bag called a crop. From the crop it goes to the gizzard, where it is ground. Mother birds feed their very young birds with food which has been softened in this way.

When you look at a bird, you will first of all notice the feathers. They are its clothing, and help it in flying. Next to the body grows a soft down. There are patches on the body where only down grows. These spots, bare of feathers, give room for the play or motion of the larger feathers. Such spots do not show, as the over-lapping of the large and small feathers covers them.

The tail and wing feathers are the largest. The quill part of the feather is hollow. You cannot move the hairs on your head. The bird can move its feathers, and turns the large ones flat or sideways, as it changes its flight. The smaller feathers are called coverts. They are laid on one close over the other. They are chiefly for clothes, as the large ones are chiefly for flying.

Many birds have splendid feathers. Have you seen the great train of a peacock? But the peacock is not a bird that flies much. His tail would hinder him in the air. All he can do in flying is to rise to a roof or the limb of a tree. Some other birds have one or two long gay tail plumes which do not hinder their flight.

When the little bird is first hatched it has no feathers. Have you seen the wee chicks, just out of the shell? They are dressed in down. What fluffy balls they are!

Peep into the robin’s nest, and see the nearly naked birds. They have for clothes only a few long hairs. Do not touch them. Do not go when the mother bird is there. But peep in each day, and watch how the feathers grow. Or, you can watch feathers grow on your baby canary. They grow very fast.

When first the robins begin to fly, notice that their feathers are not quite like those of the old bird. The young robin’s breast is spotted, not plain red. His feathers lie loosely. He looks puffy. Birds moult or cast their coats. They drop their feathers in hot weather. This gives them a chance to change old broken feathers for new ones. They get warm new coats for winter. They do not drop all the feathers at once. But some feathers go and some come, until the moult is over.

Most birds have some little bags of oil in their skin, on the back part of their bodies. They can press the oil out of these bags with their bills. Have you ever watched birds preening, or dressing themselves? They are spreading this oil over their feathers to keep them soft and clean.

Birds are very lovely creatures. They have graceful, elegant shapes, eyes bright like jewels, and very fine bright colors. They are also very wonderful in their ways. And many of them are very useful.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] Some naturalists deny that birds have the sense of smell to any degree, but experiments with blind birds seem to prove that this sense is well developed.

LESSON XXIX.

BEAKS AND CLAWS.

Let us go out and take a walk together. What is this on the ground? It is a bird’s foot. You know it by the four toes, three before and one behind; by the scale-like, rough skin; by the long, sharp nails on the toes.

What is this other thing lying here? That! Why, it is a bird’s bill, or beak. You see that it is made in two pieces, of a hard, bony substance. Now from the beak and the bill, can you go on and build up the bird for me? Can you tell me what kind of bird it was; where it lived; what it did; what it ate?

“No,” you say, “of course not.” But let us see. Are all beaks alike? Think. “No,” you say, “they are not alike.” The duck’s bill is flat, and soft, and spoon-shaped. The parrot’s bill is hard, not wide, but high. The upper part bends over the under. It is curved like a hooked nose.

The hen has a much smaller beak; it is thick, short, hard, pointed. The two parts join evenly. The swallow has a very short, pointed bill. It can open its mouth very wide. It is a three-cornered bill,--like a triangle in shape. But the humming-bird has a very long, slim bill; almost as slim as a knitting-needle.

Once I saw a kingfisher. He had a thick, strong bill. It was nearly as large as his body. I wondered how he could carry it. In a museum I saw a bird with a bill as wide as my hand, and longer. It looked heavy enough to make the bird fall down.

Now I think you have told me a good many things about beaks. Let us take a little look at them, and see what kinds of feet go with them. How does the duck live? He lives mostly in the water. On land, if he walks, he waddles, but he swims with grace.

He dives down in the water, thrusts his bill into the mud, and feels about for things to eat. There, you see, he needs a wide bill, shaped like a spoon, or shovel. He does not need a very hard bill, as mud is soft. But he needs a bill that can feel the right kind of food, and pick it up, just as your fingers feel things for which you search in a bag.

Now what kind of feet has a duck? It has large feet, with three long front toes, and one short hind toe, rather high up on the foot. What you notice in the feet is a web, or skin, joining the toes together quite up to the nail.

Have you watched the duck in the water? Have you seen him use these webbed feet for paddles? Now the swimming birds, to which ducks, geese, and swans belong, all have webbed feet. They all have the broad, flat, rather soft bill.

Thus, when you find a wide full-webbed foot, you say, “This bird was built for swimming. It had a light, wide body, shaped much like a boat. Its feet were its paddles. Its wings were not very large. It had very thick feathers, to keep it warm. They were oily to keep it dry. It fed on water plants, seeds, grain, and things that it found in the mud.”

Sometimes you will find the beak of a swimming bird telling a different story. It will be a very strong beak, with notches along it. It is a fish-eating swimmer. Its rough bill is to hold fast to the slippery fish.

Then, too, you may find webbed feet which have a new story to tell. You may find a webbed foot, quite small, with a very long leg. The web goes only part way to the toe nail. That bird could not swim. No. He was a wading bird.

His long stilt-like legs held his body above the water, while he watched for his fish food. The webs in his feet served, not to make him a paddle-foot, but just to keep him from sinking in the soft sand or mud. Or you may find the webs changed to broad flaps on each toe.

Now turn to the hen. Is her beak made for digging in mud, under water? No. Her short, strong beak is for picking up grain or insects from the ground. Now see what feet she has to match this beak. She has walking feet. Her feet are large and strong, with separate toes and strong nails. How does she use her feet? She spends nearly all her time scratching and digging in the ground. She scratches up the earth with her toes. She finds insects, worms, larvæ, and such things, to eat.

Once more look at a beak. Take the swallow’s short, wide, widely opening beak. Watch the swallow as he flies. Now up, now down! Now here, now there! He wheels, he makes a dash! He feeds upon the wing. He eats insects. See that short, broad mouth, which opens as wide as his whole head, and shows his big yellow throat. Is it not just the thing for catching insects?

The swallow sweeps after the insect, and into that open throat it goes! What story will this beak tell?

The story of a bird made for flying fast and far. The story of a bird built to wheel and turn quickly. It must have large wings, a very light body. As its head is so wide, it must be flat, or it will be too large.

This bird does not need to walk. Its food is in the air. Its legs and feet will be very small. Its toes will be long, and made for holding or clinging to trees or roofs. Its feathers must be close set; and its tail be well shaped for a rudder.

Suppose some one shows you the foot of an ostrich. It is a huge foot, with two great toes. You will say at once “that is a walking foot.” It is not to be carried into the air. These great toes are not for digging, but for walking or running.

Look at the soles of these toes. They are cushioned or padded thick. That bird must live where the soil is soft, and these padded feet will keep him from sinking. Yes, he lived on the desert sand. He is the largest bird in the world. He can run faster than a horse. Such a bird could not be lifted into the air on wings. He has short, stout wings, which he flaps as he runs, and as they have large feathers on them, they catch the air as sails do, and so help him along.

His bill is like a huge hen’s bill. He eats melons, grass, and grain.

These are some of the stories told by beaks and feet.

LESSON XXX.

TREE, GROUND, AND WATER BIRDS.

In old times they told fables of birds which had no feet, and lived always on the wing. There are no such birds. All birds have feet, all rest from flying. But the motion of flying is so beautiful and easy, that it is no wonder that birds of strong flight are much upon the wing.

The eagle and hawk families are very swift of flight, and spend most of their time mounting and wheeling. They are keen of sight, and from great heights will see their prey, and swoop down upon it.

The swallow family seems never tired of flying. They feed upon the wing. The tiny humming-birds move their wings so quickly, you cannot see them. They hover with this motion while they drink honey from flowers. They are very seldom seen resting.

Pigeons are among our swiftest birds. Have you noticed how thirsty pigeons are? That is because they are very hot blooded. They need much hot blood to warm up in their lungs the air which they drive through their hollow bones. Thus they make a kind of balloon of their bodies. The pigeon’s body helps to keep it up in the air.

Many of the birds that live much on the wing build their nests on or in trees. I shall tell you a little of nests in another lesson. Now we will speak of one or two tree-living birds.

The butcher bird, or shrike, is about the size of a robin. It is a pretty bird, gray or brown in color. Its food is living things, as beetles, bees, mice, and young birds. It has a very curious habit. It brings home part of its food, and hangs it on a thorn near its nest.

The butcher bird chooses trees with thorns or sharp twigs, and makes its nest among them. Then on the thorns, all about the nest, it hangs insects and little animals. I saw one of these nests once, about which hung a young bluebird, a beetle, three bees, and a big spider.

I have thought it may hang up little dead animals partly as a trap for big blue-bottle flies. For these flies cluster about the dead bodies, and the shrike, keeping guard near his nest, picks them up at his ease.

A much nicer bird, one which I wish lived in our country, is the bower bird. This bird makes its nest in a tree, but fashions a little arbor for itself, among the grasses. Into its grass palace it brings all the pretty things it can find. Shells, bright stones, bits of cloth, glass, bones, flowers, are all brought to its little play-house. Would you not love a bird which had such pretty ways?

Of all the birds in our own land, none is more splendid than the cardinal bird of the South. He has a crimson beak and plumes. His song is very sweet. He is a brave bird, and very kind and polite to his mate. It is very cruel to kill such a creature for its feathers.

In the North, we have the blue jay, nearly as fine a bird as the cardinal. He has a jet-black collar, a bright coat of shaded blue, and a white neck-tie. Indeed, he is a fine, gay, saucy, cheerful bird. But he has a very naughty way of breaking up the nests of other birds, and stealing their eggs.

The jay likes to have his home near the water, and when you go near it, he comes out and scolds loudly.

But now we will turn from birds which make their homes in trees, and look a little at birds that live on the ground. You will at once think of the barn-yard fowls, and their many cousins.

Have you seen a barn-yard full of these birds? It is a fine sight. There are the spotted guinea fowls with their fretful cry, and the great peacocks spreading their splendid trains. There are the black, white, yellow, spotted, red, and green-breasted cocks and hens, and there are pheasants which seem to be dressed in rainbows.

Among these fowls the turkey struts, spreading his tail like a wheel, and scraping the tips of his wings on the ground, as he walks high on his toes. Far out in the Western woods, you may see the wild turkey, which is nearly as fine a bird as a pheasant or a peacock.

Turkey hens are very good mothers. They seem very fond of their little ones, and are always on the watch to guard them. By nature they are shy birds, and like to run away, and hide their nests. One will go off and hide a nest, and seem very proud to come back with a train of fifteen or more little ones.

Grouse, partridges, and quails, are ground-living birds, related to our common fowls. So are the pretty prairie-hens of the West. The quail is a dear little bird. Sometimes in the winter, when the snow is deep, and it cannot find food, it will come to the barn-yard or the door-step, and feed with the fowls. Once, in the woods, I came softly to an opening, and there were about twenty quails feeding on a bed of squaw-berries. They ran about picking up berries and making happy little sounds, like a band of children enjoying a holiday.

One day I was going through a pine-wood path, when a mother quail and ten little ones ran across the roadway. She hid in the brush, and began to call, “Come! Come! Come!” and from the other side of the path, little squeaks replied, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Soon three more brown, fluffy balls ran across the road. Then out ran the little brown mother in great distress. Her neck feathers stood out in a collar. “Come! come! come!” she called. “Wee! wee! wee!” said a little faint voice, and tumbling along the foot path, went one more small bird. “Now she has them all,” I thought.

But still, out of the brush, the anxious mother cried, “Come! come!” and at last, dropping into ruts, rolling in the dust, too new and weak even to say, “Wee,” hardly able to keep on his legs, went the tiniest little bird! He followed his mother’s voice, and slipped in among the brush and pine needles.

When the little brown mother had all her brood, she made a sweet, low, glad note in her hiding place. “O Mrs. Quail!” I cried; “can you count? Can you count fifteen?” She never told me whether she could or not. But she had counted fifteen that time, that was sure.

Now, let us take a peep at the birds which live mostly on the water; you will think first of the great, solemn white swans. Then of the snowy geese and of the parti-colored ducks. What splendid colors ducks have!

If you live by the sea, you will often watch the gulls and gannets with their wide white wings. All these birds build their nests in reeds and grass along the bank, or in ledges of rock in a cliff.

One day I was sitting behind some rocks on a little island. All at once I heard a hearty laugh. I rose up softly, and looked over the rocks. There on the water sat, all alone, a water-fowl. I hid my head and gave a loud “ha! ha! ha!”

Then the bird threw back his head, and gave a laugh with all its might. It made me think of what my grandfather used to say to the boys, if they were too loud in their mirth for his taste. “Do not laugh like a loon,” he would say.

Is it news to you that a bird can laugh? The water-fowl and I laughed at each other for a long time. Then I rose and stood in plain sight. Down he went under the water, and I saw him no more. I wish you would read a lovely poem written by the poet Bryant, about “The Water-fowl.”

Once I was out on the sea in a boat. We saw lying on the water the tail of a fish. We rowed near. Well! Here was a sight! A large duck, called an alwife,[25] had tried to swallow a fish. But the fish was too big for her throat. Having got part of it in, she could get the fish neither in nor out. So she and the fish had both choked to death, and were floating around in the water.

A very famous man once said, that he thought a gull must be the most happy of birds. It can swim, fly, walk, almost equally well. It is at home on earth, water, or air.

I have seen a bird called “The Diver.” It goes down under water for its food. It uses its wings under water to swim with, and will stay there a long time. Most ducks will dive, and come up a long way from where they went down.

The water birds all have close, thick plumage. Most of the down which we use, comes from the water birds of the far North. The down not only keeps them warm, but keeps air in its meshes, and helps them to float. It is like a cork jacket for them.

Water birds live chiefly on fish, crabs, and little water animals. But many of them eat seeds and berries of plants growing along the coast. They will readily pick up any kind of food thrown upon the water. Gulls follow ships for days to get the scraps thrown overboard by the sailors.

FOOTNOTES:

[25] Alwife is probably a short form of “Old Wife.” This duck is often called the “Old Squaw” on the Cape Cod coast.

LESSON XXXI.

ON THE WING.

In the spring and summer, you go to field and garden, and you hear and see many birds. As you walk about the woods, you may see a dozen kinds of birds in a few minutes. There will go a yellow-bird, looking like a canary. There, all splendid in black and gold, an oriole is busy building his curious nest. There flies from the swamp a red-wing blackbird. A big woodpecker drums on the nearest tree. A bluebird with a russet breast sits singing on the top rail of a fence. Sparrows, swallows, crows, are everywhere.

Out of the grass whirrs up a lark with his brown and yellow coat, and black velvet collar. The thrush sings in a bush. The catbird, in the shade, cheers his mate with a rich, mellow note, and then darts out into the sunshine in his glossy drab dress.

But in late autumn, or in winter, you walk abroad, and where are all the birds? A crow may sit, scolding, on a dead limb. A social robin may flit down to your door. The velvet sparrows may be balls of noise and feathers. But where are the other birds? Are they all dead?

Oh, no! They have flown off to sunny lands, where they will have mild weather, and food in plenty, and green trees. The birds _migrate_. What is it to migrate? It is to go from one place to another a long way off. They migrate as the season changes.

Let us take that pretty bird, the bobolink, as an example of a bird on his travels. In the winter months he is feasting and singing in the warm West India Islands. There he finds grubs, insects, and seeds in plenty. He grows so fat, that they call him the butter-bird.

About the first of April, he finds Jamaica too hot for him, and flies over to Georgia, or South Carolina. He settles in the rice-fields, and eats so much rice that he is a great trouble to the planters. They call him the rice-bird. But they are soon rid of him. About the middle of May, the rice-bird, with hundreds of his relations, goes up to Virginia and Pennsylvania.

At this time, he eats May-flies, caterpillars, and various insects. But his taste for seeds continues, and he devours the young wheat and barley at a great rate. The farmers name him the reed-bird. Many reed-birds are shot, and sent to market.

In spite of the guns, the bobolink seems now in the gayest hour of his life. He sings with all his might, and his black and white coat, with its touches of yellow, is at its best.

But again he starts northward. He goes up to New York, and New England, and appears in the orchards and wheat-fields, at the end of May, or the first of June. There he is called, from his song, the bobolink.

But Mr. and Mrs. Bobolink must now set themselves to the serious business of making a nest, and rearing a family. They choose a good nest place, and begin to build in a great hurry. Mrs. Bobolink is not so gayly dressed as her mate. She is brown, with a little dull yellow in her plumage.

Mr. Bobolink ends his wildest songs when the little birds come from the shells. Their mouths are always wide open, crying for food. Mr. Bobolink is very busy feeding his children. He flies back and forth all day long, bringing insects to his nursery. The gay concerts are ended.

At this time, too, Mr. Bobolink changes his clothes. He puts on a working suit, with more brown in it. His gay plumes do not come back until the next spring.

After the little ones learn to fly, in August, if it is hot, the whole family may go to Canada, for a trip. But as soon as the cool September mornings come, all the bobolinks think of the South. They gather in great companies, and turn their heads toward the West Indies.

Now and then, they may rest for a few hours, or a warm day or so, but they fly pretty steadily southward. When cold weather has come, we see no more bobolinks. They are all busy eating and singing in the sunny tropic lands.

I wish you would all read, and perhaps learn to recite a charming poem called “Robert o’ Lincoln.” It was written, by the great poet Bryant, about this little bird of many names, and many homes.

Now from the story of the bobolink, you see the manner of this migration of birds. You see _why_ birds migrate. It is to keep where they find the food and the weather which they prefer. Its _cause_ is the change of the season. As the season changes the food changes.

Some birds move away because it is growing too hot where they are, and they like cooler places. Again, there are birds which stay near us in the winter, and fly North in the summer, almost to the land of constant snow.

Those birds which breed in the cold polar regions often find a winter home in the Northern States. But some birds which breed in the coldest climates fly to hot countries for their winter of rest and play.