Homes Without Hands: Being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, Classed According to Their Principle of Construction
The burrow of the Woodpecker is far too comfortable a dwelling to be neglected by the wren, who allows the Woodpecker to proceed with its labors until he thinks that the hole is large enough for his purpose, and then assaults the unfortunate burrowers, driving them off to seek another and a less disturbed locality. In one case, a pair of Woodpeckers began to make their tunnel in an apple-tree, and were driven from the spot by the house-wren. They then pitched upon a pear-tree, completed their burrow, and had laid one egg, when they were again attacked by the fiery little bird, and obliged to abandon the locality altogether.
Safe as the habitation of the Woodpecker may seem, it is in America exposed to many and strange dangers. One of the perils which environ the burrows of this bird has already been mentioned, but a worse remains to be told. The blacksnake espies the parent birds as they enter and leave their nest, presses its sombre body against the tree, glides slowly up the trunk, and enters the apartment of the Woodpecker. Eggs or young are equally acceptable to the snake, which, finding itself in a comfortable and sheltered spot, coils itself round and abandons itself to repose. “The eager schoolboy,” writes Wilson, “after hazarding his neck to reach the Woodpecker’s hole, at the triumphant moment when he thinks the nestlings his own, and strips his arm, launching it down into the cavity, and grasping what he conceives to be the callow young, starts with horror at the sight of a hideous snake, and almost drops from his giddy pinnacle, retreating down the tree with terror and precipitation.
“Several adventures of this kind have come to my knowledge, and one of them that was attended with serious consequences, where both snake and boy fell to the ground, and a broken thigh and long confinement cured the adventurer completely of his ambition for robbing woodpeckers’ nests.” The unlucky bird-nester might have saved himself a fall, had he been any thing of a naturalist. The blacksnake which is mentioned in the anecdote (Coryphodon constrictor) is as harmless as the common snake of England, though it is a fierce-looking reptile, and very irascible of temper, darting with open mouth at the hand of any one who annoys it, and making believe to bite. It is sometimes called the racer snake, on account of its swiftness.
THERE are many birds which make use of holes in trees for the deposition of their eggs, but which seldom, if ever, excavate the burrow by their own exertions. One of the best known examples of these birds is the WRY-NECK (Jynx torquilla) or EMMET-EATER, a pretty though not a gorgeously-decorated creature. In Wales it is known by the name of Gwas-y-gog, or Cuckoo’s knave, because it is said to follow the cuckoo as a servant follows a master. It is a rather elegantly-shaped bird, with plumage beautifully mottled with various shades of brown, and with a kind of low crest on the head, movable at pleasure. This bird selects for its home some hollow in a tree, sometimes taking the deserted burrow of a woodpecker, when it is fortunate enough to secure so convenient a residence. Any holes in trees, however, are used by the Wry-neck; and it is very fond of those hollowed places where a branch has been broken away, and the interior of the tree has in consequence begun to decay. In such cavities the bird makes its nest, or rather, lays its eggs, for it is quite satisfied with chips of decayed wood for a bed whereon to place its numerous white eggs; and, like all those birds which build in burrows, it cares little about an elaborate nest. It will, however, take advantage of the nest which has been made by some other bird, and has been known to deposit its eggs in the deserted habitation of a red-start.
Though a timid bird, it is never slow in defense of its home and its numerous young; and though its slight beak can inflict but very trifling damage upon ordinary foes, it often frightens away the novice who has approached its domicile, by writhing its neck, darting its head forward, ruffling its crest, and hissing like an angry viper. On account of this habit, it is known in many parts of England by the popular name of Snake-bird. The head and neck of the bird have quite a formidable aspect as they thus present themselves at the orifice of the burrow, and at a little distance the writhing neck and angry hiss give to the creature a very sanguinary character.
AMONG the semi-burrowers we may rank the STARLING (Sturnus vulgaris), as this bird invariably lays its eggs in a hollow of some kind.
Its instinct teaches it to select spots wherein it can be hidden; and the deeper the burrow, and the narrower the entrance, the better does the Starling seem to be pleased. In all kinds of places the Starling makes its home, and its pale blue eggs may be found wherever there is a hole that will contain them. Under the eaves of houses the Starling contrives to creep, and finds some retired spot where it can sit in security and tend its young. Oftentimes when it resides in towns it displays so much ingenuity in concealing the locality of its habitation, that the impatient cry of the young birds affords the first indication of a nest. Frequently it gets into pigeon-cotes, and associates quite amicably with the rightful inmates. It has a great liking for the same domicile as the jackdaw, and there is often a trial of skill between the birds, each trying to gain the disputed nesting-place.
In towers, old trees, and similar places, the jackdaws endeavor to supplant the owls, and the Starlings endeavor to extirpate the jackdaws. On the ground under such places may be seen whole heaps of sticks, dropped by the jackdaw while endeavoring to make its nest, and showing how strangely circumscribed are the reasoning powers of lower beings.
In many things the jackdaw is a wonderfully clever bird, displaying such an amount of ingenuity in its actions, that its rational capacities are evidently very great. But, however clever a bird may be, and however admirably it may adapt its actions to surrounding circumstances, it is sure to break down suddenly in an unexpected manner, and to fail in the easiest part of its task. A jackdaw, for example, will go afield in search of sticks, and will spend some time in selecting a branch that will serve its purpose. It lifts, and drops, and turns, and weighs the branch, displaying great acumen in its task, and occupying much time in making a proper selection. When it has chosen a suitable branch, it flies away to the spot it has chosen for its nest.
When taking up the branch, the jackdaw mostly carries it by the middle, because it can be easily balanced when so held. But the bird forgets that a branch held crosswise will not enter a small aperture, and accordingly it finds itself checked when endeavoring to gain admission to its domicile. It flutters about in great dismay, and tries with all its powers to force the branch into the hole; but it never thinks of the simple expedient of taking the branch by the end, and pushing it lengthwise through the entrance; and after it has wearied itself out in vain attempts, it drops the branch and goes off for another. Beneath the many nesting-places at Walton Hall may be seen a wonderful number of sticks which have been thus dropped. Mr. Waterton lately drew my attention to a rapidly-accumulating pile of dead branches, which had been dropped by a jackdaw which was making its nest in a small window in the stable front. In this favored place the birds know that they will not be injured, and so they permit their proceedings to be watched without exhibiting any shyness.
Old towers are very favorite haunts of the Starling, who builds in close proximity to the owl and jackdaw, neither of the three appearing to be disturbed by the presence of the others. In forest lands the Starling lays its eggs in old trees; and I have frequently looked into a little hole high on the trunk, and seen the eggs lying far below, out of the reach of any foe except the rat, the weasel, and the British schoolboy, with his fertile invention and ready limbs. Starlings which choose such situations are strangely indifferent to observation, and are so noisy in all their conversation, that they may be heard at a distance of several hundred yards.
One or two other British birds must be mentioned, because they lay their eggs in excavations either natural or artificial. There is the elegant little TREE CREEPER (Certhia familiaris), so well known for its delicate form, its slender and slightly-curved beak, and the great agility with which it traverses the trunks of trees. The nest of this bird is mostly placed in the hollow of some decaying tree, and is of rather more ambitious a character than is generally found with birds which lay their eggs in similar situations, being formed of moss, grass, and other soft vegetable substances, and lined with downy feathers. There are about seven or eight eggs, which are small and of a light gray, variegated with brownish dots.
THE short-bodied, stout-beaked, strong-limbed NUT-HATCH (Sitta Europæa) is another example of the semi-burrowers, inasmuch as it always chooses the hollow of a decaying tree for its nursery. The general habits of this curious little bird are very well known, and as they bear but very slightly on the principle of nesting, there is no need to mention them in this place.
The cavity which the bird selects is usually one which has but a very small entrance; and it is said that when the orifice is too large, the mother bird lessens it by kneading clay into the sides. It has already been mentioned that the wry-neck defends its nest by the simulation of offensive powers, though it is, in truth, a very harmless bird, without the means to work an injury to an enemy. The Nut-hatch defends its home with equal success, but not by the same deception; for whenever an enemy approaches too closely to the nest, out dashes the bird in a state of wild excitement, darts at the intruder, and pecks so fiercely with its powerful beak, that it can drive away any ordinary foe. The bite which the Nut-hatch can inflict is of no trifling force; for the beak is strong enough to crack the shell of any nut, and when employed on softer substances, is very apt to leave behind it a tangible mark of its powers.
The nest of the Nut-hatch is hardly deserving of the name, for it merely consists of a few dried leaves, intermingled with little bits of decaying wood.
ANOTHER of these semi-burrowing birds is the HOOPOE (Upupa epops), one of the handsomest, though not the most brilliant, of English birds. It is now very rare in this country, and, from all appearances, is unlikely to become plentiful.
The Hoopoe makes its nest in some decaying tree, and often prepares the hollow for its nest, though without intending to do so. The food of the bird consists chiefly of insects, in various stages of existence, most of which are dug by the long bill from the decayed wood wherein they burrow. The larvæ of many beetles exist in such localities, and as they are mostly fat and plump, they afford abundant nourishment to their destroyer. In dislodging these larvæ from their strong-holds, the Hoopoe not only enlarges the hollow, but flings a quantity of small chips of the spongy wood to the bottom of the cavity. The nest is made of grass, feathers, and similar materials, and in many cases is placed upon the layer of dried fragments.