Part 79

The grebe makes a large platform nest of aquatic plants, placed on the water among the reeds. Four eggs are laid, the shell pale blue in colour, but covered with a soft, white, chalky substance. Invariably, when leaving the nest the bird covers the eggs with moss and weeds, and the usual inference is that this is done to hide them from rapacious egg-eating birds; but Seebohm is of the opinion that the eggs are covered to be kept warm, and he says that they are covered only after the full complement is laid and incubation begun.

Little Grebe, or Dabchick.

Tachybaptes fluviatilis.

Head, neck, and upper parts dark brown; a little white on the secondaries; chin black; cheeks, throat, and sides of the neck reddish chestnut; under parts greyish white; flanks dusky brown; bill horn-colour; legs and feet dull green. Length, nine inches and a half.

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The little grebe, or dabchick, is less than the teal in size, and differs from the great crested grebe in about the same degree as the partridge does from the pheasant. It is the one common and well-known species of grebe in this country, being resident in suitable localities in all parts of the United Kingdom. In summer it is generally diffused, and is to be met with even on small pools and streams; in winter it shifts its ground, resorting to the rivers and larger bodies of water, and in very severe weather to the sea-coast.

It begins to breed at the end of April or early in May, and forms a floating nest of aquatic weeds and grasses close to the bank or among the reeds, but in most cases little care is taken to conceal the nest. The eggs are three or four to six in number, and are white, and rough in texture. Before quitting the nest the incubating bird invariably covers the eggs with wet leaves and grass, drawn in from the edge of the nest. It is hard to believe, with Seebohm, that the object of this action is to keep the eggs warm. The nest is, in very many cases, conspicuous to the eye, but on the slightest alarm the sitting-bird quickly and deftly draws the dead, wet materials like a blanket over the eggs, and, slipping off, dives silently, to come up at a considerable distance, usually where it cannot be seen. The nest then presents the appearance of a mere bunch of dead and water-soaked weeds or grass floating on the surface. I have examined a good many nests, and am convinced that the eggs are covered to hide them from the sight of egg-robbing animals, and that only the egg-robber that is neither furred nor feathered, and is well acquainted with the habits of the bird, is capable of seeing through this pretty deception.

The dabchick has the curious habit of holding its young under its wings and diving from the nest, to take them out of danger. Like its neighbour, the moorhen, the little grebe sometimes begins to breed a second time, before the young of the first brood are able to take proper care of themselves; and it has been observed in such cases that while one of the parents incubated the eggs in the new nest, the other has remained in charge of the partly grown young. The nest is used by the young birds after they are able to swim and dive, and while resting on it their parents bring them food.

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The three remaining species of the grebe family (Podicipidæ) included in the avifauna of the United Kingdom are the red-necked grebe (Podiceps griseigena), a rare winter visitor to the British coasts; the Sclavonian grebe (P. auritus), a not uncommon winter visitor to Scotland, Ireland, and the north and east coasts of England; and the eared grebe (P. nigrocollis), an irregular visitor, usually in spring, to the southern and eastern districts of England.

Razorbill.

Alca torda.

Upper parts greenish black; deep brown on the throat; under parts white. Length, seventeen inches.

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The black and white razorbill, with curiously shaped massive beak, viewed sitting on a rock, its body inclined a little forward, may give us some idea of the great auk’s appearance. It is less than half the size of the vanished bird, but is its nearest living representative. Throughout the year the razorbill is not an uncommon species in the seas that surround the British Islands, but is very much less abundant than the common guillemot, which it most nearly resembles in its habits. That it will become still less common than it is at present is greatly to be feared. For some time past it has been decreasing in numbers on all our coasts, from what cause is not accurately known. On this subject Howard Saunders writes: ‘This may partly be owing to severe visitations of mortality which have from time to time affected many sea-birds, but especially the present species.’ Whether killed by an epidemic to which they are liable, or starved to death, as some naturalists think, it is certain that they perish in large numbers. On the south coast I have seen their dead bodies, washed up by the waves during a severe gale, lying in hundreds on the beach; and the same distressing spectacle has been witnessed by others at various points on the coast.

The razorbill is a handsome species, with shiny white under-plumage, the black upper parts relieved by a stripe of pure white on the head and a narrow white bar across the wing. The black, axe-like beak is also crossed in its deepest part with a white mark in the form of a crescent. Its life is mostly passed in the water, where it sits high and floats buoyantly like a duck. It feeds chiefly on small fishes, for which it dives, and when pursuing them uses the wings as well as feet in propulsion. On the sea the razorbills are usually seen in small flocks; they fly like diving ducks, with rapidly-beating wings, in a line, one bird behind the other, and so close as to be almost touching. In March they resort to the bold headlands and precipitous rocky cliffs which are their breeding-places. They are then seen associating with guillemots and puffins; for, albeit these three auks differ in appearance and breeding-habits, they seem to be aware of their relationship, and mix together in a friendly way. It may, however, be noticed that on a ledge where many guillemots and a few razorbills are assembled, as a rule the latter form a little group by themselves. This species is somewhat silent, although they occasionally utter long cries, somewhat gull-like in character, but lower and more guttural. When disturbed they emit a different sound, peculiar and human-like in tone, resembling the low moans of a person in pain.

A single egg is laid by the razorbill, and is placed in a cranny, sometimes in a hole several feet deep; occasionally the egg is deposited in a hollow on a rocky ledge, and in such situations razorbills and guillemots are found breeding side by side. The egg is large and handsome, the ground-colour white, spotted and blotched with different shades of blackish and deep reddish brown, and sometimes chocolate-colour. Both birds take part in incubating. An observer who has studied the habits of this bird says that in most cases the young fly down to the sea, usually early in the morning, and being once there, do not return to the rocks, as their wings are not then strong enough to enable them to mount upwards. ‘Sometimes,’ he writes, ‘when the young one is obstinate, the mother will take it by the back of the neck, and fly down to the sea.’ (Zoologist, 1871, p. 2427.) He adds that the parent teaches the young bird to dive by taking it by the neck and diving with it.

The breeding season over, the birds do not return to the rocks until the next spring.

Common Guillemot.

Lomvia troile.

Head, neck, and upper parts blackish brown; under parts white. Length, eighteen inches.

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The common guillemot is the most abundant of the four species of auks which inhabit the British Islands. Less handsome and striking in appearance than the razorbill, in its habits it is just as interesting. It is found in the breeding season on all parts of our coasts where extensive rocky cliffs and headlands exist, and it has not been driven away by persecution. At some points on the coast, as at Bempton Cliffs and Flamborough Head, and at the Farne Islands, and other localities farther north, the guillemots are still exceedingly numerous; south of Yorkshire they have greatly diminished in numbers, and several of the old breeding-stations have been abandoned.

On the sea their habits are similar to those of the razorbill: they swim, dive, and fly in strings in the same manner. In appearance the two species differ considerably. The guillemot has a dusky brown or mouse-coloured upper plumage, and a straight, sharp beak, very different to the massive weapon of the razorbill.

Early in spring the guillemots begin to gather from the neighbouring seas at their old breeding-stations on the summits and sides of cliffs that face the ocean. Of all birds that breed in communities, they are the most social, or, at all events, crowd closest together. Where they breed on the side of the cliff, as at Flamborough, they may be seen standing in close rows and groups on every ledge or jutting rock large enough to afford them a footing. A strange and fascinating spectacle is presented when the cliff is looked at from below, and the guillemots are seen in thousands, row above row, lessening in size by distance until, near the summit of the vast precipice, they appear no bigger than dippers; all standing erect, their backs to the dark stone wall, and their shiny, white breasts to the sea. It is also strange to see them gathered on the flat, table-like tops of the ‘Pinnacles,’ a group of isolated, precipitous rocks at the Farnes; for here the space they have is not sufficient to properly accommodate the vast number of birds that resort to it. Their appearance forcibly reminds the spectator of a human crowd on some fête day in a populous city; but the bird-crowd does not move or sway: each guillemot keeps its place, for it is standing over its own egg, which must be kept warm at any cost. In spite of this fixity they are all very alert and lively, turning their beaks about this way and that, and, when alarmed, all bobbing and bowing their heads as if to salute the intruder. Although silent birds when on the sea, the guillemots become loquacious at their breeding-grounds. They are very excitable, and when two or three neighbours quarrel, as they frequently do, or a bird returned from the sea drops on to a ledge where others are standing, or when male and female meet again after a separation of a few hours, there is a great deal of noise. They utter a hoarse, long-drawn cry, like the beginning of a dog’s howl before he has cleared his voice; also a succession of laughter-like notes, and other sounds resembling the cries, guttural and clear, of the black-headed gull; and, sometimes, short, barking notes like those of geese and sheldrakes.

Like most short-winged, heavy-bodied birds, they fly straight to their point, rushing violently through the air with rapidly-beating wings. It is amusing to watch a bird flying in from the sea, and attempting to alight on a ledge of rock already crowded; one or two birds at the spot the new-comer attempts to drop on threaten to strike with their beaks. This demonstration prevents him from coming down among them; and, being incapable of gliding off to one side to drop on to some other spot, or of suspending himself in the air for a few moments, he is compelled to drop down without touching the ledge, sweep round, and go straight out to sea again, and after flying a distance of three or four hundred yards, or farther, to circle round and come back to the ledge a second time. The frustrated bird is often seen to fly right away out of sight.

The single egg of the guillemot is deposited on the naked rock, without any nest, often dangerously near the edge. The sitting-birds are very careful when leaving the rock to push the eggs from under them; but when suddenly startled, as by the report of a gun fired from a ship or boat for the amusement of cockney excursionists, the eggs may be thrown off the ledge, and in some instances have been seen to fall in a shower down the cliff-side. The guillemot lays a handsome pear-shaped egg, very large for the bird. No other bird lays eggs so various in colour; so greatly do they vary that two eggs cannot be found quite alike, even among hundreds. The ground-colour in different specimens is white, cream, stone-colour, pale blue, reddish, and many shades of green, from a strong, bright green to olive-green. The egg is spotted and blotched with brown, black, and deep red, and grey. The guillemot when incubating does not lie on its egg like most birds, but stands with the egg between its legs, which are placed very far back, as in all auks, divers, and grebes. It is a pretty and amusing sight to watch the guillemot, when returning to her egg after a short absence, walk on to it, and adjust and readjust it a score of times, using her beak and chin for the purpose, before she is satisfied that it is effectually covered. Incubation lasts a month, and only one young bird is reared in the season; if the first egg is taken she will lay a second, and sometimes a third.

In strange contrast to the guttural croaking and barking cries of the adults is the language of the young bird. Its hunger-note is a far-reaching, sandpiper-like cry, clear, tremulous, and musical. In imitation of this sound the young bird is called a willock; and it is supposed that the name of guillemot, which is of French origin, is also derived from the young bird’s cry.