Yet it is not by any means all the perching birds which have this wonderful gift of song. Even among our own birds, the jay, the crow, the raven, and others, use their musical instrument for talking in a way that is no doubt useful to them, but scarcely pleasant to hear; and in America there is a whole group of songless perching birds—the bright coloured chatterers, the fly-catching tyrant-birds, the American ant-thrushes, which have not even developed a true singing instrument in their throat, and only utter shrill or bell-like cries. Yet they all build nests and cherish their helpless young ones; and so large and varied is the group of perching birds, whether in the Old or New World, that they fill all the stray nooks and corners of bird-life, often imitating the habits of the other smaller groups so as to get at food of all kinds. Thus, while the Finches with their delicate matted nests, the Warblers, and a large number of the smaller birds, lead a true tree and bush life, feeding on fruits and insects, the Thrushes, Blackbirds, Crows, Redbreasts, and Larks are ground-feeders, which, though they do not scratch with their feet like the partridges, turn up the ground with their bills and pick out the worms and grubs.

For this reason the Song-thrushes love to build their nest of twigs and moss lined with soft wood chips, in some thick hedge near to a meadow or garden, where they can drop down and pull up the unfortunate worms before they have gone home underground after their nightly rambles, or pounce upon unwary snails, and, taking them in their beak, crack the shell upon a stone, and carry off the dainty morsel to their brood; while the Lark, with her long hind toe, so well fitted for walking, hides her nest in a furrow on the ground; and the greedy cunning Magpie, feeding, as she often does, on young animals, seems to fear the same fate for her own brood, and builds a large egg-shaped dome of thorny branches, with the thorns sticking out on all sides, and lined with mud and soft roots, leaving only a small hole for a door. Lastly, the sagacious Rooks, though ground-feeders, build strong homes which last from year to year, in the top of the high elms, and set out in companies in the early morning to their feeding grounds.

Fig. 45.

Nest of the Common Wren.[106]

Then, as there are ground-feeders among the

Footnote 106. Troglodytes parvulus.

perchers, so, too, there are climbers, for the Creepers, the Wryneck, and the Nuthatch, run up and down the trees, feeding on insects and nuts, which the nuthatch breaks so cleverly with his beak; and we might almost fancy them to be first cousins to the woodpeckers, if it were not for their three toes in front and long claw behind, and their short thick beak and tail. Even the little Wren, with her cocked-up tail, imitates the climbers as she creeps through the hedges and underwood, though she is a true perching bird, and builds one of the most perfect of nests of moss and grass, woven into the shape of a ball, with a tiny hole for a door. Then, to match the darting birds, we have the Swallow and the Fly Catcher which follow insects on the wing, so that the swallow and swift were long confounded together, though the skeleton of the swallow shows that it belongs to perching birds. Again, the Shrike imitates the birds of prey, feeding on small mice, reptiles, and birds, and impaling them upon a sharp thorn while he tears them to pieces with his beak. Yet he is a true percher, singing as beautifully as many of the smaller birds, and he is even said to use his power of song to lure victims within reach. Lastly, and perhaps most curious of all, the little Dipper or Water-Ouzel, with his clear loud song, and his structure so like to the thrushes, has actually taken to the habits of water-birds, and dives into the depths of the river, running along upon the bottom and feeding on water-snails and water-insects.

Fig. 46.

Nest of the Tailor-Bird[107] of India or China.

All these we find among English birds; and if we had space to speak of other countries, we should find the same history there, for the more we study

Footnote 107. Orthotomus sutorius.

bird-life the more we find that these Perchers are its highest types, and have learned to make the most of their kingdom. It is they who build the most perfect nests, from the rough strong basket-work of the crow or the magpie, to the wren’s thickly-woven ball, or the finches’ matted cups; while in America the Hang-nests weave their lovely pear-shaped homes, and suspend them like fruit from the tips of the branches; and in India and China the Tailor-birds actually sew leaves together with cotton fibre or cobweb threads, which they draw through with their slender bill and strengthen with saliva.

The smaller the bird and the more delicate its feet and bill, the more closely woven, as a rule, is its nest. Yet all are built with care; the mother bird, as a rule, choosing the position and laying the twigs, while the father helps her to collect the materials. So rapidly do these little creatures work, that among our smaller English birds the early morning sees the work begun, and by evening it is ended. Other birds are longer, according to the amount of material they have to collect; but all labour industriously till the

cradle is finished, and then begins the laying, the sitting, the tender care of the mother for her little ones, and of the father for his wife and brood.

* * * * *

And indeed there is much need both of skill in nest building and of watchfulness for many a long day after, for if the perchers are the highest, they are not by any means the strongest of birds; and while they feed on insects and smaller creatures, they have to guard their little ones with anxious care against the larger birds of prey which rule as masters in the higher regions of the air. It is on rocky pinnacles and in the clefts of inaccessible heights among the mountains that we must look for the nests of the Eagle, the Vulture, and the Falcon. Strong, powerful, and untiring in flight, they sail majestically high up in the air, not to sing a joyful song like the lark, but with piercing eye to search every corner for miles around, for animals of all sizes, from the dead ox or mule to the tiny living mouse or bird, which can serve for a meal.

Fig. 47.

The Eagle bringing food to its young.—(From a coloured lithograph by Keulemann.)

It needs only a glance at them to see that they are strong destroyers, with their powerful wings, their sharp hooked beaks, their long toes with pointed claws, and their strong muscular thighs; and because most men admire strength and power, we call such birds noble, though their nobility chiefly consists in loving their little ones, and asking neither pity nor shelter from others, as they themselves are pitiless in return. Those which we are apt to like the least, the carrion-feeding Vultures of hot countries, are really the most useful and harmless, for they feed chiefly on dead animals and clear the land of carrion; and for this reason neither their beak nor their claws are as strong as those of the fighting birds. But though they are grand in flight they are but repulsive-looking birds when compared with the lordly eagles. The beautiful Golden Eagle of Europe, with its dark

plumage and the golden sheen on its back and tail, is indeed a splendid object, as

“He clasps the crag with hooked hands,

Close to the sun in lonely lands,”

or still more, as he sweeps along with steady flight, circling round and glancing with searching eye over the plain beneath. Suddenly his attitude changes; he closes his wings, and, head downwards, drops to earth slantingwise with a rushing noise, seizing in his claws the startled fawn as it dashes by at full speed, the frolicking rabbit darting into its hole, or the terrified bird upon whom his choice has fallen. Then, with a powerful stroke he rises up again, and is lost to sight as he soars aloft and regains the rocky peak where his eyrie is built and his children are clamouring for food.

So, too, the dexterous Falcon swoops upon his prey swift as an arrow, his pointed wings striking the air, and then closing at once upon his body, while his long rounded tail guides him in his flight. Who would think that such a powerful and bold robber could have anything in common with the soft feathered owl which sits blinking its large eyes in the hollow of the tree till the twilight falls? And yet the Owl, with very little change in structure, has become as fitted to follow prey at night as the falcon is by day—

“What time the preying owl, with sleepy wing,

Sweeps o’er the cornfield, studious.”

The soft, round, broad wings, which would serve badly for striking a quarry from on high, are exactly fitted for gliding in the silence of the night, as, guided by wide open eye and ear, he skims over the fields or round the stacks in the yard to pounce noiselessly upon the unwary mouse or to seize the flying beetles and bats. Then the sharp claws appear quickly from under the downy feathered feet, and clutch the smallest prey with needle-like precision; and away the owl flies to his nest, so quietly that even the other animals close by are not alarmed, but in ignorant security remain till he comes to strike again.

And as the day and the night by land have their relentless freebooters, so the sea too has its eagle king; for the Osprey, with its nest on a high rock, hovers over the open sea, and, dashing into the deep, returns with a large fish in its claws; and, as it tears the flesh from under the glittering scales, reminds us that there is no spot on the earth in which some bird does not seek its prey.

We have now in very brief outline followed the feathery tribe from the flightless penguin to the boldly-soaring eagle, the king of the air. Those feathers which in the swimming bird are scarcely more than finely-divided scales, and in the ostrich mere loose nodding plumes, have become in the albatross, the vulture, and the soaring falcon, flying instruments of such power and strength that the earth and the water are as nothing to them compared with the free ocean of air; while even the tiny graceful swallow flies for hundreds of miles to its winter home.

Indeed, we have here one of the great secrets of bird success; for while most animals must roam within limited districts, and get their food there as best they can, thousands and tens of thousands of birds set off, when the colder weather makes food scarce in any one region, and travel hundreds of miles to more genial climates, where insects are still to be found, and the trees are still covered with fruit and leaves. How strange it is to think that while we are making the best of our winter, the swallow has taken her unerring flight to Africa, the swans and cranes have long since made their southward journey, and myriads of small birds have gone in search of food and warmth, to return next spring as certainly to their old haunts, where they can breed in cool and comfortable quarters!

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