124 GLIMPSES OF INDIAN BIRDS 



it first arrives in England it has plenty to say for itself. 

 " In one short season," says an anonymous writer 

 in England, " we hear its singular monotonous notes 

 at intervals through half the day. This ceases, and 

 we think no more about it, as it continues perfectly 

 mute ; not a twit or a chirp escapes to remind us 

 of its sojourn with us, except the maternal note 

 or hush of danger, which is a faint, low, protracted 

 hissing, as the female sits clinging by the side or on 

 the stump of a tree." 



The wryneck is not singular among birds in uttering 

 its note only at certain seasons of the year. Very few 

 of the song birds pour forth their melody all the year 

 round. This fact bears powerful testimony to the 

 view I have frequently enunciated as to the nature 

 of birds' song. There is nothing conversational in 

 it, nothing in the nature of language ; it is merely 

 the expression of superabundant vitality which fills 

 most birds at certain seasons of the year. 



Like very many other migrants, the wryneck does 

 not appear to be powerful on the wing. Its flight 

 has been well described as " precipitate and awkward." 



The wryneck derives its name from a curious habit 

 it has of twisting its neck as it seeks for insects on 

 a tree-trunk or mound. 



Wrynecks are very rarely seen in cages or aviaries, 

 probably because they are not songsters and because 

 their habits are not such as to render them attrac- 

 tive in an aviary. Nevertheless, wrynecks thrive in 

 captivity. Bishop Stanley records an instance of a 

 wryneck which " lived for a year and a half in a 



