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Introductory — Part 2

In reading over the works of well-known ornithologists it is surprising to see how very little has been written about birds during the breeding season. The time occupied in nest-building; the period of incubation; the appearance and habits of the young at different ages; how long they remain in the nest, and so on--these and the many other facts which give each species and each bird family definite individuality, though they are of the utmost interest, have been to a great extent ignored. It is difficult to realise why this is. Of course it requires great patience and plenty of time to get accurate data of this sort; but there are thousands of enthusiastic nature students, and particularly bird students, nowadays, and the difficulties only make it all the more important that every one who is really interested should endeavour to add all possible information that may be of value. And right here let me say that all original and authentic notes--and only these--are valuable.

Eggs of different birds of the same species, and indeed of the same bird, vary greatly both in colour, markings, and size, yet it is not at all necessary that every one should collect a large series to show such variations. Such collections may be found in museums when needed for comparison. Therefore I should say: Leave the egg where it belongs--in the nest--and visit it frequently (using all due caution against disturbing the owner even in this), making notes of anything of interest you may happen to see. You will be surprised at the number of things you will find that will prove of real interest, and you will surely be glad after your first experiment of this sort that you did not destroy the eggs, and with them your opportunity of gaining such an insight into the domestic life of Mrs. Robin Redbreast or Jenny Wren.

Last summer, while walking through the woods, I found a yellow-billed cuckoo's nest containing two eggs, which showed that incubation was far advanced. It was three days before I had another chance to visit the nest. During this interval the young had hatched, and when I saw them they were little naked objects with but the first beginnings of pin feathers showing. Unfortunately, I did not know their exact age (as you can see, notes should be exact down to days and hours), but as I visited them day by day I noticed how the feathers grew. Instead of breaking through the envelopes gradually, as do the feathers of other birds, the little cuckoo's feathers remained sheathed and finely pointed until the day before the birds left the nest. Then in twenty-four hours every envelope burst, and the bird was completely feathered, with no trace of the sheathing except at the base of the tail. Had I taken the eggs I should not have been able to note this fact (which I have not been able to find any record of in the books) or to secure the amusing photograph which is reproduced further on.

While I deprecate the taking of eggs as being in most cases entirely unnecessary, I should strongly advise both boys and girls to look for nests. It will be a means of developing a love of nature in one of its most attractive forms, and it will stimulate the powers of observation and add to the knowledge of birds in striking degree.

The love of nature in any form is an acquisition well worth striving for. Besides adding enormously to one's interest in a walk, whether on the high road or along the woodland paths, it is a resource which would do a great deal towards banishing that silly phrase, "I wish I had something to do." How often do we hear people say that, even when living in the country where wild life in its thousands of different phases exists all around them, unnoticed by all except the very few who are devoting themselves to some particular study. Unfortunately the power of observation is lacking in most of us who have not been trained to it--we look without seeing. Mr. Burroughs says that "some people seem born with eyes in their heads, and others with buttons or painted marbles, and no amount of science can make the one equal to the other in the art of seeing things." But even those who by ill-fortune are born without keen eyes can by constant practice cultivate the faculty of observing to a surprising degree.

That so little is known about the common birds is a good illustration of this lack of seeing; even birds as conspicuous as the Baltimore oriole, the cardinal, or the scarlet tanager are as remote as birds of paradise to many people who live in the country. I have heard men and women ask whether these birds, which they had just seen as mounted specimens in some museum, were from South America or some other tropical country. They were much surprised when told how common these and others of equally brilliant plumage are within a few miles of New York City.