Some Woodhewers'
beaks.
only member known
of the genus, with a tail resembling that of the lyre-bird, the
extravagantly long feathers being so narrow as to appear
almost
240
The Naturalist in La
Plata.
like shafts
destitute of webs. This tail appears to be purely
ornamental.
This extreme variety
in structure indicates a corresponding diversity in habits; and,
assuming it to be a true doctrine that habits vary first and
structure afterwards, anyone might infer from a study of their
forms alone that these birds possess a singular plasticity, or
tendency to vary, in their habits--or, in other words, that they
are exceptionally intelligent; and that such a conclusion would
be right I believe a study of their habits will serve to
show.
The same species is
often found to differ in its manner of life in different
localities. Some species of Xenops and Magarornis, like
woodpeckers, climb vertically on tree-trunks in search of insect
prey, but also, like tits, explore the smaller twigs and foliage
at the extremity of the branches; so that the whole tree, from
its root to its topmost foliage, is hunted over by them. The
Sclerurus, although an inhabitant of the darkest forest, and
provided with sharply-curved claws, never seeks its food on
trees, but exclusively on the ground, among the decaying fallen
leaves; but, strangely enough, when alarmed it flies to the trunk
of the nearest tree, to which it clings in a vertical position,
and, remaining silent and motionless, escapes observation by
means of its dark protective colour. The Drymornis, a large bird,
with feet and tail like a woodpecker, climbs on tree-trunks to
seek its food; but also possesses the widely-different habit of
resorting to the open plain, especially after a shower, to feed
on larvae and earthworms, extracting them from a depth of
three
The Woodkewer
Family. 241
or four inches
beneath the surface with its immense curved probing
beak.
Again, when we
consider a large number of species of different groups, we find
that there is not with the Tree-creepers, as with most families,
any special habit or manner of life linking them together; but
that, on the contrary, different genera, and, very frequently,
different species belonging to one genus, possess habits
peculiarly their own. In other families, even where the
divergence is greatest, what may be taken as the original or
ancestral habit is seldom or never quite obsolete in any of the
members. This we see, for instance, in the woodpeckers, some of
which have acquired the habit of seeking their food exclusively
on the ground in open places, and even of nesting in the banks of
streams. Yet all these wanderers, even those which have been
structurally modified in accordance with their altered way of
life, retain the primitive habit of clinging vertically to the
trunks of trees, although the habit has lost its use. With the
tyrant birds--a family showing an extraordinary amount of
variation--it is the same; for the most divergent kinds are
frequently seen reverting to the family habit of perching on an
elevation, from which to make forays after passing insects,
returning after each capture to the same stand. The thrushes,
ranging all over the globe, afford another striking example.
Without speaking of their nesting habits, their relationship
appears in their love of fruit, in their gait, flight, statuesque
attitudes, and abrupt motions.
With the numerous
Dendrocolaptine groups, so
242 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
widely separated
and apparently unrelated, it would be difficult indeed to say
which, of their most striking habits is the ancestral one. Many
of the smaller species live in trees or bushes, and in their
habits resemble tits, warblers, wrens, and other kinds that
subsist on small caterpillars, spiders, &c., gleaned from the
leaves and smaller twigs. The Anumbius nests on trees, but feeds
exclusively on the ground in open places; while other
ground-feeders seek their food among dead leaves in dense gloomy
forests. Coryphistera resembles the lark and pipit in its habits;
Cinclodes, the wagtail; Geobates a Saxicola; Limnornis lives in
reed beds growing in the water; Henicornis in reed beds growing
out of the water; and many other ground species exist concealed
in the grass on dry plains; Homorus seeks its food by digging in
the loose soil and dead leaves about the roots of trees; while
Geo-sitta, Furnarius, and Upercerthia obtain a livelihood chiefly
by probing in the soil. It would not be possible within the
present limits to mention in detail all the different modes of
life of those species or groups which do not possess the
tree-creeping habit; after them comes a long array of genera in
which this habit is ingrained, and in which the greatly modified
feet and claws are suited to a climbing existence. As these
genera comprise the largest half of the family, also the largest
birds in it, we might expect to find in the tree-creeping the
parental habit of the Dendrocolaptidae, and that from these
tropical forest groups have sprung the widely-diverging thicket,
ground, marsh, sea-beach, and rock-frequenting groups. It
happens, however,
The Woodhewer
Family. 243
that these birds
resemble each other only in their climbing feet; in the form of
their beaks they are as wide apart as are nuthatches,
woodpeckers, crows, and curlews. They also differ markedly in the
manner of seeking their food. Some dig like woodpeckers in
decayed wood; others probe only in soft rotten wood; while the
humming-bird-billed Xiphorhynchus, with a beak too long and
slender for probing, explores the interior of deep holes in the
trunks to draw out nocturnal insects, spiders, and centipedes
from their concealment. Xiphoco-laptes uses its sword-like beak
as a lever, thrusting it under and forcing up the loose bark;
while Dendrornis, with its stout corvine beak, tears the bark
off.
In the nesting
habits the diversity is greatest. Some ground species excavate in
the earth like kingfishers, only with greater skill, making
cylindrical burrows often four to five feet deep, and terminating
in a round chamber. Others build a massive oven-shaped structure
of clay on a branch or other elevated site. Many of those that
creep on trees nest in holes in the wood. The marsh-frequenting
kinds attach spherical or oval domed nests to the reeds; and in
some cases woven grass and clay are so ingeniously combined that
the structure, while light as a basket, is perfectly impervious
to the wet and practically indestructible. The most curious
nests, however, are the large stick structures on trees and
bushes, in the building and repairing of which the birds are in
many cases employed more or less constantly all the year round.
These stick nests vary greatly in form,
244 The Naturalist
in La Plata,
size, and in other
respects. Some have a spiral passage-way leading from the
entrance to the nest cavity, and the cavity is in many cases only
large enough to accommodate the bird; but in the gigantic
structure of Homorus gutturalis it is so large that, if the upper
half of the nest or dome were removed, a condor could comfortably
hatch her eggs and rear her young in it. This nest is spherical.
The allied Homorus lophotis builds a nest equally large, but with
a small cavity for the eggs inside, and outwardly resembling a
gigantic powder-flask, lying horizontally among the lower
branches of a spreading tree. Pracellodomtis sibila-trix, a bird
in size like the English house sparrow, also makes a huge nest,
and places it on the twigs at the terminal end of a horizontal
branch from twelve to fifteen feet above the ground; but when
finished, the weight of the structure bears down the branch-end
to within one or two feet of the surface. Mr. Barrows, who
describes this nest, says: "When other branches of the same tree
are similarly loaded, and other trees close at hand bear the same
kind of fruit, the result is very picturesque." Synallaxis
phryganophila makes a stick nest about a foot in depth, and from
the top a tubular passage, formed of slender twigs interlaced,
runs down the entire length of the nest, like a rain-pipe on the
wall of a house, and then becoming external slopes upward, ending
at a distance of two to three feet from the nest. Throughout
South America there are several varieties of these fruit-and-stem
or watering-pot shaped nests; they are not, however, all built by
birds of one genus, while in the genus
The Woodhewer
Family. 245
Synallaxis many
species have no tubular passageways attached to their nests. One
species--erythro thorax--in Yucatan, makes so large a nest of
sticks, that the natives do not believe that so small a bird can
be the builder. They say that when the tzapatan begins to
sing, all the birds in the forest repair to it, each one carrying
a stick to add to the structure; only one, a tyrant-bird, brings
two sticks, one for itself and one for the urubú or
vulture, that bird being considered too large, heavy, and
ignorant of architecture to assist personally in the
work.
In the southern
part of South America, where scattered thorn trees grow on a dry
soil, these big nests are most abundant. "There are plains," Mr.
Barrows writes, "within two miles of the centre of this town
(Concepcion, Argentine Republic), where I have stood and counted,
from one point within a radius of twenty rods, over two hundred
of these curious nests, varying in size from that of a small
pumpkin to more than the volume of a barrel. Often a single tree
will contain half a dozen nests or more; and, not unfrequently,
the nests of several different species are seen crowding each
other out of shape on the same bush or tree."
It would be a
mistake to think that the widely different nesting habits I have
mentioned are found in different genera. I have just spoken of
the big stick nests, with or without passage-ways, of the
Synallaxes, yet the nest of one member of this group is simply a
small straight tube of woven grass, the aperture only large
enough to admit the finger, and open at both ends, so that
the
246 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
bird can pass in
and out without turning round. Another species scoops a circular
hollow in the soil, and builds over it a dome of fine woven
grass. It should be mentioned that the nesting habits of only
about fifteen out of the sixty-five species comprised in this
genus are known to us. In the genus Furnarius the oven-shaped
clay structure is known to be made by three species; a fourth
builds a nest of sticks in a tree; a fifth burrows in the side of
a bank, like a kingfisher.
The explanation of
the most striking features of the Dendrocolaptidae, their
monotonous brown plumage, diversity of structure, versatile
habits, and the marvellous development of the nest-making
instinct which they exhibit is to be found, it appears to me, in
the fact that they are the most defenceless of birds. They are
timid, unresisting creatures, without strength or weapons; their
movements arc less quick and vigorous than those of other kinds,
and their flight is exceedingly feeble. The arboreal species flit
at intervals from one tree to another; those that frequent
thickets refuse to leave their chosen shelter; while those
inhabiting grassy plains or marshes study concealment, and, when
forced to rise, flutter away just above the surface, like
flying-fish frightened from the water, and, when they have gone
thirty or forty yards, dip into the grass or reeds again. Their
life is thus one of perpetual danger in a far greater
degree than with other passerine families, such as warblers,
tyrants, finches, thrushes, &c.; while an exclusively insect
diet, laboriously extracted from secret places, and inability to
change their climate, contribute to make
The Woodhewer
Family. 247
their existence a
hard one. It has been with these birds as with human beings, bred
in "misfortune's school," and subjected to keen competition. One
of their most striking characteristics is a methodical, plodding,
almost painful diligence of manner while seeking their food, so
that when viewed side by side with other species, rejoicing in a
gayer plumage and stronger flight, they seem like sober labourers
that never rest among holiday people bent only on enjoyment. That
they are able not only to maintain their existence, but to rise
to the position of a dominant family, is due to an intelligence
and adaptiveness exceeding that of other kinds, and which has
been strengthened, and perhaps directly results from the hard
conditions of their life.
How great their
adaptiveness and variability must be when we find that every
portion of the South American continent is occupied by them; for
there is really no climate, and no kind of soil or vegetation,
which does not possess its appropriate species, modified in
colour, form, and habits to suit the surrounding conditions. In
the tropical region, so rich in bird life of all kinds, in
forest, marsh, and savanna, they are everywhere abundant--food is
plentiful there; but when we go to higher elevations avd cold
sterile deserts, where their companion families of the tropics
dwindle away and disappear, the creepers are still present, for
they are evidently able to exist where other kinds would starve.
On the stony plateaus of the Andes, and on the most barren spots
in Patagonia, where no other bird is seen, there are small
species of Synallaxis, which, in their obscure colour and
motions
248 The Naturalist
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on the ground,
resemble mice rather than birds; indeed, the Quichua name for one
of these Synallaxes is ukatchtuka, or mouse-bird. How
different is the life habit here from what we see in the tropical
groups--the large birds with immense beaks, that run vertically
on the trunks of the great forest trees!
At the extreme
southern extremity of the South American continent we find
several species of Cin-clodes, seeking a subsistence like
sandpipers on the beach; they also fly out to sea, and run about
on the floating kelp, exploring the fronds for the small marine
animals on which they live. In the dreary forests of Tierra del
Fuego another creeper, Uxyurus, is by far the commonest bird.
"Whether high up or low down, in the most gloomy, wet, and
scarcely penetrable ravines," says Darwin, "this little bird is
to be met with;" and Dr. Cunningham also relates that in these
wintry, savage woods he was always attended in his walks by
parties of these little creepers, which assembled to follow him
out of curiosity.
To birds placed at
so great a disadvantage, by a feeble flight and other adverse
circumstances, in the race of life bright colours would certainly
prove fatal. It is true that brown is not in itself a protective
colour, and the clear, almost silky browns and bright chestnut
tints in several species are certainly not protective; but these
species are sufficiently protected in other ways, and can afford
to be without a strictly adaptive colour, so long as they are not
conspicuous. In a majority of cases, however, the colour is
undoubtedly protective, the
The Woodkewer
Family. 249
brown hue being of a
shade that assimilates very closely to the surroundings. There
are pale yellowish browns, lined and mottled, in species living
amidst a sere, scanty vegetation; earthy browns, in those
frequenting open sterile or stony places; while the species that
creep on trees in forests are dark brown in colour, and in many
cases the feathers are mottled in such a manner as to make them
curiously resemble the bark of a tree. The genera Lochmias and
Sclerurus are the darkest, the plumage in these birds being
nearly or quite black, washed or tinged with rhubarb yellow.
Their black plumage would render them conspicuous in the
sunshine, but they pass their lives in dense tropical forests,
where the sun at noon sheds only a gloomy twilight.
If "colour is ever
tending to increase and to appear where it is absent," as Dr.
Wallace believes, then we ought to find it varying in the
direction of greater brightness in some species in a family so
numerous and variable as the Dendrocolaptidae, however feeble and
in need of a protective colouring these birds may be in a
majority of pases. And this in effect we do find. In many of the
dark-plumaged species that live in perpetual shade some parts are
a very bright chestnut; while in a few that live in such close
concealment as to be almost independent of protective colouring,
the lower plumage has become pure white. A large number of
species have a bright or nearly bright guiar spot. This is most
remarkable in Synallaxis phryganophila, the chin being
sulphur-yellow, beneath which is a spot of velvet-black, and on
either side a white
2 5O The Naturalist
in La Plata.
patch, the throat
thus having three strongly contrasted colours, arranged in four
divisions. The presence of this bright throat spot in so many
species cannot very well be attributed to voluntary sexual
selection, although believers in that theory are of course at
liberty to imagine that when engaged in courtship, the male bird,
or rather male and female both, as both sexes possess the spot,
hold up their heads vertically to exhibit it. Perhaps it would be
safer to look on it as a mere casual variation, which, like the
exquisitely pencilled feathers and delicate tints on the
concealed sides and under surfaces of the wings of many species
possessing outwardly an obscure protective colouring, is neither
injurious nor beneficial in any way, either to the birds or to
the theory. It is more than probable, however, that in such small
feeble-winged, persecuted birds, this spot of colour would prove
highly dangerous on any conspicuous part of the body. In some of
the more vigorous, active species, we can see a tendency towards
a brighter colouring on large, exposed surfaces. In Auto-malus
the tail is bright satiny rufous; in Pseudo-colaptes the entire
under surface is rufous of a peculiar vivid tint, verging on
orange or red; in Magarornis the bosom is black, and beautifully
ornamented with small leaf-shaped spots of a delicate
straw-colour. There are several other very pretty birds in this
homely family; but the finest of all is Thripodectes flammulatus,
the whole body being tortoise-shell colour, the wings and tail
bright chesnut. The powerful tanager-like beak of this species
seems also to show that it has diverged
The Woodhewer
Family. 251
from its timid
shade-loving congeners in another direction by becoming a seed
and fruit eater.
Probably the sober
and generally protective colouring of the tree-creepers, even
with the variability and adaptiveness displayed in their habits
superadded, would be insufficient to preserve such feeble birds
in the struggle of life without the further advantage derived
from their wonderful nests. It has been said of domed nests that
they are a danger rather than a protection, owing to their large
size, which makes it easy for carnivorous species that prey on
eggs and young birds to find them; while small open nests are
usually well concealed. This may be the case with covered nests
made of soft materials, loosely put together; but it cannot be
said of the solid structure the tree-creeper bnilds, and which,
as often as not, the bird erects in the most conspicuous place it
can find, as if, writes Azara, it desired all the world to admire
its work. The annual destruction of adult birds is very
great--more than double that, I believe, which takes place in
other passerine families. Their eggs and young are, however,
practically safe in their great elaborate nests or deep burrows,
and, as a rule, they lay more eggs than other kinds, the full
complement being seldom less than five in the species I am
acquainted with, while some lay as many as nine. Their nests are
also made so as to keep out a greater pest than their carnivorous
or egg-devouring enemies--namely, the parasitical starlings
(Molo-thrus), which are found throughout South America, and are
excessively abundant and destructive to birds' nests in some
districts. In most cases, in the
252 The Naturalist
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big, strong-domed
nest or deep burrow, all the eggs are hatched and all the young
reared, the thinning, out process commencing only after the brood
has been led forth into a world beset with perils. With other
families, on the contrary, the greatest amount of destruction
falls on the eggs or fledglings. I have frequently kept a dozen
or twenty pairs of different species--warblers, finches, tyrants,
starlings, &c.--under observation during the breeding season,
and have found that in some cases no young-were reared at all; in
other cases one or two young; while, as often as not, the young
actually reared were only parasitical starlings after
all.
I have still to
speak of the voice of the tree-creepers, an important point in
the study of these birds; for, though not accounted singers, some
species emit remarkable sounds; moreover, language in birds is
closely related to the social instinct. They seem to be rather
solitary than gregarious; and this seems only natural in birds so
timid, weak-winged, and hard pressed. It would also be natural to
conclude from what has been said concerning their habits that
they are comparatively silent; for, as a rule, vigorous social
birds are loquacious and loud-voiced, while shy solitary kinds
preservo silence, except in the love season. Nevertheless the
creepers are loquacious and have loud resonant voices; this fact,
however, does not really contradict a well-known principle, for
the birds possess the social disposition in an eminent degree,
only the social habit is kept down in them by the conditions of a
life which makes solitude necessary. Thus, a large proportion of
species are found to pair for
The Woodhewer
Family. 253
life; and the only
reasonable explanation of this habit in birds--one which is not
very common in the mammalia--is that such species possess the
social temper or feeling, and live in pairs only because they
cannot afford to live in flocks. Strictly gregarious species pair
only for the breeding season. In the creepers the attachment
between the birds thus mated for life is very great, and, as
Azara truly says of Anumbiüs, so fond of each other's
society are these birds, that when one incubates the other sits
at the entrance to the nest, and when one carries food to its
young the other accompanies it, even if it has found nothing to
cany. In these species that live in pairs, when the two birds are
separated they are perpetually calling to each other, showing how
impatient of solitude they are; while even from the more solitary
kind, a high-pitched call-note is constantly heard in the woods,
for these birds, debarred from associating together, satisfy
their instinct by conversing with one another over long
distances.
The foregoing
remarks apply to the Dendrocolap-tidae throughout the temperate
countries of South America--the birds inhabiting extensive grassy
plains and marshes, and districts with a scanty or scattered tree
and bush vegetation. In the forest areas of the hotter regions it
is different; there the birds form large gatherings or "wandering
bands," composed of all the different species found in each
district, associated with birds of other families--wood-peckers,
tyrant-birds, bush shrikes, and many others. These miscellaneous
gatherings are not of rare occurrence, but out of the breeding
season are
254 The Naturalist
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formed daily, the
birds beginning to assemble at about nine or ten o'clock in the
morning, their number increasing through the day until it reaches
its maximum between two and four o'clock in the afternoon, after
which it begins to diminish, each bird going off to its customary
shelter or dwelling-place. Mr. Bates, who first described these
wandering bands, says that he could always find the particular
band belonging to a district any day he wished, for when he
failed to meet with it in one part of the forest he would try
other paths, until he eventually found it. The great Amazonian
forests, he tells us, appear strangely silent and devoid of bird
life, and it is possible to ramble about for whole days without
seeing or hearing birds. But now and then the surrounding trees
and bushes appear suddenly swarming with them. "The bustling
crowd loses no time, and, always moving in concert, each bird is
occupied on its own account in searching bark, or leaf, or twig.
In a few moments the host is gone, and the forest path remains
deserted and silent as before." Stolzmann, who observed them in
Peru, says that the sound caused by the busy crowd searching
through the foliage, and the falling of dead leaves and twigs,
resembles that produced by a shower of rain. The Indians of the
Amazons, Mr. Bates writes, have a curious belief to explain these
bird armies; they say that the Papa-uira, supposed to be a small
grey bird, fascinates all the others, and leads them on a weary
perpetual dance through the forest. It seems very wonderful that
birds, at other times solitary, should thus combine daily in
large numbers, includ-
The Woodhewer
Family. 255
ing in their bands
scores of widely different species, and in size ranging from
those no larger than a wren to others as big as a magpie. It is
certainly very advantageous to them. As Belt remarks, they play
into each other's hands; for while the larger creepers explore
the trunks of big trees, others run over the branches and cling
to the lesser twigs, so that every tree in their route, from its
roots to the topmost foliage, is thoroughly examined, and every
spider and caterpillar taken, while the winged insects, driven
from their lurking-places, are seized where they settle, or
caught flying by the tyrant birds.
I have observed the
wandering bands only in Patagonia, where they are on a very small
scale compared with those of the tropical forests. In the
Patagonia thickets the small tit-like creeper, Laptas-thenura, is
the prime mover; and after a considerable number of these have
gathered, creepers of other species and genera unite with them,
and finally the band, as it moves through the thickets, draws to
itself other kinds--flycatchers, finches, &c.--many of the
birds running or hopping on the ground to search for insects in
the loose soil or under dead leaves, while others explore the
thorny bushes. My observations of these small bands lead me to
believe that everywhere in South America the Dendrocolaptidae are
the first in combining to act in concert, and that the birds of
other families follow their march and associate with them,
knowing from experience that a rich harvest may be thus reaped.
In the same way birds of various kinds follow the movements of a
column of hunting
256 The Naturalist
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ants, to catch the
insects flying up from the earth to escape from their enemies;
swallows also learn to keep company with the traveller on
horseback, and, crossing and recrossing just before the hoofs,
they catch the small twilight moths driven up from the
grass.
To return to the
subject of voice. The tree-creepers do not possess melodious, or
at any rate mellow notes, although in so numerous a family there
is great variety of tone, ranging from a small reedy voice like
the faint stridulation of a grasshopper, to the resounding,
laughter-like, screaming concerts of Homorus, which may be heard
distinctly two miles away. As a rule, the notes are loud ringing
calls; and in many species the cry, rapidly reiterated, resembles
a peal of laughter. With scarcely an exception, they possess no
set song; but in most species that live always in pairs there are
loud, vehement, gratulatory notes uttered by the two birds in
concert when they meet after a brief separation. This habit they
possess in common with birds of other families, as, for instance,
the tyrants; but, in some creepers, out of this confused outburst
of joyous sound has been developed a musical performance very
curious, and perhaps unique among birds. On meeting, the male and
female, standing close together and facing each other, utter
their clear ringing concert, one emitting loud single measured
notes, while the notes of its fellow are rapid, rhythmical
triplets; their voices have a joyous character, and seem to
accord, thus producing a kind of harmony. This manner of singing
is perhaps most perfect in the oven-bird,
The Woodhewer
Family. 257
Furnarias, and it
is very curious that the young birds, when only partially
fledged, are constantly heard in the nest or oven apparently
practising these duets in the intervals when the parents are
absent; single measured notes, triplets, and long concluding
trills are all repeated with wonderful fidelity, although these
notes are in character utterly unlike the hunger cry, which is
like that of other fledglings. I cannot help thinking that this
fact of the young birds beginning to sing like the adults, while
still confined in their dark cradle, is one of very considerable
significance, especially when we consider the singular character
of the performance; and that it might even be found to throw some
light on the obscure question of the comparative antiquity of the
different and widely separated Dendrocolaptine groups. It is a
doctrine in evolutionary science that the early maturing of
instincts in the young indicates a high antiquity for the species
or group; and there is no reason why this principle should not be
extended, in the case of birds at any rate, to language. It is
true that Daines Barrington's notion that young song-birds learn
to sing only by imitating the adults still holds its ground; and
Darwin gives it his approval in his Descent of Man. It is
perhaps one of those doctrines which are partially true, or which
do not contain the whole truth; and it is possible to believe
that, while many singing birds do so learn their songs, or
acquire a greater proficiency in them from hearing the adults, in
other species the song comes instinctively, and is, like other
instincts and habits, purely an "inherited memory."
258 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
The case of a
species in another order of birds--Crypturi--strikes me as being
similar to this of the oven-bird, and seems to lend some force to
the suggestion I have made concerning the early development of
voice in the young.
Birds peculiar to
South America are said by anatomists to be less specialized,
lower, more ancient, than the birds of the northern continents,
and among those which are considered lowest and most ancient are
the Tinamous (rail and partridge like in their habits), birds
that lead a solitary, retiring life, and in most cases have sweet
melancholy voices. Rhynchotus rufescens, a bird the size of a
fowl, inhabiting the pampas, is perhaps the sweetest-voiced, and
sings with great frequency. Its song or call is heard oftenest
towards the evening, and is composed of five modulated notes,
flute-like in character, very expressive, and uttered by many
individuals answering each other as they sit far apart concealed
in the grass. As we might have expected, the faculties and
instincts of the young of this species mature at a very early
period; when extremely small, they abandon their parents to shift
for themselves in solitude; and when not more than one-fourth the
size they eventually attain, they acquire the adult plumage and
are able to fly as well as an old bird. I observed a young bird
of this species, less than a quail in size, at a house on the
pampas, and was told that it had been taken from the nest when
just breaking the shell; it had, therefore, never seen or heard
the parent birds. Yet this small chick, every day at the approach
of evening, would retire to the darkest corner of the
The Woodhewer
Family. 259
dining room, and,
concealed under a piece of furniture, would continue uttering its
evening song for an hour or longer at short intervals, and
rendering it so perfectly that I was greatly surprised to hear
it; for a thrush or other songster at the same period of life,
when attempting to sing, only produces a chirping
sound.
The early singing
of the oven-bird fledgling is important, owing to the fact that
the group it belongs to comprises the least specialized forms in
the family. They are strong-legged, square-tailed, terrestrial
birds, generally able to perch, have probing beaks, and build the
most perfect mud or stick nests, or burrow in the ground. In the
numerous tree-creeping groups, which, seem as unrelated to the
oven-bird as the woodpecker is to the hoopoe, we find a score of
wonderfully different forms of beak; but many of them retain the
probing character, and are actually used to probe in rotten wood
on trees, and to explore the holes and deep crevices in the
trunk. We have also seen that some of these tree-creepers revert
to the ancestral habit (if I may so call it) of seeking their
food by probing in the soil. In others, like Dendrornis, in which
the beak has lost this character, and is used to dig in the wood
or to strip off the bark, it has not been highly specialized,
and, compared with the woodpecker's beak, is a very imperfect
organ, considering the purpose for which it is used. Yet, on the
principle that "similar functional requirements frequently lead
to the development of similar structures in animals which are
otherwise very distinct"--as we see in the tubular tongue
in
260 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
honey-eaters and
humming birds--we might have expected to find in the
Dendrocolaptidae a better imitation of the woodpecker in so
variable an organ as the beak, if not in the tongue.
Probably the
oven-birds, and their nearest relations--generalized, hardy,
builders of strong nests, and prolific--represent the parental
form; and when birds of this type had spread over the entire
continent they became in different districts frequenters of
marshes, forests, thickets and savannas. With altered life-habits
the numerous divergent forms originated; some, like Xiphorynchus,
retaining a probing beak in a wonderfully modified form,
attenuated in an extreme degree, and bent like a sickle; others
diverging more in the direction of nuthatches and
woodpeckers.
This sketch of the
Dendrocolaptidae, necessarily slight and imperfect, is based on a
knowledge of the habits of about sixty species, belonging to
twenty-eight genera: from personal observation I am acquainted
with less than thirty species. It is astonishing to find how
little has been written about these most interesting birds in
South America. One tree-creeper only, Furnarius rufus, the
oven-bird par excellence, has been mentioned, on account
of its wonderful architecture, in almost every general work of
natural history published during the present century; yet the
oven-bird does not surpass, or even equal in interest, many
others in this family of nearly three hundred members.
CHAPTER XIX.
MUSIC AND DANCING IN
NATURE.
IN reading books of
Natural History we meet with numerous instances of birds
possessing the habit of assembling together, in many cases always
at the same spot, to indulge in antics and dancing performances,
with or without the accompaniment of music, vocal or
instrumental.; and by instrumental music is here meant all sounds
other than vocal made habitually and during the more or less
orderly performances; as, for instance, drumming and tapping
noises; smiting of wings; and humming, whip-cracking,
fan-shutting, grinding, scraping, and horn-blowing sounds,
produced as a rule by the quills.
There are human
dances, in which only one person performs at a time, the rest of
the company looking on; and some birds, in widely separated
genera, have dances of this kind. A striking example is the
Rupicola, or cock of-the-rock, of tropical South America. A mossy
level spot of earth surrounded by bushes is selected for a
dancing-place, and kept well cleared of sticks and stones; round
this area the birds assemble, when a cock-bird, with vivid
orange-scarlet crest and plumage, steps into it, and, with
spreading wings and tail,
262 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
begins a series of
movements as if dancing a minuet; finally, carried away with
excitement, he leaps and gyrates in the most astonishing manner,
until, becoming exhausted, he retires, and another bird takes his
place.
In other species
all the birds in a company unite in the set performances, and
seem to obey an impulse which affects them simultaneously and in
the same degree; but sometimes one bird prompts the others and
takes a principal part. One of the most curious instances I have
come across in reading is contained in Mr. Bigg-Wither's
Pioneering in South Brazil. He relates that one morning in
the dense forest his attention was roused by the unwonted sound
of a bird singing--songsters being rare in that district. His
men, immediately they caught the sound, invited him to follow
them, hinting that he would probably witness a very curious
sight. Cautiously making their way through the dense undergrowth,
they finally came in sight of a small stony spot of ground, at
the end of a tiny glade; and on this spot, some on the stone and
some on the shrubs, were assembled a number of little birds,
about the size of tom-tits, with lovely blue plumage and red
top-knots. One was perched quite still on a twig, singing
merrily, while the others were keeping time with wings and feet
in a kind of dance, and all twittering an accompaniment. He
watched them for some time, and was satisfied that they were
having a ball and concert, and thoroughly enjoying themselves;
they then became alarmed, and the performance abruptly
terminated, the birds all going off in different directions. The
natives told
Music and Dancing in
Nature. 26^
him that these
little creatures were known as the "dancing birds."
This species was
probably solitary, except when assembling for the purpose of
display; but in a majority of cases, especially in the Passerine
order, the solitary species performs its antics alone, or with no
witness but its mate. Azara, describing a small finch, which he
aptly named Oscilador, says that early and late in the day
it mounts up vertically to a moderate height; then, flies off to
a distance of twenty yards, describing a perfect curve in its
passage; turning, it flies back over the imaginary line it has
traced, and so on repeatedly, appearing like a pendulum swung in
space by an invisible thread.
Those who seek to
know the cause and origin of this kind of display and of song in
animals are referred to Darwin's Descent of Man for an
explanation. The greater part of that work is occupied with a
laborious argument intended to prove that the love-feeling
inspires the animals engaged in these exhibitions, and that
sexual selection, or the voluntary selection of mates by the
females, is the final cause of all set musical and dancing
performances, as well as of bright and harmonious colouring, and
of ornaments.
The theory, with
regard to birds is, that in the love-season, when the males are
excited and engage in courtship, the females do not fall to the
strongest and most active, nor to those that are first in the
field; but that in a large number of species they are endowed
with a faculty corresponding to the aesthetic feeling or taste in
man, and deliberately
264 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
select males for
their superiority in some aesthetic quality, such as graceful or
fantastic motions, melody of voice, brilliancy of colour, or
perfection of ornaments. Doubtless all birds were originally
plain-coloured, without ornaments and without melody, and it is
assumed that so it would always have been in many cases but for
the action of this principle, which, like natural selection, has
gone on accumulating countless small variations, tending to give
a greater lustre to the species in each case, and resulting in
all that we most admire in the animal world--the Rupicola's
flame-coloured mantle, the peacock's crest and starry train, the
joyous melody of the lark, and the pretty or fantastic dancing
performances of birds.
My experience is
that mammals and birds, with few exceptions--probably there are
really no exceptions--possess the habit of indulging frequently
in more or less regular or set performances, with or without
sound, or composed of sound exclusively; and that these
performances, which in many animals are only discordant cries and
choruses, and uncouth, irregular motions, in the more aerial,
graceful, and melodious kinds take immeasurably higher, more
complex, and more beautiful forms. Among the mammalians the
instinct appears almost universal; but their displays are, as a
rule, less admirable than those seen in birds. There are some
kinds, it is true, like the squirrels and monkeys, of arboreal
habits, almost birdlike in their restless energy, and in the
swiftness and certitude of their motions, in which the slightest
impulse can be instantly expressed in graceful or fantastic
action; others, like
Music and Dancing in
Nature. 265
the Chinchillidae
family, have greatly developed vocal organs, and resemble birds
in loquacity; but mammals generally, compared with birds, are
slow and heavy, and not so readily moved to exhibitions of the
kind I am discussing.
The terrestrial
dances, often very elaborate, of heavy birds, like those of the
gallinaceous kind, are represented in the more volatile species
by performances in the air, and these are very much more
beautiful; while a very large number of birds--hawks, vultures,
swifts, swallows, nightjars, storks, ibises, spoonbills, and
gulls--circle about in the air, singly or in flocks. Sometimes,
in serene weather, they rise to a vast altitude, and float about
in one spot for an hour or longer at a stretch, showing a faint
bird-cloud in the blue, that does not change its form, nor grow
lighter and denser like a flock of starlings; but in the seeming
confusion there is perfect order, and amidst many hundreds each
swift- or slow-gliding figure keeps its proper distance with such
exactitude that no two ever touch, even with the extremity of the
long-wings, flapping or motionless:--such a multitude, and such
miraculous precision in the endless curving motions of all the
members of it, that the spectator can lie for an hour on his back
without weariness watching this mystic cloud-dance in the
empyrean.
The black-faced
ibis of Patagonia, a bird nearly as large as a turkey, indulges
in a curious mad performance, usually in the evening when
feeding-time is over. The birds of a flock, while winging their
way to the roosting-place, all at once seem possessed with
frenzy, simultaneously dashing
266 The Naturalist
in La Plata.
downwards with
amazing violence, doubling about in the most eccentric manner;
and when close to the surface rising again to repeat the action,
all the while making the air palpitate for miles around with
their hard, metallic cries. Other ibises, also birds of other
genera, have similar aerial performances.
The displays of most
ducks known to me take the form of mock fights on the water; one
exception is the handsome and loquacious whistling widgeon of La
Plata, which has a pretty aerial performance. A dozen or twenty
birds rise up until they appear like small specks in the sky, and
sometimes disappear from sight altogether; and at that great
altitude they continue hovering in one spot, often for an hour or
longer, alternately closing and separating; the fine, bright,
whistling notes and flourishes of the male curiously harmonizing
with the grave, measured notes of the female; and every time they
close they slap each other on the wings so smartly that the sound
can be distinctly heard, like applauding hand-claps, even after
the birds have ceased to be visible.
The rails, active,
sprightly birds with powerful and varied voices, are great
performers; but owing to the nature of the ground they inhabit
and to their shy, suspicious character, it is not easy to observe
their antics. The finest of the Platan rails is the ypecaha, a
beautiful, active bird about the size of the fowl. A number of
ypecahas have their assembling place on a small area of smooth,
level ground, just above the water, and hemmed in by dense rush
beds. First, one bird among the rushes emits a powerful cry,
thrice repeated; and this is a
and Dancing in
Nature.
26?
note of invitation,
quickly responded to by other birds from all sides as they
hurriedly repair to the usual place. In a few moments they
appear, to the number of a dozen or twenty, bursting from the
rushes and running into the open space, and instantly beginning
the performance. This is a tremendous screaming concert. The
screams they utter have a certain resemblance to the
human