Nests and Eggs of Familiar British Birds Part 1

Nests and Eggs of Familiar British Birds.

by Henry Gardiner Adams.

INTRODUCTION.

WHAT IS AN EGG?

It may at first strike our young readers that this is a question very easily answered; if they think so, let them try what sort of an answer they can give to it, and if they break down in the definition, we will endeavour to help them, as we are told in the old fable, Jupiter did the waggoner; but it is best for young people to _try_, and, for that matter, old people too; let them never believe that they _can't_ do a thing--"where there's a will there's a way." Many a boy that will take a deal of pains, and incur no inconsiderable risk of life and limb, to climb up a tree after a bird's nest, finds it too much trouble to read and learn about the habits of the creature he is thus ready to deprive of its warm comfortable home and beautiful eggs. He cannot tell you, if you ask him, of what the nest is composed, nor how, nor when it was built, much less can he answer the question which we have just put to our readers,--

WHAT IS AN EGG?

"Well," we hear some one say, "an Egg is a thing of an oval shape, large or small, white or coloured and speckled, as the case may be; it has a sh.e.l.l which breaks if you knock it, because it is brittle; and inside is a yellow substance called the yolk, surrounded by a white, clear liquid; if you boil it for a little time it becomes _set_, so that you can take it up in a spoon, and in this state it is good to eat. Oh! very good, I like an egg, especially for breakfast, with a little salt; and then eggs, and other things with them, make custards, and pancakes, and puddings, and all sorts of nice things; and then I recollect some such funny '_Stanzas to an Egg by a Spoon_,' which begin,

'Pledge of a feathered pair's affection, Kidnapped in thy downy nest, Soon for my breakfast--sad reflection!

Must thou in yon pot be drest.'"

Well, never mind the rest. Now listen to our definition of an Egg. The word itself, we may observe first of all, is of Saxon origin; that this is how the ancient dwellers on our island used to write it aeg, you may call it _aeg_ or _oeg_, which you like. Johnson says the term means, "That which is laid by feathered and some other animals, from which their young is produced;" it is also, we are told by the same authority, "the sp.a.w.n or sperm of other creatures," as fish, which are said, you know, not to lay eggs, but to _sp.a.w.n_. Another dictionary-maker defines it to be "the _ovum_ of birds," giving us here the Latin for egg, hence that peculiar shape is called _oval_, and the science of eggs is sometimes termed

OVOLOGY.

As we have told you in the first volume of this series, _Oology_ is another term for this science, which has occupied the attention of many learned men, who have gone deeper into Eggs than ever you or I shall, and told us such strange things about them, as would scarcely be believed by the very hens that laid them. Little does the happy mother think, when she goes cackling about the yard, proclaiming the event, that she has produced such a wonderful object. It looks a simple affair enough, one might make a thing very like it with a piece of chalk; touch it, roll it about; boil it, eat it, or crack it, and let the inside flow out; there's the yellow, and there's the white; there's nothing very particular in that, all eggs are so. Well, who made them so? and of what _are_ they made? and what reason is there for this peculiar arrangement of the different parts of an Egg? and how is it that, under certain circ.u.mstances, so complete a change should take place in the nature of its contents--that the fluids should be gradually absorbed into a solid body, and that, by and by, at the end of a period which can be calculated to a nicety, the sh.e.l.l should be burst open, and there should come forth a living creature? Truly this _is_ wonderful; but we are surrounded by wonders, and only heed them not because they are so common.

_Common_ is the vital air, _Common_ is the azure sky, _Common_ flowers are everywhere, _Common_ stars shine out on high: Music of the forest bird, Cometh without stint or measure, Friendly smile and loving word, _Common_ are as joy and pleasure; Why from _common_ things then turn, And for the _uncommon_ yearn?

But about this common thing, an Egg? It is the germ or seed, so to speak, of animal life; in it is contained all that is necessary for the formation of the perfect living creature; in that little oval case lie snugly packed up, bones, and muscles, and sinews, and all the delicate parts, organs, as they would be called, from a Greek word signifying an instrument, thus the tongue is an organ of speech, the eye of sight, and so on. But all these organs are in an _undeveloped_ state, as the flower is in the bud; develope is a French word, and signifies to unroll, or unfold. The animal is there in _embryo_; this again is Greek, and means a thing unperfected, or unfinished, so the poet Thompson says:--

"While the promised fruit Lies yet a little _embryo_ unperceived, Within its crimson folds."

And so with closer reference to our subject, we might say,

While the promised bird Lies yet a little _embryo_ unperceived, Within its oval sh.e.l.l.

Dr. Harvey, who made that great discovery, the circulation of the blood, uttered a truth when he said _omne animal ex ovo_, every animal is born of an egg, for although some animals are _oviparous_, and others _viviparous_,--the two words come from _ovum_ egg, _vivum_ life, and _pario_ to bring forth--yet may the first stage of all animal life be compared to an Egg. From the smallest insect up to the most huge and unwieldy creature that swims in the deep sea, or walks upon the land.

All were at one time alike, mere specks, surrounded by fluid matter, which afforded the material for growth and nourishment, and enclosed in some kind of a case, which if not exactly like an egg sh.e.l.l, answers the same purpose of protection from injury.

What a vast difference is there between the bright-winged insect, whose history we traced in our volume on b.u.t.terflies, and the bird with downy plumage and the voice of melody; between that again and the great crocodile, in his scaly coat of mail; the mighty boa constrictor, king of serpents; or that tyrant of the deep, the fierce voracious shark; and yet all these come from Eggs, very similar in form, and precisely so in their nature and internal construction. Look too at the difference in size, between the egg of the Humming Bird, no bigger than a pea, and that of the Ostrich, as large as a man's head nearly, or bigger still that of the Epyornis, of which fossil remains have been found in Madagascar, the contents of which must have been equal to six ostrichs', or one hundred and forty-eight common hens' eggs, that is about seventeen English pints; and yet in all these the germ, or as it would be called, the vital principle, that is, the principle of life, is but a tiny speck, or circle, which is attached to the membrane that surrounds the yellow portion, or yolk; it is from this that the animal in embryo derives nourishment, and the size of it, and consequently of the whole egg, is in proportion to the quant.i.ty that is required to sustain life, until the protection of the sh.e.l.l is no longer necessary.

There is only so much food stored up as the bird, or reptile, or whatever it may be, requires before it is strong enough to make an opening in its prison, and come forth to provide for itself, or be fed by the parent. Some creatures that eventually attain a large size are born, or _hatched_, as it is termed, comparatively small; thus the size of the egg is not always in proportion to that of the animal which lays it; the crocodile's egg, for instance, is but little larger than that of the common fowl; the young comes forth like a small lizard, about two or three inches long, takes to the water at once, and begins to catch insects on its own account; its mother may be twenty or thirty feet in length. Most creatures that produce eggs small in proportion to their size lay a great many; this is especially the case with fish, whose _sp.a.w.n_ must be numbered by millions: it has been calculated that if the young of a single pair of herrings were suffered to breed undisturbed, they would in twenty years together make up a bulk six times the size of the earth; but so many creatures feed upon this sp.a.w.n, that few of the eggs of which it is composed ever come to young fish, that is comparatively few, for the vast shoals which every year visit our sh.o.r.es, for the purpose of depositing their sp.a.w.n in shallow water, shew that immense numbers must escape the dangers to which they are exposed. There are some fish of the fierce and rapacious kind, such as the Ray, the Dog-fish, and the Shark, which attain a considerable size before they lose the protection of the egg-sh.e.l.l, which is of a very peculiar shape and construction, being of a leathery texture, flat, and four-cornered, with a long curling string-like projection from each corner; frequenters of the coast, to whom they are very familiar objects, being often cast up on the beach, call them Mermaid's purses, and Fairy-purses, while the cl.u.s.tered Eggs of the Cuttle-fish they term Sea Grapes.

All eggs require warmth to hatch them; the fishes know this, not as we know it, because we have read, or been told so, and can _reason_ upon causes and consequences, and so understand _why_, but they know it _instinctively_; they possess, in common with all unreasoning creatures, what we call _instinct_, that is, a natural impulse to do in the right way, and at the proper time, whatever may be necessary for the maintenance of that state of existence in which G.o.d has placed them; so instinct directs the fishes when the time for sp.a.w.ning has arrived, to leave the deep waters, where they generally remain safe from the pursuit of man, for the sh.o.r.es, where the warmth of the sun can reach the eggs, and awaken the principle of life within them. So instinct teaches the bird to leave its winter home, in some far southern country, and fly hundreds of miles across land and ocean, to reach a spot suitable for the purpose of breeding and rearing its young; to collect the materials and to build its nest, and after the eggs are laid, to sit patiently on them the appointed time; to select the food proper for those little gaping bills, and to tend the fledglings carefully, until they are able to fly and provide for themselves, and then, when their wings are strong enough for the journey, and their food begins to get scarce, away they go back to the south of Europe, or Africa, straight as an arrow, and the young ones, which have never flown that way before, seem to know it as well as those which have been backwards and forwards, often and often.

But the egg, what of that? Can we describe its nature and construction in a way sufficiently clear for our readers to understand? Let us try:--it is like a series of cases or envelopes, one within the other; the outer one only, which is the last formed, being hard and unelastic, that is, it will not stretch or change its shape. Like the sh.e.l.ls of some fish, and other testaceous animals, it is composed of carbonate of lime, which the animal has the power of secreting, as it is called, from its food. Hens sometimes lay soft eggs, without a sh.e.l.l; this shews a deficiency of the secreting power, or a want of the necessary material, and may generally be remedied by mixing some chalk with the food, or scattering it about the yard. Next to the sh.e.l.l is a skin called the _membrana putaminis_, that means the membrane or skin of the sh.e.l.l; it has also a Greek name--_chorian_; it is divided into two layers, which separate at the larger end, and leave a s.p.a.ce called the _vesicula aeris_, that is, air vesicle, or little bladder; this contains the air necessary for the chick to breathe before it chips the sh.e.l.l. Enclosed in this membrane is the _alb.u.men_, or white fluid, sometimes called the _glair_, from the Latin _glarea_; in the same language _albus_ means white; and our readers who live in Albion, so called from her chalky cliffs, ought to see at once from whence we derive the word _alb.u.men_; the little chords by which this bag of fluid is suspended are called _chalaza_; this word comes from a Greek root, and has reference to the connection between the suspending chords and the germ, or spot, in which is the vital principle.

We now come to what may be called the provision bag, because it encloses the yolk, which serves as food for the animal in embryo; it is called _membrana vitelli_, or the skin of life. Thus our examination of the egg has brought to view the three great necessities of all existence--_protection_, the sh.e.l.l and alb.u.men; _nutrition_ or food, the yolk; and the _vital principle_, to understand the nature of which has puzzled the greatest philosophers that the world ever saw. It is said in the Scriptures that G.o.d breathed into man the breath of life, but what this may be we can none of us tell; it is given to us and we _live_, it is taken away from us and we _die_; and so do all G.o.d's creatures, which by Him, and Him alone, live, and move, and have their being. Man can do many wonderful things, but he has not yet been, nor will he ever be, able to make an egg, much less to produce a chick from it.

Let us now fancy that we are looking upon one of these strange little elongated globes, and that instead of being _opaque_, that is, dark--not clear, it is transparent, so that we can see into it, and observe the changes which are taking place there. The mother bird has been sitting on it for, say twelve hours, and the warmth of her body has called into action the principle of growth, or of vitality; the little spot and ring in the centre of the yolk have become somewhat enlarged and changed in form; they are no longer round, but the outline is irregular, shewing a tendency to shoot or spread out on all sides.

Four hours later shews them yet more enlarged, and getting into an oval shape, with a distinct, though somewhat broken line down the centre.

When the _incubation_ has lasted thirty-six hours, (for meaning of this word, see the first series of "Nests and Eggs,") there is a still greater increase in the germ, and a spreading of its mottled margin over a portion of the yolk; if at this stage of growth we examine it through a magnifying gla.s.s, we shall see a little body like some curious kind of caterpillar, and veins shaped like stags' horns branching out of it in every direction. On the fourth day the chick is a more strange-looking object still, with great projecting eyes with rings round them, like spectacles, and what appears to be a very blunt sort of a snout or muzzle; the whole head, and there is not much else, reminds one of that of a serpent, it might be the Cobra di Capello, or the Spectacle Snake, seen through a diminishing gla.s.s. But we cannot give a proper description of it, so we have called in the aid of our artist, who has furnished us, on the next page, with portraits of the interesting creature at four different stages of its growth. In the last we get a side view, and begin to fancy we discover some resemblance to a baby-fowl, although a very hideous one.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 36 hours.

4 days.

6 days.

10 days.]

All this time a great change has been going on in the whole interior of the egg; the chick has, of course greatly increased, and the red veins have become more numerous, and spread over the entire surface; the yolk is scarcely distinguishable from the other portions. Now, too, the bones of the chick have begun to form, and we clearly perceive the projection of the wings and the stump of the tail, while the pupil of the eye is quite clear and distinct. Larger and larger the creature grows, until it fills all the s.p.a.ce, and has to be doubled up in a very curious manner, with the feet and the head brought together, and the bill close to the sh.e.l.l, ready to be used as the instrument of liberation. Many persons suppose that the parent bird chips the sh.e.l.l, but this is not so, it is done by the little creature within, which has first to make its way through a thick membrane, or skin; this it does on the twenty-first day of incubation; we are speaking now of the common fowl, the periods in different species of birds vary considerably, although the process of growth in all is the same. One wonders how, with its soft bill, the little creature can make its way through the tough skin, and hard, though brittle sh.e.l.l; but it must be remembered that the elastic skin is stretched to its greatest extent, and when in this state, a slight p.r.i.c.k will make a large opening; and the sh.e.l.l, too, is no doubt, by the pressure from within, rendered less capable of resisting the stroke, slight though it be, of the bill of the prisoner, which does sometimes fail to make its escape, and dies in confinement, if not released by some friendly hand from without.

As if to a.s.sist in the work of opening a pa.s.sage to the light and air, there is found on the tip of the chick's bill a small h.o.r.n.y scale, having at the centre a hard and sharp projecting point, which, from the position of the head, is brought into direct and constant contact with the inner surface of the sh.e.l.l; this scale soon loosens and comes away after the chick is hatched, there is then no further use for it. The preceding figure represents the chick as it lies closely folded up on the twenty-first day, just previous to its deliverance from bondage.

We have now finished our account of this wonderful process, and may say in the words of a recent writer, "Dull indeed of soul must the man be, (or boy either,) in whom an egg does not inspire emotions of awe and admiration, wonder and worship. The circle of life is from the adult (fully-grown animal,) to the egg. This is the vital round--the beginning and the ending--the ending and the beginning. The wheel goes round continually, life kindling sparks of life; and what is called death is the worn-out forms becoming cold and decaying away."

HOW TO PRESERVE EGGS FOR THE CABINET.

For this purpose eggs which are newly laid should always be chosen, as any decomposition of the contents will, probably, cause a discolouration of the sh.e.l.l. Make a hole at the smaller end, with an awl, or some other pointed instrument, and another at the larger end, which should be as small as possible, merely a pin hole will do; to this latter the mouth must be applied to blow out the contents. If the yolk does not come out readily, get a cup full of water, and immersing the sharp end into it, put your mouth to the blunt end, and suck up some of the water into the sh.e.l.l, then shake it about well, and blow it out again; repeat this operation two or three times, if necessary. If the sh.e.l.l has got soiled in any way, wash it well in strong lather, using a nail-brush if the stains do not come off readily, but great care must be taken in the handling of so brittle and fragile an article. Now as the membrane which lines the sh.e.l.l would be likely to decompose, and render it offensive, if not injure its beauty, it is best to wash the inside with a solution of the bichloride of mercury, commonly called corrosive sublimate, in spirits of wine; this solution should be prepared by a chemist, and used with great caution, as it is extremely poisonous. Pour it into a winegla.s.s, and holding the egg firmly, yet tenderly, with the finger and thumb, which should not touch the liquid, put the smaller end therein; then apply the mouth, as previously directed, to the larger end, and suck up gently; cease doing so as soon as you are aware, by a cold sensation in the finger and thumb, that the liquid has entered the sh.e.l.l, which then take up by the two ends, so as to stop the orifice, and shake it well, then blow the solution back into the gla.s.s, taking care to wash the lips or the fingers if it comes in contact with either of them. The Oological specimen will soon dry, and is now ready for the cabinet. To render it more glossy and brilliant, it may have a coat of mastic varnish, put on thinly with a camel-hair brush, or, if the egg be of a blue or green tint, as many are, a solution of very pure white gum arabic is best, as the varnish is apt to injure those delicate colours.

As to the formation of the cabinet, and arrangement of the eggs therein, directions are scarcely necessary; this must depend very much upon the means and conveniences, as well as the taste of the collector.

Shallow drawers with divisions sufficiently broad for the names of the specimens to be written or pasted along the tops, are perhaps best.

Small pill-boxes, which may have the names on the lids, are not bad receptacles, and the cost of a few dozens of these is not much; but above all things let the arrangements be carried out with neatness and order; do not let the specimens be huddled together, but cla.s.sified, and placed so that the hand may be laid upon any one which may be required. Duplicates for exchanging with other collectors, or replacing any which may be broken, may be put carefully in a drawer by themselves, their presence with the others will only cause unnecessary confusion and trouble.

Care should be taken not to name a specimen positively, if there is any doubt of its ident.i.ty, it may be named with a query; and in the note-book, which every collector should keep, should be entered all the circ.u.mstances which weigh for or against the correctness of the designation given to it. This note-book ought to be a complete record of the time and place of acquisition of every specimen included in the collection, and of all that is curious or interesting connected with it. If nests as well as eggs are preserved, of course drawers with divisions are the very best receptacles; they occupy a great deal of s.p.a.ce, and, except in some cases where the structure is peculiarly neat or curious, it is perhaps scarcely worth while to take and preserve them, especially as doing so often involves a cruel spoliation of the feathered architects, whose carefully chosen situations for building are well described by Dr. Bidlake, in his "Walks in a Forest."

"The cavern-loving Wren sequester'd seeks The verdant shelter of the hollow stump; And with congenial moss, harmless deceit, Constructs a safe abode. On topmost boughs The glossy Raven, and the hoa.r.s.e-voiced Crow, Rock'd by the storm, erect their airy nests.

The Ouzel, lone frequenter of the grove Of fragrant pines, in solemn depths of shade Finds rest, or 'mid the holly's shining leaves; A simple bush, the piping Thrush contents, Though in the woodland concert he aloft Trills from his spotted throat a powerful strain, And scorns the humble choir. The Lark too asks A lowly dwelling hid beneath the turf, A hollow trodden by the sinking hoof: Songster of heaven! who to the sun such lays Pours forth as earth ne'er owns. Within the hedge The Sparrow lays her sky-blue eggs. The barn, With eaves o'er-pendent, holds the chattering tribe.

Secret the Linnet seeks the tangled copse.

The White Owls seek some ruin'd antique wall, Fearless of rapine; or in hollow trees, Which age has cavern'd, safely courts repose.

The thievish Pie, in twofold colours clad, Roofs o'er her curious nest with firm wreath'd twigs, And side-long forms her cautious door; she dreads The talon'd Kite, or pouncing Hawk, savage Herself, with craft suspicion ever dwells."

FACTS AND ANECDOTES OF NESTS AND EGGS.

EASTER EGGS.

During the fifteen days after Easter, which const.i.tute the Russian carnival, the people of that country supply themselves with eggs, variously coloured, which they send or give to one another as presents; and when they meet during this time they salute with the words, "Christ is risen;" to which the other having answered "He is certainly risen,"

they kiss one another. He that salutes first is obliged to present the other with an egg; no one, of whatever rank or s.e.x, being allowed to refuse either the egg or the kiss. This custom prevails in many Catholic countries; the eggs, it appears, being considered as an emblem of the resurrection.

EGGS USED AS COIN.

The want of any copper coin in Peru has given rise to a curious practice of which Lieutenant Maw was informed at Truxillo. A person coming to the market of that city, and not wishing to spend a real upon every article, purchases a real's worth of eggs, with which he or she proceeds to market; buying an egg's worth of vegetables from one, and so on from others, till all that was wanted has been obtained. The eggs are taken as current payment, and finally purchased themselves by those who require them for use.