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Tales of the Birds

by W. Warde Fowler

By W. Warde Fowler · Science · Public domain

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About this book

Tales of the Birds is a public-domain classic of science by W. Warde Fowler.

The complete text is on this page and the chapter pages below — all 24 chapters, about 46,564 words (~4 hours of reading), free to read online with no signup.

Tales of the Birds at a glance

Author
W. Warde Fowler
Length
46,564 words · about 4 hours to read
Chapters
24
Price
Free — public domain

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Read Tales of the Birds online — full text

Part 1

TALES OF THE BIRDS

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA MELBOURNE

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO

Front.]

TALES OF THE BIRDS

BY W. WARDE FOWLER

AUTHOR OF “A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS.”

“Μετἀ δἐ χρόνον την πελειάδα ἀνθρωηίη φωνή αὐδάξασθαι λέγουσι.” HERODOTUS

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY BRYAN HOOK

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON 1909

RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED. BREAD STREET HILL, E.C., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

First Edition., 1888. Second Edition, 1889. Reprinted, 1891, 1899, 1909. School Edition, 1901. Reprinted, 1903 (twice).

TO G. J. E. IN MEMORY OF PLEASANT DAYS IN THE SUNNY SUMMER OF 1887.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

A WINTER’S TALE 1

OUT OF TUNE 33

A JUBILEE SPARROW 54

THE FALCON’S NEST 82

A DEBATE IN AN ORCHARD 109

A TRAGEDY IN ROOK-LIFE 132

A QUESTION BEGINNING WITH “WHY” 156

THE LIGHTHOUSE 181

THE OWLS’ REVENGE 210

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

... AND STOOD THERE, PROUD AND FIERCE, WITH ONE FOOT STILL GRASPING ITS VICTIM (Frontispiece.)

THUS THEY PASSED THE NIGHT, TOLERABLY WARM AND COMFORTABLE, AND EVEN SLEEPING To face page 19

Part 2

“HOW THAT BIRD DOES SING!” “ “ 49

A “JUBILEE” SPARROW “ “ 61

AND THE BLACKBIRD BEGAN HIS ORATION “ “ 117

... DEEP IN MEDITATION ON THE PROBLEMS WHICH OCCUPIED HIS MIND To face page 141

“WOULD YOU MIND TELLING ME, AS I SEE YOU WAG YOUR OWN TAILS SO CONSTANTLY AND SO NICELY, WHY YOU DO IT?” To face page 170

PIPI LOOKED UP AND SAW FLIP; IN AN INSTANT THEY WERE TOGETHER To face page 205

HE IS SITTING AND EATING HIS DINNER AT THE FOOT OF HIS FAVOURITE OAK To face page 212

TAIL-PIECE TO “THE OWLS’ REVENGE” Page 239

TALES OF THE BIRDS.

A WINTER’S TALE.

There is a certain quiet bit of land, just where two midland counties meet, that is in winter a favourite resort of the fieldfares. There they find all they need--the hedges are usually bright with hips, and with the darker crimson berries of the hawthorn; the fields are all pasture-meadows, and the grass is tufty and full of insects; a little stream winds snake-like through the fields, hidden by an overarching growth of briar and bramble. No well-worn path crosses these meadows, and you may count on being undisturbed if you sit for a few minutes, to enjoy the winter sunshine and watch the shy birds, on the bole of one of the scattered elms that shelter the cows in summer. The fieldfares are in clover here: they get food, drink, sunshine when there is any, and above all the solitude they so deeply love. In other parts of the district you may see them, or you may not, for they move about and show their handsome forms and slaty backs, now here, now there; but in this favoured haunt some are always to be seen, and set up their loud call-note from elm or hedgetop as soon as your intruding form is seen moving in their direction.

One autumn there had been but a poor crop of berries; and by the time the fieldfares arrived in middle England the blackbirds and missel-thrushes had already rifled the hedges of much of their fruit. But up to the middle of January enough remained to feed the usual number of visitors, and when once January is past, they may hope for open weather and a plentiful supply of grubs and worms to help them out. During the third week in that wintry month, the sun shone bright and warm, though the fields were covered with hoar frost at night; no thought of trouble entered the hearts of the birds; in the middle of the day you might even have heard them uttering a faint kind of song from the hedge-top over the brook, as the genial sun warmed them and bade them think of the spring that was surely coming.

But the frost went on, day by day; and now the blue sky was covered with dull cloud, driven before a bitter north-east wind, so that the sun could no longer melt the hard-bound meadows with his midday glow. The fieldfares found themselves quite alone. The redwings had gone to the neighbourhood of the towns and villages, and so too had the robins and wrens, who had lived in the hedges all the winter through till now. The rooks and starlings were in the ploughed fields, and searching even there almost in vain for food. A chance crow or magpie was all the company they had for several days together; and crows and magpies are not always agreeable neighbours.

At last the berries were all gone, and the ground so hard-frozen that no bill could break it and no bird hope to find grub or worm there. Some of the elder birds went a long distance one day to forage; they returned very tired with news of a single hedge on which there was still some store of berries, but they had left one of their number behind them. The old birds looked very grave; they called a meeting, and then the eldest, with drooping tail and lack-lustre eye, told them that they must stay no longer where they were, and no longer keep all together. They must break up into small parties and find their food as best they could for themselves; if they did not go far, and the frost broke up, they might all find their way back again in a few days; all might yet be well. “But I must tell you,” said he, turning to the younger birds, “that if the frost goes on, or if snow falls, we shall all be in peril of our lives. And see, a light, dry snow is falling already! You that are young and strong must leave us at once and go southward. Do not delay a moment; fly while you can. We, who are already tired out, will seek the berry hedge we found, and try and recruit ourselves before we move further. We left our poor old friend under that hedge this morning, with his head under his wing, and we do not know whether we shall find him again alive. But we will all hope for the best, and try to struggle through a bad time. Good-bye, young ones, good-bye! Be sure you break up into companies of three or four, or you will never find enough to keep you from starving. Keep a good heart, and go straight southwards towards the mid-day sun, and when the frost goes, come again northwards, and hope to find us here.” Then he flew away, slowly and feebly, and most of the other old birds followed him.

The young ones, who still had plenty of life and hope in them, and hardly knew what it was to be in peril of their lives, soon broke up into different divisions, and started different ways, but all in a southward direction. Each company had its leader, and there was much rivalry as to which should belong to the company which was led by a handsome and lively bird named Cocktail, to whom they all looked up. But Cocktail would not have more than three with him; and Cocktail was wont to have his own way. He chose his great friend Feltie and two others, Jack and Jill; and off they went with a loud and hearty good-bye; the other three quite confident in Cocktail’s prudence, skill, and courage. He was nearly two years old; he had had a nest and family last summer in a Norwegian pine-forest; he had attacked a magpie that was threatening his young, and beaten it away in disgrace; he had led a large party across the Northern Sea last autumn to England, and had found them all a breakfast within an hour of landing. Whatever he did was sure to be right, and wherever he went there was sure to be food. He was well aware of all his virtues, and liked, in a cheerful and pleasant way, to be made much of; and he had taken young Feltie under his protection from their first acquaintance, because Feltie had very soon made it plain that in his honest eyes there was no such bird as Cocktail to be found in the whole world. Jill was chosen because she was a young hen-bird of a mild and yielding disposition, yet of pleasant manners and ladylike ways; and to say the truth, during these sunny days of late, Cocktail had cast an approving eye upon her, and had half made up his mind to select her as his partner for the coming spring and summer--provided of course that no one with superior charms should meet his eye in the meantime. As for her own choice in the matter, that never entered into his calculations. Lastly, Jack was the brother of Jill, and very fond of her--which is not usually the case with brothers and sisters among the fieldfares; and on this account he was allowed to join the party. “We must have one more,” Cocktail had said before they started, “and it really doesn’t much matter who it is provided he will follow me and do what I tell him. No swaggerers here, please; I want some one who’s nobody in particular!”

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