Country rambles in England : $b or, Journal of a naturalistKnapp, J. L. (John Leonard)
History
Country rambles in England : $b or, Journal of a naturalist
Knapp, J. L. (John Leonard)
Natural history -- England; Natural history -- Outdoor books
see a large portion of these passengers returning to their worm and
insect food in the meadows, attended probably by many that did not take
flight with them—though a great number remain in the upland pastures,
feeding promiscuously as they can. In my younger days, a keen, unwearied
sportsman, it was always observable, that in hard weather these birds
increased prodigiously in number in the counties far distant from the
meadow lands, though we knew not the reason; and we usually against this
time provided tempting bushes of haws, preserved in a barn, to place in
frequented hedges, near our secret standings. When the fieldfare first
arrives, its flesh is dark, thin, and scurfy; but, having fed a little
time in the hedges, its rump and side veins are covered with fat. This
is, in part, attributable to suppression of perspiration by the cold,
and partly to a nutritive farinaceous food; its flesh at the time
becoming bluish and clean. The upland birds are in this state, from
perhaps the end of November till the end of January, according as the
hedge fruit has held out; and at this period they are comparatively
tame: afterward, though the flights may be large, they become wild; and
the flesh, assuming its darkness, manifests that their food has not been
farinaceous. The distant foreign migrations, which have been stated to
take place from the meadows of the Severn, I believe to be only these
inland trips; and that the supposed migrators returned to those stations
fat and in good condition, owing to their having fed during their
absence on the nutricious berry of the white thorn. I have several times
seen the fruit on our hedges refused by these birds, and this too in no
very temperate season; but in all these cases, the summer had been
ungenial—the berries had not ripened well, they were nipped by the
frosts of October, and hung on the sprays dark in color, small, and
juiceless in substance. The summer of 1825 produced the finest and
largest haws I ever remember. They were in general of a bright red hue,
and filled with farinaceous pulp; and in consequence, though the season
was uncommonly mild and open, long before Christmas, little wandering
parties of these birds consumed the whole of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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