172 
NATURE NOTES. 
BIRD SUPERSTITIONS. 
HE importance attached to the habits of birds is to-day 
of a different kind to that given to them in past ages. 
The nineteenth century ornithologist pays more atten- 
tion to the organs which produce the croak of a raven 
than to the prophetic properties of its sound. The ancient 
Romans, however — even when enjoying a civilization unsurpassed 
in many respects by modern nations — did not dare to commence 
any important public or private undertaking without first con- 
sulting the augurs who foretold the future from observations of 
the actions of birds. In this matter of fact age it would be 
difficult to convince some sceptical minds th^t the ultimate fate 
of the Home Rule Bill could be foretold by the initial crow of 
the door-keeper’s rooster, yet matters of equal moment were 
guided in those far-off days by things quite as trivial. With 
our better knowledge, we smile at this ancient credulity ; but 
the smile should not be too broad, for twenty centuries of pro- 
gress have not entirely freed us from kindred superstitions. 
The hoot of an owl, the screech of a night-jar, are still re- 
garded by some people as omens of evil, and the appearance of 
three crows (magpies in some districts) is a sure sign of disaster 
and death. Why three crows flying over a house should cause 
injury to the inhabitants is beyond the ken of science to dis- 
cover, but it would take the combined eloquence of the Royal 
Society to disturb the faith of some believers in such bird lore. 
To such an order of minds there may appear something un- 
canny about an owl or night-jar rushing by in the twilight on 
silent wings, and if its beat is near a churchyard, as often it is, 
the existence of the belief that the bird is an embodiment of the 
uneasy spirit of a departed mortal, is not difficult to understand. 
And, indeed, such a superstition is almost world-wide. It can 
be traced in nearly all parts of both hemispheres, down to the 
poor aborigines of Australia, who salute the native species of 
Capyimulgus as the active spirits of dead tribesmen, and even if 
starving would not dare to injure one of such birds. If the 
same preservatory effect would follow, we might well wish that 
a similar belief was universal in this country. 
The belief that swallows hibernate during the winter still 
exists in some country districts, and even more common is the 
notion that cuckoos turn into hawks as the cold weather comes 
on — an error which may be attributable to the strong resem- 
blance of the two birds when on the wing. As is well known, 
towards the middle of July the voice of the cuckoo begins to fail 
him. The first note of his familiar cry becomes hoarse, and then 
vanishes entirely. This is caused — so some say — by his inability 
to get eggs to suck, and it would doubtless surprise many skilled 
ornithologists to hear that cuckoos eat eggs, or that sucking eggs 
improves the voice of birds. 
