[From Bird-Life in the Isle of Man]

RAVEN

The Raven, in comparison with most places where it is to be found, is decidedly common in the Island wherever the surroundings are suitable, many being found both along the coast line and among the hills and valleys. A most interesting bird and full of character. Tenacious, fierce and severe, easily annoyed and always alert.

Thiese birds, no doubt, pair for life, and the couples will always be seen together. But they are really most interesting when they go through a courting period, which generally begins in December. About this time the male bird throws aside his stately demeanour and coquets when in the air with the most wonderful tumbling tricks, and, when on the ground, with queer little skips and jumps, at the same time uitering his savage "honk". They hold to a nesting territory with the greatest tenacity, nesting again and again even when interfered with, although many of the nesting sites are practically inaccessible. Sometimes such a site may be so plain to sight that one can look right into it. One nest I was able to put my hand into, it was so low down on a rocky ledge in the hills. If anyone approaches the nesting teriitory the big male is out on the wing in a moment, uttering noises like savage growls, and often joined by his mate. They treat their young with impartial severity, for, as soon as the youngsters are able to fly, they are driven forth to fend for themselves. I have several times seen young families in the hills hardly able to fly, and doing what they can on their own account. In the matter of temper, I have known a bird deliberately swoop at a dog which was quite close to its master and strike it in the face; and have known another turn aside near the cliffs at a small flock of goldfinches, strike at them and fly on at once. In the very early spring, it is interesting to watch the birds slowly quartering the ground searching for sheep's wool to line their nests with.

They are, unfortunately, greatly addicted to interfering with sheep and lambs, although in this respect they are not as bad as the Hooded Crow.

At one nesting site, not far from Peel, I watched a splendid aerial combat between a pair of ravens and a female peregrine, which resented their near approach to her nest. High up above our heads they fought, the peregrine ascending above the ravens and then darting down like a flash, while the wicked old raven would then turn its head and big bill over on one side ready to impale her; then the peregrine would recover in a second and bank up once more to try again ; and so it went on for quite twenty minutes, until the ravens withdrew, with many croaks, to their own nest, leaving the falcon in possession of her ground. I have seen a pair of Oyster Catchers — nesting on the west coast — feint at attacking a raven which they evidently thought was after their eggs, and by their persistency, coupled with much caution, get rid of it. It was amusing, one day in March, to see a raven perched on a railing overlooking the cliffs on the Marine Drive near Douglas watching most intently an entirely white rabbit, wondering no doubt, what it was, and whether it would be good to eat.

Apart from the usual deep "honk" of the raven, occasionally are uttered other quaint noises, possibly by the female or a young bird, such as "quork" or on another occasion, a sort of high falsetto " Kork-Kork-Kork ", just like the break in a boy's voice The raven, in moult, is a picture of misery. I have seen four in a field just picking up what they could to eat, and just able to walk about. Savage, intolerant, alert, the Raven is always worth watching, so intensely human is he in many ways.

HOODED CROW

The "Hoodie" or "Grey Crow" is most common in the Island; far too common as those who own sheep tell you. Egg-thief, sheep and lamb killer, it is generally detested, and yet it seems to increase because, like the raven, it nests very largely on inaccessible cliffs, and when it takes to trees, which is not unusual, it nests so high that it is no easy matter lo get at it. I heard of one youth who, one spring boasted of having fifty crows' eggs on a string although it was not imorobable that some were rooks'.

Quite recently a gentleman told me counted fifty "hoodies'' on some trees near Port Soderick, and that there were more than that. I have seen, in the latter part of August, on Snaefell, twenty birds all feeding on one dead sheep. In the case of sheep, they always attack the eyes first and then the hinder parts. They are very fond of rummaging about in the seaweed and anywhere on the shore for any sort of offal, besides molluscs and crabs, or for any wounded bird. In fact, they are to be seen everywhere, and in winter the numbers are no doubt increased by migrants from elsewhere, which appear to be much tamer than the local or resident birds

I fancy that, like the raven, the birds pair for life, but, unlike the raven, they appear to let the young ones stay with them until they are full grown, to judge from the family parties one sees together so often. The nest, which is a very bulky structure, is often lined with oddments; in one which I examined were a piece of rope, feathers, rabbit fur, sheep's wool and cow hair.

I wonder if this bird suffers from indigestion, because I have watched it at times on the shore at Douglas and. elsewhere picking about for food and croaking so wretchedly through it all; and sometimes, when on a tree, I have heard it barking, as it were : a raucous effort which it makes by throwing its body and its head forward on the tips of its toes, as if in pain. One good point about the hoodie is that it is not averse to a good bath in a sea-pool and does it thoroughly. But it is a poor fighter. Once on Cronk-ny-eary-Lhaa I saw a female merlin romp round a hoodie, who was far too slow and did not like it, till it got away to sea out of harm's way ; but it is always very slow and deliberate in its flight, much too slow for a small hawk.

It is a fine bird to look at, but a nasty fellow both in actions and feeding, so no wonder if it possibly suffers from tummy-aches. I have even seen it turning over horse-droppings on the road near Peel for what it could get.

CARRION-CROW

The Carrion-Crow is much like the raven, but smaller and slighter in size, and it is an uncommon bird in the Island, its place being taken by the hooded crow. I once saw a pair in March on the cliffs north of Port Soderick and hoped that they were staying to nest, but I did not see them again. Not far from Fleshwick I saw a hybrid feeding in a field with a hooded crow.

Mr. F. S. Graves introduced me to a most interesting sight on the cliffs. A male carrion was mated to a female hooded crow which had a nest on a ledge of rock below an over-hanging bit of cliff, quite plainly to be seen. The female was on the nest at first, and he was feeding near by: then he perched on a rock near the nest and presently she left the nest and perched near him. What would appear to be the same pair have nested for three years in the same neighbourhood.

Cross-breeding is, I understand, quite common elsewhere ; and as the carrion crow is common in Lancashire and Cumberland, the distance is a mere nothing to a bird of this species.

Indeed, I had under observation a pair, hooded male and carrion female, on Clay Head; they were paired and nested, and are still doing so, to the best of my knowledge. As the years go by more and more catrions come over here, possibly as a holiday resort, and some of them stay.

Recently one pair actually nested, but the nest was destroyed. Since then another pair came under my observation and nested successfully.

ROOK

How different is the rook from the hooded crow.

As a whole, it is an immense asset to the land if only for the fact that it devours wire worms in huge numbers. :

One gentleman in the Island told me about three years ago that he had seen two rooks on a hillside busy on a lamb. Nevertheless, that they are useful is an undeniable fact; and what a lot there are on the Island! It is unnecessary to recapitulate all the rookeries ; there are many and they are constantly changing. Ballakillinghan, Lezayre, and the Nunnery, Douglas, must be about the two biggest.

In April 1925, after a very severe storm, the whole road below the last-named rookery was strewn with the bodies of young birds blown out of the nests. And the nests, rough as they look from the outside, are beautifully finished inside with hair and wool, etc., and quite deep. By this same rookery I one day saw a bird pick up a whole sheet of newspaper lying on the road and carry it up to the nest.

The old birds feed the young for a very long time ; they may be seen bringing food up as late as the middle of May.

It is a pretty sight watching these birds courting ; they can be seen in the winter months in the trees at St. George's Churchyard, Douglas, with much bowing and fanning of tails and low caws.

Another interesting thing about rooks is their fondness for mass meetings, and they are not particular where they hold them.

One day in September, between Ballasalla and St. Mark's, there were literally hundreds, on the road, which hardly took the trouble to get out of the way of my car. Once in December I watched a big crowd of them in a field near Garwick, and three "hoodies" turned up, but they were promptly dealt with — one rook tackling two "hoodies" on its own, and the three had to retreat rapidly to the rocks below.

Rooks are also very fond of the seashore as a place to seek food. How many different species of birds do this?

Change of diet is no doubt good for all creatures.

I once watched one tackling a small marrow-bone on the Douglas shore: it was most interesting the way it gripped the end with the claws of one foot and ran its bill up the inside of the bone; and it very quickly "shooed"' off a gull which wanted to butt in.

Doubtless some will say that the rooks do harm to crops, which may be true to a certain extent, but against that it may be said safely that the good they do in destroying many pests largely counterbalances the harm. Also it is as well to be not too fond of walking about under a rookery when it is in full swing, for rooks are not respecters of passers-by, however nicely dressed !

JACKDAW

The Jackdaw is too well known to need any comments from me. It is in vast numbers in the Island, and is often to be seen in company with rooks out in the fields,

It nests in many and varied places, from house chimneys either in town or country — and, in chimneys, it will build up a vast construction for laying its eggs in — to the more sandy cliffs where it is not averse to a ready-made rabbit hole.

It is surprising what big sticks it will break off the trees wherewith to build its nest.

The courting of the male birds is carried on mostly in the air; I have watched a bird planing round his mate high up, or varying this with wonderful darts and whirls, at times uttering noises like a grunt. The nestlings are queer little fellows, with great splay yellow bill and naked body with steel-blue sprouts of feathers.

Sometimes the birds will be found in a field in vast numbers, apparently holding a meeting. They try too frequently to interfere with other birds, and on one occasion I saw a big mistle-thrush in a garden savagely chase a jackdaw away with great rushings and chatterings, because it approached too near to the former's domain.

Once near Port Soderick I saw a number of jackdaws flying about above the cliffs, and two collided, apparently quite by accident, so violently that one was knocked down a cleft in the rocks, dead to all appearances: the other had to sit on the ground for some time, very shaken and dazed, but not badly damaged.

These birds are not infrequently seen with a good deal of white. I have seen one with both wings about half white: another, feeding in Douglas Harbour, with white rump and tail, and the under-wing coverts quite white, which looked very peculiar when flying ; and another with a broad white wing-bar.

The jackdaw is a sociable bird, and, when moving about on the ground, inclined to be fussy, and rather too fond of other birds' eggs and young.

MAGPIE

The Magpie is to be found in great numbers all over the Island and does not seem to mind where it nests, whether in damp or dry localities, in high trees or low bushes. I have been able to put my hand into a nest in a young larch. I once found a nest on the ground near Port St. Mary ; of this latter there was a photo taken, which the late T. A. Coward possessed.

A handsome bird with a raucous voice and a conspicuous tail, it is amusing to watch, sometimes walking, sometimes hopping, always very busy, always alert : fond of having meetings: often found mixed up with a crowd of rooks: most independent.

Near Crogga, on one occasion, a weasel was crossing a field; a magpie and two herring gulls spotted it and chased it. There was a race for life, and the weasel just won as it dived into the hedge.

Mr. T. A. Coward wisely asserts that the Chough has sadly decreased or even vanished from its old haunts in England: in the Isle of Man, on the other hand, it is increasing, certainly in some parts, although I am doubtful if it is so much to be seen inland.

I am at once reminded of one nesting place inland which has recently been commandeered by a "hoodie". Where I know of its nesting most abundantly, it is not so much worried by the jackdaws, which oust it so frequently from most territories. Further, it has the sense to place its nest, as a rule, in most inaccessible places, thereby thwarting would-be depredators. One sees the beautiful creature soar round its nest uttering a plaintive "mew"; it appears to be such a gentle being, one does not feel surprised that it does not keep its place in the world, and is driven from its favourite haunts. It loves to get some deep crevice as its nesting place. One nest on the west coast was practically all wool and beautifully made. The young are quaint little chaps, each with the weirdest great bill, naked belly and pink legs, the wings quite featherless with their ends just like a thumb and small finger. It is a pretty sight to see choughs playing about in the air, especially at courting time, with graceful twistings and tumblings ; the wing is always noticeable in flight, with the feathers spread open like the fingers of a hand. The call, not unlike its name, is very distinctive.

I have seen ten or twelve birds at one time following behind a ploughman in a field, feeding and calling happily. I have seen as many as thirty together wheeling round the great cliffs; in one place I saw so many in the month of August that it was remarked that they were as common as jackdaws.

It is indeed to be hoped that the chough will continue to increase, for there is nothing more enjoyable on a walk than to have the chance of watching this graceful creature, whether it is on the ground or in the air.

STARLING

The Starling increases year by year; it is to be seen everywhere in vast flocks and is equally at home in the fields and on the shore. It is, no doubt, a most useful bird, as it will devour insects of all sorts; and it is interesting to see crowds of them turning over piles of seaweed for the hosts of insects which breed there, with a constant chatter going on all the time.

When moving from place to place or collecting, in the evening, their aerial evolutions are wonderful, as they open out or close up; I have seen them up with a big lot of rooks, mostly moving round in a vast grey circle, as it appears from below. Then they collect finally in some roosting place, for preference fairly low bushes, where they still continue their chattering at intervals.

They always appear to be in a hurry, even in their nesting operations; the nests untidy structures, of straw, string or anything that may have been picked up in their haste. It is the same with their feeding of the young. I watched a bird at a nesting hole in a tree near St. John\u2019s, hanging on to the bark for all the world like a wood-pecker, hastily stuffing the food into the youngsters and then off with a spring and a scream. And any old place does for a nest !

What a beautiful bird it is; it needs to be handled to fully realize its colour charms.

The starling, with all its noisy chattering and whistling, can imitate other birds to a surprising degree : I have heard it get the curlew's note to a nicety. Once I heard one get a corn-bunting "Wheeze" in the most remarkable way. I'll swear it had sat there and listened to the latter close by, and then taken it off to the life. It can also exactly imitate a golden oriole. With all their haste, however, I saw a small flock fairly caught on the hop by a sparrow-hawk near Eary Dam, as it came speeding along the top of the hedge, causing a rapid scattering, and bagging, I fancy, one victim. On the whole the starling is a useful person, and full of life and bustle, and it will go on thriving and increasing.

It is also a great traveller: the fact of being able to imitate the oriole would suggest a sojourn in Holland, where the oriole is common in places. A ringed bird was picked up dead in the Nunnery grounds. I was able to find out that it had been originally ringed near Dantzig.

GREENFINCH

The Greenfinch, next to the chaffinch, is the commonest finch in the Island. Indeed, I am not sure if, during the winter months when many birds appear to arrive from elsewhere, they do not out-number the chaffinches: some of the flocks in the fields and around the farmyards are enormous, inter-mingled with other species. There is also a considerable immi- eration in the early spring, generally during March. And what a very beautiful bird it is in the hand! I have had several live ones in the porch of my house, such lovely blendings of greens and yellows.

It is also, naturally, a very prolific nester, and to be found everywhere where there are suitable bushes and shrubs; and many will.be found nesting near each other, as a rule.

The bird builds a big, untidy nest, though snug enough inside. From observations, I am inclined to. think that the female does the lion's share of the building. I was amused watching one, early in May, collecting grasses for the nest. She got her mouth so full that it looked like a huge moustache; however, she managed to rise, and literally staggered off to a place at the end of the garden. The bird is a very close sitter, especially when the eggs are well incubated ; she will sit so tight that no amount of looking at her will move her. It is no wonder that there are so many of them about, as it is not unusual for three broods to be attempted in the year, and, even allowing for losses by robbing and other causes, it must leave a good margin. And they nest very late. I watched a nest of four eggs in my garden: the bird sat from August 15th, and on the 25th the four youngsters were hatched out. Alas, on September oth, after some very bad weather, I found them all drowned. There are many other in- stances of late nesting. Yet a majority of birds will be collecting by late July to take to the fields in flocks, or for movements elsewhere, it may be. And there is no more beautiful sight in the dull winter days than to watch a crowd of them, interspersed with equally fine yellow-hammers and chaffinches and others, turning over the ground in the stack-yards and fields, and to observe the sudden flight, as if working with one mind, to the nearest hedge, with a continuous twitter; and then, in a few moments, the return flight to the same, or another, piece of ground. The bird does not confine itself to these places, as many may often be seen on the seashore turning over and picking at the seaweed and wrack on the sand or the rocks.

The greenfinch produces a curious medley of ugly and pretty notes. I know of nothing more wearisome after a time than its melancholy drawn-out "Dwee" through the spring and summer months: and yet what can be more sweet to listen to than the almost canary-like call, something like "pee-oo", especially when a pair are, as it were, cooing to each other.

It is a gentle, busy little bird, doing far more good than harm.

GOLDFINCH

Whatever the reason be, whether it is that it cannot find sufficient food here, or, as has been suggested, its scarcity is caused by bird-catchers, the fact remains that the Goldfinch is to-day a very scarce bird in the Island, although, as Mr. P. G. Ralfe says in his book, it was, years ago, a well-known bird. I believe that it is at times seen in the autumn in fair numbers in the north of the Island. Yet it still comes here, and I would wish that it would and could stay; so beautiful a bird is badly missed in the country-side. Quite recently, on the east coast, I have seen fair numbers, as many as twenty or so together, and it was delightful to hear their twittering notes in an uncultivated thistle-grown patch. I have known it nest of late years in several places on the west side: in one garden it hatched out young successfully for three years running, and then it came no more. It is to my mind a reproach that, in France, where the smallest birds are shot down, the bird still flourishes in numbers ; and yet here it does not seem to be able to get a fair chance.

There is nothing more beautiful than the nest of the goldfinch securely built in fork of an apple-tree and largely composed of moss (even more elegant than that of the chaffinch), with the added pleasure of the soft and charming song which is far more delightful in the open country than in a cage. May the day come when it will once miore flourish in the fields and gardens, to add to the Island joys.