The Zoologist/4th series, vol 2 (1898)/Issue 680/Notes and Queries
NOTES AND QUERIES.
AVES.
Wagtails eating Trout.—Both the Pied and Yellow Wagtails (Motacilla lugubris and M. raii) have been observed to take Trout fry. They regularly frequent the nursery ponds here in the spring. Each pond is fitted with a fine screen of perforated zinc at its outlet, which collects a considerable amount of floating matter, consisting for the most part of aquatic and other plants. Amongst this floatage a good many insects occur, and these naturally prove an attraction to the birds. Occasionally, however, a small Trout gets too near the screen, and is washed on it by the current, when the Wagtails take advantage of such an occurrence to secure the fish and to devour it. I need hardly say that they are made welcome to any fish they take in this way, as no one here would think of molesting them. The habit, however, seems worth recording.—J.J. Armistead (Solway Fishery, Dumfries).
The Kingfisher in Surrey.—When so much is written about the extermination of Alcedo ispida in England, it is pleasant to be able to record that this bird is frequently to be seen so near London as Surrey. The Kingfisher still exists on the Wey and the Mole, the two chief rivers in the county, as well as on their smaller tributaries. About three winters ago I saw a specimen on the river Mole at Cobham; in October, 1897, another on the Pip-brook near Dorking; in the same month another at Bramley, near Guildford, in the valley of the Wey. On the Tillingbourne stream, which rises on Leith Hill and flows westward into the Wey, I have frequently seen Kingfishers; several times near Abinger Hammer, and in May, 1896, at Shere. There is a certain pond in the valley where I suspect a pair nested last season, for I made several expeditions to see them, and was generally rewarded. I am inclined to think that this species has increased in the county these last years; certainly I do not remember having ever seen so many. Can we attribute this to the Wild Birds Protection Acts? A correspondent of the 'Field' recently reported that a pair of Kingfishers had for some time frequented the lake in Battersea Park, a very uninviting part of Surrey one would think. It would be interesting to know whether the birds are still to be seen there.—Harold Russell (Shere, Guildford, Surrey).
[The bird is also to be seen on the Wandle.—Ed.]
Hobby nesting in Hants.—In reference to the note on this subject (ante, p. 24), I many years ago knew of a pair of Falco subbuteo nesting in the county not far from Stockbridge. The eggs were hatched in the nest of a Magpie, from which I subsequently took one of the young birds, which became very tame, and made a most interesting pet. It lived for several years, but was at last pounced upon by a cat when resting after a heavy meal, and although it succeeded in driving off the enemy, it was mortally wounded in the fray, one of the cat's claws having punctured the skull, as was found on dissection afterwards. The bird was very fond of insects, which formed a portion of its food.—J.J. Armistead (Solway Fishery, Dumfries).The Sanderling in Australia.—Referring to my note in 'The Zoologist' (1895, p. 236) on the occurrence of the Sanderling (Calidris arenaria) in Australia, I can now further record having seen and handled specimens of this bird, shot in the vicinity of Point Cloates, as follows:—Sept. 22nd, 1895, one shot by myself; Dec. 30th, 1895, one shot by the Rev. Dr. Maclean; Dec. 12th, 1896, two shot by myself; and Nov. 5th, 1897, two shot and skinned by myself, and forwarded to the Perth Museum, West Australia. From these instances it would seem the bird is a regular visitant to these shores, as the average number of days in a year when I can spare time to walk on the beach with my gun does not exceed six. The Sanderlings shot were always in company with Turnstones and Little Sandpipers (Actodromas australis). I may also mention I shot, on Oct. 22nd last, a Barred-rumped Godwit and Allied Dotterel (Ochthodromus inornatus).—Thomas Carter (Point Cloates, West Australia).
Eggs of the Roseate Tern.—Mr. Grabham's remarks in 'The Zoologist' (1897, p. 510) respecting the eggs of Sterna dougalli, I unfortunately did not see until yesterday (Jan. 12th). As Mr. Grabham lives in or near the same city as I do, I am sorry he did not arrange to see my eggs of the Roseate Tern before stating he could not diagnose between the eggs of that Tern and those of allied species, and I feel sure had he seen my specimens he would not have made that declaration. I have conversed with other clever, if not eminent oologists respecting the eggs of this species, and they held the same opinion as Mr. Grabham evidently does, until they saw my series, when they were convinced as to their distinctness; and I shall be pleased to show Mr. Grabham my series. In forming my opinion I do not altogether rely upon the specimens in my possession. I will offer to make the attempt to pick out the Roseate Tern's eggs from a large drawer in which are placed two or three genuine eggs of that Tern among a large number of eggs of the Common and Arctic Terns, and I have little fear of being unsuccessful; but I must stipulate that the eggs are not what are called authentic American-taken specimens. Mr. Howard Saunders, in a letter to me, admits that he has never seen any Roseate Terns' eggs taken in the Old World that run into some of the variations, &c, of Arctic Terns: "that is (he says), there is no bluish or greenish ground, and the shape is decidedly more elongated; but American eggs taken by men of good repute so far were not so distinct." I, like Mr. Grabham, have seen very elongated eggs of the Arctic Tern, but I should not mistake them for Roseate's. In my last note to 'The Zoologist' on this subject I put a? after "late" when referring to the Rev. J.C. Atkinson, whom I am very pleased to hear is still hale and hearty.—E.G. Potter (14, Bootham Crescent, York).
On the reported Summer Appearance of two Species of Birds in Lapland.—In answer to Prof. Collett (Zool. ante, p. 25), I can only say that to the best of my belief the birds in question were what Mr. Wollaston and myself reported them to be, namely, Bernicla brenta and Phalaropus fulicarius. We spent a long time watching the Geese, which were at no great distance from us, and we both had field-glasses. Mr. Wollaston went to the other side of the lake, and tried to drive the birds towards me, while I hid with the gun; but they would not move from the middle of the water. From the fact that they did not attempt to fly, it seems not improbable that the young birds were unable to do so. The Phalaropes were a great deal nearer to us, and we identified them as we did the Geese, while the birds were still before us, with the help of the 'Handbook of European Birds,' written by Mr. Backhouse. It is quite possible that the Phalaropes were on migration, as the date on which we saw them was Aug. 9th. Short of actually shooting them, I do not think we could have been more careful about the identification; and the picture of the Phalaropes with the other birds by that pool at Kautokeino has been so often in my mind since that I cannot help feeling glad we did nothing to disturb it.—Herbert C. Playne (Clifton College).
At what Hour of the Day do Birds most usually lay their Eggs?—It would be interesting, I think, to have on record the experiences of readers of 'The Zoologist' on this subject. It is almost a certainty that birds do not lay during the night, but rather in the early morning. My own experience is to this effect. However, I have known isolated cases where the daily egg must have been deposited late in the forenoon. I should say the most usual time, restricting the actual limits as much as possible, is between six and seven o'clock; that is, provided we take the month of May as a typical egg-laying month. I may explain my proof of this. In my morning walks, while living in the country, I have gone round those nests I happened to know of, between the hours of eight and nine, and found an additional egg deposited in every one. But on one specially fine morning in May, of which I have clear recollection, T went out at five o'clock to find that not a single egg had been laid. Neither were the birds to be seen about any of the nests. I need not say that before I went out there had been about two hours of broad daylight. This experience of the habits of birds was new to me at that time, and I have not hitherto seen anything touching upon the matter in any of the journals.—J.W. Payne (Edinburgh).
Popular Fallacies concerning the Cuckoo.—A propos of the paragraph which appeared on this question in 'The Zoologist' for November (1897, p. 512), perhaps you may consider the Northumbrian version of this rhyme of sufficient interest for insertion. Although it does not differ materially from that in use in the midlands, several little dissimilarities will be noticed. Thus:—
"The Cuckoo is a pretty bird,
She whistles as she flies;
She brings us good tidings,
And tells us no lies.
She sucks little birds' eggs
To make her voice clear,
And never says 'cuckoo'
Till summer is near."
This is well known to, and repeated by, almost every school-boy in these parts; another equally popular rhyme being: —
"In Aperill she shows her bill,
In May she sings both night and day,
In June she changes her tune,
In July away she must fly,
In August go she must."
The reference to the departure in August must be taken as applying to old birds only (and those are they which sing), for young ones remain with us several weeks longer; but how true is the allusion to the change in the song as summer advances! and how admirably is that change expressed in Heywood's lines:—
"In Aprill the Koocoo can sing her song by rote,
In June of tune she cannot sing a note;
At first koo-coo, koo-coo, sing still she can do,
At last kooke, kooke, kooke; six kookes to one koo."
The "sucking of little bird's eggs" is generally accepted in the north, and I think rightly so, though positive evidence upon the point is always difficult to obtain when wanted. To instance a single case within my own experience, I may mention that one day, a good many years ago, I recollect seeing a Cuckoo under circumstances which left no doubt upon my mind that she was guilty. I was lying concealed in a boggy bit of ground watching for a Water Rail, when a Cuckoo flew out of a bush near by, and settled upon a post and rail which filled up a gap in the hedge. Not being on the alert for proof of egg-eating, I did not pay particular attention to the Cuckoo, and could not say whether or no she carried an egg with her; but on visiting the spot afterwards I certainly did find the recently broken shell and part of the albumen of a Blackbird's egg upon the top of the post where she had been sitting, and in the bush from whence she came was a Blackbird's nest containing three fresh eggs. Had a closer watch been kept upon the Cuckoo no doubt I should actually have witnessed her eat the egg, and perhaps also carry it from the nest; but unfortunately the chance was missed, and such opportunities do not recur every day.
Another trait in the habits of the Cuckoo, which seems sometimes to be doubted, is that she lays her egg upon the ground, and afterwards deposits it with her bill in the nest which she has chosen; but upon our Border moors, where the Meadow Pipit, or "Cheeper," as it is called, is by far the most frequent foster-parent to the young Cuckoo, the fact has long been known to that most observant race of men, the hill-shepherds. I have indeed frequently heard it asserted by these men that if you see a Cuckoo being closely pressed by a Cheeper, which seems particularly angry, while the Cuckoo flies silently and low, you may be certain that she has an egg in her mouth, and is seeking an opportunity of placing it in the Pipit's nest. The natural inference drawn is that the Pipit hopes by her attack to make the Cuckoo drop or break her egg. Should the latter succeed in safely depositing the egg in the nest, no further molestation is offered her; while it is said that she frequently utters her chattering notes as she flies off, as though chuckling to herself over her success.
The following rhyme is also well known upon the Borders, though perhaps scarcely so often heard as the two above quoted:—
"The Cuckoo comes in mid March,
And cucks in mid Aprill;
And gangs her ways at Lammas-tide,
When the corn begins to fill."
March is so exceptionally early for the arrival of the Cuckoo that it is curious to find that month so often alluded to in these old rhymes, particularly in north-country ones. In very forward springs, however, the always welcome notes have been heard in Northumberland by the first week in April, and, in 1896, so early as March 25th; while in that year a Cuckoo was recorded as having been heard in Berwickshire on Feb. 20th—"a unique record for Scotland"—and apparently believed in!
Another "popular fallacy" concerning the Cuckoo was that it hybernated, and this also has been reduced to rhyme:—
"Seven sleepers there be—
The Bat, the Bee, the Butterflee,
The Cuckoo, and the Swallow,
The Kittiwake, and the Corncrake,
All sleep in yon little hollow."
But the subject is inexhaustible, and I shall only quote one more of these rhymes and have done; premising, for the benefit of south-country readers, that however oddly the vernacular may read, the rhythm is good when it comes from the lips of a native:—
"In Mairch, gin ye sairch, ye may find a Cuckoo,
But it's April afore ye can hear her;
When wor weel inte May, she sings night an' day,
Wi' a voice that graws clearer an' clearer.
Come in June, very soon she'll alter her tune,
An' cry kook, kook, kook, kook-coo,
Wi' a kind o' a chetter, which, gin ye come at her,
Ye'll find is the out-comes o' two.
By Julee, o'er the sea she's preparin' to flee,
An' man stairt, or the wether gets cader;
In August gan she must, an' her young man jist trust
To the Cheeper, until they get ader.
An' dod its gey queer, how the time o' the year
The young be ther sells can remember,
But whatsever the cause, maist a' body knaws
They'll a' be away wi' September."
—George Bolam (Berwick-on-Tweed).
Cuckoos sucking Eggs.—I must express my indebtedness to Mr. J.H. Gurney for his very interesting paper in the December issue of 'The Zoologist' (1897, p. 568). I quite accept the evidence he has tendered on the question at issue. I am equally of opinion with Mr. Gurney that to describe Cuckoos as habitually sucking eggs by choice is misleading. When I originally alluded to Cuckoos sucking eggs as a popular fallacy, I of course had in my mind not a few peccadilloes of this kind on the part of individual Cuckoos, but a very generally entertained belief amongst humble folk who have frequently accounted to me for broken eggs in nests early on in April by saying, "Ah! that's the Cuckoo's work." To such and sundry it is of little moment that Cuculus canorus seldom proclaims its presence in this country much before the middle of April.—H.S. Davenport (Ormandyne, Melton Mowbray).
PISCES.
Fishes of Great Yarmouth.—I read with great pleasure in the December issue of 'The Zoologist' (1897, p. 539) Mr. Patterson's long and interesting list of the Fishes of Great Yarmouth. There is, however, one point I wish to pass a remark upon, viz. in speaking upon Scorpæna dactyloptera he says: "Found a specimen of this rare British fish (the second for Great Britain) in a shrimper's catch on April 29th, 1894." This species is of quite frequent occurrence along the east coast of Scotland. I have seen them in the Aberdeen market many times within the past twenty years, often in dozens at a time, and on several occasions from 1 to 4½ cwt, the latter being on July 9th, 1890. For observations on this species I would refer Mr. Patterson to the 'Annals of Scottish Natural History' for October, 1893.—George Sim (52, Castle Street, Aberdeen).