International Miscellany of Literature, Art and Science, Vol. 1,: No. 3, Oct. 1, 1850Various
Science
International Miscellany of Literature, Art and Science, Vol. 1,: No. 3, Oct. 1, 1850
Various
Art -- Periodicals; Literature -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
Another species, the great bower-bird,[B] was probably the architect of
the bowers found by Captain Grey during his Australian rambles, and which
interested him greatly in consequence of the doubts entertained by him
whether they were the works of a bird or of a quadruped,--the inclination
of his mind being that their construction was due to the four-footed
animal. They were formed of dead grass and parts of bushes, sunk a slight
depth into two parallel furrows, in sandy soil, and were nicely arched
above; they were always full of broken sea-shells, large heaps of which
also protruded from the extremity of the bower. In one of these bowers,
the most remote from the sea of those discovered by Captain Grey, was a
heap of the stones of some fruit that evidently had been rolled therein.
He never saw any animal in or near these bowers; but the abundant
droppings of a small species of kangaroo close to them, induced him to
suppose them to be the work of some quadruped.
[Footnote B: _Chlamydora nuchalis_.]
Here, then, we have a race of birds whose ingenuity is not merely
directed to the usual; ends of existence, self-preservation, and the
continuation of the species, but to the elegancies and amusements of
life. Their bowers are their ball and assembly rooms; and we are very
much mistaken if they are not, like places of meeting,
For whispering lovers made.
The male satin bower-bird, in the garden at the Regent's Park, is
indefatigable in his assiduity toward the female; and his winning
ways to coax her into the bower conjure up the notion that the soul of
some Damon in the course of his transmigration, has found its way into
his elegant form. He picks up a brilliant feather, flits about with it
before her, and when he has caught her eye adds it to the decorations.
Haste, my Nanette, my lovely maid,
Haste to the bower thy swain has made.
No enchanted prince could act the deferential lover with more delicate or
graceful attention. Poor fellow, the pert, intruding sparrows plague him
abominably; and really it becomes almost an affair of police that some
measures should be adopted for their exclusion. He is subject to fits,
too, and suddenly, without the least apparent warning, falls senseless,
like an epileptic patient; but presently recovers, and busies himself
about the bower. When he has induced the female to enter it, he seems
greatly pleased; alters the disposition of a feather or a shell, as if
hoping that the change may meet her approbation; and looks at her as she
sits coyly under the overarching twigs, and then at the little
arrangement which he has made, and then at her again, till one could
almost fancy that one hears him breathe a sigh. He is still in his
transition dress, and has not yet donned his full Venetian suit of black.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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