The Descent of Man – Day 95 of 151

Vocal and Instrumental Music

With birds the voice serves to express various emotions, such as distress, fear, anger, triumph, or mere happiness. It is apparently sometimes used to excite terror, as in the case of the hissing noise made by some nestling-birds. Audubon (25. ‘Ornithological Biography,’ vol. v. p. 601.), relates that a night-heron (Ardea nycticorax, Linn.), which he kept tame, used to hide itself when a cat approached, and then “suddenly start up uttering one of the most frightful cries, apparently enjoying the cat’s alarm and flight.” The common domestic cock clucks to the hen, and the hen to her chickens, when a dainty morsel is found. The hen, when she has laid an egg, “repeats the same note very often, and concludes with the sixth above, which she holds for a longer time” (26. The Hon. Daines Barrington, ‘Philosophical Transactions,’ 1773, p. 252.); and thus she expresses her joy. Some social birds apparently call to each other for aid; and as they flit from tree to tree, the flock is kept together by chirp answering chirp. During the nocturnal migrations of geese and other water-fowl, sonorous clangs from the van may be heard in the darkness overhead, answered by clangs in the rear. Certain cries serve as danger signals, which, as the sportsman knows to his cost, are understood by the same species and by others. The domestic cock crows, and the humming-bird chirps, in triumph over a defeated rival. The true song, however, of most birds and various strange cries are chiefly uttered during the breeding-season, and serve as a charm, or merely as a call-note, to the other sex.

Naturalists are much divided with respect to the object of the singing of birds. Few more careful observers ever lived than Montagu, and he maintained that the “males of song-birds and of many others do not in general search for the female, but, on the contrary, their business in the spring is to perch on some conspicuous spot, breathing out their full and armorous notes, which, by instinct, the female knows, and repairs to the spot to choose her mate.” (27. ‘Ornithological Dictionary,’ 1833, p. 475.) Mr. Jenner Weir informs me that this is certainly the case with the nightingale. Bechstein, who kept birds during his whole life, asserts, “that the female canary always chooses the best singer, and that in a state of nature the female finch selects that male out of a hundred whose notes please her most.” (28. ‘Naturgeschichte der Stubenvogel,’ 1840, s. 4. Mr. Harrison Weir likewise writes to me:–“I am informed that the best singing males generally get a mate first, when they are bred in the same room.”) There can be no doubt that birds closely attend to each other’s song. Mr. Weir has told me of the case of a bullfinch which had been taught to pipe a German waltz, and who was so good a performer that he cost ten guineas; when this bird was first introduced into a room where other birds were kept and he began to sing, all the others, consisting of about twenty linnets and canaries, ranged themselves on the nearest side of their cages, and listened with the greatest interest to the new performer. Many naturalists believe that the singing of birds is almost exclusively “the effect of rivalry and emulation,” and not for the sake of charming their mates. This was the opinion of Daines Barrington and White of Selborne, who both especially attended to this subject. (29. ‘Philosophical Transactions,’ 1773, p. 263. White’s ‘Natural History of Selborne,’ 1825, vol. i. p. 246.) Barrington, however, admits that “superiority in song gives to birds an amazing ascendancy over others, as is well known to bird-catchers.”

It is certain that there is an intense degree of rivalry between the males in their singing. Bird-fanciers match their birds to see which will sing longest; and I was told by Mr. Yarrell that a first-rate bird will sometimes sing till he drops down almost dead, or according to Bechstein (30. ‘Naturgesch. der Stubenvogel,’ 1840, s. 252.), quite dead from rupturing a vessel in the lungs. Whatever the cause may be, male birds, as I hear from Mr. Weir, often die suddenly during the season of song. That the habit of singing is sometimes quite independent of love is clear, for a sterile, hybrid canary-bird has been described (31. Mr. Bold, ‘Zoologist,’ 1843-44, p. 659.) as singing whilst viewing itself in a mirror, and then dashing at its own image; it likewise attacked with fury a female canary, when put into the same cage. The jealousy excited by the act of singing is constantly taken advantage of by bird-catchers; a male, in good song, is hidden and protected, whilst a stuffed bird, surrounded by limed twigs, is exposed to view. In this manner, as Mr. Weir informs me, a man has in the course of a single day caught fifty, and in one instance, seventy, male chaffinches. The power and inclination to sing differ so greatly with birds that although the price of an ordinary male chaffinch is only sixpence, Mr. Weir saw one bird for which the bird-catcher asked three pounds; the test of a really good singer being that it will continue to sing whilst the cage is swung round the owner’s head.

That male birds should sing from emulation as well as for charming the female, is not at all incompatible; and it might have been expected that these two habits would have concurred, like those of display and pugnacity. Some authors, however, argue that the song of the male cannot serve to charm the female, because the females of some few species, such as of the canary, robin, lark, and bullfinch, especially when in a state of widowhood, as Bechstein remarks, pour forth fairly melodious strains. In some of these cases the habit of singing may be in part attributed to the females having been highly fed and confined (32. D. Barrington, ‘Philosophical Transactions,’ 1773, p. 262. Bechstein, ‘Stubenvogel,’ 1840, s. 4.), for this disturbs all the functions connected with the reproduction of the species. Many instances have already been given of the partial transference of secondary masculine characters to the female, so that it is not at all surprising that the females of some species should possess the power of song. It has also been argued, that the song of the male cannot serve as a charm, because the males of certain species, for instance of the robin, sing during the autumn. (33. This is likewise the case with the water-ouzel; see Mr. Hepburn in the ‘Zoologist,’ 1845-46, p. 1068.) But nothing is more common than for animals to take pleasure in practising whatever instinct they follow at other times for some real good. How often do we see birds which fly easily, gliding and sailing through the air obviously for pleasure? The cat plays with the captured mouse, and the cormorant with the captured fish. The weaver-bird (Ploceus), when confined in a cage, amuses itself by neatly weaving blades of grass between the wires of its cage. Birds which habitually fight during the breeding-season are generally ready to fight at all times; and the males of the capercailzie sometimes hold their Balzen or leks at the usual place of assemblage during the autumn. (34. L. Lloyd, ‘Game Birds of Sweden,’ 1867, p. 25.) Hence it is not at all surprising that male birds should continue singing for their own amusement after the season for courtship is over.

As shewn in a previous chapter, singing is to a certain extent an art, and is much improved by practice. Birds can be taught various tunes, and even the unmelodious sparrow has learnt to sing like a linnet. They acquire the song of their foster parents (35. Barrington, ibid. p. 264, Bechstein, ibid. s. 5.), and sometimes that of their neighbours. (36. Dureau de la Malle gives a curious instance (‘Annales des Sc. Nat.’ 3rd series, Zoolog., tom. x. p. 118) of some wild blackbirds in his garden in Paris, which naturally learnt a republican air from a caged bird.) All the common songsters belong to the Order of Insessores, and their vocal organs are much more complex than those of most other birds; yet it is a singular fact that some of the Insessores, such as ravens, crows, and magpies, possess the proper apparatus (37. Bishop, in ‘Todd’s Cyclopaedia of Anatomy and Physiology,’ vol. iv. p. 1496.), though they never sing, and do not naturally modulate their voices to any great extent. Hunter asserts (38. As stated by Barrington in ‘Philosophical Transactions,’ 1773, p. 262.) that with the true songsters the muscles of the larynx are stronger in the males than in the females; but with this slight exception there is no difference in the vocal organs of the two sexes, although the males of most species sing so much better and more continuously than the females.

It is remarkable that only small birds properly sing. The Australian genus Menura, however, must be excepted; for the Menura Alberti, which is about the size of a half-grown turkey, not only mocks other birds, but “its own whistle is exceedingly beautiful and varied.” The males congregate and form “corroborying places,” where they sing, raising and spreading their tails like peacocks, and drooping their wings. (39. Gould, ‘Handbook to the Birds of Australia,’ vol. i. 1865, pp. 308-310. See also Mr. T.W. Wood in the ‘Student,’ April 1870, p. 125.) It is also remarkable that birds which sing well are rarely decorated with brilliant colours or other ornaments. Of our British birds, excepting the bullfinch and goldfinch, the best songsters are plain-coloured. The kingfisher, bee-eater, roller, hoopoe, woodpeckers, etc., utter harsh cries; and the brilliant birds of the tropics are hardly ever songsters. (40. See remarks to this effect in Gould’s ‘Introduction to the Trochilidae,’ 1861, p. 22.) Hence bright colours and the power of song seem to replace each other. We can perceive that if the plumage did not vary in brightness, or if bright colours were dangerous to the species, other means would be employed to charm the females; and melody of voice offers one such means.

Tetrao cupido:  male.  (T.W. Wood.)

Figure 39: Tetrao cupido: male. (T.W. Wood.)

In some birds the vocal organs differ greatly in the two sexes. In the Tetrao cupido (Fig. 39) the male has two bare, orange-coloured sacks, one on each side of the neck; and these are largely inflated when the male, during the breeding-season, makes his curious hollow sound, audible at a great distance. Audubon proved that the sound was intimately connected with this apparatus (which reminds us of the air-sacks on each side of the mouth of certain male frogs), for he found that the sound was much diminished when one of the sacks of a tame bird was pricked, and when both were pricked it was altogether stopped. The female has “a somewhat similar, though smaller naked space of skin on the neck; but this is not capable of inflation.” (41. ‘The Sportsman and Naturalist in Canada,’ by Major W. Ross King, 1866, pp. 144-146. Mr. T.W. Wood gives in the ‘Student’ (April 1870, p. 116) an excellent account of the attitude and habits of this bird during its courtship. He states that the ear-tufts or neck-plumes are erected, so that they meet over the crown of the head. See his drawing, Fig. 39.) The male of another kind of grouse (Tetrao urophasianus), whilst courting the female, has his “bare yellow oesophagus inflated to a prodigious size, fully half as large as the body”; and he then utters various grating, deep, hollow tones. With his neck-feathers erect, his wings lowered, and buzzing on the ground, and his long pointed tail spread out like a fan, he displays a variety of grotesque attitudes. The oesophagus of the female is not in any way remarkable. (42. Richardson, ‘Fauna Bor. American: Birds,’ 1831, p. 359. Audubon, ibid. vol. iv. p. 507.)

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