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diff --git a/37787-h/37787-h.htm b/37787-h/37787-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ecc4666 --- /dev/null +++ b/37787-h/37787-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9659 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Birds and Man, by W. H. Hudson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + ins {background-color:#e0ffe0; text-decoration: none;} + p {margin-top: .75em; text-indent: 1.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + td {padding-left: 12px;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; color: #808080; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .bb {border-bottom: solid #000 1px;} + .bb2 {border-bottom: solid #000 2px;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .justify {text-align: justify;} + .text_rt {text-align: right;} + .text_lf {text-align: left;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .caption1 {font-weight: bold; font-size:2.00em; margin: 0.5em; text-align: center;} + .caption2 {font-weight: bold; font-size:1.50em; margin-top: 0.25em; text-align: center;} + .caption2nc {font-size:1.5em;} + .caption3 {font-weight: bold; font-size:1.15em; margin-top: 0.1em; text-align: center;} + .trans_notes {background:#d0d0d0; padding: 14px; border:solid black 1px;} + .fig_center {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .poem {margin-left:5em; text-align: left;} + .book {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Birds and Man, by W. H. Hudson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Birds and Man + +Author: W. H. Hudson + +Release Date: October 18, 2011 [EBook #37787] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIRDS AND MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Tom Cosmas and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="book"> +<div class="fig_center"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="314" height="456" alt="Cover Page" title="Cover Page" /> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="caption1">BIRDS AND MAN</div><br /> + +<div class="center"> +<table summary="border"> +<tr> +<td> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Books By Author"> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf"><div class="caption2 bb"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i></div></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Birds in a Village</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Adventures among Birds</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Nature in Downland</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Hampshire Days</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">The Land's End</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">A Shepherd's Life</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Afoot in England</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">The Purple Land</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Green Mansions</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">A Crystal Age</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">South American Sketches</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">The Naturalist in La Plata</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_lf smcap">A Little Boy Lost</td> +</tr> +</table> +</td> +</tr> +</table></div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="fig_center"> +<img src="images/frontice.jpg" width="470" height="689" alt="frontice" title="frontice" /> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="caption1">BIRDS AND MAN</div> +<br /> + +<div class="caption3">BY</div> +<div class="caption2">W. H. HUDSON</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="caption3">LONDON<br /> +DUCKWORTH & CO.<br /> +3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="center"><i>New Edition published by Duckworth & Co. 1915<br /> +Re-issued 1920</i></div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<p>This book has been out of print for several years +and has been somewhat altered for this new edition. +The order in which the chapters originally appeared +is changed. One chapter dealing mainly with bird +life in the Metropolis, a subject treated fully in +another work, has been omitted; two new chapters +are added, and some fresh matter introduced +throughout the work.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="caption2">CONTENTS</div> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" width="100%" cellspacing="0" summary="ToC"> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">CHAP.</td> + <td> </td> + <td class="text_rt">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">I.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#BIRDS_AT_THEIR_BEST">Birds at their Best</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">II.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#BIRDS_AND_MAN">Birds and Man</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">37</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">III.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#DAWS_IN_THE_WEST_COUNTRY">Daws in the West Country</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">58</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">IV.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#EARLY_SPRING_IN_SAVERNAKE_FOREST">Early Spring in Savernake Forest</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">79</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">V.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#A_WOOD_WREN_AT_WELLS">A Wood Wren at Wells</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">101</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">VI.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#THE_SECRET_OF_THE_WILLOW_WREN">The Secret of the Willow Wren</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">117</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">VII.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#SECRET_OF_THE_CHARM_OF_FLOWERS">Secret of the Charm of Flowers</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">133</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">VIII.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#RAVENS_IN_SOMERSET">Ravens in Somerset</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">159</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">IX.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#OWLS_IN_A_VILLAGE">Owls in a Village</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">173</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">X.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#THE_STRANGE_AND_BEAUTIFUL_SHELDRAKE">The Strange and Beautiful Sheldrake</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">187</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">XI.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#GEESE_AN_APPRECIATION_AND_A_MEMORY">Geese: an Appreciation and a Memory</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">199</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">XII.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#THE_DARTFORD_WARBLER">The Dartford Warbler</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">222</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">XIII.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#VERT_VERT_OR_PARROT_GOSSIP">Vert—Vert; or Parrot Gossip</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">249</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">XIV.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#SOMETHING_PRETTY_IN_A_GLASS_CASE">Something Pretty in a Glass Case</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">269</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="text_rt">XV.</td> + <td class="text_lf smcap"><a href="#SELBORNE">Selborne</a></td> + <td class="text_rt">283</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="text_lf smcap">Index</td> + <td class="text_rt">303</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg_1]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">BIRDS AND MAN</div> +<br /> + +<a name="BIRDS_AT_THEIR_BEST" id="BIRDS_AT_THEIR_BEST"></a> +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER I</div> +<br /> +<div class="caption2">BIRDS AT THEIR BEST</div> +<br /> +<div class="caption2"><i>By Way of Introduction</i></div> + +<p>Years ago, in a chapter concerning eyes in a book +of Patagonian memories, I spoke of the unpleasant +sensations produced in me by the sight of stuffed +birds. Not bird skins in the drawers of a cabinet, +it will be understood, these being indispensable to +the ornithologist, and very useful to the larger class +of persons who without being ornithologists yet +take an intelligent interest in birds. The unpleasantness +was at the sight of skins stuffed with wool and +set up on their legs in imitation of the living bird, +sometimes (oh, mockery!) in their "natural surroundings." +These "surroundings" are as a rule +constructed or composed of a few handfuls of earth +to form the floor of the glass case—sand, rock, clay, +chalk, or gravel; whatever the material may be it +invariably has, like all "matter out of place," a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg_2]</a></span> +grimy and depressing appearance. On the floor +are planted grasses, sedges, and miniature bushes, +made of tin or zinc and then dipped in a bucket of +green paint. In the chapter referred to it was said, +"When the eye closes in death, the bird, except to +the naturalist, becomes a mere bundle of dead +feathers; crystal globes may be put into the empty +sockets, and a bold life-imitating attitude given to +the stuffed specimen, but the vitreous orbs shoot +forth no life-like glances: the 'passion and the life +whose fountains are within' have vanished, and +the best work of the taxidermist, who has given a +life to his bastard art, produces in the mind only +sensations of irritation and disgust."</p> + +<p>That, in the last clause, was wrongly writ. It +should have been <i>my</i> mind, and the minds of those +who, knowing living birds intimately as I do, have +the same feeling about them.</p> + +<p>This, then, being my feeling about stuffed birds, +set up in their "natural surroundings," I very naturally +avoid the places where they are exhibited. At +Brighton, for instance, on many occasions when I +have visited and stayed in that town, there was no +inclination to see the Booth Collection, which is +supposed to be an ideal collection of British birds; +and we know it was the life-work of a zealous ornithologist +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg_3]</a></span> +who was also a wealthy man, and who +spared no pains to make it perfect of its kind. About +eighteen months ago I passed a night in the house +of a friend close to the Dyke Road, and next morning, +having a couple of hours to get rid of, I strolled +into the museum. It was painfully disappointing, +for though no actual pleasure had been expected, +the distress experienced was more than I had bargained +for. It happened that a short time before, +I had been watching the living Dartford warbler, +at a time when the sight of this small elusive creature +is loveliest, for not only was the bird in his brightest +feathers, but his surroundings were then most +perfect—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +The whin was frankincense and flame.<br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="justify">His appearance, as I saw him then and on many +other occasions in the furze-flowering season, is fully +described in a chapter in this book; but on this +particular occasion while watching my bird I saw it +in a new and unexpected aspect, and in my surprise +and delight I exclaimed mentally, "Now I have seen +the furze wren at his very best!"</div> + +<p>It was perhaps a very rare thing—one of those +effects of light on plumage which we are accustomed +to see in birds that have glossed metallic feathers, +and, more rarely, in other kinds. Thus the turtle-dove +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg_4]</a></span> +when flying from the spectator with a strong +sunlight on its upper plumage, sometimes at a distance +of two to three hundred yards, appears of a +shining whiteness.</p> + +<p>I had been watching the birds for a couple of +hours, sitting quite still on a tuft of heather among +the furze-bushes, and at intervals they came to me, +impelled by curiosity and solicitude, their nests +being near, but, ever restless, they would never +remain more than a few seconds at a time in sight. +The prettiest and the boldest was a male, and it was +this bird that in the end flew to a bush within twelve +yards of where I sat, and perching on a spray about +on a level with my eyes exhibited himself to me in +his characteristic manner, the long tail raised, crest +erect, crimson eye sparkling, and throat puffed out +with his little scolding notes. But his colour was +no longer that of the furze wren: seen at a distance +the upper plumage always appears slaty-black; +near at hand it is of a deep slaty-brown; now it +was dark, sprinkled or frosted over with a delicate +greyish-white, the white of oxidised silver; and +this rare and beautiful appearance continued for +a space of about twenty seconds; but no sooner did +he flit to another spray than it vanished, and he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg_5]</a></span> +once more the slaty-brown little bird with a chestnut-red +breast.</p> + +<p>It is unlikely that I shall ever again see the +furze wren in this aspect, with a curious splendour +wrought by the sunlight in the dark but semi-translucent +delicate feathers of his mantle; but its +image is in the mind, and, with a thousand others +equally beautiful, remains to me a permanent +possession.</p> + +<p>As I went in to see the famous Booth Collection, +a thought of the bird I have just described came +into my mind; and glancing round the big long +room with shelves crowded with stuffed birds, like +the crowded shelves of a shop, to see where the Dartford +warblers were, I went straight to the case and +saw a group of them fastened to a furze-bush, the +specimens twisted by the stuffer into a variety of +attitudes—ancient, dusty, dead little birds, painful +to look at—a libel on nature and an insult to a man's +intelligence.</p> + +<p>It was a relief to go from this case to the others, +which were not of the same degree of badness, but +all, like the furze wrens, were in their natural surroundings—the +pebbles, bit of turf, painted leaves, +and what not, and, finally, a view of the wide world +beyond, the green earth and the blue sky, all painted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg_6]</a></span> +on the little square of deal or canvas which formed +the back of the glass case.</p> + +<p>Listening to the talk of other visitors who were +making the round of the room, I heard many sincere +expressions of admiration: they were really pleased +and thought it all very wonderful. That is, in fact, +the common feeling which most persons express in +such places, and, assuming that it is sincere, the +obvious explanation is that they know no better. +They have never properly seen anything in nature, +but have looked always with mind and the inner +vision preoccupied with other and familiar things—indoor +scenes and objects, and scenes described +in books. If they had ever looked at wild birds +properly—that is to say, emotionally—the images of +such sights would have remained in their minds; +and, with such a standard for comparison, these +dreary remnants of dead things set before them as +restorations and as semblances of life would have +only produced a profoundly depressing effect.</p> + +<p>We hear of the educational value of such exhibitions, +and it may be conceded that they might be +made useful to young students of zoology, by distributing +the specimens over a large area, arranged +in scattered groups so as to give a rough idea of the +relationship existing among its members, and of all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg_7]</a></span> +together to other neighbouring groups, and to others +still further removed. The one advantage of such +a plan to the young student would be, that it would +help him to get rid of the false notion, which classification +studied in books invariably produces, that +nature marshals her species in a line or row, or +her genera in a chain. But no such plan is ever +attempted, probably because it would only be for the +benefit of about one person in five hundred visitors, +and the expense would be too great.</p> + +<p>As things are, these collections help no one, and +their effect is confusing and in many ways injurious +to the mind, especially to the young. A multitude +of specimens are brought before the sight, each and +every one a falsification and degradation of nature, +and the impression left is of an assemblage, or mob, +of incongruous forms, and of a confusion of colours. +The one comfort is that nature, wiser than our +masters, sets herself against this rude system of overloading +the brain. She is kind to her wild children +in their intemperance, and is able to relieve the +congested mind, too, from this burden. These +objects in a museum are not and cannot be viewed +emotionally, as we view living forms and all nature; +hence they do not, and we being what we are, cannot, +register lasting impressions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg_8]</a></span> +It needed a long walk on the downs to get myself +once more in tune with the outdoor world after that +distuning experience; but just before quitting the +house in the Dyke Road an old memory came to me +and gave me some relief, inasmuch as it caused me +to smile. It was a memory of a tale of the Age of +Fools, which I heard long years ago in the days of +my youth.</p> + +<p>I was at a small riverine port of the Plata river, +called Ensenada de <ins title='Correction: was "Barragan"'>Barragán</ins>, assisting a friend to +ship a number of sheep which he had purchased in +Buenos Ayres and was sending to the Banda Oriental—the +little republic on the east side of the great sea-like +river. The sheep, numbering about six thousand, +were penned at the side of the creek where the +small sailing ships were lying close to the bank, and +a gang of eight men were engaged in carrying the +animals on board, taking them one by one on their +backs over a narrow plank, while I stood by keeping +count. The men were gauchos, all but one—a +short, rather grotesque-looking Portuguese with +one eye. This fellow was the life and soul of the +gang, and with his jokes and antics kept the others +in a merry humour. It was an excessively hot day, +and at intervals of about an hour the men would +knock off work, and, squatting on the muddy bank, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg_9]</a></span> +rest and smoke their cigarettes; and on each occasion +the funny one-eyed Portuguese would relate +some entertaining history. One of these histories +was about the Age of Fools, and amused me so much +that I remember it to this day. It was the history +of a man of that remote age, who was born out of +his time, and who grew tired of the monotony of his +life, even of the society of his wife, who was no whit +wiser than the other inhabitants of the village they +lived in. And at last he resolved to go forth and +see the world, and bidding his wife and friends farewell +he set out on his travels. He travelled far and +met with many strange and entertaining adventures, +which I must be pardoned for not relating, as this +is not a story-book. In the end he returned safe and +sound to his home, a much richer man than when he +started; and opening his pack he spread out before +his wife an immense number of gold coins, with +scores of precious stones, and trinkets of the greatest +value. At the sight of this glittering treasure she +uttered a great scream of joy and jumping up rushed +from the room. Seeing that she did not return, he +went to look for her, and after some searching discovered +that she had rushed down to the wine-cellar +and knocking open a large cask of wine had jumped +into it and drowned herself for pure joy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg_10]</a></span> +"Thus happily ended his adventures," concluded +the one-eyed cynic, and they all got up and resumed +their work of carrying sheep to the boat.</p> + +<p>It was one of the adventures met with by the man +of the tale in his travels that came into my mind +when I was in the Booth Museum, and caused me +to smile. In his wanderings in a thinly settled +district, he arrived at a village where, passing by +the church, his attention was attracted by a curious +spectacle. The church was a big building with a +rounded roof, and great blank windowless walls, and +the only door he could see was no larger than the +door of a cottage. From this door as he looked a +small old man came out with a large empty sack in +his hands. He was very old, bowed and bent with +infirmities, and his long hair and beard were white +as snow. Toddling out to the middle of the churchyard +he stood still, and grasping the empty sack by +its top, held it open between his outstretched arms +for a space of about five minutes; then with a +sudden movement of his hands he closed the sack's +mouth, and still grasping it tightly, hurried back +to the church as fast as his stiff joints would let him, +and disappeared within the door. By and by he +came forth again and repeated the performance, +and then again, until the traveller approached and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg_11]</a></span> +asked him what he was doing. "I am lighting the +church," said the old man; and he then went on +to explain that it was a large and a fine church, full +of rich ornaments, but very dark inside—so dark +that when people came to service the greatest confusion +prevailed, and they could not see each other +or the priest, nor the priest them. It had always +been so, he continued, and it was a great mystery; +he had been engaged by the fathers of the village a +long time back, when he was a young man, to carry +sunlight in to light the interior; but though he had +grown old at his task, and had carried in many, +many thousands of sackfuls of sunlight every year, +it still remained dark, and no one could say why it +was so.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to relate the sequel: the reader +knows by now that in the end the dark church was +filled with light, that the traveller was feasted and +honoured by all the people of the village, and that +he left them loaded with gifts.</p> + +<p>Parables of this kind as a rule can have no moral +or hidden meaning in an age so enlightened as this; +yet oddly enough we do find among us a delusion +resembling that of the villagers who thought they +could convey sunshine in a sack to light their dark +church. It is one of a group or family of indoor +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg_12]</a></span> +delusions and illusions, which Mr Sully has not +mentioned in his book on that fascinating subject. +One example of the particular delusion I have been +speaking of, in which it is seen in its crudest form, +may be given here.</p> + +<p>A man walking by the water-side sees by chance +a kingfisher fly past, its colour a wonderful blue, far +surpassing in beauty and brilliancy any blue he has +ever seen in sky or water, or in flower or stone, or +any other thing. No sooner has he seen than he +wishes to become the possessor of that rare loveliness, +that shining object which, he fondly imagines, +will be a continual delight to him and to all in his +house,—an ornament comparable to that splendid +stone which the poor fisherman found in a fish's +belly, which was his children's plaything by day and +his candle by night. Forthwith he gets his gun and +shoots it, and has it stuffed and put in a glass case. +But it is no longer the same thing: the image of +the living sunlit bird flashing past him is in his mind +and creates a kind of illusion when he looks at his +feathered mummy, but the lustre is not visible to +others.</p> + +<p>It is because of the commonness of this delusion +that stuffed kingfishers, and other brilliant species, +are to be seen in the parlours of tens of thousands +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg_13]</a></span> +of cottages all over the land. Nor is it only those +who live in cottages that make this mistake; those +who care to look for it will find that it exists in some +degree in most minds—the curious delusion that the +lustre which we see and admire is in the case, the +coil, the substance which may be grasped, and not +in the spirit of life which is within and the atmosphere +and miracle-working sunlight which are without.</p> + +<p>To return to my own taste and feelings, since in +the present chapter I must be allowed to write on +Man (myself to wit) and Birds, the other chapters +being occupied with the subject of Birds and Man. +It has always, or since I can remember, been my +ambition and principal delight to see and hear every +bird at its best. This is here a comparative term, +and simply means an unusually attractive aspect of +the bird, or a very much better than the ordinary +one. This may result from a fortunate conjunction +of circumstances, or may be due to a peculiar +harmony between the creature and its surroundings; +or in some instances, as in that given above +of the Dartford warbler, to a rare effect of the sun. +In still other cases, motions and antics, rarely seen, +singularly graceful, or even grotesque, may give the +best impression. After one such impression has +been received, another equally excellent may follow +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg_14]</a></span> +at a later date: in that case the second impression +does not obliterate, or is not superimposed upon the +former one; both remain as permanent possessions +of the mind, and we may thus have several mental +pictures of the same species.</p> + +<p>It is the same with all minds with regard to the +objects and scenes which happen to be of special +interest. The following illustration will serve to +make the matter clearer to readers who are not +accustomed to pay attention to their own mental +<ins title='Correction: was "procesess"'>processes</ins>. When any common object, such as a +chair, or spade, or apple, is thought of or spoken of, +an image of a picture of it instantly comes before the +mind's eye; not of a particular spade or apple, but +of a type representing the object which exists in the +mind ready for use on all occasions. With the +question of the origin of this type, this spade or +apple of the mind, we need not concern ourselves +here. If the object thought or spoken of be an +animal—a horse let us say, the image seen in the +mind will in most cases be as in the foregoing case +a type existing in the mind and not of an individual. +But if a person is keenly interested in horses generally, +and is a rider and has owned and loved many horses, +the image of some particular one which he has known +or has looked at with appreciative eyes will come to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg_15]</a></span> +mind; and he will also be able to call up the images +of dozens or of scores of horses he has known or seen +in the same way. If on the other hand we think of +a rat, we see not any individual but a type, because +we have no interest in or no special feeling with +regard to such a creature, and all the successive +images we receive of it become merged in one—the +type which already existed in the mind and was +probably formed very early in life. With the dog +for subject the case is different: dogs are more with +us—we know them intimately and have perhaps +regarded many individuals with affection; hence +the image that rises in the mind is as a rule of some +dog we have known.</p> + +<p>The important point to be noted is, that while +each and everything we see registers an impression +in the brain, and may be recalled several minutes, or +hours, or even days afterwards, the only permanent +impressions are of the sights which we have viewed +emotionally. We may remember that we have seen +a thousand things in which at some later period an +interest has been born in the mind, when it would +be greatly to our pleasure and even profit to recover +their images, and we strive and ransack our brains +to do so, but all in vain: they have been lost for +ever because we happened not to be interested in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg_16]</a></span> +the originals, but viewed them with indifference, or +unemotionally.</p> + +<p>With regard to birds, I see them mentally in two +ways: each species which I have known and observed +in its wild state has its type in the mind—an +image which I invariably see when I think of the +species; and, in addition, one or two or several, in +some cases as many as fifty, images of the same +species of bird as it appeared at some exceptionally +favourable moment and was viewed with peculiar +interest and pleasure.</p> + +<p>Of hundreds of such enduring images of our commonest +species I will here describe one before concluding +with this part of the subject.</p> + +<p>The long-tailed or bottle-tit is one of the most +delicately pretty of our small woodland birds, and +among my treasures, in my invisible and intangible +album, there were several pictures of him which I +had thought unsurpassable, until on a day two years +ago when a new and better one was garnered. I +was walking a few miles from Bath by the Avon +where it is not more than thirty or forty yards wide, +on a cold, windy, very bright day in February. The +opposite bank was lined with bushes growing close +to the water, the roots and lower trunks of many of +them being submerged, as the river was very full; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg_17]</a></span> +and behind this low growth the ground rose abruptly, +forming a long green hill crowned with tall beeches. +I stopped to admire one of the bushes across the +stream, and I wish I could now say what its species +was: it was low with widespread branches close to +the surface of the water, and its leafless twigs were +adorned with catkins resembling those of the black +poplar, as long as a man's little finger, of a rich dark-red +or maroon colour. A party of about a dozen +long-tailed tits were travelling, or drifting, in their +usual desultory way, through the line of bushes +towards this point, and in due time they arrived, +one by one, at the bush I was watching, and finding +it sheltered from the wind they elected to remain +at that spot. For a space of fifteen minutes I looked +on with delight, rejoicing at the rare chance which +had brought that exquisite bird- and plant-scene +before me. The long deep-red pendent catkins and +the little pale birdlings among them in their grey +and rose-coloured plumage, with long graceful tails +and minute round, parroty heads; some quietly +perched just above the water, others moving +about here and there, occasionally suspending +themselves back downwards from the slender +terminal twigs—the whole mirrored below. That +magical effect of water and sunlight gave to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg_18]</a></span> +scene a somewhat fairy-like, an almost illusory, +character.</p> + +<p>Such scenes live in their loveliness only for him +who has seen and harvested them: they cannot be +pictured forth to another by words, nor with the +painter's brush, though it be charged with <i>tintas +orientales</i>; least of all by photography, which brings +all things down to one flat, monotonous, colourless +shadow of things, weary to look at.</p> + +<p>From sights we pass to the consideration of +sounds, and it is unfortunate that the two subjects +have to be treated consecutively instead of together, +since with birds they are more intimately joined +than in any other order of beings; and in images +of bird life at its best they sometimes cannot be dissociated;—the +aërial form of the creature, its +harmonious, delicate tints, and its grace of motion; +and the voice, which, loud or low, is aërial too, in +harmony with the form.</p> + +<p>We know that as with sights so it is with sounds: +those to which we listen attentively, appreciatively, +or in any way emotionally, live in the mind, to be +recalled and reheard at will. There is no doubt that +in a large majority of persons this retentive power +is far less strong with regard to sounds than sights, +but we are all supposed to have it in some degree. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg_19]</a></span> +So far, I have met with but one person, a lady, who +is without it: sounds, in her case, do not register +an impression in the brain, so that with regard to +this sense she is in the condition of civilised man +generally with regard to smells. I say of civilised +man, being convinced that this power has <ins title='Correction: "s" deleted'>become</ins> +obsolete in us, although it appears to exist in savages +and in the lower animals. The most common +sounds, natural or artificial, the most familiar bird-notes, +the lowing of a cow, the voices of her nearest +and dearest friends, and simplest melodies sung or +played, cannot be reproduced in her brain: she +remembers them as agreeable sounds, just as we all +remember that certain flowers and herbs have agreeable +odours; but she does not <i>hear</i> them. Probably +there are not many persons in the same case; but +in such matters it is hard to know what the real condition +of another's mind may be. Our acquaintances +refuse to analyse or turn themselves inside +out merely to gratify a curiosity which they may +think idle. In some cases they perhaps have a kind +of superstition about such things: the secret processes +of their mind are <i>their</i> secret, or "business," +and, like the secret and <i>real</i> name of a person among +some savage tribes, not to be revealed but at the +risk of giving to another a mysterious power over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg_20]</a></span> +their lives and fortunes. Even worse than the reticent, +the superstitious, and the simply unintelligent, +is the highly imaginative person who is only too +ready to answer all inquiries, who catches at what +you say in explanation, divines what you want, and +instantly (and unconsciously) invents something +to tell you.</p> + +<p>But we may, I think, take it for granted that the +faculty of retaining sounds is as universal as that of +retaining sights, although, speaking generally, the +impressions of sounds are less perfect and lasting +than those which relate to the higher, more intellectual +sense of vision; also that this power varies +greatly in different persons. Furthermore, we see +in the case of musical composers, and probably of +most musicians who are devoted to their art, that +this faculty is capable of being trained and developed +to an extraordinary degree of efficiency. The composer +sitting pen in hand to write his score in his +silent room hears the voices and the various instruments, +the solos and orchestral sounds, which are +in his thoughts. It is true that he is a creator, and +listens mentally to compositions that have never +been previously heard; but he cannot imagine, or +cannot <i>hear</i> mentally, any note or combination of +notes which he has never heard with his physical +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg_21]</a></span> +sense. In creating he selects from the infinite +variety of sounds whose images exist in his mind, +and, rearranging them, produces new effects.</p> + +<p>The difference in the brains, with regard to their +sound-storing power, of the accomplished musician +and the ordinary person who does not know one tune +from another and has but fleeting impressions of +sounds in general, is no doubt enormous; probably +it is as great as that which exists in the logical +faculty between a professor of that science in one of +the Universities and a native of the Andaman +Islands or of Tierra del Fuego. It is, we see, a question +of training: any person with a normal brain +who is accustomed to listen appreciatively to certain +sounds, natural or artificial, must store his mind +with the images of such sounds. And the open-air +naturalist, who is keenly interested in the language +of birds, and has listened with delight to a great +variety of species, should be as rich in such impressions +as the musician is with regard to musical +sounds. Unconsciously he has all his life been +training the faculty.</p> + +<p>With regard to the durability of the images, it +may be thought by some that, speaking of birds, +only those which are revived and restored, so to +speak, from time to time by fresh sense-impressions +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg_22]</a></span> +remain permanently distinct. That would naturally +be the first conclusion most persons would arrive +at, considering that the sound-images which exist +in their minds are of the species found in their own +country, which they are able to hear occasionally, +even if at very long intervals in some cases. My +own experience proves that it is not so; that a man +may cut himself off from the bird life he knows, to +make his home in another region of the globe thousands +of miles away, and after a period exceeding +a quarter of a century, during which he has become +intimate with a wholly different bird life, to find +that the old sound-images, which have never been +refreshed with new sense-impressions, are as distinct +as they ever were, and seem indeed imperishable.</p> + +<p>I confess that, when I think of it, I am astonished +myself at such an experience, and to some it must +seem almost incredible. It will be said, perhaps, +that in the infinite variety of bird-sounds heard +anywhere there must be innumerable notes which +closely resemble, or are similar to, those of other +species in other lands, and, although heard in a +different order, the old images of cries and calls and +songs are thus indirectly refreshed and kept alive. +I do not think that has been any real help to me. +Thus, I think of some species which has not been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg_23]</a></span> +thought of for years, and its language comes back +at call to my mind. I listen mentally to its various +notes, and there is not one in the least like the +notes of any British species. These images have +therefore never received refreshment. Again, where +there is a resemblance, as in the trisyllabic cry of +the common sandpiper and another species, I listen +mentally to one, then to the other, heard so long +ago, and hear both distinctly, and comparing the +two, find a considerable difference, one being a +thinner, shriller, and less musical sound than the +other. Still again, in the case of the blackbird, +which has a considerable variety in its language, +there is one little chirp familiar to every one—a +small round drop of sound of a musical, bell-like +character. Now it happens that one of the true +thrushes of South America, a bird resembling our +song-thrush, has an almost identical bell-like chirp, +and so far as that small drop of sound is concerned +the old image may be refreshed by new sense-impressions. +Or I might even say that the original +image has been covered by the later one, as in the +case of the laughter-like cries of the Dominican and +the black-backed gulls. But with regard to the +thrushes, excepting that small drop of sound, the +language of the two species is utterly different. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg_24]</a></span> +Each has a melody perfect of its kind: the song of +the foreign bird is not fluty nor mellow nor placid +like that of the blackbird, but has in a high degree +that quality of plaintiveness and gladness commingled +which we admire in some fresh and very +beautiful human voices, like that described in +Lowell's lines "To Perdita Singing":—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +It hath caught a touch of sadness,<br /> + Yet it is not sad;<br /> +It hath tones of clearest gladness,<br /> + Yet it is not glad.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Again, that foreign song is composed of many +notes, and is poured out in a stream, as a skylark +sings; and it is also singular on account of the contrast +between these notes which suggest human +feeling and a purely metallic, bell-like sound, which, +coming in at intervals, has the effect of the triangle +in a band of wind instruments. The image of this +beautiful song is as distinct in my mind as that of +the blackbird which I heard every day last summer +from every green place.</p> + +<p>Doubtless there are some and perhaps a good +many ornithologists among us who have been abroad +to observe the bird life of distant countries, and who +when at home find that the sound-impressions they +have received are not persistent, or, if not wholly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg_25]</a></span> +lost, that they grow faint and indistinct, and become +increasingly difficult to recall. They can no longer +<i>listen</i> to those over-sea notes and songs as they can, +mentally, to the cuckoo's call in spring, the wood-owl's +hoot, to the song of the skylark and of the tree-pipit, +the reeling of the night-jar and the startling +scream of the woodland jay, the deep human-like +tones of the raven, the inflected wild cry of the +curlew, and the beautiful wild whistle of the widgeon, +heard in the silence of the night on some lonely mere.</p> + +<p>The reason is that these, and numberless more, +are the sounds of the bird life of their own home and +country; the living voices to which they listened +when they were young and the senses keener than +now, and their enthusiasm greater; they were in +fact heard with an emotion which the foreign species +never inspired in them, and thus heard, the images +of the sounds were made imperishable.</p> + +<p>In my case the foreign were the home birds, and +on that account alone more to me than all others; +yet I escaped that prejudice which the British +naturalist is never wholly without—the notion that +the home bird is, intrinsically, better worth listening +to than the bird abroad. Finally, on coming to this +country, I could not listen to the birds coldly, as an +English naturalist would to those of, let us say, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg_26]</a></span> +Queensland, or Burma, or Canada, or Patagonia, +but with an intense interest; for these were the +birds which my forbears had known and listened +to all their lives long; and my imagination was fired +by all that had been said of their charm, not indeed +by frigid ornithologists, but by a long succession of +great poets, from Chaucer down to those of our own +time. Hearing them thus emotionally their notes +became permanently impressed on my mind, and I +found myself the happy possessor of a large number +of sound-images representing the bird language of +two widely separated regions.</p> + +<p>To return to the main point—the durability of +the impressions both of sight and sound.</p> + +<p>In order to get a more satisfactory idea of the +number and comparative strength or vividness of +the images of twenty-six years ago remaining to me +after so long a time than I could by merely thinking +about the subject, I drew up a list of the species +of birds observed by me in the two adjoining districts +of La Plata and Patagonia. Against the +name of each species the surviving sight- and sound-impressions +were set down; but on going over this +first list and analysis, fresh details came to mind, and +some images which had become dimmed all at once +grew bright again, and to bring these in, the work +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg_27]</a></span> +had to be redone; then it was put away and the +subject left for a few days to the "subliminal consciousness," +after which I took it up once more and +rewrote it all—list and analysis; and I think it +now gives a fairly accurate account of the state +of these old impressions as they exist in memory.</p> + +<p>This has not been done solely for my own gratification. +I confess to a very strong feeling of curiosity +as to the mental experience on this point of other +field naturalists; and as these, or some of them, +may have the same wish to look into their neighbours' +minds that I have, it may be that the example given +here will be followed.</p> + +<p>My list comprises 226 species—a large number +to remember when we consider that it exceeds by +about 16 or 18 the number of British species; that +is to say, those which may truly be described as +belonging to these islands, without including the +waifs and strays and rare visitants which by a fiction +are described as British birds. Of the 226, the +sight-impressions of 10 have become indistinct, and +one has been completely forgotten. The sight of +a specimen might perhaps revive an image of this +lost one as it was seen, a living wild bird; but I do +not know. This leaves 215, every one of which I +can mentally see as distinctly as I see in my mind +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg_28]</a></span> +the common species I am accustomed to look at +every day in England—thrush, starling, robin, etc.</p> + +<p>A different story has to be told with regard to the +language. To begin with, there are no fewer than +34 species of which no sound-impressions were +received. These include the habitually silent kinds—the +stork, which rattles its beak but makes no +vocal sound, the painted snipe, the wood ibis, and +a few more; species which were rarely seen and +emitted no sound—condor, Muscovy duck, harpy +eagle, and others; species which were known only +as winter visitants, or seen on migration, and which +at such seasons were invariably silent.</p> + +<p>Thus, those which were heard number 192. Of +these the language of 7 species has been completely +forgotten, and of 31 the sound-impressions have +now become indistinct in varying degrees. Deducting +those whose notes have become silent and are +not clearly heard in the mind, there remain 154 +species which are distinctly remembered. That +is to say, when I think of them and their language, +the cries, calls, songs, and other sounds are reproduced +in the mind.</p> + +<p>Studying the list, in which the species are ranged +in order according to their affinities, it is easy to +see why the language of some, although not many, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg_29]</a></span> +has been lost or has become more or less indistinct. +In some cases it is because there was nothing distinctive +or in any way attractive in the notes; in +other cases because the images have been covered +and obliterated by others—the stronger images of +closely-allied species. In the two American families +of tyrant-birds and woodhewers, neither of which +are songsters, there is in some of the closely-related +species a remarkable family resemblance in their +voices. Listening to their various cries and calls, +the trained ear of the ornithologist can easily distinguish +them and identify the species; but after +years the image of the more powerful or the better +voices of, say, two or three species in a group of four +or five absorb and overcome the others. I cannot +find a similar case among British species to illustrate +this point, unless it be that of the meadow- and +rock-pipit. Strongly as the mind is impressed by +the measured tinkling notes of these two songs, +emitted as the birds descend to earth, it is not probable +that any person who had not heard them for +a number of years would be able to distinguish or +keep them separate in his mind—to hear them in +their images as two distinct songs.</p> + +<p>In the case of the good singers in that distant +region, I find the voices continue remarkably dis +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg_30]</a></span>tinct, +and as an example will give the two melodious +families of the finches and the troupials (Icteridae), +the last an American family, related to the finches, +but starling-like in appearance, many of them +brilliantly coloured. Of the first I am acquainted +with 12 and of the second with 14 species.</p> + +<p>Here then are 26 highly vocal species, of which +the songs, calls, chirps, and various other notes, are +distinctly remembered in 23. Of the other three one +was silent—a small rare migratory finch resembling +the bearded-tit in its reed-loving habits, its long +tail and slender shape, and partly too in its colouring. +I listened in vain for this bird's singing notes. +Of the remaining two one is a finch, the other a +troupial; the first a pretty bird, in appearance a +small hawfinch with its whole plumage a lovely +glaucous blue; a poor singer with a low rambling +song: the second a bird of the size of a starling, +coloured like a golden oriole, but more brilliant; +and this one has a short impetuous song composed +of mixed guttural and clear notes.</p> + +<p>Why is this rather peculiar song, of a species +which on account of its colouring and pleasing social +habits strongly impresses the mind, less distinct in +memory than the songs of other troupials? I +believe it is because it is a rare thing to hear a single +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg_31]</a></span> +song. They perch in a tree in company, like birds +of paradise, and no sooner does one open his beak +than all burst out together, and their singing strikes +on the sense in a rising and falling tempest of confused +sound. But it may be added that though +these two songs are marked "indistinct" in the +list, they are not very indistinct, and become less +so when I listen mentally with closed eyes.</p> + +<p>In conclusion, it is worthy of remark that the +good voices, as to quality, and the powerful ones, +are not more enduring in their images than those +which were listened to appreciatively for other +reasons. Voices which have the quality of ventriloquism, +or are in any way mysterious, or are suggestive +of human tones, are extremely persistent; and such +voices are found in owls, pigeons, snipe, rails, grebes, +night-jars, tinamous, rheas, and in some passerine +birds. Again, the swallows are not remarkable as +singers compared with thrushes, finches, and other +melodists; but on account of their intrinsic charm +and beauty, their interesting habits, and the sentiment +they inspire, we listen to them emotionally; +and I accordingly find that the language of the five +species of swallows I was formerly accustomed to +see and hear continues as distinct in my mind as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg_32]</a></span> +that of the chimney swallow, which I listen to every +summer in England.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + + +<p>I had meant in this chapter to give three or four +or half a dozen instances of birds seen at their best, +instead of the one I have given—that of the long-tailed +tit; and as many more images in which a +rare, unforgettable effect was produced by melody. +For as with sights so it is with sounds: for these +too there are "special moments," which have +"special grace." But this chapter is already longer +than it was ever meant to be, and something on +another subject yet remains to be said.</p> + +<p>The question is sometimes asked, What is the +charm which you find, or say you find, in nature? +Is it real, or do these words so often repeated have a +merely conventional meaning, like so many other +words and phrases which men use with regard to +other things? Birds, for instance: apart from the +interest which the ornithologists must take in his +subject, what substantial happiness can be got out +of these shy creatures, mostly small and not too +well seen, that fly from us when approached, and +utter sounds which at their best are so poor, so thin, +so trivial, compared with our soul-stirring human +music? +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg_33]</a></span></p> + +<p>That, briefly, is the indoor view of the subject—the +view of those who, to begin with, were perhaps +town-born and town-bred; who have existed amid +conditions, occupied with work and pleasures, the +reflex effect of which, taken altogether and in the +long-run, is to dim and even deaden some of the +brain's many faculties, and chiefly this best faculty +of preserving impressions of nature for long years +or to the end of life in all their original freshness.</p> + +<p>Some five or six years ago I heard a speech about +birds delivered by Sir Edward Grey, in which he +said that the love and appreciation and study of +birds was something fresher and brighter than the +second-hand interests and conventional amusements +in which so many in this day try to live; that the +pleasure of seeing and listening to them was purer +and more lasting than any pleasures of excitement, +and, in the long-run, "happier than personal success." +That was a saying to stick in the mind, and +it is probable that some who listened failed to understand. +Let us imagine that in addition to this +miraculous faculty of the brain of storing innumerable +brilliant images of things seen and heard, to +be reproduced at call to the inner sense, there existed +in a few gifted persons a correlated faculty by means +of which these treasured images could be thrown at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg_34]</a></span> +will into the mind of another; let us further imagine +that some one in the audience who had wondered +at that saying, finding it both dark and hard, had +asked me to explain it; and that in response I +had shown him, as by a swift succession of lightning +flashes a <ins title='Correction: was "scare"'>score</ins> or a hundred images of birds at their +best—the unimaginable loveliness, the sunlit colour, +the grace of form and of motion, and the melody—how +great the effect of even that brief glance into +a new unknown world would have been! And if I +had then said: All that you have seen—the pictures +in one small room in a house of many rooms—is not +after all the main thing; <i>that</i> it would be idle to +speak of, since you cannot know what you do not +feel, though it should be told you many times; +this only can be told—the enduring images are but +an incidental result of a feeling which existed already; +they were never looked for, and are a free gift from +nature to her worshipper;—if I had said this to him, +the words of the speech which has seemed almost sheer +insanity a little while before would have acquired +a meaning and an appearance of truth.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<p>It has curiously happened that while writing +these concluding sentences some old long-forgotten +lines which I read in my youth came suddenly into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg_35]</a></span> +my mind, as if some person sitting invisible at my +side and thinking them apposite to the subject had +whispered them into my ear. They are lines addressed +to the Merrimac River by an American +poet—whether a major or minor I do not know, +having forgotten his name. In one stanza he +mentions the fact that "young Brissot" looked +upon this stream in its bright flow—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +And bore its image o'er the deep<br /> + To soothe a martyr's sadness,<br /> +And fresco in his troubled sleep<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">His prison walls with gladness.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Brissot is not generally looked upon as a "martyr" +on this side of the Atlantic, nor was he allowed to +enjoy his "troubled sleep" too long after his fellow-citizens +(especially the great and sea-green Incorruptible) +had begun in their fraternal fashion to +thirst for his blood; but we can easily believe that +during those dark days in the Bastille the image and +vision of the beautiful river thousands of miles away +was more to him than all his varied stores of knowledge, +all his schemes for the benefit of suffering +humanity, and perhaps even a better consolation +than his philosophy.</p> + +<p>It is indeed this "gladness" of old sunshine +stored within us—if we have had the habit of seeing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg_36]</a></span> +beauty everywhere and of viewing all beautiful +things with appreciation—this incalculable wealth +of images of vanished scenes, which is one of our best +and dearest possessions, and a joy for ever.</p> + +<p>"What asketh man to have?" cried Chaucer, +and goes on to say in bitterest words that "now +with his love" he must soon lie in "the coldë grave—alone, +withouten any companie."</p> + +<p>What he asketh to have, I suppose, is a blue +diamond—some unattainable good; and in the +meantime, just to go on with, certain pleasant +things which perish in the using.</p> + +<p>These same pleasant things are not to be despised, +but they leave nothing for the mind in hungry days to +feed upon, and can be of no comfort to one who is shut +up within himself by age and bodily infirmities and the +decay of the senses; on the contrary, the recollection +of them at such times, as has been said, can but +serve to make a present misery more poignantly felt.</p> + +<p>It was the nobly expressed consolation of an +American poet, now dead, when standing in the +summer sunshine amid a fine prospect of woods +and hills, to think, when he remembered the darkness +of decay and the grave, that he had beheld +in nature, though but for a moment,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +The brightness of the skirts of God. +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="BIRDS_AND_MAN" id="BIRDS_AND_MAN"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg_37]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER II</div> + +<div class="caption2">BIRDS AND MAN</div> + +<p>To most of our wild birds man must appear as a +being eccentric and contradictory in his actions. +By turns he is hostile, indifferent, friendly towards +them, so that they never quite know what to expect. +Take the case of a blackbird who has gradually +acquired trustful habits, and builds its nest in the +garden or shrubbery in sight of the friends that have +fed it in frosty weather; so little does it fear that +it allows them to come a dozen times a day, put the +branches aside and look upon it, and even stroke +its back as it sits on its eggs. By and by a neighbour's +egg-hunting boy creeps in, discovers the nest, +and pulls it down. The bird finds itself betrayed +by its confidence; had it suspected the boy's evil +intentions it would have made an outcry at his +approach, as at the appearance of a cat, and the +nest would perhaps have been saved. The result of +such an accident would probably be the unsettling +of an acquired habit, the return to the usual suspicious +attitude. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg_38]</a></span></p> + +<p>Birds are able sometimes to discriminate between +protectors and persecutors, but seldom very well I +should imagine; they do not view the face only, +but the whole form, and our frequent change of +dress must make it difficult for them to distinguish +the individuals they know and trust from strangers. +Even a dog is occasionally at fault when his master, +last seen in black and grey suit, reappears in straw +hat and flannels.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, if birds once come to know those +who habitually protect them and form a trustful +habit, this will not be abandoned on account of a +little rough treatment on occasions. A lady at +Worthing told me of her blackbirds breeding in +her garden that they refused to be kept from the +strawberries when she netted the ripening fruit. +One or more of the birds would always manage to +get under the net; and when she would capture +the robber and carry him, screaming, struggling and +pecking at her fingers, to the end of the garden and +release him, he would immediately follow her back +to the bed and set himself to get at the fruit again.</p> + +<p>In a bird's relations with other mammals there +is no room for doubt or confusion; each consistently +acts after its kind; once hostile, always hostile; +and if once seen to be harmless, then to be trusted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg_39]</a></span> +for ever. The fox must always be feared and detested; +his disposition, like his sharp nose and red +coat, is unchangeable; so, too, with the cat, stoat, +weasel, etc. On the other hand, in the presence of +herbivorous mammals, birds show no sign of suspicion; +they know that all these various creatures +are absolutely harmless, from the big formidable-looking +bull and roaring stag, to the mild-eyed, +timorous hare and rabbit. It is common to see +wagtails and other species attending cattle in the +pastures, and keeping close to their noses, on the +look-out for the small insects driven from hiding in +the grass. Daws and starlings search the backs of +cattle and sheep for ticks and other parasites, and +it is plain that their visits are welcome. Here a +joint interest unites bird and beast; it is the nearest +approach to symbiosis among the higher vertebrates +of this country, but is far less advanced than the +partnership which exists between the rhinoceros +bird and the rhinoceros or buffalo, and between +the spur-winged plover and crocodile in Africa.</p> + +<p>One day I was walking by a meadow, adjoining +the Bishop's palace at Wells, where several cows +were grazing, and noticed a little beyond them a +number of rooks and starlings scattered about. +Presently a flock of about forty of the cathedral +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg_40]</a></span> +jackdaws flew over me and slanted down to join +the other birds, when all at once two daws dropped +out of the flock on to the back of the cow standing +nearest to me. Immediately five more daws followed, +and the crowd of seven birds began eagerly pecking +at the animal's hide. But there was not room +enough for them to move freely; they pushed and +struggled for a footing, throwing their wings out to +keep their balance, looking like a number of hungry +vultures fighting for places on a carcase; and soon +two of the seven were thrown off and flew away. +The remaining five, although much straitened for +room, continued for some time scrambling over +the cow's back, busy with their beaks and apparently +very much excited over the treasure they had discovered. +It was amusing to see how the cow took +their visit; sinking her body as if about to lie down +and broadening her back, and dropping her head +until her nose touched the ground, she stood perfectly +motionless, her tail stuck out behind like a +pump-handle. At length the daws finished their +feeding and quarrelling and flew away; but for +some minutes the cow remained immovable in the +same attitude, as if the rare and delightful sensation +of so many beaks prodding and so many sharp claws +scratching her hide had not yet worn off. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg_41]</a></span></p> + +<p>Deer, too, like cows, are very grateful to the daw +for its services. In Savernake Forest I once witnessed +a very pretty little scene. I noticed a hind +lying down by herself in a grassy hollow, and as I +passed her at a distance of about fifty yards it struck +me as singular that she kept her head so low down +that I could only see the top of it on a level with her +back. Walking round to get a better sight, I saw +a jackdaw standing on the turf before her, very +busily pecking at her face. With my glass I was +able to watch his movements very closely; he +pecked round her eyes, then her nostrils, her throat, +and in fact every part of her face; and just as a man +when being shaved turns his face this way and that +under the gentle guiding touch of the barber's fingers, +and lifts up his chin to allow the razor to pass beneath +it, so did the hind raise and lower and turn her +face about to enable the bird to examine and reach +every part with his bill. Finally the daw left the +face, and, moving round, jumped on to the deer's +shoulders and began a minute search in that part; +having finished this he jumped on to the head and +pecked at the forehead and round the bases of the +ears. The pecking done, he remained for some +seconds sitting perfectly still, looking very pretty +with the graceful red head for a stand, the hind's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg_42]</a></span> +long ears thrust out on either side of him. From +his living perch he sprang into the air and flew away, +going close to the surface; then slowly the deer +raised her head and gazed after her black friend—gratefully, +and regretting his departure, I could not +but think.</p> + +<p>Some birds when breeding exhibit great anxiety +at the approach of any animal to the nest; but +even when most excited they behave very differently +towards herbivorous mammals and those which +they know to be at all times the enemies of their +kind. The nest of a ground-breeding species may +be endangered by the proximity of a goat, sheep, +deer, or any grazing animal, but the birds do not +winnow the air above it, scream, make threatening +dashes at its head, and try to lead it away as they +would do in the case of a dog or fox. When small +birds dash at and violently attack large animals +and man in defence of their nest, even though the +nest may not have been touched, the action appears +to be purely instinctive and involuntary, almost +unconscious, in fact. Acts of this kind are more +often seen in humming-birds than in birds of other +families; and humming-birds do not appear to +discriminate between rapacious and herbivorous +mammals. When they see a large animal moving +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg_43]</a></span> +about they fly close to and examine it for a few +moments, then dart away; if it comes too near the +nest they will attack it, or threaten an attack. +When examining their nests I have had humming-birds +dash into my face. The action is similar to +that of a stingless, solitary carpenter bee, common +in La Plata: a round burly insect with a shining +steel-blue body: when the tree or bush in which +this bee has its nest is approached by a man +it darts about in an eccentric manner, humming +loudly, and at intervals remains suspended motionless +for ten or fifteen seconds at a height of +seven or eight yards above his head; suddenly +it dashes quick as lightning into his face, inflicting +a sharp blow. The bee falls, as if stunned, a +space of a couple of feet, then rises again to repeat +the action.</p> + +<p>There is certainly a wide difference between so +simple an instinctive action as this, which cannot +be regarded as intelligent or conscious, and the +actions of most birds in the presence of danger to +their eggs or young. In species that breed on the +ground in open situations the dangers to which bird +and nest are exposed are of different kinds, and, +leaving out the case of that anomalous creature, +man, we see that as a rule the bird's judgment is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg_44]</a></span> +not at fault. In one case it is necessary that he +should guard himself while trying to save his nest; +in another case the danger is to the nest only, and +he then shows that he has no fear for himself. The +most striking instance I have met with, bearing +on this last point, relates to the action of a spur-winged +lapwing observed on the Pampas. The bird's +loud excited cries attracted my attention; a sheep +was lying down with its nose directly over the nest, +containing three eggs, and the plover was trying to +make it get up and go away. It was a hot day and +the sheep refused to stir; possibly the fanning of +the bird's wings was grateful to her. After beating +the sheep's face for some time it began pecking +sharply at the nose; then the sheep raised her head, +but soon grew tired of holding it up, and no sooner +was it lowered than the blows and peckings began +again. Again the head was raised, and lowered +again with the same result, and this continued for +about twelve or fourteen minutes, until the annoyance +became intolerable; then the sheep raised +her head and refused to lower it any more, and in +that very uncomfortable position, with her nose high +in the air, she appeared determined to stay. In +vain the lapwing waited, and at last began to make +little jumps at the face. The nose was out of reach, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg_45]</a></span> +but by and by, in one of its jumps, it caught the +sheep's ear in its beak and remained hanging with +drooping wings and dangling legs. The sheep shook +her head several times and at last shook the bird off; +but no sooner was it down than it jumped up and +caught the ear again; then at last the sheep, fairly +beaten, struggled up to her feet, throwing the bird +off, and lazily walked away, shaking her head +repeatedly.</p> + +<p>How great the confidence of the plover must have +been to allow it to act in such a manner!</p> + +<p>This perfect confidence which birds have in the +mammals they have been taught by experience and +tradition to regard as harmless must be familiar to +any one who has observed partridges associating +with rabbits. The manners of the rabbit, one would +imagine, must be exceedingly "upsetting" to birds +of so timorous a disposition. He has a way, after a +quiet interval, of leaping into activity with startling +suddenness, darting violently away as if scared out +of his senses; but his eccentric movements do not +in the least alarm his feathered companions. One +evening early in the month of March I witnessed +an amusing scene near Ockley, in Surrey. I was +walking towards the village about half an hour after +sunset, when, hearing the loud call of a partridge, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg_46]</a></span> +I turned my eyes in the direction of the sound and +saw five birds on a slight eminence nearly in the +centre of a small green field, surrounded by a low +thorn hedge. They had come to that spot to roost; +the calling bird was standing erect, and for some +time he continued to call at intervals after the others +had settled down at a distance of one or two yards +apart. All at once, while I stood watching the birds +there was a rustling sound in the hedge, and out of +it burst two buck rabbits engaged in a frantic running +fight. For some time they kept near the hedge, +but fighting rabbits seldom continue long on one +spot; they are incessantly on the move, although +their movements are chiefly round and round now +one way—flight and pursuit—then, like lightning, +the foremost rabbit doubles back and there is a +collision, bitings, and rolling over and over together, +and in an instant they are up again, wide apart, +racing like mad. Gradually they went farther and +farther from the hedge; and at length chance took +them to the very spot on which the partridges had +settled, and there for three or four minutes the duel +went on. But the birds refused to be turned out +of their quarters. The bird that had called still +remained standing, expectant, with raised head, +as if watching for the appearance of some loiterer, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg_47]</a></span> +while the others all kept their places. Their quietude +in the midst of that whirlwind of battle was wonderful +to see. Their only movement was when one of +the birds was in a direct line with a flying rabbit, +when, if it stayed still, in another moment it would +be struck and perhaps killed by the shock; then +it would leap a few inches aside and immediately +settle down again. In this way every one of the +birds had been forced to move several times before +the battle passed on towards the opposite side of +the field and left the covey in peace.</p> + +<p>Social animals, Herbert Spencer truly says, "take +pleasure in the consciousness of one another's company;" +but he appears to limit the feeling to those +of the same herd, or flock, or species. Speaking of +the mental processes of the cow, he tells us just +how that large mammal is impressed by the sight of +birds that come near it and pass across its field of +vision; they are regarded in a vague way as mere +shadows, or shadowy objects, flitting or blown about +hither and thither over the grass or through the air. +He didn't know a cow's mind. My conviction is +that all animals distinctly see in those of other species, +living, sentient, intelligent beings like themselves; +and that, when birds and mammals meet together, +they take pleasure in the consciousness of one +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg_48]</a></span> +another's presence, in spite of the enormous difference +in size, voice, habits, etc. I believe that this +sympathy exists and is just as strong between a +cow and its small volatile companion, the wagtail, +as between a bird and mammal that more nearly +resemble each other in size; for instance, the +partridge, or pheasant, and rabbit.</p> + +<p>The only bird with us that appears to have some +such feeling of pleasure in the company of man is +the robin. It is not universal, not even very common, +and Macgillivray, in speaking of the confidence +in men of that bird during severe weather, very truly +says, "In ordinary times he is not perfectly disposed +to trust in man." Any person can prove +this for himself by going into a garden or shrubbery +and approaching a robin. We see, too, that the bird +shows intense anxiety when its nest is approached +by a man; this point, however, need not be made +much of, since all visitors, <ins title='Correction: was "een"'>even</ins> its best friends, are +unwelcome to the breeding bird. Still, there is no +doubt that the robin is less distrustful of man than +other species, but not surely because this bird is +regarded by most persons with kindly feelings. The +curious point is that the young birds find something +in man to attract them. This is usually seen at the +end of summer, when the old birds have gone into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg_49]</a></span> +hiding, and it is then surprising to find how many +of the young robins left in possession of the ground +appear to take pleasure in the company of human +beings. Often before a person has been many +minutes in a garden strolling about, he will discover +that the quiet little spotted bird is with him, hopping +and flying from twig to twig and occasionally alighting +on the ground, keeping company with him, +sometimes sitting quite still a yard from his hand. +The gardener is usually attended by a friendly robin, +and when he turns up the soil the bird will come +down close to his feet to pick up the small grubs and +worms. Is it not probable that the tameness of the +tame young robin so frequently met with is, like that +of the robin who keeps company with the gardener +or woodman, an acquired habit; that the young +bird has made the discovery that when a person +is moving about among the plants, picking fruit +perhaps, lurking insects are disturbed at the roots +and small spiders and caterpillars shaken from the +leaves? We are to the robin what the cow is to +the wagtail and the sheep to the starling—a food +finder.</p> + +<p>Among the birds of the homestead the swallow +is another somewhat exceptional species in his way +of regarding man. He is too much a creature of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg_50]</a></span> +the air to take any pleasure in the <ins title='Correction: was "comany"'>company</ins> of heavy +animals, bound to earth; the distance is too great +for sympathy to exist. When we consider how +closely he is bound and how much he is to us, it is hard +to believe that he is wholly unconscious of our +benefits, that when he returns in spring, overflowing +with gladness, to twitter his delightful airy music +round the house, he is not singing to us, glad to see +us again after a long absence, to be once more our +welcome guest as in past years. But so it is. When +there were no houses in the land he built his nest +in some rocky cavern, where a she-wolf had her lair, +and his life and music were just as joyous as they +are now, and the wolf suckling her cubs on the stony +floor beneath was nothing to him. But if by chance +she climbed a little way up or put her nose too near +his nest, his lively twittering quickly changed to +shrill cries of alarm and anger. And we are no more +than the vanished wolf to the swallow, and so long +as we refrain from peeping into his nest and handling +his eggs or young, he does not know us, and is +hardly conscious of our existence. All the social +feelings and sympathy of the swallow are for +creatures as aërial and swift-winged as itself—its +playmates in the wide fields of air.</p> + +<p>Swallows hawking after flies in a village street, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg_51]</a></span> +where people are walking about, is a familiar sight, +Swifts are just as confident. A short time ago, +while standing in the churchyard at Farnham, in +Surrey, watching a bunch of ten or twelve swifts +racing through the air, I noticed that on each return +to the church they followed the same line, doubling +round the tower on the same side, then sweeping +down close to the surface, and mounting again. +Going to the spot I put myself directly in their way—on +their race-course as it were, at that point +where it touched the earth; but they did not on +that account vary their route; each time they +came back they streamed screaming past my head +so near as almost to brush my face with their wings. +But I was never more struck by the unconcern at +the presence of man shown by these birds—swallows, +martins, and swifts—as on one occasion at Frensham, +when the birds were very numerous. This was in +the month of May, about five weeks after I had +witnessed the fight between two rabbits, and the +wonderful composure exhibited by a covey of partridges +through it all. It was on a close hot morning, +after a night of rain, when, walking down to +Frensham Great Pond, I saw the birds hawking +about near the water. The may-flies were just out, +and in some mysterious way the news had been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg_52]</a></span> +swiftly carried all over the surrounding country. +So great was the number of birds that the entire +population of swallows, house- and sand-martins, +and swifts, must have been gathered at that spot +from the villages, farms, and sand-banks for several +miles around. At the side of the pond I was approaching +there is a green strip about a hundred +and twenty or a hundred and thirty yards in length +and forty or fifty yards wide, and over this ground +from end to end the birds were smoothly and swiftly +gliding backwards and forwards. The whole place +seemed alive with them. Hurrying to the spot I +met with a little adventure which it may not be +inapt to relate. Walking on through some scattered +furze-bushes, gazing intently ahead at the swallows, +I almost knocked my foot against a hen pheasant +covering her young chicks on the bare ground beside +a dwarf bush. Catching sight of her just in time I +started back; then, with my feet about a yard +from the bird, I stood and regarded her for some +time. Not the slightest movement did she make; +she was like a bird carved out of some beautifully +variegated and highly-polished stone, but her bright +round eyes had a wonderfully alert and wild expression. +With all her stillness the poor bird must +have been in an agony of terror and suspense, and I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg_53]</a></span> +wondered how long she would endure the tension. +She stood it for about fifty seconds, then burst +screaming away with such violence that her seven +or eight chicks were flung in all directions to a distance +of two or three feet like little balls of fluff; +and going twenty yards away she dropped to the +ground and began beating her wings, calling loudly.</p> + +<p>I then walked on, and in three or four minutes +was on the green ground in the thick of the swallows. +They were in hundreds, flying at various heights, +but mostly low, so that I looked down on them, and +they certainly formed a curious and beautiful spectacle. +So thick were they, and so straight and rapid +their flight, that they formed in appearance a current, +or rather many currents, flowing side by side in +opposite directions; and when viewed with nearly +closed eyes the birds were like black lines on the +green surface. They were silent except for the +occasional weak note of the sand-martin; and +through it all they were perfectly regardless of me, +whether I stood still or walked about among them; +only when I happened to be directly in the way of +a bird coming towards me he would swerve aside +just far enough to avoid touching me.</p> + +<p>In the evening of that very day the behaviour +of a number of gold-crests, disturbed at my presence, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg_54]</a></span> +surprised and puzzled me not a little; their action +had a peculiar interest just then, as the encounter +with the pheasant, and the sight of the multitude +of swallows and their indifference towards me were +still very fresh in memory. The incident has only +an indirect bearing on the subject discussed here, +but I think it is worth relating.</p> + +<p>About two miles from Frensham ponds there +is a plantation of fir-trees with a good deal of gorse +growing scattered about among the trees; in walking +through this wood on previous occasions I had +noticed that gold-crests were abundant in it. Soon +after sunset on the evening in question I went through +this wood, and after going about eighty to a hundred +yards became conscious of a commotion of a novel +kind in the branches above my head—conscious too +that it had been going on for some time, and that +absorbed in thought I had not remarked it. A +considerable number of gold-crests were flitting +through the branches and passing from tree to tree, +keeping over and near me, all together uttering +their most vehement cries of alarm. I stopped and +listened to the little chorus of shrill squeaking +sounds, and watched the birds as well as I could in +the obscurity of the branches, flitting about in the +greatest agitation. It was perfectly clear that I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg_55]</a></span> +was the cause of the excitement, as the birds increased +in number as long as I stood at that spot, +until there could not have been less than forty or +fifty, and when I again walked on they followed. +One expects to be mobbed and screamed at by gulls, +terns, lapwings, and some other species, when approaching +their nesting-places, but a hostile demonstration +of this kind from such minute creatures as +gold-crests, usually indifferent to man, struck me +as very unusual and somewhat ridiculous. What, +I asked myself, could be the reason of their sudden +alarm, when my previous visits to the wood had not +excited them in the least? I could only suppose +that I had, without knowing it, brushed against a +nest, and the alarm note of the parent birds had excited +the others and caused them to gather near me, +and that in the obscure light they had mistaken me +for some rapacious animal. The right explanation +(I think it the right one) was found by chance three +months later.</p> + +<p>In August I was in Ireland, staying at a country +house among the Wicklow hills. There were several +swallows' nests in the stable, one or two so low that +they could be reached by the hand, and the birds +went in and out regardless of the presence of any +person. In a few days the young were out, sitting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg_56]</a></span> +in rows on the roof of the house or on a low fence +near it, where their parents fed them for a short +time. After these young birds were able to take +care of themselves they still kept about the house, +and were joined by more swallows and martins from +the neighbourhood. One bright sunny morning, +when not fewer than two or three score of these +birds were flying about the house, gaily twittering, +I went into the garden to get some fruit. All at +once a swallow uttered his loud shrill alarm cry +overhead and at the same time darted down at me, +almost grazing my hat, then mounting up he continued +making swoops, screaming all the time. +Immediately all the other swallows and martins +came to the spot, joining in the cry, and continued +flying about over my head, but not darting at me +like the first bird. For some moments I was very +much astonished at the attack; then I looked +round for the cat—it must be the cat, I thought. +This animal had a habit of hiding among the gooseberry +bushes, and, when I stooped to pick the fruit, +springing very suddenly upon my back. But pussy +was nowhere near, and as the swallow continued to +make dashes at me, I thought that there must be +something to alarm it on my head, and at once +pulled off my hat and began to examine it. In a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg_57]</a></span> +moment the alarm cries ceased and the whole gathering +of swallows dispersed in all directions. There +was no doubt that my hat had caused the excitement; +it was of tweed, of an obscure grey colour, +striped or barred with dark brown. Throwing it +down on the ground among the bushes it struck me +that its colour and markings were like those of a +grey striped cat. Any one seeing it lying there +would, at the first moment, have mistaken it for a +cat lying curled up asleep among the bushes. Then I +remembered that I had been wearing the same +delusive, dangerous-looking round tweed fishing-hat +on the occasion of being mobbed by the gold-crests +at Frensham. Of course the illusion could +only have been produced in a bird looking down +upon the top of the hat from above.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="DAWS_IN_THE_WEST_COUNTRY" id="DAWS_IN_THE_WEST_COUNTRY"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg_58]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER III</div> + +<div class="caption2">DAWS IN THE WEST COUNTRY</div> + +<p>Daws are more abundant in the west and south-west +of England generally than in any other part of +the kingdom; and they abound most in Somerset, +or so it has seemed to me. It is true that the largest +congregations of daws in the entire country are to +be seen at Savernake in Wiltshire, where the ancient +hollow beeches and oaks in the central parts of the +forest supply them with all the nesting holes they +require. There is no such wood of old decaying +trees in Somerset to attract them to one spot in such +numbers, but the country generally is singularly +favourable to them. It is mainly a pastoral country +with large areas of rich, low grass land, and ranges +of high hills, where there are many rocky precipices +such as the daw loves. For very good reasons he +prefers the inland to the sea-cliff as a breeding site. +It is, to begin with, in the midst of his feeding ground, +whereas the sea-wall is a boundary to a feeding +ground beyond which the bird cannot go. Better +still, the inland bird has an immense advantage over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg_59]</a></span> +the other in travelling to and from his nest in bad +weather. When the wind blows strong from the +sea the seaside bird must perpetually fight against +it and win his home by sheer muscular exertion. +The other bird, able to go foraging to this side or +that, according to the way the wind blows, can +always have the wind as a help instead of a hindrance.</p> + +<p>Somerset also possesses a long coast-line and some +miles of sea-cliffs, but the colonies of jackdaws +found here are small compared with those of the +Mendip range. The inland-cliff breeding daws that +inhabit the valley of the Somerset Axe alone probably +greatly outnumber all the daws in Middlesex, +or Surrey, or Essex.</p> + +<p>Finally, besides the cliffs and woods, there are +the old towns and villages—small towns and villages +with churches that are almost like cathedrals. No +county in England is richer in noble churches, and +no kind of building seems more attractive to the +"ecclesiastical daw" than the great Perpendicular +tower of the Glastonbury type, which is so common +here.</p> + +<p>Of the old towns which the bird loves and inhabits +in numbers, Wells comes first. If Wells had no +birds it would still be a city one could not but delight +in. There are not more than half a dozen towns +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg_60]</a></span> +in all the country where (if I were compelled to live +in towns) life would not seem something of a burden; +and of these, two are in Somerset—Bath and Wells. +Of the former something will be said further on: +Wells has the first place in my affections, and is the +one town in England the sight of which in April and +early May, from a neighbouring hill, has caused me +to sigh with pleasure. Its cathedral is assuredly +the loveliest work of man in this land, supremely +beautiful, even without the multitude of daws that +make it their house, and may be seen every day +in scores, looking like black doves perched on the +stony heads and hands and shoulders of that great +company of angels and saints, apostles, kings, queens, +and bishops, that decorate the wonderful west front. +For in this building—not viewed as in a photograph +or picture, nor through the eye of the mere architect +or archaeologist, who sees the gem but not the setting—nature +and man appear to have worked together +more harmoniously than in others.</p> + +<p>But it is hard to imagine a birdless Wells. The +hills, beautiful with trees and grass and flowers, +come down to it; cattle graze on their slopes; the +peewit has its nest in their stony places, and the +kestrel with quick-beating wings hangs motionless +overhead. Nature is round it, breathing upon and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg_61]</a></span> +touching it caressingly on every side; flowing +through it like the waters that gave it its name in +olden days, that still gush with noise and foam from +the everlasting rock, to send their crystal currents +along the streets. And with nature, in and around +the rustic village-like city, live the birds. The green +woodpecker laughs aloud from the group of old +cedars and pines, hard by the cathedral close—you +will not hear that woodland sound in any other city +in the kingdom; and the rooks caw all day from +the rookery in the old elms that grow at the side of +the palace moat. But the cathedral daws, on +account of their numbers, are the most important +of the feathered inhabitants of Wells. These city +birds are familiarly called "Bishop's Jacks," to +distinguish them from the "Ebor Jacks," the daws +that in large numbers have their home and breeding-place +in the neighbouring cliffs, called the Ebor +Rocks.</p> + +<p>The Ebor daws are but the first of a succession of +colonies extending along the side of the Cheddar +valley. A curious belief exists among the people +of Wells and the district, that the Ebor Jacks make +better pets than the Bishop's Jacks. If you want +a young bird you have to pay more for one from the +rocks than from the cathedral. I was assured that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg_62]</a></span> +the cliff bird makes a livelier, more intelligent and +amusing pet than the other. A similar notion +exists, or existed, at Hastings, where there was a +saying among the fisher folks and other natives that +"a Grainger daa is worth a ha'penny more than +a castle daa." The Grainger rock, once a favourite +breeding-place of the daws at that point, has long +since fallen into the sea, and the saying has perhaps +died out.</p> + +<p>At Wells most of the cathedral birds—a hundred +couples at least—breed in the cavities behind the +stone statues, standing, each in its niche, in rows, +tier above tier, on the west front. In April, when +the daws are busiest at their nest-building, I have +amused myself early every morning watching them +flying to the front in a constant procession, every +bird bringing his stick. This work is all done in the +early morning, and about half-past eight o'clock a +man comes with a barrow to gather up the fallen +sticks—there is always a big barrowful, heaped high, +of them; and if not thus removed the accumulated +material would in a few days form a rampart or +zareba, which would prevent access to the cathedral +on that side.</p> + +<p>It has often been observed that the daw, albeit +so clever a bird, shows a curious deficiency of judg +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg_63]</a></span>ment +when building, in his persistent efforts to carry +in sticks too big for the cavity. Here, for instance, +each morning in turning over the litter of fallen +material I picked up sticks measuring from four or +five to seven feet in length. These very long sticks +were so slender and dry that the bird was able to +lift and to fly with them; therefore, to his corvine +mind, they were suitable for his purpose. It comes +to this: the daw knows a stick when he sees one, +but the only way of testing its usefulness to him is +to pick it up in his beak, then to try to fly with it. +If the stick is six feet long and the cavity will only +admit one of not more than eighteen inches, he discovers +his mistake only on getting home. The +question arises: Does he continue all his life long +repeating this egregious blunder? One can hardly +believe that an old, experienced bird can go on from +day to day and year to year wasting his energies +in gathering and carrying building materials that +will have to be thrown away in the end—that he is, +in fact, mentally on a level with the great mass of +meaner beings who forget nothing and learn nothing. +It is not to be doubted that the daw was once a +builder in trees, like all his relations, with the exception +of the cliff-breeding chough. He is even +capable of reverting to the original habit, as I know +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg_64]</a></span> +from an instance which has quite recently come to +my knowledge. In this case a small colony of daws +have been noticed for several years past breeding +in stick nests placed among the clustering foliage +of a group of Scotch firs. This colony may have +sprung from a bird hatched and reared in the nest +of a carrion crow or magpie. Still, the habit of +breeding in holes must be very ancient, and +considering that the jackdaw is one of the +most intelligent of our birds, one cannot but be +astonished at the rude, primitive, blundering way +in which the nest-building work is generally performed. +The most we can see by carefully watching +a number of birds at work is that there appears +to be some difference with regard to intelligence +between bird and bird. Some individuals blunder +less than others; it is possible that these have +learned something from experience; but if that be +so, their better way is theirs only, and their young +will not inherit it.</p> + +<p>One morning at Wells as I stood on the cathedral +green watching the birds at their work, I witnessed +a rare and curious scene—one amazing to an ornithologist. +A bird dropped a stick—an incident +that occurred a dozen times or oftener any minute +at that busy time; but in this instance the bird +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg_65]</a></span> +had no sooner let the stick fall than he rushed down +after it to attempt its recovery, just as one may see +a sparrow drop a feather or straw, and then dart +down after it and often recover it before it touches +the ground. The heavy stick fell straight and fast +on to the pile of sticks already lying on the pavement, +and instantly the daw was down and had it in his +beak, and thereupon laboriously flew up to his +nesting-place, which was forty to fifty feet high. +At the moment that he rushed down after the falling +stick two other daws that happened to be standing +on ledges above dropped down after him, and copied +his action by each picking up a stick and flying with +it to their nests. Other daws followed suit, and in +a few minutes there was a stream of descending and +ascending daws at that spot, every ascending bird +with a stick in his beak. It was curious to see that +although sticks were lying in hundreds on the pavement +along the entire breadth of the west front, the +daws continued coming down only at that spot +where the first bird had picked up the stick he +had dropped. By and by, to my regret, the birds +suddenly took alarm at something and rose up, and +from that moment not one descended.</p> + +<p>Presently the man came round with his rake and +broom and barrow to tidy up the place. Before +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg_66]</a></span> +beginning his work he solemnly made the following +remark: "Is it not curious, sir, considering the +distance the birds go to get their sticks, and the +work of carrying them, that they never, by any +chance, think to come down and pick up what they +have dropped!" I replied that I had heard the same +thing said before, and that it was in all the books; +and then I told him of the scene I had just witnessed. +He was very much surprised, and said that such a +thing had never been witnessed before at that place. +It had a disturbing effect on him, and he appeared +to me to resent this departure from their old ancient +conservative ways on the part of the cathedral +birds.</p> + +<p>For many mornings after I continued to watch +the daws until the nest-building was finished, without +witnessing any fresh outbreak of intelligence +in the colony: they had once more shaken down +into the old inconvenient traditional groove, to the +manifest relief of the man with the broom and +barrow.</p> + +<p>Bath, like Wells, is a city that has a considerable +amount of nature in its composition, and is set down +in a country of hills, woods, rocks and streams, +and is therefore, like the other, a city loved by +daws and by many other wild birds. It is a town +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg_67]</a></span> +built of white stone in the hollow of an oblong basin, +with the river Avon flowing through it; and though +perhaps too large for perfect beauty, it is exceedingly +pleasant. Its "stone walls do not a prison make," +since they do not shut you out from rural sights and +sounds: walking in almost any street, even in the +lowest part, in the busiest, noisiest centre of the +town, you have but to lift your eyes to see a green +hill not far away; and viewed from the top of one +of these hills that encircle it, Bath, in certain favourable +states of the atmosphere, wears a beautiful +look. One afternoon, a couple of miles out, I was +on the top of Barrow Hill in a sudden, violent storm +of rain and wind; when the rain ceased, the sun +burst out behind me, and the town, rain-wet and sun-flushed, +shone white as a city built of whitest marble +against the green hills and black cloud on the farther +side. Then on the slaty blackness appeared a complete +and most brilliant rainbow, on one side streaming +athwart the green hill and resting on the centre +of the town, so that the high, old, richly-decorated +Abbey Church was seen through a band of green +and violet mist. That storm and that rainbow, +seen by chance, gave a peculiar grace and glory to +Bath, and the bright, unfading picture it left in +memory has perhaps become too much associated +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg_68]</a></span> +in my mind with the thought of Bath, and has given +me an exaggerated idea of its charm.</p> + +<p>When staying in Bath in the winter of 1898-9 I +saw a good deal of bird life even in the heart of the +town. At the back of the house I lodged in, in New +King Street, within four minutes' walk of the Pump +Room, there was a strip of ground called a garden, +but with no plants except a few dead stalks and +stumps and two small leafless trees. Clothes-lines +were hung there, and the ground was littered with +old bricks and rubbish, and at the far end of the strip +there was a fowl-house with fowls in it, a small shed, +and a wood-pile. Yet to this unpromising-looking +spot came a considerable variety of birds. Starlings, +sparrows, and chaffinches were the most numerous, +while the blackbird, thrush, robin, hedge-sparrow +and wren were each represented by a pair. The +wrens lived in the wood-pile, and were the only +members of the little feathered community that did +not join the others at table when crumbs and scraps +were thrown out.</p> + +<p>It was surprising to find all or most of these birds +evidently wintering on that small plot of ground in the +middle of the town, solely for the sake of the warmth +and shelter it afforded them, and the chance crumbs +that came in their way. It is true that I fed them +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg_69]</a></span> +regularly, but they were all there before I came. +Yet it was not an absolutely safe place for them, +being much infested by cats, especially by a big +black one who was always on the prowl, and who +had a peculiarly murderous gleam in his luminous +yellow orbs when he crouched down to watch or +attempted to stalk them. One could not but +imagine that the very sight of such eyes in that +black, devilish face would have been enough to +freeze their blood with sudden terror, and make +them powerless to fly from him. But it was not +so: he could neither fascinate nor take them by +surprise. No sooner would he begin to practise +his wiles than all the population would be up in +arms—the loud, sharp summons of the blackbird +sounding first; then the starlings would chatter +angrily, the thrush scream, the chaffinches begin +to <i>pink-pink</i> with all their might, and the others +would join in, even the small hideling wrens coming +out of their fortress of faggots to take part in the +demonstration. Then puss would give it up and +go away, or coil himself up and go to sleep on the +sloping roof of the tiny shed or in some other sheltered +spot; peace and quiet would once more settle on +the little republic, and the birds would be content +to dwell with their enemy in their midst in full sight +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg_70]</a></span> +of them, so long as he slept or did not watch them +too narrowly.</p> + +<p>Finding that blue tits were among the visitors +at the back, I hung up some lumps of suet and a +cocoa-nut to the twigs of the bushes. The suet +was immediately attacked, but judging from the +suspicious way in which they regarded the round +brown object swinging in the wind, the Bath tits +had never before been treated to a cocoa-nut. +But though suspicious, it was plain that the singular +object greatly excited their curiosity. On the +second day they made the discovery that it was a +new and delightful dish invented for the benefit +of the blue tits, and from that time they were at it +at all hours, coming and going from morning till +night. There were six of them, and occasionally +they were all there at once, each one anxious to +secure a place, and never able when he got one to +keep it longer than three or four seconds at a time. +Looking upon them from an upper window, as they +perched against and flitted round and round the +suspended cocoa-nut, they looked like a gathering +of very large pale-blue flies flitting round and feeding +on medlar.</p> + +<p>No doubt the sparrow is the most abundant +species in Bath—I have got into a habit of not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg_71]</a></span> +noticing that bird, and it is as if I did not see him; +but after him the starling is undoubtedly the most +numerous. He is, we know, increasing everywhere, +but in no other town in England have I +found him in such numbers. He is seen in flocks +of a dozen to half a hundred, busily searching for +grubs on every lawn and green place in and round +the town, and if you go up to some elevated spot +so as to look down upon Bath, you will see flocks +of starlings arriving and departing at all points. +As you walk the streets their metallic <i>clink-clink-clink</i> +sounds from all quarters—small noises which +to most men are lost among the louder noises of a +populous town. It is as if every house had a peal +of minute bells hidden beneath the tiles or slates +of the roof, or among the chimney-pots, that they +were constantly being rung, and that every bell +was cracked.</p> + +<p>The ordinary or unobservant person sees and +hears far more of the jackdaw than of any other +bird in Bath. Daws are seen and heard all over +the town, but are most common about the Abbey, +where they soar and gambol and quarrel all day +long, and when they think that nobody is looking, +drop down to the streets to snatch up and carry +off any eatable-looking object that catches their eye. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg_72]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was here at this central spot, while I stood one +day idly watching the birds disporting themselves +about the Abbey and listened to their clamour, that +certain words of Ruskin came into my mind, and I +began to think of them not merely with admiration, +as when I first read them long ago, but critically.</p> + +<p>Ruskin, one of our greatest prose writers, is +usually at his best in the transposition of pictures +into words, his descriptions of what he has seen, +in nature and art, being the most perfect examples +of "word painting" in the language. Here his +writing is that of one whose vision is not merely, +as in the majority of men, the most important and +intellectual of the senses, but so infinitely more +important than all the others, and developed and +trained to so extraordinary a degree, as to make +him appear like a person of a single sense. We +may say that this predominant sense has caused, +or fed upon, the decay of the others. This is to +me a defect in the author I most admire; for +though he makes me see, and delight in seeing, that +which was previously hidden, and all things gain in +beauty and splendour, I yet miss something from +the picture, just as I should miss light and colour +from a description of nature, however beautifully +written, by a man whose sense of sight was nothing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg_73]</a></span> +or next to nothing to him, but whose other senses +were all developed to the highest state of perfection.</p> + +<p>No doubt Ruskin is, before everything, an artist: +in other words, he looks at nature and all visible +things with a purpose, which I am happily without: +and the reflex effect of his purpose is to make nature +to him what it can never appear to me—a painted +canvas. But this subject, which I have touched +on in a single sentence, demands a volume.</p> + +<p>Ruskin wrote of the cathedral daws, "That drift +of eddying black points, now closing, now scattering, +now settling suddenly into invisible places +among the bosses and flowers, the crowd of restless +birds that fill the whole square with that strange +clangour of theirs, so harsh and yet so soothing." +For it seemed to me that he had seen the birds but +had not properly heard them; or else that to his +mind the sound they made was of such small consequence +in the effect of the whole scene—so insignificant +an element compared with the sight +of them—that it was really not worth attending +to and describing accurately.</p> + +<p>Possibly, in this particular case, when in speaking +of the daws he finished his description by throwing +in a few words about their voices, he was thinking +less of the impression on his own mind, presumably +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg_74]</a></span> +always vague about natural sounds, than of what +the poet Cowper had said in the best passage in +his best work about "sounds harsh and inharmonious +in themselves," which are yet able to +produce a soothing effect on us on account of the +peaceful scenes amid which they are heard.</p> + +<p>Cowper's notion of the daw's voice, by the way, +was just as false as that expressed by Ruskin, as +we may find in his paraphrase of Vincent Bourne's +lines to that bird:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +There is a bird that by his coat,<br /> +And by the hoarseness of his note<br /> +Might be supposed a crow.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Now the daw is capable at times of emitting +both hoarse and harsh notes, and the same may +perhaps be said of a majority of birds; but his +usual note—the cry or caw varied and inflected +a hundred ways, which we hear every day and all +day long where daws abound—is neither harsh +like the crow's, nor hoarse like the rook's. It is, +in fact, as unlike the harsh, grating caw of the +former species as the clarion call of the cock is +unlike the grunting of swine. It may not be described +as bell-like nor metallic, but it is loud and +clear, with an engaging wildness in it, and, like +metallic sounds, far-reaching; and of so good +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg_75]</a></span> +a quality that very little more would make it ring +musically.</p> + +<p>Sometimes when I go into this ancient abbey +church, or into some cathedral, and seating myself, +and looking over a forest of bonnets, see a pale +young curate with a black moustache, arrayed in +white vestments, standing before the reading-desk, +and hear him gabbling some part of the Service +in a continuous buzz and rumble that roams like +a gigantic blue-bottle through the vast dim interior, +then I, not following him—for I do not know where +he is, and cannot find out however much I should +like to—am apt to remember the daws out of doors, +and to think that it would be well if that young +man would but climb up into the highest tower, +or on to the roof, and dwell there for the space of a +year listening to them; and that he would fill his +mouth with polished pebbles, and medals, and coins +and seals and seal-rings, and small porcelain cats and +dogs, and little silver pigs, and other objects from +the chatelaines of his lady admirers, and strive to +imitate that clear, penetrating sound of the bird's voice, +until he had mastered the rare and beautiful arts of +voice production and distinct understandable speech.</p> + +<p>To go back to Cowper—the poet who has been +much in men's thoughts of late, and who appears +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg_76]</a></span> +to us as perhaps the most modern-minded of those +who ceased to live a century ago. Undoubtedly +he was as bad a naturalist as any singer before or +after him, and as any true poet has a perfect right +to be. As bad, let us say, as Shakespeare and +Wordsworth and Tennyson. He does not, it is +true, confound the sparrow and hedge-sparrow +like Wordsworth, nor confound the white owl with +the brown owl like Tennyson, nor puzzle the ornithologist +with a "sea-blue bird of March." But we +must not forget that he addressed some verses to +a nightingale heard on New Year's Day. It is clear +that he did not know the crows well, for in a letter +of May 10, 1780, to his friend Newton, he writes: +"A crow, rook, or raven, has built a nest in one +of the young elm-trees, at the side of Mrs Aspray's +orchard." But when he wrote those words—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +Sounds inharmonious in themselves, and harsh,<br /> +Yet heard in scenes where peace for ever reigns,<br /> +And only there, please highly for their sake—<br /> +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">words which I have suggested misled Ruskin, and +have certainly misled others—he, Cowper, knew +better. His real feeling, and better and wiser +thought, is expressed in one of his incomparable +letters (Hayley, vol. ii. p. 230)—</div> + +<p>"My green-house is never so pleasant as when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg_77]</a></span> +we are just on the point of surrendering it.... I +sit with all the windows and the door wide open, +and am regaled with the scent of every flower in +a garden as full of flowers as I have known how +to make it. We keep no bees, but if I lived in a +hive I could hardly have more of their music. All +the bees in the neighbourhood resort to a bed of +mignonette opposite to the window, and pay me +for the honey they get out of it by a hum, which, +though rather monotonous, is as agreeable to my +ears as the whistling of my linnets. All the sounds +that nature utters are delightful, at least in this +country. I should not perhaps find the roaring +of lions in Africa, or of bears in Russia, very pleasing; +but I know no beast in England whose voice +I do not account as musical, save and except always +the braying of an ass. The notes of all our birds +and fowls please me, without one exception. I +should not indeed think of keeping a goose in a +cage that I might hang him up in the parlour for +the sake of his melody, but a goose upon a common, +or in a farmyard, is no bad performer; and as to +insects, if the black beetle, and beetles indeed of +all hues, will keep out of my way, I have no objection +to any of the rest; on the contrary, in whatever +key they sing, from the gnat's fine treble to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg_78]</a></span> +the bass of the bumble-bee, I admire all. Seriously, +however, it strikes me as a very observable instance +of providential kindness to men, that such an exact +accord has been contrived between his ear and the +sounds with which, at least in a rural situation, +it is almost every moment visited."</p> + +<p>Who has not felt the truth of this saying, that +all natural sounds heard in their proper surroundings +are pleasing; that even those which we call +harsh do not distress, jarring or grating on our +nerves, like artificial noises! The braying of the +donkey was to Cowper the one exception in animal +life; but he never heard it in its proper conditions. +I have often listened to it, and have been deeply +impressed, in a wild, silent country, in a place +where herds of semi-wild asses roamed over the +plains; and the sound at a distance had a wild +expression that accorded with the scene, and owing +to its much greater power effected the mind +more than the trumpeting of wild swans, and shrill +neighing of wild horses, and other far-reaching +cries of wild animals.</p> + +<p>About the sounds emitted by geese in a state +of nature, and the effect produced on the mind, +I shall have something to say in a chapter on that +bird.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="EARLY_SPRING_IN_SAVERNAKE_FOREST" id="EARLY_SPRING_IN_SAVERNAKE_FOREST"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg_79]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER IV</div> + +<div class="caption2">EARLY SPRING IN SAVERNAKE FOREST</div> + +<p>When the spring-feeling is in the blood, infecting +us with vague longings for we know not what; +when we are restless and seem to be waiting for +some obstruction to be removed—blown away by +winds, or washed away by rains—some change +that will open the way to liberty and happiness,—the +feeling not unfrequently takes a more or +less definite form: we want to go away somewhere, +to be at a distance from our fellow-beings, and +nearer, if not to the sun, at all events to wild nature. +At such times I think of all the places where I +should like to be, and one is Savernake; and +thither in two following seasons I have gone to +ramble day after day, forgetting the world and +myself in its endless woods.</p> + +<p>It is not that spring is early there; on the contrary, +it is actually later by many days than in the +surrounding country. It is flowerless at a time +when, outside the forest, on southern banks and +by the hedge-side, in coppices and all sheltered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg_80]</a></span> +spots, the firstlings of the year are seen—purple +and white and yellow. The woods, which are +composed almost entirely of beech and oak, are +leafless. The aspect on a dull cold day is somewhat +cheerless. On the other hand, there is that +largeness and wildness which accord with the spring +mood; and there are signs of the coming change +even in the greyest weather. Standing in some +wide green drive or other open space, you see all +about you acres on acres, miles on miles, of majestic +beeches, and their upper branches and network of +terminal twigs, that look at a distance like heavy +banked-up clouds, are dusky red and purple with +the renewed life that is surging in them. There +are jubilant cries of wild creatures that have felt +the seasonal change far more keenly than we are +able to feel it. Above everything, we find here +that solitariness and absence of human interest +now so rare in England. For albeit social creatures +in the main, we are yet all of us at times hermits +in heart, if not exactly wild men of the woods; +and that solitude which we create by shutting +ourselves from the world in a room or a house, is +but a poor substitute—nay, a sham: it is to immure +ourselves in a cage, a prison, which hardly +serves to keep out the all-pervading atmosphere +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg_81]</a></span> +of miserable conventions, and cannot refresh and +invigorate us. There are seasons and moods when +even the New Forest does not seem sufficiently +remote from life: in its most secluded places one +is always liable to encounter a human being, an +old resident, going about in the exercise of his +commoner's rights; or else his ponies or cows or +swine. These last, if they be not of some improved +breed, may have a novel or quaint aspect, as of +wild creatures, but the appearance is deceptive; +as you pass they lift their long snouts from grubbing +among the dead leaves to salute you with +a too familiar grunt—an assurance that William +Rufus is dead, and all is well; that they are domestic, +and will spend their last days in a stye, +and end their life respectably at the hands of the +butcher.</p> + +<p>At Savernake there is nothing so humanised as +the pig, even of the old type; you may roam for +long hours and see no man and no domestic animal. +You have heard that this domain is the property +of some person, but it seems like a fiction. The +forest is nature's and yours. There you are at +liberty to ramble all day unchallenged by any one; +to walk, and run to warm yourself; to disturb a +herd of red deer, or of fallow deer, which are more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg_82]</a></span> +numerous; to watch them standing still to gaze +back at you, then all with one impulse move rapidly +away, showing their painted tails, keeping a kind +of discipline, row behind row, moving over the +turf with that airy tripping or mincing gait that +strikes you as quaint and somewhat bird-like. +Or you may coil yourself up, adder-like, beside +a thick hawthorn bush, or at the roots of a giant +oak or beech, and enjoy the vernal warmth, while +outside of your shelter the wind blows bleak and +loud.</p> + +<p>To lie or sit thus for an hour at a time listening +to the wind is an experience worth going far to +seek. It is very restorative. That is a mysterious +voice which the forest has: it speaks to us, and +somehow the life it expresses seems nearer, more +intimate, than that of the sea. Doubtless because +we are ourselves terrestrial and woodland in our +origin; also because the sound is infinitely more +varied as well as more human in character. There +are sighings and moanings, and wails and shrieks, +and wind-blown murmurings, like the distant confused +talking of a vast multitude. A high wind +in an extensive wood always produces this effect +of numbers. The sea-like sounds and rhythmic +volleyings, when the gale is at its loudest, die away, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg_83]</a></span> +and in the succeeding lull there are only low, mysterious +agitated whisperings; but they are multitudinous; +the suggestion is ever of a vast concourse—crowds +and congregations, tumultuous or orderly, +but all swayed by one absorbing impulse, solemn +or passionate. But not always moved simultaneously. +Through the near whisperings a deeper, +louder sound comes from a distance. It rumbles +like thunder, falling and rising as it rolls onwards; +it is antiphonal, but changes as it travels +nearer. Then there is no longer demand and response; +the smitten trees are all bent one way, +and their innumerable voices are as one voice, +expressing we know not what, but always something +not wholly strange to us—lament, entreaty, +denunciation.</p> + +<p>Listening, thinking of nothing, simply living in +the sound of the wind, that strange feeling which +is unrelated to anything that concerns us, of the +life and intelligence inherent in nature, grows upon +the mind. I have sometimes thought that never +does the world seem more alive and watchful of +us than on a still, moonlight night in a solitary +wood, when the dusky green foliage is silvered by +the beams, and all visible objects and the white +lights and black shadows in the intervening spaces +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg_84]</a></span> +seem instinct with spirit. But it is not so. If +the conditions be favourable, if we go to our solitude +as the crystal-gazer to his crystal, with a +mind prepared, this faculty is capable of awaking +and taking complete possession of us by day as +well as by night.</p> + +<p>As the trees are mostly beeches—miles upon +miles of great trees, many of them hollow-trunked +from age and decay—the fallen leaves are an important +element in the forest scenery. They lie +half a yard to a yard deep in all the deep hollows +and dells and old water-worn channels, and where +the ground is sheltered they cover acres of ground—millions +and myriads of dead, fallen beech leaves. +These, too, always seem to be alive. It is a leaf +that refuses to die wholly. When separated from +the tree it has, if not immortality, at all events a +second, longer life. Oak and ash and chestnut +leaves fade from month to month and blacken, +and finally rot and mingle with the earth, while +the beech leaf keeps its sharp clean edges unbroken, +its hard texture and fiery colour, its buoyancy +and rustling incisive sound. Swept by the autumn +winds into sheltered hollows and beaten down by +rains, the leaves lie mingled in one dead, sodden +mass for days and weeks at a time, and appear +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg_85]</a></span> +ready to mix with the soil; but frost and sun suck +up the moisture and the dead come to life again. +They glow like fire, and tremble at every breath. +It was strange and beautiful to see them lying all +around me, glowing copper and red and gold when +the sun was strong on them, not dead, but sleeping +like a bright-coloured serpent in the genial warmth; +to see, when the wind found them, how they +trembled, and moved as if awakening; and as +the breath increased rose up in twos and threes +and half-dozens here and there, chasing one another +a little way, hissing and rustling; then all +at once, struck by a violent gust, they would be +up in thousands, eddying round and round in a +dance, and, whirling aloft, scatter and float among +the lofty branches to which they were once attached.</p> + +<p>On a calm day, when there was no motion in +the sunlit yellow leaves below and the reddish-purple +cloud of twigs above, the sounds of bird-life +were the chief attraction of the forest. Of +these the cooing of the wood-pigeon gave me the +most pleasure. Here some reader may remark +that this pigeon's song is a more agreeable sound +than its plain cooing note. This, indeed, is perhaps +thought little of. In most biographies of the +bird it is not even mentioned that he possesses +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg_86]</a></span> +such a note. Nevertheless I prefer it to the song. +The song itself—the set melody composed of half +a dozen inflected notes, repeated three or four +times with little or no variation—is occasionally +heard in the late winter and early spring, but at +this time of the year it is often too husky or croaky +to be agreeable. The songster has not yet thrown +off his seasonal cold; the sound might sometimes +proceed from a crow suffering from a catarrh. It +improves as the season advances. The song is +sometimes spelt in books:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<i>Coo-coó-roo, coó-coo-roo.</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>A lady friend assures me the right words of this +song are:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +Take <i>two</i> cows, David.<br /> +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">She cannot, if she tries, make the bird say anything +different, for these are the words she was +taught to hear in the song, as a child, in Leicestershire. +Of course they are uttered with a great +deal of emotion in the tone, David being tearfully, +almost sobbingly, begged and implored to take +two cows; the emphasis is very strong on the two—it +is apparently a matter of the utmost consequence +that David should not take one, nor three, +nor any other number of cows, but just two.</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg_87]</a></span></p> + +<p>In East Anglia I have been informed that what +the bird really and truly says is—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +My toe bleeds, Betty.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Many as are the species capable of articulate +speech, as we may see by referring to any ornithological +work, there is no bird in our woods whose +notes more readily lend themselves to this childish +fancy than the wood-pigeon, on account of the depth +and singularly human quality of its voice. The song +is a passionate complaint. One can fancy the human-like +feathered creature in her green bower, pleading, +upbraiding, lamenting; and, listening, we will +find it easy enough to put it all into plain language:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +O swear not you love me, for you cannot be true,<br /> +O perjured wood-pigeon! Go from me—woo<br /> +Some other! Heart-broken I rue<br /> +That softness, ah me! when you cooed your false coo.<br /> +Soar to your new love—the creature in blue!<br /> +Who, who would have thought it of you!<br /> +And perhaps you consider her beau—<br /> +Oo—tiful! O you are too too cru—<br /> +Bid them come shoo—oot me, do, do!<br /> +Would I had given my heart to a hoo—<br /> +Oo-ting wood-owl, cuckoo, woodcock, hoopoo!<br /> +</div> + +<p>One morning, at a village in Berkshire, I was +walking along the road, about twenty-five yards +from a cottage, when I heard, as I imagined, the +familiar song of the wood-pigeon; but it sounded +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg_88]</a></span> +too close, for the nearest trees were fifty yards +distant. Glancing up at the open window of an +upper room in the cottage, I made the discovery +that my supposed pigeon was a four-year-old child +who had recently been chastised by his mother +and sent upstairs to do penance. There he sat +by the open window, his face in his hands, crying, +not as if his heart would break, but seeming to +take a mournful pleasure in the rhythmical sound +of his own sobs and moans; they had settled into +a rising and falling <i>boo-hoo</i>, with regularly recurring +long and short notes, agreeable to the ear, +and very creditable to the little crier's musical +capacity. The incident shows how much the +pigeon's plaint resembles some human sounds.</p> + +<p>The plain cooing note is so common in this order +of birds that it may be regarded as the original +and universal pigeon language, out of which the +set songs have been developed, with, in most instances, +but little change in the quality of the +sound. In the multitude of species there are +voices clear, resonant, thick, or husky, or guttural, +hollow or booming, grating and grunting; but, +however much they vary, you can generally detect +the <i>pigeon</i> or <i>family</i> sound, which is more or less +human-like. In some species the set song has +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg_89]</a></span> +almost superseded the plain single note, which +has diminished to a mere murmur; in others, on +the contrary, there is no song at all, unless the +single unvarying <i>coo</i> can be called a song. In most +species in the typical genus Columba the plain coo +is quite distinct from the set song, but has at the +same time developed into a kind of second song, +the note being pleasantly modulated and repeated +many times. We find this in the rock-dove: the +curious guttural sounds composing its set song, +which <ins title='Correction: was "accompnay"'>accompany</ins> the love antics of the male, are +not musical, while the clear inflected cooing note +is agreeable to most ears. It is a pleasing morning +sound of the dove-cote; but the note, to be properly +appreciated, must be heard in some dimly lighted +ocean-cavern in which the bird breeds in its wild state. +The long-drawn, oft-repeated musical coo mingles +with and is heard above the murmuring and lapping +of the water beneath; the hollow chamber retains +and prolongs the sound, and makes it more sonorous, +and at the same time gives it something of mystery.</p> + +<p>Of all the cooing notes of the different species +I am acquainted with, that of the stock-dove, a +pigeon with no set song, is undoubtedly the most +attractive: next in order is that of the wood-pigeon +on account of its depth and human-like +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg_90]</a></span> +character. And it is far from monotonous. In +this wood in March I have often kept near a pigeon +for half an hour at a time hearing it uttering its +cooing note, repeated half a dozen or more times, +at intervals of three or four minutes; and again +and again the note has changed in length and +power and modulation. In the profound stillness, +on a windless day, of the vast beechen woods, these +sonorous notes had a singularly beautiful effect.</p> + +<p>After spending a short time in the forest, one +might easily get the idea that it is a sanctuary for +all the persecuted creatures of the crow family. +It is not quite that; the ravens have been destroyed +here as in most places; but the other birds +of that tribe are so numerous that even the most +bloodthirsty keeper might be appalled at the task +of destroying them. The clearance would doubtless +have been effected if this noble forest had +passed, as so nearly happened, out of the hands +of the family that have so long possessed it: that +calamity was happily averted. Not only are the +rooks there in legions, having their rookeries in +the park, but, throughout the forest, daws, carrion +crows, jays, and magpies are abundant. The jackdaws +outnumber all the other species (rooks included) +put together; they literally swarm, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg_91]</a></span> +their ringing, yelping cries may be heard at all +hours of the day in any part of the forest. In +March, when they are nesting, their numbers are +concentrated in those parts of the wood where +the trees, beech and oak, are very old and have +hollow trunks. In some places you will find many +acres of wood where every tree is hollow and apparently +inhabited. Yet there are doubtless some +hollow trees into which the daw is not permitted +to intrude. The wood-owl is common here, and +is presumably well able to hold his castle against +all aggressors. If one could but climb into the airy +tower, and, sitting invisible, watch the siege and +defence and the many strange incidents of the war +between these feathered foes! The daw, bold +yet cautious, venturing a little way into the dim +interior, with shrill threats of ejectment, ruffling +his grey pate and peeping down with his small, +malicious, serpent-like grey eyes; the owl puffing +out his tiger-coloured plumage, and lifting to the +light his pale, shield-like face and luminous eyes,—would +indeed be a rare spectacle; and then, +what hissings, snappings, and beak-clatterings, and +shrill, cat-like, and yelping cries! But, although +these singular contests go on so near us, a few +yards above the surface, Savernake might be in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg_92]</a></span> +misty mid-region of Weir, or on the slopes of Mount +Yanik, for all the chance we have of witnessing them.</p> + +<p>An experience I had one day when I was new +to the forest and used occasionally to lose myself, +gave me some idea of the numbers of jackdaws +breeding in Savernake. During my walk I came +to a spot where all round me and as far as could +be seen the trees were in an advanced state of +decay: not only were they hollow and rotten +within, but the immense horizontal branches and +portions of the trunks were covered with a thick +crop of fern, which, mixed with dead grass and +moss, gave the dying giants of the forest a strange, +ragged and desolate appearance. Many a time looking +at one of these trees I have been reminded +of Holman Hunt's forlorn Scapegoat. Here the +daws had their most populous settlement. As I +advanced, the dead twigs and leaves crackling +beneath my feet, they rose up everywhere, singly +and in twos and threes and half-dozens, darting +hurriedly away and disappearing among the trees +before me. The alarm-note they emit at such +times is like their usual yelping call subdued to a +short, querulous chirp; and this note now sounded +before me and on either hand, at a distance of about +one hundred yards, uttered continually by so many +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg_93]</a></span> +birds that their voices mingled into a curious sharp +murmur. Tired of walking, I sat down on a root +in the shelter of a large oak, and remained there +perfectly motionless for about an hour. But the +birds never lost their suspicion; all the time the +distant subdued tempest of sharp notes went on, +occasionally dying down until it nearly ceased, +then suddenly rising and spreading again until +I was ringed round with the sound. At length +the loud, sharp invitation or order to fly was given +and taken up by many birds; then, through the +opening among the trees before me, I saw them +rise in a dense flock and circle about at a distance: +other flocks rose on the right and left hands and +joined the first; and finally the whole mass come +slowly overhead as if to explore; but when the +foremost birds were directly over me the flock +divided into two columns, which deployed to the right +and left, and at a distance poured again into the trees. +There could not have been fewer than two thousand +birds in the flock that came over me, and they were +probably all building in that part of the forest.</p> + +<p>The daw, whether tame or distrustful of man, +is always interesting. Here I was even more interested +in the jays, and it was indeed chiefly for +the pleasure of seeing them, when they are best +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg_94]</a></span> +to look at, that I visited this forest. I had also +formed the idea that there was no place in England +where the jay could be seen to better advantage, +as they are, or until recently were, exceedingly +abundant at Savernake, and were not in constant +fear of the keeper and his everlasting gun. Here one +could witness their early spring assemblies, when the +jay, beautiful at all times, is seen at his very best.</p> + +<p>It is necessary to say here that this habit of the +jay does not appear to be too well known to our +ornithologists. When I stated in a small work +on <i>British Birds</i> a few years ago that jays had the +custom of congregating in spring, a distinguished +naturalist, who reviewed the book in one of the +papers, rebuked me for so absurd a statement, and +informed me that the jay is a solitary bird except +at the end of summer and in the early autumn, +when they are sometimes seen in families. If I +had not made it a rule never to reply to a critic, +I could have informed this one that I knew exactly +where his knowledge of the habits of the jay was +derived-that it dated back to a book published +ninety-nine years ago. It was a very good book, +and all it contains, some errors included, have been +incorporated in most of the important ornithological +works which have appeared during the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg_95]</a></span> +nineteenth century. But though my critic thus +"wrote it all by rote," according to the books, +"he did not write it right." The ancient error has +not, however, been repeated by all writers on the +subject. Seebohm, in his <i>History of British Birds</i>, +wrote: "Sometimes, especially in Spring, fortune may +favour you, and you will see a regular gathering of +these noisy birds.... It is only at this time that the +jay displays a social disposition; and the birds may +often be heard to utter a great variety of notes, some +of the modulations approaching almost to a song."</p> + +<p>The truth of the statement I have made that +most of our writers on birds have strictly followed +Montague in his account of the jay's habits, unmistakably +shows itself in all they say about the +bird's language. Montagu wrote in his famous +<i>Dictionary of Birds</i> (1802):—</p> + +<p>"Its common notes are various, but harsh; +will sometimes in spring utter a sort of song in a +soft and pleasing manner, but so low as not to be +heard at any distance; and at intervals introduce +the bleatings of a Lamb, mewing of a Cat, the note +of a Kite or Buzzard, hooting of an Owl, and even +the neighing of a Horse.</p> + +<p>"These imitations are so exact, even in a natural +wild state, that we have frequently been deceived."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg_96]</a></span> +This description somewhat amplified, and the +wording varied to suit the writer's style, has been +copied into most books on British birds—the lamb +and the cat, and the kite and the horse, faithfully +appearing in most cases. Yet it is certain that if +all the writers had listened to the jay's vocal performances +for themselves, they would have given a +different account. It is not that Montagu was wrong: +he went to nature for his facts and put down what +he heard, or thought he heard, but the particular +sounds which he describes they would not have heard.</p> + +<p>My experience is, that the same notes and phrases +are not ordinarily heard in any two localities; +that the bird is able to emit a great variety of +sounds—some highly musical; that he is also a +great mimic in a wild irregular way, mixing borrowed +notes with his own, and flinging them out anyhow, +so that there is no order nor harmony, and they +do not form a song.</p> + +<p>But he also has a real song, which may be heard +in any assembly of jays and from some male birds +after the congregating season is over and breeding +is in progress. This singing of the jay is somewhat +of a puzzle, as it is not the same song in any +two places, and gives one the idea that there is +no inherited and no traditional song in this species, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg_97]</a></span> +but that each bird that has a song has invented it +for himself. It varies from "a sort of low song," +as Montagu said,—a soft chatter and warble which +one can just hear at a distance of thirty or forty +yards,—to a song composed of several musical +notes harmoniously arranged, which may be heard +distinctly a quarter of a mile away. This set and +far-reaching song is rare, but some birds have a +single very powerful and musical note, or short +phrase, which they repeat at regular intervals by +way of song. If by following up the sound one +can get near enough to the tree where the meeting +is being held to see what is going on, it is most +interesting to watch the vocalist, who is like a +leader, and who, perched quietly, continues to +repeat that one powerful, unchanging, measured +sound in the midst of a continuous concert of more +or less musical sounds from the other birds.</p> + +<p>What I should very much like to know is, whether +these powerful and peculiar notes, phrases, and +songs of the jay, which are clearly not imitations +of other species, are repeated year after year by +the birds in the same localities, or are dropped for +ever or forgotten at the end of each season. It +is hard for me to find this out, because I do not +as a rule revisit the same places in spring, and on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg_98]</a></span> +going to a new or a different spot I find that the +birds utter different sounds. Again, the places +where jays assemble in numbers are very few and +far between. It is true, as an observant gamekeeper +once said to me, that if there are as many +as half a dozen to a dozen jays in any wood they +will contrive to hold a meeting; but when the +birds are few and much persecuted, it is difficult to +see and hear them at such times, and when seen and +heard, no adequate idea is formed of the beauty +of their displays, and the power and variety of +their language, as witnessed in localities where +they are numerous, and fear of the keeper's gun +has not damped their mad, jubilant spirits.</p> + +<p>In genial weather the jays' assembly may be +held at any hour, but is most frequently seen during +the early part of the day: on a fine warm +morning in March and April one can always count +on witnessing an assembly, or at all events of hearing +the birds, in any wood where they are fairly +common and not very shy. They are so vociferous +and so conspicuous to the eye during these +social intervals, and at the same time so carried +away by excitement, that it is not only easy to +find and see them, but possible at times to observe +them very closely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg_99]</a></span> +The loud rasping alarm- and angry-cry of the +jay is a sound familiar to every one; the cry used +by the bird to call his fellows together is somewhat +different. It resembles the cry or call of +the carrion crow, in localities where that bird is +not persecuted, when, in the love season, he takes +his stand on the top of the nesting-tree and calls +with a prolonged, harsh, grating, and exceedingly +powerful note, many times repeated. The jay's +call has the same grating or grinding character, +but is louder, sharper, more prolonged, and in a +quiet atmosphere may be heard distinctly a mile +away. The wood is in an uproar when the birds +assemble and scream in concert while madly pursuing +one another over the tall trees.</p> + +<p>At such times the peculiar flight of the jay is +best seen and is very beautiful. In almost all +birds that have short, round wings, as we may +see in our little wren, and in game birds, and the +sparrow-hawk, and several others, the wing-beats +are exceedingly rapid. This is the case with the +magpie; the quickness of the wing-beats causes +the black and white on the quills to mingle and +appear a misty grey; but at short intervals the +bird glides and the wings appear black and white +again. The jay, although his wings are so short +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg_100]</a></span> +and round, when not in a hurry progresses by +means of comparatively slow, measured wing-beats, +and looks as if swimming rather than flying.</p> + +<p>It is when the gathered birds all finally settle on +a tree that they are most to be admired. They +will sometimes remain on the spot for half an hour +or longer, displaying their graces and emitting +the extraordinary medley of noises mixed with +musical sounds. But they do not often sit still +at such times; if there are many birds, and the +excitement is great, some of them are perpetually +moving, jumping and flitting from branch to branch, +and springing into the air to wheel round or pass +over the tree, all apparently intent on showing +off their various colours—vinaceous brown, sky +blue, velvet black, and glistening white—to the +best advantage.</p> + +<p>Again and again, when watching these gatherings +at Savernake and at other places where jays +abound, I have been reminded of the description +given by Alfred Russel Wallace of the bird of +paradise assemblies in the Malayan region. Our +jay in some ways resembles his glorious Eastern +relation; and although his lustre is so much less, +he is at his very best not altogether unworthy of +being called the British Bird of Paradise.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="A_WOOD_WREN_AT_WELLS" id="A_WOOD_WREN_AT_WELLS"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg_101]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER V</div> + +<div class="caption2">A WOOD WREN AT WELLS</div> + +<p>East of Wells Cathedral, close to the moat surrounding +the bishop's palace, there is a beautifully +wooded spot, a steep slope, where the birds had +their headquarters. There was much to attract +them there: sheltered by the hill behind, it was +a warm corner, a wooded angle, protected by high +old stone walls, dear to the redstart, masses of +ivy, and thickets of evergreens; while outside +the walls were green meadows and running water. +When going out for a walk I always passed through +this wood, lingering a little in it; and when I +wanted to smoke a pipe, or have a lazy hour to +myself among the trees, or sitting in the sun, I +almost invariably made for this favourite spot. +At different hours of the day I was a visitor, and +there I heard the first spring migrants on their +arrival—chiff-chaff, willow wren, cuckoo, redstart, +blackcap, white-throat. Then, when April was +drawing to an end, I said, There are no more to +come. For the wryneck, lesser white-throat, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg_102]</a></span> +garden warbler had failed to appear, and the few +nightingales that visit the neighbourhood had +settled down in a more secluded spot a couple of +miles away, where the million leaves in coppice +and brake were not set a-tremble by the melodious +thunder of the cathedral chimes.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, there was another still to come, +the one I perhaps love best of all. On the last +day of April I heard the song of the wood wren, +and at once all the other notes ceased for a while +to interest me. Even the last comer, the mellow +blackcap, might have been singing at that spot +since February, like the wren and hedge-sparrow, +so familiar and workaday a strain did it seem to +have compared with this late warbler. I was +more than glad to welcome him to that particular +spot, where if he chose to stay I should have him +so near me.</p> + +<p>It is well known that the wood wren can only be +properly seen immediately after his arrival in this +country, at the end of April or early in May, when +the young foliage does not so completely hide his +slight unresting form, as is the case afterwards. +For he, too, is green in colour; like Wordsworth's +green linnet,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +A brother of the leaves he seems. +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg_103]</a></span> +There is another reason why he can be seen so +much better during the first days of his sojourn +with us: he does not then keep to the higher parts +of the tall trees he frequents, as his habit is later, +when the air is warm and the minute winged insects +on which he feeds are abundant on the upper sun-touched +foliage of the high oaks and beeches. On +account of that ambitious habit of the wood wren +there is no bird with us so difficult to observe; +you may spend hours at a spot, where his voice +sounds from the trees at intervals of half a minute +to a minute, without once getting a glimpse of his +form. At the end of April the trees are still very +thinly clad; the upper foliage is but an airy garment, +a slight golden-green mist, through which +the sun shines, lighting up the dim interior, and +making the bed of old fallen beech-leaves look +like a floor of red gold. The small-winged insects, +sun-loving and sensitive to cold, then hold their +revels near the surface; and the bird, too, prefers +the neighbourhood of the earth. It was so in the +case of the wood wren I observed at Wells, watching +him on several consecutive days, sometimes +for an hour or two at a stretch, and generally more +than once a day. The spot where he was always +to be found was quite free from underwood, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg_104]</a></span> +the trees were straight and tall, most of them with +slender, smooth boles. Standing there, my figure +must have looked very conspicuous to all the small +birds in the place; but for a time it seemed to me +that the wood wren paid not the slightest attention +to my presence; that as he wandered hither +and thither in sunlight and shade at his own sweet +will, my motionless form was no more to him than +a moss-grown stump or grey upright stone. By +and by it became apparent that the bird knew me +to be no stump or stone, but a strange living creature +whose appearance greatly interested him; +for invariably, soon after I had taken up my position, +his careless little flights from twig to twig and +from tree to tree brought him nearer, and then +nearer, and finally near me he would remain for +most of the time. Sometimes he would wander +for a distance of forty or fifty yards away, but +before long he would wander back and be with +me once more, often perching so near that the +most delicate shadings of his plumage were as +distinctly seen as if I had had him perched on my +hand.</p> + +<p>The human form seen in an unaccustomed place +always excites a good deal of attention among the +birds; it awakes their curiosity, suspicion, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg_105]</a></span> +alarm. The wood wren was probably curious +and nothing more; his keeping near me looked +strange only because he at the same time appeared +so wholly absorbed in his own music. Two or +three times I tried the experiment of walking to +a distance of fifty or sixty yards and taking up a +new position; but always after a while he would +drift thither, and I would have him near me, singing +and moving, as before.</p> + +<p>I was glad of this inquisitiveness, if that was +the bird's motive (that I had unconsciously fascinated +him I could not believe); for of all the +wood wrens I have seen this seemed the most +beautiful, most graceful in his motions, and untiring +in song. Doubtless this was because I saw +him so closely, and for such long intervals. His +fresh yellowish-green upper and white under plumage +gave him a wonderfully delicate appearance, +and these colours harmonised with the tender +greens of the opening leaves and the pale greys +and silvery whites of the slender boles.</p> + +<p>Seebohm says of this species: "They arrive +in our woods in marvellously perfect plumage. +In the early morning sun they look almost as delicate +a yellowish-green as the half-grown leaves +amongst which they disport themselves. In the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg_106]</a></span> +hand the delicate shading of the eye-stripe, and +the margin of the feathers of the wings and tail, +is exquisitely beautiful, but is almost all lost under +the rude handling of the bird-skinner."</p> + +<p>The concluding words sound almost strange; +but it is a fact that this sylph-like creature is sometimes +shattered with shot and its poor remains +operated on by the bird-stuffer. Its beauty "in +the hand" cannot compare with that exhibited +when it lives and moves and sings. Its appearance +during flight differs from that of other warblers +on account of the greater length and sharpness +of the wings. Most warblers fly and sing hurriedly; +the wood wren's motions, like its song, are slower, +more leisurely, and more beautiful. When moved +by the singing passion it is seldom still for more +than a few moments at a time, but is continually +passing from branch to branch, from tree to tree, +finding a fresh perch from which to deliver its song +on each occasion. At such times it has the appearance +of a delicately coloured miniature kestrel or +hobby. Most lovely is its appearance when it +begins to sing in the air, for then the long sharp +wings beat time to the first clear measured notes, +the prelude to the song. As a rule, however, the +flight is silent, and the song begins when the new +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg_107]</a></span> +perch is reached—first the distinct notes that are +like musical strokes, and fall faster and faster until +they run and swell into a long passionate trill—the +woodland sound which is like no other.</p> + +<p>Charming a creature as the wood wren appears +when thus viewed closely in the early spring-time, +he is not my favourite among small birds because +of his beauty of shape and colour and graceful +motions, which are seen only for a short time, but +on account of his song, which lasts until September; +though I may not find it very easy to give a reason +for the preference.</p> + +<p>It comforts me a little in this inquiry to remember +that Wordsworth preferred the stock-dove +to the nightingale—that "creature of ebullient +heart." The poet was a little shaky in his +ornithology at times; but if we take it that he +meant the ring-dove, his preference might still +seem strange to some. Perhaps it is not so very +strange after all.</p> + +<p>If we take any one of the various qualities which +we have agreed to consider highest in bird-music, +we find that the wood wren compares badly with +his fellow-vocalists—that, measured by this standard, +he is a very inferior singer. Thus, in variety, +he cannot compare with the thrush, garden-warbler, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg_108]</a></span> +sedge-warbler, and others; in brilliance and purity +of sound with the nightingale, blackcap, etc.; in +strength and joyousness with the skylark; in +mellowness with the blackbird; in sprightliness +with the goldfinch and chaffinch; in sweetness +with the wood-lark, tree-pipit, reed-warbler, the +chats and wagtails, and so on to the end of all the +qualities which we regard as important. What, +then, is the charm of the wood wren's song? The +sound is unlike any other, but that is nothing, +since the same can be said of the wryneck and +cuckoo and grasshopper warbler. To many persons +the wood wren's note is a bird-sound and nothing +more, and it may even surprise them to hear it +called a song. Indeed, some ornithologists have +said that it is not a song, but a call or cry, and it +has also been described as "harsh."</p> + +<p>I here recall a lady who sat next to me on the +coach that took me from Minehead to Lynton. +The lady resided at Lynton, and finding that +I was visiting the place for the first time, she +proceeded to describe its attractions with fluent +enthusiasm. When we arrived at the town, and +were moving very slowly into it, my companion +turned and examined my face, waiting to hear +the expressions of rapturous admiration that would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg_109]</a></span> +fall from my lips. Said I, "There is one thing +you can boast of in Lynton. So far as I know, +it is the only town in the country where, sitting +in your own room with the windows open, you can +listen to the song of the wood wren." Her face +fell. She had never heard of the wood wren, and +when I pointed to the tree from which the sound +came and she listened and heard, she turned away, +evidently too disgusted to say anything. She had +been wasting her eloquence on an unworthy subject—one +who was without appreciation for the +sublime and beautiful in nature. The wild romantic +Lynn, tumbling with noise and foam over its rough +stony bed, the vast wooded hills, the piled-up +black rocks (covered in places with beautiful red +and blue lettered advertisements), had been passed +by in silence—nothing had stirred me but the +chirping of a miserable little bird, which, for +all that she knew or cared, might be a sparrow! +When we got down from the coach a couple of +minutes later, she walked away without even +saying good-bye.</p> + +<p>There is no doubt that very many persons know +and care as little about bird voices as this lady; +but how about the others who do know and care +a good deal—what do they think and feel about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg_110]</a></span> +the song of the wood wren? I know two or three +persons who are as fond of the bird as I am; and +two or three recent writers on bird life have spoken +of its song as if they loved it. The ornithologists +have in most cases been satisfied to quote Gilbert +White's description of Letter XIX.: "This last +haunts only the tops of trees in high beechen woods, +and makes a sibilous grasshopper-like noise now +and then, at short intervals, shaking a little with +its wings when it sings."</p> + +<p>White was a little more appreciative in the case +of the willow wren when he spoke of its "joyous, +easy, laughing note"; yet the willow wren has +had to wait a long time to be recognised as one of +our best vocalists. Some years ago it was greatly +praised by John Burroughs, who came over from +America to hear the British songsters, his thoughts +running chiefly on the nightingale, blackcap, +throstle, and blackbird; and he was astonished +to find that this unfamed warbler, about which +the ornithologists had said little and the poets +nothing, was one of the most delightful vocalists, +and had a "delicious warble." He waxed indignant +at our neglect of such a singer, and cried +out that it had too fine a song to please the British +ear; that a louder coarser voice was needed to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg_111]</a></span> +come up to John Bull's standard of a good song. +No one who loves a hearty laugh can feel hurt at +his manner of expressing himself, so characteristic +of an American. Nevertheless, the fact remains +that only since Burroughs' appreciation of the +British song-birds first appeared, several years +ago, the willow wren, which he found languishing +in obscurity, has had many to praise it. At all +events, the merits of its song are now much more +freely acknowledged than they were formerly.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the wood wren's turn will come by and +by. He is still an obscure bird, little known, or +not known, to most people: we are more influenced +by what the old writers have said than we know +or like to believe; our preferences have mostly +been made for us. The species which they praised +and made famous have kept their places in popular +esteem, while other species equally charming, which +they did not know or said nothing about, are still +but little regarded. It is hardly to be doubted +that the wood wren would have been thought +more of if Willughby, the Father of British Ornithology, +had known it and expressed a high opinion +of its song; or that it would have had millions to +admire it if Chaucer or Shakespeare had singled it +out for a few words of praise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg_112]</a></span> +It is also probably the fact that those who are +not students, or close observers of bird life, seldom +know more than a very few of the most common +species; and that when they hear a note that +pleases them they set it down to one of the half-dozen +or three or four songsters whose names they +remember. I met with an amusing instance of +this common mistake at a spot in the west of England, +where I visited a castle on a hill, and was +shown over the beautiful but steep grounds by a +stout old dame, whose breath and temper were +alike short. It was a bright morning in May, and +the birds were in full song. As we walked through +the <ins title='Correction: was "shubbery"'>shrubbery</ins> a blackcap burst into a torrent of +wild heart-enlivening melody from amidst the +foliage not more than three yards away. "How +well that blackcap sings!" I remarked. "That +blackbird," she corrected; "yes, it sings well." +She stuck to it that it was a blackbird, and to prove +that I was wrong assured me that there were no +blackcaps there. Finding that I refused to acknowledge +myself in error, she got cross and dropped +into sullen silence; but ten or fifteen minutes +later she returned of her own accord to the subject. +"I've been thinking, sir," she said, "that +you must be right. I said there are no blackcaps +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg_113]</a></span> +here because I've been told so, but all the same +I've often remarked that the blackbird has two +different songs. Now I know, but I'm so sorry +that I didn't know a few days sooner." I asked +her why. She replied, "The other day a young +American lady came to the castle and I took her +over the grounds. The birds were singing the +same as to-day, and the young lady said, 'Now, +I want you to tell me which is the blackcap's song. +Just think,' she said, 'what a distance I have come, +from America! Well, when I was bidding good-bye +to my friends at home I said, "Don't you +envy me? I'm going to Old England to hear +the blackcap's song."' Well, when I told her we +had no blackcaps she was so disappointed; and +yet, sir, if what you say is right, the bird was +singing near us all the time!"</p> + +<p>Poor young lady from America! I should have +liked to know whose written words first fired her +brain with desire of the blackcap's song—a golden +voice in imagination's ear, while the finest home +voices were merely silvern. I think of my own +case; how in boyhood this same bird first warbled +to me in some lines of a poem I read; and how, +long years afterwards, I first heard the real song—beautiful, +but how unlike the song I had imagined! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg_114]</a></span> +—one bright evening in early May, at Netley Abbey. +But the poet's name had meanwhile slipped out of +memory; nothing but a vague impression remained +(and still persists) that he flourished and had great +fame about the beginning of the nineteenth century, +and that now his (or her) fame and works +are covered with oblivion.</p> + +<p>To return to the subject of this paper: the wood +wren—the secret of its charm. We see that, tried +by ordinary standards, many other singers are +its superiors; what, then, is the mysterious something +in its music that makes it to some of us +even better than the best? Speaking for myself, +I should say because it is more harmonious, or in +more perfect accord with the nature amid which +it is heard; it is the truer woodland voice.</p> + +<p>The chaffinch as a rule sings in open woods and +orchards and groves when there is light and life +and movement; but sometimes in the heart of a +deep wood the silence is broken by its sudden +loud lyric: it is unexpected and sounds unfamiliar +in such a scene; the wonderfully joyous ringing +notes are like a sudden flood of sunshine in a shady +place. The sound is intensely distinct and individual, +in sharp contrast to the low forest tones: +its effect on the ear is similar to that produced +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg_115]</a></span> +on the sight by a vivid contrast in colours, as by +a splendid scarlet or shining yellow flower blooming +solitary where all else is green. The effect +produced by the wood wren is totally different; +the strain does not contrast with, but is complementary +to, the "tremulous cadence low" of inanimate +nature in the high woods, of wind-swayed +branches and pattering of rain and lisping and +murmuring of innumerable leaves—the elemental +sounds out of which it has been fashioned. In a +sense it may be called a trivial and a monotonous +song—the strain that is like a long tremulous cry, +repeated again and again without variation; but +it is really beyond criticism—one would have to +begin by depreciating the music of the wind. It +is a voice of the beechen woods in summer, of the +far-up cloud of green, translucent leaves, with open +spaces full of green shifting sunlight and shadow. +Though resonant and far-reaching it does not strike +you as loud, but rather as the diffused sound of the +wind in the foliage concentrated and made clear—a +voice that has light and shade, rising and passing +like the wind, changing as it flows, and quivering +like a wind-fluttered leaf. It is on account of this +harmony that it is not trivial, and that the ear +never grows tired of listening to it: sooner would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg_116]</a></span> +it tire of the nightingale—its purest, most brilliant +tone and most perfect artistry.</p> + +<p>The continuous singing of a skylark at a vast +height above the green, billowy sun and shadow-swept +earth is an etherealised sound which fills +the blue space, fills it and falls, and is part of that +visible nature above us, as if the blue sky, the +floating clouds, the wind and sunshine, has something +for the hearing as well as for the sight. And +as the lark in its soaring song is of the sky, so the +wood wren is of the wood.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="THE_SECRET_OF_THE_WILLOW_WREN" id="THE_SECRET_OF_THE_WILLOW_WREN"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg_117]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER VI</div> + +<div class="caption2">THE SECRET OF THE WILLOW WREN</div> + +<p>The willow wren is one of the commonest and +undoubtedly the most generally diffused of the +British songsters. A summer visitor, one of the +earliest to arrive, usually appearing on the South +Coast in the last week in March; a little later he +may be met with in very nearly every wood, thicket, +hedge, common, marsh, orchard, and large garden +throughout the kingdom—it is hard to say, writes +Seebohm, where he is not found. Wherever there +are green perching-places, and small caterpillars, +flies and aphides to feed upon, there you will see +and hear the willow wren. He is a sweet and constant +singer from the date of his arrival until about +the middle of June, when he becomes silent for a +season, resuming his song in July, and continuing +it throughout August and even into September. +This late summer singing is, however, fitful and +weak and less joyous in character than in the spring. +But in spite of his abundance and universality, +and the charm of his little melody, he is not familiarly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg_118]</a></span> +known to the people generally, as they know +the robin redbreast, pied wagtail, dunnock, redstart, +wheatear, and stonechat. The name we call +him by is a very old one; it was first used in English +by Ray, in his translation of Willughby's <i>Ornithology</i>, +about three centuries ago; but it still +remains a book-name unknown to the rustic. Nor +has this common little bird any widely known +vernacular name. If by chance you find a country-man +who knows the bird, and has a name for it, +this will be one which is applied indiscriminately +to two, three, or four species. The willow wren, +in fact, is one of those little birds that are "seen +rather than distinguished," on account of its small +size, modest colouring, and its close resemblance +to other species of warblers; also on account of +the quiet, gentle character of its song, which is +little noticed in the spring and summer concert of +loud, familiar voices.</p> + +<p>One day in London during the late summer I +was amused and at the same time a little disgusted +at this general indifference to the delicate beauty +in a bird-sound which distinguishes the willow +wren even among such delicate singers as the +warblers: it struck me as a kind of ćsthetic hardness +of hearing. I heard the song in the flower +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg_119]</a></span> +walk, in Kensington Gardens, on a Sunday morning, +and sat down to listen to it; and for half an +hour the bird continued to repeat his song two or +three times a minute on the trees and bushes within +half a dozen yards of my seat. Just after I had +sat down, a throstle, perched on the topmost bough +of a thorn that projected over the walk, began his +song, and continued it a long time, heedless of the +people passing below. Now, I noticed that in +almost every case the person approaching lifted +his eyes to the bird above, apparently admiring the +music, sometimes even pausing for a moment in +his walk; and that when two or three came together +they not only looked up, but made some +remark about the beauty of the song. But from +first to last not one of all the passers-by cast a look +towards the tree where the willow wren was singing; +nor was there anything to show that the +sound had any attraction for them, although they +must have heard it. The loudness of the thrush +prevented them from giving it any attention, and +made it practically inaudible. It was like a pimpernel +blossoming by the side of a poppy, or dahlia, +or peony, where, even if seen, it would not be noticed +as a beautiful flower.</p> + +<p>In the chapter on the wood wren, I endeavoured +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg_120]</a></span> +to trace to its source the pleasurable feelings which +the song of that bird produces in me and in many +others—a charm exceeding that of many more +celebrated vocalists. In that chapter the song +of the willow wren was mentioned incidentally. +Now, these two—wood wren and willow wren—albeit +nearly related, are, in the character of their +notes, as widely different as it is possible for two +songsters to be; and when we listen attentively +to both, we recognise that the feeling produced +in us differs in each case—that it has a different +cause. In the case of the willow wren it might +be said off-hand that our pleasure is simply due +to the fact that it is a melodious sound, associated +in our minds with summer scenes. As much could +be said of any other migrant's song—nightingale, +tree-pipit, blackcap, garden warbler, swallow, and +a dozen more. But it does not explain the individual +and very special charm of this particular +bird—what I have ventured to call the secret of +the willow wren. After all, it is not a deeply hidden +secret, and has indeed been half guessed or hinted +by various writers on bird melody; and as it also +happens to be the secret of other singers besides +the willow wren, we may, I think, find in it an +explanation of the fact that the best singers do +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg_121]</a></span> +not invariably please us so well as some that are +considered inferior.</p> + +<p>The song of the willow wren has been called +singular and unique among our birds; and Mr +Warde Fowler, who has best described it, says +that it forms an almost perfect cadence, and adds, +"by which I mean that it descends gradually, +not, of course, on the notes of our musical scale, +by which no birds in their natural state would +deign to be fettered, but through fractions of one +or perhaps two of our tones, and without returning +upward at the end." Now, this arrangement +of its notes, although very rare and beautiful, does +not give the little song its highest ćsthetic value. +The secret of the charm, I imagine, is traceable +to the fact that there is distinctly something human-like +in the quality of the voice, its <i>timbre</i>. Many +years ago an observer of wild birds and listener +to their songs came to this country, and walking +one day in a London suburb he heard a small bird +singing among the trees. The trees were in an +enclosure and he could not see the bird, but there +would, he thought, be no difficulty in ascertaining +the species, since it would only be necessary to +describe its peculiar little song to his friends and +they would tell him. Accordingly, on his return +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg_122]</a></span> +to the house he proceeded to describe the song +and ask the name of the singer. No one could +tell him, and much to his surprise, his account of +the melody was received with smiles of amusement +and incredulity. He described it as a song that +was like a wonderfully bright and delicate human +voice talking or laughingly saying something rather +than singing. It was not until some time afterwards +that the bird-lover in a strange land discovered +that his little talker and laugher among +the leaves was the willow wren. In vain he had +turned to the ornithological works; the song he +had heard, or at all events the song as he had +heard it, was not described therein; and yet to this +day he cannot hear it differently—cannot dissociate +the sound from the idea of a fairy-like child with +an exquisitely pure, bright, spiritual voice laughingly +speaking in some green place.</p> + +<p>And yet Gilbert White over a century ago had +noted the human quality in the willow wren's voice +when he described it as an "easy, joyous, laughing +note." It is still better to be able to quote +Mr Warde Fowler, when writing in <i>A Year with +the Birds</i>, on the futile attempts which are often +made to represent birds' songs by means of our +notation, since birds are guided in their songs by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg_123]</a></span> +no regular succession of intervals. Speaking of +the willow wren in this connection, he adds: +"Strange as it may seem, the songs of birds may +perhaps be more justly compared with the human +voice when speaking, than with a musical instrument, +or with the human voice when singing." +The truth of this observation must strike any +person who will pay close attention to the singing +of birds; but there are two criticisms to be made +on it. One is that the resemblance of a bird's +song to a human voice when speaking is confined +to some or to a few species; the second is that +it is a mistake to think, as Mr Fowler appears to +do, that the resemblance is wholly or mainly due +to the fact that the bird's voice is free when singing—that, +like the human voice in talking, it is +not tied to tones and semitones. For instance, +we note this peculiarity in the willow wren, but +not in, say, the wren and chaffinch, although the +songs of these two are just as free, just as independent +of regular intervals as our voices when +speaking and laughing. The resemblance in a +bird's song to human speech is entirely due to the +human-like quality in the voice; for we find that +other songsters—notably the swallow—have a +charm similar to that of the willow wren, although +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg_124]</a></span> +the notes of the former bird are differently arranged, +and do not form anything like a cadence. Again, +take the case of the blackbird. We are accustomed +to describe the blackbird's voice as flute-like, +and the flute is one of the instruments which +most nearly resemble the human voice. Now, on +account of the leisurely manner in which the blackbird +gives out his notes, the resemblance to human +speech is not so pronounced as in the case of the +willow wren or swallow; but when two or three +or half a dozen blackbirds are heard singing close +together, as we sometimes hear them in woods +and orchards where they are abundant, the effect +is singularly beautiful, and gives the idea of a conversation +being carried on by a set of human beings +of arboreal habits (not monkeys) with glorified +voices. Listening to these blackbird concerts, I +have sometimes wondered whether or not they +produced the same effect on others' ears as on mine, +as of people talking to one another in high-pitched +and beautiful tones. Oddly enough, it was only +while writing this chapter that I by chance found +an affirmative answer to my question. Glancing +through Leslie's <i>Riverside Letters</i>, which I had +not previously seen, I came upon the following +remarks, quoted from Sir George Grove, in a letter +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg_125]</a></span> +to the author, on the blackbird's singing: "He +selects a spot where he is within hearing of a comrade, +and then he begins quite at leisure (not all +in a hurry like the thrush) a regular conversation. +'And how are you? Isn't this a fine day? Let us +have a nice talk,' etc., etc. He is answered in the +same strain, and then replies, and so on. Nothing +more thoughtful, more refined, more feeling, can +be conceived." In another passage he writes: +"I love them (the robins), but they fill a much +smaller part than the blackbird does in my heart. +To hear the blackbird talking to his mate a field +off, with deliberate, refined conversation, the very +acme of grace and courtesy, is perfectly splendid."</p> + +<p>There are two more common British songsters +that produce much the same effect as the willow +wren and blackbird; these are the swallow and +pied wagtail. They are not in the first rank as +melodists, and I can find no explanation of the +fact that they please me better than the great +singers other than their more human-like tones, +which to my hearing have something of an exceedingly +beautiful contralto sound. The swallow's +song is familiar to every one, but that of the wagtail +is not well known. The bird has two distinct +songs: one, heard oftenest in early spring, consists +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg_126]</a></span> +of a low rambling warble, with some resemblance +to the whinchat's song; it is the second +song, heard occasionally until late June, frequently +uttered on the wing—a torrent of loud, rapidly +uttered, and somewhat swallow-like notes—that +comes nearest in tone to the human voice, and has +the greatest charm.</p> + +<p>After these, we find other songsters with one or +two notes, or a phrase, human-like in quality, in +their songs. Of these I will only mention the +blackcap, linnet, and tree-pipit. The most beautiful +of the blackcap's notes, which come nearest +to the blackbird, have this human sound; and +certainly the most beautiful part of the linnet's +song is the opening phrase, composed of notes +that are both swallow-like and human-like.</p> + +<p>It may appear strange to some readers that I +put the tree-pipit, with his thin, shrill, canary-like +pipe, in this list; but his notes are not all of +this character; he is moreover a most variable +singer; and it happens that in some individuals +the concluding notes of the song have more of +that peculiar human quality than any other British +songster. No doubt it was a bird in which these +human-like, languishing notes at the close of the +song were very full and beautiful that inspired +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg_127]</a></span> +Burns to write his "Address to a Wood-lark." +The tree pipit is often called by that name in +Scotland, where the true wood-lark is not found.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +O stay, sweet warbling wood-lark, stay,<br /> +Nor quit for me the trembling spray,<br /> +A hopeless lover courts thy lay,<br /> + Thy soothing, fond complaining.<br /> +<br /> +Again, again that tender part,<br /> +That I may catch thy melting art;<br /> +For surely that would touch her heart<br /> + Who kills me wi' disdaining.<br /> +<br /> +Say, was thy little mate unkind,<br /> +And heard thee as the passing wind?<br /> +O nocht but love and sorrow joined<br /> + Sic notes o' wae could waken!<br /> +<br /> +Thou tells o' never-ceasing care,<br /> +O' speechless grief and dark despair;<br /> +For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair,<br /> + Or my poor heart is broken!<br /> +</div> + +<p>Much more could be said about these and other +species in the passerine order that have some resemblance, +distinct or faint, to the human voice +in their singing notes—an echo, as it were, of our +own common emotions, in most cases simply glad +or joyous, but sometimes, as in the case of the tree-pipit, +of another character. And even those species +that are furthest removed from us in the character +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg_128]</a></span> +of the sounds they emit have some notes that +suggest a highly brightened human voice. Witness +the throstle and nightingale. The last approaches +to the human voice in that rich, musical +throb, repeated many times with passion, which +is the invariable prelude to his song; and again, +in that "one low piping note, more sweet than +all," four times repeated in a wonderfully beautiful +crescendo. Who that ever listened to Carlotta +Patti does not remember sounds like these from +her lips? It was commonly said of her that her +voice was bird-like; certainly it was clarified and +brightened beyond other voices—in some of her +notes almost beyond recognition as a human voice. +It was a voice that had a great deal of the quality +of gladness in it, but less depth of human passion +than other great singers. Still, it was a human +voice; and, just as Carlotta Patti (outshining the +best of her sister-singers even as the diamond +outsparkles all other gems) rose to the birds in +her miraculous flights, so do some of the birds +come down to and resemble us in their songs.</p> + +<p>If I am right in thinking that it is the human +note in the voices of some passerine birds that +gives a peculiar and very great charm to their +songs, so that an inferior singer shall please us +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg_129]</a></span> +more than one that ranks high, according to the +accepted standard, it remains to ask why it should +be so. Why, I mean, should the mere likeness +to a human tone in a little singing-bird impart so +great a pleasure to the mind, when the undoubtedly +human-like voices of many non-passerine species +do not as a rule affect us in the same way? As +a matter of fact, we find in the multitude of species +that resemble us in their voices a few, outside of +the order of singers, that do give us a pleasure +similar to that imparted by the willow wren, +swallow, and tree-pipit. Thus, among British +birds we have the wood-pigeon, and the stock-dove; +the green woodpecker, with his laugh-like +cry; the cuckoo, a universal favourite on account +of his double fluty call; and (to those who are not +inclined to be superstitious) the wood-owl, a most +musical night-singer; and the curlew, with, in a +less degree, various other shore birds. But in a +majority of the larger birds of all orders the effect +produced is different, and often the reverse of +pleasant. Or if such sounds delight us, the feeling +differs in character from that produced by the +melodious singer, and is mainly due to that wildness +with which we are in sympathy expressed by +such sounds. Human-like voices are found among +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg_130]</a></span> +the auks, loons, and grebes; eagles and falcons; +cuckoos, pigeons, goatsuckers, owls, crows, rails, +ducks, waders, and gallinaceous birds. The cries +and shrieks of some among these, particularly +when heard in the dark hours, in deep woods and +marshes and other solitary places, profoundly impress +and even startle the mind, and have given +rise all the world over to numberless superstitious +beliefs. Such sounds are supposed to proceed +from devils, or from demons inhabiting woods +and waters and all desert places; from night-wandering +witches; spirits sent to prophesy death +or disaster; ghosts of dead men and women +wandering by night about the world in search of +a way out of it; and sometimes human beings +who, burdened with dreadful crimes or irremediable +griefs, have been changed into birds. The three +British species best known on account of their +supernatural character have very remarkable voices +with a human sound in them: the raven with his +angry, barking cry, and deep, solemn croak; the +booming bittern; and the white or church owl, +with his funereal screech.</p> + +<p>It is, I think, plain that the various sensations +excited in us by the cries, moans, screams, and the +more or less musical notes of different species, are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg_131]</a></span> +due to the human emotions which they express +or seem to express. If the voice simulates that +of a maniac, or of a being tortured in body or mind, +or overcome with grief, or maddened with terror, +the blood-curdling and other sensations proper +to the occasion will be experienced; only, if we +are familiar with the sound or know its cause, the +sensation will be weak. Similarly, if in some deep, +silent wood we are suddenly startled by a loud +human whistle or shouted "Hi!" although we +may know that a bird, somewhere in that waste +of foliage around us, uttered the shout, we yet +cannot help experiencing the feelings—a combination +of curiosity, amusement, and irritation—which +we should have if some friend or some human being +had hailed us while purposely keeping out of sight. +Finally, if the bird-sounds resemble refined, bright, +and highly musical human voices, the voices, let +us say, of young girls in conversation, expressive +of various beautiful qualities—sympathy, tenderness, +innocent mirth, and overflowing gladness +of heart—the effect will be in the highest degree +delightful.</p> + +<p>Herbert Spencer, in his account of the origin +of our love of music in his <i>Psychology</i>, writes: +"While the tones of anger and authority are harsh +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg_132]</a></span> +and coarse, the tones of sympathy and refinement +are relatively gentle and of agreeable timbre. +That is to say, the timbre is associated in experience +with the receipt of gratification, has acquired +a pleasure-giving quality, and consequently the +tones which in music have an allied timbre become +pleasure-giving and are called beautiful. Not +that this is the sole cause of their pleasure-giving +quality.... Still, in recalling the tones of instruments +which approach the tones of the human +voice, and observing that they seem beautiful in +proportion to their approach, we see that this +secondary ćsthetic element is important."</p> + +<p>As with instruments, so it is with bird voices; +in proportion as they approach the tones of the +human voice, expressive of sympathy, refinement, +and other beautiful qualities, they will seem beautiful—in +some cases even more beautiful than those +which, however high they may rank in other ways, +are yet without this secondary ćsthetic element.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="SECRET_OF_THE_CHARM_OF_FLOWERS" id="SECRET_OF_THE_CHARM_OF_FLOWERS"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg_133]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER VII</div> + +<div class="caption2">SECRET OF THE CHARM OF FLOWERS</div> + +<p>When my mind was occupied with the subject +of the last chapter—the human quality in some +sweet bird voices—it struck me forcibly that all +resemblances to man in the animal and vegetable +worlds and in inanimate nature, enter largely into +and strongly colour our ćsthetic feelings. We +have but to listen to the human tones in wind and +water, and in animal voices; and to recognise +the human shape in plant, and rock, and cloud, +and in the round heads of certain mammals, like +the seal; and the human expression in the eyes, +and faces generally, of many mammals, birds and +reptiles, to know that these casual resemblances +are a great deal to us. They constitute the <i>expression</i> +of numberless natural sights and sounds +with which we are familiar, although in a majority +of cases the resemblance being but slight, and to +some one quality only, we are not conscious of the +cause of the expression.</p> + +<p>It was principally with flowers, which excite +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg_134]</a></span> +more attention and give more pleasure than most +natural objects, that my mind was occupied in +this connection; for here it seemed to me that the +effect was similar to that produced on the mind +by sweet human-like tones in bird music. In +other words, a very great if not the principal charm +of the flower was to be traced to the human associations +of its colouring; and this was, in some cases, +more than all its other attractions, including beauty +of form, purity and brilliance of colour, and the +harmonious arrangement of colours; and, finally, +fragrance, where such a quality existed.</p> + +<p>We see, then, that there is an intimate connection +between the two subjects—human associations +in the colouring of flowers and in the voices of +birds; and that in both cases this association +constitutes, or is a principal element in, the <i>expression</i>. +This connection, and the fact that the +present subject was suggested and appeared almost +an inevitable outcome of the one last discussed, +must be my excuse for introducing a chapter on +flowers in a book on birds—or birds and man. But +an excuse is hardly needed. It must strike most +readers that a great fault of books on birds is, +that there is too much about birds in them, consequently +that a chapter about something else, which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg_135]</a></span> +has not exactly been dragged in, may come as a +positive relief.</p> + +<p>As the word expression which occurs with frequency +in this chapter was not understood in the +sense in which I used it on the first appearance +of the book, it may be well to explain that it is +not used here in its ordinary meaning as the quality +in a face, or picture, or any work of art, which +indicates thought or feeling. Here the word has +the meaning given to it by writers on the ćsthetic +sense as descriptive of the quality imparted to an +object by its associations. These may be untraceable: +we may not be conscious and as a rule we +are not conscious that any such associations exist; +nevertheless they are in us all the time, and with +what they add to an object may enhance and even +double its intrinsic beauty and charm.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<p>I have somewhere read a very ancient legend, +which tells that man was originally made of many +materials, and that at the last a bunch of wild +flowers was gathered and thrown into the mixture +to give colour to his eyes. It is a pretty story, +but might have been better told, since it is certain +that flowers which have delicate and beautiful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg_136]</a></span> +flesh-tints are attractive mainly on that account, +just as blue and some purples delight us chiefly +because of their associations with the human iris. +The skin, too, needed some beautiful colour, and +there were red as well as blue flowers in the bunch; +and the red flowers being most abundant in nature +and in greater variety of tints, give us altogether +more pleasure than their beautiful rivals in our +affection.</p> + +<p>The blue flower is associated, consciously or not, +with the human blue eye; and as the floral blue +is in all or nearly all instances pure and beautiful, +it is like the most beautiful human eye. This +association, and not the colour itself, strikes me +as the true cause of the superior attraction which +the blue flower has for most of us. Apart from +association blue is less attractive than red, orange, +and yellow, because less luminous; furthermore +green is the least effective background for such +a colour as blue in so small an object as a flower; +and, as a fact, we see that at a little distance the +blue of the flower is absorbed and disappears in +the surrounding green, while reds and yellows +keep their splendour. Nevertheless the blue has +a stronger hold on our affections. As a human +colour, blue comes first in a blue-eyed race because +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg_137]</a></span> +it is the colour of the most important feature, and, +we may say, of the very soul in man.</p> + +<p>Some purple flowers stand next in our regard +on account of their nearness in colour to the pure +blue. The wild hyacinth, blue-bottle, violet, and +pansy, and some others, will occur to every one. +These are the purple flowers in which blue predominates, +and on that account have the same +expression as the blue. The purples in which red +predominates are akin in expression to the reds, +and are associated with flesh-tints and blood. +And here it may be noted that the blue and blue-purple +flowers, which have the greatest charm for +us, are those in which not only the colour of the +eye but some resemblance in their form to the iris, +with its central spot representing the pupil, appears. +For example, the flax, borage, blue geranium, +periwinkle, forget-me-not, speedwell, pansy and +blue pimpernel, are actually more to us than some +larger and handsomer blue flowers, such as the +blue-bottle, vipers' bugloss, and succory, and of +blue flowers seen in masses.</p> + +<p>With regard to the numerous blue and purple-blue +flowers which we all admire, or rather for +which we all feel so great an affection, we find +that in many cases their very names have been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg_138]</a></span> +suggested by their human associations—by their +<i>expression</i>.</p> + +<p>Love-in-a-mist, angels' eyes, forget-me-not, and +heartsease, are familiar examples. Heartsease and +pansy both strike us as peculiarly appropriate to +one of our commonest and most universal garden +flowers; yet we see something besides the sympathetic +and restful expression which suggested +these names in this flower—a certain suggestion +of demureness, in fact, reminding those who have +seen Guido's picture of the "Adoration of the +Virgin," of one of his loveliest angels whose angelical +eyes and face reveal some desire for admiration +and love in the spectator. And that expression, +too, of the pansy named Love-in-Idleness, +has been described, coarsely or rudely it may be, +in some of its country names: "Kiss me behind +the garden gate," and, better (or worse) still, +"Meet-her-i'-th'-entry-kiss-her-i'-th'-buttery." Of this +order of names are None-so-pretty and Pretty +maids, Pretty Betsy, Kiss-me-quick. Even such +a name as Tears of the blood of Christ does not +sound extravagantly fanciful or startling when +we look at the glowing deep golden crimson of the +wall flower; nor of a blue flower, the germander +speedwell, such names as The more I see you the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg_139]</a></span> +more I love you, and Angels' tears, and Tears of +Christ, with many more.</p> + +<p>A writer on our wild flowers, in speaking of their +vernacular names of this kind, has said: "Could +we penetrate to the original suggestive idea that +called forth its name, it would bring valuable information +about the first openings of the human +mind towards nature; and the merest dream of +such a discovery invests with a strange charm the +words that could tell, if we could understand, so +much of the forgotten infancy of the human race."</p> + +<p>What a roll of words and what a mighty and +mysterious business is here made of a very simple +little matter! It is a charming example of the +strange helplessness, not to say imbecility, which +affects most of those who have been trained in our +mind-killing schools; trained not to think, but +taught to go for anything and everything they +desire to know to the books. If the books in the +British Museum fail to say why our ancestors +hundreds of years ago named a flower None-so-pretty +or Love-in-a-mist, why then we must be +satisfied to sit in thick darkness with regard to +this matter until some heaven-born genius descends +to illuminate us! Yet I daresay there is not a +country child who does not occasionally invent +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg_140]</a></span> +a name for some plant or creature which has +attracted his attention; and in many cases the +child's new name is suggested by some human association +in the object—some resemblance to be seen in +form or colour or sound. Not books but the light +of nature, the experience of our own early years, +the look which no person not blinded by reading +can fail to see in a flower, is sufficient to reveal all +this hidden wonderful knowledge about the first +openings of the heart towards nature, during the +remote infancy of the human race.</p> + +<p>From this it will be seen that I am not claiming +a discovery; that what I have called a secret of +the charm of flowers is a secret known to every +man, woman, and child, even to those of my own +friends who stoutly deny that they have any such +knowledge. But I think it is best known to children. +What I am here doing is merely to bring +together and put in form certain more or less vague +thoughts and feelings which I (and therefore all +of us) have about flowers; and it is a small matter, +but it happens to be one which no person has +hitherto attempted.</p> + +<p>It may be that in some of my readers' minds—those +who, like the sceptical friends I have mentioned, +are not distinctly conscious of the cause +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg_141]</a></span> +or secret of the expression of a flower—some doubt +may still remain after what has been said of the +blue and purple-blue blossom. Such a doubt +ought to disappear when the reds are considered, +and when it is found that the expression peculiar +to red flowers varies infinitely in degree, and is +always greatest in those shades of the colour which +come nearest to the most beautiful flesh-tints.</p> + +<p>When I say "beautiful flesh-tints" I am thinking +of the ćsthetic pleasure which we receive from +the expression, the associations, of the red flower. +The expression which delights is in the soft and +delicate shades; and in the texture which is sometimes +like the beautiful soft skin; but the <i>expression</i> +would exist still in the case of floral tints resembling +the unpleasant reds, or the reds which disgust +us, in the human face. And we most of us know +that these distressing hues are to be seen in some +flowers. I remember that I once went into a +florist's shop, and seeing a great mass of hard purple-red +cinerarias on a shelf I made some remark about +them. "Yes, are they not beautiful?" said the +woman in the shop. "No, I loathe the sight of +them," I returned. "So do I!" she said very +quickly, and then added that she called them beautiful +because she had to sell them. She, too, had no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg_142]</a></span> +doubt seen that same purple-red colour in the evil +flower called "grog-blossom," and in the faces of +many middle-aged lovers of the bottle, male and +female, who would perish before their time, to the +great relief of their kindred, and whose actions +after they were gone would not smell sweet and +blossom in the dust.</p> + +<p>The reds we like best in flowers are the delicate +roseate and pinky shades; they are more to us +than the purest and most luminous tints. And +here, as with bird notes which delight us on account +of their resemblance to fresh, young, highly musical +human voices, flowers please us best when they +exhibit the loveliest human tints—the apple blossom +and the bindweed, musk mallow and almond and +wild rose, for example. After these we are most +taken with the deeper but soft and not too luminous +reds—the red which we admire in the red horse-chestnut +blossom, and many other flowers, down +to the minute pimpernel. Next come the intense +rosy reds seen in the herb-robert and other wild +geraniums, valerian, red campion and ragged +robin; and this shade of red, intensified but still +soft, is seen in the willow-herb and foxglove, and, +still more intensified, in the bell- and small-leafed +heath. Some if not all of these pleasing reds have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg_143]</a></span> +purple in them, and there are very many distinctly +purple flowers that appeal to us in the same way +that red flowers do, receiving their expression from +the same cause. There is some purple colour in +most skins, and even some blue.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +The azured harebell, like thy veins, +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">is a familiar verse from <i>Cymbeline</i>; any one can +see the resemblance to the pale blue of that admired +and loved blossom in the blue veins of any person +with a delicate skin. Purples and purplish reds in +masses are mostly seen in young persons of delicate +skins and high colour in frosty weather in winter, +when the eyes sparkle and the face glows with the +happy sensations natural to the young and healthy +during and after outdoor exercise. The skin purples +and purple-reds here described are beautiful, and +may be matched to a nicety in many flowers; the +human purple may be seen (to name a very common +wild flower) in purple loosestrife and the large marsh +mallow, and in dozens and scores of other familiar +purple flowers; and the purple-red hue in many +richly coloured skins has its exact shade in common +hounds' tongue, and in other dark and purple-red +flowers. But we always find, I fancy, that the expression +due to human association in a purple flower +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg_144]</a></span> +is greatest when this colour (as in the human face) is +placed side by side or fades into some shade of red or +pink. I think we may see this even in a small +flower like the fumitory, in which one portion is +deep purple and all the rest of the blossoms a delicate +pink. Even when the red is very intense, +as in the common field poppy, the pleasing expression +of purple on red is very evident.</div> + +<p>To return to pure reds. We may say that just +as purples in flowers look best, or have a greater +degree of expression, when appearing in or with +reds, so do the most delicate rose and pink shades +appeal most to us when they appear as a tinge or +blush on white flowers. Probably the flower that +gives the most pleasure on account of its beautiful +flesh-tints of different shades is the Gloire de +Dîjon rose, so common with us and so universal a +favourite. Roses, being mostly of the garden, are +out of my line, but they are certainly glorious to +look at—glorious because of their associations, +their expression, whether we know it or not. One +can forgive Thomas Carew the conceit in his lines—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +Ask me no more where Jove bestows<br /> +When June is past, the fading rose,<br /> +For in your beauty's orient deep<br /> +These flowers as in their causes sleep. +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg_145]</a></span></p> +<div class="justify">But all reds have something human, even the most +luminous scarlets and crimsons—the scarlet verbena, +the poppy, our garden geraniums, etc.—although +in intensity they so greatly surpass the +brightest colour of the lips and the most vivid +blush on the cheek. Luminous reds are not, however, +confined to lips and cheeks: even the fingers +when held up before the eyes to the sun or to fire-light +show a very delicate and beautiful red; and +this same brilliant floral hue is seen at times in +the membrane of the ear. It is, in fact, the colour +of blood, and that bright fluid, which is the life, +and is often spilt, comes very much into the human +associations of flowers. The Persian poet, whose +name is best left unwritten, since from hearing +it too often most persons are now sick and tired +of it, has said,</div><br /> + +<div class="poem"> +I sometimes think that never blooms so red<br /> +The rose as where some buried Cćsar bled.<br /> +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">There is many and many a "plant of the blood +of men." Our most common Love-lies-bleeding +with its "dropping wells" of crimson serves to +remind us that there are numberless vulgar names +that express this resemblance and association. +The thought or fancy is found everywhere in poetic +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg_146]</a></span> +literature, in the fables of antiquity, in the tales +and folk-lore of all nations, civilised and barbarous.</div> + +<p>I think that we can more quickly recognise this +human interest in a flower, due to its colour, and +best appreciate its ćsthetic value from this cause, +when we turn from the blues, purples, and reds, +to the whites and the yellows. The feeling these +last give us is distinctly different in character from +that produced by the others. They are not like +us, nor like any living sentient thing we are related +to: there is no kinship, no human quality.</p> + +<p>When I say "no kinship, no human quality," +I refer to flowers that are entirely pure white or +pure yellow; in some dull or impure yellows, and +in white and yellow flowers that have some tinge +or mixture of red or purple, we do get the expression +of the red and purple flower. The crystalline +and snow white of the whitest flowers do indeed +resemble the white of the eyeballs and the teeth +in human faces; but we may see that this human +white colour by itself has no human association +in a flower.</p> + +<p>The whiteness of the white flower where there +is any red is never unhuman, probably because +a very brilliant red or rose colour on some delicate +skins causes the light flesh-tints to appear white +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg_147]</a></span> +by contrast, and is the complexion known as +"milk and roses." The apple-blossom is a beautiful +example, and the beloved daisy—the "wee, +modest, crimson-tipped flower," which would be +so much less dear but for that touch of human +crimson. This is the herb-Margaret of so many +tender and pretty legends, that has white for +purity and red for repentance. Even those who +have never read these legends and that prettiest, +most pathetic of all which tells of the daisy's origin, +find a secret charm in the flower. Among other +common examples are the rosy-white hawthorn, +wood anemone, bindweed, dropwort, and many +others. In the dropwort the rosy buds are seen +among the creamy white open flowers; and the +expression is always very marked and beautiful +when there is any red or purple tinge or blush on +cream-whites and ivory-whites. When we look from +the dropwort to its nearest relative, the common +meadow-sweet, we see how great a charm the touch +of rose-red has given to the first: the meadow-sweet +has no expression of the kind we are considering—no +human association.</p> + +<p>In pure yellow flowers, as in pure white, human +interest is wanting. It is true that yellow is a +human colour, since in the hair we find yellows +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg_148]</a></span> +of different shades—it is a pity that we cannot +find, or have not found, a better word than "shades" +for the specific differences of a colour. There is +the so-called tow, the tawny, the bronze, the simple +yellow, and the golden, which includes many +varieties, and the hair called carroty. But none +of these has the flower yellow. Richard Jefferies +tells us that when he placed a sovereign by the +side of a dandelion he saw how unlike the two +colours were—that, in fact, no two colours could +seem more unlike than the yellow of gold and the +yellow of the flower. It is not necessary to set a +lock of hair and any yellow flower side by side to +know how utterly different the hues are. The +yellow of the hair is like that of metals, of clay, +of stone, and of various earthy substances, and +like the fur of some mammals, and like xanthophyll +in leaf and stalk, and the yellow sometimes seen +in clouds. When Ossian, in his famous address +to the sun, speaks of his yellow hair floating on +the eastern clouds, we instantly feel the truth as +well as beauty of the simile. We admire the yellow +flower for the purity and brilliance of its colour, +just as we admire some bird notes solely for the +purity and brightness of the sound, however unlike +the human voice they may be. We also admire +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg_149]</a></span> +it in many instances for the exquisite beauty of +its form, and the beauty of the contrast of pure +yellow and deep green, as in the yellow flag, mimulus, +and numerous other plants. But however +much we may admire, we do not experience that +intimate and tender feeling which the blues and +reds inspire in us; in other words, the yellow +flower has not the expression which distinguishes +those of other colours. Thus, when Tennyson +speaks of the "speedwell's darling blue," we know +that he is right—that he expresses a feeling about +this flower common to all of us; but no poet would +make so great, so absurd a mistake as to describe +the purest and loveliest yellow of the most prized +and familiar wild flower—buttercup or kingcup, +yellow flag, sea poppy, marsh marigold, or broom, +or furze, or rock-rose, let us say—by such a word—the +word that denotes an intimate and affectionate +feeling—the feeling one cherishes for the loved +ones of our kind. Nor could that word of Tennyson +be properly used of any pure white flower—the +stitchwort for instance; nor of any white and +yellow flower like the Marguerite. But no sooner +do you get a touch of rose or crimson in the whitest +flower, as we see in the daisy and eyebright, than +you can say of it that it is a "dear" or a "darling" +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg_150]</a></span> +colour, and no one can find fault with the +expression.</p> + +<p>When we consider the dull and impure yellows +sometimes seen in flowers, and some soft yellows +seen in combination with pleasing wholesome reds, +as in the honeysuckle, we may find something +of the expression—the human association—in +yellow flowers. For there <i>is</i> yellow in the skin, +even in perfect health; it appears strongest on +the neck, and spread round to the throat and chin, +and is a warm buff, very <ins title='Correction: "beauitful"'>beautiful</ins> in some women; +but very little of this tint appears in the face. +When a tinge of this warm buffy yellow and creamy +yellow is seen mixed with warmer reds, as in the +Gloire de Dîjon rose, the effect is most beautiful +and the expression most marked. But the expression +in flowers of a pale dull, impure yellow, +where there is an expression, is unpleasant. It +is the yellow of unhealthy skins, of faces discoloured +by jaundice, dyspepsia, and other ailments. We +commonly say of such flowers that they are "sickly" +in colour, and the association is with sick and decaying +humanity. Gerarde, in describing such hues +in flowers, was fond of the word "overworn"; +and it was a very good word, and, like the one now +in use, is derived from the association. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg_151]</a></span></p> + +<p>It will be noted by those who are acquainted +with many flowers that I have given the names +of but few—it may be too few—as examples, and +that these are nearly all of familiar wild flowers. +My reason for not going to the garden is, that our +cultivated blooms are not only artificially produced, +and in some degree monstrosities, but they +are seen in unnatural conditions, in crowds and +masses, the various kinds too near together, and +in most cases selected on account of their gorgeous +colouring. The effect produced, however delightful +it may be in some ways, is confusing to those +simple natural feelings which flowers in a state of +nature cause in us.</p> + +<p>I confess that gardens in most cases affect me +disagreeably; hence I avoid them, and think and +know little about garden flowers. It is of course +impossible not to go into gardens. The large +garden is the greatly valued annexe of the large +house, and is as much or more to the mistress than +the coverts to the master; and when I am asked +to go into the garden to see and <ins title='Correction: was "adnire"'>admire</ins> all that +is there, I cannot say, "Madam, I hate gardens." +On the contrary, I must weakly comply and pretend +to be pleased. And when going the rounds +of her paradise my eyes light by chance on a bed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg_152]</a></span> +of tulips, or scarlet geraniums, or blue larkspurs, +or <ins title='Correction: was "destested"'>detested</ins> calceolarias or cinerarias—a great +patch of coloured flame springing out of a square +or round bed of grassless, brown, desolate earth—the +effect is more than disagreeable: the mass +of colour glares at and takes possession of me, and +spreads itself over and blots out a hundred delicate +and prized images of things seen that existed in +the mind.</p> + +<p>But I am going too far, and perhaps making +an enemy of a reader when I would much prefer +to have him (or her) for a friend.</p> + +<p>I have named few flowers, and those all the most +familiar kinds, because it seemed to me that many +examples would have had a confusing effect on +readers who do not intimately know many species, +or do not remember the exact colour in each case, +and are therefore unable to reproduce in their +minds the exact <i>expression</i>—the feeling which every +flower conveys. On the other hand, the reader +who knows and loves flowers, who has in his mind +the distinct images of many scores, perhaps of +two or three hundreds of species, can add to my +example many more from his own memory.</p> + +<p>There is one objection to the explanation given +here of the cause of the charm of certain flowers, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg_153]</a></span> +which will instantly occur to some readers, and +may as well be answered in advance. This view, +or theory, must be wrong, a reader will perhaps +say, because my own preference is for a yellow +flower (the primrose or daffodil, let us say), which +to me has a beauty and charm exceeding all other +flowers.</p> + +<p>The obvious explanation of such a preference +would be that the particular flower preferred is +intimately associated with recollections of a happy +childhood, or of early life. The associations will +have made it a flower among flowers, charged with +a subtle magic, so that the mere sight or smell of +it calls up beautiful visions before the mind's eye. +Every person bred in a country place is affected +in this way by certain natural objects and odours; +and I recall the case of Cuvier, who was always +affected to tears by the sight of some common +yellow flower, the name of which I have forgotten.</p> + +<p>The way to test the theory is to take, or think +of, two or three or half-a-dozen flowers that have +no personal associations with one's own early life—that +are not, like the primrose and daffodil in +the foregoing instance, sacred flowers, unlike all +others; some with and some without human colouring, +and consider the feeling produced in each +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg_154]</a></span> +case on the mind. If any one will look at, say, +a Gloire de Dîjon rose (in some persons its mental +image will serve as well as the object itself) and +then at a perfect white chrysanthemum, or lily, +or other beautiful white flower; then at a perfect +yellow chrysanthemum, or an allamanda, and at +any exquisitely beautiful orchid, that has no human +colour in it, which he may be acquainted with, +he will probably say: I admire these chrysanthemums +and other flowers more than the rose; +they are most perfect in their beauty—I cannot +imagine anything more beautiful; but though +the rose is less beautiful and splendid, the admiration +I have for it appears to differ somewhat in +character—to be mixed with some new element +which makes this flower actually more to me than +the others.</p> + +<p>That something different, and something more, +is the human association which this flower has for +us in virtue of its colour; and the new element—the +feeling it inspires, which has something of +tenderness and affection in it—is one and the same +with the feeling which we have for human beauty.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<p>The foregoing has been given here with a few +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg_155]</a></span> +alterations, mainly verbal, as it appeared originally: +something now remains to be added.</p> + +<p>When writing about the wild flowers of West +Cornwall in a work on <i>The Land's End</i> (1908), I +returned to the subject of the charm of flowers +due to their human colouring, and will repeat here +much of what was there said.</p> + +<p>Some of the readers of my flower chapter were +not convinced that I had made out my case: it +came as a surprise to them, and in some instances +they cherished views of their own which they did +not want to give up. Thus, two of my critics, +writing independently, expressed their belief that +flowers are precious to us and seem more beautiful +than they are, because they are absolutely unrelated +to our human life with its passions, sorrows, +and tragedies—because, looking at flowers, we are +taken into, or have glimpses of, another and brighter +world such as a disembodied spirit might find itself +in. It was nothing more than a pretty fancy; +but I had other more thoughtful critics, and during +my correspondence with them I became convinced +of a serious omission in my account of the blue +flower, when I said that its expression was due +to association with the blue eye in man. The +strongest of my friendly adversaries informed me +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg_156]</a></span> +that any man can revel at will among his own +personal feelings and associations; that these +were a "kind of bloom on the intrinsic beauty of +things"—a happy phrase! He then asks: "What +does blue suggest to a sailor? Sometimes the sea, +sometimes the sky, sometimes the Blue Peter; +but if you ask him what does blue paint suggest +he would say <i>mourning</i>, that being the colour of +a ship's mourning. Dr Sutton always called blue +<i>no colour,</i> because it was the colour of death, the +sign of the withdrawal of life."</p> + +<p>This was interesting but fails as an argument +since it was taken for granted in the chapter that +blue in a flower or anything else, and in fact any +colour, possesses individual associations for every +one of us, according to what we are, to the temper +of our minds, to the conditions in which we exist, +our vocation, our early life, and so on. Blue may +suggest sea and sky and the Blue Peter to a sailor, +and yet the blue flower have an expression due +to its human association in him as in another.</p> + +<p>But my critic dropped by chance into something +better, when he went on to ask, "Why shouldn't +the heaven's blue make us love flowers? It does +in my case I know, and I can <i>feel</i> the different blues +of skies and air and distance in flower blue." +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg_157]</a></span></p> + +<p>Undoubtedly he was right; the blue sky, fair +weather, the open air, was a suggestion of the blue +flower. It amazed me to think of the years I had +spent under blue skies and of all I had felt about +blue flowers, without stumbling upon this very +simple fact. So simple, so near to the surface that +you no sooner hear it than you imagine you have +always known it! It was impossible to look at +blue flowers and not be convinced of its truth, +especially when the flowers were spread over considerable +areas, as when I looked at wild hyacinths +in the spring woods, or followed the interminable +blue band of the vernal squill on the west Cornish +coast, or saw large arid tracts of land in Suffolk +blue with viper's bugloss.</p> + +<p>Oddly enough just after the letter containing +this criticism had reached me, another correspondent +who was also among my opponents, sent +me this fine passage from the old writer Sir John +Ferne, on azure in blazoning: "Which blew colour +representeth the Aire amongst the elements, that +of all the rest is the greatest favourer of life, as +the only nurse and maintainer of spirits in any +living creature. The colour blew is commonly +taken from the blue skye which appeareth so often +as the tempests be overblowne, and notes prosperous +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg_158]</a></span> +successe and good fortune to the wearer +in all his affayres."</p> + +<p>In conclusion, after having adopted this new +idea, my view is still that the human association +is the principal factor in the expression of the blue +flower, or at all events in a majority of flowers that +bloom more or less sparingly and are usually seen +as single blooms, not as mere splashes of colour. +Such are the pansy, violet, speedwell, hairbell, +lungwort, blue geranium, etc. It may be that in +all flowers of this kind too an element in the expression +is due to the fair-weather associations +with the colour; but these associations must be +very much stronger in the case of a blue flower +always seen in masses and sheets of colour as the +wild hyacinth. Among dark-eyed races the fair-weather +associations would alone give the blue +flower its expression. I shouldn't wonder, if +some explorer with a curious mind would try to +find out what savages feel about flowers, that he +would discover in them a special regard for the blue +flower.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="RAVENS_IN_SOMERSET" id="RAVENS_IN_SOMERSET"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg_159]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER VIII</div> + +<div class="caption2">RAVENS IN SOMERSET</div> + +<p>Mr Warde Fowler in his <i>Summer Studies of Birds +and Books</i> has a pleasant chapter on wagtails, in +which he remarks incidentally that he does not care +for the big solemn birds that please, or are dear to, +"Mr Hudson." Their bigness disturbs and their +solemnity oppresses him. They do not twitter +and warble, and flit hither and thither, flirting their +feathers, and with their dainty gracefulness and +airy, fairy ways wind themselves round his heart. +Wagtails are quite big enough for him; they are, +in fact, as big as birds should be, and so long as +these charming little creatures abound in these +islands he (Mr Fowler) will be content. Indeed, +he goes so far as to declare that on a desert island, +without a human creature to share its solitude +with him, he would be happy enough if only wagtails +were there to keep him company. Mr Fowler +is not joking; he tells us frankly what he thinks +and feels, and when we come to consider the matter +seriously, as he wishes us to do, we discover that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg_160]</a></span> +there is nothing astonishing in his confession—that +his mental attitude is capable of being explained. +It is only natural, in an England from which most +of the larger birds have been banished, that he +should have become absorbed in observing and in +admiration of the small species that remain; for +we observe and study the life that is nearest to us, +and seeing it well we are impressed by its perfection—the +perfect correspondence that exists between +the creature and its surroundings—by its beauty, +grace, and other attractive qualities, as we are not +impressed by the life which is at a distance, and of +which we only obtain rare and partial glimpses.</p> + +<p>These thoughts passed through my mind one cold, +windy day in spring, several hours of which I spent +lying on the short grass on the summit of a cliff, +watching at intervals a pair of ravens that had their +nest on a ledge of rock some distance below. Big +and solemn, and solemn and big, they certainly were, +and although inferior in this respect to eagle, pelican, +bustard, crane, vulture, heron, stork, and many another +feathered notable, to see them was at the same +time a pleasure and a relief. It also occurred to me +at the time that, alone on a desert island, I should be +better off with ravens than wagtails for companions; +and this for an excellent reason. The wagtail is no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg_161]</a></span> +doubt a very lively, pretty, engaging creature—so +for that matter is the house fly—but between ourselves +and the small birds there exists, psychologically, +a vast gulf. Birds, says Matthew Arnold, live +beside us, but unknown, and try how we will we can +find no <ins title='Correction: was "pasages"'>passages</ins> from our souls to theirs. But to +Arnold—in the poem to which I have alluded at all +events—a bird simply meant a caged canary; he +was not thinking of the larger, more mammal-like, +and therefore more human-like, mind of the raven, +and, it may be added, of the crows generally.</p> + +<p>The pair I spent so long a time in watching were +greatly disturbed at my presence on the cliff. Their +anxiety was not strange, seeing that their nest is +annually plundered in the interest of the "cursed +collector," as Sir Herbert Maxwell has taught us to +name the worst enemy of the rarer British birds. +The "worst," I say; but there is another almost if +not quite as bad, and who in the case of some species +is really worse. At intervals of from fifteen to +twenty minutes they would appear overhead uttering +their angry, deep croak, and, with wings outspread, +seemingly without an effort on their parts +allow the wind to lift them higher and higher until +they would look no bigger than daws; and, after +dwelling for a couple of minutes on the air at that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg_162]</a></span> +great height, they would descend to the earth again, +to disappear behind a neighbouring cliff. And on +each occasion they exhibited that wonderful aërial +feat, characteristic of the raven, and rare among +birds, of coming down in a series of long drops with +closed wings. I am inclined to think that a strong +wind is necessary for the performance of this feat, +enabling the bird to fall obliquely, and to arrest the +fall at any moment by merely throwing out the wings. +At any rate, it is a fact that I have never seen this +method of descent used by the bird in calm weather. +It is totally different to the tumbling down, as if +wounded, of ravens when two or more are seen toying +with each other in the air—a performance which is +also practised by rooks and other species of the crow +family. The tumbling feat is indulged in only when +the birds are playing, and, as it would appear, solely +for the fun of the thing; the feat I am describing +has a use, as it enables the bird to come down from a +great height in the air in the shortest time and with +the least expenditure of force possible. With the +vertical fall of a bird like the gannet on its prey we +are not concerned here, but with the descent to earth +of a bird soaring at a considerable height. Now, +many birds when rushing rapidly down appear to +close their wings, but they are never wholly closed; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg_163]</a></span> +in some cases they are carried as when folded, but +are slightly raised from the body; in other cases the +wing is tightly pressed against the side, but the +primaries stand out obliquely, giving the descending +bird the figure of a barbed arrow-head. This may be +seen in daws, choughs, pipits, and many other species. +The raven suddenly closes his outspread wings, just +as a man might drop his arms to his sides, and falls +head downwards through the air like a stone bird +cast down from its pedestal; but he falls obliquely, +and, after falling for a space of twenty or thirty or +more feet, he throws out his wings and floats for a +few seconds on the air, then falls again, and then +again, until the earth is reached.</p> + +<p>Let the reader imagine a series of invisible wires +stretched, wire above wire, at a distance of thirty or +forty yards apart, to a height of six or seven hundred +yards from the earth. Let him next imagine an +acrobat, infinitely more daring, more agile, and +graceful in action than any performer he has ever +seen, standing on the highest wire of all, in his black +silk tights, against the blue sky, his arms outstretched; +then dropping his arms to his sides and diving through +the air to the next wire, then to the next, and so on +successively until he comes to the earth. The feat +would be similar, only on a larger scale and less +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg_164]</a></span> +beautiful than that of the ravens as I witnessed it +again and again from the cliff on that windy day.</p> + +<p>While watching this magnificent display it troubled +me to think that this pair of ravens would probably +not long survive to be an ornament to the coast. +Their nest, it has been stated, is regularly robbed, +but I had been informed that in the summer of 1894 +a third bird appeared, and it was then conjectured +that the pair had succeeded in rearing one of their +young. About a month later a raven was picked up +dead on the coast by a boatman,—killed, it was believed, +by his fellow-ravens,—and since then two +birds only have been seen. There are only two more +pair of ravens on the Somersetshire coast, and, as +one of these has made no attempt to breed of late, +we may take it that the raven population of this +county, where the species was formerly common, has +now been reduced to two pairs.</p> + +<p>Anxious to find out if there was any desire in the +place to preserve the birds I had been observing, I +made many inquiries in the neighbourhood, and was +told that the landlord cared nothing about them, and +that the tenant's only desire was to see the last of +them. The tenant kept a large number of sheep, +and always feared, one of his men told me, that the +ravens would attack and kill his lambs. It was true +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg_165]</a></span> +that they had not done so as yet, but they might kill +a lamb at any time; and, besides, there were the +rabbits—the place swarmed with them—there was +no doubt that a young rabbit was taken occasionally.</p> + +<p>Why, then, I asked, if they were so destructive, +did not his master go out and shoot them at once? +The man looked grave, and answered that his master +would not do the killing himself, but would be very +glad to see it done by some other person.</p> + +<p>How curious it is to find that the old superstitions +about the raven and the evil consequences of inflicting +wilful injury on the bird still survive, in spite of the +fact that the species has been persecuted almost to +extirpation!</p> + +<p>"Have you not read, sir," Don Quixote is made +to say, "the annals and histories of England, wherein +are renowned and famous exploits of King Arthur, +of whom there goes a tradition, and a common one, +all over that kingdom of Great Britain, that the +king did not die, but that by magic art he was transformed +into a raven, and that in process of time he +shall reign again and recover his kingdom and +sceptre, for which reason it cannot be proved that, +from that day to this, any Englishman has killed a +raven?"</p> + +<p>Now, it is certain that many Englishmen kill +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg_166]</a></span> +ravens, also that if the country people in England +ever had any knowledge of King Arthur they have +long forgotten it. Nevertheless this particular +superstition still exists. I have met with it in various +places, and found an instance of it only the other day +in the Midlands, where the raven no longer breeds. +Near Broadway, in Worcestershire, there is a farm +called "Kite's Nest," where a pair of ravens bred +annually up to about twenty-eight or thirty years +ago, when the young were taken and the nest pulled +down by three young men from the village: to this +day it is related by some of the old people that the +three young men all shortly came to bad ends. Near +Broadway an old farmer told me that since the birds +had been driven away from "Kite's Nest" he had +not seen a raven in that part of the country until one +made its appearance on his farm about four years +ago. He was out one day with his gun, cautiously +approaching a rabbit warren, when the bird suddenly +got up from the mouth of a burrow, and coming +straight to him, hovered for some seconds above his +head, not more than thirty yards from him. "It +looked as if he wanted to be shot at," said the +old man, "but he's no bird to be shot at by I. +'Twould be bad for I to hurt a raven, and no +mistake."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg_167]</a></span> +Continuing my inquiries about the Somerset ravens, +I found a man who was anxious that they should be +spared. His real reason was that their eggs for him +were golden eggs, for he lived near the cliff, and had +an eye always on them, and had been successful for +many years in robbing their nest, until he had at +length come to look on these birds almost as his own +property. Being his he loved them, and was glad to +talk about them to me by the hour. Among other +things he related that the ravens had for very near +neighbours on the rocks a pair of peregrine falcons, +and for several years there had always been peace +between them. At length one winter afternoon he +heard loud, angry cries, and presently two birds appeared +above the cliff—a raven and a falcon—engaged +in desperate battle and mounting higher and +higher as they fought. The raven, he said, did not +croak, but constantly uttered his harsh, powerful, +barking cry, while the falcon emitted shrill, piercing +cries that must have been audible two miles away. +At intervals as they rose, wheeling round and round, +they struck at each other, and becoming locked together +fell like one bird for a considerable distance; +then they would separate and mount again, shrieking +and barking. At length they rose to so great a +height that he feared to lose sight of them; but the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg_168]</a></span> +struggle grew fiercer; they closed more often and +fell longer distances, until they were near the earth +once more, when they finally separated, flying away +in opposite directions. He was afraid that the birds +had fatally injured each other, but after two or three +days he saw them again in their places.</p> + +<p>It was not possible for him, he told me, to describe +the feelings he had while watching the birds. It +was the most wonderful thing he had ever witnessed, +and while the fight lasted he looked round from time +to time, straining his eyes and praying that some one +would come to share the sight with him, and because +no one appeared he was miserable.</p> + +<p>I could well understand his feeling, and have not +ceased to envy him his good fortune. Thinking, after +leaving him, of the sublime conflict he had described, +and of the raven's savage nature, Blake's question in +his "Tiger, tiger, burning bright" came to my mind:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +Did He who made the lamb make thee? +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">We can but answer that it was no other; that when +the Supreme Artist had fashioned it with bold, free +lines out of the blue-black rock, he smote upon it +with his mallet and bade it live and speak; and its +voice when it spoke was in accord with its appearance +and temper—the savage, human-like croak, and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg_169]</a></span> +loud, angry bark, as if a deep-chested man had +barked like a blood-hound.</div> + +<p>How strange it seems, when we come to think of +it, that the owners of great estates and vast parks, +who are lovers of wild nature and animal life, and +should therefore have been most anxious to preserve +this bird, have allowed it to be extirpated! "A +raven tree," says the author of the <i>Birds of Wiltshire</i>, +"is no mean ornament to a park, and speaks of a wide +domain and large timber, and an ancient family; for +the raven is an aristocratic bird and cannot brook a +confined property and trees of a young growth. Would +that its predilection were more humoured and a +secure retreat allowed it by the larger proprietors +in the land!"</p> + +<p>The wide domains, the large timber, and the ancient +families survive, but the raven has vanished. It +occasionally takes a young rabbit. But the human +ravens of Somerset—to wit, the men and boys who +have as little right to the rabbits—do the same. I +do not suppose that in this way fewer than ten thousand +to twenty thousand rabbits are annually +"picked up," or "poached"—if any one likes that +word better—in the county. Probably a larger +number. The existence of a pair of ravens on an +estate of twenty or thirty thousand acres would not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg_170]</a></span> +add much to the loss. No doubt the raven kills +other creatures that are preserved for sport, but it +does not appear that its extermination has improved +things in Somerset. Thirty years ago, when black-game +was more plentiful than it is now, the raven +was to be met with throughout the county, and was +abundant on Exmoor and the Quantocks. The old +head keeper on the Forest of Exmoor told me that +when he took the place, twenty-five years ago, ravens, +carrion crows, buzzards, and hawks of various kinds +were very abundant, and that the war he had waged +against them for a quarter of a century had well-nigh +extirpated all these species. He had kept a careful +record of all birds killed, noting the species in every +case, as he was paid for all, but the reward varied, the +largest sum being given for the largest birds—ravens +and buzzards. His book shows that in one year, a +quarter of a century ago, he was paid for fifty-two +ravens shot and trapped. After that the number +annually diminished rapidly, and for several years +past not one raven had been killed.</p> + +<p>At present one may go from end to end of the +county, which is a long one, and find no raven; +but in very many places, from North Devon to the +borders of Gloucestershire, one would find accounts of +"last ravens." Even in the comparatively populous +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg_171]</a></span> +neighbourhood of Wells at least three pairs of ravens +bred annually down to about twenty years ago—one +pair in the tower on Glastonbury Tor, one on the +Ebor rocks, and one at Wookey Hole, two miles from +the town.</p> + +<p>But Somerset is no richer in memories of "last +ravens" than most English counties. A selection +of the most interesting of such memories of ravens +expelled from their ancestral breeding-places during +the last half-century would fill a volume. In conclusion +I will give one of the raven stories I picked up +in Somerset. It was related to me by Dr Livett, +who has been the parish doctor in Wells for over sixty +years, and was able to boast, before retiring in 1898, +that he was the oldest parish doctor in the kingdom. +About the year 1841 he was sent for to attend a +cottage woman at Priddy—a desolate little village +high up in the Mendips, four or five miles from Wells. +He had to remain some hours at the cottage, and +about midnight he was with the other members of +the family in the living-room, when a loud tapping +was heard on the glazed window. As no one in the +room moved, and the tapping continued at intervals, +he asked why some one did not open the door. They +replied that it was only the ravens, and went on to +tell him that a pair of these birds roosted every night +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg_172]</a></span> +close by, and invariably when a light was seen burning +at a late hour in any cottage they would come and +tap at the window. The ravens had often been seen +doing it, and their habit was so well known that no +notice was taken of it.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="OWLS_IN_A_VILLAGE" id="OWLS_IN_A_VILLAGE"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg_173]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER IX</div> + +<div class="caption2">OWLS IN A VILLAGE</div> + +<p>In November, when tramping in the Midlands, I paid +a visit to a friend who had previously informed me, in +describing the attractions of the small, remote, rustic +village he lived in, that it was haunted by owls.</p> + +<p>The night-roving bird that inhabits the country +village and its immediate neighbourhood is, in most +cases, the white or barn owl, the owl that prefers a +loft in a barn or a church tower for home and breeding-place +to the hollow, ivied tree. The loft is dry +and roomy, the best shelter from the storm and the +tempest, although not always from the tempest of +man's insensate animosity. The larger wood owl +is supposed to have a different disposition, to be a +dweller in deep woods, in love with "seclusion, gloom, +and retirement,"—a thorough hermit. It is not so +everywhere, certainly not in my friend's Gloucestershire +village, where the white owl is unknown, while +the brown or wood owl is quite common. But it is +not a thickly wooded district; the woods there are +small and widely separated. There is, however, a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg_174]</a></span> +deal of old hedgerow timber and many large trees +scattered about the fields. These the owl inhabits +and is abundant simply because the gamekeeper is +not there with his everlasting gun; while the farmers +look on the bird rather as a friend than an enemy.</p> + +<p>To go a little further into the matter, there are no +gamekeepers because the landowners cannot afford +the expensive luxury of hand-reared pheasants. The +country is, or was, a rich one; but the soil is clay so +extraordinarily stiff that four or five horses are +needed to draw a plough. It is, indeed, strange to +see five huge horses, all in line, dragging a plough, and +moving so slowly that, when looked at from a distance, +they appear not to move at all. If here and +there a little wheat is still grown, it is only because, +as the farmers say, "We mun have straw." The +land has mostly gone out of cultivation, many vacant +farms could be had at about five shillings an acre, and +the landlords would in many cases, when pay day came +round, be glad to take half a crown and forgive the rest.</p> + +<p>The fields that were once ploughed are used for +grazing, but the sheep and cattle on them are very +few; one can only suppose that the land is not suitable +for grazing purposes, or else that the farmers +are too poor to buy sufficient stock.</p> + +<p>Viewed from some eminence, the wide, green +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg_175]</a></span> +country appears a veritable waste; the idle hedges +enclosing vacant fields, the ancient scattered trees, +the absence of life, the noonday quiet, where the +silence is only broken at <ins title='Correction: was "intervvals"'>intervals</ins> by some distant +bird voice, strangely impress the mind as by a vision +of a time to come and of an England dispeopled. It +is restful; there is a melancholy charm in it similar +to that of a nature untouched by man, although not +so strong. Here, everywhere are visible the marks +of human toil and ownership—the wave-like, parallel +ridges in the fields, now mantled with grass, and the +hedges that cut up the surface of the earth into innumerable +segments of various shapes and sizes. It +is not wild, but there is something in it of the desolaton +that accompanies wildness—a promise soon to be +fulfilled, now that grass and herbage will have freedom +to grow, and the hedges that have been trimmed for +a thousand years will no longer be restrained from +spreading.</p> + +<p>In this district the farmhouses and cottages are +not scattered over the country. The farm-buildings, +as a rule, form part of the village; the villages are +small and mostly hidden from sight among embowering +trees or in a coombe. From the high ground in +some places it is possible to gaze over many miles of +surrounding country and not see a human habitation; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg_176]</a></span> +hours may sometimes be passed in such a spot without +a human figure appearing in the landscape.</p> + +<p>The village I was staying at is called Willersey; the +nearest to it, a little over a mile away, is Saintbury. +This last was just such a pretty peaceful spot as +would tempt a world-weary man to exclaim on first +catching sight of it, "Here I could wish to end my +days." A little old-world village, set among trees +in the sheltering hollow of a deep coombe, consisting +of thatched stone cottages, grouped in a pretty disorder; +a modest ale-house; a parsonage overgrown +with ivy; and the old stone church, stained yellow +and grey with lichen, its low square tower overtopped +by the surrounding trees. It was a pleasure merely +to sit idle, thinking of nothing, on the higher part of +the green slope, with that small centre of rustic life +at my feet. For many hours of each day it was +strangely silent, the hours during which the men were +away at a distance in the fields, the children shut up +in school, and the women in their cottages. An +occasional bird voice alone broke the silence—the +distant harsh call of a crow, or the sudden startled +note of a magpie close at hand, a sound that resembles +the broken or tremulous bleat of a goat. If an apple +dropped from a tree in the village, its thud would be +audible from end to end of the little crooked street +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg_177]</a></span> +in every cottage it would be known that an apple had +dropped. On some days the sound of the threshing-machine +would be heard a mile or two away; in that +still atmosphere it was like the prolonged hum of +some large fly magnified a million times. A musical +sound, buzzing or clear, at times tremulous, rising or +falling at intervals, it would swell and fill the world, +then grow faint and die away. This is one of the +artificial sounds which, like distant chimes, harmonise +with rural scenes.</p> + +<p>Towards evening the children were all at play, +their shrill cries and laughter sounding from all parts +of the village. Then, when the sun had set and the +landscape grew dim, they would begin to call to one +another from all sides in imitation of the wood owl's +hoot. During these autumn evenings the children +at this spot appeared to drop naturally into the owl's +note, just as in spring in all parts of England they +take to mimicking the cuckoo's call. Children are +like birds of a social and loquacious disposition in +their fondness for a set call, a penetrative cry or note, +by means of which they can converse at long distances. +But they have no settled call of their own, +no cry as distinctive as that of one of the lower +animals. They mimic some natural sound. In the +case of the children of these Midland villages it is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg_178]</a></span> +the wood owl's clear prolonged note; and in every +place where some animal with a striking and imitable +voice is found its call is used by them. Where no +such sound is heard, as in large towns, they invent a +call; that is, one invents it and the others immediately +take it up. It is curious that the human species, +in spite of its long wild life in the past, should have +no distinctive call, or calls, universally understood. +Among savage tribes the men often mimic the cry +of some wild animal as a call, just as our children do +that of an owl by night, and of some diurnal species +in the daytime. Other tribes have a call of their +own, a shout or yell peculiar to the tribe; but it is +not used instinctively—it is a mere symbol, and is +artificial, like the long-drawn piercing <i>coo-ee</i> of the +Australian colonists in the bush, and the abrupt <i>Hi!</i> +with which we hail a cab, with other forms of halooing; +or even the lupine gurgled yowl of the morning +milkman.</p> + +<p>After dark the silence at the village was very profound +until about half-past nine to ten o'clock, when +the real owls, so easily to be distinguished from their +human mockers, would begin their hooting—a single, +long, uninflected note, and after it a silent interval +of eight or ten seconds; then the succeeding longer, +much more beautiful note, quavering at first, but +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg_179]</a></span> +growing steady and clear, with some slight modulation +in it. The symbols <i>hoo-hoo</i> and <i>to-whit to-who</i>, +as Shakespeare wrote it, stand for the wood owl's +note in books; but you cannot spell the sound of an +oaten straw, nor of the owl's pipe. There is no <i>w</i> in +it, and no <i>h</i> and no <i>t</i>. It suggests some wind instrument +that resembles the human voice, but a very un-English +one—perhaps the high-pitched somewhat +nasal voice of an Arab intoning a prayer to Allah. +One cannot hit on the precise instrument, there are +so many; perhaps it is obsolete, and the owl was +taught his song by lovers in the long ago, who wooed +at twilight in a forgotten tongue,</p> + +<div class="poem"> + And gave the soft winds a voice,<br /> +With instruments of unremembered forms.<br /> +</div> + +<p>No, that cannot be; for the wood owl's music is +doubtless older than any instrument made by hands +to be blown by human lips. Listening by night to +their concert, the many notes that come from far +and near, human-like, yet airy, delicate, mysterious, +one could imagine that the sounds had a meaning +and a message to us; that, like the fairy-folk in Mr +Yeats's Celtic lyric, the singers were singing—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +We who are old, old and gay,<br /> + O, so old;<br /> +Thousands of years, thousands of years,<br /> + If all were told!<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg_180]</a></span> +The fairies certainly have a more understandable +way of putting it than the geologists and the anthropologists +when we ask them to tell us how long it is +since Palćolithic man listened to the hooting of the +wood owl. Has this sound the same meaning for us +that it had for him—the human being that did not +walk erect, and smile, and look on heaven, but went +with a stoop, looking on the earth? No, and Yes. +Standing alone under the great trees in the dark still +nights, the sound seems to increase the feeling of +loneliness, to make the gloom deeper, the silence +more profound. Turning our visions inward on such +occasions, we are startled with a glimpse of the night-side +of nature in the soul: we have with us strange +unexpected guests, fantastic beings that are in no way +related to our lives; dead and buried since childhood, +they have miraculously been restored to life. +When we are back in the candlelight and firelight, and +when the morrow dawns, these children of night and +the unsubstantial appearance of things</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">fade away</span><br /> +Into the light of common day.<br /> +</div> + +<p>The villagers of Saintbury are, however, still in a +somewhat primitive mental condition; the light of +common day does not deliver them from the presence +of phantoms, as the following instance will show.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg_181]</a></span> +Near Willersey there is a group of very large old +elm-trees which is a favourite meeting-place of the +owls, and one very dark starless night, about ten +o'clock, I had been listening to them, and after they +ceased hooting I remained for half an hour standing +motionless in the same place. At length, in the +direction of Saintbury, I heard the dull sound of +heavy stumbling footsteps coming towards me over +the rough, ridgy field. Nearer and nearer the man +came, until, arriving at the hedge close to which I +stood, he scrambled through, muttering maledictions +on the thorns that scratched and tore him; then, +catching sight of me at a distance of two or three +yards, he started back and stood still very much +astonished at seeing a motionless human figure at +that spot. I greeted him, and, to explain my +presence, remarked that I had been listening to +the owls.</p> + +<p>"Owls!—listening to the owls!" he exclaimed, +staring at me. After a while he added, "We have +been having too much of the owls over at Saintbury." +Had I heard, he asked, about the young woman who +had dropped down dead a week or two ago, after +hearing an owl hooting near her cottage in the daytime? +Well, the owl had been hooting again in the +same tree, and no one knew who it was for and what +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg_182]</a></span> +to expect next. The village was in an excited state +about it, and all the children had gathered near the +tree and thrown stones into it, but the owl had stubbornly +refused to come out.</p> + +<p>That about the young woman he had spoken of is +a queer little story to read in this enlightened land. +She was apparently in very good health, a wife, and +the mother of a small child; but a few weeks before +her sudden death a strange thing occurred to trouble +her mind. One afternoon, when sitting alone in her +cottage taking tea, she saw a cricket come in at the +open door, and run straight into the middle of the +room. There it remained motionless, and without +stirring from her seat she took a few moist tea-leaves +and threw them down near the welcome guest. The +cricket moved up to the leaves, and when it touched +them and appeared just about to begin sucking their +moisture, to her dismay it turned aside, ran away out +at the door, and disappeared. She informed all her +neighbours of this startling occurrence, and sadly +spoke of an aunt who was living at another village +and was known to be in bad health. "It must be +for her," she said; "we'll soon be hearing bad news +of her, I'm thinking." But no bad news came, and +when she was beginning to believe that the strange +cricket that had refused to remain in the house had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg_183]</a></span> +proved a false prophet, the warning of the owl came +to startle her afresh. At noonday she heard it hooting +in the great horse-chestnut overgrown with ivy +that stands at the roadside, close to her cottage. +The incident was discussed by the villagers with their +usual solemnity and head-shakings, and now the +young woman gave up all hopes of her sick aunt's recovery; +for that one of her people was going to die +was certain, and it could be no other than that ailing +one. And, after all, the message and warning was +for her and not the aunt. Not many days after the +owl had hooted in broad daylight, she dropped down +dead in her cottage while engaged in some domestic +work.</p> + +<p>On the following morning I went with the friend +I was visiting at Willersey to Saintbury, and the +story heard overnight was confirmed. The owl <i>had</i> +been hooting in the daytime in the same old horse-chestnut +tree from which it had a short time ago +foretold the young woman's death. One of the +villagers, who was engaged in repairing the thatch +of a cottage close to the tree, informed us that the +owl's hooting had not troubled him in the least. +Owls, he truly said, often hoot in the daytime during +the autumn months, and he did not believe that it +meant death for some one.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg_184]</a></span> +This sceptical fellow, it is hardly necessary to say, +was a young man who had spent a good deal of his +time away from the village.</p> + +<p>At Willersey, a Mr Andrews, a lover of birds who +owns a large garden and orchard in the village, gave +me an entertaining account of a pet wood owl he once +had. He had it as a young bird and never confined +it. As a rule it spent most of the daylight hours in +an apple loft, coming forth when the sun was low to +fly about the grounds until it found him, when it +would perch on his shoulder and spend the evening in +his company. In one thing this owl differed from +most pet birds which are allowed to have their liberty: +he made no difference between the people of the house +and those who were not of it; he would fly on to anybody's +shoulder, although he only addressed his +hunger-cry to those who were accustomed to feed him. +As he roamed at will all over the place he became +well known to every one, and on account of his beauty +and perfect confidence he grew to be something of a +village pet. But short days with long, dark evenings—and +how dark they can be in a small, tree-shaded, +lampless village!—wrought a change in the public +feeling about the owl. He was always abroad in the +evening, gliding about unseen in the darkness on +downy silent wings, and very suddenly dropping on +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg_185]</a></span> +to the shoulder of any person—man, woman, or +child—who happened to be out of doors. Men would +utter savage maledictions when they felt the demon +claws suddenly clutch them; girls shrieked and fled +to the nearest cottage, into which they would rush, +palpitating with terror. Then there would be a +laugh, for it was only the tame owl; but the same +terror would be experienced on the next occasion, and +young women and children were afraid to venture out +after nightfall lest the ghostly creature with luminous +eyes should pop down upon them.</p> + +<p>At length, one morning the bird came not back +from his night-wandering, and after two days and +nights, during which he had not been seen, he was +given up for lost. On the third day Mr Andrews +was in his orchard, when, happening to pass near +a clump of bushes, he heard the owl's note of recognition +very faintly uttered. The poor bird had +been in hiding at that spot the whole time, and +when taken up was found to be in a very weak +condition and to have one leg broken. No doubt +one of the villagers on whose shoulders it had sought +to alight, had struck it down with his stick and +caused its injury. The bone was skilfully repaired +and the bird tenderly cared for, and before long +he was well again and strong as ever; but a change +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg_186]</a></span> +had come over his disposition. His confidence in +his human fellow-creatures was gone; he now +regarded them all—even those of the house—with +suspicion, opening wide his eyes and drawing a +little back when any person approached him. Never +more did he alight on any person's shoulder, though +his evenings were spent as before in flying about +the village. Insensibly his range widened and he +became wilder. Human companionship, no longer +pleasant, ceased to be necessary; and at length +he found a mate who was willing to overlook his +pauper past, and with her he went away to live +his wild life.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="THE_STRANGE_AND_BEAUTIFUL_SHELDRAKE" id="THE_STRANGE_AND_BEAUTIFUL_SHELDRAKE"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg_187]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER X</div> + +<div class="caption2">THE STRANGE AND BEAUTIFUL SHELDRAKE</div> + +<p>At the head of the Cheddar valley, a couple of miles +from the cathedral city of Wells, the Somerset Axe +is born, gushing out noisily, a mighty volume of +clear cold water, from a cavern in a black precipitous +rock on the hillside. This cavern is called Wookey +Hole, and above it the rough wall is draped with +ivy and fern, and many small creeping plants and +flowery shrubs rooted in the crevices; and in the +holes in the rock the daws have their nests. They +are a numerous and a vociferous colony, but the +noise of their loudest cawings, when they rush out +like a black cloud and are most excited, is almost +drowned by the louder roar of the torrent beneath—the +river's great cry of liberty and joy on issuing +from the blackness in the hollow of the hills into +the sunshine of heaven and the verdure of that beautiful +valley. The Axe finishes its course fifteen miles +away, for 'tis a short river, but they are pleasant +miles in one of the fairest vales in the west of +England, rich in cattle and in corn. And at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg_188]</a></span> +point where it flows into the Severn Sea stands +Brean Down, a huge isolated hill, the last of the +Mendip range on that side. It has a singular +appearance: it might be likened in its form to a +hippopotamus standing on the flat margin of an +African lake, its breast and mouth touching the +water, and all its body belly-deep in the mud; it is, +in fact, a hill or a promontory united to the mainland +by a strip of low flat land—a huge, oblong, +saddle-backed hill projected into the sea towards +Wales. Down at its foot, at the point where it +touches the mainland, close to the mouth of the +Axe, there is a farmhouse, and the farmer is the +tenant of the entire hill, and uses it as a sheep-walk. +The sheep and rabbits and birds are the only inhabitants. +I remember a delightful experience I +had one cold windy but very bright spring morning +near the farmhouse. There is there, at a spot where +one is able to ascend the steep hill, a long strip of +rock that looks like the wall of a gigantic ruined +castle, rough and black, draped with ancient ivy +and crowned with furze and bramble and thorn. +Here, coming out of the cold wind to the shelter of +this giant ivy-draped black wall, I stood still to +enjoy the sensations of warmth and a motionless +air, when high above appeared a swift-moving little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg_189]</a></span> +cloud of linnets, seemingly blown across the sky by +the gale; but quite suddenly, when directly over +me, the birds all came straight down, to drop like +a shower of small stones into the great masses of +ivy and furze and bramble. And no sooner had +they settled, vanishing into that warm and windless +greenery, than they simultaneously burst into such +a concert of sweetest wild linnet music, that I was +enchanted, and thought that never in all the years +I had spent in the haunts of wild birds had I heard +anything so fairy-like and beautiful.</p> + +<p>On this hill, or down, at the highest point, you +have the Severn Sea before you, and, beyond, the +blue mountains of Glamorganshire, and, on the shore, +the town of Cardiff made beautiful by distance, +vaguely seen in the blue haze and shimmering sunlight +like a dream city. On your right hand, on +your own side of the narrow sea, you have a good +view of the big young growing town of Weston-super-Mare—Bristol's +Margate or Brighton, as it +has been called. It is built of Bath stone, and at +this distance looks grey, darkened with the slate +roofs, and a little strange; but the sight is not unpleasant, +and if you wish to retain that pleasant +impression, go not nearer to it than Brean Down, +since on a closer view its aspect changes, and it is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg_190]</a></span> +simply ugly. On your left hand you look over +long miles, long leagues, of low flat country, extending +to the Parret River, and beyond it to the +blue Quantock range. That low land is on a level +with the sea, and is the flattest bit of country in +England, not even excepting the Ely district. +Apart from the charm which flatness has in itself +for some persons—it has for me a very great charm +on account of early associations—there is much +here to attract the lover of nature. It is the chief +haunt and paradise of the reed warbler, one of our +sweetest songsters, and here his music may be heard +amid more perfect surroundings than in any other +haunt of the bird known to me in England.</p> + +<p>This low level strip of country is mostly pasture-land, +and is drained by endless ditches, full of reeds +and sedges growing in the stagnant sherry-coloured +water; dwarf hawthorn grows on the banks of the +ditches, and is the only tree vegetation. Standing +on one of the wide flat green fields or spaces, at a +distance from the sandy dyke or ditch, it is strangely +silent. Unless a lark is singing near, there is no +sound at all; but it is wonderfully bright and +fragrant where the green level earth is yellowed +over with cowslips, and you get the deliciousness +of that flower in fullest measure. On coming to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg_191]</a></span> +the dyke you are no longer in a silent land with +fragrance as its principal charm—you are in the +midst of a perpetual flow and rush of sound. You +may sit or lie there on the green bank by the hour +and it will not cease; and so sweet and beautiful +is it, that after a day spent in rambling in such a +place with these delicate spring delights, on returning +to the woods and fields and homesteads the +songs of thrush and blackbird sound in the ear as +loud and coarse as the cackling of fowls and geese.</p> + +<p>It is in this district, from Brean Down westwards +along the coast to Dunster, that I have been best +able to observe and enjoy the beautiful sheldrake—almost +the only large bird which is now permitted +to exist in Somerset.</p> + +<p>The sheldrake of the British Islands, called the +common sheldrake (or sheld-duck) in the natural +history books, for no good reason, since there is but +one, is now becoming common enough as an ornamental +waterfowl. It is to be seen in so many +parks and private grounds all over the country +that the sight of it in its conspicuous plumage must +be pretty familiar to people generally. And many +of those who know it best as a tame bird would, +perhaps, say that the descriptive epithets of strange +and beautiful do not exactly fit it. They would +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg_192]</a></span> +say that it has a striking appearance, or that it is +peculiar and handsome in a curious way; or they +might describe it as an abnormally slender and +elegant-looking Aylesbury duck, whiter than that +domestic bird, with a crimson beak and legs, dark-green +glossy head, and sundry patches of chestnut-red +and black on its snowy plumage. In calling it +"strange" I was thinking of its manners and customs +rather than of the singularity of its appearance.</p> + +<p>As to its beauty, those who know it in a state of +nature, in its haunts on the sea coast, will agree +that it is one of the handsomest of our large wild +birds. It cannot now be said that it is common, +except in a few favoured localities. On the south +coast it is all but extinct as a breeding species, and +on the east side of England it is becoming increasingly +rare, even in spots so well suited to it as Holy +Island, and the coast at Bamborough Castle, with +its great sand-hills. These same hills that look on +the sea, and are greener than ivy with the everlasting +green of the rough marram grass that +covers them, would be a very paradise to the sheldrake, +but for man—vile man!—who watches him +through a spy-glass in the breeding season to rob +him of his eggs. The persecuted bird has grown +exceedingly shy and cautious, but go he must to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg_193]</a></span> +his burrow in the dunes, and the patient watcher +sees him at a great distance on account of his conspicuous +white plumage, and marks the spot, then +takes his spade to dig down to the hidden eggs.</p> + +<p>On the Somerset coast the bird is not so badly +off, and I have had many happy days with him +there. Simply to watch the birds at feed, when +the tide goes out and they are busy searching for +the small marine creatures they live on among the +stranded seaweed, is a great pleasure. At such +times they are most active and loquacious, uttering +a variety of wild goose-like sounds, frequently +rising to pursue one another in circles, or to fly up +and down the coast in pairs, or strings of half a +dozen birds, with a wonderfully graceful flight. +If, after watching this sea-fowl by the sea, a person +will go to some park water to look on the same bird, +pinioned and tame, sitting or standing, or swimming +about in a quiet, listless way, he will be amazed +at the difference in its appearance. The tame +bird is no bigger than a domestic duck; the wild +sheldrake, flying about in the strong sunshine, +looks almost as large as a goose. A similar illusion +is produced in the case of some other large birds. +Thus, the common buzzard, when rising in circles +high above us, at times appears as big as an eagle, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg_194]</a></span> +and it has been conjectured that this magnifying +effect, which gives something of sublimity to the +soaring buzzard, is caused by the sunlight passing +through the semi-translucent wing and tail feathers. +In the case of the sheldrake, the exaggerated size +may be an effect of strong sunlight on a flying white +object. Seen on the wing at a distance the plumage +appears entirely of a surpassing whiteness, the +dark patches of chestnut, black, and deep green +colour showing only when the bird is near, or when +it alights and folds its white wings.</p> + +<p>When the tide has covered their feeding-ground +on the coast, the sheldrakes are accustomed to visit +the low green pasture-lands, and may be seen in +small flocks feeding like geese on the clover and +grass. Here one day I saw about a dozen sheldrakes +in the midst of an immense congregation of +rooks, daws, and starlings feeding among some +cows. It was a curious gathering, and the red +Devons, shining white sheldrakes, and black rooks +on the bright green grass, produced a singular effect.</p> + +<p>Best of all it is to observe the birds when breeding +in May. Brean Down is an ancient favourite +breeding-site, and the birds breed there in the +rabbit holes, and sometimes under a thick furze-bush +on the ground. At another spot on this coast +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg_195]</a></span> +I have had the rare good fortune to find a number +of pairs breeding at one spot on private enclosed +land, where I could approach them very closely, +and watch them any day for hours at a stretch, +studying their curious sign-language, about which +nothing, to my knowledge, has hitherto been written. +There were about thirty pairs, and their breeding-holes +were mostly rabbit-burrows scattered about +on a piece of sandy ground, about an acre and a +half in extent, almost surrounded by water. When +I watched them the birds were laying; and at +about ten o'clock in the morning they would begin +to come in from the sea in pairs, all to settle down +at one spot; and by creeping some distance at the +water-side among the rushes, I could get within +forty yards of them, and watch them by the hour +without being discovered by them. In an hour +or so there would be forty or fifty birds forming +a flock, each couple always keeping close together, +some sitting on the short grass, others standing, +all very quiet. At length one bird in the flock, a +male, would all at once begin to move his head in +a slow, measured manner from side to side, like a +pianist swaying his body in time to his own music. +If no notice was taken of this motion by the duck +sitting by his side dozing on the grass, the drake, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg_196]</a></span> +would take a few steps forward and place himself +directly before her, so as to compel her to give +attention, and rock more vigorously than ever, +haranguing her, as it were, although without words; +the meaning of it all being that it was time for her +to get up and go to her burrow to lay her egg. I +do not know any other species in which the male +takes it on himself to instruct his mate on a domestic +matter which one would imagine to be exclusively +within her own province; and some ornithologists +may doubt that I have given a right explanation +of these curious doings of the sheldrake. But +mark what follows: The duck at length gets up, +in a lazy, reluctant way, perhaps, and stretches a +wing and a leg, and then after awhile sways <i>her</i> +head two or three times, as if to say that she is +ready. At once the drake, followed by her, walks +off, and leads the way to the burrow, which may +be a couple of hundred yards away; and during +the walk she sometimes stops, whereupon he at +once turns back and begins the swaying motion +again. At last, arriving at the mouth of the burrow, +he steps aside and invites her to enter, rocking himself +again, and anon bending his head down and +looking into the cavity, then drawing back again; +and at last, after so much persuasion on his part, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg_197]</a></span> +she lowers her head, creeps quietly down and disappears +within. Left alone, the drake stations +himself at the burrow's mouth, with head raised +like a sentinel on duty; but after five or ten +minutes he slowly walks back to the flock, and +settles down for a quiet nap among his fellows. +They are all married couples; and every drake +among them, when in some mysterious way he knows +the time has come for the egg to be laid, has to +go through the same long ceremonious performance, +with variations according to his partner's individual +disposition.</p> + +<p>It is amusing to see at intervals a pair march off +from the flock; and one wonders whether the +others, whose turn will come by and by, pass any +remarks; but the dumb conversation at the +burrow's mouth is always most delightful to witness. +Sometimes the lady bird exhibits an extreme +reluctance, and one can imagine her saying, "I have +come thus far just to please you, but you'll never +persuade me to go down into that horrid dark hole. +If I <i>must</i> lay an egg, I'll just drop it out here on +the grass and let it take its chance."</p> + +<p>It is rather hard on the drake; but he never +loses his temper, never boxes her ears with his +carmine red beak, or thrashes her with his shining +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg_198]</a></span> +white wings, nor does he tell her that she is just +like a woman—an illogical fool. He is most gentle +and considerate, full of distress and sympathy for +her, and tells her again what he has said before, +but in a different way; he agrees with her that it +is dark and close down there away from the sweet +sunlight, but that it is an old, old custom of the +sheldrakes to breed in holes, and has its advantages; +and that if she will only overcome her natural +repugnance and fear of the dark, in that long narrow +tunnel, when she is once settled down on the nest +and feels the cold eggs growing warm again under +her warm body she will find that it is not so bad +after all.</p> + +<p>And in the end he prevails; and bowing her +pretty head she creeps quietly down and disappears, +while he remains on guard at the door—for a little +while.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="GEESE_AN_APPRECIATION_AND_A_MEMORY" id="GEESE_AN_APPRECIATION_AND_A_MEMORY"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg_199]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER XI</div> + +<div class="caption2">GEESE: AN APPRECIATION AND A MEMORY</div> + +<p>One November evening, in the neighbourhood +of Lyndhurst, I saw a flock of geese marching in +a long procession, led, as their custom is, by a +majestical gander; they were coming home from +their feeding-ground in the forest, and when I +spied them were approaching their owner's cottage. +Arrived at the wooden gate of the garden in front +of the cottage, the leading bird drew up square +before it, and with repeated loud screams demanded +admittance. Pretty soon, in response to the +summons, a man came out of the cottage, walked +briskly down the garden path and opened the gate, +but only wide enough to put his right leg through; +then, placing his foot and knee against the leading +bird, he thrust him roughly back; as he did so +three young geese pressed forward and were allowed +to pass in; then the gate was slammed in the face +of the gander and the rest of his followers, and the +man went back to the cottage. The gander's indignation +was fine to see, though he had most +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg_200]</a></span> +probably experienced the same rude treatment +on many previous occasions. Drawing up to the +gate again he called more loudly than before; then +deliberately lifted a leg, and placing his broad +webbed foot like an open hand against the gate +actually tried to push it open! His strength was +not sufficient; but he continued to push and to +call until the man returned to open the gate and +let the birds go in.</p> + +<p>It was an amusing scene, and the behaviour of +the bird struck me as characteristic. It was this +lofty spirit of the goose and strict adhesion to his +rights, as well as his noble appearance and the +stately formality and deliberation of his conduct, +that caused me very long ago to respect and +admire him above all our domestic birds. Doubtless +from the ćsthetic point of view other domesticated +species are his superiors in some things: the mute +swan, "floating double," graceful and majestical, +with arched neck and ruffled scapulars; the oriental +pea-fowl in his glittering mantle; the helmeted +guinea-fowl, powdered with stars, and the red cock +with his military bearing—a shining Elizabethan +knight of the feathered world, singer, lover, and +fighter. It is hardly to be doubted that, mentally, +the goose is above all these; and to my mind his, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg_201]</a></span> +too, is the nobler figure; but it is a very familiar +figure, and we have not forgotten the reason of its +presence among us. He satisfies a material want +only too generously, and on this account is too +much associated in the mind with mere flavours. +We keep a swan or a peacock for ornament; a +goose for the table—he is the Michaelmas and +Christmas bird. A somewhat similar debasement +has fallen on the sheep in Australia. To the man +in the bush he is nothing but a tallow-elaborating +organism, whose destiny it is to be cast, at maturity, +into the melting vat, and whose chief use it is to +lubricate the machinery of civilisation. It a little +shocks, and at the same time amuses, our Colonial +to find that great artists in the parent country +admire this most unpoetic beast, and waste their +time and talents in painting it.</p> + +<p>Some five or six years ago, in the <i>Alpine Journal</i>, +Sir Martin Conway gave a lively and amusing +account of his first meeting with A. D. M'Cormick, +the artist who subsequently accompanied him to +the Karakoram Himalayas. "A friend," he wrote, +"came to me bringing in his pocket a crumpled-up +water sketch or impression of a lot of geese. I +was struck by the breadth of the treatment, and I +remember saying that the man who could see such +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg_202]</a></span> +monumental magnificence in a flock of geese ought +to be the kind of man to paint mountains, and +render somewhat of their majesty."</p> + +<p>I will venture to say that he looked at the sketch +or impression with the artist's clear eye, but had +not previously so looked at the living creature; +or had not seen it clearly, owing to the mist of +images—if that be a permissible word—that floated +between it and his vision—remembered flavours +and fragrances, of rich meats, and of sage and +onions and sweet apple sauce. When this interposing +mist is not present, who can fail to admire +the goose—that stately bird-shaped monument of +clouded grey or crystal white marble, to be seen +standing conspicuous on any village green or common +in England? For albeit a conquered bird, something +of the ancient wild and independent spirit +survives to give him a prouder bearing than we +see in his fellow feathered servants. He is the +least timid of our domestic birds, yet even at a +distance he regards your approach in an attitude +distinctly reminiscent of the grey-lag goose, the +wariest of wild fowl, stretching up his neck and +standing motionless and watchful, a sentinel on +duty. Seeing him thus, if you deliberately go +near him he does not slink or scuttle away, as other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg_203]</a></span> +domestic birds of meaner spirits do, but boldly +advances to meet and challenge you. How keen +his senses are, how undimmed by ages of captivity +the ancient instinct of watchfulness is in him, every +one must know who has slept in lonely country +houses. At some late hour of the night the sleeper +was suddenly awakened by the loud screaming of +the geese; they had discovered the approach of +some secret prowler, a fox perhaps, or a thievish +tramp or gipsy, before a dog barked. In many a +lonely farmhouse throughout the land you will be +told that the goose is the better watch-dog.</p> + +<p>When we consider this bird purely from the +ćsthetic point <ins title='Correction: was "if"'>of</ins> view—and here I am speaking of +geese generally, all of the thirty species of the sub-family +Anserinć, distributed over the cold and +temperate regions of the globe—we find that several +of them possess a rich and beautiful colouring, and, +if not so proud, often a more graceful carriage than +our domestic bird, or its original, the wild grey-lag +goose. To know these birds is to greatly admire +them, and we may now add that this admiration +is no new thing on the earth. It is the belief +of distinguished Egyptologists that a fragmentary +fresco, discovered at Medum, dates back to a time +at least four thousand years before the Christian +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg_204]</a></span> +era, and is probably the oldest picture in the world. +It is a representation of six geese, of three different +species, depicted with marvellous fidelity, and a +thorough appreciation of form and colouring.</p> + +<p>Among the most distinguished in appearance +and carriage of the handsome exotic species is the +Magellanic goose, one of the five or six species of +the Antarctic genus Chloëphaga, found in Patagonia +and the Magellan Islands. One peculiarity +of this bird is that the sexes differ in colouring, the +male being white, with grey mottlings, whereas the +prevailing colour of the female is a ruddy brown,—a +fine rich colour set off with some white, grey, +intense cinnamon, and beautiful black mottlings. +Seen on the wing the flock presents a somewhat +singular appearance, as of two distinct species +associating together, as we may see when by chance +gulls and rooks, or sheldrakes and black scoters, +mix in one flock.</p> + +<p>This fine bird has long been introduced into this +country, and as it breeds freely it promises to become +quite common. I can see it any day; but +these exiles, pinioned and imprisoned in parks, are +not quite like the Magellanic geese I was intimate +with in former years, in Patagonia and in the +southern pampas of Buenos Ayres, where they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg_205]</a></span> +wintered every year in incredible numbers, and +were called "bustards" by the natives. To see +them again, as I have seen them, by day and all +day long in their thousands, and to listen again by +night to their wild cries, I would willingly give up, +in exchange, all the invitations to dine which I shall +receive, all the novels I shall read, all the plays I +shall witness, in the next three years; and some +other miserable pleasures might be thrown in. +Listening to the birds when, during migration, on +a still frosty night, they flew low, following the +course of some river, flock succeeding flock all +night long; or heard from a herdsman's hut on the +pampas, when thousands of the birds had encamped +for the night on the plain hard by, the effect of +their many voices (like that of their appearance +when seen flying) was singular, as well as beautiful, +on account of the striking contrasts in the various +sounds they uttered. On clear frosty nights they +are most loquacious, and their voices may be heard +by the hour, rising and falling, now few, and now +many taking part in the endless confabulation—a +talkee-talkee and concert in one; a chatter as +of many magpies; the solemn deep, <i>honk-honk</i>, +the long, grave note changing to a shuddering +sound; and, most wonderful, the fine silvery +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg_206]</a></span> +whistle of the male, steady or tremulous, now long +and now short, modulated a hundred ways—wilder +and more beautiful than the night-cry of the widgeon, +brighter than the voice of any shore bird, or any +warbler, thrush or wren, or the sound of any wind +instrument.</p> + +<p>It is probable that those who have never known +the Magellanic goose in a state of nature are best +able to appreciate its fine qualities in its present +semi-domestic state in England. At all events +the enthusiasm with which a Londoner spoke of this +bird in my presence some time ago came to me rather +as a surprise. It was at the studio in St John's +Wood of our greatest animal painter, one Sunday +evening, and the talk was partly about birds, +when an elderly gentleman said that he was pleased +to meet some one who would be able to tell him +the name of a wonderful bird he had lately seen in +St James's Park. His description was vague; he +could not say what its colour was, nor what sort of +beak it had, nor whether its feet were webbed or +not; but it was a large tall bird, and there were +two of them. It was the way this bird had comported +itself towards him that had so taken him. +As he went through the park at the side of the enclosure, +he caught sight of the pair some distance +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg_207]</a></span> +away on the grass, and the birds, observing that he +had stopped in his walk to regard them, left off +feeding, or whatever they were doing, and came +to him. Not to be fed—it was impossible to believe +that they had any such motive; it was solely +and purely a friendly feeling towards him which +caused them immediately to respond to his look, +and to approach him, to salute him, in their way. +And when they had approached to within three or +four yards of where he stood, advancing with a +quiet dignity, and had then uttered a few soft low +sounds, accompanied with certain graceful gestures, +they turned and left him; but not abruptly, with +their backs towards him—oh, no, they did nothing +so common; they were not like other birds—they +were perfect in everything; and, moving from him, +half paused at intervals, half turning first to one +side then the other, inclining their heads as they +went. Here our old friend rose and paced up and +down the floor, bowing to this side and that and +making other suitable gestures, to try to give +us some faint idea of the birds' gentle courtesy +and exquisite grace. It was, he assured us, most +astonishing; the birds' gestures and motions +were those of a human being, but in their perfection +immeasurably superior to anything of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg_208]</a></span> +kind to be seen in any Court in Europe or the +world.</p> + +<p>The birds he had described, I told him, were no +doubt Upland Geese.</p> + +<p>"Geese!" he exclaimed, in a tone of surprise, +and disgust. "Are you speaking seriously? +Geese! Oh, no, nothing like geese—a sort of +ostrich!"</p> + +<p>It was plain that he had no accurate knowledge +of birds; if he had caught sight of a kingfisher or +green woodpecker, he would probably have described +it as a sort of peacock. Of the goose, he +only knew that it is a ridiculous, awkward creature, +proverbial for its stupidity, although very good to +eat; and it wounded him to find that any one +could think so meanly of his intelligence and taste +as to imagine him capable of greatly admiring any +bird called a goose, or any bird in any way related +to a goose.</p> + +<p>I will now leave the subject of the beautiful +antarctic goose, the "bustard" of the horsemen +of the pampas, and "sort of ostrich" of our +Londoner, to relate a memory of my early years, +and of how I first became an admirer of the familiar +domestic goose. Never since have I looked on it +in such favourable conditions.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg_209]</a></span> +Two miles from my home there stood an old +mud-built house, thatched with rushes, and shaded +by a few ancient half-dead trees. Here lived a +very old woman with her two unmarried daughters, +both withered and grey as their mother; indeed, +in appearance, they were three amiable sister +witches, all very very old. The high ground on +which the house stood sloped down to an extensive +reed- and rush-grown marsh, the source of an important +stream; it was a paradise of wild fowl, +swan, roseate spoonbill, herons white and herons +grey, ducks of half a dozen species, snipe and +painted snipe, and stilt, plover and godwit; the +glossy ibis, and the great crested blue ibis with a +powerful voice. All these interested, I might say +fascinated, me less than the tame geese that spent +most of their time in or on the borders of the marsh +in the company of the wild birds. The three old +women were so fond of their geese that they would +not part with one for love or money; the most +they would ever do would be to present an egg, in +the laying season, to some visitor as a special mark +of esteem.</p> + +<p>It was a grand spectacle, when the entire flock, +numbering upwards of a thousand, stood up on +the marsh and raised their necks on a person's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg_210]</a></span> +approach. It was grand to hear them, too, when, +as often happened, they all burst out in a great +screaming concert. I can hear that mighty uproar +now!</p> + +<p>With regard to the character of the sound: we +have seen in a former chapter that the poet Cowper +thought not meanly of the domestic grey goose as +a vocalist, when heard on a common or even in a +farmyard. But there is a vast difference in the +effect produced on the mind when the sound is +heard amid its natural surroundings in silent desert +places. Even hearing them as I did, from a distance, +on that great marsh, where they existed +almost in a state of nature, the sound was not +comparable to that of the perfectly wild bird in +his native haunts. The cry of the wild grey-lag +was described by Robert Gray in his <i>Birds of the +West of Scotland</i>. Of the bird's voice he writes: +"My most recent experiences (August 1870) in the +Outer Hebrides remind me of a curious effect which +I noted in connection with the call-note of this +bird in these quiet solitudes. I had reached South +Uist, and taken up my quarters under the hospitable +roof of Mr Birnie, at Grogarry ... and in +the stillness of the Sabbath morning following my +arrival was aroused from sleep by the cries of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg_211]</a></span> +grey-lags as they flew past the house. Their voices, +softened by distance, sounded not unpleasantly, +reminding me of the clanging of church bells in +the heart of a large town."</p> + +<p>It is a fact, I think, that to many minds the mere +wildness represented by the voice of a great wild +bird in his lonely haunts is so grateful, that the +sound itself, whatever its quality may be, delights, +and is more than the most beautiful music. A +certain distinguished man of letters and Church +dignitary was once asked, a friend tells me, why +he lived away from society, buried in the loneliest +village on the dreary East coast; at that spot +where, standing on the flat desolate shore you look +over the North Sea, and have no land between you +and far Spitzbergen. He answered, that he made +his home there because it was the only spot in +England in which, sitting in his own room, he could +listen to the cry of the pink-footed goose. Only +those who have lost their souls will fail to understand.</p> + +<p>The geese I have described, belonging to the +three old women, could fly remarkably well, and +eventually some of them, during their flights down +stream, discovered at a distance of about eight +miles from home the immense, low, marshy plain +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg_212]</a></span> +bordering the sea-like Plata River. There were +no houses and no people in that endless green, wet +land, and they liked it so well that they visited it +more and more often, in small flocks of a dozen to +twenty birds, going and coming all day long, until +all knew the road. It was observed that when a +man on foot or on horseback appeared in sight of +one of these flocks, the birds at this distance from +home were as wary as really wild birds, and watched +the stranger's approach in alarm, and when he was +still at a considerable distance rose and flew away +beyond sight.</p> + +<p>The old dames grieved at this wandering spirit +in their beloved birds, and became more and more +anxious for their safety. But by this time the +aged mother was fading visibly into the tomb, +though so slowly that long months went by while +she lay on her bed, a weird-looking object—I remember +her well—leaner, greyer, more ghost-like, +than the silent, lean, grey heron on the marsh hard +by. And at last she faded out of life, aged, it was +said by her descendants, a hundred and ten years; +and, after she was dead, it was found that of that +great company of noble birds there remained only +a small remnant of about forty, and these were +probably incapable of sustained flight. The others +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg_213]</a></span> +returned no more; but whether they met their +death from duck and swan shooters in the marshes, +or had followed the great river down to the sea, +forgetting their home, was never known. For +about a year after they had ceased going back, +small flocks were occasionally seen in the marshes, +very wild and strong on the wing, but even these, +too, vanished at last.</p> + +<p>It is probable that, but for powder and shot, the +domestic goose of Europe, by occasionally taking +to a feral life in thinly-settled countries, would +ere this have become widely distributed over the +earth.</p> + +<p>And one wonders if in the long centuries running +to thousands of years, of tame flightless existence, +the strongest impulse of the wild migrant has been +wholly extinguished in the domestic goose? We +regard him as a comparatively unchangeable species, +and it is probable that the unexercised faculty is +not dead but sleeping, and would wake again in +favourable circumstances. The strength of the +wild bird's passion has been aptly described by +Miss Dora Sigerson in her little poem, "The Flight +of the Wild Geese." The poem, oddly enough, is +not about geese but about men—wild Irishmen +who were called Wild Geese; but the bird's powerful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg_214]</a></span> +impulse and homing faculty are employed as +an illustration, and admirably described:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +Flinging the salt from their wings, and despair from their hearts<br /> +They arise on the breast of the storm with a cry and are gone.<br /> +When will you come home, wild geese, in your thousand strong?...<br /> +Not the fierce wind can stay your return or tumultuous sea,...<br /> +Only death in his reaping could make <ins title='Correction: was "yon"'>you</ins> return no more.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Now arctic and antarctic geese are alike in this +their devotion to their distant breeding-ground, +the cradle and true home of the species or race; +and I will conclude this chapter with an incident +related to me many years ago by a brother who +was sheep-farming in a wild and lonely district on +the southern frontier of Buenos Ayres. Immense +numbers of upland geese in great flocks used to +spend the cold months on the plains where he had +his lonely hut; and one morning in August in the +early spring of that southern country, some days +after all the flocks had taken their departure to +the south, he was out riding, and saw at a distance +before him on the plain a pair of geese. They +were male and female—a white and a brown bird. +Their movements attracted his attention and he +rode to them. The female was walking steadily +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg_215]</a></span> +on in a southerly direction, while the male, greatly +excited, and calling loudly from time to time, +walked at a distance ahead, and constantly turned +back to see and call to his mate, and at intervals +of a few minutes he would rise up and fly, screaming, +to a distance of some hundreds of yards; then +finding that he had not been followed, he would +return and alight at a distance of forty or fifty +yards in advance of the other bird, and begin walking +on as before. The female had one wing broken, +and, unable to fly, had set out on her long journey +to the Magellanic Islands on her feet; and her +mate, though called to by that mysterious imperative +voice in his breast, yet would not forsake +her; but flying a little distance to show her the +way, and returning again and again, and calling +to her with his wildest and most piercing cries, +urged her still to spread her wings and fly with +him to their distant home.</p> + +<p>And in that sad, anxious way they would journey +on to the inevitable end, when a pair or family of +carrion eagles would spy them from a great distance—the +two travellers left far behind by +their fellows, one flying, the other walking; and +the first would be left to continue the journey +alone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg_216]</a></span> +Since this appreciation was written a good many +years ago I have seen much of geese, or, as it might +be put, have continued my relations with them and +have written about them too in my <i>Adventures +among Birds</i> (1913). In recent years it has become +a custom of mine to frequent Wells-next-the-Sea +in October and November just to welcome the +wild geese that come in numbers annually to winter +at that favoured spot. Among the incidents related +in that last book of mine about the wild geese, +there were two or three about the bird's noble and +dignified bearing and its extraordinary intelligence, +and I wish here to return to that subject just to +tell yet one more goose story: only in this instance +it was about the domestic bird.</p> + +<p>It happened that among the numerous letters I +received from readers of <i>Birds and Man</i> on its first +appearance there was one which particularly interested +me, from an old gentleman, a retired +schoolmaster in the cathedral city of Wells. He +was a delightful letter-writer, but by-and-bye our +correspondence ceased and I heard no more of him +for three or four years. Then I was at Wells, +spending a few days looking up and inquiring after +old friends in the place, and remembering my +pleasant letter-writer I went to call on him. During +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg_217]</a></span> +our conversation he told me that the chapter +which had impressed him most in my book was +the one on the goose, especially all that related to +the lofty dignified bearing of the bird, its independent +spirit and fearlessness of its human masters, +in which it differs so greatly from all other domestic +birds. He knew it well; he had been feelingly +persuaded of that proud spirit in the bird, and had +greatly desired to tell me of an adventure he had +met with, but the incident reflected so unfavourably +on himself, as a humane and fair-minded or +sportsmanlike person, that he had refrained. However, +now that I had come to see him he would +make a clean breast of it.</p> + +<p>It happened that in January some winters ago, +there was a very great fall of snow in England, +especially in the south and west. The snow fell +without intermission all day and all night, and on +the following morning Wells appeared half buried +in it. He was then living with a daughter who +kept house for him in a cottage standing in its own +grounds on the outskirts of the town. On attempting +to leave the house he found they were shut in +by the snow, which had banked itself against the +walls to the height of the eaves. Half an hour's +vigorous spade work enabled him to get out from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg_218]</a></span> +the kitchen door into the open, and the sun in a +blue sky shining on a dazzling white and silent +world. But no milkman was going his rounds, +and there would be no baker nor butcher nor any +other tradesman to call for orders. And there +were no provisions in the house! But the milk +for breakfast was the first thing needed, and so +with a jug in his hand he went bravely out to try +and make his way to the milk shop which was not +far off.</p> + +<p>A wall and hedge bounded his front garden on +one side, and this was now entirely covered by an +immense snowdrift, sloping up to a height of about +seven feet. It was only when he paused to look +at this vast snow heap in his garden that he caught +sight of a goose, a very big snow-white bird without +a grey spot in its plumage, standing within a few +yards of him, about four feet from the ground. +Its entire snowy whiteness with snow for a background +had prevented him from seeing it until he +looked directly at it. He stood still gazing in +astonishment and admiration at this noble bird, +standing so motionless with its head raised high +that it was like the figure of a goose carved out of +some crystalline white stone and set up at that +spot on the glittering snowdrift. But it was no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg_219]</a></span> +statue; it had living eyes which without the least +turning of the head watched him and every motion +he made. Then all at once the thought came into +his head that here was something, very good +succulent food in fact, sent, he almost thought providentially, +to provision his house; for how easy +it would be for him as he passed the bird to throw +himself suddenly upon and capture it! It had +belonged to some one, no doubt, but that great +snowstorm and the furious north-east wind had +blown it far far from its native place and it was +lost to its owner for ever. Practically it was now +a wild bird free for him to take without any qualms +and to nourish himself on its flesh while the snow +siege lasted. Standing there, jug in hand, he +thought it out, and then took a few steps towards +the bird in order to see if there was any sign of +suspicion in it; but there was none, only he could +see that the goose without turning its head was +all the time regarding him out of the corner of one +eye. Finally he came to the conclusion that his +best plan was to go for the milk and on his return +to set the jug down by the gate when coming in, +then to walk in a careless, unconcerned manner +towards the door, taking no notice of the goose +until he got abreast of it, and then turn suddenly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg_220]</a></span> +and hurl himself upon it. Nothing could be easier; +so away he went and in about twenty minutes was +back again with the milk, to find the bird in the +same place standing as before motionless in the +same attitude. It was not disturbed at his coming +in at the gate, nor did it show the slightest disposition +to move when he walked towards it in +his studied careless manner. Then, when within +three yards of it, came the supreme moment, and +wheeling suddenly round he hurled himself with +violence upon his victim, throwing out his arms +to capture it, and so great was the impulse he had +given himself that he was buried to the ankles in +the drift. But before going into it, in that brief +moment, the fraction of a second, he saw what +happened; just as his hands were about to touch +it the wings opened and the bird was lifted from +its stand and out of his reach as if by a miracle. +In the drift he was like a drowning man, swallowing +snow into his lungs for water. For a few dreadful +moments he thought it was all over with him; +then he succeeded in struggling out and stood +trembling and gasping and choking, blinded with +snow. By-and-bye he recovered and had a look +round, and lo! there stood his goose on the summit +of the snow bank about three yards from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg_221]</a></span> +spot where it had been! It was standing as before, +perfectly motionless, its long neck and head raised, +and was still in appearance the snow-white figure +of a carved bird, only it was more conspicuous +and impressive now, being outlined against the +blue sky, and as before it was regarding him out +of the corner of one eye. He had never, he said, +felt so ashamed of himself in his life! If the bird +had screamed and fled from him it would not have +been so bad, but there it had chosen to remain, as +if despising his attempt at harming it too much +even to feel resentment. A most uncanny bird! +it seemed to him that it had divined his intention +from the first and had been prepared for his every +movement; and now it appeared to him to be +saying mentally: "Have you got no more plans +to capture me in your clever brain, or have you +quite given it up?"</p> + +<p>Yes, he had quite, quite given it up!</p> + +<p>And then the goose, seeing there were no more +plans, quietly unfolded its wings and rose from the +snowdrift and flew away over the town and the +cathedral away on the further side, and towards +the snow-covered Mendips; he standing there watching +it until it was lost to sight in the pale sky.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="THE_DARTFORD_WARBLER" id="THE_DARTFORD_WARBLER"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg_222]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER XII</div> + +<div class="caption2">THE DARTFORD WARBLER</div> + +<div class="caption3">HOW TO SAVE OUR RARE BIRDS</div> + +<p>The most interesting chapter in John Burroughs' +<i>Fresh Fields</i> contains an account of an anxious +hurried search after a nightingale in song, at a +time of the year when that "creature of ebullient +heart" somewhat suddenly drops into silence. A +few days were spent by the author in rushing about +the country in Surrey and Hampshire, with the +result that once or twice a few musical throbs of +sound, a trill, a short detached phrase, were heard—just +enough to convince the eager listener that +here was a vocalist beautiful beyond all others, +and that he had missed its music by appearing a +very few days too late on the scene.</p> + +<p>During the last seven or eight years I have read +this chapter several times with undiminished interest, +and with a feeling of keen sympathy for +the writer in his disappointment; for it is the +case that I, too, all this time, have been in chase +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg_223]</a></span> +of a small British songster—a rare elusive bird, +hard to find at any time as it is to hear a nightingale +pour out its full song in the last week in June. +In these years I have, at every opportunity, in +spring, summer, and autumn, sought for the bird +in the southern half of England, chiefly in the +south and south-western counties. In the Midlands, +and in Devonshire, where he was formerly +well known, but where the authorities say he is +now extinct, I failed to find him. I found him +altogether in four counties, in a few widely-separated +localities; in every case in such small numbers +that I was reluctantly forced to give up a long-cherished +hope that this species might yet recover +from the low state, with regard to numbers, in +which it fingers, and be permanently preserved +as a member of the British avifauna.</p> + +<p>It would indeed hardly be reasonable to entertain +such a hope, when we consider that the furze +wren, or Dartford warbler, as it is named in books, +is a small, frail, insectivorous species, a feeble flyer +that must brave the winters at home; that down +to within thirty years ago it was fairly common, +though local, in the south of England, and ranged +as far north as the borders of Yorkshire, and that +in this period it has fallen to its present state, when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg_224]</a></span> +but a few pairs and small colonies, wide apart, +exist in isolated patches of furze in four or five, +possibly six, counties.</p> + +<p>There can be no doubt that the decline of this +species, which, on account of its furze-loving habits, +must always be restricted to limited areas, is +directly attributable to the greed of private collectors, +who are all bound to have specimens—as +many as they can get—both of the bird and its +nest and eggs. Its strictly local distribution made +its destruction a comparatively easy task. In 1873 +Gould wrote in his large work on <i>British Birds</i>: +"All the commons south of London, from Blackheath +and Wimbledon to the coast, were formerly +tenanted by this little bird; but the increase in +the number of collectors has, I fear, greatly thinned +them in all the districts near the metropolis; it is +still, however, very abundant in many parts of +Surrey and Hampshire." It did not long continue +"very abundant." Gould was shown the bird, and +supplied with specimens, by a man named Smithers, +a bird-stuffer of Churt, who was at that time collecting +Dartford warblers and their eggs for the +trade and many private persons, on the open heath +and gorse-grown country that lies between Farnham +and Haslemere. Gould in the work quoted, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg_225]</a></span> +adds: "As most British collectors must now be +supplied with the eggs of the furze wren, I trust +Mr Smithers will be more sparing in the future." +So little sparing was he, that when he died, but few +birds were left for others of his detestable trade +who came after him.</p> + +<p>Three or four years ago I got in conversation +with a heath-cutter on Milford Common, a singular +and brutal-looking fellow, of the half-Gypsy Devil's +Punch-Bowl type, described so ably by Baring-Gould +in his <i>Broom Squire</i>. He told me that when +he was a boy, about thirty-five years ago, the furze +wren was common in all that part of the country, +until Smithers' offer of a shilling for every clutch +of eggs, had set the boys from all the villages in the +district hunting for the nests. Many a shilling +had he been paid for the nests he found, but in a +few years the birds became rare; and he added +that he had not now seen one for a very long time.</p> + +<p>In Clark's Kennedy's <i>Birds of Berkshire and +Buckinghamshire</i> we get a glimpse of the furze +wren collecting business at an earlier date and +nearer the metropolis. In 1868 he wrote:—"The +only locality in the two counties in which this +species is at all numerous, is a common in the +vicinity of Sunninghill, where it is found breeding +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg_226]</a></span> +every summer, and from whence a person in the +neighbourhood obtains specimens at all times of the +year, with which to supply the London bird-stuffers."</p> + +<p>When the district worked by Smithers, and +the neighbouring commons round Godalming, +where Newman in his <i>Letters of Rusticus</i> says he +had seen the "tops of the furze quite alive with +these birds," had been depleted, other favourite +haunts of the little doomed furze-lover were visited, +and for a time yielded a rich harvest. In a few +years the bird was practically extirpated; in the +sixties and seventies it was common, now there are +many young ornithologists with us who have never +seen it (in this country at all events) in a state of +nature. In some cases even persons interested in +bird life, some of them naturalists too, did not know +what was going on in their immediate neighbourhood +until after the bird was gone. I met with a +case of the kind, a <ins title='Correction: was "vey"'>very</ins> strange case indeed, in the +summer of 1899, at a place near the south coast +where the bird was common after it had been +destroyed in Surrey, but does not now exist. In +my search for information I paid a visit to the +octogenarian vicar of a small rustic village. He +was a native of the parish, and loved his home above +all places, even as White loved Selborne, and had been +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg_227]</a></span> +a clergyman in it for over sixty years; moreover +he was, I was told, a keen naturalist, and though +not a collector nor a writer of books, he knew every +plant and every wild animal to be found in the +parish. He better than another, I imagined, would +be able to give me some authentic local information.</p> + +<p>I found him in his study—a tall, handsome, +white-haired old man, very feeble; he rose, and +supporting his steps with a long staff, led me out +into the grounds and talked about nature. But his +memory, like his strength, was failing; he seemed, +indeed, but the ruin of a man, although still of a +very noble presence. What he called the vicarage +gardens, where we strolled about among the trees, +was a place without walks, all overgrown with grass +and wildings; for roses and dahlias he showed me +fennel, goat's-beard, henbane, and common hound's +tongue; and when speaking of their nature he stroked +their leaves and stems caressingly. He loved these +better than the gardener's blooms, and so did I; +but I wanted to hear about the vanished birds of the +district, particularly the furze wren, which had +survived all the others that were gone.</p> + +<p>His dim eyes brightened for a moment with old +pleasant memories of days spent in observing these +birds; and leading me to a spot among the trees, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg_228]</a></span> +from which there was a view of the open country +beyond, he pointed to a great green down, a couple +of miles away, and told me that on the other side I +would come on a large patch of furze, and that by +sitting quietly there for half an hour or so I might +see a dozen furze wrens. Then he added: "A dozen, +did I say? Why, I saw not fewer than forty or +fifty flitting about the bushes the very last time I +went there, and I daresay if you are patient enough +you will see quite as many."</p> + +<p>I assured him that there were no furze wrens at +the spot he had indicated, nor anywhere in that +neighbourhood, and I ventured to add that he must +be telling me of what he had witnessed a good many +years ago. "No, not so many," he returned, "and +I am astonished and grieved to hear that the birds +are gone—four or five years, perhaps. No, it was +longer ago. You are right—I think it must be at +least fifteen years since I went to that spot the last +time. I am not so strong as I was, and for some +years have not been able to take any long walks."</p> + +<p>Fifteen years may seem but a short space of time +to a man verging on ninety; in the mournful story +of the extermination of rare and beautiful British +birds for the cabinet it is in reality a long period. +Fifteen years ago the honey buzzard was a breeding +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg_229]</a></span> +species in England, and had doubtless been so for +thousands of years. When the price of a "British-killed" +specimen rose to Ł25, and of a "British-taken" +egg to two or three or four pounds, the bird +quickly ceased to exist. Probably there is not a +local ornithologist in all the land who could not say +of some species that bred annually, within the +limits of his own country, that it has not been +extirpated within the last fifteen years.</p> + +<p>In the instance just related, when the aged vicar, +sorrying at the loss of the birds, began to recall the +rare pleasure it had given him to watch them disporting +themselves among the furze-bushes, something +of the illusion which had been in his mind imparted +itself to mine, for I could see what he was mentally +seeing, and the fifteen years dwindled to a very +brief space of time. Like Burroughs with the nightingale, +I, too, had arrived a few days too late on the +scene; the "cursed collector" had been beforehand +with me, as had indeed been the case on so +many previous occasions with regard to other species.</p> + +<p>A short time after my interview with the aged +vicar, at an inn a very few miles from the village, I +met a person who interested me in an exceedingly unpleasant +way. He was a big repulsive-looking man in +a black greasy coat—a human animal to be avoided; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg_230]</a></span> +but I overheard him say something about rare birds +which caused me to put on a friendly air and join in +the talk. He was a Kentish man who spent most +of his time in driving about from village to village, +and from farm to farm, in the southern counties, +in search of bargains, and was prepared to buy for +cash down anything he could find cheap, from an +old teapot, or a print, or copper scuttle, to a horse, +or cart, or pig, or a houseful of furniture. He also +bought rare birds in the flesh, or stuffed, and was +no doubt in league with a good many honest +gamekeepers in those counties. I had heard of +"travellers" sent out by the great bird stuffers to +go the rounds of all the big estates in some parts of +England, but this scoundrel appeared to be a traveller +in the business on his own account. I asked him if +he had done anything lately in Dartford warblers. +He at once became confidential, and said he had +done nothing but hoped shortly to do something +very good indeed. The bird, he said, was +supposed to be extinct in Kent, and on that account +specimens obtained in that county would command +a high price. Now he had but recently discovered +that a few—two or three pairs—existed at one spot, +and he was anxious to finish the business he had on +hand so as to go there and secure them. In answer +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg_231]</a></span> +to further questions, he said that the birds were in +a place where they could not very well be shot, but +that made no difference; he had a simple, effective +way of getting them without a gun, and he was sure +that not one would escape him.</p> + +<p>On my mentioning the fact that the Kent County +Council had obtained an order for an all the year +round protection of this very bird, he looked at me +out of the corners of his eyes and laughed, but said +nothing. He took it as a rather good joke on my part.</p> + +<p>There is not the slightest doubt that our wealthy +private collectors have created the class of injurious +wretches to which this man belonged.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<p>To some who have glanced at a little dusty, +out of shape mummy of a bird, labelled "Dartford +Warbler," in a museum, or private collection, or +under a glass shade, it may seem that I speak too +warmly of the pleasure which the sight of the small +furze-lover can give us. They have never seen it +in a state of nature, and probably never will. When +I consider all these British Passeres, which, seen at +their best, give most delight to the ćsthetic sense—the +jay, the "British Bird of Paradise," as I have +ventured to call it, displaying his vari-coloured +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg_232]</a></span> +feathers at a spring-time gathering; the yellow-green, +long-winged wood wren, most aërial and +delicate of the woodland warblers; the kingfisher, +flashing <ins title='Correction: was "torquoise"'>turquoise</ins> blue as he speeds by; the elegant +fawn-coloured, black-bearded tit, clinging to the +grey-green, swaying reeds, and springing from them +with a bell-like note; and the rose-tinted narrow-shaped +bottle-tit as he drifts by overhead in a +flock; the bright, lively goldfinch scattering the +silvery thistle-down on the air; the crossbill, that +quaint little many-coloured parrot of the north, +feeding on a pine-cone; the grey wagtail exhibiting +his graceful motions; and the golden-crested wren, +seen suspended motionless with swiftly vibrating +wings above his mate concealed among the clustering +leaves, in appearance a great green hawk-moth, his +opened and flattened crest a shining, flame-coloured +disc or shield on his head,—when I consider all +these, and others, I find that the peculiar charm of +each does not exceed in degree that of the furze +wren—seen at <i>his</i> best. He is of the type of the +white-throat, but idealised; the familiar brown, +excitable Sylvia, pretty as he is and welcome to +our hedges in April, is in appearance but a rough +study for the smaller, more delicately-fashioned +and richly-coloured Melizophilus, or furze-lover. On +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg_233]</a></span> +account of his excessive rarity he can now be seen +at his best only by those who are able to spend many +days in searching and in watching, who have the +patience to sit motionless by the hour; and at +length the little hideling, tired of concealment or +overcome by <ins title='Correction: was "curosity"'>curiosity</ins>, shows himself and comes +nearer and nearer, until the ruby red of the small +gem-like eye may been seen without aid to the +vision. A sprite-like bird in his slender exquisite +shape and his beautiful fits of excitement; fantastic +in his motions as he flits and flies from spray to spray, +now hovering motionless in the air like the wooing +gold-crest, anon dropping on a perch, to sit jerking +his long tail, his crest raised, his throat swollen, +chiding when he sings and singing when he chides, +like a refined and lesser sedge warbler in a +frenzy, his slate-black and chestnut-red plumage +showing rich and dark against the pure luminous +yellow of the massed furze blossoms. It is a sight +of fairy-like bird life and of flower which cannot +soon be forgotten. And I do not think that any +man who has in him any love of nature and of the +beautiful can see such a thing, and exist with its +image in his mind, and not regard with an extreme +bitterness of hatred those among us whose particular +craze it is to "collect" such creatures, thereby +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg_234]</a></span> +depriving us and our posterity of the delight the sight +of them affords.</p> + +<p>Of many curious experiences I have met in my +quest of the rare little bird, or of information concerning +it, I have related two or three: I have one +more to give—assuredly the strangest of all. I was out +for a day's ramble with the members of a Natural +History Society, at a place the name of which must +not be told, and was walking in advance of the +others with a Mr A., the leading ornithologist of the +county, one whose name is honourably known to all +naturalists in the kingdom. The Dartford warbler, +he said in the course of conversation, had unhappily +long been extinct in the county. Now it happened +that among those just behind us there was another +local naturalist, also well known outside his own +county—Mr B., let us call him. When I separated +from my companion this gentleman came to my side, +and said that he had overheard some of our talk, and +he wished me to know that Mr A. was in error in +saying that the Dartford warbler was extinct in the +county. There was one small colony of three or +four pairs to be found at a spot ten to eleven miles +from where we then were; and he would be glad +to take me to the place and show me the birds. The +existence of this small remnant had been known for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg_235]</a></span> +several years to half a dozen persons, who had +jealously kept the secret;—to their great regret +they had had to keep it from their best friend and +chief supporter of their Society, Mr A., simply +because it would not be safe with him. He was +enthusiastic about the native bird life, the number +of species the county could boast, etc., and sooner +or later he would incautiously speak about the +Dartford warbler, and the wealthy local collectors +would hear of it, with the result that the birds would +quickly be gathered into their cabinets.</p> + +<p>My informant went on to say that the greatest +offenders were four or five gentlemen in the place +who were zealous collectors. The county had +obtained a stringent order, with all-the-year-round +protection for its rare species. Much, too, had been +done by individuals to create a public opinion +favourable to bird protection, and among the +educated classes there was now a strong feeling +against the destruction by private collectors of all +that was best worth preserving in the local wild +bird life. But so far not the slightest effect had +been produced in the principal offenders. They +would have the rare birds, both the resident species +and the occasional visitants, and paid liberally for +all specimens. Bird-stuffers, gamekeepers—their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg_236]</a></span> +own and their neighbours'—fowlers, and all those +who had a keen eye for a feathered rarity, were in +their pay; and so the destruction went merrily +on. The worst of it was that the authors of the evil, +who were not only law-breakers themselves, but were +paying others to break the law, could not be touched; +no one could prosecute nor openly denounce them because +of their important social position in the county.</p> + +<p>There was nothing new to me in all this: it was +an old familiar story; I have given it fully, simply +because it is an accurate statement of what is being +done all over the country. There is not a county +in the kingdom where you may not hear of important +members of the community who are collectors of +birds and their eggs, and law-breakers, both directly +and indirectly, every day of their lives. They all +take, and pay for, every rare visitant that comes +in their way, and also require an unlimited supply +of the rarer resident species for the purpose of +exchange with other private collectors in distant +counties. In this way our finest species are gradually +being extirpated. Within the last few years we have +seen the disappearance (as breeding species) of the +ruff and reeve, marsh harrier, and honey buzzard; +and the species now on the verge of extinction, which +will soon follow these and others that have gone +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg_237]</a></span> +before, if indeed some of them have not already gone, +are the sea-eagle, osprey, kite, hen harrier, Montagu's +harrier, stone curlew, Kentish plover, dotterel, red-necked +phalarope, roseate tern, bearded tit, grey-lag +goose, and great skua. These in their turn will +be followed by the chough, hobby, great black-backed +gull, furze wren, crested tit, and others. +These are the species which, as things are going, will +absolutely and for ever disappear, as residents and +breeders, from off the British Islands. Meanwhile +other species that, although comparatively rare, are +less local in their distribution, are being annually +exterminated in some parts of the country: it is +poor comfort to the bird lover in southern England +to know that many species that formerly gave life +and interest to the scene, and have lately been done +to death there, may still be met with in the wilder +districts of Scotland, or in some forest in the north +of Wales. Finally, we have among our annual +visitants a considerable number of species which +have either bred in these islands in past times (some +quite recently), or else would probably remain to +breed if they were not immediately killed on arrival—bittern, +little bittern, night heron, spoonbill, stork, +avocet, black tern, hoopoe, golden oriole, and many +others of less well-known names.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg_238]</a></span> +This is the case, and that it is a bad one, and well-nigh +hopeless, no man will deny. Nevertheless, I +believe that it may be possible to find a remedy.</p> + +<p>That "destruction of beautiful things," about +which Ruskin wrote despairingly, "of late ending +in perfect blackness of catastrophe, and ruin of all +grace and glory in the land," has fallen, and continues +to fall, most heavily on the beautiful bird life +of our country. But the destruction has not been +unremarked and unlamented, and the existence of +a strong and widespread public feeling in favour of +the preservation of our wild birds has of late shown +itself in many ways, especially in the unopposed +legislation on the subject during the last few years, +and the willingness that Government and Parliament +have shown recently to consider a new Act. +There is no doubt that this feeling will grow until +it becomes too strong even for the selfish Philistines, +who are blind to all grace and glory in +nature, and incapable of seeing anything in a rare +and beautiful bird but an object to be collected. +Those who in the years to come will inherit the +numberless useless private collections now being +formed will make haste to rid themselves of such +unhappy legacies, by thrusting them upon local +museums, or by destroying them outright in their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg_239]</a></span> +anxiety to have it forgotten that one of their name +had a part in the detestable business of depriving +the land of these wonderful and beautiful forms of +life—a life which future generations would have +cherished as a dear and sacred possession.</p> + +<p>But we cannot afford to wait: we have been +made too poor in species already, and are losing +something further every year; we want a remedy now.</p> + +<p>So far two suggestions have been made. One +is an alteration in the existing law, which will allow +the infliction of far heavier fines on offenders. All +those who are acquainted with collectors and their +ways will at once agree that increased penalties +will not meet the case; that the only effect of such +an alteration in the law would be to make collectors +and the persons employed by them more careful +than they have yet found it necessary to be. The +other suggestion vaguely put forth is that something +of the nature of a private inquiry agency should +be established to find out the offenders, and that +they should be pilloried in the columns of some +widely-circulating journal, a method which has been +tried with some success in the cases of other classes +of obnoxious persons. This suggestion may be dismissed +at once as of no value; not one offence in a +hundred would be discovered by such means, and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg_240]</a></span> +greatest sinners, who are not infrequently the most +intelligent men, would escape scot free.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I should have said that <i>three</i> suggestions +have been made, for there is yet another, put forward +by Mr Richard Kearton in one of his late books. +He is thoroughly convinced, he tells us, that the +County Council orders are perfectly useless in the +case of any and every rare bird which collectors +covet; and on that point we are all agreed; he +then says: "We should select a dozen species +admitted by a committee of practical ornithologists +to be in danger, and afford them personal protection +during the whole of the breeding season by placing +reliable watchers, night and day, upon the nesting-ground."</p> + +<p>Watchers provided and paid by individuals and +associations have been in existence these many +years, and this is undoubtedly the best plan in the +case of all species which breed in colonies. These +are mostly sea-birds—gulls, terns, cormorants, guillemots, +razor-bills, etc. Our rare birds are distributed +over the country, and in the case of some, if a hundred +pairs of a species exist in the British Islands, a +hundred or two hundred watchers would have to be +engaged. But who that has any knowledge of what +goes on in the collecting world does not know that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg_241]</a></span> +the guarded birds would be the first to vanish? I +have seen such things—pairs of rare birds breeding +in private grounds, where the keepers had strict +orders to watch over them, and no stranger could +enter without being challenged, and in a little +while they have mysteriously disappeared. The +"watcher" is good enough on the exposed sea-coast +or island where an eye is kept on his doings, +and where the large number of birds in his charge +enables him to do a little profitable stealing and +still keep up an appearance of honesty. I have +visited most of the watched colonies, and therefore +know. The watchers, who were paid a pound a +week for guarding the nests, were not chary of their +hints, and I have also been told in very plain words +that I could have any eggs I wanted.</p> + +<p>It is hardly necessary to say here that the proposed +alteration in the law to make it protective of all +species will, so far as the private collector is concerned, +leave matters just as they are.</p> + +<p>There is really only one way out of the difficulty,—one +remedy for an evil which grows in spite of +penalties and of public opinion,—namely, a law to +forbid the making of collections of British birds by +private persons. If all that has been done in and +out of Parliament since 1868 to preserve our wild +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg_242]</a></span> +birds—not merely the common abundant species, +which are not regarded by collectors, but <i>all</i> species—is +not to be so much labour wasted, such a law must +sooner or later be made. It will not be denied by +any private collector, whether he clings to the old +delusion that it is to the advantage of science that +he should have cabinets full of "British killed" +specimens or not,—it will not be denied that the +drain on our wild bird life caused by collecting is a +constantly increasing one, and that no fresh legislation +on the lines of previous bird protection Acts +can arrest or diminish that drain. Thirty years +ago, when the first Act was passed, which prohibited +the slaughter of sea-birds during the breeding +season, the drain on the bird life which is valued by +collectors was far less than it is now; not only +because there are a dozen or more collectors now +where there was one in the sixties, but also because +the business of collecting has been developed and +brought to perfection. All the localities in which +the rare resident species may be looked for are known, +while the collectors all over the country are in touch +with each other, and have a system of exchanges as +complete as it is deadly to the birds. Then there is +the money element; bird-collecting is not only the +hobby of hundreds of persons of moderate means and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg_243]</a></span> +of moderate wealth, but, like horse-racing, yachting, +and other expensive forms of sport, it now attracts +the very wealthy, and is even a pastime of millionaires. +All this is a familiar fact, and clearly shows +that without such a law as I have suggested it has +now become impossible to save the best of our wild +bird life.</p> + +<p>The collectors will doubtless cry out that such +a law would be a monstrous injustice, and an unwarrantable +interference with the liberty of the +subject; that there is really no more harm in collecting +birds and their eggs than in collecting old +prints, Guatemalan postage stamps, samplers, and +first editions of minor poets; that to compel them +to give up their treasures, which have cost them infinite +pains and thousands of pounds to get together, +and to abandon the pursuit in which their happiness +is placed, would be worse than confiscation and downright +tyranny; that the private collectors cannot +properly be described as law-breakers and injurious +persons, since they count among their numbers +hundreds of country gentlemen of position, professional +men (including clergymen), noblemen, +magistrates, and justices of the peace, and distinguished +naturalists—all honourable men.</p> + +<p>To put in one word on this last very delicate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg_244]</a></span> +point: Where, in collecting, does the honourable +man draw the line, and sternly refuse to enrich his +cabinet with a long-wished-for specimen of a rare +British species?—a specimen "in the flesh," not +only "British killed" but obtained in the county; +not killed wantonly, nor stolen by some poaching +rascal, but unhappily shot in mistake for something +else by an ignorant young under-keeper, who, +in fear of a wigging, took it secretly to a friend at a +distance and gave it to him to get rid of. The story +of the unfortunate killing of the rare bird varies in +each case when it has to be told to one whose standard +of morality is very high even with regard to his hobby. +My experience is, that where there are collectors +who are men of means, there you find their parasites, +who know how to treat them, and who feed on their +enthusiasms.</p> + +<p>In my rambles about the country during the last +few years, I have neglected no opportunity of conversing +with landowners and large tenants on this +subject, and, with the exception of one man, all those +I have spoken to agreed that owners generally—not +nine in every ten, as I had put it, but ninety-nine +in every hundred—would gladly welcome a law to +put down the collecting of British birds by private +persons. The one man who disagreed is the owner +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg_245]</a></span> +of an immense estate, and he was the bitterest of all +in denouncing the scoundrels who came to steal his +birds; and if a law could be made to put an end to +such practices he would, he said, be delighted; but +he drew the line at forbidding a man to collect birds +on his own property. "No, no!" he concluded; +"<i>that</i> would be an interference with the liberty of the +subject." Then it came out that he was a collector +himself, and was very proud of the rare species in +his collection! If I had known that before, I should +not have gone out of my way to discuss the subject +with him.</p> + +<p>Clearly, then, there is a very strong case for +legislation. How strong the case is I am not yet +able to show, my means not having enabled me to +carry out an intention of discussing the subject +with a much greater number of landowners, and of +addressing a circular later stating the case to all +the landlords and shooting-tenants in the country. +That remains to be done; in the meantime this +chapter will serve to bring the subject to the +attention of a considerable number of persons who +would prefer that our birds should be preserved +rather than that they should be exterminated in +the interests of a certain number of individuals whose +amusement it is to collect such objects.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg_246]</a></span> +That a law on the lines suggested will be made +sooner or later is my belief: that it may come soon +is my hope and prayer, lest we have to say of the +Dartford warbler, and of twenty other species named +in this chapter, as we have had to say of so many +others that have gone</p> + +<div class="poem"> +The beautiful is vanished and returns not.<br /> +</div> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—The foregoing chapter, albeit written so many years +ago, is still "up-to-date"—still represents without a shadow of +a shade of difference the state of the case. The extermination +of our rare birds and "occasional visitors" still goes merrily +on in defiance of the law, and the worst <ins title='Correction: was "offender's"'>offenders</ins> are still received +with open arms by the British Ornithologists' Union. Indeed, +that Society, from the point of view of many of its members +would have no <i>raison d'ętre</i> if membership were denied to the +private collector of rare "British killed" birds and their eggs +and to the "scientific" ornithologist whose mission is to add +several new species annually to the British list. They still +dine together and exhibit their specimens to one another. On +the last occasion of my attending one of these meetings a member +exhibited a small bird "in the flesh"—a bird from some far +country which had been shot somewhere on the east coast and +was so knocked to pieces by the shot that the ornithologists +had great difficulty in identifying it. Although a collector +himself he was anxious to dispose of the specimen, but none of +his brother collectors would give him a five-pound note for it +owing to its condition. It was handed round and examined +and discussed by all the authorities present. I stood apart, +looking at a group of ornithologists bending over the shattered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg_247]</a></span> +specimen, all talking and arguing, when another member who +by chance was not a collector moved to my side and whispered +in my ear: "Just like a lot of little children!"</p> + +<p>Is it not time to say to these "little children" that they +must find a new toy—a fresh amusement to fill their vacant +hours: that birds—living flying birds—are a part of nature, +of this visible world in this island, the dwelling-place of some +forty-five or fifty millions of souls; that these millions have a +right in the country's wild life too—surely a better one than +that of a few hundreds of gentlemen of leisure who have money +to hire gamekeepers, bird-stuffers, wild-fowlers, and many +others, to break the law for them, and to take the punishment +when any is given?</p> + +<p>By <i>saying</i> it will be understood that I mean enacting a law +to prohibit private collection. It is surely time. But what +prospects are there of such an Act being passed by a Parliament +which has spent six years playing with a Plumage Prohibition +Bill!</p> + +<p>Well, just now we have a committee appointed by the Government +to consider the whole question of bird protection with a +view to fresh legislation. Will this committee recommend the +one and only way to put a stop to the continuous destruction +of our rarer birds? I don't think so. For such a law +would be aimed at those of their own class, at their friends, at +themselves.</p> + +<p>At the end of the chapter I gave an account of an interview +I had with a great landowner who happened to be a collector, +and who cried out that such a law as the one I suggested would +be an unwarrantable interference with the liberty of the subject. +Another interview years later was with one who is not only a +landowner, the head of a branch of a great family in the land, +but a great power in the political world as well, and, finally, +(<i>not</i> wonderful to relate) a great "protector of birds." "No," +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg_248]</a></span> +he said warmly, "I will not for a moment encourage you to +hope that any good will come of such a proposal. If any +person should bring in such a measure I would do everything +in my power to defeat it. I am a collector myself and I am +perfectly sure that such an interference with the liberty of the +subject would not be tolerated."</p> + +<p>That, I take it, is or will be the attitude of the committee +now considering the subject of our wild bird life and its better +protection.</p> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="VERT_VERT_OR_PARROT_GOSSIP" id="VERT_VERT_OR_PARROT_GOSSIP"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg_249]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER XIII</div> + +<div class="caption2">VERT—VERT; OR PARROT GOSSIP</div> + +<p>I am not an admirer of pet parrots. To me, and I +have made the discovery that to many others too, +it is a depressing experience, on a first visit to nice +people, to find that a parrot is a member of the +family. As a rule he is the most important member. +When I am compelled to stand in the admiring +circle, to look on and to listen while he exhibits his +weary accomplishments, it is but lip service that I +render: my eyes are turned inward, and a vision of +a green forest comes before them resounding with the +wild, glad, mad cries of flocks of wild parrots. This +is done purposely, and the sound which I mentally +hear and the sight of their vari-coloured plumage +in the dazzling sunlight are a corrective, and keep +me from hating the bird before me because of the +imbecility of its owners. In his proper place, which +is not in a tin cage in a room of a house, he is to be +admired above most birds; and I wish I could be +where he is living his wild life; that I could have +again a swarm of parrots, angry at my presence, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg_250]</a></span> +hovering above my head and deafening me with +their outrageous screams. But I cannot go to those +beautiful distant places—I must be content with an +image and a memory of things seen and heard, and +with the occasional sight of a bird, or birds, kept by +some intelligent person; also with an occasional +visit to the Parrot House in Regent's Park. There +the uproar, when it is at its greatest, when innumerable +discordant voices, shrill and raucous, unite in one +voice and one great cry, and persons of weak nerves +stop up their ears and fly from such a pandemonium, +is highly exhilarating.</p> + +<p>Of the most interesting captive parrots I have +met in recent years I will speak here of two. The +first was a St Vincent bird, <i>Chrysotis guildingi</i>, +brought home with seven other parrots of various +species by Lady Thompson, the wife of the then +Administrator of the Island. This is a handsome +bird, green, with blue head and yellow tail, and is +a member of an American genus numbering over +forty species. He received his funny specific name +in compliment to a clergyman who was a zealous +collector not of men's souls, but of birds' skins. +To ornithologists this parrot is interesting on account +of its rarity. For the last thirty years it has existed +in small numbers; and as it is confined to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg_251]</a></span> +island of St Vincent it is feared that it may become +extinct at no distant date. Altogether there are +about five hundred species of parrots in the world, +or about as many parrots as there are species of +birds of all kinds in Europe, from the great bustard, +the hooper swan, and golden eagle, to the little +bottle-tit whose minute body, stript of its feathers, +may be put in a lady's thimble. And of this multitude +of parrots the St Vincent Chrysotis, if it still +exists, is probably the rarest.</p> + +<p>The parrot I have spoken of, with his seven travelling +companions, arrived in England in December, +and a few days later their mistress witnessed a curious +thing. On a cold grey morning they were enjoying +themselves on their perches in a well-warmed room +in London, before a large window, when suddenly +they all together emitted a harsh cry of alarm or +terror—the sound which they invariably utter on the +appearance of a bird of prey in the sky, but at no +other time. Looking up quickly she saw that +snow in big flakes had begun to fall. It was the +birds' first experience of such a phenomenon, but +they had seen and had been taught to fear something +closely resembling falling flakes—flying feathers +to wit. The fear of flying feathers is universal +among species that are preyed upon by hawks. In +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg_252]</a></span> +a majority of cases the birds that exhibit terror and +fly into cover or sit closely have never actually seen +that winged thunderbolt, the peregrine falcon, strike +down a duck or pigeon, sending out a small cloud of +feathers; or even a harrier or sparrow-hawk pulling +out and scattering the feathers of a bird it has +captured, but a tradition exists among them that the +sight of flying feathers signifies danger to bird life.</p> + +<p>When I was in the young barbarian stage, and +my playmates were gaucho boys on horseback on +the pampas, they taught me to catch partridges in +their simple way with a slender cane twenty to +twenty-five feet long, a running noose at its tip made +from the fine pliant shaft of a rhea's wing feather. +The bird was not a real partridge though it looks like +it, but was the common or spotted <ins title='Correction: was "tinamu"'>tinamou</ins> of the +plains, <i>Nothura maculosa</i>, as good a table bird as our +partridge. Our method was, when we flushed a +bird, to follow its swift straight flight at a gallop, +and mark the exact spot where it dropped to earth +and vanished in the grass, then to go round the spot +examining the ground until the <ins title='Correction: was "tinamu"'>tinamou</ins> was detected +in spite of his protective colouring sitting close among +the dead and fading grass and herbage. The cane +was put out, the circle narrowed until the small +noose was exactly over the bird's head, so that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg_253]</a></span> +when he sprang into the air on being touched by the +slender tip of the cane he caught and strangled +himself. To make the bird sit tight until the noose +was actually over his head, we practised various +tricks, and a very common one was, on catching +sight of the close-squatting partridge, to start +plucking feathers from a previously-killed bird +hanging to our belt and scatter them on the wind. +Sometimes we were saved the trouble of scattering +feathers when we were followed by a pair of big +carrion hawks on the look-out for an escaped bird or for +any trifle we throw to them to keep them with us. +The effect was the same in both cases; the sight of the +flying feathers was just as terrifying as that of the +big hovering hawks, and caused the partridge to sit +close.</p> + +<p>This way of taking the <ins title='Correction: was "tinamu"'>tinamou</ins> may seem unsportsmanlike. +Well, if I were a boy in a wild +land again—with my present feelings about bird +life, I mean—I should not do it. Nor would I +shoot them; for I take it that the gun is the deadliest +instrument our cunning brains have devised to +destroy birds in spite of their bright instinct of self-preservation, +their faculty of flight, and their +intelligence. It is a hundred times more effective +than the boy-on-horseback's long cane with its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg_254]</a></span> +noose made of an ostrich feather—therefore more +unsportsmanlike.</p> + +<p>To return. The resemblance of falling flakes to +flying white feathers does not deceive birds +accustomed to the sight of snow: it is very striking, +nevertheless, and so generally recognised that most +persons in Europe have heard of the old woman +plucking her geese in the sky. It is curious to find +the subject discussed in Herodotus. In Book IV. +he says: "The Scythians say that those lands +which are situated in the northernmost parts of their +territories are neither visible nor practicable by reason +of the feathers that fall continually on all sides; +for the earth is so entirely covered, and the air is +so full of these feathers, that the sight is altogether +obstructed." Further on he says: "Touching the +feathers ... my opinion is that perpetual snows +fall in those parts, though probably in less quantity +during the summer than in winter, and whoever has +observed great abundance of snow falling will easily +comprehend what I say, for snow is not unlike +feathers."</p> + +<p>Probably the Scythians had but one word to +designate both. To go back to the St Vincent +parrot. Concerning a bird of that species I have +heard, and cannot disbelieve, a remarkable story. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg_255]</a></span> +During the early years of the last century a gentleman +went out from England to look after some +landed property in the island, which had come to +him by inheritance, and when out there he paid a +visit to a friend who had a plantation in the interior. +His friend was away when he arrived, and he was +conducted by a servant into a large, darkened, cool +room; and, tired with his long ride in the hot sun, +he soon fell asleep in his chair. Before long a loud +noise awoke him, and from certain scrubbing sounds +he made out that a couple of negro women were +engaged in washing close to him, on the other side +of the lowered window blinds, and that they were +quarrelling over their task. Of course the poor +women did not know that he was there, but he was +a man of a sensitive mind and it was a torture to +him to have to listen to the torrents of exceedingly +bad language they discharged at one another. It +made him angry. Presently his friend arrived and +welcomed him with a hearty hand-shake and asked +him how he liked the place. He answered that it +was a very beautiful place, but he wondered how his +friend could tolerate those women with their tongues +so close to his windows. Women with their tongues! +What did he mean? exclaimed the other in great +surprise. He meant, he said, those wretched nigger +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg_256]</a></span> +washerwomen outside the window. His host thereupon +threw up the blind and both looked out: no +living creature was there except a St Vincent parrot +<ins title='Correction: was "dosing"'>dozing</ins> on his perch in the shaded verandah. "Ah, +I see, the parrot!" said his friend. And he +apologised and explained that some of the niggers +had taken advantage of the bird's extraordinary +quickness in learning to teach him a lot of improper +stuff.</p> + +<p>Another parrot, which interested me more than +the St Vincent bird, was a member of the same +numerous genus, a double-fronted amazon, <i>Chrysotis +lavalainte</i>, a larger bird, green with face and +fore-part of head pure yellow, and some crimson +colour in the wings and tail. I came upon it at an +inn, the Lamb, at Hindon, a village in the South +Wiltshire downs. One could plainly see that it +was a very old bird, and, judging from the ragged +state of its plumage, that it had long fallen into the +period of irregular or imperfect moult—"the sere, +the yellow leaf" in the bird's life. It also had the +tremor of the very aged—man or bird. But its +eyes were still as bright as polished yellow gems and +full of the almost uncanny parrot intelligence. The +voice, too, was loud and cheerful; its call to its +mistress—"Mother, mother!" would ring through +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg_257]</a></span> +the whole rambling old house. He talked and laughed +heartily and uttered a variety of powerful whistling +notes as round and full and modulated as those of +any grey parrot. Now, all that would not have +attracted me much to the bird if I had not heard its +singular history, told to me by its mistress, the +landlady. She had had it in her possession fifty +years, and its story was as follows:—</p> + +<p>Her father-in-law, the landlord of the Lamb, had +a beloved son who went off to sea and was seen and +heard of no more for a space of fourteen years, when +one day he turned up in the possession of a sailor's +usual fortune, acquired in distant barbarous lands—a +parrot in a cage! This he left with his parents, +charging them to take the greatest care of it, as it +was really a very wonderful bird, as they would +soon know if they could only understand its language, +and he then began to make ready to set off again, +promising his mother to write this time and not to +stay away more than five or at most ten years.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, his father, who was anxious to keep +him, succeeded in bringing about a meeting between +him and a girl of his acquaintance, one who, he +believed, would make his son the best wife in the +world. The young wanderer saw and loved, and as +the feeling was returned he soon married and endowed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg_258]</a></span> +her with all his worldly possessions, which consisted +of the parrot and cage. Eventually he succeeded +his father as tenant of the Lamb, where he died many +years ago; the widow was grey when I first knew +her and old like her parrot; and she was like the bird +too in her youthful spirit and the brilliance of her +eyes.</p> + +<p>Her young sailor had picked up the bird at Vera +Cruz in Mexico. He saw a girl standing in the market +place with the parrot on her shoulder. She was +talking and singing to the bird, and the bird was +talking, whistling, and singing back to her—singing +snatches of songs in Spanish. It was a wonderful +bird, and he was enchanted and bought it, and brought +it all the way back to England and Wiltshire. It +was, the girl had told him, just five years old, and as +fifty years had gone by it was, when I first knew it, +or was supposed to be, fifty-five. In its Wiltshire +home it continued to talk and sing in Spanish, and +had two favourite songs, which delighted everybody, +although no one could understand the words. By +and by it took to learning words and sentences in +English, and spoke less in Spanish year after year +until in about ten to twelve years that language had +been completely forgotten. Its memory was not as +good as that of Humboldt's celebrated parrot of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg_259]</a></span> +Maipures, which had belonged to the Apures tribe +before they were exterminated by the Caribs. Their +language perished with them, only the long-living +parrot went on talking it. This parrot story took +the fancy of the public and was re-told in a hundred +books, and was made the subject of poems in several +countries—one by our own "Pleasures of Hope" +Campbell.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless I thought it would be worth while +trying a little Spanish on old Polly of the Lamb, and +thought it best to begin by making friends. It was +of little use to offer her something to eat. Poll was +a person who rather despised sweeties and kickshaws. +It had been the custom of the house for half a century +to allow Polly to eat what she liked and when she +liked, and as she—it was really a he—was of a social +disposition she preferred taking her meals with the +family and eating the same food. At breakfast she +would come to the table and partake of bacon and +fried eggs, also toast and butter and jam and +marmalade, at dinner it was a cut off the joint with +(usually) two vegetables, then pudding or tart with +pippins and cheese to follow. Between meals she +amused herself with bird seed, but preferred a meaty +mutton-bone, which she would hold in one hand or +foot and feed on with great satisfaction. It was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg_260]</a></span> +not strange that when I held out food for her she took +it as an insult, and when I changed my tactics and +offered to scratch her head she lost her temper altogether, +and when I persisted in my advances she +grew dangerous and succeeded in getting in several +nips with her huge beak, which drew blood from my +fingers.</p> + +<p>It was only then, after all my best blandishments +had been exhausted, and when our relations were at +their worst, that I began talking to her in Spanish, +in a sort of caressing falsetto like a "native" girl, +calling her "Lorito" instead of Polly, coupled with +all the endearing epithets commonly used by the +women of the green continent in addressing their +green pets. Polly instantly became attentive. She +listened and listened, coming down nearer to listen +better, the one eye she fixed on me shining like a +fiery gem. But she spoke no word, Spanish or +English, only from time to time little low inarticulate +sounds came from her. It was evident after two +or three days that she was powerless to recall the +old lore, but to me it also appeared evident that some +vague memory of a vanished time had been evoked—that +she was conscious of a past and was trying to +recall it. At all events the effect of the experiment +was that her hostility vanished, and we became +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg_261]</a></span> +friends at once. She would come down to me, +step on to my hand, climb to my shoulder, and +allow me to walk about with her.</p> + +<p>It saddened me a few months later to receive a +letter from her mistress announcing Polly's death, +on 2nd December 1909.</p> + +<p>I have thought since that this bird, instead of +being only five years old when bought, was probably +aged twenty-five years or more. Naturally, the +girl who had been sent into the market-place to +dispose of the bird would tell a possible buyer that +it was young; the parrots one wants to buy are +generally stated to be five years old. However, +it may be that the bird grew old before its time on +account of its extraordinary dietary. The parrot +may have an adaptive stomach, still, one is inclined +to think that half a century of fried eggs and bacon, +roast pork, boiled beef and carrots, steak and onions, +and stewed rabbit must have put a rather heavy +strain on its system.</p> + +<p>Many parrots have lived longer than Polly in +captivity, long as her life was; and here it strikes +me as an odd circumstance that Polly's specific +name was bestowed on the species, the double-fronted +amazon, as a compliment to the distinguished +French ornithologist, La Valainte, who has himself +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg_262]</a></span> +recorded the greatest age to which a captive parrot +has been known to attain. This bird was the +familiar African grey species. He says that it began +to lose its memory at the age of sixty, to moult +irregularly at sixty-five, that it became blind at +ninety, and died aged ninety-three.</p> + +<p>We may well believe that if parrots are able to +exist for fifty years to a century in the unnatural +conditions in which they are kept, caged or chained +in houses, over-fed, without using their enormously-developed +wing-muscles, the constant exercise of +which must be necessary to perfect health and vigour, +their life in a state of nature must be twice as long.</p> + +<p>To return to parrots in general. This bird has +perhaps more points of interest for us than any +other of the entire class: his long life, unique form, +and brilliant colouring, extreme sociability, intelligence +beyond that of most birds, and, last, his +faculty of imitating human speech more perfectly +than the birds of other families.</p> + +<p>The last is to most persons the parrot's greatest +distinction; to me it is his least. I do not find it so +wonderful as the imitative faculty of some mocking +birds or even of our delightful little marsh-warbler, +described in another book. This may be because I +have never had the good fortune to meet with a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg_263]</a></span> +shining example, for we know there is an extraordinary +difference in the talking powers of parrots, +even in those of the same species—differences as +great, in fact, as we find in the reasoning faculty +between dog and dog, and in the songs of different +birds of the same species. Not once but on several +occasions I have heard a song from some common +bird which took my breath away with astonishment. +I have described in another book certain blackbirds +of genius I have encountered. And what a +wonderful song that caged canary in a country +inn must have had, which tempted the great Lord +Peterborough, a man of some shining qualities, to +get the bird from its mistress, an old woman who +loved it and refused to sell it to him, by means of a +dishonest and very mean trick. Denied the bird, +he examined it minutely and went on his way. In +due time he returned with a canary closely resembling +the one he wanted in size, colour, and markings, +concealed on his person. He ordered dinner, and +when the good woman was gone from the room to +prepare it, changed his bird for hers, then, having +had his meal, went on his way rejoicing. Still he +was curious to learn the effect of his trick, and +whether or not she had noticed any difference in her +loved bird; so, after a long interval, he came once +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg_264]</a></span> +more to the inn, and seeing the bird in its cage in +the old place began to speak in praise of its beautiful +singing as he had heard it and remembered it so well. +She replied sadly that since he listened to and +wanted to buy it an unaccountable change had come +over her bird. It was silent for a spell, perhaps +sick, but when it resumed singing its voice had +changed and all the beautiful notes which everyone +admired were lost. The great man expressed his +regret, and went away chuckling at his deliciously +funny joke.</p> + +<p>The ordinary talking parrot is no more to me than +the ordinary or average canary, piping his thin expressionless +notes; he is a prodigy I am pleased not to +know. On the other hand there are numerous +authenticated cases of parrots possessed of really +surprising powers, and it was doubtless the mimicking +powers of such birds of genius which suggested such +fictions as that of the Totá Kuhami in the East; and +in Europe, Gresset's lively tale of <i>Vert Vert</i> and the +convent nuns.</p> + +<p>It was perhaps a parrot of this rare kind which +played so important a part in the early history of +South America. It is nothing but a legend of the +Guarani nation, which inhabit Paraguay, nevertheless +I do believe that we have here an account +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg_265]</a></span> +mainly true of an important event in the early +history of the race or nation. This parrot is not +the impossible bird of the fictitious Totá Kahami +order we all know, who not only mimics our +speech but knows the meaning of the words he +utters. He was nothing but a mimic, exceptionally +clever, and the moral of the story is the familiar one +that great events may proceed from the most trivial +causes, once the passions of men are inflamed.</p> + +<p>The tradition was related centuries ago to the +Jesuit Fathers in Paraguay, and I give it as they +tell it, briefly.</p> + +<div class="center">• • • • •</div> + +<p>In the beginning a great canoe came over the +waters from the east and was stranded on the shores +of Brazil. Out of the canoe came the brothers +Tupi and Guarani and their sons and daughters +with their husbands and wives and their children +and children's children.</p> + +<p>Tupi was the leader, and being the eldest was +called the father, and Tupi said to his brother: +Behold, this great land with all its rivers and forests, +abounding in fish and birds and beasts and fruit, is +ours, for there are no other men dwelling in it; but +we are few in number, let us therefore continue to +live together with our children in one village.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg_266]</a></span> +Guarani consented, and for many years they lived +together in peace and amity like one family, until at +last there came a quarrel to divide them. And it +was all about a parrot that could talk and laugh and +sing just like a man. A woman first found it in the +forest, and not wishing to burden herself with the rearing +of it she gave it to another woman. So well did +it learn to talk from its new mistress that everybody +admired it and it grew to be the talk of the village.</p> + +<p>Then the woman who had found and brought it, +seeing how much it was admired and talked about, +went and claimed it as her own. The other refused +to give it up, saying that she had reared it and had +taught it all it knew, and by doing so had become its +rightful owner.</p> + +<p>Now, no person could say which was in the right, +and the dispute was not ended and tongues continued +wagging until the husbands of the two women +became engaged in the quarrel. And then brothers +and sisters and cousins were drawn into it, until the +whole village was full of bitterness and strife, all +because of the parrot, and men of the same blood for +the first time raised weapons against one another. +And some were wounded and others killed in open +fight, and some were treacherously slain when +hunting in the forest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg_267]</a></span> +Now when things had come to this pass Tupi the +Father, called his brother to him and said: O brother +Guarani, this is a day of grief to us who had looked +to the spending of our remaining years together +with all our children at this place where we have lived +so long. Now this can no longer be on account of +the great quarrel about a parrot, and the shedding +of blood; for only by separating our two <ins title='Correction was "familes"'>families</ins> +can we save them from destroying one another. +Come then, let us divide them and lead them away +in opposite directions, so that when we settle again +they may be far apart. Guarani consented, and he +also said that Tupi was the elder and their head, and +was called the Father, and it was therefore in his +right to remain in possession of the village and of all +that land and to end his days in it. He, on his +part, would call his people together and lead them to +a land so distant that the two families would never +see nor hear of each other again, and there would +be no more bitter words and strife between them.</p> + +<p>Then the two old brothers bade each other an +eternal farewell, and Guarani led his people south a +great distance and travelled many moons until he +came to the River Paraguay, and settled there; and +his people still dwell there and are called by his name +to this day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg_268]</a></span> +Only, I beg to add, they do not call their nation +by that word, as the Spanish colonists first spelt it +in their carelessness, and as they pronounce it. +Heaven knows how <i>we</i> pronounce it! They, the +Guarani people, call themselves Wä-rä-nä-eé, in a +soft musical voice. Also they call their river, +which we spell Paraguay, and pronounce I don't +know how, Pä-rä-wä-eé.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="SOMETHING_PRETTY_IN_A_GLASS_CASE" id="SOMETHING_PRETTY_IN_A_GLASS_CASE"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg_269]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER XIV</div> + +<div class="caption2">SOMETHING PRETTY IN A GLASS CASE</div> + +<p>It was said by a Norfolk naturalist more than three-quarters +of a century ago, that the desire to possess +"something pretty in a glass case" caused the +killing of very many birds, especially of such as were +rare and beautiful, which if allowed to exist in our +country would maintain the species and be a constant +source of pleasure to all who beheld them. For who, +walking by a riverside, does not experience a thrill of +delight at the sudden appearance in the field of vision +of that living jewel, the shining blue kingfisher! +This is one of the favourites of all who desire to have +something pretty in a glass case in the cottage +parlour in room of the long-vanished pyramid of +wax flowers and fruit. It is, however, not only +the common people, the cottager and the village +publican who desire to possess such ornaments. You +see them also in baronial halls. Many a time on +visiting a great house the first thing the owner has +drawn my attention to has been his stuffed birds in +a glass case: but in the great houses the peregrine, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg_270]</a></span> +and hobby, and goshawk, and buzzard and harrier +are more prized than the kingfisher and other pretty +little birds.</p> + +<p>The Philistine we know is everywhere and is of all +classes.</p> + +<p>It is to me a cause of astonishment that these +mournful mementoes should be regarded as they +appear to be, as objects pleasing to the eye, like +pictures and statues, tapestries, and other decorative +works of art. The sight of a stuffed bird in a house +is revolting to me; it outrages our sense of fitness, +and is as detestable as stuffed birds and wings, +tails and heads, and beaks of murdered and mutilated +birds on women's headgear. "Properly speaking," +said St George Mivart in his greatest work, "there +is no such thing as a dead bird." The life is the bird, +and when that has gone out what remains is the case. +These dead empty cases are as much to me as to any +naturalist, and I can examine the specimens in a +museum cabinet with interest. But the mental +attitude is changed at the sight of these same dead +empty cases set up in imitation of the living creature; +and the more cleverly the stuffer has done his work +the more detestable is the result.</p> + +<p>It may be that some vague notion of a faint remnant +of life lingering in the life-like specimen with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg_271]</a></span> +glass eyes, is the cause of my hatred of the feathered +ornament in a glass case. At all events I have had +one experience, to be related here, which has almost +made me believe that the idea of a sort of post-mortem +life in the stuffed bird is not wholly fanciful. +I will call it:</p> +<br /> + +<div class="caption2">A DIALOGUE OF THE DEAD (AND STUFFED)</div> + +<p>Ever since I came the wind has been blowing a +gale on this furthermost, lonely, melancholy coast, +as if I had got not only to the Land's End, but to +the end of the world itself, to the confines of Old +Chaos his kingdom, a region where the elements are in +everlasting conflict. Two or three times during the +afternoon I have resolutely put on my cap and water-proof +and gone out to face it, only to be quickly +driven in again by the bitter furious blast. Yet it +was almost as bad indoors to have to sit and listen +by the hour to its ravings. From time to time I +get up and look through the window-pane at the few +cold grey naked cottages and empty bleak fields, +divided by naked grey stone fences, and, beyond the +fields, the foam-flecked, colder, greyer, more desolate +ocean. Would it be better, I wonder, to fight my +way down to those wave-loosened masses of granite +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg_272]</a></span> +by the sea, where I would hear the roar and thunder +of the surf instead of this perpetual insane howling +and screaming of the wind round the house? I +turn from the window with a shiver; a splash of +rain hurled against it has blotted the landscape +out; I go back once more to my comfortable easy-chair +by the fire. Patience! Patience! By and by, +I say to myself—I say it many times over—daylight +will be gone; then the lamp will be brought +in, the curtains drawn, and tea will follow, with +buttered toast and other good things. Then the +solacing pipe, and thoughts and memories and some +pleasant waking drawn to while away the time.</p> + +<p>What shall this dream be? Ah, what but the +best of all possible dreams on such a day as this—a +dream of spring! Somewhere in the sweet west +country I shall stand in a wood where beeches grow; +and it will be April, near the end of the month, before +the leaves are large enough to hide the blue sky +and the floating white clouds so far above their tops. +Perhaps I shall sit down on one of the huge root-branches, +"coiled like a grey old snake," so as to gaze +at ease before me at the cloud of purple-red boughs, +and interlacing twigs, sprinkled over with golden +buds and silky opening leaves of a fresh brilliant green +that has no match on the earth or sea, nor under the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg_273]</a></span> +earth in the emerald mines. I shall watch the love-flight +of the cushat above the wood, mounting higher +and higher, then gliding down on motionless dove-coloured +wings; and I shall listen to the wood +wren, ever wandering and singing in the tree-tops—singing +that same insistent, passionate—passionless +strain to which one could listen for ever.</p> + +<p>I shall ask for no other song, but there will be other +creatures there. Down the tall grey trunk of a +beech tree before me a squirrel will slip—down, +down nearly to the mossy roots, then pause and remain +so motionless as to seem like a squirrel-shaped +patch of bright chestnut-red moss or lichen or alga +on the grey bark. And on the next tree, but a little +distance off, I shall presently catch sight of another +listener and watcher—a green woodpecker clinging +vertically against the trunk, so still as to look like +a bird figure carved in wood and painted green and +gold and crimson.</p> + +<p>Just when I had got so far with the thought of +what my dream was to be, I raised my eyes from the +fire and allowed them to rest attentively for the first +time on a collection of ornaments crowded together +in a niche in the wall at the side of the fireplace. +The ornamental objects one sees in a cottage are as a +rule offensive to me, and I have acquired the habit +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg_274]</a></span> +of not seeing them; now I was compelled to look at +these. There were photographs, little china vases +and cups with boys or cupids, and things of that kind; +these I did not regard; my whole attention was +directed to a pair of glass-fronted cases and the +living creatures in them. They were not really +alive, but dead and stuffed and set up in life-like +attitudes, and one was a squirrel, the other a green +woodpecker. The squirrel with his back to his +neighbour sat up on his mossy wood, his bushy tail +thrown along his back, his two little hands grasping +a hazel-nut, which he was in the act of conveying +to his mouth. The green woodpecker was placed +vertically against his branch, his side towards his +neighbour, his head turned partly round so that he +looked directly at him with one eye. That wide-open +white glass eye and the whole attitude of the bird, +with his wings half open and beak raised, gave him +a wonderfully alert look, so that after regarding him +fixedly for some time I began to imagine that, +despite the old dead dusty look of the feathers, there +was something of life still remaining in him and that +he really was watching his neighbour with the nut +very intently.</p> + +<p>Why, of course he was alive—alive and speaking +to the squirrel! I could hear him distinctly. The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg_275]</a></span> +wind outside was madly beating against the house +and trying to force its way through the window, and +was making a hundred strange noises—little sharp +shrill broken sounds that mixed with and filled the +pauses between the wailing and shrieking gusts, and +somehow the woodpecker was catching these small +sounds in his beak and turning them into words.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he said. "Who are you and what +are you doing there?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a squirrel," responded the other. "I've said +so over and over again, but you will go on worrying +me! My only wish is that I could bring my tail just +a little more to the right so as to hide my head and +paws altogether from you."</p> + +<p>"But you can't. Hullo! squirrel, what are you +doing there? You forgot to tell me that."</p> + +<p>"I'm eating a nut, confound you! You know it; +I've told you ten thousand times. I can't ever get it +up quite close enough to bite it and I haven't tasted +one for seventeen years. One forgets what a thing +tastes like."</p> + +<p>"I know. I've been fasting just as long myself. +Never an ant's egg! Hullo! Have you got it up? +How does it taste?"</p> + +<p>"Taste! You fool! If I could only move I +wouldn't mind the nut; I'd go for you like a shot, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg_276]</a></span> +and if I could get at you I'd tear you to pieces. I +hate you!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you hate me, squirrel?"</p> + +<p>"More questions! Because you're green and +yellow like the woods where I lived. There were +beeches and oaks. And because your head is crimson +red like the agarics I used to find in the woods in +autumn. I used to eat them for fun just because +they said they were poisonous and it would kill you +to eat them."</p> + +<p>"And that's what you died of? Hullo! Why +don't you answer me? Where did you find red +agarics?</p> + +<p>"I've told you, I've told you, I've told you, in +Treve woods where I lived, very far from here on the +other side of Lostwithiel."</p> + +<p>"Treve woods, between the hills away beyond +Lostwithiel! Why, squirrel, that's where I lived."</p> + +<p>"So I've heard; you have said it every day and +every night these seventeen years. I hate you."</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Why do you hate me?"</p> + +<p>"I always disliked woodpeckers. I remember a +pair that made a hole in a beech near the tree my +drey was in. I played those two yafflers with their +laugh laugh laugh some good tricks, and the best of +all was when their young began to come out. One +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg_277]</a></span> +morning when the old birds were away I hid myself +in the fork above the hole and waited till they crept +out and up close to me, when I suddenly burst out +upon them, chattering and flourishing my tail, and +they were so terrified they actually lost their hold +on the bark and tumbled right down to the ground. +How I enjoyed it!"</p> + +<p>"You malicious little red beast! You chattering +little red devil! They were my young ones, and I +remember what a fright we were in when we came +back and saw what had happened. It was lucky we +didn't lose one! I shall never speak to you again. +There you may sit trying to eat your nut for another +seventeen years, and for a hundred years if this +horrible life is going to last so long, but you'll never +get another word from me."</p> + +<p>"I thought that would touch you, woodpecker! +Ha, ha, ha—who's the yaffler now? What a relief; +at last I shall be left to eat my nut in peace and +quiet, here in this glass case where they put me."</p> + +<p>"Why did they put us here?"</p> + +<p>"You are speaking to me! Are the hundred +years over so soon?"</p> + +<p>"There's no one else—what am I to do? Answer +me, why did they put us here? Answer me, little +red wretch! I don't mind now what you did—they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg_278]</a></span> +were not hurt after all. You didn't know what you +were doing—you had no young ones of your own."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't I indeed! My little ones were there +close by in the drey."</p> + +<p>"And when they were out of the drey did you +teach them to run about in the tree, and jump from +one branch to another, and pass from tree to tree?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw them leave the drey—I was shot."</p> + +<p>"Where was that, squirrel?"</p> + +<p>"In the Treve Woods where the big beeches are, +beyond Lostwithiel."</p> + +<p>"Never! Why, that's just where I lived and was +shot, too. Did it hurt you, squirrel?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I saw a flash and remembered +no more until I found myself dead in the man's +pocket pressed against some wet soft thing. Did +it hurt you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very much. I fell when he fired and tried to +get away, but he chased and caught me and the blood +ran out on to his hand. He wiped it off on his coat, +then squeezed my sides with his finger and thumb +until I was dead, then put me in his pocket. There +was some dead warm soft thing in it."</p> + +<p>Here there was a break in the talk owing to a +momentary lull in the wind. I listened intently, +but the shrieking and wailing noises without had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg_279]</a></span> +ceased and with them the sharp little voices had +died away. Then suddenly the wind rose and +shrieked again and the talk recommenced.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" said the woodpecker. "Do you see a +man sitting by the fire looking at us? He has been +staring at us that way all the evening."</p> + +<p>"What of it! Everyone who comes into this +room and sits by the fire does the same. It's nothing +new."</p> + +<p>"It is—it is! Listen to me, squirrel. He looks +as if he could hear and understand us. That's +new, isn't it? And he has a strange look in his +eyes. Do you know, I think he is going mad."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind, woodpecker. I shouldn't care +if he were to run out on to the rocks at the Land's +End and cast himself into the sea."</p> + +<p>"Nor should I. But just think, if before rashing +out to put an end to himself he should, in his raving +madness, snatch down our cases from the niche and +crush them into the grate with his heel!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, woodpecker? Could such a +thing happen?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if he really is insane, and if he is listening +to us, and we are making him worse."</p> + +<p>"If I could believe such a thing! I should cease +to hate you, woodpecker. No, no, I can't believe it!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg_280]</a></span> +"Just think, old neighbour, to have it end at last! +Burnt up to ashes and smoke—feathers and hair, +glass eyes, cottonwool stuffing and all!"</p> + +<p>"Never again to hear that everlasting Hullo! To +hate you and hate you and tell you a thousand +thousand times, only to begin it all over again!"</p> + +<p>"To fly up away in the smoke, out out out in +the wind and rain!"</p> + +<p>"The rain! the rain!"</p> + +<p>"The rain from the south-west that made me +laugh my loudest! Raining all day, wetting my +green feathers, wetting every green leaf in the woods +beyond Lostwithiel. Raining until all the stony +gullies were filled to overflowing, and the water ran +and gurgled and roared until the whole wood was +filled with the sound."</p> + +<p>"No, no, woodpecker, I can't, I can't believe it!"</p> + +<p>"It's true! It's true! Don't you see it coming, +squirrel? Look at him! Look at him! Now, now! +At last! At last! At last!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly their sharp agitated voices fell to a +broken whispering and died into silence. For the +wind had lulled again. Looking closely at them I +thought I could see a new expression in their immovable +glass eyes. It frightened me, I began to be +frightened at myself; for it now seemed to me that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg_281]</a></span> +I really was becoming insane, and I was suddenly +seized with a fierce desire to snatch the cases down +and crush them into the fire with my heel. To save +myself from such a mad act I jumped up, and picking +up my candle, hurried upstairs to my bedroom. No +sooner did I reach it than the wind was up again, +wailing and shrieking louder than ever, and between +the gusts there were the murmurings and strange +small noises of the wind in the roof, and once more +I began to catch the sound of their renewed talk. +"Gone! gone!" they said or seemed to say. "Our +last hope! What shall we do, what shall we do? +Years! Years! Years!" Then by and by the +tone changed, and there were question and answer. +"When was that, squirrel?" I heard; and then +a furious quarrel with curses from the squirrel, and +"hullos" and renewed questions from the woodpecker, +and memories of their life and death in +Treve Wood, beyond Lostwithiel.</p> + +<p>What wonder that, when hours later I fell asleep, +I had the most distressing and maddest dreams +imaginable!</p> + +<p>One dream was that when men die and go to hell, +they are sent in large baskets-full to the taxidermists +of the establishment, who are highly proficient +in the art, and set them up in the most perfect +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg_282]</a></span> +life-like attitudes, with wideawake glass eyes, blue or +dark, in their sockets, their hair varnished to preserve +its natural colour and glossy appearance. They are +placed separately in glass cases to keep them from the +dust, and the cases are set up in pairs in niches in the +walls of the palace of hell. The lord of the place +takes great pride in these objects; one of his favourite +amusements is to sit in his easy-chair in front of a +niche to listen by the hour to the endless discussions +going on between the two specimens, in which each +expresses his virulent but impotent hatred of the +other, damning his glass eyes; at the same time +relating his own happy life and adventures in the +upper sunlit world, how important a person he was +in his own parish of borough, and what a gorgeous +time he was having when he was unfortunately +nabbed by one of the collectors or gamekeepers in +his lordship's service.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="SELBORNE" id="SELBORNE"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg_283]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption1">CHAPTER XV</div> + +<div class="caption2">SELBORNE</div> + +<div class="caption3">(1896)</div> + +<p>First impressions of faces are very much to us; +vivid and persistent, even long after they have been +judged false they will from time to time return to +console or mock us. It is much the same with +places, for these, too, an ineradicable instinct will +have it, are persons. Few in number are the towns +and villages which are dear to us, whose memory +is always sweet, like that of one we love. Those +that wake no emotion, that are remembered much +as we remember the faces of a crowd of shop assistants +in some emporium we are accustomed to +visit, are many. Still more numerous, perhaps, +are the places that actually leave a disagreeable +impression on the mind. Probably the reason +of this is because most places are approached by +railroad. The station, which is seen first, and cannot +thereafter be dissociated from the town, is invariably +the centre of a chaotic collection of ugly objects and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg_284]</a></span> +discordant noises, all the more hateful because so +familiar. For in coming to a new place we look +instinctively for that which is new, and the old, and +in themselves unpleasant sights and sounds, at such a +moment produce a disheartening, deadening effect on +the stranger:—the same clanging, puffing, grinding, +gravel-crushing, banging, shrieking noises; the same +big unlovely brick and metal structure, the long platform, +the confusion of objects and people, the waiting +vehicles, and the glittering steel rails stretching away +into infinitude, like unburied petrified webs of some +gigantic spider of a remote past—webs in which +mastodons were caught like flies. Approaching a +town from some other direction—riding, driving, or +walking—we see it with a clearer truer vision, and +take away a better and more lasting image.</p> + +<p>Selborne is one of the noted places where pilgrims +go that is happily without a station. From whichever +side you approach it the place itself, features +and expression, is clearly discerned: in other words +you see Selborne, and not a brick and metal outwork +or mask; not an excrescence, a goitre, which +can make even a beautiful countenance appear +repulsive. There is a station within a few miles of +the village. I approached by a different route, and +saw it at the end of a fifteen miles' walk. Rain had +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg_285]</a></span> +begun to fall on the previous evening; and when in +the morning I looked from my bedroom window in +the wayside inn, where I had passed the night, it +was raining still, and everywhere, as far as I could +see, broad pools of water were gleaming on the level +earth. All day the rain fell steadily from a leaden +sky, so low that where there were trees it seemed +almost to touch their tops, while the hills, away on +my left, appeared like vague masses of cloud that rest +on the earth. The road stretched across a level moorland +country; it was straight and narrow, but I was +compelled to keep to it, since to step aside was to +put my feet into water. Mile after mile I trudged +on without meeting a soul, where not a house was +visible—a still, wet, desolate country with trees and +bushes standing in water, unstirred by a breath of +wind. Only at long intervals a yellow hammer was +heard uttering his thin note; for just as this bird +sings in the sultriest weather which silences other +voices, so he will utter his monotonous chant on the +gloomiest day.</p> + +<p>It may be because he sung</p> + +<div class="poem"> +The yellow hammer in the rain<br /> +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">that I have long placed Faber among my best-loved +minor poets of the past century. He alone among +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg_286]</a></span> +our poets has properly appreciated that the singer +who never stops, but, "pleased with his own +monotony," shakes off the rain and sings on in a mood +of cheerfulness dashed with melancholy:</div><br /> + +<div class="poem"> +And there he is within the rain,<br /> +And beats and beats his tune again,<br /> +Quite happy in himself.<br /> +<br /> +Within the heart of this great shower<br /> +He sits, as in a secret bower,<br /> +With curtains drawn about him:<br /> +And, part in duty, part in mirth,<br /> +He beats, as if upon the earth<br /> +Rain could not fall without him.<br /> +</div> + +<p>I remember that W. E. Henley once took me +severely to task on account of some jeering remarks +made about our poet's way of treating the birds and +their neglect of so many of our charming singers. +In the course of our correspondence he questioned me +about the cirl bunting, that lively singer and pretty +first cousin of the yellow hammer; and after I had +supplied him with full information, he informed me +that it was his intention to write a poem on that +bird, and that he would be the first English poet to +sing the cirl bunting.</p> + +<p>He never wrote that lyric, "part in duty, part in +mirth"; he was then near his end.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg_287]</a></span> +To return to my walk. At last the aspect of the +country changed: in place of brown heath, with +gloomy fir and furze, there was cheerful verdure of +grass and deciduous trees, and the straight road +grew deep and winding, running now between hills, +now beside woods, and hop-fields, and pasture lands. +And at length, wet and tired, I reached Selborne—the +remote Hampshire village that has so great a +fame.</p> + +<p>To very many readers a description of the place +would seem superfluous. They know it so well, +even without having seen it; the little, old-world +village at the foot of the long, steep, bank-like hill, +or Hanger, clothed to its summit with beech-wood as +with a green cloud; the straggling street, the Plestor, +or village green, an old tree in the centre, with a +bench surrounding its trunk for the elders to rest on +of a summer evening. And, close by, the grey +immemorial church, with its churchyard, its grand +old yew-tree, and, overhead, the bunch of swifts, +rushing with jubilant screams round the square tower.</p> + +<p>I had not got the book in my knapsack, nor did I +need it. Seeing the Selborne swifts, I thought how a +century and a quarter ago Gilbert White wrote that +the number of birds inhabiting and nesting in the +village, summer after summer, was nearly always +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg_288]</a></span> +the same, consisting of about eight pairs. The +birds now rushing about over the church were +twelve, and I saw no others.</p> + +<p>If Gilbert White had never lived, or had never +corresponded with Pennant and Daines Barrington, +Selborne would have impressed me as a very pleasant +village set amidst diversified and beautiful scenery, +and I should have long remembered it as one of the +most charming spots which I had found in my rambles +in southern England. But I thought of White continually. +The village itself, every feature in the +surrounding landscape, and every object, living or +inanimate, and every sound, became associated in +my mind with the thought of the obscure country +curate, who was without ambition, and was "a still, +quiet man, with no harm in him—no, not a bit," +as was once said by one of his parishioners. There, +at Selborne—to give an altered meaning to a verse +of quaint old Nicholas Culpepper—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +His image stampéd is on every grass.<br /> +</div><br /> + +<div class="justify">With a new intense interest I watched the swifts +careering through the air, and listened to their shrill +screams. It was the same with all the birds, even +the commonest—the robin, blue tit, martin, and +sparrow. In the evening I stood motionless a long +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg_289]</a></span> +time intently watching a small flock of greenfinches +settling to roost in a hazel-hedge. From time to +time they became disturbed at my presence, and +fluttering up to the topmost twigs, where their +forms looked almost black against the pale amber +sky, they uttered their long-drawn canary-like +note of alarm. At all times a delicate, tender +note, now it had something more in it—something +from the far past—the thought of one whose +memory was interwoven with living forms and +sounds.</div> + +<p>The strength and persistence of this feeling had +a curious effect. It began to seem to me that he +who had ceased to five over a century ago, whose +<i>Letters</i> had been the favourite book of several +generations of naturalists, was, albeit dead and gone, +in some mysterious way still living. I spent a long +time groping about in the long rank grass of the +churchyard in search of a memorial; and this, +when found, turned out to be a modest-sized headstone, +and I had to go down on my knees, and put +aside the rank grass that half covered it, just as +when we look into a child's face we push back the +unkempt hair from its forehead; and on the stone +were graved the name, and beneath, "1793," the +year of his death.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg_290]</a></span> +Happy the nature-lover who, in spite of fame, is +allowed to rest, as White rests, pressed upon by no +ponderous stone; the sweet influences of sun and +rain are not kept from him; even the sound of the +wild bird's cry may penetrate to his narrow apartment +to gladden his dust!</p> + +<p>Perhaps there is some truth in the notion that +when a man dies he does not wholly die; that is to +say, the earthly yet intelligent part of him, which, +being of the earth, cannot ascend; that a residuum +of life remains, like a perfume left by some long-vanished, +fragrant object; or it may be an emanation +from the body at death, which exists thereafter +diffused and mixed with the elements, perhaps unconscious +and yet responsive, or capable of being +vivified into consciousness and emotions of pleasure +by a keenly sympathetic presence. At Selborne +this did not seem mere fantasy. Strolling about the +village, loitering in the park-like garden of the +Wakes, or exploring the Hanger; or when I sat on +the bench under the churchyard yew, or went softly +through the grass to look again at those two letters +graved on the headstone, there was a continual +sense of an unseen presence near me. It was like +the sensation a man sometimes has when lying still +with closed eyes of some one moving softly to his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg_291]</a></span> +side. I began to think that if that feeling and sensation +lasted long enough without diminishing its +strength, it would in the end produce something +like conviction. And the conviction would imply +communion. Furthermore, between the thought +that we may come to believe in a thing and belief +itself there is practically no difference. I began to +speculate as to the subjects about to be discussed +by us. The chief one would doubtless relate to the +bird life of the district. There are fresh things to be +related of the cuckoo; how "wonder has been +added to wonder" by observers of that bird since +the end of the eighteenth century. And here is a +delicate subject to follow—to wit, the hibernation +of swallows—yet one by no possibility to be avoided. +It would be something of a disappointment to him +to hear it stated, as an established fact, that none of +our <i>hirundines</i> do winter, fast asleep like dormice, +in these islands. But there would be comfort in the +succeeding declaration that the old controversy +is not quite dead yet—that at least two popular +writers on British birds have boldly expressed the +belief that some of our supposed migrants do actually +"lay up" in the dead season. The deep interest +manifested in the subject would be a temptation +to dwell on it. I should touch on the discovery +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg_292]</a></span> +made recently by a young English naturalist abroad, +that a small species of swallow in a temperate country +in the Southern Hemisphere shelters itself under the +thick matted grass, and remains torpid during spells +of cold weather. We have now a magnificent monograph +of the swallows, and it is there stated of the +purple martin, an American species, that in some +years bitter cold weather succeeds its arrival in early +spring in Canada; that at such times the birds +take refuge in their nesting holes and lie huddled +together in a semi-torpid state, sometimes for a +week or ten days, until the return of genial weather, +when they revive and appear as full of life and vigour +as before. It is said that these and other swallows +are possessed of habits and powers of which we have +as yet but slight knowledge. Candour would compel +me to add that the author of the monograph in +question, who is one of the first living ornithologists, +is inclined to believe that some swallows in some +circumstances do hibernate.</p> + +<p>At this I should experience a curious and almost +startling sensation, as if the airy hands of my invisible +companion had been clapped together, and +the clap had been followed by an exclamation—a +triumphant "Ah!"</p> + +<p>Then there would be much to say concerning the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg_293]</a></span> +changes in the bird population of Selborne parish, +and of the southern counties generally. A few +small species—hawfinch, pretty chaps, and gold-crest—were +much more common now than in his +day; but a very different and sadder story had to +be told of most large birds. Not only had the +honey buzzard never returned to nest on the beeches +of the Hanger since 1780, but it had continued to +decrease everywhere in England and was now +extinct. The raven, too, was lost to England as an +inland breeder. It could not now be said that +"there are bustards on the wide downs near Brighthelmstone," +nor indeed anywhere in the kingdom. +The South Downs were unchanged, and there were +still pretty rides and prospects round Lewes; but +he might now make his autumn journey to Ringmer +without seeing kites and buzzards, since these had +both vanished; nor would he find the chough +breeding at Beachy Head, and all along the Sussex +coast. It would also be necessary to mention the +disappearance of the quail, and the growing scarcity +of other once abundant species, such as the stone +plover and curlew, and even of the white owl, which +no longer inhabited its ancient breeding-place beneath +the caves of Selborne Church.</p> + +<p>Finally, after discussing these and various other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg_294]</a></span> +matters which once engaged his attention, also the +little book he gave to the world so long ago, there +would still remain another subject to be mentioned +about which I should feel somewhat shy—namely, +the marked difference in manner, perhaps in feeling, +between the old and new writers on animal life and +nature. The subject would be strange to him. On +going into particulars, he would be surprised at the +disposition, almost amounting to a passion, of the +modern mind to view life and nature in their ćsthetic +aspects. This new spirit would strike him as something +odd and exotic, as if the writers had been +first artists or landscape-gardeners, who had, as +naturalists, retained the habit of looking for the +picturesque. He would further note that we moderns +are more emotional than the writers of the past, or, +at all events, less reticent. There is no doubt, he +would say, that our researches into the kingdom of +nature produce in us a wonderful pleasure, unlike in +character and perhaps superior to most others; but +this feeling, which was indefinable and not to be +traced to its source, was probably given to us for a +secret gratification. If we are curious to know its +significance, might we not regard it as something +ancillary to our spiritual natures, as a kind of subsidiary +conscience, a private assurance that in all +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg_295]</a></span> +our researches into the wonderful works of creation +we are acting in obedience to a tacit command, or, +at all events in harmony with the Divine Will?</p> + +<p>Ingenious! would be my comment, and possibly +to the eighteenth century mind it would have proved +satisfactory. There was something to be said in +defence of what appeared to him as new and strange +in our books and methods. Not easily said, unfortunately; +since it was not only the expression that +was new, but the outlook, and something in the heart. +We are bound as much as ever to facts; we seek for +them more and more diligently, knowing that to +break from them is to be carried away by vain +imaginations. All the same, facts in themselves +are nothing to us: they are important only in their +relations to other facts and things—to all things, +and the essence of things, material and spiritual. +We are not like children gathering painted shells +and pebbles on a beach; but, whether we know it +or not, are seeking after something beyond and +above knowledge. The wilderness in which we are +sojourners is not our home; it is enough that its +herbs and roots and wild fruits nourish and give us +strength to go onward. Intellectual curiosity, with +the gratification of the individual for only purpose, +has no place in this scheme of things as we conceive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg_296]</a></span> +it. Heart and soul are with the brain in all investigation—a +truth which some know in rare, beautiful +intervals, and others never; but we are all meanwhile +busy with our work, like myriads of social +insects engaged in raising a structure that was never +planned. Perhaps we are not so wholly unconscious +of our destinies as were the patient gatherers of facts of +a hundred years ago. Even in one brief century the +dawn has come nearer—perhaps a faint whiteness in +the east has exhilarated us like wine. Undoubtedly +we are more conscious of many things, both within +and without—of the length and breadth and depth +of nature; of a unity which was hardly dreamed +of by the naturalists of past ages, a commensalism +on earth from which the meanest organism is not +excluded. For we are no longer isolated, standing +like starry visitors on a mountain-top, surveying +life from the outside; but are on a level with and +part and parcel of it; and if the mystery of life daily +deepens, it is because we view it more closely and with +clearer vision. A poet of our age has said that in +the meanest floweret we may find "thoughts that +do often lie too deep for tears." The poet and +prophet is not alone in this; he expresses a feeling +common to all of those who, with our wider knowledge, +have the passion for nature in their hearts, who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg_297]</a></span> +go to nature, whether for knowledge or inspiration. +That there should appear in recent literature something +of a new spirit, a sympathetic feeling which +could not possibly have flourished in a former age, +is not to be wondered at, considering all that has +happened in the present century to change the +current of men's thoughts. For not only has the new +knowledge wrought in our minds, but has entered, +or is at last entering, into our souls.</p> + +<p>Having got so far in my apology, a feeling of +despair would all at once overcome me at the thought +of the vastness of the subject I had entered upon. +Looking back it seems but a little while since the +introduction of that new element into thought, +that "fiery leaven" which in the end would "leaven +all the hearts of men for ever." But the time was +not really so short; the gift had been rejected with +scorn and bitterness by the mass of mankind at +first; it had taken them years—the years of a generation—to +overcome repugnance and resentment, and +to accept it. Even so it had wrought a mighty +change, only this had been in the mind; the change +in the heart would follow, and it was perhaps early +to boast of it. How was I to disclose all this to him? +All that I had spoken was but a brief exordium—a +prelude and note of preparation for what should +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg_298]</a></span> +follow—a story immeasurably longer and infinitely +more wonderful than that which the Ancient Mariner +told to the Wedding Guest. It was an impossible +task.</p> + +<p>At length, after an interval of silence, to me +full of trouble, the expected note of dissent would +come.</p> + +<p>I had told him, he would say, either too much +or not enough. No doubt there had been a very +considerable increase of knowledge since his day; +nevertheless, judging from something I had said +on the hibernation, or torpid condition, of swallows, +there was still something to learn with regard to the +life and conversation of animals. The change in +the character of modern books about nature, of +which I had told him, quoting passages—a change +in the direction of a more poetic and emotional treatment +of the subject—he, looking from a distance, +was inclined to regard as merely a literary fashion of +the time. That anything so unforeseen had come +to pass,—so important as to change the current of +thought, to give to men new ideas about the unity +of nature and the relation in which we stood towards +the inferior creatures,—he could not understand. It +should be remembered that the human race had +existed some fifty or sixty centuries on the earth, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg_299]</a></span> +and that since the invention of letters men had +recorded their observations. The increase in the +body of facts had thus been, on the whole, gradual +and continuous. Take the case of the cuckoo. +Aristotle, some two thousand years ago, had given +a fairly accurate account of its habits; and yet in +very recent years, as I had informed him, new facts +relating to the procreant instincts of that singular +fowl had come to light.</p> + +<p>After a short interval of silence I would become +conscious of a change in him, as if a cloud had lifted—of +a quiet smile on his, to my earthly eyes, invisible +countenance, and he would add: "No, no; you have +yourself supplied me with a reason for questioning +your views; your statement of them—pardon me +for saying it—struck me as somewhat rhapsodical. +I refer to your commendations of my humble history +of the Parish of Selborne. It is gratifying to me +to hear that this poor little book is still in such good +repute, and I have been even more pleased at that +idea of modern naturalists, so flattering to my +memory, of a pilgrimage to Selborne; but, if so +great a change has come over men's minds as you +appear to believe, and if they have put some new +interpretation on nature, it is certainly curious that +I should still have readers."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg_300]</a></span> +It would be my turn to smile now—a smile for +a smile—and silence would follow. And so, with +the dispersal of this little cloud, there would be an +end of the colloquy, and each would go his way: +one to be re-absorbed into the grey stones and long +grass, the ancient yew-tree, the wooded Hanger; +the other to pursue his walk to the neighbouring +parish of Liss, almost ready to believe as he went +that the interview had actually taken place.</p> + +<p>It only remains to say that the smile (my smile) +would have been at the expense of some modern +editors of the famous <i>Letters</i>, rather than at that +of my interlocutor. They are astonished at Gilbert +White's vitality, and cannot find a reason for it. +Why does this "little cockle-shell of a book," as +one of them has lately called it, come gaily down to +us over a sea full of waves, where so many brave +barks have foundered? The style is sweet and +clear, but a book cannot live merely because it is +well written. It is chock-full of facts; but the facts +have been tested and sifted, and all that were worth +keeping are to be found incorporated in scores of +standard works on natural history. I would humbly +suggest that there is no mystery at all about it; +that the personality of the author is the principal +charm of the <i>Letters</i>, for in spite of his modesty +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg_301]</a></span> +and extreme reticence his spirit shines in every +page; that the world will not willingly let this +small book die, not only because it is small, and well +written, and full of interesting matter, but chiefly +because it is a very delightful human document.</p> +<br /> +<br /> + +<a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg_303]</a></span></p> + +<div class="caption2">INDEX</div> + +<div class="caption2nc">A</div> +<br /> +<i>Adventures among Birds</i>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +"Age of Fools," story of the, <a href="#Page_8">8</a><br /> +Agriculture, decay of, in Gloucestershire, <a href="#Page_174">174</a><br /> +Amazon, double-fronted, <a href="#Page_256">256</a><br /> +Arnold, Matthew, on birds, <a href="#Page_161">161</a><br /> +Arthur, King, legend of, <a href="#Page_165">165</a><br /> +Asses, wild, their braying, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +Axe, daws in the valley of Somerset, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">B</div> +<br /> +Baring-Gould's <i>Broom Squire</i>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +Bath, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>;<br /> + bird life in, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +Bee, stingless, in La Plata, its mode of attack, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br /> +Beech leaves, <a href="#Page_84">84</a><br /> +Birds, stuffed, effect of, <a href="#Page_1">1-7</a>;<br /> + at their best, <a href="#Page_13">13-18</a>;<br /> + mental reproduction of voices of, <a href="#Page_18">18-26</a>;<br /> + durability of images of, <a href="#Page_28">28-32</a>;<br /> + their relations with man, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48-50</a>;<br /> + human suggestions in voices of, <a href="#Page_121">121-132</a>;<br /> + rare, their gradual extirpation, <a href="#Page_236">236-248</a><br /> +<i>Birds of Berkshire</i>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +<i>Birds of Wiltshire</i>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +"Bishops Jacks," at Wells, <a href="#Page_61">61</a><br /> +Blackbird, <a href="#Page_124">124</a><br /> +Blackcap, its song, <a href="#Page_112">112-114</a><br /> +Blue, in flowers, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a><br /> +Booth collection, the, at Brighton, <a href="#Page_3">3</a><br /> +Brean Down, singular appearance of, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>;<br /> + shildrakes binding at, <a href="#Page_194">194</a><br /> +Brissot and the Merrimac River, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br /> +"British Bird of Paradise," <a href="#Page_100">100</a><br /> +British Ornithologists's Union, <a href="#Page_24">24</a><br /> +Broadway, raven superstitions at, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> +Burns, "Address to a Wood-lark," <a href="#Page_127">127</a><br /> +Burroughs, John, on the willow wren, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;<br /> + search for the nightingale, <a href="#Page_222">222</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">C</div> +<br /> +Carew, Thomas, lines quoted, <a href="#Page_144">144</a><br /> +Cathedral Daws at Wells, <a href="#Page_61">61</a><br /> +Cattle, tended by birds, <a href="#Page_39">39</a><br /> +Chaffinch, song of, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> +Children, imitative calls of, <a href="#Page_177">177</a><br /> +<i>Chrysotis guildingi</i>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a><br /> +<i><span style="color: #fff;">Chrysotis</span> lavalaniti</i>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a><br /> +Collections of birds, small educational value of, <a href="#Page_6">6</a><br /> +Collectors, destruction of Dartford warblers by, <a href="#Page_224">224-231</a>;<br /> + as law-breakers, <a href="#Page_234">234-237</a><br /> +Cowper, the poet, on the daw's voice, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>;<br /> + as naturalist, <a href="#Page_76">76</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">D</div> +<br /> +Dartford warbler, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;<br /> + dead and alive, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>;<br /> + search for the, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>;<br /> + cause of decrease of, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>;<br /> + gradual extirpation by collectors, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>;<br /> + at its best, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231-234</a><br /> +<a name="DAWS" id="DAWS"></a>Daws, cows and, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>;<br /> + at Savernake, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90-93</a>;<br /> + choice of a breeding site, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>;<br /> + stick-carrying and dropping by, <a href="#Page_62">62-64</a>;<br /> + originally builders in trees, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>;<br /> + at Bath, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71-78</a>;<br /> + their voices, <a href="#Page_72">72-75</a>;<br /> + alarm cry, <a href="#Page_92">92</a><br /> +Deer and jackdaw, <a href="#Page_41">41</a><br /> +Destruction of British birds and pressing need for remedy, <a href="#Page_224">224-248</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">E</div> +<br /> +"Ebor Jacks," <a href="#Page_61">61</a><br /> +Ebor rocks, former presence of ravens at the, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> +Exmoor, extirpation of birds by keepers in the Forest of, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +Expression in natural objects due to human <ins title='Correction: was "ascociations"'>associations</ins>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>;<br /> + in flowers, <a href="#Page_135">135-137</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">F</div> +<br /> +Faber, Father, lines on the yellow hammer, <a href="#Page_285">285</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg_304]</a></span><br /> +Feathers, falling, birds' fear of, <a href="#Page_252">252</a><br /> +Ferne, Sir John, on azure in blazoning, <a href="#Page_157">157</a><br /> +Flowers, expression in, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;<br /> + human colours in, <a href="#Page_135">135-137</a>;<br /> + vernacular names of, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>-140, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>;<br /> + yellow and white, lack of human associations in, <a href="#Page_146">146-149</a>;<br /> + personal preferences, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;<br /> + charm due to human associations, <a href="#Page_154">154</a><br /> +Fowler, Mr Warde, on wagtails, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>;<br /> + on the willow wren's song, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +Frensham Pond, swallows and swifts at, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> + gold-crests at, <a href="#Page_53">53</a><br /> +Furze wren, <i>see</i> <a href="#Page_3">Dartford Warbler</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">G</div> +<br /> +Gardens, <a href="#Page_151">151</a><br /> +<a name="GEESE" id="GEESE"></a>Geese, on a common, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;<br /> + at Lyndhurst, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;<br /> + their lofty demeanour, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216-221</a>;<br /> + degraded by culinary associations, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;<br /> + as watch-dogs, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;<br /> + Egyptian representations of, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;<br /> + voice of, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>;<br /> + migratory instinct in domestic, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> +Geese, Magellanic, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;<br /> + voices of, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>;<br /> + courtly demeanour of, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;<br /> + a migrating pair of, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br /> +Gerarde, <a href="#Page_150">150</a><br /> +Gold-crests alarmed, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a><br /> +Gould, on abundance of the Dartford warbler, <a href="#Page_224">224</a><br /> +Gray, Robert, on the gray-lag goose, <a href="#Page_210">210</a><br /> +Gresset, the story of <i>Vert Vert</i> by, <a href="#Page_264">264</a><br /> +Grey, Sir Edward, on the study of birds, <a href="#Page_33">33</a><br /> +Grove, Sir George, blackbird's singing described by, <a href="#Page_124">124</a><br /> +Guarani, legend of a parrot, <a href="#Page_264">264</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">H</div> +<br /> +Hastings, daws at, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> +Henley, W. E. on bird poems, <a href="#Page_286">286</a><br /> +Herodotus, on flying feathers and snow, <a href="#Page_254">254</a><br /> +Honey buzzard, destruction of the, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a><br /> +Humming-bird, defending its nest, <a href="#Page_42">42</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">I</div> +<br /> +Impressions, emotion a condition of their permanence, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>;<br /> + sound, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;<br /> + durability of, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">J</div> +<br /> +Jackdaws, <i>see</i> <a href="#DAWS">Daws</a><br /> +Jays, spring assemblies, <a href="#Page_94">94-100</a>;<br /> + mimicry, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;<br /> + variability of song, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>;<br /> + their call, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>;<br /> + mode of flight, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>;<br /> + British bird of Paradise, <a href="#Page_100">100</a><br /> +Jefferies, Richard, on yellow flowers, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">K</div> +<br /> +Kearton, Mr Richard, suggestion for the protection of rare birds by, <a href="#Page_240">240</a><br /> +Kennedy, Clark, on the furze wren in Berkshire, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +King Arthur, legend of, <a href="#Page_165">165</a><br /> +Kingfishers, alive and dead, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">L</div> +<br /> +<i>Land's End, the</i>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a><br /> +La Plata and Patagonia, images of birds of, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br /> +Lapwing, the spur-winged, and sheep, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> +Leslie's <i>Riverside Letters</i>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a><br /> +<i>Letters of Rusticus</i>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +Linnets, a concert of, <a href="#Page_188">188</a><br /> +Livett, Dr, a raven story told by, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> +Long-tailed tit at its best, <a href="#Page_16">16</a><br /> +Lynton, wood wren at, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">M</div> +<br /> +Macgillivray, on the redbreast, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +Magellanic geese. <i>See</i> <a href="#GEESE">Geese</a><br /> +Magpie, manner of flight of, <a href="#Page_284">284</a><br /> +Mammals, relations of birds with, <a href="#Page_38">38</a><br /> +Man, from the birds' point of view, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg_305]</a></span><br /> + the robin's pleasure in his company, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +Maxwell, Sir Herbert, on the "cursed collector," <a href="#Page_161">161</a><br /> +Medum, representation of geese at, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +Memory of things seen, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;<br /> + of things heard, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> +Montagu's <i>Dictionary of Birds</i>, account of the jay in, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +Mivart, St George, on dead birds, <a href="#Page_270">270</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">N</div> +<br /> +Naturalist, the old and new, <a href="#Page_294">294</a><br /> +Nature, modern sense of the unity of, <a href="#Page_294">294</a><br /> +Newman on the Dartford warbler, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +Nightingale, quality of its voice, <a href="#Page_128">128</a><br /> +<i>Nothura maculosa</i>, the "partridge" of Argentina, <a href="#Page_252">252</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">O</div> +<br /> +Ossian's address to the sun, <a href="#Page_148">148</a><br /> +<a name="OWLS" id="OWLS"></a>Owl, wood, hooting of the, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>;<br /> + superstitions regarding the, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>;<br /> + a pet, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +Owls, in a village, <a href="#Page_173">173</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">P</div> +<br /> +Parrot, caged and free, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> + the St Vincent, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>;<br /> + history of a double-fronted amazon, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>;<br /> + a lost language talked by a, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>;<br /> + longevity of the, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>;<br /> + tales and legends of the, <a href="#Page_264">264-268</a><br /> +Partridges and rabbits, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br /> +Patti, Carlota, bird-like voice of, <a href="#Page_128">128</a><br /> +Peregrine falcon, fight with raven, <a href="#Page_167">167</a><br /> +Peterborough, the great Lord, and a canary, <a href="#Page_263">263</a><br /> +Pheasant and chicks, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> +Pigeon family, the, original notes of, <a href="#Page_88">88</a><br /> +Pigs in the New Forest, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">Q</div> +<br /> +Quixote, Don, as to tradition of King Arthur, <a href="#Page_165">165</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">R</div> +<br /> +Rabbits, how regarded by partridges, <a href="#Page_45">45</a><br /> +Ravens, in Somerset, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>;<br /> + aëreal feat of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>;<br /> + decrease and disappearance of, <a href="#Page_169">169-170</a>;<br /> + superstitious fear of killing, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;<br /> + last, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>;<br /> + tapping at lighted windows, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +Raven tree, a, <a href="#Page_169">169</a><br /> +Red, in flowers, human associations of, <a href="#Page_141">141-145</a><br /> +Redbreast, tameness of the, <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +Reed warbler, the, in Somerset, <a href="#Page_190">190-191</a><br /> +Ruskin, "word painting," <a href="#Page_72">72</a>;<br /> + on cathedral daws, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>;<br /> + on the distinction of beauty, <a href="#Page_238">238</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">S</div> +<br /> +Saintbury, village of, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>;<br /> + owl superstitions at, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br /> +St Vincent parrot, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>;<br /> + anecdote of, <a href="#Page_254">254</a><br /> +Savernake Forest, early spring in, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>;<br /> + daws in, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>;<br /> + jays in, <a href="#Page_94">94</a><br /> +Sea-birds, protection of, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a><br /> +Seebohm, on the wood wren, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>;<br /> + on the willow wren, <a href="#Page_117">117</a>;<br /> + on jay assemblies, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +Selborne, a first sight of, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>;<br /> + changes in its bird population, <a href="#Page_293">293</a><br /> +Sheep, tended by birds, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>;<br /> + quarrel of a spur-winged lapwing with, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> +Sheldrake in Somerset, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;<br /> + tame and wild, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;<br /> + appearance when flying, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;<br /> + singular breeding habits, <a href="#Page_194">194-195</a><br /> +Sigerson, Miss Dora (Mrs Shorter) in "Flight of the Wild Geese," <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> +Skylark, song, <a href="#Page_116">116</a><br /> +Somerset, daws in, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;<br /> + ravens in, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>;<br /> + red warbler in, <a href="#Page_190">190</a><br /> +Sound-images, their durability, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a><br /> +Spencer, Herbert, on social animals, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg_306]</a></span><br /> + on the origin of music, <a href="#Page_131">131</a><br /> +Starlings, their services to cattle, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>;<br /> + abundance at Bath of, <a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<i>Summer Studies of Birds and Books</i>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a><br /> +Sunlight, effects on plumage of birds, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_12">12</a><br /> +Swallows, how man is regarded by, <a href="#Page_49">49-53</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>;<br /> + alarmed by a grey hat, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>;<br /> + quality of the voice of, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;<br /> + Gilbert White on hybernation of, <a href="#Page_291">291</a><br /> +Swifts, unconcern of in man's presence, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>;<br /> + at Selborne, <a href="#Page_287">287</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">T</div> +<br /> +Tennyson, on the speedwell, <a href="#Page_149">149</a><br /> +Throstle, loudness of its song, <a href="#Page_118">118</a><br /> +Tits, blue, at Bath, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>;<br /> + long-tailed, seen at their best, <a href="#Page_16">16</a><br /> +Tree-pipit, quality of voice of, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">U</div> +<br /> +Upland geese. <i>See</i> <a href="#GEESE">Geese</a>.<br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">V</div> +<br /> +Visitants, rare annual slaughter of, <a href="#Page_237">237</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">W</div> +<br /> +Wagtail, pied, attending cows in the pasture ... quality of voice of, <a href="#Page_125">125</a><br /> +Wallace, Alfred Russel, Bird of Paradise assemblies described by, <a href="#Page_100">100</a><br /> +Wells, daws at the cathedral, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>;<br /> + a wood wren at, <a href="#Page_102">102</a><br /> +White, Gilbert, wood wren's song, described by, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;<br /> + willow wren's song described by, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;<br /> + associations with, at Selborne, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>;<br /> + an imaginary conversation with, <a href="#Page_291">291</a><br /> +Whiteness, in flowers, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;<br /> + magnifying effect of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +Willersey, owls at, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>;<br /> + a pet wood owl at, <a href="#Page_184">184</a><br /> +Willow wren, Burroughs on the song of the, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;<br /> + Gilbert White's description of its song, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;<br /> + Warde Fowler's description of its song, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;<br /> + abundance and wide distribution of, <a href="#Page_117">117</a><br /> +Willoughby, Father of British Ornithology, willow wren described by, <a href="#Page_118">118</a><br /> +Wood lark, Burns' address to, <a href="#Page_127">127</a><br /> +Wood owl. <i>See</i> <a href="#OWLS">Owls</a>.<br /> +Wood pigeon, song of, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;<br /> + human quality in voice of, <a href="#Page_87">87-90</a><br /> +Wood wren, at Wells, <a href="#Page_102">102</a>;<br /> + difficulty in seeing, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>;<br /> + inquisitiveness, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>;<br /> + secret of its charm, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> +Wookey Hole, source of the Somerset Axe, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +Wordsworth, bird voices preferred by, <a href="#Page_107">107</a><br /> +<br /> +<div class="caption2nc">Y</div> +<br /> +<i>Year with the Birds, A</i>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +Yellow, in flowers, <a href="#Page_146">146</a><br /> +Yellow-hammer, singing in the rain, <a href="#Page_285">285</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="center"> +PRINTED BY<br /><br /> +TURNBULL AND SPEARS,<br /><br /> +EDINBURGH<br /> +</div> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="trans_notes"> +<div class="caption2">Transcriber's Notes</div> + +<p>Beyond the list of corrections detailed below, a number of minor +corrections may have been applied where indentation, commas, or +periods were either missing or existed where other similar usage (for +example, first paragraph in the Chapter and index listings) does not +have it.</p> + + +<div class="caption2">Typographical Corrections</div> + +<table summary="Corrections"> +<tr> + <td class="bb2">Page</td> + <td class="bb2">Correction</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> + <td>Barragan → Barragán</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> + <td>procesess → processes</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> + <td>has becomes → has become</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td> + <td>scare → score</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td> + <td>een → even</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td> + <td>comany → company</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td> + <td>accompnay → accompany</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td> + <td>shubbery → shrubbery</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td> + <td>beauitful → beautiful</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td> + <td>adnire → admire</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td> + <td>destested → detested</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td> + <td>pasages → passages</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> + <td>intervvals → intervals</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td> + <td>if → of</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td> + <td>yon → you</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td> + <td>vey → very</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td> + <td>torquoise → turquoise</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> + <td>curosity → curiosity</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td> + <td>offender's → offenders</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td> + <td>tinamu → tinamou (twice on this page)</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td> + <td>tinamu → tinamou</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td> + <td>dosing → dozing</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td> + <td>familes → families</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="center"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td> + <td>ascociations → associations</td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /> +</div> + +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Birds and Man, by W. 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