Chaps. 51-67.

Chap. 51.—The Merops—Partridges.

No less, too, is the shrewdness displayed by those birds which make their nests upon the ground, because, from the extreme weight of their body, they are unable to fly aloft. There is a bird, known as the “merops,” [The Merops apiaster of Linnæus, or bee-eater.] which feeds its parents in their retreat: the colour of the plumage on the inside is pale, and azure without, while it is of a somewhat reddish hue at the extremity of the wings: this bird builds its nest in a hole which it digs to the depth of six feet.

Partridges [Cuvier says that the red partridge, the Tetrao rufus of Linnæus, is meant.] fortify their retreat so well with thorns and shrubs, that it is effectually protected against beasts of prey. They make a soft bed for their eggs by burying them in the dust, but do not hatch them where they are laid: that no suspicion may arise from the fact of their being seen repeatedly about the same spot, they carry them away to some other place. The females also conceal themselves from their mates, in order that they may not be delayed in the process of incubation, as the males, in consequence of the warmth of their passions, are apt to break the eggs. The males, thus deprived of the females, fall to fighting among themselves; and it is said that the one that is conquered, is treated as a female by the other. Trogus Pompeius tells us that quails and dunghill cocks sometimes do the same; and adds, that wild partridges, when newly caught, or when beaten by the others, are trodden promiscuously by the tame ones. Through the very pugnacity thus inspired by the strength of their passions, these birds are often taken, as the leader of the whole covey frequently advances to fight with the decoy-bird of the fowler; as soon as he is taken, another and then another will advance, all of which are caught in their turn. The females, again, are caught about the pairing season; for then they will come forward to quarrel with the female decoy-bird of the fowler, and so drive her away. Indeed, in no other animal is there any such susceptibility in the sexual feelings; if the female only stands opposite to the male, while the wind is blowing from that direction, she [The same wonderful story is told by Aristotle, Hist. Anim. B. v. c. 5, and by Ælian, Hist. Anim. B. xvii. c. 15.] will become impregnated; and during this time she is in a state of the greatest excitement, the beak being wide open and the tongue thrust out. The female will conceive also from the action of the air, as the male flies above her, and very often from only hearing his voice: indeed, to such a degree does passion get the better of her affection for her offspring, that although at the moment she is sitting furtively and in concealment, she will, if she perceives the female decoy-bird of the fowler approaching her mate, call him back, and summon him away from the other, and voluntarily submit to his advances.

Indeed, these birds are often carried away by such frantic madness, that they will settle, being quite blinded by fear, [“Metu.” Aristotle says, by sexual passion. The reading is probably corrupt here.] upon the very head of the fowler. If he happens to move in the direction of the nest, the female bird that is sitting will run and throw herself before his feet, pretending to be over-heavy, or else weak in the loins, and then, suddenly running or flying for a short distance before him, will fall down as though she had a wing broken, or else her feet; just as he is about to catch her, she will then take another fly, and so keep baffling him in his hopes, until she has led him to a considerable distance from her nest. As soon as she is rid of her fears, and free from all maternal disquietude, she will throw herself on her back in some furrow, and seizing a clod of earth with her claws, cover herself all over. It is supposed that the life of the partridge extends to sixteen years.

Chap. 52. (34.)—Pigeons.

Next to the partridge, it is in the pigeon that similar tendencies are to be seen in the same respect: but then, chastity is especially observed by it, and promiscuous intercourse is a thing quite unknown. Although inhabiting a domicile in common with others, they will none of them violate the laws of conjugal fidelity: not one will desert its nest, unless it is either widower or widow. Although, too, the males are very imperious, and sometimes even extremely exacting, the females put up with it: for in fact, the males sometimes suspect them of infidelity, though by nature they are incapable of it. On such occasions the throat of the male seems quite choked with indignation, and he inflicts severe blows with the beak: and then afterwards, to make some atonement, he falls to billing, and by way of pressing his amorous solicitations, sidles round and round the female with his feet. They both of them manifest an equal degree of affection for their offspring; indeed, it is not unfrequently that this is a ground for correction, in consequence of the female being too slow in going to her young. When the female is sitting, the male renders her every attention that can in any way tend to her solace and comfort. The first thing that they do is to eject from the throat some saltish earth, which they have digested, into the mouths of the young ones, in order to prepare them in due time to receive their nutriment. It is a peculiarity of the pigeon and of the turtle-dove, not to throw back the neck when drinking, but to take in the water at a long draught, just as beasts of burden do.

(35.) We read in some authors that the ring-dove lives so long as thirty years, and sometimes as much as forty, without any other inconvenience than the extreme length of the claws, which with them, in fact, is the chief mark of old age; they can be cut, however, without any danger. The voice of all these birds is similar, being composed of three notes, and then a mournful noise at the end. In winter they are silent, and they only recover their voice in the spring. Nigidius expresses it as his opinion that the ring-dove will abandon the place, if she hears her name mentioned under the roof where she is sitting on her eggs: they hatch their young just after [See B. xviii. c. 68; where he says that the summer solstice is past at the time of the incubation.] the summer solstice. Pigeons and turtle-doves live eight years.

(36.) The sparrow, on the other hand, which has an equal degree of salaciousness, is short-lived in the extreme. It is said that the male does not live beyond a year; and as a ground for this belief, it is stated that at the beginning of spring, the black marks are never to be seen upon the beak which began to appear in the summer. The females, however, are said to live somewhat longer.

Pigeons have even a certain appreciation of glory. There is reason for believing that they are well aware of the colours of their plumage, and the various shades which it presents, and even in their very mode of flying they court our applause, as they cleave the air in every direction. It is, indeed, through this spirit of ostentation that they are handed over, fast bound as it were, to the hawk; for from the noise that they make, which, in fact, is only produced by the flapping of their wings, their long feathers become twisted and disordered: otherwise, when they can fly without any impediment, they are far swifter in their movements than the hawk. The robber, lurking amid the dense foliage, keeps on the look-out for them, and seizes them at the very moment that they are indulging their vainglorious self-complaisance.

(37.) It is for this reason that it is necessary to keep along with the pigeons the bird that is known as the “tinnunculus;” [Cuvier takes this to be the kestril, or Falco tinnunculus of Linnæus, and considers it to be synonymous with the cenchris, mentioned in c. 73, and in B. xxix. c. 6, though Pliny does not seem to be aware of the identity.] as it protects them, and by its natural superiority scares away the hawk: so much so, indeed, that the hawk will vanish at the very sight of it, and the instant it hears its voice. Hence it is that the pigeons have an especial regard for this bird; and, it is said, if one of these birds is buried at each of the four corners of the pigeon-house in pots that have been newly glazed, the pigeons will not change their abode—a result which has been obtained by some by cutting a joint of their wings with an instrument of gold; for if any other were used, the wounds would be not unattended with danger.—The pigeon in general may be looked upon as a bird fond of change; they have the art, too, among themselves of gaining one another over, and so seducing their companions: hence it is that we frequently find them return attended by others which they have enticed away.

Chap. 53.—Wonderful Things Done by Them; Prices at Which They Have Been Sold.

In addition to this, pigeons have acted as messengers in affairs of importance. During the siege of Mutina, Decimus Brutus, who was in the town, sent despatches to the camp of the consuls [Hirtius and Pansa. Frontinus, B. iii. c. 13. says that pigeons were sent by Hirtius to Brutus. At the present day, letters are sent fastened under their wings.] fastened to pigeons’ feet. Of what use to Antony then were his intrenchments, and all the vigilance of the besieging army? his nets, too, which he had spread in the river, while the messenger of the besieged was cleaving the air?

Many persons have quite a mania for pigeons—building towns for them on the top of their roofs, and taking a pleasure in relating the pedigree and noble origin of each. Of this there is an ancient instance that is very remarkable; L. Axius, a Roman of the equestrian order, shortly before the Civil War of Pompeius, sold a single pair for four hundred denarii, as we learn from the writings of M. Varro. [B. iii. c. 7.] Countries even have gained renown for their pigeons; it is thought that those of Campania attain the largest size.

Chap. 54. (38.)—Different Modes of Flight and Progression in Birds.

The flight of the pigeon also leads me to consider that of other birds as well. All other animals have one determinate mode of progression, which in every kind is always the same; it is birds alone that have two modes of moving—the one on the ground, the other in the air. Some of them walk, such as the crow, for instance; some hop, as the sparrow and the blackbird; some, again, run, as the partridge and the woodhen; while others throw one foot before the other, the stork and the crane, for instance. Then again, in their flight, some birds expand their wings, and, poising themselves in the air, only move them from time to time; others move them more frequently, but then only at the extremities; while others expand them so as to expose the whole of the side. On the other hand, some fly with the greater part of the wings kept close to the side; and some, after striking the air once, others twice, make their way through it, as though pressing upon it enclosed beneath their wings; other birds dart aloft in a vertical direction, others horizontally, and others come falling straight downwards. You would almost think that some had been hurled upwards with a violent effort, and that others, again, had fallen straight down from aloft; while others are seen to spring forward in their flight. Ducks alone, and the other birds of that kind, in an instant raise themselves aloft, taking a spring from the spot where they stand straight upwards towards the heavens; and this they can do from out of the water even; hence it is that they are the only birds that can make their escape from the pitfalls which we employ for the capture of wild beasts.

The vulture and the heavier wild birds can only fly after taking a run, or else by commencing their flight from an elevated spot. They use the tail by way of rudder. There are some birds that are able to see all around them; others, again, have to turn the neck to do so. Some of them eat what they have seized, holding it in their feet. Many, as they fly, utter some cry; while on the other hand, many, in their flight, are silent. Some fly with the breast half upright, others with it held downwards, others fly obliquely, or else side-ways, and others following the direction of the bill. Some, again, are borne along with the head upwards; indeed the fact is, that if we were to see several kinds at the same moment, we should not suppose that they have to make their way in the same element.

Chap. 55. (39.)—The Birds Called Apodes, or Cypseli.

Those birds which are known as “apodes” [“Without feet.” This was supposed to be the case with the martinet, the Hirundo apus of Linnæus.] fly the most of all, because they are deprived of the use of their feet. By some persons they are called “cypseli.” They are a species of swallow which build their nests in the rocks, and are the same birds that are to be seen everywhere at sea; indeed, however far a ship may go, however long its voyage, and however great the distance from land, the apodes never cease to hover around it. Other birds settle and come to a stand, whereas these know no repose but in the nest; they are always either on the wing or else asleep.

Chap. 56. (40.)—Respecting the Food of Birds—The Caprimulgus, the Platea.

The instincts, also, of birds are no less varied, and more especially in relation to their food. “Caprimulgus” [Or “goat-sucker.” The Caprimulgus Europæus of Linnæus.] is the name of a bird, which is to all appearance a large blackbird; it thieves by night, as it cannot see during the day. It enters the folds of the shepherds, and makes straight for the udder of the she-goat, to suck the milk. Through the injury thus inflicted the udder shrivels away, and the goat that has been thus deprived of its milk, is afflicted with incipient blindness.

“Platea” [Cuvier says that this is the spoon-bill, the Platalea leucorodea of Linnæus. Some suppose it to be the bittern.] is the name of another, which pounces upon other birds when they have dived in the sea, and, seizing the head with its bill, makes them let go their prey. This bird also swallows and fills itself with shell-fish, shells and all; after the natural heat of its crop has softened them, it brings them up again, and then picking out the shells from the rest, selects the parts that are fit for food.

Chap. 57. (41.)—The Instincts of Birds—The Carduelis, the Taurus, the Anthus.

The farm-yard fowls have also a certain notion of religion; upon laying an egg they shudder all over, and then shake their feathers; after which they turn round and purify [By nestling in the dust. Throwing dust over the body was one of the ancient modes of purification.] themselves, or else hallow [“Lustrant,” “perform a lustration.” This was done by the Romans with a branch of laurel or olive, and sometimes bean-stalks were used.] themselves and their eggs with some stalk or other. (42.) The carduelis, [The linnet, probably.] which is the very smallest bird of any, will do what it is bid, not only with the voice but with the feet as well, and with the beak, which serves it instead of hands. There is one bird, found in the territory of Arelate, that imitates the lowing of oxen, from which circumstance it has received the name of “taurus.” [The “bull.” This cannot possibly be the bittern, as some have suggested, for that is a large bird.] In other respects it is of small size. Another bird, called the “anthus,” [Supposed to be the Motacilla flava of Linnæus, the spring wagtail.] imitates the neighing of the horse; upon being driven from the pasture by the approach of the horses, it will mimic their voices—and this is the method it takes of revenging itself.

Chap. 58.—Birds Which Speak—The Parrot.

But above all, there are some birds that can imitate the human voice; the parrot, for instance, which can even converse. India sends us this bird, which it calls by the name of “sittaces;” [Hence the Latin name “psittacus.” From this, Cuvier thinks that the first known among these birds to the Greeks and Romans, was the green perroquet with a ringed neck, the Psittacus Alexandri of Linnæus.] the body is green all over, only it is marked with a ring of red around the neck. It will duly salute an emperor, and pronounce the words it has heard spoken; it is rendered especially frolicsome under the influence of wine. Its head is as hard as its beak; and this, when it is being taught to talk, is beaten with a rod of iron, for otherwise it is quite insensible to blows. When it lights on the ground it falls upon its beak, and by resting upon it makes itself all the lighter for its feet, which are naturally weak.

Chap. 59.—The Pie Which Feeds on Acorns.

The magpie is much less famous for its talking qualities than the parrot, because it does not come from a distance, and yet it can speak with much more distinctness. These birds love to hear words spoken which they can utter; and not only do they learn them, but are pleased at the task; and as they con them over to themselves with the greatest care and attention, make no secret of the interest they feel. It is a well-known fact, that a magpie has died before now, when it has found itself mastered by a difficult word that it could not pronounce. Their memory, however, will fail them if they do not from time to time hear the same word repeated; and while they are trying to recollect it, they will show the most extravagant joy, if they happen to hear it. Their appearance, although there is nothing remarkable in it, is by no means plain; but they have quite sufficient beauty in their singular ability to imitate the human speech.

It is said, however, that it is only the kind [Cuvier says that this is the jay, the Corvus glandarius of Linnæus; but that they are not more apt at speaking than the other kinds.] of pie which feeds upon acorns that can be taught to speak; and that among these, those which [Cuvier remarks, that these can only be monstrosities.] have five toes on each foot can be taught with the greatest facility; but in their case even, only during the first two years of their life. The magpie has a broader tongue than is usual with most other birds; which is the case also with all the other birds that can imitate the human voice; although some individuals of almost every kind have the faculty of doing so.

Agrippina, the wife of Claudius Cæsar, had a thrush that could imitate human speech, a thing that was never known before. At the moment that I am writing this, the young Cæsars [Britannicus, the son of Claudius, and Nero, his stepson.] have a starling and some nightingales that are being taught to talk in Greek and Latin; besides which, they are studying their task the whole day, continually repeating the new words that they have learnt, and giving utterance to phrases even of considerable length. Birds are taught to talk in a retired spot, and where no other voice can be heard, so as to interfere with their lesson; a person sits by them, and continually repeats the words he wishes them to learn, while at the same time he encourages them by giving them food.

Chap. 60. (48.)—A Sedition That Arose Among the Roman People, in Consequence of a Raven Speaking.

Let us do justice, also, to the raven, whose merits have been attested not only by the sentiments of the Roman people, but by the strong expression, also, of their indignation. In the reign of Tiberius, one of a brood of ravens that had bred on the top of the temple of Castor, [In the eighth region of the city.] happened to fly into a shoemaker’s shop that stood opposite: upon which, from a feeling of religious veneration, it was looked upon as doubly recommended by the owner of the place. The bird, having been taught to speak at an early age, used every morning to fly to the Rostra, which look towards the Forum; here, addressing each by his name, it would salute Tiberius, and then the Cæsars [The nephew and son of Tiberius.] Germanicus and Drusus, after which it would proceed to greet the Roman populace as they passed, and then return to the shop: for several years it was remarkable for the constancy of its attendance. The owner of another shoemaker’s shop in the neighbourhood, in a sudden fit of anger killed the bird, enraged, as he would have had it appear, because with its ordure it had soiled some shoes of his. Upon this, there was such rage manifested by the multitude, that he was at once driven from that part of the city, and soon after put to death. The funeral, too, of the bird was celebrated with almost endless obsequies; the body was placed upon a litter carried upon the shoulders of two Æthiopians, preceded by a piper, and borne to the pile with garlands of every size and description. The pile was erected on the right-hand side of the Appian Way, at the second milestone from the City, in the field generally known as the “field of Rediculus.” [Festus says that the “fane of Rediculus was without the Porta Capena; it was so called because Hannibal, when on the march from Capua, turned back (redierit) at that spot, being alarmed at certain portentous visions.”] Thus did the rare talent of a bird appear a sufficient ground to the Roman people for honouring it with funeral obsequies, as well as for inflicting punishment on a Roman citizen; and that, too, in a city in which no such crowds had ever escorted the funeral of any one out of the whole number of its distinguished men, and where no one had been found to avenge the death of Scipio Æmilianus, [P. Cornelius Scipio Æmilianus Africanus Minor, the younger son of L. Æmilius Paulus, the conqueror of Macedonia. It is doubtful whether he died a natural death, or was privately assassinated by the partisans of the Gracchi. His wife, Cornelia, and his mother, Sempronia, were suspected by some persons.] the man who had destroyed Carthage and Numantia. This event happened in the consulship of M. Servilius and Caius Cestius, on the fifth day [th March.] before the calends of April.

At the present day also, the moment that I am writing this, there is in the city of Rome a crow which belongs to a Roman of equestrian rank, and was brought from Bætica. In the first place, it is remarkable [One would hardly think that there was anything wonderful in a crow being very black.] for its colour, which is of the deepest black, and at the same time it is able to pronounce several connected words, while it is repeatedly learning fresh ones. Recently, too, there has been a story told about Craterus, surnamed Monoceros, [The “one-horned.”] in Erizena, [Most probably in Asia Minor, and not Eriza in India.] a country of Asia, who was in the habit of hunting with the assistance of ravens, and used to carry them into the woods, perched on the tuft of his helmet and on his shoulders. The birds used to keep on the watch for game, and raise it; and by training he had brought this art to such a pitch of perfection, that even the wild ravens would attend him in a similar manner when he went out. Some authors have thought the following circumstance deserving of remembrance:—A crow that was thirsty was seen heaping stones into the urn on a monument, in which there was some rain-water which it could not reach: and so, being afraid to go down to the water, by thus accumulating the stones, it caused as much water to come within its reach as was necessary to satisfy its thirst.

Chap. 61. (44.)—The Birds of Diomedes.

Nor yet must I pass by the birds [Cuvier is inclined to think that the Anas tadorna approaches most nearly the description given here. From Ovid’s description of their hard and pointed bills and claws, it would appear that a petrel (Procellaria), or else a white heron (Ardea garzetta), is intended; but these birds, he remarks, do not make holes in the earth. Linnæus has given the name of Diomedea exulans to the albatross, a bird of the Antarctic seas, which cannot have been known to the ancients.] of Diomedes in silence. Juba calls these birds “cataractæ,” and says that they have teeth and eyes of a fiery colour, while the rest of the body is white: that they always have two chiefs, the one to lead the main body, the other to take charge of the rear; that they excavate holes with their bills, and then cover them with hurdles, which they cover again with the earth that has been thus thrown up; that it is in these places they hatch their young; that each of these holes has two outlets; that one of them looks towards the east, and that by it they go forth to feed, returning by the one which looks towards the west; and that when about to ease themselves, they always take to the wing, and fly against the wind. In one spot only throughout the whole earth are these birds to be seen, in the island, namely, which we have mentioned [B. iii. c. 29.] as famous for the tomb and shrine of Diomedes, lying over against the coast of Apulia: they bear a strong resemblance to the coot. When strangers who are barbarians arrive on that island, they pursue them with loud and clamorous cries, and only show courtesy to Greeks by birth; seeming thereby, with a wonderful discernment, to pay respect to them as the fellow-countrymen of Diomedes. Every day they fill their throats, and cover their feathers, with water, and so wash and purify the temple there. From this circumstance arises the fable [See Ovid’s Met. B. xiii.] that the companions of Diomedes were metamorphosed into these birds.

Chap. 62. (45.)—Animals That Can Learn Nothing.

We ought not to omit, while we are speaking of instincts, that among birds the swallow [Albertus Magnus says that swallows can be tamed.] is quite incapable of being taught, and among land animals the mouse; while on the other hand, the elephant does what it is ordered, the lion submits to the yoke, and the sea-calf and many kinds of fishes are capable of being tamed.

Chap. 63. (46.)—The Mode of Drinking with Birds. The Porphyrio.

Birds drink by suction; those which have a long neck taking their drink in a succession of draughts, and throwing the head back, as though they were pouring the water down the throat. The porphyrio [The Fulica porphyrio of Linnæus, the Poule sultane of Buffon.] is the only bird that seems to bite at the water as it drinks. The same bird has also other peculiarities of its own; for it will every now and then dip its food in the water, and then lift it with its foot to its bill, using it as a hand. Those that are the most esteemed are found in Commagene. They have beaks and very long legs, of a red colour.

Chap. 64. (47.)—The Hæmatopous.

There are the same characteristics in the hæmatopous [Literally, “the blood-red foot.” Cuvier says that this description may apply to the sea-pie or oyster-eater, the Hæmatopus ostralegus of Linnæus, or else the long-legged plover, the Charadrius himantopus of Linnæus, but most probably the latter, more especially if the reading here is “himantopus,” as some editions have it.] also, a bird of much smaller size, although standing as high on the legs. It is a native of Egypt, and has three toes on each foot; flies [“Muscæ,” “flies,” is a mistake of the copyists, Cuvier thinks, for “musculi,” “mussels.”] forming its principal food. If brought to Italy, it survives for a few days only.

Chap. 65.—The Food of Birds.

All the heavy birds are frugivorous; while those with a higher flight feed upon flesh only. Among the aquatic birds, the divers [More especially the Larus parasiticus, Cuvier says.] are in the habit of devouring what the other birds have disgorged.

Chap. 66.—The Pelican.

The pelican is similar in appearance to the swan, and it would be thought that there was no difference between them whatever, were it not for the fact that under the throat there is a sort of second crop, as it were. It is in this that the ever-insatiate animal stows everything away, so much so, that the capacity of this pouch is quite astonishing. After having finished its search for prey, it discharges bit by bit what it has thus stowed away, and reconveys it by a sort of ruminating process into its real stomach. The part of Gallia that lies nearest to the Northern Ocean produces this bird.

Chap. 67.—Foreign Birds: The Phalerides, the Pheasant, and the Numidicæ.

In the Hercynian Forest, in Germany, we hear of a singular [Dalechamps thinks that this story bears reference to the chatterer (the Ampelis garrulus of Linnæus), the ends of certain feathers of the wings being extended, and of a vermilion colour: but Cuvier looks upon Pliny’s account as almost nothing more than a poetical exaggeration.] kind of bird, the feathers of which shine at night like fire; the other birds there have nothing remarkable beyond the celebrity which generally attaches to objects situate at a distance.

(48.) The phalerides, [A species of duck, Cuvier thinks. from Aristophanes we learn that they were common in the markets of Athens. Cuvier suggests that it may, have been the Anas galericulata of Linnæus, the Chinese teal, which the Parthians may have received from the countries lying to the east of them.] the most esteemed of all the aquatic birds, are found at Seleucia, the city of the Parthians of that name, and in Asia as well; and again, in Colchis, there is the pheasant, [“Phasiana,” so called from the river Phasis.] a bird with two tufts of feathers like ears, which it drops and raises every now and then. The numidicæ [A variety of the guinea fowl; probably the Numida Meleagris of Linnæus.] come from Numidia, a part of Africa: all these varieties are now to be found in Italy.