Birds Useful and Birds
Harmful

Sherratt & Hughes
Publishers to the Victoria University of Manchester
Manchester: 34 Cross Street
London: 33 Soho Square, W.

BIRDS USEFUL

and

BIRDS HARMFUL

BY
OTTO HERMAN
Director of the Royal Hungarian Ornithological Bureau, Budapest

AND

J. A. OWEN
Author of the “Country Month by Month,” etc.,
and Editor of all signed “A Son of the Marshes.”


Illustrated by T. Csörgey.


MANCHESTER
At the University Press
1909

CONTENTS

Preface.

The Royal Hungarian Minister, M. Darányi, who has proved himself so thorough and so capable a Director of his country’s interests in the direction of Agriculture—amongst other handbooks issued under his orders for popular use—commissioned the well-known naturalist, M. Otto Herman, to prepare the present work, which is intended to give to landowners, farmers, fruit-growers and gardeners such a knowledge of the action, beneficial and otherwise, of birds as would prevent the mistakes which have ended in some districts in our own country, in the wholesale destruction of some very useful species.

The book is enriched by the drawings of a talented artist, M. Titus Csörgey, who, I need not say, is himself a skilled naturalist. These are so executed as to render it easy to the most casual observer to identify the various markings of the plumage as well as the mere form of the bird.

The work makes no pretence at being scientific in the ordinary sense of the word. It has been written with the view of providing a ready handbook for the farmer, the gardener, the student, and bird-lovers generally; and it embodies the result of exact data kept by correspondents of M. Herman’s department in all parts of the country; so that the observations on which its statements are grounded are the results of personal investigation and dissection.

In our country this study of the food of birds and the part they play in the economy of nature has not received the attention it demands. Yet it is one that affects the entire community. It is true that in journals here and there valuable papers on this subject have appeared, but it is felt that among the innumerable books on bird life which have been published of late years there has been a lack which this little volume may supply.

A few words as to myself and my present association with M. Herman. From my earliest childhood I have had a passionate love for birds and flowers. I remember looking with wondering delight on the velvety upturned faces of the variously tinted pansies that bordered the paths leading up to the door of a certain farmhouse where we stayed much in the summer-time, when I was just four years old,—wonder because our mother told us that God’s finger painted them and I used to think that He did it whilst we slept. Our father gave us prizes for the one who could collect the greatest number of wild flowers and knew most about the trees. In the town I collected bird pictures, nursed an occasional wounded sparrow, kept my eyes open generally, and read much of William and Mary Howitt. Then came some years of school life—the last two of these in Germany, where the study of natural history has always received more attention than has hitherto been the case with us in England, and these were followed by a few years at home on the moorlands of Staffordshire. Later I had thirteen years of wandering in different parts of the Pacific—New Zealand, Tahiti, Hawaii, California, all of which strengthened my love of out-door life; and although my scientific knowledge was small, my acquaintance with nature and my love of nature have been ever growing.

As years advanced, and I was no longer able to go so far afield, it has been a great pleasure to me to collaborate with other naturalists—more than one of these—who, with greater opportunities for the practical observation of birds have combined scientific research. I have been glad to act as henchwoman to such—and to be, as it were, the little bird that in its playful and circling way follows the flight of the greater bird in the heavens.

And as I edited—with much gain to my own knowledge—the records of observations of the working naturalist styled “A Son of the Marshes,” so I am glad also to be able to present to our English readers these chapters on the Man and the Bird, and their relative significance in the great field of agriculture.

I visited M. and Madame Herman at their home in the beautiful Hungarian valley of Lillafüred, where his summers are spent in the very heart of nature; and I learned and saw much with him there. He had lived as a boy among these mountains and valleys—his father having been the leading physician in the district. There, he had scoured the woods over which the Snake or Short-toed Eagle circled, climbed up to the Peregrine Falcon’s nest, and boated on the lovely little lake, watching the movements of the Osprey. But indeed his whole life has been devoted to the study of nature, and the fauna of his Country, and his many published writings have had a very large circulation there, as well as in Germany.

M. Herman laments the constantly decreasing number of birds in his native valley. In a spot where he once counted many a Flycatcher’s nest, only two pairs now breed. The Nightingales, formerly plentiful, have entirely forsaken this valley—the Titmice are lessening in numbers, and so on. Yet the masses show no inclination to destroy useful, insect-eating birds—although modern forestry, and gardening, which does not tolerate old trees, and the absence of sheltering hedges over the great Hungarian plains, render many birds—especially the migratory species—homeless.

Numbers of interesting species nest in and visit this valley, however. In winter that beautifully coloured, long-billed Rock-Creeper (Tichodroma muraria)—with wings rose-red above, dashed with white underneath, runs up the rock sides, as does the Tree Creeper on the tree trunks—a blithe, busy creature. This species is found in the same latitude, in rocky mountain ranges eastward, as far as Northern China. The great slanting rocky spurs, that gleam with rosy light, or pale blue, as the sun runs its daily course, this rock climber delights in. The Rock Thrush breeds in the same ridges; the Long-tailed Tit has its nest there; near the ground in the woods, are the breeding-places of the familiar Coal-Tit; where fir-trees abound it is at home. The less welcome Red-backed Shrike pursues his cruel little methods here, lessening the numbers of more useful and more attractive birds. Waterfalls abound, and among the brooks, from stone to stone, trips the merry Dipper, showing his pretty breast and red underparts—building his large house near the running water, in whose pools fine trout are in plenty.

We have rested together in a little cove on the lake at Hamar, which is overhung by luxuriant foliage; across the water, over the dense woods, floats a solitary Eagle—that seeks his quarry in the shades below. Otto Herman knew his breeding-place as a boy. Tradition says the nest is at least a hundred years old, yet each year the young are still fed there.

That Great Britain has still much to do in the direction of Bird Protection is definitely shown in a leaflet just issued (December, 1908) by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, of whose Council I have the honour to be a member. Of the 370 or 380 species placed on the list of “British birds,” scarcely 200 can now be justly termed British. I may be allowed to give you here some idea of the principal agents in this destruction of birds as set forth by our Society:—

“First, there are those who destroy for destruction’s sake; the boy who ravages the hedgerows in spring and delights in catapults, air-guns, and stones at all times; the lout with a gun; and the cockney sportsman. They are responsible for a vast amount of cruelty, especially to nesting birds and nestlings; for the killing of various home-birds and migrants, and for the senseless shooting of sea-birds and occasionally of rare visitants.

“Secondly, the bird-catcher, responsible for the decrease of all those birds sought for caging, such as Goldfinch, Linnet, Siskin, Lark, etc. This class, like the first-named, requires dealing with, chiefly because of the intolerable amount of ill-treatment involved by the methods employed in the catching, transit, and sale of wild birds. The destruction of the useful Lapwing, and of the Skylark for the table, is also a point in need of attention; and in the same category may be placed the so-called sparrow-clubs, which encourage the indiscriminate killing of many species of small birds.

“Thirdly, the gamekeeper, responsible for the extinction, or extreme rarity of most of our large birds, especially predatory species and uncommon visitors.

“Fourthly, the private collector with a craze for rare British-taken birds and eggs, or, in the case of the humbler persecutor of beautiful species, for something to put in a glass case.

“Fifthly, the trader and the feathered woman, jointly responsible for the devastation wrought among the loveliest birds of all lands.”

We have included a few useful species here, which are only visitants to our country, but which, with more protection, might remain for part of the year with us regularly.

CHAPTER I.

Useful or Harmful?

The course followed by rational bird-protection in Hungary is as follows. It starts with the idea that nature itself knows neither useful nor noxious birds, but only necessary ones, which have developed according to the laws of nature, and on the basis of their development are performing in the world of nature the work which is appropriate to their organism.

The manifold character of the work performed by birds is in harmony with the variety of these organisms.

The question of the usefulness and noxiousness of birds during the whole of the nineteenth century was treated only approximately, upon the assertions of authorities. When, later on, Congresses began to embrace the cause of bird-protection, and the question of the usefulness or noxiousness of each species assumed a rôle of the first importance, it turned out that there was no firm basis upon which to rely, in passing judgment. Eminent ornithologists were often at variance with regard to the usefulness or noxiousness of a particular species.

Where Nature is intact, the number of birds is automatically regulated in accordance with the natural development of their surroundings.

The conceptions of “useful” and “noxious” are merely human ones; and man can, by cultivation or the contrary, alter the normal conditions; and may, consequently, modify the character and habits of birds also. Agriculture on a large scale, modern forestry, the draining of territory—all these things alter the fundamental conditions of animal life, and in consequence of bird-life also; and if these modifications in respect of birds are injurious to man, it is in the interests of man to adapt them artificially for the benefit of birds; and if by cultivation man deprives useful birds of their natural nesting facilities, he ought to provide them with artificial ones. This is the principle on which Baron von Berlepsch founded his system, which was accepted and applied in Hungary, together with the modifications required by special circumstances, or such as were introduced as the result of experience.

These principles apply chiefly to those species which remain with us during summer and winter alike, and which are useful to agriculture. But the international protection of birds is important as regards those useful species that are migratory, and, as they migrate, pass through countries where—as is the case in Italy—the birds are caught en masse, and where bird-catching is carried on as a trade.

The third international Ornithological Congress, held in Paris in 1900, decided that the Governments of the various European States should be called upon to have the food of birds made the object of special investigations, and to report the result, within a space of five years. When the fourth International Congress met, however, only Hungary and Belgium were able to report on the subject.

The publications of the Hungarian Ornithological Centre are founded upon the collection of data, divided into two main groups:—1. The Migration data, so-called historical, up to 1891, and again from that to the present day. 2. Foreign data, partly taken from literature, and Special data relating to one species, from the whole area of its habitation—the Cuckoo for instance.

The investigation of the economic rôle played by the Rook (Corvus frugilegus L.), which English landowners and farmers are beginning to feel is a matter of great importance, was begun by the Central Bureau in 1893; it is still going on. According to the results hitherto attained, this bird does more good by destroying insects, and in particular the larvæ of insects living underground, than it does harm to the crops.

It is our endeavour in this little volume which we now offer to English readers, to give a faithful presentment of the good and the harm that the birds are known to do, from the agriculturist’s standpoint. But in this all depends on the attitude which the gardener and the farmer adopt towards the birds.

By throwing a single stone a lad can scare away a whole flock of rooks; and when these birds alight on a field where they do harm to grain, a man must not grudge a little labour in keeping them off; considering that the same bird that works harm at one season, will be a valuable ally at another, as well as a source of pleasure and interest.

The rook, the crow, and even the mischievous magpie, follow the plough as it turns up the brown furrows, with sharp eyes spying worms, larvæ and cockchafer grubs. Nothing escapes the attention of the bird. He picks here and there, and fills his crop with the worst enemies of the tiller of the fields—the various forms of insect life that lie dormant in the earth until the time arrives for each one to come forth and fulfil its life’s mission—much of which means injury to the fruit of man’s labour.

Starlings rise in flocks—a perfect cloud of them—to disperse, and again to assemble before settling on the pastures, where they will be busy all the day, for that part of the year when man needs their services most.

Later, in the cherry trees and among our own vines the starlings would do mischief enough. The rifled branches and stripped grape stems are a sorry sight for the owner, who finds it hard to remember that God cares even for the sparrows. He tries to drive the thieves away, but they care little for the cries of the lads set to scare them. Little do they heed the rattles, feathers, rows of sticks with lines of thread—all the various flimsy inventions are useless; a gun will disperse them for the moment, but the cloud of pilferers is soon back again, and as busy as ever. At this juncture severe measures are justified. Even the most ardent bird-lover will not be foolish enough to protect every bird at all times and seasons. Yet it is only for a short season of the year that starlings are harmful, and for the greater part they are useful, in garden, field and meadow, from early morning until late evening, protecting growing blades of grass and coming seed and roots for the farmer, with unceasing labour. This is in the early spring; later they betake themselves to the pasture lands, where, on bright sunny mornings, they walk nimbly among the browsing cattle seeking their food in the form of crane fly and daddy-long-legs, in the shadow of the patient creatures. The gadflies, too, buzz about the bodies of the beasts, lay their eggs under the hide, boring into the flesh, tormenting and maddening the helpless cattle. The Hungarian herdsman is glad when he sees the starlings settle on his wide pastures.

When the eggs have developed into maggots the birds alight on the backs of the beasts, to rid them of gadflies and batflies; and the cattle and sheep suffer their services gladly, knowing well that these good feathered friends will effectually extract their torturers without further irritation to the infested parts. A horse has been known to die from the exhaustion caused by the continuous action of parasitic creatures.

Then, as regards the owl—that bird of the night, who shuns the light of the life-giving sun; for which reason man distrusts and persecutes him. The other birds also regard him with disfavour, and mob him when he ventures forth from his holes by day, big birds and little ones, in common dislike of the uncanny creature. They know full well that this is the nocturnal disturber of woods and fields, and they resent his ways and his manners.

When the twilight is over all and the birds of day have betaken themselves to rest, then most of the owls go forth to hunt for quarry. Noiselessly they flit over the quiet meadows and fields; with those eyes which shun the light they can detect through the dimness of evening the nest where small birds are, and this they rifle. And so in that respect they are harmful. The Short-eared owl will take birds from the size of a lark to that of a plover.

On the other hand, when mice have got the upper hand in house and barn, devouring and spoiling man’s provision, then every species of owl is welcome, even he the superstitious countryman calls the Death-bird. And, again, when the weather favours that pest the field-mouse, and the voles, and they swarm in meadows, cornlands and everywhere, so that the land is full of mouse-runs; from all sides comes that gentle singing from tiny throats and the farmer is at his wits’ end to know how to be rid of the plague. Then in Hungary the mouse buzzards circle by day over the pastures and fields, making war on the gnawing little beasts; and the whole night long the owls take up the same useful work. They fill their crops, each of them, with from twenty to thirty mice, fly to their several trees to digest the meal, and you will find the pellets formed by the birds of the indigestible portions—bones and fur—in and about their nesting-holes. Harmful moths and beetles they also kill.

And so the Owls—barn, the tawny or wood-owl, the long and the short-eared—which in England are the only common species, are undoubtedly the agriculturalists’ good friends, and indeed friends of the whole human race; and many landowners now prohibit the use of the cruel pole-trap in their destruction. Richard Jefferies tells how 200 owls were taken in one pole-trap in a plantation of young fir in his time. Dr. Altum, a great mover in the cause of bird-protection, examined 210 of the wood-owl’s pellets and found in these the remains of 6 rats, 42 mice, 296 voles, 33 shrews, 48 moles, 18 birds and 48 beetles, besides a countless number of cockchafers.

And what can you find to say in favour of the Sparrow? I fancy I hear many a reader ask,—that ubiquitous bird whose impudence is everywhere proverbial. When sparrows in hosts settle down on the corn waiting to be harvested, not only filling their crops but uselessly beating the grain out of the ears, the case is bad, and it is hard then to recall all the good the same birds had done in devouring the seeds of harmful weeds, such as wild mustard, etc.—also to think of the cockchafers in the grub as well as winged—daddy-longlegs, caterpillars, turnip-moth, grubs of cabbage-moth and butterfly, and the moths of both currant and gooseberry. In towns, too, the sparrow is invaluable as a street scavenger. House-flies, those plagues indoors, maggots of fleas, eggs of cockroaches, spiders, centipedes,—all, and many other “small deer” that infest stables, poultry-yards and other precincts of our homesteads the sparrow diligently seeks for.

It is true that the common sparrows multiply too fast and their numbers must be thinned down. This, many a bird-loving landowner and farmer does in various ways. The late Lord Lilford declared the most humane way was to pull down all the nests within man’s reach. There would still be plenty left, in inaccessible places. A humane farmer, the present writer knows in Hampshire, a great wheat-grower, gives the lads round threepence a score for all the sparrows’ eggs they can bring to him. Sparrow-clubs—save the mark!—are schools for cruelty. In one Lancashire parish which I know the vicar encourages the Jackdaw, allowing it to build even in his church steeple, because wherever that bird is, sparrows become more scarce, their young suiting that bird’s palate well. Man has foolishly upset the balance of nature by destroying the natural enemies of the sparrow. Take two neighbouring estates we know in Yorkshire; on the one sparrows, blackbirds, bullfinches and other birds are remorselessly shot during the fruit season; on the other the use of the gun is forbidden. In the garden and orchard of the latter there is always a far greater allowance of fruit than in those of the former.

Only where their natural enemies have become scarce ought man to set his wits to work to compass the destruction of a species.

CHAPTER II.

The Structure of the Bird.

From this we learn that the various kinds of wings correspond to various ways of flight and that each bird works out its destiny in its own way. It is suggestive of the organisation of an army, composed of cavalry, infantry, artillery, and other divisions. These also have different kinds of functions, which are necessary both

individually and in combination, and the one cannot supply the place of the other.

So much for the wings. Now we will examine Plate IX., which shows heads and—what is the most important part of them—bills. We will take the illustrations in their proper order.

1. The bill of the Woodcock is shaped like a turner’s auger, the end greatly resembling the tip of a finger. With this the bird gropes for its food, and draws it out of the loose earth.

2. The bill of the Merganser has a hook at the point; it is toothed at the side, and is so well adapted to its purpose that no fish, however slippery, can escape.

3. The bill of the Hawfinch is conical, thick and strong, capable of cracking the hardest cherry stones.

4. The pretty Water-Wagtail has an awl-shaped bill, formed by Nature for the catching of gnats and other insects.

5. The Grey Heron has a bill which cuts like a knife. Woe to the most slippery tench if once caught within it!

6. The Curlew penetrates into the mud with its sickle shaped, slightly curved bill, and brings out of its depths the worms it feeds on.

7. The bill of the Long-tailed Tit is but a little point compared with those mentioned above, but all the same it is quite suitable for the bird, for only with such a tool could it pick the tiny insects out of the smallest cracks in the boughs.

8. The bill of the Goatsucker or Night-hawk is small, but the opening of the mouth is comparatively gigantic: it forms a yawning abyss, which, in the twilight and darkness of night, engulfs unwary insects.

9. The bill of the Woodpecker may be compared to the adze which the Carpenter uses for chipping beams of wood. It is only by means of hard blows that this bird can get at the worms which it finds in decaying wood.

10. The Duck’s bill, on the other hand, is flat toothed at the side, exactly formed for straining the food which it gets out of the water.

11. The bill of the Gull is so formed that it can easily take up food from the surface of the water. Where Gulls arrive in large flocks, they eagerly follow the plough in the fields, and are then of great benefit.

12. The bill of the Crossbill is a valuable tool, with which he is able to pick out the seeds from between the scales of the fir cones.

13. The Ortolan splits hard seeds with the arch and the notch in its beak, as it were with nut-crackers.

14. The bill of the Avocet is in shape the opposite of the Curlew,—that of the former curving upwards, of the latter downwards.

Thus we see that as with the wing, so with the bill,—each bird is furnished with the kind that is most suitable to its nature and habits.

The general law of adaptability to its purpose is also strikingly exemplified in the formation of the foot. Let us look at Plate X.

1. The foot of the Fieldlark has a spur-like nail on the back toe which is nearly straight, so that the bird can easily rest on the ground.

2. The Pheasant’s foot is just like that of the Hen; which enables it to walk and run.

3. The powerful, sharp claw of the Eagle strikes deeply into the flesh of its prey and holds it fast.

4. The Sparrow Hawk strangles and crushes with its warty toes the birds on which it preys.

5. The foot of the Owl, as well as its bill, proves that it is a bird of prey.

6. The foot of the Swift is so constructed that it can cling to walls; it cannot walk or stand.

7. The toes of the Moor-or Water-hen are provided with skin-flaps, not altogether perfect for swimming, but excellent for wading and diving.

8. The Crested Grebe excels in diving, pushing sideways with its feet.

9. The foot of the Bustard has three toes, and hard soles, which enable it to run extremely well.

10. The four toes of the Cormorant are joined together by a web; it is a good diver, can swim under water, and can also roost on trees.

11. The Wild Duck has only three toes webbed together; its foot is, therefore, specially suited for propelling the bird on the surface of the water.

12. The toes of the Avocet are only partially joined together by webs; its legs are suitable only for wading, but can be used for swimming in case of need.

The variety and suitability to their purpose of wings, bills, and legs, show us that the feathered inhabitants of a neighbourhood form a community. A society of men would not be perfect if there were only men of one calling. A variety of workers is needed in human society, with a variety of tools, with which to perform a variety of necessary work, just as various birds with a varied construction of body perform their work in the open field of Nature.

A few words as to the feathers of the bird. The perfectly developed feather consists of a quill which grows in the flesh, the stem becoming gradually thinner towards the top and having lesser feathers on either side, those on the one side of the

quill being narrower than those on the other half. The feathers overlap each other exactly and densely especially those which protect the main part of the body. At the end of the quill of the top feathers is a down which takes the place of our under-clothing, and which in the case of waterfowl prevents the water from penetrating to the body of the bird. There is also a pure down which is composed of numerous stems; this is close and thick and protects the binding together of the general plumage.

The down has its fine quill and a stem bearing the close down which in water fowls keeps the warmth of the body at an even temperature whether in or out of the water. It would be an error to suppose that the feathers grow in the skin without any order, simply close together. They are in point of fact divided into areas between which the flesh is generally covered with down, and all is arranged in a system of grouping which, the feathers being rightly placed over one and another, does not in any way interfere with the movements of the body, each movement being in perfect conformity with this feather covering. The feathered areas can be moved independently with the aid of the muscles, and this renders the cleansing of the individual feathers easy and the removing of the fatty substance, which is a matter of great importance. If we watch we see that the bird moves the feathers separately in this cleansing process, drawing them through its beak, and so removing any bits of fat and oily substances that may have collected about the fat glands.

CHAPTER III.

WORKERS ON THE GROUND.

This bird likes always to be close to the abode of man; she likes to make her nest among the rafters of some warm barn and in other farm buildings, or in church tower or belfry; in hollow trees, a cleft in wall or cliff; semi-obscure corners, those even in broad daylight. There she sits, putting herself now and again in grotesque positions, and when that facial disk is stirred she appears to be, as the children say, “pulling faces” at you. One of the most industrious of hunters, she catches far more mice than she can devour. It is true she takes the bat, who has his own insect-destroying work to do; and when she has the chance she will cause havoc in the nest of a small bird. But this is only an occasional outbreak, and it must not weigh against the general good record of this most useful species. She takes living prey, and will only touch carrion under extreme stress of hunger.

The Barn or White Owl is generally distributed throughout Great Britain. It suffered at one time most undeservedly from the ignorant prejudices of many gamekeepers, and of late years from the senseless fashion of women wearing the wings and head in their headgear—a crowning folly only perpetrated through that ignorant vanity which knows neither love nor pity.

Colonel Irby said that this Owl, which is most useful to man, can be preserved and increased by fixing an 18-gallon cask in a tree. The barrel should be placed on its side and have a hole cut in the upper part of the head for the Owls to enter; care must, however, be taken that Jackdaws do not take possession of the cask.

Our gamekeepers are beginning now to be convinced of the usefulness of the Owl, especially in view of the fact that so many young birds are taken by the Brown Rat, a favourite quarry with the Owl—not to speak of the Voles and Mice the bird devours. The late Lord Lilford told me that he had watched a nest of young Owls being fed by their parents in an old cedar tree in the rectory garden of a relative, and that on one occasion the old birds came bringing food to these seventeen times in half an hour by the clock, on that evening. There was a rickyard not far from the nest which was the Owls’ favourite hunting-ground. Mice were not plentiful there, but rats swarmed, and the pellets found under the nest were here composed almost entirely of the remains of the latter. In the South of France and in Spain this Owl is accused of drinking oil from lamps in the peasants’ houses and in the churches and chapels. The name given to it in the former country by the peasant of the Midi is Béou l’oli—bird that drinks oil. Attracted by the light of the lamps, the poor Owl perhaps has entered, once in a way, and in its fright has upset a lamp. Superstition grows on very meagre fare. This ally of the agriculturalist has been ill-repaid for his services.

Butler writes:—