Part 5

Shady woods, well-timbered dells, and stream-sides with plenty of matured trees clustering round are beloved haunts of the Chiffchaff, which builds its nest on or near the ground amongst tall grass tangled with brambles and small bushes, hedge and ditch banks, and sometimes in ivy growing against trees and walls. The structure is oval, domed, and has an entrance hole in the side. It is made of dead grass, withered leaves, and moss--sometimes a few fern fronds are employed--and is lined with hair and feathers.

The eggs, numbering from five to seven, are white, sparingly spotted with dark purplish-brown.

It is by no means an easy matter for the inexperienced ornithologist to distinguish the Chiffchaff from the Willow Wren, although the species under notice is a trifle smaller and duller in colour.

Its song, if two oft-repeated notes can be dignified by such a name, is, however, quite unique and impossible to confuse with that of any other British bird. The two notes sound something like _chiff chaff_ or _chip chop_, and are uttered four or five times in succession as the bird hunts from bough to bough and tree to tree after its insect food.

To some people it is said to grow exceedingly wearisome, but to me it always sounds such a part of the pleasant things of spring that it never palls.

The call note sounds something like _tweet_ or _wheet_, and the alarm cry like _whooid_ or _whooit_.

=THE WHITETHROAT.=

The Whitethroat, or Greater Whitethroat as it is sometimes called in contradistinction to its near and rarer relative, the Lesser Whitethroat, is a very common summer visitor to our shores, arriving about the second or third week in April and taking its departure again in September and October.

It is about five and a half inches in length. The upper parts of its body are brown tinged with grey on the head and neck, and reddish elsewhere; wings dusky, the coverts being edged with reddish-buff; tail quills dull brown, the outer ones edged and tipped with white, which is prominently shown when the bird is flying away from the observer. The chin and throat are white, accounting for the aptitude of the bird’s popular name; breast and under parts pale grey, tinged with a beautiful rosy flesh-colour.

The female lacks the grey on her head, also the rosy tint on her under parts.

This species breeds in suitable localities all over England, Wales, Ireland, and the greater part of Scotland.

It builds its nest in all kinds of low bushes, such as bramble, thorn, briar, and furze, and is so partial to nettles that it is generally known amongst country people as the “Nettle Creeper.” The structure, though deep, is of a very flimsy character, and consists of dead grass stems and horsehair, the latter being used as a lining.

The eggs number from four to six, of a dirty greenish-white ground colour, speckled and spotted with brown and grey, generally evenly distributed over the surface of the shell.

The song consists of a few sweet and oft-repeated notes, delivered with great vehemence, not to say passion, the vocalist appearing to labour under considerable excitement whilst hurrying through his brief carol. This species commences to sing very early in the morning, and during May and June often continues until after it is dark. It also sings on the wing, as well as from the top of a hedge or bramble bush. Last summer I sat down to rest between a number of scattered thorn bushes and a wide old hedgerow on a Surrey hillside. A few moments afterwards a small bird left the hedge and took refuge in one of the bushes about twenty-five yards below me. Its notes and the white line on either side of the tail told me unmistakably that it was a Whitethroat. Presently the little songster shot up into the air to a height of some twenty or thirty feet, and with outspread tail and head and wings, performing all kinds of strange antics, bubbled out its hurried notes as it descended to the topmost spray of the bush which it had just left. This performance was frequently repeated until his mate left the hedgerow behind me and joined him, when his excitement appeared to abate to some extent.

The call notes of this species are very varied, and have been written down by different observers in a variety of ways. The most general are those sounding like _cha, cha_ and _purr, purr_.

=THE NIGHTINGALE.=

The Nightingale measures a little over six inches in length, and is of a uniform tawny-brown on its upper parts, except in the case of the tail coverts and quills, which are of a rusty-red tinge, conspicuously seen when the bird is flying away from the observer. Chin, throat, and all under parts greyish-white tinged with brown on the breast and reddish on the under tail coverts.

This thrice-welcome migrant arrives upon our shores in April, and leaves again in August. It is peculiarly limited in its breeding area, which extends no farther west than the Valley of the Exe and only to York in a northerly direction. Of course, odd specimens have been heard by trustworthy observers beyond these limits, but they are exceptional, and the species is unknown both in Scotland and Ireland. Attempts have been made from time to time to induce the bird to extend its range, but they have one and all proved futile. The late Sir John Sinclair had numbers of eggs sent from the South of England and placed in Robins’ nests in Caithness, but although the closely allied foster-mothers successfully hatched and reared the young Nightingales they went off and never returned. The experiment of turning adult birds down in certain parts of Wales beyond the localities reached by free members of the species also proved a failure. It is said to “be met with only where the cowslip grows kindly,” but this extraordinary assertion is difficult to understand, because it is hard to remember where that common and hardy plant does not “grow kindly.”

The nest is made of dry grass stalks, dead leaves, moss, bits of bark, and fibrous roots, and is lined with fine grass and horsehair. It is built on or near the ground, on a little bank at the foot of a tree, at the bottom of a hedgerow, or on the stump of a felled tree; in woods, plantations, copses, quiet gardens, and on commons where clumps of hazels, brambles, and briars grow.

The eggs number from four to six, of a uniform olive-brown or olive-green colour. Occasionally greenish-blue specimens are found.

It would be difficult to overpraise the almost perfect song of this bird, the king of all British feathered melodists; for although I greatly admire the vocal powers of the Song Thrush, Skylark, and Blackcap, I do not think that any one of them can come near the Nightingale for perfection of phrasing, rich mellowness, or the loud, clear, silvery sound of its notes. I agree with Mr. Witchell, who has studied the songs of birds more closely, perhaps, than any other living man, when he says:

“This tempestuous song, this wild melody, the triumphal song of Nature herself, pierces beyond the ear right to the heart of the listener.”

The Nightingale is the only bird I ever remember to have heard singing in a fog, and this occurred in Surrey a little before midnight during the third week in May.

The male members of this species arrive upon our shores from ten days to a fortnight earlier than the females, and sing by night in order to attract the latter, which travel during the hours of darkness. As soon as the young ones are hatched the superb song ceases, and both parent birds confine their energies to the wants of the chicks.

Poets of all ages have given the song of the Nightingale a great deal of attention, but how strangely they have gone astray in regard to the bird’s habits! It appears to have appealed to most of them on account of its practice of singing by night, and the touch of melancholy in the three or four lengthened notes that commence softly and gradually rise until they are so loud and strong that they may be heard at a great distance. Curiously enough, they made the mistake of thinking that their Philomel only sang by night, and was the solitary bird that did so.

Even our immortal William of Avon says:

“The Nightingale, if he should sing by day When every goose is cackling would be thought No better a musician than the Wren.”

The fact that the bird sings by day as well as by night was known, however, to the ancients, because Virgil mentions it. Readers of this little volume will also gather that other feathered musicians, such as the Sedge and Grasshopper Warblers, Woodlark, and Cuckoo, also sing by night.

Individual members of this species differ in the quality of their notes, as was observed as far back as Pliny’s time.

The alarm note sounds like _wate, wate_, _cur, cur_, or _witt, krr_.

=THE LESSER WHITETHROAT.=

The Lesser Whitethroat arrives in April and leaves again in September. It is far less numerous than its larger relative, and is not so widely distributed over the British Islands. This bird is most plentiful in the South and East of England, becoming scarcer towards the North and West, rare in Scotland, and absent altogether from Ireland as a breeding species.

It measures just over five inches in length, and has the upper parts greyish-brown, wings and tail dusky, the feathers being edged with greyish-brown instead of chestnut, which distinguishes it from the Greater Whitethroat. The under parts are greyish-white.

This species loves high, thick hedges rather than large woods, and builds its nest, which is a slight and flimsy structure made of dead grass, stalks, and lined with horsehair, in hedges, briar, bramble, gorse, and other bushes.

The eggs, four or five in number, are white or light creamy white, with the faintest suggestion of green in ground colour, spotted and speckled with ash-grey and greenish-brown.

The Lesser Whitethroat is inferior to the Greater as a musician, but makes up for its deficiency in quality by its liberality in regard to quantity, for it sings almost incessantly, especially during sultry weather, and keeps on until very late in the summer. Its notes are without variation, hurriedly delivered, and sound like _sip, sip, sip_.

The bird’s call notes have been likened to the words _check, check_.

=THE SISKIN.=

This favourite cage pet measures a little over four and a half inches in length, has the top of the head black and the upper parts of the body greenish-olive, streaked with black, except the greater wing coverts and quills, which are brownish-black, tipped and bordered with yellow; rump yellow, upper tail coverts greenish-olive. The tail is slightly forked and dusky black, yellowish on the upper half, except in the case of the two centre feathers. A yellow streak runs over and behind the eye. Chin black, throat and breast yellowish-green, under parts greyish-white streaked with dusky black.

The female is a trifle smaller, and lacks the black on her crown and chin.

Although the nest of this species, which used to be called the Aberdevine amongst bird-catchers, has been found occasionally in various parts of England, it is chiefly known as a winter visitor, and may be seen, along with flocks of Redpolls, feeding upon the seeds of the alder, birch, and larch, from September until April. It breeds regularly, however, in the great pine forests of Scotland and in certain parts of Ireland.

The nest is generally placed on the branch of a fir at a considerable height from the ground, although specimens have been found even in furze and juniper bushes. It is composed of slender twigs, dried grass, moss, wool, and horsehair, lined with vegetable down, rabbit’s fur, and a few soft feathers.

From four to six eggs are laid, of a greyish-white ground colour, tinted with green or pale bluish-green, spotted and speckled with pale and dark reddish-brown, sometimes streaked with the latter colour.

The song of the Siskin has been likened to the running-down of a piece of clockwork, and it used to be a great favourite amongst stocking weavers in Germany as a cage pet, on account of the fact that the tones of its song mingled so as to resemble the noise made by stocking looms.

One day I watched and listened to a cock in a Highland forest for some time. He sat for a little while on the topmost spray of a tall fir tree uttering his somewhat low but sweet and varied notes, then took an excursion into the air as if he intended to fly away, but changed his mind and his course several times, and on each occasion repeated his melody, and finally came back and alighted on the same twig from which he started.

The call notes are shrill and oft-repeated during flight, sounding something like _tit, tit, tit_, or _tut, tut, tut_.

=THE SEDGE WARBLER.=

The Sedge Warbler, or Sedge bird, as this restless, noisy little creature is frequently called, is by far the most numerous member of its family visiting the British Islands during the summer. It arrives in April, and takes its departure again for its winter quarters, which extend as far as South Africa, in September, although odd specimens are said to have been seen even in winter.

It is about four inches and three-quarters in length, greyish-brown on its upper parts, streaked with dusky brown; its chin and throat are white, and under parts pale buff. Over the eye is a conspicuous yellowish white streak, which, together with the dark stripes on its back, readily distinguish it from its relative, the Reed Warbler.

This species breeds in suitable localities nearly all over the British Islands, with exception of the Shetlands. I have met with it in tiny clumps of willows growing by small stream-sides high up amongst the Westmorland Fells.

Its home is amongst reeds, rushes, osiers, brambles, and all kinds of bushes near to lakes, swamps, rivers, ponds, and ditches, although it may occasionally be met with breeding at a considerable distance from water.

The Sedge Warbler builds its nest in rushes, brambles, bushes, and almost any kind of thick, tangled herbage. It is generally lower down than that of the Reed Warbler, sometimes quite upon the ground. I have found it on several occasions upon young pollards a yard from the ground, and once in a hedgerow at an elevation of five or six feet. The structure is loosely built and composed of grass and moss outside, lined with willow down and horsehair. It is frequently adorned with a large white feather protruding over the outside edge or bending inwards in such a way as to hide the eggs. These number five or six, of a pale yellowish-brown clay colour, clouded and mottled with darker brown, and often streaked at the larger end with hair-like black lines.

This bird is a persistent singer, with a harsh voice, an inordinate fancy for repetition, and a great faculty for mimicking the cries of other birds. It is willing to oblige anyone who will listen to its chattering, half-scolding, and always hurried song, night or day. A handful of gravel or mould thrown into any reeds or bushes wherein a male Sedge Warbler is roosting will nearly always induce the bird to pour forth a stream of melody.

I have frequently heard members of this species singing nearly all night long on the Norfolk Broads, and many times when taking my photographic plates out of wash at two o’clock in the morning I have started a chorus around me by emptying the buckets of water with a splash over the stern of the little houseboat in which I was staying.

The male has another peculiarity which is not often mentioned in books. In the early part of the season he is fond of taking little fluttering excursions in the air a few yards above the reeds whilst he bubbles forth his merry, hurried song. This is, no doubt, to attract the females during the pairing season.

I have heard members of this species imitate the notes of the Landrail, Common Sparrow, Nightingale, Whitethroat, Chaffinch, Robin, Swallow, and Blackbird. In the case of the last three species an individual mimicked all their notes within half a minute, not pausing as the Marsh Warbler does, but running straight on in a breathless hurry, and then turning back to repeat the whole over again.

The alarm cry of the Sedge Warbler when disturbed is a harsh _churr_. It also has another, sounding something like _tut-tut_. The bird makes use of a soft call resembling _wheet-wheet_.

=THE LESSER REDPOLE.=

This is the smallest of our Finches, measuring only about four and a half inches in length. Its crown is crimson-red, hind part of head and rest of upper parts dark brown, the feathers being edged with reddish-brown. Upper tail-coverts tinged with crimson. Wings and tail dusky, edged with pale reddish-brown, the latter forked. Chin black, throat and breast rose-pink to vermilion, rest of under parts light greyish, streaked on the sides with dull brown. The female is rather smaller, and lacks the red on her breast and upper tail-coverts.

The Lesser Redpole has bred, somewhat erratically it is true, in nearly every county in England, but is most numerous in the northern counties and in Scotland. It also nests in Ireland, where it is scarcer in the south than the north. Its nest is a very pretty little structure made of a few slender, dead twigs (used as a foundation), dead grass stalks, moss, and rootlets beautifully lined with willow down and occasionally hair and feathers. It is built in willows, alders, firs, hawthorn, birch, hazel, and other trees and bushes. It has also been found in heather.

The eggs, which number from four to six, are of a very pale bluish-green ground colour, spotted generally about the larger end with orange-red, and sometimes streaked with a darker tint.

The song of this species is not of a high order in regard to quality, and has been variously described by different authorities. Professor Newton says, “Towards the end of winter the cocks break out in song, which, though not powerful, is lively and agreeable, and begin to indulge in the characteristic exultant flight during which it is generally uttered.” Mr. Henry Seebohm describes it as “a short, monotonous trill, clear and not unmusical”; whilst Bechstein’s judgment is that “Its feeble warblings are only a low, continued twittering.”

In spite, however, of its shortcomings as a vocalist, it is a favourite cage pet, especially with children, because of its boldness, docility, and intelligence.

It is called the Lesser Redpole, because it is rather smaller than its near relative, the Mealy Redpole, which breeds on the Continent and sometimes visits this country in winter. The breeding area of the Lesser Redpole seems to be almost restricted to the British Islands. This species flocks during the autumn, and although many remain with us throughout the winter, numbers migrate to the Continent.

The call notes are _pe-weet_ and _kreek, kreek, hayid_.

=THE REED WARBLER.=

This species arrives upon our shores during the latter part of April, and leaves again for its winter quarters in Africa during September, although a specimen is said to have been shot in Ireland, where the bird does not breed, as late even as December.

The Reed Warbler is about five and a half inches in length, is brown on its upper parts, tinged with chestnut, which becomes more pronounced on the rump and white on the under parts, tinged with reddish buff, especially on the breast and sides. Its legs and toes are slaty-brown.

It breeds in reed and osier beds and other places where there is plenty of cover to suit its skulking habits, on the banks of lakes, ponds, and sluggish streams, and is much commoner on the east and southern sides of England than the west and north. I have met with it commonly in certain parts of Gloucestershire, and it is said to be fairly numerous in Wales. It does not, however, breed in Scotland or Ireland.

The nest is a very beautiful structure, formed of long blades of dead grass, seed, branches of reeds, and bits of wool lined inside with fine dead grass and hair. It is cleverly suspended between two, three, four, or even as many as five reed stems at varying heights above the water. I have, however, on several occasions seen it in willow and alder bushes at some distance from that element, and it has even been found in a lilac bush in such a very unlikely neighbourhood as Hampstead.

The structure is very deep for the size of the builder, but this peculiarity of its architecture serves a very useful purpose, for when the reeds to which it is attached are violently swayed to and fro by strong gusts of wind, it prevents the eggs from rolling out and away to certain destruction.

The eggs, numbering from four to six, are of a dull greenish-white or greyish-green ground colour, spotted and blotched with darker greyish-green and light brown.

The male helps the female not only in the work of feeding the chicks, but in brooding, and it is a very pretty sight to see them exchanging places on the nest.

The song of this species somewhat resembles that of the Sedge Warbler in being full of chatter, but is not so loud or harsh, and is delivered, as a rule, whilst the singer is hiding amongst reeds. It imitates the note of the Starling, Wagtail, Swallow, and other birds, but is vastly inferior to the Marsh Warbler both as a musician and a mimic. I have heard it at its best during a calm summer evening on the Norfolk Broads, where it sings far into the night and early in the morning, excepting during windy weather, which seems to be greatly disliked by all feathered inhabitants of reed beds. The following extracts from one of my old diaries kept during a stay on Hickling Broad illustrate rather graphically the influence of wind upon the vocal activities of birds:

May 27.--“Windy, dark night; not a bird of any kind to be heard.” May 28.--“Fine calm night. Reed, Sedge, and Grasshopper Warblers, Snipe, Water Rail, Coot, Moorhen, Peewit, and other birds all singing and calling until one o’clock in the morning.”

The song of the Reed Warbler has been represented as _tiri, tier zach zerr, scherk heid tret_ by one authority, and as _tiri yach yerr sherk heid tret_ by another. Each note is repeated by the singer a number of times. Its call note is a harsh _turr_ or _choh, choh_.

=THE ROCK PIPIT.=

The Rock Pipit, although subject to some seasonal movement, is a resident in the British Islands, and I have never yet heard its song or seen its nest away from the sound of the restless sea. In fact, it is the only song bird the ocean can boast, for although such species as Skylarks, Twites, Starlings, and Linnets frequently breed close by the sea, their haunts are by no means confined to its shores as is the case with the bird under notice.