312 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[J XX. 16, 1800. 



AN ARTICLE OF LUXURY. 



A LITTLE swallow, scarcely larger than a sand mar- 

 tin, finds its home among the islands washed by the 

 warm waters of the East Indian Achipelago. 



This little creature, measuring but 4 Jin. in length, 11 

 in spread of wing, and dainty in all his build, seems to 

 be hardly heavy enough to balance his ponderous scientific 

 name of Hirundo esculenta. Fortunately he is commonly 

 called by another not quite so formidable, the salaugan 

 swallow. 



His plumage, like that of all swallows, is quiet in color, 

 but its texture is extremely rich and lustrous. He has a 

 dusky brown back, a breast of pale ash color, and his forked 

 tail is prettily tipped with white. His flight is almost 

 incredible in its speed- and precision. 



These little swallows congregate in vast flocks, and 

 build their nests within dark and sombre caves, lying at 

 the base of the highest and most precipitous rocks to be 

 found in the Indian Ocean. Against these walls of rock 

 the surging waves are continually dashing, beating and 

 breaking themselves into clouds of the finest spray, in 

 the midst of which swarms of the tiny fellows seem to 

 be ever darting about. 



By fixing the eye on the surface of the water it is possible 

 to discover the holes, now flooded, now open again, which 

 form the entrance to the caverns. The birds, watching 

 their chance during the moment when the holes are bare, 

 dash into them with lightning speed, and find there a place 

 of safety wherein to build their nests, which they fasten 

 to the arched roofs of the. caves. These nests weigh 

 scarcely half an ounce; but small as they are, it is as 

 their architects that otir birds have been able to achieve 

 a world-wide fame; for they are the edible birds' nests— 

 that luxury, par excellence, of the wealthy Chinese. The 

 nests are built in two parts, one being a sort of bracket, 

 fastened upon the wall of rock and supporting the true 

 nest, which is made principally of seaweed and bits of 

 grass. The bracket is that which forms the delicate por- 

 tion of the bonne boutihe. It is built in two shapes, one 

 flat like an oyster shell, the other deeper and more spoon- 

 shaped, and is composed of a semi-transparent moss that 

 reminds one of isinglass. 



It was once thought that this gelatine-like substance 

 was produced in the bird's crop from a partial digestion 

 of seaweeds, but this is now believed to have been an 

 error. In these little birds, as in all species of the family 

 of swifts, the crop is wanting; and an examination of the 

 contents of the stomach during the period of nest build- 

 ing shows that it contains no vegetable matter. The 

 salivary glands, however, are greatly developed at this 

 time, becoming so large as to form considerable swellings 

 beneath the tongue, one upon each side. From these the 

 bird draws much of the material for its nest, while it is 

 not unlikely that certain largely -developed glands of the 

 stomach contribute their share to the work. The secre- 

 tion is of gluelike tenacity, and can be drawn directly 

 from the living birds in long threads, which soon dry in 

 the air, and correspond under the microscope in the tex- 

 ture with the substance of the bracket. 



When the swallow is making ready to begin its nest, it 

 flies again and again to that spot in the top of the cavern 

 which it has selected for its site. There it presses its bill 

 against the rock, leaving a little saliva dropped from the 

 tip of its tongue. This action it repeats from a dozen to 

 twenty times, circling off for a brief flight between each 

 visit. Finally it alights, and proceeds to spread out the 

 gluey stuff into a sort of horseshoe shape upon its rocky 

 base, adding to it all the while. The motion of the little 

 creature's body from side to side, while engaged in this 

 spreading process, drops the softer saliva over that which 

 has partially hardened, and gives rise to the undulatory 

 bands which form a distinguishing feature of the nest. 

 When finished, the structure is about the size of a goose 

 egg, of an irregular, shallow, bowl-like shape, scarcely 

 thicker than a silver spoon, and in color is white, slightly 

 tinged with red. 



The process of incubation is so brief that the little home 

 is vacated within a month, and it is never used a second 

 time. Indeed, after the brood has flown it quickly 

 dries, becomes brittle and falls to pieces, dropping upon 

 the floor of the cave. Its quality as a merchantable 

 article varies greatly, being wholly dependent upon its 

 age. If secured before the eggs are laid its value is at its 

 greatest; if it contains eggs that are unhatched it is still 

 very valuable; but should the young have been hatched 

 in it, or, still worse, should they have used it until nearly 

 ready for flight, it will be found to be discolored, soiled, 

 perhaps streaked with intermixed masses of blood, 

 feathers and dirt, and is hardly worth the trouble of 

 bringing away. 



The men whose trade it is to "pluck" the nests are 

 nearly as dexterous and surprising in the feats which 

 they perform as are the tiny birds themselves. They are 

 from a separate craft, or caste, of which the goddess 

 Loro is counted special guardian. Loro, queen of the 

 coast and ruler of the surge, is held by all in deepest 

 reverence. Her temple is upon the crest of a high rock 

 near which no mortal dwells; and none will venture to 

 pass before it without bending low, with hands uplifted 

 m humble salutation. 



The goddess is believed, like Venus, to rise from the 

 sea, whence she comes to enter her temple, which is filled 

 with couches, rich hangings and all sorts of luxuries and 

 things of beauty for her use and pleasure. On pain of 

 death no one is permitted to enter the sacred precincts of 

 this place save the priest, who is also chief of the caste of 

 "nest-pluckers." Even in his case incense must be burned 

 upon the threshold, no word may pass his lips, and he 

 remains only long enough to perform the menial services 

 of the temple. Previous to the plucking of the nests, a 

 solemn feast is held before this sacred place, in worship 

 and honor of the goddess; during whose supposed presence 

 all prostrate themselves in silent awe, with faces pressed 

 upon the ground. When ample time has elapsed for her 

 to regale herself and bless the feast, the priest gives the 

 signal that she has passed within the temple. The men 

 then rise from the ground and their feasting begins to the 

 sound of merry music, and the peaceful, swaying motions 

 of dancing girls, decked with wreaths of flowers. 



In final preparation for the gathering the nests, the 

 plucker strips himself of all clothing, save a cloth about 

 his loins. A knife, a netted bag and a torch are fast- 

 ened at his side. Then comes the peril of the descent. 

 Occasionally it is possible to accomplish this with less of 

 danger by means of rope or bamboo ladders attached to 

 the rock; but oftener the man is lowered by a rope, at 



the end of which a crossbar is lashed. Upon this bar he 

 sits, pushing himself as far as possible away from the 

 rock with a rod held in his right hand, while with his 

 left he clings tightly to the rope. In his descent of often 

 several hundred feet, the plucker's vision is confused by 

 the rapid flight of numberless swallows passing and re- 

 passing before his eyes in endless swarms, while his ears 

 are nearly deafened by the roaring of the breakers. 



At last he is opposite the salaugan hole; he gives a signal 

 and the lowering is stopped. By the aid of his rod he 

 now begins to swing himself, gradually increasing the 

 length of swing, until he judges that he may with some 

 hope of safety spring from the rope with a leap that shall 

 either carry bim into the hole, and to a footing upon 

 some projecting ledge, which he has marked, or, terrible 

 alternative, be dashed to instant destruction amid the 

 jagged rocks and tumbling waters below. 



Once safely landed inside, the plucker detaches from 

 the rock such nests as are within his reach, and then, 

 fastening the knife upon the end of his rod, he manages 

 to cut off those upon the higher points of the cave. But 

 to accomplish even this part of the task is no easy mat- 

 ter; on the contrary, the greatest skill and prudence are 

 indispensable, for the rock beneath his feet affords at 

 best but scantest standing ground, and is, moreover, 

 slippery, while phosphorescent waters are flashing below, 

 and frightened birds flit here and there, adding their 

 quota to the confusion in a gloom which is scarcely 

 broken by the dim light of the torch. He clings by his 

 spare hand, as well as his feet, to every crack and pro- 

 jection, and finally his bag is filled. 



Now he makes his way to the entrance of the hole, 

 where he has fastened a small cord, which is attached to 

 the larger rope and serves to draw it toward him. If all 

 goes well his task becomes comparatively simple, and he 

 mounts his bamboo perch with tolerable ease; but, should 

 the cord have played him false, and broken, then there 

 remains but one thing for him to do. He must leap for 

 the larger rope; leap straight out into space, over all those 

 thundering, boiling waters, through those ever-flitting 

 swarms of birds to catch, if he can, that small dangling 

 thing on which his life depends. It speaks volumes for 

 the nerve and training of these daring men that the leap 

 is usually successful. 



When he arrives, at last, in safety at the top, his glean- 

 ings are so pitifully small, his risk has been so great, that 

 the price of twice their weight in silver, which is what 

 the wealthy Chinese give for the most perfect nests, 

 seems but paltry pay. Even this, however, is denied to 

 the poor plucker. There are middlemen, and other men, 

 more than can be told, all waiting for, all getting then- 

 portion of the price, until the brave man who ha3 so 

 risked his life to procure the coveted dainty, hardly re- 

 ceives a tenth part of the money which is finally paid 

 for it. S. L. Clayes. 



EL CARPI NTERO. 



FOR the California woodpecker (Melanerpes formicio- 

 orvs bairdi), I prefer the good old Spanish name, El 

 Carpintero, the carpenter. It is a most appropriate name, 

 for a better carpenter never struck chisel into wood. He 

 does no work by measured rule, line or compas, but with 

 a true workman's eye, and with no other tools than a 

 chisel and mallet combined in one instrument he con- 

 structs his dwellings, forms his storehouse and earns his 

 daily bread. It may be that, like most others of the 

 woodpecker family, he is degenerating into a fly-catcher, 

 but he has not got nearly so far down the grade as many 

 of his congeners. True it is that he will arise from some 

 branch of his favorite oak or pine, or from a favored 

 roosting place on a fence post, and after a short flight, 

 ending in a somewhat awkward flap, capture a festive 

 fly and return to his old perch with as careless an I-told- 

 you-I-could-do-it-if-I-wanted-to air as the veriest old fly- 

 catcher of them all. And after all, are the woodpeckers 

 really degenerating into fly-catchers, or were their ances- 

 tors fly-catchers that accidentally discovered the juicy 

 succulence of the wood-boring insect, and so developed 

 into a higher form? But then again, are the Bidden 

 really a higher form than the Tyrannidm, or vice versa? 

 I give it up. 



But to return to El Carpintero and to his carpentering. 

 How did he ever discover the fact that an acorn, thrust 

 into a hole in the bark or decayed wood of a tree, would 

 after many days yield up a large, fat, white worm that 

 would gladden the heart and fill the belly of the most 

 fastidious woodpecker in all this great arboreal world ? 

 That is what I want to know. Certainly the fact was 

 duly figured out in the great unwritten past of his race. 

 It is probably inherited memory now that causes him to 

 store up the bitter nuts in safe repositories, dug with 

 much labor in the family tree, knowing that a sure re- 

 ward awaits his foresight. It is no credit to the present 

 generations to do this, but the original ancestor that 

 cyphered this problem out must have had a very high 

 forehead. 



Speaking of ancestors naturally suggests the idea of 

 the family tree. Here you have a family, every member 

 of which has a magnificent specimen of this peculiar 

 kind of tree, and yet they cannot trace their genealogy 

 back worth a cent. Although this family is so careless 

 about its genealogical record as to leave it written on 

 such perishable material as a rotten oak or pine, and 

 never to grave it in imperishable marble, granite or 

 metal, yet I have the most implicit faith in the purity 

 and blueness of its blood from a careful examination of 

 its family tree. This tree is usually an oak or pine, 

 though others are at times made use of. A large white 

 oak, however, with thick bark, and, I think, indigenous 

 to California, is the favorite. .Next to this comes the 

 Pinus sabinianm, commonly called Digger pine or nut 

 pine. In the bark of these and in the wood of their de- 

 caying branches El Carpentero displays his workmanship. 

 He there builds his home, rears his family and stores up 

 his future grub — literally and figuratively. When the 

 acorn ripens his season of active work begins. Without 

 any measuring or laying out of circles, or the taking of 

 diameters with callipers, he smoothly and artistically 

 chisels out a hole, goes after an acorn, pushes it in butt 

 end foremost, and carefully drives it home with a delib- 

 erate and workmanlike air. ts the acorn a good fit? 

 You can wager your boots it is s every time. There is no 

 laying down the acorn to enlarge the receptacle here, nor 

 the necessary choosing of a larger one to replace a mis- 

 fit. Not much! The nut that is brought just fits snugly 

 and comfortably every time, no more, no less. And so 

 El Carpintero goes on, carefully intent upon his work, 



until by the aid of his fellows every available spot upon 

 the tree is studded with the evidences of his toil, and no 

 more room is left for another acorn. 



At times, if he is working in thick, soft bark, or de- 

 cayed wood, he will dig his hole deep enough to hold two 

 acorns, and, right here, he gets fooled occasionally. Isn't 

 it Mark Twain who causes one of his characters to relate 

 a story about a California jay trying to fill an old deserted 

 miner's cabin with acorns, pushed through a knothole in 

 the board roof? Well, no matter who told it, it is a good 

 story, and our woodpecker sometimes unwittingly im- 

 itates the jay in question. In boring his hole he some- 

 times pierces through into a hollow, and he will try most 

 industriously to fill that hole with acorns. In the slang 

 of the day, he soon "tumbles to the racket," however, 

 and as acorn after acorn disappears into this mo^t unac- 

 countable hole, he becomes suspicious, and finally certain 

 that there is something- not just right about it, and pro- 

 ceeds to "block the game." How does he do this? In 

 the simplest manner possible. He simply goes and gets 

 a nut a size larger, and drives it into the hole as far as it 

 will go and leaves it there. I have never seen this fact 

 noted by any other observer, but I saw the whole per- 

 formance one afternoon when out shooting doves. 



I never shot but one dove in my life, and will never 

 knowingly shoot another, but when some of my friends 

 come along and say, "Jump into our wagon, Doc, and 

 go shooting with us this afternoon," I take my gun as an 

 excuse and go with them to enjoy an afternoon in the 

 woods and fields. On such an occasion as this I had 

 taken a seat on a fallen, moss-covered branch in the 

 shade of a large oak, when I observed El Ca rpintero at 

 work over my head. He was just driving in an acorn 

 when I first saw him, the blows of his beak attracting 

 my attention. He drove it in prettv deeply, and with 

 the last blow his head went in after it to such a depth 

 and so suddenly as to show me that the nut must have 

 dropped into the hollow of the branch on which he was 

 at work. As a Scotchman would say he "keeked" into 

 the empty hole for a moment with a comical air, and 

 then with a disappointed quee-cho, quee-cho, flew after 

 another acorn. This he did nine different times, and 

 then it was that he seemed to "get on to" the game. He 

 "keeked" into the hole several times, pushed his head in 

 as far as it would go, looked at the hole from all sides, 

 and then went off and procured a large acorn and drove 

 it about two-thirds its length into the tree, Then with 

 a seemingly triumphant quee-cho he flew to an adjacent 

 branch ana took a well-earned rest. 



Quite a large number of the birds make the family tree 

 their home, and dwell together in amity, always keeping 

 a keen lookout for the family good. When the season 

 i advances into our so-called winter, and acorns get some- 

 what scarce and hard to find, a marauding gray squirrel 

 occasionally attempts to levy tribute on El Carpentero's 

 store. It is seldom that he succeeds without attracting 

 the notice of some one of the lawful owners, and then 

 ensues a lively battle. With a loud warning cry El 

 Carpintero calls his companions, and at once flies to the 

 rescue of the jealously guarded grub. The squirrel 

 dodges the attack, in the meantime attempting to ex- 

 tract an acorn; but pretty soon he receives a jab from 

 some sharp beak that puts him to ignominious flight. 

 After the skirmish is over the birds carefully examine 

 their store, and give utterance to many an exulting quee- 

 cho at the success of their defense. 



El Carpintero is a handsome bird, with very many in- 

 teresting traits to reveal to the loving and careful ob- 

 server. He is a very kind and assiduous parent, ever 

 ready to give battle in defense of his young. He has 

 not many enemies, fortunately, outside of that needless 

 destroyer, the small boy, but now and then a dastardly, 

 thieving California jay attempts to rifle the nest. He 

 scarcely ever succeeds, as he stands in too much awe of 

 the formidable weapon carried by our friend, and of his 

 well-known disposition to use it. 



El Carpintero is accused by our naturalists of the 

 crime of apple eating. It may be so, but I do not believe 

 it. I believe him to be a strictly insectivorous bird. He 

 does attack apples, without doubt, but only to extract 

 the larvae of the codlin moth that lurk within. T do not 

 believe he ever stuck his beak into a sound apple in his 

 life, nor ever will. And now I will close this already too 

 long letter by again inquiring how did his ancestors ac- 

 quire the knowledge that by storing up a supply of acorns 

 they were storing up a future stock of grub? 

 California. Arefar. 



Notes ox the Woodrat.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 I see a short article in Forest and Stream of Dec. 19, 

 giving some interesting information concerning the 

 mound-building rat. This calls to my mind an incident 

 which occurred in April, in 1870, in Gilroy, Cal. I was 

 clearing a piece of willow land and saw several mounds, 

 such as Mr, J. C. Van Hook describes. When I first saw 

 them I did not know what they were, and for our con- 

 venience brush was piled upon them and the whole set 

 on fire. When the fire was well kindled in one of these 

 heaps I saw a small animal escape from the burning 

 mass; it seemed to be hampp-red m some way and was 

 easily overtaken and killed. On examination I found it 

 to be what was locally called therea"woodrat," and the 

 cause of her easy capture was that she was carrying two 

 young ones with her. The young had not got their" eyes 

 open. The singular part of the story is to come, i. e., the 

 manner in which the mother rat was carrying her young. 

 This rat had but two teats, and they were in the same 

 position as those of a mare. After I had knocked her in 

 the head with a stick I rolled her over and found the two 

 baby rats, each with a teat in its mouth, holding on 

 firmly, with its little body drawn up in as compact a 

 bail as it could get. This rat was about the size of a 

 large house rat, and if my memory serves me rightly, 

 she was rather lighter colored. — Watson Bishop (Kent- 

 vine, N. S.). 



An Albino Hairy Woodpecker.— We have receutly 

 received from Mr. J. Montgomery, Jr., of Owensville, 

 Ind., what appears to be an almost perfect albino hairy 

 woodpecker (Dryobaies villosm), The tail is smoky 

 gray and one or two quill3 on either wing are normal in 

 color, but except for these feathers it is everywhere pure 

 white. 



Recent Arrivals at the Philadelphia Zoological Gar- 

 den.— Purchased— Four Azara"s opossums (Didclphys azartx), two 

 badgers (Taxid-ea americana), two white-lipped peccaries {Dicotyles 

 labiatm), two Tovi parrakeets (Brotogerys tovi), one undulated 

 grass parrakeet (Melopsittacus widulatm), two grav-headed par- 

 rakeets {Agapornte ccma), two Pennant's parrakeets (Flatycercus 



