There are over ninety species of kingfisher, with many living in forests and savannahs, far from water & fish. In Europe the Common kingfisher is the most widespread, with two others appearing in Eastern Europe.
The majority of species are found in the islands between South-East Asia and Australia. They vary greatly in size, from the 47cm Kookaburra (of which there are two on display within the museum) to the African Dwarf Kingfisher at only 10cm.
‘There is, unfortunately, a certain class of prowling gunners who never can resist a shot at this beautiful an harmless little bird; beautiful it certainly is, though its beauty departs with its life, as the effigies one sees in the windows of the ordinary taxidermist are only a caricature of the living bird.
The Kingfisher is well known to anglers as a sociable companion on the banks of the streams they both love so well.
During the autumn I have, in days gone by, often noticed as many as forty or fifty of these birds fishing in the channels among the mudbanks in the Nook, at Rye, in Sussex. They used to commence working down the creeks soon after the turn of the tide, and closely following the falling water they found abundant food in the numerous shallow pools. About half-flood they used generally to make a move, flying up the creeks, and so on to the small drains that led through the marshes, and then dispersing themselves over the levels. I have occasionally observed a score of two fly past in small parties of threes and fours within a quarter of an hour while I was watching them from the shingle banks close at hand – one or two now and then steadying themselves for a moment, and then making a dash after a shrimp or small sea fish.
Fifteen years make a difference in most things; the mudbanks and creeks are certainly gone, and I expect the numerous parties of Kingfishers that frequented them remain only in the memory of those that have had the pleasure of watching them.
The last time I visited the spot, some fine specimens of Southdown mutton were grazing stolidly and complacently on the luxuriant turf that had formed where previously hundreds of acres of mudbanks were covered by every flowing tide.
I see that this habit of coming down to the salt water, and occasionally into the harbours, is common all along the south coast during autumn.
In the Broad districts in the eastern counties the are not nearly so common as might be expected.
While Snipe shooting one winter round Hickling Broad, in Norfolk, I noticed some small object splashing in the water at the side of a dyke, and on proceeding to the spot I discovered an unfortunate Kingfisher that had come to grief in a rather singular manner. The bird had evidently at some former time been struck by a shot, which had passed through the upper mandible. This wound was quite healed up, but a small piece of the horny substance of the beak had been splintered, and into the crack produced by the fracture, two or three of the fine fibres which form part of the flowers or seeds of the reed were so firmly fixed, that the bird was held fast. It must have been flying up the dyke, and, brushing too closely to the reeds that grew on the banks, been caught in the manner described.
The struggles of the captive had broken dowm the reed, which was lying flat on the water, except when lifted up by the victim in his vain attempts to escape. On being cleared from his unpleasant position he flew off, apparently none the worse for the mishap.
The specimens in the case were shot between Shoreham and Lancing, in Sussex, in January, 1871, the case itself being copied from a small sluice on the saltings in Shoreham Harbour.’
