British birds

Head, neck, throat, breast, and a portion of the outer tail-feathers white; back, wings, and six middle feathers of the tail black; a black streak above the eye; sides of the back and scapulars tinged with rosy red; under parts reddish white. Tail very long; beak very short. Length, five inches and three-quarters.

The long-tailed tit is the least of the titmice, and is only saved from being described as the smallest British bird on account of its loose plumage and long tail, which make it look a trifle more bulky than the golden-crested wren. In many of its habits, and to some extent in its appearance, it resembles the typical tits, the five species of the genus Parus which remain to be described, and is often seen associating with them in winter. In its colouring, language, and nesting habits it differs from them. It is a somewhat singular-looking little bird, with grey and rose-coloured plumage, short wings, a very long tail, and a short, conical beak, which gives the round head something of a parrot-like appearance.

This species is found throughout Great Britain and Ireland, but is less common in Scotland than in England. It inhabits woods and plantations, and, like the other tits, is social, active, and restless in its habits. After the breeding season the old and young birds remain united, and spend the autumn and winter months in perpetually wandering through the woods; but their travels do not take them far from home. They are seen in a scattered party, each member of which appears wholly occupied with his own search for minute insects and their eggs and larvæ, but is ready at a given signal to abandon his food-getting and join the others in their hurried flight to the next tree. And as they pass from tree to tree their short wings and long tails give them, as Knapp said, the appearance of a flight of arrows. Leaving the woods, they roam over the surrounding country, making their way by short stages from tree to tree and from bush to bush, along lanes and hedges, and visiting the clumps of trees in parks and pasture-lands. They also come about houses, not for the crumbs that fall from the table, but to continue in gardens and shrubberies their endless search for minute insects. Very restless and anxious little hearts are theirs, one would imagine, from their incessant hurried flittings from place to place, and the small, querulous sounds in which they converse together.

At night they roost huddled together in a cluster composed, in some cases, of half a dozen or eight birds in a row, with three or four others perched on their backs, and one or two more resting on these.

Early in spring these curious little companies break up, and the song or love-call of the male bird, so unlike that of the other tits, may be heard—a prolonged trill, low and aërial, and very delicate in sound. The nest is placed on a tree or bush, and is long in building, and a marvel of bird architecture. It is domed, oval in shape, with a small aperture near the top, and is composed of moss, lichens, and hair closely felted, and the interior thickly lined with feathers. Macgillivray says that the feathers taken from one nest numbered 2,379. Six to eleven eggs are laid, sometimes a larger number. They are pure white or pearly grey in ground-colour, thinly spotted with light red and a few faint purple marks.

The continental form of the long-tailed tit, Acredula caudata, differs from A. rosea in wanting the dark stripe on the head; specimens without the stripe are sometimes met with in this country, but whether or no they are visitors from the Continent is not known.

Great Titmouse.
Parus major.

Head, throat, and a band passing down the centre of the breast black; back olive-green; cheeks and a spot on the nape white; breast and belly yellow. Length, six inches.

The great tit, or oxeye, is a resident species throughout the British Islands, and inhabits woods and plantations, and is also seen in orchards, gardens, and shrubberies. He is nowhere abundant, yet very well known, being one of those species it would be difficult for even the least observant person to overlook. He has a comparatively gay plumage, and the various colours are disposed and contrasted in a striking way. The intense glossy black of the head, throat, and broad band which divides the bright greenish yellow of the under parts lengthways, make him a conspicuous object.

His voice, for so small a bird, is a powerful and far-reaching one; and his frequently uttered spring call, or song, composed of two notes repeated two or three times in succession, strikes so sharply on the sense that it compels attention, like ringing blows on an anvil or on the rivets of iron rails and girders, or the sound of sharpening a saw. Saw-sharpener is one of its local names. Another thing—the oxeye is the largest of the tits, consequently the principal member of a group of small birds exhibiting very strongly marked characters. They differ from most small birds, to some extent, in form, colouring, and general appearance, and, in a greater degree, in language and habits. They are extremely active and restless, and spend most of their time in trees, from the bark of the trunk and large branches to the smallest terminal twigs and leaves. In winter, when the elms and other deciduous trees have shed their foliage, and their fine upper boughs appear like a sombre fretwork against the pale sky, the tits are seen at their best; they are then gathered into small flocks or family parties, and may be observed, as they scatter about the tree, clinging to the twigs in every conceivable position, and looking like a company of small sober-coloured paroquets of this cold northern world. They subsist principally on small insects and their eggs, larvæ, and chrysalids, but are almost omnivorous in their diet, feeding on buds, seed, and fruits, and on animal food when it can be had. A meaty bone or a piece of bacon, cooked or raw, or a lump of suet, will quickly attract them, as is well known. The oxeye, pretty little bird as it is, will eat carrion like any crow, and even kill and devour other small birds as big as himself. His rapacious habits have, however, not been very well established. In a captive condition he will occasionally attack a small bird in the same cage, killing it by vigorous blows on the head, and picking out its brains; but in a state of nature the great tit would probably be able to kill only a young or sick bird. For so small a bird he is, undoubtedly, very resolute and strong; the rapid blows of his short, strong bill on the bark sound like those of a nuthatch. Like that bird, he splits open the hard shells of seeds to get at the kernels.

The great tit is less social and gregarious than the other species of this group; still, he does unite in small parties, and joins the bands of mixed titmice and other small birds that form so familiar and interesting a feature of woods and copses in autumn and winter.

The nest is placed in a variety of situations, but a covered site is usually preferred to an open one, and nests may be found in holes and cavities in decayed timber, holes in walls, and in old nests of magpies, crows, and rooks. In a well-covered site the nest is loosely built; if in an open one, such as a crow’s nest, the structure is much more elaborate, dry grass, moss, hair, and wool, being closely woven together, and the inside thickly lined with feathers.

The eggs vary from five to eleven in number; usually they are seven or eight. They are pure white or faintly tinged with yellow, blotched and spotted with reddish brown. Two broods are reared in the season. The parent birds are very bold in defence of their eggs and young, and vigorously attack any bird that approaches the nest, without regard to its size. The sitting-bird sometimes refuses to leave her eggs, and when taken in the hand will bite and hiss like the wryneck.

In autumn and winter the number of great tits is considerably increased by a migration from the Continent.

Coal-Titmouse.
Parus ater; Parus britannicus.

Crown, throat, and front of the neck black; cheeks and nape pure white; upper parts grey; wings bluish grey, with two white bands; under parts white tinged with grey. Length, four and a quarter inches.

The coal-tit of our country (P. britannicus) differs slightly from the continental form (P. ater), the British bird having the slate-grey of the upper parts suffused with brown or olive, while in the continental form the brown tinge is confined to the rump. The European coal-tit visits our islands on migration, and doubtless interbreeds with our bird, as intermediate varieties are found.

The coal-tit, or coalmouse, like the oxeye and the blue tit, is generally diffused throughout the British Islands, and is not uncommon, although nowhere abundant. In Scotland it is more local in its distribution, being found chiefly in districts abounding in pine and fir woods. It is believed to be increasing in numbers and extending its range in this country. In its social habits, its flight, and its manner of seeking its food—during which it clings to the smaller boughs and twigs in a variety of positions—it closely resembles the other members of its genus. It also resembles them in its language, although a shriller note may be detected in its voice, both in its call-note and song. It differs from other tits in its greater activity, in preferring conifers to other trees, in going more often to the ground to feed, and in being a greater wanderer out of the breeding season.

The nest, as a rule, is placed near the ground, in a hole in a rotten tree-stump, or in a wall, or any other suitable place. It is composed of moss, hair, and feathers, felted together, and lined with more feathers. Six to eight eggs are laid, like those of the great tit in colour. Like the oxeye, it is omnivorous, but in summer it feeds principally on insects.

After the breeding season the old and young birds keep together, and several families may unite and form a flock. One of the most interesting winter sights in a wood composed of pine and fir growing together with beech and other deciduous trees is afforded by a wandering flock of coal-tits. As they move from tree to tree they attract other species of similar habits—the oxeye and blue and marsh tits, and goldcrests, and siskins, and perhaps a couple of tree-creepers. Occasionally a party of long-tailed tits will join, and keep with the flock for some time; but the long-tails are the most restless and vagrant of all, and eventually hurry on by themselves, leaving the more patient plodders behind. It is wonderful and very beautiful to see so many species thus drawn into companionship by a common social instinct, and by a similar manner of seeking their food; a mental likeness serves to keep them together for hours at a time, or for a whole day, in spite of so great a diversity in form and colour and language.

Marsh-Titmouse.
Parus palustris.

Forehead, crown, head, and nape black; upper parts grey; wings dark grey, lighter at the edges; cheeks, throat, and breast dull white. Length, four inches and a half.

It is curious that, of the seven species of birds inhabiting this country called titmice in the vernacular, six have been named from some character that strikes the eye: greater size in one, a peculiar feather-ornament in two, and in the remaining species a distinctive shape or colour; and the names in all cases are suitable—bearded, long-tailed, great, blue, coal, and crested. In the one case where this rule has been neglected the name is unsuitable and misleading. The marsh-tit may be more partial to low or wet ground than the blue tit, and oxeye, and coal-tit, but the bird is found everywhere—in woods, groves, hedgerows, orchards, and gardens—and in autumn and winter is seen associating with the other species in their wandering bands. But it would have been difficult to name this species from its colouring, which is more uniform and sober than in any of the others. He is the plainest of them all, but in his lively, social habits, and in his various pretty motions and attitudes, he is one of the family; and so strong in him is the family likeness, that some find it not easy to distinguish marsh-tit from coal-tit, except when seen closely. In its language, also, it is unmistakably a titmouse; but it is not so vociferous as the oxeye and blue tit, and its tinkering voice is not so sharp and loud.

The nest is placed in a rotten stump or trunk of a tree, an old pollarded willow being a favourite site; and sometimes the bird excavates a hole for itself in the decayed wood. The nest is made of moss and hair, felted together, and lined with willow down. The eggs are five or six in number, and are similar to those of the great tit in colouring.

The marsh-tit is common in England, rarer in Scotland, and does not extend to Ireland.

Blue Titmouse.
Parus cæruleus.

Crown blue encircled with white; cheeks white bordered with dark blue; back olive-green; wings and tail bluish; greater coverts and secondaries tipped with white; breast and belly yellow, traversed by a dark blue line. Length, four and a half inches.

The blue tit is a commoner species than the oxeye, and is even more widely diffused in this country, its range extending from the Channel Islands to the northernmost parts of Scotland, and it has been found as a straggler in the Orkneys and the Shetlands. All the qualities that distinguish the tits and make them such engaging birds are found in a marked degree in the present species—sociability; extreme vivacity, especially in the cold season; and the power to assume an endless variety of graceful positions when clinging to the slender branches and twigs, upright or pendulous, of the leafless trees in winter. And as the blue tit is more abundant, and more familiar with man, than the others, besides having a gayer colouring, he is the favourite member of his genus. He promises, indeed, to become in time our first feathered favourite; for though he is without melody, and does not come to us with a glad message, like the swallow, and has no ancient sentiment and nursery literature, like the robin, to help him to the front, he possesses one unfailing attraction—he is an amusing creature. Perhaps our progenitors were less susceptible in that way than we are, and took no notice of the tomtit and his vagaries. In winter he may be easily won with a little food; and when he joins the mixed company of sparrows, dunnocks, blackbirds, and starlings that come to the door for crumbs and scraps, he is by contrast among them a ‘winged jewel’—a small wanderer from the tropics. In works of ornithology you will find the blue tit described as a little acrobat and harlequin, droll and grotesque and fantastic in his ways; and if this Puck among our feathered fairies can win expressions such as these from the gravest scientific writers, it is not strange that ordinary folk should find him so fascinating.

The language of the blue tit resembles that of the oxeye. Its voice is not so powerful, but the various sounds, the call and love notes, or song, composed of one note repeated several times without variation, have similar sharp, incisive, and somewhat metallic qualities.

In spring the wandering little companies break up, and about the end of April breeding begins. The nest is placed in a hole in a tree or wall, or wherever a suitable cavity is found. It is loosely formed of dry grass or moss, lined with wool, hair, and a quantity of feathers. Five to eight eggs are usually laid, in some cases as many as twelve and fourteen; in colour they are like those of the great tit, and, as in the case of that species, the incubating bird sits closely on her eggs and hisses like a snake when interfered with.

The blue tit is omnivorous in its diet. In summer it feeds principally on caterpillars, aphides, and insects of all kinds, sometimes catching them on the wing. At other seasons it eats fruit and seeds of various kinds, buds, flesh, and, in fact, almost anything it can get.

Crested Titmouse.
Parus cristatus.

Feathers of the crown elongated, and forming when erected a pointed crest, black, edged with white; cheeks and sides of the neck white; throat, collar, and a streak across the temples black; all the other parts reddish brown; lower parts white, faintly tinged with red. Length, four inches and three-quarters.

The crested tit is one of the rarest and most local of British birds, being restricted to a few extensive pine-forests in the north of Scotland; indeed, there are few who know it from personal observation in this country. Although modest in colour, it is a pretty little bird, and its high, pointed crest gives it a somewhat distinguished appearance. In its language and habits it resembles the other members of the genus, and associates in the same way with birds of different species. Like the coal-tit, it makes its nest in a hole in a rotten tree-stump, and it will also breed in a crow’s or magpie’s old nest, or a squirrel’s drey. The nest is made of dry grass, moss, wool, hair, fur, and feathers, thinly felted together; and five or six eggs are laid, white in ground-colour, spotted and speckled with brownish red.

Nuthatch.
Sitta cæsia.

Upper parts bluish grey; a black streak across the eye; cheeks and throat white; breast and belly buff; flank and lower tail-coverts chestnut-red; outer tail feathers black, with a white spot near the end tipped with grey, the two central ones grey; beak bluish black, the lower mandible white at the base; feet light brown. Length, five inches and a half.

The nuthatch, although a small bird, not brightly coloured, and scarcely deserving the name of songster, exercises a singular attraction; and if it were possible to canvass all those who love birds, and have not fewer than half a dozen favourites, it is probable that in a great majority of cases the nuthatch would be found among them. When I see him sitting quite still for a few moments on a branch of a tree in his most characteristic nuthatch attitude, on or under the branch, perched horizontally or vertically, with head or tail uppermost, but always with the body placed beetle-wise against the bark, head raised, and the straight, sharp bill pointing like an arm lifted to denote attention—at such times he looks less like a living than a sculptured bird, a bird cut out of a beautifully variegated marble—blue-grey, buff, and chestnut—and placed against the tree to deceive the eye. The figure is so smooth and compact, the tints so soft and stone-like; and when he is still, he is so wonderfully still, and his attitude so statuesque! But he is never long still, and when he resumes his lively, eccentric, up-and-down and sideway motions he is interesting in another way. One is not soon tired of watching his perpetual mouse-like, independent-of-the-earth’s-gravity perambulations over the surface of the trunk and branches. He is like a small woodpecker who has broken loose from the woodpecker’s somewhat narrow laws of progression, preferring to be a law unto himself.

Without a touch of brilliant colour, the nuthatch is a beautiful bird on account of the pleasing softness and harmonious disposition of his tints; and, in like manner, without being a songster in the strict sense of the word, his voice is so clear and far-reaching, and of so pleasant a quality, that it often gives more life and spirit to the woods and orchards and avenues he frequents than that of many true melodists. This is more especially the case in the month of March, before the migratory songsters have arrived, and when he is most loquacious. A high-pitched, clear, ringing note, repeated without variation several times, is his most often-heard call or song. He will sometimes sit motionless on his perch, repeating this call at short intervals, for half an hour at a time. Another bird at a distance will be doing the same, and the two appear to be answering one another. He also has another call, not so loud and piercing, but more melodious: a double note, repeated two or three times, with something liquid and gurgling in the sound, suggesting the musical sound of lapping water. These various notes and calls are heard incessantly until the young are hatched, when the birds all at once become silent.

A hole in the trunk or branch of a large tree is used as a nesting-place, the entrance, if too large, being walled up with clay, only a small opening to admit the bird being left. At the extremity of the hole a bed of dry leaves is made. The eggs are five to seven in number, white, and spotted with brownish red, sometimes with purple. When the sitting-bird is interfered with she defends her treasures with great courage, hissing like the wryneck, and vigorously striking at the aggressor with her sharp bill.

The food of the nuthatch during a greater portion of the year consists of small insects and their larvæ, found in the crevices of the bark; hence the bird is most often seen frequenting old rough-barked trees, the oak being a special favourite, more especially if it happens to be well covered with lichen. At times, when seeking its prey, its rapid and vigorous blows on the bark or portion of rotten wood can be heard at a considerable distance, and are frequently mistaken for those of the woodpecker. In autumn the nuthatch feeds largely on nuts and fruit-stones, and to get at the kernel he carries the nut to a tree, and wedges it firmly in a crevice or in the angle made by a forked branch, then hammers at the end with his sharp beak until the shell is split open and the kernel disclosed. Its love of nuts makes it easy to attract the bird to a tree or wall close to the house by fixing nuts in the crevices. If supplied regularly with this kind of food it soon grows trustful, and may even be taught to come to call, and even to catch morsels of food thrown to it in the air. Canon Atkinson, in his lively and interesting ‘Sketches in Natural History,’ has described the amusing manners of a pair of nuthatches which he thus made tame by feeding. Since his book was published, about twenty-five years ago, many persons have adopted the same plan with success.

Wren.
Troglodytes parvulus.

Upper parts reddish brown with transverse dusky bars; quills barred alternately with black and reddish brown; tail dusky, barred with black; over the eye a pale narrow streak; under parts pale reddish brown; flanks and thighs marked with dark streaks. Length, three inches and a half.

The little nut-brown wren—nut-like, too, in his smallness and round, compact figure—with cocked-up tail and jerky motions and gesticulations, and flight as of a fairy partridge with rapidly-beating, short wings, that produce a whirring noise if you are close enough to hear it, is a familiar creature to almost every person throughout the three kingdoms, and is even more generally diffused than the house-sparrow. Something of the feeling which we have for the swallow, the house-martin, and the robin redbreast, falls to the share of the small wren. He is one of the few general favourites, although, perhaps, not so great a favourite as the others just named. The reason of this is, doubtless, because he is less domestic, never so familiar with man or tolerant of close observation. The wren is never tame nor unsuspicious; he is less dependent on us than other small birds that attach themselves to human habitations, never a ‘pensioner’ in the same degree as the blue tit, dunnock, blackbird, and sparrow. The minute spiders, chrysalids, earwigs, and wood-lice with other creeping things to be found in obscure holes and corners in wood-piles, ivy-covered walls, and outhouses, are more to his taste than the ‘sweepings of the threshold.’ His small size, modest colouring, and secrecy; his activity, and habit of seeking his food in holes and dark places which are not explored by other insectivorous species, enable him to exist in a great variety of conditions—gardens, orchards, deep woods, open commons, hedgerows, rocky shores, swamps, mountains, and moors; there are, indeed, few places where the small, busy wren is not to be met with. This ability of the wren to find everywhere in nature a neglected corner to occupy would appear to give it a great advantage over other small birds; moreover, it is very prolific, and excepting, perhaps, two species of tits, is more successful than any other small bird in rearing large broods of young. Nevertheless, the wrens do not seem to increase. At the end of summer they are very abundant, and you will, perhaps, be able to count a dozen birds where only one pair appeared in spring; but when spring comes again you will generally find that the population has fallen back to its old numbers. The larger increase in summer indicates a greater mortality during the rest of the year than is suffered by other species. The wren is said to eat fruit occasionally, and even seeds; but it is almost exclusively insectivorous, and probably perishes in large numbers during periods of frost, when larks, pipits, and titmice become seed-eaters. Yet the wren is a hardy little bird, a resident all the year round in the coldest parts of our country, and one of the few songsters which may be heard in all seasons. Even during a frost, if the sun shines, the wren will sing as gaily as in summer. His song is his greatest charm. It is unlike that of any other British melodist—a loud, bright lyric, the fine, clear, high-pitched notes and trills issuing in a continuous rapid stream from beginning to end. Although rapid, and ending somewhat abruptly, it is a beautiful and finished performance, in which every note is distinctly enunciated and has its value. When near it sounds very loud: one is surprised to hear so loud a song from so small a creature. But it does not carry far: the notes of the song-thrush, blackbird, and nightingale can be heard at nearly three times the distance.

The wren begins his nest-building at the end of April, and in selecting a site exercises a greater freedom than most small birds. The nests may be found in trees, bushes, masses of ivy or other dense vegetation, hedgerows, holes in banks and walls, crevices in rocks, in furze-bushes, and close to the ground among the bramble-bushes. There is also a great variety in the materials used in building different nests. As a rule, one kind of material is used for the outer part of the structure, which is domed, and very large for the bird. It may be moss or dead leaves, or moss and leaves woven together, or dry grass leaves and stems, or dead fern-fronds. The nest is not only well concealed, but in most cases the outside is made to assimilate in colour to the vegetation surrounding it. The opening is near the top of the nest; inside, the cavity is lined with moss, hair, and feathers. Four or five eggs are laid, often a larger number, and it is not unusual to find as many as eight or nine eggs in a nest. Not long ago, in a wood in Berkshire, I saw eight young wrens sitting in a row on a branch near the ground, and watched them being fed by the old birds. The eggs are pure white, thinly spotted with pinkish red. Two broods are reared in the season. Imperfect or false nests are often found near the nest containing the eggs, and are called ‘cocks’ nests,’ the belief being that they are made by the male bird.

Pied Wagtail.
Motacilla lugubris.

Summer plumage variegated with white and black; back and scapulars, chin, throat, and neck black; a small portion of the side of the neck white. Winter plumage: back and scapulars ash-grey; chin and throat white, with a black, but not entirely isolated, gorget. Length, seven and a half inches.

The pied wagtail is probably not more abundant in this country than the yellow wagtail, but is far better known, being a more generally diffused species, often seen in the neighbourhood of houses where the yellow wagtail never comes. And if there be a pied wagtail anywhere within range of sight, it is sure to be seen and recognised, for in its black-and-white plumage it is the most conspicuous small bird in this country, not excepting the kingfisher, snow-bunting and blackbird. When tripping about a smooth lawn he looks double his real size, and reminds one of a magpie in a field or an oyster-catcher on a wide stretch of level sand.

The pied wagtail is found in this country all the year round, but many birds (probably the large majority) migrate annually. Knox, in his ‘Ornithological Rambles in Sussex,’ says that they arrive on the Sussex coast about the middle of March, the old males first, the females and the males of the previous year a few days later. They are sometimes seen in large numbers near the coast, resting after their voyage before proceeding inland. The return migration takes place at the end of August or early in September.

Meadows and pasture-lands in the neighbourhood of a running stream are favourite resorts of the wagtail, and it is fond of attending cattle for the sake of the numbers of insects driven from their shelter in the grass by the grazing animals.

The pied wagtail is not so lively, quick, and graceful as the yellow and the grey species; but if you watch him for any length of time he, too, gives you the idea of a creature that never continues in the same mind for a minute at a time, but acts according to the impulse of the moment, and is as unstable as a ball of thistle-down. He runs, then stands, and shakes his tail; for two or three moments he searches for food; then chases an insect, and is still again, waiting for a new impulse to move him:—suddenly he flies away, not straight, as if with an object in view, but with a curving, dipping, erratic flight, governed seemingly by no will; and just as suddenly alighting again, when he is once more seen standing still and shaking his tail. The call-note, a sharp chirp of two syllables, is emitted once or twice during flight. The song is a loud, hurried warble, uttered on the wing as the bird hovers at a moderate height from the ground. But the pied wagtail has another way of singing, especially in early spring: this is a warble so low that at the distance of fifteen yards it is just audible, and is sometimes uttered continuously for two or three minutes at a stretch.

The nest is made, as a rule, in a hollow or cavity in the ground, or in a crevice or hole in a bank or rock, or under a stone, or at the roots of a furze-bush. It is built of fine dry grass, moss, and various other materials, and lined with hair and feathers. The eggs are four or five, pale bluish in tint, and spotted with greyish brown.

Grey Wagtail.
Motacilla melanope.

Summer plumage: head and back bluish grey; a pale streak over the eye; throat black; under parts bright yellow. Winter plumage: chin and throat whitish, passing into yellow. Length, seven inches and a half.

The grey wagtail is the prettiest and the least common of the three species of Motacilla inhabiting the British Islands. Like the dipper, it frequents mountain streams, but is not restricted to them. In England it is a somewhat rare species, but is more common in Scotland and Ireland. It remains with us throughout the year, but although a permanent resident in most parts of the country, it is certain that it disappears in autumn from many of its breeding-haunts in Scotland and the north of England, and that a large number of these northern birds winter in the southern and western counties.

The grey wagtail is frequently spoken of as a bird of brilliant plumage. It is not exactly that, but the various colours are so soft and delicate, they harmonise so admirably, and show in the velvet-black of the gorget and pure canary-yellow of the breast so fine a contrast, that the effect is most beautiful, and pleases, perhaps, more than the colouring of any other British bird. And this is not all. The charm which the grey wagtail has for those who know it intimately consists in the union of delicate colouring with a delicate form and exquisitely graceful motion. Ornithologists have called it a ‘fairy-like bird,’ and the terms in which they have sometimes recorded their impressions of it might lead one to imagine that they are speaking, not of a bird, but of some elusive nymph of the mountain rivulets, of whom they had caught a glimpse in their rambles. To its other charms may be added that of melody. Its spring song is sweet and lively, a little like that of the swallow in character, and is uttered as the bird hovers in the air. The alarm-note is like that of the pied wagtail, a sharp double note, emitted as the bird passes away in undulating flight.

The grey wagtail is more exclusively a bird of the waterside than either of the other two species, seldom being met with away from the margins of its beloved mountain streams; in its flight, motions on the ground, and manner of taking its insect prey, it closely resembles the pied and yellow wagtails, the only difference being that it is even more volatile, and that it is the most graceful of these three feathered Graces.

The nest is made on the ground, concealed by grass and herbage, or under a bush, and often under the shelter of an overhanging rock. It is formed of fibrous roots, dry grass, and moss, and lined with hair, wool, and feathers. The eggs are five or six in number, French white or grey in ground-colour, mottled and spotted with pale brown and olive.

Yellow Wagtail.
Motacilla rayii.

Top of head, lore, nape, back, and scapulars greenish olive; a bright yellow streak over the eye; lower parts sulphur-yellow. Length, six inches.

The yellow wagtail is a summer visitor, arriving at the end of March or early in April in this country, and is found very nearly in all parts of England, and is also common in the southern counties of Scotland; farther north it is rare, and in Ireland it is only known to breed in one locality. On its arrival it frequents open downs and sheepwalks, pastures, commons, and arable lands, more especially fields where spring sowing is in progress. On this account it has been named in some districts the barley-bird and oat-seed-bird, and in Scotland seed-bird and seed-lady—the last a suitable appellation for so sweet and dainty a creature. Seebohm says of it: ‘Its active, sylph-like movements, and its delicate form and lovely plumage, make it a general favourite.’ In its motions on the ground, its tail shaking and fanning gestures, and in its fitful curving and dipping flight, accompanied with a sharp double call-note, it closely resembles the species already described. From the pied wagtail it differs in never coming about houses or breeding in their vicinity; and from the grey wagtail in not being restricted to the waterside. In the fields it follows the plough, and in the pastures it is often seen with the cattle, chasing the small twilight moths and other insects driven from the grass.

As the season advances it forsakes the cultivated lands and open downs, and is more restricted to borders of streams, and to meadows and pastures not far from water. The nest is placed on the ground under the grass and herbage, and is formed of dry bents and fibrous roots, and lined with hair. Four to six eggs are laid, mottled with pale brown and olive on a French-white ground.

Besides the three species described we have the white wagtail (Motacilla alba) as a rare visitor to the south of England and Ireland, and the blue-headed yellow wagtail (Motacilla flava), an accidental straggler to the southern, south-western, and eastern counties of England. These two species breed throughout Europe, the first being the continental form of our pied wagtail, which it closely resembles; and the second, of the yellow wagtail.

Meadow-Pipit.
Anthus pratensis.

ind claw longer than the toe, slightly curved. Upper parts ash tinged with olive, the centre of each feather dark brown; under parts dull buffy white, with numerous elongated spots of dull brown. Length, five inches and three-quarters.

To the uninformed the pipits are lesser larks; they are lark-like in figure, in their sober, mottled colouring, in habits, language, and, to some extent, in the action which accompanies their song. But, in spite of these outward resemblances, modern authorities have removed them from the position they once occupied next to the larks in classification, to place them by the side of the wagtails, which are now supposed to be their nearest relations. And when wagtails and pipits are seen running and flying about together, it strikes us that there is among them a certain family resemblance; but we see, too, that the wagtails have diverged greatly, and are much more graceful in figure, have longer tails, and a gayer plumage; they are also more aërial in habit, and warble a more varied strain. From the fact that the numerous species of pipits are so much alike, not only in appearance, but also in habits, language, and flight, and that they are so widely distributed on the globe, being found both on continents and oceanic islands, it may be inferred that the modest earth-loving pipit represents the original form from which the wagtails have sprung.

Of our three species, the meadow-pipit is by far the most numerous, being found in all open situations, moist or dry, meadow and waste-land, moor and mountain-side, and close by the sea, where one can listen to meadow-pipit and rock-pipit singing together, or alternately, like birds of one species, and compare the two songs, that are so much alike. This species is, moreover, to be met with in all parts of our country, from the warm Hampshire and Dorset coasts to the western islands of Scotland; but while in the main a resident all the year round in the southern parts of the country, in the bleak and barren districts of the farther north he is migratory, and moves southward in winter in considerable flocks.

The meadow-pipit seeks his food on the ground, and moves nimbly about in search of minute beetles, caterpillars, and seeds, pausing at intervals to stand motionless for a few seconds, with head raised and tail slowly moving up and down. When approached he displays a curious mixture of timidity and tameness, and eyes the intruder with suspicion, but flies with reluctance. The flight is a succession of jerky movements, the bird rising and falling in a somewhat wild, erratic manner.

In the love season the male pipit occasionally takes his stand on a weed or low bush; but on moors, hills, and stony waste-lands he prefers a stone or mound of earth for a perch. From such an elevation he is able to keep watch on the movements of his mate, and, when the singing spirit takes him, to launch himself easily on the air. To sing he soars up to a height of forty feet or more, then glides gracefully down, with tail spread and wings half-closed and motionless, presenting the figure of a barbed arrow-head. In his descent he emits a series of notes with little or no variation in them, slightly metallic in sound, and very pleasing. These notes are occasionally repeated as the bird sits motionless on the ground.

In describing bird-melody it is sometimes borne in on us that all that has, or can be, said about the song of any species is not only inadequate, but in a sense even false, inasmuch as a single song of an individual is described as compared with that of some other, usually nearly related, species. Thus, the meadow-pipit’s song is said to be less rich and varied, and in every way inferior to that of the tree-pipit. This is true enough, so far as it goes, but it does not take into account the different scenes in the midst of which the two distinct sounds are heard. The song of a single meadow-pipit, heard close at hand, is a slight performance—an attenuated and not very dulcet sound. The effect is wholly different and most delightful when a dozen or twenty birds are within hearing, singing at intervals at a distance, on a perfectly calm day on the moors or downs. As the little widely-scattered, unseen melodists rise and fall, the sounds they emit are refined to something bell-like and delicate: the effect is unique and indescribably charming and fairy-like.

The nest is a neat structure, usually placed in a small cavity in the ground, under a bunch of grass or heather, and is made of dry bents, and lined with fine grass, fibrous roots, and hair. Four to six eggs are laid; these vary greatly in colour and markings, but the most common form is white, thickly mottled over with greyish brown. When the nest is approached the parent birds display great solicitude, flying from place to place, and incessantly uttering a sharp but plaintive chirp of alarm.

Tree-Pipit
Anthus trivialis.

Upper parts ash tinged with olive, the centre of each feather dark brown; a double band across the wing, formed by the yellowish white tips of the lesser and middle wing-coverts; the outer pair of tail feathers white; throat and region of the eye dull white; breast buff, with elongated spots of dark brown; belly and lower tail-coverts dull white. Length, six inches.

Of the three species of Anthus inhabiting the British Islands, and which are appropriately named of the tree, rock, and meadow, according to their respective habits, the tree-pipit alone is migratory, appearing in this country about the third week in April, to remain until the end of September, and sometimes longer. In size, colour, and general appearance it so closely resembles the meadow-pipit that the two species are hardly distinguishable, except by examination in the hand. They also resemble each other in their feeding habits, running about in the grass in a mouse-like manner in search of the small insects and seeds on which they subsist, and, when flushed, starting up suddenly, with a sharp chirp of alarm, and going away with a wild, jerky flight. The tree-pipit is distributed widely over the country, and is found at most wood sides, and where trees grow singly or in isolated groups about the pasture-lands. Where the conditions are favourable he is a common bird, but never abundant. In spring and summer the tree-pipit is solitary, and it is possible that the males, as with the redbreast and nightingale, are not tolerant of other singers of their own species near them, as they are always found occupying trees far apart—seldom, in fact, within hearing distance of one another. On the arrival of the birds in April each male chooses a home, a feeding-ground, with a tree or trees to sing on, and this spot he will occupy until the end of the breeding season, after which the birds resort to the fallows and stubbles, and sometimes before departure they are seen gathered in small flocks.

It has been said of the tree-pipit’s song that it is like that of the canary, and that it ‘is perhaps more attractive from the manner in which it is given than from its actual quality.’ Both statements are true in a measure: that is to say, they will be found true in many instances, but not always. For there are few birds in which the song varies so much in different individuals. The reiterated, clear thin notes and trills that so closely resemble those of the caged canary are heard in some songs, and not in others. As a rule, the bird perches on a favourite tree, very often using the same branch, and at intervals, rising into the air, ascends with rapidly-beating wings, and when it attains to the highest point—usually as high again as the tree, but sometimes considerably higher—the song begins with a succession of notes resembling the throat-notes of the skylark, but very much softer. With the song the descent begins, the open wings fixed motionless, and so raised as to give the bird a parachute-like appearance, falling slowly in a beautiful curve or spiral; on the perch the song continues, but with notes of a different quality—clear, sweet and expressive—repeated many times. Having ended its song, it remains perched for a few moments silent, or else uttering notes as at the beginning, until once more it quits its perch, either to repeat the flight and song, or to drop to the ground, from which it shortly ascends to sing again. The manner in which the song is given is thus always beautiful, and in some individuals there is a wonderful sweetness in the quality of the voice.

The nest is built near the male bird’s favourite tree, and is placed in a hollow in the ground, and so well concealed by the grass and herbage that it is almost impossible to find it, unless by flushing the incubating bird from it. It is formed of fine dry grass and fibrous roots, and lined with horsehair. Four to six eggs are laid, of a dull white ground-colour, spotted with dull brown, grey, and purple, sometimes with blotches and hair-like marks among the spots. The eggs of this species vary a great deal.

Rock-Pipit.
Anthus obscurus.