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

The nest of this bird is almost as variable in structure as is its architect in color, its form being accommodated to the situation in which it is placed. When fastened to a tolerably stout branch, its depth is less than its diameter, and it is firmly tied in several directions to prevent the wind from upsetting it. But when it is slung to a long and slender branch, over which the wind has great power, and which is swung to a distance of fourteen or fifteen feet in a smart breeze, the nest is made of much greater depth, and is of a lighter construction. The weeping willow is a favorite tree with this bird, as the drooping leaves conceal the nest effectually, and the delicate twigs can be gathered together so as to support the entire circumference of the entrance.

Wilson remarks, in allusion to these nests, that they "exhibit not only art in the construction, but judgment in adapting their fabrications so judiciously to their particular situations. If the actions of birds proceeded, as some would have us believe, from the mere impulses of that thing called instinct, individuals of the same species would uniformly build their nests in the same manner, wherever they might happen to fix it; but it is evident, from those just mentioned, and from a thousand such circumstances, that they reason, à priori, from cause to consequence, persistently managing with a constant eye to future necessity and convenience."

The popular name of Orchard Oriole is given to this species because it is a familiar and bold bird, not in the least fearing the vicinity of man, but rather seeming to find a protection therein, and loving to build its pensile nests in orchards. As is the case with many British birds, it long had an evil reputation which it did not deserve, and was thought to devour the ripe fruit of the trees in which the nest was placed. Cultivators now know better, and are aware that, so far from being a foe, it is one of their best friends, eating vast numbers of the noxious insects which infest fruit-trees, and saving many a crop by its exertions to procure food for itself and young family.

Indeed, one of the nests has been observed to be completely overshadowed by a large bunch of apples, which had grown over the entrance, and had absorbed more than half the space through which the bird was accustomed to enter its home. Yet, although the destruction of the fruit would have been a positive convenience to the Oriole, not a single apple was touched, and the bird slid in and out of its nest as cautiously as if it were aware of the value set on the fruit, and determined not to injure it.

On the left hand of the Baltimore Oriole's nest is represented a very curious structure swaying in the wind, long, purse-like, and having the entrance near the top. This is the nest of the CRESTED CASSIQUE, or CRESTED ORIOLE (Cacicus cristatus), and the bird itself is seen clinging to the lower part of the nest.

There are several species of Cassiques, all of which are natives of tropical America, and build nests of a similar structure. The Crested Cassique is the largest of the genus, equaling the common jackdaw in size, and its nest is larger and more striking than that of any other species. It loves the tallest trees, and may be seen actively traversing the branches in search of food, pecking here and there in haste as it trips along, or passing from one tree to another with a rapid darting flight, snapping at insects as it dashes through the air. Like the preceding species, it is fond of human society, and builds its pensile nest close to the habitation of man, so that its customs can be easily watched.

The bird is a handsome creature, the greater part of the body being rich chocolate, the wings dark green, and the outer tail-feathers bright yellow, this color being displayed conspicuously as the bird flies, particularly when it makes a sharp turn in the air, and is obliged to spread its tail-feathers rapidly. The beak of this species is very remarkable, being of a green color, and extending far up the forehead. The head is adorned with a long pointed crest, from which its popular name of Crested Oriole is derived. In some favored spots these birds are quite plentiful, producing a beautiful effect, as the variegated plumage gleams among the foliage, while the bird is engaged in its active quest after food.

The nest of the Crested Cassique is of great length, and, as may be seen by the illustration, has the entrance like that of a pocket. The opening is rather small when compared with the size of the nest itself, and the bird always dives head foremost into its home, its yellow tail flashing a last golden gleam before it disappears. The nest is strongly built, and the materials are rather coarse, not in the least resembling the delicate and neatly-rounded fibres of which many of the weaver nests are made. These nests often exceed a yard in length, and, owing to their great size, are very conspicuous, as the wind sways them backward and forward from the bough.

The same may be said respecting the nests of other Cassiques, and the stay-at-home reader is often apt to wonder why the traveler does not ascend every tree on which he sees a nest, and bring it down. There are two reasons why such nests are not so common in European museums as their number would seem to promise. One reason is, that the trees are not easily climbed. Some of them run to a height of eighty or a hundred feet without a bough; others have stems of great girth and wondrous smoothness, so that to ascend them is as difficult as to climb a greased pole at a fair; others again, which do not appear to present any difficulties, have their stems beset with thorny spikes, from an inch to two inches in length, as strong as nails and as sharp as needles.

Supposing, however, that the traveler is a practiced climber, and always carries with him a rope and climbing spurs, and that by dint of the pointed spurs sticking into the tree, and the strong leather gaiters repelling the thorns, and the rope enabling him to pull himself upward, he has arrived at the branches, he still finds many an obstacle to overcome. In the first place, distances are mightily deceptive when viewed from below, and a nest which appears from the ground to be close to a certain branch, is found really to be some yards on one side, and as many above.

Most birds, especially the tropical birds, have a custom of placing their nests at the very ends of boughs, where the twigs could not sustain the weight of a monkey, much less that of a man, so that the adventurous climber finds himself scarcely nearer his object than when he stood upon the ground. Such nests can only be obtained by skillfully throwing a rope around the branch to which they are hung, drawing it up, severing it as near the nests as possible, and then lowering the whole to the earth.

Supposing, however, that he has successfully overcome his difficulties, and has been able to reach the nest, he still finds himself in a very awkward position on account of the multitudinous insects which swarm upon tropical trees, and the majority of which can either sting or bite savagely. There are many kinds of wasps, larger, fiercer, and more irritable than the little yellow and black insect which terrifies us so much in this country, and these creatures have a habit of fixing their nests among the branches, where they are concealed by the leaves, and can not be seen by the climber until he nearly strikes them with his hands.

But the very worst of all his foes are the ants and termites, which infest the trees to a wonderful degree. The ants are of various kinds. There are arboreal ants, which make their nests among the branches, and there are terrestrial ants, which make their homes under the earth, but ascend the trees in search of insects or to procure materials for their subterranean abode.

The termites, again, are found on many trees, and in some instances actually hollow out the branches, so that when the climber grasps a bough for the purpose of hauling himself up by it, the treacherous branch breaks in his hands, and pours out a flood of angry insects, all provided with means of offense, and anxious to wreak their vengeance on the enemy. Even the natives, accustomed as they are to these pests of their woods, and versed in every method of foiling them, confess themselves worsted by the ants, and are often forced to yield the point to their tiny foes.

In some cases, they attack so fiercely that the unlucky climber is perforce obliged to descend the tree with all speed, and envelop himself in smoke in order to rid himself of his adversaries; or, whenever a river flows beneath the branches, the tortured native is fain to fling himself into it, and to drown off the myriad insects who are burying their jaws, or stings, or both, in his flesh. A naturalist's labors in a tropical forest are very pleasant reading at home, but they are not quite so pleasant to perform, even setting aside the chances of fever, and snake-bites, and the certainty of being sucked by thousands of musquitoes, sand-flies, and other winged plagues.

Before leaving the American pensile birds, we must briefly notice one or two other species. The Fly-catchers of all countries are generally notable for the beauty or eccentricity of their nests, one of the oddest being that of the GREAT-CRESTED FLY-CATCHER of America, which always uses the cast slough of snakes when building its nest. The reason no one seems to know, though several opinions have been offered; one person thinking the snake-slough is peculiarly grateful to the young birds which are intended to lie upon it, and another, that the presence of the cast slough acts as a scarecrow, and frightens away obnoxious birds. One conjecture is as good as another, and both are absurdly bad.

The species which we have now to notice is the RED-EYED FLY-CATCHER (Muscicapa olivacea) popularly known as "Whip-Tom-Kelly," from its peculiar articulate cry, which is said to bear a strangely exact resemblance to the words "Tom Kelly, Whip-tom-kel-ly," and is uttered so loudly and briskly that it can be heard at a considerable distance. It inhabits a tolerably wide range of country, being found from Georgia to the St. Lawrence, and in many parts is plentiful.

The nest of the Red-eyed Fly-catcher is small and very neatly made, and, contrary to the usual custom of pensile nests, is placed near the ground, seldom at a height of more than five feet. Bushes and dwarf trees, such as dogwood or saplings, are usually chosen by the bird when it looks about for a branch wherefrom to hang its nest. A wonderful array of materials is employed by the feathered architect, which makes use of bits of hornets' nests, dried leaves, flax fibres, strips of vine bark, fragments of paper and hair, and binds all these articles firmly together with the silk produced by some caterpillars. The lining is made of fine grasses, hair, and the delicate bark of the vine.

The nest is wonderfully strong—so compact, indeed, that after it has served the purpose of its architect, it is usurped by other birds in the following year, and saves them the trouble of building entire nests of their own. Even the mammalia receive some benefit from the nest, for the field-mouse often takes possession of it, and rears its young in the pensile cradle.