Homes Without Hands: Being a Description of the Habitations of Animals, Classed According to Their Principle of Construction
Where two or three branches spread their forked boughs horizontally, a number of sticks were laid so as to form a platform about seven or eight feet in diameter. Upon this platform was erected the hut, a necessarily small edifice, consisting of sticks fastened together so as to make a conical-shaped hut, about six feet in diameter at the bottom, and barely as much in height, so that a tall man could hardly lie at full length even when occupying the very centre of it. The roof of the hut was made of grass, and the sides were wattled with the same substance. As the hut was always placed at one edge of the scaffold, the opposite edge afforded a small landing or platform, about a foot or eighteen inches in width. The only method of approaching these curious huts was by means of notches cut in the trunk of the tree, the owners not daring to trust to any less difficult means of ascent.
We now ask ourselves why the natives chose to live in such small and inconvenient dwellings, when there was ample space on the fertile ground for a village. Moselekatze was the cause. His armed hordes, with their wonderful discipline, had swept over the country, destroyed all military power, carried off the cattle, in which consists the wealth of the South African, killed many warriors, and disarmed the rest. Under these circumstances, the wild beasts began to increase in number and audacity, and the enfeebled members of the tribe were perforce obliged to abandon their ordinary mode of life, and to reside among the branches where the lions could not reach them. During the day they were tolerably safe, but at night they retired to the trees.
In one of these aerial huts Mr. Moffatt passed the night, having previously shot a rhinoceros, and put the hump into a deserted ant-hill which was used as an oven. During the night the lions came and did their best to devour the meat, the savory smell of which attracted them on all sides. Fortunately for the travelers, the oven was too hot for the lions, and although they growled and snarled over it all night, they dared not attack it, and retired in the morning. The chief food of the people who inhabit these huts consisted of locusts and roots, for their cattle were gone, they could not make fences wherein to inclose a patch of cultivated ground, the lions had driven away the smaller game, and the few weapons which had escaped Moselekatze were insufficient for the slaughter of the larger and more powerful animals.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
FEATHERED BRANCH-BUILDERS.
The Rook and its Nesting-place.—Materials and Structure of the Nest.—Some Habits of the Rook.—The Crow.—Difference between the Nest of the Rook and the Crow.—The Heron and its Mode of Nidification.—The Heronry at Walton Hall.—Rustic Ideas respecting the Heron’s Nest.—The Chaffinch.—Locality and Structure of its beautiful Nest.—Mode of obtaining Materials.—The Goldfinch and its Home.—Distinction between the Nests of the Goldfinch and Chaffinch.—The Bullfinch.—Locality and Form of its Nest.—Variability of Structure.—The Blue-eyed Yellow Warbler.—Curious Materials of its Nest.—Its remarkable Habits.—The Bald-headed Eagle.—Why so called.—Wilson and Audubon’s Account of its Nest.—The Golden Oriole and its beautiful Nest.—Mode of catching the Bird.—The Red-winged Starling, its Value and Demerits.—Its gregarious Habits.—Locality and Structure of its Nest.—The Yellow-breasted Chat and its odd Ways.—Its Courage and Affection for its Nest and Young.—Structure of its Nest.—The Ringdove and its curious Nest.—The Whitethroat.—Description of the Locality and Structure of the Nest.—Reasons for its various popular Names.—The Mocking-bird.—The Water Hen and its Nesting.—Its habit of covering the Eggs.
WE pass now to the many birds which build their nests on branches of trees or shrubs, and which may therefrom be termed AERIAL BUILDERS. A vast proportion of the feathered tribes select branches as a site for their habitation, so that only the remarkable examples will be mentioned or figured.
PERHAPS the most conspicuous of all ordinary branch-nests are those which are made by the Rooks and the Crows.
Every one has seen the nests of the former of these two birds. They are large, dark, and are placed upon the topmost boughs of the tree, so that they can be seen at a considerable distance. Their position is evidently intended as a safeguard against the attacks of various enemies, among which the bird-nesting boy is pre-eminently the most dangerous. Scarcely would the boughs endure the weight of a cat or monkey, and so slender are they in many cases that the spectator wonders how they can support the nest, with its living contents of a parent and three or four young.
The foundation of the nest is composed of sticks of various sizes and lengths, all, however, being tolerably light and dry, the Rook generally carrying up the dead branches that have been blown down by the winds of the preceding winter. These are usually interlaced among the spreading branches of a convenient spray, and thus form a rude basket-work, in which will lie the softer materials on which the eggs and young are to repose. The lining is composed almost entirely of long and delicate fibrous roots, which are intertwined, so as to make an interior basket very similar in general construction to the twig basket of the exterior, and being so independent of it that, with a little care, it can be lifted out entire.
On this soft bed are laid the eggs, which are four or five in number, and are rather variable in color, the usual tint being greenish-gray, largely spotted, mottled, and splashed with dark brown, in which a shade of green is visible. They vary in size as well as in hue, and from the same nest I have taken eggs of so different an aspect that a casual observer would probably think them to be the production of distinct birds.
The principal labors of nest-building fall on the young birds, inasmuch as the elders mostly return to the same domicile every successive season, and are seldom obliged to make an entirely new nest. The young builders are sometimes aggrieved at this distribution of labor, and try to equalize it by helping themselves to the sticks belonging to other proprietors. The general community, however, never suffer theft to be perpetrated, and are sure, in such a case, to scatter the ill-gotten materials, and force the dishonest birds to begin their labors anew.
When the young are launched upon the world and able to get their own living, the nest is used no more, but is abandoned both by parents and young, not to be again used until repaired in the spring of the following year. It is a curious point in the economy of the Rook, that when it has abandoned its temporary home, it does not choose to repose among the trees on which the nest was made. Mr. Waterton, who possesses invaluable opportunities for studying the habits of this bird, and has developed them to the utmost, makes the following remarks upon the habits of this bird:
“There is no wild bird in England so completely gregarious as the Rook, or so regular in its daily movements. The ringdoves will assemble in countless multitudes, the finches will unite in vast assemblies, and water-fowl will flock in thousands to the protected lakes during the weary months of winter, but when the returning sun spreads joy and consolation over the face of nature, these congregated numbers are dissolved, and the individuals retire in pairs to propagate their respective species. The Rook, however, remains in society the year throughout. In flocks it builds its nest, in flocks it seeks for food, and in flocks it retires to roost.
“About two miles to the eastward of this place are the woods of Nostell Priory, where from time immemorial the Rooks have retired to pass the night. I suspect, by the observations which I have been able to make on the morning and evening transit of these birds, that there is not another roosting-place for at least thirty miles to the westward of Nostell Priory. Every morning, from within a few days of the autumnal to about a week before the vernal equinox, the Rooks, in congregated thousands upon thousands, fly over the valley in a westerly direction, and return in undiminished numbers to the nest an hour or so before the night sets in.
“In their morning passage some stop here; others in other favorite places, farther and farther on; some repairing to the trees for pastime, some resorting to the fields for food, till the declining sun warns those which have gone farthest that it is time they should return. They rise in a mass, receiving additions to their numbers from every intervening place, till they reach this neighborhood in an amazing flock. Sometimes they pass on without stopping, and are joined by those which have spent the day here. At other times they make my park their place of rendezvous, and cover the ground in vast profusion, or perch upon the surrounding trees. After tarrying here for a certain time, every Rook takes wing. They linger in the air for a while, in slow revolving circles, and then they all proceed to Nostell Priory, which is their last resting-place for the night.
“In their morning and evening passage, the loftiness or lowliness of their flight seems to be regulated by the state of the weather. When it blows a hard gale of wind, they descend the valley with astonishing rapidity, and just skim over the tops of the intervening hills a few feet above the trees; but when the sky is calm and clear, they pass through the heavens at a great height, in regular and easy flight.”
This custom of the Rooks is the more curious because it is hardly possible to conceive any roosting-place which would be more acceptable to a sensible bird than the woods within the confines of Walton Hall. As has already been mentioned, the birds will occasionally rest for a while in those pleasant woods, though they ultimately take wing for the accustomed roosting-place. There is plenty of space for them; they have their choice of trees on which to settle, and the lofty wall which surrounds them insures their freedom from all disturbance.
VERY similar in general aspect to the rook, the Crow (Corvus corone) builds a nest which resembles that of the rook in outward form, but is easily distinguished by an experienced eye. The lining of the nest is made of animal instead of vegetable substances, hair and wool taking the place of fibrous roots.
Viewed from the foot of the tree, the nest of the Crow is nothing but a large and nearly shapeless bundle of sticks, but when the enterprising naturalist has climbed to the summit of the tree in which it is placed, and can look into the nest, he is always gratified by the peculiarly neat and smooth workmanship of the aerial home. The outside of the nest is rough and rugged enough, but the inner nest, which is made of rabbit’s-fur, wool, and hair, is woven into a basin-like form, beautifully smooth, soft, and elastic. On this bed repose the eggs, which are somewhat like those of the rook, but darker and greener, and more thickly spotted, though they are extremely variable in size and color, and sometimes resemble so closely those of the rook that the distinction can hardly be detected.
The Crow always builds at the tops of trees, and has a wonderful knack of choosing those which are most difficult of ascent. The nests are plentiful enough, but the proportion of eggs taken is very small in comparison. There are some nests which baffle almost any one to rob successfully. An experienced nest-hunter is always endowed with a strong head, and ought to be perfectly at his ease on the summit of the loftiest trees, even though he should be obliged to crawl in fly-fashion under a branch, to hang by one hand while he takes the eggs with the other, or to suspend himself by his legs in order to get at a nest below him. That a nest should escape a properly qualified hunter is simply impossible, but to secure the eggs is quite another matter.