Part 15

The belted kingfisher is large and rather chunky. He is dark blue above and white below, with a bluish band across the breast. He has a fine crest and a big head, and he sits up straight as a hawk.

The tail of the kingfisher is short, and square at the end. His plumage is thick and oily, so that it does not hold wet. This is very important to him in the way he gets his food, for he is an expert fisherman. He lives alone, or with his mate, near the water,--a lake, or pond, or small stream.

This bird's way of getting fish is to dive for them. You may have seen him splash into the water out of sight, and in a moment come up with a small fish in his beak. Then he goes back to his perch and beats the fish to death, before he swallows it. He swallows it whole and head first, because the fins might stick in his throat if he took it tail first. After a while he throws up a little ball of the bones, scales, and skin of the fish he has eaten. It is said that the kingfisher can take a very large fish. One was shot who had swallowed a fish so long that the tail stuck out of his mouth, and could not get down.

The nest of the kingfisher is in the bank of a river or lake. The birds first cut a passage or hallway. Sometimes this is only four feet long, and straight. But when stones or roots are in the way, it will be much longer and have many turns. At the end of this passage is the kingfisher nursery. This is a round room nearly a foot across, with a roof rounded up over it. It is a little higher than the passageway so that water will not run into it.

Sometimes it takes the birds two or three weeks to make one of these nests, as we might expect when we think they have only beaks and feet to work with. Usually it does not take so long. If the pair are not disturbed, they will use the same nest year after year. Sometimes the bed for the nestlings is of dry grass. One was found in which the bed was entirely of the bones and scales of fish.

Mr. Baily has told us about a family of kingfisher little folk whom he studied and photographed. He dug down to the nest from above, and was careful not to hurt them and to put them back safely. First Mr. Baily took a picture of them when two days old. They were queer-looking objects, with eyes not open, and not a feather to their backs. They were not so young but that they had one notion in their little round heads. That was to cuddle up close together. They were not used to much room in their dark cradle.

When Mr. Baily laid them out on the ground, they at once crawled up together and made themselves into a sort of ball. They put their bare wings and their bills over one another, and held on so that one could not be moved without the others. After they had sat for their picture they were carefully put back, and the nest was covered up again.

When the nestlings were nine days old, the nest was opened again, and another picture taken. The little ones had grown a good deal in these few days. Their eyes were open, and they were fast getting their feather coats on. But they were just as fond of being close together as before.

After this the birds were left in their home till they were twenty-three days old, and it seemed about time for them to come out. When the nest was opened this time, it was found that the family had moved. The old room was filled up with earth, and a new one made farther up. No doubt the old birds thought the man too curious about their babies. The young birds were ready to fly, and two of them did take to their wings when they came to daylight.

* * * * *

There is a very old fable about the kingfisher, who was called the halcyon. It is told in the first book that was ever written about birds (so far as I know). The author was Aristotle, a Greek who lived three hundred years before Christ. The story is, that the bird builds a nest that floats on the sea, and for seven days before and seven days after the shortest winter day, the sea stays calm, so that the nest may not be hurt. During the first seven days she builds her nest, and in the second seven she hatches out the young. These fourteen days were called halcyon days. You may find more about this curious story in the encyclopædias.

FOOTNOTE:

[24] See Appendix, 23.

XXXI

THE CUCKOO FAMILY

(_Cuculidæ_)[25]

MOST of the cuckoo family live in a hotter climate than ours, but we have a few of them. They are beautiful birds, with some peculiar ways.

Cuckoos are rather slim in form, with very long tails, and bills a little curved. Their toes are divided like woodpeckers' toes, two turned forward and two back. In the Eastern States we have but two, the yellow-billed and the black-billed. Best known in the East is the YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO, and in California the Western Yellow-billed, or California, Cuckoo.

This bird has several names. In some places he is called the rain crow, and in other places the wood pigeon; but of course he is neither a crow nor a pigeon. He is a graceful bird, with plumage like satin. He is a soft brown above and white below, but he is so shy that he is not so often seen as heard. His call or song is a loud, yet not harsh "kuk-kuk-kuk" many times repeated. Sometimes it begins slow and grows faster till the notes run into each other, and then grows slow again, ending in a sort of "cow-cow-cow;" but it does not always do so.

The cuckoo does not manage her nursery affairs as other birds do. Most birds lay an egg a day, or every other day, so that they hatch about the same time; but this bird doesn't mind if several days come between. Thus it happens that one or more little cuckoos hatch out before the rest are ready, and it is common to find little ones of several ages in the same nest. There may be one nearly grown, another just beginning to get feathers, and a third one not yet out of the egg.

There is another droll thing that may be found in a cuckoo's nest. When the feathers begin to grow out on young birds, they come wrapped in little sheaths. In most cases these sheaths burst open and the feathers show, when they are a little way out. But in this family it is different. The sheath does not open, says Mr. Dugmore, till the feathers have grown their full length. Till that happens, the youngster looks as if he were stuck all over with white pins on his black body.

You have heard, or read, that the cuckoo lays eggs in other birds' nests, and leaves her young to be brought up by others. Do not forget that the bird who does that is the European cuckoo--not ours. Our cuckoos build nests, though very poor ones, sometimes hardly more than a platform of sticks.

This bird is useful to us, for he eats some of our most troublesome insects,--such as tent caterpillars, which few birds like to eat because they are so hairy, and other insects with spines that are poisonous, and so generally avoided.

The cuckoo is graceful in flight. He goes swiftly, without noise, and seems to glide through the thickest foliage with ease.

I once found a young bird tumbling about on the ground. He was trying to fly, but was not able to go much more than a foot at a time. He was giving strange calls, which were answered from the woods beside the road by a low tapping sound. I thought of course the little one was a woodpecker and his mother was doing the knocking. It was so dark I could not see him well. After some trouble I caught him and was going to take a good look at him to see who he was before I let him go. As I grasped him he gave a shriek, and out from the thick trees popped a cuckoo. She alighted on a low branch outside and gave such a cry of distress that I knew at once it was her baby I held in my hand.

I suppose the poor mother thought I wanted to carry the youngster off. I couldn't bear to have a bird think that for a minute; so I opened my hands and away he went, half flying, half scrambling up the road, while the mother slipped back into the woods. In a moment she began again her hollow-sounding calls, which I had thought were woodpecker tappings.

FOOTNOTE:

[25] See Appendix, 24.

XXXII

THE OWL FAMILY

(_Bubonidæ_)[26]

OWLS differ from all other birds in having eyes that look forward like ours. They have also a broad face, which is made to look even wider by the feathers which stand out around the eyes.

Owls cannot turn their eyes in the sockets, so they have to turn the whole head to see to one side. Many of them have tufts of feathers like horns, which they can stand up or lay down as they choose. These are called horned owls. An owl's legs are covered with feathers, sometimes down to the toes. The whole plumage of this bird is soft and fluffy, so that he can fly without making any noise. This is important to him, for he lives mostly on mice, and he never could catch one if he made much noise getting about.

The owl's mate looks like him, and--what is unusual among birds--she is larger than he. Because they come out in the evening, when we cannot see them well, we know very little of their ways. They are more often heard than seen. Their voices are generally mournful, but that is no reason why they should be feared.

All birds have control over some of their feathers, that is, they can make them stand up or lie down as they choose. But owls have more than any other bird. An owl can alter his shape or size so that he will look like another bird.

Mr. Bolles says that a large owl can change from a mass of bristling feathers a yard wide, to a slim, sleek brown post only a few inches wide. When he does this, one cannot see him, though he may be in plain sight. His colors blend with a tree trunk, or stump, and he can stand without stirring for an hour, and likes to do it.

Mr. Bolles had owls in the house, and watched them closely. He has told us some curious things about their ways. He says that when one steps daintily across the floor, his feathers tuck themselves up as a lady holds up her gown.

This moving of the feathers sometimes looks very droll. When eating, the feathers around the mouth, which might get soiled, draw back out of the way. And when an owl wants to hide his food, he stands over it, and the feathers droop down like a curtain to screen it from view. When Mrs. Bolles wanted to sketch an owl, he kept changing his shape all the time, though he did not seem to move at all.

Another man who had a pet owl says that the bird would stand before him and throw back his breast feathers each side, just as a man throws open his coat.

The owlets come out of the egg dressed in soft, fluffy down. In some of the family it is gray, in others it is snowy white. They are carefully fed and reared by their loving parents.

A funny story is told by a man who wanted to see what was in an owl's nest. He lifted the mother bird out, and to his surprise the whole family came out with her. She held on to one little one, and each one held on to the next, and so he had the whole owl family in a cluster, like a bunch of grapes.

The SCREECH OWL is the best known of this family. He is found, under slightly different forms, all over our country. In Florida he is smaller and darker than in the Middle States. In California he is larger and grayer, and in the Rocky Mountains somewhat lighter. But he acts in about the same way, wherever he lives.

In the East the screech owl is found in two colors. Some have reddish feathers, others have gray. The wise men have not yet found any reason for this difference.

The screech owl is badly named, for his song is not a screech. It is a sort of trembling sound, and in some places he is called the "shivering owl," which is a much better name for him than screech owl. If one does not know who makes it, it is rather a weird song in the dark; but if one knows the pretty gray bird, it is sweet and pleasing.

The bird comes out before it is quite pitch dark. He may often be seen against the sky, standing on a branch, bowing and swaying back and forth, while he utters strange notes of many kinds. He has plenty to say for himself. But you must keep as still as a mouse if you want to see him. If he can see to catch a mouse in the dark, you may be sure he can see you.

Generally the screech owl makes a nest in a hollow tree or a deserted woodpecker nest, and comes out only at night. What he likes best to eat is mice, and mice too come out at night. The way he eats is curious, as I told you in "The First Book of Birds."

A few years ago a screech owl went through a broken window into the attic of a house in New Jersey, and lived there all winter. The family were bird-lovers, so they let her stay. She liked it so well that the next spring she made her nest there and hatched out three little owls. The little ones were not at all afraid of people, and a son of the family made many photographs of them.

After the owlets were grown, the whole family disappeared, and lived out of doors the rest of the summer. But when cold weather came, the old birds came back and stayed all winter again. They have made their home in that attic, and reared a brood every spring since. They are always very social among themselves. They talk and sing, and make many sorts of noises.

One of the queerest of the owl family is the little BURROWING OWL of the West. The Florida Burrowing Owl, found in Florida, differs only a little from the Western bird. The burrowing owl is a comical-looking fellow, only about as large as a robin. He has very long legs for an owl, and is dressed in grayish brown.

This bird is said to have very polite manners. In some places he is called the "how-do-you-do owl." He is always bowing, and turning from side to side, and seems to be greeting you as you come near him.

The burrowing owl likes a comfortable home underground, out of the way of enemies. In the West, where he lives, prairie dogs are plentiful, and they are always digging out passages and rooms, more than they can use. So the owl has no trouble in finding empty quarters to live in.

But in California, and places where are none of the digging dogs, the little owl rooms with some of the ground squirrels that burrow there. He must have an underground home in that land where trees are scarce, and he has no fancy for digging. Even if he wanted to dig, his feet are not fitted for it like the feet of the little beasts.

The burrowing owl has no trouble in taking a house where he finds one to suit him, for he's a savage little fellow. He can kill squirrels and prairie dogs much bigger than himself, and even rattlesnakes, which take lodgings in the prairie dog houses also. He feeds upon all these creatures. He eats also crickets, scorpions, and many troublesome insects. This makes him valuable to farmers, for nearly all these creatures destroy his crops.

Remember, too, that birds have great appetites; as I have told you, they eat more than their own weight every day. In that way they dispose of enormous numbers of pests. It almost seems as if a bird were a sort of eating machine, made on purpose to work for us. We should never forget this.

This bird, like most others, makes many different sounds. His song is a soft "coo-oo," something like that of a mourning dove. When a stranger comes to his home and he is there, he gives a rattle which sounds like a rattlesnake. This scares people, and perhaps animals, away, for no one wants to meet a rattlesnake in a dark hole. I wonder if the bird learned this trick living in the same house with the snake.

The Department of Agriculture has proved owls to be among the most useful of birds. Their food is almost entirely of hurtful creatures, and they come out at night when other birds are asleep and are ready to hunt the pests which do the same.

FOOTNOTE:

[26] See Appendix, 25.

XXXIII

THE BARN OWL FAMILY

(_Strigidæ_)[27]

THIS is a small family of which we have but one member in America, the AMERICAN BARN OWL. He is found all over the country, as far north as southern New England, but he is one of the shyest of birds. He comes out only at night, and hides so well in the day that he is not often seen, even where he is common. So very little is known of his ways.

When he does happen to come out, and any one sees him, a great deal is said about him. For he is a very odd-looking fellow indeed. He is all in gray and white, clouded and speckled and barred, and his face is the strangest of bird faces. It is three-cornered, and looks more like a monkey's than a bird's. If he shows this face in the daylight, he is generally caught or shot, and the newspapers make a great fuss about him. Some one says he looks like a toothless little old woman, with a hooked nose.

Happily for the barn owl, he does not often come out. He loves quiet more than anything. He seeks a hidden, safe place, not only for a nest, but to spend his days in. He is almost the only bird who may be said to live in a home.

When house hunting, this bird will take a snug cavity in a tree, or an empty building. He does not despise an old mining shaft, or a burrow in the ground. He delights in a church steeple or a barn. Almost any place that is quiet and out of sight of the world will suit him.

All day the barn owl stays at home. But in the evening he comes out for his dinner, and then there is havoc among the small animals. Rats, ground squirrels, mice, bats, small snakes, grasshoppers, and almost anything else that is eatable are welcome to him. He should be protected because he is so useful.

This bird is an amiable fellow too. He has been known to live pleasantly in a church tower with pigeons, whom he could easily kill to eat if he wished. He is a hearty eater himself, besides feeding a family of five or six little fuzzy white owlets great quantities of food.

One of these owls has lived for years in a tower of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. In the Zoölogical Collection of that city, there was, not long ago, another of the family alive. Wishing to have more of them in the Zoo, some one watched the nest of the tower bird. When her little family of seven was about ready to fly, he took them away, and gave them to their caged relative. She promptly adopted the whole party, and reared them with the greatest care. No doubt she was glad to have something to do. Life in a cage must be very tiresome for wild birds and beasts.

Mr. Reed of Philadelphia has told us how a pet barn owl threw up the castings. These, you know, are the bones and skin of mice and other creatures which are thrown up awhile after eating. He would bow his head and shake it very hard. Then raise it and jerk out the little ball.

This bird was very tame. The place where he liked best to sit was on the arm or shoulder of his master. If the man wanted to do anything except play with him, he had to get a stuffed bird to amuse the living one. It was like a doll for a baby girl. When the owl was not perfectly comfortable, he kept up a constant cry, so his master had to keep him well entertained and fed.

The note of the barn owl is a wild screech. One is sometimes heard making this sound, but he is never heard flying, for, like other owls, he is dressed in soft feathers that make no rustle.

FOOTNOTE:

[27] See Appendix, 26.

XXXIV

THE HAWK AND EAGLE FAMILY

(_Falconidæ_)[28]

THIS is a family of birds of prey. That is, birds who live entirely on living animals, which they hunt and catch for themselves. Owls are also birds of prey, but they do their hunting by night, while this family work by day.

Like all birds, hawks are well fitted for what they have to do. They have long wings, so that they can fly swiftly and long at a time, to follow up the prey. They have sharp, curved claws, made for grasping and holding things. Their hooked beak is the best kind for cutting and tearing meat.

Most of these birds work for us the whole time, as do the owls. For they eat the same destructive animals, and they eat an enormous number. Yet we have a foolish prejudice against them, because two or three of them sometimes take poultry and game birds. Even when these birds do take our poultry and game birds, some good is done. For they naturally catch the weak ones who are not able to get out of their way. And it is better for the whole race of these birds that the weak ones should not live. It leaves the rest stronger, and better able to make their way in the world.

This family is found all over the world. It includes birds of all sizes, from one as small as a sparrow to one who spreads his wings ten feet. In our country we have neither the smallest nor the largest. Of those you are likely to see, the least is the American Sparrow Hawk, who is not much larger than a robin, and the greatest is the Bald Eagle, who is sometimes a yard from the tip of his beak to the end of his tail.

Hawks have wonderful eyes like a telescope and microscope in one, as I have told you in "The First Book of Birds." In eating without knife and fork, they often swallow food whole and throw up castings like the owls.

In catching their prey these birds use their feet instead of their beaks. Even those who hunt grasshoppers and crickets seize them in their claws. Their feet are quite as useful as hands. In them they carry material for the nest as well as food for the little ones. The claws are powerful weapons of war, too. A hawk who is ready to fight throws himself on his back and presents his claws to the enemy. Few people would like to be grappled by those terrible claws.

Hawks and eagles have wonderful wing power. Some of them can stay far up in the air an hour at a time. They go up in great circles with wings held stiffly out and not beating, till out of sight. Men have not yet been able to see quite how it is done. It is probably by using the wings as sailors use their sails, and making the wind carry them.

The one of this family I shall tell you about is the FISH HAWK, or AMERICAN OSPREY, because he is found all over the United States. He is one of those which you will be most likely to see, and want to know about.

The osprey is a large bird, about two feet long. He is dressed in chocolate brown, with white breast and white tips to many of his feathers. His head feathers are long, and lie back on his neck, giving a peculiar shape to the head, by which you may know him at once. These feathers too are white, so that as he flies over he looks as if he were bald. He has feet marvelously fitted to hold slippery fish. The talons are sharp, and the toes long, and rough on the under side, so that nothing can get away from them.

The fish hawk is a social bird and fond of his home. Though he migrates, he comes back to the old place, year after year. He likes the top of a stout tree to build in. It needs to be stout, for he makes a very big nest, and adds to it every season. It generally kills the tree, if it is not dead when he begins. If there are no trees to be had, or if there are too many birds for the trees at hand, some of them will nest on the ground, for they like to keep near their friends. The nest is made of sticks and all the rubbish the birds can collect. Such things are found as an old broom, a boy's sail-boat, a rag doll, and others as absurd.

The young fish hawk is a pretty little fellow in white down. He is three or four weeks in the egg, and a long time in the nest, and is helpless a good deal longer. He is fed on fish like his parents. For this bird deserves his name; he is a fisherman, and always takes his food from the water. Fortunately he usually selects the poorer kinds of fish, which men do not care to eat, and so he is not called an enemy by the fishermen.