Part 19

THE CRESTED TIT PARUS CRISTÁTUS

Feathers of the crown elongated and capable of being erected, black, edged with white; cheeks and sides of the neck white; throat, collar, and a streak across the temples black; all the other upper parts reddish brown; lower parts white, faintly tinged with red. Length four inches and three-quarters. Eggs white spotted with blood-red.

'The Crested Tit', is a solitary retired species, inhabiting only gloomy forests, particularly those which abound with evergreens. On the European Continent it is found in Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Switzerland, and some parts of France. In the large pine tracts in the north of Scotland, it is said to be not uncommon, and it used to be found also in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, but has been seldom observed in England. Its food consists of insects, berries of the juniper, and seeds of evergreens. It builds its nest in hollow trees, or in the deserted nests of squirrels and crows, and lays as many as eight eggs.

FAMILY PANURIDÆ

THE BEARDED TITMOUSE OR REEDLING PANÚRUS BIÁRMICUS

Head bluish grey; between the bill and eye a tuft of pendant black feathers prolonged into a pointed moustache; throat and neck greyish white; breast and abdomen white, tinged with yellow and pink; upper parts light orange-brown; wings variegated with white, black, and red; tail long, orange-brown, the outer feathers variegated with white and black. In the female the moustache is of the same colour as the cheek, and the grey on the head is absent. Length six inches. Eggs white, with a few wavy lines of dark red.

This pretty bird is of very local occurrence, being found in considerable numbers in several marshy districts where reeds abound, but in others being totally unknown. Their habits resemble those of the true Tits, but instead of spending their lives in trees, they confine themselves to the marshes, and are constantly employed in running up and down the stems of the reeds, hunting for their food, which consists of small molluscs (or water-snails) and the seeds of the reeds. Like the Tits, too, they are sociable, always being observed in pairs or families; not congregating like Sparrows for the sake of mutual protection, but seemingly from the pure love of each other's company. A writer in the Magazine of Natural History gives the following account of their habits:--'I was told that some of these birds had been seen in a large piece of reeds below Barking Creek; and being desirous of observing them in their haunts, I went, accompanied by a person and a dog, to the above-named place, on a cold and windy morning; the reed-cutters having commenced their operations, I was fearful of deferring my visit, lest my game might be driven away. Arrived on our ground, we traversed it some time without success, and were about to leave it, when our attention was roused by the alarm-cry of the bird. Looking up, we saw eight or ten of these beautiful creatures on the wing, just topping the reeds over our heads, uttering, in full chorus, their forcibly musical note, which resembles the monosyllable ping! pronounced first slow and single, then two or three times in a more hurried manner, uttered in a clear and ringing, though soft tone, which well corresponds with the beauty and delicacy of the bird. Their flights were short and low, only sufficient to clear the reeds, on the seedy tops of which they alight to feed, hanging, like most of their tribe, with the head and back downwards. After some time, we were fortunate enough to shoot one, a male, in fine plumage. I held it in my hand when scarcely dead. Nothing could exceed the beauty of the eye; the bright orange of the iris, surrounded by the deep glossy black of the moustaches and streak above, receives additional brilliancy from the contrast, and struck me as a masterpiece of colour and neatness.' These specimens were observed in the month of December. Towards the end of April the Bearded Tit begins building its nest. This is composed externally of the dead leaves of reeds and sedges, and lined with the feathery tops of reed. It is generally placed in a tuft of coarse grass or rushes near the ground on the margin of the dikes, in the fen; sometimes among the reeds that are broken down, but never suspended between the stems. Two nests, described by Yarrell, were composed entirely of dried bents, the finer ones forming the lining; and others, increasing in substance, made up the exterior. The eggs were from seven to eight in number, rather smaller than those of the Great Tit, and less pointed, white, and sparingly marked with pale red lines or scratches. The same author observes that 'it is very abundant in Holland; and numbers are brought alive from that country to the London markets for sale; the birds being attractive in confinement from the beauty of the plumage, their graceful form and general sprightliness.' I have seen it stated that the moustaches, from which the bird takes its name, are movable, and that their play gives a peculiar animation to the expression of the bird's face, but I have never had an opportunity of verifying this remark. They have been increasing in the Norfolk Broads of late years.

FAMILY SITTIDÆ

THE NUTHATCH SITTA CÆSIA

Upper plumage bluish grey; a black streak across the eye; cheeks and throat white; under plumage dull orange red; outer tail-feathers black, with a white spot near the end, tipped with grey, the two central ones grey; beak bluish black, the lower mandible white at the base; feet light brown. Length six inches. Eggs white, spotted with two shades of purplish red.

Standing, one winter's day, by the side of a pond, near a row of tall elms, and watching some boys sliding, I heard the few short twittering notes of a Nuthatch overhead, and it at once occurred to me how I should describe the note in such a way that it should be infallibly recognized. It is precisely like the sound made by a pebble thrown so as to bound along ice. This is the winter note. On fine sunny days in February it begins to add to its simple call a more musical sound, approaching a whistle. Further on in the season, the twitter is heard no more, and is exchanged altogether for a not unmelodious whistle, several times repeated, rarely protracted into a bubbling sound, such as it might be supposed to make if it were rattling a pea in its throat. On these occasions it is usually perched in the branches of a tree, and may be distinguished by its bluish grey back, dull red breast, and short tail. The Nuthatch is not an accomplished musician, and claims, therefore, to be pointed out by other characteristics. This is no difficult task to undertake; for no British bird is more decidedly marked in its habits. In the first place, it has strong clasping claws, which admirably adapt it for climbing; and though it does not possess the rigid tail of the Woodpeckers to aid it in this operation, it has a short tail which never comes in the way. In most counties of England where old timber is (except the extreme western and northern, where it is rare) any one walking through a woodland district and keeping a sharp look-out may observe a bluish bird, somewhat larger than a Sparrow, creeping by starts up the trunk of any rough barked tree. It is so intent on its occupation--that of searching for insects in the crevices of the bark--that it takes no notice of the observer, but pursues its course after a method of its own, but according to no rule that we can detect. Now it disappears on one side of the trunk and then shows itself a few inches higher on the other; now it is lost to sight for a longer interval--one would think it was hiding, or had taken its departure--but no, there it is again, creeping, back downwards, along a horizontal branch; arrived at the extremity it utters a double twitter, perhaps, and flies either to a new tree or to another branch of the same. This time it creeps from the extremity of a branch towards the hole of the tree, equally at ease whatever may chance to be its position, and no more affected by gravity than a fly. Arrived at the main stem it keeps on its course, still advancing by starts, and accompanying every movement, as, indeed, it has been doing all along, by an almost imperceptible twinkling of its wings, something like that which has gained for the Hedge Sparrow the sobriquet of 'Shuffle-wing'. That no other bird but the Nuthatch has the power of creeping down a tree I cannot say, for I once observed a Tree-creeper descend for a few inches but no other British bird does habitually hunt after this method; by this habit consequently it may be discriminated. Equally comfortable in all positions, if it has any choice, or desires to rest, it clings to the upright trunk of a tree, head downwards.

The Nuthatch is singular, too, in its mode of nidification. The only nest which I have thoroughly examined was built in the hollow of an apple-tree, and was composed entirely of scraps of birch-bark. The Naturalist contains a description of one made of beech-bark, though probably here, too, birch is meant; others are described as being made of dry leaves and moss: but, whatever the materials may be, the nest itself is invariably placed in the hole of a tree. There are good reasons for believing that in case of necessity the bird enlarges the cavity to make its dwelling sufficiently commodious, chips of wood having been sometimes found in the vicinity; but what makes the Nuthatch singular among British birds is, that it not only enacts the carpenter when occasion arises, but adds the vocation of plasterer.

In the case above alluded to I do not know that its powers were called out in either of these capacities. As a plasterer it had no occasion to work, for the opening to the hole was so small that it required to be cut away in order to admit a boy's hand, but many instances are recorded when it selected a hole with a large orifice which is contracted by lining it with a thick coat of mud and gravel. This parapet, constructed either to keep out bulky intruders or to keep in the young birds, if injured or destroyed will be found restored after a short lapse of time; and so devoted a mother is the hen bird that she will suffer herself to be taken rather than desert her brood. I have rarely noticed a Nuthatch on the ground during winter, but in spring and summer it adds to its diet terrestrial insects and worms and is said also to be partial to red currants--not a singular taste. But the fruit which has an especial charm for the Nuthatch is that from which it derives its name. Its keen eye detects the ripening filbert in the garden or orchard before the hazels in the wood are beginning to turn brown, and it then despises less dainty food. One by one the clusters are pecked open and their contents purloined, carried, perhaps, to some convenient storehouse for future banquetings. At any rate the owner of filbert trees where these birds abound has need to keep a daily watch, or his share in the produce will prove exceedingly small. I have seen trees bearing a fine crop of husks but nearly all empty. The proprietor had suffered them to remain till they were ripe, the Nuthatches had taken a different view of the case and preferred them unripe rather than not at all. But what, it may be asked, can a bird little larger than a Sparrow find to do with a filbert, or even a hazel-nut? Here we have a fresh distinctive feature in the biography of the Nuthatch. The bird carries off its prey in its beak, and when in want of a meal wedges the nut in the crevice of some rough-barked tree, such as an oak, an elm, or a walnut. This done, he takes his stand, head downwards, above the nut, throws back his head to gather force for a blow, and then brings it violently forwards many times in rapid succession, aided, too, by the weight of his body and a clapping of the wings in exact time with each stroke. By dint of repeated blows thus dealt by his strong beak, even the hard shell of a filbert at last gives way; a small hole is the result, which is soon enlarged, and the kernel becomes the hardly-earned prize. Any one who will take the trouble to examine the trunks of old oaks and elms will be sure to find shells still remaining wedged into the bark, and if during a ramble in the woods in autumn or winter, or even in early spring, he should happen to hear a smart tapping, let him follow the direction of the sound, and he will stand a fair chance of discovering the clever little nutcracker at work. If in the course of his operations the bird happens to dislodge a nut, so nimble is he that before it reaches the ground he will have caught it in his beak. Acorns and the nuts of yew-berries, and probably other hard seeds, are similarly treated by the Nuthatch; cherrystones, I suspect, are beyond his powers, yielding only to the massive beak of the Hawfinch. The Nuthatch may easily be induced to visit gardens by wedging hazel or Spanish nuts into the bark of trees; a walnut fastened on by a pin is equally effectual. But no more enticing bait can be set than a lump of fat meat, which should be tied tightly by a string to the horizontal branch of an apple-tree or any other tree, a good view of which can be commanded from the house. If the weather be severe and the ground covered with snow, it is surprising what a variety of birds will come to partake of the unknown food. Robins, Sparrows, Tits of several kinds, Chaffinches, and others flock for a share, not without sundry bickerings, alarms, and semblances of fighting. But should a Nuthatch happen to appear, all retire until his highness is satisfied. He enters upon the scene in a way of his own. Other birds alight on a bough or twig at some little distance from the banquet and make gradual advances. Not so the Nuthatch; he darts forward in a horizontal line, as if propelled by a missile, sticks by his claws to whatever part of the branch he happens to touch, not caring in what attitude he alights, stops for a second as if to assure himself in what direction his head is pointing, creeps nimbly round to the morsel, takes his stand on it and hammers away until he has separated a large lump. This he then seizes in his beak and retires to a place of seclusion, leaving the inferior animals to squabble to their hearts' content over the crumbs which he has dislodged, and presently he discomfits them again by a reappearance. What his powers as a combatant may be I cannot say; great, it may be supposed, for no one is inclined to do him battle, and he is not sociably disposed even towards those of his own kind.

From the French hacher, 'to chop'; hence also 'hatchet'.

Tree Creeper Nuthatch

Bearded Reedling Wren

Rose coloured Starling Dipper

Starling Golden Oriole ]

FAMILY CERTHIIDÆ

THE TREE CREEPER CERTHIA FAMILIÁRIS

Upper plumage mottled with yellowish brown, dark brown, and white; a pale streak over the eyes; throat and breast buff-white, becoming dusky towards the tail; wings brown tipped with white and barred with white brown, and dull yellow; tail-feathers reddish brown, stiff and pointed. Length five inches, breadth seven inches. Eggs white, with small yellowish red spots.

The Tree Creeper, though a common bird, is less familiarly known than many others of much rarer occurrence, yet, if once observed, can be confounded with no other. In size it ranks with the Tits, Willow Wren, etc., but is less likely to attract notice than any of these, as it never alights on the ground, nor perches on the small twig of a tree. Its note, too, is weak, simple, and unpretending, amounting to no more than an occasional 'cheep', which it utters from time to time while hunting for food, and while performing its short flights. Any one, however, who wishes to see the bird, and knows what to search for, can scarcely fail of success if he looks well about him during a stroll through almost any wood of full-grown trees. Half-way up the trunk of a rugged elm or oak he will observe a small portion of bark, as it were, in motion; the motion, and not the colour, betrays the presence of a small brown bird, which is working its way by a succession of irregular starts up the trunk. Frequently it stops for a few seconds, and is evidently pecking at some small insect, quite noiselessly however. Its beak is not adapted for hammering; it confines its attention therefore to such insects as live on the surface of the bark. It utters a low 'cheep', and proceeds, not in a straight line up the tree, but turning to the right or left according as it descries a probable lurking-place of its prey: presently it disappears on the other side of the trunk, and again comes in view a few feet higher up. Now it reaches a horizontal branch; along this it proceeds in like manner, being indifferent whether it clings sideways, or hangs with its back downwards. Arrived at the smaller subdivisions of the bough it ceases to hunt; but, without remaining an instant to rest, flies to the base of another bough, or more probably, to another tree, alighting a few feet only from the ground, and at once beginning a new ascent. This mode of life it never varies: from morning to night, in winter and in summer, it is always climbing up the boles of trees, and when it has reached the top, flying to the base of others. On one solitary occasion I observed one retrace its steps for a few inches, and stand for a second or two with its head downwards; but this is a most unusual position, as indeed may be inferred from the structure of its tail, the feathers of which are rigid, and more or less soiled by constant pressure against the bark. It frequently visits orchards and gardens in the country, displaying little fear of man, preferring perhaps to hunt on the far side of a tree when any one is looking on; but not very particular even about this, and certainly never thinking it necessary to decamp because it is being watched. To this indifference to the presence of human beings, it owes its name 'familiaris', and not, as it might be imagined, to any fondness for their society, which, in fact, it neither courts nor shuns. It is a quiet inoffensive creature, congregating with no other birds, and being rarely, except in spring, seen in company with even its own species. It builds its nest of small roots and twigs, scraps of bark and grass, and lines it with wool and feathers. A hole in a pollard willow is a favourite place for a nest; in default of this a hollow in any other tree is selected, or the space between the stump of a tree and a detached portion of bark; and it chooses the straw eaves of some shed. It lays from six to nine eggs, which are exceedingly like those of the smaller Tits.

FAMILY TROGLODYTIDÆ

THE WREN TRÓGLODYTES PÁRVULUS

Upper plumage reddish brown with transverse dusky bars; quills barred alternately with black and reddish brown; tail dusky, barred with black; over the eyes a narrow light streak; under parts light reddish brown; the sides and thighs marked with dark streaks. Length three inches and three-quarters; breadth six inches and a half. Eggs white with a few yellowish red spots towards the larger end, sometimes without spots.

Throughout the whole of England the Wren is invested with a sanctity peculiar to itself and the Redbreast. In the west of England I was familiar, as a child, with the doggerel rhymes:

Whoso kills a Robin or a Wran Shall never prosper boy nor man.

In the north it is protected by a similar shield: