In towers, old trees, and similar places, the jackdaws endeavor to supplant the owls, and the Starlings endeavor to extirpate the jackdaws. On the ground under such places may be seen whole heaps of sticks, dropped by the jackdaw while endeavoring to make its nest, and showing how strangely circumscribed are the reasoning powers of lower beings.

In many things the jackdaw is a wonderfully clever bird, displaying such an amount of ingenuity in its actions, that its rational capacities are evidently very great. But, however clever a bird may be, and however admirably it may adapt its actions to surrounding circumstances, it is sure to break down suddenly in an unexpected manner, and to fail in the easiest part of its task. A jackdaw, for example, will go afield in search of sticks, and will spend some time in selecting a branch that will serve its purpose. It lifts, and drops, and turns, and weighs the branch, displaying great acumen in its task, and occupying much time in making a proper selection. When it has chosen a suitable branch, it flies away to the spot it has chosen for its nest.

When taking up the branch, the jackdaw mostly carries it by the middle, because it can be easily balanced when so held. But the bird forgets that a branch held crosswise will not enter a small aperture, and accordingly it finds itself checked when endeavoring to gain admission to its domicile. It flutters about in great dismay, and tries with all its powers to force the branch into the hole; but it never thinks of the simple expedient of taking the branch by the end, and pushing it lengthwise through the entrance; and after it has wearied itself out in vain attempts, it drops the branch and goes off for another. Beneath the many nesting-places at Walton Hall may be seen a wonderful number of sticks which have been thus dropped. Mr. Waterton lately drew my attention to a rapidly-accumulating pile of dead branches, which had been dropped by a jackdaw which was making its nest in a small window in the stable front. In this favored place the birds know that they will not be injured, and so they permit their proceedings to be watched without exhibiting any shyness.

Old towers are very favorite haunts of the Starling, who builds in close proximity to the owl and jackdaw, neither of the three appearing to be disturbed by the presence of the others. In forest lands the Starling lays its eggs in old trees; and I have frequently looked into a little hole high on the trunk, and seen the eggs lying far below, out of the reach of any foe except the rat,

the weasel, and the British schoolboy, with his fertile invention and ready limbs. Starlings which choose such situations are strangely indifferent to observation, and are so noisy in all their conversation, that they may be heard at a distance of several hundred yards.

ONE or two other British birds must be mentioned, because they lay their eggs in excavations either natural or artificial. There is the elegant little TREE CREEPER (Certhia familiaris), so well known for its delicate form, its slender and slightly-curved beak, and the great agility with which it traverses the trunks of trees. The nest of this bird is mostly placed in the hollow of some decaying tree, and is of rather more ambitious a character than is generally found with birds which lay their eggs in similar situations, being formed of moss, grass, and other soft vegetable substances, and lined with downy feathers. There are about seven or eight eggs, which are small and of a light gray, variegated with brownish dots.

THE short-bodied, stout-beaked, strong-limbed NUT-HATCH (Sitta Europaea) is another example of the semi-burrowers, inasmuch as it always chooses the hollow of a decaying tree for its nursery. The general habits of this curious little bird are very well known, and as they bear but very slightly on the principle of nesting, there is no need to mention them in this place.

The cavity which the bird selects is usually one which has but a very small entrance; and it is said that when the orifice is too large, the mother bird lessens it by kneading clay into the sides. It has already been mentioned that the wry-neck defends its nest by the simulation of offensive powers, though it is, in truth, a very harmless bird, without the means to work an injury to an enemy. The Nut-hatch defends its home with equal success, but not by the same deception; for whenever an enemy approaches too closely to the nest, out dashes the bird in a state of wild excitement, darts at the intruder, and pecks so fiercely with its powerful beak, that it can drive away any ordinary foe. The bite which the Nut-hatch can inflict is of no trifling force; for the beak is strong enough to crack the shell of any nut, and when employed on softer substances, is very apt to leave behind it a tangible mark of its powers.

The nest of the Nut-hatch is hardly deserving of the name, for

it merely consists of a few dried leaves, intermingled with little bits of decaying wood.

ANOTHER of these semi-burrowing birds is the HOOPOE (Upupa epops), one of the handsomest, though not the most brilliant, of English birds. It is now very rare in this country, and, from all appearances, is unlikely to become plentiful.

The Hoopoe makes its nest in some decaying tree, and often prepares the hollow for its nest, though without intending to do so. The food of the bird consists chiefly of insects, in various stages of existence, most of which are dug by the long bill from the decayed wood wherein they burrow. The larvæ of many beetles exist in such localities, and as they are mostly fat and plump, they afford abundant nourishment to their destroyer. In dislodging these larvæ from their strong-holds, the Hoopoe not only enlarges the hollow, but flings a quantity of small chips of the spongy wood to the bottom of the cavity. The nest is made of grass, feathers, and similar materials, and in many cases is placed upon the layer of dried fragments.

The cavity in which the Hoopoe makes its nest is notable for a most horrible stench, which, in countries where the bird is plentiful, has become proverbial. The odor which emanates from the kingfisher is most unsavory, but it does not possess the pungent offensiveness which distinguishes that of the Hoopoe. The food of the Hoopoe was long considered to be the cause of this unpleasant peculiarity; but as the bird lives entirely on insects, it is evident that some other cause must be sought. This is found in certain glands near the tail, which secrete a substance that certainly must be useful to the bird in some mysterious way, just as the odorous secretion of the musk-deer must be beneficial to the animal; but it possesses a singularly offensive smell, and renders the nest unendurable to human nostrils.

ONE or two of the Titmice are in the habit of making their nests in similar situations. The COLE-TIT (Parus ater) will always take advantage of hollow places, though it is perfectly capable of building a nest among the dense underwood, and its habitation may be mostly found in such localities. Young fir plantations are favorite resorts of this bird, which finds a congenial resting-place among the low, horizontal branches.

In Mudie's "Feathered Tribes of the British Islands," there is

G

a brief and valuable summary of the bird-attracting powers of the fir in its different stages of development. "In a fir plantation, which is neither so low as to partake of the mushroom growth of pines (especially Pinus sylvestris) upon too rich soils, nor too inland and upland, there is a succession of birds. Linnets and other brake-birds come to them as long as they are mere bushes; but the note of the cuckoo is not heard in them. After a while the Cole-tit becomes one of their most plentiful inhabitants; and by that time the cuckoo perches and sings on the margin. A few years longer, and the ringdove moans in the tops of the trees, which have then begun to open toward the surface of the ground, and the covers for the brake-birds, and resting-places for all birds that build hideling and near the earth, are gone. The cuckoo is then heard less frequently, unless there are coppices of deciduous trees, or young pines come up in succession, in the vicinity. If the trees form a belt between rich grounds, the magpie, though he loves the 'home' trees better, will sometimes come, a little after the wood-pigeon; and if the plantation is deep and secluded, the jay will, perhaps, come a little earlier. To all these succeeds the rook, which nestles in the mature trees, with the long boles clear of branches, and he quits them not until they are cut down or perish in the lapse of time." In my note-book there is a sketch of a curious habitation occupied by a Cole-tit. One of the large trees at Walton Hall had been infested by the fungus, which has already been mentioned, and had broken asunder some eighteen or twenty feet from the ground. Several spots where these fungi had softened the wood were excavated by Mr. Waterton, in order to make nesting-places for various birds. In such spots the owls come and breed, and so do the jackdaws, starlings, and other birds. To one of these cavities Mr. Waterton fitted a door, composed of bark, and in the upper part of the door he cut a little circular hole. The Cole-tit soon found out the hollow, and discovering that the cavity would make a good dwelling-place, and that the hole afforded an easy mode of entrance and egress, she proceeded to make her nest therein. When I saw the tree, the Cole-tit had not begun to build, but the pieces of the old nest were there, and could easily be seen by opening the door.

ANOTHER example of birds that make their nests within the hollow of trees is the strangely-formed TOUCAN (Ramphastos Ariel):

There are many species of Toucan, all of which are easily recognizable on account of the colors of the beak, for in all these birds the enormous bill is decorated with strangely brilliant tints. In one species the bill is rich orange and black, in another it is scarlet and yellow, and in another it is green and red; and in all it is of enormous dimensions when compared with the body, and is of great strength, though very light. Indeed, it is but a mere shell of horny substance, in some places not thicker than writing paper, and colored by means of certain membranes in the interior, which shine through the semi-transparent horn.

It has long been known that the Toucan nested in hollow trees, and that it preferred those cavities which could only be entered by a small aperture, the reason for this predilection being rather absurd. It was supposed that the young of the Toucan were liable to the attacks of monkeys and large birds of prey, and that whenever the parent bird was alarmed, all she had to do was to poke her beak out of the aperture. The assailant, on seeing such a huge bill, fancied that an animal of corresponding size must be behind it, and therefore fled from so doughty a foe. One writer puts this idea in a very quaint manner. The monkeys, he says,