FEATHERED STOWAWAYS

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXL, Issue 6164, 9 January 1904, Page 7

FEATHERED STOWAWAYS

(By F. Finn, F.Z.S., Deputy Superintendent, Indian 'Museum, London.) A few days ago the Zoological Society's officials were appraised of the fact that a box containing a bird was awaiting delivery to them, and the mysterious stranger turned out, on receipt and inspection, to be a specimen of the American bittern (Bot-aurus lentiginosus), which had been captured on board a ship in the Atlantic, 500 miles from Philadelphia. This is not the first time that birds captured very far from land have found a home in Regent's Park. But the present instance is peculiarly interesting in that it amply justifies a surmise of one of our most judicial ornithologists. The American bittern, paradoxical as the fact may appear, was first Known as an English bird. As long ago as 1804- there was killed in Dorsetshire a bittern which was recognised by the great ornithologist, Colonel Montagu, as of a different species from our European bird (Botaurus stellaris). It was smaller and more slender, more finely mot- j tied over nlost of its plumage, but had the quills plain drab instead of the usual j cinnamon with black bands. Of course it was duly named, but not so very long afterwards it was found that this kind of bittern was the ordinary bittern in America, where the common bittern does not occur. lEver since then American bitterns have . been in the habit of casually looking in upon us from time to time, and in a most flattering way' they have refused to visit any other part of Europe but the British dominions. Moreover, their visits are so timed as always to take place between October and 'February. •• Now, as this period agrees with the time of the American bittern's migrations, and our islands are the first land the birds are likely to reach in an Atlantic passage, it has occurred to our great authority on British birds, Mr Howard .Saunders, to suggest the theory of assisted passages across the Atlantic for these immigrants. There is so much trade between the iState9 and ourselves tliat a weary bird would have little difficulty in finding a ship, and once aboard it would merely have to possess its soul in patience till the time came to go ashore. Tlie number of birds adrift at sea, however, impresses everyone who has gone on many voyages in waters more favorable than the Atlantic, in seasons when the migrations are in full swing. The voyage to India and back is one which is certain to produce some episode in the way of bird passengers often of great interest. During several experiences of this passage I have met with birds which one certainly would not have expected to see over salt water, and have observed one or two most interesting stowaways.' Qf the outof- j the-way birds I may particularly mention the night-jar. Of course, everyone knows that this bird goes south in the autumn, but as it is a creature of the night one naturally. expects it to travel at .that time, especially as so large a proportion of the birds of day are addicted to "moonlight flitting" when* on trek. So that a night-jar at sea is a very surprising sight, and at no time does one get a better view of this beautifully mottled moth-hunter than when he flies round a ship in broad daylight, almost brushing,it with his wings. His visit, however, is usually literally a flying one, and I have never known a ,night-jar stay any time on board or let itself be caught there, though showing at the time remarkably little fear of man. But one or two cases of bird passengers with which a closer acquaintance has been possible have occurred to mc ,at different times, accompanied by circumstances of unusual interest. In my first voyage abroad more than ten years ago^ —I was surprised and pleased by _ the appearance on board of a grey shrike, very similar to our winter visitor at home, though not quite identical. The bird joined us in the. Red Sea two days after we left Suez, and so tamed by exhaustion was be, that having at the time ho suitable cage, I let him roost all night on one of the brass fittings of my cabin porthole. Next day he took a cockroach from my fingers, and did not draw the line at one only of this high-flavored delicacy. So that I found no difficulty about his food, and was able on the following day to exhibit him to our sympathetic skipper seated on my finger, and devouring his orthopterous repast as happily as if on his native bush. He still at this time seemed weak on the wing, but by the time we had got to Aden he had quite recovered, and felt able to try his luck again, for the day after leaving port he squeezed through the bars of the cage which the carpenter had constructed for him, and flew out of the saloon skylight, disdaining the cockroach I proffered to him to lure him back. ■For a little while he stayed in. the rigging to shake out his plumage and consider his route, and 1 then headed for land, which I sincerely hope he reached, though it was about six miles off. He had, at all events, scored his passage down the Red Sea. The second stowaway I have lo record was the last I have met and the niost remarkable. As the P. and O. steamer Japan left Colombo harbor on her homeward voyage last December, a crow, which, perched in the rigging, was hungrily watching the cook cutting- up some meat, was carried out to sea, and did not think it worth while, apparently, to make any effort to return. He was not a very prosperous-looking crow, for his face was bare of feathers on one side, and possibly he thought that a sea_ voyage might be of benefit to his constitution. Be- that as it may, he stayed-on board, and was regularly fed; at night he roosted aloft in the rigging. This was well while the weather was calm, but a day or two before we got into Suez it began to blow very kard one night, and m the morning the poor crow was found worn out by his efforts to hold on in the teeth of the wind. With characteristic pru. dence, he determined the nest night to roost under the awning, but the ship's cats showed such a desire to make his closer acquaintance that his friends on board decided that he would be safer caught and caged. He bore his imprisonment with good grace and appetite., like my old friend the shrike, but his adventure had a sad ending. The weather was terribly cold when we reached .England in January, and the poor crow, although he lived to be delivered to the Zoological Gardens, died before lie Lid the opportunity of recounting- his adventures and experiences to his fellow-crows in the Society's aviaries. At any rate he could claim to have made a record as a stowaway that has seldom been equalled, especially by a bird which eschews .migration and foreign adventure to such an extent as does the town-lovino- Indian crow.