[Contents]CHAPTER XXXIIIGRANIVOROUS BIRDS“It might at first seem that I ought to be as lenient toward those who hunt granivorous birds as I have just shown myself severe toward the destroyers of insectivorous birds; for can it be denied that birds given to a vegetable diet are harmful to our crops, that they plunder our grain-fields and devour great quantities of seeds, buds, fruit, and young garden plants? Some of them know how to extract the wheat grains from the ear, and others boldly come to get their share of the oats thrown to the poultry in our barnyards. Others, again, prefer the juicy flesh of fruit and know before we do when cherries are ripe or pears are mellow, so that when we come to gather in the harvest all that we find is merely what they have left. There are even some that have a queer-shaped beak for splitting fruit open and dividing it into quarters so as to get at the pips, which are to them the very choicest of titbits. Look at this one’s beak and tell me if you have ever seen a more singular tool.”“The two mandibles cross each other,” said Jules. “Instead of meeting they go criss-cross like the blades of an old pair of scissors out of order.”“What can such a rickety beak be good for,”[254]Emile asked, “with its tips pointing one up and the other down? It will never be able to pick up a seed from the ground.”“Consequently, it does not get its food from the ground. Its manner of proceeding is more complicated.“First I will say that the bird is known as a crossbill, from the position of the two mandibles. This odd arrangement is not the result of an accident to the bird, as for instance a sprain following some violent effort; it is not a crippled beak, nor is it a rickety beak, as Emile calls it, but a beak in its natural and perfect state. The bird is born with this odd beak and has never had any other. It is even extremely doubtful whether it would consent to make a change if it had the opportunity, so useful a tool is this beak for the work it has to do. The crossbill has a fondness for pine seeds above all other food. Take a pine-cone and lift the scales with the point of a penknife. You will find behind each scale two seeds full of oil and smelling slightly of resin. They are the titbits the bird is after. But how get at them under scales so hard and so firmly held in place? In vain would the grosbeak hammer at these scales with its strong tool; it would never succeed in opening them. Even we ourselves with the aid of a knife find it difficult. But the crossbill makes play of this hard work. It inserts the tip of one mandible under the scale and, using the other as a fulcrum, pries with a turning movement until the scale is lifted and the seed laid bare; and the[255]whole thing is done in next to no time. A key turning in the lock does not push the bolt more easily.”“I must change my mind,” Jules acknowledged, “about this beak that at first seemed to me so awkward; it is a first-rate key to force the lock of a pine-cone.”“And it is not less useful,” proceeded his uncle, “in quartering apples and getting out the pips. I should not like to have crossbills by the dozen in any orchard of mine; they would soon tear all the fruit to pieces. Fortunately, it is not our level plains that these birds choose as their haunts, but cold, mountainous regions covered with dark forests of cone-bearing evergreens. Their plumage is bright red more or less tinged with green and yellow. Crossbills breed in the coldest countries of Europe and build their nests even in midwinter. Their materials are moss and lichens, made to shed the melting snow by a coating of resin.“I shall enter no plea for the crossbill: its taste for apple and pear seeds is a serious matter; but I will mention certain things that seem to plead for the granivorous birds as a class. First, the greater number of these birds feed on wild seeds of no value to us even if not actually harmful to our cultivated fields. We weed our tilled land, clearing it of all plants that exhaust it to no purpose. Many granivorous birds also weed, in their own way: they gather the seeds that would otherwise infest the soil. For example, must we not acknowledge the services of the goldfinch, which, when thistles have matured,[256]alights on their prickly heads and searches for the seeds amid the thistle-down? I need not describe this pretty little bird, so well is it known to you all.”“It has a splash of red on its head,” said Emile, “with yellow, black, and white on its wings.”LinnetLinnet“Yes, that is the goldfinch. Its nest, which is one of the most carefully built to be found anywhere, is placed in the fork of some flexible branch. The outside consists of mosses and lichens with a padding of down from thistles and other plants bearing seeds that have silky tufts, as for example the groundsel and the dandelion. The inside, artistically rounded, is lined with a thick layer of horsehair, wool, and feathers. The eggs, five or six in number, are white with reddish-brown spots, chiefly at the large end. The goldfinch merits our gratitude: it cheers us with its singing and works diligently at weeding lands infested with thistles and groundsel.“I will say as much in favor of the linnet, which feeds on all kinds of small seeds in our fields and to that extent follows the honorable trade of weeding. At the same time I will not hide its liking for linseed, which has given it the name it bears. It is very fond of hemp-seed, also. But hemp and flax are[257]not found everywhere, and the bird manages to get along very well without them by gathering a quantity of other seeds, more or less harmful to agriculture. It likes to breed in hilly country, choosing some thickly grown juniper-tree or bush. Its nest contains five or six white eggs with red spots. Its plumage is brown with a dash of crimson on head and breast.“To the part of weeders, seed-eating birds add a second even more praiseworthy one. Seeds, it is true, furnish their customary food; but most of the birds devour a great number of insects when these are plentiful and easy to find. If they lack the patience to hunt for worms in their most hidden retreats with the painstaking care of the slender-beaks, they at least profit by those that fortune places within their reach. A few grubs to season their regular diet of seeds are a godsend to them; and, moreover, their favorite seeds may by some mischance be lacking in their neighborhood. Not every day can the goldfinch find thistle-seeds nor the linnet flaxseed. What, then, is to be done except to have patience and in the meantime eat insects?“Last but not least, in their young days when, weak and featherless, they are fed from the parents’ beak, many granivorous birds are brought up on insects. The reason is plain enough. You can readily understand that the delicate crop of a young bird just out of the shell has not the strength to digest hard, dry seeds. It must have something more nourishing, something smaller and, above all,[258]more succulent, such as a marmalade of grubs prepared in the mother’s beak. A few days later, with the first growth of down, will come little soft caterpillars served whole; then tougher insects will prepare the stomach for the more difficult digestion of seeds. I select a few examples at random.“The chaffinch, the gay chaffinch, is well known to be a granivorous bird, a lover of millet and hemp-seed. Now, what does it give its little ones while they are still in the nest? It gives them hairless caterpillars and tender larvæ, chosen as being the easiest food to digest. I can say the same of the greenfinch, a bird with plumage midway between green and yellow; of the bullfinch, known by its red breast and stomach; and of the various buntings that come in the winter in flocks, pecking around our straw-stacks. These last, however, feed perhaps more than the others on seeds, as they have on the inside of the upper mandible a small, hard excrescence intended expressly for crushing them.“I might add to these examples, but prefer to conclude with a bird that is one of the most familiar to you, the sparrow. Here, certainly, we have an undoubted seed-eater. It raids our dove-cotes and poultry-yards and steals the food of our pigeons and poultry. It goes a-harvesting in the grain-fields before our reapers have begun their task. A great many other misdeeds are laid at its door. It strips cherry-trees, plunders our gardens, forages for sprouting seeds, regales itself on young lettuce, and nips the first little leaflets of green peas. But when[259]hatching-time comes this bold pilferer is transformed into a helper inferior to none. At least twenty times an hour the father and the mother, by turns, bring a mouthful to their young ones, and each time it consists of either a caterpillar or an insect large enough to require quartering, or perhaps a larva as fat as butter; or it may be a grasshopper or some other small game. In one week the brood consumes about three thousand insects, including larvæ, caterpillars, and grubs of all kinds. I have counted in the immediate vicinity of a single nest of these birds the remains of seven hundred June-bugs besides small insects without number. Behold what a store of food is needed for raising only one brood! What quantities of vermin, then, must all the broods of a community devour! After such services let him who will presume to raise a hand against our sparrows; as for me, I leave them in peace as long as they do not become too troublesome.European House SparrowEuropean House Sparrow“My closing word is this: eaters of seeds and eaters of insects, grosbeaks and slender-beaks, some in greater degree, some in less, all come to our aid. Peace, then, to the little birds, the joy of the country-side and the protectors of our crops!”[260]
[Contents]CHAPTER XXXIIIGRANIVOROUS BIRDS“It might at first seem that I ought to be as lenient toward those who hunt granivorous birds as I have just shown myself severe toward the destroyers of insectivorous birds; for can it be denied that birds given to a vegetable diet are harmful to our crops, that they plunder our grain-fields and devour great quantities of seeds, buds, fruit, and young garden plants? Some of them know how to extract the wheat grains from the ear, and others boldly come to get their share of the oats thrown to the poultry in our barnyards. Others, again, prefer the juicy flesh of fruit and know before we do when cherries are ripe or pears are mellow, so that when we come to gather in the harvest all that we find is merely what they have left. There are even some that have a queer-shaped beak for splitting fruit open and dividing it into quarters so as to get at the pips, which are to them the very choicest of titbits. Look at this one’s beak and tell me if you have ever seen a more singular tool.”“The two mandibles cross each other,” said Jules. “Instead of meeting they go criss-cross like the blades of an old pair of scissors out of order.”“What can such a rickety beak be good for,”[254]Emile asked, “with its tips pointing one up and the other down? It will never be able to pick up a seed from the ground.”“Consequently, it does not get its food from the ground. Its manner of proceeding is more complicated.“First I will say that the bird is known as a crossbill, from the position of the two mandibles. This odd arrangement is not the result of an accident to the bird, as for instance a sprain following some violent effort; it is not a crippled beak, nor is it a rickety beak, as Emile calls it, but a beak in its natural and perfect state. The bird is born with this odd beak and has never had any other. It is even extremely doubtful whether it would consent to make a change if it had the opportunity, so useful a tool is this beak for the work it has to do. The crossbill has a fondness for pine seeds above all other food. Take a pine-cone and lift the scales with the point of a penknife. You will find behind each scale two seeds full of oil and smelling slightly of resin. They are the titbits the bird is after. But how get at them under scales so hard and so firmly held in place? In vain would the grosbeak hammer at these scales with its strong tool; it would never succeed in opening them. Even we ourselves with the aid of a knife find it difficult. But the crossbill makes play of this hard work. It inserts the tip of one mandible under the scale and, using the other as a fulcrum, pries with a turning movement until the scale is lifted and the seed laid bare; and the[255]whole thing is done in next to no time. A key turning in the lock does not push the bolt more easily.”“I must change my mind,” Jules acknowledged, “about this beak that at first seemed to me so awkward; it is a first-rate key to force the lock of a pine-cone.”“And it is not less useful,” proceeded his uncle, “in quartering apples and getting out the pips. I should not like to have crossbills by the dozen in any orchard of mine; they would soon tear all the fruit to pieces. Fortunately, it is not our level plains that these birds choose as their haunts, but cold, mountainous regions covered with dark forests of cone-bearing evergreens. Their plumage is bright red more or less tinged with green and yellow. Crossbills breed in the coldest countries of Europe and build their nests even in midwinter. Their materials are moss and lichens, made to shed the melting snow by a coating of resin.“I shall enter no plea for the crossbill: its taste for apple and pear seeds is a serious matter; but I will mention certain things that seem to plead for the granivorous birds as a class. First, the greater number of these birds feed on wild seeds of no value to us even if not actually harmful to our cultivated fields. We weed our tilled land, clearing it of all plants that exhaust it to no purpose. Many granivorous birds also weed, in their own way: they gather the seeds that would otherwise infest the soil. For example, must we not acknowledge the services of the goldfinch, which, when thistles have matured,[256]alights on their prickly heads and searches for the seeds amid the thistle-down? I need not describe this pretty little bird, so well is it known to you all.”“It has a splash of red on its head,” said Emile, “with yellow, black, and white on its wings.”LinnetLinnet“Yes, that is the goldfinch. Its nest, which is one of the most carefully built to be found anywhere, is placed in the fork of some flexible branch. The outside consists of mosses and lichens with a padding of down from thistles and other plants bearing seeds that have silky tufts, as for example the groundsel and the dandelion. The inside, artistically rounded, is lined with a thick layer of horsehair, wool, and feathers. The eggs, five or six in number, are white with reddish-brown spots, chiefly at the large end. The goldfinch merits our gratitude: it cheers us with its singing and works diligently at weeding lands infested with thistles and groundsel.“I will say as much in favor of the linnet, which feeds on all kinds of small seeds in our fields and to that extent follows the honorable trade of weeding. At the same time I will not hide its liking for linseed, which has given it the name it bears. It is very fond of hemp-seed, also. But hemp and flax are[257]not found everywhere, and the bird manages to get along very well without them by gathering a quantity of other seeds, more or less harmful to agriculture. It likes to breed in hilly country, choosing some thickly grown juniper-tree or bush. Its nest contains five or six white eggs with red spots. Its plumage is brown with a dash of crimson on head and breast.“To the part of weeders, seed-eating birds add a second even more praiseworthy one. Seeds, it is true, furnish their customary food; but most of the birds devour a great number of insects when these are plentiful and easy to find. If they lack the patience to hunt for worms in their most hidden retreats with the painstaking care of the slender-beaks, they at least profit by those that fortune places within their reach. A few grubs to season their regular diet of seeds are a godsend to them; and, moreover, their favorite seeds may by some mischance be lacking in their neighborhood. Not every day can the goldfinch find thistle-seeds nor the linnet flaxseed. What, then, is to be done except to have patience and in the meantime eat insects?“Last but not least, in their young days when, weak and featherless, they are fed from the parents’ beak, many granivorous birds are brought up on insects. The reason is plain enough. You can readily understand that the delicate crop of a young bird just out of the shell has not the strength to digest hard, dry seeds. It must have something more nourishing, something smaller and, above all,[258]more succulent, such as a marmalade of grubs prepared in the mother’s beak. A few days later, with the first growth of down, will come little soft caterpillars served whole; then tougher insects will prepare the stomach for the more difficult digestion of seeds. I select a few examples at random.“The chaffinch, the gay chaffinch, is well known to be a granivorous bird, a lover of millet and hemp-seed. Now, what does it give its little ones while they are still in the nest? It gives them hairless caterpillars and tender larvæ, chosen as being the easiest food to digest. I can say the same of the greenfinch, a bird with plumage midway between green and yellow; of the bullfinch, known by its red breast and stomach; and of the various buntings that come in the winter in flocks, pecking around our straw-stacks. These last, however, feed perhaps more than the others on seeds, as they have on the inside of the upper mandible a small, hard excrescence intended expressly for crushing them.“I might add to these examples, but prefer to conclude with a bird that is one of the most familiar to you, the sparrow. Here, certainly, we have an undoubted seed-eater. It raids our dove-cotes and poultry-yards and steals the food of our pigeons and poultry. It goes a-harvesting in the grain-fields before our reapers have begun their task. A great many other misdeeds are laid at its door. It strips cherry-trees, plunders our gardens, forages for sprouting seeds, regales itself on young lettuce, and nips the first little leaflets of green peas. But when[259]hatching-time comes this bold pilferer is transformed into a helper inferior to none. At least twenty times an hour the father and the mother, by turns, bring a mouthful to their young ones, and each time it consists of either a caterpillar or an insect large enough to require quartering, or perhaps a larva as fat as butter; or it may be a grasshopper or some other small game. In one week the brood consumes about three thousand insects, including larvæ, caterpillars, and grubs of all kinds. I have counted in the immediate vicinity of a single nest of these birds the remains of seven hundred June-bugs besides small insects without number. Behold what a store of food is needed for raising only one brood! What quantities of vermin, then, must all the broods of a community devour! After such services let him who will presume to raise a hand against our sparrows; as for me, I leave them in peace as long as they do not become too troublesome.European House SparrowEuropean House Sparrow“My closing word is this: eaters of seeds and eaters of insects, grosbeaks and slender-beaks, some in greater degree, some in less, all come to our aid. Peace, then, to the little birds, the joy of the country-side and the protectors of our crops!”[260]
CHAPTER XXXIIIGRANIVOROUS BIRDS
“It might at first seem that I ought to be as lenient toward those who hunt granivorous birds as I have just shown myself severe toward the destroyers of insectivorous birds; for can it be denied that birds given to a vegetable diet are harmful to our crops, that they plunder our grain-fields and devour great quantities of seeds, buds, fruit, and young garden plants? Some of them know how to extract the wheat grains from the ear, and others boldly come to get their share of the oats thrown to the poultry in our barnyards. Others, again, prefer the juicy flesh of fruit and know before we do when cherries are ripe or pears are mellow, so that when we come to gather in the harvest all that we find is merely what they have left. There are even some that have a queer-shaped beak for splitting fruit open and dividing it into quarters so as to get at the pips, which are to them the very choicest of titbits. Look at this one’s beak and tell me if you have ever seen a more singular tool.”“The two mandibles cross each other,” said Jules. “Instead of meeting they go criss-cross like the blades of an old pair of scissors out of order.”“What can such a rickety beak be good for,”[254]Emile asked, “with its tips pointing one up and the other down? It will never be able to pick up a seed from the ground.”“Consequently, it does not get its food from the ground. Its manner of proceeding is more complicated.“First I will say that the bird is known as a crossbill, from the position of the two mandibles. This odd arrangement is not the result of an accident to the bird, as for instance a sprain following some violent effort; it is not a crippled beak, nor is it a rickety beak, as Emile calls it, but a beak in its natural and perfect state. The bird is born with this odd beak and has never had any other. It is even extremely doubtful whether it would consent to make a change if it had the opportunity, so useful a tool is this beak for the work it has to do. The crossbill has a fondness for pine seeds above all other food. Take a pine-cone and lift the scales with the point of a penknife. You will find behind each scale two seeds full of oil and smelling slightly of resin. They are the titbits the bird is after. But how get at them under scales so hard and so firmly held in place? In vain would the grosbeak hammer at these scales with its strong tool; it would never succeed in opening them. Even we ourselves with the aid of a knife find it difficult. But the crossbill makes play of this hard work. It inserts the tip of one mandible under the scale and, using the other as a fulcrum, pries with a turning movement until the scale is lifted and the seed laid bare; and the[255]whole thing is done in next to no time. A key turning in the lock does not push the bolt more easily.”“I must change my mind,” Jules acknowledged, “about this beak that at first seemed to me so awkward; it is a first-rate key to force the lock of a pine-cone.”“And it is not less useful,” proceeded his uncle, “in quartering apples and getting out the pips. I should not like to have crossbills by the dozen in any orchard of mine; they would soon tear all the fruit to pieces. Fortunately, it is not our level plains that these birds choose as their haunts, but cold, mountainous regions covered with dark forests of cone-bearing evergreens. Their plumage is bright red more or less tinged with green and yellow. Crossbills breed in the coldest countries of Europe and build their nests even in midwinter. Their materials are moss and lichens, made to shed the melting snow by a coating of resin.“I shall enter no plea for the crossbill: its taste for apple and pear seeds is a serious matter; but I will mention certain things that seem to plead for the granivorous birds as a class. First, the greater number of these birds feed on wild seeds of no value to us even if not actually harmful to our cultivated fields. We weed our tilled land, clearing it of all plants that exhaust it to no purpose. Many granivorous birds also weed, in their own way: they gather the seeds that would otherwise infest the soil. For example, must we not acknowledge the services of the goldfinch, which, when thistles have matured,[256]alights on their prickly heads and searches for the seeds amid the thistle-down? I need not describe this pretty little bird, so well is it known to you all.”“It has a splash of red on its head,” said Emile, “with yellow, black, and white on its wings.”LinnetLinnet“Yes, that is the goldfinch. Its nest, which is one of the most carefully built to be found anywhere, is placed in the fork of some flexible branch. The outside consists of mosses and lichens with a padding of down from thistles and other plants bearing seeds that have silky tufts, as for example the groundsel and the dandelion. The inside, artistically rounded, is lined with a thick layer of horsehair, wool, and feathers. The eggs, five or six in number, are white with reddish-brown spots, chiefly at the large end. The goldfinch merits our gratitude: it cheers us with its singing and works diligently at weeding lands infested with thistles and groundsel.“I will say as much in favor of the linnet, which feeds on all kinds of small seeds in our fields and to that extent follows the honorable trade of weeding. At the same time I will not hide its liking for linseed, which has given it the name it bears. It is very fond of hemp-seed, also. But hemp and flax are[257]not found everywhere, and the bird manages to get along very well without them by gathering a quantity of other seeds, more or less harmful to agriculture. It likes to breed in hilly country, choosing some thickly grown juniper-tree or bush. Its nest contains five or six white eggs with red spots. Its plumage is brown with a dash of crimson on head and breast.“To the part of weeders, seed-eating birds add a second even more praiseworthy one. Seeds, it is true, furnish their customary food; but most of the birds devour a great number of insects when these are plentiful and easy to find. If they lack the patience to hunt for worms in their most hidden retreats with the painstaking care of the slender-beaks, they at least profit by those that fortune places within their reach. A few grubs to season their regular diet of seeds are a godsend to them; and, moreover, their favorite seeds may by some mischance be lacking in their neighborhood. Not every day can the goldfinch find thistle-seeds nor the linnet flaxseed. What, then, is to be done except to have patience and in the meantime eat insects?“Last but not least, in their young days when, weak and featherless, they are fed from the parents’ beak, many granivorous birds are brought up on insects. The reason is plain enough. You can readily understand that the delicate crop of a young bird just out of the shell has not the strength to digest hard, dry seeds. It must have something more nourishing, something smaller and, above all,[258]more succulent, such as a marmalade of grubs prepared in the mother’s beak. A few days later, with the first growth of down, will come little soft caterpillars served whole; then tougher insects will prepare the stomach for the more difficult digestion of seeds. I select a few examples at random.“The chaffinch, the gay chaffinch, is well known to be a granivorous bird, a lover of millet and hemp-seed. Now, what does it give its little ones while they are still in the nest? It gives them hairless caterpillars and tender larvæ, chosen as being the easiest food to digest. I can say the same of the greenfinch, a bird with plumage midway between green and yellow; of the bullfinch, known by its red breast and stomach; and of the various buntings that come in the winter in flocks, pecking around our straw-stacks. These last, however, feed perhaps more than the others on seeds, as they have on the inside of the upper mandible a small, hard excrescence intended expressly for crushing them.“I might add to these examples, but prefer to conclude with a bird that is one of the most familiar to you, the sparrow. Here, certainly, we have an undoubted seed-eater. It raids our dove-cotes and poultry-yards and steals the food of our pigeons and poultry. It goes a-harvesting in the grain-fields before our reapers have begun their task. A great many other misdeeds are laid at its door. It strips cherry-trees, plunders our gardens, forages for sprouting seeds, regales itself on young lettuce, and nips the first little leaflets of green peas. But when[259]hatching-time comes this bold pilferer is transformed into a helper inferior to none. At least twenty times an hour the father and the mother, by turns, bring a mouthful to their young ones, and each time it consists of either a caterpillar or an insect large enough to require quartering, or perhaps a larva as fat as butter; or it may be a grasshopper or some other small game. In one week the brood consumes about three thousand insects, including larvæ, caterpillars, and grubs of all kinds. I have counted in the immediate vicinity of a single nest of these birds the remains of seven hundred June-bugs besides small insects without number. Behold what a store of food is needed for raising only one brood! What quantities of vermin, then, must all the broods of a community devour! After such services let him who will presume to raise a hand against our sparrows; as for me, I leave them in peace as long as they do not become too troublesome.European House SparrowEuropean House Sparrow“My closing word is this: eaters of seeds and eaters of insects, grosbeaks and slender-beaks, some in greater degree, some in less, all come to our aid. Peace, then, to the little birds, the joy of the country-side and the protectors of our crops!”[260]
“It might at first seem that I ought to be as lenient toward those who hunt granivorous birds as I have just shown myself severe toward the destroyers of insectivorous birds; for can it be denied that birds given to a vegetable diet are harmful to our crops, that they plunder our grain-fields and devour great quantities of seeds, buds, fruit, and young garden plants? Some of them know how to extract the wheat grains from the ear, and others boldly come to get their share of the oats thrown to the poultry in our barnyards. Others, again, prefer the juicy flesh of fruit and know before we do when cherries are ripe or pears are mellow, so that when we come to gather in the harvest all that we find is merely what they have left. There are even some that have a queer-shaped beak for splitting fruit open and dividing it into quarters so as to get at the pips, which are to them the very choicest of titbits. Look at this one’s beak and tell me if you have ever seen a more singular tool.”
“The two mandibles cross each other,” said Jules. “Instead of meeting they go criss-cross like the blades of an old pair of scissors out of order.”
“What can such a rickety beak be good for,”[254]Emile asked, “with its tips pointing one up and the other down? It will never be able to pick up a seed from the ground.”
“Consequently, it does not get its food from the ground. Its manner of proceeding is more complicated.
“First I will say that the bird is known as a crossbill, from the position of the two mandibles. This odd arrangement is not the result of an accident to the bird, as for instance a sprain following some violent effort; it is not a crippled beak, nor is it a rickety beak, as Emile calls it, but a beak in its natural and perfect state. The bird is born with this odd beak and has never had any other. It is even extremely doubtful whether it would consent to make a change if it had the opportunity, so useful a tool is this beak for the work it has to do. The crossbill has a fondness for pine seeds above all other food. Take a pine-cone and lift the scales with the point of a penknife. You will find behind each scale two seeds full of oil and smelling slightly of resin. They are the titbits the bird is after. But how get at them under scales so hard and so firmly held in place? In vain would the grosbeak hammer at these scales with its strong tool; it would never succeed in opening them. Even we ourselves with the aid of a knife find it difficult. But the crossbill makes play of this hard work. It inserts the tip of one mandible under the scale and, using the other as a fulcrum, pries with a turning movement until the scale is lifted and the seed laid bare; and the[255]whole thing is done in next to no time. A key turning in the lock does not push the bolt more easily.”
“I must change my mind,” Jules acknowledged, “about this beak that at first seemed to me so awkward; it is a first-rate key to force the lock of a pine-cone.”
“And it is not less useful,” proceeded his uncle, “in quartering apples and getting out the pips. I should not like to have crossbills by the dozen in any orchard of mine; they would soon tear all the fruit to pieces. Fortunately, it is not our level plains that these birds choose as their haunts, but cold, mountainous regions covered with dark forests of cone-bearing evergreens. Their plumage is bright red more or less tinged with green and yellow. Crossbills breed in the coldest countries of Europe and build their nests even in midwinter. Their materials are moss and lichens, made to shed the melting snow by a coating of resin.
“I shall enter no plea for the crossbill: its taste for apple and pear seeds is a serious matter; but I will mention certain things that seem to plead for the granivorous birds as a class. First, the greater number of these birds feed on wild seeds of no value to us even if not actually harmful to our cultivated fields. We weed our tilled land, clearing it of all plants that exhaust it to no purpose. Many granivorous birds also weed, in their own way: they gather the seeds that would otherwise infest the soil. For example, must we not acknowledge the services of the goldfinch, which, when thistles have matured,[256]alights on their prickly heads and searches for the seeds amid the thistle-down? I need not describe this pretty little bird, so well is it known to you all.”
“It has a splash of red on its head,” said Emile, “with yellow, black, and white on its wings.”
LinnetLinnet
Linnet
“Yes, that is the goldfinch. Its nest, which is one of the most carefully built to be found anywhere, is placed in the fork of some flexible branch. The outside consists of mosses and lichens with a padding of down from thistles and other plants bearing seeds that have silky tufts, as for example the groundsel and the dandelion. The inside, artistically rounded, is lined with a thick layer of horsehair, wool, and feathers. The eggs, five or six in number, are white with reddish-brown spots, chiefly at the large end. The goldfinch merits our gratitude: it cheers us with its singing and works diligently at weeding lands infested with thistles and groundsel.
“I will say as much in favor of the linnet, which feeds on all kinds of small seeds in our fields and to that extent follows the honorable trade of weeding. At the same time I will not hide its liking for linseed, which has given it the name it bears. It is very fond of hemp-seed, also. But hemp and flax are[257]not found everywhere, and the bird manages to get along very well without them by gathering a quantity of other seeds, more or less harmful to agriculture. It likes to breed in hilly country, choosing some thickly grown juniper-tree or bush. Its nest contains five or six white eggs with red spots. Its plumage is brown with a dash of crimson on head and breast.
“To the part of weeders, seed-eating birds add a second even more praiseworthy one. Seeds, it is true, furnish their customary food; but most of the birds devour a great number of insects when these are plentiful and easy to find. If they lack the patience to hunt for worms in their most hidden retreats with the painstaking care of the slender-beaks, they at least profit by those that fortune places within their reach. A few grubs to season their regular diet of seeds are a godsend to them; and, moreover, their favorite seeds may by some mischance be lacking in their neighborhood. Not every day can the goldfinch find thistle-seeds nor the linnet flaxseed. What, then, is to be done except to have patience and in the meantime eat insects?
“Last but not least, in their young days when, weak and featherless, they are fed from the parents’ beak, many granivorous birds are brought up on insects. The reason is plain enough. You can readily understand that the delicate crop of a young bird just out of the shell has not the strength to digest hard, dry seeds. It must have something more nourishing, something smaller and, above all,[258]more succulent, such as a marmalade of grubs prepared in the mother’s beak. A few days later, with the first growth of down, will come little soft caterpillars served whole; then tougher insects will prepare the stomach for the more difficult digestion of seeds. I select a few examples at random.
“The chaffinch, the gay chaffinch, is well known to be a granivorous bird, a lover of millet and hemp-seed. Now, what does it give its little ones while they are still in the nest? It gives them hairless caterpillars and tender larvæ, chosen as being the easiest food to digest. I can say the same of the greenfinch, a bird with plumage midway between green and yellow; of the bullfinch, known by its red breast and stomach; and of the various buntings that come in the winter in flocks, pecking around our straw-stacks. These last, however, feed perhaps more than the others on seeds, as they have on the inside of the upper mandible a small, hard excrescence intended expressly for crushing them.
“I might add to these examples, but prefer to conclude with a bird that is one of the most familiar to you, the sparrow. Here, certainly, we have an undoubted seed-eater. It raids our dove-cotes and poultry-yards and steals the food of our pigeons and poultry. It goes a-harvesting in the grain-fields before our reapers have begun their task. A great many other misdeeds are laid at its door. It strips cherry-trees, plunders our gardens, forages for sprouting seeds, regales itself on young lettuce, and nips the first little leaflets of green peas. But when[259]hatching-time comes this bold pilferer is transformed into a helper inferior to none. At least twenty times an hour the father and the mother, by turns, bring a mouthful to their young ones, and each time it consists of either a caterpillar or an insect large enough to require quartering, or perhaps a larva as fat as butter; or it may be a grasshopper or some other small game. In one week the brood consumes about three thousand insects, including larvæ, caterpillars, and grubs of all kinds. I have counted in the immediate vicinity of a single nest of these birds the remains of seven hundred June-bugs besides small insects without number. Behold what a store of food is needed for raising only one brood! What quantities of vermin, then, must all the broods of a community devour! After such services let him who will presume to raise a hand against our sparrows; as for me, I leave them in peace as long as they do not become too troublesome.
European House SparrowEuropean House Sparrow
European House Sparrow
“My closing word is this: eaters of seeds and eaters of insects, grosbeaks and slender-beaks, some in greater degree, some in less, all come to our aid. Peace, then, to the little birds, the joy of the country-side and the protectors of our crops!”[260]