The _Circæetus leucopsis_, which has a particular affection for serpent-haunted districts;
The _Haliætus leucocephala_, with head and tail of a milky white, belonging to the north of Europe and America; and
The _Neophron percnopterus_, or Egyptian eagle, of carrion-like odour, which is sometimes met with in the neighbourhood of Geneva.
The tawny-headed vulture (_Vultur fulvus_), and the ashy vulture (_Vultur cinereus_), with gray-brown mouth, and a brownish collar round his bare neck, are extremely rare in Switzerland.
But we now take leave of the eagle, and turn our attention to the lowly wren, whose charming but simple music has been described in charming but simple verse by Bishop Mant:--
"The quick note of the russet wren, Familiar to the haunts of men; He quits in hollowed wall his bower, And through the winter's gloomy hour Sings cheerily; nor yet hath lost His blitheness, chilled by pinching frost, Nor yet is forced for warmth to cleave To caverned nook or straw-built cave,-- Sing, gentle bird! sing on, designed A lesson for our anxious kind, That we, like thee, with hearts content"----
The wren here referred to is a British species, the common wren, or _Troglodytes vulgaris_, one of the smallest of our British songsters; a restless, lively bird, which twitters about the hedgerows in summer, and about the garden and shrubbery in winter, and chanting his mellow song even under the gloomy sky of December. Allied to this familiar bird is the Gold-crowned Knight,[22] or _Sylvia regulus_, which is found in the Alpine deserts at an elevation of 9000 to 10,000 feet. Like our own Jenny Wren, he has a very fine, slender bill, which denotes his insectivorous propensities. He is easily known by the little crest of silky feathers which he wears on his head, like a diadem, and also by his peculiar cry of _souci-î-î-î_.
Our crowned knight is very partial to the society of the tits, and, like them, he is easily caught with birdlime. He is so fond of the company of other birds, that, when he finds himself alone, he becomes disquieted; his prolonged tiny chirp grows plaintive; and he flies to and fro in quest of comrades. He may be regarded as a trustworthy barometer, for, prior to rainy weather, his song is very loud and incessant. Devoted to the pursuit of insects or their larvæ, he seems to pay no attention to the passer-by; he flutters vivaciously from branch to branch, and puts himself in all imaginable positions, sometimes with his head upwards, sometimes with his head downwards. We have often watched, with extreme gratification, the acrobatic tricks of our Lilliputian gymnast. Occasionally, before he perches, you will see him, in a frenzy of indecision, rapidly agitating his wings, and revolving them like a wheel. If you look at him, while thus engaged, _against_ the light, you will think you see a tiny, ethereal, diaphanous spinning-top. After "assisting" at such a spectacle, which the first wood will furnish, you will not be indisposed to admit with us, that the bird designated by the Greeks τροχιλος, or "little wheel," and whose identity has so often been discussed, was, in reality, our golden-crested knight. Moreover, he is a true cosmopolite, in every acceptation of the word. Not only does he never quit us, not only does he remain faithful to us throughout the year, but we meet with him over all Europe. He is also found in Asia, and even, it is said, in America, from the West Indies to Canada. His flight being very short, it is supposed that he passed from one hemisphere to another by way of Behring's Strait. It is certain, at all events, that he discovered the New World before Christopher Columbus.