CHAPTER X.
Moonlight.--Instinct and Reason.--Death's Head Moth.-- Bittern.--Water-rail.--Quail.--Golden Plover.-- Hen-Harrier and Weasel.--Preserving Bird-skins.
They anchored that night just inside Hoveton Great Broad. The moon roselarge and round, and lake and marsh slept still in her mellow light. Theboys sat on deck watching the reflection of the moon in the water, andlistening to the cries of the night-birds around them and the splash ofthe fish in the shallow margins. Dick said,--
"Is it not wonderful that the butterfly knows on which plant she is tolay her eggs? How does the swallow-tail know that she must lay them onthe wild carrot or on the meadow-sweet; the death's-head moth on thepotato; and the white butterfly on the cabbage? How is it that theyselect these plants, seeing that it is all strange and new to them? Itis very wonderful!"
"Yes," said Jimmy, "and it cannot be reason, because they can have nofacts to reason from, so it must be instinct."
"Well, I don't like talking anything like cant, and you won't accuse meof that if I say that it seems to me that instinct is a personalprompting and direction of God to the lower animals for their good, andI don't believe we think of that enough," said Dick.
MOONLIGHT SCENE.]
Frank replied,--"You are right, Dick, and while man has only reason,animals have instinct and reason too. At least I believe that the largerkind of animals have some share of reason. I have never told you aboutour colley bitch. Last year she had pups, and she was very much annoyedby a cat which would go prowling about the building where the bitch waskept; so the bitch took the opportunity of one day killing the cat. Nowthe cat had just had kittens, and all were drowned but one. When themother was killed, its kitten cried most piteously, and had to be fedwith milk by the servants. The bitch had not known that the cat hadkittens, until she heard the kitten scream, and then she showed asplainly as possible that she was sorry for what she had done, and tookthe kitten to her own young ones, and seemed quite fond of it. Wheneverit was taken away she would go for it and take it back again, and thekitten grew up with the pups, and was inseparable from them. Now I callthat reason on the part of the bitch, and the desire to make amends forthe injury she had done--But hark! what is that?"
A low booming sound not unlike the lowing of a bull, but more continued,resounded through the marsh and then ceased. Again the strange note washeard, and the boys looked at one another.
"What can it be?" said Jimmy, as the noise again quivered on the moonlitair.
DEATH'S-HEAD MOTH.]
"I know," said Frank, "it is a bittern. If we can only find its nest weshall be lucky. It does not often breed in England now, although it isoften shot here in winter. Let us listen where the sound comes from."
They listened intently, and after an interval the sound was againrepeated. They believed that it came from a reed-covered promontorywhich ran out into the broad on its eastern shore.
"Let us take the punt and go over," said Frank; so they rowed in thedirection of the sound. They rowed round the promontory, and penetratedit as far as they could, and all was still and silent, and theydiscovered nothing.
Early the next morning they renewed their search, and while they werecrashing through the very middle of the reed bed, the bittern rose witha hoarse cry, and flew away with a dull, heavy flight. And there, asgood luck would have it, was its nest, a large structure of sticks,reeds and rushes, and in it were four eggs, large, round, and pale brownin colour. It was not in human nature (or at least in boy nature) toresist taking all the eggs.
BITTERN.]
The bittern is a singular bird both in shape and habits. Take a heronand shorten its legs, neck, and beak, and thicken it generally, and thendeepen its plumage to a partridge-like brown, and you will have a prettygood idea of the bittern. At one time it was common enough in England,but the spread of cultivation, the drainage of the marshes, and thepursuit of the collector have rendered it rare; and while at someseasons it is pretty common all over the country where there are placesfit for its breeding-ground, in other years scarcely a specimen can beseen, and its nest is now but rarely found. Its curious note has oftenpuzzled the country people. It has been said to put its head under wateror into a hollow reed, and then to blow, and so make a noise somethinglike that produced by the famous blowing stone in the Vale of the WhiteHorse.
The fact, however, appears to be that the noise is produced in the usualmanner, and Morris says that the bittern "commonly booms when soaringhigh in the air with a spiral flight."
When suddenly surprised, its flight is more like that of a carrion crowwhen shot at in the air. If wounded, the bittern can defend itselfremarkably well, turning itself on its back, and fighting with beak andclaws. It cannot run well among the reeds, so when surprised it takesrefuge in flight, although it is not by any means a good flier; and asthe reeds grow too closely together for it to use its wings among them,it clambers up them with its feet, until it can make play with itswings. It is essentially nocturnal in its habits, hiding close among thereeds and flags by day.
Leaving Hoveton Broad, the boys sailed quietly down the river toRanworth Broad, without adventure. They turned from the river along thedyke which led to the broad, and with their usual enterprise they triedto take a short cut through a thin corner of reeds growing in about twofeet of water, which alone divided them from the broad. They stuck fast,of course; but their usual good fortune attended them, and turned theirmisfortune into a source of profit. A bird like a landrail, but smaller,flew from a thick clump of vegetation near them.
"Hallo, that is not a corn-crake, is it?" said Dick.
"No, but it is a water-crake, or water-rail rather, and I expect itsnest is in that clump," said Frank, and his shoes and stockings were offin a moment, and he was wading to the place whence the bird had flown.
"Yes, here it is, and there are eight eggs in it, very like alandrail's, but much lighter in colour and a little smaller. I say, ifwe hadn't seen the bird fly away we should never have found the nest, itis so carefully hidden. I shall take four eggs. They are not sat upon,and she will lay some more until she makes up her full number, so it isnot a robbery."
The water-rail is one of the shyest of water-birds. It creeps among theherbage like a rat, and is very difficult to put to flight. When it doesfly, its legs hang down as if it had not strength to hold them up, andit flies but slowly, yet during the winter time it migrates longdistances.
The boys spent but little time on the broad, for they were anxious toget further away from home; so, as there was a strong breeze from thewest, they ran before it as far as Acle, where they had to lower theirmast in order to pass under the old grey stone bridge.
WATER-RAIL.]
Leaving the yacht moored by the Hermitage Staithe, they walked to Filbyand Ormesby Broads, an immense straggling sheet of water with many armsabout three miles from the river. They hired a boat, and rowed about forsome time, seeing plenty of wild-fowl, but meeting with no adventureworth recording. The broad is connected with the river by a long dykecalled by the euphonious name of Muck Fleet, but it is not navigable,being so filled with mud and weeds. The growing obstruction of this dykeis an illustration of the process which is going on all over the Broaddistrict day by day. Formerly a much larger portion of it must have beenwater, but as the reeds grew they decayed, and the rotten matter formedsoil. This process was repeated year after year and is going on now. Thereeds extend each year and form fresh soil each winter, and so the partswhich were always very shallow become filled up, and the extent of marshincreases; and then, as the extent of marsh increases, it is drained andbecomes firm, and then is finally cultivated, and waving corn-fieldstake the place of what was once a lake, and then a marsh, and instead ofpike and wild-fowl there are partridges and pheasants.
On the way back to Filby the boys took it into their heads to have agame of 'follow my leader.' Frank was chosen as leader, and he led themstraight across-country, scorning roads and paths, and choosing thehardest leaps over dykes
and fences. Across a meadow Frank saw a verystiff thorn fence on the other side of which was a stubble-field.Collecting all his strength, he made a rush at it, but failing to clearit, his foot caught near the top, and he fell headlong into the nextfield. Dick followed his leader with commendable imitation, and sprawledon the top of him; but Jimmy could only breast the hedge, and sat downon the spot whence he had taken his spring. Dick was up again in amoment, but Frank remained kneeling on the ground with something betweenhis hands.
AFRICAN BUSH QUAIL.]
"What is it, Frank?" said Dick.
"A bird. I fell upon it. It was on its nest, and I have smashed three ofthe eggs, but there are five left."
Jimmy joined them, and asked what kind of a bird it was. It was a birdof about eight inches in length, grey in colour, plump, and with a shapewhich reminded them of the guinea-fowl. They looked at the poortrembling bird, and at its eggs, and came to the conclusion that it wasa quail, a supposition which turned out to be right. Quails, though raregenerally, were very common that year in Norfolk and Suffolk, and manynests were found, two more by the boys themselves. The nest is simply acollection of dry grass in a hollow in the ground.
Morris says of the quail:--
"Quails migrate north and south in spring and autumn, and vast numbersare taken by bird-catchers. As many as one hundred thousand are said tohave been taken in one day in the kingdom of Naples. Three thousanddozen are reported to have been purchased in one year by the Londondealers alone. They migrate in flocks, and the males are said to precedethe females. They are believed to travel at night. They arrive here atthe end of April or beginning of May, and depart again early inSeptember. Not being strong on the wing, yet obliged to cross the sea toseek a warmer climate in the winter, thousands are picked up by theshores on their arrival in an exhausted state; many are drowned on thepassage, and some are frequently captured on board of vessels met with_in transitu_."
I have seen them in poulterers' shops kept in large cages, until theyare wanted for the table, and they seemed to be quite unconcerned attheir captivity, feeding away busily.
Frank said,
"What shall we do with the bird? I've broken her wing, but I don't thinkshe's much hurt anywhere else."
"Here's some thin twine," said Dick. "Let us tie the bone to a splint ofwood with it, and the wing may heal."
They carried the suggestion out with great care, and the quail, on beingallowed to go, ran away with a drooping wing, but otherwise little theworse.
"I suppose we must take all the eggs," said Frank, "for she will notcome back to her nest now, as it is all wet with squashed egg."
"Those are not lapwings flying above us, are they?" said Dick.
"No, they are golden plovers. They are not half so pretty as thelapwings. They have no crest, and are much plainer in plumage, and theyhave more black on them. Look out for their nests in this marshy spot."
"Here is one," said Dick.
NEST OF GOLDEN PLOVER.]
"No, that is only a lapwing's, and in a very clever place too; the nestis made, or rather the eggs are placed on the top of a mud-hill, so thatwhen the water rises the eggs will be kept dry."
"Here is a golden plover's, then," said Jimmy, pointing to a depressionin the ground, in which were four eggs of the usual plover type, aboutthe same size as the lapwing's, but more blunt in outline, and lighterin ground colour.
"Yes, those are they. Take two of them."
It must not be supposed that I mention all the nests and eggs the boysfound in their rambles. Space forbids me to notice more than those whichare rare or unusual. For the nest of one rare or uncommon bird theyfound a dozen of the commoner sorts, for they were very quick observers.
The wind had fallen, and the water was as smooth as glass. Whileprowling about the margin, "seeking what they might devour," Dickstooped to pick a flower which grew by the water-side, and saw the headof a large eel protruding from the mud on the bank, about two or threefeet below the surface. He called his companions' attention to it, andon looking more closely they saw at intervals the heads of several more,which poked two or three inches out of the mud. If the water had notbeen so still and clear, they would not have been able to see them.
"What are they in that peculiar position for?" said Dick.
"Oh, it is a habit of theirs. They are taking it easy, and watching forany little nice morsel to float by them. When the evening comes theywill come out altogether. I will show you how to sniggle them."
"Do what?" said Dick.
"Wait and see, old man."
They went back to the Hermitage, and Frank borrowed a stocking-needlefrom a woman at the house. He next got some fishing-line from the yachtand whipped one end of it to the needle from the eye to the middle. Henext got a long pea-stick from the garden, and dug up some lob-worms,and then went to the mud-bank where the eels were.
Frank baited his tackle by running the head of the needle quite up intothe head of the worm, letting the point come out about the middle. Thenhe lightly stuck the point of the needle into the end of the stick, andwith the stick in one hand and the loose line in the other, he wentquietly to the side, and selecting an eel, he presented the worm to itsnose. The eel opened its mouth and took the worm in. Frank gently pulledthe stick away and slackened the line, and the eel swallowed the wormhead first. When it had disappeared down the eel's throat, Frank struck,and the needle, of course, stuck across the eel's gullet. Frank kept asteady hold upon him, and drew him out of his fastness inch by inch,until he was clear of the mud, and then he lifted him out of the water.It was a fine eel of two pounds in weight.
"Why, what grand fun that is!" said Dick. "Let me try," and soenthusiastically did he set to work, that in an hour's time he had goteight large eels.
They now went on board to make their fourth meal that day, it being thenhalf-past four o'clock. Afterwards they all wrote their letters home.
The next morning about nine o'clock they hoisted sail, and started,intending to reach Yarmouth that day. A strong breeze, almost amountingto a gale, blew from the west, and they were obliged to take in reefs inboth the main-sail and the mizen, and then they spun along at a verygood rate, the water foaming at their bows and surging in their wake.Above them and to the eastward the sky was blue and without a cloud, butin the west a huge black cloud was slowly rising. Against its gloom, thesunlit marsh, the windmills, and the white sails of the yachts stood outbrilliantly clear, and a number of gulls which were flying over themarsh shone out dazzlingly white against it.
"What bird is that? It is a hawk no doubt, but it looks so blue in thislight," said Jimmy, pointing over the marsh to where a large hawk wasflying in circles uttering screams, and every now and then swooping tothe ground.
Frank got out his glass and took a long look at it.
"It must be a hen-harrier," he said. "I can see it quite clearly. Itseems to be very angry with something on the ground. Run the yacht up inthe wind, Jimmy, and let us watch it."
"There is another harrier flying to join it as swift as the wind. It islarger and browner, and must be the female," said Frank, describingtheir movements as he saw them through the glass.
HEN-HARRIER.]
The second comer swooped down to the ground and rose with some longstruggling object in its talons which seemed to be a weasel or stoat.Frank then through his glass distinctly saw the weasel seize the hawk bythe throat, and the hawk, screaming wildly, rose high into theair--"towering," as a sportsman would say--until it was almost a speck,and its mate accompanied it, circling round it, and also uttering savagescreams. Then the hawk and weasel fell through the air, turning over andover, and came plump upon the marsh. The boys landed and went to thespot, while the other hawk slowly circled far out of sight. On reachingthe spot they found the hawk dead, and the weasel still alive butstunned. It was soon despatched, and they examined the beautiful hawkwhich had fallen a victim to its bravery. The weasel's jaws were stainedwith egg-juice, and not far off they found the hen-harrier's nest whi
chthe weasel had been rifling when the hawk attacked it. The nest wasbuilt on the ground, and was something like a coot's nest, large andstrong in structure. It contained four bluish eggs, two of which werebroken.
WEASEL.]
"I tell you what, Frank," said Jimmy, "we must stuff the hawk andweasel, and mount them just as they appeared in the air. It will make agrand group. I am sorry for the hawk, but it is a lucky find for us andour museum nevertheless."
In the meantime they skinned the hawk and weasel, and simply stuffedtheir skins with cotton-wool and laid them by in the locker. It is notnecessary to stuff birds in their natural attitude to preserve them fora cabinet. They may be loosely stuffed with cotton-wool and laid side byside in drawers and labelled, just like eggs, and if at any timeafterwards it is desired to set them up in life-like positions, theskins can be softened by letting them lie for a few days in a dampplace.
They sailed at a great rate down to Yarmouth, and brought up justoutside a row of wherries which were moored to the quay.