402 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
recovered from the privations of winter, welcome one another 
with new songs from vigorous throats. A pretty Blue-throated 
Warbler (Blaukehlchen) peeps from the erl-bushes near the ditch, 
twitting his joyous ditty; and Turtle Doves (T'urteltauben) coo 
tenderly in the dark secrecy of the fir-trees. Flycatchers 
(Fliegenfaingen) and Willow Wrens (Laubvégel) are also there, 
and softly twitter their short strains without intermission, as if 
their songs were the best of all. And through the spring air, 
and amid all this joyous life, the mournful song of the Redbreast 
(Rothkehlchen) trembles complainingly, although, in truth, he 
himself is anything but sad. It is almost as if a sigh of 
melancholy were heard through the joyous spring voices. But 
the Golden Oriole (Goldamsel) will not suffer it; his mellow 
whistle drives away every gloomy thought: he is strongly 
assisted by friend Cuckoo (Kukuk), who, according to the 
popular belief, has again laid aside his hawk-like form and 
character, and loudly announces his arrival to everyone, especially 
warning the small songsters to be once more ready to nurse and 
feed his greedy young ones. He is also supposed to possess the 
gift of prophecy. He not only informs those who will listen to 
him how many years they have yet to live, but also whispers to 
curious maidens how long they will remain unmarried. But the 
Cuckoo is a rogue, anddeceives his listeners so often that at last 
they no longer believe in his prophecies. If the Cuckoo is 
heard after St. John’s-day it is said there will be a bad year, but 
it is supposed he brings good luck to those who hear him for the 
first time, with money in their pockets. 
Whilst we are thus engaged in listening to this varied concert, 
we are suddenly startled by a loud knocking; instinctively we 
look round, and perceive a Spotted Woodpecker (Buntspecht) 
sitting on a dry branch, and hammering it with his beak. The 
reason of this bird’s appearance, neither ornithologists nor 
foresters have yet discovered. 
Thus joy aud gladness, peace and harmony, seem to meet us 
at every turn; but alas! not so in reality. ‘Struggle for 
existence,” is the primary motto of Nature, and strife and 
destruction follow as necessary consequences. The birds of prey 
have returned from their winter-quarters in far-off Africa, and 
are beginning to disturb the peaceful life of the inhabitants of 
wood, meadow, and water. There, circling in the blue ether, 
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