UNDE

CHAPTER II.

NDER the scientific term Sylviada, or Warblers, are grouped a number of birds remarkable for the sweetness of their song. They are of slender form and delicate constitution, not being able to bear much cold. Hence in all northern climates where they are found, it is as summer visitants only. They feed, too, almost entirely on insects, being what are called soft-billed birds, unable to crack nuts, or the shells of molluscous animals; another reason, some think the principal one, why, at the approach of severe weather, when insect food naturally becomes scarce, they seek a warmer climate, where it is more plentiful. With some naturalists the genus Sylvia includes more birds than with others. Sweet, for instance, who has given the best account of these delightful songsters which we possess, especially as regards their musical powers and treatment in confinement*, takes in the Chats and Redstarts;

*This account is incorporated by Mr. Bohn in his edition of Bechstein's History of Cage and Chamber Birds,' the most full and complete work on the Breeding, Management, &c., of Feathered Pets which the press of this country has produced.

and Yarrell, in his Sylviada, has also the Robin, agreeing in this arrangement with Flemming, Jenyns, and some other British naturalists. The British species of Warblers are somewhat numerous; two of them are exceptions to the rule, and do not migrate southward on the approach of winter. All of them are birds of sober plumage, and shy, hiding habits, searching for their food chiefly under trees and bushes, and sometimes coming to the ground for the purpose; they are fond of soft, pulpy fruits, only occasionally eating the smaller kinds of seeds, the husks of which are not difficult to crack; they build neat nests (generally of a cup shape), lay five or six eggs, and commonly rear two broods in a season. They do not migrate in large flocks, like the Swallows, but in small bodies, the males preceding the females several days; they have a rapid, protracted, but more undulated flight than the birds last named.

We are astonished when we reflect on the immense distances which these apparently feeble birds must traverse in their migrations from country to country, notwithstanding all that we know of the lightness of their structure (the bones being porous, and partly filled with air), and of the strength of the pectoral and other muscles by which the flying apparatus is moved. How many thousands of times must those little wings winnow the air, traversing a broad ocean, and passing, as the birds often do, far inland to their places of repose. And how know these

feathered barks in what direction to steer for the land of sunshine and plenty, towards which they are impelled? Surely there is a Providence that watches over the life of the bird, and if so, shall man despond, and think himself uncared for, when a Divine Teacher has told him, in reference to the birds, 'Are ye not much better than they?'

THE NIGHTINGALE (Philomela luscinia). This bird, which is placed by common consent at the head of British, if not of all feathered songsters, is very plain in its plumage, which is reddish brown on the upper parts, greyish brown on the under, except the throat and belly, which are whitish. The plumage is, however, prettily marked and mottled, and the form is most elegant. In length it is

AUDUBON ON THE NIGHTINGALE.

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about six inches and three quarters; the head is ovate, of a good proportionate size, the body slender, the tail long; altogether a slim, genteel bird, of graceful motions and retired habits, having all the marks of high breeding, as we should say: and then, what a songster!

In this country the Brake Nightingale, as it is frequently called, generally arrives somewhere about the middle of April; it is first observed in the south, from whence it disperses itself over the whole of the southern and eastern counties, being found, however, only in particular localities; it does not appear to have been observed farther north than Carlisle; Macgillivray says, although supposed to have been heard in Scotland, it has never been obtained there,' and there is great reason to doubt whether it has really been heard there. In England we are not left long in doubt as to the bird's arrival, for very soon from the roadside plantation or copse, yet bare of leaves, comes that gush of rich melody, which is so unmistakable, and about which Audubon writes so enthusiastically:

With all the anxious enthusiasm of youth I resolved to judge for myself of the powers of song in birds, and to begin by studying first those of the Nightingale, the very bird which had attracted my regard in its plain brown garb and most modest mien. The part of France in which I then was proved, as I thought, remarkably well adapted for this purpose. Rambling occasionally between Rheims and the capital, during the genial season at which this distinguished songster appears there in considerable numbers, and keeping away from the main roads, I would seek all such byeways as were deeply cut beneath the surface of the country around, and especially such as were well supplied with tall and well-set hedgerows, in the neighbourhood of orchards, and almost close to the cottages of the humble tillers of the soil. In solitudes like these I was sure to meet with Philomel. Now, perched scarcely ten or fifteen feet from the ground, on some branch of a thicket, I have watched it on its first appearance, in the beginning of April, as for several days the males which I observed exhibited an appearance of lassitude and melancholy almost painful to me. Silent, still, and in a position almost erect, the Nightingale would stand, as if in a state of stupefaction, for more than an hour at a time, or until, pricked by hunger, it would fly to the ground, hop over it in a direct line, and, meeting with an insect, would seize it precisely in the manner of a Thrush. By this, reader, I would have you un

26

AUDUBON ON THE NIGHTINGALE.

derstand that, after having spied its prey, the bird stopped for an instant, quickly bent its legs, lowered its head without changing, as it were, the general position of its body, then took up the insect, and swallowed it at once, looked around, and flew to the very twig which it had a few moments previously left. On all such occasions, during those few days of lassitude, and, indeed, at almost all other periods of the stay of this species in France, the least attentive observer will see, that on its alighting on a branch to rest, a certain tremulous action of the wings takes place, whether those members droop or are in their ordinary position. After three or four days the birds evidently became more circumspect or shy, while a corresponding improvement took place in their aspect. Their motions, though not quick at any time, always seemed to me to partake of more elegance, as if produced by the knowledge that the arrival of their partners, and the season of song and love, were at hand. An attentiveness to the notes of all the passing birds about them, I thought, was very perceptible; and when it propitiously. happened that one of them was produced by a female Nightingale, the males would simultaneously fly with speed to the spot, and at once seek for the fair one, which, by the way, I should say, arrived singly, and in the same manner as the male had done some days previously. I, moreover, discovered that this species travels altogether under night, and, I believe, singly; because, on seeing these birds alight about daybreak, I never observed more than one at a time, although, on several occasions, I have seen one, two, or even three, come towards the ground within the lapse of half an hour or so, one coming after the other at the distance, as I should conceive, of from eight to sixteen miles. I am also pretty well satisfied, that in this species, as in many others, the older males and older females reach their destinations first, after which the others according to their respective strength of body.

The arrival of the Nightingale in the portions of the country of which I speak, varies by a full fortnight, according to the temperature of the season, as I have observed some of them on the 25th of March, and in other seasons not before the 5th or 10th of April. The male generally precedes the female by a few days, and the first sight of the female appears to bring forth its musical powers. During the whole period of incubation the males are in full song, and I have heard these birds sing until within a few days of their departure about the middle of August. But this may possibly have been overlooked by students of nature, who having heard the song of the Nightingale, at a very early period, were not aware that at the same moment the bird had already formed a nest, and its mate was snugly incubating..

Dr. Latham states, that, as is usual with the migratory Warblers, the male remains on the spot to which it first

NIGHTINGALE'S SONG.

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resorts, attracting the female by its song; and if by accident the female is killed, the male becomes silent for a while, resumes its song, and will continue to sing late in the autumn, till he finds another mate, in which case they will breed at a later season. But we must now let Macgillivray speak apropos of the strain of this acknowledged. queen of feathered songsters

For some days after the first arrival of the Nightingales, the birdcatchers are on the alert, as it has been found that the males which are caught before they have mated, thrive better in captivity than those obtained after the females have made their appearance. If the weather be not unfavourable, the males begin to sing presently after their selection of a locality. They continue in full song, however, only until the young are hatched; but it has been remarked, that when the female has been killed, or the young removed, the male will commence his song again, and continue it until he has obtained another mate. Although the sweet strains of the Nightingale may be heard at intervals through the day, they excite more admiration when listened to in the quiet evenings, during which they are protracted to a later hour than those of any other songster, excepting the Sedge Warbler. Most authors profess to be in raptures when describing the song of this far-famed bird; but some would detract from its alleged merits, and consider it in some respects inferior to the Mavis and Merle.' My acquaintance with this species, however, is so slight, and my capability of appreciating musical talent so feeble, that I am obliged to refer to the report on this subject of a gentleman who seems to me to possess the qualifications wanting in myself. Mr. Wood, in his 'British Song Birds,' gives the following account of it: The strains are loud, rich, mellow, silvery, and clear; and so far from being a miserabile carmen, as sung by Virgil and other classic poets, I know few songs which are its equal in sprightliness and vivacity, with the exception, however, of one part, consisting of three or four lengthened notes, beginning very piano, and gradually rising to crescendo and forte, which are certainly of a peculiarly melancholy character. The song of this bird does not equal that of the Garden Ouzel in mellowness, nor that of the Garden Thrush in loudness; but it certainly excels all others as a whole; at least all other British birds.'

Izaak Walton's eulogy is more flattering :

The Nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think that miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps so securely, should hear, as I have