Chapter 4

Great Spotted Woodpeckers

Drumming Snipe.

CHAPTER VII.

How to tell Birds on the Wing

(continued).

"The seamew’s lonely laughterFlits down the flowing wave;The green scarts follow afterThe surge where cross-tides rave."—Fiona Macleod.

Falcons—golden eagle—harriers and sparrow-hawk—The heron—The cormorant, shag, and gannet—The petrels—Guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins—The ducks—The great crested grebe and dabchick—The pigeons—The “plover tribe”—The gulls and terns—The game birds.

Ournative birds of prey, the owls and hawks, have been so harassed by game-keepers that many species are now exterminated, while others are but rarely seen. Some, however, in favoured localities still remain to us. At one time the owls and hawks were believed to be nearly related: they were distinguished as the “Nocturnal” and “Diurnal” birds of prey. We now know that they are not in the remotest degree related. The owls, indeed, are closely related to the nightjars. They have been already discussed here. The hawk tribe must now have their turn.

The one most commonly seen to-day is the kestrel, which is really a falcon, not a “hawk.” No bird is so easily identified onthe wing. And this because of its habit of hovering in mid-air as though suspended from the sky by some invisible thread, while it searches the earth far below for stray mice. The kestrel’s lordly relative, the peregrine-falcon, is now-a-days only to be seen in a few favoured spots, out in the wilds—on beetling cliffs washed by the restless sea, or inland precipices. Those who have the good fortune to see it at rest may know it by its large size, strongly barred under-parts, dark blue-grey back and wings, and dark moustachial stripe. On the wing it is a joy to watch, for its flight impresses one as something irresistible: something from which there can be no escape, so swift is it, and so terrible in its directness and strength. A few rapid beats of its long pointed wings, then a long glide on motionless pinions, and it is swallowed up in the distance. On the moors of Scotland it is regarded with cordial dislike, because of the terror it spreads among the grouse. Hence, unhappily, every man’s hand is against it.

The little hobby is another of our falcons which is remorselessly shot down by the game-keepers, who, all too commonly, lack both knowledge and discretion. In appearance it closely resembles the peregrine, and its flight is similar. It feeds chiefly on small birds, dragon-flies, and beetles. You may hope to find it—generally in vain—in well-wooded districts, from April to September, in the southern counties of England. In the north of England and Scotland, if Fortune favours, you may find the merlin;our smallest British falcon; the male scarcely exceeds a blackbird in size. Moors and the heath-covered brows of sea-cliffs are perhaps its favourite haunts. Its flight is swift, buoyant, and low. Unlike the hobby, gliding movements are not conspicuous. The male is of a slate-blue, and has a broad black band across the tail. The female is larger than her mate, dark brown on the back and wings, and white, streaked with brown, below. It feeds almost entirely on small birds, but varies this diet with beetles and dragon-flies.

Wherever there are deer-forests in Scotland, even to-day,—but nowhere else in Great Britain—may you count on seeing the golden-eagle. And it is a sight to gladden the eyes. Its great size, broad wings, and wide-spread, upturned, primaries, are unmistakable, when seen on the wing—and it is rarely that you will see it else.

Those who cannot contrive to visit the haunts of the golden-eagle may find ample compensation in watching the flight of the common buzzard in Wales, the Devonian peninsula, and the Lake District. Though time was when it might be seen all over England, wherever woods abounded. Its flight, when hunting, strikes one as somewhat slow and heavy. In fine weather, however, as if for the mere delight of the exercise, it will mount heaven-wards in great sweeping spirals, holding its broad wings almost horizontally, and spread so that the primaries stand widelyapart for half their length, and in this joyous movement they will remain aloft for hours on end.

But for the untiring efforts of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, none of our larger birds of prey—save, perhaps, the golden eagle, which is carefully cherished in the deer-forests—would now be left to us. The case of our harriers seemed hopeless. But, thanks to a zealous protection, a remnant remains.

The harriers are in many ways extremely interesting birds. In appearance, when closely examined, they present one remarkable feature. And this is found in the curious arrangement of the feathers of the face which radiate from the eye as a centre, as in the owls, to form a “facial disc.” They are all large birds, of slender build, and have a habit of flying close to the ground with their long, slender legs dangling, crossing and re-crossing the same area till they are sure they have examined it thoroughly. Frogs, eggs, small birds, and voles form their principal food. Every now and again they will rise and circle round at a considerable height, seeking a new feeding ground.

The marsh-harrier is our largest harrier, and has rounded wings, and slower wing-beats than the others, from which it is further readily distinguished by its chocolate brown coloration, cream-coloured head, and grey tail and secondaries, which contrast strongly with the black primaries. The hen-harrier breeds only in the Orkneys and the Outer Hebrides. It is distinguishedby its grey coloration and pure white rump-patch. Montagu’s harrier is a somewhat smaller bird, and has black bars on the secondaries. In flight it is more graceful and buoyant than its relatives, and this is accomplished by three or four wing-beats, alternating with a long glide on half-raised pinions. It, again, nests annually in East Anglia, thanks to protection.

There remains but one other bird of prey to mention here, and this is the sparrow-hawk. It may be easily recognized during flight by its short, rounded wings and long tail. The female, which is much larger than her mate, has the under parts distinctly barred. The breast of the male is similarly marked, but the bars, being of a pale rufous, or rust-colour, and much narrower, are less conspicuous. It has a very rapid and gliding flight, just above the ground, or along hedgerows, which it scours in its search for small birds.

There may be many who will fare forth to find the harrier on the wing. If they succeed they will indeed be fortunate. But there is one bird that most certainly will be seen in the “harrier-country,” and that is the heron. There can be no mistaking him. He may be found, a large, grey bird, standing contemplative, knee-deep by the river’s margin, or in some ditch, awaiting the moment to strike at some unwary fish, frog, or water-vole. The moment he discovers that he is being watched he will be on the move. He rises heavily, almost awkwardly, with flapping wingsand outstretched neck: his legs dangling down. But no sooner is he well on the way than he hauls in his neck till the head is drawn close to the body, and straightens out his legs till they extend behind him like a pair of streamers. Henceforth his flight is easy and graceful enough. This is the bird which was so much prized in the old days of “hawking.” The invention of the gun ended this most fascinating form of sport.

Let us turn now, for a little while, from moor and wood and fen, to the sea-shore, and, for choice, to a rock-bound coast with towering cliffs. Here you will find a number of species which will never be found inland. They love the sea, whether it be shimmering in the sun of a blazing June day, smooth as a millpond, or in a fury of thundering billows, lashed by a roaring gale in bleak December. The bottle-green shag is one of these. You cannot mistake him. Perched on a rock he sits upright, and, in the spring, wears a crest upon his head. On the water he floats with the body well down, and every few moments disappears with a spring into the depths, for his never-ending meal of fish and crabs. His flight, just above the water, is strong and rapid. His cousin, the cormorant, is a conspicuously larger bird, with a bronze-coloured plumage. In the breeding season his head has a hoary appearance, due to the presence of numerous filamentous feathers, known as “filoplumes”; while the throat is white, and there is a large white patch on the thigh. He has a habit, after a full meal, of sitting on some convenient perch with wings spread wide open and open-mouthed, apparently as an aid to digestion. But he is by no means so wedded to the sea as the shag. Rivers and inland waters will serve him as well as the sea.

1.Partridge.2.Gannet.3.Whitethroat.4.Red-backed Shrike.5.Magpie.6.Goldfinch.7.Great Crested Grebe.8.Buzzard.9.Puffin.10.Grey Wagtail.

The gannet, though very nearly related to the cormorant, is a bird of very different habits and appearance. When adult it is snow white in plumage, with blue beak and feet, and can be mistaken for no other bird. Its peculiar mode of fishing was described inChapter II.

Finally, there are two most interesting features of these birds which are worth remembering. To wit, the toes are all enclosed within one web, and they have no nostrils, and but the merest apology for a tongue.

And now we come to the petrels. These are for the most part nocturnal birds, spending the day in burrows. They would, therefore, find no place in these pages but for the fact that one may occasionally be seen at sea when one is fishing off the shore in a boat. The commonest is that known as the Manx shearwater. Rather larger than a pigeon, it may be distinguished by its flight, which is rapid; the wings presenting periods of rapid quivering, alternating with long sailing with fixed, widely spread, narrow pinions. At one moment one sees only the deep black of the back, the next the pure white of the under parts as the birds turn now this way, now that, holding the outstretched wings at right anglesto the surface during the turn, so that one wing barely misses the waves, while the other points skywards.

Sometimes too, one may see the little “Mother Carey’s Chicken.” A tiny sprite sooty-black in colour, and with a white rump patch, it often flies so close to the water that it is able to patter along the surface with its feet, as it flies.

The fulmar petrel is indeed a child of the sea, for, except in the breeding season, it never comes to land. But at sea you may have the good fortune to see it off the east coast of Great Britain, and the north and west of Ireland—and in winter off the south and west coasts of England. Though in coloration resembling a common gull, it may always be distinguished, when on the wing, by its narrow wings, curved like a bow—not sharply angled as those of a gull, and the primaries are not black-tipped. Its flight is strong and powerful: slow wing-beats alternating with long glides. On far St. Kilda, in the breeding season, you may find them in great hosts. For some unexplained reason they are increasing in numbers, and may now also be found breeding in the Shetlands, Hebrides, and Orkneys.

Some who read these pages may, perchance, be stimulated by a desire to enlarge their acquaintance with our sea-birds by spending a day at sea in a small row-boat. For choice, one of the larger breeding-stations should be visited. Horn Head, Donegal; St. Kilda, The Scilly Islands, the Bempton cliffs, Yorkshire;The Farne Islands, Fowlsheugh, Stonehaven; the Orkneys, the Shetlands, or the Hebrides, are all renowned resorts. Here are thrilling sights indeed. Guillemots, razor-bills, and puffins are congregated in swarms, which must be seen to be believed. Few birds are more easy to tell at sight as they scuttle past one on the way down to the water from the cliffs, or returning laden with food for their young. The puffin is easily the most conspicuous, since he flies with his little yellow legs stuck out on each side of his apology for a tail. And for a further token there is his great red and yellow beak. The guillemot has a sooty brown head and neck—in his breeding dress—slate-grey back and white under parts, and a pointed beak; while the razor-bill, similarly coloured, is to be distinguished by the narrow white lines down his highly compressed beak. By good fortune, the white-winged black guillemot may be found among the host. His white wings contrasting with the black plumage of the rest of the body, and his red legs, suffice to identify him.

On the Farne Islands, as well as on the Orkneys and Shetlands, you may be sure of finding the Eider-duck, one of the most singular, and most beautiful members of the duck family. It is singular because of its coloration; the under parts of the body being of a velvet black, while the upper parts are white, thus exactly reversing the normal distribution of these “colours.” The rosy hue which suffuses the fore-part of the breast, and the brightgreen patch on the cheek, make up an unforgettable scheme of coloration. The female is very soberly clad, being of a dark brown, barred with black. A further, and valuable, identification mark is furnished by her beak, which, like that of her lord, seems unusually long, owing to the sloping forehead. The flight is slow and close down to the water.

The sheld-duck is another strikingly coloured species that is commonly seen on sandy shores and estuaries. There can be no mistaking it. On the wing it has a conspicuously pied appearance, while the flight seems slow and rather laboured. Seen at rest, and fairly near, a broad chestnut band across the breast, and a black band down its middle will be noticed, while the black head and neck are admirably contrasted with a coral red beak. The legs are pale pink. In winter, on parts of the east coast, they sometimes form flocks of several hundreds. The heavy-bodied, black ducks, one often sees scurrying along, close to the water, sometimes in immense flocks, are common scoters. The male is entirely black, with an apricot yellow beak-patch, the female is a dark brown, with grey cheeks.

1.Peregrine Falcon.2.Kestrel.3.Merlin.4.Golden Eagle.5.Montagu’s Harrier.6.Goshawk.7.Osprey.8.Sparrow Hawk.

Though the duck-tribe is represented by a considerable number of species, the number likely to be seen by the casual wanderer is very few; for these birds mostly keep well under cover during the day. In addition to the three species just described there are at least two others which are not infrequently seen, out in the open, during the day. One of these is the goosander, which, on the lochs and rivers of Scotland, is common; and it is also frequently encountered in similar situations in the northern counties of England. You may know him by his bottle-green head, which bears a crest, black back, and white wings. His breast is suffused with a wonderful pale salmon colour—which fades away within a few hours of death, leaving the breast white. The beak is long, pointed, and coral red. Moreover, its edges are armed with horny teeth. For he is a fish-eater, capturing his prey by diving. On the wing he is very fast, but he rises from the water but slowly. His mate has a reddish-brown head and neck, and a grey back. The second species referred to is the mallard, though it is only very occasionally, and by accident, met with during the day. Its appearance has been so well represented in the coloured Plate that there is no need for description.

When on the margins of lakes, large ponds, or slow-moving streams, keep a look-out for two very remarkable divers—the great-crested grebe and the dabchick. Both float low in the water, and may be identified at once from the fact that they have no tail. The great-crested grebe has a conspicuous dark chestnut-red frill round his neck, which can be set out like an Elizabethan ruff, at will, though this is rarely done save in the courting season. The dabchick is a small bird—rather smaller than a pigeon—and has no erectile ornaments. The “grebe-flight” isshown in the coloured drawings, and it has further been already described. They will vanish beneath the water with startling suddenness, and remain below for a surprising length of time; emerging at last far from the spot at which the dive was taken.

One of the commonest birds of the country-side is the ring-dove, or woodpigeon. He is the largest of our pigeons, and may further be distinguished by the white half-ring round his neck. His flight scarcely needs to be described, for it differs in no essentials from the pigeons of our dove-cotes. His courtship flight has already been described here. The stock-dove is not quite so conspicuous, but may be readily distinguished from the fact that the neck has no white patch, while the out-spread wings are marked by an imperfect bar of black. It is a bird, by the way, which shows a strange diversity of taste in the selection of the site for its nursery—a rabbit-burrow, a hole in a tree, an old squirrels drey, or the cross-beams in an old church tower! The rock-dove haunts deep caverns worn out of the cliffs, both inland and on the coast. But one can never be certain that one is watchingreallywild birds. Certain it is that most of the “rock-doves” one sees are domesticated birds run wild. This is the ancestor of our dove-cote birds, from some of which, those with a white rump and two black wing-bars, they cannot be distinguished. It is on account of this ancestry that our domesticated pigeons never alight in trees. They are inherentlycliff dwellers. The turtle dove is a summer visitor to the British Islands. The cinnamon brown of its back, bluish ash-grey head, wing-coverts and rump, the patch of black on its neck, and the fan-shaped tail, tipped with white, readily distinguish it from the other three species just described.

Where the summer holidays are spent by the sea—in places where there are no bands, piers, “promenades,” and other abominations of “civilization”—one may spend delicious hours watching some of our “wading-birds.” On such parts of the coast as have a rocky shore one may be sure of finding the handsome oystercatcher, a black-and-white bird, with a long red beak, and flesh-coloured legs. His loud, shrill “wheep-wheep” seems to harmonize perfectly with his wild surroundings. His striking coloration, shrill note, and swift powerful flight, make confusion with any other bird impossible. One is also sure to find the ringed-plover. A little bird with a pale brown back, a white forehead with a bar of black above it, black face, and a black band at the base of the white neck. The beak is short, and the legs yellow. The wings, in flight, are long and pointed, and marked with a white bar. The outer tail-feathers, spread during flight, are also white. It runs rapidly about, swiftly picking up sand-hoppers and other small creatures, and always travels in small flocks. Commonly associated with the ringed-plover one finds the dunlin, grey above, white below, and with along, black beak. The peculiarities of its flight, and its strikingly different summer dress have already been described here. Sometimes you will meet with the common sandpiper; a small bird, about the size of a thrush, who runs on rather long legs, and constantly flicks his tail up and down. His coloration is of a bronzy-brown, above, more or less conspicuously marked with darker bars, and white below. In flight he shows long, pointed wings, and a tail broadly tipped with white and barred with black. More often you will find him on the banks of streams. His cousin, the redshank, a much larger bird, has already been described here in regard to his spring love-making. Later in the year he may be distinguished, when on the wing, by the large white rump-patch, white secondaries, white tail, barred with black, long pointed wings, and long, red legs.

The wary curlew, already referred to, is really a moorland bird, but spends the autumn and winter by the shore, or on the mud-flats of estuaries. His peculiar cry, a shrill “cour-lie,” readily distinguishes him. Added to this is his large size, brown coloration, and long, curved beak. On the wing, the rump and upper tail-coverts are conspicuously white.

The “waders,” sometimes collectively referred to as the “plover-tribe,” are represented in the British Islands by a very long list of species, of which only the commonest are mentioned here. Many, however, are mere casual visitors. Near allies ofthis “tribe” are the gulls and terns. The peculiarly graceful, elastic flight of these birds surely needs no description. Even town-dwellers know them well. For during the winter months they follow the rivers far inland. Even in grimy London they may be seen in hundreds during the winter months. The black-headed gull is by far the commonest of these winter visitors. But at the same time, to the uninitiated, the name “black-headed” must seem singularly inappropriate; for its head is emphaticallywhite. At no time, indeed, is it everblack. But keep careful watch of the hosts which throng the river from January, onward, till they depart for their breeding quarters, and you will see them gradually developing a dark patch on each side of the head. And this slowly spreads till the whole head is of a dark sooty brown. Immature birds may be picked out by the presence of brown feathers in the wings, and a black bar across the tip of the tail. Here and there among them, one may see much larger birds of a brownish grey colour, and with black beaks and pale coloured legs, in place of the cherry-red of the beak and legs of the “black-headed” species. These are the immature stages of the greater, and lesser black-backed gulls; or of the herring gull. When fully adult the two first-named have the back and wings of a dark slate colour, the rest of the plumage dazzling white. The beak is pale yellow, with a red spot on the angle of the lower jaw. During flight the wings are also black, but theprimaries have white tips. The herring gull has a pale pearl-grey back.

With a strange perversity the black-headed gull is commonly called, by the novice, the “kittiwake.” This is a totally different bird, rather like a herring-gull in miniature, but with a green beak and short, black legs. Moreover, it is rarely seen inland. It breeds in vast colonies on the ledges of precipitous cliffs along the Scottish coast and the west of Ireland. There are colonies, too, on Lundy, the Scilly Isles, and the Farnes.

One other gull must be mentioned here, though it is not common, save in the northern parts of Scotland. But it is a regular winter migrant down the east coast of England during the winter. This is Richardson’s skua. You may tell it at once by its dark brown coloration, and long, pointed tail. It gets its living mostly by robbing other gulls, chasing them till they disgorge their latest meal, which is seized in mid-air as it falls sea-ward!

Finally, a word or two about the “game-birds.” These are all birds easily distinguished by reason of their short, rounded, deeply convex wings, which, driven with incredible speed, produce a “whirring” sound—very pleasant to the ears of the sportsman. The flight is never continued very far. The English partridge may be distinguished by the horse-shoe mark on the breast: the French partridge by the beautiful pearl-grey colour of the flanks, relieved by short bars of black, and chestnut-red,and red legs and beak. It is also known, indeed, as the “red-legged” partridge. The pheasant is a far larger bird, with a long, pointed tail. The grouse is confined to moors. His heavy build and red coloration distinguish him at once. The black-cock is a still larger bird; the male with a wonderful metallic, steel-blue plumage, and lyrate tail. His mate—the “grey-hen”—is chestnut brown, barred with black. The capercailzie is the largest of all, almost rivalling a turkey. His size alone suffices to distinguish him. Moreover, only a very few can enjoy the pleasure of gazing at him, for he confines himself to the coniferous woods of Scotland.

Buzzard Soaring.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Wings of Nestling Birds.

"The blue eggs in the Robin’s nestWill soon have wings, and beak, and breast,And flutter and fly away."—Longfellow.

The wing of the unhatched bird—Of the coots and water-hen—The Hoatzin’s wings—The wing of Archæopteryx—Moulting—The nestling game-birds and ducks—Teaching the young to fly.

Atfirst sight it may seem a little strange to introduce nestlings into a book devoted to birds in flight. But there are aspects of the wing of nestling birds which must, indeed, be borne in mind when considering the wing of the adult.

It was pointed out, inChapter I, that the wing of the adult had but three fingers and two wrist-bones. This condition represents the last stage in the evolution of the Avian wing. The wing of the nestling gives a clue to an earlier stage in its history. But we can get even further back than this. For if we examine the wing of an unhatched bird, we shall be able to get still nearer to the birth, and growth of the wing out of a reptilian fore-limb. Here as many as six wrist-bones may be found. And the “palm-bones,” which in the adult are welded together,are here quite separate. This stage, then, carries us back towards the ancestral, reptilian, fore-limb used for walking, or perhaps for climbing. And there is another sign of this earlier, reptilian, period to be found in such a wing. At the tip of the thumb and first-finger, in unhatched ducks, game-birds, and water-hens, for example, you will find a small claw. By hatching-time the claw of the first finger will have disappeared, but it is still retained in the case of the duck and the water-hen. In the adults of all three you will rarely find more than the claw of the thumb: and this now serves no useful purpose whatever.

Indeed, there seem to be only two tribes which have any use for wing-claws during nestling life. One of these is represented by the gallinules, that is to say, the coots, and water-hens, and their kind. You may test this whenever you have the good fortune to capture a young water-hen. Place him outside the nest, and especially if it happens to be a little raised, you will see him make his way back, using feet, wing-claws, and beak. His wings, it will be noticed, at this stage are used as fore-legs. The other tribe is represented by that strange bird the hoatzin of the Amazon. Here the two claws are really large, and they play a quite important part in his early life.

For the young hoatzin is hatched in a nursery—a crude nest of sticks—placed on the boughs of a tree overhanging the water. As soon as hatched he begins to climb about the branches. Should he fall, by some mischance, into the water, he promptly swims to the bank; and by the aid of his long first finger, and wing-claws, and his huge feet, soon climbs back. But the most wonderful part of his story is yet to come.

Grouse

So long as these youngsters can only scramble about they are in constant jeopardy. A wing-surface at least big enough to break the force of a fall is an urgent necessity. And so the growth of the quill-feathers is, so to speak, pushed forward with all possible speed. But if all the feathers grew at the same rate, there would speedily come a time when the outermost feathers would make the claw at the end of the finger useless, while the wing-surface, as a whole, would be insufficient. To obviate this difficulty, the development of the outermost feathers is held in abeyance till the inner feathers of the hand, and the outermost of the fore-arm, have grown big enough to suffice to break the force of the fall. As soon as this stage is arrived at, the outermost quills, whose growth has been held in abeyance, rapidly develop; the finger decreases in length, and its claw disappears, while that of the thumb soon follows suit. And thus it comes about that the hand, in the nestling, is relatively much longer than in the adult. But in its mid-period it may be taken to represent the adult stage of the wing of the ancient Archæopteryx. This bird could have been but a poor flier, and probably during the time it was moulting its quills it was absolutely flightless,so that it needed a permanent finger-tip, and claw, beyond the margin of its wing-surface.

This matter of “moulting,” by the way, needs, at least, passing comment. All birds renew their plumage at least once: the body plumage often twice in the year. The old feathers fall out, and their places are taken by new ones. But their growth is slow. In geese and ducks, and some other birds, the wing-quills are moulted all at once, so that flight, for a week or two, is impossible. But they can escape from their enemies while thus at a disadvantage, by taking to the water. In all other birds the quills are moulted, and renewed, in pairs: so that at no time are they left flightless.

But this by the way. Let us revert, for a moment, to the hoatzin’s wing. The appearance of the outermost quills of the hand, it will be remembered, is delayed till the inner feathers have grown long enough to “flutter,” at least, for a short distance, then the growth of the complete series proceeds apace. This has been called an “Adaptation” to enable these youngsters, active from the moment they leave the egg, to move about in comparative safety. But it is more than this. It is a survival of an ancient order of things which takes us back to the first known birds.

This is certainly a very remarkable feature, but it gains an added interest from the fact that it has a parallel in the history ofthe development of the wing in the game-birds. If you look carefully at the downy chicks of the pheasant, or even at barn-door fowls, you will remark that the wing-quills develop with surprising rapidity: so that they have feathered wings while the rest of the body is still down-covered. This enables them the more easily to escape prowling foxes and other enemies. In young ducks exactly the opposite condition obtains, the body is fully feathered long before the feathers of the wings appear. And this because they do not need to fly when danger threatens, but take to the water instead. But to return to the chicks of the pheasant. The wing of the chick develops at a very rapid rate. Within a few hours after hatching, the first traces of the coming flight feathers can be seen, and presently a large wing is covering each side of the tiny body. At this stage many often die. The wings, which can then be examined at leisure, reveal an extremely interesting condition. For they repeat the features which obtain in the wing of the nestling hoatzin: inasmuch as the outermost quills are also, as yet, non-existent; and there is a free finger-tip. But it is not nearly so long as in the hoatzin, and there is no terminal claw. Surely, from this, we may infer that the delayed development of the outer quills is a survival of a time when the ancestors of the pheasant were arboreal, and hatched their young in trees. Otherwise all the wing-quills should develop at the same time, and at the same rate. Here,then, is another instance of what can be learned of the past history of a bird by a careful scrutiny of the nestling. Sometimes we shall find our evidence in the wing, sometimes in some other organ. The sequence of plumage affords abundant evidence of this. But that is another story.

So much for the “intensive” study of the wing. A brief reference must now be made to the constantly repeated statement that nestling birds are “taught” to fly by their parents. There is no evidence whatever to support this belief: and much that goes to show its improbability.

Failing more suitable sites, sand-martins will often elect to build their nests in the crevices of the masonry of bridges.

From the mouth of this substitute for a burrow is often a sheer drop of many feet to the stream below. When the nestlings, fully fledged, leave their nursery for the first time they must either “fly” from the moment they take the first plunge from the masonry, or die. Failing to make the appropriate movements of the wings nothing can save them from a watery grave. There can be no “teaching” to fly. Indeed, death no less certainly awaits every house-martin when it plunges into space from the edge of the nest. The appropriate wing-movements, necessary to produce flight, in short, are “instinctive.” Those with defective instincts are forthwith killed by falling to the ground. They leave no offspring to inherit their defects.

Perhaps the most convincing evidence of all as to the “instinctive” nature of flight, in nestling birds, is furnished by the mound-birds, of the Malay Region and Eastern Australia.

These extraordinary birds lay their eggs in heaps of decaying vegetable-matter, or in the soil near hot springs; and there leave them to their fate. They lay very large eggs, it is to be noticed, so large that the growing chick finds nourishment enough within the egg to enable it to pass the ordinary nestling stage while still within the shell. By the time it emerges it has both grown and shed its first coat of nestling-down, and has developed long wing-quills. Having burst its prison walls it wriggles its way up through the loose earth, to the light of day, ready to fight its way in the world unaided. Here, then, there can be no question of “teaching” the young to fly.

But some birds, at least, do, indeed, receive instruction when on the wing. And in such cases, it will be noticed, their food can only be captured by dexterous movements in full flight. For a day or two, for example, young swallows simply practice flight, to exercise and strengthen their wings. They are fed by their parents when at rest. The next step comes when they are fed on the wing, taking their food as they hover on trembling pinions from their parent’s beak. In a little while the food is dropped as the parent passes, and the youngsters are made to catch it as it falls. From thence, onwards, they have to do their own hunting.The clumsy ones must die. Eagles and hawks, in like manner, teach their young to capture swiftly moving prey by dropping food to them in mid-air. If one fails to catch it the parent swoops down and seizes the hard-won meal before it reaches the ground; then mounting aloft with it, drops it once more, till, at last the required dexterity is gained.

Gulls.

CHAPTER IX.

Flightless Birds.

"And first, I praise the nobler traitsOf birds preceding Noah,The giant clan, whose meat was Man,Dinornis, Apteryx, Moa."—Courthope.

The steamer duck—The owl parrot—the flightless grebe of Titicaca—The dodo and solitaire—The ostrich tribe—The penguin’s wings.

Thepoet who penned the above lines thought more of rhymes than of reasons—as Poets so often do. What were their "nobler traits"? He omits to mention them. None of them were ever carnivorous: and the Apteryx could by no stretch of the imagination be called a “giant.” The one outstanding feature which does distinguish these birds he fails entirely to appreciate—and this is their flightless condition.

A flightless bird is an anomaly. Yet there are some who profess to believe that this state affords us an insight into the early stages of the Evolution of the wing. As a matter of fact it demonstrates the exact opposite—its degeneration.

How is it that birds ever came to such a pass? A study of living flightless birds, and birds that are well on the way to this condition, will afford us a ready answer.

Whenever we find birds living, so to speak, lives of languorous ease—where there are no enemies to be evaded, where there is an abundance of food to be picked up on the ground all the year round, and the climate is kindly, there flight is no longer practised. Year by year, generation after generation passes by, and no use whatever is made of the wings. In all such cases these once most vital organs dwindle away, and finally vanish. We can trace every step in this process of decay.

We may begin with the “steamer-duck” of the Falklands. In this species, after the first moult, the power of flight is lost for ever. Among living birds only a few species, apart from the ostrich-tribe, are in this dolorous case. The owl-parrot, or kakapo, of New Zealand, is one of these. A grebe found only on Lake Titacaca, perched high up a mountain-side is another. In both these birds the keel of the sternum is represented by the merest vestige, the breast-bone being reduced to the condition found in the ostrich-tribe.

The two giant pigeons, the dodo, and its cousin the solitaire, afford instances where the loss of flight has been followed by extinction; owing to the invasion of their haunts, through the agency of man, by pigs and other domesticated animals, which destroyed their eggs and young.

The ostrich-tribe is peculiarly interesting: owing to the fact that their wings present a really wonderful series of degenerating stages.

The wings of all differ conspicuously from those of other birds in the great length and looseness of the texture of the feathers. Those of the African ostrich are the largest of all; but they are quite useless for the purpose of flight, though they are used as aids in running. In the South American ostrich, or rhea, they are also large, but again useless for flight, for the “quill-feathers” are very weak, and have no “web,” such as one finds in the quills of flying birds. And besides, the muscles of the wing have degenerated, the breast-muscles having become reduced to mere vestiges.

In both the African and South American ostriches, the skeleton of the wing, compared with, that, say, of a swan, would seem, to the inexpert, to be quite normal. But with the cassowary, the emu, or the apteryx matters are very different. Here, at the first glance, it is apparent that the process of decay is far advanced; for the bones of the hand have, as it were, shrunk up, so that a mere stump is all that remains. The wing of the cassowary is further remarkable for the fact that some of the fore-arm quills, or “secondaries” are represented by long, stiff quills, resembling spines of a porcupine; the “vane” of the feather, which normally runs down each side of the shaft, has vanished altogether. What part they play in the bird’s life history it is impossible to say. They certainly cannot be used as weapons, and they as certainly are not “ornaments.” In the extinct moas the wing had stillfurther degenerated. In some species no more than a stump of the upper arm bone was left, and in others not only this, but even the shoulder-girdle had vanished, so that only one pair of limbs remained.

Another remarkable flightless bird is the penguin. Here the wing has changed its form to assume that of a paddle; superficially identical with that of the whale, or the turtle, or that of the extinct sea-dragon ichthyosaurus. These paddles have been “re-modelled,” so to speak, to enable them to be used for what we may call flight under water. Most birds which swim under water use the legs for propelling the body: but the penguin uses his paddles instead. The paddle of the turtle has similarly evolved out of a fore-leg used for walking on land. The common tortoise may be taken as the type of this leg. In the river, and pond-tortoises, the stumpy foot of the land-tortoise gives place to a broad, webbed foot. In the turtles this webbed foot gives place to the paddle.

After what has been said about the penguin it is instructive to turn to the wings of the auk-tribe—the guillemot, razor-bill, and puffin. These are very efficient for normal flight, but they are equally efficient for use under water. For these birds swim as penguins do, when submerged. Why then, did the penguin suffer the loss of the use of his wings for flight?

Back to Index Next