44 



LEAVES FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A NATURALIST. 



more numerous and healthy lot of ducklings are 

 hatched, than when the domestic duck herself sits 

 upon them. For she is apt to be fidgety, and 

 haunted, perhaps, by some notions of her origi- 

 nal free state, and of the fresh nest amid the frogs, 

 and herbage of the river-side frequently will not 

 sit close in confinement. But no bird sits closer 

 or better than the common wild duck, or brings 

 out more numerous and vigorous young. Nor 

 are there wanting instances, especially about mills 

 and farms near some running stream or lake, of 

 the domestic duck sitting as close and unweariedly 

 as the most persevering hen. In many home- 

 steads, however, which are distant from rivers or 

 brooks, the terrestrial foster-mother is preferred ; 

 and when the young ones are hatched, the moment 

 they see the pond, in they all go, to the unspeak- 

 able distress of the hen, which remains clucking 

 and crying on the edge, using every call and ges- 

 ture in her power to rescue them from the de- 

 struction which she thinks must be their portion : 

 nay, the distracted parent will in her agony some- 

 times actually take water, at the risk of her own life, 

 to preserve, as she thinks, theirs. All this time 

 the ducklings are swimming about with the utmost 

 complacency, catching flies and amusing themselves 

 in the element to which their unaided instinct has 

 led them, in spite of the indignant remonstrances 

 of their foster-mother, and the obstacles which she 

 opposes to their indomitable will. 



It was thought advisable in our poultry-yard to 

 adopt the plan of raising ducklings under a hen ; 

 but, in order to lessen the amount of suffering, 

 one particular hen was selected for this office as 

 long as she was fitted for the purpose of incuba- 

 tion. The first year was, of course, a sore trial ; 

 but experience, and that modification of reason to 

 which I have above alluded, had their effect ; and, 

 in the subsequent years, she would lead her pal- 

 mipede brood to the water, calmly see them launch 

 out on its surface, and remain quietly dusting her- 

 self on the dry, sunny bank, with the utmost un- 

 concern. She was a buff-colored hen, of the 

 Dorking breed, and more than once brought out 

 two broods of ducklings in the same year. 



Birds, in a domesticated or semi-domesticated 

 state, like other parents of a higher grade, appear 

 to derive pleasure from exhibiting their hopeful 

 offspring so as to attract observation and admiration. 



On the 10th of April last, in an early walk 

 through St. James' Park, I saw on the gravel by 

 the water's edge, on the south side, two black 

 swans, which had brought over their two newly- 

 hatched, gray, downy powder-puffs of nestlings, 

 with black bills and feet, from the island where 

 they had first seen the light, as if to show them 

 in their pride to the passers-by, of whom a little 

 crowd had collected round them, apparently to the 

 great satisfaction of the parents. To be sure, 

 they had the lake to retreat to, if any danger had 

 threatened. After standing to be admired a short 

 time, the whole party again took water and 

 rowed over to their island. In the afternoon, 

 between five and six, I saw the old birds close to 



the bank, but without their young ones. They 

 had hatched three; but the "gander," as the 

 keeper somewhat irreverently called the male 

 swan, trod on one in the nest, and killed it. I 

 say " irreverently," for, as among barn-door fowls, 

 we have a cock and a hen, we have, among swans, 

 a cob and a pen. 



April 22. A friend told me on Saturday that 

 he had seen a Swallow in Kent on the 18th. I 

 looked out to-day over the water in St. James' 

 Park, but saw none ; and I was in the Regent's 

 Park yesterday without meeting with a single hi- 

 rundo of any species. My friends, the black 

 swans, have contrived to kill another cygnet, with 

 their great splay feet, probably, and now go about 

 with one only. Very proud 'of it they seem to be. 

 By the way, it appears that the Canada geese,* 

 the ganders especially, are most destructive to the 

 nestlings of other birds during the breeding season. 

 The gander will not suffer anything to live, if it 

 can help it, in the neighborhood of its nest. Duck- 

 lings, goslings, cygnets, all fall before its violence. 

 A pair are sitting in the park, and the gander an- 

 nihilates every young bird of any other species 

 that appears on his domain, and comes within his 

 power. Great fears are now entertained for a fine 

 brood of fourteen young wild-ducks just hatched in 

 his vicinity. 



When this meets the eye of those who read 

 such trifles, nidification may be considered, with 

 few exceptions, as being over for this year. How 

 varied are the nests, from the merest rough col- 

 lection of straw and litter to the elegant elaborate 

 little domicile now before me ! 



What nice hand, 



With twenty years' apprenticeship to boot, 

 Will make me such another? 



It is the work of a goldfinch ; a labor of love 

 executed in secret. How carefully constructed, 

 with what an eye to the color of surrounding ob- 

 jects, so that there may be the least risk of dis- 

 covery ! 



The expedients to which small birds have re- 

 course to thwart detection when they are conscious 

 that they are surprised in the act of bearing mate- 

 rials for making their nests, or conveying food to 

 their young, are amusing. 



On Easter Sunday, as I was passing along the 

 foot-way that borders the National Gallery 

 (thank Punch and The Times, the Vernon collec- 

 tion is at last to be disinterred from the vault to 

 which a grateful government had consigned it) 

 I saw a sparrow fly down to the neighboring 

 hackney-carriage-stand, and pick lip a very long 

 straw, with which it flew, with some labor, to- 

 wards the building. The long, streaming straw, 

 attracted the attention of some of the pedestrians, 

 who stopped and looked at the loaded little bird, 

 which was directing its flight towards the portico 

 of the gallery ; but finding its motions watched, it 

 turned short round and pitched with its straw on 

 one of the window-sills, and the people then passed 

 on. Presently it flew again towards the portico ; 



* Anscr Canadensis ; L'Oie d cravate of the French. 



