112 



HISTORY OF BIRDS. 



forward, and the weather more or less inviting. 

 From the cheerful voice of this bird the farmer 

 may be instructed in the real advancement of 

 the year. The fallibility of human calendars 

 is but too well known ; but from this bird's 

 note, the husbandman may be taught when to 

 sow his most useful seeds, and to do such work 

 as depends upon a certain temperature of the 

 air. These feathered guides come to us hea- 

 ven-taught, and point out the true commence- 

 ment of the season. 



The cuckoo, that was silent some time after 

 its appearance, begins and at first feebly, at 

 very distant intervals, to give its call, which 

 as the summer advances, improves both in its 

 frequency and loudness. This is an invitation 

 to courtship, and used only by the male, who 

 sits generally perched upon some dead tree, or 

 bare bough, and repeats his song, which he 

 loses as soon as the genial season is over. His 

 note is pleasant, though uniform; and, from 

 an association of ideas, seldom occurs to the 

 memory without reminding us of the sweets of 

 summer. Custom too has affixed a more ludi- 

 crous association to this note ; which, however, 

 we that are bachelors need be in no pain about. 

 This reproach seems to arise from this bird's 

 making use of the bed or nest of another to 

 deposit its own brood in. 



However this may be, nothing is more cer- 

 tain than that the female makes no nest of her 

 own. She repairs for that purpose to the 

 nest of some other bird, generally the water- 

 wagtail or hedge-sparrow, and having de- 

 voured the eggs of the owner, lays her own 

 in their place. She usually lays but one, 

 which is speckled, and of the size of a black- 

 bird's. This the fond foolish bird hatches 

 with great assiduity, and, when excluded, 

 finds no difference in the great ill-looking 

 changeling from her own. To supply this vo- 

 racious creature, the credulous nurse toils with 

 unusual labour, no way sensible that she is 

 feeding up an enemy to her race, and one of 

 the most destructive robbers of her future pro- 

 geny. 



It was once doubted whether these birds 

 were carnivorous; but Reaumur was at the 

 pains of breeding up several, and found that 

 they would not feed upon bread or corn ; but 

 flesh and insects were their favourite nourish- 

 ment. He found it a very difficult task to 

 teach them to peck; for he was obliged to feed 

 them a full month after they were grown as 

 big as the mother. Insects, however, seemed 

 to be their peculiar food when young ; for they 

 devoured flesh by a kind of constraint, as it 

 was always put into their mouths ; but meal- 

 worm insects they flew to, and swallowed of 

 their own accord most greedily. Indeed, their 

 gluttony is not be wondered at, when we con- 

 sitler the capacity of their stomach, which is 



enormous, and reaches from the breast-bone 

 to the vent. It is partly membranous, partly 

 muscular, and of a prodigious capacity ; yet 

 still they are not to be supposed as birds of 

 prey, for they have neither the strength nor 

 the courage. On the contrary, they are natu- 

 rally weak and fearful, as appears by their 

 flying from small birds, which every where 

 pursue them. The young birds are brown, 

 mixed with black ; and in that state they have 

 been described by some authors as old ones. 



The cuckoo, when fledged and fitted for 

 flight, follows its supposed parent but for a 

 little time ; its appetite for insect food increas- 

 ing, as it finds no great chance for a supply 

 in imitating its little instructor, it parts good 

 friends, the step-child seldom offering any 

 violence to its nurse. Nevertheless, all the 

 little birds of the grove seem to consider the 

 young cuckoo as an enemy, and revenge the 

 cause of their kind by their repeated insults. 

 They pursue it wherever it flies, and oblige it 

 to take shelter in the thickest branches of some 

 neighbouring tree. All the smaller birds form 

 the train of its pursuers; but the wryneck, in 

 particular, is found the most active in the 

 chase ; and from thence it has been called by 

 many, the cuckoo's attendant and provider. 

 But it is very far from following with a 

 friendly intention ; it only pursues as an in- 

 sulter, or a spy, to warn all its little compan- 

 ions of the cuckoo's depredations. 



Such are the manners of this bird while it 

 continues to reside, or to be seen amongst us. 

 But early, at the approach of winter, it totally 

 disappears, and its passage can be traced to no 

 other country. Some suppose that it lies hid 

 in hollow trees ; and others that it passes into 

 warmer climates. Which of these opinions is 

 true is very uncertain, as there are no facts re- 

 lated on either side that can be totally relied 



1 To support the opinion that they remain 



on. 



torpid during the winter at home, Willoughby 

 introduces the following story, which he deli- 

 vers upon the credit of another. " The ser- 

 vants of a gentleman, in the country, having 

 stocked up in one of their meadows some old, 

 dry, rotten willows thought proper, on a cer- 

 tain occasion, to carry them home. In heat- 

 ing a stove, two logs of this timber were put 

 into the furnace beneath, and fire applied as 

 usual. But soon, to the great surprise of the 

 family, was heard the voice of a cuckoo, sing- 

 ing three times from under the stove. Won- 

 dering at so extraordinary a cry in the winter 

 time, the servants ran and drew the willow 

 logs from the furnace, and in the midst of one 

 of them saw something move; wherefore, 



i It is now perfectly ascertained that the cuckoo is a 

 migratory bird. It comes to us late in spring from 

 Northern Africa or Asia Minor, and returns in July or 

 early in autumn. 



