Homes Without Hands: Being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, Classed According to Their Principle of Construction

Many of them construct nests which may fairly be reckoned among the pensile, and one of the prettiest among the number is that which is built by the LUNULATED HONEY-EATER (Melithreptes lunulatus). The bird is easily recognized by the white crescentic mark which runs round the back of the neck, the horns pointing upward toward the opening of the mouth, and forming a striking contrast with the black hue of the head and neck.

The nest of this bird is very like that of the Singing Honey-eater, but is mostly suspended to the thinnest twigs which grow at the summit of the enormous Eucalypti-trees. Owing to the great height at which it is placed, and the leaves which surround it, none but an experienced eye can detect it. The walls of the nest are ingeniously made of the inner rind or "liber" of the stringy-bark and other gum-trees, a material which is not unlike the "bass" with which all gardeners are so familiar. The hair of various animals is mixed with the bark, and since sheep have been introduced into Australia, the bird has always availed itself copiously of their wool, finding that it can be worked well into the nest, and serves to bind the materials firmly together. As the nest is always hung by the rim to the twigs, strength of substance is an absolute necessity, and the toughness of fibre and the felting property of the wool make it a most valuable addition to the building materials used by the bird.

For the lining of the nest, the Lunulated Honey-eater retains the materials to which it has always been accustomed, and uses the fur of the phalangists, which has the advantage of being very soft, very warm, of retaining its elasticity, and of not adhering to the claws of the inmates, as would be the case with wool.

THERE is another of these pretty birds, called the PAINTED HONEY-EATER, on account of the variety of its coloring. Its scientific name is Entomophila picta. The general color of this handsome bird is rich brown above, with the exception of a yellow patch on the base of the tail, and white, slightly spotted, below. A characteristic mark of the species is a little patch of pure white just by the ears.

This handsome species inhabits the interior of New South Wales, and does not confine itself merely to a diet of sweet juices, but feeds much on small insects. The generic title, Entomophila, is composed of two Greek words, which signify insect-lover, and is given to this bird, and several other Honey-eaters, on account of their insect-eating habits. The birds are extremely active, and devote much of their time to the pursuit of insects on the wing, in which occupation they have a great resemblance to our well-known fly-catcher. They sit on a branch, keeping a careful watch, and whenever an insect passes near, they dart into the air, catch it, and return to their post. They are generally seen in pairs, and are very playful, chasing each other merrily, and spreading their tails so as to show the white color. When on the wing, they are so like the common goldfinch that they might easily be mistaken for that bird, the patchy distribution of the color, and the white spot on the face, adding greatly to the resemblance. The nest of this bird is a beautiful example of the pensiles, and on looking at a specimen it is impossible to restrain a feeling of regret that the art of preservation as it now stands will not permit us to retain the branch and its delicate leaves in all their lovely greenery, their long, spear-like blades affording so beautiful a contrast to the dry and withered substance of which the nest is made.

I may perhaps throw out a hint to collectors of birds'-nests, that they would always increase the value of the nest by retaining as much as possible of the branch on which it was placed, as the interest greatly depends upon the precise relation which the nest bears to its locality. None, for example, can properly appreciate the extreme beauty of the nest built by the chaffinch until they see the exquisite manner in which the exterior is covered with mosses and lichens, which exactly resemble in color the bark of the branches amid which it rests. The pretty cuplike nest of the goldfinch, the domed structure of the long-tailed titmouse, the basin-shaped home of the thrush, and the clumsy structure of the rook, are all so beautifully adapted to the situation which they occupy, that to remove them from their surroundings is to deprive them of half their value.

Although the leaves can not be induced to retain their form or color, and always become crisp, and dry, and shriveled, and brown, the branches still keep their form, and, if properly managed, may be made to retain their position. The best plan for restoring the nest to its original appearance is to substitute for the dried foliage a new set of artificial leaves, which are now made so true to nature that they can scarcely be distinguished from their living models. Only, it is to be hoped that the arsenical green will not be used, not only on account of its poisonous qualities, but also of its peculiar hue, which is quite unlike that of living leaves. The life-like appearance of the bark can easily be restored by the judicious use of color, moistened wafers, and varnish.

The eggs, too, should always be made to appear in their natural hues, which in many instances are lost when the contents are removed. This is invariably the case with all of the smaller eggs where the shell is not deeply colored; and in some instances, such as the egg of the kingfisher, the swift, the dipper, and the sand-martin, the color of the egg is changed from delicate pink to chalk-white. I always renew the color of these eggs by injecting a mixture of carmine and gamboge—a single drop is sufficient for a small egg; and in order to prevent it from drying in streaks and blots, I hold it over a spirit-lamp, or before a fire, and turn it continually until it is quite dry. An unblown egg should be kept as a model whereby the color can be precisely determined; and when it is properly done, the effect is very beautiful. A pure white egg, like that of the kingfisher, is much improved by heating the shell, after the color is dry, and then injecting a little boiling wax, so as to back up the color, and restore the beautiful translucence of the unblown egg. A tiny scrap of silver-paper should then be fastened over the orifice, in order to prevent dust from entering.

To return to our Honey-eaters. The material of which the nest of the Painted Honey-eater is composed is fine fibrous roots, interwoven very artfully, but loosely, and being of so frail a structure, that much care is required to remove it without damage. It is fastened by the rim to the delicate twigs of the beautiful weeping acacia (Acacia pendula), whose long lanceolate leaves droop over and nearly cover it. It is a very small nest in proportion to the size of the bird.

STILL keeping to the same interesting family of birds, we find among the pensile builders another species of Honey-eater.

The WHITE-THROATED HONEY-EATER (Entomophila albogularis) is rather like the Painted Honey-eater, being brown above, white below, and having a yellow patch on the base of the tail. It is, however, easily distinguished from its congener by the peculiarity from which it derives its name—viz., a large patch of pure white in the front of the throat, extending as far as the eyes. The top of the head is grayish-blue, and the breast is buff.

It is a lively, active little creature, ever on the move, and delighting to flit from branch to branch, but not caring to make long flights. As it flies from one bough to another, it utters a musical little song, much like that of the goldfinch, and continues to sing for a considerable time. It detests wind, and is mostly seen in the thick bush, and loves to frequent the masses of mangroves which edge bays and creeks, because the air is comparatively still. In these places may be found its curious nest, which is about as large as a breakfast-cup, and very much of the same shape. It is made of the delicate paper-like bark of the Melaleucæ, and various vegetable fibres, with which it is ingeniously hung to the branches. The broad, thin bark causes it to be very smooth on the exterior. For the lining, the bird is not indebted to any animal or bird, but uses grass-blades, which are neatly laid, and form a soft resting-place for the eggs.

The nest is placed very low, being often found scarcely two feet from the water, in that point resembling the nest of the African weaver birds, which have already been described. It is always hung near the extremity of a branch, and invariably is so placed as to be under the protection of a spray of leaves, which act as a roof whereby the rain is thrown off.

In order that these singular Australian nests which have been described may be compared with each other at a glance, five of the most remarkable examples have been placed in the same illustration, and by comparing the description with the figures, a better idea will be obtained than if each had formed the subject of a separate illustration.

BEFORE proceeding to describe another remarkable pensile builder of Australia, I must draw the attention of the reader to a bird of our own country, which often builds a pensile nest, in some respects resembling that of the White-throated Honey-eater.

Want of space forbids me to introduce an illustration of this exquisite little creature, including a figure of its nest, which equals in beauty the home of many foreign birds. As, however, this nest is tolerably familiar, and examples can always be obtained, I have preferred to insert figures of the nests made by exotic and less known birds.

The GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN (Regulus cristatus), whose form and colors are so well known as to require no description, builds a beautifully neat little nest, thickly lined with feathers, in which the minute little nestlings can lie securely. The nest is always placed under the protection of a natural roof, a spray of leaves being a favorite spot. Almost invariably the nest is fairly suspended, and in several instances I have noticed that three branches were used for the purpose.

WE will now return to our Australian birds.

There is a genus of very small birds, called Dicæum, which is spread over many parts of the world, and finds several representatives in Australia. All are interesting birds; but as the present work only treats of birds as the architects of their nests, it is necessary to select one which builds a pensile habitation. This is the SWALLOW DICÆUM (Dicæum hirundinaceum), a bird scarcely as large as our common wren, and glowing with brilliant colors, the whole of the upper part being deep, glossy blue-black; the throat, breast, and under tail-coverts of a fiery scarlet; and the abdomen pure white. It has a very sweet though low and inward note, so faint as scarcely to be audible from the tops of the trees, but continued for a long time together.

Artificial aids to vision are required in order to watch the habits of the Dicæum, for it loves the tops of the tallest trees, where its minute body can scarcely be seen without the assistance of glasses. The Casuarinæ are favorite trees with this bird, which is fond of flitting about the branches of a parasitic plant called loranthus, which bears viscid berries. It is not precisely known whether the bird haunts the loranthus for the sake of the berries or of the insects, but as the Dicæum is one of the insect eaters, the latter supposition is probably correct.