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Crossbills, owls, lizards, toads, adders, snakes and blind-worms in Scotland
CHàPTER VIII
Crossbills : Habits of; Nest-Snowy Owl-Great-eared Owl-Hoopoe-
Shrike-Tawny and Snow Bunting-Lizards-Singular Pets-Toads :
Utility of; Combats of-Adders-Dog and Snakes-Large Snake-Blind-
Worm.
Whilst walking through the extensive fir and larch woods in
this neighbourhood, I am often much amused by the proceedings
of those curious little birds the crossbills. They pass incessantly
from tree to tree with a jerking quick flight in search of their
food, which consists of the seeds of the fir and larch. They extract these from the cones with the greatest skill and rapidity,
holding the cone in one foot, and cutting it up quickly and thoroughly with their powerful beak, which they use much after the
manner of a pair of scissors. When the flock has stripped one
tree of all the sound cones, they simultaneously take wing,
uttering at the same time a sharp harsh chattering cry. Sometimes
they fly off to a considerable height, and after wheeling about
for a short time, suddenly alight again on some prolific-looking
tree, over which they disperse immediately, hanging and swinging
about the branches and twigs, cutting off the cones, a great many of
which they fling to the ground, often with a kind of impatient
jerk. These cones, I conclude, are without any ripe seed. They
continue uttering a constant chirping while in search of their
food on the branches. I have never succeeded in finding the
nest of the crossbill, though I am confident that they breed in
this country, having seen the birds during every month of the
year, so that either some barren ones must remain, or they hatch
their young here. The nest has been described to me as placed
at a considerable height from the ground, at the junction of some
large branch with the main stem.
The crossbill itself is a busy, singular-looking little fellow, as
he flits to and fro, or climbs, parrot-like, up and down the
branches ; and the cock, with his red plumage shining in the
sun, has more the appearance of some Eastern or tropical bird
than any other of our sober northern finches. When engaged
in feeding, these birds are often so intent on their occupation that
they will allow a horsehair snare, attached to the end of a long
twig, to be slipped round their necks before they fly away. In
captivity they are very tame, but restless, and are constantly
tearing with their strong mandibles at the woodwork and wires
of their cage.
Altogether the crossbill is a gay, lively bird, and, I hope,
likely to increase and become a regular inhabitant of this
country, as the numerous plantations of fir and larch which are
daily being laid out, afford them plenty of their favourite and
natural food.
The eastern coast of Scotland, owing to its proximity to
Sweden and Norway, and also to the great prevalence of easterly
winds, is often visited by foreign birds. Amongst these is that
splendid stranger the snowy owl, who occasionally is blown over
to our coast from his native fastnesses amongst the mountains and
forests of the north of Europe. Now and then one of these
birds is killed here, and I was told of one having been seen two
or three years back on part of the ground rented by me. He
was sitting on a high piece of muirland, and at a distance
looked, said my informant, " like a milestone." This bird was
pursued for some hours, but was not killed. The snowy owl
has been also seen, to the astonishment of the fisherman or bent-puller, on the sand-hills, where he finds plenty of food amongst
the rabbits that abound there. One was winged in that district
a few years ago, and lived for some time in confinement. He
was a particularly fine old bird, with perfect plumage, and of a
great size. I am much inclined to think that the great-eared
owl, Strix bubo, is also occasionally a visitor to the wildest
parts of this district. A man described to me a large bird,
which he called an eagle. The bird was sitting on a fir-tree,
and his attention was called to it by the grey crows uttering
their cries of alarm and war. He went up to the tree, and close
above his head sat a great bird, with large staring yellow eyes,
as bright (so he expressed it) as two brass buttons. The man
stooped to pick up a stone or stick, and the bird dashed off the
tree into the recesses of the wood, and was not seen again. I
have no doubt that, instead of an eagle, as he supposed it to
be, it was the great Strix bubo. The colour of its eyes, the
situation the bird was in on the branch of a tall fir-tree, and its
remaining quiet until the man approached so close to it, all convince me that it must have been the great owl, whose loud midnight hootings disturb the solitude of the German forests, giving
additional weight to the legends and superstitions of the peasants
of that country, inclined as they are to belief in supernatural
sounds and apparitions.
The hoopoe has been killed in the east of Sutherlandshire, on
the bent-hills near Dornock, and so also has the rose-coloured
ousel. These birds must have been driven over by the east
winds, as neither of them are inhabitants of Britain. Indeed,
many a rare and foreign bird may visit the uninhabited and
desert tracts of bent and sand along the east coast without being
observed, excepting quite by chance ; and the probability is, that
nine persons out of ten who might see a strange bird would take
no notice of it.
Last winter I saw a great ash-coloured shrike or butcher-bird
in my orchard. The gardener told me that he had seen it for
some hours in pursuit of the small birds, and I found lying about
the walls two or three chaffinches, which had been killed and
partly eaten, in a style unlike the performance of any bird of
prey that I am acquainted with ; so much so, indeed, that before
I saw the butcher-bird, my attention was called to their dead
bodies by the curious manner in which they seemed to have been
pulled to pieces. Having watched the bird for a short time as
he sat perched on an apple-tree very near me, I went in for my
gun, but did not see him again. The tawny bunting and the
snow-bunting visit us in large flocks, especially the latter, which
birds remain here during the whole w'inter, appearing in greater
or lesser flocks according to the temperature. In severe weather
the fields near the seashore, and the shore itself, are sometimes
nearly covered by them. When the snow-buntings first arrive,
in October and November, they are of a much darker colour
than they are afterwards as the winter advances. If there is
much snow, they put on a white plumage immediately. I do not
know how this change of colour is effected, but it is very visible,
and appears to depend entirely on the severity of the season,
They feed a great deal on the shore. When flying they keep in
close rank, but as soon as they alight the whole company instantly
disperse, and run (not jump, like many small birds) quickly
about in search of their food, which consists principally of small
insects and minute seeds. They often pitch to look for these on
the barest parts of the sand-hills, the dry sands always producing
a number of small flies and beetles. So tine and dry is the sand
which composes the hillocks and plains of that curious district,
that every beetle and fly that walks or crawls over its surface in
calm and dry weather leaves its track as distinctly marked on
the finely pulverised particles, as the rabbit or hare does on
snow. The footprints of the lizards, which abound there, are
very neatly and distinctly marked, till the first breath of wind
drifting the sand erases the impressions. One of my children
brought home a large lizard one day, and put it into a box, intending to keep it as a pet; boys having strange tastes in the animals
which they select as favourites. I remember that when I was a
boy at school, I was the owner of three living pets-a rat, a bat,
and a snake, all of which lived and flourished for some months
under my tender care, notwithstanding the occasional edicts sent
forth from headquarters against any living animal whatever
being kept in the schoolroom. But to return to the lizard in
the box. The next morning, to the children's great delight, the
lizard had become much reduced in circumference, but had produced four young ones, who were apparently in full and vigorous
enjoyment of life. Thev were voted, at a consultation of the
children, to be entitled to, and worthy of liberty, and were all
(mother and children) carefully put into the garden, in a sunny
corner under the wall. For my own part, I can see no tiling
more disgusting in animals usually called reptiles, such as lizards
and toads, than in any other living creatures. A toad is a most
useful member of society, and deserves the freedom of all floricultural societies, as well as entire immunity from all the pains and
penalties which he undergoes at the hands of the ignorant and
vulgar. In hotbeds and hothouses he is extremely useful, and
many gardeners take great care of toads in these places, where
they do good service by destroying beetles and other insects. In
the flower-beds too they are of similar use. Of quiet and domestic habits, the toad seldom seems to wander far from his
seat or form under a loose stone., or at the foot of a fruit-tree or
box-edging. There are several habitues of this species in my
garden, whom I always see in their respective places during the
middle of the day. In the evening they issue out in search of
their prey. I found a toad one day caught by the leg in a horsehair snare which had been placed for birds. The animal, notwithstanding the usual placid and phlegmatic demeanour of its
race, seemed to be in a perfect fury, struggling and scratching
at everything within his reach, apparently much more in anger
than fear. Like many other individuals of quiet exterior, toads
are liable to great fits of passion and anger, as is seen in the
pools during April, when five or six will contend for the good
graces of their sultanas with a fury and pertinacity that is quite
wonderful, fighting and struggling for hours together. And
where a road intervenes between two ditches, I have seen the
battle carried on even in the dry dust, till the rival toads, in
spite of their natural aquatic propensities, became perfectly dry
and covered with sand, and in this powdered state will they continue fighting, regardless of the heat, which shrivels up their
skin, or of passers by, who may tread on them and maim them,
but cannot stop their fighting. There is more character and
energy in a toad than is supposed. After the young ones have
acquired their perfect shape, they appear to leave the water, and
frequently the roads and paths are so covered with minute but
well-formed toadlings, that it is impossible to put your foot down
without crushing some of them.
In some of the drier banks and hills in this country, there
are numerous adders ; like most other snakes, however, they
never willingly fly at people, only biting when trod upon or
taken hold of. I have had my dogs occasionally, but rarely,
bitten by adders. The swelling is very severe, and only reduced
after several hours' rubbing with oil and laudanum. A retriever
of mine, having been bit by an adder, conceived the most deadly
hatred against them ever after, and killed a great number of them
without being again bit; his method was to snap quickly at the
adder, biting it in two almost instantaneously, and before the
reptile could retaliate. A favourite amusement of this dog, when
he was in Sussex with me some time afterwards, used to be
hunting the hedgerows for snakes and adders. He made a most
marked distinction between the two, killing the former quietly
and without hurry, but whenever he found an adder, he darted
on it with a perfect frenzy of rage, at the same time always managing to escape the fangs of the venomous reptile, quickly as
it can use them. The poisonous teeth of the adder greatly resemble the talons of a cat in shape, and can be raised or laid flat
on the jaw according to the wish of their owner; indeed, the
fangs of the adder, which are hollow throughout, are only raised
when he is angry, and in self-defence. The common snake, which
is quite harmless, has no such teeth. There are stories among
the peasants, of adders being seen in Darnaway Forest, of great
size and length, measuring five or six feet, but I do not believe
that there are any larger than the usual size.
I have never seen the Anguis fragilis, or blind-worm, as it is
called, but once in this country, though I am told it is not uncommon ; a man brought me one last year which he had found
floating down the river after a flood, as if swept off some rock by
the sudden rise of the water. I mentioned the circumstance to
some of my acquaintance, but could find no one who had either
seen or heard of such a creature in this country. This one was
alive when brought to me, but had received a cut which nearly
divided its body in two, so that it did not long survive.
Amongst the rare feathered visitors to these woods, I forgot to
mention the spotted woodpecker, Picus medius, which bird I
killed in Inverness-shire ; I was attracted to the spot, where he
was clinging to the topmost shoot of a larch-tree, by hearing his
strange harsh cry.
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