THE CONDITION'S OF LIFE IN ANIMATED BEINGS. 



429 



live in our domestic life, those that utter human 

 speech, and those proud birds, too, the eagle and 

 the falcon, are compelled to watch long over 

 their young. The latter are condemned to dwell 

 in the nest for weeks or months, and receive 

 everything from their parents. And what par- 

 ents they are — those bold sparrows, those war- 

 blers and nightingales with their liquid trills, 

 those parrots with noisy chatter, those shrill- 

 voiced falcons ! Skillful in building their downy 

 nests, full of contrivance in gathering their ma- 

 terials, they surfer the most painful fatigue in 

 watching over their progeny ; to defend them 

 against possible attacks, they display wonderful 

 activity in seeking the food suitable for their 

 young, and devote untiring love to them. The 

 necessity of rearing their brood and laboring for 

 them brings about the lasting union of two in- 

 dividuals, a male and a female, happy in being 

 united in a feeling of mutual affection, and the 

 family is formed. The law is general. The need 

 and the satisfaction of a joint life do not extend 

 beyond one season, if in that space of time the 

 young have grown strong enough to take their 

 freedom, but they continue longer if the growth 

 of the brood is slower. If they require the aid 

 of their parents for a very considerable time, the 

 pair will continue mutually attached almost for 

 an indefinite period. Jules Verreaux, the nat- 

 uralist-traveler, who had grown particularly 

 well acquainted with the history of birds, has 

 noticed an instance of this in a species which is 

 of great interest for many reasons. Every one 

 has remarked in menageries that singular bird of 

 prey which is called indifferently the messenger, 

 the secretary, or the serpent bird. Its legs are 

 comparable in length to those of a crane or 

 stork ; it is a sort of falcon mounted on stilts. 

 It has a grave and proud walk ; a stiff tuft placed 

 behind the head and always quivering gives it a 

 look of great elegance. On account of this tuft 

 the bird was named the secretary by those who 

 saw a resemblance in it to the pen carried behind 

 the ear by people whose business is copying, and 

 called the serpent-bird by those who preferred to 

 designate a peculiarity in the habits of this dwell- 

 er in Southern Africa. 



These secretaries, very abundant in the neigh- 

 borhood of Cape Town, are protected by the in- 

 habitants on account of the services they render 

 in the colony. Near to most of the dwellings 

 there is a pair of them which fixes its eyrie on 

 the top of tall bushes, and very usually in the 

 upper part of the mimosa. As these birds are 

 constantly hunting serpents, we easily understand 



the usefulness of their high stilts. They over- 

 look the region about, and, their sight being very 

 keen, they distinguish the reptile at a distance, 

 and some precaution in the attack is necessary. 

 The secretary, therefore, on discovering his prey 

 advances prudently, and, with sparkling eye and 

 ruffled neck and throat feathers, watches the op- 

 portune moment, then springs forward with a 

 bound, and often kills its victim by a single blow 

 of the claw given with incredible force. Some- 

 times the wounded serpent rears furiously, hiss- 

 ing with rage, and springs at its enemy ; but the 

 bird, soon recovering from its hesitation, and 

 naturally courageous, opens its wings to serve as 

 a shield, avoids the attacks by quick springs, and 

 when the reptile drops to the ground tired and 

 exhausted, it comes nearer and kills it with 

 strokes from its claws. A battle of this kind 

 between a secretary and a dangerous serpent al- 

 ways leaves a strong impression on the minds of 

 those who see it. There are circumstances in 

 the life of this bird of the Cape interesting in a 

 much higher way. Its early age continues re- 

 markably long ; the young secretaries remain in 

 the nest at least six months ; they have gained 

 within a very little the size of the old birds, but 

 are still incapable of going in search of their 

 food. Their legs and their tarsi, of extraordi- 

 nary size, gain solidity very slowly, and, until 

 consolidation is complete, they could not under- 

 take the dangerous hunts to which their instinct 

 and their appetite urge them. To feed this great 

 and surprisingly voracious brood imposes on the 

 parents the duty of making incessant war upon 

 snakes, and, when tiiey grow rare in the fields, 

 of picking up lizards and even insects. The 

 need of providing for the wants of their young 

 during half the year, following the long time 

 taken in building the nest and then in hatching, 

 thus brings about a nearly indissoluble union be- 

 tween the male and female of the secretary-bird. 

 This difference between birds appears also in 

 quite as marked a way between insects — some 

 full of intelligence and so weak in the early time 

 of life that their existence would be impossible 

 without the family ; others, little gifted with in- 

 stinct and with intelligence, coming into life in 

 so advanced a state of development as to be quite 

 able to take care of themselves. In general, in- 

 sects at their birth have no need of any assist- 

 ance ; but the species of some groups quit the 

 egg in such a state of weakness that they would 

 instantly perish if they did not receive the care 

 of a mother or a nurse. These are those won- 

 derful insects, wasps, bumblebees, honey-bees, 



