Part 3

Rooks are said to be more abundant in England than in any other part of the world, although they are found in most temperate regions of Europe and Asia; they do not, like many of the Corvine, or Crow family, increase toward the north, but on the contrary, decrease in that direction: in the Scottish islands they are not to be met with. They are strictly gregarious birds, immense numbers of them building and rearing their young together. Almost every English Village, or Hall, or old Manor House, has, or at one time had, its "Rookery," where, on the tops of the tall elms or other lofty trees, the sable birds delight to build their large loose nests of sticks, cemented together with clay, and lined with grass and root fibres. There do they hold their noisy councils, morning and evening, but especially at the latter time, before retiring to rest. One would think they had all the affairs of the nation to settle, so long and loud is the debate, or at least that there must be an immense deal of quarrelling about the right to this or that resting-place; and more fighting, too, than there ought to be, among a decent feathered community.

There is something pleasing about the _caw_ of the Rook, whether heard in the dreamy quietude of nature, or, as it often is, amid the bustle of the busy town; it is a sociable bird, friendly to man and his belongings. It is an English bird--a _home_ bird, and reminds us of domestic scenes and pleasures. We have had rookeries in the very hearts of cities; there was one in the Temple Gardens, in London, close by the stream of life which ever flows and reflows up and down the Strand and Fleet Street. Not many years since it was stated in the papers that, "in the small church-yard of St. Peters, Westcheap, situated in Wood Street, Cheapside, stands a solitary tree, in the lofty branches of which, two pairs of Rooks have built themselves nests, and are now busily engaged in rearing two broods, which have been recently hatched." But volumes might be written, as they have been, about Rooks and rookeries; Leigh Hunt, and Charles Lamb, and Washington Irving, and nearly all the English poets, might be called in to give their tribute of praise to this old familiar friend and companion of our life-journey.

The Rooks are frugal nest-builders; they make the same structure do year after year. Early in March they begin to repair their old habitations, which, during the winter, we may see far up amid the naked branches, like so many bundles of dry sticks; the young pairs, we suppose, build new ones, unless they should find a nest left vacant by the removal, by death or otherwise, of parents or other relatives, for all the community must be closely allied.

"Where, in venerable rows, Widely waving oaks enclose The moat of yonder antique hall, Swarm the Rooks with clamorous call; And, to the toils of nature true, Wreathe their capacious nests anew,"

says the poet Warton, describing the 1st. of April; and generally by the end of May, or beginning of June, the young Rooks are fledged. The eggs from which they have emerged do not differ greatly from those of the other members of the _Corvus_ family just described. They are usually four or five in number, of a pale greenish ground colour, blotched and spotted with light brown and yellowish green; they, however, vary greatly, some being nearly white, others grey, and others olive brown, with markings more or less deep and distinct.

JACKDAW.

DAW. KAE.

FIGURE 8.

_Corvus monedula_ is the scientific name of this species, the latter, or specific title, being derived, as Mr. Morris supposes, from _moneo_, to warn; the Daw, like most of the Crow tribe, having been formerly considered a creature of evil augury.

A pert bold fellow is the Jackdaw, restless, inquisitive, and loquacious; ever poking and prying into every hole and corner, and purloining whatever he can lay his claw or his bill on. He seems to delight in mischief, and to consider that to pick and steal is the great end and object of his existence. This is a sad character to give a bird, but we must tell the truth at all hazards, and confess that, notwithstanding the respectability of his appearance, with his suit of silky black, and grey poll, like the wig of a counsellor, he is a sad scamp.

Oh, what a long catalogue of crimes and offences connected with this black-coated offender, might we present, had we space and inclination to do so; but we have not, and indeed it is not necessary, for all the world knows the character of the subject of these remarks, as well as Thomas Hood, who says--

"The Daw's not reckoned a religious bird, Because it keeps a cawing from a steeple."

And this brings us to one of the favourite building places of Kae, as the Scotch people call it; ruined towers, and ivy-grown steeples, holes in cliffs and hollow trees, are generally chosen for the heap of sticks loosely piled together, and having a depression in the centre, where, on a layer of wool, hair, grass, or other soft substance, the eggs are deposited; in number from four to six, of a pale bluish white, spotted with greyish brown; some of the spots being large and distinct, and much deeper than the others. The young birds are generally hatched by the end of May, or early in June, by the end of the second week in which month they are usually fit to be taken from the nest; they are easily reared by hand, and become very tame, learning to talk, and play all sorts of curious tricks.

The caw of the Daw is more high and shrill than that of most Crows; it is found in nearly all parts of Great Britain, and is common in Holland, Germany, France, Italy, and most countries of Europe. One remarkable circumstance connected with its nidification is the immense quantity of material which it collects; sometimes it builds in chimneys, and completely stops them up with the huge pile of sticks, which it there deposits. It is said that the fire which, some years since partly consumed the cathedral of York, was much fed and assisted by the Jackdaws' nests on the turrets. In Cambridge, where the Daws are numerous, building in the colleges and church towers, no less than eighteen dozen of deal laths, about nine inches long and one broad, which had been purloined from the botanic gardens, where they were put into the ground as labels for the plants, were found in the shaft of one chimney in which the birds had built. Many anecdotes are related of the ingenuity they manifest on getting their building materials into the desired position; often through narrow loopholes, and up winding staircases, they manage to convey long sticks and pieces of wood in a manner truly surprising; and the way in which they pile up the light fabric upon joists and cross-beams, and window-sills, and make it all firm and stable, is no less so. Sometimes the Daws choose less lofty situations for their nests; generally, as Bishop Mant tells us, they make

"In spire or looped and windowed tower Of hallowed fane their nestling bower. In caverned cliff beside the sea, Or hollow of the woodland tree;--"

But occasionally they descend, when nature

"Prompts them in the waste to roam And seek a subterranean home, The burrowing rabbit's haunt, and there Of sticks and matted wool prepare Their dwelling, and produce their race, In that unlikely dwelling-place."

MAGPIE.

PIET. PIANET. MAG. MADGE.

FIGURE 9.

_Pica caudata_, _Pica melanoleuca_, and _Corvus pica_ are the several names given by naturalists to this bird; the first word is Latin, and means simply a pie; in the same language _caudus_ signifies a tail, and a splendid tail our handsome Magpie possesses, long and broad, and like the beautiful pinions, all shot with green and purple reflections. _Melanoleuca_ is compounded of two Greek words, meaning black and white, and no one can deny that this is very appropriate, although it is not so commonly used as the former name. The third title may be translated the Crow-Pie; indicating the particular genus and species of Mag the merry. No member of the Crow family puts on so resplendent a dress as this; beautifully do the snowy shoulders (scapulars naturalists would say) and belly, contrast with the rich velvety black of the back, breast, head, and neck. Rich is the sheen of emerald and amethyst which plays about the tail and wings, as the latter are spread out in the sunshine, and the former flirts up and down with a quick vibrating motion. And such a droll fellow, too, is Mag, every now and then you would think he were dancing, or imitating some fine lady or courtly beau; he steps or hops along in such an odd, fantastic manner. Yes, a droll fellow, but a sad thief; it is not safe to leave a gold chain, or a ring, or a silver spoon in his way; up into the old church steeple it is sure to go, if it is not buried in some out-of-the-way corner, all among the moss, and dead leaves, and decayed wood, which have accumulated there for centuries. We all remember the old story of the Maid and the Magpie; and how nearly the poor girl suffered death for the loss of the silver spoons stolen by the bird, who, however, was not so guilty after all, for he did not know that the loss of the glittering objects which attracted his attention, would be attended with such serious consequences. He had no sense of right and wrong to guide him as my readers have, and had never been taught the great commandments--"Thou shalt not covet!" and "Thou shalt not steal!"

The chattering Magpie is found chiefly in the cultivated and wooded parts of Britain and Ireland; it is an _omnivorous_ feeder, that is, it eats almost anything--_omnes_ in Latin, you know, means all. It is a shy watchful bird, and very difficult to catch; it has a fine broad tail, but we never heard that any one was able to put salt upon it. Such a quick eye the fellow has, and a way of twisting himself about, so as to be looking every way at once; you would catch a weasel asleep sooner than you would Maggie. The nest is made with a hole in the side, from whence a sharp look-out can be kept. It is placed in some thick bush, or tall prickly hedge, generally at a considerable distance from the ground; it is of a longish oval shape, and made of sticks and thorns, cemented together with mud; on the lining of roots and grass lie the bluish white eggs, spotted over with grey and greenish brown; there may be six, seven, or even eight of them, although very rarely so many as the latter number. The breeding-time is quite early in the spring, and the same nest is resorted to by one pair of birds year after year.

It is thus that Bishop Mant describes the mode and place of building of what he calls the "Artful Pie."

"On turf-reared platform intermixt, With clay and cross-laid sticks betwixt, 'Mid hawthorn, fir, or elm tree slung, Is piled for the expected young, A soft and neatly-woven home, Above of tangled thorns a dome, Forms a sharp fence the nest about, To keep all rash intruders out. So like a robber in his hold, Or some marauding baron bold, On coasted cliff in olden time, They sit unblenched in state sublime, And fortress intricately planned; As if they felt that they whose hand Is aimed at others, rightly deem The hand of others aimed at them. So there they dwell, man's dwellings nigh, But not in man's society;-- Arabian-like: and little share His love, nor for his hatred care; Prompt of his rural stores a part To seize, and joyful of their art His efforts at revenge elude."

JAY.

JAY PIE. JAY PIET.

FIGURE 10.

In scientific language _Corvus glandarius_, or _Garrulus glandarius_; the specific name is from the Latin, and signifies of or belonging to acorns; the second generic name is also Latin, and means chattering or talkative, a leading characteristic of this bird, whose harsh cry is frequently heard amid the stillness of the solitary woods.

"Proud of cerulean stains From heaven's unsullied arch purloined, The Jay screams hoarse,"

says Gisborne, in his "Walks in a Forest," and all persons who are accustomed to woodland scenery, must have been startled, ever and anon, by the grating syllables _wrak, wrak_, shortly and sharply repeated by this bird, and have noticed the dull gleam of its blue wings, as it passed in a heavy scurrying manner from tree to tree, or shuffled away down the glade, as though it had committed some crime, and was fearful of being taken.

The Blue-winged Jay is a name commonly given to this certainly handsome bird, whose plumage of delicate brown, variegated with white and black, and set off with "cerulean stains," as Gisborne says, give it a striking and pleasing appearance, notwithstanding its general air of dullness and apprehension. It is true, we seldom have an opportunity of observing it closely, except in a state of confinement, where it is not likely to be very lively, for it is a bird of the wild woods, and likes not to be deprived of its free range, and brought into close companionship with man. Sometimes, however, if taken young and properly trained, it becomes a very amusing domestic pet, having a decided talent for mimicry, and being gentle and teachable.

The nest of the Jay is commonly built in a high coppice wood, or hedge, generally many feet from the ground, although it is seldom seen near the tops of tall trees, like those of the Magpie and Crow. Montagu says, "He who feels inclined to study the nidification of this bird, must search the lower branches of the oak, or inspect the woodbine mantling round the hazel."

Morris describes the nest as "of an open shape, formed of twigs and sticks, and well lined with small roots, grasses, and horse-hair. Some are much more cleverly constructed than others." And certainly from the representation which he gives of one, we should take the Jay to be a much neater builder than any of its _congeners_, as birds of the same family or genus would be called.

The eggs are five or six in number, of a greenish or yellowish white, freckled all over with two shades of light brown.

Several variations from this common pattern have been found and described, some being lighter and some darker, and some having a greater degree of polish on them than others.

The Jay is an omnivorous feeder; but is said to have a great partiality for acorns; and also for the eggs and young of game-birds, hence he is shot without mercy by those interested in their preservation.

Let us see what Bishop Mant says of him.

"He who makes his native wood Resound his screaming, harsh and rude, Continuously the season through; Though scarce his painted wing you'll view With sable barred, and white and grey, And varied crest, the lonely Jay!"

GREEN WOODPECKER.

LARGE GREEN WOODPECKER. NICK-A-PECKER. ECLE. HIGH-HOE. HEW-HOLE. AWL, OR RAIN-BIRD, OR FOWL. POPINJAY. WHITTLE. YAFFLE. YAFFER. YAPPINGALL. WOODSPITE. WOODWALL, OR WELE.

FIGURE 11.

We have in England six species of Woodpeckers, namely, the Black, the Green, the Greater Spotted, the Lesser Spotted, the Hairy, and the Three-toed, but only the one above-named is at all common. It is a handsome bird, with green and brown plumage, prettily marked and barred with white; the bill is large and black, which colour extends over the sides of the head and part of the throat; there is a light-coloured rim round the eye, and a crest like a crimson cap, also a few feathers of the same rich colour set in the black patches of the throat. A truly handsome bird, rather awkward in appearance, on account of the shortness of the tail, and the large size of the feet, head, and bill. A shy, unsocial bird, too; not fond of exhibiting its beauties; for ever tap-tapping the hollow beech, or other tree, in the depth of the solitary woods; often heard but seldom seen, and when it is, in all sorts of inelegant positions, creeping up or down the rugged bole, clinging to the broken bough, crouching close, and peeping and peering into every hole and crevice, in search of its favourite food--insects and their eggs, spiders, and grubs and caterpillars; and boring into the decayed bark with its hard wedge-shaped bill. The old poet Chaucer describes a very busy, inquisitive person as being

"As prate and prying as a Woodpecker, And ever inquiring upon everything."

And Gisborne gives us a true picture of this restless and curious bird:--

"With shrill and oft-repeated cry, Her angular course, alternate rise and fall, The Woodpecker prolongs; then to the trunk Close clinging, with unwearied beak assails The hollow bark; through every call the strokes Roll the dire echoes, that from wintry sleep Awake her insect prey; the alarmed tribes Start from each chink that bores the mouldering stem; Their scattered flight with lengthened tongue the foe Pursues; joy glistens in her verdant plumes, And brighter scarlet sparkles in her crest."

We have here perhaps a little bit of what is called poetic licence; true, it has been said that the Woodpecker taps on the tree to alarm the insects lurking within, and make them come out to see what is the matter, but it is most likely done to ascertain which are the parts most unsound and pervious to the bill. In the above lines is an allusion to the shrill cry of the bird; this, heard amid the stillness of the wood, is perfectly startling; like a peal of unearthly laughter, it bursts forth and rings around; it has been compared to the syllables _glu_, _glu_, _glu_, _gluck!_ finishing off with a sharp _gk_, as though a laugh had tumbled down and broken its neck, turning into something like a cry before it expired. Only just as you are thinking it is really dead and done for, out it bursts again louder than ever, and you listen aghast to

"The ringing of the Whitwall's shrilly laughter, Which echo follows after,"

but is never able to overtake. And we are here reminded of the long array of names with which this noisy fellow is honoured; a different one for almost every locality, and having reference mostly to the cry of the bird, or its singular habits. The scientific name is _Picus viridis_; the first signifying a Woodpecker, and the last green.

"The Woodpecker," says Mudie, "is especially a bird of the ancient forests. You do not find it in the hedge or the coppice, where so many of the little birds, especially the summer migrants, build their nests, and spend their mid-days, when the reflections of the sun come bright on all sides of the foliage, in picking the soft caterpillars from the leaves, or capturing the insects that resort thither for the purpose of depositing fresh myriads; and when they have thus secured the shelter and beauty of their habitation, farewell the evening, and again hail the morning with their joyous songs. The aged tree is all to the Woodpecker, and he is much to the aged tree." Yes, for he eats the insects which are revelling in its decay, and of the fine dust thereof he makes his nest, if nest it can be called, which is merely a hole in the trunk, high up, perhaps twenty or thirty feet, lined with the small particles of rotten wood.

All the Woodpeckers lay white or nearly white eggs, and all, with whose habits we are acquainted, are early builders; the common green species, found in most of the southern parts of Britain, commences making a new, or repairing its old nest as early as February; the eggs are from four to eight in number. The young are hatched in June.

WRYNECK.

CUCKOO'S MATE, MAID, OR MESSENGER. RINDING, SNAKE, TURKEY, BARLEY, OR TONGUE BIRD. EMMET-HUNTER. LONG-TONGUE.

FIGURE 12.

This bird, which appears to be a kind of connecting link between the Woodpeckers and Cuckoos, having some of the characteristics of both, is only a summer visitant of this country, generally arriving in April. Its scientific name is _Yunx torquilla_; the first is undoubtedly Greek, but its meaning is not very obvious; the second comes from _torqueo_--to turn or twist, and refers to a singular habit which the bird has of twisting its neck with a kind of slow undulating motion, like that of a snake; hence also the common English name Wryneck, and one or two others given above. The Welsh consider this the forerunner of the Cuckoo, and call it _gwas y gog_, or the Cuckoo's attendant. In the northern counties of England the common people call it Cuckoo's Maiden; it generally comes to us a few days in advance of that bird, as though it were deputed to prepare a place for it.

Although it can boast of no bright and gaudy colours, the Wryneck is a most elegant bird, both in shape and plumage.

"The embroidery of that vesture grey No pen nor pencil can pourtray,"

says Bishop Mant. But it is seldom that one can get a good sight of its beautifully marked and mottled dress, for it is, like the Woodpecker, a shy and retiring bird; like that, too, it lays its eggs in a hole of a tree, lined with the decayed wood; they are six or seven in number generally, sometimes nine, and even ten, have been found in one hole; the colour is a pure white, or slightly tinged and spotted with yellowish brown. The time of incubation is fourteen days, and the female is so much attached to the young birds, that she will often suffer herself to be taken rather than desert them. These birds resort to the same spot year after year; it is at various heights from the ground, and sometimes the deserted nest of a Woodpecker or other bird is used.

NUTHATCH.

NUT-JOBBER. WOODCRACKER.

FIGURE 13.

The _Sittine_ Birds, or Nuthatches, are little short-bodied creatures, with large heads, and very small tails; the bill is tolerably long, straight, and slender, pentagonal, or five-sided at the base, or part where it is inserted into the head. They are pretty lively birds, and seem to occupy a position between the _Certhias_, or Tree Creepers, and the _Parine_ Birds or Tits. We have but one species in this country, known as the _Sitta EuropÊa_, or European Nuthatch; the generic name being derived, as Morris thinks, from some word in a primitive, or early language, (from _primus_--first,) from which also comes the term hatchet, and having reference to the habit of hacking and hewing at the nuts, on which this bird chiefly feeds.

The Nuthatch is not found generally throughout Britain, only in certain localities, and very rarely in the northern parts. It has long curved claws, by means of which it ascends the trunks of the trees, and clings about the branches much like the Creepers and Woodpeckers, frequently descending head downwards, which few other birds are able to do. It bores into the nuts with its strong-pointed bill, and feeds upon the kernels; it also with the same instrument extracts the insects from the holes and crevices, and thus varies its diet. Its motions are abrupt and jerking, so that it always appears in a desperate hurry, and it keeps up a constant _quit, quit_, as though giving warning to its landlady of an intention to leave its lodgings forthwith. Bewick says that it will pick bones, and that it lays up a store of food for the winter in various little granaries.

For a nesting-place it makes choice of some hole in a tree, which it lines with dried leaves, moss, scales of fir-cones, bits of bark, and it may be, a little hair. If the entrance is too large it is partly closed up with clay, so as to leave but just room for the bird to enter. The eggs are from five to seven or eight, sometimes nine in number; they are greyish white, with spots or blotches of reddish brown.