58 
Yellow- billed Cuckoo 
As the bird did not see me at first, I had a good opportunity to notice 
its appearance. It was about the size of a Robin, but was more slender ; 
its long tail measured more than half the entire length of the bird. Its 
legs were short, and its small feet grasped the limb on which it sat, with 
two toes extending outward in front, and two behind, instead of the 
ordinary arrangement among perching-birds of three toes in front and one 
behind. The bird’s back and wings were olive-brown, and its underparts 
were dull whitish. The outer tail-feathers were black, 
Plumage with white tips. Its bill, which appeared to be nearly 
an inch long, was black above and yellow beneath. 
Soon the bird detected the presence of an intruder. For a few 
moments it eyed me, as the Cuckoo often will do, in a dazed kind of way, 
all the time slowly raising and lowering its long tail ; then it flew swiftly 
away and vanished through the foliage. It could not have gone very far, 
for, as I continued along the path, there came to my ears from the dis- 
tance the faint, murmuring cow , cozv, cow of the sad, mysterious bird. 
The Cuckoo always leads a secluded and seemingly mournful life. If 
we chance to see it at any time while it is with us, from May to October, it 
will most probably be observed silently slipping from the cover of one tree 
or thicket to that of another, usually alone, and frequently uttering the 
harsh guttural note from which it long ago acquired the name Rain Crow. 
I never have understood why it should be called a Crow, however. Cer- 
tainly, it does not resemble the Crows in our country, either in voice, 
appearance, or manner of life. 
The Cuckoo is often heard calling on cloudy days, or just before 
rain, and for this reason it is usually credited with the power for fore- 
telling a coming shower. It cannot sing ; but it has some notes peculiarly 
its own, which, once heard, are not easily forgotten. Tut-tut, tut-tut, 
it seems to say ; cl-uck — cl-uck, cozv, cozv, cozv. 
In Europe and western Asia there is another kind of Cuckoo. It 
is larger than our bird of that name, and, besides, is a very pretty 
singer. It is not shy, so that a great many people are acquainted with 
its habits. It was well known when the Bible was written, and you 
can find its name in the list of animals which the 
* =o s Children of Israel were forbidden to eat. Shake- 
speare, in one of his plays, tells us about the Cuckoo’s 
young, and other English poets speak of its singing. The earliest Eng- 
lish lyric poem begins in this way: 
Summer is i-cummen (coming) in, 
Lhude (loud) sings cuccu ; 
Groweth sed (seed) 
And bloweth med (mead) 
And springeth the wde (wood) nu (now) 
Sing cuccu. 
Of all the tales told of European birds, the one relating to the 
nesting-habits of the Cuckoo must reflect the least credit on the accused. 
In the spring, when the nesting-time for birds arrives, it does not build 
