THE ANIMAL KINGDOM. SUB-KINGDOM I—VERTEBRATA. (continued 7)

Swallows in Council. Swallows seem to understand the principle of co-operation and what the family is unable to do for itself the community seems always ready to undertake for it. Captain Brown tells of a pair of swallows who returning to their last year's nest found it occupied by a robust English sparrow. The sparrow declined to give up the nest and the swallows were not strong enough to eject it, whereupon a council was called, as a result of which a large army of swallows proceeded to close up the entrance to the nest with clay, "leaving the sparrow to perish in the garrison it had so gallantly defended." This happened at Strathendry, Bleachfield, in Fifeshire, on the banks of the Leven, and was witnessed by Mr. Gavan Inglis. But not only do the swallows co-operate for the purposes of war; Mr. Inglis was a witness of another effort of combination. It happened that a pair of swallows had built a nest in the corner of one of his windows, in which they had hatched five offspring. The parent birds fell victims to a sportsman's gun and Mr. Inglis contemplated an attempt to rear the family himself. This, however, proved unnecessary. In a very short time a number of swallows came and inspected the bereaved dwelling, apparently noting the condition of the house as well as the brood. A supply of food was immediately brought, and the next morning the kindly offices were renewed and thenceforward continued until the young were able to provide for themselves. Remarkable as these incidents are they are not singular, for both have been known to occur more than once.

The House Martin. The House Martin is characterized by a white spot above his tail which adds to the prettiness of his appearance in flight. The summer residence of this agreeable bird is universally among the habitations of man, who, having no interest in its destruction, and deriving considerable advantage as well as amusement from its company, is generally its friend and protector.

The Martin inhabits America as well as Europe, and is a particular favourite wherever it takes up his abode. "I never knew but one man," says Wilson, "who disliked the Martins, and would not permit them to settle about his house: this was a penurious, close-fisted German, who hated them, because, as he said, 'they eat his peas.' I told him he certainly must be mistaken, as I never knew an instance of Martins eating peas; but he replied with coolness, 'that he had many times seen them himself blaying near the hive, and going schnip schnap,' by which I understood that it was his bees that were the sufferers; and the charge could not be denied."

The Sand Martin. The Sand Martin is the smallest of the British swallows and it is the first to arrive. It bores horizontal holes two or three feet deep into the sides of sand-pits, at the end of which it builds its nest of grass and feathers.

The Chaffinch. The Goldfinch. The Greenfinch. The Finches are beautiful and interesting birds. The Chaffinch is famous for the vivacity of its song and the beauty of its nest. "The forks of a thorn, or wild crab tree," says Mr. Wood, "are favourite places for the nest, which is composed of mosses, hair, wool and feathers, covered on the exterior with lichens and mosses so exactly resembling the bough on which the nest is placed that the eye is often deceived by its appearance." The Goldfinch is a favourite pet, and is capable of being trained to perform tricks. It has been called the Thistlefinch from its use of the down of the thistle in the construction of its nest. It is bright of appearance, cheery of song, and affectionate of disposition. The Greenfinch has a coat of rich olive green, and a waistcoat of greyish-yellow.

The Linnet. The Linnet is a homely looking little brown bird with a sweet melodious voice. It frequents commons and waste lands, where it builds its nest under the cover of friendly furze bushes, or nearer the habitations of man, in thick-set hedges. The Linnet is the natural laureate of the English cottage home.

The Canary. The Canary, as its name implies, comes from the Canary Islands, but it has been so crossed in breeding that it differs very considerably from its original ancestors. Buffon says:—"If the nightingale is the chauntress of the woods, the canary is the musician of the chamber; the first owes all to nature, the second something to art. With less strength of organ, less compass of voice, and less variety of note, the canary has a better ear, greater facility of imitation, and a more retentive memory; and as the difference of genius, especially among the lower animals, depends in a great measure on the perfection of their senses, the canary, whose organ of hearing is more susceptible of receiving foreign impressions, becomes more social, tame, and familiar; is capable of gratitude and even attachment; its caresses are endearing, its little humours innocent, and its anger neither hurts nor offends. Its education is easy; we hear it with pleasure, because we are able to instruct it. It leaves the melody of its own natural note, to listen to the melody of our voices and instruments. It applauds, it accompanies us, and repays the pleasure it receives with interest; while the nightingale, more proud of its talent, seems desirous of preserving it in all its purity, at least it appears to attach very little value to ours and it is with great difficulty it can be taught any of our airs. The canary can speak and whistle; the nightingale despises our words, as well as our airs, and never fails to return to its own wild-wood notes. Its pipe is a masterpiece of nature, which human art can neither alter nor improve; while that of the canary is a model of more pliant materials, which we can mould at pleasure; and therefore it contributes in a much greater degree to the comforts of society. It sings at all seasons, cheers us in the dullest weather, and adds to our happiness, by amusing the young, and delighting the recluse, charming the tediousness of the cloister, and gladdening the soul of the innocent and captive."

The Tame Canary. The canary is easily tamed, and has been taught to perform many little tricks, indeed groups of them have been trained to act little plays, firing cannons and driving coaches. The canary shows a humane disposition, has been known to foster the young of other birds, to make friends with other pets, even cats; to show great affection for its master and to die of grief on the loss of its mate. Dr. Darwin tells of "a canary bird which always fainted away when its cage was cleaned. Having desired to see the experiment," says Dr. Darwin, "the cage was taken from the ceiling, and the bottom drawn out. The bird began to tremble, and turned quite white about the root of the bill; he then opened his mouth as if for breath, and respired quickly; stood up straighter on his perch, hung his wing, spread his tail, closed his eyes, and appeared quite stiff for half an hour, till at length, with trembling and deep respirations, he came gradually to himself."

The Crossbill. The Crossbill must be mentioned for the sake of the peculiarity indicated by its name. The points of the beak instead of being straight and meeting in a common point, "curve to the right and left and always in opposite directions." They therefore cross each other and present a unique appearance. It is found in the North of Europe, and in the great pine forests of Germany.

The Bunting. There are several kinds of Bunting; the English Bunting common to wayside hedges, and familiar from its habit of flitting in front of the traveller, and the Snow Bunting of the northern regions, which turns white on the approach of snow.

The Starlings. We come now to the third division of the Passeres or perching birds, to which Mr. Wallace attaches the name of the starlings. "The starlings or Sturnidæ," says Dr. Percival Wright, "are a well marked old-world group. No species of the family are found in Australia."

The Common Starling. The Common Starling is a bird of passage, arriving in England about the beginning of March and leaving some time in October. Knapp says:—"There is something singularly curious and mysterious in the conduct of these birds previously to their nightly retirement, by the variety and intricacy of the evolutions they execute at that time. They will form themselves, perhaps, into a triangle, then shoot into a long, pear-shaped figure, expand like a sheet, wheel into a ball, as Pliny observes, each individual striving to get into the centre, etc., with a promptitude more like parade movements than the actions of birds. As the breeding season advances, these prodigious flights divide, and finally separate into pairs, and form their summer settlements." The Starling is a handsome bird and usually nests in old buildings, though it has a preference for a dove-cote if it can gain admission. It is a peaceable bird and for all its military evolutions does not seem to war with other species. Its domestic character is also good.

The Weaver Bird. The Weaver birds which are included in this division, are a very interesting species. They belong to Africa, where they hang their nests upon trees, those of the sociable weaver birds giving the trees the appearance of partially thatched wall-less structures. Le Vaillant thus describes his experience of the sociable weaver bird: he says:—"I observed, on the way, a tree with an enormous nest of these birds, to which I have given the appellation of republicans; and as soon as I arrived at my camp, I dispatched a few men with a wagon to bring it to me, that I might open the hive and examine its structure in its minutest parts. When it arrived, I cut it to pieces with a hatchet and saw that the chief portion of the structure consisted of a mass of Buckmans grass, without any mixture, but so compactly and firmly basketed together, as to be impenetrable to the rain. This is the commencement of the structure; and each bird builds its particular nest under this canopy, the upper surface remaining void without, however, being useless; for, as it has a projecting rim and is a little inclined, it serves to let the rain water run off and preserve each little dwelling from the rain. Figure to yourself a huge, irregular, sloping roof, all the eaves of which are completely covered with nests crowded one against another, and you will have a tolerably accurate idea of these singular edifices. Each individual nest is three or four inches in diameter, which is sufficient for the bird. But as they are all in contact with one another around the eaves, they appear to the eye to form one building and are distinguishable from each other only by a little external aperture which serves as an entrance to the nest; and even this is sometimes common to three different nests, one of which is situated at the bottom and the other two at the sides." One of these structures examined by Patterson contained three hundred and twenty inhabited cells.

The Lark. The skylark is common all over Europe and is an especial favourite in the British Isles, It builds its nest on the ground among growing corn or high grass, and shows especial care for its young. Its song is perhaps the most joyous and inspiriting of those of English birds. Captain Brown quotes the following interesting particulars of its song from a communication made by Mr. J. Main to the "Magazine of Natural History:" "His joyous matins and heavenward flight have been aptly compared to hymns and acts of adoration and praise. No bird sings with more method: there is an overture performed vivace crescendo, while the singer ascends; when at the full height, the song becomes moderato, and distinctly divided into short passages, each repeated three or four times over, like a fantasia, in the same key and time. If there be any wind, he rises perpendicularly by bounds, and afterwards poises himself with breast opposed to it. If calm, he ascends in spiral circles; in horizontal circles during the principal part of his song, and zigzagly downwards during the performance of the finale. Sometimes, after descending about half way, he ceases to sing, and drops with the velocity of an arrow to the ground. Those acquainted with the song of the skylark can tell without looking at them whether the birds be ascending or stationary in the air, or on their descent; so different is the style of the song in each case. In the first, there is an expression of ardent impatience; in the second, an andante composure, in which rests of a bar at a time frequently occur; and in the last, a graduated sinking of the strains."

The Maternal Instinct of the Lark. Mrs. Bowdich quoting from "The Naturalist" gives the following pretty story of the maternal instinct of the Lark:—"The other day, some mowers shaved off the upper part of the nest of a skylark, without injuring the female, who was sitting on her young: still she did not fly away; and the mowers levelled the grass all round her, without her taking any notice of their proceedings. The son of the owner of the crop witnessed this, and, about an hour afterwards, went to see if she were safe; when, to his great surprise, he found that she had actually constructed a dome of dry grass over the nest during the interval, leaving an aperture on one side for ingress and egress; thus endeavouring to secure a continuance of the shelter previously supplied by the long grass." Buffon tells a remarkable story of the self-sacrifice of a young lark who took upon itself the duties of a foster mother. He says:—"A young hen bird was brought to me in the month of May, which was not able to feed without assistance. I caused her to be educated, and she was hardly fledged when I received from another place a nest of three or four unfledged skylarks. She took a strong liking to these new-comers, which were scarcely younger than herself; she tended them night and day, cherished them beneath her wings, and fed them with her bill. Nothing could interrupt her tender offices. If the young ones were torn from her, she flew to them as soon as she was liberated, and would not think of effecting her own escape, which she might have done a hundred times. Her affection grew upon her; she neglected food and drink; she now required the same support as her adopted offspring, and expired at last consumed with maternal anxiety. None of the young ones survived her. They died one after another; so essential were her cares, which were equally tender and judicious."

The Lark and the Hawk. The Lark when pursued by the Hawk has been known to seek refuge under the protection of man, as the following quoted by Captain Brown from Bell's "Weekly Messenger" will show. "On Wednesday, the 6th of October, 1805, as a gentleman was sitting on the rocks at the end of Collercot's sands, near Tynemouth, Northumberland, dressing himself after bathing, he perceived a hawk in the air, in close pursuit of, and nearly within reach of a lark. To save the little fugitive, he shouted and clapped his hands, when immediately the lark descended, and alighted on his knee, nor did it offer to leave him, when taken into the hand, but seemed confident of that protection, which it found. The hawk sailed about for some time. The gentleman, after taking the lark nearly to Tynemouth, restored it to its former liberty."

The Wagtails and Pipits. The Wagtails, of which family the Pied Wagtail is the most familiar, derives its name from its habit of wagging its tail. As Mr. Wood says, "it settles on the ground and wags its tail; it runs a few paces and wags its tail again; pecks an insect, and again its tail vibrates." It frequents sandbanks and the margins of rivers where it finds its food. It is found in England throughout the year, migrating to the southern counties in the early winter. The Pipits, of which "The Meadow Pipit" and the Tree Pipit are the best known varieties, are found all over the British Isles as well as in many parts of Europe.

The Ant-Eaters. The fourth division of the perching birds designated by Mr. Wallace, the Ant-Eaters, includes a large number of American varieties, which space forbids us even to enumerate. One or two must suffice.

The King Bird. The King Bird or Tyrant Fly-catcher of North America is small, but of a fearless disposition, attacking hawks, crows, and other larger birds, and generally having the best of the battle. The upper part of its body is black and the lower of a delicate white. Its song is a shrill twittering "resembling the jingling of a bunch of keys." It belongs to the family of the Tyrant Shrikes or Tyrannidæ. It is during the time of incubation that it shows so much ferocity. Wilson says, "I have seen the red-headed woodpecker while clinging on a rail of the fence, amuse himself with the violence of the king bird, and play 'bo-peep' with him round the rail, while the latter, highly irritated, made every attempt, as he swept from side to side, to strike him, but in vain. All his turbulence subsides as soon as his young are able to shift for themselves, and he is then as mild and peaceable as any other bird."

The Chatterers. The Chatterers, or Cotingidæ include among them, the Cock of the Rock, one of the most beautiful of South-American birds. Resembling a pigeon in size, its head is sufficiently like that of the farm-yard cock to account for its name, which is also made to indicate the nature of its haunts. Its coat is a warm saffron yellow and its crest resembles a fan. Sir Robert Schomburgh says: "While traversing the Kikiritze mountains in Guiana, we saw a number of that most beautiful bird, the cock-of-the-rock, or Rock Manakin (rupicola elegans), and I had an opportunity of witnessing an exhibition of some of its very singular antics, of which I had heard stories from the Indians, but had hitherto disbelieved them. Hearing the twittering noise so peculiar to the Rupicola, I cautiously stole near, with two of my guides, towards a spot secluded from the path from four to five feet in diameter, and which appeared to have been cleared of every blade of grass, and smoothed as by human hands. There we saw a cock-of-the-rock, capering to the apparent delight of several others, now spreading its wings, throwing up its head, or opening its tail like a fan; now strutting about, and scratching the ground, all accompanied by a hopping gait, until tired, when it gabbled some kind of note, and another relieved it. Thus three of them successively took the field, and then with self-approbation withdrew to rest on one of the low branches near the scene of action. We had counted ten cocks and two hens of the party, when the crackling of some wood, on which I had unfortunately placed my foot, alarmed and dispersed this dancing party." The Bell Bird of Brazil; the Umbrella Bird of the Amazons, the Broadbills, the Plant cutters, the Oven bird, and the Ant-Thrushes are all included in this group.

The Lyre Bird. The Lyre Bird, which according to the classification we are following, with the scrub bird, forms the fifth group of the perching birds, belongs to Australia. The Lyre Bird has been so often depicted in illustrations that its form is familiar to most people. The tail of the male bird which is composed of three different kinds of feathers so beautifully resembles the Lyre that there could be no hesitation in giving the bird its name. Since its discovery this bird has been so hunted as to considerably reduce its numbers, and the tail feathers which at one time could be purchased at a low price, have become rare and costly.

ORDER II. Climbers and Gapers. This order includes some widely different species and is made up of Scansores, Climbers and Fissirostres, Gapers. A few of the better known species are all that we can mention.

The Woodpecker. The green Woodpecker is the variety best known in England, where it inhabits the woods and feeds upon the insects it finds in the bark of trees. Audubon writing of the "Ivory-billed" variety says:—"The birds pay great regard to the particular situation of the tree, and the inclination of its trunk; first, because they prefer retirement, and again, because they are anxious to secure the aperture against the access of water during beating rains. To prevent such a calamity the hole is generally dug immediately under the junction of a large branch with the trunk. It is first bored horizontally for a few inches, then directly downwards, and not in a spiral manner as some people have imagined. According to circumstances, this cavity is more or less deep, being sometimes more than ten inches, whilst at other times it reaches three feet downwards into the core of the tree. The average diameter of the different nests which I have examined was about seven inches within, although the entrance, which is perfectly round, is only just large enough to admit the bird." Wilson declares that during the excavation of its nest, which occupies several days, the woodpecker will often carry the chips and strew them at a distance to divert suspicion. Audubon describing the Red-headed Woodpecker says:—"With the exception of the mocking bird, I know no species so gay and frolicsome. Their whole life is one of pleasure."

The Wryneck. This bird which was known to the Greeks, and described by Aristotle, forms with its allied species a connecting link between the Woodpecker and the Cuckoo. It feeds on caterpillars and insects which it catches with its long sticky tongue, with such rapidity of movement that the eye cannot follow it.

The Cuckoo. The Cuckoo is always welcomed in England as the harbinger of Spring. Its cry is one of the most easily distinguished of bird songs, and is the nearest approach to a definite musical interval produced by any bird. The habit of the cuckoo of laying its eggs in the nests of other birds, has given rise to much speculation, ancient and modern, and now, though the fact remains, a sufficiently satisfactory reason seems as remote as ever. The nest of the Hedge-sparrow seems to be the one most often selected, though that of the wagtail is sometimes chosen. The consequences to the young of the native bird, are somewhat serious as the following will show.

The Cuckoo and the Hedge-Sparrow. Dr. Jenner, the discoverer of vaccination says:—"On the 18th of June, 1787, I examined the nest of a hedge-sparrow (Accentor modularis), which then contained a cuckoo and three hedge-sparrows' eggs. On inspecting it the day following, the bird had hatched; but the nest then contained only a young cuckoo and one hedge-sparrow. The nest was placed so near the extremity of a hedge, that I could distinctly see what was going forward in it; and, to my great astonishment, I saw the young cuckoo, though so lately hatched, in the act of turning out the young hedge-sparrow. The mode of accomplishing this was very curious; the little animal, with the assistance of its rump and wings, contrived to get the bird upon its back, and making a lodgment for its burthen by elevating its elbows, clambered backwards with it up the side of the nest till it reached the top, where, resting for a moment, it threw off its load with a jerk, and quite disengaged it from the nest. It remained in this situation for a short time, feeling about with the extremities of its wings, as if to be convinced whether the business was properly executed, and then dropped into the nest again. I afterwards put in an egg, and this, by a similar process, was conveyed to the edge of the nest and thrown out. These experiments I have since repeated several times, in different nests, and have always found the young cuckoo disposed to act in the same manner. "It sometimes happens that two cuckoos' eggs are deposited in the same nest, and then the young produced from one of them must inevitably perish. Two cuckoos and one hedge-sparrow were hatched in the same nest, and one hedge-sparrow's egg remained unhatched. In a few hours afterwards a contest began between the cuckoos for the possession of the nest, which continued undetermined till the next afternoon, when one of them, which was somewhat superior in size, turned out the other, together with the young hedge-sparrow and the unhatched egg. The combatants alternately appeared to have the advantage, as each carried the other several times to the top of the nest, and then sunk down again, oppressed by the weight of the burthen; till at length, after various efforts, the strongest prevailed, and was afterwards brought up by the hedge-sparrow." Jenner's experiences have been corroborated by repeated experiments since. Colonel Montague carried a hedge-sparrow's nest, so inhabited, into his house where he could watch it at leisure and where he saw the young cuckoo frequently oust the baby hedge-sparrow in the manner described. The cuckoo feeds on caterpillars, and insects. It may be tamed, but as a rule does not live long in confinement. Its note is heard from April to June.

The Cuckoo and the Thrush. That the cuckoo is scarcely an amiable bird would appear from the following incident recorded by Dr. Stanley: "A young thrush, just able to feed itself, was placed in a cage. A short time after, a young cuckoo, which could not feed itself, was placed in the same cage, and fed by the owner. At length it was observed that the thrush fed it; the cuckoo opening its mouth, and sitting on the upper perch, and making the thrush hop down to fetch its food. One day, while thus expecting its supply, a worm was put into the cage, and the thrush could not resist the temptation of eating it, upon which the cuckoo descended, attacked the thrush with fury, and literally tore out one of its eyes, and then hopped back. Although so lacerated, the poor thrush meekly took up some food, and continued to do so till the cuckoo was full grown."

The Trogons. The Trogons are among the most gorgeous of living birds; the brilliance of their plumage defying verbal description. Their main colour is "a metallic golden green, boldly contrasted with scarlet, black, and brown." "The Resplendent Trogon," says Mr. Wood, "is the most gorgeous of all this gorgeous family. Its long and gracefully curved tail is nearly three feet long, and the whole of the upper surface, and the throat, are a glowing green; the breast and under parts are bright crimson; the middle feathers of the tail black, and the outer feathers white." These birds are natives of Mexico.

The Kingfisher. The Kingfishers are a wide-spread family, being found all over the world. There are numerous varieties, of which the Common Kingfisher and the Laughing Kingfisher are all that we can notice. The Common Kingfisher is indigenous in England where it usually lives on the banks of rivers and streams, feeding upon fish and insects. It makes burrows or holes in the banks, where it lays its eggs and rears its young; fishing from the low branches of trees which overspread the water. When the fish is caught it is beaten to death against some hard substance and then swallowed whole, head foremost. The Common Kingfisher is somewhat larger than the lark, and has a beautiful metallic coat which shimmers with a very pleasing effect as it darts among the greenery of the river bank or flies along the surface of the water. The Laughing Kingfisher belongs to Australia and is so named from its peculiar cry. It is one of the largest species of its kind. Other species belong to the Moluccas and New Guinea, and a few to America.

The Hornbill. The Hornbill is famous for the size and shape of its bill, which is very large. There are several varieties, African and Indian. They live mostly on fruit, though some are said to eat reptiles. They have some very curious habits. Mr. Wallace describes the habit of the male Hornbill of shutting up the female during the period of incubation and feeding her through a small hole left open for the purpose.

The Goat-Suckers. The goat-sucker is so called from the belief long entertained that it was in the habit of sucking the teat of the goat. There are several varieties and they are remarkable for the strangeness of their cries. The Goat-sucker has sometimes been called the Night-jar from its discordant note, it is also known as the Fern Owl. Mr. Wood says:—"It may be seen at the approach of evening silently wheeling round the trees, capturing the nocturnal moths and beetles; then occasionally settling and uttering its jarring cry. When flying the bird sometimes makes its wings meet over its back, and brings them together with a smart snap. It arrives in England in the beginning of May and leaves in December. The Whip-poor-will and the Chuck-will's-widow both belong to this family."

The Whip-poor-Will. The Whip-poor-will, which is peculiar to America, is celebrated for its singular melody, which is heard in spring to issue at night from the woods and glens of all parts of the country. It is a rapid warbling repetition of the name given to the bird, and is so distinctly pronounced, as to seem like the voice of a human being. It is a solitary bird, remaining silent and sequestered during the day, but at night it often approaches a dwelling, and pours forth its song upon the door-step, or a neighbouring tree.

Chuck-Will's-Widow. This bird, also peculiar to America, is about a foot in length, resembling in colour, form, and habits, the whip-poor-will. It is a solitary bird, frequenting glens and hollows, and seldom making its appearance during the day. Its song, which is uttered, like that of the whip-poor-will, at night, is a constant repetition of the sound, chuck-will's-widow, very distinctly articulated. It is common in Georgia, and is regarded by the Creek Indians with superstitious awe. It is very seldom seen in the Middle or Eastern States; "but I recollect once," says an American writer, "to have known a whole village in New England in terror and amazement at hearing one of them singing its strange song on the edge of a swamp. The superstitious part of the inhabitants considered it a prediction of some evil that was to befall a widow of the parish; but there was a diversity of opinion as to who the hapless Chuck-will's-widow might be."

The Swift. The Swift, so called from the remarkable speed of his flight, is also known as "Jack screamer" from the shrillness of his voice. He winters in Africa and arrives in England about May, remaining until about the middle of August. He builds his nest under the eaves of houses and frequents steeples and other lofty edifices, forming his nest of grasses and feathers. The esculent swift, so called from the fact that its nests are edible, builds at the sides of almost inaccessible cliffs, a habit which renders the collection of these singular dainties very dangerous. The nests are formed of mucilaginous sea-weeds and have the appearance of isinglass. They are considered great delicacies in China, where they are found. They abound in Java. The swifts resemble the swallows in several particulars and have often been classed with them, there are, however, important differences which separate them.

The Humming Bird. There are hundreds of kinds of Humming Birds, nearly all of them natives of America, where they frequent the gardens, and sip the honey from the honeysuckle and other plants, like the hive and humble bee. The humming bird is several times larger than the latter, but flies so swiftly as almost to elude the sight. Its wings, when it is balancing over the flower, produce a humming sound, from which it takes its name. It is the smallest of the feathered race, and is one of the most beautiful in the elegance of its form, and the glossy brilliancy of its delicate plumage. Small as it is, however, it is exceedingly courageous, and has violent passions. The length of this bird is three inches; it lives partly on honey obtained from flowers, but devours also great quantities of very small insects. The general colour is a rich golden green on the upper parts; the breast and neck are of a dusky white. Its nest is very small, and is elegantly lined with the down of the mullein. It is covered on the outside with moss, to imitate the colour of the limb on which it is built.

ORDER III. The Parrots. The parrots never fail to interest, on account of their beauty of form and colour, and their aptitude for imitating common sounds. There are some hundreds of species, belonging to different parts of the world, the Cockatoos to Australia, the Macaws to America, and many varieties to Africa. The Macaws and some other kinds are among the most gorgeous of living birds and whether seen in their native wilds or in the aviaries of civilisation never fail to excite admiration. The Cockatoo is distinguished from the true parrot by its crest; other species are differentiated by habit, size, colour, and form. The better known of these are, the Sulphur-crested Cockatoo, the Ground parrot, the Macaw, the Grey parrot, the Green parrot, the Parrakeets and the Love-birds.

The Parrot's Intelligence. Many stories are told of the remarkable powers of individual parrots and the singular appropriateness of their remarks on particular occasions. These are often so startling as to arouse suspicion of their authenticity, and yet a moment's reflection will show that coincidence plays a large part in these demonstrations, and that many of the most astonishing examples of felicitous interjection, or repartee, are due to this, and not to any special gift of intelligence on the part of the bird. An ordinary parrot with half a dozen phrases which it is constantly repeating, will in the nature of things, often use them in singularly felicitous connection with current conversation. No notice is taken of the many instances in which the phrase is inappropriate and yet a few cases of remarkable fitness are held to demonstrate extraordinary intelligence. Teach a parrot such a simple rejoinder as "not I!" and the bird using it in answer to all sorts of questions, will often use it with apparent intelligence, but a doll might be made to show equal wit. That parrots are taught to give certain answers to certain questions is of course true, but in these cases the questions suggest the answers and all the intelligence is shown by the interrogator. Those birds which have lived many years and acquired many phrases, will naturally, from the extent of their repertoire, the more often surprise their hearers; but that they show any greater intelligence may perhaps be doubted. That some of the parrots, and especially the Love-birds, show great feeling for each other and attachment to their owners is well known, but the claim sometimes made that they show greater intelligence than any other birds may be very safely disputed. The term "parrot-like," as applied to the repetition of lessons by rote which are not understood by those repeating them, involves no injustice to the parrot.

Famous Parrots. There have been many famous parrots who have played their part in history if they have not rivalled the geese that saved Rome. The Emperor Basilius Macedo was induced by a Parrot, who cast a gloom over the guests at a banquet by continually calling out, "Alas, alas! poor Prince Leo", to liberate his son whom he had confined on suspicion of treason. The Emperor observed the gloom of his guests and urged them to the pleasures of the table, when one of them is said to have responded, "How should we eat, Sire, when we are thus reproached by this bird of our want of duty to your family? The brute animal is mindful of its Lord; and we that have reason, have neglected to supplicate your Majesty in behalf of the prince, whom we all believe to be innocent, and to suffer under calumny." Whether the bird had been purposely taught this phrase, or had merely acquired it by hearing its frequent repetition does not appear. The following memorial which appeared in the London papers in October 1822 is quoted from the "Percy Anecdotes." "A few days ago, died, in Half Moon Street, Piccadilly, the celebrated parrot of Colonel O'Kelly. This singular bird sang a number of songs in perfect time and tune. She could express her wants articulately, and give her orders in a manner nearly approaching to rationality. Her age was not known; it was, however, more than thirty years, for previous to that period, Colonel O'Kelly bought her at Bristol for one hundred guineas. The Colonel was repeatedly offered five hundred guineas a year for the bird, by persons who wished to make a public exhibition of her; but this, out of tenderness to the favourite, he constantly refused. She could not only repeat a great number of sentences, but answer questions put to her. When singing, she beat time with all the appearance of science; and so accurate was her judgment that if by chance she mistook a note, she would revert to the bar where the mistake was made, correct herself, and still beating regular time, go through the whole with wonderful exactness." A Grey parrot is said to have been sold in 1500, for a hundred guineas, to a Lord High Cardinal at Rome, on account of its ability to repeat, without error, the Apostles' Creed.

The Grey Parrot. The Grey Parrot though less attractive in colour than other species, is perhaps the most popular of the parrot family on account of its superior accomplishments as an imitator of familiar sounds. Mr. Jesse secured from a lady friend a description of the performances of a grey parrot which resided at Hampton Court, from which we quote the following: "Her laugh is quite extraordinary, and it is impossible not to help joining in it, more especially when in the midst of it she cries out, 'Don't make me laugh so; I shall die, I shall die!' and then continues laughing more violently than before. Her crying and sobbing are curious; and if you say, 'Poor Poll, what is the matter?' she says, 'So bad, so bad; got such a cold;' and after crying some time, will gradually cease, and making a noise like drawing a long breath, say, 'Better now,' and begins to laugh." "If any one happens to cough or sneeze, she says, 'what a bad cold.' She calls the cat very plainly, saying, 'puss, puss,' and then answers 'mew'; but the most amusing part is, that whenever I want to make her call it, and to that purpose say, 'puss, puss', myself she always answers, 'mew', till I begin mewing; and then she begins calling 'puss', as quickly as possible. She imitates every kind of noise, and barks so naturally, that I have known her to set all the dogs on the parade of Hampton Court barking, and the consternation I have seen her cause in a party of cocks and hens, by her crowing and chuckling, has been the most ludicrous thing possible. She sings just like a child and I have more than once thought it was a human being; and it is most ludicrous to hear her make what one would call a false note and then say, 'oh la!' and burst out laughing at herself, beginning again in quite another key. She is very fond of singing 'Buy a Broom', which she says quite plainly, but if we say, with a view to make her repeat it, 'Buy a Broom', she always says 'Buy a Brush', and then laughs as a child might do when mischievous. She often performs a kind of exercise which I do not know how to describe, except by saying that it is like the lance exercise. She puts her claw behind her, first on one side and then on the other, then in front, and round over her head; and whilst doing so, keeps saying, 'Come on, come on!' and when finished she says 'Bravo, beautiful,' and draws herself up."

Parrot Talk. To deny the parrot the understanding of what it says, is to relieve it of the responsibility of using bad language, and offering unsound advice, and this it surely needs. A gentleman who was in the habit of kissing his parrot and then kissing his wife, before leaving home in the morning, taught the bird to say, on being kissed, "Now kiss the missus," with the result that most of the gentlemen visitors who took any notice of the parrot were recommended to salute the lady of the house. Another parrot whose cage occupied a window close to a fashionable church continually accosted the passers-by, by calling out "That's right! Go to church, keep up appearances." Such remarks must often be very embarrassing, as must have been the words and actions of a parrot who frequently called out "Who kissed the pretty girl?" and then gave a perfect imitation of the sound of several kisses in succession. Perhaps no more aggravating use was ever made of a parrot's powers than that witnessed by Buffon, who says, "I have seen a parrot very ridiculously employed, belonging to a distiller who had suffered pretty severely in his circumstances from an informer who lived opposite him. This bird was taught to pronounce the ninth commandment,—'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour,' with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The bird was generally placed in a cage over against the informer's house, and delighted the whole neighbourhood with its persevering exhortations."

ORDER IV. Pigeons. There are many varieties of pigeons, some being peculiar to certain districts, and others covering a much more extended geographical area. Mr. Darwin divides the British varieties into four groups: I. The English carrier; the Runt, and the Barb. II. The Fantail; the African owl; the Short-faced Tumbler; the Indian Frill-back; and the Jacobin. III. The English Pouter, and IV. The Dove-cote pigeon; the Swallow; the Spot; the Nun; the English Frill-back; the Laugher, and the Trumpeter. The Passenger pigeon of America, the Nicobar pigeon of the Philippine Islands, the Great-crowned pigeon of New Guinea and the Hook-billed ground pigeon of Samoa are other important species.

Carrier Pigeons. In the "Percy Anecdotes" there is a brief history of the use of carrier pigeons, which we quote as follows:—"The first mention we find made of the employment of pigeons as letter carriers is by Ovid, in his 'Metamorphoses', who tells us that Taurosthenes, by a pigeon stained with purple, gave notice of his having been victor at the Olympic games on the very same day to his father at Ægina. Pliny informs us that during the siege of Modena by Marc Antony, pigeons were employed by Brutus to keep up a correspondence with the besieged. When the city of Ptolemais, in Syria, was invested by the French and Venetians, and it was ready to fall into their hands, they observed a pigeon flying over them, and immediately conjectured that it was charged with letters to the garrison. On this, the whole army raising a loud shout, so confounded the poor aërial post that it fell to the ground, and on being seized, a letter was found under its wings, from the sultan, in which he assured the garrison that 'he would be with them in three days, with an army sufficient to raise the siege.' For this letter the besiegers substituted another to this purpose, 'that the garrison must see to their own safety, for the sultan had such other affairs pressing him that it was impossible for him to come to their succour;' and with this false intelligence they let the pigeon free to pursue his course. The garrison, deprived by this decree of all hope of relief, immediately surrendered. The sultan appeared on the third day, as promised, with a powerful army, and was not a little mortified to find the city already in the hands of the Christians. Carrier pigeons were again employed, but with better success, at the siege of Leyden, in 1675. The garrison were, by means of the information thus conveyed to them, induced to stand out, till the enemy, despairing of reducing the place, withdrew. On the siege being raised, the Prince of Orange ordered that the pigeons who had rendered such essential service should be maintained at the public expense, and that at their death they should be embalmed and preserved in the town house, as a perpetual token of gratitude."

Pigeons on the Wing. Pigeons are said to travel as fast as 2,200 yards per minute and to sustain flight for hundreds of miles at a stretch. The extraordinary manner in which they will find their way almost incredible distances has suggested all kinds of speculation as to the instinct or sense which guides them. A well known pigeon fancier, interviewed by a writer who published the results of the interview in "Chums" (Cassell & Co.) says, "The popular notion that carrier pigeons are guided by some 'direction sense,' or blind instinct, is quite as absurd as the French belief that they follow certain electrical currents. I have had to do with pigeons for over twenty years," he continued, "and I am open to demonstrate to anyone that in flight they are guided by sight alone. Of course, some pigeons are more sagacious, cleverer than others; but the fact remains, and everything tends to prove it. For example, no carrier-pigeon can find its way over a strange country: it often gets lost in a fog; and again, until taught by experience, it is often led astray by colours and objects which appear to be familiar. Quite recently, when I was trying some young birds, I had an instance of how easily they may be led astray. Close to my residence is a large red-brick building, which, to an old bird, would prove a good landmark miles away. In this case, however, the birds had not been tried before, although, of course, they had been let loose and had circled round the loft for several weeks. I took five birds with me some half-mile distant from home; and, letting them loose separately from the box, was rather surprised to see four out of the five, after circling round, fly off in an entirely opposite direction to that in which they should have gone. I soon solved the mystery, however, for, watching the birds, I saw they were making for another red-brick building, which showed up clearly in the sunlight. Arriving there, each one evidently discovered its mistake, and, after flying back to the starting-point, found their whereabouts, and made for home—not in a straight line, however, for young birds invariably take a crooked, tortuous path, as though feeling their way. If pigeons are let loose on water (from a boat in a lake or wide river), they always make for the nearest land first; then, circling round, widening their circle and rising higher at the same time, they keep the starting-point in view until they sight some familiar object, in which direction they travel. If a bird is dull, or 'stupid,' as we term it, and has been tried from various points of the compass, it often happens that, when taken to a distance (say thirty or forty miles), the time occupied in reaching the loft is three of four times longer than was expected; but, take it there next day, and the journey will be done quicker than a mile a minute. Why is that? Well, the birds get confused; some object which it may have seen on a former journey, may possibly stand out boldly; and, flying at once toward this, the bird may find itself just as far from finding the 'lay of the land.' Thus it may go from one familiar point to another before 'striking' for home. That is the reason why, in training a bird for a match, we take it only in the direction from which it will have to fly, increase the distance gradually, until the bird is familiar with the path it must travel and recognises each landmark as soon as it comes in sight."

ORDER V. Fowls. In this order (Gallinæ) the Grouse, the Ptarmigan, the Quail, the Peacock, the Pheasant, the Jungle Fowl, the Guinea Fowl, and the Wild Turkey are included; as well as our Domestic Fowls to the forms of which they more or less closely approximate. The Black Grouse, and the Red Grouse are found throughout Great Britain; the Prairie Grouse in North America. The Ptarmigan is found in Scotland and in the North of the continent of Europe; it changes colour with the seasons, becoming snow-white in winter. The Quail is found in many parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa; it visits England in the early summer and leaves about October for Africa, where it winters.

The Peacock. The Peacock has been famous in the East from before the days of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and has been much affected in England in more recent years, on account of its beauty, as an adornment of English lawns, and as a royal dainty upon the festive board. It may be said still to keep its place as an ornament of the park, but it is no longer the choice of the epicure and seldom appears at the feast. It is said to have come originally from Persia and has doubtless reached the west from India where it still abounds. Colonel Williamson says that he has seen, in the passes of the Jungletery district, as many as twelve or fifteen hundred pea-fowls of various sizes within sight of one spot. "The gorgeous plumes that adorn the Peacock," says Mr. Wood, "do not compose the tail, as many suppose, but are only the tail-coverts. The tail feathers themselves are short and rigid, and serve to keep the train spread, as may be seen when the bird walks about in all the majesty of his expanded plumage. Although pea-fowl seek their food on the ground, they invariably roost on some elevated situation, such as a high branch, or the roof of a barn or haystack." The peacock is swift of foot, but heavy on the wing, and remains ordinarily on the ground, where it finds its food. It has a harsh voice. The peahen is a plain, homely looking bird, lacking the gorgeous tail which adorns her lord and master. Guillim, an old writer quoted by Captain Brown, says: "The Peacock is so proud, that when he erecteth his fan of plumes, he admireth himself. He displayeth his plumes against the rays of the sun, that they may glister the more gloriously: and he loseth this beautiful train yearly with the fall of the leaf; at which time he becometh bashful, and seeketh corners, where he may be secret from the sight of men, until the spring of the year, when his train beginneth to be renewed. And such is the quality of many dames, who being painted and richly attired, cannot keep within doors; but being undressed, and in their own hue, they are loath any man should see them."

The Pheasant. There are several varieties of the Pheasant, of which the Peacock Pheasant of Burmah, the Argus Pheasant of Malacca, the Golden Pheasant of China, and the Common Pheasant are the better known species. The Common Pheasant is a native of the British Isles, where it is cultivated and preserved. Under some circumstances the cock pheasant displays considerable pugnacity and a story is told of a young lady who when walking near Stirling was attacked by one which, "with spurs and beak began a furious assault. Seeing no escape from the enraged bird, she seized her adversary, and carried him home. He was, however, soon released, and when the door was opened, he went out without any sign of fear, and, with a deliberate step, paced backwards and forwards in front of the house, and manifested an inclination to join the fowls in the poultry yard. The only way to account for this assault is, that the lady wore a scarlet mantle, to which the pheasant may have had such an antipathy as the turkey cock manifests to that colour; an antipathy evinced by many other birds, and various quadrupeds; and the cause of which is to us a mystery."

The Partridge. The partridge is an interesting bird and shows great intelligence in the care of its young. Mr. Jesse mentions an instance quoted by Mr. Wood. "A gentleman who was overlooking his ploughman, saw a partridge run from her nest, almost crushed by the horses' hoofs. Being certain that the next furrow must bury the eggs and nest, he watched for the return of the plough, when to his great astonishment, the nest, previously containing twenty-one eggs, was vacant. After a search, he found the bird sitting upon the eggs under a hedge, nearly forty yards from the nest, to which place she and her mate had removed the whole number in less than twenty minutes." Mr. Markwick relates, that "as he was once hunting with a young pointer, the dog ran on a brood of very small partridges. The old bird cried, fluttered, and ran trembling along just before the dog's nose, till she had drawn him to a considerable distance; when she took wing and flew farther off, but not out of the field. On this the dog returned nearly to the place where the young ones lay concealed in the grass; which the old bird no sooner perceived, than she flew back again, settled just before the dog's nose, and a second time acted the same part, rolling and tumbling about till she drew off his attention from the brood, and thus succeeded in preserving them."

The Wild Turkey. The Wild Turkey was at one time common in all parts of America, but it is fast diminishing, and is now seldom found except in the western territories. It is often larger than the domestic turkey; it is gregarious and feeds on grain, seeds, and fruits. It is the original stock of the domestic turkey. Mr. Lucien Bonaparte has given a long and interesting account of this bird. He says they sometimes fly across broad rivers, ascending the tallest trees on one side, and the whole flock starting together. Some of the younger and weaker birds sometimes fall into the water and either paddle to the shore or are drowned.

The Domestic Turkey. The Wild Turkey was first carried to Europe and other parts of the eastern continent and domesticated in the 16th century. It is now extensively diffused over the world, and its flesh is ranked among the most delicious poultry. The cock is a noisy fellow, strutting about, and displaying his plumage with great ostentation; he is also very quarrelsome. The hen seems to possess a more modest and retiring disposition, wandering about the fields with a melancholy and dejected air, occasionally uttering a short plaintive note. She is exceedingly attached to her young, but leads them away from danger without ever attempting to defend them by repelling an attack.

The Sagacity of the Turkey. Of the sagacity of the Turkey Audubon says: "While at Henderson, on the Ohio, I had a fine male turkey, which had been reared from its earliest youth under my care. It became so tame that it would follow any person who called it, and was the favourite of the little village. Yet it would never roost with the tame turkeys; but regularly betook itself at night to the roof of the house, where it remained till dawn. When two years old it began to fly to the woods, where it remained for a considerable part of the day, and returned to the enclosure as night approached. It continued this practice until the following spring, when I saw it several times fly from its roosting-place to the top of a high cotton-tree on the bank of the Ohio, from which, after resting a little, it would sail to the opposite shore, the river being there nearly half a mile wide, and return towards night. One morning I saw it fly off, at a very early hour, to the woods in another direction, and took no particular notice of the circumstance. Several days elapsed, but the bird did not return. I was going towards some lakes near Green River, to shoot, when, having walked about five miles, I saw a fine large gobbler cross the path before me, moving leisurely along. Turkeys being then in prime condition for the table, I ordered my dog to chase it and put it up. The animal went off with great rapidity, and as it approached the turkey, I saw, with great surprise, that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on the point of seizing it, when she suddenly stopped, and turned her head towards me. I hastened to them; but you may easily conceive my surprise when I saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised the dog, and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange dog would have caused it to run off at once. A friend of mine, being in search of a wounded deer, took the bird on his saddle before him, and carried it home for me. The following spring it was accidentally shot, having been taken for a wild bird, and brought to me, on being recognised by the red ribband which it had round its neck."

Sitting Turkey Cocks. The male Turkey is said to be but an indifferent father, but there are some curious illustrations on record of his displaying maternal instincts. Captain Brown tells of a cock Turkey near Abingdon who manifested a desire to sit and was allowed to experiment with thirteen eggs, from which in three weeks he hatched twelve fine chickens. A precisely similar incident occurred many years ago in Sweden, according to the same authority.

Domestic Fowls. The Domestic Fowls are too well known to need description here. They are said to have descended from the Java species and have long been the subjects of systematic and careful culture. John Guillim who wrote in 1677 and whose quaint description of the peacock we have already quoted, says: "As some account the eagle the queen, and the swallow or wagtail the lady, so may I term this (the cock) the knight amongst birds, being both of noble courage, and also prepared evermore to the battel, having his comb for an helmet, his sharp and hooked bill for a faulchion or court-lax, to slash and wound his enemy: and as a compleat soldier armed cap-a-pe, he hath his legs armed with spurs, giving example to the valiant soldier to expell danger by fight, and not by flight. The cock croweth when he is victor and giveth a testimony of his conquest. If he be vanquished, he shunneth the light, and society of men." The cock is a courageous bird and in fighting with his own kind or in the defence of his family will show great gallantry and endurance. Buffon thus describes an encounter of which he was an observer. He says: "I have just witnessed a curious scene. A sparrow hawk alighted in a populous court-yard; when a young cock, of this year's hatching, instantly darted at him, and threw him on his back. In this situation, the hawk defending himself with his talons and his bill, intimidated the hens and turkeys, which streamed tumultuously around him. After having a little recovered himself, he rose and was taking wing; when the cock rushed upon him a second time, upset him, and held him down so long, that he was easily caught by a person who witnessed the conflict." The cock is said to show many of the qualities which belong to knighthood. He is jealous, and has been known to kill a hen which has hatched a foreign brood; and he is chivalrous both in the treatment of his hens and in their defence against their enemies. He has a sense of justice too, which he does not hesitate to assert on occasion. Mrs. Bowdich says: "On one occasion I saw a cock pursue a hen round the poultry-yard; and, as she had a worm in her bill, I at first thought he was so acting from a greedy desire to have the delicious morsel; but when he at last caught her, he gave her a knock on the head with his beak, and, taking up the worm which she had dropped, brought it to another hen, who stood witnessing the affray in mute expectation. A further knowledge of the habits of these birds has made me feel sure she had purloined the worm from the other, and the cock had restored it to its rightful owner." Though natural fighters, cocks sometimes form friendships for each other, and Captain Brown records an instance of two game cocks, belonging to the same owner, who obstinately declined combat though all means were tried to excite mutual animosity. These same birds when placed in the ring with other cocks fought furiously, and in both cases destroyed their antagonists.

The Common Hen. The hen gathering her chickens under her wings is a favourite type of motherhood, and it cannot be denied that in many ways the hen shows herself a model parent. The care she will expend upon her brood, or upon a brood of ducks which she may have hatched, is well known, and the courage she will show in their defence is well attested. The following from the "Percy Anecdotes" is an illustration of this: "In June, 1820, a contest of rather an unusual nature took place in the house of Mr. Collins, at Naul in Ireland. The parties concerned were, a hen of the game species, and a rat of the middle size. The hen, in an accidental perambulation round a spacious room, accompanied by an only chicken, the sole surviving offspring of a numerous brood, was roused to madness by an unprovoked attack made by a voracious rat, on her unsuspecting companion. The shrieks of the beloved captive, while dragged away by the enemy, excited every maternal feeling in the affectionate bosom of the feathered dame: she flew at the corner whence the alarm arose, seized the lurking enemy by the neck, writhed him about the room, put out one of his eyes in the engagement, and so fatigued her opponent by repeated attacks of spur and bill, that in the space of twelve minutes, during which time the conflict lasted, she put a final period to the invader's existence; nimbly turned round, in wild but triumphant distraction, to her palpitating nestling, and hugged it in her victorious bosom." In this same work there is a story of a hen, near Exeter, which devoted itself with much assiduity and success to catching mice. Hens often take to other animals and have been known to show great attachment to kittens, and to dogs, instances being recorded of hens living in dogs' kennels and laying their eggs there under canine protection. The concern shown by hens, when the ducks they may have hatched take to the water, is very amusing. Captain Brown gives an instance of a hen which had become used to this phenomena, from having been employed in hatching successive broods of ducks, and which showed equal concern when a brood of her own chickens avoided the watery element.

ORDER VI. The Hoazin. The Hoazin is the only bird of this order. It belongs to Brazil and Guiana and is nearly as large as the peacock. It has been variously classified but, differing in important characteristics from any other bird, it is deemed best to place it in an order by itself.

ORDER VII. Birds of Prey. This order includes the Vultures, Condors, Eagles, Kites, Falcons, Goshawks, Sparrowhawks, Buzzards, Kestrals, Owls, &c., &c. Interesting as many of these birds are the briefest possible mention is all that we can give of some of them.

The Eagle. Whatever may be said of the claims of other birds, the Eagle is traditionally the king of the air, as the lion is king of the forest. There are a large number of species of which the Golden Eagle, the Spotted Eagle, the Imperial Eagle and the White-headed Sea Eagle are among the best known varieties. The Golden Eagle belongs to Europe and America, and is sometimes found in Scotland and Ireland. It lives upon smaller birds and animals: hares, young lambs and deer, grouse, plovers, &c., &c. Though the eagle has often attacked children the stories of its carrying them away are generally discredited. Eagles often hunt in pairs and show great ferocity and determination in attacking their prey.

Eagle Shooting. Mr. St. John gives the following description of a shooting expedition in which he bagged a pair of splendid birds. "On a very dark morning I sallied out with Malcolm to take a shot at the eagles, and at last I was ensconced in a hiding-place (near the dead body of a sheep) which gave me hardly room to stand, sit, or lie. It was scarcely grey dawn when a bird with a slow, flapping flight passed, and alighted out of sight, but near, for I heard him strike the ground, and my heart beat faster. What was my disappointment, when his low, crowing croak announced a raven; he hopped and walked suspiciously round the sheep, till, supposing the coast clear, he hopped upon the carcase, and began with his cut and thrust beak to dig at the meat. Another raven soon joined him, and then two more, who, after a kind of parley, were admitted to their share of the banquet. They suddenly set up a croak of alarm, stopped feeding, and all turned their knowing eyes in one direction. At that moment I heard a sharp scream, but very distant. The black party heard it too, and instantly darted off, alighting again at a little distance. Next came a rushing noise, and the monarch of the clouds lighted at once on the sheep. He quietly folded up his wings, and, throwing back his magnificent head, looked round at the ravens, as if wondering at their impudence in approaching his breakfast; they kept a respectful silence, and hopped further away. The royal bird then turned his head in my direction, his bright eye that instant catching mine, as it glanced along the barrel of my gun. He rose, I drew the trigger, and he fell quite dead six yards from the sheep. As one eagle is always followed by a second, I remained quiet, in hopes that his mate was not within hearing of my shot. I had not waited many minutes when I saw the other eagle skimming low over the brow of the hill towards me. She did not alight at once, but her eye catching the dead body of her mate, she wheeled up into the air. I thought she was lost to me, when presently I heard her wings brush close over my head, and she wheeled round and round the dead bird, turning her head downwards to make out what had happened. At times she stooped so low that I could see the sparkle of her eye, and hear her low, complaining cry. I watched the time when she turned up her wing towards me, and dropped her actually on the body of the other. She rose to her feet, and stood gazing at me with a reproachful look, and would have done battle, but death was busy with her, and as I was loading in haste she reeled, and fell perfectly dead."

The White-Headed Eagle. The white-headed or bald eagle, is a native of North America, and feeds equally on the produce of the sea and of the land, but is particularly fond of fish. "In procuring these," says Wilson, "he displays in a very singular manner the genius and energy of his character, which is fierce, contemplative, daring and tyrannical, attributes not exerted but on particular occasions, but when put forth overwhelming all opposition." "Elevated," says Wilson, in his "American Ornithology," "on the high dead limb of some gigantic tree, that commands a high view of the neighbouring shore and ocean, he seems calmly to contemplate the motions of the various feathered tribes that pursue their busy avocations below; the snow-white gulls, slowly winnowing the air; the busy tringæ, coursing along the sands; trains of ducks streaming over the surface; silent and watchful cranes, intent and wading; clamorous crows; and all the winged multitude that subsist by the bounty of this vast liquid magazine of nature. High over all these hovers one, whose action instantly arrests all attention. By his wide curvature of wing, and sudden suspension in the air, he knows him to be the fish-hawk, settling over some devoted victim of the deep. His eye kindles at the sight, and balancing himself with half-opened wings on the branch, he watches the result. Down, rapid as an arrow from heaven, descends the distant object of his attention, the roar of its wings reaching the ear as it disappears in the deep, making the surges foam around! At this moment the looks of the eagle are all ardour; and levelling his neck for flight, he sees the fish-hawk once more emerge, struggling with his prey, and mounting into the air with screams of exultation. This is the signal for the eagle, who, launching in the air, instantly gives chase, and soon gains on the fish-hawk; each exerts his utmost power to mount above the other, displaying in these rencontres the most elegant and sublime aërial evolutions. The unencumbered eagle rapidly advances, and is just on the point of reaching his opponent, when with a sudden scream, probably of despair and honest execration, the latter drops his fish; the eagle poising himself for a moment, as if to take a more certain aim, descends like a whirlwind, snatches it in his grasp ere it reaches the water, and bears his ill-gotten booty silently away into the woods."

The Vulture. The Vultures have been sometimes called the Hyænas of the feathered world, and judged by their habits, they certainly justify the term. As scavengers they serve a useful purpose in Eastern lands and deserve the protection they are said to receive from the natives. The Griffin Vulture of Europe, Turkey, Persia and Africa, the Egyptian Vulture of the Nile country, and the Condor, or American Vulture, are the best known varieties.

The Condor. The American Condor is the largest of the birds of prey, and is said to partake of the ferocity of the Eagle and the filthiness of the Vulture. "Two of these birds, acting in concert," says an American writer, "will frequently attack a puma, a llama, a calf, or even a full-grown cow. They will pursue the poor animal with unwearied pertinacity, lacerating it incessantly with their beaks and talons, until it falls exhausted with fatigue and loss of blood. Then, having first seized upon its tongue, they proceed to tear out its eyes, and commence their feast with these favourite morsels. The intestines form the second course of their banquet, which is usually continued until the birds have gorged themselves so fully as to render themselves incapable of using their wings in flight." This bird is said to measure from three and a half to four feet from head to tail.

The King of the Vultures. This bird which is the handsomest of its tribe is called the King of the vultures, because of the royal honours it receives from common vultures. Mr. Byam says in his "Central America," "One day, having lost a mule by death, he was dragged up to a small hill, not far off, where I knew, in an hour or two, he would be safely buried in vulture-sepulture. I was standing on a hillock, about a hundred yards off, with a gun in my hand, watching the surprising distance that a vulture descries his prey from, and the gathering of so many from all parts, up and down wind, where none had been seen before, and that in a very short space of time. Hearing a loud, whirring noise over my head, I looked up, and saw a fine large bird, with outstretched and seemingly motionless wings, sailing towards the carcase that had already been partially demolished. I would not fire at the bird; for I had a presentiment that it was his majesty of the vultures; but beckoned to an Indian to come up the hill—and, showing him the bird that had just alighted, he said, 'the King of the vultures; you will see how he is adored.' Directly the fine-looking bird approached the carcase, the oi polloi of the vultures retired to a short distance; some flew off, and perched on some contiguous branch; while by far the greatest number remained, acting the courtier, by forming a most respectful and well-kept ring around him. His majesty, without any signs of acknowledgment for such great civility, proceeded to make a most gluttonous meal; but, during the whole time he was employed, not a single envious bird attempted to intrude upon him at his repast, until he had finished, and taken his departure with a heavier wing and slower flight than on his arrival; but when he had taken his perch on a high tree, not far off, his dirty, ravenous subjects, increased in number during his repast, ventured to discuss the somewhat diminished carcase; for the royal appetite was certainly very fine. I have since beheld the above scene acted many times, but always with great interest."

A Feast of Vultures. Wilson gives the following account of the Black Vulture of America. "February 21st, 1809. Went out to Hampstead this forenoon. A horse had dropped down in the street, in convulsions; and dying, it was dragged out to Hampstead, and skinned. I ventured cautiously within thirty yards of the carcase, where three or four dogs, and twenty or thirty vultures, were busily tearing and devouring. Seeing them take no notice, I ventured nearer, till I was within ten yards, and sat down on the bank. Still they paid little attention to me. The dogs being sometimes accidentally flapped with the wings of the vultures, would growl and snap at them, which would occasion them to spring up for a moment, but they immediately gathered in again. I remarked the vultures frequently attack each other, fighting with their claws or heels, striking like a cock, with open wings, and fixing their claws in each other's heads. The females, and I believe the males likewise, made a hissing sound with open mouth, exactly resembling that produced by thrusting a red hot poker into water; and frequently a snuffing like a dog clearing his nostrils, as I suppose they were theirs. On observing that they did not heed me, I stole so close that my feet were within one yard of the horse's legs, and I again sat down. They all slid aloof a few feet; but seeing me quiet, they soon returned as before. As they were often disturbed by the dogs, I ordered the latter home: my voice gave no alarm to the vultures. As soon as the dogs departed, the vultures crowded in such numbers, that I counted at one time thirty-seven on and around the carcase, with several within; so that scarcely an inch of it was visible. Sometimes one would come out with a large piece of the entrails, which in a moment was surrounded by several others, who tore it in fragments, and it soon disappeared. They kept up the hissing occasionally. Some of them having their whole legs and heads covered with blood, presented a most savage aspect. Sometimes I observed them stretching their neck along the ground, as if to press the food downwards."

The Secretary Bird. The Secretary Bird, so called from the possession of feathers thought to resemble pens behind the ear, feeds on snakes and other reptiles. Le Vaillant, who in dissecting one of these birds, found in his crop eleven large lizards, three serpents each a yard in length, eleven small tortoises and a great quantity of locusts and other insects, once witnessed a contest thus referred in the "Percy Anecdotes":

"When the secretary approaches a serpent, it always carries the point of one of its wings forward, in order to parry off its venomous bites; sometimes it finds an opportunity of spurning and treading upon its antagonist; or else, of taking him upon its pinions, and throwing him into the air. When by this system it has, at length, wearied out its adversary, and rendered him almost senseless, it kills and swallows him at leisure. On the occasion which Vaillant mentions, the battle was obstinate, and conducted with equal address on both sides. The serpent, feeling at last his inferiority, endeavoured to regain his hole; while the bird apparently guessing his design, stopped him on a sudden, and cut off his retreat by placing herself before him at a single leap. On whatever side the reptile endeavoured to make his escape, the enemy still appeared before him. Rendered desperate, the serpent resolved on a last effort. He erected himself boldly to intimidate the bird, and hissing dreadfully, displayed his menacing throat, inflamed eyes, and a head swollen with rage and venom. The bird seemed intimidated for a moment, but soon returned to the charge; and covering her body with one of her wings as a buckler, struck her enemy with the bony protuberance of the other. M. Vaillant saw the serpent at last stagger and fall; the conqueror then fell upon him to despatch him, and with one stroke of her beak laid open his skull."

The Kite. The Osprey. The Buzzard. The Kite is common in Europe and is sometimes seen in Scotland. It is a bird of the Hawk kind and may easily be distinguished from other birds of prey by its forked tail and the slow and circular eddies it describes in the air whenever it spies its prey. It measures about two feet in length. The Osprey is common in Europe and America. It feeds principally upon fish, in pursuit of which it frequents the sea coast and the borders of lakes and rivers. It is about two feet in length. The common Buzzard is rather smaller, measuring twenty or twenty-two inches. It nests on high trees and watches on overhanging branches for any prey that may pass beneath. The Marsh Harrier which measures twenty-one to twenty-three inches is a formidable foe to moles and mice, rabbits and reptiles.

The Falcon. The Peregrine Falcon so famous in the days of Falconry is a fearless bird and does not hesitate to attack those of much larger size. For this reason it was often employed in hunting the Heron. "In this contest," says Mr. Wood, "the Falcon was almost always victorious, and after it had attained a sufficient altitude, it swept, or 'stooped', as the phrase was, upon the Heron. When the Falcon had closed with its prey, they both came to the ground together. Sometimes, however, the wary Heron contrived to receive its enemy on the point of its sharp beak, and transfixed it by its own impetus." This bird is from fifteen to eighteen inches in length. Mr. Selby in his "Ornithology" says, "In daring disposition, this bird equals most of its congeners. I may be allowed to add the following instance, as having happened under my own observation, and as exemplifying not only its determined perseverance in pursuit of its prey, when under the pressure of hunger, but as arguing also an unexpected degree of foresight:—In exercising my dogs upon the moors, previous to the commencement of the shooting-season, I observed a large bird of the hawk genus, hovering at a distance, which, upon approaching, I knew to be a Peregrine Falcon. Its attention was now drawn towards the dogs, and it accompanied them, whilst they beat the surrounding ground. Upon their having found, and sprung a brood of grouse, the falcon immediately gave chase, and struck a young bird, before they had proceeded far upon wing. My shouts and rapid advance, prevented it from securing its prey. The issue of this attempt, however, did not deter the falcon from watching our subsequent movements, and another opportunity soon offering, it again gave chase, and struck down two birds, by two rapidly repeated blows, one of which it secured, and bore off in triumph."

The Sparrow Hawk. The Sparrow-hawk which measures from twelve to fifteen inches long is a terror to smaller birds, showing great pertinacity in their pursuit. Mr. St. John says that one pursued a pigeon through his "drawing-room window, and out at the other end of the house through another window, and never slackened its pursuit, notwithstanding the clattering of the broken glass of the two windows as they passed through," and that on another occasion he found "a sparrow hawk deliberately standing on a very large pouter pigeon on the drawing-room floor, and plucking it, having entered in pursuit of the unfortunate bird through an open window, and killed him in the room." White says, in his "Natural History of Selborne," "About the tenth of July, a pair of sparrow-hawks bred in an old crow's nest on a low beech in Selborne-hanger; and as their brood, which was numerous, began to grow up, they became so daring and ravenous, that they were a terror to all the dames in the village that had chickens or ducklings under their care. A boy climbed the tree, and found the young so fledged that they all escaped from him; but discovered that a good house had been kept; the larder was well stored with provisions; for he brought down a young blackbird, jay, and house martin, all clean picked, and some half devoured. The old birds had been observed to make sad havoc for some days among the new flown swallows and martins, which, being but lately out of their nests, had not acquired those powers and command of wing that enable them when more mature to set enemies at defiance."

The Owl. Great interest attaches to the owl from the singularity of its appearance and habits. There are many varieties, the Common Barn Owl; the Long-eared Owl; the Great Eagle Owl; and the American Horned Owl being some of these. The Barn Owl measures about twelve inches in length. This bird does great service in the destruction of mice, rats, and other vermin, and it is the nemesis of fate that it is destroyed by those it serves. Its movements are noiseless, the peculiar form of the feathers of its wings enabling it to fly without making any sound, and so surprise its prey. "Its method of devouring a mouse," says Mr. Wood, "is quite different from the mode in which it eats a bird. If a mouse is given to an owl, the bird seizes it across the back, and gives it one or two smart bites, much as a terrier handles a rat. The mouse is then jerked upwards, and caught again head downwards. A second jerk sends the mouse half down the owl's throat, while its tail remains sticking out of the side of its bill, where it is rolled about as if the owl were smoking. After some time has been spent in this amusement, another jerk causes the mouse to disappear altogether, and the owl looks very happy and contented. But if a small bird is presented to it, the owl tears it up and devours it piecemeal." The great Eagle Owl which measures two feet and upwards will attack hares, rabbits, and young fawns.

ORDER VIII. Wading Birds. The order of wading birds includes many that we can do no more than mention:—the Moor Hen; the Woodcock; the Snipe; the Water pheasant; the Plover; the Lapwing; the Crane; the Heron; the Stork; and the Flamingo are the more familiar birds of the order, which however includes the Crakes; the Coots; the Curlews; the Bustards; the Sandpipers, and others.

The Cranes. The Cranes belong to Africa and Southern Asia, but migrate from clime to clime as the seasons change. The flight of the Cranes, like that of some other birds, is a compact and well ordered progression. They fly high and commonly at night, apparently under the direction of a leader whose course they follow and whose calls they obey. There are several varieties, the Common Crane, the Numidian Crane, and the Balearic Crane being the better known of these.

The Heron. The Heron is an expert fisherman and has all the necessary patience for the pursuit of his sport. He will stand motionless for hours at the water side, waiting his opportunity, and then dart with unerring aim at the unsuspecting fish and secure his meal. The bill of the heron is a powerful weapon, and as we remarked when dealing with the falcons, formerly used in hunting the heron, it will sometimes transfix the Falcon by throwing its head back and receiving its enemy on the point. Captain Brown gives an illustration which shows that the Heron's bill may be as effective in other cases. "A gentleman being on a shooting excursion, accompanied by a small spaniel, observed a heron wading a little above a waterfall. He fired—wounded it—and sent his dog into the stream to bring it to land. As soon as the dog had come within its reach, the heron drew back its head, and with all its force, struck him in the ribs with its bill. The gentleman again fired, and killed the heron; but it had well revenged itself: both dog and heron floated dead together, down the foaming waterfall." The Heron nests on the tops of high trees and lives in companies.

The Bittern. The Bittern is remarkable for its loud booming cry which has some resemblance to the bellowing of a bull, and for its spiral flight which it pursues to a great altitude.

The Stork. Storks are found in different parts of Europe, Asia and Africa. In Holland, and in some other countries, they live in a state of semi-domestication, encouraged by the people, and building nests upon the roofs of their houses. They feed on rats, mice, frogs, and other vermin, and render the Hollander good service by keeping down the numbers of such pests. In the East they act as scavengers, and for this reason are as much encouraged by the people. "A recent visitor to Constantinople," says Mr. Wood, "remarks that the very Storks seemed to have become Ottoman, for they sat on the tops of the houses, looking staid and solemn, as becomes the Oriental character, and managed their beaks just as if they were pipes. It is true that they wore no turbans, but each of them appeared to have left a turban of preposterous dimensions, viz., his nest, on the roof of a house close by." The Stork is easily tamed and sometimes shows considerable intelligence.

The Jealousy of the Stork. The following illustration which we take from the "Percy Anecdotes" shows that the Stork shares with other birds the feeling of jealousy. "In Smyrna there are a great number of storks, who build their nests and hatch their young very regularly. The inhabitants, in order to divert themselves at the expense of these birds, and gratify a cruel disposition, sometimes convey hens' eggs into the stork's nest; and when the young are hatched, the cock on seeing them of a different form from his own species, makes a hideous noise, which brings a crowd of other storks about the nest, who to revenge the disgrace which they imagine the hen has brought upon her race, immediately peck her to death. The cock in the meantime makes the heaviest lamentation, as if bewailing his misfortune, which obliged him to have recourse to such extreme punishment."

A Stork's Revenge. From the same work we quote the following, which shows that though ordinarily placid and placable the stork can cherish the feeling of revenge. "A wild stork was brought by a farmer in the neighbourhood of Hamburgh, into his poultry yard, to be the companion of a tame one, which he had long kept there; but the tame stork disliking a rival, fell upon the poor stranger, and beat him so unmercifully that he was compelled to take wing, and with some difficulty escaped. About four months afterwards, however, he returned to the poultry yard, recovered of his wounds, and attended by three other storks, who no sooner alighted, than they all together fell upon the tame stork, and killed it."

ORDER IX. The Geese. This order includes the Goose, the Duck, the Swan, the Teal, the Gull, the Petrel, the Albatross, the Cormorant, the Pelican, the Penguin, the Grebe, the Great Auk, the Puffin and other birds. The first of these is found in all parts of the world, geese being especially cultivated in England for the sake of their quills and feathers, and for the purposes of food. The goose, far from being the foolish bird it is popularly esteemed, often shows considerable intelligence, as well as great affection for those who show it kindness.

The Gratitude of the Goose. Many instances are recorded of gratitude shown by geese towards those who have befriended them. Buffon once rescued a young gander from an older and stronger bird, after which his young protégé would follow him on all his daily walks, never tiring of his company. "On one occasion," says Buffon, "he heard me talking in the rector's upper room, and as he found the front door open, climbed upstairs, and, marching into the room, gave a loud exclamation of joy, to the no small astonishment of the family."

A Wild Goose Chase. Bishop Stanley, in his "Familiar History of Birds," says:—"An officer settled on a farm near the Missouri in North America, one day, when walking near the banks of the river, observed a large eagle frequently darting towards the water, and then rising again. On a near approach, he perceived that its object was to take a wild goose, which had alighted on the water, and which was diving to avoid so powerful an enemy. Its efforts, however, appeared to be in vain; and, after diving again and again, and as often rising to get breath, it became nearly exhausted, when, suddenly turning, it made for the shore with all speed towards the officer's house, where two men were at work, and as soon as it had landed walked leisurely up to them, permitting itself to be taken without attempting to escape. It was completely exhausted, but soon recovered, and within three days seemed quite contented, and confident of protection."

Goose Friendships. There are some curious instances known of friendships formed by geese for both men and animals, apparently without any special reason. A goose in Cheshire once followed a farmer with so much persistency, at the plough, to the market, and in the house, that the farmer who had shown it no special kindness, superstitiously regarded it as a bird of ill omen and had it killed. A singular friendship grew up some years ago between a gander at York and an old man who lived near the farm to which the bird belonged. In this case the gander waddled off in the morning and spent the day with his human friend, returning at night to its home at the farm. One of the prettiest of these stories is that of a gander in Germany who used to lead a blind woman to church, taking the corner of her apron in his beak, and wait quietly in the churchyard until the service was over to conduct her home again. Another goose was known to have a great affection for soldiers and to regularly perform sentry duty, walking backwards and forwards for hours with his red-coated friends.

The Goose and the Dog. A more singular friendship than any perhaps, was that existing between a goose and a dog, thus described in "The Philosophical Magazine":—

"A species of goose, a native of Africa, belonging to a person in Scotland, was observed some time ago to pay particular attention to a dog which was chained up; a dog which had previously manifested a great dislike to poultry, never allowing them to come within reach of his chain. The goose, finding she had nothing to fear from her canine friend, would enter his kennel, in the centre of which, among the straw, she made her nest and deposited her eggs, which was not known till one of the family mentioned that the goose slept in the dog's bosom. The singularity of the circumstance led to an examination of the box, but not without the greatest reluctance on the part of the dog, who appeared determined to protect what was left to his charge. On removing the straw, five eggs were discovered in a fine bed of down and feathers. The dog was in the habit of going into his box with the greatest care, for fear of injuring the eggs."

The Maternal Instinct of the Goose. The Rev. C. A. Bury gives a pathetic illustration of the maternal instinct of the goose:—

"An old goose, that had been for a fortnight hatching in a farmer's kitchen was perceived on a sudden to be taken violently ill. She soon after left the nest, and repaired to an outhouse where there was a young goose of the first year, which she brought with her into the kitchen. The young one immediately scrambled into the old one's nest, sat, hatched, and afterwards brought up the brood. The old goose, as soon as the young one had taken her place, sat down by the side of the nest, and shortly after died. As the young goose had never been in the habit of entering the kitchen before, I know of no way of accounting for this fact than by supposing that the old one had some way of communicating her thoughts and anxieties, which the other was perfectly able to understand. A sister of mine, who witnessed the transaction, gave me the information in the evening of the very day it happened." The Rev. F. C. Morris tells of a goose which had a number of ducks' eggs placed with some of her own that she might hatch them, but which twice removed the ducks' eggs from the group, declining to sit on any but her own.