The climbing for and collecting of these nests requires daring, skill and is not without danger. The nests may be far back and high up in the cave. Ropes and poles may have to be fixed in place to aid the climber, who has a flaming torch in one hand and carries a sack or basket for the nests. In Siam, at least, the collecting of these nests was hereditary, father training son. The rights to collect nests are valuable. In Siam, where the rights to collecting the nests were vested in the state, revenue of as high as £20,000 has been received from the rights for this collection.
The nests are said to be of highly nitrogenous material, and contain about 50 per cent of protein and 7½ per cent of mineral matter. Their use as food is an Oriental custom, but an Occidental opinion of their flavor is that it is bland, and an appreciation of it needs to be cultivated. The price of these nests is so great that unscrupulous persons have manufactured spurious nests. These nests are made from agar-agar, the jelly made by boiling down certain seaweed, and are so cleverly flavored that only connoisseurs can detect the fraud.
We usually think of these nests in connection with birds'-nest soup, which may be made with chicken or beef broth and then the cleaned material of the nest added like tapioca or vermicelli. Sometimes a sweet soup is made. Sometimes lotus seeds, sugar, and the nest material are used in the preparation of the dish. But in the Orient, at least formerly, they're considered to have medicinal qualities, too. It is said that when combined with ginseng they are capable of restoring life to a person on the point of death. In Northern China where the winter is bitterly cold, it is a general belief that the blood congeals and can only be thawed out by drinking a soup made of these nests. The list of further benefits, such as against tuberculosis, as a tonic, stimulant, and a pacifier of the stomach, recall advertisements of patent medicines.
WALLED WIVES OF HORNBILLS
For long it has been written that the male hornbill walled up his mate in her nest in a hole in a tree at nesting time, and one author even wrote that the male plucked out the female's feathers at this time. The facts underlying these statements have different interpretations, but the nesting of the hornbill is still one of the most extraordinary of animal habits. Travelers and naturalists in Africa had brought back tantalizing bits of information, to add piecemeal to our knowledge of these birds. Now all this is synthesized and corrected by R. E. Moreau, onetime resident in East Africa, who made a study of certain species, raised young birds by hand, and gave us a comparative study of their behavior. Even this study must be considered preliminary, for, of the twenty-six African species, we have breeding data on only sixteen of them.
First we must not generalize too far as to "the hornbills," for there are Asiatic and Malayan species as well as African, and African species differ among themselves, the ground hornbill being especially aberrant in its habits.
It is quite true that in many African species the female is walled up in her nest, and the period when she is enclosed may last three to four months. But it cannot be interpreted as an imprisonment forced on her by the male, and presumably she could, if she wanted to, open the entrance at any time, as she does finally on emerging.
Among the African species the details vary, but the nest is usually located in a hole in a tree, and except in the case of the ground hornbill the entrance is plastered up so that only a narrow slit is left, about wide enough for the passage of the bird's bill. The female takes an active part in the walling up of the opening, and might be said to wall herself in. When the opening to be filled in is wide, the male may bring earth, which he mixes with saliva in his gullet, and presents to the female, who does the actual plastering. In some species the walling up of the entrance may take months.
The female may wall herself in some days before she lays her first egg. Throughout incubation she remains there. Depending on the species, she may peck her way out, or burst out when the young are partly grown, or she may stay until the young are ready to fly.
During the time the female is walled in the male brings food for her, and later for the young, also. That he is a good provider is indicated by the fatness of the female and her young. This is proverbial with the natives of Africa. The method of feeding varies with the species. The male may bring a bit of food in its bill, pass it in to the female, and then go for another, or in other species we might think more intelligent, the male carries a quantity of berries in its gullet, and these are regurgitated one by one and passed to the waiting female; such species make trips to the nest less frequently.
Apparently shortly after the female goes into the retirement of her walled-in nest, she molts all her flight feathers, so that she is flightless, and then begins to grow them again.
When the female bursts out of the nest with the young only partly grown, the young that remain in a still very undeveloped state in the nest, using material in the nest such as remains of food and rotten wood, replaster the hole! The young, perhaps only halfway through their fledgling period, wall themselves in! The female then helps the male care for the young.
Such is an outline of what some of the African hornbills do at nesting time. The habit is unique in the bird world. One species appears not to wall up its nest. In an Asiatic species it is said that if the male is killed other hornbills help to feed the female in retirement. The whole procedure is an amazing behavior pattern, and one for the development of which it is difficult to find a functional explanation.
BURIED EGGS AND YOUNG
The crocodile bird, or Egyptian plover, has enjoyed a dubious publicity because of its reputed habit of entering, and coming out of, crocodile mouths. As Herodotus put it, the crocodile's mouth is infested with leeches, and when the crocodile comes out of the water it lies with its mouth open facing the western breeze. Then the crocodile bird goes into the crocodile's mouth and devours the leeches, to the gratification of the crocodile, who is careful not to harm the bird. Though there are some more recent observations corroborating this, modern observers who have had abundant opportunity have watched for this behavior and have not seen it.
As one authority on African birds puts it, it is evidently not an everyday occurrence.
But the crocodile bird has other habits that are just as bizarre and interesting. It lives along the sandy shores of African rivers, and when it lays its clutch of two to four eggs these are buried in the sand so there is no sign of them aboveground. The bird sits on top of this spot. A. L. Butler, who studied this bird in the Sudan, thought that the sand might be scraped away from the eggs and the eggs brooded in normal fashion by night. The young birds are very precocial, and feed themselves on tiny insects, but they follow the parent. When danger threatens the young squat motionless in some depression. The toe mark of a hippopotamus is a favorite place. Then the old bird, with her bill, throws sand over the young until they may be completely covered. Not only does this happen when the birds are very small, but continues up until the time the birds can fly. Dr. W. Serle in Sierra Leone once saw a crocodile bird burying something and found the disturbed spot fairly easily, as recent rain had beaten the sand beach smooth and hard; a fully fledged young was unearthed. It squatted motionless until prodded from behind, then it ran swiftly, rose, and flew away strongly.
The burying is not only protection from immediate enemies; A. L. Butler believed it was normal for the young when not feeding to be buried for safety or as protection from the burning sun. For a further protection from the sun the parent moistens the sand by regurgitating water over it.
Butler on one occasion saw a crocodile bird drink at the water's edge, run up onto a sand beach, regurgitate water, then settle to brood. Butler marked the spot, went to it, and, scraping away the dampened sand, found a tiny chick about one inch below the surface.
This covering of the eggs by the parent is not unique in the bird world. The pied-billed grebe of North America also does this. When disturbed at the nest the incubating bird has been seen to use quick pecking motions to draw material from the edge of the nest over the eggs. Instead of leaving the eggs exposed the nest simply looks like a heap of trash and may thus escape the attention of a predator. It used to be thought that this grebe used to incubate only at night, leaving the eggs covered during the day to be incubated by the heat from the sun and from the decaying vegetation of the nest. However, recent studies have shown this is not the case, and protection by concealment seems to be the main advantage of this behavior.
Yet another species of quite a different group, the eider duck, covers its eggs on leaving them. The eider's nest is characterized by a blanket of down, plucked from the breast of the bird, and when the female has time, when she leaves the nest she pulls the edges of the down blanket over the eggs, perhaps for concealment, perhaps for the sake of the down's insulating properties, keeping the eggs warm in a northern climate during the parent's absence.
Here we have covering of eggs for what seems to be very different purposes: to keep the eggs cool; to keep them warm; and to hide them from view.
THE SNOWY OWL AS A TRADE INDEX
Angus Gavin was a fur trader at the Perry River post of the Hudson's Bay Company on the edge of the Arctic Ocean. White foxes were the chief fur brought in, and the Eskimos were the trappers. Sometimes it was necessary to advance credit to an Eskimo, against the expectation of a coming season's catch out of which the advance was to be repaid. Gavin, who was a keen naturalist as well as trader, writes, "I used my observation on Snowy Owl abundance to govern extension of credit...." When snowy owls were abundant he could extend liberal credit to the Eskimo with every assurance the white-fox catch would be good and that the Eskimo would be able to liquidate his debt. When snowy owls were scarce little credit would be extended, for the white-fox catch would be small.
In general we've accepted the value of birds to man, and are appreciative of the complicated web of life in which one animal affects many others. But this use of snowy-owl abundance as a guide in granting credit strikes me as novel. Actually, of course, it is quite sound, for it uses one part of the chain that links such diverse items as owls, lemmings, foxes, Eskimo, fur trader, and finally of course milady in her white-fox furs.
LEMMINGS IMPORTANT First of the factors involved is, of course, the vegetation; the grasses, herbs, and tiny dwarf shrubs of the Arctic barrens. The next are the lemmings, mouselike creatures of the Far North that eat the vegetation. They are the first step in turning grass into flesh and fur and feathers. One of the striking facts of lemming biology is the fluctuation in their numbers. Some years they swarm, lemmings are everywhere, and in places they erupt in vast emigration, the tundra and the sea ice being covered with masses of moving lemmings. We know this best from the accounts written about the lemmings of Norway, but the same thing occurs in the American Arctic. At other times they're scarce and it is difficult to find even one. Strangely there's a periodicity in this, and periods of abundance and scarcity tend to recur every four years. What happens or what causes it we don't know.
The Arctic fox, staple fur bearer of the Far North, and the snowy owl both prey on lemmings. Lemmings are so important to them that when lemmings are abundant the foxes and the owls prosper and multiply; when the lemmings are scarce the foxes and the owls starve or migrate, in any case where there are few lemmings there are few foxes or owls.
Thus we see how it is that an abundance of snowy owls can indicate that the Eskimo will make a good fox catch and the trader will do good business.
Stray Feathers From a Bird Man's Desk · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.