Part 21

The flight of the Snowy Owl is stronger and swifter than any other bird of the family; its ears are very large; its voice (says Pennant) adds horror even to the regions of Greenland by its hideous cries, resembling those of a man in deep distress. The eye is very curious, being immovably fixed in its socket, so that the bird, to view different objects, must always turn its head; and so excellently is the neck adapted to this purpose, that it can with ease turn the head round in almost a complete circle, without moving the body. The Virginian Eagle-Owl, amidst the forests of Indiana, utters a loud and sudden Wough O! wough O! sufficient to alarm a whole garrison; another of its nocturnal cries resembles the half-suppressed screams of a person being suffocated or throttled.

The Javanese Owl is found in the closest forests, and occasionally near villages and dwellings. Dr. Horsfield says:--"It is not, however, a favourite with the natives; various superstitious notions are also in Java associated with its visits; and it is considered in many parts of the island as portending evil." One of this species never visits the villages, but resides in the dense forests, which are the usual resort of the tiger. The natives even assert that the Wowo-wiwi approaches the animal with the same familiarity with which the jallack approaches the buffalo, and that it has no dread to alight on the tiger's back. Dr. Horsfield adds, that it has never been seen in confinement.

The Boobook Owl has the native name of Buck-buck, and it may be heard in Australia every night during winter, uttering a cry corresponding with that word. The note is somewhat similar to that of the European Cuckoo, and the colonists have given it that name. The lower order of settlers in New South Wales are led away by the idea that everything is the reverse in that country to what it is in England; and the Cuckoo, as they call this bird, singing by night, is one of the instances which they point out.

Tame Owls are described as nearly as playful, and quite as affectionate, as kittens; they will perch upon your wrist, touch your lips with their beak, and hoot to order; and they are less inclined to leave their friends than other tame birds. A writer in "Chambers's Journal" relates, that a friend lost his favourite Owl, which flew away, and was absent many days. In time, however, he came back, and resumed his habits and duties, which, for a while, went on uninterruptedly. At length, one severe autumn, he disappeared; weeks, months passed, and he returned not. One snowy night, however, as his master sat by the blazing fire, some heavy thing came bump against the shutters. "Whoo, whoo, whoo." The window was opened, and in flew the Owl, shaking the thick snow from his wings, and settling lovingly on his master's wrist, the bird's eyes dilating with delight.

The Owls at Arundel Castle have a sort of historic interest; they are kept within the circuit of the keep-tower, the most ancient and picturesque portion of the castle. Among the Australian Owls here we read of one larger than a turkey, measuring four feet across the wings when expanded. The Owl named "Lord Thurlow," from his resemblance to that Judge, is a striking specimen.

The accompanying illustration shows a fine specimen of Fraser's Eagle-Owl, brought from Fernando Po. It is the size of an ordinary fowl; colour, very dark reddish-brown mottling; back and wings passing through all shades of the same colour into nearly white on the under parts, where the feathers are barred; bill, pale greenish; eyes, nearly black.

Among the Owls but recently described is the Masked Owl of New Holland, named from the markings of the disk of the face, somewhat grotesque; the colours are brown variegated with white. A fine specimen of the Abyssinian Owl is possessed by Mr. R. Good, of Yeovil: the bird, although quite young, is of immense size.

Lastly, the Owl is thought to be of the same sympathy or kindred likings as the Cat: a young Owl will feed well, and thrive upon fish. Cats, too, it is well known, like fish. Both the Cat and the Owl, too, feed upon mice. The sight of Owls, also, similar to that of Cats, appears to serve them best in the dark.

WEATHER-WISE ANIMALS.

Whatever may be the worth of weather prognostications, it is from the animal kingdom that we obtain the majority. How these creatures become so acutely sensible of the approach of particular kinds of weather is not at present well understood. That in many cases the appearance of the heavens is not the source from which their information is derived is proved by the signs of uneasiness frequently expressed by them when, as yet, the most attentive observer can detect no signs of change, and even when they are placed in such circumstances as preclude the possibility of any instruction from this quarter. For instance. Dogs, closely confined in a room, often become very drowsy and stupid before rain; and a leech, confined in a glass of water, has been found, by its rapid motions or its quiescence, to indicate the approach of wet or the return of fair weather. Probably the altered condition of the atmosphere with regard to its electricity, which generally accompanies change of weather, may so affect their constitution as to excite in them pleasurable or uneasy sensations; though man is far from insensible to atmospheric changes, as the feelings of utter listlessness which many persons experience before rain, and the aggravated severity of toothache, headache, and rheumatism abundantly testify. The Cat licking itself is a special influence of the above electric influence, which denotes the approach of rain.

Birds, as "denizens of the air," are the surest indicators of weather changes. Thus, when swallows fly high, fine weather is to be expected or continued; but when they fly low, or close to the ground, rain is almost surely approaching; for swallows follow the flies and gnats, which delight in warm strata of air. Now, as warm air is lighter, and usually moister than cold air, when the warm strata of air are high there is less chance of moisture being thrown down from them by their mixture with cold air; but when the warm and moist air is close to the surface, it is almost certain that, as the cold air flows down into it, a deposition of water will take place.

When Seagulls assemble on the land, very stormy and rainy weather is approaching. The cause of this migration to the land is the security of these birds finding food; and they may be observed at this time feeding greedily on the earth-worms and larvæ driven out of the ground by severe floods; whilst the fish on which they prey in fine weather in the sea, leave the surface, and go deeper in storms. The search after food is the principal cause why animals change their places. The different tribes of the wading birds always migrate when rain is about to take place.

There is a bird which takes its name from its apparent agency in tempests. Such is the Stormy Petrel, which name Hawkesworth, in his "Voyages," mentions the sailors give to the bird, but explains no further. Navigators meet with the Little Petrel, or Storm Finch, in every part of the ocean, diving, running on foot, or skimming over the highest waves. It seems to foresee the coming storm long ere the seamen can discover any signs of its approach. The Petrels make this known by congregating together under the wake of the vessel, as if to shelter themselves, and they thus warn the mariner of the coming danger. At night they set up a piercing cry. This usefulness of the bird to the sailor is the obvious cause of the latter having such an objection to their being killed.

Mr. Knapp, the naturalist, thus pictures gulls, describing the Petrel's action:--"They seem to repose in a common breeze, but upon the approach or during the continuation of a gale, they surround the ship, and catch up the small animals which the agitated ocean brings near the surface, or any food that may be dropped from the vessel. Whisking like an arrow through the deep valleys of the abyss, and darting away over the foaming crest of some mountain-wave, they attend the labouring barque in all her perilous course. When the storm subsides they retire to rest, and are seen no more."

Our sailors have, from very early times, called these birds "Mother Carey's Chickens," originally bestowed on them, Mr. Yarrell tells us, by Captain Cartaret's sailors, probably from some celebrated ideal hag of the above name. Mr. Yarrell adds:--"As these birds are supposed to be seen only before stormy weather, they are not welcome visitors," a view at variance with that already suggested.

The Editor of "Notes and Queries" considers the Petrels to have been called chickens from their diminutive size. The largest sort, "the Giant Petrel," is "Mother Carey's Goose;" its length is forty inches, and it expands seven feet. The common kind are about the size of a swallow, and weigh something over an ounce; length, six inches; expansion, thirteen inches; these are Mother Carey's chickens (Latham). It should be borne in mind that our language does not restrict the term chickens to young birds of the gallinaceous class.

The Missel-bird is another bird of this kind: in Hampshire and Sussex it is called the Storm Cock, because it sings early in the spring, in blowing, showery weather.

Petrels, by the way, are used by the inhabitants of the Faroe Islands as lamps: they pass a wick through their bodies which, when lighted, burns a long time from the quantity of fat they contain.

The Fulmar Petrel, in Boothia, follows the whale-ships, availing itself of the labours of the fishermen by feeding on the carcases of the whales when stripped of their blubber. In return the bird is exceedingly useful to the whalers by guiding them to the places where whales are most numerous, and crowding to the spots where they first appear on the surface of the water.

Wild Geese and Ducks are unquestionably weather-wise, for their early arrival from the north in the winter portends that a severe season is approaching; because their early appearance is most likely caused by severe frost having already set in at their usual summer residence. The Rev. F. O. Morris, the well-known writer on natural history, records from Nunburnholme, Yorkshire. December 5, 1864:--"This season, for the first time I have lived here, I have missed seeing the flocks of Wild Geese which in the autumnal months have heretofore wended their way overhead, year after year, as regularly as the dusk of the evening came on. Almost to the minute, and almost in the same exact course, they have flown over aloft from the feeding-places on the Wolds to their resting-places for the night; some, perhaps, to extensive commons, while others have turned off to the mud-banks of the Humber, whence they have returned with equal regularity in the morning.

"But this year I have seen not only not a single flock, but not even a single bird. One evening one of my daughters did indeed see a small flock of six, but even that small number only once. Whether it portends a very hard winter, or what the cause of it may be, I am utterly at a loss to know or even to guess. I quite miss this year the well-known cackle of the old gander as he has led the van of the flock that has followed him; now in a wide, now in a narrow, now in a short, now in a long wedge, over head, diverging just from the father of the family, or separating from time to time further back in the line.

"I may add, as a possible prognostication of future weather, that fieldfares have, I think, been unusually numerous this year, as last year they were the contrary. I have also remarked that swallows took their departure this year more than ordinarily in a body, very few stragglers being subsequently seen."

It will be sufficient to state that the mean temperature of January and February was below that of the same month in the preceding year, and that of March had not been so low for twenty years.

The opinion that sea-birds come to land in order to avoid an approaching storm is stated to be erroneous; and the cause assigned is, that as the fish upon which the birds prey go deep into the water during storms, the birds come to land merely on account of the greater certainty of finding food there than out at sea.

We add a few notes on Bird naturalists. The Redbreast has been called the Naturalist's Barometer. When on a summer evening, though it be unsettled and rainy, he sings cheerfully and sweetly on a lofty twig or housetop, it is an unerring promise of succeeding fine days. Sometimes, though the atmosphere be dry and warm, he may be seen melancholy chirping and brooding in a bush or low in a hedge; this promises the reverse. In the luxuriant forests of Brazil the Toucan may be heard rattling with his large hollow beak, as he sits on the outermost branches, calling in plaintive notes for rain.

When Mr. Loudon was at Schwetzingen, Rhenish Bavaria, in 1829, he witnessed in the post-house there for the first time what he afterwards frequently saw--an amusing application of zoological knowledge for the purpose of prognosticating the weather. Two tree-frogs were kept in a crystal jar about eighteen inches high and six inches in diameter, with a depth of three or four inches of water at the bottom, and a small ladder reaching to the top of the jar. On the approach of dry weather the frogs mounted the ladder, but when moisture was expected they descended into the water. These animals are of a bright green, and in their wild state climb the trees in search of insects, and make a peculiar singing noise before rain. In the jar they got no other food than now and then a fly; one of which, Mr. Loudon was assured, would serve a frog for a week, though it would eat from six to twelve flies in a day if it could get them. In catching the flies put alive into the jar the frogs displayed great adroitness.

Snails are extraordinary indicators of changes in the weather. Several years ago, Mr. Thomas, of Cincinnati, known as an accredited observer of natural phenomena, published some interesting accounts of Weather-wise Snails. They do not drink (he observes), but imbibe moisture in their bodies during rain, and exude it at regular periods afterwards. Then a certain snail first exudes the pure liquid; when this is exhausted, a light red succeeds, then a deep red, next yellow, and lastly a dark brown. The snail is very careful not to exude more of its moisture than is necessary. It is never seen abroad except before rain, when we find it ascending the bark of trees and getting on the leaves. The tree-snail is also seen ascending the stems of plants two days before rain: if it be a long and hard rain they get on the sheltered side of the leaf, but if a short rain the outside of the leaf. Another snail has the same habits, but differs only in colour: before rain it is yellow, and after it blue. Others show signs of rain, not only by means of exuding fluids, but by means of pores and protuberances; and the bodies of some snails have large tubercles rising from them before rain. These tubercles commence showing themselves ten days previous to the fall of rain they indicate; at the end of each of these tubercles is a pore; and at the time of the fall of rain these tubercles, with their pores opened, are stretched to their utmost to receive the water. In another kind of snail, a few days before rain appears a large and deep indentation, beginning at the head between the horns, and ending with the jointure at the shells. Other snails, a few days before the rain, crawl to the most exposed hill-side, where, if they arrive before the rain descends, they seek some crevice in the rocks, and then close the aperture of the shell with glutinous substance; this, when the rain approaches, they dissolve, and are then seen crawling about.

Our Cincinnati observer mentions three kinds of snails which move along at the rate of a mile in forty-four hours; they inhabit the most dense forests, and it is regarded as a sure indication of rain to observe them moving towards an exposed situation. Others indicate the weather not only by exuding fluids, but by the colour of the animal. After rain the snail has a very dark appearance, but it grows of a bright colour as the water is expended; whilst just before rain it is of yellowish white colour, also just before rain streaks appear from the point of the head to the jointure of the shell. These snails move at the rate of a mile in fourteen days and sixteen hours. If they are observed ascending a cliff it is a sure indication of rain: they live in the cavities of the sides of cliffs. There is also a snail which is brown, tinged with blue on the edges before rain, but black after rain: a few days before appears an indentation, which grows deeper as the rain approaches.