Part 5

THE ROBIN Erithacus rubecula (Linnæus)

Of all our British birds, none perhaps has gained so complete a hold upon our imaginations, and the more sympathetic side of our nature, than our red-breasted friend. He is a welcome guest in every home in the kingdom, and in turn acknowledges the compliment by trusting us as do few of our native birds. It is in winter perhaps that we know him best; however cold and stormy the weather, he always appears happy, cheerful, and sprightly, as he hops along the garden path or seeks his breakfast at the dining-room window, returning thanks by a brilliant but short outburst of song from some neighbouring bush or wall.

He has only one fault, and that is extreme pugnacity--other birds (not excluding that great bully the Sparrow) live in awe of him and keep a respectful distance, but it is a different matter with those of his own kind who are always "spoiling for a fight." As soon as one has found a good point of vantage, or, if he be not too hungry, some dainty morsel, he will call out with a peculiar shrill single syllabled "tzsee," as much as to say, "I have found something good and dare you to take it." This challenge is almost sure to be taken up and swiftly repeated, not once but many times. The challenged one will slowly approach, there will be a short sharp fight, not much damage apparently being done to either combatant, and away will go the vanquished, while the victor, having eaten the "bone of dissension," fluffs out his feathers, reels off a few bars of his song, and then flies off to repeat the performance elsewhere. So the winter passes, till gradually, as spring comes round, and with it other birds, we are apt to forget our little winter friend, his memory being only kept alive by occasional glimpses of a red breast in the thicket or on the ivy covering the wall. The Robin who cheered us in the cold winter days, though we are perhaps unaware of the fact, has really gone, being engaged in bringing up his brood in some other part of the country, and his place has been taken by another from the south. There was probably a short interregnum, but we did not notice it, imagining probably that more abundant food had caused him to refuse the modest pittance of bread-crumbs that we were accustomed to put out daily for his especial benefit. The new-comer is certainly rather a shyer bird, at least we see less of him, but he is too busy to hang round the house; when he first comes he has to make sure of his footing, any rivals within call have to be disposed of, not in the half-hearted happy-go-lucky way that was good enough during the winter, but effectually disposed of once and for all. His next care is the choosing of a comfortable site for his nest; this is generally in some hole in a bank or wall, at no great height from the ground, and concealed with considerable care. The nest itself is chiefly composed of moss, with a lining of horsehair carefully felted together. The Robin is an early breeder, the nest being often completed by the end of February or early in March, but the eggs, usually six in number and of a pale reddish-buff colour, sometimes nearly white with red spots, are not, as a rule, laid till quite the end of March or beginning of April. As is customary in this family the incubation is carried on by the hen alone, while he roams about the vicinity, feeding her as opportunity offers, or sitting on some twig trilling forth his song. After the young are hatched he has but little time for singing, and has to work with a will to keep the six hungry youngsters satisfied, the hen also assisting him. When they leave the nest the young are clad in a uniformly mottled greyish-green plumage, which, however, is soon moulted, and they then become like their parents.

The first brood off their hands, the parents busy themselves with a second, and sometimes even with a third, and then towards the end of July they become restless, and both old and young are seen no more in their summer haunts. We shall not have long to wait however,--probably some casual wanderers will frequently be seen, here to-day and gone to-morrow, wandering about in an irresponsive manner as the spirit moves them--but as the leaves fall and the days shorten, these wanderings will cease, and we shall find a cheery robin at our windows day after day, a bright spot of vigorous life in the midst of the sleeping vegetation, till we lose him again in the following spring amid the bustle and rush of reawakening life.

The sexes are practically alike and have the upper parts olive brown; frontal band, lore, chin, throat, and upper breast reddish orange, bordered on the throat and breast with bluish grey; flanks brown; rest of under parts white. Length 5·75 in.; wing 3 in.

THE NIGHTINGALE Daulias luscinia (Linnæus)

The name of this bird is familiar to every one--ornithologist or otherwise. Poets have sung his praises for centuries, and not in vain, for there are few who do not in consequence feel a desire to hear this unsurpassed musician of the bird world. Like all good things, however, our songster does not overwhelm us with his melody. On his arrival in this country, about the third week in April, he bursts forth, pouring out his ecstasy in glorious and varied song. What a thrill it gives us as we listen on a warm spring evening to the liquid notes bubbling forth and resounding through the still air. He pauses for breath, and we can then hear in the distance the voice of another and yet another answering the song, the more distant warbling sounding as echoes of our own musician, till the whole country-side is full of exquisite melody. We retire, feeling in ourselves the magic of that "breath of spring" which has brought the ever-welcome wanderer to our shores once more. To attempt to describe that song in words would be impossible; loud and clear with full-toned deep liquid notes, now rising with impassioned fervour, and then, suddenly stopping, he recommences after a telling pause with a low plaintive cry. There is no mistaking it when heard; it is the trained voice breathing soul and fire with every note, compared with which the songs of our other birds, however bright and joyous, are like dismal pipings.

Soon after his arrival comes his mate, and then the song will be at its best and continue both day and night, till one wonders how and when he can sleep. Nest-building is begun almost immediately; a site is chosen on the ground in some thicket, and a delicate cup is formed of dead leaves loosely laid together with a lining of horse hair and other finer materials. The eggs are of a uniform dark olive green and are generally six in number. The hen alone sits, and when disturbed hops away silently from her nest, rendering it very difficult to be discovered. Small woods and coppices are the situations most popular with these birds, especially narrow strips of woodland bordering fields, to which they often make excursions in search of their food. This consists entirely of insects; spiders and flies forming the greater bulk, though no insect comes amiss. These are almost entirely sought for on the ground, and in fact he very seldom seeks the upper branches of the trees or bushes, preferring to remain hidden in their lower recesses.

As soon as the young are hatched the song ceases, and a harsh croak is the only sound emitted as he watches us passing near his nest. One brood only is reared, and then they seem to disappear from our "ken." Shy and silent birds, always keeping to the thick cover, they spend a few weeks quietly, feeding on the abundance of insects provided at this time of year, and then when the moult is over and they are strengthened for their journey, they leave us for their sunny winter home in Africa, while we remain behind to cherish, amidst gales and rain, the memories of those glad spring nights.

The plumage above is warm brown, passing to reddish brown on the tail and tail coverts; under parts greyish white, buffish on the flanks and breast. The young have light centres to the feathers of the upper parts and are indistinctly barred on the breast. Length 6·5 in.; wing 3·35 in.

In our islands this species has a very restricted range, being only known to the south-east of a line from the Humber to the Severn. In Shropshire and South Wales it is sometimes heard, and the same may be said of Devonshire, where, however, of late years a pair or two have nested annually.

(This species sometimes exceeds in size the Greater Nightingale or "Sprosser," which has been recorded from this country, but our bird may always be recognised by the larger bastard primary, which in the "Sprosser" is minute.)

THE WHITETHROAT Sylvia cinerea, Bechstein

Quiet and unobtrusive in his colouring, and like all his class retiring in his habits, this extremely common summer visitor is often hardly noticed. Early in April the Whitethroats begin to arrive, and from then to the end of the month populate our hedgerows in ever-increasing numbers. When he first comes he may be seen sitting on some outstanding twig or on the telegraph wires that border the road, trilling forth his short but pleasing song, which, like that of most warblers, is a mere medley of notes put together without any apparent order or meaning, though to our little brown friend himself it is doubtless pleasing, and it is indicative of the vigour and energy he feels with the prospect of the return of summer. Anon he will drop from his perch into the hedge, throwing up his tail as he does so, rather after the manner of a Blackbird, and will rapidly wend his way by means of short leaps from twig to twig, giving him apparently a creeping motion, whence his local name of "Nettle-creeper."

On the arrival of his mate a few days after himself, they set up housekeeping with little or no delay. The nest is a very delicate structure built low down in some bush, or in a clump of nettles on the outside of the hedge, it is composed of grass and bents lightly but strongly interwoven and lined with a few horsehairs, and though looking very fragile and thin, it serves its purpose well. The eggs, four to six in number, are of a yellowish-olive colour blotched and spotted, especially near the larger end, with purplish blue. The hen alone sits, while her mate warbles his song to relieve her tedium, or searches for insects and flies, which he continually brings her. The young are hatched in about eleven days, and in another fortnight are hopping about accompanied by their parents, who still tend them for a short time, till the cares of another family engross their attention. For the rest of the summer these birds may be found in small parties in woods, fields, furze, commons, or hedgerows, wherever cover is to be obtained, feeding on caterpillars, flies, and insects, of which there is an abundance at that time of year. In July and August they renew their worn plumage and become extremely fat, and then when the September equinox warns them that the best of the summer is past, they go southwards to the shores of the Mediterranean and to Africa, there to pass the winter till returning spring once more prompts them to risk the perils of the journey and to revisit their summer home.

The male has the head and neck dark grey, mantle and wings brown with broad rufous edges to the secondaries. Tail feathers brown, except the outer pair that are white and the next pair that are tipped with white. Under parts white, fading to pale vinous on the breast and flanks. The female is duller and has the head brown; the young are rather more tawny. Length 5·5 in.; wing 2·8 in.

This bird is common throughout the United Kingdom except the extreme North of Scotland.

THE LESSER WHITETHROAT Sylvia curruca (Linnæus)

The Lesser Whitethroat arrives a little later than the preceding species, namely about the end of April, and at once disperses throughout our woods and coppices and sets to work nest-building. The nest is still more fragile than the Whitethroat's and lacks the lining of horsehair. It is generally placed moderately high up, about four or six feet from the ground, in a bush or hedge bordering a coppice. The eggs, four to six, are of a light cream ground colour, with a zone of dark spots round the larger end. The hen sits very closely and does not leave her eggs unless almost touched; she does not then fly, but hops quietly away into the undergrowth, where she remains motionless till the danger, real or imaginary, has gone. The young when fledged resemble their parents, and two broods are as a rule reared. Its song is a monotonous "Sip, sip, sip," repeated again and again.

Although by no means scarce, it is seldom seen unless specially searched for, most of its time being spent quietly hopping about the undergrowth searching for food, which consists almost entirely of minute insects, small caterpillars, etc. etc. It is never seen in flocks, even when migrating, a few family parties in autumn being the most that are ever noticed together.

This bird has no distinctive plumage, and except for its note is very difficult to identify. The crown is smoke grey, cheeks and rest of the upper parts brownish grey, the outer feathers of the tail having white outer webs. Under parts whitish, becoming buff on the flanks. Bill black; legs slate colour. Length 5·25 in.; wing 2·6 in. The female and young are rather duller in colour.

In our southern, eastern, and midland counties it is a fairly abundant summer visitor; in the West and North of England and South of Scotland it is decidedly rare, and over the rest of our islands it is a very irregular straggler and has only once occurred in Ireland.

THE ORPHÆN WARBLER Sylvia orphea, Temminck

This species nests abundantly in Spain and more sparingly in the South of France, but has been taken in this country on at least two occasions, on both of which the evidence pointed to its breeding or having bred with us. The eggs, except in size, are much like those of the Lesser Whitethroat.

The bird itself much resembles a Blackcap, but the throat and breast are white and the three outer pairs of tail feathers show some white. The female is rather duller and browner. Length 6 in.; wing 3·1 in.

THE SARDINIAN WARBLER Sylvia melanocephala, Gmelin

This small species, which is not unlike the Blackcap in general appearance, has a comparatively restricted distribution, being practically confined to the Mediterranean basin. The only British specimen that has hitherto been obtained was shot on June 3, 1907, in Sussex.

General colour of upper parts dark grey, except the head, which is black. Lower parts white, greyish on the flanks. Length 5·5 in.; wing 2·5 in.