Ornithological biography, Vol. 2 (of 5) (part 3 of 4)
THE LIVE-OAKERS.
The greater part of the forests of East Florida principally consists of what in that country are called "Pine Barrens." In these districts, the woods are rather thin, and the only trees that are seen in them are tall pines of rather indifferent quality, beneath which is a growth of rank grass, here and there mixed with low bushes and sword palmettoes. The soil is of a sandy nature, mostly flat, and consequently either covered with water during the rainy season, or parched in the summer and autumn, although you meet at times with ponds of stagnant water, where the cattle, which are abundant, allay their thirst, and around which resort the various kinds of game found in these wilds.
The traveller, who has pursued his course for many miles over the barrens, is suddenly delighted to see in the distance the appearance of a dark "hummock" of live oaks and other trees, seeming as if they had been planted in the wilderness. As he approaches, the air feels cooler and more salubrious, the song of numerous birds delights his ear, the herbage assumes a more luxuriant appearance, the flowers become larger and brighter, and a grateful fragrance is diffused around. These objects contribute to refresh his mind, as much as the sight of the waters of some clear spring, gliding among the undergrowth, seems already to allay his thirst. Over head festoons of innumerable vines, jessamines, and bignonias, link each tree with those around it, their slender stems being interlaced as if in mutual affection. No sooner, in the shade of these beautiful woods, has the traveller finished his mid-day repast, than he perceives small parties of men lightly accoutred, and each bearing an axe, approaching towards his resting place. They exchange the usual civilities, and immediately commence their labours, for they too have just finished their meal.
I think I see them proceeding to their work. Here two have stationed themselves on the opposite sides of the trunk of a noble and venerable live-oak. Their keen-edged and well-tempered axes seem to make no impression on it, so small are the chips that drop at each blow around the mossy and wide-spreading roots. There, one is ascending the stem of another, of which, in its fall, the arms have stuck among the tangled tops of the neighbouring trees. See how cautiously he proceeds, barefooted, and with a handkerchief round his head. Now he has climbed to the height of about forty feet from the ground; he stops, and squaring himself with the trunk on which he so boldly stands, he wields with sinewy arms his trusty blade, the repeated blows of which, although the tree be as tough as it is large, will soon sever it in two. He has changed sides, and his back is turned to you. The trunk now remains connected by only a thin stripe of wood. He places his feet on the part which is lodged, and shakes it with all his might. Now swings the huge log under his leaps, now it suddenly gives way, and as it strikes upon the ground its echoes are repeated through the hummock, and every wild turkey within hearing utters his gobble of recognition. The wood-cutter, however, remains collected and composed; but the next moment, he throws his axe to the ground, and, assisted by the nearest grape-vine, slides down and reaches the earth in an instant.
Several men approach and examine the prostrate trunk. They cut at both its extremities, and sound the whole of its bark, to enable them to judge if the tree has been attacked by the white rot. If such has unfortunately been the case, there, for a century or more, this huge log will remain until it gradually crumbles; but if not, and if it is free of injury or "wind-shakes," while there is no appearance of the sap having already ascended, and its pores are altogether sound, they proceed to take its measurement. Its shape ascertained, and the timber that is fit for use laid out by the aid of models, which, like fragments of the skeleton of a ship, shew the forms and sizes required, the "hewers" commence their labours. Thus, reader, perhaps every known hummock in the Floridas is annually attacked, and so often does it happen that the white-rot or some other disease has deteriorated the quality of the timber, that the woods may be seen strewn with trunks that have been found worthless, so that every year these valuable oaks are becoming scarcer. The destruction of the young trees of this species caused by the fall of the great trunks is of course immense, and as there are no artificial plantations of these trees in our country, before long a good sized live-oak will be so valuable that its owner will exact an enormous price for it, even while it yet stands in the wood. In my opinion, formed on personal observation, Live-oak Hummocks are not quite so plentiful as they are represented to be, and of this I will give you one illustration.
On the 25th of February 1832, I happened to be far up the St John's River in East Florida, in the company of a person employed by our government in protecting the live-oaks of that section of the country, and who received a good salary for his trouble. While we were proceeding along one of the banks of that most singular stream, my companion pointed out some large hummocks of dark-leaved trees on the opposite side, which he said were entirely formed of live-oaks. I thought differently, and as our controversy on the subject became a little warm, I proposed that our men should row us to the place, where we might examine the leaves and timber, and so decide the point. We soon landed, but after inspecting the woods, not a single tree of the species did we find, although there were thousands of large "swamp-oaks." My companion acknowledged his mistake, and I continued to search for birds.
One dark evening as I was seated on the banks of the same river, considering what arrangements I should make for the night, as it began to rain in torrents, a man who happened to see me, came up and invited me to go to his cabin, which he said was not far off. I accepted his kind offer, and followed him to his humble dwelling. There I found his wife, several children, and a number of men, who, as my host told me, were, like himself, Live-Oakers. Supper was placed on a large table, and on being desired to join the party, I willingly assented, doing my best to diminish the contents of the tin pans and dishes set before the company by the active and agreeable housewife. We then talked of the country, its climate and productions, until a late hour, when we laid ourselves down on bears' skins, and reposed till day-break.
I longed to accompany these hardy wood-cutters to the hummock where they were engaged in preparing live-oak timber for a man of war. Provided with axes and guns, we left the house to the care of the wife and children, and proceeded for several miles through a pine-barren, such as I have attempted to describe. One fine wild Turkey was shot, and when we arrived at the Shantee put up near the hummock, we found another party of wood-cutters waiting our arrival, before eating their breakfast, already prepared by a Negro man, to whom the turkey was consigned to be roasted for part of that day's dinner.
Our repast was an excellent one, and vied with a Kentucky breakfast: beef, fish, potatoes, and other vegetables, were served up, with coffee in tin cups, and plenty of biscuit. Every man seemed hungry and happy, and the conversation assumed the most humorous character. The sun now rose above the trees, and all, excepting the cook, proceeded to the hummock, on which I had been gazing with great delight, as it promised rare sport. My host, I found, was the chief of the party; and although he also had an axe, he made no other use of it than for stripping here and there pieces of bark from certain trees which he considered of doubtful soundness. He was not only well versed in his profession, but generally intelligent, and from him I received the following account, which I noted at the time.
The men who are employed in cutting the live oak, after having discovered a good hummock, build shantees of small logs, to retire to at night, and feed in by day. Their provisions consist of beef, pork, potatoes, biscuit, flour, rice, and fish, together with excellent whisky. They are mostly hale, strong, and active men, from the eastern parts of the Union, and receive excellent wages, according to their different abilities. Their labours are only of a few months' duration. Such hummocks as are found near navigable streams are first chosen, and when it is absolutely necessary, the timber is sometimes hauled five or six miles to the nearest water-course, where, although it sinks, it can, with comparative ease, be shipped to its destination. The best time for cutting the live oak is considered to be from the first of December to the beginning of March, or while the sap is completely down. When the sap is flowing, the tree is "bloom," and more apt to be "shaken." The white-rot, which occurs so frequently in the live-oak, and is perceptible only by the best judges, consists of round spots, about an inch and a half in diameter, on the outside of the bark, through which, at that spot, a hard stick may be driven several inches, and generally follows the heart up or down the trunk of the tree. So deceiving are these spots and trees to persons unacquainted with this defect, that thousands of trees are cut and afterwards abandoned. The great number of trees of this sort strewn in the woods would tend to make a stranger believe that there is much more good oak in the country than there really is; and perhaps, in reality, not more than one-fourth of the quantity usually reported, is to be procured.
The Live-oakers generally revisit their distant homes in the Middle and Eastern Districts, where they spend the summer, returning to the Floridas at the approach of winter. Some, however, who have gone there with their families, remain for years in succession; although they suffer much from the climate, by which their once good constitutions are often greatly impaired. This was the case with the individual above mentioned, from whom I subsequently received much friendly assistance in my pursuits.
THE GOSHAWK.
FALCO PALUMBARIUS, LINN.
PLATE CXLI. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG MALE (WITH ADULT STANLEY HAWK).
The Goshawk is of rare occurrence in most parts of the United States, and the districts of North America to which it usually retires to breed are as yet unknown. Some individuals nestle within the Union, others in the British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, but the greater part seem to proceed farther north. I saw none, however, in Labrador, but was informed that they are plentiful in the wooded parts of Newfoundland. On returning from the north, they make their appearance in the Middle States about the beginning of September, and after that season range to very great distances. I have found them rather abundant in the lower parts of Kentucky and Indiana, and in severe winters I have seen a few even in Louisiana. In the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, and at the Falls of Niagara, I have observed them breeding. During autumn and winter, they are common in Maine, as well as in Nova Scotia, where I have seen six or seven specimens that were procured by a single person in the course of a season. At Pictou, Professor MACCULLOCH shewed me about a dozen well mounted specimens of both sexes, and of different ages, which he had procured in the neighbourhood. In that country, they prey on hares, the Canada Grous, the Ruffed Grous, and Wild Ducks. In Maine, they are so daring as to come to the very door of the farmer's house, and carry off chickens and ducks with such rapidity as generally to elude all attempts to shoot them. When residing in Kentucky I shot a great number of these birds, particularly, one cold winter, near Henderson, when I killed a dozen or more on the ice in Canoe Creek, where I generally surprised them by approaching the deep banks of that stream with caution, and not unfrequently almost above them, when their escape was rendered rather difficult. They there caught mallards with ease, and after killing them turned them belly upwards, and ate only the flesh of the breast, pulling the feathers with great neatness, and throwing them round the bird, as if it had been plucked by the hand of man.
The flight of the Goshawk is extremely rapid and protracted. He sweeps along the margins of the fields, through the woods, and by the edges of ponds and rivers, with such speed as to enable him to seize his prey by merely deviating a few yards from his course, assisting himself on such occasions by his long tail, which, like a rudder, he throws to the right or left, upwards or downwards, to check his progress, or enable him suddenly to alter his course. At times he passes like a meteor through the underwood, where he secures squirrels and hares with ease. Should a flock of Wild Pigeons pass him when on these predatory excursions, he immediately gives chase, soon overtakes them, and forcing his way into the very centre of the flock, scatters them in confusion, when you may see him emerging with a bird in his talons, and diving towards the depth of the forest to feed upon his victim. When travelling, he flies high, with a constant beat of the wings, seldom moving in large circles like other hawks, and when he does this, it is only a few times in a hurried manner, after which he continues his journey.
Along the Atlantic coast, this species follows the numerous flocks of ducks that are found there during autumn and winter, and greatly aids in the destruction of Mallards, Teals, Black Ducks, and other species, in company with the Peregrine Falcon. It is a restless bird, apparently more vigilant and industrious than many other Hawks, and seldom alights unless to devour its prey; nor can I recollect ever having seen one alighted for many minutes at a time, without having a bird in its talons. When thus engaged with its prey, it stands nearly upright, and in general, when perched, it keeps itself more erect than most species of Hawk. It is extremely expert at catching Snipes on the wing, and so well do these birds know their insecurity, that, on his approach, they prefer squatting.
When the Passenger Pigeons are abundant in the western country, the Goshawk follows their close masses, and subsists upon them. A single hawk suffices to spread the greatest terror among their ranks, and the moment he sweeps towards a flock, the whole immediately dive into the deepest woods, where, notwithstanding their great speed, the marauder succeeds in clutching the fattest. While travelling along the Ohio, I observed several Hawks of this species in the train of millions of these Pigeons. Towards the evening of the same day, I saw one abandoning its course, to give chase to a large flock of Crow Blackbirds (Quiscalus versicolor), then crossing the river. The Hawk approached them with the swiftness of an arrow, when the Blackbirds rushed together so closely that the flock looked like a dusky ball passing through the air. On reaching the mass, he, with the greatest ease, seized first one, then another, and another, giving each a squeeze with his talons, and suffering it to drop upon the water. In this manner, he had procured four or five before the poor birds reached the woods, into which they instantly plunged, when he gave up the chase, swept over the water in graceful curves, and picked up the fruits of his industry, carrying each bird singly to the shore. Reader, is this instinct or reason?
The nest of the Goshawk is placed on the branches of a tree, near the trunk or main stem. It is of great size, and resembles that of our Crow, or some species of Owl, being constructed of withered twigs and coarse grass, with a lining of fibrous stripes of plants resembling hemp. It is, however, much flatter than that of the Crow. In one I found, in the month of April, three eggs, ready to be hatched; they were of a dull bluish-white, sparingly spotted with light reddish-brown. In another, which I found placed on a pine-tree, growing on the eastern rocky bank of the Niagara River, a few miles below the Great Cataract, the lining was formed of withered herbaceous plants, with a few feathers, and the eggs were four in number, of a white colour, tinged with greenish-blue, large, much rounded, and somewhat granulated. In another nest were four young birds, covered with buff-coloured down, their legs and feet of a pale yellowish flesh-colour, the bill light-blue, and the eyes pale-grey. They differed greatly in size, one being quite small compared with the rest. I am of opinion that few breed to the south of the State of Maine.
The variations of plumage exhibited by the Goshawk are numerous. I have seen some with horizontal bars, of a large size on the breast, and blotches of white on the back and shoulders, while others had the first of these parts covered with delicate transverse lines, the shaft of each feather being deep brown or black, and were of a plain cinereous tint above. The young, which at first have but few scattered dashes of brown beneath, are at times thickly mottled with that, and each feather of the back and wings is broadly edged with dull white.
My opinion respecting the identity of the American Goshawk and that of Europe, is still precisely the same as it was four years ago, when I wrote a paper on the subject, which was published in the Edinburgh Journal of Natural and Geographical Science. I regret differing on this point from such accomplished ornithologists as my excellent friend Prince CHARLES BONAPARTE and M. TEMMINCK; but, after due consideration, I cannot help thinking these birds the same.
The figure of the adult was drawn at Henderson, in Kentucky, many years ago. That of the young bird was taken from a specimen shot in the Great Pine Forest in Pennsylvania.
FALCO PALUMBARIUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 130.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 29.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 28.
ACCIPITER (ASTUR) PALUMBARIUS, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Americ. part ii. p. 39.
ASH-COLOURED OR BLACK-CAPPED HAWK, FALCO ATRICAPILLUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 80. pl. 5. Fig. 3.—AMERICAN GOSHAWK, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 85.
Adult Male. Plate CXLI. Fig. 1.
Bill short, nearly as deep as broad at the base, the tip trigonal, very acute and decurved; upper mandible with the dorsal outline convex from the base, the ridge rounded, the sides convex, the edges acute, overlapping, and slightly festooned; lower mandible a little deflected towards the tip, which is broadly rounded. Head large, neck short, body robust. Legs longish, the tibia long, the tarsus rounded, anteriorly scutellate, scaly on the sides, tubercular and scabrous beneath; the fore-toes with a slight web at the base; claws roundish, curved, extremely acute, that of the inner toe as large as the claw of the hind one.
Plumage compact. Wings reaching to the middle of the tail, the fourth quill longest, the first and eighth equal. Tail long, nearly even, of twelve broad feathers. Tarsus feathered more than one-third down.
Bill black, light blue at the base; cere greenish-yellow; eye-brow greenish-blue. Iris reddish-orange. Feet yellow. The general colour of the upper parts is dark ash-grey; the upper part of the head and the ear-coverts are greyish-black; a broad line of white over each eye; a central line on each feather black, as is the case with those of the neck and back; under parts greyish-white; the sides and abdomen tinged with brown; fore-neck longitudinally marked with blackish-brown streaks; the breast, sides, and belly transversely barred with blackish-grey, and longitudinally lined with black; tail with five broad bands of brownish-black, the terminal band much broader; the extreme tips whitish.
Length 24 inches, extent of wings 47. Weight 2½ lb.
Young Male. Plate CXLI. Fig. 2.
Bill as in the adult. Iris light-yellow. Feet greenish-yellow. The general colour of the upper parts is light reddish-brown, largely spotted with brownish-black; on the upper part of the head, the margins of the feathers are brownish-red, and the black predominates; a broad band of white over each eye. Quills lightish-brown, barred with a darker colour; tail brownish-grey, banded with brownish-black; ear-coverts brownish, streaked with black, as is the throat; fore-neck and breast pale reddish-brown, the former marked with small oblong spots of dark brown, the latter with large ovate, acuminate spots of a deeper tint; the shafts black; the short tarsal feathers similarly spotted.
Length 21½ inches; extent of wings 46.
The Female agrees with the Male in external appearance, but is considerably larger.
STANLEY HAWK. FALCO STANLEII, Audub.
An Adult Female and a Young Male of this species have been represented in Plate XXXVI. of my American Birds, and the figure of an Adult Male is here introduced, for the purpose of being compared with the Goshawk. The form is the same in both, and in the colouring of the upper parts there is little difference; but the size is much less, and the breast is marked with light-brown arrow-shaped spots, and large irregular transverse bars, differing greatly from the markings of the Goshawk. Other differences are perceptible, especially in the colour of the ear-coverts; but as this specimen has been described at page 189 of the first volume, and as a glance at the figures in the plate will convey more intelligence than words could do, it is quite unnecessary to say more here.
THE AMERICAN SPARROW-HAWK.
FALCO SPARVERIUS, LINN.
PLATE CXLII. MALE AND FEMALE.
We have few more beautiful hawks in the United States than this active little species, and I am sure, none half so abundant. It is found in every district from Louisiana to Maine, as well as from the Atlantic shores to the western regions. Every one knows the Sparrow-Hawk, the very mention of its name never fails to bring to mind some anecdote connected with its habits, and, as it commits no depredations on poultry, few disturb it, so that the natural increase of the species experiences no check from man. During the winter months especially it may be seen in the Southern States about every old field, orchard, barn-yard, or kitchen-garden, but seldom indeed in the interior of the forest.
Beautifully erect, it stands on the highest fence-stake, the broken top of a tree, the summit of a grain stack, or the corner of the barn, patiently and silently waiting until it spy a mole, a field-mouse, a cricket, or a grasshopper, on which to pounce. If disappointed in its expectation, it leaves its stand and removes to another, flying low and swiftly until within a few yards of the spot on which it wishes to alight, when all of a sudden, and in the most graceful manner, it rises towards it and settles with incomparable firmness of manner, merely suffering its beautiful tail to vibrate gently for a while, its wings being closed with the swiftness of thought. Its keen eye perceives something beneath, when down it darts, secures the object in its talons, returns to its stand, and devours its prey piece by piece. This done, the little hunter rises in the air, describes a few circles, moves on directly, balances itself steadily by a tremulous motion of its wings, darts towards the earth, but, as if disappointed, checks its course, reascends and proceeds. Some unlucky finch crosses the field beneath it. The Hawk has marked it, and, anxious to secure its prize, sweeps after it; the chase is soon ended, for the poor affrighted and panting bird becomes the prey of the ruthless hunter, who, unconscious of wrong, carries it off to some elevated branch of a tall tree, plucks it neatly, tears the flesh asunder, and having eaten all that it can pick, allows the skeleton and wings to fall to the ground, where they may apprise the traveller that a murder has been committed.
Thus, reader, are the winter months spent by this little marauder. When spring returns to enliven the earth, each male bird seeks for its mate, whose coyness is not less innocent than that of the gentle dove. Pursued from place to place, the female at length yields to the importunity of her dear tormenter, when side by side they sail, screaming aloud their love notes, which if not musical, are doubtless at least delightful to the parties concerned. With tremulous wings they search for a place in which to deposit their eggs secure from danger, and now they have found it.
On that tall mouldering headless trunk, the hawks have alighted side by side. See how they caress each other! Mark! The female enters the deserted Woodpecker's hole, where she remains some time measuring its breadth and depth. Now she appears, exultingly calls her mate, and tells him there could not be a fitter place. Full of joy they gambol through the air, chase all intruders away, watch the Grakles and other birds to which the hole might be equally pleasing, and so pass the time, until the female has deposited her eggs, six, perhaps even seven in number, round, and beautifully spotted. The birds sit alternately, each feeding the other and watching with silent care. After a while the young appear, covered with white down. They grow apace, and now are ready to go abroad, when their parents entice them forth. Some launch into the air at once, others, not so strong, now and then fall to the ground; but all continue to be well provided with food, until they are able to shift for themselves. Together they search for grasshoppers, crickets, and such young birds as, less experienced than themselves, fall an easy prey. The family still resort to the same field, each bird making choice of a stand, the top of a tree, or that of the Great Mullein. At times they remove to the ground, then fly off in a body, separate, and again betake themselves to their stands. Their strength increases, their flight improves, and the field-mouse seldom gains her retreat before the little Falcon secures it for a meal.
The trees, of late so richly green, now disclose the fading tints of autumn; the cricket becomes mute, the grasshopper withers on the fences, the mouse retreats to her winter quarters, dismal clouds obscure the eastern horizon, the sun assumes a sickly dimness, hoarfrosts cover the ground, and the long night encroaches on the domains of light. No longer are heard the feathered choristers of the woods, who throng towards more congenial climes, and in their rear rushes the Sparrow-Hawk.
Its flight is rather irregular, nor can it be called protracted. It flies over a field, but seldom farther at a time; even in barren lands, a few hundred yards are all the extent it chooses to go before it alights. During the love season alone it may be seen sailing for half an hour, which is, I believe, the longest time I ever saw one on the wing. When chasing a bird, it passes along with considerable celerity, but never attains the speed of the Sharp-shinned Hawk or of other species. When teazing an Eagle or a Turkey Buzzard, its strength seems to fail in a few minutes, and if itself chased by a stronger hawk, it soon retires into some thicket for protection. Its migrations are pursued by day, and with much apparent nonchalance.
The cry of this bird so much resembles that of the European Kestrel, to which it seems allied, that, were it rather stronger in intonation, it might be mistaken for it. At times it emits its notes while perched, but principally when on the wing, and more continually before and after the birth of its young, the weaker cries of which it imitates when they have left the nest and follow their parents.
The Sparrow Hawk does not much regard the height of the place in which it deposits its eggs, provided it be otherwise suitable, but I never saw it construct a nest for itself. It prefers the hole of a Woodpecker, but now and then is satisfied with an abandoned crow's nest. So prolific is it, that I do not recollect having ever found fewer than five eggs or young in the nest, and, as I have already said, the number sometimes amounts to seven. The eggs are nearly globular, of a deep buff-colour, blotched all over with dark brown and black. This Hawk sometimes raises two broods in the season, in the Southern States, where in fact it may be said to be a constant resident; but in the Middle and Eastern States, seldom if ever more than one. Nay, I have thought that in the South the eggs of a laying are more numerous than in the North, although of this I am not quite certain.
So much attached are they to their stand, that they will return to it and sit there by preference for months in succession. My friend BACHMAN informed me that, through this circumstance, he has caught as many as seven in the same field, each from its favourite stump.
Although the greater number of these Hawks remove southward at the approach of winter, some remain even in the State of New York during the severest weather of that season. These keep in the immediate neighbourhood of barns, where now and then they secure a rat or a mouse for their support. Sometimes this species is severely handled by the larger Hawks. One of them who had caught a Sparrow, and was flying off with it, was suddenly observed by a Red-tailed Hawk, which in a few minutes made it drop its prey: this contented the pursuer and enabled the pursued to escape.
THEODORE LINCOLN, Esq. of Dennisville, Maine, informed me that the Sparrow-Hawk is in the habit of attacking the Republican Swallow, while sitting on its eggs, deliberately tearing the bottle-neck-like entrance of its curious nest, and seizing the occupant for its prey. This is as fit a place as any to inform you, that the father of that gentleman, who has resided at Dennisville upwards of forty years, found the swallow just mentioned abundant there, on his arrival in that then wild portion of the country.
In the Floridas the Sparrow-Hawk pairs as early as February, in the Middle States about April, and in the northern parts of Maine seldom before June. Few are seen in Nova Scotia, and none in Newfoundland, or on the western coast of Labrador. Although abundant in the interior of East Florida, I did not observe one on any of the keys which border the coast of that singular peninsula. During one of my journeys down the Mississippi, I frequently observed some of these birds standing on low dead branches over the water, from which they would pick up the beetles that had accidentally fallen into the stream.
No bird can be more easily raised and kept than this beautiful Hawk. I once found a young male that had dropped from the nest before it was able to fly. Its cries for food attracted my notice, and I discovered it lying near a log. It was large, and covered with soft white down, through which the young feathers protruded. Its little blue bill and yet grey eyes made it look not unlike an owl. I took it home, named it Nero, and provided it with small birds, at which it would scramble fiercely, although yet unable to tear their flesh, in which I assisted it. In a few weeks it grew very beautiful, and became so voracious, requiring a great number of birds daily, that I turned it out, to see how it would shift for itself. This proved a gratification to both of us: it soon hunted for grasshoppers and other insects, and on returning from my walks I now and then threw a dead bird high in the air, which it never failed to perceive from its stand, and towards which it launched with such quickness as sometimes to catch it before it fell to the ground. The little fellow attracted the notice of his brothers, brought up hard by, who, accompanied by their parents, at first gave it chase, and forced it to take refuge behind one of the window-shutters, where it usually passed the night, but soon became gentler towards it, as if forgiving its desertion. My bird was fastidious in the choice of food, would not touch a Woodpecker, however fresh, and as he grew older, refused to eat birds that were in the least tainted. To the last he continued kind to me, and never failed to return at night to his favourite roost behind the window-shutter. His courageous disposition often amused the family, as he would sail off from his stand, and fall on the back of a tame duck, which, setting up a loud quack, would waddle off in great alarm with the Hawk sticking to her. But, as has often happened to adventurers of similar spirit, his audacity cost him his life. A hen and her brood chanced to attract his notice, and he flew to secure one of the chickens, but met one whose parental affection inspired her with a courage greater than his own. The conflict, which was severe, ended the adventures of poor Nero.
I have often observed birds of this species in the Southern States, and more especially in the Floridas, which were so much smaller than those met with in the Middle and Northern Districts, that I felt almost inclined to consider them different; but after studying their habits and voice, I became assured that they were the same. Another species allied to the present, and alluded to by WILSON, has never made its appearance in our Southern States.
FALCO SPARVERIUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 128.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 42.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 27.
AMERICAN SPARROW-HAWK, FALCO SPARVERIUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 117. pl. 16. fig. 1, Female; and vol. iv. p. 57. pl. 32. fig. 2, Male.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 58.
FALCO SPARVERIUS, LITTLE RUSTY-CROWNED FALCON, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 31.
Adult Male. Plate CXLII. Fig. 1, 2.
Bill short, cerate at the base, the dorsal line curved in its whole length; upper mandible with the edges slightly inflected, and forming a small projecting process, the tip trigonal, acute, descending; lower mandible inflected at the edges, with a notch near the end, which is abrupt. Nostrils roundish, with a central papilla, and placed close to the edge of the cere. Head rather large, flattened, neck short, body of moderate size. Legs of ordinary length; tarsi roundish with two rows of large scales before, three only below being transverse, with small scales on the sides; toes scutellate above, scabrous and tuberculate beneath; middle toe much longer than the outer, which is connected with it by a small web; claws longish, curved, rounded, very acute.
Plumage compact on the back, blended on the head and under parts. Feathers of the head and neck narrow, of the breast oblong, of the back broad and rounded. Space between the bill and eye covered with bristly feathers. Wings long, much pointed, the primaries tapering, the second and third with their outer webs, the first and second their inner ones sinuated; second quill longest. Tail long, moderately rounded, of twelve rather narrow, rounded feathers.
Bill light blue, the tip black, the cere yellow. Iris brown. Feet yellow; claws black. A circular patch of deep orange-brown on the crown of the head, which is surrounded by a band of dark greyish-blue, with which is in contact a black spot on the nape; a patch of black descends from the fore part of the eye, another immediately behind it, the cheek between them being white, and there is a third farther back, and surrounded by pale brown. A narrow line between the forehead and the bill, and another over the eye, white. The back and scapulars are brownish-red, with a few transverse black bars, the rump unspotted and deeper. Tail of the same colour as the rump, with a broad sub-terminal band of black, the tips white, as is the outer web of the lateral feather, which on its inner web has five black bars (including the sub-terminal one), the spaces between them white. The next feather has also frequently a few marks of black and white. The wing-coverts are greyish-blue, spotted with black. Quills brownish-black, their inner webs transversely spotted with white. The throat, hind part of the belly, and under tail-coverts, white; the breast brownish-white, its fore part and sides, with the lower part of the neck, marked with guttiform black spots. Under wing-coverts white, spotted with black.
Length 12 inches, extent of wings 22; bill along the back ¾; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe and claw 1-3/12.
Adult Female. Plate CXLII. Fig. 3.
The female is similarly coloured, but the crown of the head is marked with longitudinal black lines, and the back, which is of a duller tint, with regular transverse bars of the same. The tail is barred with black, the subterminal bar not nearly so broad as in the male, and the tips brownish-white. The under surface is like that of the male, but the breast and flanks are marked with oblong pale yellowish-brown streaks, the spots on the inner webs of the quills are pale brown.
Length 12 inches.
THE BUTTER-NUT, OR WHITE WALNUT.
JUGLANS CINEREA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 456. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 626.—J. CATHARTICA, Mich. Arbr. Forest. vol. i. p. 165. pl. 2.
In this species the leaflets are numerous, serrated, rounded at the base, downy beneath, their petiols villous; the fruit oblongo-ovate, with a long nipple-like apex, which is grooved and rough. It is often a graceful tree, growing to the height of fifty feet or more. The wood is light coloured, but is not much used. The nuts, when young and tender, make a pickle which is relished in many parts of the Union. It does not occur in Maine, but farther south is abundant, as well as in the western country.
THE GOLDEN-CROWNED THRUSH.
TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS, LATH.
PLATE CXLIII. MALE AND FEMALE.
It is difficult for me to conceive the reasons which have induced certain naturalists to remove this bird from the Thrushes, and place it in the genus Sylvia. The habits of a bird certainly are as sure indications of its nature, as the form of its bill or feet can be; and while the latter afford no good grounds for rejecting this species as a Thrush, the former are decidedly favourable to its remaining where its discoverer placed it.
The Golden-crowned Thrush nestles on the ground, where, certes, the nest of no true Sylvia has ever been found, at least in America; it searches for food as much there as on the branches of trees; and its young follow it for nearly a week before they resort to the latter, although quite able to fly. But differences of opinion, such as that occurring in the present case, are of little interest to me, and cannot influence Nature, whom alone I follow, in her arrangements.
The notes of this bird are first heard in Louisiana, about the beginning of March. Some individuals remain there all summer, but the greater number proceed eastward, some going as far as Nova Scotia, while others move towards the west. Over all this extent of country the species is dispersed, and its breeding places are in the interior or along the margins of shady woods watered by creeks and rivulets, and seldom visited by man, it being of a shy and retiring disposition, so that its occurrence in the open parts of the country is very rare. In places like these, it settles for the season, attunes its pipe to its simple lay, forms its nest, rears a brood or two, and at the approach of winter, spreads its wings and returns to southern regions.
Perched erect on a low horizontal branch, or sometimes on a fallen tree, it emits, at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes, a short succession of simple notes, beginning with emphasis and gradually falling. This suffices to inform the female that her lover is at hand, as watchful as he is affectionate. The quieter the place of his abode, the more the little minstrel exerts his powers; and in calm evenings, its music immediately following the song of the Tawny Thrush, appears to form a pleasant unison.
The nest is so like an oven, that the children in many places call this species the "Oven Bird." I have found it always on the ground, sometimes among the roots of a tall tree, sometimes by the side of a fallen trunk, and again at the foot of some slender sapling. It is sunk in the ground among dry leaves or decayed moss, and is neatly formed of grasses, both inside and out, arched over with a thick mass of the same material, covered by leaves, twigs, and such grasses as are found in the neighbourhood. A small aperture is left on one side, just sufficient to admit the owner. In this snug tenement the female deposits from four to six eggs, which are white, irregularly spotted with reddish-brown near the larger end.
When accidentally disturbed at the period of incubation, it glides over the ground before you, and uses all sorts of artifices to decoy you from its nest. Several species of snakes and small quadrupeds are its principal enemies. From children it has little to dread, its gentleness securing it a place in their affections, so that they seldom molest it.
While on wing it appears to glide through the woods with ease and celerity, although it seldom extends its flight to more than a hundred yards at a time. It migrates by day, resorting at night to the deepest swamps. In these situations I have met it in company with the Cat Bird and other Thrushes. When disturbed on such occasions, its simple tweet was familiar to my ear. None remain in the United States during winter, although some are found lingering in the lower parts of Louisiana as late as the first of December.
The plant on which I have placed a pair of them, grew near the spot where I obtained the birds, in a dark wood not far from Philadelphia.
TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 328.
GOLDEN-CROWNED THRUSH, TURDUS AUROCAPILLUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 88. pl. 17. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part ii. p. 355.
SYLVIA AUROCAPILLA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 77.
SEIURUS AUROCAPILLUS, GOLDEN-CROWNED ACCENTOR, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 227.
Adult Male. Plate CXLIII. Fig. 1.
Bill shortish, nearly straight, subulato-conical, rather broader than deep at the base, compressed towards the end, the edges sharp and a little inflected, the dorsal outlines of both mandibles slightly convex. Nostrils basal, elliptical, lateral, half-closed by a membrane. The general form is slender. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus compressed, slender, covered anteriorly with a long undivided piece, and three inferior scutella, sharp behind; toes scutellate above, free; claws slender, compressed, acute, arched.
Plumage soft and blended. Wings of ordinary length, the second and third quills almost equal, the third longest. Tail short, slightly emarginate, of twelve pointed feathers.
Bill dusky above, flesh-coloured beneath. Iris brown. Feet very light flesh-coloured and transparent. The general colour of the plumage above is greenish-brown, the crown brownish-orange, with two lateral lines of brownish-black spots. The lower parts are white, the throat with two lateral lines of brownish-black, and the lower neck, fore part of the breast, and the sides marked with triangular spots of the same.
Length 6 inches, extent of wings 9; bill along the ridge 5½/12, along the edge 7½/12; tarsus 9½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CXLIII. Fig. 2.
The female resembles the male, but is somewhat lighter, with the crown paler. The dimensions are nearly the same.
THE WOODY NIGHTSHADE.
SOLANUM DULCAMARA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 1027. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 156.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
This species is found in the woods, as well as along the margins of cultivated land, and is one of those common to both continents.
THE SMALL GREEN CRESTED FLYCATCHER.
MUSCICAPA ACADICA, GMEL.
PLATE CXLIV. MALE AND FEMALE.
The Small Green Crested Flycatcher is not abundant, even in South Carolina, in the maritime parts of which it occasionally breeds. It merely passes through Louisiana, in early spring and in autumn; but it is found distributed from Maryland to the eastern extremities of Nova Scotia, proceeding perhaps still farther north, although neither I nor any of my party observed a single individual in Newfoundland or Labrador.
It is a usual inhabitant of the most gloomy and secluded parts of our deep woods, although now and then a pair may be found to have taken possession of a large orchard near the house of the farmer. Almost as pugnacious as the King Bird, it is seen giving chase to every intruder upon its premises, not only during the season of its loves, but during its whole stay with us. As soon as it has paired, it becomes so retired that it seldom goes farther from its nest than is necessary for procuring food.
Perched on some small spray or dry twig, it stands erect, patiently eyeing the objects around. When it perceives an insect, it sweeps after it with much elegance, snaps its bill audibly as it seizes the prey, and on realighting, utters a disagreeable squeak. While perched it is heard at intervals repeating its simple, guttural, gloomy notes, resembling the syllables queae, queae, tchooe, tchewee. These notes are often followed, as the bird passes from one tree to another, by a low murmuring chirr or twitter, which it keeps up until it alights, when it instantly quivers its wings, and jerks its tail a few times. At intervals it emits a sweeter whistling note, sounding like weet, weet, weet, will; and when angry it emits a loud chirr.
Early in May, in our Middle Districts, the Small Green Crested Flycatcher constructs its nest, which varies considerably in different parts of the country, being made warmer in the northern localities, where it breeds almost a month later. It is generally placed in the darkest shade of the woods, in the upright forks of some middle-sized tree, from eight to twenty feet above the ground, sometimes so low as to allow a man to look into it. In some instances I have found it on the large horizontal branches of an oak, when it looked like a knot. It is always neat and well-finished, the inside measuring about two inches in diameter, with a depth of an inch and a half. The exterior is composed of stripes of the inner bark of various trees, vine fibres and grasses, matted together with the down of plants, wool, and soft moss. The lining consists of fine grass, a few feathers, and horse hair. The whole is light, elastic, and firmly coherent, and is glued to the twigs or saddled on the branch with great care. The eggs are from four to six, small, and pure white. While the female is sitting, the male often emits a scolding chirr of defiance, and rarely wanders far from the nest, but relieves his mate at intervals. In the Middle States they often have two broods in the season, but in Maine or farther north only one. The young follow their parents in the most social manner; but before these birds leave us entirely, the old and the young form different parties, and travel in small groups towards warmer regions.
I have thought that this species throws up pellets more frequently than most others. Its food consists of insects during spring and summer, such as moths, wild bees, butterflies, and a variety of smaller kinds; but in autumn it greedily devours berries and small grapes. Although not shy with respect to man, it takes particular notice of quadrupeds, following a minx or polecat to a considerable distance, with every manifestation of anger. The mutual affection of the male and female, and their solicitude respecting their eggs or young, are quite admirable.
The flight of the Small Green Flycatcher is performed by short glidings, supported by protracted flaps of the wings, not unlike those of the Pewee Flycatcher; and it is often seen, while passing low through the woods or following the margins of a creek, to drink in the manner of swallows, or sweep after its prey, until it alights. Like the King Bird, it always migrates by day.
MUSCICAPA ACADICA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 68.
SMALL GREEN CRESTED FLYCATCHER, MUSCICAPA QUERULA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 77. pl. 13. fig. 3.
SMALL PEWEE, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 288.
Adult Male. Plate CXLIV. Fig. 1.
Bill of ordinary length, depressed (much deeper than in M. Traillii), tapering to a point, the lateral outlines a little convex; upper mandible with the sides convex, the edges sharp, slightly notched close upon the tip, which is deflected and acute; lower mandible convex below, acute, short. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical. Head of moderate size, neck short, general form slender. Feet of moderate length, slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with short scutella, sharp behind; toes free; claws compressed, arched, acute.
Plumage soft and tufty; feathers of the head narrow and erectile. Wings of moderate length, third quill longest, first and fourth equal. Tail rather long, slightly rounded.
Bill dark brown above, flesh-coloured beneath. Iris hazel. Feet greyish-blue. The general colour of the plumage above is light greenish-olive. Quills and tail wood-brown margined with pale greenish-olive; secondary coverts, and first row of small coverts tipped with yellowish-white, forming two bands across the wing, the secondary quills broadly edged and tipped with the same. A very narrow ring of greyish-white round the eye; throat of the same colour; sides of the neck and fore part of the breast olivaceous, tinged with grey; the rest of the under parts yellowish-white.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the ridge 6/12, along the edge ¾; tarsus 7/12.
Adult Female. Plate CXLIV. Fig. 2.
The female differs from the male only in having the tints somewhat duller, and being rather less.
SASSAFRAS.
LAURUS SASSAFRAS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 485. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. 277.—ENNEANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. LAURI, Juss.
The Sassafras grows on almost every kind of soil in the Southern and Western States, where it is of common occurrence. Along the Atlantic States it extends as far as New Hampshire, and still farther north in the western country. The beauty of its foliage and its medicinal properties render it one of our most interesting trees. It attains a height of fifty or sixty feet, with a proportionate diameter. The leaves are alternate, petiolate, oval, and undivided, or three-lobed. The flowers, which appear before the leaves, are of a greenish-yellow colour, and the berries are of an oval form and bluish-black tint, supported on cups of a bright red, having long filiform peduncles.
THE YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER.
SYLVIA PETECHIA, LATH.
PLATE CXLV. MALE AND FEMALE.
I most willingly acknowledge the error under which I laboured many years, in believing that this species and the Sylvia palmarum of BONAPARTE, are distinct from each other. To the sound judgment of my good friend JOHN BACHMAN, I am indebted for convincing me that the figure given by the Prince of Musignano is that of our present bird, at a different period of life, and therefore with different plumage. I was not fully aware of this, until the 63d plate of my second volume of Illustrations had been delivered to the subscribers, bearing on it the name of Sylvia palmarum. That plate, however, will prove useful, as it represents both sexes of the Sylvia petechia in full summer plumage, while the 45th plate shews them in their first autumnal dress. While at Charleston, in the winter and spring of 1833-4, I became convinced of my error, after examining a great number of specimens, in different states of plumage, corresponding to the figures in my two plates. All these individuals had the same habits, and uttered the same notes. I may here remark, that the true Sylvia palmarum has not yet been met with in the United States.
The Yellow Red-poll Warbler is extremely abundant in the Southern States, from the beginning of November to the first of April, when it migrates northward. It is one of the most common birds in the Floridas during winter, especially along the coasts, where they are fond of the orchards and natural woods of orange trees. In Georgia and South Carolina, they are also very abundant, and are to be seen gambolling, in company with the Yellow-rumped Warbler, on the trees that ornament the streets of the cities and villages, or those of the planter's yard. They approach the piazzas and enter the gardens, in search of insects, on which they feed principally on the wing, now and then securing some by moving slowly along the branches. It never removes from one spot to another, without uttering a sharp twit, and vibrating its tail in the manner of the Wagtails of Europe, though less frequently. I never saw this species in Pennsylvania in summer, although occasionally in the month of May it is to be seen for a few days. It is very rare in Maine; but I found it abundant in Newfoundland and Labrador, where I seldom passed a day without searching for its nest, although I am sorry to say, in vain. In the month of August the old birds were feeding their young all around us, and preparing to return to milder winter quarters.
The pair represented in the plate were drawn on the banks of the Mississippi, along with a plant which grew there, and was in flower at the time. Those represented in the 63d plate, were drawn in the Floridas, in full spring plumage, a few days previous to the departure of the species from that country. These I placed on their favourite wild orange tree, which was then in full bloom.
Nothing can be more gladdening to the traveller, when passing through the uninhabited woods of East Florida, than the wild orange groves which he sometimes meets with. As I approached them, the rich perfume of the blossoms, the golden hue of the fruits, that hung on every twig, and lay scattered on the ground, and the deep green of the glossy leaves, never failed to produce the most pleasing effect on my mind. Not a branch has suffered from the pruning knife, and the graceful form of the trees retains the elegance it received from nature. Raising their tops into the open air, they allow the uppermost blossoms and fruits to receive the unbroken rays of the sun, which one might be tempted to think are conveyed from flower to flower, and from fruit to fruit, so rich and balmy are all. The pulp of these fruits quenches your thirst at once, and the very air you breathe in such a place refreshes and reinvigorates you. I have passed through groves of these orange trees fully a mile in extent. Their occurrence is a sure indication of good land, which in the south-eastern portion of that country is rather scarce. The Seminole Indians and poorer Squatters feed their horses on oranges, which these animals seem to eat with much relish. The immediate vicinity of a wild orange grove is of some importance to the planters, who have the fruits collected and squeezed in a horse mill. The juice is barrelled and sent to different markets, being in request as an ingredient in cooling drinks. The straight young shoots are cut and shipped in bundles, to be used as walking sticks.
SYLVIA PETECHIA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 535.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 83.
YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER, SYLVIA PETECHIA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 19. pl. 28. fig. 4. Male.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 364.
SYLVICOLA PETECHIA, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part i. p. 215.
Adult Male in Winter. Plate CXLV. Fig. 1.
Bill short, straight, conico-subulate, very slender, acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, oval, half closed by a membrane. Head rather small; neck short, body slender. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus longer than the middle toe, covered anteriorly by a few scutella, the upper ones long; toes scutellate above, the inner free, the hind toe of moderate size; claws slender, compressed, acute, arched.
Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Wings of ordinary length, acute, the second quill longest, the secondaries rather long and rounded. Tail of moderate length, emarginate. Bristles at the base of the bill.
Bill dusky-brown above, yellowish beneath. Iris deep brown. Feet umber-brown. The general colour of the plumage above is yellow-olive, streaked with dark brown; crown of the head brownish-red, margined on each side with a line of pale-yellow over the eye; rump and tail-coverts greenish-yellow; quills blackish-brown, edged with yellow-olive; tail of the colour of the wings, the two lateral feathers white in their whole breadth towards the end, forming a white band across the tail beneath when it is closed. The sides of the head are yellow, with two dusky bands, and the lower parts generally are bright yellow, the fore-neck, breast and sides streaked with brownish-red.
Length 4½ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the back 4½/12, along the edge ½; tarsus ¾.
Adult Female. Plate CXLV. Fig. 2.
The Female is coloured in the same manner as the Male, but the tints are much paler, the red of the head scarcely apparent, and the fore-neck very faintly marked.
Individuals of both sexes exhibit considerable difference in the tints of the plumage, at different ages and in different seasons.
HELENIUM QUADRIDENTATUM, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 2121. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 560.—SYNGENESIA POLYGAMIA SUPERFLUA. COMPOSITÆ, Juss.
From three to four feet high, with the stem branched, the leaves decurrent, the lower subpinnatifid, the upper lanceolate, undivided, smooth; the corollas of the disk four-toothed. This plant springs up spontaneously over all the abandoned lands of Louisiana, and is very difficult to be extirpated. It is often gathered and burnt, to prevent the musquitoes from entering houses.
SPRING GARDEN.
Having heard many wonderful accounts of a certain spring near the sources of the St John's River in East Florida, I resolved to visit it, in order to judge for myself. On the 6th of January 1832, I left the plantation of my friend JOHN BULOW, accompanied by an amiable and accomplished Scotch gentleman, an engineer employed by the planters of those districts in erecting their sugar-house establishments. We were mounted on horses of the Indian breed, remarkable for their activity and strength, and were provided with guns and some provisions. The weather was pleasant, but not so our way, for no sooner had we left the "King's Road," which, had been cut by the Spanish government for a goodly distance, than we entered a thicket of scrubby oaks, succeeded by a still denser mass of low palmettoes, which extended about three miles, and among the roots of which our nags had great difficulty in making good their footing. After this we entered the Pine Barrens, so extensively distributed in this portion of the Floridas. The sand seemed to be all sand and nothing but sand, and the palmettoes at times so covered the narrow Indian trail which we followed, that it required all the instinct or sagacity of ourselves and our horses to keep it. It seemed to us as if we were approaching the end of the world. The country was perfectly flat, and, so far as we could survey it, presented the same wild and scraggy aspect. My companion, who had travelled there before, assured me that, at particular seasons of the year, he had crossed the barrens when they were covered with water fully knee-deep, when, according to his expression, they "looked most awful;" and I readily believed him, as we now and then passed through muddy pools, which reached the saddle-girths of our horses. Here and there large tracts covered with tall grasses, and resembling the prairies of the western wilds, opened to our view. Wherever the country happened to be sunk a little beneath the general level, it was covered with cypress trees, whose spreading arms were hung with a profusion of Spanish moss. The soil in such cases consisted of black mud, and was densely covered with bushes, chiefly of the Magnolia family.
We crossed in succession the heads of three branches of Haw Creek, of which the waters spread from a quarter to half a mile in breadth, and through which we made our way with extreme difficulty. While in the middle of one, my companion told me, that once when in the very spot where we then stood, his horse chanced to place his fore-feet on the back of a large alligator, which, not well pleased at being disturbed in his repose, suddenly raised his head, opened his monstrous jaws, and snapped off a part of the lips of his affrighted pony. You may imagine the terror of the poor beast, which, however, after a few plunges, resumed its course, and succeeded in carrying its rider through in safety. As a reward for this achievement, it was ever after honoured with the appellation of "Alligator."
We had now travelled about twenty miles, and the sun having reached the zenith, we dismounted to partake of some refreshment. From a muddy pool we contrived to obtain enough of tolerably clear water to mix with the contents of a bottle, the like of which I would strongly recommend to every traveller in these swampy regions; our horses, too, found something to grind among the herbage that surrounded the little pool; but as little time was to be lost, we quickly remounted, and resumed our disagreeable journey, during which we had at no time proceeded at a rate exceeding two miles and a half in the hour.
All at once, however, a wonderful change took place:—the country became more elevated and undulating; the timber was of a different nature, and consisted of red and live oaks, magnolias, and several kinds of pine. Thousands of "mole-hills," or the habitations of an animal here called "the salamander," and "goffer's burrows," presented themselves to the eye, and greatly annoyed our horses, which every now and then sank to the depth of a foot, and stumbled at the risk of breaking their legs, and, what we considered fully as valuable, our necks. We now saw beautiful lakes of the purest water, and passed along a green space, having a series of them on each side of us. These sheets of water became larger and more numerous the farther we advanced, some of them extending to a length of several miles, and having a depth of from two to twenty feet of clear water; but their shores being destitute of vegetation, we observed no birds near them. Many tortoises, however, were seen basking in the sun, and all, as we approached, plunged into the water. Not a trace of man did we observe during our journey, scarcely a bird, and not a single quadruped, not even a rat; nor can one imagine a poorer and more desolate country than that which lies between the Halifax River, which we had left in the morning, and the undulated grounds at which we had now arrived.
But at length we perceived the tracks of living beings, and soon after saw the huts of Colonel REES'S negroes. Scarcely could ever African traveller have approached the city of Timbuctoo with more excited curiosity than we felt in approaching this plantation. Our Indian horses seemed to participate in our joy, and trotted at a smart rate towards the principal building, at the door of which we leaped from our saddles, just as the sun was withdrawing his ruddy light. Colonel REES was at home, and received us with great kindness. Refreshments were immediately placed before us, and we spent the evening in agreeable conversation.
The next day I walked over the plantation, and examining the country around, found the soil of good quality, it having been reclaimed from swampy ground of a black colour, rich and very productive. The greater part of the cultivated land was on the borders of a lake, which communicates with others, leading to the St John's River, distant about seven miles, and navigable so far by vessels not exceeding fifty or sixty tons. After breakfast, our amiable host shewed us the way to the celebrated spring, the sight of which afforded me pleasure sufficient to counterbalance the tediousness of my journey.
This spring presents a circular basin, having a diameter of about sixty feet, from the centre of which the water is thrown up with great force, although it does not rise to a height of more than a few inches above the general level. A kind of whirlpool is formed, on the edges of which are deposited vast quantities of shells, with pieces of wood, gravel, and other substances, which have coalesced into solid masses having a very curious appearance. The water is quite transparent, although of a dark colour, but so impregnated with sulphur, that it emits an odour which to me was highly nauseous. Its surface lies fifteen or twenty feet below the level of the woodland lakes in the neighbourhood, and its depth, in the autumnal months, is about seventeen feet, when the water is lowest. In all the lakes, the same species of shells as those thrown up by the spring, occur in abundance, and it seems more than probable that it is formed of the water collected from them by infiltration, or forms the subterranean outlet of some of them. The lakes themselves are merely reservoirs, containing the residue of the waters which fall during the rainy seasons, and contributing to supply the waters of the St John River, with which they all seem to communicate by similar means. This spring pours its waters into "Rees's Lake," through a deep and broad channel, called Spring Garden Creek. This channel is said to be in some places fully sixty feet deep, but it becomes more shallow as you advance towards the entrance of the lake, at which you are surprised to find yourself on a mud flat covered only by about fifteen inches of water, under which the depositions from the spring lie to a depth of four or five feet in the form of the softest mud, while under this again is a bed of fine white sand. When this mud is stirred up by the oars of your boat or otherwise, it appears of a dark green colour, and smells strongly of sulphur. At all times it sends up numerous babbles of air, which probably consist of sulphuretted hydrogen gas.
The mouth of this curious spring is calculated to be two and a half feet square; and the velocity of its water, during the rainy season, is three feet per second. This would render the discharge per hour about 499,500 gallons. Colonel REES showed us the remains of another spring of the same kind, which had dried up from some natural cause.
My companion the Engineer having occupation for another day, I requested Colonel REES to accompany me in his boat towards the River St John, which I was desirous of seeing, as well as the curious country in its neighbourhood. He readily agreed, and, after an early breakfast next morning, we set out, accompanied by two servants to manage the boat. As we crossed Rees's Lake, I observed that its north-eastern shores were bounded by a deep swamp, covered by a rich growth of tall cypresses, while the opposite side presented large marshes and islands ornamented by pines, live-oaks, and orange trees. With the exception of a very narrow channel, the creek was covered with nympheæ, and in its waters swam numerous alligators, while Ibises, Gallinules, Anhingas, Coots, and Cormorants, were seen pursuing their avocations on its surface or along its margins. Over our heads the Fish Hawks were sailing, and on the broken trees around we saw many of their nests.
We followed Spring Garden Creek for about two miles and a half, and passed a mud bar, before we entered "Dexter's Lake." The bar was stuck full of unios in such profusion, that each time the Negroes thrust their hands into the mud they took up several. According to their report, these shellfish are quite unfit for food. In this lake the water had changed its hue, and assumed a dark chestnut colour, although it was still transparent. The depth was very uniformly five feet, and the extent of the lake was about eight miles by three. Having crossed it, we followed the creek, and soon saw the entrance of Woodruff's Lake, which empties its still darker waters into the St John's River.
I here shot a pair of curious Ibises, which you will find described in my fourth volume, and landed on a small island covered with wild orange trees, the luxuriance and freshness of which were not less pleasing to the sight, than the perfume of their flowers was to the smell. The group seemed to me like a rich bouquet formed by nature to afford consolation to the weary traveller, cast down by the dismal scenery of swamps, and pools, and rank grass, around him. Under the shade of these beautiful evergreens, and amidst the golden fruits that covered the ground, while the humming birds fluttered over our heads, we spread our cloth on the grass, and with a happy and thankful heart I refreshed myself with the bountiful gifts of an ever-careful Providence. Colonel REES informed me that this charming retreat was one of the numerous terræ incognitæ of this region of lakes, and that it should henceforth bear the name of "Audubon's Isle."
In conclusion, let me inform you, that the spring has been turned to good account by my generous host Colonel REES, who, aided by my amiable companion the Engineer, has directed its current so as to turn a mill, which suffices to grind the whole of his sugar cane.
THE FISH-CROW.
CORVUS OSSIFRAGUS, WILS.
PLATE CXLVI. MALE AND FEMALE.
This may be said to be the only species of Black Bird found in the United States, that is not constantly subjected to persecution. You would suppose it fully aware of its privileges, were you to witness the liveliness of its motions, and to listen to its continued chatter. While the Raven and the Common Crow are ever on the watch to escape the effects of the enmity which man harbours towards them, the Fish-Crow pays little attention to him as he approaches, and even enters his garden to feed on his best fruits. Hundreds are seen to alight on the trees near the towns and cities placed along our southern shores; many fly over or walk about the pools and rivers, and all pursue their avocations without apprehension of danger from the lords of the land. This sense of security arises entirely from the circumstance that man generally believes the bird to be perfectly inoffensive, and glad am I, reader, that it at least bears so good a character.
The Fish-Crow is almost entirely confined to the maritime districts of the Southern States, and there it abounds at all seasons. Those which migrate proceed to the eastward about the beginning of April, and some go as far as New York, where they are, however, rather rare. They ascend the Delaware River in Pennsylvania, nearly up to its source, and some breed in the State of Jersey every year; but all return to the south at the approach of cold weather. Some go up the Mississippi for four or five hundred miles, but I have not seen any higher on that stream, which they generally leave to return to the vicinity of the sea-shore, in the winter season. In East Florida, where they abound, I found them breeding in February, in South Carolina about the 20th of March, and in New Jersey a month later.
While on the St John's River in Florida, during the month of February, I saw flocks of Fish-Crows, consisting of several hundred individuals, sailing high in the air, somewhat in the manner of the Raven, when the whole appeared paired, for I could see that, although in such numbers, each pair moved distinctly apart. These aërial excursions would last for hours, during the calm of a fine morning, after which the whole would descend toward the water, to pursue their more usual avocations in all the sociability of their nature. When their fishing, which lasted about half an hour, was over, they would alight in flocks on the live oaks and other trees near the shores, and there keep up their gabbling, pluming themselves for hours. Once more they returned to their fishing-grounds, where they remained until about an hour from sunset, when they made for the interior, often proceeding thirty or forty miles, to roost together in the trees of the Loblolly Pine. They scarcely utter a single note during this retreat, but no sooner does the first glimmer of day appear than the woods around echo to their matin cries of gratulation. They depart at once for the sea-shores, noisy, lively, and happy. Now you find them busily engaged over the bays and rivers, the wharfs, and even the salt-ponds and marshes, searching for small fry, which they easily secure with their claws as they pass close over the water, and picking up any sort of garbage suited to their appetite.
Like the Raven, the Common Crow, or the Grakle, the Fish-Crow robs other birds of their eggs and young. I observed this particularly on the Florida Keys, where they even dared to plunder the nests of the Cormorant (Carbo Graculus) and White Ibis, waiting with remarkable patience, perched in the neighbourhood, until these birds left their charge. They also frequently alight on large mud flats bordering the salt-water marshes, for the purpose of catching the small crabs called Fiddlers. This they do with ease, by running after them or digging them out of the muddy burrows into which they retire at the approach of danger. I have frequently been amused, while standing on the "Levée" at New Orleans, to see the alacrity and audacity with which they pursued and attacked the smaller Gulls and Terns, to force them to disgorge the small fish caught by them within sight of the Crows, which, with all the tyrannical fierceness of the Lestris, would chase the sea birds with open bill, and extended feet and claws, dashing towards their victims with redoubled ardour, the farther they attempted to retreat. But as most gulls are greatly superior in flight to the Crow, the black tyrants are often frustrated in their attempts, and obliged to return, and seek their food in the eddies by their own industry. They are able to catch fish alive with considerable dexterity, but cannot feed on the wing, and for that purpose are obliged to retire to some tree, stake, or sandbank, and like the Common Crow, the Magpie, and the Cow Bunting, they sometimes alight on the backs of cattle, to search there for the larvæ which frequently harbour in their skin.
During winter and spring, the Fish-crows are very fond of feeding on many kinds of berries. After the frosts have imparted a rich flavour to those of the cassina (Ilex Cassina), they are seen feeding on them in flocks often amounting to more than a hundred individuals. They are also fond of the berries of the holly (Ilex opaca), and of those of an exotic tree now naturalized in South Carolina, and plentiful about Charleston, the tallow-tree (Stillingia sebifera). The seeds of this tree, which is originally from China, are of a white colour when ripe, and contain a considerable quantity of an oily substance. In the months of January and February, these trees are covered by the crows, which greedily devour the berries. As spring advances, and the early fruits ripen, the Fish-crows become fond of the mulberry, and select the choicest of the ripe figs, more especially when they are feeding their young. A dozen are often seen at a time, searching for the tree which has the best figs, and so troublesome do they become in the immediate vicinity of Charleston, that it is found necessary to station a man near a fig-tree with a gun, not to burn powder to drive the Crows away by the smell, but to fire in good earnest at them. They eat pears also, as well as various kinds of huckleberries (Vaccinium), and I have seen them feeding on the berries of at least one species of smilax.
In the Floridas, Georgia, and the Carolinas, this species usually breeds on moderate-sized trees of the loblolly pine (Pinus Tæda), making its nest generally about twenty or thirty feet from the ground, towards the extremities of the branches. In the State of New Jersey, where they are frequently killed in common with the larger crow, in whose company they are often found, they are more careful, and place their nests in the interior of the deepest and most secluded swamps. The nest is smaller than that of the Common Crow, and is composed of sticks, moss, and grasses, neatly finished or lined with fibrous roots. The eggs are from four to six, and resemble those of the Common American Crow, but are smaller. I once found several nests of this crow a few miles from Philadelphia, in the State of Jersey, which were placed on high oaks and other trees. The birds when disturbed, evinced much concern for the safety of their brood. Although I have found this species breeding in different districts, from February till May, I am unable to say decidedly whether it raises more than one brood in the year, although I am of opinion that it does not.
The common note of the Fish-Crow is different from that of the other species of the genus, resembling the syllables ha, ha, hae, frequently repeated. At times the sound of their voice seems as if a faint mimicry of that of the Common Crow; at others, one would suppose that they are troubled with a cough or cold. During the breeding season, their notes are much varied, and are not disagreeable.
Their flight is strong and protracted. While searching for food, these birds hover at a moderate height over the water; but when they rise in the air, to amuse themselves, they often reach a great elevation. While on the ground, their movements are graceful, and resemble those of the Boat-tailed Grakle. Like the other crows, they are fond of replacing their wings, as it were, in their proper situations, frequently opening them out a little, and instantly closing them again.
On several occasions, when one of these birds had been wounded, I found, on approaching it, that it had the power of disgorging its food somewhat in the manner of the Turkey Buzzard. When one is thus wounded, its companions come sailing over you, with a loud scream, in the manner of gulls, so that several may be brought down by an expert marksman, as they are not easily intimidated at such times. Indeed, this species is easily approached, and may be killed without difficulty. I have known fifteen of them shot at once, while feeding on the cassina berries.
During winter, when they are chiefly frugivorous, they become extremely fat and very tender. Their pouch-like stomach, although large, is not muscular; the intestines are large and baggy. Very few are bare on the lower mandible; perhaps among a hundred which I have examined, not more than six or seven exhibited this nakedness, without removing the feathers of that part with the hand.
I have represented a pair on a branch of the Honey-locust, already figured in my first volume, but here represented with its matured fruit.
CORVUS OSSIFRAGUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 57.
FISH-CROW, CORVUS OSSIFRAGUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 27. pl. 37. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 216.
Adult Male. Plate CXLVI. Fig. 1.
Bill longish, straight, robust, somewhat compressed; upper mandible with the dorsal line arched and declinate, the sides concave at the base, flat in the middle, the edges slightly inflected, the tip declinate; lower mandible straight, the dorsal line slightly convex, the sides at the base flat, towards the end rounded, the edges inclinate. Nostrils basal, lateral, round, covered by bristly feathers. Head large, neck short, body moderate. Legs of moderate length, strong, tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with scutella, sharp behind; toes united at the base, the middle toe long, the outer longer than the inner, the hind toe robust; claws rather large, arched, compressed, acute, channelled beneath.
Plumage soft, highly glossed, on the head and neck blended, on the back compact. Stiff bristly feathers, with disunited barbs over the nostrils, directed forwards and adpressed. Wings long, first primary short, third longest, fourth little shorter, seventh equal to first; primaries tapering, second, third, fourth, and fifth, slightly cut out on the outer web; secondaries broad, rounded with a minute acumen.
Tail of moderate length, slightly rounded, of twelve straight feathers.
Beak, tarsi, toes, and claws, black. Iris dark brown. The general colour of the plumage is deep black, with blue and purple reflections above, blue and greenish beneath; the colouring being almost the same as that of the Common American Crow.
Length 16 inches, extent of wings 33; bill along the back 1-11/12; tarsus 1¾; middle toe and claw 1-11/12.
Adult Female. Plate CXLVI. Fig. 2.
The female is considerably smaller, but resembles the male in plumage, although the gloss not quite so rich, and the reflections more brown on the upper parts.
Length 15 inches, extent of wings 31.
THE HONEY LOCUST.
GLEDITSCHIA TRIACANTHOS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 1097. Pursh, Fl. Amer. vol. ii. p. 221.—POLYGAMIA DIŒCIA, Linn. LEGUMINOSÆ, Juss.
See Vol. I. p. 226.
THE NIGHT-HAWK.
CAPRIMULGUS VIRGINIANUS, BRISS.
PLATE CXLVII. MALE AND FEMALE.
The name of this bird disagrees with the most marked characteristics of its habits, for it may be seen, and has frequently been seen, on the wing, during the greater part of the day, even when the atmosphere is perfectly pure and clear, and while the sun is shining in all its glory. It is equally known that the Night-Hawk retires to rest shortly after dusk, at the very time when the loud notes of the Whip-poor-will, or those of the Chuck-will's-widow, both of which are nocturnal ramblers, are heard echoing from the places to which these birds resort.
About the 1st of April, the Night-Hawk makes its appearance in the lower parts of Louisiana, on its way eastward. None of them breed in that State, or in that of Mississippi, nor I am inclined to believe any where south of the neighbourhood of Charleston, in South Carolina. The species is, however, seen in all the Southern States, on its passage to and from those of the east. The Night-Hawks pass with so much comparative swiftness over Louisiana in the spring, that in a few days after their first appearance none are to be seen; nor are any to be found there until their return in autumn, when, on account of the ample supply of food they still meet with at this late season, they remain several weeks, gleaning the insects off the cotton fields, waste lands, or sugar plantations, and gambolling over the prairies, lakes or rivers, from morning till night. Their return from the Middle Districts varies according to the temperature of the season, from the 15th of August to late in October.
Their migrations are carried on over so great an extent, and that so loosely, that you might conceive it their desire to glean the whole country, as they advance with a front extending from the mouths of the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, passing in this manner from the south far beyond our eastern boundary lines. Thus they are enabled to disperse and breed throughout the whole Western and Eastern States, from South Carolina to Maine. On their way they may be seen passing over our cities and villages, alighting on the trees that embellish our streets, and even on chimney tops, from which they are heard to squeak their sharp notes, to the amusement or surprise of those who observe them.
I have seen this species in the British Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, where they remain so late as the beginning of October, but I observed none in Newfoundland, or on the shores of Labrador. In going north, their appearance in the Middle States is about the first of May; but they seldom reach Maine before June.
The Night-Hawk has a firm, light, and greatly prolonged flight. In dull cloudy weather, it may be seen on the wing during the whole day, and is more clamorous than at any other time. The motions of its wings while flying are peculiarly graceful, and the playfulness which it evinces renders its flight quite interesting. The bird appears to glide through the air with all imaginable ease, assisting its ascent, or supporting itself on high, by irregular hurried flappings performed at intervals, as if it had unexpectedly fallen in with its prey, pursued, and seized it. Its onward motion is then continued. It moves in this manner, either upwards in circles, emitting a loud sharp squeak at the beginning of each sudden start it takes, or straight downwards, then to the right or left whether high or low, as it presses onward, now skimming closely over the rivers, lakes, or shores of the Atlantic, and again wending its way over the forests or mountain tops. During the love season its mode of flight is particularly interesting: the male may be said to court his mate entirely on the wing, strutting as it were through the air, and performing a variety of evolutions with the greatest ease and elegance, insomuch that no bird with which I am acquainted can rival it in this respect.
It frequently raises itself a hundred yards, sometimes much more, and apparently in the same careless manner already mentioned, its squeaking notes becoming louder and more frequent the higher it ascends; when, checking its course, it at once glides obliquely downwards, with wings and tail half closed, and with such rapidity that a person might easily conceive it to be about to dash itself against the ground. But when close to the earth, often at no greater distance than a few feet, it instantaneously stretches out its wings, so as to be nearly directed downwards at right angles with the body, expands its tail, and thus suddenly checks its downward career. It then brushes as it were, through the air, with inconceivable force, in a semicircular line of a few yards in extent. This is the moment when the singular noise produced by this bird is heard, for the next instant it rises in an almost perpendicular course, and soon begins anew this curious mode of courtship. The concussion caused, at the time the bird passes the centre of its plunge, by the new position of its wings, which are now brought almost instantly to the wind, like the sails of a ship suddenly thrown aback, is the cause of this singular noise. The female does not produce this, although she frequently squeaks whilst on the wing.
Sometimes, when several males are paying their addresses to the same female, the sight of those beaux plunging through the air in different directions, is curious and highly entertaining. This play is quickly over, however, for no sooner has the female made her choice, than her approved gives chase to all intruders, drives them beyond his dominions, and returns with exultation, plunging and gambolling on the wing, but with less force, and without nearing the ground.
In windy weather, and as the dusk of the evening increases, the Night-Hawk flies lower and more swiftly than ever, making wide and irregular deviations from its general course, to overtake an insect which its keen eye has seen at a distance, after which it continues onward as before. When darkness comes on, it alights either on the ground or on a tree, where it spends the night, now and then uttering its squeak.
These birds can scarcely walk on the ground, on account of the small size and position of their legs, which are placed very far back, for which reason they cannot stand erect, but rest their breast on the ground, or on the branch of a tree, on which they are obliged to alight sidewise. They alight with ease, however, and squat on branches or fence-rails, now and then on the tops of houses or barns. In all such positions they are easily approached. I have neared them when on a fence or low wall to within a few feet, when they would look upon me with their large mild eyes more as a friend than an enemy, although they flew off the moment they observed any thing suspicious in my movements. They now and then squeak while thus seated, and when this happens when they are perched on the trees of our cities, they seldom fail to attract the attention of persons passing.
In Louisiana this species is called by the French Creoles "Crapaud volant," in Virginia "Bat;" but the name by which it is most commonly known is "Night-Hawk." The beauty and rapidity of its motions render it a tempting object to sportsmen generally, and its flesh is by no means unpalatable. Thousands are shot on their return to the south during the autumn, when they are fat and juicy. Now and then at this season, they plunge through the air, but the rustling sound of their wings at this or any other time after the love season is less remarkable.
In the Middle States, about the 20th of May, the Night-Hawk, without much care as to situation, deposits its two, almost oval, freckled eggs, on the bare ground, or on an elevated spot in the ploughed fields, or even on the naked rock, sometimes in barren or open places in the skirts of the woods, never entering their depths. No nest is ever constructed, nor is the least preparation made by scooping the ground. They never, I believe, raise more than one brood in a season. The young are for some time covered with a soft down, the colour of which, being a dusky brown, greatly contributes to their safety. Should the female be disturbed during incubation, she makes her escape, pretending lameness, fluttering and trembling, until she feels assured that you have lost sight of her eggs or young, after which she flies off, and does not return until you have withdrawn, but she will suffer you to approach her, if unseen, until within a foot or two of her eggs. During incubation, the male and female sit alternately. After the young are tolerably grown, and require less warmth from their parents, the latter are generally found in their immediate neighbourhood, quietly squatted on some fence, rail, or tree, where they remain so very silent and motionless that it is no easy matter to discover them.
When wounded they scramble off very awkwardly, and if taken in the hand immediately open their mouth to its full extent repeatedly, as if the mandibles moved on hinges worked by a spring. They also strike with their wings in the manner of pigeons, but without any effect.
The food of the Night-Hawk consists entirely of insects, especially those of the Coleopterous order, although they also seize on moths and caterpillars, and are very expert at catching crickets and grasshoppers, with which they sometimes gorge themselves, as they fly low over the ground with great rapidity. They now and then drink whilst flying closely over the water, in the manner of swallows.
None of these birds remain during the winter in any portion of the United States. The Chuck-will's-widow alone have I heard, and found far up the St John's River, in East Florida, in January. Frequently during autumn, at New Orleans, I have known some of these birds to remain searching for food over the meadows and river until the rainy season had begun, and then is the time at which the sportsmen shoot many of them down; but the very next day, if the weather was still drizzly, scarcely one could be seen there. When returning from the northern districts at a late period of the year, they pass close over the woods, and with so much rapidity, that you can obtain only a single glimpse of them.
While at Indian Key, on the coast of Florida, I saw a pair of these birds killed by lightning, while they were on wing, during a tremendous thunder-storm. They fell on the sea, and after picking them up I examined them carefully, but failed to discover the least appearance of injury on the feathers or in the internal parts.
CAPRIMULGUS VIRGINIANUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 585. —Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 62.
CAPRIMULGUS (CHORDEILES) VIRGINIANUS, Swains. and Richards. part. i. p. 62.
NIGHT-HAWK, CAPRIMULGUS AMERICANUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 65. pl. 40. fig. 1. Male; fig. 2. Female.—Nuttall, Manual, part. i. p. 619.
Adult Male. Plate CXLVII. Fig. 1.
Bill extremely short, feeble, opening to beyond the eyes, the mouth, when open, appearing of enormous width; upper mandible, in its dorsal outline straight at first, deflected at the end, very broad at the base, and suddenly contracted towards the tip, which is compressed and rather obtuse; lower mandible a little recurved at the tip. Nostrils basal, oval, prominent, covered above by a membrane. Head large, depressed. Eyes and ears very large. Neck short, body rather slender. Feet very short and feeble; tarsus partly feathered, anteriorly scutellate below; fore-toes three, connected by webs as far as the second joint, scutellate above; claws very small, curved, compressed, acute; that of the middle larger, curved outwards, with the inner edge expanded and pectinate.
Plumage blended, soft, but with the feathers distinct, slightly glossed. Upper mandible margined with short bristles. Wings very long, somewhat falcate, narrow, the first and second quills longest, and almost equal. Tail rather long, ample, forked, of ten broad, rounded feathers.
Bill black. Iris dark-brown. Feet purplish-brown, the claws dark-brown. Head and upper surface in general brownish-black, mottled with white and pale reddish-brown. Secondary quills tipped with brownish-white. A conspicuous white bar extending across the inner web of the first, and the whole breadth of the second, third, fourth, and fifth primaries. Tail-feathers barred with brownish-grey, the four outer on each side plain brownish-black towards the end, with a white spot. Sides of the head and fore-neck mottled like the back; a broad white band, in the form of the letter V reversed, on the throat and sides of the neck. The rest of the under parts greyish-white, transversely, marked with undulating bars of dark-brown; lower tail-coverts white, with a few dark bars; under wing-coverts blackish-brown, with white tips.
Length 9½ inches, extent of wings 23½; bill along the back ¼, along the edge 1-1/12; tarsus ½.
Adult Female. Plate CXLVII. Fig. 2. 2.
The colouring of the Female is similar to that of the Male, but the dark parts of the former are browner, and the white parts more tinged with red; the white wing-spot smaller, the band on the throat brownish-white, and the white spots on the tail-feathers wanting.
Length 9.
The full-fledged young bird resembles the female.
THE WHITE OAK.
QUERCUS ALBA, Willd. Sp. Pl. p. 449. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 633. Mich. Arbr. Forest. vol. ii. p. 13. pl. 1.—MONŒCIA POLYANDRIA, Linn. AMENTACEÆ, Juss.
Leaves oblong, pinnatifido-sinuate, downy beneath, their lobes oblong, obtuse; fruit rather large, with a cup-shaped tubercular cupule, and ovate acorn. The White Oak is abundant in most parts of the United States from Maine to Louisiana, and is one of the most useful trees of the genus, the wood being strong and lasting; and, as it is of large dimensions, it is employed for numerous purposes, especially ship building, and the manufacture of carriage-wheels, and domestic utensils. It attains a height of seventy or eighty feet, with a diameter of six or seven.
THE PINE SWAMP WARBLER.
SYLVIA SPHAGNOSA, BONAP.
PLATE CXLVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.
I have met with this homely and humble little Warbler, on the low, almost submersed Keys of the Floridas, about Key West, in considerable numbers. This happened in the month of April. One was caught in a house at Indian Key some days before. In a short time, however, they all disappeared. Like many other species of this extensive and interesting family, they seem to cross directly from Cape Florida to Cape Hatteras, as none were seen in Louisiana, Georgia, or the lower parts of the Carolinas. It is not improbable that it comes from the West Indies, resting a few days on the lower islets of Florida, before proceeding northward. In the early part of May, I have found it in New Jersey, as well as in Pennsylvania, particularly in the Great Pine Forest, where I drew a pair of them, and found their nest. During my progress eastward, I saw them frequently. In the State of Maine, I found them exceedingly abundant near Eastport, and on the other islands in that vicinity; but there their progress appeared to have stopped, for I did not see one of them beyond the Island of Grand Manan, while on my way to Labrador.
The Pine-Swamp Warbler delights in the dark, humid parts of thick underwood, by the sides of small streams. It is very active, seizing much of its prey on wing, as well as among the leaves and bark of low trees. During the breeding-season, the male utters a few clear notes, resembling the syllables wheet-te-tee-hŭ, the last note being the loudest and shortest. At all other times, it is a very silent bird.
The nest which I found in the Pine Forest was placed in one of the forks of a low bush, not more than five feet from the ground. It was neat, compact, of small size, and formed of moss, stripes of vine-bark, and fibres of a kind of wild hemp, with a lining of fine bent-grass, and a few horse-hairs or fibres of moss. The eggs were five, roundish, of a delicate buff-colour, with a few spots at the larger end, where they appeared to be all collected. The female was so gentle that I put my hand close over her before she moved; and when she did so, she flew only a few feet, returning to her eggs whenever I retired a few yards. The male expressed his sorrow by a low tweet, but made no attempt to molest me.
Their food consists entirely of insects. Their flight is short, low, with a tremulous motion of the wings, unless when in pursuit of their prey. They all retire southward in the beginning of October.
SYLVIA SPHAGNOSA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 85.
PINE SWAMP WARBLER, SYLVIA PUSILLA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 100. pl. 43. fig. 4.—Nuttall, part i. p. 406.
Adult Male. Plate CXLVIII. Fig. 1.
Bill of ordinary length, nearly straight, broader than deep at the base, tapering, compressed toward the acute tip. Nostrils basal, oval, exposed. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather full. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few long scutella, sharp behind; toes free, scutellate above; claws arched, much compressed, acute.
Plumage soft and blended, slightly glossed. Wings of ordinary length, the first quill longest. Tail longish, slightly emarginate, the feathers pointed.
Bill black above. Iris dark-brown. Legs flesh-coloured. The general colour of the plumage above is a rich olive-green, the quills and tail-feathers margined with paler; at the base of the primary quills a white spot, part of which is apparent beyond the primary coverts. A yellowish-white line over the eye, and a spot of the same beneath it. Cheeks and sides of the neck olivaceous. The under parts ochre-yellow, tinged with brown below the wings.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 7½; bill along the ridge 4/12, along the edge ½; tarsus ¾.
Adult Female. Plate CXLVIII. Fig. 2.
The Female resembles the male, but is paler in its tints.
HOBBLE BUSH.
VIBURNUM LANTANOIDES, Mich. Fl. Amer. vol. i. p. 179. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 202.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
This species, which grows in the woods, from Canada to Virginia, is characterized by its large suborbicular, subcordate, unequally serrate, acute leaves, its dense cymes, and ovate berries, which are at first red, but ultimately black.
THE SHARP-TAILED FINCH.
FRINGILLA CAUDACUTA, WILS.
PLATE CXLIX. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.
This species and the Fringilla maritima spend the winter among the salt marshes of South Carolina, where I have observed thousands of both late in December, and so numerous are they, that I have seen more than forty of the latter killed at one shot. At that season, the neighbourhood of Charleston seems to be peculiarly suited to their habits, and there they are found in great abundance along the mouths of all the streams that flow into the Atlantic. When the tide is out, they resort to the sedgy marshes, but on the approach of the returning waters, they take wing and alight along the shores and on the artificial banks formed for the protection of the rice fields.
The flight of this species is so different from that of any other finch, that one can easily know them at first sight, if he only observes that when flying from one spot to another, they carry the tail very low. During winter, both species are provided with an extra quantity of feathers on the rump. This circumstance has not a little surprised me, when I found them residing in a climate where the Blue Heron (Ardea cærulea) also is now and then to be seen in the young state during winter. I am indeed of opinion that most birds of this species and of the other remain here the whole year, and that if some go farther south, they must be the weaker and younger birds, whose constitution is unable to bear the least degree of cold.
These Finches keep so much about the water, that they walk upon the floating weeds as unconcernedly as if on land, or on any drifting garbage raised from the mud at high tides; they congregate and feed together, and doubtless are constant companions until the spring, when these species separate for the purpose of breeding.
The Sharp-tailed Finch is rather silent, a single tweet being all that I have heard it utter. In spring their attempts to sing can hardly be said to produce a series of notes that can be dignified by the name of song. They feed on the smaller species of shell-fish, on shrimps, and aquatic insects or crustacea, as well as on the seeds of the grasses growing on the grounds which they inhabit.
Within a few years this species has extended its range towards the eastern portions of the Union, as far as the vicinity of Boston, perhaps farther. I doubt, however, that they ever reach the State of Maine and the British provinces, chiefly because the shores of those countries are rocky, and because very few salt marshes are to be met with there. None were seen by me in Newfoundland, Labrador, or the intervening islands.
The young birds of this species are considerably lighter in the tints of their plumage, during winter, than their parents. Some shot on the 11th of December, in the neighbourhood of Charleston in South Carolina, were so pale as almost to tempt one to pronounce them of a different species. At that period, the mornings were very cold, the ground being covered with a thick white frost. So very intent are they on visiting the interior of the broadest salt-marshes, that on returning, when the tide declined, to the same banks where we had seen so many at the time of flowing, we could scarcely find an individual. They are, however, less addicted to search into the muddy recesses along the creeks and bayous than the Sea-side Finches.
The nest is placed on the ground, as represented in my plate, at the distance of a few feet from high-water mark, and generally in a place resembling a portion of a newly mown meadow. A slight hollow is scraped, in which are placed the delicate grasses forming the nest, disposed rather loosely in a circular form. The eggs are from four to six, rather small, dull white, sprinkled with light brown dots, more numerous towards the greater end. About Cape May and Great Egg Harbour, two broods are usually raised in a season; but from the immense numbers seen in autumn, when they begin to congregate, I am inclined to believe that in many instances they have three broods in the same year, especially in South Carolina and Georgia. I saw none of these birds on the eastern coast of the Floridas. They are most easily shot on the wing, for while among the sedges and tall grasses, they move with great celerity, gliding from one blade to another, or suddenly throwing themselves amid the thickest parts of the weeds, where it is impossible to see them.
FRINGILLA CAUDACUTA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 110.
SHARP-TAILED FINCH, FRINGILLA CAUDACUTA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. pl. 70. fig. 3.
SHORE FINCH, FRINGILLA LITTORALIS, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 504.
Adult Male. Plate CXLIX. Fig. 1.
Bill shortish, strong, conical, acute; upper mandible of the same breadth as the lower, convex on the sides, the tip acute and slightly declinate; lower mandible convex on the back and sides, and both involute on the sharp edges. Nostrils basal, roundish, open, partially concealed by the feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather robust. Legs of moderate length, slender; tarsus compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes rather large, free, scutellate above, the lateral nearly equal, the hind toe strong; claws arched, much compressed, longish, acute, that of the hind toe larger.
Plumage ordinary, soft and blended beneath. Wings short and much curved; the second and third primaries longest and equal, the fourth scarcely shorter, the first and fifth about equal. Tail of ordinary length, graduated, slender, the feathers narrow and pointed.
Bill brownish-black above, the sides of the upper mandible yellow, the lower mandible light bluish-grey. Iris hazel. Feet pale brown. Crown of the head bluish-grey in the middle, deep brown at the sides, the feathers black along the centre. Hind neck dull grey, tinged with brown; back brown, tinged with grey, some of the feathers marked with black and edged with greyish-white. Primary quills wood-brown, secondary dark brown, edged with reddish-brown; the secondary and small coverts principally of the latter colour. Tail-feathers wood-brown, with a central line of blackish-brown, excepting the lateral, which are plain and paler. A broad band of light yellowish-red from the base of the mandible over the eye; ear-coverts grey; fore neck pale yellowish-red, the throat paler and unspotted, the rest streaked with dusky. The sides of the same tint, but paler, and similarly streaked; the middle of the breast and the abdomen greyish white; under tail-coverts pale yellowish-red.
Length 5 inches, extent of wings 7¼; bill along the back 4½/12, along the edge 9½/12; tarsus 9/12.
Adult Female. Plate CXLIX. Fig. 2.
The female is coloured like the male, but the tints are a little fainter.
This species is allied in form and habits to the Sea-side Finch, Fringilla maritima, with which, however, it cannot possibly be confounded by any person possessing the least observation. The description of that species in my first volume being defective in several particulars, I here subjoin a more accurate account of its colouring and dimensions taken from a number of specimens.
Bill dark brown above, paler on the sides; the lower mandible bluish-grey, but in some individuals dusky. Iris hazel. Feet and claws greyish-blue, tinged with brown. Crown of the head bluish-grey in the middle, deep-brown at the sides, the feathers black along the centre. Hind neck dull grey, tinged with brown; back dark brown tinged with grey, some of the feathers edged with greyish-white. Primary quills wood-brown, secondary dark brown edged with reddish-brown; the secondary and smaller coverts principally of the latter colour; the edge of the wing yellow. Tail-feathers wood-brown, with a central line of blackish-brown, excepting the lateral, which are plain and paler. A broad yellowish-brown streak from the base of the bill over the eye, but not extending beyond it. Throat and fore neck greyish-white, with a streak of bluish-grey on each side. Breast and sides dull greyish-white, tinged with yellowish-red, and streaked with dusky; the middle of the breast and the abdomen greyish-white; under tail-coverts pale yellowish-brown, streaked with dusky.
Length 6¼ inches, extent of wings 8; bill along the back 5/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 10/12.
Fringilla maritima is a much larger bird than F. caudacuta; the bill is proportionally more elongated; instead of the broad yellowish-red band over the eye, it has a narrow and much shorter one of a duller tint; the band of the same colour beneath the eye is wanting, and the under parts are differently coloured and much duller. The third and fourth quills are longest in F. maritima, the second and third in F. caudacuta, while in the former the first is much shorter, and in the latter very little.
* * * * *
Another species of Finch, belonging to the same group, and which, like F. maritima and F. caudacuta, is found abundantly in the salt marshes of the Carolinas, has been discovered by my most worthy friend the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN of Charleston, who has presented me with a dozen specimens of it. With his approval, I have named it after a gentleman who, besides being my friend, is possessed, not only of a technical, but also of a practical knowledge of ornithology, and of whom I may safely say, that he is unquestionably the best portrayer of the feathered race that I know. It was my intention to have had the figures of this newly discovered species, which were drawn at Charleston by my son JOHN WOODHOUSE, engraved for the second volume of "The Birds of America;" but the drawing did not reach London in time. The plate, however, is finished, and will appear in the fourth and last volume of that work. In the mean time, I subjoin a brief description.
MACGILLIVRAY'S FINCH.
FRINGILLA MACGILLIVRAII.
Bill rather long, in other respects similar to those of the two species mentioned above, as are the proportions of the different parts, and the texture of the plumage. The second, third, and fourth quills are equal and longest, and the tail is rounded.
Bill dusky-brown above, the sides of the upper mandible paler, the lower mandible bluish-grey. Iris hazel. Feet dark brown. The colouring is similar to that of F. maritima in the upper parts, and to that of F. caudacuta in the lower, but is darker above than the former, and duller beneath than the latter. Feathers of the head brownish-black margined with dull greyish-brown, but not grey in the middle nor darker towards the sides, as in the other species. Hind neck and back of the same colour, the middle of the latter having some of the margins pale reddish-brown. Primary quills hair-brown; secondary dark brown, edged with reddish-brown; the secondary and smaller coverts like the latter; the edge of the wing white, slightly tinged with yellow. Tail-feathers hair-brown at the edges, the centre blackish-brown, except the lateral, which are plain, but scarcely paler. A yellowish-brown streak from the nostrils over the eye. Throat and fore neck greyish-white, with an indistinct dusky streak on each side. Breast and sides pale dull yellowish-brown, marked with brownish-black streaks. The middle of the breast and the abdomen greyish-white, tinged with yellowish-brown.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 7¾; bill along the back 6½/12, along the edge 8/12; tarsus 11/12.
* * * * *
The different species can be readily distinguished by attending to the above particulars. Macgillivray's Finch is in size intermediate between the other two, and in colouring it resembles both, as has been stated above.
When the three are together it is very easy to distinguish that species from the rest, by the greater length of the bill and tarsus, and the greater breadth of the black band along the middle of each tail-feather. In all the species, the bills of individuals differ greatly in length, old birds having them much longer than younger ones.
In the republication of WILSON'S Ornithology, by Sir WILLIAM JARDINE, Bart., the editor makes the following statement.—"Mr AUDUBON has figured a bird very closely allied in plumage, under the name of Ammodramus Henslowii, and, in the letter press, has described it as Henslow's Bunting, Emberiza Henslowii. It will evidently come under the first genus, and if new and distinct, will form a third North American species. It is named after Professor HENSLOW of Cambridge, and was obtained near Cincinnati. There is no account of its history and habits."—Vol. ii. p. 78. I have already shewn that the species is a perfectly distinct one, but its affinities are not with Ammodramus. During my last three years' rambles in the United States, my friends, my assistants, and myself, procured hundreds of specimens of the Henslow's Bunting, and gained much information respecting its habits, which are totally different from those of Fringilla caudacuta or F. maritima. The HENSLOW Bunting is never found near salt water marshes, as these species always are, but spends its life on dry elevated meadows and in sandy open pine forests, where it passes the winter in the Southern and Western Districts. As to the similarity of colouring alluded to, I cannot see the least resemblance between the birds in question, in that respect, more than in size or shape. This might have become apparent, had he compared my figure of the Henslow Bunting with that given by WILSON, which in my humble opinion is incorrect. I have not represented the nest of F. maritima along with my figures of that bird, although this has been asserted.
THE RED-EYED VIREO.
VIREO OLIVACEUS, BONAP.
PLATE CL. MALE.
One of the principal differences between the habits of this and some other species, which are now called Vireos, and the Flycatchers, is, that the former procure their food principally by moving about, and along the branches or the twigs of the trees, by light hops, alternately changing sides, reaching and securing their prey by an elastic extension of the legs and neck, without the continual snapping or clicking of the bill so common among the Muscicapæ on such occasions, and that they seldom make sorties on the wing to any distance, for the purpose of seizing the insects on which they usually feed. This habit is retained until autumn, when, insects being scarce, the Vireo sallies forth to a short distance in pursuit of them, as they may chance to pass near the tree on which, in the silent mood of a Flycatcher, it stands erect, using the watchful side-glances peculiar to its tribe, as it anxiously expects the passage of its prey. Another difference is, that Vireos are generally more musical, lively and gay, than Flycatchers, so that their society is more welcome to man; and, as if fully conscious of their superiority in this respect, and knowing that they commit no depredations upon his fruit or bees, calculated to arouse his anger, they often suffer him to approach with a carelessness that evidently proves the simplicity of their nature. The third great difference between the Vireos and Flycatchers is, that the former seldom, if ever, go down from the trees to the water, for the purpose of drinking; while the latter are often seen gliding closely over rivers and pools, from which they sip their drink. The Vireos quench their thirst with the drops of dew or rain that adhere to the leaves or twigs. I might add, that the quivering motions of the wings in Flycatchers when alighted, is not exhibited by the Vireos, at least has never been observed by me. On the other hand, the affinity existing between the Vireos and Muscicapæ is indicated by their being equally possessed of the power of regurgitation.
The Red-eyed Flycatcher is an inhabitant of the whole of our forests. Now you hear its sweet, unaffected, musical, loud and free warble, from the inner top branches of a tall tree, for hours at a time, and even during the hottest part of the day; again, you may count each note that it utters, the little vocalist resting as it were to enjoy the sounds of its own music; next moment all seems hurry and bustle;—it raises its voice, and chants on with great volubility, so loudly that one might think the little creature intent on drowning all other sounds. The darker the woods, the more cloudy the day, the more unremitting are its exertions. It is one of the earliest singers in spring, and among the latest in autumn. In the south-eastern parts of East Florida, where many spend the winter, I have heard its notes and those of the White-eyed Vireo, even at that season. In South Carolina, in the neighbourhood of Charleston, I have heard and seen it early in the month of February, when scarce a leaf was yet expanded. It is not seen in Louisiana until the beginning of March, and I am inclined to think that perhaps an equal number of these birds come to us from the West India Islands or from Mexico.
Few birds seem to enjoy life more than this Vireo, for at almost every short cessation of its song, it is seen making a movement or two up or along a branch, searching with extreme diligence for food, peeping cautiously under the leaves, and examining each bud or blossom with a care peculiarly its own. It may be seen flying from one tree to another with indefatigable industry, and this not only from morning to night, but during the whole time of its stay with us.
So abundant is this bird, and so prodigal of its song, that any one paying the least attention is sure to hear it either from the trees which embellish the streets of the villages and cities, or the gardens and woods. The principal notes resemble the syllables pewee, pea, sho-re, sheire, chew-ree, piwit. They are, as I have said, clear, loud, and melodious.
The flight of this bird is altogether performed in a gliding manner, and when it is engaged in pursuit of a rival or an enemy, it passes through the woods with remarkable swiftness. It is an affectionate parent, generally leading about its young, particularly its second brood; for it often breeds twice in the year, even in the State of Massachusetts, or far up on the Mississippi. On such occasions, the parents proceed through the woods with more care, and on the least appearance of danger utter a querulous note, the meaning of which is so well understood by the little family, that they seldom fail to hide or become mute in an instant. The young are fed for several weeks after they leave the nest, and, I believe, migrate with the old ones, for I have frequently seen them on the move until dusk, and going to roost together at nightfall. I do not recollect ever having seen one of them on the ground.
Like the true Flycatchers, these birds eject small pellets formed of the hard crusts of the abdomen, legs, and other parts of insects. I have but very seldom seen them feeding on berries of any kind, although in Louisiana I have observed them pecking at ripe figs.
The nest of the Red-eyed Vireo is small, and extremely neat. It is generally suspended, at a moderate height, from the slender twigs forming the fork at the end of a branch. I have found some situated so low that I could easily look into them, while others were hung thirty feet over head. Dog-wood trees seem to be preferred by them, although I have found the nests on oaks, beeches, and sugar-maples, as well as on tall grasses. The male bird frequently leads you to the discovery of the nest, by its great anxiety about the safety of its mate. The outer parts are firmly attached to the twigs, the fibres being warped around them in various directions. The materials are usually the bark of the grape-vine, the silk of large cocoons, some lichens, particles of hornets' or wasps' nests, and decayed worm-eaten leaves. The lining, which is beautifully disposed, consists of fibrous roots, grasses, and now and then the hair of various quadrupeds, especially the grey squirrel and racoon. The nest, however, differs greatly in different latitudes; for, in the Middle States, they often use the leaves of the pine, cedar, and hemlock, which they glue together apparently with their saliva. The eggs are from four to six, pure white, sparingly spotted at the larger end with reddish-brown or blackish dots. They are laid in Pennsylvania about the first of June, and later in more northern parts.
The eyes of the Young are of an umber colour, and do not become red until the following spring. Those of some shot in the Floridas in January, had not changed their colour. In February I shot two, each of which had a red and a brown eye.
This species, as well as the White-eyed Vireo, is often called to nurse the young of the Cow Bird, which deposits its egg in the nests of either species, assured that it will be properly treated. No difference exists in the plumage, or even size of the sexes.
WILSON, who was a most excellent observer, was quite correct, as well as Dr BARTON of Philadelphia, in alluding to another species of Vireo, which, although nearly allied to this, is quite distinct. It is smaller, has brown eyes at all times of its life, sings sweetly, lives in low thickets, and builds a pensile nest. You will see its figure in my fourth volume of Illustrations, when I hope to be able to give you a good account of its habits.
VIREO OLIVACEUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 71.
RED-EYED FLYCATCHER, MUSCICAPA OLIVACEA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 55. pl. 12. fig. 3.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 312.
Adult Male. Plate CL.
Bill of moderate length, strong, depressed at the base, compressed towards the end, somewhat ascending. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly convex, the sides convex, the edges sharp and notched towards the end, the tip acute and suddenly deflected; lower mandible with the dorsal line also slightly convex, the back rounded, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong. Head rather large, neck short, body rather robust. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes slender, free; claws arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage soft and blended. Wings rather long, the second and third primaries longest; tail of ordinary length, slightly emarginate. Bristles at the base of the bill short.
Bill brown above, pale bluish-grey beneath. Iris red. Feet bluish-grey. The general colour of the plumage above is light yellowish-olive, the crown of the head deep-grey, bordered on each side by a line of blackish, below which is a line of greyish-white passing from the nostril over the eye. Quills dusky, olivaceous on the outer margin, white on the inner. Tail wood-brown. The lower parts are white, the breast and sides tinged with pale yellow.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 9; bill along the back nearly ½, along the edge 8/12; tarsus 8/12.
The Female resembles the Male, but is of a duller white beneath.
HONEY-LOCUST.
GLEDITSCHIA TRIACANTHOS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 1097. —Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 221.—POLYGAMIA DIŒCIA, Linn. LEGUMINOSÆ, Juss.
See Vol. I. p. 226.
ST JOHN'S RIVER IN FLORIDA.
Soon after landing at St Augustine, in East Florida, I formed acquaintance with Dr SIMMONS, Dr POCHER, Judge SMITH, the Misses JOHNSON, and other individuals, my intercourse with whom was as agreeable as beneficial to me. Lieutenant CONSTANTINE SMITH, of the United States army, I found of a congenial spirit, as was the case with my amiable, but since deceased friend, Dr BELL of Dublin. Among the planters who extended their hospitality to me, I must particularly mention General HERNANDEZ, and my esteemed friend JOHN BULOW, Esq. To all these estimable individuals I offer my sincere thanks.
While in this part of the peninsula, I followed my usual avocations, although with little success, it being then winter. I had letters from the Secretaries of the Navy and Treasury of the United States, to the commanding officers of vessels of war of the revenue service, directing them to afford me any assistance in their power; and the schooner Spark having come to St Augustine, on her way to the St John's River, I presented my credentials to her commander Lieutenant PIERCY, who readily and with politeness, received me and my assistants on board. We soon after set sail, with a fair breeze. The strict attention to duty on board even this small vessel of war, afforded matter of surprise to me. Every thing went on with the regularity of a chronometer: orders were given, answered to, and accomplished, before they ceased to vibrate on the ear. The neatness of the crew equalled the cleanliness of the white planks of the deck; the sails were in perfect condition; and, built as the Spark was, for swift sailing, on she went gambolling from wave to wave.
I thought that, while thus sailing, no feeling but that of pleasure could exist in our breasts; but, alas! how fleeting are our enjoyments. When we were almost at the entrance of the river, the wind changed, the sky became clouded, and, before many minutes had elapsed, the little bark was lying to "like a duck," as her commander expressed himself. It blew a hurricane:—let it blow, reader. At the break of day we were again at anchor within the bar of St Augustine.
Our next attempt was successful. Not many hours after we had crossed the bar, we perceived the star-like glimmer of the light in the great lantern at the entrance of the St John's River. This was before day-light; and, as the crossing of the sand-banks or bars, which occur at the mouths of all the streams of this peninsula is difficult, and can be accomplished only when the tide is up, one of the guns was fired as a signal for the government pilot. The good man, it seemed, was unwilling to leave his couch, but a second gun brought him in his canoe alongside. The depth of the channel was barely sufficient. My eyes, however, were not directed towards the waters, but on high, where flew some thousands of snowy Pelicans, which had fled affrighted from their resting grounds. How beautifully they performed their broad gyrations, and how matchless, after a while, was the marshalling of their files, as they flew past us!
On the tide we proceeded apace. Myriads of Cormorants covered the face of the waters, and over it Fish-Crows innumerable were already arriving from their distant roosts. We landed at one place to search for the birds whose charming melodies had engaged our attention, and here and there some young Eagles we shot, to add to our store of fresh provisions! The river did not seem to me equal in beauty to the fair Ohio; the shores were in many places low and swampy, to the great delight of the numberless Herons that moved along in gracefulness, and the grim alligators that swam in sluggish sullenness. In going up a bayou, we caught a great number of the young of the latter for the purpose of making experiments upon them.
After sailing a considerable way, during which our commander and officers took the soundings, as well as the angles and bearings of every nook and crook of the sinuous stream, we anchored one evening at a distance of fully one hundred miles from the mouth of the river. The weather, although it was the 12th of February, was quite warm, the thermometer on board standing at 75°, and on shore at 90°. The fog was so thick that neither of the shores could be seen, and yet the river was not a mile in breadth. The "blind musquitoes" covered every object, even in the cabin, and so wonderfully abundant were these tormentors, that they more than once fairly extinguished the candles whilst I was writing my journal, which I closed in despair, crushing between the leaves more than a hundred of the little wretches. Bad as they are, however, these blind musquitoes do not bite. As if purposely to render our situation doubly uncomfortable, there was an establishment for jerking beef, on the nearer shores to the windward of our vessel, from which the breeze came laden with no sweet odours.
In the morning when I arose, the country was still covered with thick fogs, so that although I could plainly hear the notes of the birds on shore, not an object could I see beyond the bowsprit, and the air was as close and sultry as on the previous evening. Guided by the scent of the jerkers' works, we went on shore, where we found the vegetation already far advanced. The blossoms of the jessamine, ever pleasing, lay steeped in dew; the humming bee was collecting her winter's store from the snowy flowers of the native orange; and the little warblers frisked along the twigs of the smilax. Now, amid the tall pines of the forest, the sun's rays began to force their way, and as the dense mists dissolved in the atmosphere, the bright luminary at length shone forth. We explored the woods around, guided by some friendly live-oakers who had pitched their camp in the vicinity. After a while the Spark again displayed her sails, and as she silently glided along, we spied a Seminole Indian approaching us in his canoe. The poor dejected son of the woods, endowed with talents of the highest order, although rarely acknowledged by the proud usurpers of his native soil, has spent the night in fishing, and the morning in procuring the superb-feathered game of the swampy thickets; and with both he comes to offer them for our acceptance. Alas! thou fallen one, descendant of an ancient line of freeborn hunters, would that I could restore to thee thy birthright, thy natural independence, the generous feelings that were once fostered in thy brave bosom. But the irrevocable deed is done, and I can merely admire the perfect symmetry of his frame, as he dexterously throws on our deck the trouts and turkeys which he has captured. He receives a recompense, and without smile or bow, or acknowledgement of any kind, off he starts with the speed of an arrow from his own bow.
Alligators were extremely abundant, and the heads of the fishes which they had snapped off lay floating around on the dark waters. A rifle bullet was now and then sent through the eye of one of the largest, which, with a tremendous splash of its tail, expired. One morning we saw a monstrous fellow lying on the shore. I was desirous of obtaining him to make an accurate drawing of his head, and, accompanied by my assistant and two of the sailors, proceeded cautiously towards him. When within a few yards, one of us fired and sent through his side an ounce ball, which tore open a hole large enough to receive a man's hand. He slowly raised his head, bent himself upwards, opened his huge jaws, swung his tail to and fro, rose on his legs, blew in a frightful manner, and fell to the earth. My assistant leaped on shore, and, contrary to my injunctions, caught hold of the animal's tail, when the alligator, awakening from its trance, with a last effort crawled slowly towards the water, and plunged heavily into it. Had he thought of once flourishing his tremendous weapon there might have been an end of his assailant's life, but he fortunately went in peace to his grave, where we left him, as the water was too deep. The same morning, another of equal size was observed swimming directly for the bows of our vessel, attracted by the gentle rippling of the water there. One of the officers, who had watched him, fired and scattered his brain through the air, when he tumbled and rolled at a fearful rate, blowing all the while most furiously. The river was bloody for yards around, but although the monster passed close by the vessel, we could not secure him, and after a while he sunk to the bottom.
Early one morning I hired a boat and two men, with the view of returning to St Augustine by a short cut. Our baggage being placed on board, I bade adieu to the officers, and off we started. About four in the afternoon we arrived at the short cut, forty miles distant from our point of departure, and where we had expected to procure a waggon, but were disappointed. So we laid our things on the bank, and, leaving one of my assistants to look after them, I set out, accompanied by the other, and my Newfoundland dog. We had eighteen miles to go; and as the sun was only two hours high, we struck off at a good rate. Presently we entered a pine barren. The country was as level as a floor; our path, although narrow, was well beaten, having been used by the Seminole Indians for ages, and the weather was calm and beautiful. Now and then a rivulet occurred, from which we quenched our thirst, while the magnolias and other flowering plants on its banks relieved the dull uniformity of the woods. When the path separated into two branches, both seemingly leading the same way, I would follow one, while my companion took the other, and unless we met again in a short time, one of us would go across the intervening forest.
The sun went down behind a cloud, and the south-east breeze that sprung up at this moment, sounded dolefully among the tall pines. Along the eastern horizon lay a bed of black vapour, which gradually rose, and soon covered the heavens. The air felt hot and oppressive, and we knew that a tempest was approaching. Plato was now our guide, the white spots on his skin being the only objects that we could discern amid the darkness, and as if aware of his utility in this respect, he kept a short way before us on the trail. Had we imagined ourselves more than a few miles from the town, we would have made a camp, and remained under its shelter for the night; but conceiving that the distance could not be great, we resolved to trudge along.
Large drops began to fall from the murky mass overhead; thick, impenetrable darkness surrounded us, and to my dismay, the dog refused to proceed. Groping with my hands on the ground, I discovered that several trails branched out at the spot where he lay down; and when I had selected one, he went on. Vivid flashes of lightning streamed across the heavens, the wind increased to a gale, and the rain poured down upon us like a torrent. The water soon rose on the level ground so as almost to cover our feet, and we slowly advanced, fronting the tempest. Here and there a tall pine on fire presented a magnificent spectacle, illumining the trees around it, and surrounded with a halo of dim light, abruptly bordered with the deep black of the night. At one time we passed through a tangled thicket of low trees, at another crossed a stream flushed by the heavy rain, and again proceeded over the open barrens.
How long we thus, half-lost, groped our way, is more than I can tell you; but at length the tempest passed over, and suddenly the clear sky became spangled with stars. Soon after we smelt the salt-marshes, and walking directly towards them, like pointers advancing on a covey of partridges, we at last to our great joy descried the light of the beacon near St Augustine. My dog began to run briskly around, having met with ground on which he had hunted before, and taking a direct course, led us to the great causeway that crosses the marshes at the back of the town. We refreshed ourselves with the produce of the first orange tree that we met with, and in half an hour more arrived at our hotel. Drenched with rain, steaming with perspiration, and covered to the knees with mud, you may imagine what figures we cut in the eyes of the good people whom we found snugly enjoying themselves in the sitting room. Next morning, Major GATES, who had received me with much kindness, sent a waggon with mules and two trusty soldiers for my companion and luggage.
THE TURKEY BUZZARD.
CATHARTES AURA, ILLIG.
PLATE CLI. MALE AND YOUNG.
Having already, when speaking of the Black Vulture, described the habits of the Turkey Buzzard, I shall here merely add a few observations necessary to complete its history.
This species is far from being known throughout the United States, for it has never been seen farther eastward than the confines of New Jersey. None, I believe, have been observed in New York; and on asking about it in Massachusetts and Maine, I found that, excepting those persons acquainted with our birds generally, none knew it. On my late northern journeys I nowhere saw it. A very few remain and spend the winter in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, where I have seen them only during summer, and where they breed. As we proceed farther south, they become more and more abundant. They are equally attached to maritime districts, and the vicinity of the sea-shore, where they find abundance of food.
The flight of the Turkey Buzzard is graceful compared with that of the Black Vulture. It sails admirably either high or low, with its wings spread beyond the horizontal position, and their tips bent upward by the weight of the body. After rising from the ground, which it does at a single spring, it beats its wings only a very few times, to enable it to proceed in its usual way of sailing. Like the Black Vultures, they rise high in the air, and perform large circles, in company with those birds, the Fork-tailed Hawk, Mississippi Kite, and the two species of Crow. The Hawks, however, generally teaze them, and force them off toward the ground.
They are gregarious, feed on all sorts of food, and suck the eggs and devour the young of many species of Heron and other birds. In the Floridas, I have, when shooting, been followed by some of them, to watch the spot where I might deposit my game, which, if not carefully covered, they would devour. They also eat birds of their own species, when they find them dead. They are more elegant in form than the Black Vultures, and walk well on the ground or the roofs of houses. They are daily seen in the streets of the southern cities, along with their relatives, and often roost with them on the same trees. They breed on the ground, or at the bottom of hollow trees and prostrate trunks, and lay only two eggs. These are large, of a light cream-colour, splashed toward the great end with large irregular markings of black and brown. The young somewhat resemble those of the Black Vulture, and take a long time before they can fly. Both species drink water freely, and in doing this immerse their bill to the base, and take a long draught at a time. They both breed at the same period, or nearly so, and raise only one brood in the season.
I have found birds of this species apparently very old, with the upper parts of their mandibles, and the wrinkled skin around their eyes, so diseased as to render them scarcely able to feed amongst others, all of which seldom failed to take advantage of their infirmities. I have represented the adult male in full plumage, along with a young bird, procured in the autumn of its first year. The average weight of a full grown bird is 6½ lb., about 1 lb. less than that of the Carrion Crow.
CATHARTES AURA, ILLIGER, Prodr. p. 236.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 22.—_Richards. and Swains._ Fauna Boreali-Amer. part ii. p. 4.
TURKEY VULTURE or TURKEY BUZZARD, VULTUR AURA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ix. p. 96. pl. 75. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 43.
Adult Male. Plate CLI. Fig. 1.
Bill nearly as long as the head, strong, straight at the base, compressed; the upper mandible covered beyond the middle by the cere, its dorsal outline nearly straight, being slightly undulated, its tip large, curved, and pointed, and of a boney hardness; the edge with a slight undulation; lower mandible with the end rounded, and having a broad groove. Nostrils medial, approximate, oblong, pervious, of very large size, and forming an open space, into which posteriorly open the two nasal tubes, which are furnished each with a valve. Head elongated, small, neck rather long, body robust. Feet strong; tarsus roundish, covered with small hexagonal scales; toes scutellate above, the middle one much longer, the two lateral nearly equal, and united to the middle one at the base by a web, the hind-toe small. Claws arched, strong, acute, that of the hind-toe smallest.
Plumage rather compact, with ordinary lustre, the back somewhat metallic. The head and upper part of the neck are destitute of feathers, having a red wrinkled skin, sparsely covered with short black hair, and downy behind. Feathers of the neck full and rounded, concealing the naked crop. Wings ample, long; the first quill rather short, the third and fourth longest. Tail longish, rounded, of twelve broad straight feathers.
Bill at the tip yellowish-white; the cere and the naked part of the head of a tint approaching to blood-red. Iris dark brown. Feet flesh-coloured, tinged with yellow; claws black. The general colour of the plumage is blackish-brown, deepest on the neck and under parts, the wing-coverts broadly margined with brown; the back glossed with brown and greenish tints; the tail purplish-black; the under parts of a sooty brown, on the breast glossed with green.
Length 32 inches, extent of wings 6 feet 4 inches; bill 2½ along the ridge, 2-2/12 along the gap; tarsus 2½, middle-toe 3½.
Young fully fledged. Plate CLI. Fig. 2.
The bill is, of course, shorter and more slender, its horny tip pale blue, black on the back; the skin of the head is flesh-coloured, the iris yellowish, the feet flesh-coloured. The plumage is nearly of the same colour as in the adult.
THE WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCH.
SITTA CAROLINENSIS, BRISS.
PLATE CLII. MALE AND FEMALE.
Only three species of Nuthatch have as yet been observed within the limits of the United States. My opinion however is, that at least two more will be discovered:—one larger than any of those known, in the high wooded plains bordering the Pacific Ocean; the other, of nearly the size of the present species, towards the boundary line of Mexico and the United States.
Although the species now under consideration is found in all parts of our extensive country, it is yet the least numerous; there being to appearance more than three of the Brown-headed, and two of the Red-bellied, for every one of the White-breasted. It is an inhabitant of the forest and the orchard, frequently approaching to the very doors of the farm-houses during winter, when it is not unusually seen tapping at the eaves beneath the roof, thrusting itself into barns and houses, or searching for food among the poultry on the ground, where it moves prettily by short hops. During summer it gives a preference to the interior of the forest, and lives in a retired and secluded manner, especially during the breeding season. Although a lively bird, its actions are less animated, and it exhibits less petulance and restlessness than the other species. It moves alertly, however, when searching for food, climbing or retrograding downwards or sidewise, with cheerfulness and a degree of liveliness, which distinguish it at once from other birds. Now and then it has a quaint look, if I may so speak, while watching the observer, clinging to the bark head downward, and perhaps only a few feet distant from him whom it well knows to be its enemy, or at least not its friend, for many farmers, not distinguishing between it and the Sap-sucker (Picus pubescens), shoot at it, as if assured that they are doing a commendable action.
During the breeding season, the affection which this bird ordinarily shews to its species, is greatly increased. Two of them may be seen busily engaged in excavating a hole for their nest in the decayed portion of the trunk or branch of a tree, all the time congratulating each other in the tenderest manner. The male, ever conspicuous on such occasions, works some, and carries off the slender chips, chiselled by the female. He struts around her, peeps into the hole, chirrups at intervals, or hovers about her on the wing. While she is sitting on her eggs, he seldom absents himself many moments; now with a full bill he feeds her, now returns to be assured that her time is pleasantly spent.
When the young come from the egg, they are fed with unremitting care. They now issue from their wooden cave, and gently creep around its aperture. There, while the genial rays of the summer's sun give vigour to their tender bodies, and enrich their expanding plumage, the parents, faithful guardians to the last, teach them how to fly, to ascend the tree with care, and at length to provide for their own wants. Ah! where are the moments which I have passed, in the fulness of ecstacy, contemplating the progress of these amiable creatures! Alas! they are gone, those summer days of hope and joy are fled, and the clouds of life's winter are mustering in their gloomy array.
This species breeds twice in the year, in the Southern and Middle States; seldom more than once, to the eastward of New York. In the State of Maine, they work at their nest late in May; in Nova Scotia not until June. Farther north I did not find them. Sometimes they are contented with the hole bored by any small Woodpecker, or even breed in the decayed hollow of a tree or fence. The eggs, five or six in number, are dull white, spotted with brown at the larger end. They are laid on detached particles of wood.
The notes of the White-breasted Nuthatch are remarkable on account of their nasal sound. Ordinarily they resemble the monosyllables hānk, hānk, kānk, kānk; but now and then in the spring, they emit a sweeter kind of chirp, whenever the sexes meet, or when they are feeding their young.
Its flight is rapid, and at times rather protracted. If crossing a river or a large field, they rise high, and proceed with a tolerably regular motion; but when passing from one tree to another, they form a gently incurvated sweep. They alight on small branches or twigs, and now and then betake themselves to the ground to search for food.
Their bill is strong and sharp, and they not unfrequently break acorns, chestnuts, &c., by placing them in the crevices of the bark of trees, or between the splinters of a fence-rail, where they are seen hammering at them for a considerable time. The same spot is usually resorted to by the Nuthatch as soon as it has proved to be a good and convenient one. A great object seems to be to procure the larvæ entombed in the kernels of the hard fruits, insects being at all times the favourite food of these birds. They are fond of roosting in their own nest, to which I believe many return year after year, simply cleaning or deepening it for the purpose of depositing their eggs in greater security. Like others of the tribe, they hang head-downwards to sleep, especially in a state of captivity.
The young obtain their full plumage during winter. The only differences between the male and the female are, a slight inferiority of the latter as to size, and a somewhat less depth of colouring. Like the other two species, they now and then alight on a top branch for an instant, in the manner used by other birds.
SITTA CAROLINENSIS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 177.—Lath. Index Ornith. vol. i. p. 262.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 96.
WHITE-BREASTED AMERICAN NUTHATCH, SITTA CAROLINENSIS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 10. pl. 2. fig. 3.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. i. p. 581.
Adult Male. Plate CLII. Fig. 1.
Bill straight, of the length of the head, very hard, conico-subulate, a little compressed, acute; upper mandible with the dorsal outline very slightly arched, the edges sharp towards the point; lower mandible smaller, of equal length, straight. Nostrils basal, round, half-closed by a membrane, partially covered by the frontal feathers. The general form is short and compact. Feet rather strong, the hind toe stout, and as long as the middle toe, with a strong hooked claw; the claws arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage soft, blended, with little gloss, excepting on the head. Wings rather short, broad, the second primary longest. Tail short, broad, even, of twelve rounded feathers.
Bill black, pale blue at the base of the lower mandible. Iris dark brown. Feet brown. The upper part of the head and the hind neck deep black, glossed with blue, that colour curving down on either side of the neck at its base. The back, wing, and tail-coverts, and middle feathers of the tail, light greyish-blue. Quills black, edged with bluish-grey; three lateral tail feathers black, with a broad band of white near the end, the rest black, excepting the middle ones. The sides of the head, space above the eye, fore neck and breast white; abdomen and lower tail-coverts brownish-red, with white tips; under wing-coverts black.
Length 5¼ inches, extent of wings 11; bill along the ridge 8/12, along the gap 10/12; tarsus 8/12, middle toe 10/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLII. Fig. 2, 2.
The female resembles the male.
THE YELLOW-RUMP WARBLER.
SYLVIA CORONATA, LATH.
PLATE CLIII. MALE AND YOUNG.
This very abundant species I observed in East Florida, on the 1st of March 1831, in full summer plumage. In South Carolina, no improvement on its winter dress could be seen on the 18th of the same month. On the 10th of April, many were procured by my friend BACHMAN and myself, in the neighbourhood of Charleston. They were in moult, especially about the head and neck, where the new feathers were still inclosed in their sheath; but so rapidly did the change take place, that, before a few days had elapsed, they were in full plumage.
During a winter spent in the Floridas, I saw these birds daily, and so had abundant opportunity of studying their manners. They were very social among themselves, skipped by day along the piazzas, balanced themselves in the air, opposite the sides of the houses, in search of spiders and insects, rambled among the low bushes of the gardens, and often dived among the large cabbage-leaves, where they searched for worms and larvæ. At night they roosted on the branches of the orange trees, in the luxuriant groves so abundant in that country. Frequently, in the early part of warm mornings, I saw flocks of them fly off to sea until they were out of sight, and again observed their return to land about an hour after. This circumstance I considered as indicative of their desire to migrate, and as shewing that their journeys are performed by day.
In the beginning of May, I found them so abundant in Maine, that the skirts of the woods seemed alive with them. They appeared to be merely waiting for warmer weather, that they might resume their journey northwards. As we advanced towards Labrador, I observed them at every place where we happened to land. They were plentiful in the Magdaleine Islands; and when we landed on the Labrador coast, they were among the first birds observed by our party.
As Professor MACCULLOCH of the Pictou University informed me, few breed in the province of Nova Scotia, nor had his sons, who are active collectors, ever found one of their nests in the vicinity of that town. I am indebted to his liberality for a nest with four eggs, which formed part of his fine collection. Although they are abundant in Labrador, we did not find any of their nests; but we had the good fortune to procure several young birds scarcely able to fly. The nest above mentioned was placed near the extremity of the branch of a low fir-tree, about five feet from the ground. It resembles that of the Sylvia æstiva of Latham, being firm, compact, the outer parts formed of silky fibres from different plants attached to the twigs near it by means of glutinous matter, mixed with stripes of the inner bark of some tree unknown to me. Within this is a deep and warm bed of thistle-down, and the inner layer consists of feathers and the fine hair of small quadrupeds. The eggs are rather large, of a light rosy tint, the shell thin and transparent; they are sparingly dotted with reddish-brown near the larger end, but in a circular manner, so that the extremity is unspotted.
This species feeds on insects, is an expert fly catcher, and a great devourer of caterpillars. During winter, however, its principal food consists of berries of various kinds, especially those of the Myrtle and Pokeweed. They also feed on the seeds of various grasses. When, at this season, a warm day occurs, and the insects are excited to activity, the Warblers are sure to be seen in pursuit of them. The rows of trees about the plantations are full of them, and, from the topmost to the lowest branches, they are seen gliding upwards, downwards, and in every direction, in full career after their prey, and seldom missing their aim. At this time of the year, they emit, at every movement, a single tweet, so very different from that of any other Warbler, that one can instantly recognise the species by it among a dozen. They rarely enter the woodlands, but prefer the neighbourhood of cultivated or old fields, the nurseries, gardens, and trees about towns, villages, or farm-houses, or by the sides of roads. They are careless of man, allowing him to approach within a few yards, or even feet, without manifesting much alarm. As they breed so far north, it is probable that they raise only one brood in the season. They return south early in September, already clad in their winter dress.
SYLVIA CORONATA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 538.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 78.
YELLOW-RUMP WARBLER, SYLVIA CORONATA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 138. pl. 17. fig. 4. and vol. v. p. 121. pl. 45. fig. 3.
YELLOW-CROWNED WARBLER, OR MYRTLE BIRD, SYLVIA CORONATA, Nuttall, Manual, p. 361.
Adult Male. Plate CLIII. fig. 1.
Bill short, straight, rather strong, tapering, compressed towards the end; upper mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, the tip slightly declinate, the edges sharp, with a slight notch near the tip, nostrils basal, oval, covered above by a membrane, and partially concealed by the feathers. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet of ordinary length, rather slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few long scutella, sharp behind; toes slender, free, the outer united to the second joint, the hind toe proportionally large; claws arched, slender, much compressed, acute.
Plumage blended, soft, without lustre. Wings longish, little curved; second and third quills longest; fourth almost equal; first scarcely shorter. Tail rather long, slightly emarginate, nearly even, the lateral feathers bent outwards.
Bill and feet black. Iris brown. The general colour of the plumage above is deep ash-grey, streaked with black; crown, rump, and sides of the head, rich yellow. Secondary coverts, and first row of large coverts tipped with white, of which there are thus two bars across the wing. Quills and tail dark-brown, slightly margined with greyish-brown; outer margin of the two outer tail feathers on each side white, and a spot of the same colour on the inner webs of the three outer towards the end. A small white line over the eye, and a touch of the same under it; lore and cheek black. Throat white, lower neck, fore part of the breast and sides variegated with black and white, the crest of the under parts white.
Length 5¼ inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the back 4/12; along the edge 5½/12; tarsus ¾.
Adult Female. Plate CLIII. Fig. 2.
The Female is rather less, and wants the yellow spot on the crown, although the feathers there are tinged with that colour at the base. The upper parts are of light brownish-olive, streaked with dusky, the lower parts whitish, tinged with olive, and streaked with dusky; the yellow spots on the breast and rump paler, and tinged with green. Feet and legs blackish-brown.
IRIS VERSICOLOR.
IRIS VERSICOLOR, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 233. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 29.—TRIANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. IRIDES, Juss.
Beardless; the stem round, flexuous, equal in height to the leaves, which are ensiform; the stigmas equalling the inner petals; capsules ovate, with their angles obtuse. This Iris is extremely common in all the swampy parts of the Southern States, and extends far up along the Mississippi. In many places I have seen beds of a quarter of an acre. It is cultivated here and there in gardens.
The Smilax represented grows abundantly in the same localities, climbing over any low bush so profusely as to cover it. The berries when ripe are eaten by many species of birds.
THE TENNESSEE WARBLER.
SYLVIA PEREGRINA, WILS.
PLATE CLIV. MALE.
So very rare does this little bird seem to be in the United States, that in the course of all my rambles I never saw more than three individuals of the species. The first was procured near Bayou Sara, in the State of Louisiana, in the spring of 1821, when I drew it with the holly twig on which it was standing when I shot it. The second I obtained in Louisiana also, not many miles from the same spot, in the autumn of 1829, and the last at Key West, in May 1832. Of its migrations or place of breeding I know nothing.
It is an active and nimble species, an expert catcher of flies, fond of hanging to the extremities of branches, like several others of the tribe. It utters a single mellow tweet, as it passes from one branch to another in search of food, or while on the wing, when it moves in a desultory manner for some distance, diving suddenly towards the tree on which it intends to alight. All the individuals which I procured were males.
SYLVIA PEREGRINA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 87.
TENNESSEE WARBLER, SYLVIA PEREGRINA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iii. p. 83. pl. 25. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 412.
Bill of moderate length, thick at the base, tapering, straight, acute; upper mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, the edges sharp, without a notch. Nostrils basal, oval, covered above by a membrane, and partially concealed by the feathers. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet of ordinary length, rather slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few long scutella, sharp behind; toes slender, free, the outer united to the second joint, the hind-toe proportionally large; claws arched, slender, much compressed, acute.
Plumage blended, soft. Wings longish, little curved; the second and third quills longest. Tail rather longish, nearly even, the lateral feathers bent outwards.
Bill dark brown, paler beneath. Iris hazel. Feet brown, tinged with blue. The general colour above is yellow-olive, the head darker, the under parts cream-coloured, fading behind into white. A pale yellow line over the eye; quills dark brown, the primaries margined with yellowish-grey; the wings without bands.
Length 4½ inches, extent of wings 8; bill along the back 4¼/12, along the edge 6/12; tarsus 8/12.
ILEX LAXIFLORA.
ILEX LAXIFLORA, Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 117. —TETRANDRIA TETRAGYNIA, Linn. RHAMMI, Juss.
Leaves ovate, sinuato-dentate, spinous, shiny, flat; peduncles supra-axillar, aggregated on the younger branches. An evergreen shrub, with yellowish-red berries.
THE BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER.
SYLVIA CANADENSIS, LATH.
PLATE CLV. MALE.
I have met with this species in every portion of the Southern and Western States, where, however, it is seen only in the early part of spring and in autumn, on its passage to and from its summer residence. In South Carolina it arrives about the 25th of March, and becomes more abundant in April; but it has left that country by the 10th of May. During its stay there, it keeps in deep woods, where it may be seen passing among the boughs, at a height of from ten to twenty feet from the ground.
Proceeding eastward, we find it more numerous, but residing only in the depth of the morasses and swampy thickets. I saw many individuals of the species in the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, after which I traced it through the upper parts of the State of New York into Maine, the British Provinces, and the Magdaleine Islands, in the Bay of St Lawrence. In Newfoundland I saw none, and in Labrador only a dead one, dry and shrivelled, deposited like a mummy in the fissure of a rock, where the poor bird had fallen a victim to the severity of the climate, from which it had vainly endeavoured to shelter itself.
I am indebted to the generous and most hospitable Professor MACCULLOCH of Pictou for the nest and eggs of this Warbler, which had been found by his sons, who are keen observers of birds. The nest is usually placed on the horizontal branch of a fir-tree, at a height of seven or eight feet from the ground. It is composed of slips of bark, mosses, and fibrous roots, and is lined with fine grass, on which is laid a warm bed of feathers. The eggs, four or five in number, are of a rosy tint, and, like those of most other Sylviæ, scantily sprinkled with reddish-brown at the larger end. Only one brood is raised in a season. The young, when fully fledged, resemble their parents in the colours of their plumage, which, however, is mixed with duller tints, the differences indicative of the sex being already observable.
The Black-throated Blue Warbler is an expert catcher of flies, pursues insects to a considerable distance in all directions, and in seizing them snaps its bill so as to produce a clicking sound. It now and then alights on a low plant, such as that represented in the plate, and moves along the branches searching for pupæ, ants, and insects. I have never heard its love-song, but its common note is a rather melancholy cheep. I am inclined to believe that it breeds in the State of Maine, having seen several individuals of both sexes not far from Eastport, in the beginning of June 1833, when several other species had nests.
SYLVIA CANADENSIS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 539.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 84.
BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 115. pl. 15. fig. 7.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 398.
Adult Male. Plate CLV.
Bill short, nearly straight, tapering, depressed at the base, compressed towards the end; upper mandible slightly arched in its dorsal outline, and in the sharp notchless edge. Nostrils basal, oval, covered above by a membrane, and partially concealed by the feathers. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few long scutella, sharp behind; toes slender, free, the outer united to the second joint, the hind-toe proportionally large; claws arched, slender, much compressed, acute.
Plumage blended, soft, slightly glossed. Wings longish, straight, third quill longish, second almost equal, fourth next in length, and not much longer than the first. Tail of moderate length, even, the lateral feathers bent outwards towards the end. Bristles at the base of the bill distinct.
Bill black. Iris dark brown. Feet light brown. The general colour of the plumage above is deep greyish-blue. Quills, coverts, and tail-feathers black, edged with blue; base of the primaries, excepting the first, white, forming a conspicuous spot on the wing; inner margin of most of the quills and tips of the secondaries, white, of which there is a large spot on the inner webs of the four outer quill-feathers on each side. Margin of the forehead all round, a line over the eye, the sides of the head, fore-neck and sides of the body deep black; the rest of the under parts white.
Length 5 inches, extent of wings 7½; bill along the back 4/12, along the edge 6/12; tarsus 9/12.
The Female resembles the male, but is somewhat paler in the colours.
THE CANADIAN COLUMBINE.
AQUILEGIA CANADENSIS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 1247. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 372.—POLYANDRIA PENTAGYNIA, Linn. RANUNCULACEÆ, Juss.
This species, which has the flowers of a bright red mixed with yellow, and is characterised by having the horns of the nectaries or petals straight, grows in the crevices of rocks, and in dry places near rivulets.
THE FLORIDA KEYS.
As the "Marion" neared the inlet called "Indian Key," which is situated on the eastern coast of the peninsula of Florida, my heart swelled with uncontrollable delight. Our vessel once over the coral reef that every where stretches along the shore like a great wall, reared by an army of giants, we found ourselves in safe anchoring ground, within a few furlongs of the land. The next moment saw the oars of a boat propelling us towards the shore, and in brief time we stood on the desired beach. With what delightful feelings did we gaze on the objects around us!—the gorgeous flowers, the singular and beautiful plants, the luxuriant trees. The balmy air which we breathed filled us with animation, so pure and salubrious did it seem to be. The birds which we saw were almost all new to us; their lovely forms appeared to be arrayed in more brilliant apparel than I had ever before seen, and as they gambolled in happy playfulness among the bushes, or glided over the light green waters, we longed to form a more intimate acquaintance with them.
Students of nature spend little time in introductions, especially when they present themselves to persons who feel an interest in their pursuits. This was the case with Mr THRUSTON, the Deputy Collector of the island, who shook us all heartily by the hand, and in a trice had a boat manned at our service. Accompanied by him, his pilot and fishermen, off we went, and after a short pull landed on a large key. Few minutes had elapsed, when shot after shot might be heard, and down came whirling through the air the objects of our desire. One thrust himself into the tangled groves that covered all but the beautiful coral beach that in a continued line bordered the island, while others gazed on the glowing and diversified hues of the curious inhabitants of the deep. I saw one of my party rush into the limpid element, to seize on a crab, that with claws extended upwards, awaited his approach, as if determined not to give way. A loud voice called him back to the land, for sharks are as abundant along these shores as pebbles, and the hungry prowlers could not have got a more savoury dinner.
The pilot, besides being a first-rate shot, possessed a most intimate acquaintance with the country. He had been a "conch-diver," and no matter what number of fathoms measured the distance between the surface of the water and its craggy bottom, to seek for curious shells in their retreat seemed to him more pastime than toil. Not a Cormorant or Pelican, a Flamingo, an Ibis, or Heron, had ever in his days formed its nest without his having marked the spot; and as to the Keys to which the Doves are wont to resort, he was better acquainted with them than many fops are with the contents of their pockets. In a word, he positively knew every channel that led to these islands, and every cranny along their shores. For years his employment had been to hunt those singular animals called Sea Cows or Marratees, and he had conquered hundreds of them, "merely," as he said, because the flesh and hide bring "a fair price," at Havannah. He never went anywhere to land without "Long Tom," which proved indeed to be a wonderful gun, and which made smart havoc when charged with "groceries," a term by which he designated the large shot which he used. In like manner, he never paddled his light canoe without having by his side the trusty javelin, with which he unerringly transfixed such fishes as he thought fit either for market or for his own use. In attacking turtles, netting, or overturning them, I doubt if his equal ever lived on the Florida coast. No sooner was he made acquainted with my errand, than he freely offered his best services, and from that moment until I left Key West he was seldom out of my hearing.
While the young gentlemen who accompanied us were engaged in procuring plants, shells, and small birds, he tapped me on the shoulder, and with a smile said to me, "Come along, I'll shew you something better worth your while." To the boat we betook ourselves, with the Captain and only a pair of tars, for more he said would not answer. The yawl for a while was urged at a great rate, but as we approached a point, the oars were taken in, and the pilot alone skulling, desired us to make ready, for in a few minutes we should have "rare sport." As we advanced, the more slowly did we move, and the most profound silence was maintained, until suddenly coming almost in contact with a thick shrubbery of mangroves, we beheld, right before us, a multitude of pelicans. A discharge of artillery seldom produced more effect;—the dead, the dying, and the wounded, fell from the trees upon the water, while those unscathed flew screaming through the air in terror and dismay. "There," said he, "did not I tell you so; is it not rare sport?" The birds, one after another, were lodged under the gunwales, when the pilot desired the Captain to order the lads to pull away. Within about half a mile we reached the extremity of the key. "Pull away," cried the pilot, "never mind them on the wing, for those black rascals don't mind a little firing—now, boys, lay her close under the nests." And there we were, with four hundred cormorants' nests over our heads. The birds were sitting, and when we fired, the number that dropped as if dead and plunged into the water was such, that I thought by some unaccountable means or other we had killed the whole colony. You would have smiled at the loud laugh and curious gestures of the pilot. "Gentlemen," said he, "almost a blank shot!" And so it was, for, on following the birds as one after another peeped up from the water, we found only a few unable to take to wing. "Now," said the pilot, "had you waited until I had spoken to the black villains, you might have killed a score or more of them." On inspection, we found that our shots had lodged in the tough dry twigs of which these birds form their nests, and that we had lost the more favourable opportunity of hitting them, by not waiting until they rose. "Never mind," said the pilot, "if you wish it, you may load the Lady of the Green Mantle[3] with them in less than a week. Stand still, my lads; and now, gentlemen, in ten minutes you and I will bring down a score of them." And so we did. As we rounded the island, a beautiful bird of the species called Peale's Egret, came up and was shot. We now landed, took in the rest of our party, and returned to Indian Key, where we arrived three hours before sunset.
The sailors and other individuals to whom my name and pursuits had become known, carried our birds to the pilot's house. His good wife had a room ready for me to draw in, and my assistant might have been seen busily engaged in skinning, while GEORGE LEHMAN was making a sketch of the lovely isle.
Time is ever precious to the student of nature. I placed several birds in their natural attitudes, and began to outline them. A dance had been prepared also, and no sooner was the sun lost to our eye, than males and females, including our captain and others from the vessel, were seen advancing gaily towards the house in full apparel. The birds were skinned, the sketch was on paper, and I told my young men to amuse themselves. As to myself, I could not join in the merriment, for, full of the remembrance of you, reader, and of the patrons of my work both in America and in Europe, I went on "grinding"—not on an organ, like the Lady of Bras d'Or, but on paper, to the finishing, not merely of my outlines, but of my notes respecting the objects seen this day.
The room adjoining that in which I worked, was soon filled. Two miserable fiddlers screwed their screeching silken strings—not an inch of catgut graced their instruments; and the bouncing of brave lads and fair lasses shook the premises to the foundation. One with a slip came down heavily on the floor, and the burst of laughter that followed echoed over the isle. Diluted claret was handed round to cool the ladies, while a beverage of more potent energies warmed their partners. After supper our captain returned to the Marion, and I, with my young men, slept in light swinging hammocks under the eaves of the piazza.
It was the end of April, when the nights were short and the days therefore long. Anxious to turn every moment to account, we were on board Mr THRUSTON'S boat at three next morning. Pursuing our way through the deep and tortuous channels that every where traverse the immense muddy soap-like flats that stretch from the outward Keys to the Main, we proceeded on our voyage of discovery. Here and there we met with great beds of floating sea-weeds, which shewed us that Turtles were abundant there, these masses being the refuse of their feeding. On talking to Mr THRUSTON of the nature of these muddy flats, he mentioned that he had once been lost amongst their narrow channels for several days and nights, when in pursuit of some smugglers' boat, the owners of which were better acquainted with the place than the men who were along with him. Although in full sight of several of the Keys, as well as of the main land, he was unable to reach either, until a heavy gale raised the water, when he sailed directly over the flats, and returned home almost exhausted with fatigue and hunger. His present pilot often alluded to the circumstance afterwards, ending with a great laugh, and asserting that had he "been there, the rascals would not have escaped."
Coming under a Key on which multitudes of Frigate Pelicans had begun to form their nests, we shot a good number of them, and observed their habits. The boastings of our pilot were here confirmed by the exploits which he performed with his long gun, and on several occasions he brought down a bird from a height of fully a hundred yards. The poor birds, unaware of the range of our artillery, sailed calmly along, so that it was not difficult for "Long Tom," or rather for his owner, to furnish us with as many as we required. The day was spent in this manner, and towards night we returned, laden with booty, to the hospitable home of the pilot.
The next morning was delightful. The gentle sea-breeze glided over the flowery isle, the horizon was clear, and all was silent save the long breakers that rushed over the distant reefs. As we were proceeding towards some Keys, seldom visited by men, the sun rose from the bosom of the waters with a burst of glory that flashed on my soul the idea of that power which called into existence so magnificent an object. The moon, thin and pale, as if ashamed to shew her feeble light, concealed herself in the dim west. The surface of the waters shone in its tremulous smoothness, and the deep blue of the clear heavens was pure as the world that lies beyond them. The Heron heavily flew towards the land, like the glutton retiring at day-break, with well-lined paunch, from the house of some wealthy patron of good cheer. The Night Heron and the Owl, fearful of day, with hurried flight sought safety in the recesses of the deepest swamps; while the Gulls and Terns, ever cheerful, gambolled over the water, exulting in the prospect of abundance. I also exulted in hope, my whole frame seemed to expand; and our sturdy crew shewed, by their merry faces, that nature had charms for them too. How much of beauty and joy is lost to them who never view the rising sun, and of whose waking existence the best half is nocturnal!
Twenty miles our men had to row before we reached "Sandy Island," and as on its level shores we all leaped, we plainly saw the southernmost cape of the Floridas. The flocks of birds that covered the shelly beaches, and those hovering over head, so astonished us that we could for a while scarcely believe our eyes. The first volley procured a supply of food sufficient for two days' consumption. Such tales, you have already been told, are well enough at a distance from the place to which they refer; but you will doubtless be still more surprised when I tell you that our first fire among a crowd of the Great Godwits laid prostrate sixty-five of these birds. Rose-coloured Curlews stalked gracefully beneath the mangroves; Purple Herons rose at almost every step we took, and each cactus supported the nest of a White Ibis. The air was darkened by whistling wings, while, on the waters, floated Gallinules and other interesting birds. We formed a kind of shed with sticks and grass, the sailor cook commenced his labours, and ere long we supplied the deficiencies of our fatigued frames. The business of the day over, we secured ourselves from insects by means of musquito-nets, and were lulled to rest by the cacklings of the beautiful Purple Gallinules!
In the morning we arose from our sandy beds, and—
THE AMERICAN CROW.
CORVUS AMERICANUS.
PLATE CLVI. MALE.
The Crow is an extremely shy bird, having found familiarity with man no way to his advantage. He is also cunning—at least he is so called, because he takes care of himself and his brood. The state of anxiety, I may say of terror, in which he is constantly kept, would be enough to spoil the temper of any creature. Almost every person has an antipathy to him, and scarcely one of his race would be left in the land, did he not employ all his ingenuity, and take advantage of all his experience, in counteracting the evil machinations of his enemies. I think I see him perched on the highest branch of a tree, watching every object around. He observes a man on horseback travelling towards him; he marks his movements in silence. No gun does the rider carry,—no, that is clear; but perhaps he has pistols in the holsters of his saddle!—of that the Crow is not quite sure, as he cannot either see them or "smell powder." He beats the points of his wings, jerks his tail once or twice, bows his head, and merrily sounds the joy which he feels at the moment. Another man he spies walking across the field towards his stand, but he has only a stick. Yonder comes a boy shouldering a musket loaded with large shot for the express purpose of killing crows! The bird immediately sounds an alarm; he repeats his cries, increasing their vehemence the nearer his enemy advances. All the crows within half a mile round are seen flying off, each repeating the well known notes of the trusty watchman, who, just as the young gunner is about to take aim, betakes himself to flight. But alas, he chances unwittingly to pass over a sportsman, whose dexterity is greater; the mischievous prowler aims his piece, fires;—down towards the earth broken-winged, falls the luckless bird in an instant. "It is nothing but a crow," quoth the sportsman, who proceeds in search of game, and leaves the poor creature to die in the most excruciating agonies.
Wherever within the Union the laws encourage the destruction of this species, it is shot in great numbers for the sake of the premium offered for each crow's head. You will perhaps be surprised, reader, when I tell you that in one single State, in the course of a season, 40,000 were shot, besides the multitudes of young birds killed in their nests. Must I add to this slaughter other thousands destroyed by the base artifice of laying poisoned grain along the fields to tempt these poor birds? Yes, I will tell you of all this too. The natural feelings of every one who admires the bounty of Nature in providing abundantly for the subsistence of all her creatures, prompt me to do so. Like yourself, I admire all her wonderful works, and respect her wise intentions, even when her laws are far beyond our limited comprehension.
The Crow devours myriads of grubs every day of the year, that might lay waste the farmer's fields; it destroys quadrupeds innumerable, every one of which is an enemy to his poultry and his flocks. Why then should the farmer be so ungrateful, when he sees such services rendered to him by a providential friend, as to persecute that friend even to the death? Unless he plead ignorance, surely he ought to be found guilty at the bar of common sense. Were the soil of the United States, like that of some other countries, nearly exhausted by long continued cultivation, human selfishness in such a matter might be excused, and our people might look on our Crows, as other people look on theirs; but every individual in the land is aware of the superabundance of food that exists among us, and of which a portion may well be spared for the feathered beings, that tend to enhance our pleasures by the sweetness of their song, the innocence of their lives, or their curious habits. Did not every American open his door and his heart to the wearied traveller, and afford him food, comfort and rest, I would at once give up the argument; but when I know by experience the generosity of the people, I cannot but wish that they would reflect a little, and become more indulgent toward our poor, humble, harmless, and even most serviceable bird, the Crow.
The American Crow is common in all parts of the United States. It becomes gregarious immediately after the breeding season, when it forms flocks sometimes containing hundreds, or even thousands. Towards autumn, the individuals bred in the Eastern Districts almost all remove to the Southern States, where they spend the winter in vast numbers.
The voice of our Crow is very different from that of the European species which comes nearest to it in appearance, so much so indeed, that this circumstance, together with others relating to its organization, has induced me to distinguish it, as you see, by a peculiar name, that of Corvus Americanus. I hope you will think me excusable in this, should my ideas prove to be erroneous, when I tell you that the Magpie of Europe is assuredly the very same bird as that met with in the western wilds of the United States, although some ornithologists have maintained the contrary, and that I am not disposed to make differences in name where none exist in nature. I consider our Crow as rather less than the European one, and the form of its tongue does not resemble that of the latter bird; besides the Carrion Crow of that country seldom associates in numbers, but remains in pairs, excepting immediately after it has brought its young abroad, when the family remains undispersed for some weeks.
Wherever our Crow is abundant, the Raven is rarely found, and vice versa. From Kentucky to New Orleans, Ravens are extremely rare, whereas in that course you find one or more Crows at every half mile. On the contrary, far up the Missouri, as well as on the coast of Labrador, few Crows are to be seen, while Ravens are common. I found the former birds equally scarce in Newfoundland.
Omnivorous like the Raven, our Crow feeds on fruits, seeds, and vegetables of almost every kind; it is equally fond of snakes, frogs, lizards, and other small reptiles; it looks upon various species of worms, grubs and insects as dainties; and if hard pressed by hunger, it will alight upon and devour even putrid carrion. It is as fond of the eggs of other birds as is the Cuckoo, and, like the Titmouse, it will, during a paroxysm of anger, break in the skull of a weak or wounded bird. It delights in annoying its twilight enemies the Owls, the Opossum, and the Racoon, and will even follow by day a fox, a wolf, a panther, or in fact any other carnivorous beast, as if anxious that man should destroy them for their mutual benefit. It plunders the fields of their superabundance, and is blamed for so doing, but it is seldom praised when it chases the thieving Hawk from the poultry-yard.
The American Crow selects with uncommon care its breeding place. You may find its nest in the interior of our most dismal swamps, or on the sides of elevated and precipitous rocks, but almost always as much concealed from the eye of man as possible. They breed in almost every portion of the Union, from the Southern Cape of the Floridas to the extremities of Maine, and probably as far westward as the Pacific Ocean. The period of nestling varies from February to the beginning of June, according to the latitude of the place. Its scarcity on the coast of Labrador, furnishes one of the reasons that have induced me to believe it different from the Carrion Crow of Europe; for there I met with several species of birds common to both countries, which seldom enter the United States farther than the vicinity of our most eastern boundaries.
The nest, however, greatly resembles that of the European Crow, as much, in fact, as that of the American Magpie resembles the nest of the European. It is formed externally of dry sticks, interwoven with grasses, and is within thickly plastered with mud or clay, and lined with fibrous roots and feathers. The eggs are from four to six, of a pale greenish colour, spotted and clouded with a purplish-grey and brownish-green. In the Southern States they raise two broods in the season, but to the eastward seldom more than one. Both sexes incubate, and their parental care and mutual attachment are not surpassed by those of any other bird. Although the nests of this species often may be found near each other, their proximity is never such as occurs in the case of the Fish-Crow, of which many nests may be seen on the same tree.
When the nest of this species happens to be discovered, the faithful pair raise such a hue and cry that every Crow in the neighbourhood immediately comes to their assistance, passing in circles high over the intruder until he has retired, or following him, if he has robbed it, as far as their regard for the safety of their own will permit them. As soon as the young leave the nest, the family associates with others, and in this manner they remain in flocks till spring. Many crows' nests may be found within a few acres of the same wood, and in this particular their habits accord more with those of the Rooks of Europe (Corvus frugilegus), which, as you very well know, breed and spend their time in communities. The young of our Crow, like that of the latter species, are tolerable food when taken a few days before the period of their leaving the nest.
The flight of the American Crow is swift, protracted, and at times performed at a great elevation. They are now and then seen to sail among the Turkey Buzzards or Carrion Crows, in company with their relatives the Fish-Crows, none of the other birds, however, shewing the least antipathy towards them, although the Vultures manifest dislike whenever a White-headed Eagle comes among them.
In the latter part of autumn and in winter, in the Southern States, this Crow is particularly fond of frequenting burnt grounds. Even while the fire is raging in one part of the fields, the woods, or the prairies, where tall grass abounds, the Crows are seen in great numbers in the other, picking up and devouring the remains of mice and other small quadrupeds, as well as lizards, snakes, and insects, which have been partly destroyed by the flames. At the same season they retire in immense numbers to roost by the margins of ponds, lakes, and rivers, covered with a luxuriant growth of rank weeds or cat-tails. They may be seen proceeding to such places more than an hour before sunset, in long straggling lines, and in silence, and are joined by the Grakles, Starlings, and Reed Birds, while the Fish-Crows retire from the very same parts to the interior of the woods many miles distant from any shores.
No sooner has the horizon brightened at the approach of day, than the Crows sound a reveillé, and then with mellowed notes, as it were, engage in a general thanksgiving for the peaceful repose they have enjoyed. After this they emit their usual barking notes, as if consulting each other respecting the course they ought to follow. Then parties in succession fly off to pursue their avocations, and relieve the reeds from the weight that bent them down.
The Crow is extremely courageous in encountering any of its winged enemies. Several individuals may frequently be seen pursuing a Hawk or an Eagle with remarkable vigour, although I never saw or heard of one pouncing on any bird for the purpose of preying on it. They now and then teaze the Vultures, when those foul birds are alighted on trees, with their wings spread out, but they soon desist, for the Vultures pay no attention to them.
The most remarkable feat of the Crow, is the nicety with which it, like the Jay, pierces an egg with its bill, in order to carry it off, and eat it with security. In this manner I have seen it steal, one after another, all the eggs of a wild Turkey's nest. You will perceive, reader, that I endeavour to speak of the Crow with all due impartiality, not wishing by any means to conceal its faults, nor withholding my testimony to its merits, which are such as I can well assure the farmer, that were it not for its race, thousands of corn stalks would every year fall prostrate, in consequence of being cut over close to the ground by the destructive grubs which are called "cut-worms."
I never saw a pet Crow in the United States, and therefore cannot say with how much accuracy they may imitate the human voice, or, indeed, if they possess the power of imitating it at all, which I very much doubt, as in their natural state they never evince any talents for mimicry. I cannot say if it possess the thieving propensities attributed by authors to the European Crow.
Its gait, while on the ground, is elevated and graceful, its ordinary mode of progression being a sedate walk, although it occasionally hops when under excitement. It not unfrequently alights on the backs of cattle, to pick out the worms lurking in their skin, in the same manner as the Magpie, Fish-Crow, and Cow-bird. Its note or cry may be imitated by the syllables cāw, cāw, cāw, being different from the cry of the European Carrion Crow, and resembling the distant bark of a small dog.
At Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania I saw a pair of Crows perfectly white, in the possession of Mr LAMPDIN, the owner of the museum there, who assured me that five which were found in the nest were of the same colour.
I have placed the pensive oppressed Crow of our country on a beautiful branch of the Black Walnut tree, loaded with nuts, on the lower twig of which I have represented the delicate nest of our Common Humming Bird, to fulfil the promise which I made when writing the history of that species for my first volume.
In conclusion, I would again address our farmers, and tell them that if they persist in killing Crows, the best season for doing so is when their corn begins to ripen.
CORVUS AMERICANUS.
CORVUS CORONE, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 56.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 209.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer. vol. ii. p. 291.
THE CROW, CORVUS CORONE, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 79. pl. 35 fig. 3.
Adult Male. Plate CLVI.
Bill longish, straight, robust, compressed; upper mandible with the dorsal line a little convex, declinate towards the end, the sides convex; lower mandible straight, the sides inclined obliquely outwards; the edges of both sharp and inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, round, covered by bristly feathers, which are directed forwards. Head large, neck of ordinary length, body of moderate proportions, the whole form rather compact and not inelegant. Legs of moderate length, strong; tarsus anteriorly scutellate, rather longer than the middle toe; toes scutellate above, separated almost to the base; first, second, and fourth nearly equal in length, third longest; claws moderate, arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage of the back compact, of the head and neck blended, and glossy, of the lower parts rather loose. Stiff bristly feathers with disunited barbs over the nostrils, directed forwards and adpressed. Wings long, first primary short, fourth longest; primaries tapering, secondaries broad, the outer abrupt with a minute acumen, the inner rounded. Tail rather long, rounded, of twelve nearly straight, rounded feathers, their shafts distinctly undulated.
Beak, tarsi, toes and claws, black. Iris brown. The general colour of the plumage is deep black, with purplish-blue reflections, the hind parts of the neck tinged with purplish-brown; the lower parts less glossy.
Length 18 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 2 inches; bill along the ridge 2-2/12; tarsus 2½.
The Female differs from the Male in being less glossy, but the difference is not very perceptible. The young when fully fledged are of a rather dull brownish-black, with the blue and purple reflections much less brilliant.
After a careful comparison of specimens of the European Carrion Crow with others of the American Crow, I have found decided differences, which to me seem quite sufficient to set the question of their identity at rest.
The European Crow is larger than the American; the length of the former being 20 inches, that of the latter 18; and the wing from the flexure to the extremity is proportional, being in the one 13¼ inches, in the other 12.
The bill is stronger and deeper, more convex on the sides, and with the edges more involute in the Carrion Crow than in the American Crow, the depth at the base in the former being 10/12, in the latter 8½/12.
The scutella of the tarsus in both are 10, but the feet of the Carrion Crow are much stronger and its toes and claws larger than those of the other. In the European Crow, the fourth primary is longest, the third almost equal, and this is also the case in the American, although slight differences occur in individuals.
The principal character besides the different form of the bill, is to be found in the feathers of the neck. In the European bird, the feathers of the hind neck are narrow, and although blended, have their points distinct; while in the American bird, they are broad, rounded, and perfectly blended, so that their individual form cannot be traced. The feathers of the fore neck in the former are lanceolate, compact at the end, and, although shorter, resemble those of the Raven; but in the American Crow they are three times as broad, rounded, and entirely blended.
Lastly, the American species has a decided purplish-brown tinge on the neck, while the European bird has that part glossed with green and blue.
I am happy on this occasion to have an opportunity of referring you to an excellent paper, on the specific characters of birds, by Mr MACGILLIVRAY, which you will find in the Transactions of the Wernerian Natural History Society, and in which he shews the great advantage that may be derived from attending to the structure and form of the feathers. The characters by which the American Crow is distinguished from the European Carrion Crow are an exemplification of his views, in which I cordially agree:—"Allowing," says he, "only a partial application of the principle of characterizing the species by the forms of the feathers, even this would be a matter of importance; and were the attention of ornithologists directed toward this point, there can be little doubt that discoveries would quickly be made, which would determine species and varieties with much greater precision than can be attained by attending to colour alone."
THE BLACK WALNUT.
JUGLANS NIGRA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 456. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 636. Mich. Arbr. Forest. vol. i. p. 157. pl. i.—MONŒCIA POLYANDRIA, Linn. TEREBINTHACEÆ, Juss.
The Black Walnut of the United States is generally a tree of beautiful form, and often, especially in the Western and Southern States, attains a great size. Wherever it is found, you may calculate on the land being of good quality; the wood is very firm, of a dark brown tint, veined, and extremely useful for domestic purposes, many articles of furniture being made of it. It is also employed in ship-building. When used for posts or fence rails, it resists the action of the weather for many years. The nuts are gathered late in autumn, and although rather too oily, are eaten and considered good by many persons. The husking of them is however a disagreeable task, as their covering almost indelibly stains every object with which it comes in contact.
See Vol. I. p. 433.
THE RUSTY GRAKLE.
QUISCALUS FERRUGINEUS, BONAP.
PLATE CLVII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.
In the winter months the Rusty Grakle is found as far south as Lower Louisiana and the Floridas, which it reaches in small flocks, along with the Cow Bunting and Red-winged Starling, with which it continues frequently to associate until the return of spring. At this season it occurs in all the Southern and Western States, as well as in the Middle and Eastern Districts, where some remain during the most severe cold.
These Grakles are fond of the company of cattle, and are seen with them in the pastures or in the farm-yards, searching for food among their droppings, and picking up a few grains of the refuse corn. They are less shy than the other species, possibly because less acquainted with man, as they retire to the north for the purpose of breeding. In the winter they frequently resort to moist places, such as are met with round the ponds and low swampy meadows, where you sometimes find a single one remaining for weeks apart from its companions. They then feed on aquatic insects and small snails, for which they search diligently among the rank reeds or sedges, which they climb with great agility. Their note is a kind of chuck. It is rare to meet with them in full plumage at this time, even the old males becoming rather rusty, instead of being of a pure glossy black, as they are in spring.
About the beginning of March, the males are seen moving northwards. They cross the greater part of the United States almost in silence and unheeded, seldom tarrying any where until they reach the State of Maine, where some few remain to breed, while the greater number advance farther north. I saw some of these birds on the Magdeleine Islands, in Newfoundland, as well as in Labrador, where many breed. Their migrations are performed by day.
In their habits they resemble the Red-winged Starling, becoming loquacious at this season, and having a lively and agreeable song, although less powerful in tone than that of the species just mentioned. Equally fond of the vicinity of meadows or moist places, they construct their nests in the low bushes that occur there. The nest is not so large as that of the Redwing, but is composed of much the same materials. In Labrador I found it lined with moss instead of coarse grass. The eggs are four or five, of a light blue colour, streaked and dashed with straggling lines of brown and deep black, much smaller than those of the Redwing, but in other respects bearing a considerable resemblance to them. They begin to lay about the 1st of June, in the State of Maine, and fully a fortnight later in Labrador. They raise only one brood in the season. The young, when first able to fly, are nearly of an uniform brown, brighter on the breast and shoulders. Although they seem to prefer alder and willow bushes, for the purpose of incubation, I have found their nests among the tall reeds of the Cat's-tail or Typha, to which they were attached by interweaving the leaves of the plant with the grasses and stripes of bark of which they were externally composed.
During early autumn, and before they remove southward, they frequently resort to the sandy beaches of lakes, rivers, and the sea, in search of small testaceous mollusca and aquatic insects. They do little or no mischief in the corn-fields. While walking they frequently jerk their tail, and move with much grace, in the same manner as other birds of the genus. Their flight resembles that of the Red-winged species.
An acquaintance of mine, residing in New Orleans, found one of these birds, a beautiful male in full plumage, not far from that city, while on one of his accustomed walks. It had been shot, but was only slightly injured in one of its wings, and as it was full of vivacity, and had a clear and brilliant eye, indicating that its health had not suffered, he took it home and put it in a cage with several Painted Buntings. They soon became accustomed to each other, the Grakle evincing no desire to molest its smaller companions. I saw it when it had already been caged upwards of four months, and had the satisfaction to hear it sing repeatedly. Its notes, however, were less sonorous than they usually are when the birds are at liberty. It frequently uttered its travelling chuck-note. It was fed entirely on rice. This was the only specimen I ever saw in captivity, and it proved a very amiable companion.
I have figured four of these birds, to enable you the better to understand their different states of plumage, and placed them on a plant of the genus Prunus, which grows in Louisiana, and on the berries of which they occasionally feed.
ORIOLUS FERRUGINEUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 126.
QUISCALUS FERRUGINEUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 55.
SCOLECOPHAGUS FERRUGINEUS, RUSTY MAGGOT-EATER, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 286.
RUSTY GRAKLE, GRACULA FERRUGINEA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iii. p. 41. pl. 21. fig. 3. Male.
RUSTY BLACKBIRD, QUISCALUS FERRUGINEUS, Nuttall, Manual, p. 199.
Adult Male. Plate CLVII. Fig. 1.
Bill of moderate length, straight, tapering, compressed from the base; upper mandible prolonged on the forehead, forming an acute angle there, a little declinate at the tip, the dorsal outline slightly convex, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected; lower mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, convex on the sides, the edges sharp and inflected; gap-line deflected at the base. Nostrils basal, oval, half closed above by a membrane. Head of ordinary size, neck rather short, body rather slender. Feet of moderate length, strong; tarsus compressed, with a few long scutella anteriorly, sharp behind; toes compressed, the lateral nearly equal, the outer united as far as the second joint to the middle, which is much longer, hind-toe not much stouter than the inner; claws rather long, arched, compressed, very acute.
Plumage soft, blended, glossy. Wings rather long, second quill longest, first and fourth equal. Tail rather long, slightly rounded, of twelve broad feathers.
Bill and feet black. Iris pale yellow. The general colour is deep black, with greenish and bluish reflections.
Length 9¼ inches, extent of wings 14¼; bill along the back ¾, along the edge 11/12; tarsus 1¼.
Adult Female. Plate CLVII. Fig. 2.
Bill, iris, and feet as in the male. The general colour is brownish-black; the sides of the head over the eyes, and a broad band beneath it light yellowish-brown, the feathers of the lower parts more or less margined with brownish.
Length 8-11/12 inches, extent of wings 13½.
Young bird fully fledged. Plate CLVII. Fig. 3, 3.
Bill and feet brownish-black. Iris pale yellow. Head and neck light brown, the rest of the upper parts brownish-black, edged with light reddish-brown, the rump tinged with grey. A band over the eye, and the fore part and sides of the neck and breast pale yellowish-brown, sides tinged with brown, under tail-coverts dusky.
THE BLACK HAW.
PRUNUS NIGRA, Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 331. —ICOSANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. ROSACEÆ, Juss.
Leaves deciduous, ovate, acuminate, unequally serrate, smooth on both sides; umbels sessile, solitary, few-flowered.
This species of Prunus, which is tolerably abundant in Louisiana, the only State in which I have observed it, grows along the borders of the forest, and often attains a height of thirty or more feet. Its leaves fall at a very early period, but its fruits, which are pleasant to the taste, remain until after the first frosts, or until devoured by birds, opossums, squirrels, or racoons.
THE CHIMNEY SWALLOW, OR AMERICAN SWIFT.
CYPSELUS PELASGIUS, TEMM.
PLATE CLVIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.
Since our country has furnished thousands of convenient places for this Swallow to breed in, free from storms, snakes, or quadrupeds, it has abandoned, with a judgment worthy of remark, its former abodes in the hollows of trees, and taken possession of the chimneys, which emit no smoke in the summer season. For this reason, no doubt, it has obtained the name by which it is generally known. I well remember the time when, in Lower Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois, many resorted to excavated branches and trunks, for the purpose of breeding; nay, so strong is the influence of original habit, that not a few still betake themselves to such places, not only to roost, but also to breed, especially in those wild portions of our country that can scarcely be said to be inhabited. In such instances, they appear to be as nice in the choice of a tree, as they generally are in our cities in the choice of a chimney, wherein to roost, before they leave us. Sycamores of gigantic growth, and having a mere shell of bark and wood to support them, seem to suit them best, and wherever I have met with one of those patriarchs of the forest rendered habitable by decay, there I have found the Swallows breeding in spring and summer, and afterwards roosting until the time of their departure. I had a tree of this kind cut down, which contained about thirty of their nests in its trunk, and one in each of the hollow branches.
The nest, whether placed in a tree or chimney, consists of small dry twigs, which are procured by the birds in a singular manner. While on wing, the Chimney Swallows are seen in great numbers whirling round the tops of some decayed or dead tree, as if in pursuit of their insect prey. Their movements at this time are extremely rapid; they throw their body suddenly against the twig, grapple it with their feet, and by an instantaneous jerk, snap it off short, and proceed with it to the place intended for the nest. The Frigate Pelican sometimes employs the same method for a similar purpose, carrying away the stick in its bill, in place of holding it with its feet.
The Swallow fixes the first sticks on the wood, the rock, or the chimney wall, by means of its saliva, arranging them in a semicircular form, crossing and interweaving them, so as to extend the framework outwards. The whole is afterwards glued together with saliva, which is spread around it for an inch or more, to fasten it securely. When the nest is in a chimney, it is generally placed on the east side, and is from five to eight feet from the entrance; but in the hollow of a tree, where only they breed in communities, it is placed high or low according to convenience. The fabric, which is very frail, now and then gives way, either under the pressure of the parents and young, or during sudden bursts of heavy rain, when the whole is dashed to the ground. The eggs are from four to six, and of a pure white colour. Two broods are raised in the season.
The flight of this species is performed somewhat in the manner of the European Swift, but in a more hurried although continued style, and generally by repeated flappings, unless when courtship is going on, on which occasion it is frequently seen sailing with its wings fixed as it were, both sexes as they glide through the air issuing a shrill rattling twitter, and the female receiving the caresses of the male. At other times it is seen ranging far and wide at a considerable elevation over the forests and cities; again, in wet weather, it flies close over the ground; and anon it skims the water, to drink and bathe. When about to descend into a hollow tree or a chimney, its flight, always rapid, is suddenly interrupted as if by magic, for down it goes in an instant, whirling in a peculiar manner, and whirring with its wings, so as to produce a sound in the chimney like the rumbling of very distant thunder. They never alight on trees or on the ground. If one is caught and placed on the latter, it can only move in a very awkward fashion. I believe that the old birds sometimes fly at night, and have reason to think that the young are fed at such times, as I have heard the whirring sound of the former, and the acknowledging cries of the latter, during calm and clear nights.
When the young accidentally fall, which sometimes happens, although the nest should remain, they scramble up again, by means of their sharp claws, lifting one foot after another, in the manner of young Wood Ducks, and supporting themselves with their tail. Some days before the young are able to fly, they scramble up the walls to near the mouth of the chimney, where they are fed. Any observer may discover this, as he sees the parents passing close over them, without entering the funnel. The same occurrence takes place when they are bred in a tree.
In the cities, these birds make choice of a particular chimney for their roosting place, where, early in spring, before they have begun building, both sexes resort in multitudes, from an hour or more before sunset, until long after dark. Before entering the aperture, they fly round and over it many times, but finally go in one at a time, until hurried by the lateness of the hour, several drop in together. They cling to the wall with their claws, supporting themselves also by their sharp tail, until the dawn, when, with a roaring sound, the whole pass out almost at once. Whilst at St Francisville in Louisiana, I took the trouble of counting how many entered one chimney before dark. I sat at a window not far from the spot, and reckoned upwards of a thousand, having missed a considerable number. The place at that time contained about a hundred houses, and no doubt existed in my mind that the greater number of these birds were on their way southward, and had merely stopped there for the night.
Immediately after my arrival at Louisville, in the State of Kentucky, I became acquainted with the hospitable and amiable Major WILLIAM CROGHAN and his family. While talking one day about birds, he asked me if I had seen the trees in which the Swallows were supposed to spend the winter, but which they only entered, he said, for the purpose of roosting. Answering in the affirmative, I was informed that on my way back to town, there was a tree remarkable on account of the immense numbers that resorted to it, and the place in which it stood was described to me. I found it to be a sycamore, nearly destitute of branches, sixty or seventy feet high, between seven and eight feet in diameter at the base, and about five for the distance of forty feet up, where the stump of a broken hollowed branch, about two feet in diameter, made out from the main stem. This was the place at which the Swallows entered. On closely examining the tree, I found it hard, but hollow to near the roots. It was now about four o'clock after noon, in the month of July. Swallows were flying over Jeffersonville, Louisville, and the woods around, but there were none near the tree. I proceeded home, and shortly after returned on foot. The sun was going down behind the Silver Hills; the evening was beautiful; thousands of Swallows were flying closely above me, and three or four at a time were pitching into the hole, like bees hurrying into their hive. I remained, my head leaning on the tree, listening to the roaring noise made within by the birds as they settled and arranged themselves, until it was quite dark, when I left the place, although I was convinced that many more had to enter. I did not pretend to count them, for the number was too great, and the birds rushed to the entrance so thick as to baffle the attempt. I had scarcely returned to Louisville, when a violent thunder-storm passed suddenly over the town, and its appearance made me think that the hurry of the Swallows to enter the tree was caused by their anxiety to avoid it. I thought of the Swallows almost the whole night, so anxious had I become to ascertain their number, before the time of their departure should arrive.
Next morning I rose early enough to reach the place long before the least appearance of daylight, and placed my head against the tree. All was silent within. I remained in that posture probably twenty minutes, when suddenly I thought the great tree was giving way, and coming down upon me. Instinctively I sprung from it, but when I looked up to it again, what was my astonishment to see it standing as firm as ever. The Swallows were now pouring out in a black continued stream. I ran back to my post, and listened in amazement to the noise within, which I could compare to nothing else than the sound of a large wheel revolving under a powerful stream. It was yet dusky, so that I could hardly see the hour on my watch, but I estimated the time which they took in getting out at more than thirty minutes. After their departure, no noise was heard within, and they dispersed in every direction with the quickness of thought.
I immediately formed the project of examining the interior of the tree, which, as my kind friend, Major CROGHAN, had told me, proved the most remarkable I had ever met with. This I did, in company with a hunting associate. We went provided with a strong line and a rope, the first of which we, after several trials, succeeded in throwing across the broken branch. Fastening the rope to the line we drew it up, and pulled it over until it reached the ground again. Provided with the longest cane we could find, I mounted the tree by the rope, without accident, and at length seated myself at ease on the broken branch; but my labour was fruitless, for I could see nothing through the hole, and the cane, which was about fifteen feet long, touched nothing on the sides of the tree within that could give any information. I came down fatigued and disappointed.
The next day I hired a man, who cut a hole at the base of the tree. The shell was only eight or nine inches thick, and the axe soon brought the inside to view, disclosing a matted mass of exuviæ, with rotten feathers reduced to a kind of mould, in which, however, I could perceive fragments of insects and quills. I had a passage cleared, or rather bored through this mass, for nearly six feet. This operation took up a good deal of time, and knowing by experience that if the birds should notice the hole below, they would abandon the tree, I had it carefully closed. The Swallows came as usual that night, and I did not disturb them for several days. At last, provided with a dark lantern, I went with my companion about nine in the evening, determined to have a full view of the interior of the tree. The hole was opened with caution. I scrambled up the sides of the mass of exuviæ, and my friend followed. All was perfectly silent. Slowly and gradually I brought the light of the lantern to bear on the sides of the hole above us, when we saw the Swallows clinging side by side, covering the whole surface of the excavation. In no instance did I see one above another. Satisfied with the sight, I closed the lantern. We then caught and killed with as much care as possible more than a hundred, stowing them away in our pockets and bosoms, and slid down into the open air. We observed that, while on this visit, not a bird had dropped its dung upon us. Closing the entrance, we marched towards Louisville perfectly elated. On examining the birds which we had procured, a hundred and fifteen in number, we found only six females. Eighty-seven were adult males; of the remaining twenty-two the sex could not be ascertained, and I had no doubt that they were young of that year's first brood, the flesh and quill-feathers being tender and soft.
Let us now make a rough calculation of the number that clung to the tree. The space beginning at the pile of feathers and moulded exuviæ, and ending at the entrance of the hole above, might be fully 25 feet in height, with a breadth of 15 feet, supposing the tree to be 5 feet in diameter at an average. There would thus be 375 feet square of surface. Each square foot, allowing a bird to cover a space of 3 inches by 1½, which is more than enough, judging from the manner in which they were packed, would contain 32 birds. The number of Swallows, therefore, that roosted in this single tree was 9000.
I watched the motions of the Swallows, and when the young birds that had been reared in the chimneys of Louisville, Jeffersonville, and the houses of the neighbourhood, or the trees suited for the purpose, had left their native recesses, I visited the tree on the 2d day of August. I concluded that the numbers resorting to it had not increased; but I found many more females and young than males, among upwards of fifty, which were caught and opened. Day after day I watched the tree. On the 13th of August, not more than two or three hundred came there to roost. On the 18th of the same month, not one did I see near it, and only a few scattered individuals were passing, as if moving southward. In September I entered the tree at night, but not a bird was in it. Once more I went to it in February, when the weather was very cold; and perfectly satisfied that all these Swallows had left our country, I finally closed the entrance, and left off visiting it.
May arrived, bringing with its vernal warmth the wanderers of the air, and I saw their number daily augmenting, as they resorted to the tree to roost. About the beginning of June, I took it in my head to close the aperture above, with a bundle of straw, which with a string I could draw off whenever I might chuse. The result was curious enough; the birds as usual came to the tree towards night; they assembled, passed and repassed, with apparent discomfort, until I perceived many flying off to a great distance, on which I removed the straw, when many entered the hole, and continued to do so until I could no longer see them from the ground.
I left Louisville, having removed my residence to Henderson, and did not see the tree until five years after, when I still found the Swallows resorting to it. The pieces of wood with which I had closed the entrance had rotted, or had been carried off, and the hole was again completely filled with exuviæ and mould. During a severe storm, their ancient tenement at length gave way, and came to the ground.
General WILLIAM CLARK assured me that he saw this species on the whole of his route to the Pacific, and there can be no doubt that in those wilds it still breeds in trees or rocky caverns.
Its food consists entirely of insects, the pellets composed of the indigestible parts of which it disgorges. It is, furnished with glands which supply the unctuous matter with which it fastens its nest.
This species does not appear to extend its migrations farther east than the British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. It is unknown in Newfoundland and Labrador; nor was it until the 29th of May that I saw some at Eastport in Maine, where a few breed.
HIRUNDO PELASGIA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 345.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 581.
CYPSELUS PELASGIUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 63.
CHIMNEY SWALLOW, HIRUNDO PELASGIA, Wils. Amer. Ornith, vol. v. p. 48. pl. 39. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 609.
Adult Male. Plate CLVIII. Fig. 1.
Bill extremely short, very broad at the base, with a very wide rictus, compressed towards the tip; upper mandible bent towards the end, the sides convex, the sharp edges inflected and having an indistinct sinus near the tip; lower mandible nearly straight; gap line slightly arched. Nostrils basal, approximate, oblong. Head large and depressed, neck short, body slender. Feet extremely short and weak; tarsus rounded, destitute of scutella; toes extremely short, the three anterior nearly equal, each with only two joints, hind toe puny, with a much smaller claw; claws strong, shortish, compressed, arched, very acute.
Plumage short, compact, rather blended, slightly glossed; wings extremely elongated, falciform, quills narrow with excessively strong shafts, the first longest. Tail of ten feathers, very short, slightly rounded, the shaft of extraordinary strength, and projecting beyond the webs in the form of a stiff prickle.
Bill black. Iris black. Feet dusky, with black claws. The general colour is brownish-black, lighter on the rump, and with slight greenish reflections on the head and back; the throat greyish-white, gradually shaded into the greyish-brown colour of the under parts, which have a peculiar grey and greenish lustre; the space from the eye to the bill black; a greyish-white line over the eye.
Length 4¾ inches, extent of wings 12; bill along the back 2/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 5/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLVIII. Fig. 2.
The Female is similar to the male.
Two views of the nest are also given in the plate.
THE CARDINAL GROSBEAK.
FRINGILLA CARDINALIS, BONAP.
PLATE CLIX. MALE AND FEMALE.
In richness of plumage, elegance of motion, and strength of song, this species surpasses all its kindred in the United States. It is known by the names of Red Bird, Virginia Nightingale, Cardinal Bird, and that at the head of the present article. It is very abundant in all our Southern States, as well as in the peninsula of the Floridas. In the western country a great number are found as far up on the Ohio as the city of Cincinnati, and they extend to considerable distances into Indiana, Illinois and Missouri. They are found in the maritime districts of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, where they breed, and where a few remain the whole year; some are also seen in the State of New York, and now and then a straggler proceeds into Massachusetts; but farther eastward this species has never been observed.
This fine songster relishes the interior of the forest, and the heart of the deepest cane-brakes or retired swamps, as well as the neighbourhood of cities. It is constantly found in our fields, orchards and gardens; nay, it often enters the very streets of our southern towns and villages to breed; and it is rare that one goes into a planter's yard without observing the Red Bird skipping about the trees or on the turf beneath them. Go where it may, it is always welcome, and every where a favourite, so rich is its song, and so brilliant its plumage.
The Cardinal Bird breeds in the Floridas. In the beginning of March I found them already paired in that country, and on the 8th of February near General HERNANDEZ'S. In the neighbourhood of Charleston, as well as in Louisiana, they are nearly a month later, and much the same lapse of time takes place again before they form a nest in the State of New Jersey or in that of Kentucky.
The nest is placed, apparently without much consideration, in some low briar, bush, or tree, often near the fence, the middle of a field, or the interior of a thicket, not far from a cooling stream, to which they are fond of resorting, for the purpose of drinking and bathing. Sometimes you find it placed close to the planter's house or in his garden, a few yards from that of the Mocking Bird or the Thrasher. It is composed of dry leaves and twigs, together with a large proportion of dry grass and slips of grape-vines, and is finished within with bent-grass, wrought in a circular form. The eggs are from four to six, of a dull white colour, marked all over with touches of olive-brown.
In the Southern Districts they now and then raise three broods in the season, but in the Middle States seldom more than one. The young on leaving the nest, frequently follow their parents on the ground for several days, after which they disperse and seek for food apart. During the pairing season, the males are so pugnacious, that although they breed near birds of other species, they never allow one of their own to nestle in their vicinity. One male may be seen following another from bush to bush, emitting a shrill note of anger, and diving towards the fugitive antagonist whenever an opportunity offers, until the latter has escaped quite beyond his jurisdiction, when the conqueror, elated, returns to his grounds, ascends his favourite tree, and pours out his song in full exultation.
Those which migrate to the eastward begin to move about the commencement of March, usually in the company of the Towhe Bunting and other Sparrows, hopping and passing from bush to bush during the whole day, announcing to the traveller and husbandman the approach of a more genial season, and resting at night in the secluded swamps. The males precede the females about ten days.
Towards autumn they frequently ascend to the tops of tall trees in search of grapes and berries, being as fond of succulent or pulpy fruits as they are of the seeds of corn and grasses. On the least appearance of danger they at once glide into the interior of the nearest thickets. During the summer heats they frequently resort to sandy roads to dust themselves, carelessly suffering people to approach them until within a few yards, when they only remove to the nearest bushes, until the intruders pass.
They are easily raised when taken from the nest, and breed when kept in aviaries. My friend Dr SAMUEL WILSON of Charleston, has had them breeding with him, having placed straw-baskets for the purpose, in which the female deposited her eggs, without improving the nest any more than by placing in it a few grass blades, perhaps pilfered from some of her neighbours. The purity of its colouring is soon lost when it is kept in confinement, where it is gentle, easily fed on corn or hemp-seed, and it sings when placed in a cage for several months in the year.
During winter the Cardinal Grosbeak frequently shews itself in the farm-yard, among Turtle-Doves, Jays, Mocking-Birds, and various species of Sparrows, picking up its food from the store daily supplied to the poultry. It now and then seeks refuge at night in the lee of some hay-stack, or throws itself with many other birds among the thickest branches of the nearest evergreen tree.
The flight of this species is strong and rapid, although seldom continued to any great distance. It is performed by glidings and jerks of the tail. When the bird is alighted it also frequently juts its tail with grace. Like all birds of the genus it hops, but does not walk.
Its song is at first loud and clear, resembling the finest sounds produced by the flageolet, and gradually descends into more marked and continued cadences, until it dies away in the air around. During the love-season the song is emitted with increased emphasis by this proud musician, who, as if aware of his powers, swells his throat, spreads his rosy tail, droops his wings, and leans alternately to the right and left, as if on the eve of expiring with delight at the delicious sounds of his own voice. Again and again are those melodies repeated, the bird resting only at intervals to breathe. They may be heard from long before the sun gilds the eastern horizon, to the period when the blazing orb pours down its noonday floods of heat and light, driving the birds to the coverts to seek repose for a while. Nature again invigorated, the musician recommences his song, when, as if he had never strained his throat before, he makes the whole neighbourhood resound, nor ceases until the shades of evening close around him. Day after day the song of the Red Bird beguiles the weariness of his mate as she assiduously warms her eggs; and at times she also assists with the modesty of her gentler sex. Few individuals of our own race refuse their homage of admiration to the sweet songster. How pleasing is it, when, by a clouded sky, the woods are rendered so dark, that were it not for an occasional glimpse of clearer light falling between the trees, you might imagine night at hand, while you are yet far distant from your home—how pleasing to have your ear suddenly saluted by the well known notes of this favourite bird, assuring you of peace around, and of the full hour that still remains for you to pursue your walk in security! How often have I enjoyed this pleasure, and how often, in due humbleness of hope, do I trust that I may enjoy it again!
I have represented a pair of these beautiful birds on a branch of the Wild Olive.
FRINGILLA CARDINALIS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 113.
CARDINAL GROSBEAK, LOXIA CARDINALIS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 38. pl. 2. fig. 1. Male; fig. 2. Female.—Nuttall, Manual, p. 519.
Adult Male. Plate CLIX. Fig. 1.
Bill short, very robust, conical, acute, deeper than broad at the base; upper mandible with its dorsal outline a little convex, the sides rounded, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip slightly declinate; lower mandible broader than the upper, with its dorsal line straight, the back broad, the sides rounded, the edges inflected; the gap-line deflected at the base. Nostrils basal, roundish, concealed by the feathers. Head large, neck short, body robust. Legs of moderate length, rather strong; tarsus compressed, anteriorly covered with a few scutella, posteriorly sharp; toes scutellate above, free, the lateral ones nearly equal; claws slender, arched, compressed, acute, that of the hind toe considerably larger.
Plumage soft and blended, slightly glossed. Wings of moderate length, broad, much rounded, the fourth quill longest; primaries rather broad, rounded, from the second to the sixth slightly cut out on the outer web, secondaries rather narrow and rounded. Tail long, straight, rounded. Feathers of the crown long, pointed, and erectile.
Bill of a tint approaching to coral-red. Iris dark hazel. Feet pale umber. The whole upper parts of a deep dusky-red, excepting the head which is vermillion. The anterior part of the forehead, the lores, and the upper anterior part of the neck, black. The under parts are vermillion, which is brightest anteriorly. Inner webs of the quills light brown, their shafts and those of the tail-feathers blackish-brown.
Length 8¼ inches, extent of wings 11½; bill along the back 7/12, along the edge ¾; tarsus 1½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLIX. Fig. 2.
The female has a crest as well as the male, which it resembles in the texture of its plumage, but the tail is proportionally shorter. The general colour of the upper parts is dull greyish-brown slightly tinged with olive; the longer crest-feathers are streaked with dull red, the wings, coverts, and outer edges of the quills, are of the same tint; the edge of the wings and the lower coverts are pale vermillion, and the inner edges of the quills are of the same tint, but paler. The parts surrounding the base of the bill, which are black in the male, are blackish-grey, and the lower parts in general are pale greyish-brown.
Length 7½ inches.
THE WILD ALMOND.
PRUNUS CAROLINIANA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 987. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 330.—ICOSANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. ROSACEÆ, Juss.
Flowers in racemes; leaves evergreen, oblong-lanceolate, mucronate, serrate, without glands at the base. The Wild Almond is altogether a southern tree. Its height now and then is as much as twenty-five feet, the stem in that case being a foot or more in diameter. The usual rounded form of its top, and the persistence of its foliage, together with its white flowers, and dark coloured fruits, render it a very agreeable object. Many are planted around the plantation grounds or the gardens of our southern cities, on account of their beautiful appearance. The fruits are greedily devoured by many species of birds, but are unpalatable to man. I have not observed it to the east of Virginia, nor farther west than the town of Memphis on the Mississippi. The wood is seldom applied to any useful purpose.
THE CAROLINA TITMOUSE.
PARUS CAROLINENSIS.
PLATE CLX. MALE AND FEMALE.
It was not until some time after my drawing of this small southern species of Titmouse had been engraved and distributed among my patrons, that I discovered the difference as to size and habits between it and the one which inhabits the Middle and Northern States, and which has been so well described by WILSON, NUTTALL and SWAINSON. Indeed, I never was struck with the difference of size until I reached Eastport in the State of Maine, early in May 1833, when one morning my friend Lieutenant GREEN of the United States army entered my room and shewed me a Titmouse which he had just procured. The large size of his bird, compared with those met with in the south, instantly struck me.
On my return from Labrador, I immediately proceeded to Charleston in South Carolina, with a view of once more visiting the western portions of the Floridas and the whole coast of the Gulf of Mexico. In the course of conversation with my friend, the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN, I mentioned my ideas on the subject of Titmice, when he immediately told me that he had for some time been of the same mind. We both went to the woods, and procured some specimens. I wrote to several persons of my acquaintance in Massachusetts, Maine, and Maryland, and before a month had elapsed, I received an abundant supply of the Northern species, preserved in spirits, from my friend JOHN BETHUNE of Boston, Lieutenant GREEN, and Colonel THEODORE ANDERSON of Baltimore. We examined and compared many individuals of both species, and satisfied ourselves that they were indeed specifically distinct.
The new species, the Carolina Titmouse, is a constant inhabitant of the Southern States, in which I have traced it from the lower parts of Louisiana through the Floridas as far as the borders of the Roanoke River, which separates North Carolina from Virginia, when it altogether disappeared. In these countries it is found only in the immediate vicinity of ponds and deep marshy and moist swamps, rarely during winter in greater numbers than one pair together, and frequently singly. The parent birds separate from the young probably soon after the latter are able to provide for themselves. The other species moves in flocks during the whole winter, frequenting the orchards, the gardens, or the hedges and trees along the roads, entering the villages, and coming to the woodpiles of the farmers. The southern species is never met with in such places at any time of the year, and is at all seasons a shyer bird, and more difficult to be obtained. Its notes are also less sonorous, and less frequent, than those of the Titmouse found in the Middle and Northern Districts.
My friend JOHN BACHMAN is of opinion that the smaller species particularly retires from South Carolina during winter, in consequence of the small number met with there at that season. On referring to my journals, written in the Floridas, in the winter of 1831-32, I find that they are mentioned as being much more abundant than in the Carolinas, and as breeding in the swamps as early as the middle of February.
The Carolina Titmouse breeds in the holes abandoned by the Brown-headed Nuthatch; but I have not yet examined either its eggs or its nest, having at first carelessly supposed the bird to be identical with the northern species, as my predecessors had done.
My drawing of the Carolina Titmouse was made not far from New Orleans late in 1820. I have named it so, partly because it occurs in Carolina, and partly because I was desirous of manifesting my gratitude towards the citizens of that State, who by their hospitality and polite attention have so much contributed to my comfort and happiness, whenever it has been my good fortune to be among them.
PARUS CAROLINENSIS.
Adult Male. Plate CLX. Fig. 1.
Bill very short, straight, strong, compressed, rather obtuse; both mandibles with the dorsal outline slightly convex, the sides convex, the edges sharp. Nostrils basal, roundish, concealed by the recumbent feathers. Head large, neck short, body rather robust. Feet of ordinary length, rather robust; tarsus compressed, anteriorly scutellate; toes large, the three anterior united as far as the second joint, the hind one much stronger; claws rather large, compressed, arched, acute.
Plumage blended, tufty; feathers of the head glossy. Wings of moderate length, the third and fourth quills longest and equal, fifth little shorter, second longer than sixth, first and seventh about equal. Tail long, slender, slightly incurved, rounded, of twelve narrow, rounded feathers.
Bill black. Iris dark brown. Feet bluish-grey. The whole upper part of the head and the hind neck pure black, as is a large patch on the throat and fore neck. Between these patches of black, there is a band of greyish-white, from the base of the bill down the side of the neck, becoming broader and greyer behind. Back and wing-coverts ash-grey, tinged with brown. Quills brown, margined with greyish-blue, as is the tail, which is more tinged with grey. Lower parts greyish-white tinged with brown, the sides more deeply tinted.
Length 4¼ inches, extent of wings 6; bill along the ridge 3/12, along the edge 5/12; tarsus 6½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLX. Fig. 2.
The female is similar to the male, but somewhat fainter in its tints.
This species is closely allied to the Parus palustris of Europe, which, however, has the black of the head tinged with brown, and that of the throat not nearly so extensive or decided, and has the lower parts still more tinged with yellowish-brown. It is also closely allied to the Parus atricapillus of WILSON, of which a description is subjoined.
THE BLACK-CAP TITMOUSE.
PARUS ATRICAPILLUS, Wils.
Proportions and plumage as in Parus carolinensis.
Bill brownish-black. Iris dark brown. Feet bluish-grey. The whole upper part of the head and the hind neck pure black, as is a large patch on the throat and fore neck. Between these patches of black is a band of white, from the base of the bill down the sides of the neck, becoming broader behind and encroaching on the back, which, with the wing-coverts, is ash-grey tinged with brown. Quills brown, margined with bluish-white, the secondary quills so broadly margined as to leave a conspicuous white dash on the wing; tail of the same colour, similarly edged. Lower parts brownish-white.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 8; bill along the ridge 5/12, along the edge 7½/12; tarsus 7/12.
The two species are almost precisely similar in most respects; but Parus carolinensis is much smaller than P. atricapillus, the former being 4½ inches long, while the latter is 5½, a great difference in birds of so small a size. The differences in the other parts are proportional. The grey of the back is purer in the smaller species, and the white of the neck more so in the larger, in which also the white edgings of the wings are very conspicuous.
THE SUPPLE JACK.
The Supple Jack is a species of Smilax extremely abundant in all the swampy portions of the Southern States. Its slender stem entwines the trunk and branches of even the tallest trees, and, with its delicate branches, is extremely tough and pliant, one of half an inch in diameter being strong enough to suspend a body having a weight of several hundred pounds. It is frequently used instead of a cord to hang clothes upon to dry. The festoons which it forms are graceful and pleasing to the eye.
THE FLORIDA KEYS.
I left you abruptly, perhaps uncivilly, reader, at the dawn of day, on Sandy Island, which lies just six miles from the extreme point of South Florida. I did so because I was amazed at the appearance of things around me, which in fact looked so different then from what they seemed at night, that it took some minutes' reflection to account for the change. When we laid ourselves down in the sand to sleep, the waters almost bathed our feet; when we opened our eyes in the morning, they were at an immense distance. Our boat lay on her side, looking not unlike a whale reposing on a mud-bank. The birds in myriads were probing their exposed pasture-ground. There great flocks of Ibises fed apart from equally large collections of Godwits, and thousands of Herons gracefully paced along, ever and anon thrusting their javelin bills into the body of some unfortunate fish confined in a small pool of water. Of Fish-Crows I could not estimate the number, but from the havoc they made among the crabs, I conjecture that these animals must have been scarce by the time of next ebb. Frigate Pelicans chased the Jager, which himself had just robbed a poor Gull of its prize, and all the Gallinules ran with spread wings from the mud-banks to the thickets of the island, so timorous had they become when they perceived us.
Surrounded as we were by so many objects that allured us, not one could we yet attain, so dangerous would it have been to venture on the mud; and our pilot having assured us that nothing could be lost by waiting, spoke of our eating, and on this hint told us that he would take us to a part of the island where "our breakfast would be abundant although uncooked." Off we went, some of the sailors carrying baskets, others large tin pans and wooden vessels, such as they use for eating their meals in. Entering a thicket of about an acre in extent, we found on every bush several nests of the Ibis, each containing three large and beautiful eggs, and all hands fell to gathering. The birds gave way to us, and ere long we had a heap of eggs that promised delicious food. Nor did we stand long in expectation, for, kindling a fire, we soon prepared, in one way or other, enough to satisfy the cravings of our hungry maws. Breakfast ended, the pilot looking at the gorgeous sunrise, said, "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves for fun, the tide is acoming."
Over these enormous mud-flats, a foot or two of water is quite sufficient to drive all the birds ashore, even the tallest Heron or Flamingo, and the tide seems to flow at once over the whole expanse. Each of us provided with a gun, posted himself behind a bush, and no sooner had the water forced the winged creatures to approach the shore, than the work of destruction commenced. When it at length ceased, the collected mass of birds of different kinds looked not unlike a small haycock. Who could not with a little industry have helped himself to a few of their skins? Why, reader, surely no one as fond of these things as I am. Every one assisted in this, and even the sailors themselves tried their hand at the work.
Our pilot, good man, told us he was no hand at such occupations, and would go after something else. So taking Long Tom and his fishing-tackle, he marched off quietly along the shores. About an hour afterwards we saw him returning, when he looked quite exhausted, and on our inquiring the cause said, "There is a dew-fish yonder and a few balacoudas, but I am not able to bring them, or even to haul them here; please send the sailors after them." The fishes were accordingly brought, and as I had never seen a dew-fish, I examined it closely, and took an outline of its form, which some days hence you may perhaps see. It exceeded a hundred pounds in weight, and afforded excellent eating. The balacouda is also a good fish, but at times a dangerous one, for, according to the pilot, on more than one occasion "some of these gentry" had followed him when waist-deep in the water, in pursuit of a more valuable prize, until in self-defence he had to spear them, fearing that "the gentlemen" might at one dart cut off his legs, or some other nice bit, with which he was unwilling to part.
Having filled our cask from a fine well long since dug in the sand of Cape Sable, either by Seminole Indians or pirates, no matter which, we left Sandy Isle about full tide, and proceeded homewards, giving a call here and there at different keys, with the view of procuring rare birds, and also their nests and eggs. We had twenty miles to go "as the birds fly," but the tortuosity of the channels rendered our course fully a third longer. The sun was descending fast, when a black cloud suddenly obscured the majestic orb. Our sails swelled by a breeze, that was scarcely felt by us, and the pilot, requesting us to sit on the weather gunwale, told us that we were "going to get it." One sail was hauled in and secured, and the other was reefed although the wind had not increased. A low murmuring noise was heard, and across the cloud that now rolled along in tumultuous masses, shot vivid flashes of lightning. Our experienced guide steered directly across a flat towards the nearest land. The sailors passed their quids from one cheek to the other, and our pilot having covered himself with his oil-jacket, we followed his example. "Blow, sweet breeze," cried he at the tiller, and "we'll reach land before the blast overtakes us, for, gentlemen, it is a furious cloud yon."
A furious cloud indeed was the one which now, like an eagle on outstretched wings, approached so swiftly, that one might have deemed it in haste to destroy us. We were not more than a cable's length from the shore, when, with imperative voice, the pilot calmly said to us, "Sit quite still, Gentlemen, for I should not like to lose you overboard just now; the boat can't upset, my word for that, if you will but sit still—here we have it!"
Reader, persons who have never witnessed a hurricane, such as not unfrequently desolates the sultry climates of the south, can scarcely form an idea of their terrific grandeur. One would think that, not content with laying waste all on land, it must needs sweep the waters of the shallows quite dry, to quench its thirst. No respite for an instant does it afford to the objects within the reach of its furious current. Like the scythe of the destroying angel, it cuts every thing by the roots, as it were with the careless ease of the experienced mower. Each of its revolving sweeps collects a heap that might be likened to the full sheaf which the husbandman flings by his side. On it goes with a wildness and fury that are indescribable; and when at last its frightful blasts have ceased, Nature, weeping and disconsolate, is left bereaved of her beauteous offspring. In some instances, even a full century is required, before, with all her powerful energies, she can repair her loss. The planter has not only lost his mansion, his crops, and his flocks, but he has to clear his lands anew, covered and entangled as they are with the trunks and branches of trees that are every where strewn. The bark overtaken by the storm, is cast on the lee-shore, and if any are left to witness the fatal results, they are the "wreckers" alone, who, with inward delight, gaze upon the melancholy spectacle.
Our light bark shivered like a leaf the instant the blast reached her sides. We thought she had gone over; but the next instant she was on the shore. And now in contemplation of the sublime and awful storm, I gazed around me. The waters drifted like snow; the tough mangroves hid their tops amid their roots, and the loud roaring of the waves driven among them blended with the howl of the tempest. It was not rain that fell; the masses of water flew in a horizontal direction, and where a part of my body was exposed, I felt as if a smart blow had been given me on it. But enough!—in half an hour it was over. The pure blue sky once more embellished the heavens, and although it was now quite night, we considered our situation a good one.
The crew and some of the party spent the night in the boat. The pilot, myself, and one of my assistants took to the heart of the mangroves, and having found high land, we made a fire as well as we could, spread a tarpauling, and fixing our insect bars over us, soon forgot in sleep the horrors that had surrounded us.
Next day, the Marion proceeded on her cruize, and in a few more days, having anchored in another safe harbour, we visited other Keys, of which I will, with your leave, give you a short account.
The Deputy-Collector of Indian Isle gave me the use of his pilot for a few weeks, and I was the more gratified by this, that besides knowing him to be a good man and a perfect sailor, I was now convinced that he possessed a great knowledge of the habits of birds, and could without loss of time lead me to their haunts. We were a hundred miles or so farther to the south. Gay May like a playful babe gambolled on the bosom of his mother nature, and every thing was replete with life and joy. The pilot had spoken to me of some birds, which I was very desirous of obtaining. One morning, therefore, we went in two boats to some distant isle, where they were said to breed. Our difficulties in reaching that Key might to some seem more imaginary than real, were I faithfully to describe them. Suffice it for me to tell you that after hauling our boats and pushing them with our hands, for upwards of nine miles, over the flats, we at last reached the deep channel that usually surrounds each of the mangrove islands. We were much exhausted by the labour and excessive heat, but we were now floating on deep water, and by resting a short while under the shade of some mangroves, we were soon refreshed by the breeze that gently blew from the Gulf. We further repaired our strength by taking some food; and I may as well tell you here, that during all the time I spent in that portion of the Floridas, my party restricted themselves to fish and soaked biscuit, while our only and constant beverage was water and mollasses. I found that in these warm latitudes, exposed as we constantly were to alternate heat and moisture, ardent spirits and more substantial food would prove dangerous to us. The officers, and those persons who from time to time kindly accompanied us, adopted the same regimen, and not an individual of us had ever to complain of so much as a headache.
But we were under the mangroves—at a great distance on one of the flats, the Heron which I have named Ardea occidentalis was seen moving majestically in great numbers. The tide rose and drove them away, and as they came towards us, to alight and rest for a time on the tallest trees, we shot as many as I wished. I also took under my charge several of their young alive.
At another time we visited the "Mule Keys." There the prospect was in many respects dismal in the extreme. As I followed their shores, I saw bales of cotton floating in all the coves, while spars of every description lay on the beach, and far off on the reefs I could see the last remains of a lost ship, her dismantled hulk. Several schooners were around her; they were wreckers. I turned me from the sight with a heavy heart. Indeed, as I slowly proceeded, I dreaded to meet the floating or cast ashore bodies of some of the unfortunate crew. Our visit to the Mule Keys was in no way profitable, for besides meeting with but a few birds in two or three instances, I was, whilst swimming in the deep channel of a mangrove isle, much nearer a large shark than I wish ever to be again.
"The service" requiring all the attention, prudence and activity of Captain DAY and his gallant officers, another cruize took place, of which you will find some account in the sequel; and while I rest a little on the deck of the Lady of the Green Mantle, let me offer my humble thanks to the Being who has allowed me the pleasure of thus relating to you, kind reader, a small part of my adventures.
THE CARACARA EAGLE.
POLYBORUS VULGARIS, VIEILL.
PLATE CLXI. ADULT.
I was not aware of the existence of the Caracara or Brazilian Eagle in the United States, until my visit to the Floridas in the winter of 1831. On the 24th November of that year, in the course of an excursion near the town of St Augustine, I observed a bird flying at a great elevation, and almost over my head. Convinced that it was unknown to me, and bent on obtaining it, I followed it nearly a mile, when I saw it sail towards the earth, making for a place where a group of Vultures were engaged in devouring a dead horse. Walking up to the horse, I observed the new bird alighted on it, and helping itself freely to the savoury meat beneath its feet; but it evinced a degree of shyness far greater than that of its associates, the Turkey Buzzards and Carrion Crows. I moved circuitously, until I came to a deep ditch, along which I crawled, and went as near to the bird as I possibly could; but finding the distance much too great for a sure shot, I got up suddenly, when the whole of the birds took to flight. The eagle, as if desirous of forming acquaintance with me, took a round and passed over me. I shot, but to my great mortification missed it. However it alighted a few hundred yards off, in an open savanna, on which I laid myself flat on the ground, and crawled towards it, pushing my gun before me, amid burs and mud-holes, until I reached the distance of about seventy-five yards from it, when I stopped to observe its attitudes. The bird did not notice me; he stood on a lump of flesh, tearing it to pieces, in the manner of a Vulture, until he had nearly swallowed the whole. Being now less occupied, he spied me, erected the feathers of his neck, and, starting up, flew away, carrying the remainder of his prey in his talons. I shot a second time, and probably touched him; for he dropped his burden, and made off in a direct course across the St Sebastian River, with alternate sailings and flappings, somewhat in the manner of a Vulture, but more gracefully. He never uttered a cry, and I followed him wistfully with my eyes until he was quite out of sight.
The following day the bird returned, and was again among the Vultures, but at some distance from the carcass, the birds having been kept off by the dogs. I approached by the ditch, saw it very well, and watched its movements, until it arose, when once more I shot, but without effect. It sailed off in large circles, gliding in a very elegant manner, and now and then diving downwards and rising again.
Two days elapsed before it returned. Being apprised by a friend of this desired event, instead of going after it myself, I dispatched my assistant, who returned with it in little more than half an hour. I immediately began my drawing of it. The weather was sultry, the thermometer being at 89°; and, to my surprise, the vivid tints of the plumage were fading much faster than I had ever seen them in like circumstances, insomuch that Dr BELL of Dublin, who saw it when fresh, and also when I was finishing the drawing twenty-four hours after, said he could scarcely believe it to be the same bird. How often have I thought of the changes which I have seen effected in the colours of the bill, legs, eyes, and even the plumage of birds, when looking on imitations which I was aware were taken from stuffed specimens, and which I well knew could not be accurate! The skin, when the bird was quite recent, was of a bright yellow. The bird was extremely lousy. Its stomach contained the remains of a bullfrog, numerous hard-shelled worms, and a quantity of horse and deer-hair. The skin was saved with great difficulty, and its plumage had entirely lost its original lightness of colouring. The deep red of the fleshy parts of the head had assumed a purplish livid hue, and the spoil scarcely resembled the coat of the living Eagle.
I made a double drawing of this individual, for the purpose of shewing all its feathers, which I hope will be found to be accurately represented.
Since the period when I obtained the specimen above mentioned, I have seen several others, in which no remarkable differences were observed between the sexes, or in the general colouring. My friend Dr BENJAMIN STROBEL, of Charleston, South Carolina, who has resided on the west coast of Florida, procured several individuals for the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN, and informed me that the species undoubtedly breeds in that part of the country, but I have never seen its nest. It has never been seen on any of the Keys along the eastern coast of that peninsula; and I am not aware that it has been observed any where to the eastward of the Capes of Florida.
The most remarkable difference with respect to habits, between these birds and the American Vultures, is the power which they possess of carrying their prey in their talons. They often walk about, and in the water, in search of food, and now and then will seize on a frog or a very young alligator with their claws, and drag it to the shore. Like the Vultures, they frequently spread their wings towards the sun, or in the breeze, and their mode of walking also resembles that of the Turkey Buzzard.
POLYBORUS VULGARIS, Vieillot, Galerie des Ois. pl. vii.
FALCO BRASILIENSIS, Gmel. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 262.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 21.
CARACARA, Raii, Synops. p. 17.—CARACARA ORDINAIRE, Cuv. Regne Animal, vol. i. p. 328.
BRAZILIAN KITE, Lath. Synops. vol. i. p. 63.
Adult Male. Plate CLXI. Two figures.
Bill rather long, very deep, much compressed, cerate for one-half of its length; upper mandible with the dorsal outline nearly straight, but declinate for half its length, curved in the remaining part, the ridge narrow, the sides flat and sloping, the sharp edges slightly undulated, the tip declinate, trigonal; lower mandible with the sides nearly erect, the back rounded, the tip narrow, and obliquely rounded. Nostrils oblong, oblique, in the fore and upper parts of the cere. Head of moderate size, flattened; neck rather short, body rather slender. Feet rather long and slender; tarsus rounded, covered all round with hexagonal scales, the anterior much larger, and the five lower broad and transverse; toes of moderate size, scutellate above, the inner scaly at the base; the outer is connected with the middle-toe, at the base by a web, as is the inner, although its web is smaller; lateral toes equal, middle one considerably longer, hind-toe shortest, and not proportionally stronger; claws long, arched, roundish, tapering to a point.
Plumage compact, slightly glossed. Upper eye-lid with short strong bristles; space before the eye, cheeks, throat, and cere of both mandibles, bare, having merely a few scattered bristly feathers. Feathers of the head, neck, and breast narrow; of the back broad and rounded; outer tibial feathers elongated, but shorter than in most Hawks. Wings long, reaching to within two inches of the tip of the tail; primaries tapering, secondaries broad and rounded, with an acumen; the fourth quill longest, third scarcely shorter, first and seventh about equal; almost all the primaries are more or less sinuate on their inner webs, and the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth on their outer. Tail long, rounded, of twelve broadish, rounded feathers. There is a large bare space on the breast, as in the Turkey Buzzard.
Bill pale blue, yellow on the edges, cere carmine. Iris dark-brown. Feet yellow; claws black. Upper part of the head umber-brown, streaked with brownish-black. Feathers of hind-neck and fore part of the back light brownish-yellow, mottled with dark brown towards the end. Back and wings dark brown, edged with umber. Primaries and some of the secondaries barred with broad bands of white, excepting towards the end. Tail coverts dull-white, slightly barred with dusky. Tail greyish-white, with sixteen narrow bars, and a broad terminal band of blackish-brown, the tips lighter. Fore part and sides of the neck light brownish-yellow; the fore part of the breast marked like that of the back, the yellow colour extending over the lateral part of the neck; the hind part, abdomen, sides, and tibia dark brown; the lower tail-coverts yellowish-white. Interior of mouth and skin of the whole body bright yellow.
Length 23½ inches, extent of wings 4 feet; bill along the ridge 2¼, the cere being 1, along the edge 2¼; tarsus 3¼, middle-toe and claw 3¾.
THE ZENAIDA DOVE.
COLUMBA ZENAIDA, BONAP.
PLATE CLXII. MALE AND FEMALE.
The impressions made on the mind in youth, are frequently stronger than those at a more advanced period of life, and are generally retained. My Father often told me, that when yet a child, my first attempt at drawing was from a preserved specimen of a dove, and many times repeated to me that birds of this kind are usually remarkable for the gentleness of their disposition, and that the manner in which they prove their mutual affection, and feed their offspring, was undoubtedly intended in part to teach other beings a lesson of connubial and parental attachment. Be this as it may, hypothesis or not, I have always been especially fond of doves. The timidity and anxiety which they all manifest, on being disturbed during incubation, and the continuance of their mutual attachment for years, are distinguishing traits in their character. Who can approach a sitting dove, hear its notes of remonstrance, or feel the feeble strokes of its wings, without being sensible that he is committing a wrong act?
The cooing of the Zenaida Dove is so peculiar, that one who hears it for the first time naturally stops to ask, "What bird is that?" A man who was once a pirate assured me that several times, while at certain wells dug in the burning shelly sands of a well known Key, which must here be nameless, the soft and melancholy cry of the doves awoke in his breast feelings which had long slumbered, melted his heart to repentance, and caused him to linger at the spot in a state of mind which he only who compares the wretchedness of guilt within him with the happiness of former innocence, can truly feel. He said he never left the place without increased fears of futurity, associated as he was, although I believe by force, with a band of the most desperate villains that ever annoyed the navigation of the Florida coasts. So deeply moved was he by the notes of any bird, and especially by those of a dove, the only soothing sounds he ever heard during his life of horrors, that through these plaintive notes, and them alone, he was induced to escape from his vessel, abandon his turbulent companions, and return to a family deploring his absence. After paying a parting visit to those wells, and listening once more to the cooings of the Zenaida Dove, he poured out his soul in supplications for mercy, and once more became what one has said to be "the noblest work of God," an honest man. His escape was effected amidst difficulties and dangers, but no danger seemed to him to be compared with the danger of one living in the violation of human and divine laws, and now he lives in peace in the midst of his friends.
The Zenaida Dove is a transient visitor of the Keys of East Florida. Some of the fishermen think that it may be met with there at all seasons, but my observations induce me to assert the contrary. It appears in the islands near Indian Key about the 15th of April, continues to increase in numbers until the month of October, and then returns to the West India Islands, whence it originally came. They begin to lay their eggs about the first of May. The males reach the Keys on which they breed before the females, and are heard cooing as they ramble about in search of mates, more than a week before the latter make their appearance. In autumn, however, when they take their departure, males, females, and young set out in small parties together.
The flight of this bird resembles that of the little Ground Dove more than any other. It very seldom flies higher than the tops of the mangroves, or to any considerable distance at a time, after it has made choice of an island to breed on. Indeed, this species may be called a Ground Dove too; for, although it alights on trees with ease, and walks well on branches, it spends the greater portion of its time on the ground, walking and running in search of food with lightness and celerity, carrying its tail higher than even the Ground Dove, and invariably roosting there. The motions of its wings, although firm, produce none of the whistling sound, so distinctly heard in the flight of the Carolina Dove; nor does the male sail over the female while she is sitting on her eggs, as is the habit of that species. When crossing the sea, or going from one Key to another, they fly near the surface of the water; and, when unexpectedly startled from the ground, they remove to a short distance, and alight amongst the thickest grasses or in the heart of the low bushes. So gentle are they in general, that I have approached some so near that I could have touched them with my gun, while they stood intently gazing on me, as if I were an object not at all to be dreaded.
Those Keys which have their interior covered with grass and low shrubs, and are girt by a hedge of mangroves, or other trees of inferior height, are selected by them for breeding; and as there are but few of this description, their places of resort are well known, and are called Pigeon or "Dove Keys." It would be useless to search for them elsewhere. They are by no means so abundant as the White-headed Pigeons, which place their nest on any kind of tree, even on those whose roots are constantly submersed. Groups of such trees occur of considerable extent, and are called "Wet Keys."
The Zenaida Dove always places her nest on the ground, sometimes artlessly at the foot of a low bush, and so exposed that it is easily discovered by any one searching for it. Sometimes, however, it uses great discrimination, placing it between two or more tufts of grass, the tops of which it manages to bend over, so as completely to conceal it. The sand is slightly scooped out, and the nest is composed of slender dried blades of grass, matted in a circular form, and imbedded amid dry leaves and twigs. The fabric is more compact than the nest of any other pigeon with which I am acquainted, it being sufficiently solid to enable a person to carry the eggs or young in it with security. The eggs are two, pure white, and translucent. When sitting on them, or when her young are still small, this bird rarely removes from them, unless an attempt be made to catch her, which she however evades with great dexterity. On several occasions of this kind, I have thought that the next moment would render me the possessor of one of these doves alive. Her beautiful eye was steadily bent on mine, in which she must have discovered my intention, her body was gently made to retire sidewise to the farther edge of her nest, as my hand drew nearer to her, and just as I thought I had hold of her, off she glided with the quickness of thought, taking to wing at once. She would then alight within a few yards of me, and watch my motions with so much sorrow, that her wings drooped, and her whole frame trembled as if suffering from intense cold. Who could stand such a scene of despair? I left the mother to her eggs or offspring.
On one occasion, however, I found two young birds of this species about half grown, which I carried off, and afterwards took to Charleston, in South Carolina, and presented to my worthy friend the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN. When I robbed this nest, no parent bird was near. The little ones uttered the usual lisping notes of the tribe at this age, and as I put their bills in my mouth, I discovered that they might be easily raised. They were afterwards fed from the mouth with Indian corn meal, which they received with avidity, until placed under the care of a pair of common tame pigeons, which at once fostered them.
The cooing of this species so much resembles that of the Carolina Dove, that, were it not rather soft, and heard in a part of the world where the latter is never seen, you might easily take it for the notes of that bird. Morning is the time chosen by the Zenaida Dove to repeat her tender tales of love, which she does while perched on the low large branch of some tree, but never from the ground. Heard in the wildest solitudes of the Keys, these notes never fail to remind one that he is in the presence and under the protection of the Almighty Creator.
During mid-day, when the heat is almost insufferable in the central parts of the Keys resorted to by these birds, they are concealed and mute. The silence of such a place at noon is extremely awful. Not a breath of air is felt, nor an insect seen, and the scorching rays of the sun force every animated being to seek for shelter and repose.
From what I have said of the habits of the Zenaida Dove, you may easily conceive how difficult a task it is to procure one. I have had full experience of the difficulty, and entire satisfaction in surmounting it, for in less than an hour, with the assistance of Captain DAY, I shot nineteen individuals, the internal and external examination of which enabled me to understand something of their structure.
The flesh is excellent, and they are generally very fat. They feed on grass seeds, the leaves of aromatic plants, and various kinds of berries, not excepting those of a tree which is extremely poisonous,—so much so, that if the juice of it touch the skin of a man, it destroys it like aqua-fortis. Yet these berries do not injure the health of the birds, although they render their flesh bitter and unpalatable for a time. For this reason, the fishermen and wreckers are in the habit of examining the crops of the doves previous to cooking them. This, however, only takes place about the time of their departure from the Keys, in the beginning of October. They add particles of shell or gravel to their food.
From my own observations, and the report of others, I am inclined to believe that they raise only two broods each season. The young, when yet unfledged, are of a deep leaden or purplish-grey colour, the bill and legs black, nor is it until the return of spring that they attain their full plumage. The male is larger than the female, and richer in the colouring of its plumage. Their feathers fall off at the slightest touch, and like all other pigeons, when about to die, they quiver their wings with great force.
The branch on which I have represented these birds, belonged to a low shrub abundant in the Keys where they are found. The flower has a musty scent, and is of short duration.
This species resorts to certain wells, which are said to have been dug by pirates, at a remote period. There the Zenaida Doves and other birds are sure to be seen morning and evening. The loose sand thrown up about these wells suits them well to dust in, and clean their apparel.
COLUMBA ZENAIDA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 119, and Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. pl. 15. fig. 2. —Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 625.
Adult Male. Plate CLXII. Fig. 1.
Bill short, straight, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, a convex, declinate, obtuse tip, of which the margins are acute and overlapping; lower mandible, with the angle near the extremity, which is compressed and rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed; the general form rather full. Legs short and of moderate strength; tarsus short, covered anteriorly with four broad scutella at the upper part, and a double series below, rounded and hexagonally reticulated behind; toes scutellate above, free, margined; two lateral toes nearly equal, middle one not much longer, hind toe much smaller.
Plumage rather compact. Wings of moderate length, second and third quills longest, first and fourth equal. Tail rather short, much rounded.
Bill deep carmine-purple. Iris brown; bare space surrounding the eye light blue. Feet deep carmine-purple. The general colour of the plumage above is light yellowish-brown tinged with grey. Quills brownish-black, narrowly margined with white, seven of the secondaries broadly tipped with the same; the inner ones of the same colour as the back, but having a broad black spot on the inner web towards the end, which is also the case with the tertiaries; several of the coverts also have a black spot on the outer web. The four lateral tail-feathers on each side are greyish-blue, with a broad black bar towards the end, the extremity greyish-white, the four middle feathers of the colour of the back, with a faint dusky bar. The sides of the head and under parts are of a light brownish-red, paler on the throat, and passing into greyish-blue on the sides; under wing-coverts pale bluish-grey. There is a small spot of deep blue immediately behind the eye, and a larger one a little below on the side of the neck; and a band of splendent feathers extends over the back and sides of the neck, having bright purple and greenish reflections.
Length 11½ inches; extent of wings 18⅛; bill along the back 7/12, along the edges 11/12; tarsus 11/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXII. Fig. 2.
The female can scarcely be distinguished from the male, the colouring being but slightly fainter.
Length 10½ inches.
PURPLE-FLOWERED ANONA.
PORCELIA PARVIFLORA, Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 383.
This plant is very abundant on many of the outer Keys of the Floridas. It grows among other shrubs, seldom exceeding seven or eight feet in height, and more frequently not more than four or five. The leaves are obovate, rounded at the base, thick, glossy above, downy beneath. The outer petals are larger, and not unlike the divided shell of a hickory or pig nut; the inner ovate, deep purple, with a white band at the base. I did not see the fruit, which I was told is not unpalatable when ripe, it being then about the size of a common walnut, and of a black colour.
THE YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER.
SYLVIA PETECHIA, LATH.
PLATE CLXIII. ADULT AND YOUNG.
The Yellow Red-Poll Warbler, of which an old bird in summer and a young one fully fledged are represented in the plate, being abundant in East Florida, and especially in the neighbourhood of St Augustine, the most prosperous town on the eastern coast of that peninsula, I hope you will not think it irrelevant to say a few words respecting that place, to whose inhabitants I am indebted for many acts of kindness.
To reach St Augustine, the navigator has first to pass over a difficult sand-bar, which frequently changes its position; he then, however, finds a deep channel leading to a safe and commodious harbour. The appearance of the town is rather romantic, especially when the Spanish Fort, which is quite a monument of ancient architecture, opens to the view. The place itself is quite Spanish, the streets narrow, the church not very remarkable, and the market-place the resort of numerous idlers, whether resident or from other parts. It is supplied with, I believe, the best fish in America, the "sheep-head" and "mullet" being the finest I have ever seen; and its immediate neighbourhood produces as good oranges as can any where be found. The country around is certainly poor, and although in an almost tropical climate, is by no means productive. When the United States purchased the peninsula from the Spanish Government, the representations given of it by Mr BARTRAM and other poetical writers, were soon found greatly to exceed the reality. For this reason, many of the individuals who flocked to it, returned home or made their way towards other regions with a heavy heart; yet the climate during the winter months is the most delightful that could be imagined.
In the plate you will find a branch of the wild orange, with its flowers. I have already spoken of the tree at p. 260, to which I refer you. Whatever its original country may be supposed to be, the plant is to all appearance indigenous in many parts of Florida, not merely in the neighbourhood of plantations, but in the wildest portions of that wild country.
SYLVIA PETECHIA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 355.
SYLVIA PALMARUM, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 78.
Adult Male in summer. Plate CXLIII. Fig. 1.
In its full summer plumage this bird presents so different an appearance, that it has in that state been considered as a distinct species, and yet the difference is not greater than is observed in many other birds. When the plumage is new, with the tips of the feathers unworn, the lower parts shew less of the red streaks so conspicuous in the opposite case; the yellow is brighter, and the crown of the head is of a richer brownish-red colour. In other respects, however, the description already given at p. 261, corresponds with that which might be presented here.
Young Bird. Plate CLXIII. Fig. 2.
On the head of the young the red is not perceptible, that part being of nearly the same colour as the back.
THE TAWNY THRUSH.
TURDUS WILSONII, BONAP.
PLATE CLXIV. MALE.
The song of this northern species greatly resembles that of its relative, the ever-pleasing Wood-Thrush. While at Charleston, in March 1834, I heard a bird singing in the garden-ground of my learned and highly respected fellow-citizen Mr POINSETT, in the immediate neighbourhood of the city. I mentioned the circumstance to my friend JOHN BACHMAN, who expressed his surprise on account of the early period of the season. The next day, as we were both going out to the woods, we heard the same music again, when a short discussion ensued, and as neither of us could be positive whether it came from a Wood-Thrush or not, we shot the bird, which we instantly discovered to be of the species which has been honoured with the name of its illustrious discoverer. This was the more extraordinary, as that Thrush is very rarely seen in Carolina either in winter or in summer. It was indeed the first time my friend BACHMAN had ever heard its voice.
WILSON'S Thrush is never seen or heard in Louisiana during spring, and a few only pass through the lower portions of that State in autumn. I suppose its migration from the farther south is along the declivities of the range of the Alleghany Mountains, at least for some distance, and it probably takes place under night. It reaches the mountainous districts of Pennsylvania early in the month of May, but few if any breed there. In the upper parts of the State of New York, they become more plentiful, and there some undoubtedly spend the summer; but from Massachusetts eastward to Labrador, they become more and more abundant. On the 20th of July, while in the latter country, I saw the young of this species following their mother. They were there almost full grown, and could fly a hundred yards or so at a time. By the 12th of August none were seen, although during my stay they were as common as any other birds. In the latter part of the same month, I met with those which had bred at Newfoundland, on their return to the south, and followed them into Massachusetts.
At Labrador, as well as in the latter State, the Tawny Thrush retains its retired habits, and seeks refuge in the concealment of dark shady woods, near brooks or moist grounds. There, in a low bush, or on the ground beneath it, this bird builds its nest, which is large, composed externally of dry leaves, mosses, and the stalks of grasses, and lined with finer grasses, and delicate fibrous portions of different kinds of mosses, without any mud or clay. The eggs, which are deposited early in June, are from four to six, and resemble those of the Cat Bird in colour and shape, but are of smaller size. They raise only one brood in the season. The parents, ever extremely shy, shew no desire to assist their young, or defend their nest from intruders, but remain during your visit at some distance, uttering a mournful and angry quake, somewhat resembling that of the Cat Bird on such occasions. The Cow Bunting not unfrequently deposits its egg in the nest of this Thrush, where it is hatched, and the young brought up with all imaginable care. In the neighbourhood of the city of Boston, some of these birds, according to my learned friend NUTTALL, breed sometimes in the gardens, and he has known of a nest placed in a gooseberry bush. A full-fledged young one that was caught and placed in a cage, retained the unsocial and silent timidity peculiar to the species. The males are obstinate in their quarrels, and fight with great fierceness in maintaining their right to the ground which they have appropriated to themselves.
The song of this species, although resembling that of the Wood Thrush in a great degree, is less powerful, and is composed of continued trills repeated with different variations, enunciated with great delicacy and mellowness, so as to be extremely pleasing to one listening to them in the dark solitudes where the sylvan songster resides. It now and then tunes its throat in the calm of evening, and is heard sometimes until after the day has closed.
It searches for food even at those hours, and feeds principally on coleopterous insects. In Labrador it also picks the tender blossoms of several dwarf plants, and feeds on berries. Its time is, for the most part, spent on the ground, where it moves with singular agility by leaps, stopping instantaneously and standing erect for a few moments, as if apprehending danger, but immediately renewing its course.
We have in the Middle Districts another species of Thrush nearly allied to this, but differing considerably in the size and shape of its bill, and especially in its habits. Of this bird I shall give you an account on another occasion.
The specimen represented in the plate was procured and drawn in the State of Maine, and was in full plumage. The female can scarcely be distinguished from the male.
TURDUS WILSONII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 76.
MERULA WILSONII, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Boreali-Americ. vol. ii. p. 182.
TAWNY THRUSH, TURDUS MUSTELINUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 98. pl. 43. fig. 3.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. i. p. 349.
Adult Male. Plate CLXIV.
Bill rather short, nearly straight, compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the dorsal outline a little convex, the tip slightly declinate, the margins acute, inflected towards the end, slightly notched close upon the tip; lower mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, the tip rather obtuse. Head of ordinary size, neck and body rather slender. Feet rather long; tarsus longish, compressed, slender, anteriorly covered with a few elongated scutella, posteriorly sharp-edged, longer than the middle toe; toes scutellate above, lateral ones almost equal, the outer connected as far as the second joint.
Plumage soft, rather loose, slightly glossed. A few longish bristles at the base of the upper mandible. Wings of ordinary length, the third quill longest, the second and fourth little shorter, the first very short. Tail rather short, even, of twelve broad feathers.
Bill brownish-black above, flesh-coloured at the base of the lower mandible. Iris dark-brown. Feet pale flesh-colour. The general colour of the upper parts is uniform reddish-brown, slightly tinged with green, the upper tail-coverts and edge of the wing inclined to rufous. Cheeks and space before the eye pale greyish-brown, obscurely streaked with hair-brown; a faint line of the same colour over the eye. Wings and tail dark brown, margined with pale. The lower parts are white, the sides of the neck tinged with pale brownish-yellow, and with the lateral parts of the breast and the sides faintly marked with small triangular dusky spots.
Length 7-2/12 inches, extent of wings 12; bill along the ridge 7/12, along the edge 9/12; tarsus 1-3/12; middle-toe 11/12; weight 1⅛ oz.
The Female resembles the Male in external aspect.
HABENARIA LACERA, Brown, ORCHIS LACERA, Mich. Flor. Amer. vol. ii. p. 156. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 586. —GYNANDRIA MONANDRIA, Linn. ORCHIDEÆ, Juss.—Fig. 1. of the plate.
This beautiful Habenaria is characterized by having the lip of the corolla elongated and tripartite, with narrow segments, the spur filiform, and of the length of the ovarium, and the flowers alternate. The stem is about a foot in height, leafy; the lower leaves ovate, the upper gradually narrower; the large loose spike is composed of numerous pale pink flowers. It grows in moist meadows.
CORNUS CANADENSIS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. i. p. 661. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 107.—TETRANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.—Fig. 2. of the plate.
The plate represents the aggregated bright red globular berries, and ovate-acute leaves of this pretty little plant, which is abundant in shady woods and in mountainous situations in the Middle and Northern States, as well as in the British provinces.
BACHMAN'S FINCH.
FRINGILLA BACHMANII.
PLATE CLXV. MALE.
In honouring so humble an object as this Finch with the name of BACHMAN, my aim is to testify the high regard in which I hold that learned and most estimable individual, to whose friendship I owe more than I can express on this occasion.
"In the month of April 1832," says my worthy friend, the gentleman just named, "I discovered near Parker's Ferry, on the Edisto River, in this State, a Fringilla which I had not seen before, and which, on investigation, I found had never been described. On searching for the same bird in the neighbourhood of Charleston, I discovered it breeding in small numbers on the Pine Barrens, about six miles north of this city, where I obtained many specimens of it.
"This bird appears to be rarer in Carolina than it really is. It is in fact oftener heard than seen. When I first heard its notes, they so nearly resembled those of the Towhe Bunting, that I took it to be that bird: a somewhat greater softness, and a slight variation in the notes, alone induced me to suspect that it was another, and caused me to go in pursuit of it. Since then I have heard as many as five or six in the course of a morning's ride, but found it almost impossible to get even a sight of the bird. This was owing, not to its being particularly wild, but to the habits it possesses of darting from the tall pine-trees, where it usually sits to warble out its melodious notes, and concealing itself in the tall brome-grass which is almost invariably found in those places which it frequents. As soon as alighted, it keeps running off in the grass, like a mouse, and it is extremely difficult to put them up, or see them afterwards.
"It breeds in Carolina, to all appearance on the ground, where it is usually found when not singing. I never saw its nest; but in the month of June last (1833), I observed two pair of these birds, each having four young ones, that were pretty well fledged, and following their parents along the low scrub oaks of the pine lands.
"This is decidedly the finest songster of the Sparrow Family with which I am acquainted. Its notes are very loud, considering the size of the bird, and can be heard at a considerable distance in the pine woods, where it is found, and where it is the only songster at that season.
"In the beginning of November, this bird usually disappears, and I think it probably migrates farther south. Still it is likely that it does not go beyond the limits of the United States, and that some few remain in Carolina during the whole winter, as, on the 6th of February, the coldest time of the year, I found one of these birds in some long grass, a few miles from Charleston."
Since then, kind reader, I have had the pleasure, in the company of its amiable discoverer, to hear the melodious notes of this southern species. Our endeavours, however, to find its nest have been unsuccessful.
On my return from the Floridas to New York, in June 1832, I travelled through both the Carolinas, and observed many of these Finches on the sides of the roads cut through the pine woods of South Carolina. At this time, they filled the air with their melodies. I traced them as far as the boundary between that State and North Carolina, in which none were seen or heard. They were particularly abundant near the Great Santee River.
The food of this species consists of the seeds of grasses, coleopterous insects, and a variety of the small berries so abundant in that part of the country. Its flight is swift and direct, now and then protracted, so that the bird is out of sight before it alights.
I observed no difference in the size or colour of the sexes, and have represented a Male in full summer dress, which was presented to me, while yet quite fresh, by my friend BACHMAN.
The beautiful plant on which it is placed, was drawn by my friend's sister, who has kindly rendered me similar services, which will be pointed out on the proper occasions; and here let me again express my gratitude toward that amiable lady, and her esteemed brother.
FRINGILLA BACHMANII.
Adult Male. Plate CLXV. Fig. 1.
Bill short, conical, acute; upper mandible almost straight in its dorsal outline, rounded on the sides; lower mandible slightly convex beneath, the sides rounded; edges of both sharp and inflected; gap-line deflected at the base. Nostrils basal, roundish, partially concealed by the feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather full. Feet of moderate length, slender; tarsus covered anteriorly with a few longish scutella; toes free, scutellate above, the lateral ones nearly equal, hind-toe proportionally large; claws slender, compressed, acute, slightly arched, that of the hind-toe longer.
Plumage soft, blended, rather compact on the back, slightly glossed. Wings shortish, curved, third and fourth quills longest, fifth and second nearly equal; the secondaries long and rounded. Tail long, graduated, and deeply emarginate, of twelve straight, narrow feathers, tapering to a rounded point.
Bill dark brown above, light blue beneath. Iris hazel. Feet very light flesh-coloured. The general colour of the upper parts is reddish-brown, the central parts of the feathers on the back black, their margins bluish-grey. Secondary coverts dull yellowish-brown on the outer edge; quills dark brown, the first seven or eight slightly edged with pale ochre, the rest edged with light brown; flexure of the wing bright yellow; small coverts varied with brown and yellowish-grey. Tail-feathers brown, lighter on the outer edges. A streak from the upper mandible over the eye, as well as the margin of the eye, ochre-yellow. Throat pale yellowish-grey, with a short streak of blackish on each side, from the base of the mandible; fore part of the breast and sides tinged with brown; the rest of the lower parts yellowish-grey.
Length 6 inches, extent of wings 7½; bill along the ridge ½, along the sides ⅝; tarsus ⅞.
The Female is slightly smaller, but does not differ in colouring.
This species belongs to the same group as the Yellow-winged Sparrow, the Savannah Finch, the Lincoln Finch, and the Henslow Finch. At the same time, the form of the bill and tail indicates an affinity to the Sharp-tailed Finch, the Sea-side Finch, and MacGillivray's Finch, which are maritime birds, while the former do not betake themselves to the salt marshes. Both groups, however, have the tail-feathers more or less sharp.
PINCKNEYA PUBESCENS, Mich. Fl. Amer. vol. i. p. 105. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 158.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
This shrubby tree grows on the banks of rivers, and near swamps in Georgia; but the twig represented in the Plate was from a tree in the beautiful botanic garden of M. NOISETTE, a few miles from Charleston, in South Carolina. The leaves are oval, acute at both ends, somewhat downy beneath; the flowers are yellow, tinged with red; one of the divisions of the calyx enlarges to a whitish leaf, tinged with red, which renders the plant highly ornamental.
THE TURTLERS.
The Tortugas are a group of islands lying about eighty miles from Key West, and the last of those that seem to defend the peninsula of the Floridas. They consist of five or six extremely low uninhabitable banks formed of shelly sand, and are resorted to principally by that class of men called Wreckers and Turtlers. Between these islands are deep channels, which, although extremely intricate, are well known to those adventurers, as well as to the commanders of the revenue cutters, whose duties call them to that dangerous coast. The great coral reef or wall lies about eight miles from these inhospitable isles, in the direction of the Gulf, and on it many an ignorant or careless navigator has suffered shipwreck. The whole ground around them is densely covered with corals, sea-fans, and other productions of the deep, amid which crawl innumerable testaceous animals, while shoals of curious and beautiful fishes fill the limpid waters above them. Turtles of different species resort to these banks, to deposit their eggs in the burning sand, and clouds of sea-fowl arrive every spring for the same purpose. These are followed by persons called "Eggers," who, when their cargoes are completed, sail to distant markets, to exchange their ill-gotten ware for a portion of that gold, on the acquisition of which all men seem bent.
The "Marion" having occasion to visit the Tortugas, I gladly embraced the opportunity of seeing those celebrated islets. A few hours before sunset the joyful cry of "land" announced our approach to them, but as the breeze was fresh, and the pilot was well acquainted with all the windings of the channels, we held on, and dropped anchor before twilight. If you have never seen the sun setting in those latitudes, I would recommend to you to make a voyage for the purpose, for I much doubt, if, in any other portion of the world, the departure of the orb of day is accompanied with such gorgeous appearances. Look at the great red disk, increased to triple its ordinary dimensions! Now it has partially sunk beneath the distant line of waters, and with its still remaining half irradiates the whole heavens with a flood of golden light, purpling the far off clouds that hover over the western horizon. A blaze of refulgent glory streams through the portals of the west, and the masses of vapour assume the semblance of mountains of molten gold. But the sun has now disappeared, and from the east slowly advances the grey curtain which night draws over the world.
The Night-hawk is flapping its noiseless wings in the gentle sea-breeze; the Terns, safely landed, have settled on their nests; the Frigate Pelicans are seen wending their way to distant mangroves; and the Brown Gannet, in search of a resting-place, has perched on the yard of the vessel. Slowly advancing landward, their heads alone above the water, are observed the heavily-laden Turtles, anxious to deposit their eggs in the well-known sands. On the surface of the gently rippling stream, I dimly see their broad forms, as they toil along, while at intervals may be heard their hurried breathings, indicative of suspicion and fear. The moon with her silvery light now illumines the scene, and the Turtle having landed, slowly and laboriously drags her heavy body over the sand, her "flappers" being better adapted for motion in the water than on shore. Up the slope, however, she works her way, and see how industriously she removes the sand beneath her, casting it out on either side. Layer after layer she deposits her eggs, arranging them in the most careful manner, and, with her hind-paddles, brings the sand over them. The business is accomplished, the spot is covered over, and, with a joyful heart, the Turtle swiftly retires toward the shore, and launches into the deep.
But the Tortugas are not the only breeding places of the Turtles; these animals, on the contrary, frequent many other keys, as well as various parts of the coast of the mainland. There are four different species, which are known by the names of the Green Turtle, the Hawk-billed Turtle, the Logger-head Turtle, and the Trunk Turtle. The first is considered the best as an article of food, in which capacity it is well known to most epicures. It approaches the shores, and enters the bays, inlets and rivers, early in the month of April, after having spent the winter in the deep waters. It deposits its eggs in convenient places, at two different times in May, and once again in June. The first deposit is the largest, and the last the least, the total quantity being at an average about two hundred and forty. The Hawk-billed Turtle, whose shell is so valuable as an article of commerce, being used for various purposes in the arts, is the next with respect to the quality of its flesh. It resorts to the outer keys only, where it deposits its eggs in two sets, first in July, and again in August, although it "crawls" the beaches of these keys much earlier in the season, as if to look for a safe place. The average number of its eggs is about three hundred. The Loggerhead visits the Tortugas in April, and lays from that period until late in June three sets of eggs, each set averaging a hundred and seventy. The Trunk Turtle, which is sometimes of an enormous size, and which has a pouch like a pelican, reaches the shores latest. The shell and flesh are so soft that one may push his finger into them, almost as into a lump of butter. This species is therefore considered as the least valuable, and indeed is seldom eaten, unless by the Indians, who, ever alert when the turtle season commences, first carry off the eggs, and afterwards catch the Turtles themselves. The average number of eggs which it lays in the season, in two sets, may be three hundred and fifty.
The Loggerhead and the Trunk Turtles are the least cautious in choosing the places in which to deposit their eggs, whereas the two other species select the wildest and most secluded spots. The Green Turtle resorts either to the shores of the Main, between Cape Sable and Cape Florida, or enters Indian, Halifax, and other large rivers or inlets, from which it makes its retreat as speedily as possible, and betakes itself to the open sea. Great numbers, however, are killed by the Turtlers and Indians, as well as by various species of carnivorous animals, as cougars, lynxes, bears and wolves. The Hawkbill, which is still more wary, and is always the most difficult to surprise, keeps to the sea islands. All the species employ nearly the same method in depositing their eggs in the sand, and as I have several times observed them in the act, I am enabled to present you with circumstantial account of it.
On first nearing the shores, and mostly on fine calm moonlight nights, the Turtle raises her head above the water, being still distant thirty or forty yards from the beach, looks around her, and attentively examines the objects on the shore. Should she observe nothing likely to disturb her intended operations, she emits a loud hissing sound, by which such of her many enemies as are unaccustomed to it, are startled, and so are apt to remove to another place, although unseen by her. Should she hear any noise, or perceive indications of danger, she instantly sinks and goes off to a considerable distance; but should every thing be quiet, she advances slowly towards the beach, crawls over it, her head raised to the full stretch of her neck, and when she has reached a place fitted for her purpose, she gazes all round in silence. Finding "all well," she proceeds to form a hole in the sand, which she effects by removing it from under her body with her hind flappers, scooping it out with so much dexterity that the sides seldom if ever fall in. The sand is raised alternately with each flapper, as with a large ladle, until it has accumulated behind her, when supporting herself with her head and fore part on the ground fronting her body, she with a spring from each flapper, sends the sand around her, scattering it to the distance of several feet. In this manner the hole is dug to the depth of eighteen inches or sometimes more than two feet. This labour I have seen performed in the short period of nine minutes. The eggs are then dropped one by one, and disposed in regular layers, to the number of a hundred and fifty, or sometimes nearly two hundred. The whole time spent in this part of the operation may be about twenty minutes. She now scrapes the loose sand back over the eggs, and so levels and smooths the surface, that few persons on seeing the spot could imagine any thing had been done to it. This accomplished to her mind, she retreats to the water with all possible dispatch, leaving the hatching of the eggs to the heat of the sand. When a turtle, a loggerhead for example, is in the act of dropping her eggs, she will not move although one should go up to her, or even seat himself on her back, for it seems that at this moment she finds it necessary to proceed at all events, and is unable to intermit her labour. The moment it is finished, however, off she starts; nor would it then be possible for one, unless he were as strong as a Hercules, to turn her over and secure her.
To upset a turtle on the shore, one is obliged to fall on his knees, and, placing his shoulder behind her forearm, gradually raise her up by pushing with great force, and then with a jerk throw her over. Sometimes it requires the united strength of several men to accomplish this; and, if the turtle should be of very great size, as often happens on that coast, even hand-spikes are employed. Some turtlers are so daring as to swim up to them while lying asleep on the surface of the water, and turn them over in their own element, when, however, a boat must be at hand to enable them to secure their prize. Few turtles can bite beyond the reach of their fore legs, and few, when once turned over, can, without assistance, regain their natural position; but, notwithstanding this, their flappers are generally secured by ropes so as to render their escape impossible.
Persons who search for turtles' eggs are provided with a light stiff cane or a gun-rod, with which they go along the shores, probing the sand near the tracks of the animals, which, however, cannot always be seen, on account of the winds and heavy rains, that often obliterate them. The nests are discovered not only by men, but also by beasts of prey, and the eggs are collected, or destroyed on the spot in great numbers, as on certain parts of the shores hundreds of turtles are known to deposit their eggs within the space of a mile. They form a new hole each time they lay, and the second is generally dug near the first, as if the animal were quite unconscious of what had befallen it. It will readily be understood that the numerous eggs seen in a turtle on cutting it up could not be all laid the same season. The whole number deposited by an individual in one summer may amount to four hundred, whereas if the animal is caught on or near her nest, as I have witnessed, the remaining eggs, all small, without shells, and as it were threaded like so many large beads, exceed three thousand. In an instance where I found that number, the turtle weighed nearly four hundred pounds. The young, soon after being hatched, and when yet scarcely larger than a dollar, scratch their way through their sandy covering, and immediately betake themselves to the water.
The food of the Green Turtle consists chiefly of marine plants, more especially the Grasswrack (Zostera marina), which they cut near the roots to procure the most tender and succulent parts. Their feeding grounds, as I have elsewhere said, are easily discovered by floating masses of these plants on the flats, or along the shores to which they resort. The Hawk-billed species feeds on sea-weeds, crabs, various kinds of shellfish, and fishes; the Loggerhead mostly on the fish of conch-shells of large size, which they are enabled, by means of their powerful beak, to crush to pieces with apparently as much ease as a man cracks a walnut. One which was brought on board the Marion, and placed near the fluke of one of her anchors, made a deep indentation in that hammered piece of iron that quite surprised me. The Trunk Turtle feeds on mollusca, fish, crustacea, sea urchins, and various marine plants.
All the species move through the water with surprising speed; but the Green and Hawk-billed in particular, remind you, by their celerity and the ease of their motions, of the progress of a bird in the air. It is therefore no easy matter to strike one with a spear, and yet this is often done by an accomplished turtler.
While at Key West and other islands on the coast, where I made the observations here presented to you, I chanced to have need to purchase some turtles, to feed my friends on board the Lady of the Green Mantle—not my friends her gallant officers, or the brave tars who formed her crew, for all of them had already been satiated with turtle soup, but my friends the Herons, of which I had a goodly number alive in coops, intending to carry them to JOHN BACHMAN of Charleston, and other persons for whom I ever feel a sincere regard. So I went to a "crawl," accompanied by Dr BENJAMIN STROBEL, to inquire about prices, when, to my surprise, I found that the smaller the turtles, above ten pounds weight, the dearer they were, and that I could have purchased one of the loggerhead kind that weighed more than seven hundred pounds, for little more money than another of only thirty pounds. While I gazed on the large one, I thought of the soups the contents of its shell would have furnished for a "Lord Mayor's dinner," of the numerous eggs which its swollen body contained, and of the curious carriage which might be made of its shell,—a car in which Venus herself might sail over the Carribbean sea, provided her tender doves lent their aid in drawing the divinity, and provided no shark or hurricane came to upset it. The turtler assured me that although the "great monster" was in fact better meat than any other of a less size, there was no disposing of it, unless indeed it had been in his power to have sent it to some very distant market. I would willingly have purchased it, but I knew that if killed, its flesh could not keep much longer than a day, and on that account I bought eight or ten small ones, which "my friends" really relished exceedingly, and which served to support them for a long time.
Turtles such as I have spoken of, are caught in various ways on the coasts of the Floridas, or in estuaries and rivers. Some turtlers are in the habit of setting great nets across the entrance of streams, so as to answer the purpose either at the flow or at the ebb of the waters. These nets are formed of very large meshes, into which the turtles partially enter, when, the more they attempt to extricate themselves, the more they get entangled. Others harpoon them in the usual manner; but in my estimation no method is equal to that employed by Mr EGAN, the Pilot of Indian Isle.
That extraordinary turtler had an iron instrument, which he called a peg, and which at each end had a point not unlike what nail-makers call a brad, it being four-cornered but flattish, and of a shape somewhat resembling the beak of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker, together with a neck and shoulder. Between the two shoulders of this instrument a fine tough line, fifty or more fathoms in length, was fastened by one end being passed through a hole in the centre of the peg, and the line itself was carefully coiled up and placed in a convenient part of the canoe. One extremity of this peg enters a sheath of iron that loosely attaches it to a long wooden spear, until a turtle has been pierced through the shell by the other extremity. He of the canoe paddles away as silently as possible whenever he spies a turtle basking on the water, until he gets within a distance of ten or twelve yards, when he throws the spear so as to hit the animal about the place which an entomologist would choose, were it a large insect, for pinning it to a piece of cork. As soon as the turtle is struck, the wooden handle separates from the peg, in consequence of the looseness of its attachment. The smart of the wound urges on the animal as if distracted, and it appears that the longer the peg remains in its shell, the more firmly fastened it is, so great a pressure is exercised upon it by the shell of the turtle, which being suffered to run like a whale, soon becomes fatigued, and is secured by hauling in the line with great care. In this manner, as the Pilot informed me, eight hundred Green Turtles were caught by one man in twelve months.
Each turtler has his crawl, which is a square wooden building or pen, formed of logs, which are so far separated as to allow the tide to pass freely through, and stand erect in the mud. The turtles are placed in this inclosure, fed and kept there until sold. If the animals thus confined have not laid their eggs previous to their seizure, they drop them in the water, so that they are lost. The price of Green Turtles, when I was at Key West, was from four to six cents per pound.
The loves of the turtles are conducted in a most extraordinary manner; but as the recital of them must prove out of place here, I shall pass them over. There is, however, a circumstance relating to their habits, which I cannot omit, although I have it not from my own ocular evidence, but from report. When I was in the Floridas, several of the turtlers assured me, that any turtle taken from the depositing ground, and carried on the deck of a vessel several hundred miles, would, if then let loose, certainly be met with at the same spot, either immediately after, or in the following breeding season. Should this prove true, and it certainly may, how much will be enhanced the belief of the student in the uniformity and solidity of Nature's arrangements, when he finds that the turtle, like a migratory bird, returns to the same locality, with perhaps a delight similar to that experienced by the traveller, who, after visiting distant countries, once more returns to the bosom of his cherished family.
THE ROUGH-LEGGED FALCON.
FALCO LAGOPUS, GMEL.
PLATE CLXVI. MALE.
Should the bird known in Europe by the above name, and that found in the United States, prove to be identical, I should not be a little surprised, as I consider our Rough-legged Falcon and the Falco niger of WILSON to be of the same species, the difference in their colour being merely indicative of a difference in age.
While at Boston, in the winter of 1832, I offered premiums for birds of this family, and received as many as eight at one time, of which not one resembled another in the colour of the plumage, although they were precisely similar in form and internal structure. The females were similar to the males, but were distinguished by their superior size. These eight birds, and some others which I examined, were all shot on the same salt marshes, within about five miles of the city. Their flight was precisely similar, as were their usual attitudes, either when perched on the branches of trees, stakes, or stalks of salt grass-hay, or when alighted on the banks of the ditches to watch for their prey. The darker the bird the more shy it was; when pursued it would fly at a much greater elevation and farther off than the light coloured individuals; and I feel confident, from my knowledge of birds, that this difference as to shyness arose from the circumstance, that the dark birds were the oldest. When listening to their disagreeable squealing notes, I could perceive no difference whatever. All these Hawks arrived in the marshes within a day or two of each other, in straggling parties of four or five, and the individuals composing these parties remained near each other as if retaining a mutual attachment. These and similar observations, made in other places from the Bay of Fundy to the marshes and meadows in the maritime districts of the State of Maryland, have convinced me that these Hawks form only one species.
The Rough-legged Hawk seldom goes farther south along our Atlantic coast than the Eastern portions of North Carolina, nor have I ever seen it to the west of the Alleghanies. It is a sluggish bird, and confines itself to the meadows and low grounds bordering the rivers and salt-marshes, along our bays and inlets. In such places you may see it perched on a stake, where it remains for hours at a time, unless some wounded bird comes in sight, when it sails after it, and secures it without manifesting much swiftness of flight. It feeds principally on moles, mice, and other small quadrupeds, and never attacks a duck on the wing, although now and then it pursues a wounded one. When not alarmed, it usually flies low and sedately, and does not exhibit any of the courage and vigour so conspicuous in most other hawks, suffering thousands of birds to pass without pursuing them. The greatest feat I have seen them perform was scrambling at the edge of the water, to secure a lethargic frog.
They alight on trees to roost, but appear so hungry or indolent at all times, that they seldom retire to rest until after dusk. Their large eyes indeed, seem to indicate their possession of the faculty of seeing at that late hour. I have frequently put up one, that seemed watching for food at the edge of a ditch, long after sunset. Whenever an opportunity offers, they eat to excess, and, like the Turkey Buzzards and Carrion Crows, disgorge their food, to enable them to fly off. The species is more nocturnal in its habits than any other Hawk found in the United States.
Nothing is known respecting their propagation in the United States, and as I have no desire to compile, I must pass over this subject. They leave us in the beginning of March, and betake themselves to more northern countries; yet not one did either myself, or my youthful and enterprising party, observe on my late rambles in Labrador.
I have given you the figure of what I suppose to have been a middle-aged bird, and will at another time place before you one of the dark-coloured kind, known by the name of Falco niger, but which I consider as the old bird of the present species.
However highly I esteem the labours of WILSON, I am here compelled to differ from him. How that accurate observer made two different species of the young and the adult Rough-legged Falcon, I cannot well understand, more especially as his description of Falco lagopus and F. niger are so similar, that one might infer from their comparison that they referred to the same species.
Of Falco lagopus he says:—"The Rough-legged Hawk measures twenty-two inches in length, and four feet two inches in extent; cere, sides of the mouth, and feet, rich yellow; legs feathered to the toes, with brownish-yellow plumage, streaked with brown; femorals the same; toes comparatively short; claws and bill blue-black; iris of the eye bright amber; upper part of the head pale ochre, streaked with brown; back and wings chocolate, each feather edged with bright ferruginous; first four primaries nearly black about the tips, edged externally with silvery in some lights; rest of the quills dark chocolate; lower, side, and interior vanes white; tail-coverts white; tail rounded, white, with a broad band of dark brown near the end, and tipt with white; body below, and breast, light yellow ochre, blotched and streaked with chocolate. What constitutes a characteristic mark of this bird, is a belt or girdle of very dark brown, passing round the belly just below the breast, and reaching under the wings to the rump; head very broad, and bill uncommonly small, suited to the humility of its prey.
"The female is much darker both above and below, particularly in the belt or girdle, which is nearly black; the tail-coverts are also spotted with chocolate; she is also something larger.
"The Black Hawk is twenty-one inches long, and four feet two inches in extent; bill bluish-black; cere and sides of the mouth orange-yellow; feet the same; eye very large; iris bright hazel; cartilage overhanging the eye prominently, of a dull greenish colour; general colour above brown-black, slightly dashed with dirty white; nape of the neck pure white under the surface; front white; whole lower parts black, with slight tinges of brown; and a few circular touches of the same on the femorals; legs feathered to the toes, and black, touched with brownish; the wings reach rather beyond the tip of the tail; the five first primaries are white on their inner vanes; tail rounded at the end, deep black, crossed with five narrow bands of pure white, and broadly tipped with dull white; vent black, spotted with white; inside vanes of the primaries snowy; claws black, strong, and sharp; toes remarkably short."
I have frequently examined the very specimen from which WILSON took his figure of the Falco niger, and which is now in the collection of the Academy of Natural Sciences at Philadelphia. On comparing it with specimens of the Rough-legged Falcon in its ordinary states, I could discover no essential differences, nor, in fact, any excepting such as have reference to colour, a circumstance or quality which in hawks is known to vary so much in almost every species at different periods of their lives, that it would be useless for me to offer any remarks on the subject. Besides this, WILSON'S figure is by no means correct as to colouring, it being in fact black, in contradiction to his description. I have beside me specimens in which the colour of the plumage is very different, some being quite light, others almost black; and I feel pretty confident that further researches respecting this species will shew that my opinion is not incorrect, when I say that the Rough-legged Falcon of America and the Falco niger of WILSON, are the same bird.
I am of opinion that the reason for which the dark coloured individuals are of much rarer occurrence with us, than the lighter ones, is, that the former being older and stronger birds, are much better able to bear the inclemency of the weather in more northern regions.
FALCO LAGOPUS, Gmel. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 260.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 19.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 32.
BUTEO LAGOPUS, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 52.
ROUGH-LEGGED FALCON, FALCO LAGOPUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 59. pl. 33. Fig.1.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 97.
Middle aged Male. Plate CLXVI.
Bill short, as broad as deep at the base, which is cerate, the sides convex; upper mandible with the dorsal outline straight and declinate at the base, soon becoming convex, the tip trigonal, descending obliquely, acute, the sharp margin undulated and perpendicular; lower mandible with the back convex, the edges sharp, arched, and inflected, the tip obliquely truncate. Nostrils large, subovate in the fore and under part of the cere. Head rather large, broad, neck of moderate length, body robust. Feet short, robust; tarsi roundish, feathered; toes short, and rather small, hind toe and inner strongest and nearly equal, the latter connected with the middle at the base by a short membrane, the outer smallest; all with four transverse scutella at the end, the rest of their upper parts covered with very small hexagonal scales; claws compressed, strong, curved, acute, flat beneath.
Plumage ordinary, soft beneath. Space between the bill and eye covered with bristly feathers, the bases of which are furnished with short barbs. Feathers of the head and neck lanceolate, of the back and breast broad and rounded, of the legs short and narrow, excepting the external tibial, which are long and rounded. Wings long, third quill longest, fourth almost equal, second shorter than fifth, first very short; first four abruptly cut out towards the end on the inner web; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail rather long, broad, rounded.
Bill dull bluish-grey, black at the end. Iris hazel, projecting part of the eye-brow greenish-blue, cere yellow. Toes yellow, claws black. Bases of the black bristles of the lore whitish. The head and neck are streaked with umber-brown and yellowish-white, the centre and tip of each feather being of the former colour. Back umber-brown, variegated with light reddish-brown and yellowish-white. Quills dark brown towards the end, the outer webs of the first six tinged with grey, the base of all white, that colour extending farther on the secondaries, of most of which, and of some of the primaries, the inner web is irregularly barred with brown. Upper tail-coverts white, irregularly barred with dark brown. Tail white at the base, brown and mottled towards the end, with a broad subterminal bar of brownish-black, the tips brownish-white. Middle and hind part of the thorax, with the sides blackish-brown. Breast yellowish-white, largely spotted and blotched with umber. Feathers of the legs paler yellowish-red, barred with dusky; abdomen yellowish-white, as are the under tail-coverts, which are marked with a small brown spot.
Length 22 inches, extent of wings 4 feet 1 inch; bill along the back 1⅜, along the edge 1-7/12; tarsus 2-11/12.
The Female agrees in colouring, but is considerably larger.
The old bird, which has a very different look as to colour, has been noticed or described under different names.
BLACK HAWK, FALCO NIGER, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 82. pl. 53. fig. 1.
FALCO SANCTI JOHANNIS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 32.
The bill, feet, and iris, are coloured as in middle age; but the plumage is of a nearly uniform chocolate-brown, the bases of the quills, however, remaining white, the broad band on the under surface of the wing being the same as in the younger bird; and the tail being brown, without a subterminal bar of black, but slightly tipped with brownish-white, and barred with yellowish-white on the inner webs, the bars becoming more distinct on the outer feathers. The wings in both reach to near the tip of the tail. The feathers on the nape of the neck are white excepting at the extremities, which is also the case in the young and middle aged birds, and is not a circumstance peculiar to this species, being observed in F. Albicilla, F. palumbarius, F. Nisus, and many others.
THE KEY WEST PIGEON.
COLUMBA MONTANA, LINN.
PLATE CLXVII. MALE AND FEMALE.
It was at Key West that I first saw this beautiful Pigeon. The Marion was brought to anchor close to, and nearly opposite, the little town of the same name, some time after the setting of the sun. The few flickering lights I saw nearly fixed the size of the place in my imagination. In a trice, the kind captain and I were seated in his gig, and I felt the onward movement of the light bark as if actually on wing, so well timed was the pulling of the brave tars who were taking us to the shore. In this place I formed acquaintance with Major GLASSEL of the United States Artillery, and his family, of Dr BENJAMIN STROBEL, and several other persons, to whom I must ever feel grateful for the kind attention which they paid to me and my assistants, as well as for the alacrity with which they aided me in procuring rare specimens not only of birds, but also of shells and plants, most of which were unknown to me. Indeed—I cannot too often repeat it—the facilities afforded me by our Government, during my latter journeys and voyages, have been so grateful to my feelings, that I have frequently thought that circumstance alone quite sufficient to induce even a less ardent lover of nature to exert himself to the utmost in repaying the favour.
Major GLASSEL sent one of his serjeants with me to search the whole island, with which he was perfectly acquainted. The name of this soldier was SYKES, and his life, like mine, had been a chequered one; for there are few pleasures unaccompanied with pains, real or imaginary, and the worthy sergeant had had his share of both. I soon discovered that he was a perfect woodsman, for although we traversed the densest thickets, in close and gloomy weather, he conducted me quite across the island, in as masterly a manner as ever did an Indian on a like occasion.—But perhaps, kind reader, a copy of my journal for that day, may afford you a clearer idea of our search for rare birds, than any other means that I could devise. Before I proceed, however, allow me to state, that, while at Charleston, in South Carolina, I saw at my friend BACHMAN'S house the head of a Pigeon which Dr STROBEL had sent from Key West, and which I perceived did not belong to the Zenaida Dove. Serjeant SYKES had seen the Pigeon, and acquainted as he was with the birds of the country, he gave some hope that we might procure a few of them that very day;—and now, for my Journal.
May 6. 1832.—When I reached the garrison, I found the sergeant waiting for me. I gave him some small shot, and we set off, not in full run, nor even at a dog-trot, but with the slowness and carefulness usually employed by a lynx or a cougar when searching for prey. We soon reached the thickets, and found it necessary to move in truth very slowly, one foot warily advanced before the other, one hand engaged in opening a passage, and presently after occupied in securing the cap on the head, in smashing some dozens of hungry musquitoes, or in drawing the sharp thorn of a cactus from a leg or foot, in securing our gun-locks, or in assisting ourselves to rise after a fall occasioned by stumbling against the projecting angle of a rock. But we pushed on, squeezed ourselves between the stubborn branches, and forced our way as well as we could, my guide of course having the lead. Suddenly I saw him stoop, and observing the motion of his hand, immediately followed his example. Reduced by his position to one half of his natural height, he moved more briskly, inclined to the right, then to the left, then pushed forward, and raising his piece as he stopped, immediately fired. "I have it," cried he. "What?" cried I. "The pigeon"—and he disappeared. The heat was excessive, and the brushwood here was so thick and tangled, that had not Mr SYKES been a United States soldier, I should have looked upon him as bent on retaliating on behalf of "the eccentric naturalist;" for, although not more than ten paces distant from me, not a glimpse of him could I obtain. After crawling to the spot I found him smoothing the feathers of a Pigeon which I had never seen, nay the most beautiful yet found in the United States. How I gazed on its resplendent plumage!—how I marked the expression of its rich-coloured, large and timid eye, as the poor creature was gasping its last breath!—Ah, how I looked on this lovely bird! I handled it, turned it, examined its feathers and form, its bill, its legs and claws, weighed it by estimate, and after a while formed a winding sheet for it of a piece of paper. Did ever an Egyptian pharmacopolist employ more care in embalming the most illustrious of the Pharaohs, than I did in trying to preserve from injury this most beautiful of the woodland cooers!
I never felt, nor did my companion, that our faces and hands were covered with musquitoes; and although the perspiration made my eyes smart, I was as much delighted as ever I had been on such an occasion. We travelled onward, much in the same manner, until we reached the opposite end of the island; but not another bird did we meet this day.
As we sat near the shore gazing on the curious light pea-green colour of the sea, I unfolded my prize, and as I now more quietly observed the brilliant changing metallic hues of its plumage, I could not refrain from exclaiming—"But who will draw it?" for the obvious difficulties of copying nature struck me as powerfully as they ever had done, and brought to my memory the following passage:—"La nature se joue du pinceau des hommes;—lorsqu'on croit qu'il a atteint sa plus grande beauté, elle sourit et s'embellit encore!"
We returned along the shore of this curious island to the garrison, after which Major GLASSEL'S barge conveyed me on board of the Marion.
I have taken upon myself to name this species the Key West Pigeon, and offer it as a tribute to the generous inhabitants of that island, who favoured me with their friendship.
The flight of this bird is low, swift, and protracted. I saw several afterwards when they were crossing from Cuba to Key West, the only place in which I found them. It flies in loose flocks of from five or six to a dozen, with flappings having an interval apparently of six feet, so very low over the sea, that one might imagine it on the eve of falling into the water every moment. It is fond of going out from the thickets early in the morning, for the purpose of cleansing itself in the shelly sand that surrounds the island; but the instant it perceives danger it flies off to the woods, throws itself into the thickest part of them, alights on the ground, and runs off with rapidity until it thinks itself secure. The jetting motions of its tail are much like those of the Carolina Dove, and it moves its neck to and fro, forward and backward, as Pigeons are wont to do.
The cooing of this species is not so soft or prolonged as that of the Common Dove, or of the Zenaida Dove, and yet not so emphatical as that of any true Pigeon with which I am acquainted. It may be imitated by pronouncing the following syllables:—Whoe-whoe-oh-oh-oh. When suddenly approached by man, it emits a guttural gasping-like sound, somewhat in the manner of the Common Tame Pigeon on such an occasion. They alight on the lower branches of shrubby trees, and delight in the neighbourhood of shady ponds, but always inhabit, by preference, the darkest solitudes.
The nest of the Key West Pigeon is formed of light dry twigs, and much resembles in shape that of the Carolina Dove. Sometimes you find it situated on the ground, when less preparation is used. Some nests are placed on the large branches of trees quite low, while others are fixed on slender twigs. On the 20th May, one of these nests was found containing two pure white eggs, about the size of those of the White-headed Pigeon, nearly round, and so transparent that I could see the yolk by holding them to the light. How long incubation continues, or if they raise more than one brood in a season, I am unable to say.
Towards the middle of July they become sufficiently abundant at Key West, to enable sportsmen to shoot as many as a score in a day; for, as soon as the young are able to follow their parents, they frequently resort to the roads to dust themselves, and are then easily approached. Dr STROBEL told me he had procured more than a dozen of these birds in the course of a morning, and assured me that they were excellent eating.
Their food consists of berries and seeds of different plants, and when the sea-grape is ripe, they feed greedily upon it. They all depart for Cuba, or the other West India Islands, about the middle of October.
Until my arrival at Key West, this species was supposed to be the Zenaida Dove. The young, when fully feathered, are of a dark-grey colour above, lighter below, the bill and legs of a deep leaden hue. I am inclined to believe that they attain their full beauty of plumage the following spring.
So much are these birds confined to the interior of the undergrowth, that their loves are entirely prosecuted there; nor do they on such occasions elevate themselves in the air, as is the manner of the Carolina Dove.
COLUMBA MONTANA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 281.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 594.
PARTRIDGE PIGEON, Lath. Synops. vol. iv. p. 615.
Adult Male. Plate CLXVII. Fig. 1.
Bill straight, of ordinary length, rather slender, broader than deep at the base, compressed toward the end; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, a convex declinate obtuse tip, and a slight sinus in the sharp margins; lower mandible with the angle near the extremity, which is compressed and rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed, the general form rather robust. Legs short, and of moderate strength; tarsus covered anteriorly with broad scutella, rounded behind; toes scutellate free, margined; claws rather small, arched, compressed, marginate, obtuse.
Plumage compact on the back, elsewhere blended with strong, but disunited barbs. Wings of ordinary length; second quill longest, first intermediate between the fourth and fifth. First four primaries more or less cut out on the outer web, towards the end. Tail much rounded, of twelve broad rounded feathers.
Bill horn-colour at the end, the fleshy parts at the base bright carmine. Iris and margins of the eye-lids carmine. Feet flesh-coloured, the scutella of the tarsus and toes carmine. Forehead and a band running behind the eye light reddish-brown; upper part of the head shining with purplish-brown and light green reflections, as is the back of the neck. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-red, the wing-coverts and margins of the quills and tail shaded with green, the fore part of the back splendent with purple reflections. There is a broad white band from the lower mandible beneath the eye, and the throat is of the same colour; under the subocular white band is another of the same colour as the forehead. The fore-neck and breast are of a rich but delicate pale purple, which fades into cream-colour behind. Under surface of the wings and tail of the same colour as the upper, but fainter.
Length 11¾ inches, extent of wings 17½; bill along the back 10/12, along the edge 1 inch; tarsus 1-2/12, middle-toe 4/12; weight 6 ounces.
Adult Female. Plate CLXVII. Fig. 2.
The Female resembles the Male, the tints being merely fainter, and the gloss of the neck and back less splendent.
* * * * *
The plants represented in this plate grew on Key West, in sheltered situations. That with purple flowers is a Convolvulus, the other an Ipomæa. The blossoms are partially closed at night, and although ornamental, are destitute of odour.
THE FORKED-TAILED FLYCATCHER.
MUSCICAPA SAVANA, BONAP.
PLATE CLXVIII. MALE.
In the end of June 1832, I observed one of these birds a few miles below the city of Camden, flying over a meadow in pursuit of insects, after, which it alighted on the top of a small detached tree, where I followed it and succeeded in obtaining it. The bird appeared to have lost itself: it was unsuspicious, and paid no attention to me as I approached it. While on the wing, it frequently employed its long tail, when performing sudden turns in following its prey, and when alighted, it vibrated it in the manner of the Sparrow-Hawk. The bird fell to the ground wounded, and uttering a sharp squeak, which it repeated, and accompanied with smart clicks of its bill, when I went up to it. It lived only a few minutes, and from it the drawing transferred to the plate was made. This figure corresponds precisely with a skin shewn to me by my friend CHARLES PICKERING, at the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, except in the general tint of the plumage, his specimen, which he had received from South America, having been much faded.
Many years ago, while residing at Henderson in Kentucky, I had one of these birds brought to me which had been caught by the hand, and was nearly putrid when I got it. The person who presented it to me had caught it in the Barrens, ten or twelve miles from Henderson, late in October, after a succession of white frosts, and had kept it more than a week. While near the city of Natchez, in the State of Mississippi, in August 1822, I saw two others high in the air, twittering in the manner of the King Bird; but they disappeared to the westward, and I was unable to see them again. These four specimens were the only ones I have seen in the United States, where individuals appear only at long intervals, and in far distant districts, as if they had lost themselves. I regret that I am unable to afford any information respecting their habits.
The bird has been placed on a plant which grows in Georgia, and which was drawn by my friend BACHMAN'S sister.
MUSCICAPA TYRANNUS, Linn. vol. i. p. 325.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 484.
MUSCICAPA SAVANA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 67.
FORK-TAILED FLYCATCHER, MUSCICAPA SAVANA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 1. pl. 1. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, part ii. p. 274.
Adult Male. Plate CLVIII.
Bill of moderate length, rather stout, straight, broad at the base, compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the dorsal outline a little convex, the sides convex, the edges sharp and nearly perpendicular, with a very small notch close upon the small deflected tip; lower mandible with the back broad, the sides rounded, the edges sharp and inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, depressed, neck short, body rather slender. Feet rather short; tarsus compressed, rather sharp before and behind, anteriorly covered with broad scutella; toes free, the hind toe not proportionally larger; claws slightly arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Basirostral bristles strong. Wings rather long, second quills longest, third a little shorter, first almost as long as third, all the three curiously cut into near the end, with a sharp sinus, the rest of the quills to the tip being extremely slender. Tail with the lateral feather extremely elongated, very deeply forked, the middle feathers being of ordinary length, the intermediate ones graduated.
Bill and feet black. Iris dusky. Head and cheeks deep black, the feathers of the crown deep yellow at the base, that colour being visible only when the crest is elevated. The back is ash-grey, becoming darker behind, so that the tail-feathers are blackish-brown, margined with grey. Wing-coverts and quills blackish-brown, slightly margined with grey, as is the tail, of which, however, the outer web of the lateral feather is white for half its length from the base. The lower parts are white.
Length 14¼ inches, extent of wings 14; bill along the ridge 7/12, along the edge 10/12; tarsus 7½/12. Outer tail-feathers 10, the next 4¾, the middle ones 2½.
The Female resembles the Male.
GORDONIA LASIANTHUS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 840. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 451.—MONODELPHIA POLYANDRIA, Linn.
This beautiful small tree is met with in Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida, in moist lands near the coast, and never fails to attract the eye by its beautiful blossoms. The twig from which the drawing was made was procured from the garden of Mr NOISETTE, who liberally afforded me all the aid in his power for embellishing my plates. The leaves are evergreen, lanceolato-oblong, shining, and leathery; the flowers white, of the size of the common garden-rose, and placed on long peduncles; the capsules conical and acuminate.
THE MANGROVE CUCKOO.
COCCYZUS SENICULUS, NUTTALL.
PLATE CLXIX. MALE.
A few days after my arrival at Key West in the Floridas, early in the month of May, Major GLASSEL of the United States' Army presented me with a specimen of this bird, which had been killed by one of the soldiers belonging to the garrison. I had already observed many Cuckoos in the course of my walks through the tangled woods of that curious island; but as they seemed to be our Common Yellow-billed species, I passed them without paying much attention to them. The moment this specimen was presented to me however, I knew that it was a species unknown to me, and thought, as I have on many occasions had reason to do, how vigilant the student of nature ought to be, when placed in a country previously unvisited by him. The bird was immediately drawn, and I afterwards shot several others, all precisely corresponding with it.
The habits of the Mangrove Cuckoo I found to be much the same as those of our two other well known species. Like them, it is fond of sucking the eggs of all kinds of birds in the absence of their owners, and also feeds on fruits and various species of insects. It is, however, more vigilant and shy, and does not extend its migrations northward beyond the eastern capes of the Floridas, appearing, indeed, to confine itself mostly to the islets covered with mangroves, among the sombre foliage of which trees it usually builds its nest and rears its young. It retires southward in the beginning of September, according to the accounts of it which I received in the country.
The nest is slightly constructed of dry twigs, and is almost flat, nearly resembling that of the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, which I have already described. The eggs are of the same number and form as those of that species, but somewhat larger. It raises two broods in the season, and feeds its young on insects until they are able to go abroad.
The White-headed Pigeon is frequently robbed of its eggs by this plunderer, and it is alleged by the fishermen and wreckers that it destroys the squabs when yet very young, but I saw no instance of this barbarous propensity. One which had been caught in its nest, and which I saw placed in a cage, refused all kinds of food, and soon died. This, however proved to me the great affection which they have towards their eggs. Their flight is much like that of the other species described by me, perhaps only more rapid and elevated when they are proceeding to some distant place.
COCCYZUS SENICULUS, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 558.
CUCULUS SENICULUS, Lath. Index Ornith. vol. i. p. 219.
MANGROVE CUCKOO, Lath. Synops. vol. ii. p. 537.
Adult Male. Plate CLXIX.
Bill as long as the head, broad at the base, compressed, slightly arched, acute; upper mandible carinated above, its margins acute and entire; lower mandible carinated beneath, acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, linear-elliptical, half-closed by a membrane. Feet short; tarsus covered with a few large scutella, which extend around it and meet behind; toes two before, separated; two behind, one of which is versatile; their under surface broad and flat; claws slender, compressed, arched.
Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Wings long, the first quill short, the third and fourth longest and equal; primaries tapering, secondaries broad and rounded. Tail very long, graduated, of ten feathers, which are broad and rounded.
Upper mandible brownish-black, lower mandible yellow at the base, blackish on the margin and at the end. Iris hazel. Feet greyish-blue. The general colour of the upper parts, including the wing-coverts and two middle tail-feathers, is light greenish-brown, the head tinged with grey; primary quills umber-brown; tail-feathers, excepting the two middle ones, brownish-black tipped with white, the outer more largely. The lower surface brownish-orange.
Length 12 inches, extent of wings 15; bill along the ridge 1, along the edge 1¼; tarsus 1-1/12, longest toe 1¼.
The Female resembles the male, but is somewhat paler, especially on the lower surface, which is tinged with grey.
THE SEVEN YEARS' APPLE, Catesby, plate 59.
The plant, on a twig of which I have represented the Mangrove Cuckoo, is found on all the Florida Keys, and at times is seen growing in large patches on the mud flats that exist between the outer islets and the mainland. The leaves are thick, glossy above, furred, and of a dull brown colour beneath.
THE PIPIRY FLYCATCHER.
MUSCICAPA DOMINICENSIS, BRISS.
PLATE CLXX. MALE.
Having landed on one of the Florida Keys, I scarcely had time to cast a glance over the diversified vegetation which presented itself, when I observed a pair of birds mounting perpendicularly in the air twittering with a shrill continued note new to me. The country itself was new: it was what my mind had a thousand times before conceived a tropical scene to be. As I walked over many plants, curious and highly interesting to me, my sensations were joyous in the highest degree, for I saw that in a few moments I should possess a new subject, on which I could look with delight, as one of the great Creator's marvellous works.
I was on one of those yet unknown islets, which the foot of man has seldom pressed. A Flycatcher unknown to me had already presented itself, and the cooing of a Dove never before heard come on my ear. I felt some of that pride, which doubtless pervades the breast of the discoverer of some hitherto unknown land. Although desirous of obtaining the birds before me, I had no wish to shoot them at that moment. My gun lay loosely on my arms, my eyes were rivetted on the Flycatchers, my ears open to the soft notes of the Doves. Reader, such are the moments, amid days of toil and discomfort, that compensate for every privation. It is on such occasions that the traveller feels most convinced, that the farther he proceeds, the better will be his opportunities of observing the results of the Divine conception. What else, I would ask of you, can be more gratifying to the human intellect!
Delighted and amused I stood for a while contemplating the beautiful world that surrounded me, and from which man would scarcely retire with willingness, had not the Almighty ordained it otherwise. But action had now to succeed, and I quickly procured some of the Flycatchers. Their habits too, I subsequently studied for weeks in succession, and the result of my observations I now lay before you.
About the 1st of April, this species reaches the Florida Keys, and spreads over the whole of them, as far as Cape Florida, or perhaps somewhat farther along the eastern coast of the Peninsula. It comes from Cuba, where the species is said to be rather abundant, as well as in the other West India Islands. Its whole demeanour so much resembles that of the Tyrant Flycatcher, that were it not for its greater size, and the difference of its notes, it might be mistaken for that bird, as I think it has been on former occasions by travellers less intent than I, on distinguishing species. At the season when I visited the Floridas, there was not a Key ever so small without at least a pair of them.
Their flight is performed by a constant flutter of the wings, unless when the bird is in chase, or has been rendered shy, when it exhibits a power and speed equal to those of any other species of the genus. During the love season, the male and female are seen rising from a dry twig together, either perpendicularly, or in a spiral manner, crossing each other as they ascend, twittering loudly, and conducting themselves in a manner much resembling that of the Tyrant Flycatcher. When in pursuit of insects, they dart at them with great velocity. Should any large bird pass near their stand, they immediately pursue it, sometimes to a considerable distance. I have seen them, after teasing a Heron or Fish Crow, follow them nearly half a mile, and return exulting to the tree on which they had previously been perched. Yet I frequently observed that the approach of a White-headed Pigeon or Zenaida Dove, never ruffled their temper. To the Grakles they were particularly hostile, and on all occasions drove them away from their stand, or the vicinity of their nest, with unremitting perseverance. The reason in this case, and in that of the Fish Crow, was obvious, for these birds sucked their eggs or destroyed their young whenever an opportunity occurred. This was also the case with the Mangrove Cuckoo.
This species is careless of the approach of man, probably because it is seldom disturbed by him. I have been so near some of them as to see distinctly the colour of their eyes. No sooner, however, had it begun to build its nest, than it flew about me or my companions, as if much exasperated at our being near, frequently snapping its beak with force, and in various ways loudly intimating its disapprobation of our conduct. Then as if we retired from the neighbourhood of its nest, it flew upwards, chattering notes of joy.
They fix their nest somewhat in the manner of the King Bird, that is, on horizontal branches, or in the large fork of a mangrove, or bush of any other species, without paying much attention to its position, with respect to the water, but with very singular care to place it on the western side of the tree, or of the islet. I found it sometimes not more than two feet above high water, and at other times twenty. It is composed externally of light dry sticks, internally of a thin layer of slender grasses or fibrous roots, and has some resemblance to that of the Carolina Pigeon in this respect that, from beneath, I could easily see the eggs through it. These were regularly four in all the nests that I saw, of a white colour, with many dots towards the larger end. The young I have never seen, my visit to those Keys having been in some measure abridged through lack of provisions.
On one of the Keys to which I went, although of small size, I saw several nests, and at least a dozen of these birds all peaceably enjoying themselves. The sexes present no external difference. According to report, they retire from these islands about the beginning of November, after which few land birds of any kind are seen on them.
After I had arrived at Charlestown in South Carolina, on returning from my expedition to the Floridas, a son of PAUL LEE, Esq. a friend of the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN, called upon us, asserting that he had observed a pair of Flycatchers in the College Yard, differing from all others with which he was acquainted. We listened, but paid little regard to the information, and deferred our visit to the trees in the College Yard. A week after, young LEE returned to the charge, urging us to go to the place, and see both the birds and their nest. To please this amiable youth Mr BACHMAN and I soon reached the spot; but before we arrived the nest had been destroyed by some boys. The birds were not to be seen, but a Common King Bird happening to fly over us, we jeered our young observer, and returned home. Soon after the Flycatchers formed another nest, in which they reared a brood, when young LEE gave intimation to Mr BACHMAN, who, on visiting the place, recognised them as of the species described in this article. Of this I was apprised by letter after I had left Charleston, for the purpose of visiting the northern parts of the Union. The circumstance enforced upon me the propriety of never suffering an opportunity of acquiring knowledge to pass, and of never imagining for a moment that another may not know something that has escaped your attention.
Since that time, three years have elapsed. The birds have regularly returned every spring to the College-yard, and have there reared, in peace, two broods each season, having been admired and respected by the collegians, after they were apprised that the species had not previously been found in the State. It thus furnishes another of the now numerous instances of new species entering the Union from the south, to increase our Fauna, and enliven our hours.
The branch on which I have represented a Male in full plumage, is that of a species rather rare on the Florida Keys, although, as I was assured, it abounds in Cuba. It blooms during the season when this bird builds its nest. The flower is destitute of scent; the fruit is a long narrow legume, containing numerous seeds, placed at equal distances.
LE TYRAN DE S. DOMINIQUE, TYRANNUS DOMINICENSIS, Briss. vol. ii. p. 394. pl. 38. fig. 2.
LANIUS TYRANNUS, var. β, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 81.
TYRANNUS GRISEUS, Vieill. Ois. de l'Amer. pl. 46.
Adult Male. Plate CLXX.
Bill rather long, stout, straight, broad at the base, a little compressed towards the end; both mandibles with the dorsal line a little convex, the sides rounded, the edges nearly straight, sharp, inclinate; a slight notch close to the small deflected tip. Nostrils basal, lateral, roundish, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather slender. Feet short; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few very broad scutella; toes of moderate size, the hind one not proportionally stronger, the inner a little shorter than the outer; claws rather long, arched, much compressed, very acute.
Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Strong bristles at the base of the upper mandible. Wings rather long, third quill longest, but the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth differ very little in length; the first is the next in length, and is much longer than the seventh; all these quills, excepting the last, are slightly cut out on the outer web, and are suddenly diminished on the inner, near the end, so as to have a very narrow rounded extremity. Tail rather long, emarginate, of twelve rounded feathers.
Bill and feet brownish-black. Iris dark hazel. Upper parts in general dull ash-grey; shaded with brown posteriorly, a concealed spot of flame colour on the top of the head, which is perceptible only when the feathers are raised. Coverts, quills, and tail-feathers dusky brown, all more or less margined with brownish-white. The lower parts are greyish-white, the breast and sides pale grey, the lower tail-coverts tinged with yellow, as are the lower wing-coverts.
Length 8⅞ inches, extent of wings 14⅜; bill along the ridge 1-1/12, along the edge 1-4/12; tarsus 9/12.
The Female resembles the Male, but is somewhat smaller, and the bright spot on the head is paler.
The leguminous plant of which a twig is represented in the plate, is one of the handsomest productions of Key West, where I found it in full flower in the month of May. It reaches the height of twenty feet or more, and has a rather slender, but elegant stem, of which the wood is as brittle as that of our common acacias. The pods are eight or nine inches in length, and of the size of a swan's quill; the seeds, which are dark-brown when ripe, glossy and globular, lie at regular intervals. The deep green of the long pendulous leaves, and the bright red of the large papilionaceous flowers, form a beautiful contrast. Many of these trees were planted near the house of my friend Dr BENJAMIN STROBEL, under whose hospitable roof the twig was drawn. I saw no plants of the species on any other Key.
THE BURNING OF THE FORESTS.
With what pleasure have I seated myself by the blazing fire of some lonely cabin, when, faint with fatigue, and chilled with the piercing blast, I had forced my way to it through the drifted snows that covered the face of the country as with a mantle! The affectionate mother is hushing her dear babe to repose, while a group of sturdy children surround their father, who has just returned from the chase, and deposited on the rough flooring of his hut the varied game which he has procured. The great back log, that with some difficulty has been rolled into the ample chimney, urged, as it were, by lighted pieces of pine, sends forth a blaze of light over the happy family. The dogs of the hunter are already licking away the trickling waters of the thawing icicles that sparkle over their shaggy coats, and the comfort-loving cat is busied in passing her furry paws over each ear, or with her rough tongue smoothing her glossy coat.
How delightful to me has it been, when kindly received and hospitably treated under such a roof, by persons whose means were as scanty as their generosity was great, I have entered into conversation with them respecting subjects of interest to me, and received gratifying information. When the humble but plentiful repast was ended, the mother would take from the shelf the Book of books, and mildly request the attention of her family while the father read aloud a chapter. Then to Heaven would ascend their humble prayers, and a good-night would be bidden to all friends far and near. How comfortably have I laid my wearied frame on the buffalo hide, and covered me with the furry skin of some huge bear! How pleasing have been my dreams of home and happiness, as I there lay secure from danger, and sheltered from the inclemency of the weather.
I recollect that once while in the State of Maine, I passed such a night as I have described. Next morning the face of nature was obscured by the heavy rains that fell in torrents, and my generous host begged me to remain in such pressing terms, that I was well content to accept his offer. Breakfast over, the business of the day commenced: the spinning wheels went round, and the boys employed themselves, one in searching for knowledge, another in attempting to solve some ticklish arithmetical problem. In a corner lay the dogs dreaming of plunder, while close to the ashes stood grimalkin seriously purring in concert with the wheels. The hunter and I seated ourselves each on a stool, while the matron looked after her domestic arrangements.
"Puss," quoth the Dame, "get away; you told me last night of this day's rain, and I fear you may now give us worse news with tricky paws." Puss accordingly went off, leaped on a bed, and rolling herself in a ball, composed herself for a comfortable nap. I asked the husband what his wife meant by what she had just said. "The goodwoman," said he, "has some curious notions at times, and she believes, I think, in the ways of animals of all kinds. Now, her talk to the cat refers to the fires of the woods around us, and although they have happened long ago, she fears them quite as much as ever, and indeed she and I, and all of us, have good reason to dread them, as they have brought us many calamities." Having read of the great fires to which my host alluded, and frequently observed with sorrow the mournful state of the forests, I felt anxious to know something of the causes by which these direful effects had been produced. I therefore requested him to give me an account of the events resulting from those fires which he had witnessed. Willingly he at once went on nearly as follows:—
"About twenty-five years ago, the larch or hackmitack trees were nearly all killed by insects. This took place in what hereabouts is called the "black soft growth" land, that is the spruce, pine, and all other firs. The destruction of the trees was effected by the insects cutting the leaves, and you must know, that although other trees are not killed by the loss of their leaves, the evergreens always are. Some few years after this destruction of the larch, the same insects attacked the spruces, pines, and other firs, in such a manner, that before half a dozen years were over, they began to fall, and, tumbling in all directions, they covered the whole country with matted masses. You may suppose that, when partially dried or seasoned, they would prove capital fuel, as well as supplies for the devouring flames which accidentally, or perhaps by intention, afterwards raged over the country, and continued burning at intervals for years, in many places stopping all communication by the roads, the resinous nature of the firs being of course best fitted to ensure and keep up the burning of the deep beds of dry leaves or of the other trees."—Here I begged him to give me some idea of the form of the insects which had caused such havoc.
"The insects," said he, "were, in their caterpillar form, about three quarters of an inch in length, and as green as the leaves of the trees they fed on, when they committed their ravages. I must tell you also, that in most of the places over which the fire passed, a new growth of wood has already sprung up, of what we lumberers call hard wood, which consists of all other sorts but pine or fir; and I have always remarked that wherever the first natural growth of a forest is destroyed, either by the axe, the hurricane, or the fire, there springs up spontaneously another of quite a different kind." I again stopped my host to inquire if he knew the method or nature of the first kindling of the fires.
"Why, Sir," said he, "there are different opinions about this. Many believe that the Indians did it, either to be the better able to kill the game, or to punish their enemies the Pale-faces. My opinion, however, is different; and I derive it from my experience in the woods as a lumberer. I have always thought that the fires began by the accidental fall of a dry trunk against another, when their rubbing together, especially as many of them are covered with resin, would produce fire. The dry leaves on the ground are at once kindled, next the twigs and branches, when nothing but the intervention of the Almighty could stop the progress of the fire.
"In some instances, owing to the wind, the destructive element approached the dwellings of the inhabitants of the woods so rapidly that it was difficult for them to escape. In some parts, indeed, hundreds of families were obliged to flee from their homes, leaving all they had behind them, and here and there some of the affrighted fugitives were burnt alive."
At this moment a rush of wind came down the chimney, blowing the blaze of the fire towards the room. The wife and daughter, imagining for a moment that the woods were again on fire, made for the door, but the husband, explaining the cause of their terror, they resumed their work.
"Poor things," said the lumberer, "I dare say that what I have told you brings sad recollections to the minds of my wife and eldest daughter, who, with myself, had to fly from our home, at the time of the great fires." I felt so interested in his relation of the causes of the burnings, that I asked him to describe to me the particulars of his misfortunes at the time. "If Prudence and Polly," said he, looking towards his wife and daughter, "will promise to sit still, should another puff of smoke come down the chimney, I will do so." The good natured smile with which he accompanied this remark, elicited a return from the women, and he proceeded:—
"It is a difficult thing, Sir, to describe, but I will do my best to make your time pass pleasantly. We were sound asleep one night, in a cabin about a hundred miles from this, when about two hours before day, the snorting of the horses and lowing of the cattle which I had ranging in the woods suddenly wakened us. I took yon rifle, and went to the door to see what beast had caused the hubbub, when I was struck by the glare of light reflected on all the trees before me, as far as I could see through the woods. My horses were leaping about, snorting loudly, and the cattle ran among them with their tails raised straight over their backs. On going to the back of the house, I plainly heard the crackling made by the burning brushwood, and saw the flames coming towards us in a far extended line. I ran to the house, told my wife to dress herself and the child as quickly as possible, and take the little money we had, while I managed to catch and saddle the two best horses. All this was done in a very short time, for I guessed that every moment was precious to us.
"We then mounted, and made off from the fire. My wife, who is an excellent rider, stuck close to me; my daughter, who was then a small child, I took in one arm. When making off as I said, I looked back and saw that the frightful blaze was close upon us, and had already laid hold of the house. By good luck, there was a horn attached to my hunting clothes, and I blew it, to bring after us, if possible, the remainder of my live stock, as well as the dogs. The cattle followed for a while; but, before an hour had elapsed, they all ran as if mad through the woods, and that, Sir, was the last of them. My dogs, too, although at all other times extremely tractable, ran after the deer that in bodies sprung before us, as if fully aware of the death that was so rapidly approaching.
"We heard blasts from the horns of our neighbours, as we proceeded, and knew that they were in the same predicament. Intent on striving to the utmost to preserve our lives, I thought of a large lake, some miles off, which might possibly check the flames; and, urging my wife to whip up her horse, we set off at full speed, making the best way we could over the fallen trees and the brush heaps, which lay like so many articles placed on purpose to keep up the terrific fires that advanced with a broad front upon us.
By this time we could feel the heat; and we were afraid that our horses would drop every instant. A singular kind of breeze was passing over our heads, and the glare of the atmosphere shone over the day light. I was sensible of a slight faintness, and my wife looked pale. The heat had produced such a flush in the child's face, that when she turned towards either of us, our grief and perplexity were greatly increased. Ten miles, you know, are soon gone over on swift horses; but, notwithstanding this, when we reached the borders of the lake, covered with sweat and quite exhausted, our hearts failed us. The heat of the smoke was insufferable, and sheets of blazing fire flew over us in a manner beyond belief. We reached the shores, however, coasted the lake for a while, and got round to the lee side. There we gave up our horses, which we never saw again. Down among the rushes we plunged by the edge of the water, and laid ourselves flat, to wait the chance of escaping from being burnt or devoured. The water refreshed us, and we enjoyed the coolness.
"On went the fire, rushing and crashing through the woods. Such a sight may we never see! The heavens themselves, I thought, were frightened, for all above us was a red glare, mixed with clouds of smoke, rolling and sweeping away. Our bodies were cool enough, but our heads were scorching, and the child, who now seemed to understand the matter, cried so as nearly to break our hearts.
"The day passed on, and we became hungry. Many wild beasts came plunging into the water beside us, and others swam across to our side and stood still. Although faint and weary, I managed to shoot a porcupine, and we all tasted its flesh. The night passed I cannot tell you how. Smouldering fires covered the ground, and the trees stood like pillars of fire, or fell across each other. The stifling and sickening smoke still rushed over us, and the burnt cinders and ashes fell thick about us. How we got through that night I really cannot tell, for about some of it I remember nothing." Here the hunter paused, and took breath. The recital of his adventure seemed to have exhausted him. His wife proposed that we should have a bowl of milk, and the daughter having handed it to us, we each took a draught.
"Now," said he, "I will proceed. Towards morning, although the heat did not abate, the smoke became less, and blasts of fresh air sometimes made their way to us. When morning came, all was calm, but a dismal smoke still filled the air, and the smell seemed worse than ever. We were now cooled enough, and shivered as if in an ague fit; so we removed from the water, and went up to a burning log, where we warmed ourselves. What was to become of us I did hot know. My wife hugged the child to her breast, and wept bitterly; but God had preserved us through the worst of the danger, and the flames had gone past, so I thought it would be both ungrateful to Him, and unmanly to despair now. Hunger once more pressed upon us, but this was easily remedied. Several deer were still standing in the water, up to the head, and I shot one of them. Some of its flesh was soon roasted; and, after eating it, we felt wonderfully strengthened.
"By this time the blaze of the fire was beyond our sight, although the ground was still burning in many places, and it was dangerous to go among the burnt trees. After resting a while, and trimming ourselves, we prepared to commence our march. Taking up the child, I led the way over the hot ground and rocks; and, after two weary days and nights, during which we shifted in the best manner we could, we at last reached the "hard woods," which had been free of the fire. Soon after we came to a house, where we were kindly treated for a while. Since then, Sir, I have worked hard and constantly as a lumberer; but, thanks be to God, here we are safe, sound, and happy!"
THE BARN OWL.
STRIX FLAMMEA, LINN.
PLATE CLXXI. MALE AND FEMALE.
Not a single individual of the numerous persons who have described the birds of the United States, seems to have had opportunities of studying the habits of this beautiful Owl, and all that I find related respecting it is completely at variance with my observations. In describing the manners of this bird, I shall therefore use all due caution, although at the same time I shall not be too anxious to obtain credit in this, more than in some other matters, for which I have patiently borne the contradictions of the ignorant. The following extracts from my journals I hope will prove interesting.
St Augustine, East Florida, 8th November 1832.—Mr SIMMONS, the Keeper of the Fort, whom I had known at Henderson in Kentucky, having informed me that some boys had taken five young Barn Owls from a hole in one of the chimneys, I went with a ladder to see if I could procure some more. After much search I found only a single egg, which had been recently laid. It was placed on the bare stone of the wall, surrounded by fragments of small quadrupeds of various kinds. During our search I found a great number of the disgorged pellets of the Owl, among which some were almost fresh. They contained portions of skulls and bones of small quadrupeds unknown to me. I also found the entire skeleton of one of these Owls in excellent condition, and observing a curious bony crest-like expansion on the skull from the base of the cere above to that of the lower mandible, elevated nearly a quarter of an inch from the solid part of the skull, and forming a curve like a horse-shoe, I made an outline of it. On speaking to the officers of the garrison respecting this species of Owl, Lieutenant CONSTANTINE SMITH, a most amiable and intelligent officer of our army, informed me, that, in the months of July and August of that year, these birds bred more abundantly than at the date above stated. Other persons also assured me that, like the House Pigeon, the Barn Owl breeds at all seasons of the year in that part of the country. The statement was farther corroborated by Mr LEE WILLIAMS, a gentleman formerly attached to the topographical department, and who, I believe, has written an excellent account of the eastern portion of the peninsula of the Floridas.
Having arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, in October 1833, as soon as my family and myself were settled in the house of my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN, I received information that a pair of Owls (of the present species) had a nest in the upper story of an abandoned sugar-house in the city, when I immediately proceeded to the place, accompanied by Dr SAMUEL WILSON and WILLIAM KUNHARDT, Esq. We ascended cautiously to the place, I having pulled off my boots to prevent noise. When we reached it I found a sort of large garret filled with sugar-moulds, and lighted by several windows, one of which had two panes broken. I at once discovered the spot where the Owls were, by the hissing sounds of the young ones, and approached slowly and cautiously towards them, until within a few feet, when the parent bird seeing me, flew quickly toward the window, touched the frame of the broken panes, and glided silently through the aperture. I could not even afterwards observe the course of its flight. The young were three in number, and covered with down of a rich cream colour. They raised themselves on their legs, appeared to swell, and emitted a constant hissing sound, somewhat resembling that of a large snake when angry. They continued thus without altering their position, during the whole of our stay, which lasted about twenty minutes. They were on a scattered parcel of bits of straw, and surrounded by a bank made of their ejected pellets. Very few marks of their excrements were on the floor, and they were beautifully clean. A Cotton Rat, newly caught, and still entire, lay beside them, and must have been brought from a distance of several miles, that animal abounding in the rice-fields, none of which, I believe, are nearer than three or four miles. After making some arrangements with the Negro man who kept the house, we returned home. The eggs from which these young Owls had been hatched must have been laid six weeks before this date, or about the 15th of September.
On the 25th of November they had grown much in size, but none of the feathers had yet made their appearance, excepting the primaries, which were now about an inch long, thick, full of blood, and so tender that the least pressure of the fingers might have burst them. As the young grow more and more, the parents feed and attend to them less frequently than when very small, coming to them in the night only with food. This proves the caution of these birds in avoiding danger, and the faculty which the young possess of supporting abstinence in this middle state of their growth.
On the 7th of December I visited the Owls in company with my friend JOHN BACHMAN. We found them much grown; indeed, their primaries were well out; but their back and breast, and all their lower parts, were still thickly covered with down.
On the 6th of January I again saw them, but one of the young was dead, although in good condition. I was surprised that their food still continued to be composed entirely of small quadrupeds, and principally of the rat mentioned above.
My last visit to them was on the 18th of January. The two younger ones were now, to all appearance, fully grown, but were yet unable to fly. A few tufts of down still remained attached to the feathers on scattered parts of the body. I took them home. One was killed, and the skin preserved.
Now, these facts are the more interesting, that none of the numerous European authors with whom I am acquainted, have said a single word respecting the time of breeding of this species, but appear to be more intent on producing long lists of synonyms than on presenting the useful materials from which the student of nature can draw inferences. I shall therefore leave to them to say whether our species is, or is not, the same as the one found in the churches and ruins of Europe. Should it prove to be the same species, and if the European bird breeds, as I suspect it does, at so different a period of the year, the habits of the American Owl will form a kind of mystery in the operations of nature, as they differ not only from those of the bird in question, but of all other Owls with which I am acquainted.
My opinion is, that the Barn Owl of the United States is far more abundant in the Southern Districts than in the other parts. I never found it to the east of Pennsylvania, and only twice in that State, nor did I ever see, or even hear of one in the Western Country; but as soon as I have reached the maritime districts of the Carolinas, Georgia, the Floridas, and all along to Louisiana, the case has always been different. In Cuba they are quite abundant, according to the reports which I have received from that island. I am indeed almost tempted to believe, that the few which have been found in Pennsylvania were bewildered birds, surprised by the coldness of the winter, and perhaps unable to return to the Southern Districts. During my visit to Labrador I neither saw any of these birds, nor found a single person who had ever seen them, although the people to whom I spoke were well acquainted with the Snowy Owl, the Grey Owl, and the Hawk Owl.
THOMAS BUTLER KING, Esq., of St Simon's Island, Georgia, sent me two very beautiful specimens of this Owl, which had been caught alive. One died shortly after their arrival at Charleston; the other was in fine order when I received it. The person to whose care they were consigned, kept them for many weeks at Charleston before I reached that city, and told me that in the night their cries never failed to attract others of the same species, which he observed hovering about the place of their confinement.
This species is altogether nocturnal or crepuscular, and when disturbed during the day, flies in an irregular bewildered manner, as if at a loss how to look for a place of refuge. After long observation, I am satisfied that our bird feeds entirely on the smaller species of quadrupeds, for I have never found any portions of birds about their nests, nor even the remains of a single feather in the pellets which they regurgitate, and which are always formed of the bones and hair of quadrupeds.
Owls which approach to the diurnal species in their habits, or which hunt for food in the morning and evening twilight, are more apt to seize on objects which are themselves more diurnal than otherwise, or than the animals which I have found to form the constant food of our Barn Owl. Thus the Short-eared, the Hawk, the Fork-tailed, the Burrowing, and other Owls, which hunt either during broad day, or mostly towards evening, or at the return of day, will be found to feed more on mixed food than the present species. I have no doubt that the anatomist will detect corresponding differences in the eye, as they have already been found in the ear. The stomach is elongated, almost smooth, and of a deep gamboge-yellow; the intestines small, rather tough, and measuring one foot nine inches in length.
Its flight is light, regular, and much protracted. It passes through the air at an elevation of thirty or forty feet, in perfect silence, and pounces on its prey like a Hawk, often waiting for a fair opportunity from the branch of a tree, on which it alights for the purpose. During day, they are never seen, unless accidentally disturbed, when they immediately try to hide themselves. I am not aware of their having any propensity to fish, as the Snowy Owl has, nor have I ever seen one pursuing a bird. Ever careful of themselves, they retreat to the hollows of trees and such holes as they find about old buildings. When kept in confinement, they feed freely on any kind of flesh, and will stand for hours in the same position, frequently resting on one leg, while the other is drawn close to the body. In this position I watched one on my drawing table for six hours.
This species is never found in the depth of the forests, but confines itself to the borders of the woods around large savannas or old abandoned fields overgrown with briars and rank grass, where its food, which consists principally of field-mice, moles, rats, and other small quadrupeds, is found in abundance, and where large beetles and bats fly in the morning and evening twilight. It seldom occurs at a great distance from the sea. I am not aware that it ever emits any cry or note, as other owls are wont to do; but it produces a hollow hissing sound continued for minutes at a time, which has always reminded me of that given out by an opossum when about to die by strangulation.
When on the ground, this Owl moves by sidelong leaps, with the body much inclined downwards. If wounded in the wing, it yet frequently escapes through the celerity of its motions. Its hearing is extremely acute, and as it marks your approach, instead of throwing itself into an attitude of defence, as Hawks are wont to do, it instantly swells out its plumage, extends its wings and tail, hisses, and clacks its mandibles with force and rapidity. If seized in the hand, it bites and scratches, inflicting deep wounds with its bill and claws.
It is by no means correct to say that this Owl, or indeed any other, always swallows its prey entire: some which I have kept in confinement, have been seen tearing a young hare in pieces with their bills in the manner of hawks; and mice, small rats, or bats, are the largest objects that I have seen them gobble up entire, and not always without difficulty. From having often observed their feet and legs covered with fresh earth, I am inclined to think that they may use them to scratch mice or moles out of their shallow burrows, a circumstance which connects them with the Burrowing Owls of our western plains, which like them have very long legs. In a room their flight is so noiseless that one is surprised to find them removed from one place to another without having heard the least sound. They disgorge their pellets with difficulty, although generally at a single effort, but I did not observe that this action was performed at any regular period. I have mentioned these circumstances, to induce you to examine more particularly the habits of the Barn Owls of Europe and the Southern States of America, that the question of their identity may be decided.
The pair which I have represented were given to me by my friend RICHARD HARLAN, M.D., of Philadelphia. They had been brought from the south, and were fine adult birds in excellent plumage. I have placed a ground squirrel under the feet of one of them, as being an animal on which the species is likely to feed.
STRIX FLAMMEA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 133.—Lath. Index Ornith. vol. i. p. 60.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 38.
WHITE or BARN OWL, STRIX FLAMMEA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 57. pl. 50. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part ii. p. 139.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 1.
Bill short, compressed, deep, and strong, with a short cere at the base; upper mandible with its dorsal outline straight to the end of the cere, then curved, the sides nearly flat and perpendicular, the edges acute, the tip deflected, with a rounded but sharp-edged point; lower mandible, with the dorsal outline, convex, the sides convex, the edges arched and sharp, the extremity obliquely truncate. Nostrils large, oval, in the fore part of the cere. Head disproportionately large, as are the eyes and external ears. Neck also very short, body rather slender. Legs rather long; tarsus long, feathered, scaly at the lower part; toes large, the hind one short, the inner nearly as long as the middle one; the outer connected by a short web at the base; all covered above with series of small tuberculiform oblong scales, intermixed with a few bristles, and three broad scutella at the end; claws arched, long, rounded above, extremely sharp, that of the middle toe with an edge on the inner sides, which in old birds is transversely cracked.
Plumage very soft and downy, blended above, loose beneath. Long bristly feathers at the base of the bill stretching forwards. Eyes surrounded by circles of loose thin feathers; auricular feathers narrow, recurved and compact at the end, forming a ruff. Wings ample, long; second quill longest, third slightly shorter, first next in length; primaries incurvate towards the end, broad and rounded, the first, as usual in the genus, pectinated. Tail rather short, even, of twelve broad rounded feathers.
Bill pale greyish-yellow or light horn-colour. Iris bluish-black. Scales of the feet and claws brownish-yellow. The general colour above is greyish-brown, with light yellowish-red interspersed, produced by very minute mottling, each feather having towards the end a central streak of deep brown terminated by a small oblong greyish-white spot. The wings are similarly coloured; the secondary coverts and outer edges of the primary coverts with a large proportion of light brownish-red; the quills and tail transversely barred with brown. The face is white, tinged with red, especially near the inner angle of the eye; the ruff of compact feathers light brownish-red. The under parts are pale brownish-red, fading anteriorly into white, each feather having a small dark-brown spot at the tip.
Length 17 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 6 inches; bill along the back 1-8/12; tarsus 3-2/12, middle toe and claw 2-7/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 2.
The female resembles the male, but is considerably larger.
Length 18 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 8 inches.
This bird is so closely allied to the Barn Owl of Europe, that it is very difficult to characterize the two by any comparative marks. The principal differences are to be found in the size and colouring. The American bird is much larger than the European, as will be seen by the following measurements taken from an adult male.
Length 14 inches, extent of wings 3 feet; bill along the back 1-6/12; tarsus 2⅜, middle toe and claw 2-1/12.
The colouring of the American is much darker than that of the European bird, and in the former the ruff is red, whereas it is usually white in the latter; but as both birds present variations of colour, no stress can be laid on this circumstance. The difference that strikes one most on comparing the two, is the greater size of the American bird, and more especially of its tarsus and toes.
On the whole, although I suspect they will ultimately be found to be different species, I am unable to point out any satisfactory distinctions.
THE GROUND SQUIRREL.
With the exception of the Flying Squirrel, we have no small quadruped more interesting than this. It occurs in all parts of the United States, and being so beautifully marked in its colouring, is known to every body. It seems to me, by the liveliness of its motions, to be among quadrupeds what the Wren is among birds; for, like it, the Ground Squirrel, full of vivacity, plays as it were with the utmost grace and agility among the rocky debris or the uprooted stumps of trees; and its chatter, although less musical than that of the Little Winter Wren, excites a peculiar pleasure as it comes on the ear. I think I see him as he runs before me with the speed of thought, his tail quite erect, his chops distended with the produce of the woods, until he reaches the entrance of his retreat. Now he stands upright, clatters his little chops, and as I move onwards a single step, he disappears in a moment. Stone after stone I have removed from the fence, but in vain, for beneath the whole the cunning creature has formed its deep and circuitous burrow. With my hatchet I cut the tangled roots, and as I follow the animal into its innermost recesses, I hear its angry voice. I am indeed within a few inches of his last retreat, and now I see his large dark protruded eye; but at this moment out he rushes with such speed that it would be vain to follow him. He has twenty burrows all ready prepared, and, delighted with his foresight and sagacity, I willingly leave him unmolested in that to which he has now betaken himself.
The Ground Squirrel varies greatly in its external appearance in different parts of the United States. In the Southern Districts it is smaller than to the eastward, and the farther north you go the lighter are its tints, the differences being at least as great as those between the Barn Owl of America and that of Europe. But the variations are confined to size and intensity of colouring, nor can I perceive any differences indicative of specific distinction. I am not inclined to consider variations of colour sufficient to constitute species, for instance, in the case of the Chimney Swallow of Europe and the Barn Swallow of America; nor is there any reason for believing that very considerable differences in size may not exist in the same species; indeed the fact is very apparent among water birds especially.
THE BLUE-HEADED PIGEON.
COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA, LINN.
PLATE CLXXII. MALE AND FEMALE.
A few of these birds migrate each spring from the Island of Cuba to the Keys of Florida, but are rarely seen, on account of the deep tangled woods in which they live. Early in May 1832, while on a shooting excursion with the commander of the United States Revenue Cutter, the Marion, I saw a pair of them on the western side of Key West. They were near the water, picking gravel, but on our approaching them they ran back into the thickets, which were only a few yards distant. Several fishermen and wreckers informed us that they were more abundant on the "Mule Keys;" but although a large party and myself searched these islands for a whole day, not one did we discover there. I saw a pair which I was told had been caught when young on the latter Keys, but I could not obtain any other information respecting them, than that they were fed on cracked corn and rice, which answered the purpose well.
I have represented three of these Pigeons on the ground, with some of the creeping plants which grew in the place where I saw the pair mentioned above.
COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 282.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 698.
BLUE-HEADED TURTLE, Lath. Synops. vol. iv. p. 651.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXII.
Bill straight, and short, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, a convex declinate obtuse tip, of which the margins are acute and overlapping; lower mandible with the angle near the extremity, which is compressed and rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed; the general form robust, resembling that of many partridges. Legs short and of moderate length; tarsus covered anteriorly and laterally with quincuncial subhexagonal scales, rounded and scaly behind; toes scutellate, free, margined; claws rather small, arched, compressed, flat beneath, obtuse.
Plumage compact all over. Wings short, rounded, third, fourth and fifth quills longest and almost equal; second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth slightly cut out on the outer web. Tail of moderate length, slightly rounded, of twelve broad rounded feathers.
Bill bright blue above, the fleshy parts at the base bright carmine. Iris very dark brown. Scales of the feet carmine, the interspaces white; claws bluish-grey. The general colour of the plumage above is a rich deep chocolate, slightly tinged with olive, beneath brownish-red, lighter on the middle of the breast, the sides and under tail coverts approaching to the tint of the back. The upper part of the head bright blue, encircled by a band of deep black, broader on the occiput, and very narrow in front; a band of white under the eye meeting its fellow on the chin, a broad patch of black on the fore neck, margined with white beneath, and on the sides spotted with bright blue.
Length 12¼ inches, extent of wings 17½; bill along the ridge ½, along the edge 1; tarsus 1¼, middle toe 1¼; weight 10¼ oz.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXII. Fig. 2.
The Female is rather less, but in external appearance resembles the male.
The beautiful Cyperus represented in this plate is quite abundant on all the dry Keys of the Floridas, and is also found in many parts of the interior of the peninsula.
THE BARN SWALLOW.
HIRUNDO RUSTICA, LINN.
PLATE CLXXIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.
There is a pleasure known but to few, a pleasure which I have often enjoyed and still enjoy, whenever an opportunity occurs. It is when the heats of summer have already swelled the fruits of our fields, our gardens, and our orchards; when Nature herself benignantly smiles on the rich scenery which she has thus embellished; when the husbandman guides the healthful labours of his sons, and wields the instruments of his humble but important calling from the early dawn to the noontide hour of repose; when the bee herself for a while retires from the honeyed flower, which now languishingly droops on its tender stem; when the cattle recline beneath the broad shade of some majestic tree, and the labourers retire to the banks of some favourite brook to enjoy their frugal meal, and quench their thirst from the limpid waters. Now all is silent, sweet sleep closes their eyes, and nature seems to pause in her labours. But no sooner have the meridian hours passed, than all return to their occupations, and again every thing is full of life and activity.
Observe that passing Swallow, how swiftly she glides around us, how frequently she comes and goes, how graceful her flight, how pleasant her musical twitterings, how happy she seems to be! Now she has again entered the barn. I will follow her into her summer abode, and laying myself down on the fragrant new-mown hay, watch her motions in silence. Ah! over my head a nest is firmly fixed to each rafter; nay on this and that are placed several, and the barn is filled with swallows and their melodies. Happy and charming little creatures! There a female sits on her eggs, and is receiving a store of insects from the mouth of her mate. Having fed her, he solaces her with a soft chattering voice, and away he goes in search of more food. Here is another nest filled to the brim with young birds trimming their new clothing, and shaking their little wings, while their parents approach with a supply of food. See how they open their yellow throats! There, how busily are these two birds occupied in sticking layer after layer of damp sandy earth mixed with bits of grass against the beam! Dear things! their old tenement has crumbled and fallen down, or they are unusually late; but going and returning so often will surely enable them to accomplish their undertaking. Leaving them for a moment, I see some old birds meeting their young on wing. How cleverly have the little things received the proffered fly! and now away for more speeds the happy parent. I wish I could count the number now in the barn; but I cannot unless I ascertain first how many young there are, and then double the quantity of nests to get the number of their parents. I have done so:—there are more than a hundred.
Night now draws near, the sun is beneath the horizon; the farmer has closed the barn door, the Swallows enter by the air-holes; there is still enough of light to enable them to find their nests, and now each has alighted on the edge, and addresses itself to rest. Here are no bickerings, no quarrels; all is peace and harmony, and now, the labours of the day ended, how quiet is their repose! I too may take a nap among the fragrant hay, and dream of the joys of my distant home.
Day-light approaches from the east. All is calm, pure, and delightful. The little birds shoot forth from their retreats, and with songs of joy commence their pleasant labours. What a happy world are they in! Here a smart fellow roguishly challenges his neighbour in all the pride of his full song, or listens for a while to the gentler notes of his beloved mate, while she sits on her pearly egglets. Others have already resorted to the fields, the meadows, or the river's side; and there I will follow them. The dew glitters on every leaf and blade, and the bright sun throws his glory over the face of nature, which joyously spreads out all her treasures before him. The husbandman, who is seen advancing toward the scene of his labours, observes the flight of the Swallows, and assures himself that there will be a continuance of fair feather. Numberless insects have already left their place of rest, and, like the birds, are seen in search of food, swiftly moving through the calm and balmy air. She of the forked-tail follows them with gliding motion, and with unerring dexterity seizes one and another. She seems hardly to exert herself on this occasion; for all her movements, upwards, downwards, or sidewise, are performed with perfect ease, and now she sweeps along like a meteor. How many circuits she makes in the hour is more than I can tell, but numerous indeed they must be, when every one knows that at her ordinary speed she can travel a mile in a minute.
Now, towards the sandy shores of the lake or river, she betakes herself. She alights, and with delicate steps, aiding her motions by gentle flappings of her wings, she advances towards the edge, takes a few drops, plumes herself, and returns to her nest, filling as she flies her wide mouth with insects. Should her nest be not finished, or need some repair, she carries a pellet of tempered earth in her bill, or picks up a feather that has been shed by a goose or a fowl, or from the hay carries off a stem of long grass to mix with the mortar. As the heat becomes oppressive to all animals save herself, she passes and repasses round the cattle under the shady trees, and snaps off each teasing insect. Now on the fence she alights by the side of her offspring, or teaches them to settle on the slender dry twig of some convenient tree. There they plume themselves, chatter, and rest for a while, until, sorry to have lost so much time, they launch into the air, to continue their sport.
The summer has now closed, and the Swallows, young and old, assemble on the roof of the barn, and in a few days are joined by many others, reared in humbler situations. Each parent bird perhaps tells her young that, before dismal winter cramps the insects, they must escape to some far distant land, where the genial heat continues unabated. The talk becomes general, and day after day increases. The course of the journey is pointed out to each inexperienced traveller, by means of short excursions through the air. At length a chill night comes, the following brings a slight frost, the time has arrived, and on the next bright morning the flocks rise high above the trees, and commence their journey.
The Barn Swallow makes its first appearance at New Orleans, from the middle of February to the first of March. They do not arrive in flocks, but apparently in pairs, or a few together, and immediately resort to the places where they have bred before, or where they have been reared. Their progress over the Union depends much on the state of the weather; and I have observed a difference of a whole month, owing to the varying temperature, in their arrival at different places. Thus in Kentucky, Virginia, or Pennsylvania, they now and then do not arrive until the middle of April or the beginning of May. In milder seasons, they reach Massachusetts and the eastern parts of Maine by the 10th of the latter month, when you may rest assured that they are distributed over all the intermediate districts. So hardy does this species seem to be, that I observed it near Eastport in Maine, on the 7th May 1833, in company with the Republican or Cliff Swallow, pursuing its different avocations, while masses of ice hung from every cliff, and the weather felt cold to me. I saw them in the Gut of Cansso on the 10th of June, and on the Magdeleine Islands on the 13th of the same month. They were occupied in building their nests in the open cupola of a church. Not one, however, was observed in Labrador, although many Sand Martins were seen there. On our return, I found at Newfoundland some of the present species, and of the Cliff Swallow, all of which were migrating southward on the 14th of August, when Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at 41°.
In spring, the Barn Swallow is welcomed by all, for she seldom appears before the final melting of the snows and the commencement of mild weather, and is looked upon as the harbinger of summer. As she never commits depredations on any thing that men consider as their own, every body loves her, and, as the child was taught by his parents, so the man teaches his offspring, to cherish her. About a week after the arrival of this species, and when it has already resorted to its wonted haunts, examined its last year's tenement, or made choice of a place to which it may securely fix its nest, it begins either to build or to deposit its eggs.
The nest is attached to the side of a beam or rafter in a barn or shed, under a bridge, or sometimes even in an old well, or in a sink hole, such as those found in the Kentucky barrens. Whenever the situation is convenient and affords sufficient room, you find several nests together, and in some instances I have seen seven or eight within a few inches of each other; nay, in some large barns I have counted forty, fifty, or more. The male and the female both betake themselves to the borders of creeks, rivers, ponds, or lakes, where they form small pellets of mud or moist earth, which they carry in their bill to the chosen spot, and place against the wood, the wall, or the rock, as it may chance to be. They dispose of these pellets in regular layers, mixing, especially with the lower, a considerable quantity of long slender grasses, which often dangle for several inches beneath the bottom of the nest. The first layers are short, but the rest gradually increase in length, as the birds proceed upwards with their work, until they reach the top, when the fabric resembles the section of an inverted cone, the length being eight inches, and the greatest diameter six, while that from the wall or other flat surface to the outside of the shell is three and a half, and the latter is fully an inch thick. I have never observed in a newly finished nest, the expansion of the upper layer mentioned by WILSON, although I have frequently seen it in one that has been repaired or enlarged. The average weight of such a nest as I have described is more than two pounds, but there is considerable difference as to size between different nests, some being shorter by two or three inches, and proportionally narrow at the top. These differences depend much on the time the birds have to construct their tenement previous to depositing the eggs. Now and then I have seen some formed at a late period, that were altogether destitute of the intermixture of grass with the mud observed in the nest described above, which was a perfect one, and had occupied the birds seven days in constructing it, during which period they laboured from sunrise until dusk, with an intermission of several hours in the middle of the day. Within the shell of mud is a bed, several inches thick, of slender grasses arranged in a circular form, over which is placed a quantity of large soft feathers. I never saw one of these nests in a chimney, nor have I ever heard of their occurring in such situations, they being usually occupied by the American Swift, which is a more powerful bird, and may perhaps prevent them from entering. The eggs are from four to six, rather small and elongated, semitranslucent, white, and sparingly spotted all over with reddish-brown. The period of incubation is thirteen days, and both sexes sit, although not for the same length of time, the female performing the greater part of the task. Each provides the other with food on this occasion, and both rest at night beside each other in the nest. In South Carolina, where a few breed, the nest is formed in the beginning of April, and in Kentucky about the first of May.
When the young have attained a considerable size, the parents, who feed them with much care and affection, roost in the nearest convenient place. This species seldom raises more than two broods in the Southern and Middle Districts, and never, I believe, more than one in Maine and farther north. The little ones, when fully fledged, are enticed to fly by their parents, who, shortly after their first essays, lead them to the sides of fields, roads or rivers, where you may see them alight, often not far from each other, on low walls, fence-stakes and rails, or the withered twigs or branches of some convenient tree, generally in the vicinity of a place in which the old birds can easily procure food for them. As the young improve in flying, they are often fed on the wing by the parent birds. On such occasions, when the old and young birds meet, they both rise obliquely in the air, and come close together, when the food is delivered in a moment, and they separate to continue their gambols. In the evening the family retires to the breeding place, to which it usually resorts until the period of their migration.
About the middle of August, the old and young birds form more extensive associations, flying about in loose flocks, which are continually increasing, and alighting in groups on tall trees, churches, court-houses, or barns, where they may be seen for hours pluming and dressing themselves, or removing the small insects which usually infest them. At such times they chirp almost continually, and make sallies of a few hundred yards, returning to the same place. These meetings and rambles often occupy a fortnight, but generally by the 10th of September great flocks have set out for the south, while others are seen arriving from the north. The dawn of a fair morning is the time usually chosen by these birds for their general departure, which I have no reason to believe is prevented by a contrary wind. They are seen moving off without rising far above the tops of the trees or towns over which they pass; and I am of opinion that most of those large parties usually migrate either along the shores of the Atlantic, or along the course of large streams, such places being most likely to afford them suitable retreats at night, when they betake themselves to the reeds and other tall grasses, whenever it is convenient to do so, although I have witnessed their migration during a fine clear and quiet evening. Should they meet with a suitable spot, they alight close together, and for a while twitter loudly, as if to invite approaching flocks or stragglers to join them. In such places I have seen great flocks of this species in East Florida;—and here, reader, I may tell you that the fogs of that latitude seem not unfrequently to bewilder their whole phalanx. One morning, whilst on board the United States Schooner "Spark," Lieutenant commandant PIERCEY and the officers directed my attention to some immense flocks of these birds flying only a few feet above the water for nearly an hour, and moving round the vessel as if completely lost. But when the morning is clear, these Swallows rise in a spiral manner from the reeds to the height of thirty or forty yards, extend their ranks, and continue their course.
I found flocks of Barn Swallows near St Augustine for several days in succession, until the beginning of December; but after the first frost none were to be seen. These could not have removed many degrees farther south for want of proper food, and I suspect that numbers of them spend the whole winter along the south coast of the Gulf of Mexico.
The flight of this species is not less interesting than any other of its characteristics. It probably surpasses in speed that of any other species of the feathered tribes, excepting the Humming Bird. In fine calm weather their circuits are performed at a considerable elevation, with a lightness and ease that are truly admirable. They play over the river, the field, or the city with equal grace, and during spring and summer you might imagine their object was to fill the air around them with their cheerful twitterings. When the weather lowers, they move more swiftly in tortuous meanderings over the meadows, and through the streets of the towns; they pass and repass, now close to the pavement, now along the walls of the buildings, here and there snapping an insect as they glide along with a motion so rapid that you can scarcely follow them with the eye. But try:—there she skims against the wind over the ruffled stream; up she shoots, seizes an insect, and wheeling round, sails down the breeze with a rapidity that carries her out of your sight almost in a moment. Noon arrived, and the weather being sultry, round the horse or the cow she passes a thousand times, seizing on each tormenting fly. Now she seems fain to enter the wood, so close along its edge does she pursue her prey; but spying a Crow, a Raven, a Hawk or an Eagle, off she shoots with doubled speed after the marauder, and the next instant is seen lashing, as it were, the object of her anger with admirable dexterity, after which, full of gaiety and pride the tiny thing returns towards the earth, forming to herself a most tortuous path in the air.
On the ground the movements of this Swallow are by no means awkward, although, when compared with those of other birds, they seem rather hampered. It walks by very short steps, and aids itself with its wings. Should it be necessary to remove to the distance of a few yards, it prefers flying. When alighted on a twig, it shews a peculiar tremulous motion of the wings and tail.
The song of our Barn Swallow resembles that of the Chimney Swallow of England so much that I am unable to discern the smallest difference. Both sing on the wing and when alighted, and the common tweet which they utter when flying off is precisely the same in both. Their food also is similar; at least that of our bird consists entirely of insects, some being small coleoptera, the crustaceous parts of which are disgorged in roundish pellets scarcely the size of a small pea.
I have represented a pair of our Barn Swallows in the most perfect spring plumage, together with a nest taken from one of the rafters of a barn in the State of New Jersey, in which there was at least a score of them.
HIRUNDO RUSTICA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 343.
HIRUNDO RUFA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 64.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 601.
BARN SWALLOW, HIRUNDO AMERICANA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 34. pl. 38. fig. 1, 2.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.- Amer. part ii. p. 329.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 1.
Bill very short, feeble, much depressed and very broad at the base, compressed towards the tip, upper mandible with the ridge straight and sloping, the sides towards the end convex, the edges sharp and overlapping, having a slight notch close upon the tip, which is very small, rather obtuse, and declinate; lower mandible flattish, the edges inflected, the tip acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, with a membrane above. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet very small and feeble, tarsus very short, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes free, lateral nearly equal, the outer united as far as the second joint; claws shortish, arched, much compressed, very acute.
Plumage rather compact and shining above, blended and with ordinary lustre beneath. Wings very long and narrow, primaries narrow and tapering to a rounded point, the first longest, the rest gradually diminishing; secondaries very short, truncato-emarginate.
Bill black. Iris hazel. Feet purplish-black. Anterior part of the forehead bright chestnut; the rest of the head, the hind neck, back, rump and smaller wing-coverts glossy deep steel-blue. Quills and tail brownish-black, the latter with a white spot on the inner web of each feather, excepting the two middle ones. Throat bright chestnut; a broad band of black glossed with steel-blue on the lower part of the neck, joining the dark colour of the upper parts. The rest of the lower parts light brownish-red.
Length 7 inches, extent of wings 13; bill along the back 3/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 4/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 2.
The Female differs from the Male only in being generally paler beneath.
The young bird fully fledged has the red of the forehead and throat paler, the band on the forepart of the breast brownish-black, without gloss, and the rest of the lower parts white tinged with red.
There is considerable diversity in the colouring of the under parts of this bird. Frequently there is a broad band of steel-blue across the neck or fore part of the breast, in other cases this band is narrow, or interrupted in the middle, or wanting, as in the individuals represented in the plate. The rufous colour of the breast, sides and belly varies from reddish-white in young birds to bright brownish-red in old ones. In the former case it is singular to the colour of the European Chimney Swallow, which, on the other hand, never has those parts so deeply tinted as in the latter case. The bill and feet of the two are precisely similar as are the colours of the upper parts; but in the European bird, the dark band on the fore part of the breast is much broader, the first and second primaries are almost equal, although the first is longest, and the lateral tail-feathers are more elongated. These differences do not seem to me to be sufficient to distinguish the two birds as species, and the similarity of their habits renders them too nearly allied to be separated with propriety.
The differences in colour between the European Chimney Swallow and the American Barn Swallow, are analogous to those between the Barn Owl of the former and that of the latter country. The Swallows and the Owls may be distinct species; but I see no reason for separation in the one case more than in the other; and if the so called Hirundo Americana be distinguished from the H. rustica, the Strix flammea ought to be distinguished from the American Owl, which might in that case be named Strix Americana. But let the differences first be shewn.
THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER.
MUSCICAPA COOPERI, NUTTALL. TYRANNUS BOREALIS, SWAINS.
PLATE CLXXIV. MALE AND FEMALE.
It is difficult, for me at least, to understand how we should now have in the United States so many birds which, not more than twenty years ago, were nowhere to be found in those countries. Of these new-comers the Olive-sided Flycatcher is one, and one, too, whose size and song render it very conspicuous among its kindred. That birds should thus suddenly make their appearance, and at once diffuse themselves over almost the whole of the country, is indeed a very curious fact; and were similar changes to take place in the other tribes of animals, and in other countries, the arrangements of systematic writers would have to undergo corresponding revolutions, a circumstance which would tend to add to the confusion arising from the continual shiftings, combinations, disseverings, abrasions of names, and alterations of method, which the interpreters of nature are pleased to dignify with the name of science.
The discovery of this species is due to my amiable and learned friend NUTTALL, part of whose account of its habits I have pleasure in laying before you. When, a few years ago, I rambled, as I do now, in quest of knowledge, scarcely an individual could be found in the United States conversant with birds. At the present day there are several, with whom I am personally acquainted, who have fully proved their zeal and activity, by their discoveries and descriptions. It is enough for me to mention here the well known names of BONAPARTE, NUTTALL, COOPER, BACHMAN, PICKERING, OAKS, and TOWNSEND, whose labours demonstrate the rapid advance of science in our country, and whose works will endure for ages.
On the 8th of August 1832, while walking out from Boston towards the country seat of the Honourable THOMAS H. PERKINS, along with my friend NUTTALL, we were suddenly saluted with the note of this bird. As I had never seen it, I leaped over the fence beside us, and cautiously approached the tree on which a male was perched and singing. Desiring my friend to go in search of a gun, I watched the motions of the devoted bird. He returned with a large musket, a cow's horn filled with powder, and a handful of shot nearly as large as peas; but just as I commenced charging this curious piece, I discovered that it was flintless! We were nearly a mile distant from Mr PERKINS' house, but as we were resolved to have the bird, we proceeded to it with all dispatch, procured a gun, and returning to the tree, found the Flycatcher, examined its flight and manners for a while, and at length shot it. As the representative of a species, I made a drawing of this individual, which you will find copied in the plate indicated above. But now let us attend to NUTTALL'S account.
"This undescribed species, which appertains to the group of Pewees, was obtained in the woods of Sweet Auburn, in this vicinity, by Mr JOHN BETHUNE of Cambridge, on the 7th of June 1830. This and the second specimen acquired soon afterwards, were females on the point of incubation. A third individual of the same sex was killed on the 21st of June 1831. They were all of them fat, and had their stomach filled with torn fragments of wild bees, wasps, and other similar insects. I have watched the motions of two other living individuals, who appeared tyrannical and quarrelsome, even with each other. The attack was always accompanied with a whining querulous twitter. Their dispute was apparently, like that of savages, about the rights of their respective hunting-grounds. One of the birds, the female, whom I usually saw alone, was uncommonly sedentary. The territory she seemed determined to claim was circumscribed by the tops of a cluster of Virginian junipers or red cedars, and an adjoining elm and decayed cherry-tree. From this sovereign station, in the solitude of a barren and sandy piece of forest, adjoining Sweet Auburn, she kept a sharp look-out for passing insects, and pursued them with great vigour and success as soon as they appeared, sometimes chasing them to the ground, and generally resuming her perch with an additional mouthful, which she swallowed at leisure. On ascending to her station, she occasionally quivered her wings and tail, erected her blowzy cap, and kept up a whistling, oft-repeated, whining call, of pŭ, pŭ, then varied to pŭ, pip, and pip, pŭ, also at times pip, pip, pŭ, pip, pip, pip, pŭ, pŭ, pip, or tŭ, tŭ, tŭ, and sometimes tŭ, tŭ. This shrill, pensive, and quick whistle, sometimes dropped almost to a whisper, or merely pŭ. The tone is, in fact, much like that of the phŭ, phŭ, phŭ, of the Fish Hawk. The male, however, besides this note, at long intervals had a call of eh phèbēē, or h'phebéă, almost exactly in the tone of the circular tin whistle or bird call, being loud, shrill, and guttural at the commencement. The nest of this pair I at length discovered in the horizontal branch of a tall red cedar, forty or fifty feet from the ground. It was formed much in the manner of the King-bird's, externally made of interlaced dead twigs of the cedar, internally of wiry stolons of the common cinquefoil, dry grass, and some fragments of branching lichen or usnea. It contained three young, and had probably four eggs. The eggs had been hatched about the 20th of June, so that the pair had arrived in this vicinity about the close of May. The young remained in the nest no less than twenty-three days, and were fed from the first on beetles and perfect insects, which appeared to have been wholly digested, without any regurgitation. Towards the close of this protracted period, the young could fly with all the celerity of their parents, and they probably went to and from the nest before abandoning it. The male was at this time extremely watchful, and frequently followed me from his usual residence, after my paying him a visit, nearly half a mile. These birds, which I watched on several successive days, were no way timid, and allowed me for some time previous to visiting their nest, to investigate them and the premises they had chosen, without showing any sign of alarm or particular observation."
I received from my friend the following additional account, in a letter dated September 12. 1833. "Something serious has happened to our pair of the new Flycatchers (Muscicapa Cooperi), which have for three years at least, bred and passed the summer in the grounds of Mount Auburn. This summer they were no longer seen. It is true they were not very well used last year; for, in the first place, I took two of the four eggs they had laid, when they deserted the nest, and soon, within little more than a stone's-throw, they renewed their labours, and made a second, which was also visited; but from this I believe they raised a small brood. The nest, as before, was placed on a horizontal branch of a red cedar, and made chiefly of the smallest interlaced twigs collected from the dead limbs of the same tree, in all cases so thin, like that of the Tanager, as to let the light readily through its interstices. An egg you have, which, as to size, so completely resembles that of the Wood Pewee, as to make one and the same description serve for both; that is to say, a yellowish cream-white, with spots of reddish-brown, of a light and dark shade. All the nests, three in number, were within 150 yards of each other respectively. I saw another pair once in a small piece of dry pine wood in Mount Auburn one year; but they did not stay long. A third pair I saw the summer before the last, on the edge of the marsh towards West Cambridge Pond; these appeared resident. The next pair I had the rare good fortune to see in your company, by which means they have been masterly figured. It is beyond a doubt M. borealis of RICHARDSON, but I believe Mr COOPER and myself discovered it previously, at least before the appearance of Dr RICHARDSON'S Northern Zoology."
In the course of my journey farther eastward, I found this species here and there in Massachusetts and the State of Maine, as far as Mars Hill, and subsequently on the Magdeleine Islands, and the coast of Labrador; but I have not yet been able to discover its line of migration, or the time of its arrival in the Southern States.
MUSCICAPA INORNATA, Nuttall, Nat. Sci. Philad.
TYRANNUS BOREALIS, NORTHERN TYRANT, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 141.
OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER or PE-PE, MUSCICAPA COOPERI, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 282.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXIV. Fig. 1.
Bill of moderate length, stout, straight, broad at the base, and tapering, compressed only close to the tip; both mandibles with the dorsal line very slightly convex, the sides rounded, the edges nearly straight, sharp, inclinate; a slight notch close to the small deflected tip. Nostrils basal, lateral, roundish, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather slender. Feet short; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few broad scutella; toes of moderate size, the hind one not proportionally larger, the inner a little shorter than the outer; claws rather long, arched, much compressed, very acute.
Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Strong bristles at the base of the upper mandible. Wings rather long, second quill longest, first longer than third, second and third slightly cut out on the outer web; the primaries tapering and rounded. Tail of ordinary length, emarginate, of twelve rounded feathers.
Bill blackish-brown above, the lower mandible brownish-yellow, with the tip dusky. Iris dark hazel. Feet dusky, claws brownish-black. The whole upper parts, with the cheeks and sides of the neck, dusky brown; quills and tail blackish-brown, the secondaries margined with brownish-white. A stripe of greyish-white runs down the fore-neck from the bill, and joins the white of the breast and abdomen, the latter being tinged with yellow; the sides dusky grey.
Length 7½ inches, extent of wings 12¾; bill along the ridge 8/12, along the edge 1-3/12; tarsus 7/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXIV. Fig. 2.
The Female resembles the Male, but has the lower parts of a duller hue.
This species is nearly allied to the King Bird and the Grey Tyrant, from both of which, however, it is readily distinguished.
THE BALSAM OR SILVER FIR.
PINUS BALSAMEA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 504. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 639.—ABIES BALSAMIFERA, Mich. Fl. Amer. vol. ii. p. 207.—MONŒCIA MONADELPHIA, Linn. CONIFERÆ, Juss.
This beautiful fir is abundant in the State of Maine, where I made a drawing of the twig before you. It grows on elevated rocky ground, often near streams or rivers. Its general form is conical, the lower branches coming off horizontally near the ground, and the succeeding ones becoming gradually more oblique, until the uppermost are nearly erect. The leaves and cones become so resinous in autumn, that, in climbing one of these trees, a person is besmeared with the excreted juice, which is then white, transparent, and almost fluid. The leaves are solitary, flat, emarginate, or entire, bright green above, and glaucous or silvery beneath; the cones cylindrical, erect, with short obovate, serrulate, mucronate scales. It is abundant in the British provinces, the Northern States, and in the higher parts of the Alleghany Mountains. The height does not exceed fifty feet. The bark is smooth, the wood light and resinous. The resin is collected and sold under the names of Balm of Gilead and Canada Balsam.
NUTTALL'S SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN.
TROGLODYTES BREVIROSTRIS, NUTTALL.
PLATE CLXXV. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.
I hope, kind reader, you will approve of the liberty which I have taken in prefixing the name of the learned NUTTALL to the present species, which was discovered by his indefatigable and enthusiastic devotion to science, in a country where WILSON, BONAPARTE, BACHMAN, PICKERING, COOPER, SAY, and others had already exerted themselves to the utmost in their endeavours to complete its diversified and interesting Fauna. I hope, too, that you will allow me to present you with the history of this sweet little inhabitant of our freshwater marshes, as given by my friend, who at this moment is toiling with all imaginable spirit, far towards the west, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. In granting my request, you will confer on me a favour, truly acceptable, as it enables me to testify the friendship which I feel towards him of whom I have spoken.
"This amusing and not unmusical little species inhabits the lowest marshy meadows, but does not frequent the reed flats. It never visits cultivated grounds, and is at all times shy, timid, and suspicious. It arrives in this part of Massachusetts about the close of the first week in May, and retires to the south by the middle of September at farthest, probably by night, as it is never seen in progress, so that its northern residence is only prolonged about four months.
"Its presence is announced by its lively and quaint song of tsh, tship, ă dăy, dăy, dăy, dăy, delivered in haste and earnest at short intervals, either when he is mounted on a tuft of sedge, or while perched on some low bush near the skirt of the marsh. The tsh, tship is uttered with a strong aspiration, and the remainder with a guttural echo. While thus engaged, his head and tail are alternately depressed and elevated, as if the little odd performer were fixed on a pivot. Sometimes the note varies to tschip, tschip, tshia, dh, dh, dh, dh, the latter part being a pleasant trill.
"When approached too closely, which not often happened, as he permitted me to come within two or three feet of his station, his song becomes harsh and more hurried, like tship, dă, dă, dă, and de, de, de, de, d, d, dh, or tshe, de, de, de, de, rising into an angry petulant cry, which is also sometimes a low hoarse and scolding daigh, daigh. Then again on invading the nest, the sound sinks to a plaintive tsh, tship, tsh, tship. In the early part of the breeding season, the male is very lively and musical, and in his best humour he tunes up a tship, tship, tship, ā dee, with a pleasantly warbled and reiterated de. At a later period, another male uttered little else than a hoarse and guttural daigh, hardly louder than the croaking of a frog. When approached, they repeatedly descend into the grass, where they spend much of their time, in quest of insects, chiefly crustaceous, which, with moths, constitute their principal food. Here unseen they still sedulously utter their quaint warbling; and tship, tship, a day, day, day, day, may, for about a month from their arrival, be heard pleasantly echoing on a fine morning, from the borders of every low marsh, and wet meadow, provided with tussocks of sedge grass, in which they indispensably dwell, for a time engaged in the cares and gratification of raising and providing for their young.
"The nest of the Short-billed Marsh Wren is made wholly of dry or partly green sedge, bent usually from the top of the grassy tuft in which the fabric is situated. With much ingenuity and labour these simple materials are loosely entwined together into a spherical form, with a small and rather obscure entrance left on the side. A thin lining is sometimes added to the whole, of the linty fibres of the silk-weed, or some other similar material. The eggs, pure white, and destitute of spots, are probably from six to eight. In a nest containing seven eggs, there were three of them larger than the rest, and perfectly fresh, while the four smaller were far advanced towards hatching. From this circumstance we may fairly infer that two different individuals had laid in the same nest, a circumstance more common among wild birds than is generally imagined. This is also the more remarkable, as the male of this species, like many other Wrens, is much employed in making nests, of which not more than one in three or four are ever occupied by the females!
"The summer limits of this species, confounded with the ordinary Marsh Wren, are yet unascertained; and it is singular to remark how near it approaches to another species inhabiting the temperate parts of the southern hemisphere in America, namely the Sylvia platensis, figured and indicated by BUFFON. The description, however, of this bird, obtained by COMMERSON, on the banks of La Plata, is too imperfect for certainty. It was found probably in a marshy situation, as it entered the boat in which he was sailing. The time of arrival and departure of this species, agreeing exactly with the appearance of the Marsh Wren of WILSON, inclines me to believe that it also exists in Pennsylvania."
While in New Jersey, in the summer of 1832, after I had become acquainted with this species through NUTTALL, I spent several days in searching the freshwater marshes, often waist-deep in mud, in the hopes of procuring it; but my efforts, as well as those of my friend EDWARD HARRIS, Esq. and my sons, were unsuccessful. I therefore concluded that it probably does not exist in that district. This is certainly strange, for it is very abundant in South Carolina, where the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN, myself, and others, have often seen it. Nay, I am of opinion that it spends the winter there, as well as in the Floridas, as I shot several individuals in February 1833, nine miles from Charleston, at a distance from any river, and on high, usually dry plains, at that season partially covered with water. They did not rise, until we had almost walked upon them, and could be shot only on wing, as they flew directly off at the height of a few inches above the grass, and alighted on the first bunch as abruptly as if they had been shot. They then emitted a single rough grating note, quite distinct from that of any other Wren. About this time I received from NUTTALL a letter, which completes the history of this diminutive species.
"Concerning the Short-billed Marsh Wren of which you inquired, I have but little to add to what I have already published; but it is for you to fill up the history of its summer migrations. Did you find it in Maine or Labrador? This season they have been more than usually abundant. Last year (1832) I saw extremely few, and believe many were famished, or some way destroyed by the long continuance of our spring rains. This year (1833) also, several pairs of Marsh Wrens have been seen occupied in making their nests in the reeds, on the margin of Fresh Pond, in our vicinity. These nests are suspended; those of the short-billed species always repose directly on the surface of the sedgy tussock of which they are made. The young are easily approached, appearing, by the placid innocence of their manner, as if wholly unconscious of danger. Coleopterous insects are the principal food of the species. I heard once or twice this season, the anxious guttural bubbling sound attributed to the Marsh Wren, mentioned by WILSON. The Short-billed species and the Common, now near the time of their departure for the south, frequent the reeds by Fresh Pond, in little roving companies.—Cambridge, September 12. 1833."
SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN, TROGLODYTES BREVIROSTRIS, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 436.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXV. Fig. 1.
Bill of moderate length, slender, nearly straight, acute, subtrigonal at the base, compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the dorsal outline slightly arched, the sides convex towards the end, the edges sharp, the tip narrow but rather obtuse; lower mandible also much compressed, with the dorsal line straight, the sides nearly erect and slightly rounded, the sharp edges inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, with an arched membrane above, open and bare. Head rather compressed, neck and body short. Legs of ordinary length; tarsus compressed, anteriorly covered with six scutella, posteriorly with a long plate forming a sharp edge; toes scutellate above, the second and fourth nearly equal, the hind toe much stronger, with a much larger claw, the third and fourth united as far as the second joint; claws arched, much compressed, acute.
Plumage soft and blended. No bristly feathers about the bill. Wings short, broad, rounded, first quill about half the length of the second, which is considerably shorter than the third, fourth, and fifth, which are nearly equal, the fourth, however, being the longest. Tail of ordinary length, graduated, of twelve narrow rounded feathers.
Bill dusky above, pale brownish-yellow beneath. Iris dark hazel. Feet pale flesh-colour. The upper parts are blackish-brown, each feather with a brownish-white line along the shaft, and the outer edge towards the end reddish-brown. Wings dusky, the outer edges barred with pale yellowish-brown on the outer webs. Upper tail-coverts and tail similarly barred. Throat and central part of the breast greyish-white, the rest of the lower parts pale reddish-brown, the sides under the wings faintly barred with dusky.
Length 4⅜ inches, extent of wings 5⅝; bill along the ridge 4½/12, along the edge 6/12; tarsus 8½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXV. Fig. 2.
The female resembles the male, and the young birds are distinguishable only by having the bill shorter, and the lower parts more tinged with red.
The Long-billed Marsh Wren is very closely allied to the present species, and the two form part of a group which VIEILLOT distinguishes by the name of Thyrothorus.
A MOOSE HUNT.
In the spring of 1833, the Moose were remarkably abundant in the neighbourhood of the Schoodiac Lakes; and, as the snow was so deep in the woods as to render it almost impossible for them to escape, many of them were caught. About the 1st of March 1833, three of us set off on a hunt, provided with snow-shoes, guns, hatchets, and provisions for a fortnight. On the first day we proceeded fifty miles, in a sledge drawn by one horse, to the nearest lake, where we stopped for the night, in the hut of an Indian named LEWIS, of the Passamaquody tribe, and who has abandoned the wandering life of his race, and turned his attention to farming and lumbering. Here we saw the operation of making snow-shoes, which requires more skill than one might imagine. The men generally make the bows to suit themselves, and the women weave in the threads, which are usually made of the skin of the Karaboo deer.
The next day we went on foot sixty-two miles farther, when a heavy rain-storm coming on, we were detained a whole day. The next morning we put on snow-shoes, and proceeded about thirteen miles, to the head of the Musquash Lake, where we found a camp, which had been erected by some lumberers in the winter, and here we established our head-quarters. In the afternoon an Indian had driven a female moose-deer, and two young ones of the preceding year, within a quarter of a mile of our camp, when he was obliged to shoot the old one. We undertook to procure the young alive, and after much exertion succeeded in getting one of them, and shut it up in the shed made for the oxen; but as the night was falling, we were compelled to leave the other in the woods. The dogs having killed two fine deer that day, we feasted upon some of their flesh, and upon Moose, which certainly seemed to us the most savoury meat we had ever eaten, although a keen appetite is very apt to warp one's judgment in such a case. After supper we laid ourselves down before the huge fire we had built up, and were soon satisfied that we had at last discovered the most comfortable mode of sleeping.
In the morning we started off on the track of a Moose, which had been driven from its haunt or yard by the Indians the day before; and, although the snow was in general five feet deep, and in some places much deeper, we travelled three miles before we came to the spot where the Moose had rested for the night. He had not left this place more than an hour, when we came to it. So we pushed on faster than before, trusting that ere long we should overtake him. We had proceeded about a mile and a half farther, when he took a sudden turn, which threw us off his track, and when we again found it, we saw that an Indian had taken it up and gone in pursuit of the harassed animal. In a short time we heard the report of a gun, and immediately running up, we saw the Moose standing in a thicket wounded, when we brought him down. The animal finding himself too closely pursued, had turned upon the Indian, who fired and instantly ran into the bushes to conceal himself. It was three years old, and consequently not nearly grown, although already about six feet and a half in height.
It is difficult to conceive how an animal could have gone at such a rate, when the snow was so deep, with a thick crust at top. In one place he had followed the course of a brook, over which the snow had sunk considerably on account of the higher temperature of the water, and we had an opportunity of seeing evidence of the great power which the species possesses in leaping over objects that obstruct his way. There were places in which the snow had drifted to so great a height, that you would have imagined it impossible for any animal to leap over it, and yet we found that he had done so at a single bound, without leaving the least trace. As I did not measure these snow-heaps, I cannot positively say how high they were, but I am well persuaded that some of them were ten feet.
We proceeded to skin and dress the Moose, and buried the flesh under the snow, where it will keep for weeks. On opening the animal we were surprised to see the great size of the lungs and heart, compared with the contents of the abdomen. The heart was certainly larger than that of any animal which I had seen. The head bears a great resemblance to that of a horse, but the "muffle" is more than twice as large, and when the animal is irritated or frightened, it projects that part much farther than usual. It is stated in some descriptions of the Moose, that he is short-winded and tender-footed, but he certainly is capable of long-continued and very great exertion, and his feet, for any thing that I have seen to the contrary, are as hard as those of any other quadruped. The young Moose was so exhausted and fretted, that it offered no opposition to us as we led it to the camp; but in the middle of the night we were awakened by a great noise in the hovel, and found that as it had in some measure recovered from its terror and state of exhaustion, it began to think of getting home, and was now much enraged at finding itself so securely imprisoned. We were unable to do any thing with it, for if we merely approached our hands to the openings of the hut, it would spring at us with the greatest fury, roaring and erecting its mane in a manner that convinced us of the futility of all attempts to save it alive. We threw to it the skin of a deer, which it tore to pieces in a moment. This individual was a yearling, and about six feet high. When we went to look for the other, which we had left in the woods, we found that he had "taken his back-track," or retraced his steps, and gone to the "beat," about a mile and a half distant, and which it may be interesting to describe.
At the approach of winter, parties of Moose Deer, from two to fifty in number, begin to lessen their range, and proceed slowly to the south side of some hill, where they feed within still narrower limits, as the snows begin to fall. When it accumulates on the ground, the snow, for a considerable space, is divided into well trodden, irregular paths, in which they keep, and browse upon the bushes at the sides, occasionally striking out a new path, so that, by the spring, many of those made at the beginning of winter are obliterated. A "yard" for half a dozen Moose would probably contain about twenty acres.
A good hunter, although still a great way off, will not only perceive that there is a yard in the vicinity, but can tell the direction in which it lies, and even be pretty sure of the distance. It is by the marks on the trees that he discovers this circumstance; he finds the young maple, and especially the moose-wood and birch, with the bark gnawed off to the height of five or six feet on one side, and the twigs bitten, with the impression of the teeth left in such a manner, that the position of the animal when browsing on them may be ascertained. Following the course indicated by these marks, the hunter gradually finds them more distinct and frequent, until at length he arrives at the yard; but there he finds no moose, for long before he reaches the place, their extremely acute smell and hearing warn them of his approach when they leave the yard, generally altogether, the strongest leading in one track, or in two or three parties. When pursued they usually separate, except the females, which keep with their young, and go before to break the track for them; nor will they leave them under any circumstances until brought down by their ruthless pursuers. The males, especially the old ones, being quite lean at this season, go off at great speed, and unless the snow is extremely deep, soon outstrip the hunters. They usually go in the direction of the wind, making many short turns to keep the scent, or to avoid some bad passage; and although they may sink to the bottom at every step, they cannot be overtaken in less than three or four days. The females, on the contrary, are remarkably fat, and it is not at all unfrequent to find in one of them a hundred pounds of raw tallow. But let us return to the young buck, which had regained the yard.
We found him still more untractable than the female we had left in the hovel; he had trodden down the snow for a small space around him, which he refused to leave, and would spring with great fury at any one who approached the spot too near; and as turning on snow-shoes is not an easy operation, we were content to let him alone, and try to find one in a better situation for capture, knowing that if we did eventually secure him, he would probably in the struggle injure himself too much to live. I have good reason to believe that the only practicable mode of taking them uninjured, except when they are very young, is, when they are exhausted and completely defenceless, to bind them securely, and keep them so till they have become pacified and convinced of the uselessness of any attempt at resistance. If allowed to exert themselves as they please, they almost always kill themselves, as we found by experience.
On the following day we again set out, and coming across the tracks of two young bucks, which had been started by the Indians, we pursued them, and in two or three miles overtook them. As it was desirable to obtain them as near the camp as possible, we attempted to steer them that way. For a while we succeeded very well in our scheme, but at last one of them, after making many ineffectual attempts to get another way, turned upon his pursuer, who, finding himself not very safe, felt obliged to shoot him. His companion, who was a little more tractable, we drove on a short way, but as he had contrived to take many turnings, he could approach us on his back-track too swiftly, so that we were compelled to shoot him also. We "dressed" them, taking with us the tongues and muffles, which are considered the most delicate parts.
We had not walked more than a quarter of a mile, when we perceived some of the indications before mentioned, which we followed for half a mile, when we came across a yard, and, going round it, we found where the Moose had left it, though we afterwards learned that we had missed a fine buck, which the dogs, however, afterwards discovered. We soon overtook a female with a young one, and were not long in sight of them when they stood at bay. It is really wonderful how soon they beat down a hard space in the snow to stand upon, when it is impossible for a dog to touch them, as they stamp so violently with their fore feet, that it is certain death to approach them. This Moose had only one calf with her, and on opening her we perceived that she would only have had one the next year, though the usual number is two, almost invariably a male and a female. We shot them with ball through the brain.
The Moose bears a considerable resemblance to the horse in his conformation, and in his disposition a still greater, having much of the sagacity as well as viciousness of that animal. We had an opportunity of observing the wonderful acuteness of its hearing and smelling. As we were standing by one, he suddenly erected his ears, and put himself on the alert, evidently aware of the approach of some person. About ten minutes after one of our party came up, who must have been at the time at least half a mile off, and the wind was from the Moose towards him.
This species of Deer feeds on the hemlock, cedar, fir or pine, but will not touch the spruce. It also eats the twigs of the maple, birch, and soft shoots of other trees. In the autumn they may be enticed by imitating their peculiar cry, which is described as truly frightful. The hunter gets up into a tree, or conceals himself in some other secure place, and imitates this cry by means of a piece of birch-bark rolled up to give the proper tone. Presently he hears the Moose come dashing along, and when he gets near enough, takes a good aim, and soon dispatches him. It is very unsafe to stand within reach of the animal, for he would certainly endeavour to demolish you.
A full grown male Moose is said to measure nine feet in height, and with his immense branching antlers presents a truly formidable appearance. Like the Virginian Deer and the male Karaboo, they shed their horns every year about the beginning of December. The first year their horns are not dropped in spring. When irritated the Moose makes a great grinding with his teeth, erects his mane, lays back his ears, and stamps with violence. When disturbed he makes a hideous whining noise, much in the manner of the Camel.
In that wild and secluded part of the country, seldom visited but by the Indians, the Common Deer were without number, and it was with great difficulty that we kept the dogs with us, as they were continually meeting with "beats." In its habits that species greatly resembles the Moose. The Karaboo has a very broad flat foot, and can spread it on the snow to the fetlock, so as to be able to run on a crust scarcely hard enough to bear a dog. When the snow is soft, they keep in immense droves around the margin of the large lakes, to which they betake themselves when pursued, the crust being much harder there than elsewhere. When it becomes more firm, they strike into the woods. As they possess such facility of running on snow, they do not require to make any yards, and consequently have no fixed place in the winter. The speed of this animal is not well known, but I am inclined to believe it much greater than that of the fleetest horse.
In our camp we saw great numbers of Crossbills, Grosbeaks, and various other small birds. Of the first of these were two species, which were very tame, and alighted on our hut with the greatest familiarity. We caught five or six at once under a snow-shoe. The Pine-Martin and Wild Cat were also very abundant.
THE SPOTTED OR CANADA GROUS.
TETRAO CANADENSIS, LINN.
PLATE CLXXVI. MALE AND FEMALE.
No sooner had I entered the State of Maine, than I considered the Canada Grous as one of the principal objects of my inquiry. Every person to whom I spoke about it, assured me that it was rather abundant during the whole year, and consequently that it bred in the country. All this fortunately proved to be quite true, but no one told me of the difficulties I should have to encounter in watching its habits; and although I ultimately succeeded in this, the task was perhaps as severe as any which I ever undertook.
In August 1832, I reached the delightful little village of Dennisville, about eighteen miles distant from Eastport. There I had the good fortune of becoming an inmate of the kind and most hospitable family of Judge LINCOLN, who has resided there for nearly half a century, and who is blessed with a family of sons equal to any with whom I am acquainted, for talents, perseverance and industry. Each of these had his own peculiar avocation, and I naturally attached myself more particularly to one who ever since his childhood has manifested a decided preference for ornithological pursuits. This young gentleman, THOMAS LINCOLN, offered to lead me to those retired woods where the Spruce Partridges were to be found. We accordingly set out on the 27th of August, my two sons accompanying us. THOMAS, being a perfect woodsman, advanced at our head, and I can assure you, reader, that to follow him through the dense and tangled woods of his native country, or over the deep mosses of Labrador, where, you know, he accompanied me afterwards, would be an undertaking not easily accomplished with credit. The weather was warm, and the musquitoes and moose flies did their best to render us uncomfortable. We however managed to follow our guide the whole day, over fallen trees, among tangled brushwood, and through miry ponds; yet not a single Grous did we find, even in places where he had before seen them, and great was my mortification, when, on our return towards sunset, as we were crossing a meadow belonging to his father, not more than a quarter of a mile from the village, the people employed in making hay informed us that about half an hour after our departure they had seen a fine covey. We were too much fatigued to go in search of them, and therefore made for home.
Ever ardent, if not impatient, I immediately made arrangements for procuring some of these birds, offering a good price for a few pairs of old and young, and in a few days renewed my search in company with a man who had assured me he could guide me to their breeding grounds, and which he actually did, to my great pleasure. These breeding grounds I cannot better describe than by telling you that the larch forests, which are there called "Hackmetack Woods," are as difficult to traverse as the most tangled swamps of Labrador. The whole ground is covered by the most beautiful carpeting of verdant moss, over which the light-footed Grous walk with ease, but among which we sunk at every step or two up to the waist, our legs stuck in the mire, and our bodies squeezed between the dead trunks and branches of the trees, the minute leaves of which insinuated themselves among my clothes, and nearly blinded me. We saved our guns from injury, however, and seeing some of the Spruce Partridges before they perceived us, we procured several specimens. They were in beautiful plumage, but all male birds. It is in such places that these birds usually reside, and it is very seldom that they are seen in the open grounds, beyond the borders of their almost impenetrable retreats. On returning to my family, I found that another hunter had brought two fine females, but had foolishly neglected to bring the young ones, which he had caught and given to his children, who to my great mortification had already cooked them when my messenger arrived at his house.
The Spruce Partridge or Canada Grous breeds in the States of Maine and Massachusetts about the middle of May, nearly a month earlier than at Labrador. The males pay their addresses to the females by strutting before them on the ground or moss, in the manner of the Turkey Cock, frequently rising several yards in the air in a spiral manner, when they beat their wings violently against their body, thereby producing a drumming noise, clearer than that of the Ruffed Grous, and which can be heard at a considerable distance. The female places her nest beneath the low horizontal branches of fir trees, taking care to conceal it well. It consists of a bed of twigs, dry leaves and mosses, on which she deposits from eight to fourteen eggs of a deep fawn colour, irregularly splashed with different tints of brown. They raise only one brood in the season, and the young follow the mother as soon as hatched. The males leave the females whenever incubation has commenced, and do not join them again until late in autumn; indeed, they remove to different woods, where they are more shy and wary than during the love season or in winter.
This species walks much in the manner of our Partridge. I never saw one jerk its tail as the Ruffed Grous does, nor do they burrow in the snow like that bird, but usually resort to trees to save themselves from their pursuers. They seldom move from thence at the barking of a dog, and when roused fly only to a short distance, uttering a few clucks, which they repeat on alighting. In general, when a flock is discovered, each individual forming it may be easily caught, for so seldom do they see men in the secluded places which they inhabit, that they do not seem to be aware of the hostile propensities of the race.
Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, the Spruce Partridge is much more abundant than the Ruffed Grous, which indeed gradually becomes scarcer the farther north we proceed, and is unknown in Labrador, where it is replaced by the Willow Grous, and two other species. The females of the Canada Grous differ materially in their colouring in different latitudes. In Maine, for instance, they are more richly coloured than in Labrador, where I observed that all the individuals procured by me were of a much greyer hue than those shot near Dennisville. The like difference is perhaps still more remarkable in the Ruffed Grous, which are so very grey and uniformly coloured in the Northern and Eastern States, as to induce, almost every person to consider them as of a species distinct from those found in Kentucky, or any of the southern mountainous districts of the Union. I have in my possession skins of both species procured a thousand miles apart, that present these remarkable differences in the general hue of their plumage.
All the species of this genus indicate the approach of rainy weather or a snow storm, with far more precision than the best barometer; for on the afternoon previous to such weather, they all resort to their roosting places earlier by several hours than they do during a continuation of fine weather. I have seen groups of Grous flying up to their roosts at mid-day, or as soon as the weather felt heavy, and have observed that it generally rained in the course of that afternoon. When, on the contrary, the same flock would remain busily engaged in search of food until sunset, I found the night and the following morning fresh and clear. Indeed, I believe that this kind of foresight exists in the whole tribe of Gallinaceous birds.
One day, while on the coast of Labrador, I accidentally almost walked upon a female Canada Grous surrounded by her young brood. It was on the 18th of July. The affrighted mother on seeing us, ruffled up all her feathers like a common hen, and advanced close to us as if determined to defend her offspring. Her distressed condition claimed our forbearance, and we allowed her to remain in safety. The moment we retired, she smoothed down her plumage, and uttered a tender maternal chuck, when the little ones took to their wings, although they were, I can venture to assert, not more than one week old, with so much ease and delight, that I felt highly pleased at having allowed them to escape.
Two days afterwards, my youthful and industrious party returned to the Ripley with a pair of these Grous in moult. This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season than the Willow Grous. My son reported that some young ones which he saw with their mother, were able to fly fully a hundred yards, and alighted on the low trees, among which he caught several of them, which, however, died before they reached the vessel.
This species is found not only in the State of Maine, but also in the mountainous districts of New Hampshire, and the northern parts of New York, as well as around our northern great lakes, and the head waters of the Missouri. It is abundant in the British provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Labrador.
Among the great number, procured at all seasons of the year, which I have examined, I never found one without the rufous band at the extremity of the tail represented in the plate; nor did I see any having the terminal white spot on the upper tail-coverts exhibited in figures of this species.
Their food consists of berries of different sorts, and the young twigs and blossoms of several species of plants. In the summer and autumn I have found them gorged with the berries of the plant represented in the plate, and which is commonly called "Solomon's Seal." In the winter I have seen the crop filled with the short leaves of the larch or Hackmetack.
I have frequently heard it said that these birds could be knocked down with sticks, or that a whole covey could be shot, while perched on trees, by beginning at the lowest one; but I have never witnessed any thing of the kind, and therefore cannot vouch for the truth of the assertion. During the autumn of 1833, these birds were uncommonly abundant in the State of Maine. My friend EDWARD HARRIS of New York, THOMAS LINCOLN, and others, killed a great number; and the last mentioned gentleman procured a pair alive, which were fed on oats and did well.
The flesh of this Grous is dark, and fit for being eaten only when it has fed on berries. In winter, when it feeds on the leaves of trees and other plants, the flesh is quite bitter and disagreeable.
TETRAO CANADENSIS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 274.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 637.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 127.
SPOTTED GROUS, TETRAO CANADENSIS, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. iii. pl. 20. Male; pl. 21. fig. 2. Female.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. i. p. 667.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Boreal.- Amer. vol. ii. p. 246.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXVI. Fig. 1, 1.
Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse, the base covered by feathers; upper mandible with the dorsal outline convex towards the end, the edges sharp and overlapping, the tip declinate; lower mandible slightly convex, in its dorsal outline, the back broad and rounded, the sides sloping outwards, the tip rather rounded. Nostrils basal, lateral, concealed by the short feathers. Head small, neck of ordinary length, body full. Feet short, rather small; tarsus short, roundish, feathered; toes scutellate above, broadly margined and pectinate, the anterior ones connected by a web at the base, the hind toe very small, the two lateral about equal, the middle one much longer; claws short, arched, compressed, rather obtuse.
Plumage compact, slightly glossed. Feathers of the head very short. Wings, short, broad, much rounded and curved, the third quill longest, the fourth next, the second and fifth nearly equal, the first very short. Tail ample, of ordinary length, rounded, of sixteen broad rotundato-truncate feathers having a minute mucro.
Bill and claws brownish-black. Iris hazel. Fringed membrane over the eyes vermilion. Toes purplish-grey. Upper plumage and flanks brownish-black, transversely barred with brownish-grey, the tip of each feather with two bars being of the latter colour; on the hind parts the bars are larger, and the pale ones more tinged with brown. Quills and larger coverts blackish-brown, the outer edges of the primaries pale brownish-grey, and those of the secondaries minutely mottled with the same. Tail-coverts brownish-black, minutely mottled and tipped with greyish-white; tail-feathers darker and tipped with dull brownish-red. Lower parts black, the feathers on the throat having a white spot near the end, those of the lower and lateral parts of the neck unspotted, of the breast with a broad subterminal spot, and the under tail-coverts largely tipped with white. Inner wing-coverts clove-brown, the proximal and axillaries tipped with white.
Length 15¾ inches, extent of wings 21¾; bill along the back 8/12, along the edge 1-2/12; tarsus 1¼; weight 17 oz.
Adult Female. CLXXVI. Fig. 2, 2.
The Female is not much smaller. The superciliary membrane is much less, but of the same colour. The upper parts are nearly of the same tints, but more broadly barred; the head, sides of the neck, fore neck, and anterior part of the breast yellowish-red, barred with brownish-black; the lower parts greyish-black, barred with reddish-white. The tail is minutely mottled and tipped with brownish-red. The younger females have more of the yellowish-red tints than the old ones. In other respects the colouring is nearly similar.
Length 15½ inches, extent of wings 21; weight 15 oz.
TRILLIUM PICTUM, Pursh, Flora Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 244. —HEXANDRIA TRIGYNIA, Linn.
This plant, as well as the other species represented, grows abundantly in Maine, in all such secluded places as are frequented by the Spotted Grous, which eagerly devours its berries. It has ovate acuminate leaves of a light green colour, thin and undulated; an erect peduncle; white flowers, veined with purple at the bottom, and having the petals lanceolate, recurved, nearly twice the length of the calyx. The berries are ovate and of a scarlet colour.
STREPTOPUS DISTORTUS, Mich. Flor. Amer. vol. i. p. 200. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 232.—HEXANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
About two feet high, with alternate, amplexicaul, ovate, acute, ribbed, light green leaves; greenish-yellow flowers, on pedicels which are distorted in the middle; and oval scarlet berries.
WHITE-HEADED PIGEON.
COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, LINN.
PLATE CLXXVII. MALE AND FEMALE.
The White-headed Pigeon arrives on the Southern Keys of the Floridas, from the Island of Cuba, about the 20th of April, sometimes not until the 1st of May, for the purpose of residing there for a season, and rearing its young. On the 30th of April, I shot several immediately after their arrival from across the Gulf Stream. I saw them as they approached the shore, skimming along the surface of the waters, flying with great rapidity, much in the manner of the common house species, but not near each other like the Passenger Pigeon. On nearing the land, they rose to the height of about a hundred yards, surveyed the country in large circles, then with less velocity gradually descended, and alighted in the thickest parts of the mangroves and other low trees. None of them could be easily seen in those dark retreats, and we were obliged to force them out, in order to shoot them, which we did at this time on the wing.
In creeping among the bushes to obtain a view of them whilst alighted, I observed that the more I advanced, the more they retired from me. This they did by alighting on the ground from the trees, among which they could not well make way on wing, although they could get on with much ease below, running off and hiding at every convenient spot that occurred. These manœuvres lasted only a few days, after which I could see them perched on the tops of the trees, giving a preference perhaps to dry branches, but not a marked one, as some other species are wont to do.
They are at all times extremely shy and wary, more so in fact than any species with which I am acquainted. The sight of a man is to them insupportable, perhaps on account of the continued war waged against them, their flesh being juicy, well flavoured, and generally tender, even in old birds. Never could I get near one of them so long as it observed me. Indeed the moment they perceive a man, off they go, starting swiftly with a few smart raps of the wings, and realighting in a close covert for a while, or frequently flying to another key, from which they are sure to return to that left by them, should you pursue them. It is thus a most toilsome task to procure specimens of these birds.
Their shyness is but partially given up even during their love season, or while sitting on their eggs, for the moment they see you they get off slyly from the nest, walk on the branches for some distance, and take to wing without any noise, flying low along the edge of the mangroves, into which they throw themselves as soon as a place of safety offers itself, seldom on such occasions flying off to other keys. Their return to the nest is not immediate, the heat of these latitudes not requiring the same care in incubation as the comparative cold of more northern regions. I have waited their return sometimes as much as half an hour, without success.
By the first of May, the young squabs are nearly able to fly, and it is at this period that the greatest havoc is made among them. The fishermen and the wreckers visit the keys principally resorted to by this species, rifle all the nests they can find, and sometimes also shoot the old birds.
The key on which I first saw this bird, lies about twenty-five miles south of Indian Key, and is named Bahia-honda Duck Key. The farther south we proceeded the more we saw, until we reached the low, sandy, sterile keys, called the Tortugas, on none of which did I see a pigeon of any kind. During my visit to the Floridas, our party procured a great number of White-headed Pigeons. They were all either adult, or full-plumed birds, having the upper part of the head pure white, with a deep rich brown edging at the lateral parts of the crown. On our return from the Tortugas to Key West, our vessel anchored close to a small key, in a snug harbour protected from the sea winds by several long and narrow islands well known to the navigators of those seas. Captain DAY and myself visited this little key, which was not much more than an acre in extent, the same afternoon. No sooner had we landed, than, to our delight, we saw a great number of White-headed Pigeons rise, fly round the key several times, and all realight upon it. The Captain posted himself at one end of the key, I at the other, while the sailors walked about to raise the birds. In less than two hours we shot thirty-six of them, mostly on the wing. Their attachment to this islet resulted from their having nests with eggs on it. Along with them we found Grakles, Red-winged Starlings, Flycatchers, and a few Zenaida Doves. Having shot most of the Pigeons, examined their nests, collected their eggs, and written memoranda, we proceeded to other keys in search of other species, of which you will have an account in my next volume, they being all water birds.
The next morning we thought of calling at this little key on our way, and were surprised to find that many new comers had arrived there before us. They were, however, very shy, and we procured only seventeen in all. I felt convinced that this spot was a favourite place of resort to these birds. It being detached from all other keys, furnished with rank herbaceous plants, cactuses, and low shrubs, and guarded by a thick hedge of mangroves, no place could be better adapted for breeding; and, at each visit we paid it, White-headed Pigeons were procured. Allow me here, kind reader, to tell you that the number of that strange species of crabs called soldiers was so great, that our game could not be suffered to lie a few minutes on the ground without being either much mangled or carried into their subterranean retreats; so that, with all our care, we were actually deprived by them of several birds which we had shot. These curious crabs, which belong to the genus Pagurus, crawl up the trees, and no doubt often destroy the eggs or young of the Pigeons.
The principal difference between Pigeons and Doves, as to their habits, is, according to my observation, that the former generally build their nests close together on the same trees, which the latter never do. For this reason I would place the present species among the Doves.
The nest is placed high or low, according to circumstances; but there are never two on the same tree. I have found it on the top shoots of a cactus, only a few feet from the ground, on the upper branches of a mangrove, or quite low, almost touching the water, and hanging over it. In general the nest resembles that of the Columba migratoria, but it is more compact, and better lined. The outer part is composed of small dry twigs, the inner of fibrous roots and grasses. The eggs are two, opaque, white, rather roundish, and as large as those of the domestic Pigeon. From the appearance of the eggs in the ovaria of females having young at the time, I would infer that this species has several broods during each season; and perhaps they may breed in Cuba, after their return from the Florida Keys. None of these birds are found on the mainland, although it is at no great distance.
A rather extraordinary fact relating to the habits of this species, is that many of these birds, which breed in Cuba, or some of the Bahama Islands, come to the Florida Keys for the purpose of procuring food for their young, to which they return several times daily. This is particularly observed at the time when the Sea Grape is fully ripe, or during the month of June. The numbers of these Pigeons that resort to the Keys, attract several species of Hawks during the breeding season, amongst which the Peregrine and the Red-shouldered are conspicuous. On none of the Keys unvisited by this species, did I see a Hawk of any kind.
The White-headed Pigeon exhibits little of the pomposity of the common domestic species, in its amorous moments. The male, however, struts before the female with elegance, and the tones of his voice are quite sufficient to persuade her of the sincerity of his attachment. During calm and clear mornings, when nature appears in all her purity and brightness, the cooing of this Pigeon may be heard at a considerable distance, mingling in full concord with the softer tones of the Zenaida Dove. The bird standing almost erect, full-plumed, and proud of his beauty, emits at first a loud croohoo, as a prelude, and then proceeds to repeat his coo-coo-coo. These sounds are continued during the period of incubation, and are at all times welcome to the ear of the visitor of these remarkable islands. When approached suddenly, it emits a hollow, guttural sound, precisely resembling that of the Common Pigeon on such occasions.
The young birds are at first almost black, but have tufts of a soft buff-coloured down distributed mostly over the head and shoulders. While yet squabs they have no appearance of white on the head, and they take about four months before they acquire their perfect plumage. Smaller size, and a less degree of brilliancy, distinguish the female from the male. About the beginning of October they abound on the Keys, and return to the West India Islands.
I have only to add the following particulars to what I have already detailed of the history of this species. While standing perched in a nearly upright posture, they have a continued movement of the head, with a frequent jerking upwards of the tail. Their flight may be compared to that of the European Cushat, being very swift and noiseless, after a few hard flaps at starting. In captivity they are easily managed, and readily breed. I saw several of them with my friends Dr WILSON and Mr JOHN BACHMAN.
I have placed a pair of these Pigeons on a low, flowering tree, which is rather scarce on the Keys. It is in full bloom during the whole year, and its leaves, I thought, correspond with the colour of the birds, while the brilliant hue of its flowers forms a strong contrast.
COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 281.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 594.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 119.
WHITE-HEADED PIGEON, COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 15. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, part. i. p. 625.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXVII. Fig. 1.
Bill straight, of ordinary length, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, where it is straight in its dorsal outline, convex towards the end, with a sharp-edged, declinate, rather obtuse tip; lower mandible with the sides sloping outwards, the angle near the end, the edges sharp, the tip rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed, neck of ordinary length, body full. Feet short, strong; tarsus very short, rounded, with two anterior rows of large hexagonal scales; toes scutellate above, marginate, the hind-toe smallest, the two lateral nearly equal, the middle toe much larger; claws of moderate size, compressed, arched, rather acute.
Plumage rather compact above, blended beneath, on the hind neck strong, with metallic gloss. Wings long, the third quill longest, the second almost equal, the first not so long as the fourth, the second, third, fourth, and most of the other primaries sinuate on the outer web, towards the end; the secondaries broad and rounded. Tail rather long, even, of twelve broad slightly rounded feathers.
Bill carmine at the base, bluish-white at the end. Iris yellow. Feet carmine; claws greyish-yellow. The general colour is dusky greyish-blue, paler beneath, the quills and tail-feathers darker. The whole upper part of the head is pure white; the upper part of the hind neck rich chocolate-brown, the lower part and sides green, changing to gold-colour, each feather margined externally with deep black.
Length 14¼ inches, extent of wings 23½; bill along the back 8/12, along the edge 11/12; tarsus 1-1/12, middle-toe and claw 1-11/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXVII. Fig. 2.
The female differs from the male only in having the tints a little duller and lighter.
Length 14 inches.
THE ROUGH-LEAVED CORDIA.
CORDIA SEBESTENA, Willd.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. CORDIACEÆ, Juss.
This plant, on account of its large tubular scarlet flowers, is one of the most beautiful of the West Indian trees. I saw only two individuals at Key West, where, as was supposed, they had been introduced from Cuba. They were about fifteen feet high, the stem having a diameter of only five or six inches. They were in full bloom in the early part of May, and their broad deep green leaves, and splendid red blossoms, mingled with the variety of plants around me, rendered their appearance delightful. Both trees were private property, and grew in a yard opposite to that of Dr STROBEL, through whose influence I procured a large bough, from which the drawing was made, with the assistance of Mr LEHMAN. I was informed that they continued in flower nearly the whole summer.
THE ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER.
SYLVIA CELATA, SAY.
PLATE CLXXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.
This species is seen in the company of Sylvia coronata and Sylvia petechia, both in the Southern States, where it passes the winter, and while crossing the Union, in early spring, on its way to those Northeastern Districts where it breeds. It leaves Louisiana, the Floridas, and the Carolinas, from the beginning to the end of April; is seen in the Middle States, about the 10th of May; and reaches the State of Maine and the British provinces by the end of that month. On its return, besides settling in the Southern States, it spreads over the provinces of Mexico, from whence individuals in spring migrate by the vast prairies, and along the shores of the western parts of the Union, entering Canada in that direction in the first days of June. The Orange-crowned Warbler is thus very widely distributed over North America. I met with none, however, between Halifax and Labrador, nor did I see one in the latter country.
In the summer months, it manifests a retiring disposition, keeping among the low brushwood that borders the rivers and lakes of the Northern Districts. While in the south, however, where it is rather common near the sea-shore, it is less cautious, and is seen, in considerable numbers, in the orange groves around the plantations, or even in the gardens, especially in East Florida. Like the Sylvia petechia, it plays about the piazzas, skipping on wing in front of the clapboarded house, in quest of its prey, which it expertly seizes without alighting, or without snapping its bill, except during the disputes that occur among the males, as the spring advances. You find it among the branches of the Pride-of-China, that ornaments the streets of the southern cities and villages, as well as on those bordering the roads. From these it descends into the smilaxes, rose-bushes, and other shrubs, all of which yield it food and shelter. At the approach of darkness, it enters among the foliage of the evergreen wild orange and wild peach, where, with the Sylvia petechia and Sylvia coronata, it quietly passes the night. Its principal food consists of insects, partly caught on the wing, but chiefly along the branches and twigs, where the little depredator seeks them out with great activity.
The flight of this bird is short, rather low, and is performed by gently curved glidings. When ascending, however, it becomes as it were uncertain and angular.
The Orange-crowned Warbler breeds in the eastern parts of Maine, and in the British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Its nest is composed of lichens detached from the trunks of trees, intermixed with short bits of fine grass, and is lined with delicate fibrous roots and a proportionally large quantity of feathers. The eggs, which are from four to six, are of a pale green colour, sprinkled with small black spots. The nest is placed not more than from three to five feet from the ground between the smaller forks of some low fir tree. Only one brood is raised in the season, and the birds commence their journey southward from the middle of August to the beginning of September.
In autumn, it nearly loses the orange spot on its head, there being then merely a dull reddish patch, which is only seen on separating the feathers. In the breeding season, the part in question becomes as bright as you see it in the plate, in which are represented a pair of these birds, on a twig of the great huckleberry, which grows in East Florida. The young do not shew any orange on the head until the following spring.
SYLVIA CELATA, Say, in Long's Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, vol. i. p. 169.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 88.
ORANGE-COLOURED WARBLER, SYLVIA CELATA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 45. pl. 5. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 413.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXVIII. Fig. 1.
Bill longish, slender, straight, tapering to a very sharp point. Nostrils basal, oval, feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few long scutella, sharp-edged behind, longer than the middle-toe; toes scutellate above, free; claws arched, slender, compressed, acute.
Plumage blended, the feathers soft and tufty. Wings rather short, the second and third quills longest. Tail slightly emarginate, of ordinary length, the twelve feathers rather narrow, and tapering broadly to a point.
Bill dusky above, pale greyish-blue beneath. Iris hazel. Feet and claws dusky. The general colour of the plumage above is dull brownish-green, the rump and tail-coverts light yellowish-green, the edge of the wing at the flexure yellow. On the crown is a spot of bright reddish-orange, more distinct when the feathers are raised. The under parts are of a dull olivaceous yellow, the lower tail-coverts bright yellow. The quills and tail-feathers dark brown, slightly margined with paler.
Length 5½ inches, extent of wings 7-11/12; bill along the ridge 5/12, along the edge ½; tarsus 9/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXVIII. Fig. 2.
Bill and feet of the same colour as in the male, the former inclined to yellowish-grey beneath. The female wants the orange spot on the crown, but in other respects resembles the male in colour, although the rump and upper tail-coverts are of a darker tint.
Length slightly less than that of the male.
This species appears to form the transition from the Sylviæ to the Reguli; or rather to be allied to the Reguli on the one hand, and to the Slender-billed Finches on the other.
THE HUCKLEBERRY.
VACCINIUM FRONDOSUM, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 352. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 285.—DECANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. ERICÆ, Juss.
This plant has already been described at p. 129. of Vol. I. It is very abundant in the pine barrens of the Floridas, where it is in full flower in February, and attains a height of from four to eight feet.
THE WOOD WREN.
TROGLODYTES AMERICANA.
PLATE CLXXIX. MALE.
Although I feel much pleasure in introducing this new species to you, I regret that I am yet unable to speak with certainty of its summer haunts, or of the extent of its migration in the United States. A family of Wrens of this species were shot by my sons in a deep wood, eight or ten miles from Eastport in Maine, in the summer of 1832. The young were following their parents through the dark and tangled recesses of their favourite places of abode, busily engaged in search of their insect prey; but their nest was not seen. Some weeks afterwards three adult birds of the same kind were shot near Dennisville in the same district; and, on shewing them to my young and intelligent friend THOMAS LINCOLN, Esq. he told me that they bred in hollow logs in the woods, and seldom if ever approached the farms. He had seen the eggs, but, considering it a common species there, had made no notes of their number or colour; nor had he attended to the form or materials of their nest. My drawing was made at that place.
Last winter, while at Charleston, I saw many of them: they had much the same habits as in Maine, remaining in thick hedges along ditches, in the woods, and also not far distant from plantations. I procured several through the assistance of my friend JOHN BACHMAN, which now form part of my large collection of skins of American birds. The notes of this species differ considerably from those of the House Wren, to which it is nearly allied. I hope to be more familiar with the Wood Wren before my labours are completed, in which case I shall not fail to make you acquainted with the result of my observations.
The following table exhibits a view of the places of resort of our different Wrens, which are arranged according to their comparative frequency.
1. The Carolina Wren is extremely abundant in all the Southern States, and gradually diminishes in number as you approach the Middle Districts, none I believe being ever seen farther east than the State of New York. It occurs chiefly in maritime districts, or the neighbourhood of lakes, ponds or rivers.
2. The House Wren is abundant during spring and summer in the Middle Districts, and extends in small numbers eastward into Maine. Very few are seen to the west of the Alleghanies, and none in Kentucky or Louisiana. It is fond of the neighbourhood of human habitations.
3. The Winter Wren abounds in Maine during summer; some breed in the mountainous portions of the Middle States; none are seen in the south, unless during winter, when a few occur as far as Charleston in South Carolina; at this period it is abundant in Kentucky.
4. Bewick's Wren is rather rare in the Southern States, from Louisiana to South Carolina, being found in the interior. Its breeding place is unknown.
5. The Wood Wren is found here and there in Maine, where it breeds. It winters in South Carolina.
6. The Long-billed Marsh Wren is altogether maritime, and abounds from the Carolinas to the Middle States.
7. The Short-billed Marsh Wren occurs near fresh water only, and is abundant from the Carolinas to Maine. The two last species are never seen at a greater distance from the coast than a few miles.
THE WOOD WREN, TROGLODYTES AMERICANA.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXIX. Fig. 1.
Bill of moderate length, nearly straight, slender, acute, subtrigonal at the base, compressed towards the tip; upper mandible with the ridge rather sharp, the sides convex towards the end, the edges acute and overlapping, the tip slightly decimate and acute; lower mandible narrow, the sides convex, the sharp edges inflected. Nostrils elliptical, straight, basal, with a cartilaginous lid above, open and bare. Head ovate, neck short, body rather full. Legs of ordinary length, rather large; tarsus rather long, compressed, covered anteriorly with seven scutella, sharp behind; lateral toes equal and smallest, hind toe strongest; claws rather long, slender, acute, arched, much compressed.
Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. No bristly feathers about the base of the beak. Wings short, broad; the first quill half the length of the second, which is much shorter than the third; the fourth and fifth longest. Tail rather long, broad, graduated, of twelve rounded feathers.
Bill dusky brown above, lower mandible brownish-yellow, the tip dusky. Iris hazel. Feet flesh-colour, tinged with brown. The general colour of the upper parts is dark reddish-brown, duller, and tinged with grey on the head, indistinctly barred with dark brown; wings and tail undulatingly banded with dark brown, the edges of the outer primaries lighter. The under parts are pale brownish-grey, faintly barred on the fore-neck, breast, and sides, the under tail-coverts distinctly barred.
Length 4⅞ extent of wings 6-3/12 bill along the ridge 5½/12, along the edge 8/12; tarsus 8/12.
This species is most intimately allied to the House Wren, from which it can hardly be distinguished in description, the colours being nearly the same in both. The present species, however, is considerably larger, wants the light coloured line over the eye which is conspicuous in the House Wren, and has the tail much more graduated.
SMILACINA BOREALIS, Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 233. —HEXANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
Leaves elliptico-obovate, ciliated; the scape pubescent, with a corymbose umbel. The flowers are large, and of a greenish-yellow colour; the fruit roundish, of a beautiful deep blue. It is extremely abundant in the dark woods of Maine, growing in moist places.
ARBUTUS UVA-URSI, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 618.—DECANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.
This small creeping plant grows in pine barrens, and in rocky and mountainous places in the Northern and Eastern States. The berries are scarlet, dry and unpalatable.
THE PINE FINCH.
FRINGILLA PINUS, WILS.
PLATE CLXXX. MALE AND FEMALE.
During the winter months, the Pine Finch is such a wanderer, that it ranges at irregular periods, from the coast line westward to the banks of the Ohio, and southward to the Carolinas. Now and then, during severe weather with occasional storms of snow, I have seen flocks of a hundred individuals or more, rambling in search of a place in which to alight and seek for nourishment. In December 1833, I shot several near Charleston in South Carolina, and on a previous winter procured five near Henderson in Kentucky. Their visits to those Districts, however, are of short duration, the least increase of temperature seeming to recall them to their more northern haunts; and as soon as spring commences, they all disappear from the districts south of Maine and the adjacent countries.
In August and September 1832, while travelling in the British provinces, I and my companions frequently met with flocks of these birds, in company with the American Crossbill, feeding amid the branches of the tallest fir trees, as well as on the seeds of the thistles of that country, much in the manner of the American Goldfinch, and the European Siskin. When disturbed, they would rise high in the air in an irregular flight, emitting their peculiar call-note as they flew; but would always realight as soon as another group of thistles was seen by them. When feeding, they often hung head downwards, like so many Titmice, and as often would balance themselves on the wing, as if afraid to alight on the sharp points of the plants, which after all they appeared greatly to prefer to all others.
While among the Magdeleine Islands, in the Gulf of St Lawrence, I frequently observed groups of five or six of these birds arriving from afar, and in different directions. In some instances, these flocks alighted on the spars and rigging of our vessel, the Ripley, as if to rest, when they would plume themselves, issue their plaintive call-notes, as if to announce to others (unseen by us) that they had alighted, and in a few minutes would leave us, and direct their course toward the nearest shores, perhaps following in the wake of other flocks.
At the Harbour of Bras d'Or, on the coast of Labrador, in the end of July, we met with a great number of these birds. They were then accompanied by their young, and moved in flocks composed of a single family, or at most of two. They haunted low thickets of willows and elders in the vicinity of water, and were extremely fearless and gentle, allowing the members of my party to approach them very near, so that we procured as many of them as we desired. No difference was observable either in the males or the females as to plumage, compared with that which they have in the winter, only that the yellow of the wings was brighter and richer than it is at that season. The young were already fully fledged, had the whole head of a clean plain grey tint, and although exhibiting the different markings elsewhere seen on the old birds, they had those markings depicted in feeble tints. Not a nest could we find, although I have no doubt that the birds which we saw had been reared in the immediate neighbourhood.
In the State of Maine they are always abundant during winter. My young friend THOMAS LINCOLN, informed me that at that season, they flock in company with Crossbills, the Pine Grosbeak, the White-winged Crossbill and other species, are easily caught, and require no particular care in keeping.
This species sings while on the wing, as the Goldfinch is wont to do. Its notes are sweet, varied, clear and mellow, and although somewhat resembling those of the bird just mentioned, are yet perfectly distinct from them. Its flight, however, is almost the same as that of the Goldfinch. Like that bird, it glides through the air in graceful deep curves, emitting its common call-note at every effort which it makes to propel itself.
Those which I saw while in South Carolina, in company with my esteemed friend JOHN BACHMAN, fed entirely on the seeds of the Sweet Gum, each bird hanging to a bur for a while, and passing from one to another with great celerity. They are fond of open grounds, and alight on detached trees, when these are high, but at most times they prefer thickets of bushes.
The specimens represented in the plate, were procured near the residence of Sir ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL, Bart. in New Brunswick, of which province he is governor; and I have great pleasure in informing you, that, through his most polite attention and kind hospitality to myself and my family, our time was passed in the most pleasant manner, while we sojourned in the pretty village of Frederickton.
FRINGILLA PINUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 111.
PINE FINCH, FRINGILLA PINUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 133. pl. 57. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 511.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXX. Fig. 1.
Bill rather short, conical, very acute; upper mandible a little broader than the lower, almost straight in its dorsal outline, rounded on the sides, as is the lower, which has the edges sharp and inflected; the gap-line almost straight, slightly deflected at the base. Nostrils basal, roundish, concealed by the feathers. Head of moderate size, the general form compact. Legs of moderate length, slender; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few longish scutella, sharp behind; toes scutellate above, free, the lateral ones nearly equal, the hind toe strong; claws arched, much compressed, very acute.
Plumage soft, blended, with very little gloss. Wings of ordinary length, the first quill longest, the second and third a little shorter; secondaries short, emarginate. Tail of ordinary length, forked, the lateral feathers straight, but spreading.
Bill light yellowish-brown, dusky at the tip. Iris brown. Feet purplish-brown. The general colour of the upper parts is yellowish-grey, streaked with dark brown; the wings and tail dusky, margined with greyish-white; the bases of the secondary quills, the tips of their coverts, and the margins of the rump feathers, cream-coloured. The lower parts are greyish-white, tinged with brown on the fore neck, and all streaked with dull brown.
Length 4-9/12 inches, extent of wings 8½; bill along the ridge 5/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 6/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXX. Fig. 2.
The Female scarcely differs from the Male in external appearance.
This species belongs to the group of Slender-billed Finches which form the genus Carduelis of authors. The form of its bill, although much thicker than that of Sylvia celata, bears a great resemblance to it, the latter forming the transition between the Slender-billed Finches and some of the Sylviæ.
THE BLACK LARCH.
PINUS PENDULA, Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 645. Lambert, Monogr. p. 55. pl. 36.—MONŒCIA POLYANDRIA, Linn. CONIFERÆ, Juss.
Abundant in the Northern States, where it attains a great size. It resembles the European Larch (Pinus Larix) in appearance, and in the quality of its wood. The leaves are deciduous and fasciculate, the cones small, oblong, their scales rounded with inflected margins. It is usually known by the names of Tamarack or Hackmatack.
JOURNEY IN NEW BRUNSWICK AND MAINE.
The morning after that which we had spent with Sir ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL and his delightful family, saw us proceeding along the shores of the St John's River in the British province of New Brunswick. As we passed the Government-house, our hearts bade its generous inmates adieu; and as we left Frederickton behind, the recollection of the many acts of kindness which we had received from its inhabitants, came powerfully on our minds. Slowly advancing over the surface of the translucent stream, we still fancied our ears saluted by the melodies of the unrivalled band of the 43d Regiment. In short, with the remembrance of kindness experienced, the feeling of expectations gratified, the hope of adding to our knowledge, and the possession of health and vigour, we were luxuriating in happiness.
The "Favourite," the bark in which we were, contained not only my whole family, but nearly a score and a half individuals of all descriptions, so that the crowded state of her cabin soon began to prove rather disagreeable. The boat itself was a mere scow, commanded by a person of rather uncouth aspect and rude manners. Two sorry nags he had fastened to the end of a long tow-line, on the nearer of which rode a Negro youth, less than half clad, with a long switch in one hand, and the joined bridles in the other, striving with all his might to urge them on at the rate of something more than two miles an hour.
How fortunate it is for one to possess a little of the knowledge of a true traveller! Following the advice of a good and somewhat aged one, we had provided ourselves with a large basket, which was not altogether empty when we reached the end of our aquatic excursion. Here and there the shores of the river were delightful, the space between it and the undulating hills that bounded the prospect being highly cultivated, while now and then its abrupt and rocky banks assumed a most picturesque appearance. Although it was late in September, the mowers were still engaged in cutting the grass, and the gardens of the farmers shewed patches of green pease. The apples were still green, and the vegetation in general reminded us that we were in a northern latitude.
Gradually and slowly we proceeded, until in the afternoon we landed to exchange our jaded horses. We saw a house on an eminence, with groups of people assembled round it, but there no dinner could be obtained, because, as the landlord told us, an election was going on. So the basket was had recourse to, and on the green sward we refreshed ourselves with its contents. This done, we returned to the scow, and resumed our stations. As usual in such cases, in every part of the world that I have visited, our second set of horses was worse than the first. However, on we went. To tell you how often the tow-line gave way, would not be more amusing to you than it was annoying to us. Once our commander was in consequence plunged into the stream, but after some exertion, he succeeded in regaining his gallant bark, when he consoled himself by giving utterance to a volley of blasphemies, which it would as ill become me to repeat as it would be disagreeable to you to hear. We slept somewhere that night; it does not suit my views of travelling to tell you where.
Before day returned to smile on the Favourite, we proceeded. Some rapids we came to, when every one, glad to assist her, leaped on shore, and tugged à la cordelle. Some miles farther we passed a curious cataract, formed by the waters of the Pokioke. There Sambo led his steeds up the sides of a high bank, when, lo! the whole party came tumbling down, like so many hogsheads of tobacco rolled from a storehouse to the banks of the Ohio. He at the steering oar hoped "the black rascal" had broken his neck, and congratulated himself in the same breath for the safety of the horses, which presently got on their feet. Sambo, however, alert as an Indian chief, leaped on the naked back of one, and, shewing his teeth, laughed at his master's curses. Shortly after this we found our boat very snugly secured on the top of a rock, midway in the stream, just opposite the mouth of Eel River.
Next day at noon, none injured, but all chop-fallen, we were landed at Woodstock village, yet in its infancy. After dining there, we procured a cart and an excellent driver, and proceeded along an execrable road towards Houlton in Maine, glad enough, after all our mishaps, at finding ourselves in our own country. But before I bid farewell to the beautiful river of St John, I must tell you, that its navigation seldom exceeds eight months each year, the passage during the rest being performed on the ice, of which we were told that last season there was an unusual quantity, so much, indeed, as to accumulate, by being jammed at particular spots, to the height of nearly fifty feet above the ordinary level of the river, and that when it broke loose in spring, the crash was awful. All the low grounds along the river were suddenly flooded, and even the elevated plain on which Frederickton stands was covered to the depth of four feet. Fortunately, however, as on the greater streams of the Western and Southern Districts, such an occurrence seldom takes place.
Major CLARKE, commander of the United States garrison, received us with remarkable kindness. The next day was spent in a long though fruitless ornithological excursion, for although we were accompanied by officers and men from the garrison, not a bird did any of our party procure that was of any use to us. We remained a few days, however, after which, hiring a cart, two horses, and a driver, we proceeded in the direction of Bangor.
Houlton is a neat village, consisting of some fifty houses. The fort is well situated, and commands a fine view of Mar's Hill, which is about thirteen miles distant. A custom-house has been erected here, the place being on the boundary line of the United States and the British Provinces. The road which was cut by the soldiers of this garrison, from Bangor to Houlton, through the forests, is at this moment a fine turnpike, of great breadth, almost straight in its whole length, and perhaps the best now in the Union. It was incomplete, however, for some miles, so that our travelling over that portion was slow and disagreeable. The rain, which fell in torrents, reduced the newly raised earth to a complete bed of mud, and at one time our horses became so completely mired, that had we not been extricated by two oxen, we must have spent the night near the spot. Jogging along at a very slow pace, we were overtaken by a gay waggoner, who had excellent horses, two of which a little "siller" induced him to join to ours, and we were taken to a tavern at the "Cross Roads," where we spent the night in comfort. While supper was preparing, I made inquiries respecting birds, quadrupeds, and fishes, and was pleased to hear that all these animals abounded in the neighbourhood. Deer, bears, trouts, and grouse were quite plentiful, as was the Great Grey Owl!
When we resumed our journey next morning, Nature displayed all her loveliness; and Autumn, with her mellow tints, her glowing fruits, and her rich fields of corn, smiled in placid beauty. Many of the fields had not yet been reaped, the fruits of the forests and orchards hung clustering around us, and as we came in view of the Penobscot River, our hearts thrilled with joy. Its broad transparent waters here spread out their unruffled surface, there danced along the rapids, while canoes filled with Indians swiftly glided in every direction, raising before them the timorous waterfowl that had already flocked in from the north. Mountains, which you well know are indispensable in a beautiful landscape, reared their majestic crests in the distance. The Canada Jay leaped gaily from branch to twig; the Kingsfisher, as if vexed at being suddenly surprised, rattled loudly as it swiftly flew off; and the Fish Hawk and Eagle spread their broad wings over the waters. All around was beautiful, and we gazed on the scene with delight, as seated on a verdant bank, we refreshed our frames from our replenished stores. A few rare birds were procured here, and the rest of the road being level and firm, we trotted on at a good pace for several hours, the Penobscot keeping company with us.
Now we came to a deep creek of which the bridge was undergoing repairs, and the people saw our vehicle approach with much surprise. They however assisted us with pleasure, by placing a few logs across, along which our horses one after the other were carefully led, and the cart afterwards carried. These good fellows were so averse to our recompensing them for their labour, that after some altercation we were obliged absolutely to force what we deemed a suitable reward upon them.
Next day we continued our journey along the Penobscot, the country changing its aspect at every mile, and when we first descried Old Town, that village of saw-mills looked like an island covered with manufactories. The people here are noted for their industry and perseverance, and any one possessing a mill, and attending to his saws and the floating of the timber into his dams, is sure to obtain a competency in a few years. Speculations in land covered with pine, lying to the north of this place, are carried on to a great extent, and to discover a good tract of such ground many a miller of Old Town undertakes long journeys. Reader, with your leave, I will here introduce one of them.
Good luck brought us into acquaintance with Mr GILLIES, whom we happened to meet in the course of our travels, as he was returning from an exploring tour. About the first of August he formed a party of sixteen persons, each carrying a knapsack and an axe. Their provisions consisted of 250 pounds of pilot bread, 150 of salted pork, 4 of tea, 2 large loaves of sugar, and some salt. They embarked in light canoes, twelve miles north of Bangor, and followed the Penobscot as far as Wassataquoik River, a branch leading to the north-west, until they reached the Seboeis Lakes, the principal of which lie in a line, with short portages between them. Still proceeding north-west, they navigated these lakes, and then turning west, carried their canoes to the great lake "Baamchenunsgamook;" thence north to Wallaghasquegantook Lake, then along a small stream to the upper Umsaskiss Pond, when they reached the Albagash River, which leads into the St John's, in about latitude 47° 3´. Many portions of that country had not been visited before even by the Indians, who assured Mr GILLIES of this fact. They continued their travels down the St John's to the Grand Falls, where they met with a portage of half a mile, and having reached Meduxmekeag Creek, a little above Woodstock, the party walked to Houlton, having travelled twelve hundred miles, and described almost an oval over the country by the time they returned to Old Town, on the Penobscot.
While anxiously looking for "lumber lands," they ascended the eminences around, then climbed the tallest trees, and by means of a good telescope, inspected the pine woods in the distance. And such excellent judges are these persons of the value of the timber which they thus observe, when it is situated at a convenient distance from water, that they never afterwards forget the different spots at all worthy of their attention. They had observed only a few birds and quadrupeds, the latter principally porcupines. The borders of the lakes and rivers afforded them fruits of various sorts, and abundance of cranberries, while the uplands yielded plenty of wild white onions, and a species of black plum. Some of the party continued their journey in canoes down the St John's, ascended Eel River, and the lake of the same name, to Matanemheag River, due southwest of the St John's, and after a few portages fell into the Penobscot.
I had made arrangements to accompany Mr GILLIES on a journey of this kind, when I judged it would be more interesting as well as useful to me to visit the distant country of Labrador.
The road which we followed from Old Town to Bangor was literally covered with Penobscot Indians returning from market. On reaching the latter beautiful town, we found very comfortable lodging in an excellent hotel; and next day we proceeded by the mail to Boston.
THE GOLDEN EAGLE.
FALCO CHRYSAËTOS, LINN.
PLATE CLXXXI.
In the early part of February 1833, while at Boston in Massachusetts, I chanced to call on Mr GREENWOOD, the proprietor of the Museum of that city, who informed me that he had purchased a very fine Eagle, the name of which he was desirous of knowing. The bird was produced, and as I directed my eye towards its own deep, bold and stern one, I recognised it at once as belonging to the species whose habits I have here to describe, and I determined to obtain possession of it. Mr GREENWOOD, who is a very kind as well as talented person, being asked if he would part with the noble bird, readily answered in the affirmative, and left to me to determine its value, which I accordingly did, and carried off my purchase. His report of the manner in which the royal prisoner had been secured, was as follows:—"The man from which I bought it had it in the same cage it is now in, on the top of his market-waggon, and when I asked its price, said that the Eagle had been caught in a spring-trap set for foxes on the white mountains of New Hampshire. One morning the trap was missing, but on searching for it, it was at last discovered more than a mile from its original place, and held the bird by one of its toes only. The eagle flew about through the woods for several hundred yards, but was at last with difficulty secured. This took place a few days ago."
The Eagle was immediately conveyed to my place of residence, covered by a blanket, to save him, in his adversity, from the gaze of the people. I placed the cage so as to afford me a good view of the captive, and I must acknowledge that as I watched his eye, and observed his looks of proud disdain, I felt towards him not so generously as I ought to have done. At times I was half inclined to restore to him his freedom, that he might return to his native mountains; nay, I several times thought how pleasing it would be to see him spread out his broad wings and sail away towards the rocks of his wild haunts; but then, reader, some one seemed to whisper that I ought to take the portrait of the magnificent bird, and I abandoned the more generous design of setting him at liberty, for the express purpose of shewing you his semblance.
I occupied myself a whole day in watching his movements; on the next I came to a determination as to the position in which I might best represent him; and on the third thought of how I could take away his life with the least pain to him. I consulted several persons on the subject, and among others my most worthy and generous friend, GEORGE PARKMAN, Esq. M.D., who kindly visited my family every day. He spoke of suffocating him by means of burning charcoal, of killing him by electricity, &c. and we both concluded that the first method would probably be the easiest for ourselves, and the least painful to him. Accordingly the bird was removed in his prison into a very small room, and closely covered with blankets, into which was introduced a pan of lighted charcoal, when the windows and door were fastened, and the blankets tucked in beneath the cage. I waited, expecting every moment to hear him fall down from his perch; but after listening for hours, I opened the door, raised the blankets, and peeped under them amidst a mass of suffocating fumes. There stood the Eagle on his perch, with his bright unflinching eye turned towards me, and as lively and vigorous as ever! Instantly reclosing every aperture, I resumed my station at the door, and towards midnight, not having heard the least noise, I again took a peep at my victim. He was still uninjured, although the air of the closet was insupportable to my son and myself, and that of the adjoining apartment began to feel unpleasant. I persevered, however, for ten hours in all, when finding that the charcoal fumes would not produce the desired effect, I retired to rest wearied and disappointed.
Early next morning I tried the charcoal anew, adding to it a quantity of sulphur, but we were nearly driven from our home in a few hours by the stifling vapours, while the noble bird continued to stand erect; and to look defiance at us whenever we approached his post of martyrdom. His fierce demeanour precluded all internal application, and at last I was compelled to resort to a method always used as the last expedient, and a most effectual one. I thrust a long pointed piece of steel through his heart, when my proud prisoner instantly fell dead, without even ruffling a feather.
I sat up nearly the whole of another night to outline him, and worked so constantly at the drawing, that it nearly cost me my life. I was suddenly seized with a spasmodic affection, that much alarmed my family, and completely prostrated me for some days; but, thanks to my heavenly Preserver, and the immediate and unremitting attention of my most worthy friends Drs PARKMAN, SHATTUCK, and WARREN, I was soon restored to health, and enabled to pursue my labours. The drawing of this Eagle took me fourteen days, and I had never before laboured so incessantly excepting at that of the Wild Turkey.
The Golden Eagle, although a permanent resident in the United States, is of rare occurrence there, it being seldom that one sees more than a pair or two in the course of a year, unless he be an inhabitant of the mountains, or of the large plains spread out at their base. I have seen a few of them on the wing along the shores of the Hudson, others on the upper parts of the Mississippi, some among the Alleghanies, and a pair in the State of Maine. At Labrador we saw an individual sailing, at the height of a few yards, over the moss-covered surface of the dreary rocks.
Although possessed of a powerful flight, it has not the speed of many Hawks, nor even of the White-headed Eagle. It cannot, like the latter, pursue and seize on the wing the prey it longs for, but is obliged to glide down through the air for a certain height to insure the success of its enterprise. The keenness of its eye, however, makes up for this defect, and enables it to spy, at a great distance, the objects on which it preys; and it seldom misses its aim, as it falls with the swiftness of a meteor towards the spot on which they are concealed. When at a great height in the air, its gyrations are uncommonly beautiful, being slow and of wide circuit, and becoming the majesty of the king of birds. It often continues them for hours at a time, with apparently the greatest ease.
The nest of this noble species is always placed on an inaccessible shelf of some rugged precipice,—never, that I am aware of, on a tree. It is of great size, flat, and consists merely of a few dead sticks and brambles, so bare at times that the eggs might be said to be deposited on the naked rock. They are generally two, sometimes three, having a length of 3½ inches, and a diameter at the broadest part of 2½. The shell is thick and smooth, dull white, brushed over, as it were, with undefined patches of brown, which are most numerous at the larger end. The period at which they are deposited, is the end of February or the beginning of March. I have never seen the young when newly hatched, but know that they do not leave the nest until nearly able to provide for themselves, when their parents drive them off from their home, and finally from their hunting grounds. A pair of these birds bred on the rocky shores of the Hudson for eight successive years, and in the same chasm of the rock.
Their notes are harsh and sharp, resembling at times the barking of a dog, especially about the breeding season, when they become extremely noisy and turbulent, flying more swiftly than at other times, alighting more frequently, and evincing a fretfulness which is not so observable after their eggs are laid.
They are capable of remaining without food for several days at a time, and eat voraciously whenever they find an opportunity. Young fawns, racoons, hares, wild turkeys, and other large birds, are their usual food, and they devour putrid flesh only when hard pressed by hunger, none alighting on carrion at any other time. They are nice in cleaning the skin or plucking the feathers of their prey, although they swallow their food in large pieces, often mixed with hair and bones, which they afterwards disgorge. They are muscular, strong, and hardy, capable of bearing extreme cold without injury, and of pursuing their avocations in the most tempestuous weather. A full grown female weighs about twelve pounds, the male about two pounds and a half less. This species seldom removes far from its place of residence, and the attachment of two individuals of different sexes appears to continue for years.
They do not obtain the full beauty of their plumage until the fourth year, the Ring-tailed Eagle of authors being the young in the dress of the second and third years. Our north-western Indians are fond of ornamenting their persons and implements of war with the tail-feathers of this Eagle, which they kill or raise expressly for that purpose.
I conclude my account of this species with an anecdote relating to it given in one of Dr RUSH'S lectures upon the effects of fear on man. During the revolutionary war, a company of soldiers were stationed near the highlands of the Hudson River. A Golden Eagle had placed her nest in a cleft of the rocks half way between the summit and the river. A soldier was let down by his companions suspended by a rope fastened around his body. When he reached the nest, he suddenly found himself attacked by the Eagle; in self defence he drew the only weapon about him, his knife, and made repeated passes at the bird, when accidentally he cut the rope almost off. It began unravelling; those above hastily drew him up, and relieved him from his perilous situation at the moment when he expected to be precipitated to the bottom. The Doctor stated that so powerful was the effect of the fear the soldier had experienced whilst in danger, that ere three days had elapsed his hair became quite grey.
FALCO CHRYSAËTOS and F. FULVUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 125. —Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 10.
FALCO FULVUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 25.
AQUILA CHRYSAËTOS, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. vol. ii. p. 12.
RING-TAILED EAGLE, F. FULVUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 13. pl. 55. fig. 1. Young.
ROYAL or GOLDEN EAGLE, Nuttall, Manual, part. i. p. 62.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXXI.
Bill shortish, deep, compressed, strong, cerate at the base; upper mandible with the dorsal outline nearly straight and sloping at the base, from the margin of the cere to the end curved so as to form the fourth of a circle, the sides sloping and slightly convex, the edges sharp, nearly straight, with a slight convexity and a shallow sinus close to the strong subtrigonal tip, which is concave or channelled beneath; lower mandible convex on its dorsal outline, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip obliquely truncate. Nostrils in the fore part of the cere, lateral, oblique, oval, open, with a process at their anterior margin. Head of moderate size, neck short, body full. Legs of ordinary length; the tibia proportionally long; the tarsus short, rounded, robust, feathered to the toes, which are rather short, very strong, united at the base by a short web, marginate, covered above with series of angular scales, and towards the end with large broad scutella, of which there are four on the hind toe, three on the next, four on the middle toe, and three on the outer; the first and second toes are about equal, the hind one stronger, the middle toe longest, the outer shortest and smallest; claws long, curved, rounded, flat beneath, middle claw with a deep groove and an edge on the inner side.
Plumage compact, imbricated, glossy; feathers of the head and neck narrow and pointed, of the back and breast broader, but still pointed. Space between the bill and eye covered with small bristle-pointed feathers disposed in a radiating manner; both eyelids ciliated; a bare projecting space over the eye. Wings long; the fourth quill longest, the third almost equal, the second considerably shorter, the first short; the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth, abruptly cut out on the inner webs; the secondaries long, broad, and rounded. Tail rather long, ample, rounded, of twelve broad, rounded, and acuminate feathers.
Bill light bluish-grey at the base, black at the tip; cere and basal margins yellow. Eyebrows and margins of the eyelids light blue; iris chestnut. Toes rich yellow; claws bluish-black. Fore part of the head, cheeks, throat, and under parts, deep brown. Hind head, and posterior and lateral parts of the neck, light brownish-yellow, the shafts and concealed parts of the feathers deep brown. The back is deep brown, glossy, with purplish reflections; the wing-coverts lighter. The primary quills brownish-black, the secondaries with their coverts brown, and those next the body more or less mottled with brownish-white, excepting at the ends; the edge of the wing at the flexure pale yellowish-brown. Tail dark brown, lighter towards the base, and with a few irregular whitish markings, like fragments of transverse bands; its coverts pale brown, mottled with white at the base, and paler at the ends. The short feathers of the legs and tarsi are light yellowish-brown, each with a dark shaft; the outer elongated feathers dark brown; the lower tail-coverts light yellowish-brown. The base of the feathers on the upper parts of the body is white, on the lower pale dusky grey.
Length 3 feet 2 inches, extent of wings 7 feet; bill along the back 2¾, edge of lower mandible 2½; tarsus 4½, middle toe and claw 4½, hind claw 2¾. The extremities of the wings are 1 inch short of that of the tail.
THE NORTHERN HARE.
The species of Hare here represented, is found in the more northern parts of the State of New York, and from thence to the extremities of Nova Scotia. During the summer months it is of a deep greyish-brown colour above, darker on the shoulders and rump, and dull white beneath. About the beginning of October, the tips of the hairs become whitish, not unfrequently in spots, and at length the fur acquires a snowy hue all over, although its under parts remain greyish at all seasons. Its flesh resembles that of the European Hare in taste, but is much lighter in colour. The markets of Boston and our eastern cities are generally well supplied with them during winter, when they are brought from the mountainous districts or highlands of the interior, where they prefer living. They are easily caught with snares, or run down by fleet dogs during deep snows. Being a true Hare, it has a form, to which it returns on being chased.
While at Newfoundland, I procured a remarkably large Hare, which has been described by Dr RICHARDSON under the name of Lepus glacialis. The greater part of its hair was of a fine pearl-grey colour above, and white beneath. The ears were black at the extremities, and perhaps those parts remain so at all seasons. The tread of its hind foot measured fully three inches in width, when the toes were extended. The head was much longer and more curved in its frontal line, than in any other hare that I have seen. The flesh was white, tender, and excellent eating. The animal weighed 7½ lb. avoirdupois. The species is rather common at Newfoundland, but I could not ascertain its habits. The feet are in great request in the manufacturing districts for the use of hatters, who employ it for smoothing the pile of their fabric.
THE GROUND DOVE.
COLUMBA PASSERINA, LINN.
PLATE CLXXXII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.
If the different species of Pigeons and Doves which I have described, have interested you sufficiently to render you desirous of holding further converse with that interesting family, and of examining for yourself, which I sincerely wish you would resolve to do, you may perhaps visit the islands, which, like so many bastions, protect the shores of South Carolina, Georgia, and the Floridas, those spots where, in the calm of every spring morn, the air is rendered balmy by the effluvia of thousands of flowers, each of which rivals its neighbour in the brilliancy of its hues. Stop there, kind reader, and seat yourself beneath the broadly extended arms of the thickly-leaved evergreen oak, and at that joyous moment when the first beams of the sun reach your eye, see the Owl passing low and swiftly over the ground, in haste to reach his diurnal retreat before the increasing light render all things dim to his sight; observe the leathern-winged Bat, pursuing his undulating course through the dewy air, now deflecting downwards to seize the retiring nocturnal-insect, now upwards to pursue another species, as it rises to meet the genial warmth emitted by the orb of day. Listen,—for at such a moment your soul will be touched by sounds,—to the soft, the mellow, the melting accents, which one might suppose inspired by Nature's self, and which she has taught the Ground Dove to employ in conveying the expression of his love to his mate, who is listening to them with delight.
Before I proceed to describe the habits of this interesting bird, allow me to present you with the result of my observations relative to the geographical distribution of the birds of the genus Columba, which are either resident in the United States, or visit them annually.
The Passenger Pigeon ranges over the whole of the United States, excepting perhaps the southernmost portions of the Floridas, and extends to Newfoundland, where it is well known.
The Carolina Dove ranges from Louisiana to the middle parts of the State of Massachusetts, but is never seen in Maine. It reaches up the Mississippi, as far as Prairie du Chien, and in that direction extends to the borders of Upper Canada.
The Ground Dove is met with from the lower parts of Louisiana to Cape Hatteras, following the coast quite round the Floridas, but very seldom seen at any great distance in the interior. It is unknown in the State of Mississippi; and I will venture to add, that one of these birds has never been seen in Kentucky, although some writers have alleged that they occur there. They are more abundant on the sea islands of Georgia, and the middle portions of the coast of East Florida, than any where else. A search for them an hundred miles inland would in all probability prove fruitless.
The White-headed Pigeon is confined to about three hundred miles of the Florida Keys. It seldom, if ever, visits the mainland. It remains with us about seven months of the year.
The Zenaida Dove seldom reaches farther east, along the Florida Keys, than Cape Light-House. It never visits the Main. Its residence with us is shorter than that of the White-headed Pigeon by a full month.
The Key West Pigeon has never been met with elsewhere than on the island of that name. It remains there about five months only.
The same is the case with the Blue-headed Ground Pigeon, commonly called the Cuba Partridge, which is the rarest of all the species known to me that resort to the Floridas.
In the above account, I have placed the species according to the number of individuals of each that occur in our country, beginning with the Passenger Pigeon, which is the most numerous, and ending with the Blue-headed Pigeon, which is the rarest; and I beg of you, kind reader, to recollect that hear-say has no part as a foundation for the results in this statement. I may also inform you, that curiosity, in part, prompted me to present it, it having been written in 1832, with the view of seeing if any of these birds shall become more or less numerous, or extend or diminish their range.
The flight of the Ground Dove is low, easy, and accompanied with a whistling sound, produced by the action of the wings, when the bird is surprised and forced to fly. It is less protracted than that of any other species with which I am acquainted in the United States, with the exception of the Blue-headed Pigeon. The crossing of the Gulf Stream by the latter bird is more surprising than the extended flight of the European Quail. The Ground Dove seldom flies more than a hundred yards at a time, and indeed is extremely attached to the spot which it has selected for the season. You may drive it to the opposite end of a large field, and yet, in a few hours after, it may be found in the place whence you raised it. Although it alights on trees or low bushes, on the branches of which it walks with ease, and on which its nest is most frequently placed, the ground is its usual resort. There it runs with facility, keeping its tail considerably elevated, as if to save it from being soiled. It is also fond of alighting on fences, where it is easily observed, and where it may be heard cooing for half an hour at a time.
These Pigeons are met with in groups of four or five, and it is seldom that more than a dozen are seen together. They prefer the thinly grassed sandy portions of cotton fields, pea-patches, and such places. In East Florida they are seen in the villages, and resort to the orange groves about them, where they frequently breed. I have often found them in the inner court of the famous Spanish fort of St Augustine, where I have been surprised to see them rise almost perpendicularly, to reach above the parapets, by which they insured their escape. They are easily caught in traps, and at that place are sold at 6¼ cents each. They readily become domesticated, and indeed so very gentle are they, that I have seen a pair which, having been caught at the time when their young were quite small, and placed in an aviary, at once covered the little ones, and continued to nourish them until full-grown. They afterwards raised a second brood in the same nest, and shewed great spirit in keeping the Jays and Starlings from their charge. In this aviary, which belonged to Dr WILSON of Charleston, several other species bred, among which were the Carolina Dove, the Cardinal Bird, the Blue Grosbeak, the White-throated Sparrow, the Towhe Bunting, the Common Partridge, and the Wood Duck. The Ground Doves were fed on rice and other small grain.
The nest of this species is large for the size of the bird, and compact. Its exterior is composed of dry twigs, its interior of grasses disposed in a circular form. It is usually placed in low bushes or hedges, or in orange trees in orchards. Early in April the female deposits her two pure white eggs; and sometimes three, but more generally two broods are reared in a season. The male struts before the female in the manner of the Barbary Ringed Dove.
A few of these birds remain all the year in the vicinity of Charleston, but the greater number retire either to the sea islands or to the Floridas. I met with them on the Keys resorted to by the Zenaida Dove, and saw some on Sandy Island, which lies six miles south from Cape Sable, the extreme point of the peninsula. They were so gentle that I approached them within less than two yards. Their nest was placed on the top of a cactus, not more than two feet high. I took some pleasure in destroying a pair of Fish Crows, that were waiting an opportunity to deprive them of their young.
In a wild state, the food of this species consists of grass-seeds and various small berries, with which they pick up a large proportion of gravel to assist digestion. They are extremely fond of dusting themselves in the sand, lying down upon it for a long time, in the manner of Partridges and other Gallinaceous birds, to which indeed they are closely allied. Their flesh is excellent.
COLUMBA PASSERINA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 285.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 611.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 120.
GROUND DOVE, COLUMBA PASSERINA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 15. pl. 46. fig. 2. male, fig. 3. female.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 635.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXXII. Fig. 1, 2, 3.
Bill rather short, slender, feeble, compressed, straight; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, the tip rather obtuse, its margins sharp; lower mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small, roundish, neck short, body moderately full. Legs short; tarsus short, compressed, covered anteriorly with a few transverse scutella; toes free, slender, scutellate above; hind toe shorter and more slender, the two lateral equal, the middle one not much longer; claws short, compressed, deep, acute.
Plumage soft, blended, without gloss. Wings of moderate length; second quill longest, third nearly as long, first and fourth about equal; secondaries long and rounded; the first, second and third primaries slight, cut out on the outer margin. Tail of moderate length, rounded, of twelve broad, rounded feathers.
Bill pale red, inclining to orange, dusky at the tip. Iris orange-red. Feet flesh-coloured. Forehead, sides of the head, anterior and lateral parts of the neck, breast, and sides, light purplish-red or vinaceous, the central part of the neck-feathers dusky, hind head, and posterior part of the neck pale blue, the feathers edged with dark grey. Back brownish-grey, as are the upper tail-coverts and two middle tail-feathers. Alula brownish-black, as are the ends of the primary-coverts, of which the bases are deep red; primaries deep red, broadly margined externally, and tipped with dusky brown. Secondary quills and their coverts pale grey, tinged with red; the smaller coverts and scapulars of a reddish colour like that of the breast, and shewing oblong black spots glossed with purplish blue and green. Lower wing-coverts and under surface of the wings deep red; lower tail-coverts brownish-grey, tipped with white. Tail-feathers grey at the base, bluish-black towards the end, more or less tipped with grey, the outermost with a touch of white on its outer edge at the tip.
Length 6¾ inches, extent of wings 11; bill along the back 5½/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 7½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXXII. Fig. 4.
The female is paler in the tints, the colour above being light brownish-grey, the lower parts much lighter, the throat-feathers broadly margined with dull white. The forehead and wing-coverts are but slightly tinged with red, and the hind neck is less blue than in the male.
Length 6¼ inches.
Young Bird. Plate CLXXXII. Fig. 5.
The young resembles the female.
THE WILD ORANGE.
CITRUS AURANTIUM, Linn.
You will find all that I know respecting this tree at pages 260 and 360 of the present volume.
AMERICAN GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN.
REGULUS TRICOLOR, NUTTALL.
PLATE CLXXXIII. MALE AND FEMALE.
This active little bird breeds in Labrador, where I saw it feeding its young in August, when the species appeared already moving southward; but although it was common there and in Newfoundland, as was the Ruby-crowned Regulus, we did not succeed in our search for its nest. It enters the United States late in September, and continues its journey beyond their limits, as I have met with it on the borders of our most Southern Districts during winter. Individuals remain in all the Southern and Western States the whole of that season, and leave them again about the beginning of March.
They generally associate in groups, composed each of a whole family, and feed in company with the Titmice, Nuthatches, and Brown Creepers, perambulating the tops of trees and bushes, sometimes in the very depth of the forests or the most dismal swamps, while at other times they approach the plantations, and enter the gardens and yards. Their movements are always extremely lively and playful. They follow minute insects on the wing, seize them among the leaves of the pines, or search for the larvæ in the chinks of the branches. Like the Titmice they are seen hanging to the extremities of twigs and bunches of leaves, sometimes fluttering in the air in front of them, and are unceasingly occupied. They have no song at this season, but merely emit now and then a low screep.
On the 23d of January last, while in company with my friend JOHN BACHMAN, I saw great numbers of them in the woods near Charleston, searching for food high in the trees as well as low down, and so careless of us, that although we would approach within a few feet of them, they were not in the least disconcerted. Their feeble chirp was constantly repeated. We killed a great number of them in hopes of finding among them some individuals of the species known under the name of Regulus ignicapillus, but in this we did not succeed. At times they uttered a strong querulous note, somewhat resembling that of the Black-headed Titmouse. The young had acquired their full plumage, but the females were more abundant than the males. At this season the yellow spot on their head is less conspicuous than towards spring, when they raise their crest feathers while courting.
The young shot in Newfoundland in August, had this part of the head of a uniform tint with the upper parts of the body. While with us they are amazingly fat, but at Newfoundland we found them the reverse. I have represented a pair of them on a plant that grows in Georgia, and which I thought might prove agreeable to your eye.
REGULUS CRISTATUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 91.
GOLDEN-CROWNED GOLD-CREST, REGULUS CRISTATUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 22. pl. 2. fig. 4. Female.
REGULUS REGULOIDES, Jardine in his Edition of Wilson's Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 127.
AMERICAN FIERY-CROWNED WREN, REGULUS TRICOLOR, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 420.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXXIII. Fig. 1.
Bill short, straight, subulate, very slender, depressed at the base, compressed towards the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline nearly straight, the sides convex, the edges inflected towards the end, the tip slightly declinate, with an obscure notch on each side; lower mandible straight, acute. Nostrils basal, elliptical, half-closed above by a membrane, covered over by a single adpressed feather with disunited barbs. Head rather large, neck short, body small. Legs rather long; tarsus slender, much compressed, covered anteriorly with a long undivided plate above, and a few scutella beneath; toes slender, the lateral ones nearly equal and free, the hind toe proportionally large; claws arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage very loose and tufty. Bristles at the base of the bill. Wings of ordinary length; the first primary extremely short and narrow, the third, fourth, and fifth almost equal, but the fourth longest. Tail of ordinary length, slender, emarginate, of twelve narrow, acuminate feathers, the outer curved outwards towards the end.
Bill black. Iris brown. Feet brownish-yellow, the under part of the toes yellow. The general colour of the upper parts is ash-grey on the neck and sides of the head, tinged with olive on the back, and changing to yellowish-olive on the rump. There is a band of greyish-white across the lower part of the forehead, which at the eye separates into two bands, one extending over, the other under the eye; above this is a broadish band of black, also margining the head on either side, the inner webs and tips of these black feathers being of a bright pure yellow, of which colour are some of the feathers in the angle formed anteriorly by the dark band; the crown of the head in the included spaces covered with shorter flame-coloured silky feathers; an obscure line of dusky feathers from the angle of the mouth, to beneath the eye, which is margined anteriorly and posteriorly with the same colour; the throat and lower parts are greyish-white, tinged anteriorly with yellowish-brown. Quills and coverts dusky, the quills margined with greenish-yellow, the secondary coverts broadly tipped with the same, as is the first row of smaller coverts; the base of all the quills, excepting the four outer, white; from the seventh primary to the innermost secondary but two, a broad bar of blackish-brown. Tail of the same colour as the quills.
Length 4 inches, extent of wings 7; bill along the back 3/12, along the edge 5½/12; tarsus 8/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXXIII. Fig. 2.
The female is somewhat smaller than the male, from which it differs in external appearance, chiefly in having pure yellow substituted for the flame-colour of the crown, and in having less grey on the hind neck.
If we compare the American Golden-crested Wren with the European, we find that they agree in general appearance, in the proportional length of the quills, and in the form of the tail, as well as that of the bill and legs. Their differences are the following.
Regulus tricolor is longer by half an inch than R. cristatus, its bill is stronger and 1/12 of an inch shorter, its claws are also stronger and shorter, and the flame-coloured patch on the head is more extended and brighter. The European species has never so much grey on the neck and back, and its lower parts are always more tinged with brownish-yellow. The other differences are not very obvious, but the difference in the size of the bill, were there no other characters, would be enough, in a family of birds so closely resembling each other as the Reguli, to point out the American as distinct from the European species.
THALIA DEALBATA, Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 584. GYNANDRIA MONANDRIA, Linn.—ORCHIDEÆ, Juss.
This beautiful plant is a native of Georgia and South Carolina, where, according to PURSH, it was discovered by J. MILLINGTON, Esq. of the latter State. It is perennial, flowers in August and September, attains a height of four feet, and grows in swampy places. The leaves are large, ovate, with parallel oblique ribs, and a revolute apex; the flowers are pale purple, in pairs, in a large panicle. I am indebted to Mr NOISETTE for the specimen which I have represented.
THE MANGO HUMMING BIRD.
TROCHILUS MANGO, LINN.
PLATE CLXXXIV. MALE AND FEMALE.
I am indebted to my learned friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN for this species of Humming Bird, of which he received a specimen from our mutual friend Dr STROBEL, and afterwards presented it to me.
"Hitherto," says he, "it has been supposed that only one species of Humming Bird (the Trochilus Colubris) ever visits the United States. Although this is a genus consisting of upwards of a hundred species, all of which are peculiar to the Continent of America and the adjoining islands, yet with few exceptions they are confined to the tropics. In those warm climates, where the Bignonias and other tubular flowers that bloom throughout the year, and innumerable insects that sport in the sun-shine, afford an abundance of food, these lively birds are the greatest ornaments of the gardens and forests. Such in most cases is the brilliancy of their plumage, that I am unable to find apt objects of comparison unless I resort to the most brilliant gems and the richest metals. So rapid is their flight that they seem to outstrip the wind. Almost always on the wing, we scarcely see them in any other position. Living on the honeyed sweets of the most beautiful flowers, and the minute insects concealed in their corollas, they come to us as etherial beings, and it is not surprising that they should have excited the wonder and admiration of mankind.
"It affords me great pleasure to introduce to the lovers of Natural History a second species of Humming Bird as an inhabitant of the United States. The specimen which is now in my possession, was obtained by Dr STROBEL at Key West in East Florida. He informed me that he had succeeded in capturing it from a bush where he had found it seated, apparently wearied after its long flight across the Gulf of Mexico, probably from some of the West India Islands, or the coast of South America. Whether this species is numerous in any part of Florida, I have had no means of ascertaining. The interior of that territory, as its name indicates, is the land of flowers, and consequently well suited to the peculiar habits of this genus; and as it has seldom been visited by ornithologists, it is possible that not only this, but several other species of Humming Birds, may yet be discovered as inhabitants of our southern country.
"I have not seen the splendid engravings of this genus by Messrs VIEILLOT and AUDEBERT, in which the Trochilus Mango is said to be figured; but from the description contained in LATHAM'S Synopsis and SHAW'S Zoology, I have no hesitation in pronouncing it an individual of this species."
The female figures introduced in the plate were taken from a specimen procured at Charleston; but whether it had been found in the United States or not, could not be ascertained.
TROCHILUS MANGO, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 191.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 307.
MANGO HUMMING BIRD, Lath. Synops. vol. ii. p. 758.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXXIV. Fig. 1, 2, 3.
Bill long, subulate, depressed at the base, slightly arched, flexible; upper mandible with the back broad and convex, the sides sloping, the edges soft; lower mandible with the angle extremely acute, forming a groove for one-half of its length, the remaining part narrower on the back, the sides erect; both mandibles deeply channelled internally, nostrils basal, lateral, linear. Head small, neck short, body short, moderately robust. Feet very short and feeble; tarsus very short, roundish; toes very small, the three anterior united at the base, scutellate above, compressed, differing little in length; claws small, arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage soft and blended. Wings long, extremely narrow, falciform, the first quill longest, the other primaries gradually diminishing in length; the secondaries extremely short, narrow, and rounded. Tail ample, rather long, of ten broad rounded feathers, the outer incurvate.
Bill black. Iris brown. Feet dusky. Head, hind-neck and back splendent with bronze, golden, and green reflections; wings dusky, viewed in certain lights deep purplish-brown. Middle tail-feathers black, glossed with green and blue, the rest deep crimson-purple, tipped and partially margined with steel-blue. Fore part of the neck, and middle of the breast, velvet-black, margined on each side with emerald-green, the sides yellowish-green.
Length 4¾ inches, extent of wings 8; bill 1; tarsus 2½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXXIV. Fig. 4, 5.
The bill, feet and sides, as in the Male, as are the upper parts, only the tail-feathers are more broadly and extensively margined with the dark colour, and tipped with white. The fore-neck and centre of the breast are white, with a central longitudinal band of black, and an emerald-green margin along the sides of the neck, passing beneath the wing, the lower tail-coverts green, slightly tipped with brownish-white.
Length 4½ inches.
LARGE-FLOWERED BIGNONIA.
BIGNONIA GRANDIFLORA, Willd.—DIDYNAMIA ANGIOSPERMIA, Linn. BIGNONIACEÆ, Juss.
Leaves pinnate, leaflets ovate, acuminate, inciso-serrate; flowers in a terminal panicle, large, the tube of the corolla twice as long as the calyx. For the beautiful drawing from which this plant has been engraved, I am indebted to Miss M. MARTIN.
BACHMAN'S WARBLER.
SYLVIA BACHMANII.
PLATE CLXXXV. MALE AND FEMALE.
My friend BACHMAN has the merit of having discovered this pretty little species of Warbler, and to him I have the pleasure of acknowledging my obligations for the pair which you will find represented in the plate, accompanied with a figure of one of the most beautiful of our southern flowers, originally drawn by my friend's sister, Miss MARTIN. I myself have never had the good fortune to meet with any individuals of this interesting Sylvia, respecting which little is as yet known, its discoverer having only procured a few specimens of both sexes, without being able to find a nest. The first obtained was found by him a few miles from Charleston, in South Carolina, in July 1833, while I was rambling over the crags of Labrador. According to my amiable friend, it was "a lively active bird, gliding among the branches of thick bushes, occasionally mounting on the wing and seizing insects in the air in the manner of a Flycatcher. It was an old female that had to all appearance just reared a brood of young." Shortly after, several were seen in the same neighbourhood; so that we may yet expect an account of its manners, migration, and breeding, which may find a place in a subsequent volume of my work.
BACHMAN'S WARBLER, SYLVIA BACHMANII.
Adult Male. Plate CLXXXV. Fig. 1.
Bill rather long, slightly bent towards the tip, subulato-conical, extremely acute, the edges sharp and inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical, half-closed above by an arched membrane. The general form slender. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus slender, compressed, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes free, the hind toe strong, the two lateral nearly equal, the middle one much longer; claws slender, arched, compressed, acute.
Plumage soft and blended, slightly glossed. Wings of moderate length, the first four quills nearly equal, the second longest; the second, third, and fourth slightly cut out on the outer edge towards the end; the secondaries long and rounded. Tail of ordinary length, slightly emarginate.
Bill dusky brown above, light blue beneath. Iris dark brown. Feet umber. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-olive, the rump yellowish-green, the feathers of the crown brownish-black in the centre; the forehead, a line over the eye, the cheeks, the chin, the sides of the neck, the flexure of the wing, lower wing-coverts, and breast, yellow; the sides greenish-grey, the lower tail-coverts white. On the fore part of the neck is a large patch of black, enlarging beneath. Quills and tail wood-brown, narrowly margined with whitish; a large white spot on the inner web of each of the tail-feathers excepting the two middle ones.
Length 4-1/12 inches, extent of wings 6¼; bill along the ridge 5½/12, along the edge 7½/12; tarsus 8½/12.
Adult Female. Plate CLXXXV. Fig. 2.
The female is considerably smaller than the male, and differs only in having the tints fainter, the forehead yellowish-green, and the fore neck dusky.
Length 3-10/12.
GORDONIA PUBESCENS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 841. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 451.—MONADELPHIA POLYANDRIA, Linn. MALVACEÆ, Juss.
This beautiful tree, which grows in Georgia, seldom attains a height of more than fifteen feet. Its leaves are obovato-lanceolate, deep green, downy beneath, and its large white flowers, with their numerous yellow anthers, have a very beautiful appearance.
THE BAY OF FUNDY.
It was in the month of May that I sailed in the United States' Revenue Cutter the Swiftsure, engaged in a cruize in the Bay of Fundy. Our sails were quickly unfurled, and spread out to the breeze. The vessel seemed to fly over the surface of the liquid element, as the sun rose in full splendour, while the clouds that floated here and there formed, with their glowing hues, a rich contrast with the pure azure of the heavens above us. We approached apace the island of Grand Manan, of which the stupendous cliffs gradually emerged from the deep with the majestic boldness of her noblest native chief. Soon our bark passed beneath its craggy head, covered with trees, which, on account of the height, seemed scarcely larger than shrubs. The prudent Raven spread her pinions, launched from the cliff, and flew away before us; the Golden Eagle soaring aloft, moved majestically along in wide circles; the Guillemots sat on their eggs upon the shelvy precipices, or plunging into the water, dived, and rose again at a great distance; the Broad-breasted Eider Duck covered her eggs among the grassy tufts; on a naked rock the seal lazily basked, its sleek sides glistening in the sunshine; while shoals of porpoises were swiftly gliding through the waters around us, shewing by their gambols that, although doomed to the deep, their life was not devoid of pleasure. Far away stood the bold shores of Nova Scotia, gradually fading in the distance, of which the grey tints beautifully relieved the wing-like sails of many a fishing bark.
Cape after cape, forming eddies and counter currents far too terrific to be described by a landsman, we passed in succession, until we reached a deep cove, near the shores of White Head Island, which is divided from Grand Manan by a narrow strait, where we anchored secure from every blast that could blow. In a short time we found ourselves under the roof of Captain FRANKLAND, the sole owner of the isle, of which the surface contains about fifteen hundred acres. He received us all with politeness, and gave us permission to seek out its treasures, which we immediately set about doing, for I was anxious to study the habits of certain Gulls that breed there in great numbers. As Captain COOLEDGE, our worthy commander, had assured me, we found them on their nests on almost every tree of a wood that covered several acres. What a treat, reader, was it to find birds of this kind lodged on fir trees, and sitting comfortably on their eggs! Their loud cackling notes led us to their place of resort, and ere long we had satisfactorily observed their habits, and collected as many of themselves and their eggs as we considered sufficient. In our walks we noticed a rat, the only quadruped found in the island, and observed abundance of gooseberries, currants, rasps, strawberries, and huckleberries. Seating ourselves on the summit of the rocks, in view of the vast Atlantic, we spread out our stores, and refreshed ourselves with our simple fare.
Now we followed the objects of our pursuit through the tangled woods, now carefully picked our steps over the spongy grounds. The air was filled with the melodious concerts of birds, and all nature seemed to smile in quiet enjoyment. We wandered about until the setting sun warned us to depart, when, returning to the house of the proprietor, we sat down to an excellent repast, and amused ourselves with relating anecdotes and forming arrangements for the morrow. Our Captain complimented us on our success, when we reached the Swiftsure, and in due time we betook ourselves to our hammocks.
The next morning, a strange sail appearing in the distance, preparations were instantly made to pay her commander a visit. The signal-staff of White Head Island displayed the British flag, while Captain FRANKLAND and his men stood on the shore, and as we gave our sails to the wind, three hearty cheers filled the air, and were instantly responded to by us. The vessel was soon approached, but all was found right with her, and squaring our yards, onward we sped, cheerily bounding over the gay billows, until our Captain sent us ashore at Eastport.
At another time my party was received on board the Revenue Cutter's tender the "Fancy,"—a charming name for so beautiful a craft. We set sail towards evening. The cackling of the "old wives" that covered the bay filled me with delight, and thousands of Gulls and Cormorants seemed as if anxious to pilot us into Head Harbour Bay, where we anchored for the night. Leaping on the rugged shore, we made our way to the lighthouse, where we found Mr SNELLING, a good and honest Englishman from Devonshire. His family consisted of three wild looking lasses, beautiful, like the most finished productions of nature. In his lighthouse, snugly ensconced, he spent his days in peaceful forgetfulness of the world, subsisting principally on the fish of the bay.
When day broke, how delightful was it to see fair Nature open her graceful eyelids, and present herself arrayed in all that was richest and purest before her Creator. Ah, reader, how indelibly are such moments engraved on my soul! with what ardour have I at such times gazed around me, full of the desire of being enabled to comprehend all that I saw! How often have I longed to converse with the feathered inhabitants of the forest, all of which seemed then intent on offering up their thanks to the object of my own admiration! But the wish could not be gratified, although I now feel satisfied that I have enjoyed as much of the wonders and beauties of nature as it was proper for me to enjoy. The delightful trills of the Winter Wren rolled through the underwood, the red squirrel smacked time with his chops, the loud notes of the Robin sounded clearly from the tops of the trees, the rosy Grosbeak nipped the tender blossoms of the maples, and high over head the Loons passed in pairs, rapidly wending their way toward far distant shores. Would that I could have followed in their wake!
The hour of our departure had come; and, as we sailed up the bay, our pilot, who had been fishing for cod, was taken on board. A few of his fish were roasted on a plank before the embers, and formed the principal part of our breakfast. The breeze was light, and it was not until after noon that we arrived at Point Lepreaux Harbour, where every one, making choice of his course, went in search of curiosities and provender.
Now, reader, the little harbour in which, if you wish it, we shall suppose we still are, is renowned for a circumstance which I feel much inclined to endeavour to explain to you. Several species of Ducks, that in myriads cover the waters of the Bay of Fundy, are at times destroyed in this particular spot in a very singular manner. When July has come, all the water-birds that are no longer capable of reproducing, remain like so many forlorn bachelors and old maids, to renew their plumage along the shores. At the period when these poor birds are unfit for flight, troops of Indians make their appearance in light bark-canoes, paddled by their squaws and papooses. They form their flotilla into an extended curve, and drive before them the birds, not in silence, but with simultaneous horrific yells, at the same time beating the surface of the water with long poles and paddles. Terrified by the noise, the birds swim a long way before them, endeavouring to escape with all their might. The tide is high, every cove is filled; and into the one where we now are, thousands of Ducks are seen entering. The Indians have ceased to shout, and the canoes advance side by side. Time passes on, the tide swiftly recedes as it rose, and there are the birds left on the beach. See with what pleasure each wild inhabitant of the forest seizes his stick, the squaws and younglings following with similar weapons! Look at them rushing on their prey, falling on the disabled birds, and smashing them with their cudgels, until all are destroyed! In this manner upwards of five hundred wild fowls have often been procured in a few hours.
Three pleasant days were spent about Point Lepreaux, when the Fancy spread her wings to the breeze. In one harbour we fished for shells, with a capital dredge, and in another searched along the shore for eggs. The Passamaquody chief is seen gliding swiftly over the deep in his fragile bark. He has observed a porpoise breathing. Watch him, for now he is close upon the unsuspecting dolphin. He rises erect, aims his musket; smoke rises curling from the pan, and rushes from the iron tube, when soon after the report comes on the ear;—meantime the porpoise has suddenly turned back downwards;—it is dead. The body weighs a hundred pounds or more, but this to the tough-fibred son of the woods is nothing; he reaches it with his muscular arms, and at a single jerk, while with his legs he dexterously steadies the canoe, he throws it lengthwise at his feet. Amidst the highest waves of the Bay of Fundy, these feats are performed by the Indians during the whole of the season when the porpoises resort thither.
You have often no doubt heard of the extraordinary tides of this bay; so had I, but, like others, I was loth to believe that the reports were strictly true. So I went to the pretty town of Windsor, in Nova Scotia, to judge for myself. But let us leave the Fancy for a while, and fancy ourselves at Windsor. Late one day in August, my companions and I were seated on the grassy and elevated bank of the river, about eighty feet or so above its bed, which was almost dry, and extended for nine miles below like a sandy wilderness. Many vessels lay on the high banks, taking in their lading of gypsum. We thought the appearance very singular, but we were too late to watch the tide that evening. Next morning we resumed our station, and soon perceived the water flowing towards us, and rising with a rapidity of which we had previously seen no example. We planted along the steep declivity of the bank a number of sticks, each three feet long, the base of one being placed on a level with the top of that below it, and when about half flow the tide reached their tops, one after another, rising three feet in ten minutes, or eighteen in the hour; and, at high water, the surface was sixty-five feet above the bed of the river! On looking for the vessels which we had seen the preceding evening, we were told that most of them had gone with the night tide.
But now we are again on board the Fancy; Mr CLAREDGE stands near the pilot, who sits next to the man at the helm. On we move swiftly, for the breeze has freshened; many islands we pass in succession; the wind increases to a gale; with reefed sails we dash along, and now rapidly pass a heavily laden sloop gallantly running across our course with undiminished sail; when suddenly we see her upset. Staves and spars are floating around, and presently we observe three men scrambling up her sides, and seating themselves on the keel, where they make signals of distress to us. By this time we have run to a great distance; but CLAREDGE, cool and prudent, as every seaman ought to be, has already issued his orders to the helmsman and crew, and now near the wind we gradually approach the sufferers. A line is thrown to them, and next moment we are alongside the vessel. A fisher's boat, too, has noticed the disaster; and, with long strokes of her oars, advances, now rising on the curling wave, and now sinking out of sight. By our mutual efforts the men are brought on board, and the sloop is slowly towed into a safe harbour. In an hour after my party was safely landed at Eastport, where, on looking over the waters, and observing the dense masses of vapour that veiled the shores, we congratulated ourselves at having escaped from the Bay of Fundy.
THE PINNATED GROUS.
TETRAO CUPIDO, LINN.
PLATE CLXXXVI. MALE AND FEMALE.
It has been my good fortune to study the habits of this species of Grous, at a period when, in the district in which I resided, few other birds of any kind were more abundant. I allude to the lower parts of the States of Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri. Twenty-five years and more have elapsed since many of the notes to which I now recur were written, and at that period I little imagined that the observations which I recorded should ever be read by any other individuals than those composing my own family, all of whom participated in my admiration of the works of Nature.
The Barrens of Kentucky are by no means so sterile as they have sometimes been represented. Their local appellation, however, had so much deceived me, before I travelled over them, that I expected to find nothing but an undulated extent of rocky ground, destitute of vegetation, and perforated by numberless caverns. My ideas were soon corrected. I saw the Barrens for the first time in the early days of June, and as I entered them from the skirts of an immense forest, I was surprised at the beauty of the prospect before me. Flowers without number, and vying with each other in their beautiful tints, sprung up amidst the luxuriant grass; the fields, the orchards, and the gardens of the settlers, presented an appearance of plenty, scarcely any where exceeded; the wild fruit-trees, having their branches interlaced with grape-vines, promised a rich harvest; and at every step I trode on ripe and fragrant strawberries. When I looked around, an oak knob rose here and there before me, a charming grove embellished a valley, gently sloping hills stretched out into the distance, while at hand the dark entrance of some cavern attracted my notice, or a bubbling spring gushing forth at my feet seemed to invite me to rest and refresh myself with its cooling waters. The timid deer snuffed the air, as it gracefully bounded off, the Wild Turkey led her young ones in silence among the tall herbage, and the bees bounded from flower to blossom. If I struck the stiff foliage of a black-jack oak, or rustled among the sumachs and brambles, perchance there fluttered before me in dismay the frightened Grous and her cowering brood. The weather was extremely beautiful, and I thought that the Barrens must have been the parts from which Kentucky derived her name of the "Garden of the West!"
There it was, that, year after year, and each successive season, I studied the habits of the Pinnated Grous. It was there that, before sunrise, or at the close of day, I heard its curious boomings, witnessed its obstinate battles, watched it during the progress of its courtships, noted its nest and eggs, and followed its young until, fully grown, they betook themselves to their winter quarters.
When I first removed to Kentucky, the Pinnated Grous were so abundant, that they were held in no higher estimation as food than the most common flesh, and no "hunter of Kentucky" deigned to shoot them. They were, in fact, looked upon with more abhorrence than the Crows are at present in Massachusetts and Maine, on account of the mischief they committed among the fruit trees of the orchards during winter, when they fed on their buds, or while in the spring months they picked up the grain in the fields. The farmer's children or those of his Negroes were employed to drive them away with rattles from morning to night, and also caught them in pens and traps of various kinds. In those days, during the winter, the Grous would enter the farm-yard and feed with the poultry, alight on the houses, or walk in the very streets of the villages. I recollect having caught several in a stable at Henderson, where they had followed some Wild Turkeys. In the course of the same winter, a friend of mine, who was fond of practising rifle-shooting, killed upwards of forty in one morning, but picked none of them up, so satiated with Grous was he, as well as every member of his family. My own servants preferred the fattest flitch of bacon to their flesh, and not unfrequently laid them aside as unfit for cooking.
Such an account may appear strange to you, reader; but what will you think when I tell you, that, in that same country, where, twenty-five years ago they could not have been sold at more than one cent. a-piece, scarcely one is now to be found? The Grous have abandoned the State of Kentucky, and removed (like the Indians) every season farther to the westward, to escape from the murderous white man. In the Eastern States, where some of these birds still exist, game-laws have been made for their protection during a certain part of the year, when, after all, few escape to breed the next season. To the westward you must go as far at least as the State of Illinois, before you meet with this species of Grous, and there too, as formerly in Kentucky, they are decreasing at a rapid rate. The sportsman of the Eastern States now makes much ado to procure them, and will travel with friends and dogs, and all the paraphernalia of hunting, an hundred miles or more, to shoot at most a dozen braces in a fortnight; and when he returns successful to the city, the important results are communicated by letter to all concerned. So rare have they become in the markets of Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, that they sell at from five to ten dollars the pair. An excellent friend of mine, resident in the city of New York, told me that he refused 100 dollars for ten brace, which he had shot on the Pocano mountains of Pennsylvania.