THE BLUE JAY.

"This elegant bird," says Wilson, "is distinguished as a kind of beau among the feathered tenants of our woods, by the brilliancy of his dress. He possesses the mischievous disposition of the jay family, and he seems particularly fond of exercising his malignant ingenuity against the owl. No sooner has he discovered the retreat of one of these, than he summons the whole feathered fraternity to his a.s.sistance, who surround the glimmering _solitaire_, and attack him from all sides, raising such a shout as might be heard, on a still day, more than half a mile off. When, in my hunting excursions, I have pa.s.sed near this scene of tumult, I have imagined to myself that I heard the insulting party, venting their respective charges with all the virulence of a Billingsgate mob; the owl, meanwhile, returning every compliment with a broad, goggling stare. The war becomes louder and louder, and the owl, at length, forced to betake himself to flight, is followed by his whole train of persecutors, until driven beyond the boundaries of their jurisdiction."

_Anecdotes._--A gentleman in South Carolina gives an account of a blue jay, which was brought up in his family, that had all the tricks and loquacity of a parrot; pilfered every thing he could carry off, and hid them in holes and crevices; answered to his name with great sociability when called on; could articulate a number of words pretty distinctly; and when he heard an uncommon noise, or loud talking, seemed impatient to contribute his share to the general festivity, by a display of all the oratorical powers he was possessed of.

"Having caught a jay in the winter season," says Mr. Bartram, "I turned him loose in the greenhouse, and fed him with corn, the heart of which he was very fond of. The grain being ripe and hard, the bird at first found a difficulty in breaking it, as it would start from his bill when he struck it. After looking about, as if considering a moment, he picked up his grain, carried and placed it close up in a corner on the shelf, between the wall and a plant-box, where being confined on three sides, he soon effected his purpose, and continued afterwards to make use of the same practical expedient."

ORDER III.

SCANSORIae,

CLIMBING BIRDS.

THE CUCKOO.

Dr. Jenner gives us the following anecdote: "I found one day the nest of a hedge-sparrow, which contained a cuckoo's and three hedge-sparrow's eggs. The next day, I found the bird had hatched, but the nest now contained only one sparrow, and the cuckoo. What was my astonishment to observe the young cuckoo, though so newly hatched, in the act of turning out the young hedge-sparrow! The mode of accomplishing this was very curious. The little animal, with the a.s.sistance of its rump and wings, contrived to get the bird on its back, and, making a lodgment for the burden, by elevating its elbows, clambered with it to the side of the nest till it reached the top, where resting for a moment, it threw off its load with a jerk, and quite disengaged it from the nest. It remained in this situation a short time, feeling about with the extremities of its wings, as if to be convinced that the business was properly done, and then dropped into the nest again."

THE WOODp.e.c.k.e.r.

The RED-HEADED WOODp.e.c.k.e.r.--Of the woodp.e.c.k.e.r there are several species; but this is one of the best known. It is, properly speaking, a bird of pa.s.sage; though even in the Eastern States individuals are found during moderate winters, as well as in the states of New York and Pennsylvania. Notwithstanding the care which this bird takes to place its young beyond the reach of enemies, within the hollows of trees, yet there is one deadly foe, against whose depredations neither the height of the tree nor the depth of the cavity, is the least security. This is the black snake, who frequently glides up the trunk of the tree, and, like a skulking savage, enters the woodp.e.c.k.e.r's peaceful apartment, devours the eggs, or helpless young, in spite of the cries and flutterings of the parents, and, if the place is large enough, coils himself up in the spot they occupied, where he will sometimes remain several days.

The IVORY-BILLED WOODp.e.c.k.e.r.--Wilson says, "I found one of these birds while travelling in North Carolina. It was slightly wounded in the wing, and, on being caught, uttered a loudly-reiterated and most piteous note, exactly like the violent crying of a child, which terrified my horse very much. It was distressing to hear it. I carried it with me under cover to Wilmington. In pa.s.sing through the streets, its affecting cries surprised every one within hearing, especially the females, who hurried to the doors and windows with looks of anxiety and alarm. I rode on, and on arriving at the piazza of the hotel where I intended to put up, the landlord came forward, and a number of persons who happened to be there, all equally alarmed at what they heard; this was greatly increased by my asking whether he could furnish me with accommodations for myself and baby. The man looked foolish, and the others stared with astonishment. After diverting myself a few minutes at their expense, I drew out my woodp.e.c.k.e.r, and a general laugh took place. I took him up stairs, and locked him up in my room, and tied him with a string to the table. I then went out to procure him some food.

On my return, I had the mortification to find that he had entirely ruined the mahogany table, on which he had wreaked his whole vengeance.

I kept him three days, but, refusing all sustenance, he died, to my great regret."

THE PARROT.

This is a large genus of birds, consisting of two hundred species, distinguished by the peculiar structure of the bill, which a.s.sists them in climbing. They are gregarious, have generally very brilliant plumage, and inhabit warm regions.

_Anecdotes._--The gray parrot often lives to a great age. We are told by Le Vaillant of one which lived in the family of Mr. Huyser, in Amsterdam, for thirty-two years; had previously lived forty-one with that gentleman's uncle; and there can be little doubt that it was two or three years old at the time of its arrival in Europe. In the day of its vigor, it used to speak with great distinctness, repeat many sentences, fetch its master's slippers, call the servants, &c. At the age of sixty, its memory began to fail. It moulted regularly twice a year, till the age of sixty-five, when the red feathers of the tail gave place to yellow ones, after which, no other change of plumage took place. When Le Vaillant saw it, it was in a state of complete decrepitude, and, having lost its sight and memory, had lapsed into a sort of lethargic condition, and was fed at intervals with biscuit dipped in Madeira.

Leo, son of the Emperor Basilius Macedo, was accused, by a monk, of having a design upon the life of his father, and was thereupon cast into prison, from which he was freed through the instrumentality of a parrot. The emperor, upon a certain occasion, entertained some of the greatest n.o.bles of his court. They were all seated, when a parrot, which was hung up in the hall, in a mournful tone cried out, "Alas!

alas! poor Prince Leo!" It is very probable that he had frequently heard courtiers pa.s.sing, bewailing the prince's hard fortune in those terms. He frequently repeated these words, which at last so affected the courtiers that they could not eat. The emperor observed it, and entreated them to make a hearty repast; when one of them, with tears in his eyes, said, "How should we eat, sire, when we are thus reproached by this bird of our want of duty to your family? The brute animal is mindful of its lord; and we, that have reason, have neglected to supplicate your majesty in behalf of the prince, whom we all believe to be innocent, and to suffer under calumny." The emperor, moved by these words, commanded them to fetch Leo out of prison, admitted him to his presence, and restored him, first to his favor, and then to his former dignities.

Buffon says, "I have seen a parrot very ridiculously employed, belonging to a distiller who had suffered pretty severely in his circ.u.mstances from an informer that lived opposite him. This bird was taught to p.r.o.nounce the ninth commandment,--'Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,' with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The bird was generally placed in a cage over against the informer's house, and delighted the whole neighborhood with its persevering exhortations."

Some years since, a parrot in Boston, that had been taught to whistle in the manner of calling a dog, was sitting in his cage at the door of a shop. As he was exercising himself in this kind of whistle, a large dog happened to be pa.s.sing the spot; the animal, imagining that he heard the call of his master, turned suddenly about, and ran towards the cage of the parrot. At this critical moment, the bird exclaimed vehemently, "Get out, you brute!" The astonished dog hastily retreated, leaving the parrot to enjoy the joke.

ORDER IV.

GALLINACEA,

RESEMBLING THE DOMESTIC HEN.

THE c.o.c.k.

The domestic c.o.c.k is the origin of all the varieties of the domestic fowl, and is supposed to have come originally from Asia. It was brought to America by the first settlers.

_Miscellaneous Anecdotes._--A short time since, a farmer in Ohio heard loud talking and angry words among his fowls, and, being a man of pacific disposition, bent his course towards the scene of cackling and confusion. Arrived in the vicinity, he observed his favorite c.o.c.k engaged in mortal combat with a striped snake, dealing his blows with bill and spurs in quick succession, and with true pugilistic skill. But the wily serpent, well aware that, in order to beat his powerful antagonist, he must use cunning, seized him by the thigh in the rear.

Thus situated, the c.o.c.k rose on his wings, and lighted on an apple-tree, the snake keeping fast hold, and dangling down like a taglock. It then coiled its tail round a branch of the tree. The c.o.c.k tried again to escape, but, not being able to disengage himself, hung with his head down. In this melancholy situation he was found by the farmer, who instantly killed the snake, and set chanticleer at liberty.

The following is a remarkable instance of the degree to which the natural apprehension for her brood may be overcome, in the hen, by the habit of nursing ducks. A hen, who had reared three broods of ducks in three successive years, became habituated to their taking the water, and would fly to a large stone in the middle of the pond, and patiently and quietly watch her brood as they swam about it. The fourth year she hatched her own eggs, and finding that her chickens did not take to the water as the ducklings had done, she flew to the stone in the pond, and called them to her with the utmost eagerness. This recollection of the habits of her former charge, though it had taken place a year before, is strongly ill.u.s.trative of memory in a hen.

"I have just witnessed," says Count de Buffon, "a curious scene. A sparrow-hawk alighted in a populous court-yard; a young c.o.c.k, of this year's hatching, instantly darted at him, and threw him on his back. In this situation, the hawk, defending himself with his talons and his bill, intimidated the hens and turkeys, which screamed tumultuously around him. After having a little recovered himself, he rose and was taking wing; when the c.o.c.k rushed upon him a second time, upset him, and held him down so long, that he was easily caught by a person who witnessed the conflict."

THE PHEASANT.

This splendid bird was brought originally from Asia, but it is now common in Europe, especially in the parks and preserves of England, where it lives in a wild state.

_Anecdotes._--"It is not uncommon," says Warwick, "to see an old pheasant feign itself wounded, and run along the ground, fluttering and crying, before either dog or man, to draw them away from its helpless, unfledged young ones. As I was hunting with a young pointer, the dog ran on a brood of very small pheasants; the old bird cried, fluttered, and ran tumbling along just before the dog's nose, till she had drawn him to a considerable distance, when she took wing, and flew still farther off. On this the dog returned to me, near the place where the young ones were still concealed in the gra.s.s. This the old bird no sooner perceived, than she flew back again to us, settled just before the dog's nose, and, by rolling and tumbling about, drew off his attention from her young, thus preserving them a second time."

A turkey c.o.c.k, a common c.o.c.k, and a pheasant, were kept in the same farm-yard. After some time, the turkey was sent away to another farm.

After his departure, the c.o.c.k and pheasant had a quarrel; the c.o.c.k beat, and the pheasant disappeared. In a few days he returned, accompanied by the turkey; the two allies together fell upon the unfortunate c.o.c.k, and killed him.

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

This bird is called _pheasant_ at the south, and _partridge_ in the Eastern States.

The following incident in relation to it is extracted from the "Cabinet of Natural History:" "I once started a hen pheasant with a single young one, seemingly only a few days old; there might have been more, but I perceived only this one. The mother fluttered before me for a moment; but, suddenly darting towards the young one, she seized it in her bill, and flew off along the surface through the woods, with great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond my sight. I made a very active and close search for others, but did not find any."

THE PIGEON.

This genus includes a great variety of doves and pigeons, all of which are remarkable for their tenderness and constancy.

The Pa.s.sENGER PIGEON.--Audubon gives us the following description of a forest in Ohio, which was the resort of the pa.s.senger pigeon: "Every thing proved to me that the number of birds resorting to this place must be immense beyond conception. As the period of their arrival approached, a great number of persons collected, and prepared to receive them. Some were furnished with iron pots, containing brimstone; others with torches of pine-knots; many with poles, and the rest with guns. Two farmers had driven upwards of two hundred hogs more than a hundred miles, to be fattened upon the devoted pigeons! The sun was lost to our view, yet not a pigeon had arrived. Every thing was ready, and all eyes were gazing on the clear sky, when suddenly there burst forth a general cry of 'Here they come!' The noise that they made, though far distant, reminded me of a hard gale at sea through the rigging of a close-reefed vessel. As the birds arrived, and pa.s.sed over me, I felt a current of air that surprised me. Thousands were soon knocked down by the pole-men. The birds continued to pour in. The fires were lighted, and a magnificent as well as terrifying sight presented itself. Pigeons, arriving in thousands, alighted every where, one over another, until solid ma.s.ses as large as hogsheads were formed on the branches all around. It was a scene of uproar and confusion. I found it quite useless to speak, or even to shout, to those persons nearest to me. This uproar continued all night. Towards day the pigeons began to move off, and at sunrise, all that could fly had disappeared: the dead and the dying were then picked up and piled in heaps, while the hogs were let loose to feed on the remainder."

MUSICAL PIGEON.--Bertoni, a famous instructor in music, while residing in Venice, took a pigeon for his companion, and, being very fond of birds, made a great pet of it. The pigeon, by being constantly in his master's company, obtained so perfect an ear for music, that no one who saw his behavior could doubt for a moment the pleasure it took in hearing his master play and sing.

CARRIER PIGEON.--Some years ago, two persons arrived in London, from Antwerp, with 110 pigeons, to be thrown off there for the purpose of ascertaining whether they would find their way back, and if so, in what time they would perform the journey. The pigeons were contained in eight enclosures, constructed of wire and canva.s.s, and capable of admitting a sufficiency of air to the birds, and at the top of each was a trap door of tin. The baskets were all placed side by side, and at a given signal, on Monday morning at eight o'clock, the doors were all lifted up, and out rushed all the pigeons at the same instant. They rose in a flock, and bent their way immediately in the direction of home. The men set off on foot shortly after, with certificates of the hour of departure. Most of the pigeons reached Antwerp the same day, the swiftest bird having arrived there in five hours and a half: the distance he flew was 186 miles!

ORDER V.