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British birds

Chapter 87: Cirl Bunting. Emberiza cirlus.
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About This Book

A comprehensive natural-history survey of the birdlife of Britain that pairs a technical chapter on avian anatomy and classification with accessible species accounts. Individual entries describe identification features, plumage variations, song, habitat preferences, breeding habits, migration and geographical distribution, and are supported by color plates and illustrations. Field observations highlight seasonal and local behaviors and interactions with landscape, while comparative anatomical discussion clarifies relationships among groups. The combination of scientific explanation and firsthand notes is intended to inform identification and deepen appreciation of native birds.

O to be in England
Now that April’s there;
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs of the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England now!

The chaffinch makes the most of his song. He appears, indeed, very much in earnest in whatever he does, his character in this respect offering a strong contrast to that of the goldfinch, siskin, and various other melodists. They sing at all times, anywhere and anyhow. With the chaffinch, singing is a business just as important as any other—feeding, fighting, pairing, and building. He flies to a tree, and deliberately takes his stand, often on the most commanding twig, and there delivers his few notes with the utmost energy, and so rapidly that they almost run into each other, ending with a fine flourish. At regular intervals of a few seconds the performance is repeated, the bird standing erect and motionless all the time; until, having given the fullest and most complete expression to his feelings, he flies away, to engage elsewhere in some task of another kind.

It is a loud song and a joyous sound—‘gay as a chaffinch’ is a proverbial saying of the French; but there is also a note of defiance in the song, as in the crow of a cock. Chaffinches sing, as cocks crow, against each other, and the music often ends in a combat. It is not, as some imagine, that there is a spirit of emulation in birds with regard to their singing—that they are rival musicians, like the shepherds in the old pastorals, that contended in song for mastery: it is simply that the cock chaffinch, like the robin and some other species, is a bird of a jealous and pugnacious disposition, and can brook no other male chaffinch near him. Another’s singing tells him that another male is present, and his jealousy is at once excited. If the sound is at a distance, he will content himself by answering song with song; if near, he will quickly seek out the singer, and drive him from his chosen ground. It is this jealous temper of the chaffinch that gives it value to the bird-fanciers of a base kind.

The chaffinch is first heard before the end of February. He pairs early in March, and in April begins to build. The nest is placed in a shrub or tree, in a cleft, or on a horizontal branch. An apple, pear, or cherry tree in an orchard is a favourite site; but any tree, from an evergreen in a garden to the largest oak or elm, may be selected, and the nest may be at any height from the ground from half a dozen to fifty feet. It is a very beautiful structure, formed outwardly of lichen, moss, and dry grass, compactly woven together, and mixed with cobwebs; the cup-shaped inside is lined with hair, vegetable down, and feathers. In most cases the outer portion of the nest is composed of materials that give it a close resemblance to the tree it is built on. Thus, on an oak or apple tree overgrown with grey lichen, or on a silver birch, the framework is chiefly composed of lichen; but in deep green bushes evergreen moss is used. The nest is built by the female, but the male assists in collecting and bringing materials. A fortnight, or longer, is taken to complete this elaborate nest; but from the beginning, and even before the nest is begun, the birds exhibit the greatest excitement and distress if the chosen tree is approached, flying round and flitting from branch to branch, incessantly uttering their well-known alarm-notes, usually spelt pink-pink or spink-spink, a clear, penetrating sound, slightly metallic in character; also another sound, a lower and somewhat harsh note of anxiety.

The eggs are four or five in number, of a pale bluish green, spotted and blotched with dull purplish brown. The young are fed on caterpillars and small insects. The adults, too, subsist chiefly on insects in summer, seeking for them on the ground, and sometimes capturing them in the air, like the flycatcher.

In autumn the chaffinches congregate in flocks, and at this season the separation of the sexes, about which so much has been said since the days of Linnæus, takes place. Something remains to be known on this subject. It is beyond dispute that large flocks composed entirely of birds of one sex are often met with in autumn and winter, both in this country and on the Continent. The question about which ornithologists differ is as to whether or not a separation of the sexes takes place among chaffinches of British race. Seebohm says: ‘It is probable that this peculiar habit is confined to the birds that come to our shores in autumn’; and we have it on good authority that no separation of males from females takes place in the south and west of England. In the month of September, at one place in Scotland, I observed the male chaffinches gathered in small parties of three or four to a dozen individuals; these were the birds belonging to the district; but the females had vanished. Selby observed the same thing many years ago in Scotland and the north of England. One can only suppose that the migratory impulse is a little stronger or earlier in the female of this species, and that the divergence between the sexes, in this respect, becomes greater as we go towards the northern limit of its range.

Brambling.
Fringilla montifringilla.

Head, cheeks, nape, and upper part of back black, the feathers (in winter) tipped with light brown or ash-grey; neck and scapulars pale orange-brown; wings black variegated with orange-brown and white; rump and lower parts white; the flanks reddish, with a few dark spots. Female: crown reddish brown, the feathers tipped with grey; a black streak over the eye; cheeks and neck ash-grey; all the rest as in the male, but less bright. Length, six and a quarter inches.


The brambling, or mountain-finch, comes nearest in relationship to the chaffinch, but differs very much in its glossy black, white, and bright buff colouring, and is a much prettier bird. We do not see it in its bright nuptial plumage in this country; for it is an arctic species, breeding in very high latitudes, in birch woods near the limit of forest growth. Its nest and eggs resemble those of the chaffinch, the nest being a compact and beautifully shaped fabric that assimilates in colour to the white and grey bark of the silver birch. The bramblings arrive in this country during September and October, and are found in winter throughout Great Britain and Ireland. They are, however, very irregular in their movements, and do not, like the redwings, return year after year to the same localities; but, as a rule, where a flock appears in autumn, there it will remain until the end of winter. Beech-woods form a great attraction to them, beech-mast being their favourite food, and where it is abundant they will sometimes congregate in immense numbers. As a songster the brambling ranks low among the finches, but the lively chirping and twittering concert of a large flock on a tree-top, and in the evening, before the birds settle to roost, has a very pleasing effect.

Linnet.
Linota cannabina.

Forehead and centre of the crown crimson; the rest of the head, nape, and sides of the neck, mottled brownish grey; mantle chestnut-brown; wing-feathers blackish, with outer edges white, forming a conspicuous bar; upper tail-coverts dark brown with whitish margins; tail-feathers black, narrowly edged with white on the outer and broadly on the inner webs; chin and throat dull white, striped with greyish brown; breast crimson; belly dull white; flanks fawn-brown. Length, five inches and three-quarters. In winter the crimson feathers are concealed by wide greyish margins. Female: duller in colour and without any crimson.


Next to the goldfinch, the linnet is the most sought after in this country as a cage-bird, and the demand for linnets is no doubt causing a great diminution in their numbers. But they are still fairly abundant, and to be met with in most waste and uncultivated places, especially where furze-bushes abound.

The linnet is one of the most social of the finches, being found gathered in small flocks and parties of three, or four, or half a dozen, even in the middle of the breeding season. When perched or flying they incessantly call to each other in sharp little chirps and twittering notes. They are more aërial in habit than most finches, and take to flight very readily, and fly high, with great velocity; and when at a great elevation they are often seen to check their rapid course very suddenly, and dart away in some other direction, or else to drop plumb down like falling hailstones to the earth. Being so free of the air, they are great rovers, and, except when engaged in breeding, are constantly travelling about in the open country at all times of the year.

In the colour of its plumage the linnet is one of the most variable of birds: it is common to meet with bird-catchers and bird-fanciers who hear with surprise, and even with incredulity, that all these birds of different tints are of one species. The cock linnet never, or very rarely, puts on his most beautiful colours in captivity, and even in a state of nature the individuals composing a flock are seen to differ greatly. Among a dozen birds, perhaps only one will exhibit the perfect male plumage—the blood-red forehead, grey head, rich chestnut-brown upper parts, and lovely carmine breast. There is one variety, known as the lemon linnet, in which the breast is lemon-yellow instead of carmine-red; and there are other varieties. In song, too, the linnet greatly varies. When the singer is a good one, and listened to at a distance not exceeding twenty or thirty yards, the strain is sprightly, varied, and very agreeable; but the sweetest part is a phrase of two or three notes which usually comes as a prelude to the song; the sound has a quality that reminds one of the swallow’s voice, but it is purer, and suggests a very delicate wind instrument. During the love season the male sometimes sings on the wing; rising to a height of several yards, it drops slowly and gracefully down, uttering a series of beautiful notes and trills.

A furze-bush is the site most often selected for the nest; this is formed of fine dry grass and fibres, and lined with wool and vegetable down, sometimes with hair. Four to six eggs are laid, chalky white, and faintly tinged with blue in ground-colour, and spotted with light reddish brown and purplish red.

After the breeding season the linnets unite in large flocks, and at this time there is a southward movement, and large numbers undoubtedly leave this country to winter elsewhere. But even in the cold season they are common enough, and their fitful winter-evening concerts, when they congregate on a tree-top before settling down for the night, are as pleasant to listen to as the love-song of the male heard in spring among the blossoming furze and broom.

Lesser Redpoll.
Linota rufescens.

Forehead, lore, and throat black; crown deep crimson; upper parts reddish brown with dusky streaks; wings and tail dusky, edged with pale reddish brown; breast glossy rose-red, passing into light chestnut-brown on the sides; belly and lower tail-coverts dull white. Female: less bright. Length, five and a quarter inches.


Fig. 48.—Lesser Redpoll. ⅓ natural size.

The redpoll, or redpole, as it is often written, is a pretty and interesting little bird of the northern parts of Great Britain. It has been described by Seebohm as an immature linnet in appearance, but resembling a siskin in its habits. It is usually called the lesser redpoll, because it is slightly less in size than the continental redpoll, which sometimes visits this country in winter. This last subspecies is the mealy redpoll (Linota linaria). A third form of this wide-ranging little bird, the Greenland redpoll (Linota hornemanni), has been included in the list of British birds on account of a single specimen having been obtained in this country.

In its lively disposition, its flight, and to some extent in its language, the redpoll resembles the linnet; but its feeding habits vary according to the season of the year and the conditions it finds itself in. In summer it keeps much to the higher branches of the trees, where it moves deftly about like a siskin or a crested tit in its search after minute insects and their larvæ; but in winter it feeds principally on seeds which it finds on the ground. It is fond of the seeds of the birch-tree. The appearance of a flock of redpolls feeding among the birches is thus described by Warde Fowler: ‘It is one of the prettiest sights that our whole calendar of bird life affords to watch these tiny linnets at work in the delicate birch-boughs. They fear no human being, and can be approached within a very few yards. They almost outdo the titmice in the amazing variety of their postures. They prefer in a general way to be upside down, and decidedly object to the commonplace attitudes of more solidly built birds.’

The song of the redpoll is described by Seebohm as a short, monotonous trill, clear, shrill, and not unmusical; and he adds that ‘it might be said to resemble the rattling of loose cog-wheels.’ It breeds in suitable localities, chiefly in birch-woods in Scotland, and in England north of Norfolk and Leicester. It also breeds occasionally in more southern localities. The nest is made of dry grass and moss on a foundation of slender twigs, and is well lined with vegetable down, or with wool and feathers. It is a very neat, cup-shaped nest, and contains four to six eggs, greenish blue in ground-colour, with spots and specks of purplish brown.

After the breeding season the redpolls begin to scatter about the country in small flocks; as autumn approaches these flocks increase in size, and a southward movement begins, large numbers crossing the Channel. Many, however, remain to winter at home, and these may be met with in woods and plantations, leading a vagrant life in small flocks, and often associating on the trees with titmice, goldcrests, and siskins.

Twite.
Linota flavirostris.

Upper parts dark brown, the feathers edged with light brown; rump (of the male) tinged with red; throat tawny brown; breast and belly dull white, streaked on the flanks with dark brown; beak yellow; feet dark brown. Length, five and a quarter inches.


The twite, or mountain-linnet, is a bird of the mountain and moorland, and of the north, being most abundant in the Hebrides; but it also breeds in hilly districts throughout Scotland, and in suitable localities in the northern and midland counties. In the south it is a winter visitor, and is then found associating with the linnet, which it very closely resembles in flight, habits, and appearance; when near it may be distinguished by its shriller voice, and by its longer tail, which makes it look slimmer. In its song, too, the twite resembles the linnet, and, like that bird, occasionally sings on the wing; but its music is wanting in the finer sounds—just as its plumage is without the lovely carmine tint—of the other species.

The nest is placed in a bunch of heather, or beneath it, on the ground, and sometimes in a furze-bush. It is made of dry grass, moss, and wool, lined with hair and fur. The eggs are five or six in number, and are like the linnet’s in colour.

In autumn the twites unite in large flocks, and visit the stubbles and ploughed lands.

Bullfinch.
Pyrrhula europæa

Fig. 49.—Bullfinch. ⅓ natural size.

Crown, throat, region round the beak, wings, and tail lustrous purple-black; upper part of the back bluish ash; ear-coverts, sides of the neck, breast, and belly red; lower tail-coverts dull white; a broad buff and grey band across the wing. Length, six and a quarter inches.


The bullfinch stands out among British finches with a strange distinctness. He is gaily coloured, and the arrangement of colours is a striking one—glossy black, blue-grey, and pure white above, and a fine red beneath. This is described in the books as ‘brickred’; and there is no doubt that, among the thousand and more shades of the less vivid red seen in bricks taken fresh from the kiln, the exact tint of the bullfinch might be matched. In the same way you could match the most delicate floral red—that which we see in the spikes of the red horse-chestnut, and the almond blossom, and the briar rose. The earthy, uniform red of weathered bricks is not the colour of our bird. The beauty of such a tint as that of the bullfinch can be best appreciated where, indeed, it is most commonly seen, amidst the verdure of clustering leaves; for greens and reds, pleasing in themselves, ever make the most agreeable contrasts among colours.

In its figure, too, this bird is very singular among the finches: his curiously arched beak gives him the look of a diminutive hawk in a gay plumage.

The bullfinch is greatly persecuted by gardeners on account of the mischief he is supposed to do, for he has the habit of feeding on the flower-buds of fruit-trees in winter and spring. On the other hand, he is greatly esteemed as a cage-bird, and the bird-catchers are ever on the watch for it. But the effect in both cases is pretty much the same, since the hatred that slays and the love that makes captive are equally disastrous to the species. There is no doubt that it is diminishing in this country, and that it is now a rare bird in most districts. Fortunately, it has a wide distribution in Great Britain: in Ireland, where it is said to be rare, I have found it not uncommon, and tamer than in England. It may be increasing there, which would not be strange in a country where even the magpie is permitted to exist, and birds generally are regarded with kindlier feelings than in this country.

The bullfinch does not often go to the ground to feed; he gets most of his food on trees and bushes—insects, buds, fruit, and seeds of various kinds. He inhabits woods, plantations, and thickets, and is often seen in thick hedges and in the tangled vegetation growing by the side of streams. Where he is not persecuted he is a tame and rather sedentary bird, and will allow a person to approach within a dozen yards before leaving his perch. His call and alarm note is a low, piping, musical sound, very pleasant to hear. The male sings in the spring, and so, it is said, does the female; but his strain is short, and so feeble that it can be heard only at a distance of a few yards.

The nest is built during the last half of April in a holly or yew, or other dense, dark bush or tree, or in a thick hedge. It is unlike the nest of any other finch, being outwardly a platform-shaped structure made of interwoven twigs, with a cup-shaped nest in the centre, formed of fine rootlets, the rim of the cup projecting above the platform it is built on. The eggs are four to six, greenish blue in ground-colour, spotted and sometimes streaked with dark purplish brown, and blotched with pinkish brown.

Bullfinches pair for life, and at all seasons of the year male and female are seen together; if any young are reared, they usually remain in company with the parent birds during the autumn and winter months.


Nearly allied to the common bullfinch are two beautiful birds which have a place in our list of species. One of these is the rosy bullfinch (Carpodacus erythrinus), of which two or three stragglers have been found in England; it breeds in Finland, and is found throughout the Russian Empire. The other is the pine grossbeak (Pinicola (enucleator), also a rare straggler to Britain from the north of Europe.

Crossbill.
Loxia curvirostra.

Fig. 50.—Crossbill. ¼ natural size.

Wing and tail feathers brown; all other parts green, yellow, orange, and tile-red, according to age and sex. Red is the colour of the adult male in a state of nature, and yellow in captivity. Length, six inches and a half.


The crossbills differ from all other birds in the extraordinary form of the parrot-like bill. In other birds, whatever the shape of the bill may be, straight or curved, or broad and flat, or conical, or hooked, the two mandibles correspond, and fit when closed like box and lid. In this bird both mandibles have prolonged curved points, and cross each other, much as the two forefingers of our hands cross when the fingers are loosely linked together. A full description of this form of beak and its use as a seed-extractor, together with an admirably written history of the common crossbill, is contained in the second volume of Yarrell’s great work (fourth edition).

The crossbill is also remarkable on account of the changes of colour it undergoes and of the brightness of its colours. These are birds of the sombre pine-woods, inhabiting high latitudes; but in their various greens and reds and yellows they are like tanagers and other tropical families, and form an exception to the rule that birds of brilliant plumage are restricted to regions of brilliant sunlight.

No fewer than four species of this genus (Loxia) figure in the list of British birds; three of these may be dismissed in a few words:—

Parrot crossbill (Loxia pittyopsittacus) breeds in the pine-forests of Scandinavia and northern Russia, and is known in England as a rare straggler. It is scarcely distinct, specifically, from the common crossbill.

White-winged crossbill (Loxia leucoptera), a North American species, once obtained in England.

Two-barred crossbill (Loxia bifasciata) a Siberian species; a rare straggler to England and Ireland.

The fourth species (the common crossbill) has a better title to figure as a British species, and its winter visits to this country are much more frequent, although irregular; and it also breeds with us in some localities in Scotland, probably every year, and has also bred intermittingly in many districts in England, even so far south as Bournemouth. The reason of its irregularity in visiting our shores is that the crossbill is one of those species that do not go farther from home than they are compelled by severe cold and scarcity of food. Driven from home they become ‘gipsy migrants,’ and may be very abundant with us one year, and not one appear the following season, or for several seasons. At all times of the year the crossbill is gregarious in its habits. Throughout the summer it is seen in small parties; when the breeding season is over these begin to move about, accompanied by the young birds, and join with other parties, and as the season progresses the flock grows by process of accretion until it may number many hundreds. At this season they are remarkably tame, and will allow a person to approach within a few yards and admire their colours and various motions as they cling to and climb, parrot-like, about the twigs in search of seed and fruit. When flying they call to each other with a loud shrill note, and in late winter and spring both male and female utter a low warbling song.

The nest is placed in a pine-tree, at a distance from the ground of from five to forty feet; it is formed outwardly of twigs, roots, and dry grass; the inner part, of wool, hair, and feathers. Four or five eggs are laid, white or greenish white in ground-colour, spotted with reddish brown, with under-markings of pale brown.

Corn-Bunting.
Emberiza miliaria.

Upper parts yellowish brown with dusky spots; under parts yellowish white spotted and streaked with dusky. Length, seven and a half inches.

The present species is the largest of our five buntings, and is the most generally diffused throughout the British Islands. It is often called the common bunting, but is scarcely deserving of the name, as in most places it is less common than the yellow bunting. It is certainly more local than that bird, although in some localities, both in the south and north of England, it is more numerous than any other bird of its genus. Nor is its other name of corn-bunting more strictly accurate, for though it is a frequenter of corn-fields in spring and summer, it is equally partial to hay-meadows, commons, and other open places. Like the skylark, it loves an open sky and a wide horizon; but, not being able to soar, it seeks an elevation of some kind to perch on—a hedge-top, or the summit of a bush, or a tall weed in the middle of a field of corn, will serve it; but, best of all, it loves a telegraph-wire, where it sits on high above the world, in sunshine and wind, and without the slightest exertion is able to experience agreeable sensations like those of the kestrel, lark, or tern, when suspended motionless in mid-air. On a telegraph-wire it will sit contentedly by the hour, delivering its song at regular intervals.

The buntings—all those included in the genus Emberiza—differ from other finches in their more sedentary habits and heavier motions. The present species is the heaviest and most sedentary of all, and on this account, and also on account of its dull plumage, and because its voice is not melodious, it has been usually described in somewhat depreciatory terms. Yarrell speaks of its droning, harsh, unmusical song; and Warde Fowler thus describes it in his delightful book, ‘A Year with the Birds’: ‘Look at the common corn-bunting, as he sits on the wires or the hedge-top: he is lumpy, loose-feathered, spiritless, and flies off with his legs hanging down, and without a trace of agility or vivacity; he is a dull bird, and seems to know it. Even his voice is half-hearted, and reminds me often of an old man in our village who used to tell us that he had a wheezing in his pipes.’ This is a pretty description; but it makes the homely bunting a little too homely, and the critical remarks on its singing are not quite satisfactory: the song is not droning, and not half-hearted. Heard at intervals in the open, sunny fields and pasture-lands, it somehow has a pleasant effect. It is a peculiar sound, not easily describable. The song begins with two or three vigorous and musical chirps, then all at once the bird seems to lose himself as a musician, and throws out all that remains of his song in a burst of confused sound. In character it is somewhat like the sharp note of alarm, or excitement of some kind, often uttered in spring by the skylark as he flies low above the field, but is sharper and more prolonged. Robert Gray wrote: ‘It puts you in mind of the jingling of a chain or the sound of breaking glass.’ It is certainly like breaking glass. You can imitate it by tightly pressing a handful of polished pebbles together, which produce, as they slide over each other, a variety of sharp and scraping sounds. It is a peculiarity of the song that it is like several sounds emitted simultaneously, as of a note broken up into splinters, or issuing from a bundle of minute windpipes instead of out of one of larger size.

Of all the birds that remain with us throughout the year, the bunting is the latest to breed, the nest being usually built in May. It is placed among grass and herbage close to the ground, and formed of dry grass and fibrous roots, lined with horsehair and fine fibres. Four to six eggs are laid, dull purplish white or pale yellowish in ground-colour, blotched and streaked with dark brown, with some patches of a dull lavender hue.

The bunting feeds on seeds and grain and insects. In autumn it becomes gregarious, and visits the stubbles and rickyards, where it is seen associating with sparrows, greenfinches, and chaffinches.

Yellowhammer.
Emberiza citrinella.

Fig. 51.—YELLOWHAMMER. ⅓ natural size.

Head, neck, breast, and under parts bright yellow, more or less streaked with dusky; flanks streaked with brownish red; upper parts reddish brown spotted with dusky. Female: the yellow parts less bright, and spotted with dull reddish brown. Length, six and a quarter inches.


The yellowhammer, or yellow bunting, is one of the most generally diffused species in the British Islands, and, on account of its habit of always perching on the summit of a bush or other elevation, and of its bright yellow head and neck, which make it conspicuous at a distance, it is a familiar object to every person in the rural districts. It differs from the corn-bunting both in a brighter colouring and in a slimmer and more graceful figure. But it is a heavy bird nevertheless, of a sedentary disposition, and during the warm season spends a great portion of its time in sitting upright and motionless on its perch, uttering its song at regular intervals.

This species affects rough commons and waste lands in preference to fields, and where he is found you may hear his song at all times of the day, even during the sultriest hours; for although the yellowhammer remains with us throughout the year, and is able to resist the colds of winter, he is a great lover of heat. The song is very different from that of the species last described: it is composed of half a dozen or more short, reedy notes, all exactly alike, and shaken out, as it were, in a hurry, followed by a long, thin note, or by two notes, slightly melodious in character. It may be described as a trivial and monotonous song, but it is a summer sound which most people hear with pleasure, and the yellowhammer, or ‘little-bit-of-bread-and-no-c-h-e-e-s-e,’ as it is called in imitation of its note, is something of a favourite with country-people. The rustics have a story about the origin of the bread-and-no-cheese name, which they think very laughable; and one is certainly very much amused at the manner in which it is usually told. This is ponderous and slow, and strikes one as highly incongruous, the subject being only a childish legend about a little bird.

According to Yarrell, the Scotch peasants have some curious superstitions about the yellow yoldring, as they call it. To them its song sounds like the words ‘Deil, deil, deil tak ye,’ and the bird itself is supposed to be on very familiar terms with the evil being whose name it invokes so freely, and who supplies it on a May morning with a drop of his own blood with which to paint its curiously marked eggs.

About the middle of April the yellowhammer builds its nest, on or above the ground, among furze and bramble bushes, or at the roots of a hedge, or in a bank among grass and nettles. The nest is large but neatly made, outwardly of dry grass, stalks, roots, and moss, the inside being lined with fibres and horsehair. The eggs are four or five in number, purplish white in ground-colour, streaked and veined with deep reddish purple, with violet-grey under-markings.

The young males acquire the bright yellow head of the adult bird at the autumn moult.

Although this bird remains with us throughout the year, it has a partial migration. In autumn and winter it is seen in small flocks, often feeding in company with the common bunting and other finches. In winter its food consists principally of seeds; in summer it subsists largely, and feeds its young exclusively, on insects.

Cirl Bunting.
Emberiza cirlus.

Fig. 52.—Cirl Bunting. ⅓ natural size.

Crown olive streaked with black; throat, neck, and band across the eye black; gorget and band above and below the eye bright yellow; breast olive-grey, bounded at the sides by chestnut; belly dull yellow; back brownish red with dusky spots. Female: the distinct patches of black and yellow wanting; the dusky spots on the back larger. Length, six and a half inches.


This bird, in its dress of many colours—chestnut-brown, olive, black and white, and lemon-yellow—is the handsomest of the British buntings. It is an uncommon species, being restricted to the southern and western counties of England, and exceedingly local in its distribution. It is, moreover, of a shy disposition, and hides from sight in tall trees; consequently it is seldom seen, and is known to few persons. It is resident all the year. Its winter movements, if it has any, are not known. The curious fact about this bunting is that its breeding-places, which form small isolated areas, chiefly on or near the south-western coast, remain year after year unchanged. The birds do not nest outside of the old limits, nor do they form fresh colonies in other suitable places.

Hedgerow-elms, and other large trees growing near fields, are favourite resorts of the cirl bunting, and the male takes his stand to sing on a tree-top, just as the yellowhammer does on a furze-bush or hedge-top. His song comes nearest in character to that of the species just named, being composed of several rapidly uttered, short notes, only brighter and more vigorous; but the song is without the long, thin note with which the more common species ends his slight strain. In its nesting habits and in the colour of its eggs it is like the yellowhammer, but its young are fed almost wholly on young grasshoppers.

In summer the cirl bunting lives chiefly on insects, but in autumn and winter it is, like other finches, a seed-eater, and at this season unites in small flocks, and occasionally associates with birds of other species

Reed-Bunting.
Emberiza schœniclus.

Head, throat, and gorget black (in winter speckled with light brown); nape, sides of the neck, and a line extending to the base of the beak white; upper parts variegated with reddish brown and dusky; under parts white streaked with dusky on the flanks. Female: head reddish brown with dusky spots; the white on the neck less distinct; under parts reddish white, with dusky spots. Length, six inches.


Fig. 53.—Reed-Bunting. ¼ natural size.

The reed-bunting, although by no means an uncommon bird, is not nearly so common as either the corn-bunting or yellowhammer. It is a bird of the waterside, and its spring and summer life is passed among the reeds and aquatic herbage and willows and alders growing on the margins of streams and marshes. It is widely distributed, and, where suitable localities exist, may be looked for with some confidence. In most districts it is known as the reed-sparrow, and in its colouring and general appearance it is undoubtedly more sparrow-like than the other buntings. From its black head, which is very conspicuous by contrast with the white collar, it is often called the black-headed bunting, a name which more properly belongs to a continental species to be noticed later on as an accidental visitor to this country. The male is a persistent singer in the spring months, and, perched near the top of a reed, or on the topmost branch of an alder tree, he will repeat at intervals his slight reedy song of four or five notes, the last somewhat prolonged. If disturbed, he will fly a little distance ahead and perch again; and this action he will repeat two or three times if followed up; then, doubling back, he will return to the first spot. He is a sprightlier bird than the other buntings. The slender reed-stems he perches on, which bend and sway beneath the slightest weight, have taught him easier and more graceful motions, although in that respect he cannot compare with the bearded tit.

The nest is made near the water, on or close to the ground, under a bush or bunch of rushes, and is composed of dry grass and leaves and stems of aquatic plants, and lined with fibrous roots and horsehair. The eggs are four or five in number, in ground-colour dull white or grey, spotted and streaked with purplish brown and dull grey.

The reed-bunting remains in this country all the year, but in severe weather leaves the wet, low ground, and is then seen among the flocks of mixed finches in fields and in the neighbourhood of farmhouses.

Snow-Bunting.
Plectrophanes nivalis.

Head, neck, portion of the wings and under parts white; upper parts black, tinged here and there with red. In winter the white of the head and the black on the back mixed with reddish brown. Female: the white on the head and upper parts mottled with dusky, and her colours not so pure. Length, six inches and three-quarters.

The snow-bunting, or snowflake, as it is also called, breeds regularly in some localities in the Highlands of Scotland, and may therefore be regarded as an indigenous species; but the birds breeding within British limits are only a few pairs, and the snow-bunting is best known as a winter visitor from more northern regions. They appear on our coasts in the month of October, sometimes in immense flocks, to pass the winter, for the most part in the neighbourhood of the sea, seeking their food in fields and on waste lands. Occasionally these flocks penetrate to the more inland districts. Being very pretty and lively little birds, they are great favourites in the places they visit; and their appearance is all the more welcome on account of the desolate aspect of nature in the districts where they are most abundant. Many ornithologists have written lovingly about the snow-bunting. Thus, Saxby says: ‘Seen against a dark hillside or a lowering sky, a flock of these birds presents an exceedingly beautiful appearance, and it may then be seen how aptly the term “snowflake” has been applied to the species. I am acquainted with no more pleasing combination of sight and sound than that afforded when a cloud of these birds, backed by a dark grey sky, descends, as it were, in a shower to the ground, to the music of their own sweet, tinkling notes.’

The fullest, and by far the most interesting, account ever given of the snow-bunting is by Seebohm. He says that in its habits it is the most arctic of the small birds, breeding as far north as latitude 82° 33´. Its appearance is thus described: ‘In sledging over the snow across the steppes of South-western Siberia from Ekaterranburg to Tomsk, a distance of about a thousand miles, the snow-bunting was the only bird we saw, except a few sparrows, jackdaws, and hooded crows near the villages. The snow-buntings were in small flocks, and many of them had almost lost their winter dress. It was a charming sight to watch them flitting before the sledge, as we disturbed them at their meals. Sometimes, in the sunshine, their white bodies were invisible against the white snow, and we could almost fancy that a flock of black butterflies was dancing before us. The flight of the snow-bunting is peculiar, and is somewhat like that of a butterfly, as if the bird altered its mind every few seconds as to which direction it wished to take.’

Of its song he says: ‘Whilst the female is busy with the duties of incubation the male sings freely, sometimes as he sits upon the top of a rock, but often flinging himself into the air like a shuttlecock, and then descending in a spiral curve, with wings and tail expanded, singing all the time. The song is a low and melodious warbling, not unlike that of the shore-lark.’

The nest is placed in crevices of rocks, and is made of dry grass, roots, and moss, lined with root-fibres, hair, wool, and feathers. Five or six, sometimes seven, eggs are laid, in ground-colour greyish white or pale blue, spotted and blotched with reddish brown, with under-markings of pale brown and pale grey.

The young are fed on the larvæ of gnats. In winter the snow-buntings feed on seeds of grass and weeds.

Besides the five buntings described, five more species figure in the list of British birds, and these may now be briefly noticed:—

Black-headed bunting (Emberiza melanocephala), inhabiting South-eastern Europe; a single specimen has been obtained in this country.

Ortolan bunting (Emberiza hortulana).—A summer visitor to Europe. Several specimens have been obtained in the British Islands, mostly in the south and east of England.

Rustic bunting (Emberiza rustica).—Breeds in North-eastern Europe and Northern Siberia. A rare straggler to Britain.

Little bunting (Emberiza pusilla), from North-eastern Europe and Siberia. Has been taken once in England.

Lapland bunting (Calcarius lapponica).—A circumpolar species breeding in the arctic regions. Occasionally straggles to this country.

Starling.
Sturnus vulgaris.

Black with purple and green reflections, the upper feathers tipped with pale buff; under tail-coverts edged with white; beak yellow; feet flesh-colour tinged with brown. Female: spotted below as well as above. Young: uniform ash-brown, unspotted. Length, eight and a half inches.


A compactly built bird with a short, square tail, strong legs and feet, and a long, sharp beak, the starling does not excel in beauty of figure or grace of carriage; his lines are rather indicative of strength; he looks what he is—a plodding digger in the meadows and pastures, a hardy bird of rook-like habits, able to stand all weathers. But he has a beautiful coat. As in the case of the large corvine species he so frequently associates with when feeding, his richly coloured plumage has a gloss which causes it to shine at times like polished metal in the sunlight. The starling has an added distinction in the spangling of white and buff on the upper parts.

During the greater portion of the year his food consists almost entirely of insects in their different stages. Like the rook, he searches at the roots of the grass for worms and grubs; and there is no doubt that he deserves his reputation of one of the farmer’s feathered helpers. He attends the sheep and cattle in the meadows, and is often seen perching on their backs; the animals take it quietly, and perhaps know that he is on the look-out for ticks, which are a source of irritation to them.

Although a digger and plodder, the starling is very different from his companion, the rook, in manner. The rooks are seen soberly marching about, quartering the ground, each one intent on finding something for himself. The starlings are not nearly so methodical; they run about a great deal on the feeding-ground, and watch and interfere with each other. When one by chance finds a rich treasure, the others are eager to share it, and there are occasional scolding matches, and sometimes downright quarrelling, among them.

The starling is also a fruit-eater, particularly of cherries; and in winter, when insect food is scarce, he will eat berries, seeds, and grain, and, like the blackbird and blue tit, may be easily attracted to the house with scraps of animal food.

The nesting habits of the starling contribute to make it one of our most familiar birds. He breeds in holes, and a hole in a tree or rock, in a cliff or quarry, suits him very well; but he more often finds a suitable place under the eaves of a house, or in a barn, or church-tower, or other building; and, unless disturbed, he will continue to use the same site year after year. As early as January the starlings begin to pay occasional visits to the breeding-site, but they do not build until April. The nest is composed of a large quantity of dry grass, small twigs, moss, and other materials, and is sometimes lined with wool or feathers. Four to seven eggs are laid—five being the usual number—of a delicate pale greenish blue colour, and unspotted.

The starling sings more or less all the year, but his song is at its best in the spring months. He has no such melodious notes as distinguish the warblers; his merit lies less in the quality of the sounds he utters than in their endless variety. In a leisurely way he will sometimes ramble on for an hour, whistling and warbling very agreeably, mingling his finer notes with chatterings and cluckings and squealings, and sounds as of snapping the fingers and of kissing, with many others quite indescribable. On account of this variety of language he has always been reputed a mimic; but he does not mock as the mocking-bird does: he never reproduces the song of any other songster. Notes and phrases, and calls and alarm-notes, he has apparently picked up, and, listening, you recognise this or that species; but the imitations are seldom perfect, and in the end you are almost inclined to believe that he is called a mimic only because his variety is so great.

After the breeding season the young and old birds feed together in the pastures, where they unite with other families; and the flocks thus formed, as they increase in size, extend their wanderings over the surrounding country. Like rooks, they have favourite roosting-places, to which they return annually; these are reed and osier beds, thickets of holly and other evergreens, and fir-plantations. But they are not so constant in their attachment to one locality as the rook. They are more vagrant in their habits, and shift their ground, and migrate, and their numbers may vary greatly from year to year in the same district. In a district where they are abundant, they are seen at the end of each day gathering from all directions to the roosting-place; and it is then that the ‘cloud of starlings’ may be seen at its best, and it is certainly one of the finest sights that bird life presents in England. At intervals, after the birds have been steadily pouring in their flocks for a couple of hours, the whole vast concourse rises, and, seen from a distance, the flock, composed of tens and hundreds of thousands, may then be easily mistaken for a long black cloud suspended above the wood. In a few moments it is seen to grow thin, as the flock scatters, until it almost fades away. Suddenly it darkens again; and so on, alternately, the form, too, changing continually, now extending to an immense length across the sky, like a long bar of vapour, and now gathered into a huge oval or oblong black mass; and by-and-by the cloud again empties itself into the trees, and the sky is clear once more. These evolutions are repeated many times, until, as the evening draws on, the birds finally settle down in their places, but not to sleep; for an hour longer the wood is filled with an indescribable noise—a tangle of ten thousand penetrative voices, all together whistling, chattering, scolding, and singing.

We have but one starling; an allied species, the beautiful rose-coloured pastor (Pastor roseus), which breeds in Western Asia, is an irregular visitor to all parts of England.

Chough.
Pyrrhocorax graculus.