Ornithological biography, Vol. 3 (of 5) (part 3 of 4)

Ornithological biography, Vol. 3 (of 5) (part 3 of 4)

A few hours ago the sun went down far beyond the “far west.” The woodland choristers have disappeared, the matron has cradled her babe, and betaken herself to the spinning-wheel; the woodsman, his sons, and “the stranger” are chatting before a blazing fire, making wise reflections on past events, and anticipating those that are to come. Autumn, sallow and sad, prepares to bow her head to the keen blast of approaching winter; the corn, though still on its stalk, has lost its blades; the wood pile is as large as the woodsman’s cabin; the nights have become chill, and each new morn has effected a gradual change in the dews, which now crust the withered herbage with a coat of glittering white. The sky is still cloudless; a thousand twinkling stars reflect their light from the tranquil waters; all is silent and calm in the forest, save the nightly prowlers that roam in its recesses. In the cheerful cabin all is happiness; its inmates generously strive to contribute to the comfort of the stranger who has chanced to visit them; and, as racoons are abundant in the neighbourhood, they propose a hunt. The offer is gladly accepted. The industrious woman leaves her wheel, for she has listened to her husband’s talk; now she approaches the fire, takes up the board shovel, stirs the embers, produces a basket filled with sweet potatoes, arranges its contents side by side in front of the hearth, and covers them with hot ashes and glowing coals. All this she does, because she “guesses” that hungry stomachs will be calling for food when the sport is over. Ah! Reader, what “homely joys” there are in such scenes, and how you would enjoy them! The rich may produce a better, or a more sumptuous meal; but his feelings can never be like those of the poor woodsman. Poor I ought not to call him, for nature and industry bountifully supply all his wants; the woods and rivers produce his chief dainties, and his toils are his pleasures.

Now mark him! the bold Kentuckian is on his feet; his sons and the stranger prepare for the march. Horns and rifles are in requisition. The goodman opens the wooden-hinged door, and sends forth a blast loud enough to scare a wolf. The racoons scamper away from the cornfields, break through the fences, and hie to the woods. The hunter has taken an axe from the wood-pile, and returning, assures us that the night is clear, and that we shall have rare sport. He blows through his rifle, to ascertain that it is clear, examines his flint, and thrusts a feather into the touch-hole. To a leathern bag swung at his side is attached a powder-horn; his sheathed knife is there also; below hangs a narrow strip of home-spun linen. He takes from his bag a bullet, pulls with his teeth the wooden stopper from his powder-horn, lays the ball on one hand, and with the other pours the powder upon it until it is just overtopped. Raising the horn to his mouth, he again closes it with the stopper, and restores it to its place. He introduces the powder into the tube; springs the box of his gun, greases the “patch” over with some melted tallow, or damps it; then places it on the honeycombed muzzle of his piece. The bullet is placed on the patch over the bore, and pressed with the handle of the knife, which now trims the edges of the linen. The elastic hickory rod, held with both hands, smoothly pushes the ball to its bed: once, twice, thrice has it rebounded. The rifle leaps as it were into the hunter’s arms, the feather is drawn from the touch-hole, the powder fills the pan, which is closed. “Now I’m ready,” cries the woodsman. His companions say the same. Hardly more than a minute has elapsed. I wish, Reader, you had seen this fine fellow—but hark! the dogs are barking.

All is now bustle within and without: a servant lights a torch, and off we march to the woods. “Don’t mind the boys, my dear sir,” says the woodsman, “follow me close, for the ground is covered with logs, and the grape vines hang everywhere across.” “Toby, hold up the light, man, or we’ll never see the gullies.” “Trail your gun, sir, as General CLARK used to say,—not so, but this way—that’s it; now then, no danger you see; no fear of snakes, poor things! They are stiff enough, I’ll be bound. The dogs have treed one. Toby, you old fool, why don’t you turn to the right—not so much there—go a-head, and give us light—What’s that?—Who’s there?—Ah, you young rascals! you’ve played us a trick, have you. It’s all well enough, but now, just keep behind, or I’ll”—and in fact, the boys, with eyes good enough to see in the dark, although not quite so well as an Owl’s, had cut directly across the dogs, which had surprised a racoon on the ground and bayed it, until the lads knocked it on the head. “Seek him, boys,” cries the hunter.—The dogs, putting their noses to the ground, pushed off at a good rate. “Master, they’re making for the creek,” says old Toby. On towards it therefore we push. What woods, to be sure! No gentleman’s park this, I assure you, Reader. We are now in a low flat; the soil thinly covers the hard clay; nothing but beech trees hereabouts, unless now and then a maple. Hang the limbs! say I—hang the supple-jacks too—here I am, fast by the neck—cut it with your knife. My knee has had a tremendous rub against a log—now, my foot is jammed between two roots—and here I stick. “Toby, come back—don’t you know the stranger is not up to the woods. Halloo, Toby, Toby!” There I stood perfectly shackled, the hunter laughing heartily, and the lads glad of an opportunity of slipping off. Toby arrived, and held the torch near the ground, on which the hunter cutting one of the roots with his hatchet, set me free. “Are you hurt, Sir?”—no, not in the least. Off we start again. The boys had got up with the dogs, which were baying a Racoon in a small puddle. We soon joined them with the light. “Now, stranger! watch and see!” The Racoon was all but swimming, and yet had hold of the bottom of the pool with his feet. The glare of the lighted torch was doubtless distressing to him; his coat was ruffled, and his rounded tail seemed thrice its ordinary size, his eyes shone like emeralds; with foaming jaws he watched the dogs, ready to seize each by the snout if it came within reach. They kept him busy for several minutes; the water became thick with mud; his coat now hung dripping, and his draggled tail lay floating on the surface. His guttural growlings, in place of intimidating his assailants, excited them the more; and they very unceremoniously closed upon him, curs as they were, and without the breeding of gentle dogs! One seized him by the rump and tugged, but was soon forced to let go; another stuck to his side, but soon taking a better directed bite of his muzzle than another dog had just done of his tail, coon made him yelp; and pitiful were the cries of luckless Tyke. The Racoon would not let go, but in the mean time the other dogs seized him fast, and worried him to death, yet to the last he held by his antagonist’s snout. Knocked on the head by an axe, he lay gasping his last breath, and the heaving of his chest was painful to see. The hunters stood gazing at him in the pool, while all around was by the flare of the torch rendered trebly dark and dismal. It was a good scene for a skilful painter.

We had now two coons, whose furs were worth two quarters of a dollar, and whose bodies, which I must not forget, as Toby informed us, would produce two more. “What now,” I asked—“What now,” quoth the father, “why go after more to be sure.” So we did, the dogs ahead, and I far behind. In a short time the curs treed another, and when we came up, we found them seated on their haunches, looking upwards, and barking. The hunters now employed their axes, and sent the chips about at such a rate that one of them coming in contact with my cheek marked it so, that a week after several of my friends asked me where, in the name of wonder, I had got that black eye. At length the tree began to crack, and slowly leaning to one side, the heavy mass swung rustling through the air, and fell to the earth with a crash. It was not one coon that was surprised here, but three—aye three of them, one of which, more crafty than the rest, leaped fairly from the main top while the tree was staggering. The other two stuck to the hollow of a branch, from which they were soon driven by one of the dogs. Tyke and Lion having nosed the cunning old one, scampered after him, not mouthing like the well-trained hounds of our southern fox hunters, but yelling like furies. The hunter’s sons attacked those on the tree, while the woodsman and I, preceded by Toby, made after the other; and busy enough we all were. Our animal was of extraordinary size, and after some parley, a rifle ball was sent through his brain. He reeled once only,—next moment he lay dead. The rest were dispatched by the axe and the club, for a shot in those days was too valuable to be spent when it could be saved. It could procure a deer, and therefore was worth more than a coon’s skin.

Now, look at the moon! how full and clear has she risen on the Racoon hunters! Now is the time for sport! Onward we go, one following the long shadow of his precursor. The twigs are no impediment, and we move at a brisker pace, as we return to the hills. What a hue and cry!—here are the dogs. Overhead and all around, on the forks of each tree, the hunter’s keen eye searches for something round, which is likely to prove a coiled up Racoon. There’s one! Between me and the moon I spied the cunning thing crouched in silence. After taking aim, I raise my barrel ever so little, the trigger is pressed; down falls the Racoon to the ground. Another and another are on the same tree. Off goes a bullet, then a second; and we secure the prey. “Let us go home, stranger,” says the woodsman; and contented with our sport, towards his cabin we trudge. On arriving there, we find a cheerful fire. Toby stays without, prepares the game, stretches the skins on a frame of cane, and washes the bodies. The table is already set; the cake and the potatoes are all well done; four bowls of butter-milk are ranged in order; and now the hunters fall to.

The Racoon is a cunning animal, and makes a pleasant pet. Monkey-like, it is quite dexterous in the use of its fore feet, and it will amble after its master, in the manner of a bear, and even follow him into the street. It is fond of eggs, but prefers them raw, and it matters not whether it be morning, noon, or night, when it finds a dozen in the pheasant’s nest, or one placed in your pocket to please him. He knows the habits of mussels better than most conchologists. Being an expert climber, he ascends to the hole of the woodpecker, and devours the young birds. He knows, too, how to watch the soft-shelled turtle’s crawl, and, better still, how to dig up her eggs. Now by the edge of the pond, grimalkin-like, he lies seemingly asleep, until the summer-duck comes within reach. No Negro knows better when the corn is juicy and pleasant to eat; and although squirrels and woodpeckers know this too, the Racoon is found in the corn-field longer in the season than any of them, the havock he commits there amounting to a tithe. His fur is good in winter, and many think his flesh good also; but for my part I prefer a live Racoon to a dead one, and should find more pleasure in hunting one than in eating him.

THE LONG-BILLED CURLEW.

NUMENIUS LONGIROSTRIS, WILS.

PLATE CCXXXI. MALE AND FEMALE.

The Long-billed Curlew is a constant resident in the southern districts of the United States, whereas the other species are only autumnal and winter visitors. It is well known by the inhabitants of Charleston that it breeds on the islands on the coast of South Carolina; and my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN has been at their breeding grounds. That some individuals go far north to breed, is possible enough, but we have no authentic account of such an occurrence, although many suppositions have been recorded. All that I have to say on this subject is, that the bird in question is quite unknown in the Magdeleine Islands, where, notwithstanding the assertions of the fishermen, they acknowledged that they had mistaken Godwits for Curlews. In Newfoundland, I met with a well-informed English gentleman, who had resided in that island upwards of twenty years, and described the Common Curlew of Europe with accuracy, but who assured me that he had observed only two species of Curlew there, one about the size of the Whimbrel—the Numenius hudsonicus, the other smaller—the N. borealis, and that only in August and the beginning of September, when they spend a few days in that country, feed on berries, and then retire southward. Mr JONES of Labrador, and his brother-in-law, who is a Scotch gentleman, a scholar, and a sportsman, gave me the same account. None of my party observed an individual of the species in the course of our three months’ stay in the country, although we saw great numbers of the true Esquimaux Curlew, N. borealis. Yet I would not have you to suppose that I do not give credit to the reports of some travellers, who have said that the Long-billed Curlew is found in the fur countries during summer. This may be true enough; but none of the great northern travellers, such as RICHARDSON, ROSS, PARRY, or FRANKLIN, have asserted this as a fact. Therefore if the bird of which I speak has been seen far north, it was in all probability a few stragglers that had perhaps been enticed to follow some other species. I am well aware of the propensity it has to ramble, as I have shot some in Missouri, Indiana, Kentucky, Arkansas, and Mississippi; but the birds thus obtained were rare in those districts, where the species only appears at remote periods; and in every instance of the kind I have found the individuals much less shy than usual, and apparently more perplexed than frightened by the sight of man.

Until my learned friend, Prince CHARLES BONAPARTE, corrected the errors which had been made respecting the Curlews of North America, hardly one of these birds was known from another by any naturalist, American or European. To WILSON, however, is due the merit of having first published an account of the Long-billed Curlew as a species distinct from the Common Curlew of Europe.

This bird is the largest of the genus found in North America. The great length of its bill is of itself sufficient to distinguish it from every other. The bill, however, in all the species, differs greatly, according to the age of the individual, and in the present Curlew I have seen it in some birds nearly three inches shorter than in others, although all were full grown. In many of its habits, the Long-billed Curlew is closely allied to the smaller species of Ibis; its flight and manner of feeding are similar, and it has the same number of eggs. Unlike the Ibis, however, which always breeds on trees, and forms a large nest, the Curlew breeds on the ground, forming a scanty receptacle for its eggs; yet, according to my friend BACHMAN, the latter, like the former, places its nests “so close together, that it is almost impossible for a man to walk between them, without injuring the eggs.”

The Long-billed Curlew spends the day in the sea-marshes, from which it returns at the approach of night, to the sandy beaches of the sea-shores, where it rests until dawn. As the sun sinks beneath the horizon, the Curlews rise from their feeding-grounds in small parties, seldom exceeding fifteen or twenty, and more usually composed of only five or six individuals. The flocks enlarge, however, as they proceed, and in the course of an hour or so the number of birds that collect in the place selected for their nightly retreat, sometimes amounts to several thousands. As it was my good fortune to witness their departures and arrivals, in the company of my friend BACHMAN, I will here describe them.

Accompanied by several friends, I left Charleston one beautiful morning, the 10th of November 1831, with a view to visit Cole’s Island, about twenty miles distant. Our crew was good, and although our pilot knew but little of the cuttings in and out of the numerous inlets and channels in our way, we reached the island about noon. After shooting various birds, examining the island, and depositing our provisions in a small summer habitation then untenanted, we separated; some of the servants went off to fish, others to gather oysters, and the gunners placed themselves in readiness for the arrival of the Curlews. The sun at length sunk beneath the water-line that here formed the horizon; and we saw the birds making their first appearance. They were in small parties of two, three, or five, and by no means shy. These seemed to be the birds which we had observed near the salt-marshes, as we were on our way. As the twilight became darker the number of Curlews increased, and the flocks approached in quicker succession, until they appeared to form a continuous procession, moving not in lines, one after another, but in an extended mass, and with considerable regularity, at a height of not more than thirty yards, the individuals being a few feet apart. Not a single note or cry was heard as they advanced. They moved for ten or more yards with regular flappings, and then sailed for a few seconds, as is invariably the mode of flight of this species, their long bills and legs stretched out to their full extent. They flew directly towards their place of rest, called the “Bird Banks,” and were seen to alight without performing any of the evolutions which they exhibit when at their feeding-places, for they had not been disturbed that season. But when we followed them to the Bird Banks, which are sandy islands of small extent, the moment they saw us land the congregated flocks, probably amounting to several thousand individuals all standing close together, rose at once, performed a few evolutions in perfect silence, and re-alighted as if with one accord on the extreme margins of the sand-bank close to tremendous breakers. It was now dark, and we left the place, although some flocks were still arriving. The next morning we returned a little before day; but again as we landed, they all rose a few yards in the air, separated into numerous parties, and dispersing in various directions, flew off towards their feeding-grounds, keeping low over the waters, until they reached the shores, when they ascended to the height of about a hundred yards, and soon disappeared.

Now, Reader, allow me to say a few words respecting our lodgings. Fish, fowl, and oysters had been procured in abundance; and besides these delicacies, we had taken with us from Charleston some steaks of beef, and a sufficiency of good beverage. But we had no cook, save your humble servant. A blazing fire warmed and lighted our only apartment. The oysters and fish were thrown on the hot embers; the steaks we stuck on sticks in front of them; and ere long every one felt perfectly contented. It is true we had forgotten to bring salt with us; but I soon proved to my merry companions that hunters can find a good substitute in their powder-flasks. Our salt on this occasion was gunpowder, as it has been with me many a time; and to our keen appetites, the steaks thus salted were quite as savoury as any of us ever found the best cooked at home. Our fingers and mouths, no doubt, bore marks of the “villanous saltpetre,” or rather of the charcoal with which it was mixed, for plates or forks we had none; but this only increased our mirth. Supper over, we spread out our blankets on the log floor, extended ourselves on them with our feet towards the fire, and our arms under our heads for pillows. I need not tell you how soundly we slept.

The Long-billed Curlews are in general easily shot, but take a good charge. So long as life remains in them, they skulk off among the thickest plants, remaining perfectly silent. Should they fall on the water, they swim towards the shore. The birds that may have been in company with a wounded one fly off uttering a few loud whistling notes. In this respect, the species differs from all the others, which commonly remain and fly about you. When on land, they are extremely wary; and unless the plants are high, and you can conceal yourself from them, it is very difficult to get near enough. Some one of the flock, acting as sentinel, raises his wings, as if about to fly, and sounds a note of alarm, on which they all raise their wings, close them again, give over feeding, and watch all your motions. At times a single step made by you beyond a certain distance is quite enough to raise them, and the moment it takes place, they all scream and fly off. You need not follow the flock. The best mode of shooting them is to watch their course for several evenings in succession; for after having chosen a resting place, they are sure to return to it by the same route, until greatly annoyed.

The food of the Long-billed Curlews consists principally of the small crabs called fiddlers, which they seize by running after them, or by pulling them out of their burrows. They probe the wet sand to the full length of their bill, in quest of sea-worms and other animals. They are also fond of small salt-water shell-fish, insects, and worms of any kind; but I have never seen them searching for berries on elevated lands, as the Esquimaux Curlews are wont to do. Their flesh is by no means so delicate as that of the species just mentioned, for it has usually a fishy taste, and is rarely tender, although many persons consider it good. They are sold at all seasons in the markets of Charleston, at about twenty-five cents the pair.

Rambling birds of this species are sometimes seen as far as the neighbourhood of Boston; for my learned friend THOMAS NUTTALL says in his Manual, that “they get so remarkably fat, at times, as to burst the skin in falling to the ground, and are then superior in flavour to almost any other game bird of the season. In the market of Boston, they are seen as early as the 8th of August.” I found them rather rare in East Florida in winter and spring. They were there seen either on large savannahs, or along the sea shore, mixed with marbled Godwits, Tell-tales, and other species.

NUMENIUS LONGIROSTRIS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 314.—Richards. and Swains. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 376.

LONG-BILLED CURLEW, NUMENIUS LONGIROSTRIS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p. 23. pl. 64. fig. 1. adult.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 94.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXI. Fig. 1.

Bill excessively elongated, being more than four times the length of head, very slender, subcylindrical, slightly compressed, nearly straight to the middle, beyond which it is slightly curved. Upper mandible with the ridge broad and flat at the base, broad and rounded in the rest of its extent, a deep groove running from the nostrils to near the tip, which is decurved, enlarged so as to form an oblong obtuse knob, projecting beyond the point of the lower mandible, the edges rounded, the inner surface with a deep narrow groove. Nostrils basal, lateral, longitudinal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible similar in its curvature to the upper, its angle extremely narrow, and extending to near the middle, the ridge rounded, the sides with a shallow groove to near the end, the edges directly meeting those of the upper mandible, the tip obtuse.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck long and slender. Body rather slender. Feet long and rather stout. Toes rather small, scutellate above; first very small, second and fourth about equal, third considerably longer, flat beneath and broadly marginate, the three anterior connected by short webs, of which the outer is much larger. Bare part of tibia covered with transverse series of angular scales, as is the upper part of the tarsus, its lower two-thirds with scutella in front. Claws small, compressed, blunt, that of middle toe largest, curved outwards, with a sharp dilated inner edge.

Plumage soft and blended, on the fore part of the head very short. Wings long, very acute, narrow, the first quill longest, the second a little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries of moderate length, slightly incurved, narrowly rounded, some of the inner greatly elongated and tapering. Tail short, much rounded, of twelve rounded feathers.

Upper mandible of a rich deep brown in its whole extent, as is the lower in its terminal half, its basal portion being flesh colour tinged with brown. Iris hazel. Feet light greyish-blue; claws dusky. The ground colour of the plumage is light yellowish-red; the head marked with oblong spots, the back with spots and bars of brownish-black. Alula and outer webs of first four quills deep brown, the rest of the quills of the general colour, barred on both webs with dark brown, as are the tail feathers. Chin or upper part of throat white, as is the lower eyelid; neck marked with longitudinal lines of brownish-black; sides barred with the same, as are the lower larger wing-coverts; the rest of the lower parts unspotted, the sides and under wing-coverts of a richer yellowish-red than the rest.

Length to end of tail 26 inches, to end of wings 25, to end of claws 29; extent of wings 40; wing from flexure 11-1/2; tail 4-1/4; bill along the back 8-1/2; along the edge of lower mandible 8; bare part of tibia 2; tarsus 3-7/12; middle toe 1-10/12 its claw (3-1/2)/12. Weight 1-3/4 lb.

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXI. Fig. 2.

The Female cannot be distinguished from the Male by external appearance.

The bill varies in length from 7 to 9 inches. It has been remarked that the tarsus of this species is scutellate anteriorly in its whole length, whereas that of N. arquata is scutellate on its lower half only; but this is incorrect; for both species have transverse series of small scales on the upper third of the tarsus.

THE HOODED MERGANSER.

MERGUS CUCULLATUS, LINN.

PLATE CCXXXII. MALE AND FEMALE.

Excepting the Smew or White Nun, the Hooded Merganser is the handsomest of its family. Its broad and rounded crest of pure white, with an edging of jetty black, and which it closes or spreads out at pleasure, renders the male of this species conspicuous on the waters to which it resorts. The activity of its motions, the rapidity of its flight, and its other habits, contribute to render it a pleasing object to the student of nature, not less than to the sportsman. Its flesh, however, has a fishy taste and odour, although it is relished by some persons. It seems to prefer fresh water, and is by no means very frequent along the sea coast. Long, narrow, and moderately deep creeks, or small ponds, are more frequented by it than large rivers or lakes.

On the waters of the Western and Southern States, these Mergansers are seen to arrive from the north early in October, but generally later than many species of Ducks, although sooner than either the Red-breasted Merganser or the Goosander. At the approach of night, a person standing still on the banks of such a river as the Ohio, first hears the well-known sound of wings whistling through the air, presently after, a different noise, as if produced by an eagle stooping on her prey, when gliding downwards with the rapidity of an arrow, he dimly perceives the Hooded Mergansers sweeping past. Five or six, perhaps ten, there are; with quick beats of their pinions, they fly low over the waters in wide circles. Now they have spied the entrance of a creek; there they shoot into it, and in a few seconds you hear the rushing noise which they make as they alight on the bosom of the still pool. How often have I enjoyed such scenes, when enticed abroad by the clear light of the silvery moon, I have wandered on the shores of la belle rivière, to indulge in the contemplation of nature!

Up the creek the Mergansers proceed, washing their bodies by short plunges, and splashing up the water about them. Then they plume themselves, and anoint their feathers, now and then emitting a low grunting note of pleasure. And now they dive in search of minnows, which they find in abundance, and which no doubt prove delicious food to the hungry travellers. At length, having satisfied their appetite, they rise on wing, fly low over the creek with almost incredible velocity, return to the broad stream, rove along its margin until they meet with a clean sand-beach, where they alight, and where, secure from danger, they repose until the return of day. A sly Racoon may, when in search of mussels, chance to meet with the sleeping birds, and surprise one of them; but this rarely happens, for they are as wary and vigilant as their enemy is cunning, and were the prowler to depend upon Hooded Mergansers for food, he would be lean enough.

This bird ranges throughout the United States during winter, content with the food it meets with in the bays and estuaries of the eastern coast, and on the inland streams. The dam of the Pennsylvania miller is as agreeable to it as that of the Carolina rice-planter. The Le High and Brandy-wine Creek have their fishes, as well as the waters of Bear Grass or Bayou Sara. Nay, the numerous streams and pools of the interior of the Floridas are resorted to by this species, and there I have found them full of life and gaiety, as well as on the Missouri, and on our great lakes. When the weather proves too cold for them they move southwards many of them removing towards Mexico.

The Hooded Merganser is a most expert diver, and so vigilant that at times it escapes even from the best percussion gun. As to shooting at it with a flint lock, you may save yourself the trouble unless you prevent it from seeing the flash of the pan. If you wound one, never follow it: the bird, when its strength is almost exhausted, immerses its body, raises the point of its bill above the surface, and in this manner makes its way among the plants, until finding some safe retreat along the shore, it betakes itself to it, and there remains, so that you may search for it in vain, unless you have a good dog. Even on wing it is not easily shot. If on a creek ever so narrow, it will fly directly towards its mouth, although you may be standing knee-deep in the middle. It comes up like a ball, rises and passes over head with astonishing speed, and if you shoot at it, do not calculate upon a hit. You may guess how many one may shoot in a day.

When I removed from Pennsylvania to Kentucky, the Hooded Merganser was not uncommon in the neighbourhood of Louisville during summer, and I told WILSON so. On several occasions I caught the young with a partridge net; and let me assure you, Reader, that they are not yellow, as is alleged by some writers, but very dark brown. Even when feathered they retain the same colour until the beginning of August, when they gradually change it for the dress of the adult female.

Like all the rest of the tribe, which, when far north, for the want of hollow trees, breed on the moss or ground, the Hooded Mergansers that remain with us nestle in the same kind of holes or hollows as the Wood Ducks; at least I have found their nests in such situations seven or eight times, although I never saw one of them alight on the branch of a tree, as the birds just mentioned are wont to do. They dive as it were directly into their wooden burrows, where on a few dried weeds and feathers of different kinds, with a small quantity of down from the breast of the female, the eggs are deposited. They are from five to eight, measure one inch and three-fourths by one and three-eighths, and in other respects perfectly resemble those of the Red-breasted Merganser.

The young, like those of the Wood Duck, are conveyed to the water by their mother, who carries them gently in her bill; for the male takes no part in providing for his offspring, but abandons his mate as soon as incubation has commenced. The affectionate mother leads her young among the tall rank grasses which fill the shallow pools or the borders of creeks, and teaches them to procure snails, tadpoles, and insects. The eggs are laid in May, and the young are out some time in June. On two occasions the parents would not abandon the young, although I expected that the noises which I made would have induced them to do so: they both followed their offspring into the net which I had set for them. The young all died in two days, when I restored the old birds to liberty.

The Hooded Merganser, as well as all the other species with which I am acquainted, moves with ease on the ground, nay even runs with speed. Those which leave the United States, take their departure from the first of March to the middle of May; and I am induced to believe that probably one-third of them tarry for the purpose of breeding on the margins of several of our great lakes. When migrating, they fly at a great height, in small loose flocks, without any regard to order. Their notes consist of a kind of rough grunt, variously modulated, but by no means musical, and resembling the syllables croo, croo, crooh. The female repeats it six or seven times in succession, when she sees her young in danger. The same noise is made by the male, either when courting on the water, or as he passes on wing near the hole where the female is laying one of her eggs.

The males do not acquire the full beauty of their plumage until the third spring, but resemble the females for the first year. In the course of the second, the crest becomes more developed, and the white and black markings about the head and body are more distinct. The third spring they are complete, such as you see the bird represented in the plate.

MERGUS CUCULLATUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 207.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 830.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 397.

HOODED MERGANSER, MERGUS CUCULLATUS, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 463.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 465.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXII. Fig. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, straight, somewhat cylindrical, deeper than broad at the base. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline sloping gently to the middle, then straight, along the unguis curved, the ridge broad at the base, then convex, the sides sloping at the base, convex towards the end, the edges serrated beneath, with twenty-five tooth-like lamellæ directed backwards, the unguis oblong, much curved, rounded at the end. Nasal groove oblong, subbasal, filled by a soft membrane; nostrils linear-elliptical, submedial, direct, pervious. Lower mandible, with the angle very narrow and extended to the roundish unguis, the sides rounded, with a long narrow groove, the edges with about twenty-five lamellæ.

Head of moderate size, compressed, oblong. Neck rather short, body full and depressed. Wings small. Feet placed far behind, extremely short; tibia bare for a short space above the joint; tarsus extremely short, compressed, anteriorly covered with scutella, and another row on the lower half externally, the sides reticulate. Hind toe very small, with an inferior free membrane; anterior toes double the length of the tarsus; second shorter than fourth, which is nearly as long as the third, all connected by reticulated webs, of which the outer is deeply cut; the outer toe slightly margined, the inner with a broad marginal membrane. Claws short, considerably curved, compressed, acute, that of the middle toe with a thin inner edge.

Plumage on the upper parts strong and imbricated, on the lower blended and glossed; on the head and neck soft and blended, the feathers of the upper part of the head elongated and capable of being erected into a long compressed rounded crest, those of the shoulders very broad and elongated. Wings very short, small, curved, and pointed; primaries narrow, tapering, the first scarcely shorter than second, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries short, narrow, rounded, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail short, graduated, of sixteen rounded feathers.

Bill black. Iris yellow. Feet yellowish-brown; claws dusky. Upper part of the head, back, smaller wing-coverts, quills and tail, brownish-black; sides of the head, upper half of neck all round, the broad extremities of the large feathers on the shoulders, the scapulars, inner secondaries, and larger wing-coverts, greenish-black. A broad patch of white behind the eye, very conspicuous in the erected crest. Lower part of neck and breast also white, as are the speculum and the central part of the inner secondaries. Sides beautifully marked with undulated transverse lines of yellowish-brown and brownish-black; lower tail-coverts whitish, similarly undulated.

Length to end of tail 19 inches, to end of wings 16-3/4, to end of claws 18; extent of wings 26; wing from flexure 7-1/2; tail 4; bill along the ridge 1-11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-3/4; tarsus 1-1/4, middle toe 1-(9-1/2)/12, its claw 1/4. Weight 1 lb. 7 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXII. Fig. 2.

The female is much smaller than the male. The crest is smaller and of a looser texture; the feathers of the shoulders not so large; those of the sides shorter and more compact. The bill is brownish-black towards the end and along the ridge, orange towards the base. The upper part of the head, including the crest, yellowish-brown; chin whitish, upper part of neck and sides of the head greyish-brown. The general colour of the back, upper surface of wings, tail, and sides, is blackish-brown, the feathers edged with paler, the edgings of the fore part of the back and shoulders larger and pale greyish-brown; speculum greyish-white; breast and abdomen pale yellowish-brown.

Length to end of tail 17-1/2 inches, to end of claws 16-1/2; extent of wings 24. Weight 1 lb.

The Young resemble the female. The young males after their first moult still resemble the female, but have the speculum and lower parts pure white.

THE SORA RAIL.

RALLUS CAROLINUS, LINN.

PLATE CCXXXIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

Not many years have elapsed since it was supposed by some of the inhabitants of those districts to which thousands of this species of Rail resort at particular periods, that the Soras buried themselves in the mud at the approach of cold weather, for the purpose of there spending the winter in a state of torpidity. Many wonderful tales were circulated to convince the world of the truth of this alleged phenomenon; but the fact was, as you will naturally anticipate, that the birds merely shifted their quarters, as no doubt they will continue to do, so long as the climate becomes too cold for them in winter. Prior to the days of WILSON, very little indeed had been published respecting the habits of our birds. Superstitious notions and absurd fancies occupied the place of accurate knowledge in the minds of people too earnestly engaged in more important pursuits, to attend to the history of the animals around them; and with respect to the Sora in particular, I have no doubt that the settlers in our original forests cared very little about them, farther than that, when well cooked, they afforded a very savoury dish. Now, however, the case is very different. Many of the enterprising and industrious sons of Columbia have attained affluence and ease, and their children receive a liberal education. The sciences and arts, those attendants on peaceful commerce, are now sources of pleasure to many of our citizens, and at the present day there are not a few individuals among us, devotedly engaged in the pursuit of zoology in all its branches. So rapid has been the progress of ornithology in particular, that I should hesitate before asserting that any American, however uncultured, now believes that Rails burrow in the mud.

Those who have studied the habits of our birds, or of those of any part of the world, no longer admit that Swallows are condemned to search for warmth under the ice; for we have proofs that these birds can with ease obtain all that is necessary for their comfortable subsistence, by removing on wing to a warmer region. The Soras and many other species of birds are similar in this respect to the Swallows. The Vulture that was supposed to scent his food from afar, has well nigh lost his olfactory powers. Geese are no longer the offspring of sea-shells; nor do Swans now chaunt their own requiem. The Pelican, too, has ceased to tear its own breast to gorge its voracious young. Students of nature have gradually rectified the various errors into which our ancestors had fallen; and we should now just as readily expect to see a shoal of fishes issuing from beneath the plough, as to see a flock of Rails emerge from the mud, shake themselves, and fly off. This subject, then, being disposed of, I have now to relate to you the result of my observations on the habits of the Sora.

This bird, which I think might have been named the Pennsylvanian or Virginian Rail, enters the Union from the shores of Mexico, early in March, when many are to be seen in the markets of New Orleans. Some reach their northern destination by ascending along the margins of our western streams, or by crossing the country directly, in the manner of the Woodcock; while those which proceed along the coast shorten their journey as much as possible by flying across the headlands of the numerous inlets or bays of our southern districts, retiring or advancing more slowly according to the state of the weather. Thus, those which cross the peninsula of Florida, through the marshes and lagoons that lead to the head waters of the St John’s River, instead of travelling round the shores of Georgia and South Carolina, fly directly across towards Cape Lookout. It it nevertheless true, that a certain number of these birds follow the sinuosities of the shores, for I found some in the markets of Charleston, in the month of April, that had been killed in the immediate neighbourhood of that city, and I obtained others in various parts; but the number of these is very small compared with that of those which cross at once. When their passage takes place, either during calm weather or with a favourable wind, the fortunate travellers pursue their journey by entering Pimlico Sound, and following the inner margins of the outward banks of this part of the coast until they reach Cape Henry. From thence some ascend the Chesapeake, while others make for the mouth of the Delaware, and these perhaps again meet on the borders of Lake Ontario, or the waters of the St Lawrence, after which they soon enter those portions of the country in which they breed, and spend a short but agreeable season.

Every person acquainted with the general movements of birds either during spring, when they pass northwards, or the autumnal months, when they are on their way to milder climes, is aware that, at the former period, their anxiety to reach the place of breeding is much greater than that which they feel at any other period. Thus, in its movement southward, the Sora, like all other Rails, when returning with its progeny, which are yet feeble and unable to undergo much fatigue, proceeds considerably slower than in spring. Hence its appearance in autumn, in multitudes, in various places, where it is enticed by an abundance of food and comparative security, to tarry for some time, and recruit its strength. Thus, in September and part of October, the Sora is found in great numbers on the borders of our great lakes, feeding on wild oats, and on the reedy margins of the rivers of our Middle Districts. Several natural causes prevent birds of this species from following the sea-coast of the United States, while migrating either in spring or in autumn, the principal of which is the absence there of their favourite Zizania marshes, which are but very rarely met with to the east of the State of New York. This is probably the cause of the great rarity of this species in Massachusetts, whilst, so far as I know, none are ever found to the eastward of that State. These observations are corroborated by those of my friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH of Pictou, who never met with one of these birds during many years’ residence in that part of Nova Scotia.

Having seen flocks of Soras winging their way close over the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, and between Cape Florida and the main shores of the Carolinas, in the month of April, when they were moving directly towards Cape Lookout, I have very little doubt that many return in the same track, in the end of October, when the young, well fed and strengthened, are able to follow their parents on wing, even across that large extent of water. I shall now dismiss this part of the subject, by adding, in confirmation of their capability of protracted flight, that some of these birds, when accidentally separated from their flock, have supported themselves on wing until they have met with vessels several hundred miles from land; and facts of this kind have been announced by persons of well known respectability.

During the autumnal months, a goodly number of Soras are found in the rice-fields and fresh-water marshes of the Carolinas. Sometimes also they have been shot in salt-water marshes, in spring, while on their northward migration. At this period they are very silent, until forced to fly. In those States none are seen during summer. Very few, it appears, remain in any part of the Middle Districts. My friend JOHN BACHMAN, however, was shewn some eggs of this bird, that had been found in the meadows below Philadelphia; and whilst I was in the company of my friend EDWARD HARRIS, Esq. on a woodcock shooting expedition, my son shot some young birds scarcely fledged, and shortly afterwards an adult female. JOHN BACHMAN met with a nest on the shore of the Hudson, and I saw two in the marshes of Lake Champlain.

Fond of concealment, as all its tribe are, the Sora is rarely seen during day, although, being seminocturnal, it skulks amid the tall reeds or grasses, both by day and at night, in search of its food. Differing, however, in habit, as well as in form, from the Gallinules, it rarely abandons the retreats which it has chosen after the breeding season, and rises, when forced by tides, to the tops of the plants about it, climbing along or clinging to their stalks or leaves, with as much ease as it walks on the floating garbage, when persons in boats can see them without any difficulty. Whenever these occurrences take place, and the country around is thickly peopled, great havock is made among them. This particularly happens on the James and Delaware rivers, where thousands are annually destroyed during their autumnal stay. The sport of shooting Soras is much akin to that of shooting Clapper Rails, or Salt-Water-Marsh-Hens, which I have already described. But Wilson having given an account of it, as pursued when Soras were much more abundant than I ever saw them, I shall transcribe his description of the manner adopted by the sportsmen on the Delaware.

“The usual method of shooting them, in this quarter of the country, is as follows:—The sportsman furnishes himself with a light batteau, and a stout experienced boatman, with a pole of twelve or fifteen feet long, thickened at the lower end to prevent it from sinking too deep into the mud. About two hours or so before high water, they enter the reeds, and each takes his post, the sportsman standing in the bow ready for action, the boatman, on the stern seat, pushing her steadily through the reeds. The Rail generally spring singly, as the boat advances, and at a short distance ahead, are instantly shot down, while the boatman, keeping his eye on the spot where the bird fell, directs the boat forward, and picks it up as the gunner is loading. It is also the boatman’s business to keep a sharp look-out, and give the word ‘mark!’ when a Rail springs on either side without being observed by the sportsman, and to note the exact spot where it falls until he has picked it up; for this once lost sight of, owing to the sameness in the appearance of the reeds, is seldom found again. In this manner the boat moves steadily through and over the reeds, the birds flushing and falling, the gunner loading and firing, while the boatman is pushing and picking up. The sport continues till an hour or two after high water, when the shallowness of the water, and the strength and weight of the floating reeds, as also the backwardness of the game to spring as the tide decreases, oblige them to return. Several boats are sometimes within a short distance of each other, and a perpetual cracking of musketry prevails along the whole reedy shores of the river. In these excursions it is not uncommon for an active and expert marksman to kill ten or twelve dozen in a tide. They are usually shot singly, though I have known five killed at one discharge of a double-barrelled piece. These instances, however, are rare.”

“Such is the mode of Rail shooting in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia. In Virginia, particularly along the shores of James River, within the tide water, where the Rail or Sora are in prodigious numbers, they are also shot on the wing, but more usually taken at night in the following manner:—A kind of iron grate is fixed on the top of a stout pole, which is placed like a mast, in a light canoe, and filled with fire. The darker the night the more successful is the sport. The person who manages the canoe is provided with a light paddle, ten or twelve feet in length, and, about an hour before high water, proceeds through among the reeds, which lie broken and floating on the surface. The whole space, for a considerable way round the canoe, is completely enlightened, the birds stare with astonishment, and, as they appear, are knocked on the head with the paddle, and thrown into the canoe. In this manner, from twenty to eighty dozen have been killed by three Negroes in the short space of three hours!”

The flight of this little bird while migrating is low, and performed with a constant beating of the wings, as in the Coot and other birds of its kind. They pass swiftly along in compact flocks of from five to a hundred or more individuals. At times you see them rise in a long curve, as if they had perceived some dangerous object beneath them; then resume their ordinary direct flight, and are soon out of sight. On the contrary, when they are with us in autumn, they seem far from being alert on wing, flying slowly with dangling legs, and proceeding only to a short distance, when they drop among the reeds with their wings extended, as if they had been shot. If raised two or three times, it is extremely difficult to see them again; for on such occasions they will rather dive and hide under some floating weeds, keeping their bill only above the water. When walking leisurely, they throw up the tail, in the manner of Gallinules, and if they apprehend danger in consequence of any suspicious sight or sound, they run off with great speed. Their notes are shrill and short, but reiterated, like those of Rallus crepitans, although by no means so loud and disagreeable. When wounded they dive well at the approach of the sportsman, and sometimes cling to the roots of the grasses for a few moments, but more usually rise under the cover of the floating leaves. Some persons still believe that these birds cannot be drowned; and this notion tempted my friend JOHN BACHMAN to make the experiment. In a note of his now before me, he says:—“I once, in company with some naturalists of Philadelphia, tried two experiments upon two Soras that had been slightly wounded in the wing, to ascertain how long they could live under the water. They were placed in a covered basket, which was sunk in the river. One remained fifteen, the other eight minutes, under water; and on being taken out, they were both found dead. We placed them in the sun for several days, but, I need hardly say, they did not revive.”

The most curious habit or instinct of this species is the nicety of sense by which they can ascertain the last moment they can remain at any of the feeding grounds at which they tarry in autumn. One day, you may see or hear the Soras in their favourite marshes, you may be aware of their presence in the dusk of evening; but when you return to the place early next morning, they are all gone. Yesterday the weather was mild, to-day it is cold and raw; and no doubt the Soras were aware that a change was at hand, and secured themselves from its influence by a prompt movement under night. It is probable that these sudden removals gave rise to the idea of their diving into the mud.

RALLUS CAROLINUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 263.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 334.

GALLINULA CAROLINA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 771.

RAIL, RALLUS CAROLINUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 24. pl. 48. fig. 2. Male.

CAROLINA RAIL, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 208.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXIII. Fig. 1.

Bill shorter than the head, rather stout, deep, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight, being slightly convex towards the end, the ridge flattish for a very short space at the base, very slightly extended on the forehead, narrow in the rest of its extent; the sides convex towards the end, the edges sharp, inflected, with a slight sinus close to the tip. Nasal groove broad and extending to two-thirds of the length of the bill; nostrils linear, lateral, submedial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, the sides erect, the dorsal line sloping upwards, the edges inflected, the tip narrowed, the gape-line straight.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate length. Body rather slender, much compressed. Feet of moderate length, rather stout; tibia bare a short way above the joint; tarsus of ordinary length, compressed, anteriorly covered with broad scutella, posteriorly with smaller, and on the sides reticulated. Hind toe very short and slender, middle toe longest and longer than the tarsus, fourth considerably shorter than third, and a little longer than second; toes free, scutellate above, much compressed, with an inferior sharp margin. Claws rather long, exceedingly compressed, slightly arched, tapering to a fine point, flat and marginate beneath.

Plumage rather stiff, but blended, slightly glossed above. Feathers of the forehead with the shaft enlarged and slightly extended beyond the tip. Wings short and broad; alula large; primaries curved, broad tapering, but rounded, second longest, third scarcely shorter, first equal to sixth; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail extremely short, much rounded, of twelve feeble rounded feathers; the upper and lower tail-coverts nearly as long as the tail-feathers.

Bill yellow at the base, dusky towards the end. Iris bright chestnut. Feet yellowish-green; claws light brown. A broad band surrounding the base of the bill, the central part of the crown, the chin, and the fore neck in its whole length, brownish-black. Ear-coverts olive-brown; a band over the eye, the cheeks, and the sides of the neck, ash-grey. Sides of the crown, the hind neck, and the rest of the upper parts, olive-brown, the feathers brownish-black in the centre, those on the back with two marginal lines of white. Smaller wing-coverts of a lighter brown; secondary coverts margined with black and white markings; quills dusky olive-brown, as is the tail. Middle of breast and abdomen greyish-white; sides barred with brownish-black and greyish-white, as are the lateral feathers of the rump, those of the abdomen reddish-yellow.

Length to end of tail 9-5/12 inches; to end of wings 8-3/4, to end of claws 12; extent of wings 14; wing from flexure 4-8/12; tail 2; bill along the ridge 10/12, along the edge of the lower mandible 10/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 1-7/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 7 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXIII. Fig. 2.

The Female differs considerably from the Male in colouring. The naked parts and iris are similar, as are the upper parts generally; but the black around the base of the bill, on the head, and fore neck is wanting, the fore part of the head being light brown, the chin whitish, the sides of the neck light greyish-brown. The white lines of the back are duller, and the dark bands of the sides of a lighter tint.

Young Male. Plate CCXXXIII. Fig. 3.

The Young Male, after its first moult, is intermediate in colouring between the adult male and the female, but more like the latter, the black on the head and fore neck appearing in spots, and the sides of the neck being nearly as in the female.

THE RING-NECKED DUCK.

FULIGULA RUFITORQUES, BONAP.

PLATE CCXXXIV. MALE AND FEMALE.

The Ring-necked Duck is abundant on all our western waters during autumn and winter. It is also met with along our Atlantic coasts; but there, although I have seen many individuals on the Chesapeake and other large arms of the sea, it is by no means so plentiful as in the interior. Its flesh is excellent, equalling in my opinion that of any other duck; and when it has been feeding along the margins of rivers, creeks, or ponds for a few weeks, it becomes very fat, tender, and juicy, and has none of the fishy flavour of those species which are in the habit of diving deep for their food. In shape, the Tufted Duck, or Ring-bill, as it is called in Kentucky, resembles the Scaup or Flocking Fowl, but is plumper and more rounded.

This bird arrives in Kentucky and the neighbouring States, as far down the Mississippi as New Orleans, from the 20th of September to the middle of October, at which latter period it may be found in the whole extent of the Union, from Massachusetts to Louisiana, being more numerous in some districts than in others, according to the suitableness of the place. They commonly move while on wing in flocks of from fifteen to twenty individuals, keeping rather scattered, and thus rarely affording what is called a good shot. They fly with rapidity, keeping at a considerable height, and the motion of their wings produces a constant whistling as they pass over head. Before alighting, they wheel and perform various evolutions, although they do not occupy so much time with them as Teals are wont to do.

They swim rather lightly and with ease, and, unlike the Scaups, experience no difficulty in rising on wing, whether from the land or from the water, but generally spring up at once, especially if alarmed. They have an almost constant practice of raising the head in a curved manner, partially erecting the occipital feathers, and emitting a note resembling the sound produced by a person blowing through a tube. At the approach of spring the males are observed repeating this action every now and then, while near the females, none of which seem to pay the least attention to their civilities.

Whilst in ponds, they feed by diving and dabbling with their bills in the mud amongst the roots of grasses, of which they eat the seeds also, as well as snails and all kinds of aquatic insects. When on rivers, their usual food consists of small fish and crays, the latter of which they procure at the bottom. A male which I shot near Louisville, in the beginning of May, exhibited a protuberance of the neck so very remarkable as to induce me to cut the skin, when I found a frog, the body of which was nearly two inches long, and which had almost choked the bird, as it allowed me to go up within a dozen or fifteen paces before I took aim. This species remains with us in the Western country later than most others of its tribe, and not unfrequently as late as the Blue-winged Teal.

We are indebted for the discovery of this species to my friend the Prince of Musignano, who first pointed out the difference between it and the Tufted Duck of Europe. The distinctions that exist in the two species he ascertained about the time of my first acquaintance with him at Philadelphia in 1824, when he was much pleased on seeing my drawing of a male and a female, which I had made at Louisville in Kentucky previous to WILSON’s visit to me there. WILSON supposed it identical with the European species.

The summer haunts and habits of this Duck have not been ascertained; for although Dr RICHARDSON mentions that he found it not rare in the fur countries, he says nothing of its eggs or nest. While with us it has no long crest, but I am inclined to think that at the commencement of the breeding season that appendage may be developed.

FULIGULA RUFITORQUES, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 393.

TUFTED DUCK, ANAS FULIGULA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p. 60. pl. 67, fig. 5.

RING-NECKED DUCK, FULIGULA RUFITORQUES, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 453.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 439.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXIV. Fig. 1.

Bill about the same length as the head, rather deeper than broad at the base, depressed and enlarged towards the end, the frontal angles acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first sloping, then concave, along the unguis decurved, the ridge broad and flat at the base, then broadly convex, the sides nearly flat and perpendicular at the base, convex and sloping towards the end, the edges soft, with about forty-five internal lamellæ, unguis obovate, curved. Nostrils subbasal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flat, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the dorsal line very short, slightly convex, the edges with about sixty-five lamellæ and smaller intermediate ones above.

Head of moderate size, neck rather long and slender, body full and depressed, wings rather small. Feet very short, strong, placed rather far behind; tarsus very short, compressed, at its lower part anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes scutellate above, first very small, free, with a broad membrane beneath, fourth longest, third scarcely shorter; claws small, curved, compressed, obtuse, the hind one smaller, more curved and acute, that of the third toe with an inner sharp edge.

Plumage dense, soft, blended, rather glossy. Feathers of the middle of the head, and upper part of hind neck, very narrow and a little elongated; of the rest of the head and upper part of the neck very short, of the back and lower parts in general broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, narrow, acute; primaries curved, strong, tapering, first longest, second very little shorter; secondaries broad, rounded, short, the inner longer and tapering. Tail very short, rather broad, much rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers.

Bill black, with a basal band, the edges of both mandibles, and a band across the upper towards the end, pale blue. Iris yellow. Legs greyish-blue, the webs brownish-black. The head, and upper part of the neck, greenish-black, with purple reflexions. A brownish-red collar, broader before, on the middle of the neck. Its lower part all round, as well as the back, scapulars, smaller wing-coverts, and posterior part of abdomen, brownish-black. Inner secondaries of the same colour, outer bluish-grey on the outer web, light brown on the inner, as are the primaries, of which the outer webs and tips are dark brown. Tail brownish-grey. Chin white, breast greyish-white, sides and fore part of abdomen greyish-white, minutely undulated with greyish-brown.

Length to end of tail 18 inches, to end of wings 16; extent of wings 28; wing from flexure 7-3/4; tail 2-1/2; bill along the back 2-1/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-11/12; tarsus 1-4/12; middle toe 2-2/12, its claw 4/12.

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXIV. Fig. 2.

The Female has the neck umber brown, the upper part of the head darker, the back blackish-brown, the speculum bluish-grey, as in the male, the breast brownish-white, the loral spaces and chin pale brown, the abdomen umber brown.

Length 16 inches.

The Tufted Duck of Europe, Fuligula cristata, is very intimately allied to this species. The bill of the latter is longer, narrower, and differently coloured, the unguis broader at the end, as is the flat triangular space at the base of the upper mandible. The bill of the Scaup Duck is still broader towards the end, with a much narrower unguis, and the flattened part of the upper mandible still narrower than in the Tufted Duck; the colour of the speculum is also different, being bluish-grey in the Ring-necked Duck, and white in the two allied species. The females of the Ring-necked and Scaup Ducks, which are nearly similar in colour, differ in the speculum, and in the peculiar form of the bill.

THE SOOTY TERN.

STERNA FULIGINOSA, LATH.

PLATE CCXXXV. MALE.

Early in the afternoon of the 9th of May 1832, I was standing on the deck of the United States’ revenue-cutter the Marion. The weather was very beautiful, although hot, and a favourable breeze wafted us onwards in our course. Captain ROBERT DAY, who stood near me, on looking toward the south-west, ordered some person to be sent to the top to watch the appearance of land. A young lad was instantly seen ascending the rigging, and not many minutes after he had attained his post, we heard from him the cry of “land.” It was the low keys of the Tortugas, toward which we had been steering. No change was made in the course of the “Lady of the Green Mantle,” who glided along as if aware of the knowledge possessed by her commander. Now the light-house lantern appeared, like a bright gem glittering in the rays of the sun. Presently the masts and flags of several wreckers shewed us that they were anchored in the small but safe harbour. We sailed on, and our active pilot, who was also the first lieutenant of the Marion, pointed out to me a small island which he said was at this season the resort of thousands of birds, which he described by calling them “Black and White Sea Swallows,” and again another islet, equally well stocked with another kind of Sea Swallow, which he added were called Noddies, because they frequently alighted on the yards of vessels at night, and slept there. He assured me that both species were on their respective breeding-grounds by millions, that the eggs of the first lay on the sand under bushes, at intervals of about a foot, while the nests of the last were placed as thickly on the bushes of their own chosen island. “Before we cast anchor,” he added, “you will see them rise in swarms like those of bees when disturbed in their hive, and their cries will deafen you.”

You may easily imagine how anxious I was to realize the picture; I expressed a wish to be landed on the island; but the kind officer replied, “My good Sir, you will soon be tired of their incessant noise and numbers, and will enjoy the procuring of Boobies much better.” After various tacks, we made our way through the curious and extremely dangerous channels leading to the small harbour, where we anchored. As the chain grated the ear, I saw a cloud-like mass arise over the “Bird Key,” from which we were only a few hundred yards distant; and in a few minutes the yawl was carrying myself and my assistant ashore. On landing, I felt for a moment as if the birds would raise me from the ground, so thick were they all round, and so quick the motion of their wings. Their cries were indeed deafening, yet not more than half of them took to wing on our arrival, those which rose being chiefly male birds, as we afterwards ascertained. We ran across the naked beach, and as we entered the thick cover before us, and spread in different directions, we might at every step have caught a sitting bird, or one scrambling through the bushes to escape from us. Some of the sailors, who had more than once been there before, had provided themselves with sticks, with which they knocked down the birds as they flew thick around and over them. In less than half an hour, more than a hundred Terns lay dead in a heap, and a number of baskets were filled to the brim with eggs. We then returned on board, and declined disturbing the rest any more that night. My assistant, Mr H. WARD, of London, skinned upwards of fifty specimens, aided by Captain DAY’s servant. The sailors told me that the birds were excellent eating, but on this point I cannot say much in corroboration of their opinion, although I can safely recommend the eggs, for I considered them delicious, in whatever way cooked, and during our stay at the Tortugas we never passed a day without providing ourselves with a good quantity of them.

The next morning Mr WARD told me that great numbers of the Terns left their island at two o’clock, flew off towards the sea, and returned a little before day, or about four o’clock. This I afterwards observed to be regularly the case, unless there happened to blow a gale, a proof that this species sees as well during the night as by day, when they also go to sea in search of food for themselves and their young. In this respect they differ from the Sterna stolida, which, when overtaken at sea by darkness, even when land is only a few miles distant, alight on the water, and frequently on the yards of vessels, where if undisturbed they sleep until the return of day. It is from this circumstance that they have obtained the name of Noddy, to which in fact they are much better entitled than the present species, which has also been so named, but of which I never observed any to alight on a vessel in which I was for thirty-five days in the Gulf of Mexico, at a time when that bird was as abundant during the day as the other species, of which many were caught at my desire by the sailors.

The present species rarely alights on the water, where it seems incommoded by its long tail; but the other, the Sterna stolida, which, in the shape of its tail, and in some of its habits, shews an affinity to the Petrels, not only frequently alights on the sea, but swims about on floating patches of the Gulf Weed, seizing on the small fry and little crabs that are found among the branches of that plant, or immediately beneath them.

I have often thought, since I became acquainted with the habits of the bird which here occupies our attention, that it differs materially from all the other species of the same genus that occur on our coasts. The Sterna fuliginosa never dives headlong and perpendicularly as the smaller species are wont to do, such as St. Hirundo, St. arctica, St. minuta, St. Dougallii, or St. nigra, but passes over its prey in a curved line, and picks it up. Its action I cannot better compare to that of any other bird than the Night Hawk, while plunging over its female. I have often observed this Tern follow and hover in the wake of a porpoise, while the latter was pursuing its prey, and at the instant when by a sudden dash it frightens and drives toward the surface the fry around it, the Tern as suddenly passes over the spot, and picks up a small fish or two.

Nor is the flight of this Tern characterized by the buoyancy and undecidedness, if I may so speak, of the other species mentioned above, it being as firm and steady as that of the Cayenne Tern, excepting during the movements performed in procuring its food. Like some of the smaller gulls, this bird not unfrequently hovers close to the water to pick up floating objects, such as small bits of fat pork and greasy substances thrown overboard purposely for making the experiment. It is not improbable that the habits peculiar to this species, the Noddy, and one or two others, of which I shall have occasion to speak elsewhere, may tend to induce systematic writers to place them in a new “subgenus.”

There is a circumstance connected with the habits of the two species of which I now more particularly speak, which, although perhaps somewhat out of place, I cannot refrain from introducing here. It is that the Sterna stolida always forms a nest on trees or bushes, on which that bird alights with as much ease as a Crow or Thrush; whereas the Sterna fuliginosa never forms a nest of any sort, but deposits its eggs in a slight cavity which it scoops in the sand under the trees. But, reader, let us return to the Bird Key.

Early the next morning I was put on shore, and remained there until I had completed my observations on the Terns. I paid no attention to their lamentable cries, which were the less piercing that on this occasion I did not molest them in the least. Having seated myself on the shelly sand, which here formed the only soil, I remained almost motionless for several hours, in consequence of which the birds alighted about me, at the distance of only a few yards, so that I could plainly see with what efforts and pains the younger females deposited their eggs. Their bill was open, and their pantings indicated their distress, but after the egg had been expelled, they immediately walked off in an awkward manner, until they reached a place where they could arise without striking the branches of the bushes near them, when they flew away. Here and there, in numerous places within twenty yards of me, females, having their complement of eggs, alighted, and quietly commenced the labour of incubation. Now and then a male bird also settled close by, and immediately disgorged a small fish within the reach of the female. After some curious reciprocal nods of their heads, which were doubtless intended as marks of affection, the caterer would fly off. Several individuals, which had not commenced laying their eggs, I saw scratch the sand with their feet, in the manner of the common fowl, while searching for food. In the course of this operation, they frequently seated themselves in the shallow basin to try how it fitted their form, or find out what was still wanted to ensure their comfort. Not the least semblance of a quarrel did I observe between any two of these interesting creatures; indeed, they all appeared as if happy members of a single family; and as if to gratify my utmost wishes, a few of them went through the process of courtship in my presence. The male birds frequently threw their heads over their back as it were, in the manner of several species of gulls; they also swelled out their throats, walked round the females, and ended by uttering a soft puffing sound as they caressed them. Then the pair for a moment or two walked round each other, and at length rose on wing and soon disappeared. Such is one of the many sights it has been my good fortune to witness, and by each of them have I been deeply impressed with a sense of the pervading power of the Deity.

The Sooty Tern always lays three eggs as its full number, and in no instance, among thousands of the nests which were on the Bird Key, did I find one more when the female was sitting close. I was desirous of ascertaining whether the male and the female incubate alternately; but this I was unable to do, as the birds frequently left their eggs for half an hour or even three quarters at a time, but rarely longer. This circumstance, together with the very slight difference in size and colour between the sexes, was the cause of my failure.

It was curious to observe their actions whenever a large party landed on the island. All those not engaged in incubation would immediately rise in the air and scream aloud; those on the ground would then join them as quickly as they could, and the whole forming a vast mass, with a broad extended front, would as it were charge us, pass over for fifty yards or so, then suddenly wheel round, and again renew their attack. This they would repeat six or eight times in succession. When the sailors, at our desire, all shouted as loud as they could, the phalanx would for an instant become perfectly silent, as if to gather our meaning; but the next moment, like a huge wave breaking on the beach, it would rush forward with deafening noise.

When wounded and seized by the hand, this bird bites severely, and utters a plaintive cry differing from its usual note, which is loud and shrill, resembling the syllables oo-ee, oo-ee. Their nests are all scooped near the roots or stems of the bushes, and under the shade of their boughs, in many places within a few inches of each other. There is less difference between their eggs, than is commonly seen in those of water birds, both with respect to size and colouring. They generally measure two inches and one-eighth, by one and a-half, have a smooth shell, with the ground of a pale cream colour, sparingly marked with various tints of lightish umber, and still lighter marks of purple, which appear as if within the shell. The Lieutenant, N. LACOSTE, Esq. informed me that shortly after the young are hatched, they ramble pell-mell over the island, to meet their parents, and be fed by them; that these birds have been known to collect there for the purpose of breeding, since the oldest wreckers on that coast can recollect; and that they usually arrive in May, and remain until the beginning of August, when they retire southward to spend the winter months. I could not however obtain a sufficiently accurate description of the different states of plumage which they go through, so as to enable me to describe them in the manner I should wish to do. All that I can say is, that before they take their departure, the young are greyish-brown above, dull white beneath, and have the tail very short.

At Bird Key we found a party of Spanish Eggers from Havannah. They had already laid in a cargo of about eight tons of the eggs of this Tern and the Noddy. On asking them how many they supposed they had, they answered that they never counted them, even while selling them, but disposed of them at seventy-five cents per gallon; and that one turn to market sometimes produced upwards of two hundred dollars, while it took only a-week to sail backwards and forwards and collect their cargo. Some eggers, who now and then come from Key West, sell their eggs at twelve and a half cents the dozen; but wherever these eggs are carried, they must soon be disposed of and eaten, for they become putrid in a few weeks.

On referring to my journals once more, I find the following remarks with reference to the Sooty Tern. It would appear that at some period not very remote, the Noddy, Sterna stolida, must have had it in contemplation to appropriate to itself its neighbour’s domains; as on examination of this island, several thousand nests of that bird were found built on the tops of the bushes, although no birds of the species were about them. It is therefore probable that if such an attempt was made by them, they were defeated and forced to confine themselves to the neighbouring island, where they breed by themselves, although it is only a few miles distant. That such interferences and conflicts now and then occur among different species of birds, has often been observed by other persons, and in several instances by myself, particularly among Herons. In these cases, right or wrong, the stronger party never fails to dislodge the weaker, and keep possession of the disputed ground.

STERNA FULIGINOSA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 804.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 355.

SOOTY TERN, STERNA FULIGINOSA, Lath. Synops. vol. vi. p. 352.—Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p. 145. pl. 72. fig. 7.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 284.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXV.

Bill longer than the head, strong, slender, nearly straight, compressed, very acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge broad and convex at the base, narrowed towards the end, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nasal groove extended to beyond half the length of the bill, slightly inflected towards the edge; nostrils basal, linear, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle very narrow, acute, extending to a little beyond the middle, the dorsal line straight, the sides convex, the sharp edges inflected, the tip very acute.

Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed; neck of moderate length; body slender; feet very small, wings and tail very long. Tibia bare for a short space; tarsus very short, slender, roundish, covered anteriorly with small scutella, laterally and behind with reticulated rather indistinct scales; toes small, slender, the first very small, the third longest, the fourth nearly as long, the second much shorter, all scutellate above, the anterior united by reticulated webs, having an incurved margin; claws curved, compressed, acute, that of hind toe smallest, of middle toe by much the largest, and having the inner edge thin and dilated.

Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the head; the feathers in general broad and rounded. Wings very long, narrow and pointed; primary quills tapering but rounded, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary short, broad, rather acute, the inner more tapering. Tail long, very deeply forked, of twelve feathers, of which the outer are tapering, the middle rounded and short.

Bill and feet black. Iris chestnut. Forehead white; lores, upper part of the head, the hind neck and all the upper parts, deep black glossed with blue, excepting the edges of the wings and the lateral tail-feathers, which are white, the latter with the inner web towards the end dusky. All the lower parts and the sides of the neck are pure white.

Length to end of tail 16-1/4 inches, to end of wings 15-5/8, to end of claws 11-1/2; extent of wings 34-3/4; wing from flexure 12; tail to the end 7-3/4, to the fork 3-3/4; bill along the ridge 1-3/4, along the edge of lower mandible 2-5/12; tarsus 10/12; middle toe (9-1/2)/12, its claw 4/12.

The Female is similar to the Male.

A WILD HORSE.

While residing at Henderson in Kentucky, I became acquainted with a gentleman who had just returned from the country in the neighbourhood of the head waters of the Arkansas River, where he had purchased a newly caught “Wild Horse,” a descendant of some of the horses originally brought from Spain, and set at liberty in the vast prairies of the Mexican lands. The animal was by no means handsome:—he had a large head, with a considerable prominence in its frontal region, his thick and unkemt mane hung along his neck to the breast, and his tail, too scanty to be called flowing, almost reached the ground. But his chest was broad, his legs clean and sinewy, and his eyes and nostrils indicated spirit, vigour, and endurance. He had never been shod, and although he had been ridden hard, and had performed a long journey, his black hoofs had suffered no damage. His colour inclined to bay, the legs of a deeper tint, and gradually darkening below until they became nearly black. I inquired what might be the value of such an animal among the Osage Indians, and was answered, that the horse being only four years old, he had given for him, with the tree and the buffalo tug fastened to his head, articles equivalent to about thirty-five dollars. The gentleman added, that he had never mounted a better horse, and had very little doubt, that if well fed, he could carry a man of ordinary weight from thirty-five to forty miles a-day, for a month, as he had travelled at that rate upon him, without giving him any other food than the grass of the prairies, or the canes of the bottom lands, until he had crossed the Mississippi at Natchez, when he fed him with corn. Having no farther use for him, now that he had ended his journey, he said he was anxious to sell him, and thought he might prove a good hunting horse for me, as his gaits were easy, and he stood fire as well as any charger he had seen. Having some need of a horse possessed of qualities similar to those represented as belonging to the one in question, I asked if I might be allowed to try him. “Try him, Sir, and welcome; nay, if you will agree to feed him and take care of him, you may keep him for a month, if you choose.” So I had the horse taken to the stable and fed.

About two hours afterwards, I took my gun, mounted the prairie nag, and went to the woods. I was not long in finding him very sensible to the spur, and as I observed that he moved with great ease both to himself and his rider, I thought of leaping over a log several feet in diameter, to judge how far he might prove serviceable in deer-driving or bear-hunting. So I gave him the reins, and pressed my legs to his belly without using the spur, on which, as if aware that I wished to try his mettle, he bounded off and cleared the log as lightly as an elk. I turned him, and made him leap the same log several times, which he did with equal ease, so that I was satisfied of his ability to clear any impediment in the woods. I next determined to try his strength, for which purpose I took him to a swamp, which I knew was muddy and tough. He entered it with his nose close to the water, as if to judge of its depth, at which I was well pleased, as he thus evinced due caution. I then rode through the swamp in different directions, and found him prompt, decided, and unflinching. Can he swim well? thought I;—for there are horses, which, although excellent, cannot swim at all, but will now and then lie on their side, as if contented to float with the current, when the rider must either swim and drag them to the shore, or abandon them. To the Ohio then I went, and rode into the water. He made off obliquely against the current, his head well raised above the surface, his nostrils expanded, his breathing free, and without any of the grunting noise emitted by many horses on such occasions. I turned him down the stream, then directly against it, and finding him quite to my mind, I returned to the shore, on reaching which he stopped of his own accord, spread his legs, and almost shook me off my seat. After this I put him to a gallop, and returning home through the woods, shot from the saddle a turkey-cock, which he afterwards approached as if he had been trained to the sport, and enabled me to take it up without dismounting.

As soon as I reached the house of Dr RANKIN, where I then resided, I sent word to the owner of the horse that I should be glad to see him. When he came, I asked him what price he would take; he said, fifty dollars in silver was the lowest. So I paid the money, took a bill of sale, and became master of the horse. The Doctor, who was an excellent judge, said smiling to me, “Mr AUDUBON, when you are tired of him, I will refund you the fifty dollars, for depend upon it he is a capital horse.” The mane was trimmed, but the tail left untouched; the Doctor had him shod “all round,” and for several weeks he was ridden by my wife, who was highly pleased with him.

Business requiring that I should go to Philadelphia, Barro (he was so named after his former owner) was put up for ten days and well attended to. The time of my departure having arrived, I mounted him; and set off at the rate of four miles an hour;—but here I must give you the line of my journey, that you may, if you please, follow my course on some such map as that of TANNER’s. From Henderson through Russellville, Nashville, and Knoxville, Abington in Virginia, the Natural Bridge, Harrisonburgh, Winchester and Harper’s Ferry, Frederick and Lancaster to Philadelphia. There I remained four days, after which I returned by way of Pittsburgh, Wheeling, Zanesville, Chillicothe, Lexington, and Louisville to Henderson. But the nature of my business was such as to make me deviate considerably from the main roads, and I computed the whole distance at nearly two thousand miles, the post roads being rather more than sixteen hundred. I travelled not less than forty miles a-day, and it was allowed by the Doctor that my horse was in as good condition on my return as when I set out. Such a journey on a single horse may seem somewhat marvellous in the eyes of a European; but in those days almost every merchant had to perform the like, some from all parts of the western country, even from St Louis on the Missouri, although the travellers not unfrequently, on their return, sold their horses at Baltimore, Philadelphia, or Pittsburgh, at which latter place they took boat. My wife rode on a single horse from Henderson to Philadelphia, travelling at the same rate. The country was then comparatively new; few coaches travelled, and in fact the roads were scarcely fit for carriages. About twenty days were considered necessary for performing a journey on horseback from Louisville to Philadelphia, whereas now the same distance may be travelled in six or seven days, or even sometimes less, this depending on the height of the water in the Ohio.

It may be not uninteresting to you to know the treatment which the horse received on those journeys. I rose every morning before day, cleaned my horse, pressed his back with my hand, to see if it had been galled, and placed on it a small blanket folded double, in such a manner that when the latter was put on, half of the cloth was turned over it. The surcingle, beneath which the saddle-bags were placed, confined the blanket to the seat, and to the pad behind was fastened the great coat or cloak, tightly rolled up. The bridle had a snaffle bit; a breastplate was buckled in front to each skirt, to render the seat secure during an ascent; but my horse required no crupper, his shoulders being high and well-formed. On starting he trotted off at the rate of four miles an hour, which he continued. I usually travelled from fifteen to twenty miles before breakfast, and after the first hour allowed my horse to drink as much as he would. When I halted for breakfast, I generally stopped two hours, cleaned the horse, and gave him as much corn blades as he could eat. I then rode on until within half an hour of sunset, when I watered him well, poured a bucket of cold water over his back, had his skin well rubbed, his feet examined and cleaned. The rack was filled with blades, the trough with corn, a good-sized pumpkin or some hens’ eggs, whenever they could be procured, were thrown in, and if oats were to be had, half a bushel of them was given in preference to corn, which is apt to heat some horses. In the morning, the nearly empty trough and rack afforded sufficient evidence of the state of his health.

I had not ridden him many days before he became so attached to me that on coming to some limpid stream, in which I had a mind to bathe, I could leave him at liberty to graze, and he would not drink if told not to do so. He was ever sure-footed, and in such continual good spirits, that now and then, when a turkey happened to rise from a dusting place before me, the mere inclination of my body forward was enough to bring him to a smart canter, which he would continue until the bird left the road for the woods, when he never failed to resume his usual trot. On my way homewards I met at the crossings of the Juniata River a gentleman from New Orleans whose name is VINCENT NOLTE. He was mounted on a superb horse, for which he had paid three hundred dollars, and a servant on horseback led another as a change. I was then an utter stranger to him, and as I approached and praised his horse, he not very courteously observed that he wished I had as good a one. Finding that he was going to Bedford to spend the night, I asked him at what hour he would get there. “Just soon enough to have some trouts ready for our supper, provided you will join when you get there.” I almost imagined that Barro understood our conversation; he pricked up his ears, and lengthened his pace, on which Mr NOLTE caracolled his horse, and then put him to a quick trot, but all in vain, for I reached the hotel nearly a quarter of an hour before him, ordered the trouts, saw to the putting away of my good horse, and stood at the door ready to welcome my companion. From that day VINCENT NOLTE has been a friend to me. It was from him I received letters of introduction to the RATHBONES of Liverpool, for which I shall ever be grateful to him. We rode together as far as Shippingport, where my worthy friend NICHOLAS BERTHOUD, Esq. resided, and on parting with me he repeated what he had many times said before, that he never had seen so serviceable a creature as Barro.

If I recollect rightly, I gave a short verbal account of this journey, and of the good qualities of my horse, to my learned friend J. SKINNER, Esq. of Baltimore, who I believe has noticed them in his excellent Sporting Magazine. We agreed that the importation of horses of this kind from the Western Prairies might improve our breeds generally; and, judging from those which I have seen, I am inclined to think that some of them may prove fit for the course. A few days after reaching Henderson, I parted with Barro, not without regret, for a hundred and twenty dollars.

THE NIGHT HERON.

ARDEA NYCTICORAX, LINN.

PLATE CCXXXVI. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG.

The Night Heron is a constant resident in the Southern States, where it is found in abundance in the low swampy tracts near the coast, from the mouth of Sabine River to the eastern boundaries of South Carolina. On the whole of that vast extent of country, it may be procured at all seasons. The adult birds keep farther south than the young, flocks of the latter remaining in South Carolina during the whole winter, and there the Night Herons are at that period more common than most other species of the family. In that State it is named “the Indian Pullet,” in Lower Louisiana the Creoles call it “Gros-bec,” the inhabitants of East Florida know it under the name of “Indian Hen,” and in our Eastern States its usual appellation is “Qua Bird.”

In the course of my winter rambles through East Florida, I met with several of the large places of resort of Night Herons, and, in particular, one remarkable for the vast number of birds congregated there. It is about six miles below the plantation of my friend JOHN BULLOW, Esq., on a bayou which opens into the Halifax River. There several hundred pairs appeared to be already mated, although it was only the month of January; many of the nests of former years were still standing, and all appeared to live in peace and contentment. My friend JOHN BACHMAN is acquainted with a place on Ashley River, about four miles distant from Charleston, where, among the branches of a cluster of live-oak trees, he has for the last fifteen years found a flock of about fifty of these birds during the winter. They were all young, not a single individual having been observed in the adult plumage, which is the more remarkable, because it is usual for young birds to retreat farther south during winter than the old. It is very common at this period for the sportsmen near Charleston to take their stand along the margins of the salt-water ponds, to which the Herons generally resort about dusk; and they frequently obtain several shots in an evening, but not a single old bird is known to have been killed at this season.

The Night Heron seldom advances very far into the country, but remains on the low swampy lands along the coast. It is rare to see one farther up the Mississippi than the mouth of the Arkansas, to which a few are at times induced to go while rambling along the great stream. I never saw one, or heard of any, whilst in Kentucky, and I doubt much if they are ever seen in the upper parts of the State of Tennessee. The distance of a hundred miles from the tide-mark appears to be the farthest extent of their inland movements. On the other hand, they are fond of resorting to the islands along the coast, on many of which they breed.

At the approach of spring, great numbers of those which have wintered far south, leave their places of sojourn and migrate eastward, although probably an equal number remain in the low lands of Louisiana and the Floridas during the whole year. There, indeed, I have found them with eggs in April and May, and as young birds just fledged were very abundant at the same places, I concluded that these eggs were of the second laying. By the middle of March, the number of Night Herons is seen to increase daily in the Carolinas, and, about a month later, some make their appearance in the Middle Districts, where many remain and breed. They are not abundant in the State of New York, are seen sparingly breeding in Massachusetts, while only a few proceed to Maine, and farther eastward they are looked upon as a great curiosity. In Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Labrador, this species is quite unknown.

Some European writers have alleged, that the Night Heron is scarce in the United States, and of rare occurrence even in the southern parts. I wish these people had been with me and my friend BACHMAN, or with some of the many hundred persons who reside in the Southern Districts, or have travelled from Louisiana to North Carolina. How strange it would have appeared to such assertors of notions, to have seen a boatload of Night Herons shot in the course of a few hours, and that too in the winter season.

Excepting while breeding, this species is extremely shy and wary, especially the adults. To approach them from a distance after they have seen you, is no easy task. They seem to know the distance at which your gun can injure them, they watch all your movements, and at the proper moment leave their perches. Should you chance to crack a stick while advancing towards them, they start at once, give a few raps with their wings in the manner of the Common Pigeon, and fly off as if delighted at your disappointment. On the contrary, you may shoot them with ease, if you lie in wait near the places to which they resort to roost by day, and at which they generally arrive singly, or a few at a time, when, from your place of concealment among the trees, you may kill them the moment they alight over your head, and at a short distance. In this manner I have known forty or fifty procured by two sportsmen in the course of about two hours. You may also not unfrequently shoot them at any hour of the day, by starting them from secluded feeding-grounds, and thus I have shot a good many in different parts of the United States, and even in the Middle Districts. They are, however, rarely shot whilst on the ground, their hearing being still more acute than that of the American Bittern, which prefers squatting in the grass to flying off, when any noise is heard, whereas the Night Heron rises immediately.

This species breeds in communities around the stagnant ponds, either near rice plantations or in the interior of retired and secluded swamps, as well as on some of the sea islands covered with evergreen trees. Their heronries are formed either in low bushes, or in middle-sized or tall trees, as seems most convenient or secure. In the Floridas, they are partial to the mangroves that overhang the salt-water; in Louisiana, they prefer the cypresses; and in the Middle States, they find the cedars most suitable. In some breeding-places within a few miles of Charleston, which I visited in company with my friend JOHN BACHMAN, the nests were placed on low bushes, and crowded together, some within a yard of the ground, others raised seven or eight feet above it, many being placed flat on the branches, while others were in the forks. Hundreds of them might be seen at once, as they were built on the side of the bushes fronting the water. Those which I found in the Floridas were all placed on the south-west sides of mangrove islands, but were farther apart from each other, some being only about a foot above high-water mark, while others were in the very tops of the trees, which, however, scarcely exceeded twenty feet in height. In some inland swamps in Louisiana, I saw them placed on the tops of tall cypress trees about a hundred feet high, and along with those of Ardea Herodias, A. alba, and some Anhingas. In the Jerseys I have found the Night Herons breeding on water oaks and cedars; and my friend THOMAS NUTTALL informs me, that “in a very secluded and marshy island, in Fresh Pond, near Boston, there likewise exists one of these ancient heronries; and though the birds have been frequently robbed of their eggs, in great numbers, by mischievous boys, they still lay again immediately after, and usually succeed in raising a second brood.” The same accurate observer remarks, that “about the middle of October, the Qua Birds begin to retire from this part of Massachusetts, towards their southern winter quarters, although a few of the young birds still linger occasionally to the 29th or 30th of that month.” This last observation is a farther evidence of the reluctance which the young of this species feel to go as far south during winter as the old birds.

The nest of the Night Heron is large, flattish, and formed of sticks placed in different directions, sometimes to the height of three or four inches. At times it is arranged with so little care, that the young upset it before they are able to fly. Many of the nests are annually repaired, and these birds, when they have once found an agreeable settlement, return regularly to it, until some calamity forces them to abandon it. The full number of the eggs is four, and they measure at an average two inches and one-sixteenth by an inch and a half. They are thin-shelled, and of a plain light sea-green colour. In about three weeks after the young are hatched, most of them leave the nest, and crawl about the branches, to which they cling firmly, ascending to the tops of the bushes or trees, and there awaiting the return of their parents with food. If you approach them at such times, the greatest consternation ensues both among the young and the old birds; the loud and incessant croaking which both have until then kept up, suddenly ceases; the parent birds rise in the air, sail around and above you, some alighting on the neighbouring trees; while the young scramble off in all directions to avoid being taken. So great at times is their terror, that they throw themselves into the water, and swim off with considerable rapidity, until they reach the shore, when they run and hide in every convenient place. Retire for half an hour, and you will be sure to hear the old and the young calling to each other; the noise gradually increases, and in a short time is as loud as ever. The stench emitted by the excrements with which the abandoned nests, the branches and leaves of the trees and bushes, and the ground, are covered, the dead young, the rotten and broken eggs, together with putrid fish and other matters, renders a visit to these places far from pleasant. Crows, Hawks and Vultures torment the birds by day, while Racoons and other animals destroy them by night. The young are quite as good for eating as those of the Common Pigeon, being tender, juicy, and fat, with very little of the fishy taste of many birds which, like them, feed on fishes and reptiles. At this period few if any of the old birds have the long feathers of the hind head, and these are not reproduced before the latter part of the following winter, when they seem to attain their extreme length in a few weeks.

The flight of the Night Heron is steady, rather slow, and often greatly protracted. They propel themselves by regular flappings of the wings, and, like the true Herons, draw in their head on the shoulders, while their legs stretch out behind, and with the tail form a kind of rudder. When alarmed they at times rise high in the air, and sail about for a while. They sail in the same manner before alighting on their feeding grounds, which they rarely do without having previously attended to their security by alighting on the neighbouring trees and looking about them. Their migrations are performed under night, when their passage is indicated by their loud hoarse notes resembling the syllable qua, uttered at pretty regular intervals. On these occasions they appear to fly faster than usual.

On the ground, this bird exhibits none of the grace observed in all the true Herons; it walks in a stooping posture, the neck much retracted, until it sees its prey, when, with a sudden movement, it stretches it out and secures its food. It is never seen standing motionless, waiting for its prey, like the true Herons, but is constantly moving about in search of it. Its feeding places are the sides of ditches, meadows, the shady banks of creeks, bayous, and ponds or rivers, as well as the extensive salt-marshes and mud-bars left exposed at low water; and I have observed it to alight in the ponds in the suburbs of Charleston towards evening, and feed there. In all such situations, excepting the last, this bird may often be seen by day, but more especially in the evening or morning twilight, wading up to its ankles, or, as we commonly say, its knee-joints. Its food consists of fishes, shrimps, tadpoles, frogs, water-lizards, and leeches, small crustacea of all kinds, water insects, moths, and even mice, which seem not less welcome to it than its more ordinary articles of food. When satisfied, it retires to some high tree on the banks of a stream or in the interior of a swamp, and there it stands, usually on one leg, for hours at a time, apparently dosing, though seldom sound asleep.

When wounded, this bird first tries to make its escape by hiding among the grass or bushes, squatting the moment it finds what it deems a secure place; but if no chance of a safe retreat occurs, it raises its crest, ruffles its feathers, and, opening its bill, prepares to defend itself. It can bite pretty severely, but the injury inflicted by its bill is not to be compared with that produced by its claws, which on such occasions it uses with much effect. If you seize it, it utters a loud, rough, continued sound, and tries to make its escape whenever it perceives the least chance.

The Night Heron undergoes three annual changes of plumage ere it attains its perfect state, although many individuals breed in the spring of the third year. After the first autumnal moult, the young is as you see it represented in the plate. In the second autumn, the markings of the neck and other parts have almost entirely disappeared; the upper parts of the head have become of a dull blackish-green, mixing near the upper mandible with the dull brown of the first season, while the rest of the plumage has assumed a uniform dull ochreous greyish-brown. In the course of the following season, the bird exhibits the green of the shoulders and back, the head is equally richly coloured, and the frontal band between the upper mandible and the eye, and over the latter, is pure white. At this age it rarely has the slender white feathers of the hind head longer than an inch or two. The sides of the neck, and all the lower parts, have become of a purer greyish-white. The wings are now spotless in all their parts, and of a light brownish-grey, as is the tail. The following spring, the plumage is complete, and the bird is as represented in the plate. After this period, with the exception of losing its long crest-feathers after the young are hatched, it retains its colouring. No difference can be observed in the tints of the sexes, but the male is somewhat larger.

A very considerable difference in size is observable at all seasons in birds of this species. Some that are fully feathered, and therefore at least three years old, measure as much as four inches less than others of the same sex, and weigh less in proportion. These circumstances might suffice with some naturalists to attempt to form two species out of one, but in this they would certainly fail.

In the neighbourhood of New Orleans, and along the Mississippi, as far up as Natchez, the shooting of this species is a favourite occupation with the planters, who represent it as equalling any other bird in the delicacy of its flesh.

The frog, of which I have introduced a figure, is common in the retired swamps which the Night Heron frequents, and is often devoured by it. The flowering plants which you see, are abundant in the States of Georgia and South Carolina, as well as in the Floridas.

ARDEA NYCTICORAX, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol.i. p. 235.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol.ii. p. 678.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 306.

NIGHT HERON, OR QUA BIRD, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 3, pl. 51, fig. 2. Adult. FIG. 3. Young.

QUA BIRD, OR AMERICAN NIGHT HERON, ARDEA DISCORS, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 54.

Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCXXXVI. Fig. 1.

Bill a little longer than the head, strong, straight, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched and declinate, the ridge broad and rather rounded at the base, narrowed towards the end, the sides sloping, the edges very sharp and inflected, obscurely serrated with minute oblique slits, and having a distinct notch close to the compressed, rather obtuse tip. Nasal groove wide at the base, extending narrow to near the tip; nostrils basal, linear, wider behind, longitudinal. Lower mandible with the angle very long and narrow, the dorsal line straight and sloping upwards, the sides flat, the sharp obscurely jagged edges slightly inflected, the tip very acute.

Head oblong, much compressed; eyes large. Neck long. Body rather slender, compressed. Feet rather long, robust; tibia bare at its lower part; tarsus covered anteriorly along its upper two-thirds with scutella, below and on the sides with large angular scales; toes long and rather slender, scutellate above, flat beneath, marginate; hind toe stout, fourth a little longer than second, third much longer; claws of moderate size, stout, arched, compressed, rather acute, that of middle toe beautifully pectinate on the inner edge.

Plumage soft, blended. Feathers of the upper and hind part of the head elongated and loose, with three very long, linear incurved occipital feathers, having their webs inflected. The feathers of the neck, especially of its lower part and sides, are also elongated, the latter curved backwards. Wings of moderate length, broad, rounded; primaries broad, rounded, the third longest, the first longer than the fourth. Tail short, slightly rounded, of twelve broad, rounded feathers.

Bill black. Bare loral space and eyelids yellowish-green; iris bright red. Feet yellow; claws brown. Feathers on the upper part of the head, the fore part of the back, and the scapulars, glossy blackish-green; anterior part of forehead white; neck anteriorly white, on the sides and behind shaded into pale lilac, the lower elongated feathers tinged with cream-colour; breast and abdomen white, similarly tinged. Wings, rump, and tail, light greyish-blue, tinged with lilac.

Length to end of tail 25-7/12 inches, to end of wings 25-10/12, to end of claws 30-4/12; extent of wings 44; wing from flexure 13-3/4; tail 5; bill along the ridge 3-2/12, along the edge of lower mandible 4-2/12; bare part of tibia 1-1/4; tarsus 3-1/4; middle toe 3, its claw (7-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb. 14 oz.

Young after first moult. Plate CCXXXVI. Fig. 2.

Bill and bare space about the eye yellowish-green, the ridge of the upper mandible, and part of the lower towards the end, black. Iris bright red. Feet pale greenish-yellow. At this period the occipital feathers are not developed. The general colour of the upper parts is light greyish-brown, the edges of the feathers paler; that of the lower parts dull white, tinged with grey and cream colour, with the central part of each feather greyish-brown; the feathers of the back and wings, as well as the secondary quills, have a long triangular spot of brownish-white at the end; the rump and tail more tinged with bluish-grey.

The Adult Female resembles the Male.

* * * * *

AMARYLLIS ATAMASCO, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 51. Pursh, Flora Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 222.

This species, which grows in swamps, and moist woods, in Virginia and Carolina, is characterized by having an acute bifid spatha, an erect funnel-shaped corolla of a pale rose-colour or pure white, with a short tube at the base, the segments nearly equal, as are the declinate stamens. It flowers in June and July, and attains a height of from eight inches to a foot.

THE HUDSONIAN CURLEW.

NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS, LATH.

PLATE CCXXXVII. MALE.

The habits of this species, which until a few years ago was always confounded with the Esquimaux Curlew, Numenius borealis, are yet in a great measure unknown. Every person who writes on American birds repeats, that it arrives at Hudson’s Bay, breeds farther north, &c.; but none has yet given any of those details so necessary to enable the student of nature to judge in what respects this species resembles, or differs from others, at the season of reproduction. During my visit to Labrador, I made diligent inquiry respecting it and the Esquimaux Curlew, but I obtained no information farther than that the latter is extremely abundant for a few weeks in early autumn, and that the present species was entirely unknown. Even Mr JONES and his sons, who had probably killed thousands of the species just mentioned, had never seen it in the course of their long residence at Bras d’Or. Nor is our information respecting their winter retreats much better, for scarcely any of them are ever seen in the colder months within the limits of the United States, and their movements during their migrations are more rapid than those of most water birds. In short, I am unable to present you with such an account of them as I could have wished.

I have found this species abundant on the shores of New Jersey in the month of May, and there they remain a few weeks. I once saw a large flock of them near Charleston, in the month of December, and I have found them in the Boston market in September. None were ever seen by me in any part of the interior, where, indeed, it is probable they very seldom make their appearance. As I have nothing of any importance to add, I shall present you with a few extracts, from WILSON and NUTTALL, both of whom have had opportunities of observing this species.

“The Short-billed Curlew,” says the former, “arrives in large flocks on the sea-coast of New Jersey early in May, from the south, frequents the salt-marshes, muddy shores, and inlets, feeding on small worms and minute shell-fish. They are most commonly seen on mud-flats at low water, in company with various other waders; and at high water roam along the marshes. They fly high, and with great rapidity. A few are seen in June, and as late as the beginning of July, when they generally move off toward the north. Their appearance on these occasions is very interesting: they collect together from the marshes as if by premeditated design, rise to a great height in the air, usually an hour before sunset, and, forming in one vast line, keep up a constant whistling on their way to the north, as if conversing with one another to render the journey more agreeable. Their flight is then more slow and regular, that the feeblest may keep up with the line of march; while the glittering of their beautifully speckled wings, sparkling in the sun, produces altogether a very pleasing spectacle.

“In the month of June, while the dewberries are ripe, these birds sometimes frequent the fields, in company with the Long-billed Curlews, where brambles abound; soon get very fat, and are at that time excellent eating.”

Nuttall says, “From the middle of August to the beginning of September, they arrive in the vicinity of Massachusetts Bay, and other parts of New England, frequenting the pastures as well as marshes, and fatten on grasshoppers and berries, till the time of their departure, about the close of September; and they wholly disappear from New Jersey, on their way to the south, early in the month of November.”

I have only to add, that, having compared specimens of the present species with the Whimbrel of Europe, Numenius Phæopus, I am satisfied that they are perfectly distinct.

NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 712.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 314.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 377.

ESQUIMAUX CURLEW, SCOLOPAX BOREALIS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 92. pl. 59. fig. 1.

ESQUIMAUX CURLEW, NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 97.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXVII.

Bill much longer than the head, very slender, subcylindrical, compressed, slightly arched. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the sides, excepting at the base, rounded, and marked with a narrow groove extending more than two-thirds of its length, the ridge rather flattened at the base, convex and narrower towards the end, the edges rather obtuse. Nostrils basal, lateral, longitudinal, linear. Lower mandible with the dorsal line arched, or nearly parallel to that of the upper, the angle extremely narrow and extended to near the end, the sides at the base nearly erect with a shallow groove close to the rather obtuse edge; the tips obtuse, and about equal in length.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long, slender. Body rather full. Feet of moderate length, slender. Tibia bare a considerable way above the joint; tarsus with numerous anterior scutella, excepting in its upper fourth, where, and on the sides, it is reticulated. Toes small, scutellate above; first very small, second and fourth about equal, third considerably longer; the anterior toes marginate, and connected at the base by short webs, of which the outer is larger. Claws small, compressed, obtuse, that of middle toe much larger, curved outwards, with a sharp dilated inner edge.

Plumage soft and blended, on the fore part of the head very short; the feathers in general small, oblong or ovate and rounded. Wings rather long, very acute, narrow, the primaries tapering, the first longest, the second a little shorter, the rest regularly and rapidly graduated; secondaries short, incurved, rounded, excepting some of the inner, which are greatly elongated and tapering. Tail short, rounded, of twelve rounded feathers.

Bill brownish-black, the basal half of lower mandible flesh colour. Iris dark brown. Feet greyish-blue, claws black. The upper part of the head is deep brown, with a central longitudinal line of white, and a broader lateral one of the same over each eye; a brown line from the bill to the eye, and another extending behind the latter. The neck all round is pale yellowish-grey, longitudinally streaked with brown, excepting the chin or upper part of the throat, which is greyish-white. The upper parts in general are blackish-brown, marked with numerous spots of brownish-white, there being several along the margins of each feather; the wings and rump are lighter, the upper tail-coverts and tail barred with brown and yellowish-grey, the latter tipped with white. Primaries and their coverts brownish-black, the outer unspotted on their outer web; all with transverse light markings on the inner; the secondaries like the smaller coverts. Breast and abdomen greyish-white, the sides tinged with cream-colour, and barred with pale greyish-brown; the outer lower tail-coverts with a few brown marks.

Length to end of tail 19 inches, to end of wings 18, to end of claws 21; wing from flexure 9-1/4; tail 4; extent of wings 33; bill along the back 4-1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 4-1/2; tarsus 2-4/12, middle toe 1-5/12, its claw 3-(1-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb. 1-1/4 oz.

The Female resembles the male.

The bill varies greatly in length: in a specimen now before me, it is 2-10/12, in another 2-9/12, while in the individual figured it was 4-1/4.

THE GREAT MARBLED GODWIT.

LIMOSA FEDOA, VIEILL.

PLATE CCXXXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

This fine bird is found during winter on all the large muddy flats of the coast of Florida that are intermixed with beds of racoon oysters. As the tide rises it approaches the shores, and betakes itself to the wet savannahs. At this season it is generally seen in flocks of five or six, searching for food in company with the Tell-tale, the Yellow-shanks, the Long-billed Curlew, and the White Ibis. While feeding, it probes the mud and wet sand, often plunging its bill to its whole length, in the manner of the Common Snipe and the Woodcock. It is fond of the small crabs called fiddlers, many of which it obtains both by probing their burrows, and running after them along the edges of the salt meadows and marshes. Sometimes you see it wading in the water up to its body, and when about to lose ground, it rises and extends its wings, still continuing to search for fry, until forced to fly off by the increased depth of the water, when it alights on the shore and recommences its operations. While feeding on the banks, it appears to search for food between and under the oysters with singular care, at times pushing the bill sidewise into the soft mud beneath the shells. Towards the middle of the day, the separate flocks come together, assembling on some large sand-bar, where they remain for hours, trimming their plumage, after which many of them continue some time motionless, standing on one leg. Suddenly, however, they are all seen to stretch their wings upwards, their bleating notes are heard, and the next moment the flock rises, and disperses in small parties, each of which proceeds in a different direction in search of food.

Few birds are more shy or vigilant than the Great Marbled Godwit. It watches the movements of the gunner with extreme care, particularly while in small flocks, in which case it rarely happens that one can approach them, and they are more commonly shot by coming unawares over the concealed sportsman. When in large flocks I have known them to be neared, and killed in great numbers. On such occasions, they walk towards each other, until they are quite close, when they stand still. Then is the time for the gunner, who has driven them before him as it were, to the extremity of a mud or sand-bar, to fire with a certainty of obtaining something worth his trouble, for besides the number killed by his first shot, he is likely to commit equal havock with the second, as they fly off in a dense mass.

On the 31st of May 1832, I saw an immense number of these birds on an extensive mud-bar bordering one of the Keys of Florida, about six miles south of Cape Sable. When I landed with my party, the whole, amounting to some thousands, collected in the manner mentioned above. Four or five guns were fired at once, and the slaughter was such, that I was quite satisfied with the number obtained, both for specimens and for food. For this reason, we refrained from firing at them again, although the temptation was at times great, as they flew over and wheeled round us for a while, until at length they alighted at some distance and began to feed. Those which we killed were plump, and afforded excellent eating. I was much surprised to find these Godwits so far south, but next morning, when none were to be seen excepting some wounded birds which we had not pursued, I concluded that the flock, which was the largest I have seen, had merely alighted there for the day.

The flight of this bird is regular and rather quick, although in the latter respect not to be compared with that of the Curlews. When flying to a considerable distance, or migrating, they usually proceed in extended lines, presenting an irregular front, which rarely preserves its continuity for any length of time, but undulates and breaks as the birds advance. The beat of their wings is regular, and they rarely utter any cries on such occasions.

This species enters the United States, on its return from its northern breeding-grounds, about the middle of August, and probably travels along the coast at that period as well as when proceeding northward, none having been seen by me or my party in Labrador or Newfoundland, and their passage having been observed only on the Atlantic shores of Nova Scotia, and the whole line of our coast, on different parts of which some of the flocks alight, and rest for a few weeks, both in spring and in autumn. I may add, that I never saw one of these birds beyond the distance of a few miles from the sea-shore.

LIMOSA FEDOA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 328.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 395.

GREAT MARBLED GODWIT, SCOLOPAX FEDOA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 30. pl. 56. fig. 4.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 173.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXVIII. Fig. 1.

Bill very long, slender, subcylindrical, tapering to the obtuse point, slightly recurved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly curved upwards in its whole extent, the ridge convex, the sides with a narrow groove extending almost to the point, the edges rather obtuse, the tip very slightly enlarged. Nostrils basal, lateral, nearer the edge than the dorsal line, small, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle very long and extremely narrow, the dorsal line slightly recurved, the sides with a narrow groove extending almost to the end, the edge rather blunt, the tip obtuse.

Head small, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long, slender. Body slender. Feet long and slender. Tibia bare for about a third, anteriorly scutellate; tarsus long, slender, covered anteriorly with numerous scutella, scutellate behind also, laterally reticulate; toes small, slender, scutellate above, flat beneath, broadly marginate, the anterior connected at the base by webs, of which the outer is much larger; first toe very small, second slightly shorter than fourth, third little longer. Claws small, compressed, slightly arched, obtuse, that of middle toe with the inner edge curved outwards and thin.

Plumage soft and blended, on the fore part of the head very short, on the neck short and almost downy, on the abdomen and sides full, on the back moderate; all the feathers oblong and rounded. Wings rather long, very acute, narrow; primaries tapering, the first longest, the second little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries incurved, obliquely rounded, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail short, even, of twelve narrow, rounded feathers.

Bill dull flesh-colour in its basal half, the rest blackish-brown. Iris brown. Feet bluish-grey. The head and neck light yellowish-grey, the throat without markings, the upper part of the head streaked with blackish-brown, as is the hind-neck, the markings there being fainter. The rest of the upper parts spotted and barred with brownish-black and greyish-yellow. Alula and primary coverts brownish-black, as are the outer webs of the three first quills, those of the other primaries, and both webs of the secondaries, reddish-ochre, all more or less mottled with dusky, and the primaries of that colour towards the end, but with the terminal margins whitish; the inner secondaries barred like the back, as are the tail-feathers. Breast, abdomen, and lower surface of wings, light reddish-yellow, the axillar feathers of a deeper tint, the sides faintly barred with dusky.

Length to end of tail 18-1/2 inches, to end of wings 19-1/2, to end of claws 21; wing from flexure 9; tail 3-1/2; bill along the ridge 4-5/12, along the edge of lower mandible 4-4/12; bare part of tibia 1-7/12; tarsus 2-10/12; middle toe 1-8/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12.

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXVIII. Fig. 2.

The Female is considerably larger than the male, but is similar in colouring, the lower parts of a less bright buff.

Length to end of tail 20-1/2 inches, to end of wings 21-1/2; bill 5.

The inner edge of the middle claw is usually broken, which is a common circumstance in birds that have it very thin, but there are no regular serratures or notches upon it.

THE AMERICAN COOT.

FULICA AMERICANA, GMEL.

PLATE CCXXXIX. MALE.

From November until the middle of April, the Coots are extremely numerous in the southern parts of the Floridas, and the lower portions of Louisiana. At that season they are seen in flocks of several hundreds, following their avocations on all the secluded bayous, grassy lakes, and inlets, which are so plentiful in those countries; but after the period above mentioned none remain, and therefore it is certain none can breed there, although such is asserted by Mr BARTRAM, who no doubt mistook the Common Gallinule for the Coot, that bird breeding in those places in considerable numbers. During the month of September, the Coot is also abundant on all the western waters, and its appearance in those districts being so much earlier than in the Floridas, is a sure indication of the inland course of its migrations. On the sea coast, in fact, it is comparatively rare.

Although the curious form of their feet, and the situation of their legs, might induce one to suppose these birds incapable of moving on land with ease, experience proves the contrary, for they not only walk with freedom, but can run with great speed when necessary. They are accustomed to leave the water too, and resort to open lands on the margins of streams and lakes, for the purpose of feeding, both in the morning and in the evening. While ascending the Mississippi, being about fifty miles above New Orleans, on the 21st of March 1822, the weather cloudy, I had the pleasure of seeing about six or seven hundreds of these birds feeding on the grass of a savannah bordering the river. I took them while at some distance, for a great flock of Guinea Fowls. Their movements were brisk, they often struck at each other in the manner of the domestic fowl, and ran with surprising celerity. As I approached nearer, I plainly saw them nibble the tender grass, in the same manner as poultry; and having found a place of concealment behind a rise of the ground, I laid myself flat, and observed their motions at leisure; but during twenty minutes spent in that situation, I did not hear a single note from the flock. I fired among them, and killed five, on which the rest, after running a few steps, all rose and flew off with speed towards the river, mounted high in the air, came curving over me, their legs hanging behind, their wings producing a constant whir, and at length alighted on a narrow channel between the shore, where I was, and a small island. Following them with caution, I got sufficiently near to some of them to be able to see them leap from the water to seize the young leaves of the willows that overhung the shores. While swimming, they moved with ease, although not with much speed, and used a constantly repeated movement of the head and neck, corresponding with that of the feet. Now, twenty or thirty of them would close their ranks, and swim up the stream in a lengthened body, when they would disperse, and pick up the floating substances, not one of them diving all the time. On firing at a large group of them that had approached me, they started off in various directions, patting the water with their feet, and rushing with extended wings, for thirty or forty yards, but without actually flying. After this, they made towards the brushy shores, and disappeared for about a quarter of an hour. The rest of the birds, which were a few hundred yards off, scarcely took notice of the report of the gun; and before I left the place, they had returned to the shore, and walked into another savannah, where they probably remained until night. The next morning not a single Coot could I find while looking for them, for several miles along the river, and I concluded that they had left the place, and continued their migratory journey northward, this being about the beginning of the time of their general departure.

Whilst at General HERNANDEZ’s, in East Florida, I found the Coot abundant in every ditch, bayou, or pond. This was in December 1831, and in the next month I saw great flocks of them near the plantation of my friend JOHN BULLOW, Esq. Whilst on a visit to Spring Garden springs, at the head of the St John’s River, I observed them to be equally abundant along the grassy margins of the lagoons and lakes. On my return from the upper parts of that river to St Augustine, on the 28th February, I saw large flocks of them already moving northward. They had suddenly become shy, and would rise before our boat, at a distance of a hundred yards or so, with apparently scarcely any difficulty, and fly in loose flocks at a considerable height, half a mile or more at a time, and without uttering a note. Indeed, the only sound I ever heard these birds utter, is a rough guttural note, somewhat resembling cruck, cruck, which they use when alarmed, or when chasing each other on the water in anger. I am doubtful whether our Coot cackles and cries by night and by day, as has been reported; on the other hand, I am pretty well assured that Gallinules and Rails of different species have been confounded with the Coot in this respect.

I never saw this species dive for food, and the only fish that I ever found in the many that I have opened, was very small minnows or fry, which I think they catch along the shallow edges of the water. Indeed, unless when wounded, our Coot feels great reluctance at immersing its body in the water; at all events, it has not the quickness of any of the diving birds, and rarely escapes the shot of a common flint gun while attempting to get away. When wounded it dives to some distance, but as soon as it reaches the grass or reeds, it contents itself with lying flat on the water, and thus swimming to the nearest shore, on reaching which it at once runs off and hides in the first convenient place. When undisturbed, it feeds both by day and by night, and as often on land as on the water. Its food consists of seeds, grasses, small fishes, worms, snails, and insects, and along with these it introduces into its stomach a good quantity of rather coarse sand.

The principal breeding places of this species are yet unknown to me. At Charleston it was supposed that it breeds in the neighbourhood of that city; but my friend BACHMAN while searching for their nests at the proper season, saw that the Common Gallinule was in fact the bird that had been taken for the Coot. My learned friend NUTTALL mentions that a pair had bred in Fresh Pond near Boston, and that he there saw parents and young. Some travelling lumberers assured me that the Coot breeds in numbers in the lakes lying between Mars Hill in Maine and the St Lawrence River; but I can find no authentic accounts of its nest having been found in any part of the United States, although some probably breed on the borders of our northern lakes.

In Louisiana, this species is named Poule d’Eau, which is also applied to Rallus crepitans. In all other parts of the Union, it is known by the names of Mud Hen and Coot. The appellation of “Flusterers” given to it by Mr LAWSON in his History of South Carolina, never came to my ear, during my visits to that State.

These birds are frequently caught in the nets placed across the bayous of the lakes in the neighbourhood of New Orleans, for the purpose of catching Blue-winged Teals and other Ducks. They come against them while flying, but if the hunter is not extremely quick they make their escape by nimbly scrambling up, using their bill and feet until they reach the outer part of the net, when they drop into the water like so many terapins. At times they congregate in vast numbers, and swim so closely that a hunter in my employ, while on Lake Barataria, killed eighty at a single shot. They are extremely abundant in the New Orleans’ markets during the latter part of autumn and in winter, when the negroes and the poorer classes purchase them to make “gombo.” In preparing them for cooking, they skin them like rabbits instead of plucking them.

Both old and young birds differ considerably in size and weight. The male, from which I drew the figure in the plate, was procured at General HERNANDEZ’s, in East Florida, and was among the best of about thirty shot on one of my excursions there.

FULICA AMERICANA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 779.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 338.

COMMON COOT, FULICA ATRA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ix. p. 61. pl. 73. fig. 1.

CINEREOUS COOT, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 229.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXIX.

Bill about the same length as the head, stout, straight, compressed, higher than broad at the base. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight and slightly sloping, towards the end slightly arched and deflected, the ridge flattish at the base, and continuous with an oblong soft tumid plate which ascends on the forehead, the rest of the ridge convex; sides rapidly slopping, edges overlapping, sharp, with a slight notch close to the obtuse tip. Nasal groove wide, extending to two-thirds of the whole length of the mandible, filled with a soft bare membrane; nostrils linear, medial, lateral, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long, narrow, rounded, the dorsal line nearly straight, the sides flattish, the edges sharp.

Head small, oblong, much compressed. Neck of moderate length, slender. Body rather full, compressed. Feet of moderate length, strong; tibia bare a short way above the joint; tarsus rather short, compressed, broader below, anteriorly covered with broad scutella, laterally with angular scales, on the outer side behind a row of scutelliform scales; hind toe short, slender; middle toe longest, fourth longer than second; toes scutellate above, hind one with an inferior lobe, second with two larger inner and two smaller outer rounded lobes; third with three, fourth with four on each side; claws of moderate length, slightly arched, much compressed, acute, the middle one with a thin inner edge.

Plumage very soft and blended, on the head and neck short. Wings short, broad, rounded; primaries curved, second longest, third little shorter, first rather longer than sixth, all broad and rounded; secondaries broad, rounded with a minute tip, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail very short, much rounded, of twelve weak rounded feathers; the upper and lower coverts nearly as long as the tail-feathers.

Bill greyish-white, with a dusky spot on each mandible towards the end; frontal callosity white during life, brownish-red after death. Head and neck greyish-black, the upper parts deep bluish-grey, with an olivaceous tinge on the scapulars and inner secondaries. Quills greyish-brown, darker towards the tips; the edge of the wings, outer margin of first quill, and tips of outer secondaries, white. Tail brownish-black; lower tail-coverts white. The breast and abdomen are light bluish-grey, the latter paler, the sides darker; the lower surface of the wings of the same dull leaden tint.

Length to end of tail 13-10/12 inches, to end of wings 14-5/12, to end of claws 18-3/4; extent of wings 25; wing from flexure 7-1/2; tail 2-3/4; bill along the back 1-7/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-2/12; bare part of tibia 3/4; tarsus 2; middle toe 2-8/12, its claw (7-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb.

THE ROSEATE TERN.

STERNA DOUGALLII, MONT.

PLATE CCXL. ADULT.

On the 28th of April 1832, it was my lot to be on the beautiful rocky islet named Indian Key, where I spent a few hours of the night in unsuccessful attempts to procure repose, which was effectually banished by the consciousness of my being in a portion of the country not yet examined by any industrious student of nature, and in which I expected to find much that would prove interesting. The rain fell in torrents, and the rattling of the large drops on the shingles of the veranda in which my hammock had been slung, together with the chillness of the air, contributed to keep me awake. Finding it useless to remain in bed, I roused my companions; it was just four o’clock, and in a few minutes all the people in the house were up, and breakfast preparing. Before six the rain abated, and as I was determined not to lose a day, the guns were mustered, we made our way to the boats, and pushed off through a gentle shower in quest of unknown birds! In about an hour the rain ceased, the sky gradually cleared, and the sun soon dried our clothes. About this time we observed a great number of Terns on a sand bar, which we approached. The birds were not shy, so that we obtained an opportunity of firing two guns at them, when we leaped out, and on wading to the shore picked up thirty-eight Roseate Terns and several of another species.

Beautiful, indeed, are Terns of every kind, but the Roseate excels the rest, if not in form, yet in the lovely hue of its breast. I had never seen a bird of this species before, and as the unscathed hundreds arose and danced as it were in the air, I thought them the Humming Birds of the sea, so light and graceful were their movements. Now they flocked together and hovered over us, again with a sudden dash they plunged towards us in anger; even their cries of wrath sounded musical, and although I had carried destruction among them, I felt delighted. As I have just said, I had not before seen a Roseate Tern, not even the skin of one stuffed with tow; the species was not in the Synopsis of my friend BONAPARTE, and now I had my cap filled to the brim with specimens. You may rest assured that I took precious care of those which I had procured, but not another individual was robbed of life on that excursion. The other Terns were as new to me. I observed the form of their black bill and feet, the yellow tip of the former, and wrapped them up with care, while I tried to recollect the name they bore in books. To have found hundreds of the Roseate Tern in the Floridas, while I had anxious but slender hopes of meeting it on the coast of Labrador, was to me quite astonishing. So it was, however, and I determined to ransack every key and sand-beach, to try to find its breeding-ground. Nor were my desires ungratified.

The Roseate Tern spends the breeding season along the southern shores of the Floridas in considerable numbers. At different times in the course of nearly three months which I spent among the keys, I saw flocks of twenty, thirty, or more pairs, breeding on small detached rocky islands, scantily furnished with grass, and in the company of hundreds of Sandwich Terns. The two species appeared to agree well together, and their nests were intermingled. The full number of eggs of the present species is three. They differ considerably in size and markings; their average length, however, is an inch and three quarters, their breadth an inch and one-eighth; they are of a longish oval shape, rather narrowed at the small end, of a dull buff or clay colour, sparingly sprinkled and spotted with different tints of umber and light purple. They were deposited on the bare rocks, among the roots of the grasses, and left in fair weather to the heat of the sun. Like those of the Common Tern and other species, they are delicious eating. The eggs of the Sandwich Tern were more attended to during the day, but toward night both species sat on their eggs. I did not see any of the young, but procured a good number of those of the preceding year, which kept apart from the old birds, but had in all respects the same habits.

The Roseate Tern is at all times a noisy, restless bird; and on approaching its breeding place, it incessantly emits its sharp shrill cries, resembling the syllable crāk. Its flight is unsteady and flickering, like that of the Arctic or Lesser Terns, but rather more buoyant and graceful. They would dash at us and be off again with astonishing quickness, making great use of their tail on such occasions. While in search of prey, they carry the bill in the manner of the Common Tern, that is perpendicularly downward, plunge like a shot, with wings nearly closed, so as to immerse part of the body, and immediately reascend. They were seen dipping in this manner eight or ten times in succession, and each time generally secured a small fish. Their food consisted of fishes, and a kind of small molluscous animal which floats near the surface, and bears the name of “sailor’s button.” They usually kept in parties of from ten to twenty, followed the shores of the sand-bars and keys, moving backwards and forwards much in the manner of the Lesser Tern, and wherever a shoal of small fish was found, there they would hover and dash headlong at them for several minutes at a time.

The wreckers informed me that this species returns regularly to these islands each spring, about the 10th of April, and goes off southward early in September. These birds, with their favourite companions the Sandwich Terns, habitually resorted to the sand-bars each day, to rest for an hour or two. I have never seen them on any part of our middle or eastern coast, and am of opinion that they rarely proceed farther eastward than the Capes of Florida, and that they are more attached to the immediate vicinity of the shores than the larger species, which more generally fly out to some distance. The delicate and beautiful rosy tint of the breast soon fades after death. Those specimens which were not skinned immediately after being procured did not retain it for a week, and in none of them was it perceptible, without separating the feathers, at the end of a month. In winter it disappears, as well as the glossy black of the head. The length of the outer tail-feathers varies considerably; but I could perceive no decided difference of size or colour in the sexes, although I thought the females somewhat smaller than the males.

STERNA DOUGALLII, Mont. Ornith. Dict.

HIRONDELLE-DE-MER DOUGALL, STERNA DOUGALLII, Temm. Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 738.

ROSEATE TERN, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 278.

Adult Male. Plate CCXL.

Bill longer than the head, slender, tapering, compressed, nearly straight, very acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge rather broad and convex at the base, narrow towards the end, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nasal groove short, extended to one-third of the length of the bill, deflected towards the edge; nostrils basal, linear, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow, very acute, extending to a little beyond the middle, the dorsal line straight, the sides convex, the sharp edges inflected, the tip extremely acute.

Head of moderate size, oblong; neck of moderate length; body very slender; feet small; wings and tail very long. Tibia bare for a considerable space; tarsus very short, slender, roundish, covered anteriorly with small scutella, laterally and behind with reticular scales; toes small, slender, the first very small, the third longest, the fourth nearly as long, the second much shorter, all scutellate above, the anterior united by reticulated webs having a concave margin; claws curved, compressed, acute, that of hind toe smallest, of middle toe by much the largest, and having the inner edge thin and dilated.

Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the head; the feathers in general broad and rounded. Wings very long, narrow, and pointed; primary quills tapering, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary short, broad, incurved, rounded, the inner more tapering. Tail long, very deeply forked, of twelve feathers, of which the outer are tapering, the middle short and rounded.

Bill brownish-black, deep orange at the base. Iris brown. Feet vermilion; claws blackish-brown, yellow at the base. The upper part of the head and elongated occipital feathers greenish-black; the hind neck white, the rest of the upper parts pale bluish-grey, the tail lighter; the edges of the wings, the tips and inner edges of the quills, and the shafts white. The first primary is black on the outer web and part of the inner, the next two are similarly marked, but with the black shaded over with pale grey, the loose barbules being of that colour; the other primaries become gradually lighter. The lower parts are of a beautiful light roseate hue, which soon fades after death; the under surface of wings and tail white.

Length to end of tail 14-10/12 inches, to end of wings 12, to end of claws 9-4/12; extent of wings 30; wing from flexure 9-1/2; tail to end of shortest feathers 4-3/4, to end of longest feathers 7-1/2; bill along the ridge 1-1/2, along the edge of lower mandible 2-1/12; tarsus 10/12, middle toe 10/12 its claw (3-1/2)/12.

REMINISCENCES OF THOMAS BEWICK.

Through the kindness of Mr SELBY of Twizel-House in Northumberland, I had anticipated the pleasure of forming an acquaintance with the celebrated and estimable BEWICK, whose works indicate an era in the history of the art of engraving on wood. In my progress southward, after leaving Edinburgh in 1827, I reached Newcastle-upon-Tyne about the middle of April, when Nature had begun to decorate anew the rich country around. The lark was in full song, the blackbird rioted in the exuberance of joy, the husbandman cheerily plied his healthful labours, and I, although a stranger in a foreign land, felt delighted with all around me, for I had formed friends who were courteous and kind, and whose favour I had reason to hope would continue. Nor have I been disappointed in my expectations.

BEWICK must have heard of my arrival at Newcastle before I had an opportunity of calling upon him, for he sent me by his son the following note:—“T. BEWICK’s compliments to Mr AUDUBON, and will be glad of the honour of his company this day to tea at six o’clock.” These few words at once proved to me the kindness of his nature, and, as my labours were closed for the day, I accompanied the son to his father’s house.

As yet I had seen but little of the town, and had never crossed the Tyne. The first remarkable object that attracted my notice was a fine church, which my companion informed me was that of St Nicholas. Passing over the river by a stone bridge of several arches, I saw by the wharfs a considerable number of vessels, among which I distinguished some of American construction. The shores on either side were pleasant, the undulated ground being ornamented with buildings, windmills, and glassworks. On the water glided, or were swept along by great oars, boats of singular form, deeply laden with the subterranean produce of the hills around.

At length we reached the dwelling of the Engraver, and I was at once shewn to his workshop. There I met the old man, who, coming towards me, welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand, and for a moment took off a cotton night-cap, somewhat soiled by the smoke of the place. He was a tall stout man, with a large head, and with eyes placed farther apart than those of any man that I have ever seen:—a perfect old Englishman, full of life, although seventy-four years of age, active and prompt in his labours. Presently he proposed shewing me the work he was at, and went on with his tools. It was a small vignette, cut on a block of boxwood not more than three by two inches in surface, and represented a dog frightened at night by what he fancied to be living objects, but which were actually roots and branches of trees, rocks, and other objects bearing the semblance of men. This curious piece of art, like all his works, was exquisite, and more than once did I feel strongly tempted to ask a rejected bit, but was prevented by his inviting me up stairs, where, he said, I should soon meet all the best artists of Newcastle.

There I was introduced to the Misses BEWICK, amiable and affable ladies, who manifested all anxiety to render my visit agreeable. Among the visitors I saw a Mr GOUD, and was highly pleased with one of the productions of his pencil, a full length miniature in oil of BEWICK, well drawn, and highly finished.

The old gentleman and I stuck to each other, he talking of my drawings, I of his wood-cuts. Now and then he would take off his cap, and draw up his grey worsted stockings to his nether clothes; but whenever our conversation became animated, the replaced cap was left sticking as if by magic to the hind part of his head, the neglected hose resumed their downward tendency, his fine eyes sparkled, and he delivered his sentiments with a freedom and vivacity which afforded me great pleasure. He said he had heard that my drawings had been exhibited in Liverpool, and felt great anxiety to see some of them, which he proposed to gratify by visiting me early next morning along with his daughters and a few friends. Recollecting at that moment how desirous my sons, then in Kentucky, were to have a copy of his works on Quadrupeds, I asked him where I could procure one, when he immediately answered “Here,” and forthwith presented me with a beautiful set.

The tea-drinking having in due time come to an end, young BEWICK, to amuse me, brought a bagpipe of a new construction, called the Durham Pipe, and played some simple Scotch, English and Irish airs, all sweet and pleasing to my taste. I could scarcely understand how, with his large fingers, he managed to cover each hole separately. The instrument sounded somewhat like a hautboy, and had none of the shrill warlike notes or booming sound of the military bagpipe of the Scotch Highlanders. The company dispersed at any early hour, and when I parted from BEWICK that night, I parted from a friend.

A few days after this I received another note from him, which I read hastily, having with me at the moment many persons examining my drawings. This note having, as I understood it, intimated his desire that I should go and dine with him that day, I accordingly went; but judge of my surprise when, on arriving at his house at 5 o’clock, with an appetite becoming the occasion, I discovered that I had been invited to tea and not to dinner. However, the mistake was speedily cleared up to the satisfaction of all parties, and an abundant supply of eatables was placed on the table. The Reverend WILLIAM TURNER joined us, and the evening passed delightfully. At first our conversation was desultory and multifarious, but when the table was removed, BEWICK took his seat by the fire, and we talked of our more immediate concerns. In due time we took leave, and returned to our homes, pleased with each other and with our host.

Having been invited the previous evening to breakfast with BEWICK at 8, I revisited him at that hour on the 16th April, and found the whole family so kind and attentive that I felt quite at home. The good gentleman, after breakfast, soon betook himself to his labours, and began to shew me, as he laughingly said, how easy it was to cut wood; but I soon saw that cutting wood in his style and manner was no joke, although to him it seemed indeed easy. His delicate and beautiful tools were all made by himself, and I may with truth say that his shop was the only artist’s “shop” that I ever found perfectly clean and tidy. In the course of the day BEWICK called upon me again, and put down his name on my list of subscribers in behalf of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle. In this, however, his enthusiasm had misled him, for the learned body for which he took upon himself to act, did not think proper to ratify the compact.

Another invitation having come to me from Gatehead, I found my good friend seated in his usual place. His countenance seemed to me to beam with pleasure as he shook my hand. “I could not bear the idea,” said he, “of your going off, without telling you, in written words, what I think of your Birds of America. Here it is in black and white, and make of it what use you may, if it be of use at all.” I put the unsealed letter in my pocket, and we chatted on subjects connected with natural history. Now and then he would start and exclaim, “Oh, that I were young again! I would go to America too. Hey! what a country it will be, Mr AUDUBON.” I retorted by exclaiming, “Hey! what a country it is already, Mr BEWICK!” In the midst of our conversation on birds and other animals, he drank my health and the peace of all the world in hot brandy toddy, and I returned the compliment, wishing, no doubt in accordance with his own sentiments, the health of all our enemies. His daughters enjoyed the scene, and remarked, that for years, their father had not been in such a flow of spirits.

I regret that I have not by me at present the letter which this generous and worthy man gave me that evening, otherwise, for his sake, I should have presented you with it. It is in careful keeping, however, as a memorial of a man whose memory is dear to me; and be assured I regard it with quite as much pleasure as a manuscript “Synopsis of the Birds of America,” by ALEXANDER WILSON, which that celebrated individual gave to me at Louisville in Kentucky, more than twenty years ago. BEWICK’s letter, however, will be presented to you along with many others, in connection with some strange facts, which I hope may be useful to the world. We protracted our conversation beyond our usual time of retiring to rest, and at his earnest request, and much to my satisfaction, I promised to spend the next evening with him, as it was to be my last at Newcastle for some time.

On the 19th of the same month I paid him my last visit, at his house. When we parted, he repeated three times, “God preserve you, God bless you!” He must have been sensible of the emotion which I felt, and which he must have read in my looks, although I refrained from speaking on the occasion.

A few weeks previous to the death of this fervent admirer of nature, he and his daughters paid me a visit in London. He looked as well as when I had seen him at Newcastle. Our interview was short but agreeable, and when he bade adieu, I was certainly far from thinking that it might be the last. But so it was, for only a very short time had elapsed when I saw his death announced in the newspapers.

My opinion of this remarkable man is, that he was purely a son of nature, to whom alone he owed nearly all that characterized him as an artist and a man. Warm in his affections, of deep feeling, and possessed of a vigorous imagination, with correct and penetrating observation, he needed little extraneous aid to make him what he became, the first engraver on wood that England has produced. Look at his tail-pieces, Reader, and say if you ever saw so much life represented before, from the glutton who precedes the Great Black-backed Gull, to the youngsters flying their kite, the disappointed sportsman who, by shooting a magpie, has lost a woodcock, the horse endeavouring to reach the water, the bull roaring near the style, or the poor beggar attacked by the rich man’s mastiff. As you turn each successive leaf, from beginning to end of his admirable books, scenes calculated to excite your admiration everywhere present themselves. Assuredly you will agree with me in thinking that in his peculiar path none has equalled him. There may be men now, or some may in after years appear, whose works may in some respects rival or even excel his, but not the less must THOMAS BEWICK of Newcastle-on-Tyne be considered in the art of engraving on wood what LINNÆUS will ever be in natural history, though not the founder, yet the enlightened improver and illustrious promoter.

THE GREAT BLACK-BACKED GULL.

LARUS MARINUS, LINN.

PLATE CCXLI. MALE.

High in the thin keen air, far above the rugged crags of the desolate shores of Labrador, proudly sails the tyrant Gull, floating along on almost motionless wing, like an eagle in his calm and majestic flight. On widely extended pinions, he moves in large circles, constantly eyeing the objects below. Harsh and loud are his cries, and with no pleasant feeling do they come on the winged multitudes below. Now onward he sweeps, passes over each rocky bay, visits the little islands, and shoots off towards the mossy heaths, attracted perhaps by the notes of the Grous or some other birds. As he flies over each estuary, lake, or pool, the breeding birds prepare to defend their unfledged broods, or ensure their escape from the powerful beak of their remorseless spoiler. Even the shoals of the finny tribes sink deeper into the waters as he approaches; the young birds become silent in their nests or seek for safety in the clefts of the rocks; the Guillemots and Gannets dread to look up, and the other Gulls, unable to cope with the destroyer, give way as he advances. Far off among the rolling billows, he spies the carcass of some monster of the deep, and, on steady wing, glides off towards it. Alighting on the huge whale, he throws upwards his head, opens his bill, and, louder and fiercer than ever, sends his cries through the air. Leisurely he walks over the putrid mass, and now, assured that all is safe, he tears, tugs, and swallows piece after piece, until he is crammed to the throat, when he lays himself down surfeited and exhausted, to rest for a while in the feeble sheen of the northern sun. Great, however, are the powers of his stomach, and ere long the half-putrid food which vulture-like he has devoured, is digested. Like all gluttons, he loves variety, and away he flies to some well-known isle, where thousands of young birds or eggs are to be found. There, without remorse, he breaks the shells, swallows their contents, and begins leisurely to devour the helpless young. Neither the cries of the parents, nor all their attempts to drive the plunderer away, can induce him to desist until he has again satisfied his ever-craving appetite. But although tyrannical, the Great Gull is a coward, and meanly does he sneak off when he sees the Skua fly up, which, smaller as it is, yet evinces a thoughtless intrepidity, that strikes the ravenous and merciless bird with terror.

If we compare this species with some other of its tribe, and mark its great size, its powerful flight, and its robust constitution, we cannot but wonder to find its range so limited during the breeding season. Few individuals are to be found northward of the entrance into Baffin’s Bay, and rarely are they met with beyond this, as no mention is made of them by Dr RICHARDSON in the Fauna Boreali-Americana. Along our coast, none breed farther south than the eastern extremity of Maine. The western shores of Labrador, along an extent of about three hundred miles, afford the stations to which this species resorts during spring and summer; there it is abundant, and there it was that I studied its habits.

The farthest limits of the winter migrations of the young, so far as I have observed, are the middle portions of the eastern coast of the Floridas. While at St Augustine, in the winter of 1831, I saw several pairs keeping company with the young Brown Pelican, more as a matter of interest than of friendship, as they frequently chased them as if to force them to disgorge a portion of their earnings, acting much in the same manner as the Lestris does toward the smaller Gulls, but without any effect. They were extremely shy, alighted only on the outer edges of the outer sand-bars, and could not be approached, as they regularly walked off before my party the moment any of us moved towards them, until reaching the last projecting point, they flew off, and never stopped until out of sight. At what period they left that coast I am unable to say. Some are seen scattered along our sea-shores, from the Floridas to the Middle States, there being but few old birds among them; but the species does not become abundant until beyond the eastern extremities of the Connecticut and Long Island, when their number greatly increases the farther you proceed. On the whole of that extensive range, these birds are very shy and wary, and those which are procured are merely “chance shots.” They seldom advance far up the bays, unless forced to do so by severe weather or heavy gales; and although I have seen this bird on our great lakes, I do not remember having ever observed an individual on any of our eastern rivers, at a distance from the sea, whereas the Larus argentatus is frequently found in such places.

Towards the commencement of summer, these wandering birds are seen abandoning the waters of the ocean to tarry for a while on the wild shores of Labrador, dreary and desolate to man, but to them delightful as affording all that they can desire. One by one they arrive, the older individuals first. As they view from afar the land of their birth, that moment they emit their loud cries, with all the joy a traveller feels when approaching his loved home. The males sooner or later fall in with the females of their choice, and together they proceed to some secluded sand-bar, where they fill the air with their furious laughs until the rocks echo again. Should the student of nature happen to be a distant spectator of these meetings, he too must have much enjoyment. Each male bows, moves around his mate, and no doubt discloses to her the ardour of his love. Matters are managed to the satisfaction of all parties, yet day after day for a while, at the retreat of the waters, they meet as if by mutual agreement. Now you see them dressing their plumage, now partially expanding their wings to the sun; some lay themselves comfortably down on the sand, while others, supported by one foot, stand side by side. The waters again advance, and the Gulls all move off in search of food. At length the time has arrived; small parties of a few pairs fly towards the desert isles. Some remain in the nearest to prepare their nests, the rest proceed, until each pair has found a suitable retreat, and before a fortnight has elapsed, incubation has commenced.

The nest of this species is usually placed on the bare rock of some low island, sometimes beneath a projecting shelf, sometimes in a wide fissure. In Labrador it is formed of moss and seaweeds carefully arranged, and has a diameter of about two feet, being raised on the edges to the height of five or six inches, but seldom more than two inches thick in the centre, where feathers, dry grass, and other materials are added. The eggs are three, and in no instance have I found more. They are two inches and seven-eighths in length, by two inches and one-eighth in breadth, broadly ovate, rough but not granulated, of a pale earthy greenish-grey colour, irregularly blotched and spotted with brownish-black, dark umber, and dull purple. Like those of most other Gulls, they afford good eating. This species lays from the middle of May to that of June, and raises only one brood in the season. The birds never leave their eggs for any length of time, until the young make their appearance. Both sexes incubate, the sitting bird being supplied with food by the other. During the first week, the young are fed by having their supplies disgorged into their bill, but when they have attained some size, the food is dropped beside or before them. When they are approached by man, they walk with considerable speed towards some hiding place, or to the nearest projecting ledge, beneath which they squat. When five or six weeks old, they take to the water, to ensure their escape, and swim with great buoyancy. If caught, they cry in the manner of their parents. On the 18th of June, several small ones were procured and placed on the deck of the Ripley, where they walked with ease and picked up the food thrown to them. As soon as one was about to swallow its portion, another would run up, seize it, tug at it, and if stronger, carry it off and devour it. On the 23d of that month, two individuals, several weeks old, and partly fledged, were also brought on board. Their notes, although feeble, perfectly resembled those of their parents. They ate greedily of every thing that was offered to them. When fatigued they sat with their tarsi placed on the ground and extended forward, in the manner of all the Herons, which gave them a very ludicrous appearance. Ere a month had elapsed, they appeared to have formed a complete acquaintance with the cook and several of the sailors, had become quite fat, and conducted themselves much like Vultures, for if a dead Duck, or even a Gull of their own species, were thrown to them, they would tear it in pieces, drink the blood, and swallow the flesh in large morsels, each trying to rob the others of what they had torn from the carcass. They never drank water, but not unfrequently washed the blood and filth from their bills, by immersing them and then shaking the head violently. These birds were fed until they were nearly able to fly. Now and then, the sailors would throw them overboard while we were in harbour. This seemed to gratify the birds as well as the sailors, for they would swim about, wash themselves, and dress their plumage, after which they would make for the sides, and would be taken on board. During a violent gale, one night, while we were at anchor in the harbour of Bras d’Or, our bark rolled heavily, and one of our pets went over the side and swam to the shore, where, after considerable search next day, it was found shivering by the lee of a rock. On being brought to its brothers, it was pleasant to see their mutual congratulations, which were extremely animated. Before we left the coast, they would sometimes fly of their own accord into the water to bathe, but could not return to the deck without assistance, although they endeavoured to do so. I had become much attached to them, and now and then thought they looked highly interesting, as they lay panting on their sides on the deck, although the thermometer did not rise above 55°. Their enmity to my son’s pointer was quite remarkable, and as that animal was of a gentle and kindly disposition, they would tease him, bite him, and drive him fairly from the deck into the cabin. A few days after leaving St George’s Bay in Newfoundland, we were assailed by a violent gale, and obliged to lie-to. Next day one of the Gulls was washed overboard. It tried to reach the vessel again, but in vain; the gale continued; the sailors told me the bird was swimming towards the shore, which was not so far off as we could have wished, and which it probably reached in safety. The other was given to my friend Lieutenant GREEN of the United States Army, at Eastport in Maine. In one of his letters to me the following winter, he said that the young Larus marinus was quite a pet in the garrison, and doing very well, but that no perceptible change had taken place in its plumage.

On referring to my journal again, I find that while we were at anchor at the head of St George’s Bay, the sailors caught many codlings, of which each of our young Gulls swallowed daily two, measuring from eight to ten inches in length. It was curious to see them after such a meal: the form of the fish could be traced along the neck, which for a while they were obliged to keep stretched out; they gaped and were evidently suffering; yet they would not throw up the fish. About the time the young of this species are nearly able to fly, they are killed in considerable numbers on their breeding grounds, skinned and salted for the settlers and resident fishermen of Labrador and Newfoundland, at which latter place I saw piles of them. When they are able to shift for themselves, their parents completely abandon them, and old and young go separately in search of food.

The flight of the Great Black-backed Gull is firm, steady, at times elegant, rather swift, and long protracted. While travelling, it usually flies at the height of fifty or sixty yards, and proceeds in a direct course, with easy regulated flappings. Should the weather prove tempestuous, this Gull, like most others, skims over the surface of the waters or the land within a few yards or even feet, meeting the gale, but not yielding to it, and forcing its way against the strongest wind. In calm weather and sunshine, at all seasons of the year, it is fond of soaring to a great height, where it flies about leisurely and with considerable elegance for half an hour or so, in the manner of eagles, vultures, and ravens. Now and then, while pursuing a bird of its own species, or trying to escape from an enemy, it passes through the air with rapid boundings, which, however, do not continue long, and as soon as they are over it rises and slowly sails in circles. When man encroaches on its domains, it keeps over him at a safe distance, not sailing so much as moving to either side with continued flappings. To secure the fishes on which it more usually preys, it sweeps downwards with velocity, and as it glides over the spot, picks up its prey with its bill. If the fish be small, the Gull swallows it on wing, but if large, it either alights on the water, or flies to the nearest shore to devour it.

Although a comparatively silent bird for three-fourths of the year, the Great Black-backed Gull becomes very noisy at the approach of the breeding season, and continues so until the young are well fledged, after which it resumes its silence. Its common notes, when it is interrupted or surprised, sound like cack, cack, cack. While courting, they are softer and more lengthened, and resemble the syllables cawah, which are often repeated as it sails in circles or otherwise, within view of its mate or its place of abode.

This species walks well, moving firmly and with an air of importance. On the water it swims lightly but slowly, and may soon be overtaken by a boat. It has no power of diving, although at times, when searching for food along the shores, it will enter the water on seeing a crab or a lobster, to seize it, in which it at times succeeds. I saw one at Labrador plunge after a large crab in about two feet of water, when, after a tug, it hauled it ashore, where it devoured it in my sight. I watched its movements with a glass, and could easily observe how it tore the crab to pieces, swallowed its body, leaving the shell and the claws, after which it flew off to its young and disgorged before them.

It is extremely voracious, and devours all sorts of food excepting vegetables, even the most putrid carrion, but prefers fresh fish, young birds, or small quadrupeds, whenever they can be procured. It sucks the eggs of every bird it can find, thus destroying great numbers of them, as well as the parents, if weak or helpless. I have frequently seen these Gulls attack a flock of young Ducks while swimming beside their mother, when the latter, if small, would have to take to wing, and the former would all dive, but were often caught on rising to the surface, unless they happened to be among rushes. The Eider Duck is the only one of the tribe that risks her life, on such occasions, to save that of her young. She will frequently rise from the water, as her brood disappear beneath, and keep the Gull at bay, or harass it until her little ones are safe under some shelving rocks, when she flies off in another direction, leaving the enemy to digest his disappointment. But while the poor Duck is sitting on her eggs in any open situation, the marauder assails her, and forces her off, when he sucks the eggs in her very sight. Young Grous are also the prey of this Gull, which chases them over the moss-covered rocks, and devours them before their parents. It follows the shoals of fishes for hours at a time, and usually with great success. On the coast of Labrador, I frequently saw these birds seize flounders on the edges of the shallows; they often attempted to swallow them whole, but, finding this impracticable, removed to some rock, beat them, and tore them to pieces. They appear to digest feathers, bones, and other hard substances with ease, seldom disgorging their food, unless for the purpose of feeding their young or mates, or when wounded and approached by man, or when pursued by some bird of greater power. While at Boston in Massachusetts, one cold winter morning, I saw one of these Gulls take up an eel, about fifteen or eighteen inches in length, from a mud bank. The Gull rose with difficulty, and after some trouble managed to gulp the head of the fish, and flew towards the shore with it, when a White-headed Eagle made its appearance, and soon overtook the Gull, which reluctantly gave up the eel, on which the Eagle glided towards it, and, seizing it with its talons, before it reached the water, carried it off.

This Gull is excessively shy and vigilant, so that even at Labrador we found it difficult to procure it, nor did we succeed in obtaining more than about a dozen old birds, and that only by stratagem. They watched our movements with so much care as never to fly past a rock behind which one of the party might be likely to lie concealed. None were shot near the nests when they were sitting on their eggs, and only one female attempted to rescue her young, and was shot as she accidentally flew within distance. The time to surprise them was during violent gales, for then they flew close to the tops of the highest rocks, where we took care to conceal ourselves for the purpose. When we approached the rocky islets on which they bred, they left the place as soon as they became aware of our intentions, cackled and barked loudly, and when we returned, followed us at a distance more than a mile.

They begin to moult early in July. In the beginning of August the young were seen searching for food by themselves, and even far apart. By the 12th of that month they had all left Labrador. We saw them afterwards along the coast of Newfoundland, and while crossing the Gulf of St Lawrence, and found them over the bays of Nova Scotia, as we proceeded southward. When old, their flesh is tough and unfit for food. Their feathers are elastic, and good for pillows and such purposes, but can rarely be procured in sufficient quantity.

The most remarkable circumstance relative to these birds is, that they either associate with another species, giving rise to a hybrid brood, or that when very old they lose the dark colour of the back, which is then of the same tint as that of the Larus argentatus, or even lighter. This curious fact was also remarked by the young gentlemen who accompanied me to Labrador; and although it is impossible for me to clear up the doubts that may be naturally entertained on this subject, whichever of the two suppositions is adopted, the fact may yet be established and accounted for by persons who may have better opportunities of watching them and studying their habits. No individuals of Larus argentatus were, to my knowledge, seen on that coast during the three months which I passed there, and the fishermen told us that the “saddle-backs were the only large Gulls that ever breed there.”

This bird must be of extraordinary longevity, as I have seen one that was kept in a state of captivity more than thirty years. The following very interesting account of the habits of a partially domesticated individual I owe to my esteemed and learned friend Dr NEILL of Edinburgh.

“In the course of the summer of 1818, a “big scorie” was brought to me by a Newhaven fisher-boy, who mentioned that it had been picked up at sea, about the mouth of the Frith of Forth. The bird was not then fully fledged: it was quite uninjured: it quickly learned to feed on potatoes and kitchen refuse, along with some ducks; and it soon became more familiar than they, often peeping in at the kitchen window in hopes of getting a bit of fat meat, which it relished highly. It used to follow my servant PEGGY OLIVER about the doors, expanding its wings and vociferating for food. After two moults I was agreeably surprised to find it assuming the dark plumage of the back, and the shape and colour of the bill of the Larus marinus, or Great Black-backed Gull; for I had hitherto regarded it as merely a large specimen of the Lesser Black-backed (L. fuscus), a pair of which I then possessed, but which had never allowed the new comer to associate with them. The bird being perfectly tame, we did not take the precaution of keeping the quills of one wing cut short, so as to prevent flight; indeed, as it was often praised as a remarkably large and noble looking Sea-maw, we did not like to disfigure it. In the winter 1821-2, it got a companion in a cock-heron, which had been wounded in Coldinghame Muir, brought to Edinburgh alive, and kept for some weeks in a cellar in the old College, and then presented to me by the late Mr JOHN WILSON, the janitor,—a person remarkably distinguished for his attachment to natural history pursuits. This Heron we succeeded in taming completely, and it still (1835) remains with me, having the whole garden to range in, the trees to roost upon, and access to the Loch at pleasure, the loch being the boundary of my garden. Some time in the spring of 1822, the large Gull was amissing; and we ascertained (in some way that has now escaped my memory) that it had not been stolen, nor killed, as we at first supposed, but had taken flight, passing northwards over the village, and had probably therefore gone to sea. Of course I gave up all expectation of ever hearing more of it. It was not without surprise, therefore, that on going home one day in the end of October of that year, I heard my servant calling out with great exultation, “Sir, Big Gull is come back!” I accordingly found him walking about in his old haunts in the garden, in company with, and recognising (as I am firmly persuaded) his old friend the Heron. He disappeared in the evening, and returned in the morning, for several days; when PEGGY OLIVER thought it best to secure him. He evidently did not like confinement, and it was concerted that he should be allowed his liberty, although he ran much risk of being shot on the mill-pond by youthful sportsmen from Edinburgh. After this temporary captivity, he was more cautious and shy than formerly; but still he made almost daily visits to the garden, and picked up herrings or other food laid down for him. In the beginning of March 1823 his visits ceased; and we saw no more of him till late in the autumn of that year. These winter visits to Canonmills, and summer excursions to the unknown breeding-place, were continued for years with great uniformity: only I remarked that after the Gull lost his protectress, who died in 1828[A], he became more distant in his manners. In my note-book, under date of 26th October 1829, I find this entry: ‘Old PEGGY’s Great Black-backed Gull arrived at the pond this morning, the seventh (or eighth) winter he has regularly returned. He had a scorie with him, which was soon shot on the loch, by some cockney sportsman.’ The young bird, doubtless one of his offspring, had its wing shattered, and continued alive in the middle of the pond, occasionally screaming piteously, for two or three days, till relieved by death. The old Gull immediately abandoned the place for that winter, as if reproaching us for cruelty. By next autumn, however, he seemed to have forgotten the injury; for, according to my record, ‘30th October 1830. The Great Black-backed Gull once more arrived at Canonmills garden.’ The periods of arrival, residence, and departure were nearly similar in the following year. But in 1832, not only October, but the months of November and December passed away without Gull’s making his appearance, and I of course despaired of again seeing him. He did, however, at length arrive. The following is the entry in my common-place book: ‘Sunday, 6th January 1833. This day the Great Black-back returned to the mill-pond, for (I think) the eleventh season. He used to re-appear in October in former years, and I concluded him dead or shot. He recognised my voice, and hovered over my head.’ He disappeared early in March as usual, and re-appeared at Canonmills on 23d December 1833, being a fortnight earlier than the date of his arrival in the preceding season, but six weeks later than the original period of re-appearance. He left in the beginning of March as usual, and I find from my notes that he ‘reappeared on 30th December 1834 for the season, first hovering around and then alighting on the pond as in former years.’ The latest entry is, ‘11th March 1835: The Black-backed Gull was here yesterday, but has not been seen to-day; nor do I expect to see him till November.’

[A] “PEGGY OLIVER was remarkable far the zeal and taste she displayed in the domesticating of uncommon animals, as well as in the culture of plants: her expertness in the latter department is noticed and praised by Mr LOUDON in his Gardener’s Magazine. Her funeral was attended by some of the most distinguished naturalists here, and, among others, by your friend Dr MACCULLOCH of Pictou, who happened to be in Edinburgh at the time, and whose friendship I have also the happiness to enjoy.”

“This Gull has often attracted the attention of persons passing the village of Canonmills, by reason of its sweeping along so low or near the ground, and on account of the wide expanse of wing which it thus displays. It is well known to the boys of the village as “NEILL’s Gull,” and has, I am aware, owed its safety more than once to their interference, in informing passing sportsmen of its history. When it first arrives in the autumn, it is in the regular habit of making many circular sweeps around the pond and garden, at a considerable elevation, as if reconnoitring; it then gradually lowers its flight, and gently alights about the centre of the pond. Upon the gardener’s mounting the garden-wall with a fish in his hand, the Gull moves towards the overhanging spray of some large willow-trees, so as to catch what may be thrown to him, before it sinks in the water. There can be no doubt whatever of the identity of the bird. Indeed, he unequivocally shews that he recognises my voice when I call aloud ‘Gull, Gull;’ for whether he be on wing or afloat, he immediately approaches me.

“A few pairs of the Great Black-backed Gull breed at the Bass Rock yearly, and it seems highly probable that my specimen had originally been hatched there. If I may be allowed a conjecture, I would suppose that, after attaining maturity, he for some years resorted to the same spot for the purpose of breeding; but that of late years, having lost his mate or encountered some other disaster, he has extended his migration for that purpose to some very distant locality, which has rendered his return to winter quarters six weeks later than formerly.”

LARUS MARINUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 225.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 813.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 362.

BLACK-BACKED GULL, or COBB, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 308.

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCXLI.

Bill shorter than the head, robust, compressed, higher near the end than at the base. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight at the base, declinate and arched towards the end, the ridge convex, the sides slightly convex, the edges sharp, inflected, arcuate-declinate towards the end, the tip rather obtuse. Nasal groove rather long and narrow; nostril in its fore part, lateral, longitudinal, linear, wider anteriorly, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, the outline of the crura rather concave, as is that of the remaining part of the mandible, a prominent angle being formed at their meeting, the sides nearly flat, the edges sharp and inflected.

Head rather large, oblong, narrowed anteriorly. Neck of moderate length, strong. Body full. Wings long. Feet of moderate length, rather slender; tibia bare below; tarsus somewhat compressed, covered anteriorly with numerous scutella, laterally with angular scales, behind with numerous small oblong scales; hind toe very small and elevated, the fore toes of moderate length, rather slender, the fourth longer than the second, the third longest, all scutellate above, and connected by reticulated entire membranes, the lateral toes margined externally with a narrow membrane. Claws small, slightly arched, depressed, rounded, that of middle toe with an expanded inner margin.

The plumage in general is close, full, elastic, very soft and blended, on the back rather compact. Wings very long, broad, acute, the first quill longest, the second scarcely shorter, the rest of the primaries rather rapidly graduated; secondaries broad and rounded, the inner narrower. Tail of moderate length, even, of twelve rounded feathers.

Bill gamboge-yellow, the lower mandible bright carmine towards the end. Edges of eyelids bright carmine, iris silvery. Feet yellow, claws black. The head, neck, and all the lower parts, pure white; back and wings deep blackish-grey tinged with purple, or dark slate-colour; the rump and tail white, as are the edges of the wing, and a large portion of the extremities of all the quills; the second, third, fourth, and fifth primaries have a broad band of black across their ends, the inner web only of the second being so marked, in some specimens however both webs. The œsophagus is very large, the gizzard small, the intestine four feet long, and about the thickness of a goose quill.

Length to end of tail 29-3/4 inches, to end of wings 31-1/2, to end of claws 29-1/4; extent of wings 67; wing from flexure 20; tail 9; bill along the ridge 2-10/12, along the edge of lower mandible 3-9/12; its depth at the angle 1, at the base 11/12; tarsus 3-2/12; middle toe 2-1/2, its claw 1/2. Weight 3 lb.

The Female is similar to the Male, but considerably less.

The Young when fledged have the bill brownish-black, the iris dark brown, the feet as in the adult. The head and neck are greyish-white, streaked with pale brownish-grey; the upper parts mottled with brownish-black, brownish-grey, and dull white, the rump paler. The primary quills blackish-brown, slightly tipped with brownish-white; the tail-feathers white, with a large brownish-black patch towards the end, larger on the middle feathers, which are also barred towards the base with dusky. The lower parts are greyish-white, the sides and lower tail-coverts obscurely mottled with greyish-brown.

THE SNOWY HERON.

ARDEA CANDIDISSIMA, GMEL.

PLATE CCXLII. MALE.

This beautiful species is a constant resident in Florida and Louisiana, where thousands are seen during winter, and where many remain during the breeding season. It is perhaps of a still more delicate constitution than the Blue Heron, Ardea cœrulea, as no individuals remain in the neighbourhood of Charleston when the winter happens to be rather colder than usual. In its migrations eastward it rarely proceeds farther than Long Island in the State of New York; few are seen in Massachusetts, and none farther to the east. My friend Professor MACCULLOCH never heard of it in Nova Scotia, and I cannot imagine on what authority WILSON stated that it inhabits the sea-coast of North America to the Gulf of St Lawrence. My friend NUTTALL also asserts, without mentioning on what evidence, that, by pursuing an inland course, it reaches its final destination in the wilds of Canada. It has not been observed in any part of the western country; nay, it rarely ascends the Mississippi as high as Memphis, or about two hundred miles from the mouth of the Ohio, and cannot be said to be at all abundant much farther up the great river than Natchez. In fact, the maritime districts furnish its favourite places of resort, and it rarely proceeds farther inland than fifty or sixty miles, not only in the flat portions of the Carolinas, but even in the Middle States, where it prefers the islands along the Atlantic coast.

While I was at Charleston, in March 1831, few had arrived from the Floridas by the 18th of that month, but on the 25th thousands were seen in the marshes and rice fields, all in full plumage. They reach the shores of New Jersey about the first week of May, when they may be seen on all parts of the coast between that district and the Gulf of Mexico. On the Mississippi, they seldom reach the low grounds about Natchez, where they also breed, earlier than the period at which they appear in the Middle States.

While migrating, they fly both by night and by day, in loose flocks of from twenty to a hundred individuals, sometimes arranging themselves in a broad front, then forming lines, and again proceeding in a straggling manner. They keep perfectly silent, and move at a height seldom exceeding a hundred yards. Their flight is light, undetermined as it were, yet well sustained, and performed by regular flappings, as in other birds of the tribe. When they have arrived at their destination, they often go to considerable distances to feed during the day, regularly returning at the approach of night to their roosts on the low trees and bushes bordering the marshes, swamps, and ponds. They are very gentle at this season, and at all periods keep in flocks when not disturbed. At the approach of the breeding season, many spend a great part of the day at their roosting places, perched on the low trees principally growing in the water, when every now and then they utter a rough guttural sort of sigh, raising at the same moment their beautiful crest and loose recurved plumes, curving the neck, and rising on their legs to their full height, as if about to strut on the branches. They act in the same manner while on the ground mating. Then the male, with great ardour, and with the most graceful motions, passes and repasses for several minutes at a time before and around the female, whose actions are similar, although she displays less ardour. When disturbed on such occasions, they rise high in the air, sail about and over the spot in perfect silence, awaiting the departure of the intruder, then sweep along, exhibiting the most singular movements, now and then tumbling over and over like the Tumbler Pigeon, and at length alight on a tree. On the contrary, when you intrude upon them while breeding, they rise silently on wing, alight on the trees near, and remain there until you depart.

The Snowy Herons breed in large communities; and so very social are they, that they do not appear even to attempt to disturb such other birds as are wont to breed among them, the Night Herons, for instance, the Green Herons, or the Boat-tailed Grakles. I have visited some of their breeding grounds, where several hundred pairs were to be seen, and several nests were placed on the branches of the same bush, so low at times that I could easily see into them, although others were situated at a height of ten or fifteen feet. In places where these birds are often disturbed, they breed in taller trees, though rarely on very high ones. In the Floridas I found their nests on low mangroves; but wherever they are placed you find them fronting the water, over which, indeed, these Herons seem fond of placing them. The nest, which is formed of dry sticks, is rather small, and has a shallow cavity. The eggs are three, one inch and five-eighths and a half in length, one and a quarter across, of a broadly elliptical form, and having a plain pale bluish-green colour. In the Middle Districts, the usual time of laying is about the middle of May; in the Carolinas a month sooner; and in the Floridas still earlier, as there, on the 19th of May, I found the young in great numbers walking off their nests on the mangrove branches, and, like those of the Louisiana Heron, which also breeds in the same places, trying to escape by falling into the water below, and swimming in search of hiding-places among the roots and hanging branches. Both sexes incubate. Many of the eggs are destroyed by Crows and Turkey Buzzards, which also devour the young, and many are carried off by men.

The young acquire the full beauty of their plumage in the course of the first spring, when they can no longer be distinguished from the old birds. The legs and feet are at first of a darkish olive, as is the bill, except at the base, where it is lighter, and inclining to yellow. At the approach of autumn, the crest assumes a form, and the feathers of the lower parts of the neck in front become considerably lengthened, the feet acquire a yellow tint, and the legs are marked with black on a yellowish ground; but the flowing feathers of the back do not appear until the approach of spring, when they grow rapidly, become recurved, and remain until the young are hatched, when they fall off.

The Snowy Heron, while in the Carolinas, in the month of April, resorts to the borders of the salt-water marshes, and feeds principally on shrimps. Many individuals which I opened there contained nothing else in their stomach. On the Mississippi, at the time when the shrimps are ascending the stream, these birds are frequently seen standing on floating logs, busily engaged in picking them up; and on such occasions their pure white colour renders them conspicuous and highly pleasing to the eye. At a later period, they feed on small fry, fiddlers, snails, aquatic insects, occasionally small lizards and young frogs. Their motions are generally quick and elegant, and, while pursuing small fishes, they run swiftly through the shallows, throwing up their wings. Twenty or thirty seen at once along the margins of a marsh or a river, while engaged in procuring their food, form a most agreeable sight. In autumn and early spring, they are fond of resorting to the ditches of the rice fields, not unfrequently in company with the Blue Herons. When, on being wounded in the wing one falls into the water, it swims off towards the nearest shore, and runs to hide itself by the side of some log, or towards a tree which if possible it climbs, ascending to its very top. When seized, they peck at you with great spirit, and are capable of inflicting a severe wound.

There is no difference between the sexes as to plumage, but the male is somewhat larger. When in good condition, its flesh is excellent eating, especially in early autumn, when it is generally very fat. Some may be seen for sale in the markets of New Orleans and other southern cities. They return southward from the Middle Districts early in October, but in the Carolinas they remain until the first frosts, when they all depart for the Floridas, where I found them during the whole winter in considerable numbers, associating with the Blue Herons.

ARDEA CANDIDISSIMA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 305.

SNOWY HERON, ARDEA CANDIDISSIMA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 120. pl. 62. fig. 4.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 49.

Adult Male in full spring plumage. Plate CCXLII.

Bill longer than the head, straight, compressed, tapering to a point, the mandibles nearly equal. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight, the ridge broad and slightly convex at the base, narrowed towards the end, a groove from the base to two-thirds of its length, beneath which the sides are convex, the edges thin and sharp, with a slight notch close to the very acute tip. Nostrils basal, linear, longitudinal, with a membrane above and behind. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow and elongated, the dorsal line beyond it ascending and almost straight, the edges sharp and slightly inflected, the tip acuminate.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck very long and slender. Body slender and compressed. Feet very long; tibia elongated, its lower half bare, very slender, covered all round with angular scales, of which the posterior are scutelliform; tarsus elongated, slender, compressed, anteriorly covered with numerous scutella, laterally and behind with angular scales. Toes of moderate length, rather slender, scutellate above, reticularly granulate beneath; third toe much longer than second, which is very little shorter than fourth, the hind toe much shorter but strong. Claws rather small, arched, compressed, acute, that of hind toe much larger, the inner edge of that of the third regularly pectinate.

Space between the bill and eye, and around the latter, bare, as is the lower half of the tibia. Plumage soft and blended. Feathers of the upper and hind part of the head, very long, loose, decurved; of the sides, and especially of the lower part of the neck, also much elongated; of the middle of the back very long, loose, and hanging over the sides and rump, but with their extremities recurved. Wings of moderate length; primaries tapering and rounded, the third longest, the second very little shorter, first and fourth about equal; secondaries broad and rounded, some of the inner as long as the longest primaries, when the wing is closed. Tail very short, small, slightly rounded, of twelve rather weak feathers.

Bill black, the bare space at its base yellow. Iris and edges of eyelids yellow. Tibia and tarsus black, the lower part of the latter behind and the toes bright yellow; claws bluish black. The plumage is pure white.

Length to end of tail 22-1/2 inches, to end of wings 23, to end of claws 30-1/2; extent of wings 38; wing from flexure 10-1/2; tail 3; loose feathers 1-1/2 beyond the tail; bill along the ridge 3-2/12; along the edge of lower mandible 3-3/4; bare part of tibia 2-1/2; tarsus 3-11/12; middle toe 2-1/2, its claw 4/12. Weight 12 oz.

THE AMERICAN SNIPE.

SCOLOPAX WILSONII, TEMM.

PLATE CCXLIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG IN AUTUMN.

The summer range of the Common American Snipe extends northward to a considerable distance beyond the limits of the United States. During the breeding season it is not to be found in our Southern Districts, much less does it breed on the borders of the Mississippi, as has been alleged by some writers. It may indeed sometimes happen that a pair is found during summer in the mountainous districts of the Carolinas; but occurrences of this kind are rare, and are probably caused by one of the birds being disabled, and so prevented from prosecuting its journey farther northward, although not incapacitated for reproduction. Some pairs are more frequently met with in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, either with eggs or with young, but the great body of this species goes farther north for the purpose of breeding. In the State of Maine, they become tolerably abundant at this season, and as you proceed eastward you find them more numerous. In Nova Scotia they are plentiful during summer, and there they breed in all convenient places.

In these northern districts, the Snipe begins to lay its eggs in the early part of June. The swampy parts of the extensive moss-covered marshes in elevated situations afford it places of security and comfort, in which it is not likely to be disturbed by man, and finds immediately around it an abundance of food. The nest itself is a mere hollow in the moss, scantily inlaid with a few grasses. The eggs, which, like those of many of the Tringas, are four, and placed with the small ends together, measure one inch and five-eighths by one and one-eighth, being pyriform, with the tip somewhat inflated. The ground colour is a yellowish-olive, pretty thickly spotted and blotched with light and dark umber, the markings increasing in size as they approach the large end, where they form a circle. The young, like those of the Woodcock, leave the nests as soon as hatched, and so resemble those of the Common Snipe of Europe, Scolopax Gallinago, that the same description answers for both, they being covered with down of different tints of brown and greyish-yellow. The bill is at this age short, very soft and easily bent by the least pressure; nor does it acquire its full growth before winter, and its length differs in different apparently full grown individuals, by half an inch or even three-fourths. They seem to feed at first on minute insects collected on the surface of the mires, or amid the grass and moss; but as they grow older, and the bill becomes firmer and larger, they probe the ground like their parents, and soon become expert at this operation, introducing the bill at every half inch or so of the oozy mire, from which they principally obtain their food. In the Middle States, this Snipe, however, has been found breeding in meadows, as well as in the State of Maine; and it also nestles in the mountainous districts of these parts of the Union. I never had the good fortune to meet with a nest in Pennsylvania, although I have known several instances of a pair breeding not far from Mill Grove on the Perkioming.

In the Western Country this bird arrives from the north early in October, alighting in the low meadows watered by warm springs, and along the borders of ponds and small secluded rivulets, sometimes in the corn fields after a continuance of rainy weather, but never in the woods or any place from which it cannot easily make its escape when approached. In Kentucky it often remains all winter, and is at times very abundant. Farther south, it is more plentiful, especially in the lower parts of Louisiana, where it is named “cache cache” by the Creoles, and over the whole country between that State and the Carolinas. During winter, it is not uncommon in Louisiana to meet with it in flocks of considerable numbers, as is also the case in South Carolina, where the grounds of the rice-planter afford it abundance of food. In some fields well known to my Charleston friends, as winter retreats of the snipe, it is shot in great numbers. At times it is so much less careful about concealing itself than at others, that it is not at all uncommon to see it walking about over its wet feeding-grounds, and on such occasions many are killed. In such places I have found these birds by fifties and hundreds in fields of a few acres. At the first shots, dozens in succession would take to wing, each emitting its cry of wau-aik, after which they would rise in the air, gradually collect, fly round a few times to the distance of some hundred yards, and returning pitch towards the ground, and alight, with the velocity of an arrow, not many yards from the spot where they had previously been. In a few minutes they would all disperse, to seek for food. So much are they at times attached to particular spots, that the sportsmen continue to shoot them until their number is reduced to a few, which having perhaps been several times shot at, become extremely wary, and are left to entice others to join them, so that another day’s sport may be obtained. It is not rare to find some of these birds in the immediate vicinity of Charleston, when they are pursued by the younger gunners, and sometimes by keen sportsmen. I have known eight or ten procured by one person in a short time, between that city and the race-ground, which is scarcely a mile distant. They are also abundant in the wet savannahs in the Floridas, from which they retire a few weeks earlier than from Louisiana and the Carolinas, where some remain until the beginning of April. During the whole of the winter months, these birds are observed to ramble from one place to another, and a field which yesterday contained a good number, has only a few to-day, and to-morrow may be quite deserted. But before the end of a week, there you will find them again, as abundant as at first. They rarely visit salt waters, and never resort to the interior of the woods.

The flight of the Snipe while travelling to some distance, is performed at a considerable elevation, by regular and quickly repeated beats of the wings. Yet they do not appear as if pursuing a direct course, for every now and then they deviate a little to either side. They pass over rapidly, however, and are able to travel to a great distance in a short time. Their migrations, although performed singly, or in small parties of a single family, may be said to be in a manner continuous, as in the course of a few days a whole section of country, in which none had been seen for several months, becomes well supplied with them. When surprised by the sportsman, or any other enemy, they usually rise at one spring, dash through the air in a zig-zag course, a few feet from the ground, emit their cry when about twenty yards distant, and at times continue to employ this cunning mode of escape for sixty or seventy yards, after which they mount into the air, and perform the rounds already described. I have found the instant at which they utter their note of alarm the best for pulling the trigger; but almost every sportsman has his peculiar fancy, and many are glad to kill them the best way they can; for he who shoots thirty snipes in succession, without missing one, is a good hand at any kind of shooting. Sometimes the Snipe will squat with great pertinacity, and even stand a pointer, while at other times it will not suffer either man or dog to approach within fifty yards of it. This, however, depends much on the state of the atmosphere. The finer and warmer the day, the easier I have found it to get near them, and the smaller is the distance at which they realight; whereas during drizzly weather, they fly off to a great distance. When the Snipe alights within sight, and you are concealed and silent, its movements can easily be observed. It first stands for an instant in a half crouching attitude, as if to listen, then raises itself and runs a few steps, when, if it be in any degree apprehensive of danger, it squats, and there remains until put up. If all around is quiet, you see it move in its ordinary manner, walking lightly, and with some grace, its bill half inclined downwards, in search of a good spot to probe for food. The instant it meets with this it sets to work, and thrusts its bill into the mud or the damp soil, to a depth determined by the degree of softness of the ground, repeating its thrusts eight, ten, or more times in quick succession. When it has thus examined a spot, and perhaps found some food, it walks off in search of another, and thus continues until it is satisfied, when it generally lays itself down in a soft tuft of grass until the approach of night, when it flies off and rambles about for exercise in comparative security. When wounded, it runs with moderate speed, but, if closely pursued, squats whenever a good opportunity occurs. It will at times continue to run for fifty or more yards, after which, if you have not a good dog, it is next to impossible to find it, for on such occasions it remains perfectly silent. While travelling eastward from Charleston, in the month of March, I found this Snipe perhaps more abundant near the Great Santee River than any where else. We could see them with ease from the carriage as they were walking over the rice-fields, as if in perfect assurance of security.

The food of our Common Snipe consists principally of ground worms, insects, and the juicy slender roots of different vegetables, all of which tend to give its flesh that richness of flavour and juicy tenderness, for which it is so deservedly renowned, it being equal to that of the woodcock. Many epicures eat up both Snipe and Woodcock with all their viscera, worms and insects to boot, the intestines in fact being considered the most savoury parts. On opening some newly killed Snipes, I have more than once found fine large and well-fed ground worms, and at times a leech, which I must acknowledge I never conceived suitable articles of food for man, and, for this reason, I have always taken good care to have both Snipes and Woodcocks well cleaned, as all game ought to be.

To WILSON is due the merit of having first shewn the difference between this bird and the Common Snipe of Europe; and it is honourable for the ornithologists of that region of the globe to have dedicated our species to so zealous and successful a student of nature. I have, however, been surprised that he should not have mentioned the difference in the notes of the two species, which in fact is as great as that between those of the American Crow and the Carrion Crow of Europe. A decided difference of this kind I am always disposed to consider as satisfactory in the case of nearly allied species. While glancing over some of the numberless compilations that are pouring their muddy waters into the great stream of human knowledge, I was somewhat surprised to find in one of them an account of the American Snipe, in which it is stated that it is a winter visitant in the northern States, and will most probably breed farther south, without leaving the country!

The American Snipe is easily caught in snares placed on the spots of mud which it is wont to probe, and a good number are thus obtained by the farmers’ children, especially during very cold weather, when, the birds having become emaciated from want of a good supply of food, they resort to the small warm springs of our meadows, and there remain until the return of milder weather. At such times and places, I have heard this bird utter various curious notes, which I am unable to describe, putting themselves into strange postures all the while, jerking their tails upwards, downwards, and sideways, for several seconds at a time, while the head and neck were moved backwards and forwards, as if the bird had been in a fit. I never saw this during warm weather, and am unable to account for it.

It arrives in Pennsylvania from the south about the middle of March, earlier or later according to the nature of the season, a month later in Maine, and about a week or ten days after in Nova Scotia. We neither saw nor heard of any in Newfoundland or Labrador, but they are abundant in the interior of the northern parts of the Canadas.

The young acquire the full plumage of the adult the first year after their birth, when no essential difference is perceptible between the sexes, the female being merely somewhat larger than the male. My friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH, who has not unfrequently found this bird breeding, and from whom I have received many of its eggs, was unable to say whether both sexes incubate, although this is very probable, as the male is often seen with or near the female while she is sitting, excepting towards evening or in the early part of the morning, when he mounts into the air, as if for the purpose of congratulating her by his curious song. It often happens that before these birds depart in spring, many are already mated. The birds are then met with in meadows or on low grounds, and, by being on the spot before sunrise, you may see both mount high in the air in a spiral manner, now with continuous beats of the wings, now in short sailings, until more than a hundred yards high, when they whirl round each other with extreme velocity, and dance as it were to their own music; for at this juncture, and during the space of five or six minutes, you hear rolling notes mingling together, each more or less distinct, perhaps according to the state of the atmosphere. The sounds produced are extremely pleasing, though they fall faintly on the ear. I know not how to describe them, but I am well assured that they are not produced simply by the beatings of the wings, as at this time the wings are not flapped, but are used in sailing swiftly in a circle not many feet in diameter. A person might cause a sound somewhat similar by blowing rapidly and alternately from one end to another, across a set of small pipes consisting of two or three modulations. This performance is kept up until incubation terminates, but I never observed it at any other period. Our Woodcock produces a somewhat similar sound at the same season, and also at times on fine autumnal evenings, as I shall mention more particularly when describing that bird.

In confinement, our Common Snipe feeds freely on moistened Indian corn meal, mixed with some insects, but rarely becomes as gentle as the Woodcock in similar circumstances. When approached, it droops its wings and runs round its place of confinement, even should it be a small room, keeping its tail spread out on the side next you. If the bird is confined in a small space in front of you, it alternately throws the tail upwards, and spreads it in the manner mentioned at every successive turn to and from each corner. Sometimes it emits a lisping sound, but is more usually silent.

SCOLOPAX WILSONII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 330.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 401.

SNIPE, SCOLOPAX GALLINAGO, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 18. pl. 47. fig. 1.

WILSON’S SNIPE, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 185.

Adult Male. Plate CCXLIII. Fig. 1.

Bill twice as long as the head, subulate, straight, compressed for more than half its length, depressed towards the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, the ridge for a short space at the base flattish, then convex, towards the end flattened, the sides with a narrow groove extending to near the tip, which is obtuse and probe-like, the edges soft and obtuse. Nostrils basal, linear, very small. Lower mandible with the angle extremely long and narrow, the sides nearly erect, with a groove having several bars across it; the end of both mandibles covered, after death, with numerous prominences, or rather with reticular depressions, leaving small prominences between them.

Head rather small, oblong, narrowed anteriorly, the forehead elevated and rounded. Neck rather short. Body rather full. Legs of moderate length, slender; tibia bare below, scutellate before and behind; tarsus with numerous scutella before, smaller ones behind, and reticulated sides; toes very slender, free, scutellate above, narrow and slightly margined beneath; first very small, third longer than the tarsus, fourth much shorter, but considerably longer than second. Claws slightly arched, extremely compressed, very acute, that of the third toe largest.

Plumage very soft, rather full, blended, on the fore part of the head very short. Wings of moderate length, narrow, sharp; primaries broad, tapering, but rounded, the first extremely small and pointed, the second longest, the third very little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries broad, short, incurved, rounded, the inner very long, tapering, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers.

Bill brown, the granulated part towards the tip black. Iris hazel. Feet bluish-grey, claws dusky. On the upper part of the head two brownish-black longitudinal broad bands, separated by a narrower central pale brown one, and with another pale brown band on each side from the bill over the eye; then a loral band of dark brown; chin whitish; neck pale reddish-brown, spotted with brownish-black. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-black, variegated with pale reddish-brown, of which latter colour are the outer edges of the scapulars and of the lateral feathers on the anterior part of the back. Wing-coverts and inner secondaries similarly mottled, the smaller anterior coverts, the primary coverts, primary quills, and outer secondaries deep brown, more or less tipped with white; first quill white, dusky in the centre, second with the outer edge brownish-white; rump barred with yellowish-grey and dusky; upper tail-coverts similar, but the larger barred with brownish-red and black. Tail-feathers brownish-black at the base, with a broad subterminal band of brownish-red on the outer web of the two middle, and on both webs of the rest, excepting the outer on each side, which is barred with brownish-black and white, the black bars five; the tips of all white. Anterior part of breast like the neck, the rest white; abdomen and lower tail-coverts greyish-yellow, barred with brownish-black, as are the sides; scapulars white, barred with greyish-black; lower wing-coverts similarly mottled.

Length to end of tail 10-1/2 inches, to end of claw 11-1/2; extent of wings 17; wing from flexure 5; tail 2-1/4; bill along the back 2-7/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-5/12; tarsus 1-2/12, middle toe 1-1/4, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 3 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXLIII. Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the Male, but is rather larger.

Autumnal plumage, Plate CCXLIII. Fig. 3.

The young in autumn resemble the old birds, but have the dark markings of a browner tint, the light more dingy, and the colours in general less pure.

THE COMMON GALLINULE.

GALLINULA CHLOROPUS, LATH.

PLATE CCXLIV. MALE.

The two species of Gallinule which occur in the United States are confined within a comparatively small range in that extensive country, the southern portions of which appear to suit them better, at all seasons of the year, than the other districts. The Common Gallinule is extremely abundant during winter along the rivers, fresh-water creeks, lagoons, ponds and lakes, between the Gulf of Mexico and the eastern shores of the Floridas, while in spring and summer a good number migrate eastward into the Carolinas, and now and then a few stragglers may be seen on the fresh waters of the Middle Districts, beyond which none, to my knowledge, have ever been observed. They seldom ascend any of our southern streams to any considerable distance, few are ever met with many miles above Natchez on the Mississippi, and none are to be seen in the Western Country.

In general they are equally diurnal and nocturnal in their habits, and when undisturbed frequent the land as much as the water. In the lower parts of Louisiana and the Floridas, I have seen them seek their food and amuse themselves by day in the pastures and fields, and I have observed both them and the Gallinules of England enacting their courtship, while the sun was yet high above the horizon. In sight of man, however, they are timorous although not shy, and retreat from him among the grass and sedges bordering the water, to which they resort for safety. If shot at, or otherwise frightened, they run with speed, and either fly or swim off as fast as possible, to elude their enemy.

During my various temporary residences in London, I have often seen the Gallinules resort to the grounds in the Regent’s Park at all hours of the day. They were there in a manner partially domesticated, and walked quite unconcernedly in the meadows, led their young over the water, and paid their addresses to each other, while fifty or more persons were amusing themselves with feeding the ducks and swans over the bridge leading to the inner circle, and within sight of these birds. While I was at Spring-Garden Spring in East Florida, in the early part of January, the Gallinules were seen in great numbers on every bayou leading towards the waters of the St John, and at that early period the manifestations of their amatory propensity were quite remarkable. The male birds courted the females, both on the land and on the water; they frequently spread out their tail like a fan, and moved round each other, emitting a murmuring sound for some seconds. The female would afterwards walk to the water’s edge, stand in the water up to her breast, and receive the caresses of the male, who immediately after would strut on the water before her, jerking with rapidity his spread tail for a while, after which they would both resume their ordinary occupations. This was in the middle of the day, when I could have counted eight or ten pairs in sight.

The nest is formed with more labour than art, being composed of a quantity of withered rushes and plants, interwoven in a circular form, frequently from two to three inches thick in the centre, surrounded by an edge or brim four or five inches high. If not greatly disturbed, these birds raise several broods in a season, using the same nest, and making additions to it previous to depositing each new set of eggs. In Lower Louisiana I found it usually five or six feet from the water, among the rankest weeds, along the bayous and lakes, which are so numerous there. In some instances it was placed on a prostrate trunk of a tree over the water, when the materials of which it was composed were less abundant than in other circumstances. I never saw one floating loose, but have often heard people say they had occasionally seen a nest in that state, although I am not much disposed to give credit to such assertions. The number of eggs seldom exceeds eight or nine, and is more frequently from five to seven. As the bird lays more than once, its progeny is thus numerous. The Gallinules cover their eggs when they leave them, no doubt to protect them from crows and other enemies, but return to them as soon as food has been procured, although both sexes incubate. The eggs measure an inch and five-eighths, by an inch and one and a half eighths, and are of a dull darkish cream colour, spotted and dotted with various tints of reddish-brown and umber.

The females are as assiduous in their attentions to their young as the wild Turkey Hens; and, although the young take to the water as soon as hatched, the mother frequently calls them ashore, when she nurses and dries them under her body and wings. In this manner she looks after them until they are nearly a month old, when she abandons them and begins to breed again. The young, which are covered with hairy, shining, black down, swim beautifully, jerking their heads forward at each movement of their feet. They seem to grow surprisingly fast, and at the age of six or seven weeks are strong, active, and perhaps as well able to elude their enemies as the old birds are. Their food consists of grasses, seeds, water-insects, worms, and snails, along with which they swallow a good deal of sand or gravel. They walk and run over the broad leaves of water-lilies, as if on land, dive if necessary, and appear at times to descend into the water in search of food, although I cannot positively assert that they do so.

On more than one occasion, I have seen a flock of these young birds playing on the surface of the water like Ducks, beating it with their wings, and splashing it about in a curious manner, when their gambols would attract a garfish, which at a single dart would seize one of them and disappear. The rest affrighted would run as it were with inconceivable velocity on the surface of the water, make for the shore, and there lie concealed and silent for a quarter of an hour or so. In the streams and ponds of the Floridas, this species and some others of similar habits, suffer greatly from Alligators and Turtles, as well as from various kinds of fish, although, on account of their prolific nature, they are yet abundant.

This Gallinule seldom resorts to salt water, but at times is met with on the banks of bayous in which the water is brackish. This, however, happens only during winter. On land it walks somewhat like a chicken, and thirty, forty, or more individuals may be seen searching for worms and insects among the grass, which they also nip in the manner of the domestic fowl. On such occasions, the constantly repeated movements of their tail are rendered conspicuous by the pure white of the feathers beneath it, which, along with the white stripes on the flanks, and in spring the vivid red of the frontal plate, renders their general appearance quite interesting. In cases of danger, they run with great speed, and easily conceal themselves. On the water they sit very lightly, and swim with activity, the movements of their head and neck keeping pace with those of their feet. They pick up their food from either side, continually jerk their tail, and not unfrequently touch the water with it.

Although not a migratory bird, this species flies very well, whenever it has occasion to rise from the ground. Its wings, although concave, are large for its size, more so in fact than those of Rallus crepitans, which migrates to a considerable extent. But in general, the Gallinules are averse from flying, unless when anxious to remove from one lake or stream to another, when they rise fifty or sixty feet in the air, and fly with ease and considerable velocity, by continued flappings, the neck and legs stretched out. At all other times when raised, they suffer their legs to dangle, proceed slowly to a short distance, and drop among the reeds, or, if over the water, they dive and hide, leaving nothing but the bill projecting above the surface.

The young in autumn have not attained their full size; their colours are much duller than those of the old birds, particularly the stripes on the flanks and under the tail, which are of a dull cream colour instead of being pure white. The frontal plate is small, and almost covered by the feathers around it; the legs and feet are of a dingy green, and the red band on the tibia is scarcely apparent. In spring they acquire their full plumage, but the frontal plate increases in size for several years.

There are great differences as to size between birds of both sexes. The male from which I drew the figure in the plate, was of an average size, having been selected from a bagful procured expressly for the purpose. Our Gallinule corresponds so precisely with that of Europe, that I cannot hesitate in affirming that it is the same species.

GALLINULA CHLOROPUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 770.

GALLINULA GALEATA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 128. pl. 27. fig. 1.

FLORIDA GALLINULE, GALLINULA GALEATA, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 223.

Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCXLIV.

Bill shorter than the head, nearly straight, rather stout, deep, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with a soft oblong plate at the base extending over the forehead, the dorsal line beyond this plate straightish and slightly declinate as far as the middle, then arcuato-declinate, the ridge rather narrow, the sides nearly perpendicular, towards the end slightly convex, the edges sharp, with a notch close upon the narrow obtuse tip. Nasal groove extending to the middle of the bill, rather broad; nostrils submedial, lateral, linear, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, the sides nearly erect, with a groove to the middle, the dorsal line beyond the angle ascending, straight, the edges sharp, inclinate, the tip narrowed, rather sharp.

Head small, oblong, much compressed. Neck of moderate length, slender. Body much compressed. Feet large, long; tibia bare a considerable way above the joint; tarsus rather long, strong, compressed, anteriorly covered with broad scutella, laterally with angular scales, posteriorly with minute scales; hind toe comparatively small, middle toe longest and much longer than the tarsus, fourth considerably shorter, and but little longer than the second; toes free, slender, compressed, scutellate above, flat beneath and marginate; claws rather long, slender, much compressed, acute.

Plumage soft, blended, on the fore part of the head short; a tuft of elongated incurved feathers on the sides. Wings short, broad; alula large; primaries curved, broad, second and third longest, first and sixth about equal; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail short, much rounded, of twelve rather weak rounded feathers, which but slightly exceed the upper and lower coverts.

Frontal plate and bill deep carmine, the ends of both mandibles yellow. Iris bright red. Feet yellowish-green, a portion of the bare part of the tibia carmine; claws dusky. Head and neck deep bluish-grey; that colour continues paler over the breast, sides and abdomen, the latter having the feathers tipped with greyish white, and the posterior hypochondrial feathers having a longitudinal band of white towards the end; lower eyelid white, as are the lateral lower tail-coverts, those in the middle black. The back and wings are deep olive, the latter having a narrow edging of white, which also runs along the outer quill. Tail brownish-black.

Length to end of tail 14 inches, to end of claws 19; extent of wings 22; wing from flexure 7-1/4; tail 3; bill from base of frontal plate 1-11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-1/4; tarsus 2-1/4, middle toe 2-7/12, its claw 8/12. Weight 12 oz.

The Female is similar to the male, but has the frontal plate smaller.

The Young, when fledged, have the upper part of the head of an olivaceous brown, like the back and wings, the neck of a light dull grey, the chin dull white, the lower parts light grey tinged with yellowish on the breast, most of the feathers tipped with whitish, the lines on the hypochondrial feathers of a dull cream colour and of small extent. The frontal plate is small, and with the bill of a dingy greenish colour, as are the feet, the claws yellowish-brown.

On comparing together a great number of European and American specimens, I can find no specific differences. Individuals of either kind are larger or smaller, their frontal plates differ in size and somewhat in form, as do the bill and the claws; but if the species are really different, Nature has made them so wonderfully like each other, that there seems to me no possibility of distinguishing them.

My friend Dr NEILL has furnished me with the following anecdotes illustrative of the habits of this bird. “At Canonmills Loch, near Edinburgh, a pair (or sometimes two pairs) of water-hens breed yearly, making their nest on the branches of some very large saughs (willow-trees, Salix russeliana) growing in my garden, and overhanging the pond. One season (four or five years ago) finding themselves persecuted by a tame heron, which watched and devoured their first young brood (for we detected him in the act), they formed their next nest more than fifteen feet high on the trunk of the willow-tree. There the eggs were hatched in safety, four or five young being in due time seen sailing about with the old birds. We had only one pair on the Loch last summer. How they descended to the water can only be conjectured: they might have crept downwards three or four feet, but they must at all events have fallen at once from a height of not less than twelve feet. When the pond is frozen over and covered with skaters, the water-hens enter the garden and conceal themselves in an overgrown rock-work, subsisting on minced flesh mixed with bread or potatoes, purposely laid down for them, and on which I have often watched them feasting when the snow was lying deep.”

THE LARGE-BILLED GUILLEMOT.

URIA BRUNNICHII, SABINE.

PLATE CCXLV. ADULT MALE.

I have never observed this bird on any part of the coast of our Middle Districts, and, although I was told that it not unfrequently occurred about the Bay of Boston, I failed in my endeavours to procure it there. The specimen from which my figure was made was sent to me in ice, along with several other rare birds, from Eastport in Maine. I received it quite fresh and in excellent plumage, on the 18th of February 1833. It had been shot along with several other individuals of the same species while searching for food in the waters of Pasmaquody Bay, which were then covered with broken ice. Its flight was described by Mr CURTIS, who sent it to me, as similar to that of the Foolish Guillemot, with which it associated. No other information was transmitted, excepting that it dived and swam like the other species. I afterwards sent the skin to my friend JOHN BACHMAN, in whose collection it remains.

No individuals of this species were observed by my party on our way to Labrador; and as the Foolish Guillemot was abundant on the coast of that country, I concluded that the Thick-billed Guillemots which visit our eastern seas in winter, set out for the far north at an earlier period than the others. I am indebted to Mr HEWITSON of Newcastle, author of the “British Oology,” for a description of an egg of this bird, which is in the valuable collection of the Messrs HANCOCKS, who procured it from Greenland. It measures 3-1/8 inches in length, by 2-1/8 at its broadest part, and is of a bluish-green colour, streaked and spotted with black or very dark umber.

URIA BRUNNICHII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 424.

URIA BRUNNICHII, BRUNNICH’S GUILLEMOT, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 477.

LARGE-BILLED GUILLEMOT, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 529.

Adult Male in winter. Plate CCXLV.

Bill shorter than the head, stout, tapering, compressed, acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly curved, the ridge narrow, broader at the base, the sides sloping, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip a little decurved, with a slight notch. Nasal groove broad, feathered; nostrils at its lower edge, subbasal, lateral, longitudinal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle medial, narrow, the dorsal line sloping upwards and straight, the back very narrow, the sides nearly flat, the edges sharp and inflected.

Head large, oblong, depressed, narrowed before. Eyes of moderate size. Neck short and thick. Body stout, rather depressed. Wings small. Feet short, placed far behind; the greater part of the tibia concealed, its lower portion bare; tarsus short, stout, compressed, anteriorly sharp, and covered with a double row of scutella, the sides with angular scales; toes of moderate length, the first wanting, the third longest, the fourth longer than the second, all covered above with numerous scutella, webbed, the lateral ones with small margins; claws small, slightly arched, compressed, rather acute, that of the middle toe largest, with a dilated inner edge.

Plumage dense, very soft, blended; on the head very short. Wings rather short, narrow, acute; primary quills curved, tapering, the second longest, the first slightly shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries short, incurved, broad, rounded. Tail very short, rounded, of twelve narrow feathers.

Bill black. Iris dark brown. Feet dusky, tinged with red. The general colour of the plumage is greyish-black on the upper parts, those of the head tinged with brown. The sides of the head and neck, its fore part, the breast, abdomen, edges of the wings and the tips of the secondaries, white; the sides shaded with greyish-black; a line of the same behind the eye.

Length to end of tail 18-1/2 inches, to end of claws 21-1/2; extent of wings 30; wing from flexure 8, tail 2-1/2; bill along the ridge 1-2/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2; tarsus 1-4/12; middle toe 1-8/12, its claw 5/12. Weight 2-1/4 lb.

PITTING OF WOLVES.

There seems to be a universal feeling of hostility among men against the Wolf, whose strength, agility, and cunning, which latter is scarcely inferior to that of his relative master Reynard, tend to render him an object of hatred, especially to the husbandman, on whose flocks he is ever apt to commit depredations. In America, where this animal was formerly abundant, and in many parts of which it still occurs in considerable numbers, it is not more mercifully dealt with than in other parts of the world. Traps and snares of all sorts are set for catching it, while dogs and horses are trained for hunting the Fox. The Wolf, however, unless in some way injured, being more powerful and perhaps better winded than the Fox, is rarely pursued with hounds or any other dogs in open chase; but as his depredations are at times extensive and highly injurious to the farmer, the greatest exertions have been used to exterminate his race. Few instances have occurred among us of any attack made by Wolves on man, and only one has come under my own notice.

Two young Negroes who resided near the banks of the Ohio, in the lower part of the State of Kentucky, about twenty-three years ago, had sweethearts living on a plantation ten miles distant. After the labours of the day were over, they frequently visited the fair ladies of their choice, the nearest way to whose dwelling lay directly across a great cane brake. As to the lover every moment is precious, they usually took this route, to save time. Winter had commenced, cold, dark, and forbidding, and after sunset scarcely a glimpse of light or glow of warmth, one might imagine, could be found in that dreary swamp, excepting in the eyes and bosoms of the ardent youths, or the hungry Wolves that prowled about. The snow covered the earth, and rendered them more easy to be scented from a distance by the famished beasts. Prudent in a certain degree, the young lovers carried their axes on their shoulders, and walked as briskly as the narrow path would allow. Some transient glimpses of light now and then met their eyes, but so faint were they that they believed them to be caused by their faces coming in contact with the slender reeds covered with snow. Suddenly, however, a long and frightful howl burst upon them, and they instantly knew that it proceeded from a troop of hungry, perhaps desperate Wolves. They stopped, and putting themselves in an attitude of defence, awaited the result. All around was dark, save a few feet of snow, and the silence of night was dismal. Nothing could be done to better their situation, and after standing a few minutes in expectation of an attack, they judged it best to resume their march; but no sooner had they replaced their axes on their shoulders, and begun to move, than the foremost found himself assailed by several foes. His legs were held fast as if pressed by a powerful screw, and the torture inflicted by the fangs of the ravenous animal was for a moment excruciating. Several Wolves in the mean time sprung upon the breast of the other Negro, and dragged him to the ground. Both struggled manfully against their foes; but in a short time one of them ceased to move, and the other, reduced in strength, and perhaps despairing of maintaining his ground, still more of aiding his unfortunate companion, sprung to the branch of a tree, and speedily gained a place of safety near the top. The next morning, the mangled remains of his comrade lay scattered around on the snow, which was stained with blood. Three dead Wolves lay around, but the rest of the pack had disappeared, and Scipio, sliding to the ground, took up the axes, and made the best of his way home, to relate the sad adventure.

About two years after this occurrence, as I was travelling between Henderson and Vincennes, I chanced to stop for the night at a farmer’s house by the side of the road. After putting up my horse and refreshing myself, I entered into conversation with mine host, who asked if I should like to pay a visit to the wolf-pits, which were about half a mile distant. Glad of the opportunity I accompanied him across the fields to the neighbourhood of a deep wood, and soon saw the engines of destruction. He had three pits, within a few hundred yards of each other. They were about eight feet deep, and broader at bottom, so as to render it impossible for the most active animal to escape from them. The aperture was covered with a revolving platform of twigs, attached to a central axis. On either surface of the platform was fastened a large piece of putrid venison, with other matters by no means pleasant to my olfactory nerves, although no doubt attractive to the Wolves. My companion wished to visit them that evening, merely as he was in the habit of doing so daily, for the purpose of seeing that all was right. He said that Wolves were very abundant that autumn, and had killed nearly the whole of his sheep and one of his colts, but that he was now “paying them off in full;” and added that if I would tarry a few hours with him next morning, he would beyond a doubt shew me some sport rarely seen in those parts. We retired to rest in due time, and were up with the dawn.

“I think,” said my host, “that all’s right, for I see the dogs are anxious to get away to the pits, and although they are nothing but curs, their noses are none the worse for that.” As he took up his gun, an axe and a large knife, the dogs began to howl and bark, and whisked around us, as if full of joy. When we reached the first pit, we found the bait all gone, and the platform much injured; but the animal that had been entrapped had scraped a subterranean passage for himself and so escaped. On peeping into the next, he assured me that “three famous fellows were safe enough” in it. I also peeped in and saw the Wolves, two black, and the other brindled, all of goodly size, sure enough. They lay flat on the earth, their ears laid close over the head, their eyes indicating fear more than anger. “But how are we to get them out?”—“How Sir,” said the farmer, “why by going down to be sure, and ham-stringing them.” Being a novice in these matters, I begged to be merely a looker-on. “With all my heart,” quoth the farmer, “stand here, and look at me through the brush.” Whereupon he glided down, taking with him his axe and knife, and leaving his rifle to my care. I was not a little surprised to see the cowardice of the Wolves. He pulled out successively their hind legs, and with a side stroke of the knife cut the principal tendon above the joint, exhibiting as little fear as if he had been marking lambs.

“Lo!” exclaimed the farmer, when he had got out, “we have forgot the rope; I’ll go after it.” Off he went accordingly, with as much alacrity as any youngster could shew. In a short time he returned out of breath, and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand—“Now for it.” I was desired to raise and hold the platform on its central balance, whilst he, with all the dexterity of an Indian, threw a noose over the neck of one of the Wolves. We hauled it up motionless with fright, as if dead, its disabled legs swinging to and fro, its jaws wide open, and the gurgle in its throat alone indicating that it was alive. Letting him drop on the ground, the farmer loosened the rope by means of a stick, and left him to the dogs, all of which set upon him with great fury and soon worried him to death. The second was dealt with in the same manner; but the third, which was probably the oldest, as it was the blackest, shewed some spirit, the moment it was left loose to the mercy of the curs. This Wolf, which we afterwards found to be a female, scuffled along on its fore legs at a surprising rate, giving a snap every now and then to the nearest dog, which went off howling dismally with a mouthful of skin torn from its side. And so well did the furious beast defend itself, that apprehensive of its escape, the farmer levelled his rifle at it, and shot it through the heart, on which the curs rushed upon it, and satiated their vengeance on the destroyer of their master’s flock.

THE EIDER DUCK.

FULIGULA MOLLISSIMA, BONAP.

PLATE CCXLVI. MALE AND FEMALE.

The history of this remarkable duck must ever be looked upon with great interest by the student of nature. The depressed form of its body, the singular shape of its bill, the beautiful colouring of its plumage, the value of its down as an article of commerce, and the nature of its haunts, render it a very remarkable species. Considering it as such, I shall endeavour to lay before you as full an account of it as I have been able to obtain from my own observation.

The fact that the Eider Duck breeds on our eastern coasts, must be interesting to the American Ornithologist, whose fauna possesses but few birds of this family that do so. The Fuligulæ are distinguished from all other ducks that feed in fresh or salt water, by the comparative shortness of the neck, the greater expansion of their feet, the more depressed form of their body, and their power of diving to a considerable depth, in order to reach the beds on which their favourite shelly food abounds. Their flight, too, differs from that of the true ducks, inasmuch as it is performed nearer the surface of the water. Rarely, indeed, do the Fuligulæ fly at any considerable height over that element, and with the exception of three species, they are rarely met with inland, unless when driven thither by storms. They differ, moreover, in their propensity to breed in communities, and often at a very small distance from each other. Lastly, they are in general more ready to abandon their females, the moment incubation has commenced. Thus the female is left in a state of double responsibility, which she meets, however, with a courage equal to the occasion, although alone and unprotected.

The Eider is now seldom seen farther south along our eastern coast than the vicinity of New York. WILSON says they are occasionally observed as far as the Capes of Delaware; but at the present day this must be an extremely rare occurrence, for the fishermen of the Jerseys informed me that they knew nothing of this duck. In WILSON’s time, however, it bred in considerable numbers, from Boston to the Bay of Fundy, and it is still to be met with on the rocky shores and islands between these points. Farther to the eastward they become more and more plentiful, until you reach Labrador, to which thousands of pairs annually resort, to breed and spend the short summer. Many, however, proceed much farther north; but, as usual, I will here confine myself to my own observations.

In the latter part of October 1832, the Eiders were seen in considerable numbers in the Bay of Boston. A large bagful of them was brought to me by a fisherman-gunner in my employ, a person advanced in years, formerly a brave tar, and one whom I feel some pride in telling you I assisted in obtaining a small pension from our government, being supported in my application by two of my Boston friends, the one the generous GEORGE PARKMAN, M. D., the other that great statesman JOHN QUINCEY ADAMS. The old man had once served under my father, and to receive a bagful of Eider Ducks from him was a gratification which you may more easily conceive than I can describe. Well, there were the ducks, all turned out on the floor; young males still resembling their mother, others of more advanced age, and several males and females complete in all their parts, only that the bills of the former had lost the orange tint, which that part exhibits during a few weeks of the breeding season. Twenty-one there were in all, and they had been killed in a single day by the veteran and his son. Those masterly gunners told me, that to procure this species, they were in the habit of anchoring their small vessel about fifty yards off the rocky isles round which these birds harbour and feed at this season. There, while the birds were passing on wing, although usually in long lines, they could now and then kill two of them at a shot. Sometimes the King Eider was also procured under similar circumstances, as the two species are wont to associate together during winter. At Boston the Eiders sold that winter at from fifty to seventy-five cents the pair, and they are much sought after by Epicures.

On the 31st of May 1833, my son and party killed six Eiders on the island of Grand Manan, off the Bay of Fundy, where the birds were seen in considerable numbers, and were just beginning to breed. A nest containing two eggs, but not a particle of down, was found at a distance of more than fifty yards from the water.

Immediately after landing on the coast of Labrador, on the 18th of June in the same year, we saw a great number of “Sea Ducks,” as the gunners and fishermen on that coast, as well as on our own, call the Eiders and some other species. On visiting an island in “Partridge Bay,” we procured several females. The birds there paid little attention to us, and some allowed us to approach within a few feet before they left their nests, which were so numerous that a small boat-load might have been collected, had the party been inclined. They were all placed amid the short grass growing in the fissures of the rock, and therefore in rows, as it were. The eggs were generally five or six, in several instances eight, and in one ten. Not a male bird was to be seen. At the first discharge of the guns, all the sitting birds flew off and alighted in the sea, at a distance of about a hundred yards. They then collected, splashed up the water, and washed themselves, until the boat left the place. Many of the nests were unprovided with down; some had more or less than others, and some, from which the female was absent when the party landed, were quite covered with it, and the eggs felt warm to the hand. The musquitoes and flies were there as abundant and as tormenting as in any of the Florida swamps.

On the 24th of the same month, two male Eiders, much advanced in the moult, were shot out of a flock all composed of individuals of the same sex. While rambling over the moss-covered shores of a small pond, on the 7th of July, we saw two females with their young on the water. As we approached the edges, the old birds lowered their heads and swam off with those parts lying flat on the surface, while the young followed so close as almost to touch them. On firing at them without shot, they all dived at once, but rose again in a moment, the mothers quacking and murmuring. The young dived again, and we saw no more of them; the old birds took to wing, and, flying over the hills, made for the sea, from which we were fully a mile distant. How their young were to reach it was at that time to me a riddle; but was afterwards rendered intelligible, as you will see in the sequel. On the 9th of July, while taking an evening walk, I saw flocks of female Eiders without broods. They were in deep moult, kept close to the shore in a bay, and were probably sterile birds. On my way back to the vessel, the captain and I started a female from a broad flat rock, more than a hundred yards from the water, and, on reaching the spot, we found her nest, which was placed on the bare surface, without a blade of grass within five yards of it. It was of the usual bulky construction, and contained five eggs, deeply buried in down. She flew round us until we retired, when we had the pleasure to see her alight, walk to her nest, and compose herself upon it.

Large flocks of males kept apart, and frequented the distant sea islands at this period, when scarcely any were able to fly to any distance, although they swam about from one island to another with great ease. Before their moulting had commenced, or fully a month earlier, these male birds, we observed, flew in long lines from place to place around the outermost islands every morning and evening, thus securing themselves from their enemies, and roosted in numbers close together on some particular rock difficult to be approached by boats, where they remained during the short night. By the 1st of August scarcely an Eider Duck was to be seen on the coast of Labrador. The young were then able to fly, the old birds had nearly completed their moult, and all were moving southward.

Having now afforded you some idea of the migrations and general habits of this interesting bird from spring to the close of the short summer of the desolate regions of Labrador, I proceed, with my journals before me, and my memory refreshed by reading my notes, to furnish you with such details as may perhaps induce you to study its habits in other parts of the world.

The Eider Duck generally arrives on the coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador about the 1st of May, nearly a fortnight before the waters of the Gulf of St Lawrence are freed from ice. None are seen there during winter, and their first appearance is looked upon with pleasure by the few residents as an assurance of the commencement of the summer season. At this period they are seen passing in long files not many feet above the ice or the surface of the water, along the main shores, and around the inner bays or islands, as if in search of the places where they had formerly nestled, or where they had been hatched. All the birds appear to be paired, and in perfect plumage. After a few days, during which they rest themselves on the shores fronting the south, most of them remove to the islands that border the coast, at distances varying from half a mile to five or six miles. The rest seek for places in which to form their nests, along the craggy shores, or by the borders of the stunted fir woods not far from the water, a few proceeding as far as about a mile into the interior. They are now seen only in pairs, and they soon form their nests. I have never had an opportunity of observing their courtships, nor have I received any account of them worthy of particular notice.

In Labrador, the Eider Ducks begin to form their nests about the last week of May. Some resort to islands scantily furnished with grass, near the tufts of which they construct their nests; others form them beneath the spreading boughs of the stunted firs, and in such places, five, six, or even eight are sometimes found beneath a single bush. Many are placed on the sheltered shelvings of rocks a few feet above high-water mark, but none at any considerable elevation, at least none of my party, including the sailors, found any in such a position. The nest, which is sunk as much as possible into the ground, is formed of sea-weeds, mosses, and dried twigs, so matted and interlaced as to give an appearance of neatness to the central cavity, which rarely exceeds seven inches in diameter. In the beginning of June the eggs are deposited, the male attending upon the female the whole time. The eggs, which are regularly placed on the moss and weeds of the nest, without any down, are generally from five to seven, three inches in length, two inches and one eighth in breadth, being thus much larger than those of the domestic Duck, of a regular oval form, smooth-shelled, and of a uniform pale olive green. I may here mention, by the way, that they afford delicious eating. I have not been able to ascertain the precise period of incubation. If the female is not disturbed, or her eggs removed or destroyed, she lays only one set in the season, and as soon as she begins to sit the male leaves her. When the full complement of eggs has been laid, she begins to pluck some down from the lower parts of her body; this operation is daily continued for some time, until the roots of the feathers, as far forward as she can reach, are quite bare, and as clean as a wood from which the undergrowth has been cleared away. This down she disposes beneath and around the eggs. When she leaves the nest to go in search of food, she places it over the eggs, and in this manner, it may be presumed to keep up their warmth, although it does not always ensure their safety, for the Black-backed Gull is apt to remove the covering, and suck or otherwise destroy the eggs.

No sooner are the young hatched than they are led to the water, even when it is a mile distant, and the travelling difficult, both for the parent bird and her brood; but when it happens that the nest has been placed among rocks over the water, the Eider, like the Wood Duck, carries the young in her bill to their favourite element. I felt very anxious to find a nest placed over a soft bed of moss or other plants, to see, whether, like the Wood Duck on such occasions, the Eider would suffer her young ones to fall from the nest; but unfortunately I had no opportunity of observing a case of this kind. The care which the mother takes of her young for two or three weeks, cannot be exceeded. She leads them gently in a close flock in shallow waters, where, by diving, they procure food, and at times, when the young are fatigued, and at some distance from the shore, she sinks her body in the water, and receives them on her back, where they remain several minutes. At the approach of their merciless enemy, the Black-backed Gull, the mother beats the water with her wings, as if intending to raise the spray around her, and on her uttering a peculiar sound, the young dive in all directions, while she endeavours to entice the marauder to follow her, by feigning lameness, or she leaps out of the water and attacks her enemy, often so vigorously, that, exhausted and disappointed, he is glad to fly off, on which she alights near the rocks, among which she expects to find her brood, and calls them to her side. Now and then I saw two females which had formed an attachment to each other, as if for the purpose of more effectually contributing to the safety of their young, and it was very seldom that I saw these prudent mothers assailed by the gull.

The young, at the age of one week, are of a dark mouse colour, thickly covered with soft warm down. Their feet at this period are proportionally very large and strong. By the 20th of July they seemed to be all hatched. They grew rapidly, and when about a fortnight old were, with great difficulty, obtained, unless during stormy weather, when they at times retired from the sea to shelter themselves under the shelvings of the rocks at the head of shallow bays. It is by no means difficult to rear them, provided proper care be taken of them, and they soon become quite gentle and attached to the place set apart for them. A fisherman of Eastport, who carried eight or ten of them from Labrador, kept them several years in a yard close to the water of the bay, to which, after they were grown, they daily betook themselves, along with some common ducks, regularly returning on shore towards evening. Several persons who had seen them, assured me that they were as gentle as their associates, and although not so active on land, were better swimmers, and moved more gracefully on the water. They were kept until the male birds acquired their perfect plumage and mated; but some gunners shot the greater number of them one winter day, having taken them for wild birds, although none of them could fly, they having been pinioned. I have no doubt that if this valuable bird were domesticated, it would prove a great acquisition, both on account of its feathers and down, and its flesh as an article of food. I am persuaded that very little attention would be necessary to effect this object. When in captivity, it feeds on different kinds of grain and moistened corn-meal, and its flesh becomes excellent. Indeed, the sterile females which we procured at Labrador in considerable number, tasted as well as the mallard. The males were tougher and more fishy, so that we rarely ate of them, although the fishermen and settlers paid no regard to sex in this matter.

When the female Eider is suddenly discovered on her nest, she takes to wing at a single spring; but if she sees her enemy at some distance, she walks off a few steps, and then flies away. If unseen by a person coming near, as may often happen, when the nest is placed under the boughs of the dwarf fir, she will remain on it, although she may hear people talking. On such occasions my party frequently discovered the nests by raising the pine branches, and were often as much startled as the ducks themselves could be, as the latter instantly sprung past them on wing, uttering a harsh cry. Now and then some were seen to alight on the ground within fifteen or twenty yards, and walk as if lame and broken-winged, crawling slowly away, to entice their enemies to go in pursuit. Generally, however, they would fly to the sea, and remain there in a large flock until their unwelcome visitors departed. When pursued by a boat, with their brood around them, they allowed us to come up to shooting distance, when, feigning decrepitude, they would fly off, beating the water with partially extended wings, while the young either dived or ran on the surface with wonderful speed, for forty or fifty yards, then suddenly plunged, and seldom appeared at the surface unless for a moment. The mothers always flew away as soon as their brood dispersed, and then ended the chase. The cry or note of the female is a hoarse rolling croak; that of the male I never heard.

Should the females be robbed of their eggs, they immediately go off in search of mates, whether their previous ones or not I cannot tell, although I am inclined to think so. However this may be, the duck in such a case soon meets with a drake, and may be seen returning the same day with him to her nest. They swim, fly, and walk side by side, and by the end of ten or twelve days the male takes his leave, and rejoins his companions out at sea, while the female is found sitting on a new set of eggs, seldom, however, exceeding four. But this happens only at an early period of the season, for I observed that as soon as the males had begun to moult, the females, whose nests had been plundered, abandoned the place. One of the most remarkable circumstances connected with these birds is, that the females with broods are fully three weeks later in moulting than the males, whereas those which do not breed begin to moult as early as they. This may probably seem strange, but I became quite satisfied of the fact while at Labrador, where, from the number which we procured in a state of change, and the vast quantities every now and then in sight, our opportunities of observing these birds in a perfectly natural state were ample.

Some authors have said that the males keep watch near the females; but, although this may be the case in countries such as Greenland and Iceland, where the Eiders have been trained into a state of semi-domestication, it certainly was not so in Labrador. Not a single male did we there see near the females after incubation had commenced, unless in the case mentioned above, when the latter had been deprived of their eggs. The males invariably kept aloof and in large flocks, sometimes of a hundred or more individuals, remaining out at sea over large banks with from seven to ten fathoms of water, and retiring at night to insular rocks. It seemed very wonderful that in the long lines in which we saw them travelling, we did not on any occasion discover among them a young bird, or one not in its mature plumage. The young males, if they breed before they acquire their full colouring, must either be by themselves at this period, or with the barren females, which, as I have already said, separate from those that are breeding. I am inclined to believe that the old males commence their southward migration before the females or the young, as none were to be seen for about a fortnight before the latter started. In winter, when these Ducks are found on the Atlantic shores of the United States, the males and females are intermingled; and at the approach of spring the mated pairs travel in great flocks, though disposed in lines, when you can distinctly see individuals of both sexes alternating.

The flight of the Eider is firm, strong, and generally steady. They propel themselves by constant beats of the wings, undulating their lines according to the inequality of surface produced by the waves, over which they pass at the height of a few yards, and rarely more than a mile from the shores. Few fly across the Gulf of St Lawrence, as they prefer following the coasts of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, to the eastern entrance of the straits of Belle Isle, beyond which many proceed farther north, while others ascend that channel and settle for the season along the shores of Labrador, as far up as Partridge Bay, and still farther up the St Lawrence. Whilst on our waters, or at their breeding grounds, the Eiders are not unfrequently seen flying much higher than when travelling, but in that case they seem to be acting with the intention of guarding against their enemy man. The velocity of their flight has been ascertained to be about eighty miles in the hour.

This species dives with great agility, and can remain a considerable time under water, often going down in search of food to the depth of eight or ten fathoms, or even more. When wounded, however, they soon become fatigued in consequence of the exertion used in diving, and may be overtaken by a well-manned boat in the course of half an hour or so, as when fatigued they swim just below the surface, and may be struck dead with an oar or a boat-hook.

Their food consists principally of shell-fish, the shells of which they seem to have the power of breaking into pieces. In many individuals which I opened, I found the entrails almost filled with small fragments of shells mixed with other matter. Crustaceous animals and their roe, as well as that of various fishes, I also found in their stomach, along with pebbles sometimes as large as a hazel nut. The œsophagus, which is in form like a bag, and is of a leathery firm consistence, was often found distended with food, and usually emitted a very disagreeable fishy odour. The gizzard is extremely large and muscular. The trachea of the young male, so long as it remains in its imperfect plumage, or for the first twelve months, does not resemble that of the old male; but on this subject I intend to speak at length on another occasion. The males do not obtain their full plumage until the fourth winter. They at first resemble the mother, then gradually become pie-bald, but not in less time than between two and three years.

The Eider Duck takes a heavy shot, and is more easily killed on wing than while swimming. When on shore they mark your approach while you are yet at a good distance, and fly off before you come within shot. Sometimes you may surprise them while swimming below high rocks, and, if you are expert, then shoot them; but when they have first seen you, it is seldom that you can procure them, as they dive with extreme agility. While at Great Macatina Harbour, we discovered a large basin of water, communicating with the sea by a very narrow passage about thirty yards across, and observed that at particular stages of the tides the Eider Ducks entered and returned by it. By hiding ourselves on both sides of this channel, we succeeded in killing a good number, but rarely more than one at a shot, although sometimes we obtained from a single file as many as we had of gun-barrels.

Excepting in a single nest, I found no down clean, it having been in every other instance more or less mixed with small dry fir twigs and bits of grass. When cleaned, the down of a nest rarely exceeds an ounce in weight, although, from its great elasticity, it is so bulky as to fill a hat, or if properly prepared even a larger space. The eggers of Labrador usually collect it in considerable quantity, but at the same time make such havock among the birds, that at no very distant period the traffic must cease.

ANAS MOLLISSIMA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 198.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 845.

FULIGULA MOLLISSIMA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 388.

SOMATERIA MOLLISSIMA, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 448.

EIDER DUCK, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 406.

Adult Male. Plate CCXLVI. Figs. 1. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, deeper than broad at the base, somewhat depressed towards the end, which is broad and rounded. Upper mandible with a soft tumid substance at the base, extending upon the forehead, and deeply divided into two narrow rounded lobes, its whole surface marked with divergent oblique lines, the dorsal outline nearly straight and sloping to beyond the nostrils, then curved, the ridge broad at the base, broadly convex towards the end, the edges perpendicular, obtuse, with about fifty small lamellæ on the inner side, the unguis very large, elliptical. Nostrils submedial, oblong, large, pervious, nearer the ridge than the edge. Lower mandible flattened, with the angle very long, rather narrow and rounded, the dorsal line short and slightly convex, the edges with about sixty lamellæ, the unguis very broad, elliptical.

Head very large. Eyes of moderate size. Neck of moderate length, rather slender at its upper part. Body bulky and much depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, strong, placed rather far behind; tarsus very short, compressed, anteriorly having a series of scutella in its whole length, and a partial series above the fourth toe, the rest reticulated with angular scales. Hind toe small, with a free membrane beneath; anterior toes double the length of the tarsus, connected by reticulated membranes, having a sinus at their free margins, the inner with a broad lobed marginal membrane, the outer with a thickened edge; all obliquely scutellate above, the third and fourth about equal and longest. Claws small, that of first toe very small and curved, of middle toe largest, all rather depressed and blunt.

Plumage short, dense, soft, blended. Feathers on the fore part of the head extremely small; on the upper part very narrow, on the occiput and upper and lateral parts of the neck hairlike, stiff and glossy. Wings rather short, narrow, pointed; primary quills curved, strong, tapering, the first longest, the second scarcely shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries short, broad, rounded, the inner elongated, tapering, and recurved. Tail very short, much rounded, of sixteen narrow feathers.

Bill pale greyish-yellow, the unguis lighter, the soft tumid part pale flesh-colour. Iris brown. Feet dingy light green, the webs dusky. Upper part of the head bluish-black; the central part from the occiput to the middle white. The hair-like feathers on the upper part and sides of the neck are of a delicate pale green tint. The sides of the head, the throat, and the neck, are white, the fore neck at its lower part of a fine colour intermediate between buff and cream-colour. The rest of the lower surface is brownish-black, as are the upper tail-coverts, and the central part of the rump. The rest of the back, the scapulars, smaller wing-coverts, and inner curved secondary quills, white, the scapulars tinged with yellow. Secondary coverts and outer secondaries brownish-black; primaries and tail-coverts greyish-brown.

Length to end of tail 25 inches, to end of wings 21-1/2, to end of claws 27; extent of wings 42; wing from flexure 11-1/2; tail 4-1/4; bill from extremity of tumid part 2-10/12, from its notch 2-2/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-10/12; tarsus 1-3/4; middle toe 2-10/12, its claw 7/12. Weight in winter, 5 lb. 5-1/2 oz.; in breeding time 4 lb. 8-1/2 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXLVI. Fig. 2.

The Female differs greatly from the Male. The bill is shorter, its tumid basal part much less and narrower. The feathers of the head and upper part of the neck are very small, soft, and uniform; the scapulars and inner secondaries are not elongated, as in the male. Bill pale greyish-green; iris and feet as in the male. The head and neck all round light brownish-red with small lines of brownish-black. Lower part of neck all round, the whole upper surface, the sides, and the lower tail-coverts of the same colours, but there the brownish-black markings are broad. Secondary quills and larger coverts greyish-brown, tipped with white, primaries brownish-black; tail-feathers greyish-brown. Breast and abdomen greyish-brown, obscurely mottled.

Length to end of tail 24 inches, to end of wings 20-1/2, to end of claws 27; extent of wings 39; wing from flexure 11-1/4; tail 4; bill 3-7/12; tarsus 1-3/4; middle toe 2-7/12, its claw (5-1/2)/12. Weight in winter 4 lb. 4-1/2 oz.; in breeding time 3 lb. 12 oz.

The down of the female is light grey; that of the male on the white parts is pure white, on the dark, greyish-white.

I have represented three of these birds in a state of irritation. A mated pair, having a few eggs already laid, have been approached by a single male, and are in the act of driving off the intruder, who, to facilitate his retreat, is lashing his antagonists with his wings.

THE VELVET DUCK.

FULIGULA FUSCA, BONAP.

PLATE CCXLVII. MALE AND FEMALE.

The Velvet Duck arrives from the north along the shores of the Middle States, about the first of September, and extends to a greater or less distance southward, according to the state of the weather, often proceeding as far as Georgia. The Bay of Chesapeake and all the estuaries to the eastward are amply furnished with it, and there it is usually seen in company with the American Scoter, the Golden-eyed Duck, and some other species. It very rarely enters fresh waters during its stay on our coast, and is with great propriety called a Sea Duck. My friend THOMAS NUTTALL mentions that some, which probably were young birds, had been seen in Fresh Pond near Cambridge in Massachusetts. This is the only case of the kind that I have heard of, although these birds breed in fresh water lakes and in rivers, in which they remain at the season of reproduction about two months.

In the beginning of April, the Velvet Ducks, which are gregarious, collect in large flocks, for the purpose of removing to their northern breeding places, and as they fly steadily onwards, you may see thousands passing at short distances from the shores, and forming an almost continuous line, each flock composed of twenty or thirty individuals, which fly low and irregularly, ranged in an angular form. While on the Bay of Fundy, I went with my party to a projecting cape, round which these birds passed during our stay, from daylight until evening. When it blows hard from the sea, the Ducks come near to the shore, and afford abundant opportunities to such sportsmen as are fond of shooting them.

As we approached the shores of Labrador, we found the waters covered with dense flocks of these birds, and yet they continued to arrive there from the St Lawrence for several days in succession. We were all astonished at their numbers, which were such that we could not help imagining that all the Velvet Ducks in the world were passing before us. This was about the middle of June, which I thought late for them, but the season had been tardy, and the fishermen informed us, that when the weather is warmer, these birds pass a fortnight earlier. The greater number merely appear for a few days on their way farther north, but some remain to breed on the southern coast of Labrador. Thousands of sterile individuals, however, spend the summer on the Bay of Fundy.

During the breeding season, the Velvet Duck resembles the Eider in its habits, only that it prefers fresh water, which is rarely the case with the other species. The males leave the females after incubation has commenced. Those which breed at Labrador begin to form their nests from the 1st to the 10th of June, and on the 28th of July I caught some young ones several days old. The nests are placed within a few feet of the borders of small lakes, a mile or two distant from the sea, and usually under the low boughs of the bushes, of the twigs of which, with mosses and various plants matted together, they are formed. They are large and almost flat, several inches thick, with some feathers of the female, but no down, under the eggs, which are usually six in number, intermediate in size between those of the Eider and King Ducks, measuring an inch and three quarters in length, one and seven-eighths in breadth, of a uniform pale cream colour tinged with green, not pure white as stated by some authors. On the 28th of July I procured five young ones out of a brood of six, among which, although to appearance scarcely a week old, I could readily distinguish the males from the females as they swam on the little pond around their mother, the former having already a white spot under the eye. The down with which they were covered was rather stiff and hair-like, of a black colour, excepting under the chin, where there was a small patch of white. They swam with great ease, and when we drove them into a narrow place for the purpose of catching them, they several times turned upon us and dived with the view of getting back to the middle of the pond, so that at last we found it necessary to shoot them. Only one escaped ashore, which my young friend THOMAS LINCOLN caught, but afterwards restored to its mother, which continued on the pond, manifesting the greatest anxiety, and calling to her brood all the while with short squeaking notes, by no means unpleasant to the ear. On being shot at, she flew off to another pond, but soon returned. Her plumage was rusty and ragged, but the wings seemed to be complete, as she flew with great ease, springing at once from the water.

Mr JONES of Bras d’Or assured me, that either that individual or another of the same species, had bred on the same pond for six or seven years in succession, and that he had looked at the nest and observed her manners when leading about the young, which he said did not leave the pond until they were able to fly. That year, 1833, she and her mate had arrived nearly a month later than usual. This accounted for the small size of the young, which he was sorry to see dead; and here let me say that Mr JONES, who is not only a good-hearted and benevolent man, but also fond of observing nature, was the first person I met with who could give me any rational account of the ducks which bred in his vicinity.

A few of the Velvet Ducks breed on the Island of Grand Manan, and in other places about the Bay of Fundy, but rarely farther south, and the number that remain in Labrador is comparatively small, as we did not observe there more than six or seven broods. They generally leave that part of the coast about the middle of August; but that season they were still seen after the Eider Ducks had departed, which makes me think that they require more warmth than these birds before they begin to lay their eggs. Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS, of the British Royal Navy, a gentleman, besides his professional merits, distinguished for his love of science, informed me that none of these birds were observed on either of his Arctic voyages. The extreme limits of their migrations remain unknown. I have already related the manner in which this and several other species are caught by the Indians in the Bay of Fundy, and therefore it is unnecessary that I should repeat it here, as you will find it at p. 487. of Vol. II.

The flight of the Velvet Duck is strong and sustained, although it usually flies low; yet when pursued, or at the sight of gunners in a boat, it often rises to the height of forty or fifty yards, describes elegant curved lines as it passes and repasses, and thus continues to fly until danger is no longer apprehended. Its movements in the air are performed by continued flappings, and when on wing the white of the wings is beautifully contrasted with the dark hue of the rest of its plumage. It dives with as much agility as the Eider or the American Scoter, and, when wounded, is equally difficult to be caught, nor can it be killed with certainty without a heavy shot.

The Velvet Ducks enter the bays and estuaries to a greater distance than the Eiders. On land they move with more difficulty than those birds, and keep themselves in a more erect attitude, like that in which I have endeavoured to represent the male in the plate. They swim with more buoyancy than the Eiders, but at times seem to rise from the water with considerable difficulty. Their food consists of shell-fish and crustacea, as well as sea-weeds, small fish, and spawn. Their flesh is extremely dark, tastes of fish, and is very unpalatable, although I have seen persons of great judgment in matters of this kind not only eat it with avidity, but praise it as highly as if it were equal to the most tender and juicy venison. They are sold in abundance in our eastern markets and those of the Middle States, at from fifty cents to a dollar the pair.

This species is, in my opinion, very closely allied to the Eider, in so much that I frequently call it the Black King-Duck. Along our coasts it commonly receives the name of White-winged Coot. The female is smaller than the male. The young much resemble the female during the first year. The white spots of the head, however, are apparent, although mottled with dusky, and their feet now shew some of the redness of those of the old males; but I am unable to say with certainty at what age they attain their full summer plumage, and the rich colouring of the bill. The Gizzard, which is not so large as that of the Eider, is of a yellow colour; the gut very large, tough, and strong, about eight feet in length.

ANAS FUSCA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 196.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 43.

FULIGULA FUSCA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 390.

OIDEMIA FUSCA, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 449.

VELVET DUCK, ANAS FUSCA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p. 137. pl. 92. fig. 3.

VELVET DUCK, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 419.

Adult Male. Plate CCXLVII. Fig. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, very broad, as deep as broad at the base, depressed and flattened towards the end, which is rounded. Upper mandible with a short abrupt prominence at the base, its dorsal line on the prominence straight, at its fore edge abruptly sloping, then slightly concave, and at the end curved, the ridge on the prominence very broad and nearly flat, towards the end broadly convex, the sides convex, the edges obtuse with about thirty lamellæ, the unguis very large, and elliptical. Nostrils subbasal, elliptical, very large, pervious, nearer the ridge than the edge, and placed on the lower side of the basal prominence. Lower mandible flat, with the angle long, rather narrow, rounded, the dorsal line slightly convex, the edges with about twenty-five lamellæ, the unguis nearly circular and very large.

Head large. Eyes rather small. Neck of moderate length, thick. Body large, and much depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, placed rather far behind; tarsus very short, compressed, having anteriorly in its whole length a series of small scutella, and above the outer toe a partial series, the rest covered with reticular angular scales. Hind toe small, with a free membrane beneath; anterior toes double the length of the tarsus, united by reticulated membranes having a sinus on their free margins, the inner with a lobed marginal membrane, the outer with a thick edge, the third and fourth about equal and longest. Claws small, that of first toe very small and curved, of middle toe largest, with a dilated inner edge, of the rest slender, all obtuse.

Plumage dense, soft, blended. Feathers on the fore part of the head extremely small, on the neck velvety. Wings rather short, narrow, pointed; primary quills curved, strong, tapering and pointed, the first longest, the second very little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary broad and rounded, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail very short, narrow, wedge shaped, of fourteen stiff narrow feathers.

Basal prominence and sides of the bill black, the sides towards the end bright red, the unguis flesh-colour, with a black line on each side. Iris bright yellow. Feet carmine on the outer side, orange-red on the inner, the webs greyish-black. The general colour of the plumage is brownish-black, on the upper parts glossed with blue, lighter on the lower. The outer secondary quills are white, and there is a spot of the same under the eye.

Length to end of tail 22 inches, to end of wings 19-1/4, to end of claws 24-1/2; extent of wings 39; wing from flexure 12; tail 3-1/2; bill 1-8/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-7/12; tarsus 1-11/12; middle toe 3, its claw 5/12. Weight 3 lb. 10 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXLVII. Fig. 2.

In the Female the basal prominence of the bill is much less elevated, and the colour of the whole bill is dusky. The iris and feet are as in the Male, but of duller tints. The general colour of the plumage is a sooty brown, the breast and abdomen lighter. There are two whitish spots on each side of the head, one near the base of the upper mandible, the other behind the eye; the outer secondary quills are white as in the Male.

Length to end of tail 22 inches, to end of wings 18, to end of claws 25-1/2; extent of wings 38; wing from flexure 11-1/4; tail 3-1/2; bill 1-7/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-7/12; tarsus 1-3/4; middle toe 2-10/12, its claw 5/12. Weight 3 lb. 3 oz.

The down of this species is similar to that of the Eider Duck, and apparently of equal quality.

THE PIED-BILLED DOBCHICK.

PODICEPS CAROLINENSIS, LATH.

PLATE CCXLVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

There go the little Dobchicks, among the tall rashes and aquatic grasses that border the marsh. They have seen me, and now I watch them as they sink gently backwards into the deep water, in the manner of frightened frogs. Cunning things! “Water-witches,” as they call you, I clearly see your bills, although you have withdrawn all of you save those parts, and sneak off towards yon great bunch of bulrushes. Well, speed on, and may safety attend you! Nature has granted you means of eluding your enemies, and I am heartily glad to see that you have profited by her instructions. I know you can fly too. How happy must you be, to be thus enabled to migrate through the air, instead of being obliged to labour for months with your curiously scolloped feet, in removing from one country to another, as authors say you do. Ah! you have reached a small secluded pool, where you intend to breed in peace and security; there you are, collecting rushes and weeds to form a large matted bed, on which you intend to deposit your pearly eggs. Labour on, mind me not, I am a true friend and admirer of your race. I see that among these plants you have fixed your tenement, in which there will soon be five eggs, which, although tinged with green, will look as if pure white. I wish I knew how many days of constant heat from your bodies it will require to hatch them. Some other time perhaps you may tell me. Miniatures of yourselves I now see swimming gaily, skipping, springing, gliding, dipping, just like yourselves. So, you snatch the crawling bug, and gorge yourselves with leeches, fish, and herbage. How fast your young ones grow, changing from downy to hairy, and again to feathery and silky. On winglets they now cross the clear pool, and crawl on the opposite shore, there enjoying the warmth of the bright sunbeams. September has come; plump and strong seven of you there are; the evening is calm and beautiful; you spread out your wings, reach with some difficulty a proper height, and swift as meteors glide through the air, until, meeting with warmer waters, you alight on them, and there remain for a season.

The Pied-billed Dobchick may be met with in almost every part of the United States, at one season or other: in the south and west during autumn and winter, in the east and north-west in spring and summer, mostly on fresh waters of all descriptions, yet when these are covered with ice, on bays and estuaries, where it searches for shrimps and fry, although under other circumstances such haunts are not congenial to it. It is found in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, but I did not meet with it in Labrador or Newfoundland.

I had the good fortune, on the 28th of June, to stumble upon a nest of this bird near the banks of the Wabash river, above Vincennes. It was large for the bird, raised several inches above the muddy and reedy shores of a pond, only a few feet from the water, and composed of decayed weeds, rushes, and earth. On being discovered, the sitting bird slid over the mud, along a path that led directly to the water, in which it immediately dived, and I saw no more of it for about twenty minutes. The eggs, which were five, measured an inch and a quarter, by seven and a half-eighths, were smooth, rather rounded, and of a light greenish-white colour. On breaking one of them, I found it to contain a chick considerably advanced, which induced me to leave the rest untouched, and before I departed I saw the bird, which I believed to be the female, swimming low at a distance. I watched it for some time, but could not discover another, and walked away to allow it to resume its occupation. The nest was fixed among the stalks of strong reeds, but was not attached to any of them. In the month of August, while on the Cayuga lakes, I saw one of these birds with a brood of young about half grown, but could not obtain a single specimen, as they dived with extreme quickness, and eluded all pursuit.

Few birds plunge with more rapidity than this species, which, during submersion, employs its wings, as I had an opportunity of observing while some were passing under a boat when I was in pursuit of them. On the water it is almost impossible to catch them, unless they have been injured in the wing, when they are unable to dive without difficulty. The curious habit which they have of sinking gradually backward in the water, at the sight of an enemy, is very pleasing to observe. Not a ripple do they leave on the spot where they have disappeared, and one unacquainted with them can hardly conceive that a bird could have escaped in so dexterous a manner. My friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH gave me an account of one which, having been observed on a small mill-dam, was pursued by the miller’s sons, who, after chasing it fully an hour, could not even drive it on shore. Their father, however, who was as anxious as themselves to see the curious creature, drained the pond, when the little thing was seen crawling over the mud in a manner not unlike that of a turtle. It was now easily caught, as it was not able to rise on wing, the species, it seems, being incapable of springing from the ground, and was afterwards given to my young friend, who presented it beautifully prepared to me.

While I was at Philadelphia, my learned and staunch friend Dr RICHARD HARLAN, received two Pied-billed Grebes alive, which had been caught in a fishing-net on Brandy wine Creek. We placed them in a large tub of water, where we could see all their subaqueous movements. They swam round the sides of the tub in the manner of the Puffin, moving their wings in accordance with their feet, and continued so a much longer time than one could suppose it possible for them to remain under water, coming up to breathe, and plunging again with astonishing celerity. When placed on the carpet, they ran awkwardly half erect, for a distance of a few feet, tumbled over, and scrambled along with the aid of their wings. Nothing could induce them to eat, and after a day or two of captivity, the little creatures were taken to the Delaware, and set at liberty.

This bird retires to rest on the floating beds of rushes met with in ponds, or on the edges of the shores; and in such places you may see it sitting upright, and dressing its plumage in the sunshine. They are extremely unwilling to rise on wing, unless during their migrations, or when chasing each other at the pairing season, which commences in March, when they manifest a good deal of pugnacity. On such occasions, the males fly, dive, and rise again on wing, in the manner of the Foolish Guillemot. While travelling, they pass rapidly through the air, at times at a considerable elevation, when the movements of their wings produce a sound like that of a hawk stooping on its prey. They are seldom found in parties of more than six or seven. The idea of their migrating by water is quite absurd. How long would it take a Dobchick to swim from the mouths of the Mississippi to the head waters of the Ohio; and when arrived there, after six or seven weeks of constant paddling, how is he to proceed farther? Yet it is well known that they breed farther north, and are general on the southern waters early in October.

The food of the Pied-billed Dobchick consists of small fry, plants, seeds, aquatic insects, and snails; along with which they swallow gravel. On opening several individuals, in different parts of the Union, I observed in their gizzards a quantity of hair and feather-like substance, for which I could not account, but which I at length found to be the down of certain plants, such as thistles, the seeds remaining undigested and attached to it. My friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH made the same observation on examining some at Pictou in Nova Scotia, and I have found similar substances in the stomach of many individuals of Podiceps cristatus.

The Pied-billed Bobchicks seem to form particular attachments to certain ponds or small lakes, where, until they are closed by ice, you may always observe a pair or a family. Opposite Henderson I regularly saw a couple every autumn, and my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN has observed a group of them for many winters in a small pond a few miles distant from Charleston. They seem to have a dislike to swift-running streams, and when on them keep to the eddies along the shores. The curious double pectination on the hind part of their tarsi, seems to aid them greatly while sitting upright on the broad leaves of water-lilies, on the surface of which I have observed indented impressions after the birds had plunged into the water from them. The young differ in colour from the adult, but the old males and females resemble each other, only the former are larger.

PODICEPS CAROLINENSIS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 785.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 418.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 412.

PIED-BILL DOBCHICK, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 259.

Adult Male. Plate CCXLVIII. Fig. 1.

Bill shorter than the head, stout, deep, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight at the base, curved towards the end, the ridge slightly flattened for a short space at the base, narrow in the rest of its extent, the sides convex towards the end, the edges sharp, inflected, the tip obtuse, a little decurved. Nasal groove broad, and extending beyond the middle of the mandible; nostrils elliptical, lateral, sub-medial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, the sides nearly erect, but convex, the dorsal line very short and sloping upwards, the edges inflected, the tips narrow, the gape-line nearly straight.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed; neck rather long; body depressed. Feet placed far behind, short, stout; tibia bare for a very short space below; tarsus short, much compressed, thin before and behind, anteriorly scutellate, on the sides with large scutelliform scales, posteriorly rough, with a double row of very small scales. Hind toe very small and situated high; fourth toe longest, third a little shorter, second much shorter; anterior toes connected by webs, which beyond the second joint are slit and rounded, the outer edges of the second and fourth furnished with broad lobed membranes; the lobes are marked with parallel grooves, directed a little forwards. Claws of fore toes depressed, that of middle toe resembling a human nail.

Plumage blended, on the forehead with stiff enlarged shafts, as in the Rails, on the back shining and rather hard, as well as on the lower part of the neck anteriorly and laterally, on the rest of the lower parts glossy and hair-like. Wings very small; primary quills curved, the second longest, first slightly shorter, third longer than first; secondary short, broad, rounded, the inner elongated and more tapering. Tail a slight tuft of loose feathers.

Bill pale blue, upper mandible dusky along the ridge, and with the lower having a black spot beyond the middle. Iris brown. Feet greyish-black. Upper part of the head and the throat black; neck and sides of the head light greyish-brown, the stiff edges of the feathers on the lower part and sides of the neck greyish-yellow; back brownish-black, as are the inner secondaries; the outer light brown, with a reddish-white spot on the end of the inner web; primaries light brown, dusky at the end. The breast is silvery white, the abdomen brownish-grey, and the sides mottled with the same.

Length to end of tail 14 inches, to end of wings 12, to end of claws 18; extent of wings 23: wing from flexure 4-10/12; bill along the ridge 10/12; along the edge of lower mandible 1-4/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 2, its claw 4/12. Weight 15 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCXLVIII. Fig. 2.

The Female wants the black band on the bill; but is in other respects nearly similar to the male. Weight 13 oz.

THE TUFTED PUFFIN.

MORMON CIRRHATUS, TEMM.

PLATE CCXLIX. MALE.

The specimen from which I drew the figure of this singular looking bird, was procured at the mouth of the Kennebeck River, in Maine. It was shot by a fisherman gunner, while standing on some floating ice, in the winter of 1831-32. No other individual was seen. I could not obtain any information respecting its habits; but as the bird was in tolerable order, I hope that my figures of it will prove not unacceptable. It was a male, and appeared to be adult. My friend, the Prince of Musignano, mentions this species as being an inhabitant of the seas between North America and Kamtschatka, being, he adds, often found on the western coasts of the United States in winter.

ALCA CIRRHATA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 791.

MORMON CIRRHATUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 429.

TUFTED MORMON OR PUFFIN, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 539.

Adult Male. Plate CCXLIX. Fig. 1, 2.

Bill about the length of the head, nearly as high as long, extremely compressed, at the base as high as the head, furrowed on the sides. Upper mandible with a horny rim along the basal margin, its dorsal line convex to the middle, or along the extent of a long, narrow, rounded dorsal prominence, which extends from the base to the first groove, afterwards curved in the fourth of a circle, the ridge narrow, in its basal half rounded, narrower and rather sharp towards the end, the sides slightly convex, and marked with four curved transverse grooves, between the nostril and the tip, the edges rather blunt, nearly straight until close to the decurved, narrow, obtuse tip. The basal rim is scrobiculate, the rest of the mandible smooth. The nostrils are linear, direct, close to the edge, and near the base. Lower mandible with the angle extremely short and narrow, the dorsal line nearly straight and ascending, the sides slightly concave, without grooves, the ridge narrow but convex, the tip very narrow, obliquely truncate. The gape extends downwards a little beyond the base of the bill, and is furnished with a soft corrugated extensible membrane.

Head large, oblong, anteriorly compressed; eye of moderate size, with the edges of the eyelids bare; neck short and thick; body full and rounded. Feet short, rather stout; tibia bare for a short space above the joint; tarsus very short, anteriorly with a series of small scutella, the rest with small roundish scales. Hind toe wanting; toes of moderate length, rather slender, scutellate above, connected by reticulated entire membranes, the third toe longest, the fourth little shorter, the second considerably shorter, with a narrow marginal web. Claws strong, of moderate length, compressed, arched, that of the inner toe much curved, of the middle toe with a thin inner edge.

Plumage close, blended, soft, very short on the head, where, however, along a line over and behind the eye, there is on each side a tuft of long, very slender, acute incurved feathers, of a shining hair-like texture. Wings rather short, curved, narrow, acute; primary quills narrow, incurved, first longest, second slightly shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries very short, small and rounded. Tail very short, slightly rounded, of sixteen narrow rounded decurved feathers.

Bill light yellowish-red, the basal rim and the ridge towards the end of the upper mandible bright red, as is the edge of the eyelids. Iris light blue. Feet bright red; webs of a deeper tint; claws black. Sides of the head white; upper part brownish-black; the elongated feathers behind the eye pale yellow. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-black, glossed with blue, of the lower deep purplish-brown.

Length to end of tail 15 inches, to end of wings 14, to end of claws 14; extent of wings 22-1/2; wing from flexure 8-4/12; tail 2-1/4; bill along the ridge 2-3/4, along the edge of lower mandible 1-11/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 1-10/12, its claw 7/12.

THE ARCTIC TERN.

STERNA ARCTICA, TEMM.

PLATE CCL. MALE.

Light as a sylph, the Arctic Tern dances through the air above and around you. The graces, one might imagine, had taught it to perform those beautiful gambols which you see it display the moment you approach the spot which it has chosen for its nest. Over many a league of ocean has it passed, regardless of the dangers and difficulties that might deter a more considerate traveller. Now over some solitary green isle, a creek or an extensive bay, it sweeps, now over the expanse of the boundless sea; at length it has reached the distant regions of the north, and amidst the floating icebergs stoops to pick up a shrimp. It betakes itself to the borders of a lonely sand-bank, or a low rocky island; there side by side the males and the females alight, and congratulate each other on the happy termination of their long journey. Little care is required to form a cradle for their progeny; in a short time the variegated eggs are deposited, the little Terns soon burst the shell, and in a few days hobble towards the edge of the water, as if to save their fond parents trouble; feathers now sprout on their wings, and gradually invest their whole body; the young birds at length rise on wing, and follow their friends to sea. But now the brief summer of the north is ended, dark clouds obscure the sun, a snow-storm advances from the polar lands, and before it skim the buoyant Terns, rejoicing at the prospect of returning to the southern regions.

The day after our arrival at the Magdaleine Islands, the weather was beautiful, although a stiff breeze blew from the south-west. I landed with my party at an early hour, and we felt as if at a half-way house on our journey from Nova Scotia to Labrador. Some of us ascended the more elevated parts of those interesting islands, while others walked along the shores. A clean sand-beach lay before us, and we proceeded over it, until having reached a kind of peninsula, we were brought to a stand. The Piping Plover ran and flew swiftly before us, emitting its soft and mellow notes, while some dozens of Arctic Terns were plunging into the waters, capturing a tiny fish or shrimp at every dash. Until that moment this Tern had not been familiar to me, and as I admired its easy and graceful motions, I felt agitated with a desire to possess it. Our guns were accordingly charged with mustard-seed shot, and one after another you might have seen the gentle birds come whirling down upon the waters. But previous to this I had marked their mode of flight, their manner of procuring their prey, and their notes, that I might be able to finish the picture from life. Alas, poor things! how well do I remember the pain it gave me, to be thus obliged to pass and execute sentence upon them. At that very moment I thought of those long-past times, when individuals of my own species were similarly treated; but I excused myself with the plea of necessity, as I recharged my double gun. As soon as a sufficient number of males and females lay dead at our feet, we retired from the water’s edge, to watch the motions of the survivors, among whom confusion and dismay prevailed, as they dashed close over our heads, and vociferated their maledictions. We did not, however, depart until we had tried a curious experiment for the third time. A female had been shot, and lay dead on the water for a considerable while. Her mate, whom I was unwilling to destroy, alighted upon her, and attempted to caress her, as if she had been alive. The same circumstance took place three different times, on our throwing the dead bird on the water. Something of the same nature I have related in my article on the Wild Turkey. All this happened in the month of June 1833, when none of the Arctic Terns had yet produced eggs, although we found them nearly ready to lay, as were the Piping Plovers.

Our schooner now sailed onward, and carried us to the dreary shores of Labrador. There, after some search, we met with a great flock of Arctic Terns breeding on a small island slightly elevated above the sea. Myriads of these birds were there sitting on their eggs. The individuals were older than those which we had seen on the Magdeleine Islands; for the more advanced in life the individuals of any species are, the more anxious are they to reproduce, the sooner do they proceed to their summer residence, and the more extensive is the range of their migration northward. On the other hand, the younger the bird is, the farther south it removes during winter, both because it thus enjoys a milder climate, and requires less exertion in procuring its food; whereas the older individuals not only have a stronger constitution, but are more expert in discovering and securing their prey, so that it is not necessary for them to extend their journey so far.

The Arctic Tern is found with us on the eastern coasts of the United States only, where it appears, from the shores of New Jersey northwards, in autumn, and whence it departs in early spring. No sooner have the winter tempests subsided, than it is observed gliding along the coast, together with many other birds. In the beginning of March, you see it following the sinuosities of the shores, some passing directly from the Sable Islands off the Bay of Fundy and Newfoundland into Baffin’s Bay; others, younger, and unwilling to encounter the perils of a more extended flight, passing up the Gulf of St Lawrence, either through the Straits of Cansso, or the broader channel between Cape Breton and Newfoundland, and betaking themselves to the Magdaleine Islands and the coasts of Labrador.

While at American Harbour in June 1833, my son and some of his companions met with a low rocky island, on which hundreds of these Terns had deposited their eggs. No other species was seen there; the birds were mostly sitting, and, on the landing of the party, they all rose as if in the greatest consternation, hovered over their heads, and left their eggs to the mercy of the intruders who carried off a basketful of them, with a few of the birds themselves.

On the 18th of the same month, the Arctic Terns were found breeding on another island in considerable numbers; many dozens of their eggs were gathered, and delicious food indeed they proved to be. The full number of their eggs is three, but as it was early in the season many had only two. Their average dimensions were an inch and a quarter in length, and five-eighths in their greatest breadth; they were oval, but rather sharp at the smaller ends; their ground-colour a light-olive, irregularly covered with patches of dark umber, larger towards the round end. They were deposited on the rocks wherever there was any grass, but no nest had been formed for their reception. They differed extremely in their colour, indeed quite as much as those of the Sandwich Tern. As we approached the little island, they all rose in the air, and flew high over our heads, screaming loudly, which they continued to do until we left the place. Several were shot, and as each fell the rest immediately plunged through the air after it. Whenever one was wounded so slightly as to be able to make off, it was lost to us, and the rest followed it. Only a very few of those which we saw and shot had the bill entirely red, and those which had were evidently older birds. Some exhibited a considerable portion of the point tinged with brownish-black, yet all of them could easily be distinguished from the Sterna Hirundo, first by their smaller size, shorter tarsi, more delicate bill, and greater curvature of the outer part of their wings; and secondly, by the leaden tint of their lower parts, from the neck to the tail, those parts in Sterna Hirundo being pure white. The back is also of a deeper blue in the Arctic Tern. The long tail-feathers were much shorter in the females than in the males, but M. TEMMINCK is wrong in saying that this bird has the tail proportionally longer than that of other species, the Roseate Tern having it of much greater length, considering its diminutive size.

At the beginning of the first autumn, the plumage of the young so much resembles that of the young of Sterna Hirundo, that a person, not paying attention to the tarsi and feet, might readily confound them together. Yet even at this early age, there are strong indications of the bluish tint on the under parts. The longest tail-feathers at this period do not extend more than two inches beyond the rest; the upper parts of the body are mottled with brown, as in all the other species, and in Gulls. The mantle of this, as of all other Terns, assumes its permanent hue before any part of the wings. On the 5th of August, in Labrador, the young birds were gambolling along with their parents, over the shores of Bras d’Or Harbour, and when we left that country the Terns still remained, so that I am unable to state at what particular period they commence their journey southward.

The notes of this species resemble the syllables creek, creek, and are often repeated while the bird is on wing. During autumn it follows the sinuosities of the shores of the bays and inlets, ascending against the ebb, and, returning to meet the tide, which enables it to procure its food in succession while it keeps on its course. I have only farther to mention a curious fact, which is, that all the Terns which breed in the northern parts of the United States, and in regions still nearer the pole, sit closely on their eggs, while the small species that breed to the southward incubate only during night, or in rainy weather.

STERNA ARCTICA, Temm. Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 742.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 354.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 414.

ARCTIC TERN, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 275.

Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCL.

Bill about the same length as the head, slender, tapering, compressed, nearly straight, very acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge rather broad and convex at the base, narrow towards the end, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nasal groove extended beyond the nostrils nearly to the tip; nostrils basal, linear, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow, very acute, extending beyond the middle, the dorsal line straight, the sides erect and slightly convex, the sharp edges inflected, the tip extremely acute.

Head of moderate size, oblong; neck of moderate length; body very slender. Feet very small; tibia bare for a considerable space; tarsus extremely short, slender, roundish, covered anteriorly with small scutella, laterally and behind with reticular scales; toes very small, slender, the first extremely small, the third longest, the fourth nearly as long, the second much shorter, all scutellate above, the anterior connected by reticulated webs having a concave margin; claws arched, compressed, acute, that of hind toe smallest, of middle toe by much the largest, and having the inner edge thin and dilated.

Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the fore part of the head; the feathers in general broad and rounded. Wings very long, narrow and pointed; primary quills tapering, slightly curved inwards, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary short, broad, incurved, rounded, the inner more tapering. Tail long, very deeply forked, of twelve feathers, of which the outer are tapering, the middle short and rounded.

Bill, mouth, and feet vermilion tinged with carmine. Iris brown. The upper part of the head and elongated occipital feathers greenish-black; the sides of the head and chin white; the upper parts pale greyish-blue, the rump lighter, the tail white, excepting the outer webs of the two lateral feathers which are dusky grey, primaries dusky towards the ends, the two outer with their outer webs blackish, all with the greater part of the inner web white; secondaries tipped with white. Neck, breast and sides pale greyish-blue, like the upper parts, but lighter; abdomen, under tail-coverts, and lower surfaces of wings and tail white.

Length to end of tail 15-1/2 inches, to end of wings 13-1/2, to end of claws 9-3/4; extent of wings 32; wing from flexure 10-1/2; tail to end of shortest feathers 3-1/4, to end of longest 7-1/2; bill along the ridge 1-1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 1-10/12; tarsus 8/12; middle toe (8-1/2)/12, its claw (2-1/2)/12. Weight 2-3/4 oz.

A TOUGH WALK FOR A YOUTH.

About twelve years ago I was conveyed, along with my son VICTOR, from Bayou Sarah to the mouth of the Ohio, on board the steamer Magnet, commanded by Mr M’KNIGHT, to whom I here again offer my best thanks for his attentions. The very sight of the waters of that beautiful river filled me with joy as we approached the little village of Trinity, where we were landed along with several other passengers, the water being too low to enable the vessel to proceed to Louisville. No horses could be procured, and as I was anxious to continue my journey without delay, I consigned my effects to the care of the tavern-keeper, who engaged to have them forwarded by the first opportunity. My son, who was not fourteen, with all the ardour of youth, considered himself able to accomplish on foot the long journey which we contemplated. Two of the passengers evinced a desire to accompany us, “provided,” said the tallest and stoutest of them, “the lad can keep up. My business,” he continued, “is urgent, and I shall push for Frankfort pretty fast.” Dinner, to which we had contributed some fish from the river, being over, my boy and I took a ramble along the shores of Cash Creek, on which some years before I had been detained several weeks by ice. We slept at the tavern, and next morning prepared for our journey, and were joined by our companions, although it was past twelve before we crossed the creek.

One of our fellow-travellers, named ROSE, who was a delicate and gentlemanly person, acknowledged that he was not a good walker, and said he was glad that my son was with us, as he might be able to keep up with the lively youth. The other, a burly personage, at once pushed forward. We walked in Indian file along the narrow track cut through the canes, passed a wood-yard, and entered the burnt forest, in which we met with so many logs and briars, that we judged it better to make for the river, the course of which we followed over a bed of pebbles, my son sometimes a-head, and again falling back, until we reached America, a village having a fine situation, but with a shallow approach to the shore. Here we halted at the best house, as every traveller ought to do, whether pedestrian or equestrian, for he is there sure of being well treated, and will not have more to pay than in an inferior place. Now we constituted Mr ROSE purser. We had walked twelve miles over rugged paths and pebbly shores, and soon proceeded along the edge of the river. Seven tough miles ended, we found a house near the bank, and in it we determined to pass the night. The first person we met with was a woman picking cotton in a small field. On asking her if we might stay in her cabin for the night, she answered we might, and hoped we could make a shift with the fare on which she and her husband lived. While she went to the house to prepare supper, I took my son and Mr ROSE to the water, knowing how much we should be refreshed by a bath. Our fellow-traveller refused, and stretched himself on a bench by the door. The sun was setting; thousands of robins were flying southward in the calm and clear air; the Ohio was spread before us smooth as a mirror, and into its waters we leaped with pleasure. In a short time the goodman of the hut called us to supper, and in a trice we were at his heels. He was a tall raw-boned fellow, with an honest bronzed face. After our frugal meal, we all four lay down in a large bed spread on the floor, while the good people went up to a loft.

The woodsman having, agreeably to our instructions, roused us at day-break, told us that about seven miles farther we should meet with a breakfast much better than the last supper we had. He refused any pecuniary compensation, but accepted from me a knife. So we again started. My dear boy appeared very weak at first, but soon recovered, and our stout companion, whom I shall call S., evidently shewed symptoms of lassitude. On arriving at the cabin of a lazy man blessed with an industrious wife and six healthy children, all of whom laboured for his support, we were welcomed by the woman, whose motions and language indicated her right to belong to a much higher class. Better breakfast I never ate: the bread was made of new corn ground on a tin-grater by the beautiful hands of our blue-eyed hostess; the chickens had been prepared by one of her lovely daughters; some good coffee was added, and my son had fresh milk. The good woman, who now held a babe to her bosom, seemed pleased to see how heartily we all ate; the children went to work, and the lazy husband went to the door to smoke a corn-cob pipe. A dollar was put into the ruddy hand of the chubby urchin, and we bade its mother farewell. Again we trudged along the beach, but after a while betook ourselves to the woods. My son became faint. Dear boy! never can I forget how he lay exhausted on a log, large tears rolling down his cheeks. I bathed his temples, spoke soothingly to him, and chancing to see a fine turkey cock run close by, directed his attention to it, when, as if suddenly refreshed, he got up and ran a few yards towards the bird. From that moment he seemed to acquire new vigour, and at length we reached Wilcox’s, where we stopped for the night. We were reluctantly received at the house, and had little attention paid to us, but we had a meal and went to bed.

The sun rose in all its splendour, and the Ohio reflected its ruddy beams. A finer view of that river can scarcely be obtained than that from the house which we were leaving. Two miles through intricate woods brought us to Belgrade, and having passed Fort Massacre, we halted and took breakfast. S. gave us to understand that the want of roads made travelling very unpleasant; he was not, he added, in the habit of “skulking through the bushes or tramping over stony bars in the full sunshine,” but how else he had travelled was not explained. Mr ROSE kept up about as well as VICTOR, and I now led the way. Towards sunset we reached the shores of the river, opposite the mouth of the Cumberland. On a hill, the property of a Major B., we found a house, and a solitary woman, wretchedly poor, but very kind. She assured us, that if we could not cross the river, she would give us food and shelter for the night, but said that as the moon was up, she could get us put over when her skiff came back. Hungry and fatigued we laid us down on the brown grass, waiting either a scanty meal, or the skiff that was to convey us across the river. I had already grated the corn for our supper, run down the chickens, and made a fire, when a cry of “Boat coming” roused us all. We crossed half of the Ohio, walked over Cumberland Isle, and after a short ferry found ourselves in Kentucky, the native land of my beloved sons. I was now within a few miles of the spot where, some years before, I had a horse killed under me by lightning.

It is unnecessary to detain you with a long narrative, and state every occurrence until we reached the banks of Green River. We had left Trinity at 12 o’clock of the 15th October, and on the morning of the 18th four travellers descending a hill, were admiring the reflection of the sun’s rays on the forest-margined horizon. The frost which lay thick on the ground and the fences, glittered in the sheen, and dissolved away; all nature seemed beautiful in its calm repose; but the pleasure which I felt on gazing on the scene was damped by the fatigue of my son, who now limped like a lamed turkey, although, as the rest of the party were not much better off, he smiled, straightened himself, and strove to keep up with us. Poor S. was panting many yards behind, and was talking of purchasing a horse. We had now, however, a tolerably good road, and in the evening got to a house where I inquired if we could have a supper and beds. When I came out, VICTOR was asleep on the grass, Mr ROSE looking at his sore toes, and S. just finishing a jug of monongahela. Here we resolved that, instead of going by Henderson, we should take a cut across to the right, and make direct for Smith’s Ferry, by way of Highland Lick Creek.

Next day we trudged along, but nothing very remarkable occurred excepting that we saw a fine black wolf quite tame and gentle, the owner of which had refused a hundred dollars for it. Mr ROSE, who was an engineer, and a man of taste, amused us with his flageolet, and frequently spoke of his wife, his children, and his fireside, which increased my good opinion of him. At an orchard we filled our pockets with October peaches, and when we came to Trade Water River we found it quite low. The acorns were already drifted on its shallows, and the Wood Ducks were running about picking them up. Passing a flat bottom, we saw a large Buffalo Lick. Where now are the bulls which erst scraped its earth away, bellowing forth their love or their anger?

Good Mr ROSE’s feet became sorer and sorer each succeeding day; Mr S. at length nearly gave up; my son had grown brisker. The 20th was cloudy, and we dreaded rain, as we knew the country to be flat and clayey. In Union County, we came to a large opening, and found the house of a Justice, who led us kindly to the main road, and accompanied us for a mile, giving us excellent descriptions of brooks, woods and barrens, notwithstanding which we should have been much puzzled, had not a neighbour on horseback engaged to shew us the way. The rain now fell in torrents, and rendered us very uncomfortable, but at length we reached Highland Lick, where we stumbled on a cabin, the door of which we thrust open, overturning a chair that had been placed behind it. On a dirty bed lay a man, a table with a journal or perhaps a ledger before him, a small cask in a corner near him, a brass pistol on a nail over his head, and a long Spanish dagger by his side. He rose and asked what was wanted. “The way to a better place, the road to SUGGS’s.” “Follow the road, and you’ll get to his house in about five miles!” My party were waiting for me, warming themselves by the fires of the salt-kettles. The being I had seen was an overseer. By-and-by we crossed a creek; the country was hilly, clayey and slippery; Mr S. was cursing, ROSE limped like a lame duck, but VICTOR kept up like a veteran.

Another day, kind Reader, and I shall for a while shut my journal. The morning of the 21st was beautiful; we had slept comfortably at SUGGS’s, and we soon found ourselves on pleasant barrens, with an agreeable road. ROSE and S. were so nearly knocked up, that they proposed to us to go on without them. We halted and talked a few minutes on the subject, when our companions stated their resolution to proceed at a slower pace. So we bade them adieu. I asked my son how he felt; he laughed and quickened his steps; and in a short time our former associates were left out of sight. In about two hours we were seated in the Green River ferry-boat, with our legs hanging in the water. At Smith’s Ferry this stream looks like a deep lake; and the thick cane on its banks, the large overhanging willows, and its dark green waters, never fail to form a fine picture, more especially in the calm of an autumnal evening. Mr SMITH gave us a good supper, sparkling cider, and a comfortable bed. It was arranged that he should drive us to Louisville in his dearborne; and so here ended our walk of two hundred and fifty miles. Should you wish to accompany us during the remainder of our journey, I have only to refer you to the article “Hospitality in the Woods,” which you will find in a former volume.

THE BROWN PELICAN.

PELECANUS FUSCUS, LINN.

PLATE CCLI. MALE.

The Brown Pelican, which is one of the most interesting of our American birds, is a constant resident in the Floridas, where it resorts to the Keys and the salt-water inlets, but never enters fresh-water streams, as the White Pelican is wont to do. It is rarely seen farther eastward than Cape Hatteras, but is found to the south far beyond the limits of the United States. Within the recollection of persons still living, its numbers have been considerably reduced, so much indeed that in the inner Bay of Charleston, where twenty or thirty years ago it was quite abundant, very few individuals are now seen, and these chiefly during a continuance of tempestuous weather. There is a naked bar, a few miles distant from the main land, between Charleston and the mouth of the Santee, on which my friend JOHN BACHMAN some years ago saw a great number of these birds, of which he procured several; but at the present day, few are known to breed farther east than the salt-water inlets running parallel to the coast of Florida, forty or fifty miles south of St Augustine, where I for the first time met with this Pelican in considerable numbers.

My friend JOHN BULLOW, Esq. took me in his barge to visit the Halifax, which is a large inlet, and on which we soon reached an island where the Brown Pelicans had bred for a number of years, but where, to my great disappointment, none were then to be seen. The next morning, being ten or twelve miles farther down the stream, we entered another inlet, where I saw several dozens of these birds perched on the mangroves, and apparently sound asleep. I shot at them from a very short distance, and with my first barrel brought two to the water, but although many of them still remained looking at us, I could not send the contents of my second barrel to them, as the shot had unluckily been introduced into it before the powder. They all flew off one after another, and still worse, as the servants approached those which had fallen upon the water, they also flew away.

On arriving at the Keys of Florida, on board the Marion Revenue Cutter, I found the Pelicans pretty numerous. They became more abundant the farther south we proceeded, and I procured specimens at different places, but nowhere so many as at Key West. There you would see them flying within pistol-shot of the wharfs, the boys frequently trying to knock them down with stones, although I believe they rarely succeed in their efforts. The Marion lay at anchor several days at a short distance from this island, and close to another. Scarcely an hour of daylight passed without our having Pelicans around us, all engaged at their ordinary occupations, some fishing, some slumbering as it were on the bosom of the ocean, or on the branches of the mangroves. This place and all around for about forty miles, seemed to be favourite resorts of these birds; and as I had excellent opportunities of observing their habits, I consider myself qualified to present you with some account of them.

The flight of the Brown Pelican, though to appearance heavy, is remarkably well sustained, that bird being able not only to remain many hours at a time on wing, but also to mount to a great height in the air to perform its beautiful evolutions. Their ordinary manner of proceeding, either when single or in flocks, is by easy flappings and sailings alternating at distances of from twenty to thirty yards, when they glide along with great speed. They move in an undulated line, passing at one time high, at another low, over the water or land, for they do not deviate from their course on coming upon a key or a point of land. When the waves run high, you may see them “troughing,” as the sailors say, or directing their course along the hollows. While on wing they draw in their head between their shoulders, stretch out their broad webbed feet to their whole extent, and proceed in perfect silence.

When the weather is calm, and a flood of light and heat is poured down upon nature by the genial sun, they are often, especially during the love season, seen rising in broad circles, flock after flock, until they attain a height of perhaps a mile, when they gracefully glide on constantly expanded wings, and course round each other, for an hour or more at a time, after which, in curious zigzags, and with remarkable velocity, they descend towards their beloved element, and settle on the water, on large sand-bars or on mangroves. It is interesting beyond description to observe flocks of Brown Pelicans thus going through their aërial evolutions.

Now, Reader, look at those birds standing on their strong column-like legs, on that burning sand-bar. How dexterously do they wield that great bill of theirs, as they trim their plumage! Now along each broad quill it passes, drawing it out and displaying its elasticity; and now with necks stretched to their full length, and heads elevated, they direct its point in search of the insects that are concealed along their necks and breasts. Now they droop their wings for a while, or stretch them alternately to their full extent; some slowly lie down on the sand, others remain standing, quietly draw their head over their broad shoulders, raise one of their feet, and placing their bill on their back, compose themselves to rest. There let them repose in peace. Had they alighted on the waters, you might have seen them, like a fleet at anchor, riding on the ever-rolling billows as unconcernedly as if on shore. Had they perched on yon mangroves, they would have laid themselves flat on the branches, or spread their wings to the sun or the breeze, as Vultures are wont to do.

But see, the tide is advancing; the billows chase each other towards the shores; the mullets joyful and keen leap along the surface, as they fill the bays with their multitudes. The slumbers of the Pelicans are over; the drowsy birds shake their heads, stretch open their mandibles and pouch by way of yawning, expand their ample wings, and simultaneously soar away. Look at them as they fly over the bay; listen to the sound of the splash they make as they drive their open bills, like a pock-net, into the sea, to scoop up their prey; mark how they follow that shoal of porpoises, and snatch up the frightened fishes that strive to escape from them. Down they go, again and again. What voracious creatures they are!

The Brown Pelicans are as well aware of the time of each return of the tide, as the most watchful pilots. Though but a short time before they have been sound asleep, yet without bell or other warning, they suddenly open their eyelids, and all leave their roosts, the instant when the waters, which have themselves reposed for a while, resume their motion. The Pelicans possess a knowledge beyond this, and in a degree much surpassing that of man with reference to the same subject: they can judge with certainty of the changes of weather. Should you see them fishing all together, in retired bays, be assured, that a storm will burst forth that day; but if they pursue their finny prey far out at sea, the weather will be fine, and you also may launch your bark and go to the fishing. Indeed, most sea-birds possess the same kind of knowledge, as I have assured myself by repeated observation, in a degree corresponding to their necessities; and the best of all prognosticators of the weather, are the Wild Goose, the Gannet, the Lestris, and the Pelican.

This species procures its food on wing, and in a manner quite different from that of the White Pelican. A flock will leave their resting place, proceed over the waters in search of fish, and when a shoal is perceived, separate at once, when each, from an elevation of from fifteen to twenty-five feet, plunges in an oblique and somewhat winding direction, spreading to the full stretch its lower mandible and pouch, as it reaches the water, and suddenly scoops up the object of its pursuit, immersing the head and neck, and sometimes the body, for an instant. It immediately swallows its prey, rises on wing, dashes on another fish, seizes and devours it, and thus continues, sometimes plunging eight or ten times in a few minutes, and always with unerring aim. When gorged, it rests on the water for a while, but if it has a brood, or a mate sitting on her eggs, it flies off at once towards them, no matter how heavily laden it may be. The generally received idea that Pelicans keep fish or water in their pouch, to convey them to their young, is quite erroneous. The water which enters the pouch when it is immersed, is immediately forced out between the partially closed mandibles, and the fish, unless larger than those on which they usually feed, is instantly swallowed, to be afterwards disgorged for the benefit of the young, either partially macerated, or whole, according to the age and size of the latter. Of all this I have satisfied myself, when within less than twenty yards of the birds as they were fishing; and I never saw them fly without the pouch being closely contracted towards the lower mandible. Indeed, although I now much regret that I did not make the experiment when I had the means of doing so, I doubt very much if a Pelican could fly at all with its burden so much out of trim, as a sailor would say.

They at times follow the porpoise, when that animal is in pursuit of prey, and as the fishes rise from the deep water towards the surface, come in cunningly for their share, falling upon the frightened shoal, and seizing one or more, which they instantly gobble up. But one of the most curious traits of the Pelican is, that it acts unwittingly as a sort of purveyor to the Gulls just as the Porpoise acts towards itself. The Black-headed Gull of WILSON, which is abundant along the coast of the Floridas in spring and summer, watches the motions of the Pelicans. The latter having plunged after a shoal of small fishes, of which it has caught a number at a time, in letting off the water from amongst them, sometimes allows a few to escape; but the Gull at that instant alights on the bill of the Pelican, or on its head, and seizes the fry at the moment they were perhaps congratulating themselves on their escape. This every body on board the Marion observed as well as myself, while that vessel was at anchor in the beautiful harbour of Key West, so that it is not again necessary for me to lay before you a certificate with numerous signatures. To me such sights were always highly interesting, and I doubt if in the course of my endeavours to amuse you, I ever felt greater pleasure than I do at this moment, when, with my journal at my side, and the Gulls and Pelicans in my mind’s eye as distinctly as I could wish, I ponder on the faculties which Nature has bestowed on animals which we merely consider as possessed of instinct. How little do we yet know of the operations of the Divine Power! On the occasions just mentioned, the Pelicans did not manifest the least anger towards the Gulls. It is said that the Frigate Pelican or Man-of-war Bird, forces the Brown Pelican to disgorge its food, but of this I never saw an instance; nor do I believe it to be the case, considering the great strength and powerful bill of the Pelican compared with those of the other bird. Indeed, if I had been told that when the Frigate Bird assails the Pelican, the latter opens its large pouch and swallows it entire, I might as soon have believed the one story as the other. But of this more anon, when we come to the habits of the bird in question.

On the ground this species is by no means so active, for it walks heavily, and when running, which it now and then does while in play, or during courtship, it looks extremely awkward, as it then stretches out its neck, partially extends its wings, and reels so that one might imagine it ready to fall at each step. If approached when wounded and on the water, it swims off with speed, and when overtaken, it suddenly turns about, opens its large bill, snaps it violently several times in succession, causing it to emit a smart noise in the manner of owls, strikes at you, and bites very severely. While I was at Mr BULLOW’s, his Negro hunter waded after one whose wing had been broken. The Pelican could not be seized without danger, and I was surprised to see the hunter draw his butcher’s knife, strike the long blade through the open pouch of the bird, hook it, as it were, by the lower mandible, and at one jerk swing it up into the air with extreme dexterity, after which he broke its neck and dragged it ashore.

The pouch measures from six to ten inches in depth, according to the age of the bird after the first moult. The superb male whose portrait is before you, and which was selected from among a great number, had it about the last mentioned size, and capable of holding a gallon of water, were the mandibles kept horizontal. This membrane is dried and used for keeping snuff, gunpowder and shot. When fresh it may be extended so as to become quite thin and transparent, like a bladder.

This Pelican seldom seizes fish that are longer than its bill, and the size of those on which it ordinarily feeds is much smaller. Indeed, several which I examined, had in the stomach upwards of a hundred fishes, which were only from two to three inches in length. That organ is long, slender, and rather fleshy. In some I found a great number of live blue-coloured worms, measuring two and a half inches in length, and about the thickness of a crow-quill. The gut is about the size of a swan’s quill, and from ten to twelve feet in length, according to the age of the individual.

At all periods the Brown Pelican keeps in flocks, seldom amounting to more than fifty or sixty individuals of both sexes, and of different ages. At the approach of the pairing time, or about the middle of April, the old males and females separate from the rest, and remove to the inner keys or to large estuaries, well furnished with mangroves of goodly size. The young birds, which are much more numerous, remain along the shores of the open sea, unless during heavy gales.

Now let us watch the full grown birds. Some skirmishes have taken place, and the stronger males, by dint of loud snappings of their bill, some hard tugs of the neck and head, and some heavy beats with their wings, have driven away the weaker, which content themselves with less prized belles. The females, although quiet and gentle on ordinary occasions, are more courageous than the males, who, however, are assiduous in their attentions, assist in forming the nest, feed their mates while sitting, and even share the labour of incubation with them. Now see the mated birds, like the citizens of a newly laid out town in some part of our western country, breaking the dry sticks from the trees, and conveying them in their bills to yon mangrove isle. You see they place all their mansions on the south-west side, as if to enjoy the benefit of all the heat of that sultry climate. Myriads of mosquitoes buzz around them, and alight on the naked parts of their body, but this seems to give them no concern. Stick after stick is laid, one crossing another, until a strong platform is constructed. Now roots and withered plants are brought, with which a basin is formed for the eggs. Not a nest, you observe, is placed very low; the birds prefer the tops of the mangroves, although they do not care how many nests are on one tree, or how near the trees are to each other. The eggs, of which there are never more than three, are rather elliptical, and average three inches and one-eighth in length, by two inches and one-eighth in their greatest breadth. The shell is thick and rather rough, of a pure white colour, with a few faint streaks of a rosy tint, and blotches of a very pale hue, from the centre towards the crown of the egg.

The young are at first covered with cream-coloured down, and have the bill and feet disproportionately large. They are fed with great care, and so abundantly, that the refuse of their food, putrid and disgusting, lies in great quantities round them; but neither young nor old regard this, however offensive it may be to you. As the former grow the latter bring larger fish to them. At first the food is dropped in a well macerated state into their extended throats; afterwards the fish is given to them entire; and finally the parent birds merely place it on the edge of the nest. The young increase in size at a surprising rate. When half fledged they seem a mere mass of fat, their partially indurated bill has acquired considerable length, their wings droop by their sides, and they would be utterly unable to walk. The Vultures at this period often fall upon them and devour them in the absence of their parents. The Indians also carry them off in considerable numbers; and farther eastward, on the Halifax river, for instance, the Negroes kill all they can find, to make gombo soup of them during winter. The crows, less powerful, but quite as cunning, suck the eggs; and many a young one which has accidentally fallen from the nest, is sure to be picked up by some quadruped, or devoured by the Shark or Balacouda. When extensive depredations have thus been made, the birds abandon their breeding places, and do not return to them. The Pelicans in fact are, year after year, retiring from the vicinity of man, and although they afford but very unsavoury food at any period of their lives, will yet be hunted beyond the range of civilization, just as our best of all game, the Wild Turkey, is now, until to meet with them the student of nature will have to sail round Terra del Fuego, while he may be obliged to travel to the Rocky Mountains before he find the other bird. Should you approach a settlement of the Pelicans and fire a few shots at them, they all abandon the place, and leave their eggs or young entirely at your disposal.

At all seasons, the Negroes of the plantations on the eastern coast of the Floridas lie in wait for the Pelicans. There, observe that fellow, who, with rusty musket, containing a tremendous charge of heavy shot, is concealed among the palmettoes, on the brink of a kind of embankment formed by the shelly sand. Now comes a flock of Pelicans, forcing their way against the breeze, unaware of the danger into which they rush, for there, a few yards apart, several Negroes crouch in readiness to fire; and let me tell you, good shots they are. Now a blast forces the birds along the shore; off goes the first gun, and down comes a Pelican; shot succeeds shot; and now the Negroes run up to gather the spoil. They skin the birds like so many racoons, cut off the head, wings and feet; and should you come this way next year, you may find these remains bleached in the sun. Towards night, the sable hunters carry off their booty, marching along in Indian file, and filling the air with their extemporaneous songs. At home they perhaps salt, or perhaps smoke them; but in whatever way the Pelicans are prepared, they are esteemed good food by the sons of Africa.

The Brown Pelican is a strong and tough bird, although not so weighty as the white species. Its flesh is, in my opinion, always impure. It seems never satisfied with food, and it mutes so profusely, that not a spot of verdure can be seen on the originally glossy and deep-coloured mangroves on which it nestles; and I must say that, much as I admire it in some respects, I should be sorry to keep it near me as a pet.

During winter, when the mullets, a favourite fish with the Brown Pelican, as it is with me, retires into deeper water, these birds advance farther to seaward, and may be seen over all parts of the Gulf of Mexico, and between the Florida Reefs and the opposite isles, especially during fine weather. They are very sensible to cold, and in this respect are tender birds. Now and then, at this season, they are seen on Lake Borgne and over Lake Pontchartrain, but never on the Mississippi beyond the rise of the tides, the space higher up being abandoned to the White Pelican. The keenness of their sight is probably equal to that of any hawk, and their hearing is also very acute. They are extremely silent birds, but when excited they utter a loud and rough grunt, which is far from musical. The young take two years to attain maturity. Several persons in the Floridas assured me that the Brown Pelicans breed at all seasons of the year; but as I observed nothing to countenance such an idea, I would give it as my opinion that they raise only one brood in the season.

Their bodies are greatly inflated by large air-cells; their bones, though strong, are very light; and they are tough to kill.

PELECANUS FUSCUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 215.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 883.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 401.

BROWN PELICAN, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 476.

Adult Male. Plate CCLI.

Bill more than twice the length of the head, rather stout, straight, depressed towards the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight as far as the unguis, the ridge broad and convex, separated from the side by a groove on each side, broader and more convex at the base, narrowed and flattened towards the unguis, which is curved, stout, convex above, sharp-edged, acute; sides of the bill perpendicular at the base, narrowed towards the middle, widened and approaching to horizontal towards the end; edges sharp, with a broad furrowed groove beneath for the reception of those of the lower mandible. Lower mandible with the angle extending to less than half an inch from the tip, and filled by a bare membrane, the sides nearly erect and convex, the edges sharp, the tip compressed, deflected, obtuse. The membrane of the lower mandible extends down the fore neck in the form of a wrinkled pouch.

Head of moderate size, oblong; neck long, stout; body rather slender. Feet short, stout, nearly central; tibia bare at its lower part, covered all round with small scales; tarsus short, stout, compressed, covered all round with hexagonal scales, of which the anterior are much larger; toes in the same plane, all connected by reticulated webs, the first shortest, the third and fourth nearly equal, reticulate at the base, scutellate along the rest of the upper surface, claws short, strong, curved, rather acute, that of hind toe with a sharp pectinate inner edge.

Feathers of the head and neck exceedingly small and slender, of the fore part of the head stiff, hair-like and glossy; of the upper middle part of the neck behind a little larger and soft, forming a slight longitudinal crest; of the sides and hind part of the neck soft and downy. The feathers of the upper parts in general are remarkably small, narrow, tapering to a point; of the lower part of the neck stiff and pointed, of the breast and sides somewhat larger than those above, and softer. Wings long, rounded; primaries much curved, with strong square shafts; the second longest, the third very little shorter, the first a little longer than the fifth, secondaries very numerous, rather small, rounded, the inner longer and more tapering. Tail short, slightly rounded, of twenty-two feathers.

Bill greyish-white, tinged with brown, and marked with irregular spots of pale carmine; upper mandible dusky towards the end, lower blackish from the middle to near the end. Bare space between the bill and the eye deep blue; eyelids pink; iris white. Feet black. The gular pouch is greenish-black, the ridges of its wrinkles lighter. The hairlike feathers on the fore part of the head light yellow, the rest of the head white; a stripe of the same margining the pouch to the middle of the neck, and extending a little beyond, a short space between these two lines anteriorly, and the whole of the posterior and lateral parts of the neck of a dark chestnut brown, the small crest paler. The back and wings are dusky, each feather with the central part greyish-white; the latter colour prevails on the scapulars and larger wing-coverts. Primaries and their coverts brownish-black, secondaries greyish-brown, their outer edges greyish-white; tail light grey; the shafts of the quills and tail-feathers are white in their basal half, black towards the end. The lower parts are brownish-grey; the sides of the neck and body with narrow longitudinal white lines. On the fore neck, below the dark chestnut spot is a smaller pale yellow mark, behind which the feathers for a short space are blackish-brown.

Length to end of tail 52 inches, to end of wings 52, to end of claws 53-1/4; extent of wings 80; bill along the ridge 13-1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 14-1/4; depth of gular pouch 10, its extent along the neck 13; wing from flexure 24; tail 7; tarsus 2-1/2; middle toe 3-11/12, its claw 9/12. Weight 6 lb. 4-1/2 oz.

The Female, which is considerably larger, resembles the male in colour, only that the neck is yellowish-white in its whole extent, without any brown, and its feathers are stiff and not downy as in the male. Weight 7 lb. 12 oz.

THE MANGROVE.

RHIZOPHORA MANGLE, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. ii. p. 325.

The species of Mangrove represented in the plate is very abundant along the coast of Florida and on almost all the Keys, excepting the Tortugas. Those islands which are named Wet Keys are entirely formed of Mangroves, which raising their crooked and slender stems from a bed of mud, continue to increase until their roots and pendent branches afford shelter to the accumulating debris, when the earth is gradually raised above the surface of the water. No sooner has this taken place than the Mangroves in the central part of the island begin to decay, and in the course of time there is only an outer fringe or fence of trees, while the interior becomes overgrown with grass and low bushes. Meantime the Mangroves extend towards the sea, their hanging branches taking root wherever they come in contact with the bottom, and their seeds also springing up. I am at a loss for an object with which to compare these trees, in order to afford you an idea of them; yet if you will figure to yourself a tree reversed, and standing on its summit, you may obtain a tolerable notion of their figure and mode of growth. The stem, roots and branches are very tough and stubborn, and in some places the trees are so intertwined that a person might find it as easy to crawl over them as to make his way between them. They are evergreen, and their tops afford a place of resort to various species of birds at all seasons, while their roots and submersed branches give shelter to numberless testaceous mollusca and small fishes. The species represented is rarely observed on the coast of Florida of a greater height than twenty-five or thirty feet, and its average height is not above fifteen feet. The Land Mangrove, of which I have seen only a few, the finest of which were on Key West, is a tall tree, much larger and better shaped than the other, with narrower leaves and shorter fruits.

THE FLORIDA CORMORANT.

PHALACROCORAX FLORIDANUS.

PLATE CCLII. MALE.

Few birds inhabiting the United States are so little known, or have been so incorrectly described, as the Cormorants. Nay even some of the European species of this genus are yet not well understood, so imperfectly have they been studied by writers who, although they have defined their forms, have not sufficiently studied them in the places to which they resort during the breeding season. Of the three species of which I shall speak in this volume, only one has been accurately described. I allude to the Double-crested Cormorant, P. dilophus, which was met with by the intrepid Dr RICHARDSON in the course of his Arctic journeys, and introduced to the scientific world in the Fauna Boreali-Americana, but without a figure, a circumstance to be regretted, as good representations of birds are fully as necessary as good descriptions. When the student has perused both, he cannot fail to recognise the species in whatever part of the world he may afterwards meet with it.

Our Cormorants are by no means great travellers, although they all migrate more or less at particular seasons. The three species to which only I shall at present allude, are each restricted to a comparatively small portion of North America. The Large Cormorant, P. Carbo, rarely goes farther north than the southern coast of Labrador, and is seldom seen as far south as the Bay of New York. The Double-crested, P. dilophus, which is next in size, proceeds farther in both directions, having been met with by Dr RICHARDSON, although my amiable friend Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS, R. N. does not mention having seen any birds of this family in the course of his voyages in the arctic seas. It breeds in great numbers in Labrador, and during winter proceeds along our eastern coasts sometimes as far as Charleston in South Carolina. The Florida Cormorant, P. floridanus, is a constant resident in the southern parts of the country from which it derives its name, and is more especially abundant there in early spring and summer, breeding on the keys and along the salt-water inlets of the southern extremity of the peninsula, from which considerable numbers are now known to visit the waters of the Mississippi and even of the Ohio, while others proceed as far eastward as Cape Hatteras, all returning to the Floridas on the approach of cold weather.

The Florida Cormorant seldom goes far out to sea, but prefers the neighbourhood of the shores, being found in the bays, inlets, and large rivers. I never met with one at a greater distance from land than five miles. It is at all seasons gregarious, although it is not always found in large flocks. The birds of this species never suffer others of the same genus to resort to their breeding places, although they sometimes associate with individuals belonging to different genera. The P. Carbo appropriates to itself the upper shelves of the most rugged and elevated rocks, whose bases are washed by the sea; P. dilophus breeds on flat rocky islands at some distance from the shores of the mainland; and the Florida Cormorant nestles on trees. In the many breeding places of all these species which I have visited, I never found individuals of one intermingled with those of another, although the Large Cormorant did not seem averse from having the Peregrine Falcon in its vicinity, while the Double-crested allowed a few Gannets or Guillemots to nestle beside it, and the Florida Cormorant associated with Herons, Frigate Pelicans, Grakles, or Pigeons.

This species seldom flies far over land, but follows the sinuosities of the shores or the waters of rivers, although its course towards a given point should thus be three times as long. It is the only one of the three species that, in as far as I have observed in America, alights on trees. My learned friend, the Prince of Musignano, mentions in his valuable Synopsis of the Birds of the United States, a species of Cormorant under the name of P. Graculus, which he describes as being when adult greenish-black, with a few scattered white streaks on the neck, in winter bronzed, and having a golden-green crest, the head, neck, and thighs with short small white feathers, and adds that it “inhabits both continents and both hemispheres: not uncommon in spring and autumn in the Middle States: very common in the Floridas, where it breeds, though very abundant in the arctic and antarctic circles.” Unfortunately no dimensions are given, except of the bill, which is said to be three and a half inches long. The Florida Cormorant, however, does not at any season present these characters, and therefore conceiving it to be different from any hitherto described, I have taken the liberty of giving it a name, while the figure and description will enable the scientific to form a distinct idea of it, and thus to confirm the species, or restore to it its previous appellation, should it have received one.

On the 26th of April 1832, I and my party visited several small Keys, not many miles distant from the harbour in which our vessel lay. Mr THRUSTON had given us his beautiful barge, and accompanied us with his famous pilot, fisherman and hunter, Mr EGAN. The Keys were separated by narrow and tortuous channels, from the surface of the clear waters of which were reflected the dark mangroves, on the branches of which large colonies of Cormorants had already built their nests, and were sitting on their eggs. There were many thousands of these birds, and each tree bore a greater or less number of their nests, some five or six, others perhaps as many as ten. The leaves, branches, and stems of the trees, were in a manner white-washed with their dung. The temperature in the shade was about 90° Fahr., and the effluvia which impregnated the air of the channels were extremely disagreeable. Still the mangroves were in full bloom, and the Cormorants in perfect vigour. Our boat being secured, the people scrambled through the bushes, in search of the eggs. Many of the birds dropped into the water, dived, and came up at a safe distance; others in large groups flew away affrighted; while a great number stood on their nests and the branches, as if gazing upon beings strange to them. But alas! they soon became too well acquainted with us, for the discharges from our guns committed frightful havock among them. The dead were seen floating on the water, the crippled making towards the open sea, which here extended to the very Keys on which we were, while groups of a hundred or more swam about a little beyond reach of our shot, awaiting the event, and the air was filled with those whose anxiety to return to their eggs kept them hovering over us in silence. In a short time the bottom of our boat was covered with the slain, several hats and caps were filled with eggs; and we may now intermit the work of destruction. You must try to excuse these murders, which in truth might not have been nearly so numerous, had I not thought of you quite as often while on the Florida Keys, with a burning sun over my head, and my body oozing at every pore, as I do now while peaceably scratching my paper with an iron-pen, in one of the comfortable and quite cool houses of the most beautiful of all the cities of old Scotland.

The Florida Cormorant begins to pair about the first of April, and commences the construction of its nest about a fortnight after. Many do not lay quite so early, and I found some going through their preparations until the middle of May. Their courtships are performed on the water. On the morning, beautiful but extremely hot, of the 8th of that month, while rambling over one of the Keys, I arrived at the entrance of a narrow and rather deep channel, almost covered over by the boughs of the mangroves and some tall canes, the only tall canes I had hitherto observed among those islands. I paused, looked at the water, and observing it to be full of fish, felt confident that no shark was at hand. Cocking both locks of my gun, I quietly waded in. Curious sounds now reached my ears, and as the fishes did not appear to mind me much, I proceeded onward among them for perhaps a hundred yards, when I observed that they had all disappeared. The sounds were loud and constantly renewed, as if they came from a joyous multitude. The inlet suddenly became quite narrow, and the water reached to my arm-pits. At length I placed myself behind some mangrove trunks, whence I could see a great number of Cormorants not more than fifteen or twenty yards from me. None of them, it seemed, had seen or heard me; they were engaged in going through their nuptial ceremonies. The males while swimming gracefully round the females, would raise their wings and tail, draw their head over their back, swell out their neck for an instant, and with a quick forward thrust of the head utter a rough guttural note, not unlike the cry of a pig. The female at this moment would crouch as it were on the water, sinking into it, when her mate would sink over her until nothing more than his head was to be seen, and soon afterwards both sprung up and swam joyously round each other, croaking all the while. Twenty or more pairs at a time were thus engaged. Indeed, the water was covered with Cormorants, and, had I chosen, I might have shot several of them. I now advanced slowly towards them, when they stared at me as you might stare at a goblin, and began to splash the water with their wings, many diving. On my proceeding they all dispersed, either plunging beneath or flying off, and making rapidly towards the mouth of the inlet. Only a few nests were on the mangroves, and I looked upon the spot as analogous to the tournament grounds of the Pinnated Grouse, although no battles took place in my presence. A few beautiful Herons were sitting peaceably on their nests, the musquitoes were very abundant, large ugly blue land-crabs crawled among the mangroves, hurrying towards their retreats, and I retired, as I had arrived, in perfect silence. While proceeding I could not help remarking the instinctive knowledge of the fishes, and thought how curious it was that, as soon as they had observed the Cormorants’ hole, none had gone farther, as if they were well aware of the danger, but preferred meeting me as I advanced towards the birds. I emerged from the water almost exhausted with heat, my eyes aching from the perspiration; but the refreshing sea-breeze now reached me, and cooled my feverish frame. Thankful, Reader, did I then feel, and thankful do I feel now, having survived so many encounters of this kind.

The nest of the Florida Cormorant is of rather a small size, being only eight or nine inches in diameter. It is formed of sticks crossing each other, and is flat, without any appearance of finishing. All the nests are placed on a western exposure, and are usually completely covered with excrement, as are also frequently the eggs, which are three or four, and differ in size, their average length, however, being two inches and a quarter, their greatest breadth one inch and three and a half eighths. They are rendered rather rough by the coating of calcareous matter which surrounds them; but when this is removed, the real shell is found to be of a uniform fine light bluish-green tint. I was unable to ascertain the period of incubation. The young are at first blind, naked, black, and extremely uncouth. On placing some which were quite small on the water, they instantly dived, rose again, and swam about at random, diving on the least noise. If you approach them when about a month old, they throw themselves from the nest and plunge into the water. When undisturbed, they remain in the nest until they are fully fledged and able to fly, after which they undergo various changes, and are not perfect until nearly two years old.

Soon after they are left to shift for themselves, great numbers go to search for food in the quiet waters of inland streams. Thousands may now be seen on the lakes of the interior of the Floridas, and on the large rivers there. At this season many proceed as far as the Capes of North Carolina, the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Yazoo, and other streams, including the fair Ohio, on which they are at times seen early in October, when they begin to return to the places of their nativity. During several weeks which I spent on the St John’s River, while on board the United States’ schooner-of-war the Spark, I was surprised to see the number of these Cormorants already returning towards the keys, so much so that had I been the discoverer of that stream under similar circumstances, I should in all probability have named it Cormorant River. While we were at anchor near its mouth, they passed close to us in long single files almost continually, and, on reaching the sea, bore away towards the south along the shores.

On the Mississippi, in the month of October, when the temperature is considerably lower than in the Floridas, you see these birds during the day standing in their usual inclined position, on the sawyers and planters, as if resting there—so at least was the case in the autumn of 1820,—or on the dead branches of trees along the shores. In cloudy days they sailed high in the air, and in wide circles, after which, as if aware of cold weather being at hand, they swiftly followed in long lines the meandering course of the stream, at a considerable elevation. While sailing aloft, they frequently uttered a note not unlike that of the raven in similar circumstances. When approached while standing on a planter, instead of taking to wing at once, although elevated several feet above the water, they prefer plunging first into the stream, when they almost instantly rise to the surface, paddle with their feet, and beat with their wings for twenty or thirty yards, and then rise into the air. Now and then, when of a sudden the weather becomes cold at night, you see them at early dawn join in numbers of fifty or perhaps a hundred, rise high in the air, arrange themselves in angular double files, and fly swiftly southward.

When in fresh water streams they fish principally in the eddies, and as soon as one of them is depopulated, or proves unworthy of their farther search, they rise and fly about a foot above the surface to another place, where they continue to fish. In the inner lakes of the Floridas they fish at random any where, and this is equally the case around the Keys, and on the bays and inlets along the coast. In fine calm weather, when the sun is pouring down a flood of light and heat, the Cormorants in flocks betake themselves to some clean sand-bar or rocky isle, or alight on trees, where they spread out their wings, and bask at times for hours, in the manner of Vultures and Pelicans.

The Florida Cormorant, like all the other species with which I am acquainted, swims deep, and dives with great expertness, so that it is almost useless to follow one when wounded, unless it has been greatly injured. On seeing an enemy approach, it first beats the water with its wings, as if in play, or as it would do if washing itself, raises both wings for a minute or more, then paddles off, and takes to wing. When on a lake, they prefer diving to flying, swim with all but the neck and head under water, in the manner of the Anhinga or Snake-bird, and easily dive without shewing their backs.

They procure their food entirely by diving from the surface of the water, never from on wing, as some compilers assert; nay, the very form of their bill, and the want of air-cells, such as plunging birds are usually provided with, prevent them from darting from above into the water, as is the habit of Gannets and other birds, which seek for food on wing, go far out to sea, and stand gales such as the Cormorant, which rarely venture out of sight of the shores, does not dare to encounter, or of those which, like Gulls, pass swiftly in curved lines over the surface, picking up their prey. On emerging, these Cormorants usually swallow their prey if it has been so seized as to enable them to do so with ease; if not, they throw it up to a short distance in the air, receive it with open bill, and gulp it head foremost. If the fish is large, they swim or fly to the shore, or alight on a tree with it, and there beat and tear it to pieces, after which they swallow it. Their appetite is scarcely satiable, and they gorge themselves to the utmost at every convenient opportunity.

The flight of this species is perhaps more rapid than that of the others mentioned above, and is performed by continued flappings when the bird is travelling, but by alternate flappings and sailings of great elegance during the beginning of the breeding season, or when they collect in large flocks in lowering weather, sometimes also when about to alight. Their food consists chiefly of fish, and they generally prefer those of small size. While on the Florida Keys, I procured five specimens of the Hippocampus, fresh and uninjured, from the gullets of some of these Cormorants. They are hard to kill, and live to a great age.

They are easily treated in captivity; but their awkward movements on the ground, where they often use the tail as a support, render them less pleasing objects than other feathered pets. Besides, they eat and mute inordinately, and instead of charming you with songs, utter no sound excepting a grunt. Their flesh is dark, generally tough, and has a rank fishy taste, which can suit the palate only of refined epicures, some of whom I have heard pronounce it excellent. The Indians and Negroes of the Floridas kill the young when nearly able to fly, and after skinning them, salt them for food. I have seen them offered for sale in the New Orleans market, the poorer people there making gombo soup of them.

A bird of this species, which I shot near its breeding place, and which, on being examined, proved to be a female, had the feathers of the tail covered with delicate slender sea-weeds of a bright green colour, such as I have often observed on marine turtles, and which appeared to have actually grown there.

The slender feathers on the sides of the head fall off by the time incubation has commenced, and do not appear during winter, as is alleged by authors when speaking of the crests or appendages of Cormorants, nor do they last more than a few weeks, as is also the case in the Egrets and Herons.

PHALACROCORAX FLORIDANUS.

Plate CCLII. Adult Male in spring.

Bill about the length of the head, rather slender, somewhat compressed, straight, with the tip curved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly concave, until near the tip, when it is decurved, the ridge convex, and separated from the sides by a narrow groove, the sides erect, convex, the edges sharp and straight as far as the unguis, which is strong, convex above, incurved, acute. No external nostrils when full-grown. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow towards the end, filled by an extensible membrane, which extends a short way down the throat, its dorsal line a little convex, the sides erect and convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip compressed and obliquely truncate.

Head rather small, oblong, narrowed before. Neck long and slender. Body rather full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed far behind; tibia feathered in its whole length; tarsus very short, strong, much compressed, covered all round with scales, of which the anterior and lateral are large and subhexagonal, the posterior very small and roundish. Toes all placed in the same plane, and connected by reticulated webs, covered above with very numerous oblique scutella; first toe smallest, fourth longest. Claws rather small, strong, compressed, acute, rounded above, arched, that of the third toe pectinated on its inner edge.

Plumage of the head, neck, lower parts, and posterior portion of the back glossy, blended, and silky, of the fore part of the back and wings compact, the feathers with narrow loose glossy margins. From behind the eye to the length of an inch and a half on each side, a line of extremely slender loose elongated feathers. Space around the eye, and to a large extent along the base of the bill, together with the small gular sac, bare. Wings rather small; primaries very strong, curved, rather narrow, tapering and obtuse, second longest, third almost equal, first longer than fourth; secondaries decurved, broad, broadly rounded, the inner narrower. Tail of moderate length, very narrow, much rounded, or cuneate, of twelve narrow rounded feathers, having extremely strong shafts.

Upper mandible black, along the basal margins bright blue; lower bright blue, curiously spotted with white. Iris light green, margins of eyelids light blue, spotted with white. Bare space on the head and gular sac rich orange. Feet and claws greyish-black. All the silky part of the plumage is greenish-black, at a distance appearing black, but at hand in a strong light green. The imbricated feathers of the back and wings greyish-brown, tinged with purple, their fringe-like margins greenish-black. Primary quills brownish-black, secondary like the other feathers of the wing. Tail brownish-black. The shafts of all the feathers brownish-black.

Length to end of tail 29-3/4 inches, to end of wings 25-1/2, to end of claws 28-1/2; extent of wings 46-1/2; wing from flexure 11-3/4; tail 6; bill along the back 2-5/12, along the edge of lower mandible 3-7/12; tarsus 2; outer toe 3-5/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12 Weight 3-1/2 lb.

The Female is precisely similar to the male.

The young, after their first moult, have the bill dull yellow, the ridge of the upper mandible dusky, the unguis or hook horn-colour; the naked parts about the base of the bill rich yellow, the iris light green, the feet as in the adult. The feathers of the head and neck are blended, but not silky; the upper part of the head and the hind neck are brownish-black, tinged with green, the throat greyish-white, the fore neck and anterior part of the breast variegated with pale brownish-grey and black. The rest of the plumage is as in the adult, but the imbricated feathers of the upper parts are of a lighter colour, but not bronzed.

This species differs from the Double-crested Cormorant principally in being smaller, and in having the elongated feathers behind the eye much fewer. The two species will be more particularly compared when the latter is described.

THE POMARINE JAGER.

LESTRIS POMARINUS, TEMM.

PLATE CCLIII. FEMALE.

This bird I never had an opportunity of examining until I visited Labrador; nor am I able to give you much information respecting its habits as obtained by my own observation, and therefore I shall take the liberty of adding to my description such notices as I may judge interesting, taken from the works of authors who, having seen for themselves, are entitled to credit.

While sailing towards the harbour of Little Macatina, and yet about forty miles distant from it, although not far from the shore, we observed a bird of this species approaching the vessel. It flew in the manner of the Pigeon Hawk, to my account of which I may refer you, alighted on the water like a Gull, and fed on some cod-fish’s liver that had been thrown overboard for the purpose of attracting it. Several small Petrels joined it, but it did not come within shot, and the sea was too rough for even our whale-boat. On the 30th of July the young men of my party brought me a fine adult female, in excellent order, from which I drew the figure in the plate. A few days after we experienced a very heavy gale while in the harbour of Bras d’Or, during the continuance of which twenty or thirty of these birds came about us, although none of them approached within shot, and no boat could have ridden the furious waves without imminent danger. On that occasion, however, I was enabled to observe some of their habits. They flew wildly about, yet with much grace, moving rapidly to and fro, now struggling against the blast, now bearing off and drifting to a considerable distance. Many Gulls were flying about, having also made for the harbour to obtain some shelter from the storm. The Lestris chased the smaller species with effect, but never approached the Great Black-backed Gulls, nor even their young, which were also flying with the rest. The Kittiwakes and the Ring-billed Gulls were the species which we saw them attack, although they did not procure much food from them, the weather being such that they could not fish. They were therefore contented, as was the Lestris, with the fishes that had been thrown on shore. At times the Jagers would ramble over the land, flying close upon the rocks, and proceeding at a rapid rate even against the wind. They remained in our neighbourhood until the tempest abated, when they went off to sea, and I saw no more of them until we reached St George’s Bay in Newfoundland.

There, on a squally afternoon, two or three of them were observed flying around, but keeping at such a distance that we could not shoot any of them. The following day, after setting sail, we encountered a heavy gale, which, although foretold by me from the appearance of the birds in the harbour, our good captain would not believe as likely to happen. We were obliged to lie-to, and were tossed about for three nights and days, but escaped with little other damage than the loss of a pet Gull, which was washed overboard.

On our return to Eastport, Captain EMERY told me that he had seen a great number of these Jagers near Cape Sable; and at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, I was assured that they breed on Sable Island, which is sixty or seventy miles distant from the coast. I never observed one of these birds along the shores of the United States, although some of the genus go as far south in winter as the Gulf of Mexico.

Nothing is known with certainty respecting the changes which this species undergoes as it advances toward maturity. Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS, R. N. has informed me that a nest containing two eggs was found by him near Fury Point, close by the edge of a small lake. I have no doubt that this bird breeds in Labrador, as the female which I obtained in July appeared as if it had young at the time.

My friend Mr SELBY states that he is not aware that an adult bird has yet been killed in Britain. M. TEMMINCK says it forms a rude nest of grass and moss, which is placed on a tuft in the marshes, or on a rock, and lays two or three very pointed eggs, of a greyish-olive colour, marked with a few blackish spots. Dr RICHARDSON has the following notice respecting it in the Fauna Boreali-Americana:—“The Pomarine Jager or Gull-hunter is not uncommon in the Arctic seas and northern outlets of Hudson’s Bay, where it subsists on putrid fish and other animal substances thrown up by the sea, and also on the matters which the Gulls disgorge when pursued by it. It retires from the north in the winter, and makes its first appearance at Hudson’s Bay in May, coming in from seaward.”

LESTRIS POMARINUS, Temm. Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 793.

LESTRIS POMARINA, POMARINE JAGER, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 364.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 429.

POMARINE JAGER, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 315.

Adult Female. Plate CCLIII.

Bill shorter than the head, strong, slightly compressed, straight, the tip curved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight, toward the tip curved, the ridge broad and convex with a slight central depression, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip compressed, rather rounded but sharp. Nasal groove long, narrow, curved; nostrils in its fore part, medial, lateral, longitudinal, broad before, extremely narrow behind, open and pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, a slight prominence at its extremity, beyond which the dorsal line is slightly concave, the sides erect, and slightly convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip obliquely truncate.

Head rather large. Neck of moderate length. Body rather full. Feet of moderate length, rather slender; tibia bare at its lower part, and rough all round with small convex scales; tarsus compressed behind, anteriorly covered with decurved scutella, the sides reticulated, the hind part rough with small pointed scales; hind toe extremely small and elevated, the fore toes of moderate size, connected by reticulated webs, which have their margins convex; the third toe longest, the fourth nearly as long, all scutellate above. Claws strong, curved, very acute, compressed, that of third toe with a sharp inner edge.

The plumage in general is close, elastic, soft and blended; the feathers on the back and wings rather compact and distinct. Wings very long, rather broad, pointed; primary quills tapering and rounded, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary rather short, rounded. Tail of moderate length, the feathers, which are twelve, are broad and rounded, the two middle an inch longer than the next.

Bill blackish-brown at the end, dingy yellow towards the base. Iris brown. Tibia, toes, webs, and lower half of tarsus black, the upper half light blue; claws black. Upper part and sides of the head anteriorly brownish-black; upper part of neck all round yellowish-white; the rest of the neck white, barred with brownish-black, each feather having two transverse bands of that colour; breast white; sides, abdomen and lower tail-coverts white, barred with brownish-black, as are the upper tail-coverts. Back and wings brownish-black; primary quills of the same colour, white on the inner webs towards the base, as are the secondaries and tail-feathers, lower surface of wings mottled and barred with white and dusky.

Length to end of tail 20-1/4 inches, to end of wings 20-1/4, to end of claws 19-1/4; extent of wings 48; wing from flexure 14; tail 6-2/12; bill along the back 1-9/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-1/2; tarsus 2-1/12; middle toe 1-9/12, its claw 8/12. Weight 1-1/2 lb.

WILSON’S PHALAROPE.

PHALAROPUS WILSONII, SABINE.

PLATE CCLIV. MALE AND YOUNG.

The habits of this beautiful species are little known, for so irregularly does it perform its migrations, and so rarely does it settle for any length of time in any part of the United States, that at present few opportunities of studying them occur. Although I have found individuals in various places along our eastern coast, from Boston to New Jersey, as well as in Kentucky and other portions of the Union, I have not seen its nest, nor even its eggs. Mr DRUMMOND, whose zeal as a student of nature must be known to every one devoted to natural history, had the good fortune to find its nest in the course of his rambles among the Rocky Mountains, but he has given no information respecting its habits. A person who shewed me the skins of two specimens procured in July near Cape May in New Jersey, assured me that he shot them near their nests, and that they had four eggs. While I was in the same neighbourhood, in the month of June 1829, a fisherman gunner, with whom I was at the time residing at Great Egg Harbour, brought me a pair which he had just killed. He represented them as very gentle and easily approached, and said that on going towards them they affected to be lame, and opened their wings as if to induce him to run after them; instead of doing which, however, he immediately fired and killed them both. Having put away the birds in a safe place, he and I took to his boat and went to the island where he had found them. He shewed me the spot on which they had been shot; but although we searched most diligently for the nest, we could not find it. On examining the birds when we returned, I saw that the female must have been sitting. About the same period my son procured two specimens of this Phalarope out of a flock of five, on the rocks at the rapids of the Ohio below Louisville. Late in the summer of 1824 I shot three of them near Buffalo Creek on Lake Erie. My generous friend EDWARD HARRIS, Esq. presented me, at New York, with a young bird in autumnal plumage, from which I made the figure in the plate; and another, in a most emaciated state, was given me at Boston in the winter by my young friend JOHN BETHUNE, Esq.

Those which I procured near Lake Erie were engaged in feeding around the borders and in the shallows of a pond of small extent. When I first observed them at some distance, I thought they were Yellow-shanks (Totanus flavipes), so much did their motions resemble those of that species. Like it, this Phalarope wades in the water up to its body, picks for food right and left, turns about, and performs all its motions with vivacity and elegance. They kept closer together than the Yellow-shanks usually do, but, like them, they would for a few moments raise their wings as if apprehensive of getting into too deep water and being obliged to fly. They preferred flying to swimming on such occasions, although from the general character of the tribe one might expect otherwise. After watching them about a quarter of an hour, during which time they did not utter a single note, I fired at them when they were all close together, and killed the whole. On opening them I found their stomachs to contain small worms and fragments of very delicate shells. The birds seen at the Falls of the Ohio flew in the manner of the Common Snipe, proceeding at first in an undulating or zigzag line, but more steadily after reaching a certain elevation, when they came pretty close together, wheeled a few times, and alighted again near the same shallow pools.

Dr RICHARDSON, who found this species breeding on the Saskatchewan, says “it lays two or three eggs among the grass on the margins of small lakes: they are very obtuse at one end, taper much at the other, and have a colour intermediate between yellowish-grey and cream-yellow, interspersed with small roundish spots and a few larger blotches of umber-brown, more crowded at the obtuse end. The eggs measure sixteen lines and a half in length and eleven across.”

I observed scarcely any difference in the colouring of the sexes, the female being merely larger than the male.

PHALAROPUS WILSONII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 342.

GRAY PHALAROPE, PHALAROPUS LOBATUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ix. p. 72. pl. 73. fig. 2.

WILSON’S PHALAROPE, PHALAROPUS WILSONII, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 59. pl. 24. fig. 1. Adult; and pl. 25. fig. 1. Young.

PHALAROPUS WILSONII, WILSON’S PHALAROPE, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 405, pl. 69.

AMERICAN PHALAROPE, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 245.

Adult Male. Plate CCLIV. Fig. 1.

Bill long, very slender, flexible, flattened towards the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, the ridge flattened, the sides at the base sloping, but towards the end nearly horizontal, the edges obtuse, the tip narrow. Nasal groove linear, long; nostrils basal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle very long and extremely narrow, the sides slightly convex, the tip narrowed.

Head small, with the fore part high and rounded; eyes of moderate size. Neck rather long and slender. Body slender. Feet rather long, slender; tibia bare a considerable way above the joint; tarsus extremely compressed, narrowed before, very thin behind, covered anteriorly with numerous scutella, posteriorly with two series of scutella meeting with a sharp edge; toes slender, first very small, free, with a slight membrane beneath, second slightly shorter than fourth, third considerably longer; all scutellate above, margined on both sides with narrow, slightly lobed, crenate membranes, which are united at the base so as to form short webs, of which the outer is longer. Claws very small, compressed, arched, that of the middle toe with the inner edge sharp.

Plumage soft and blended. Feathers of the back and wings distinct. Wings long and pointed, primary quills tapering but rounded, the first longest, the second scarcely shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary quills rather short, broad, obliquely rounded, with a small tip, the inner tapering and elongated, so as nearly to equal the longest primaries when the wing is closed. Tail rather short, nearly even but with the two middle feathers longer, of twelve rounded feathers, of which the outer are incurved.

Bill black. Iris brown. Feet bluish-grey, claws black. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-grey, the hind neck and upper tail-coverts greyish-white, the top of the head ash-grey. A white line over the eye; a band of black along the lore, under the eye, and down the side of the neck, on which it becomes broader and changes into chestnut-brown, when it proceeds along the scapulars of a brownish-red colour; another brownish-red band across the wing and including part of the inner secondaries. Quills greyish-brown, the outer primaries and their coverts darker. Tail-feathers pale brownish-grey on the outer, white more or less mottled on the inner webs. Throat and cheeks white; fore neck orange-brown, fading below, and extending paler along the sides of the body; breast, abdomen and lower wing-coverts white; lower surface of wings pale grey, of tail white.

Length to end of tail 10 inches, to end of claws 11; extent of wings 17-1/2; wing from flexure 7-4/12; tail 2-2/12; bill along the back 1-7/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-8/12; bare part of tibia 3/4; tarsus 1-1/4; middle toe 1-2/12, its claw (2-1/2)/12. Weight 2-1/2 oz.

The Female, which is somewhat larger, is in colour precisely similar to the Male. Weight 3 oz.

Young in autumn. Plate CCLIV. Fig. 2.

The young bird after the first moult has the bill brownish-black, the iris brown, the feet greenish-yellow, the claws black. The upper parts are variegated with brownish-black and light greenish-yellow, the central part of each feather being of the former colour; primary quills brownish-black; tail-feathers as in the adult. The lower parts are white.

THE RED PHALAROPE.

PHALAROPUS FULICARIUS, BONAP.

PLATE CCLV. ADULT MALE AND FEMALE IN SUMMER, AND ADULT IN WINTER.

My first drawing of the Red Phalarope was made at Louisville in Kentucky, a few weeks after my removal to that place, in 1808. One afternoon, while returning from the house of my hospitable friend General CROGHAN, I observed a large flock of birds proceeding along the shores of the Ohio. They were quite unknown to me, and therefore extremely anxious I was to procure some of them. I therefore ran through the woods until I got ahead of them, went to the margin of the river, and concealed myself at some distance from them. They swam beautifully, played about, picked up substances floating on the water, now dispersed, and again came close together, until at length coming opposite to a small sand-bar stretching out from the shore to the distance of a few yards, they directed their course towards it, and waded out. When just landing, they were so close to each other that I could not withstand the temptation, and so levelled my gun, pulled both triggers, and saw that I had made considerable havock among them. Those which had not been bitten flew off in a compact body, while the birds that had been but slightly wounded made for the water, and swam away so fast that they seemed to be running on the surface. I picked up seventeen, which I found so beautiful and withal so plump, that I felt quite delighted, and resolved to shoot as many more as I could. But I did not succeed in killing more than other five that day.

I had never until then seen a Phalarope of any kind, although I had inspected some shocking figures of these elegant birds, figures so unlike the originals that even with the aid of a name printed beneath, you could not recognise them. Such of my acquaintances at Louisville as had been accustomed to shoot birds, had never seen one of this species on the Ohio, or in any part of the country. It was then and there that I made my first drawing of the Red Phalarope, which I shewed to ALEXANDER WILSON during his visit to Louisville. It being late in October, the specimens which I had procured were all in their grey livery, and proved capital eating. As I was anxious to watch the rest of the flock, which I think must have been composed of at least a hundred individuals, I went to the same place on the following afternoon. As I crossed Bear Grass Creek, near its junction with the Ohio, I observed eight or ten of them walking over the green moss on the surface of the water near the shore. Of these I succeeded in killing three. In the course of a walk of two miles along the banks of the river, I could see none; and some Blue-winged Teals happening to pass over from the stream in the direction of a pond between it and Kieger’s Ferry-house, I went in pursuit of them. Before I got up they had flown away, or had passed over without alighting. There, however, to my great joy, I found all the Phalaropes swimming along the margins and picking up the seeds of grasses. They were much less shy than when I met with them on the river, so that I soon procured eight more at a single shot. The rest rose, emitting quick sharp cries, performed a few evolutions at a considerable height, and went off to the westward.

On the 1st of September 1831, while on board the packet ship Columbia, commanded by my good friend JOSEPH DELANO, Esq. Nantucket being distant about sixty miles, we came upon an extensive bank of sea-weeds and froth, about a mile in length, which I was told was produced by the action of the tides. On this bed were hundreds of Phalaropes of this species, walking as unconcernedly as if on land. As we approached it, they rose and flew around the vessel for a few minutes, and when we had passed through we saw them re-alight.

I have not seen the Red Phalarope alive on any other occasion than those mentioned above; and I am indebted to my generous friend Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS for the beautiful specimens in summer plumage, from which the figures in the plate were taken.

None of those which I had wounded attempted to dive. When caught and held in the hand, they merely fluttered and tried to escape, like other small birds. Their flight was rapid, resembling that of the Red-backed Sandpiper, Tringa alpina, and they performed various evolutions, sometimes skimming over the water, when they kept more apart than either when rising at first, or when they reached a certain height, on attaining which they pursued their course, with alternate inclinations to either side.

According to Captain J. C. ROSS, these birds breed in great numbers far north. The eggs, of which he has favoured me with some, measure an inch and a quarter by seven-eighths; their ground colour is dull greenish-yellow, irregularly blotched and dotted with reddish-brown.

PHALAROPUS FULICARIUS, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 341.

RED PHALAROPE, PHALAROPUS HYPERBOREUS, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. ix. p. 75. pl. 74, fig. 4.

PHALAROPUS FULICARIUS, FLAT-BILLED PHALAROPE, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 407.

RED PHALAROPE, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 236.

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCLV. Fig. 1.

Bill scarcely longer than the head, straight, slender, nearly cylindrical, towards the end broader and flattened, the tip narrow. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, excepting at the end, where it is a little curved, the ridge convex, flattened at the broad part, the sides slightly sloping, the edges rounded, and near the slightly curved obtuse tip inflected. Nasal groove linear, extending to near the tip; nostrils basal, linear-elliptical. Lower mandible with the angle very long and narrow, the sides convex, the tip narrowed, obtuse.

Head small, with the fore part high and rounded; eyes small. Neck of moderate length. Body rather full. Feet rather short, slender; tibia bare a short way above the joint; tarsus much compressed, narrowed before and behind, covered anteriorly with numerous scutella; toes very slender, first extremely small, free, with a slight membrane beneath, second shorter than third, which is a little longer; all scutellate above, the anterior margined on both sides with lobed and pectinated membranes, which are united at the base, so as to render the foot nearly half-webbed, the outer web much longer than the inner. Claws very small, compressed, arched, obtuse, that of the middle toe with an inner sharp edge.

Plumage soft and slender, the feathers on the back and wings somewhat distinct. Wings long and pointed; primary quills tapering, but rounded, the first longest, the second a little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary quills rather short, obliquely truncate, the inner tapering and elongated, so as nearly to equal the longest primaries when the wing is closed. Tail of moderate length, much rounded, of twelve feathers.

Bill greenish-yellow, black at the point. Iris brown. Feet pale greyish-blue. Upper part of the head black; loral space and chin blackish-grey; sides of the head, and a band round the occiput, white. Sides and fore part of the neck, breast, abdomen, and lower tail-coverts deep orange-red. Fore part of the back, scapulars, and inner secondaries, black, the feathers edged with whitish; wing-coverts deep ash-grey; quills dark greyish-brown, their shafts and basal parts white; the ends of the secondary and primary coverts, and the basal part of the outer webs of the primaries, being white, a band of that colour is seen on the wing when it is extended. Upper tail-coverts orange-red; tail deep grey, darker towards the end, slightly tipped with reddish.

Length to end of tail 7-1/2 inches, to end of claws 6-3/4; extent of wings 13; wing from flexure 5; tail 2-3/4; bill along the back 11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-1/12; tarsus 10/12; middle toe 10/12, its claw (1-1/2)/12.

Adult Female in summer. Plate CCLV. Fig. 2.

The Female has the upper part variegated with light red and brownish-black, the central part of each feather being of the latter colour, the upper tail-coverts entirely of the former. Wings greyish-black, with a transverse white band; tail deep grey as in the male. The lower parts are of a less pure red than those of the male, being paler and tinged with grey.

Adult in winter. Plate CCLV. Fig. 3.

The winter plumage of the adult is very different in colour. The bill is nearly black, the feet as in summer. The upper part of the head, cheeks, fore part and sides of the neck, breast, abdomen, lower and upper tail-coverts, and a band across the wing, are white; a brownish-black line from the eye to the occiput, which is of the same colour, as well as the middle of the hind neck. The back, scapulars, and inner secondaries, are ash-grey, the wings as in summer.

Length to end of tail 7-1/2 inches.

BREAKING UP THE ICE.

While proceeding up the Mississippi above its junction with the Ohio, I found, to my great mortification, that its navigation was obstructed by ice. The chief conductor of my bark, who was a Canadian Frenchman, was therefore desired to take us to a place suitable for winter-quarters, which he accordingly did, bringing us into a great bend of the river called Tawapatee Bottom. The waters were unusually low, the thermometer indicated excessive cold, the earth all around was covered with snow, dark clouds were spread over the heavens, and as all appearances were unfavourable to the hope of a speedy prosecution of our voyage, we quietly set to work. Our bark, which was a large keel-boat, was moored close to the shore, the cargo was conveyed to the woods, large trees were felled over the water, and were so disposed as to keep off the pressure of the floating masses of ice. In less than two days, our stores, baggage, and ammunition, were deposited in a great heap under one of the magnificent trees of which the forest was here composed, our sails were spread over all, and a complete camp was formed in the wilderness. Every thing around us seemed dreary and dismal, and had we not been endowed with the faculty of deriving pleasure from the examination of nature, we should have made up our minds to pass the time in a state similar to that of bears during their hybernation. We soon found employment, however, for the woods were full of game; and deer, turkeys, racoons, and opossums might be seen even around our camp; while on the ice that now covered the broad stream rested flocks of swans, to surprise which the hungry wolves were at times seen to make energetic but unsuccessful efforts. It was curious to see the snow-white birds all lying flat on the ice, but keenly intent on watching the motions of their insidious enemies, until the latter advanced within the distance of a few hundred yards, when the swans, sounding their trumpet-notes of alarm, would all rise, spread out their broad wings, and after running some yards and battering the ice until the noise was echoed like thunder through the woods, rose exultingly into the air, leaving their pursuers to devise other schemes for gratifying their craving appetites.

The nights being extremely cold, we constantly kept up a large fire, formed of the best wood. Fine trees of ash and hickory were felled, cut up into logs of convenient size, and rolled into a pile, on the top of which, with the aid of twigs, a fire was kindled. There were about fifteen of us, some hunters, others trappers, and all more or less accustomed to live in the woods. At night, when all had returned from their hunting-grounds, some successful and others empty-handed, they presented a picture in the strong glare of the huge fire that illuminated the forest, which it might prove interesting to you to see, were it copied by a bold hand on canvass. Over a space of thirty yards or more, the snow was scraped away, and piled up into a circular wall, which protected us from the cold blast. Our cooking utensils formed no mean display, and before a week had elapsed, venison, turkeys, and racoons hung on the branches in profusion. Fish, too, and that of excellent quality, often graced our board, having been obtained by breaking holes in the ice of the lakes. It was observed that the opossums issued at night from holes in the banks of the river, to which they returned about day-break; and having thus discovered their retreat, we captured many of them by means of snares.

At the end of a fortnight our bread failed, and two of the party were directed to proceed across the bend, towards a village on the western bank of the Mississippi, in quest of that commodity; for although we had a kind of substitute for it in the dry white flesh of the breast of the wild turkey, bread is bread after all, and more indispensable to civilized man than any other article of food. The expedition left the camp early one morning; one of the party boasted much of his knowledge of woods, while the other said nothing, but followed. They walked on all day, and returned next morning to the camp with empty wallets. The next attempt, however, succeeded, and they brought on a sledge a barrel of flour and some potatoes. After a while, we were joined by many Indians, the observation of whose manners afforded us much amusement.

Six weeks were spent in Tawapatee Bottom. The waters had kept continually sinking, and our boat lay on her side high and dry. On both sides of the stream, the ice had broken into heaps, forming huge walls. Our pilot visited the river daily, to see what prospect there might be of a change. One night, while, excepting himself, all were sound asleep, he suddenly roused us with loud cries of “the ice is breaking! get up, get up, down to the boat lads, bring out your axes, hurry on, or we may lose her, here let us have a torch!” Starting up, as if we had been attacked by a band of savages, we ran pell-mell to the bank. The ice was indeed breaking up; it split with reports like those of heavy artillery, and as the water had suddenly risen from an overflow of the Ohio, the two streams seemed to rush against each other with violence, in consequence of which the congealed mass was broken into large fragments, some of which rose nearly erect here and there, and again fell with thundering crash, as the wounded whale, when in the agonies of death, springs up with furious force, and again plunges into the foaming waters. To our surprise, the weather, which in the evening had been calm and frosty, had become wet and blowy. The water gushed from the fissures formed in the ice, and the prospect was extremely dismal. When day dawned, a spectacle strange and fearful presented itself: the whole mass of water was violently agitated, its covering was broken into small fragments, and although not a foot of space was without ice, not a step could the most daring have ventured to make upon it. Our boat was in imminent danger, for the trees which had been placed to guard it from the ice were cut or broken into pieces, and were thrust against her. It was impossible to move her; but our pilot ordered every man to bring down great bunches of cane, which were lashed along her sides; and before these were destroyed by the ice, she was afloat and riding above it. While we were gazing on the scene, a tremendous crash was heard, which seemed to have taken place about a mile below, when suddenly the great dam of ice gave way. The current of the Mississippi had forced its way against that of the Ohio; and in less than four hours, we witnessed the complete breaking up of the ice.

During that winter, the ice was so thick on the Mississippi, that opposite St Louis, horses and heavy waggons crossed the river. Many boats had been detained in the same manner as our own, so that provisions and other necessary articles had become very scarce, and sold at a high price. This happened about twenty-eight years ago.

THE REDDISH EGRET.

ARDEA RUFESCENS, GMEL.

PLATE CCLVI. ADULT AND YOUNG.

While sailing towards the Florida Keys, my mind was agitated with anticipations of the delight I should experience in exploring a region whose productions were very imperfectly known. Often did I think of the Heron named after TITIAN PEALE, by my learned friend the Prince of Musignano. Mr PEALE had procured only a single specimen, and in the winter season, but whether or not the species was abundant on the Keys of Florida remained to be discovered. No sooner had I been landed and formed an acquaintance with Mr EGAN, the pilot of whom I have often spoken, who was well acquainted with the haunts of many of the birds of those islands, than I asked him respecting the various Herons which might be found there or on the shores of the mainland. Before answering me, he counted his fingers slowly, and then said that he could recollect only “twelve sorts;” “but,” added he, “these birds change their colours so curiously, that it is past wonder with me to believe that any one man could know them without watching them as I have done for many years.” I then inquired if I was in good time to procure all the sorts which he knew. He answered in the affirmative; but felt some doubt as to my procuring the eggs of one kind at least, which breed earlier than the rest, and was pure white from the shell, and the largest of all. Thinking the species to which he alluded might be the Ardea alba of LINNÆUS, I asked if it had long thread-like feathers over the tail during the breeding season. “Oh no, Sir,” said he, “it never has; it is as tall as yourself, and when you see some on the wing, you will be pleased, for their wings are as large as those of the Brown Pelican. The one I guess you mean, mostly goes farther to the eastward to breed, along with a very small one, also always white, with the feathers over the tail as you say, and curled upwards. These are the only three sorts that are white.” I begged him to describe the colours of the others, which he did so well that I recognised ten species in all; but the large white one, and another of a grey and purple colour, were unknown to me, and I told him so, stating at the same time how anxious I was to procure them if possible.

“If possible! nothing in the world can be more easy, for if they have no eggs left, they have young ones enough to load your schooner. I can take you straight to their breeding place.”

You may suppose, Reader, how my spirits were raised by this intelligence, and how surprised I was that PEALE’s Egret was not in the number of the Florida Herons. We speedily embarked in Mr THRUSTON’s boat, spread our sails to the breeze, and passed several keys, on which we procured two young birds of the large white species, which I saw at once was unknown to me, but of which you will find an account in this volume. As we approached the next island, I saw twenty or thirty pairs of Herons, some of which were pure white, others of a light blue colour, but so much larger than the Blue Heron, Ardea cœrulea, that I asked the pilot what they were, when he answered, “the very fellows I want to shew you, and you may soon see them close enough, as you and I will shoot a few by way of amusement.” Before half an hour had elapsed, more than a dozen were lying at my feet. Some of them were as white as driven snow, the rest of a delicate purplish tint, inclining to grey on the back and wings, with heads and necks of a curious reddish colour. Males and females there were, but they were all of one species, for my companion assured me that “this sort bred before they turned to their natural colours,” by which he meant before attaining their full plumage at the age of three years. Well, the immature birds were the very same as the individual to which, as the representative of a new species, the name of Peale’s Egret had been given. This I saw at once, for so good is the representation of it in the fourth volume of BONAPARTE’s American Ornithology, that from the mere recollection of it I was enabled to recognise the bird at once. You may imagine the pleasure I felt, as well as that which I experienced on becoming better acquainted with this species, which I found in many places both with eggs and with young.

The Reddish Egret is a constant resident on the Florida Keys, to which it is so partial at all seasons that it never leaves them. Some individuals are seen as far east as Cape Florida, and westward along the Gulf of Mexico. Whether it may ever betake itself to fresh water I cannot say, but I never found one in such a situation. It is a more plump bird for its size than most other Herons, and in this respect resembles the Night Heron and the Yellow-crowned species, but possesses all the gracefulness of the tribe to which it belongs. In walking it lifts its feet high, and proceeds at a quiet pace, but sometimes briskly; it alights with ease on trees, and walks well on the larger branches. It rarely feeds from the edges of the water, but resorts to the shallows of the extensive mud or sand flats, so numerous about the keys. There, twenty or thirty, sometimes so many as a hundred, may be seen wading up to the heel (or knee-joint as it is usually called) in pursuit of prey, or standing in silence awaiting the approach of an animal on which it feeds, when it strikes it, and immediately swallows it, if not too large; but if so, it carries it to the shore, beats it, and tears it to pieces, rarely, however, using its feet for that purpose, and certainly never employing its pectinated claws, which no Heron that I know ever uses for any other object than that of scratching its head, or perhaps of securing its steps on rocky bottoms. These birds remain on the flats thus employed, until the advance of the tide forces them to the land.

The flight of this Heron is more elevated and regular than that of the smaller species. During the love season, it is peculiarly graceful and elegant, especially when one unmated male is pursuing another, a female being in sight. They pass through the air with celerity, turn and cut about in curious curves and zigzags, the stronger bird frequently erecting its beautiful crest, and uttering its note, at the moment when it expects to give its rival a thrust. When these aërial combats take place between old and immature birds, their different colours form a striking contrast, extremely pleasing to the beholder. While travelling to and from their feeding grounds, or from one key to another, they propel themselves by easy, well-sustained, and regular flappings of their extended wings, the neck reposing on the shoulders, the legs stretched out behind like a rudder, while their beautiful thready trains float in the breeze. On approaching a landing place, they seldom fail to perform a few circumvolutions, in order to see that all around is quiet, for they are more shy and wary than the smaller Herons, and almost as suspicious as the two larger species, Ardea occidentalis, and A. Herodias; and this becomes apparent as soon as they discontinue the feeding of their young, when you find it extremely difficult to approach them. After this period I rarely shot one, unless I happened to come upon it unawares, or while it was passing over me when among the mangroves.

About the beginning of April, these Herons begin to pair. The males chase each other on the ground, as well as in the air, and on returning to their chosen females erect their crest and plumes, swell out their necks, pass and repass before them, and emit hollow rough sounds, which it is impossible for me to describe. It is curious to see a party of twenty or thirty on a sand-bar, presenting as they do a mixture of colours from pure white to the full hues of the old birds of either sex; and still more curious perhaps it is to see a purple male paying his addresses to a white female, while at hand a white male is caressing a purple female, and not far off are a pair of white, and another of purple birds. Nay, reader, until I had witnessed these remarkable circumstances, I felt some distrust respecting the statement of the worthy pilot. I am even now doubtful if all the young breed the first spring after their birth, and am more inclined to think that they do not, on account of the large flocks of white birds of this species which during the breeding time kept apart from those that had nests, but which on examination were not found to be barren birds, although they had the crests and pendent feathers less elongated than those white individuals that were actually breeding.

By the middle of April, they construct their nests, which they place for the most part on the south-western sides of the mangroves immediately bordering the keys, never on the trees at a distance from the water, and rarely very close together. Some are placed on the top branches, others a foot or two above the highest tide-mark; many of them are annually repaired, perhaps all that stand the winter gales. The nest, which is quite flat, is large for the size of the bird, and is formed of dry sticks, interspersed with grass and leaves. The eggs are three, average an inch and three quarters in length, one and three-eighths in breadth, have an elliptical form, and a smooth shell, of a uniform rather pale sea-green colour. They afford excellent eating. Both sexes incubate, but I did not ascertain the time required for hatching.

The young while yet naked are of a dark colour, there being only a few scanty tufts of long soft down on the head and other parts; but when the feathers begin to sprout they became white. Being abundantly and carefully fed, at first by regurgitation, they grow fast, and soon become noisy. When about a month old, they are fed less frequently, and the fish is merely dropt before them, or into their open throats; soon after they sit upright on the nest, with their legs extended forward, or crawl about on the branches, as all other Herons are wont to do. They are now sensible of danger, and when a boat is heard coming towards them they hide among the branches, making towards the interior of the keys, where it is extremely difficult to follow them. On one occasion, when I was desirous of procuring some of them alive, to take to Charleston, it took more than an hour to catch eight or nine of them, for they moved so fast and stealthily through the mangroves, always making for the closest and most tangled parts, that a man was obliged to keep his eyes constantly on a single individual, which it was very difficult to do, on account of the number of birds crossing each other in every direction. They do not fly until they are six or seven weeks old, and even then do not venture beyond the island on which they have been reared. In captivity, those which we had procured feed freely, and soon became tolerably docile. They were supplied with pieces of green turtle and other species of the tribe, and some of them reached Charleston in good health. One continued alive for nearly two years with my friend the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN. It was allowed to walk in the garden and poultry-yard, and ate an enormous quantity of small fish and all sorts of garbage, contenting itself, when better food was scarce, with the entrails of fowls, and even fed freely on moistened corn-meal or mush. It caught insects with great dexterity, and was very gentle and familiar, frequently going into the kitchen, where it was a great favourite. It had acquired a crest and a few of the pendent feathers of the back by the month of January, when about twenty-two months old. One cold night, it was accidentally neglected, and in the morning was found dead, having shared the fate of so many thousands of pet birds in all parts of the world. On being opened, it was found to be a male. Although I have not been able to trace the gradual changes of colour which this species undergoes, I have little doubt that it will be found to attain maturity the third spring after birth.

The Reddish Egret rarely associates with others; nor does it suffer them to nestle on the same island with itself. In this respect, it differs from all other Herons with which I am acquainted; for although the Great White Heron, A. occidentalis, has a decided antipathy to the Great Blue Heron, still it now and then allows a few to breed on the north side of its island. The present species is as strictly marine as the Great White Heron; and these are the only two that are so, for all the others feed on fresh-water fishes, not less than on those obtained in salt-water, as well as on other food of various kinds. Like all others, the Reddish Egret loses its ornaments soon after incubation, when old and young mix, and follow their occupations together. When wounded, it strikes with its bill, scratches with its claws, and, throwing itself on its back, emits its rough and harsh notes, keeping all the while its crest erected and expanded, and its feathers swelled out. Its principal food consists of fishes of various sizes, of which it consumes a great number, and of which it finds no difficulty in procuring a sufficiency, as all the waters of those portions of the Floridas that are inhabited by it are very profusely stocked. I was told that, although still plentiful in the Floridas, this species was much more so when the keys were first settled. I was present when a person killed twenty-eight in succession in about an hour, the poor birds hovering above their island in dismay, and unaware of the destructive power of their enemy.

The remarkable circumstance of this bird’s changing from white to purple will no doubt have some tendency to disconcert the systematists, who, it seems, pronounce all the birds which they name Egrets to be always white; but how much more disconcerted must they be when they see that among the Herons peculiarly so named, which they say are always coloured, the largest known to exist in the United States is pure white. It is not at present my intention to say what an Egret is, or what a Heron is; but it can no longer be denied that the presence or absence of a loose crest, floating plume, and a white colour, are insufficient for establishing essential characters separating Egrets from Herons, which in fact display the most intimate connection, the one group running into the other in an almost imperceptible gradation. Hoping that an account of the extent of the migrations of the twelve species of Heron that occur in the United States, and whose habits I have studied for many years under the most favourable circumstances, may prove acceptable, I now lay one before you, arranging the species according to size, without regard to the rank they hold in systematic works.

1. The Great White Heron. Ardea occidentalis. A constant resident on the southern keys of Florida; entirely maritime; never goes farther eastward than Cape Florida, though in winter the younger birds migrate southward, and perhaps pass beyond the extremities of the Gulf of Mexico.

2. The Great Blue Heron. Ardea Herodias. A constant resident in the Floridas; migrates throughout the Union, and as far along the Atlantic coast as the southernmost islands of the Gulf of St Lawrence in summer; breeds in all the districts, and at the approach of winter returns to the Southern States.

3. The White Heron. Ardea alba. Resident in the Floridas; migrates to the eastward sometimes as far as Massachusetts, and up the Mississippi as far as the city of Natchez; never seen far inland.

4. The Purple Heron. Ardea rufescens. Resident on the Florida Keys; entirely maritime; never seen farther eastward than Cape Florida; the young sometimes remove southward in winter.

5. The American Bittern. Ardea minor. A winter resident in the Floridas; many migrate over the greater part of the Union and beyond its northern limits; never seen in Kentucky; return before winter to the Southern States.

6. The Night Heron. Ardea Nycticorax. Resident in the Floridas; migrates eastward as far as Maine, up the Mississippi as high as Memphis; none seen in Kentucky; returns to the Southern States at the approach of winter, and occurs at the distance of a hundred miles inland.

7. The Yellow-crowned Heron. Ardea violacea. A few spend the winter in the Floridas; it rarely migrates farther eastward than New Jersey; proceeds up the Mississippi to Natchez; never goes far inland; the greatest number winter beyond the southern limits of the United States.

8. The Blue Heron. Ardea cœrulea. Resident in the Floridas; migrates eastward as far as Long Island; proceeds up the Mississippi about a hundred miles above Natchez; never goes far inland.

9. The Louisiana Heron. Ardea Ludoviciana. Resident in the Floridas; rarely seen as far east as New Jersey; seldom passes Natchez on the Mississippi; never goes far inland.

10. The White Egret. Ardea candidissima. Resident in the Floridas; migrates eastward as far as New York, up the Mississippi as far as Memphis; never goes far inland; returns to the Southern States as soon as the young are able to travel.

11. The Green Heron. Ardea virescens. Resident in the Floridas; disperses over the Union; goes far inland; the greater number return at the approach of winter to the Southern States.

12. The Least Bittern. Ardea exilis. Resident in the Floridas; migrates as far as Maine, and throughout the Western Country, far up the Missouri; returns early in autumn to the Southern States.

You will see from the above statement, that the Herons are almost similar to our Pigeons in respect to the extent of their migrations, which must appear the more remarkable on account of their comparative size, Ardea Herodias and A. virescens corresponding in a great degree to the Columba migratoria and C. carolinensis.

L’AIGRETTE ROUSSE, Buffon, Ois. vol. vii. p. 378. Pl. Enl. 902.

ARDEA RUFESCENS, Gmel. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 628.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 694.

REDDISH EGRET, Arct. Zool. vol. ii. N. 348.—Lath. Gen. Synops. vol. iii. p. 88.

PEALE’S EGRET HERON, ARDEA PEALII, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. iv. p. 96, pl. xxvi. fig. 1, the Young Bird.

Adult Male. Plate CCLVI. Fig. 1.

Bill much longer than the head, straight, compressed, tapering, the mandibles nearly equal in size. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight, the ridge broad and convex at the base, afterwards very narrow, a groove from the base to near the end, beneath which the sides are convex, the edges thin and sharp, with a notch on each side close to the narrow but obtuse tip. Nostrils basal, linear, longitudinal. Lower mandible with the angle long and extremely narrow, the dorsal line beyond it ascending and very slightly convex, the edges sharp and slightly inflected, the tip very narrow but obtuse.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck very long and slender. Body slender and compressed. Feet very long; tibia elongated and slender, its lower half bare, covered all round with angular scales; tarsus elongated, slender, compressed, covered anteriorly with numerous large scutella, laterally and behind with angular scales. Toes of moderate length, rather slender, scutellate above, reticularly granulate beneath; third toe considerably longer than the fourth, which is in nearly the same proportion longer than the second, the first much shorter, but strong; claws rather small, strong, arched, compressed, obtuse, that of hind toe much larger, the inner edge of that of the third regularly pectinated.

Space between the bill and eye, and around the latter, bare, as is the lower half of the tibia. Plumage soft, generally loose. Feathers of the upper and hind part of the head, and of the neck generally, especially on the sides and at the lower part anteriorly, much elongated very narrow, loose, with linear compact extremities. The feathers of the back are similar but broader at their base, and those from the middle of the back are so elongated as to extend several inches beyond the tail, forming a train of which the filaments are hair-like and rather stiff. Wings of moderate length; primaries broad, tapering, the inner broadly rounded, with an acumen, as are the very broad secondaries; first quill longest, second almost equal, third and fourth slightly shorter, the rest of the primaries rapidly graduated; the inner secondaries extend to nearly an inch of the tip of the wing, when the latter is closed. Tail very short, slightly rounded, of twelve rather weak rounded feathers.

Bill black on its terminal third, the rest and the bare space on the head pale flesh-colour. Iris white. Legs and feet ultramarine blue, the scutella bluish-black, as are the claws. Feathers of the head and neck light reddish-brown, tinged with lilac, the tips fading to brownish-white. Back and wings dull greyish-blue; the long feathers of the train yellowish towards the tips; all the lower parts are greyish-blue paler than that of the upper.

Length to end of tail 31 inches, to end of wings 32; to end of claws 40; extent of wings 46; wing from flexure 14-1/2; tail 4-1/2; bill along the back 4, along the edge of lower mandible 4-11/12, depth at the base 1; bare part of tibia 4-1/12; tarsus 6; middle toe 3, its claw (6-1/2)/12. Weight 1-3/4 lb.

The Female is precisely similar to the Male in colour, but is rather smaller.

Young nearly two years old. Plate CCLVI. Fig. 2.

The bill is coloured as in the adult, as is the iris, but the feet are dark olive-green, the soles greenish-yellow. The plumage presents the same form as in the adult, but is entirely pure white.

In this state the bird has been described as a distinct species under the name of Peale’s Egret Heron, but must now be restored to its proper species, the adult having been described and figured by BUFFON under the name of Aigrette rousse, and named by LATHAM the Reddish Egret.

This species may be distinguished at the first glance from all others that occur in the United States, by the peculiar form of the feathers of the head and neck, which are loose, pendent, and fringe-like, at all seasons, excepting in the young bird before the first moult.

The number of young, as in all other species, much exceeds that of adult or coloured birds; and I have procured them in the proportion of three to one. I carried upwards of fifty specimens of this Heron to Charleston, where, as well as in Philadelphia, New York, and London, I presented some to my friends and to public institutions. I also sent several to my friend P. J. SELBY, Esq. of Twizel, Northumberland, and lately gave a pair to the Museum of the University of Edinburgh. Several specimens, which I presented to His Royal Highness the DUKE of SUSSEX, have been by him given to the British Museum.

THE DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT.

PHALACROCORAX DILOPHUS.

PLATE CCLVII. MALE.

The objects that more especially attract the notice of the voyager, as he draws near the south-west coast of Labrador, are the numerous low islands covered with countless multitudes of birds, that have assembled there for the purpose of reproduction. Some miles farther, you see a ridge of craggy and desolate cliffs, emerging from the sea, and presenting the appearance of a huge granite wall. This forms a partition between the waters of the great St Lawrence and many fine harbours hidden here and there behind it, along with numerous inlets and bays, coves and small creeks, in which the bark of the adventurer may ride in comparative safety. From the hoary summit of this bulwark the view is grand beyond description; valleys richly carpeted with moss and thickets of low shrubs glow in tints of the richest green; clear blue lakes bear on their bosom numerous birds of varied wing, while around their margins the females are seated on their eggs or carefully leading about their young; banks of perennial snow arrest your eye for a moment, and perhaps produce an involuntary chill; onward towards the horizon, mountains heaped confusedly behind mountains, mingle their gloomy tints with those of the cold sky. In that land, man may for weeks, even months, seek for his kind in vain. The deep silence that reigns around him during a calm, seldom fails to bring sadness to his heart, as his eye grows dim with gazing on the wilderness. Should the northern gale issue from its snowy chambers, darkness follows in its train, and should its whole fury pour upon you, melancholy indeed must be your lot.

To the low islands above alluded to, the beautiful Cormorant represented in the plate before you, resorts each spring, for the purpose of breeding. It arrives from the south about the beginning of May, or as soon as the waters of the Gulf are sufficiently free of ice to enable it to procure food. The winter it spends on our eastern coasts, but it rarely proceeds farther south than the Capes of North Carolina, about which it meets its southern friend the Florida Cormorant, on whose dominions, however, it does not venture.

While with us, the Double-crested Cormorants are seen flying in long lines, sometimes forming angles, and passing low over the water, at no great distance from the shore. They enter our large bays, rivers and creeks, going up as far as the tide, but are seldom or never seen fishing in fresh-water. Their stay along the Middle Districts continues from the beginning of October to the middle of April; farther east they are seen a month earlier, and disappear a fortnight later. A good number breed on the Seal Islands off the Bay of Fundy, but the greater part return to Labrador and Baffin’s Bay, where Dr RICHARDSON found this species. To that excellent man and intrepid traveller, we are indebted, among other valuable fruits of his labours, for the first good description of this bird. From his account and the information which I have received from Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS, I believe that it does not go much farther north than the place where it was observed by the first mentioned traveller; and no Cormorants were seen during the late voyage to the Arctic circle. It is probable that neither the Double-crested nor the Florida Cormorants occur in any part of Europe; at least, if they have been described as birds of that quarter of the globe, I can find no account sufficiently correct to enable me to recognise them.

A few miles from one of the entrances of the Harbour of Whapatiguan, is a low and flat island about a mile in length, on which the present species breeds. As we sailed past it, we could easily observe the birds on their nests, all over the rock, which was completely white-washed with their excrement, that emitted a disagreeable odour to a great distance. I had seen several islands near the Harbour of Great Macatina inhabited by these Cormorants, but being anxious to complete the examination of one subject at a time, and knowing that we should see a greater number as we approach the Straits of Belle Isle, I put off the investigation until I should have leisure to prosecute it satisfactorily.

My son, accompanied by the captain and four sailors, sailed for Cormorant Island, on which, however, they found great difficulty in landing, for the surf broke so fearfully as to call into requisition all the judgment and good management of Mr EMERY. The moment they landed, almost all the birds of the island rose on wing, darkening the air, and alighted at some distance on the water in large bodies. They were so shy that it was not without considerable difficulty that ten of them were obtained. At the first shot, hundreds of young ones scrambled out of their nests, and huddled together in packs of fifteen or twenty. When the men approached them, they opened their bills, squeaked, hissed, and puffed in a most outrageous manner; and the noise produced by the multitudes on the island was not merely disagreeable, but really shocking. Some of the nests contained eggs, and the young were of all sizes, from the newly hatched up to those able to fly; none, however, even of the largest, attempted to gain the water, but all preferred hiding themselves in the fissures of the rocks, or behind the nests. It was curious to see them crawl flat on the rock, assisting themselves with their bill, feet and wings, employing the first in the manner of Parrots, and the wings like the oars of a boat or the flappers of turtles. When approached, they curved and twisted their necks in the most curious manner, reminding one of the writhings of a snake, and when seized they muted so profusely as to excite disgust. A dozen or more of different sizes, however, were thrust into a bag, and carried on board the vessel. The materials and dimensions of the nests were noted on the spot, and a hatful of eggs was brought to me.

The Double-crested Cormorant forms its nest of sea-weeds, some sticks, moss, and clods of earth, with grass adhering to them, which it piles up into a solid mass, often as high as three feet from the rock, with a diameter of fifteen or eighteen inches at the top, and of two and a half feet at the base. The whole has an appearance of solidity seldom seen in the nests of water-birds. The nests are placed as near each other as the nature of the ground will permit, and a great number which appeared to have stood out against the winter storms, had been enlarged and repaired that season. Many, however, lay scattered over the rocks, having been demolished by heavy gales or the breaking of the surf during tempests. The whole surface of the rock resembled a mass of putridity: feathers, broken and rotten eggs, and dead young, lay scattered over it; and I leave you to guess how such a place must smell in a calm warm day. The eggs are three or four, average two and a half inches in length by one inch and four and a half eighths in breadth, and have an elongated form. They are covered with a calcareous coating, which is more or less soiled with filth, but when carefully scraped, shews a fine light greenish-blue tint.

The young when just hatched, are of a bluish-black colour tinged with purple, and look extremely odd. They remain blind for several days, and for about a fortnight are fed by the parents with the greatest care, the food being regurgitated into their open throats. They appear to grow rapidly, for in the course of eight or ten days we found some the size of a pullet, which, when marked, were scarcely half that size. They are covered with long down of a brownish-black colour, and do not leave the nest, unless they are intruded on, until they are able to fly, when their parents, who long before had ceased to feed them by dropping the fish into their bill, and had merely placed it on the ground near them, leave them to shift for themselves. By the middle of August all these birds remove southward, along Newfoundland, by Cape Breton Island, and the shores of Nova Scotia, scarcely any remaining on the coast of the first during winter, when indeed not many are seen farther east than the Bay of Halifax.

The fishermen and eggers never gather their eggs, they being unfit for being eaten by any other animals than Gulls or Jagers; but they commit great havock among the young, which they salt for food or bait. The old birds are too shy to be killed in great numbers, otherwise their feathers, although they smell strongly of fish, might be turned to account. I have never eaten Cormorant’s flesh, and intend to refrain from tasting it until nothing better can be procured.

The flight of this species is strong and well sustained, although not so rapid as that of the Florida Cormorant. It sails at times in a beautiful manner, and at a great height above the waters. Like other species, the Double-crested Cormorants are fond of sunning themselves, with their wings spread out. They walk awkwardly, and cannot run without the aid of their wings. In order to arise from the water, in which they sink so as nearly to be covered when swimming, they are obliged to run and beat the surface for many yards, before they get fairly on wing. Their food consists of shrimps, lents, capelings, codlings, and other fishes, scarcely any kind coming amiss unless too strong or of too great a size. Of the codlings especially they devour vast numbers, they being in astonishing shoals on the coast of Labrador at the time when the Cormorants are breeding, and indeed remaining until the departure of the birds, when they retire to deeper water. I never saw a Cormorant plunge from the air after its prey, but should be much gratified by such a sight, which, if we trust compilers, is nothing uncommon; nor have I ever seen a bird of this species perched on any thing higher than the top of the low island on which the nest is placed, none having been observed by me on any of the high rocks on which the common species breeds in America.

I have given the figure of a beautiful male in its perfect spring plumage. This is probably the only representation of the bird yet presented to the public, and the same remark applies to the Florida Cormorant.

PELECANUS (CARBO) DILOPHUS, DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 473.

DOUBLE-CRESTED CORMORANT, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 483.

Adult Male at the commencement of the breeding season. Plate CCLVII.

Bill about the length of the head, rather slender, somewhat compressed, straight, with the tip curved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly concave, until near the tip, when it is curved, the ridge convex, and separated from the sides by a narrow groove, the sides erect, convex, the edges sharp and straight as far as the unguis, which is strong, convex above, incurved, acute. No external nostrils. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow towards the end, filled by an extensive membrane, which extends a short way down the throat, its dorsal line a little convex, the sides erect and convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip compressed and obliquely truncate.

Head rather small, oblong, narrowed before. Neck long and rather slender. Body full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed far behind; tibia feathered in its whole length; tarsus very short, strong, much compressed, covered all round with scales, of which the anterior and lateral are large and subhexagonal, the posterior very small and roundish. Toes all placed in the same plane, and connected by reticulated webs, covered above with very numerous oblique scutella; first toe smallest, fourth longest. Claws rather small, strong, compressed, acute.

Plumage of the head, neck, lower parts and posterior portion of the back glossy, blended and silky, of the fore part of the back and wings compact, the feathers with loose glossy margins. From behind the eye to the length of an inch and a half on each side, an elongated tuft of long slender, loose recurved feathers. Space around the eye, and to a large extent along the base of the bill, together with the small gular sac, bare. Wings rather small; primaries very strong, curved, rather narrow, tapering and obtuse, second longest, third almost equal, first longer than fourth; secondaries decurved, broad, broadly rounded, the inner narrower. Tail of moderate length, very narrow, much rounded or cuneate, of twelve narrow, rounded feathers, having extremely strong shafts.

Upper mandible dusky, along the edges greyish-yellow; lower yellow, irregularly marked with dusky towards the edges. Iris bright green, margin of eyelids, bare space on the head, and gular sac, rich orange. Feet and claws black. All the silky part of the plumage is greenish-black, at a distance appearing black, but at hand in a strong light green. The imbricated feathers of the back and wings greyish-brown, their fringe-like margins greenish-black; primary quills brownish-black; secondary like the other feathers of the wing. Tail black, the shafts of all the feathers black.

Length to end of tail 33 inches, to end of wings 29, to end of claws 33; extent of wings 51; wing from flexure 13; tail 6-3/4; bill along the back 2-8/12, along the edge of lower mandible 3-8/12; tarsus 2-7/12; outer toe 3-3/4, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 5 lb. 7 oz.

The Female is somewhat smaller, but in other respects is similar to the male.

The Young, after the first moult, have the head and neck mottled with greenish-black and greyish-brown; the other parts as in the adult, but the tufts on the head wanting.

The Double-crested and the Florida Cormorants are very nearly allied, their forms, and the structure of their plumage, being precisely similar. There is, however, a very considerable difference in size, as will be seen on comparing their measurements and average weights as given by me. The bills are similar in form, but their colours differ, as do those of the eyelids; but in the breeding season these birds may readily be distinguished by the temporary tufts or crests behind the eyes, which in P. floridanus consist of a mere line of single feathers curved downwards, while in P. dilophus they are of considerable breadth, and composed of about forty recurved feathers. In the absence of the crests, the difference in size affords the principal means of distinguishing them.

THE HUDSONIAN GODWIT.

LIMOSA HUDSONICA, SWAINS.

PLATE CCLVIII. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG FEMALE.

This species, which is of rare occurrence in any part of the United States, is scarcely ever found farther south along the coast than the State of Maryland. I had never seen it in the flesh, until I went to Boston in 1832, when I found specimens of it in the market late in September. An old gunner in my employ brought me eight or ten in the course of a month, but they were all young birds. From one of them my son drew the figure in the plate. While I was at Pictou Professor MACCULLOCH presented me with a pair of adult birds in beautiful plumage. When we were on our way towards Labrador, the fishermen and inhabitants of the Magdeleine Islands, who gave the name of Curlews to the Godwits, assured me that this species breeds there in some marshes at the extremity of the principal island, and that they were in the habit of killing them as soon as they were able to fly, when they were considered excellent food. We saw none, however, on our voyage farther north, and in Labrador and Newfoundland nobody seemed to know them.

My young friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH, who gave me, in London, several well-mounted specimens of this species, in the spring of 1835, confirmed the assertions of the people of the Magdeleine Islands, and informed me that these birds breed at times on Prince Edward’s Island, from which they spread along the coast of Nova Scotia, where they remain until very severe weather comes on, when they suddenly disappear.

I have tried to give a good figure of the adult, and that made by my son will, I hope, be considered faithful by those who are acquainted with the bird in its autumnal plumage. The adult has been represented as lying down, in order to shew the difference between this species and the Limosa melanura of Europe, to which it is allied, but from which it may readily be distinguished at all periods by the black colour of the inner wing-coverts. In the European bird these feathers are white, and the species does not occur in the United States, perhaps not in any part of North America. The females are rather larger than the males, but nothing is known respecting the nests or eggs.

SCOLOPAX HUDSONICA, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 720.

LIMOSA HUDSONICA, HUDSONIAN GODWIT, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 396.

HUDSONIAN GODWIT, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 175.

Adult Male. Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 1.

Bill double the length of the head, subcylindrical, compressed at the base, tapering to the obtuse point, which is a little enlarged, slightly recurved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly curved upwards in its whole extent, the ridge convex, the sides with a narrow groove extending almost to the point, the edges rather obtuse, the tip slightly enlarged. Nostrils basal, lateral, near the edges, small, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle very long and extremely narrow, the dorsal line slightly recurved, the sides with a narrow groove extending almost to the end, the edges rather blunt, the tip obtuse.

Head small, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long and slender. Body slender. Feet long and slender; tibia bare for about a third, anteriorly scutellate; tarsus long, slender, covered anteriorly and posteriorly with numerous scutella, laterally for a very small space reticulate; toes small, slender, scutellate above, flat beneath, broadly marginate, the anterior connected at the base by webs, of which the outer is much larger; first toe very small, second slightly shorter than fourth, third little longer. Claws small, compressed, slightly arched, obtuse, that of middle toe with the inner edge curved outwards and thin.

Plumage soft on the head, neck and lower parts blended, on the back imbricated; all the feathers oblong and rounded. Wings long, very acute, narrow; primaries tapering, the first longest, the second little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries incurved, obliquely rounded, with a recurved tip, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail short, of twelve rounded feathers, slightly forked, but with the two middle feathers a little longer than those next them.

Bill greyish-yellow, dark brown along the ridge of the upper mandible, and blackish toward the tips of both. Iris brown. Feet light greyish-blue. The head and neck brownish-grey, with darker lines; a band from the bill over the eye, and the throat greyish-white; the back deep grey; the scapulars brownish-black, with small white markings on the edges of the feathers; the smaller wing-coverts, alula, primary quills and their coverts brownish-black; the secondaries lighter, and with their inner webs pale grey; tips of the primary coverts and bases of the quills, white, as is a broad band over the rump. Tail feathers and upper tail-coverts brownish-black, their bases white, and their tips narrowly edged with brownish-white. The lower parts are bright yellowish-red, the sides mottled with dark brown; the abdomen and lower tail-coverts paler and variegated with dusky; the lower wing-coverts blackish-brown, edged with whitish.

Length to end of tail 15-3/4 inches, to end of wings 16-3/8 to end of claws 19-3/4; wing from flexure 8-1/2; tail 3-1/4; extent of wings 28; bill along the back 3-7/12; along the edge of lower mandible 3-6/12; bare part of tibia 1-1/4; tarsus 2-1/2; middle toe 1-4/12 its claw (2-1/2)/12. Weight 9 oz.

Young Female in winter. Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 2.

The bill, iris and feet, as in the adult male. Upper part of the head dusky, with darker lines; sides of the head, and the neck, greyish-yellow; a whitish band over the eye. The lower parts are pale brownish-grey, the upper brownish-grey; the fore part of the back and scapulars brownish-black, the feathers edged with light brownish-red; the wing-coverts brownish-grey; the quills as in the adult, as is the tail, anterior to which is also a broad white band.

In September 1835, I shot, near Edinburgh, a young individual of Limosa rufa, which I had previously observed for some time. It thrust its bill into the wet sand in the same manner as the Woodcocks; and I was much surprised, on taking it up, to see that its bill was perfectly straight in its whole length. When I opened it, however, in order to place a little cotton in its throat, a sudden spring-like movement of the mandibles made them curve upwards. Never having kept birds of this genus alive, I am unable to say whether the bill be naturally straight or not.

THE HORNED GREBE.

PODICEPS CORNUTUS, LINN.

PLATE CCLIX. MALE AND YOUNG.

The period at which this little Grebe makes its first appearance, after the breeding season, on the waters of the Western States, such as the Ohio, the Mississippi, and their numerous tributaries, is the beginning of October, when I have seen them arriving and passing onward on wing at a considerable height in the air, following the course of the streams. The generally received idea that birds of this genus perform their migrations on the water, is extremely absurd. I have already offered some remarks on this subject, but as too much cannot be said, when an erroneous notion extensively adopted has to be disproved, I here repeat that I have seen flocks of Grebes on wing and migrating high in the air, apparently with as much ease, as many longer-winged birds, and with considerable velocity.

Towards evening, on the 14th of October 1820, I was floating in a small boat on the Ohio. The weather was perfectly calm, and I was startled by a whistling sound over head, resembling that of a Hawk stooping on its prey, when, on looking up, I saw a flock of Grebes, about thirty in number, gliding towards the water as if about to alight within a quarter of a mile from me. In a few minutes they had come within a few yards of the surface of the water, when suddenly checking their speed, they pursued their course until out of sight; but in a short time I saw them returning towards me, and in less than a minute they all passed at a distance of forty or fifty yards, took a round and alighted pell-mell. The next moment, they were all engaged in washing and trimming themselves, in the manner of Ducks, Cormorants, and other aquatic birds. As I rowed towards them, they scarcely took notice of me, so that they were easily approached; and finding a number of them close together, I fired and killed four. The rest paddled off for some yards, rose on wing, and flew down the stream in a pretty close body, looking as if not disposed to settle again for some time. On picking up the dead birds, I found them to be of the present species, three being young, the other an adult with the winter plumage beginning to appear. Here I may remark, that Grebes in general do not moult so early as most other birds after they have young; thus the Crested Grebe often passes to the south in September, with its head still adorned with a large portion of the feathers of its spring and summer tippet. While residing at different places on the Ohio, I have many times witnessed the passage of the Horned and the Crested.

The Horned Grebe is abundant during autumn and winter on the large rivers or inlets of the Southern States, but rare along the coasts of the Middle and Eastern Districts. On the rivers about Charleston in South Carolina it is seen at those seasons in considerable numbers, although not in larger flocks than from four to seven individuals. The same is observable from that place to the mouths of the Mississippi. It is particularly fond of those streams of which the borders are overgrown by rank sedges and other plants, and are subject to the influx of the tide. In such places they enjoy greater security while searching for their food, than in ponds, to which, however, they for the most part retire at the approach of the pairing season, which commences early in February. At that time one might be apt to think that these birds could scarcely fly, as they are then rarely seen on wing; but when they are pursued, and there happens to be a breeze, they rise from the water with considerable ease, and fly to a distance of several hundred yards. In December and January I have never procured any having the least remains of their summer headdress; but by the 10th of March, when they were on their journey towards the north, the long feathers of the head were apparent. These tufts seem to attain their full development in the course of a fortnight or three weeks, the old birds becoming plumed sooner than the young, some of which leave the country in their winter dress.

On the ground, this species is not better off than the Dobchick, it being obliged to stand nearly erect, the hind part of the body resting, and the tarsi and toes extended laterally. They dive with great celerity, and when once acquainted with the effects of the gun, are not easily shot. A report is at times sufficient to make the old birds dive at once, although they may be quite beyond the reach of a shot. The young birds are more easily procured at their first appearance; but the most efficient method of obtaining them is to employ fishing nets, in the meshes of which they become entangled.

Excepting a species of Hawk nearly allied to Circus cyaneus, I know of no other bird that has the eye of such colour, the iris being externally of a vivid red, with an inner circle of white, which gives it a very singular appearance. On attentively examining the eyes of our Divers and Grebes, I have not found any with similar eyes. The Horned Grebe does not seem to see better than any other species, nor does it appear to be more diurnal than the rest, nor are the objects on which it feeds more minute, for I have found as small seeds in the stomach of the large Grebe as in that of the present species. The reason of this strange colouring of the iris, therefore, I am unable to conjecture.

Although the greater number of these birds go far northward to breed, some remain within the limits of the United States during the whole year, rearing their young on the borders of ponds, particularly in the northern parts of the State of Ohio, in the vicinity of Lake Erie. Two nests which I found were placed at a distance of about four yards from the water’s edge, on the top of broken down tussocks of rank weeds. The materials of which they were composed were of the same nature, and rudely interwoven to a height of upwards of seven inches. They were rather more than a foot in diameter at the base, the cavity only four inches across, shallow, but more neatly finished with finer plants, of which a quantity lay on the borders, and was probably used by the bird to cover the eggs when about to leave them. There were five eggs in one nest, seven in the other; all contained chicks (on the 29th of July); they measured one inch and three quarters in length, by one inch and two and a half eighths; their shell was smooth, and of a uniform yellowish cream colour, without spots or marks of any kind. The nests were not more than fifty yards apart, on the south-western side of the pond. I am thus particular because of the near relation of this bird to the Podiceps auritus of LATHAM, with which it may be confounded by a not over-careful observer, as may the eggs too, those of the latter species being precisely of the same length, but fully an eighth of an inch narrower, which of course gives them a more elongated appearance. I have observed the same differences in the eggs of these two species in Europe. I could not ascertain if both the parent birds incubate; but as I saw two pairs on the pond, I am inclined to think that they do. The nests were not fastened to the weeds around them, nor do I conceive it probable that they could be floated, as various writers assert they are at times.

I have not seen the young of this species when small; but from the knowledge I have of those of other Grebes, I feel pretty certain that the notions entertained of their being carried either on the back or under the wings of their parents in cases of danger must be erroneous, as Grebes in all such cases dive or fly at once, when it would be impossible for the old and young to keep thus attached to each other.

I have observed in the stomachs of almost all that I have examined, a quantity of hair-like substances rolled together like the pellets of owls, but have not ascertained whether or not these masses are disgorged. They certainly cannot pass through the intestines. But unless birds of this kind are kept in an aviary and watched, this matter must remain unknown. The food of this species, while on salt-water, is composed of shrimps, small fishes, and minute crustacea. While on fresh-water, they procure insects, leeches, small frogs, tadpoles, and aquatic lizards; they also pick up the seeds of grasses, and I have found as many in the stomach of an individual as would fill the shell of one of its eggs. Their flight is performed by regular short flappings, executed with great quickness.

I have represented an adult male in full spring plumage, and a young bird shot in December. The males are rather larger than the females, which are similar in colour, but rarely have the head so well feathered during the breeding season.

PODICEPS CORNUTUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 782.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 417.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 411.

HORNED GREBE, or DOBCHICK, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 254.

Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCLIX. Fig.1.

Bill shorter than the head, straight, acute, rather slender. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight for one-half of its length, towards the end declinate and slightly convex, the ridge convex, the sides sloping, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nasal groove broad, extending to beyond the middle of the mandible; nostrils subbasal, linear-elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow, the dorsal line short, ascending, straight, the sides erect, slightly convex, the edges sharp, inflected, the tip narrow, acute.

Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long and slender. Body depressed. Feet large, short, placed far behind; tibia feathered to the joint; tarsus short, extremely compressed, anteriorly with a narrow scutellate ridge, laterally with numerous broad scutella; posteriorly with a narrow ridge having a double row of small prominent scales. Hind toe very small, with an inferior small membrane; fore toes long, the outer longest, scutellate above, united at the base by short webs, externally margined, internally with broad rounded expansions, which are marked with parallel oblique lines, and crenate on the edges. Claws flattened, that of the middle toe broadest, with an extremely thin broad terminal edge.

Plumage of the head and neck very soft and downy, of the breast and sides silky and highly glossed, of the abdomen downy, of the upper parts imbricated, but with loose edges. Wings small; primaries much curved, the first longest, the second almost equal. Tail, a small tuft of loose feathers. On the head, at this season, is a tuft of soft feathers on each side behind the eye, and a larger on each side of the upper part of the neck.

Bill bluish-black, its tip yellow. Short loral space bright carmine, as is the iris, its inner margin white; edges of eyelids greyish-blue. Feet dusky externally, internally and on the anterior and posterior ridges of the tarsus dull yellow; claws dusky. Forehead greyish-brown; upper parts of the head bluish-black, as are the sides, fore neck anteriorly, and the elongated ruff feathers; a broad band over the eyes, and the elongated tufts behind them yellowish-brown. Fore neck brownish-red; lower parts white, the sides reddish-brown; abdomen dull grey. The upper parts are brownish-black, the feathers edged with greyish, the middle secondary quills white.

Length to end of tail 14-3/4, to end of claws 19; extent of wings 25-1/2; wing from flexure 5-3/4; bill along the back 11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1-1/4; tarsus 1-1/4; outer toe 1-10/12, its claw 3/12. Weight 14 oz.

Young Female in winter. Plate CCLIX. Fig. 2.

The feathers of the hind head are a little elongated, but at this age there are no tufts on the head. In other respects the plumage is as in the adult male. The bill is bluish-grey, as is the bare loral space; the eye bright carmine, the iris with an inner white edge; the feet bluish-grey. The upper part of the head, and the hind neck, are greyish-black, as are the upper parts in general. The feathers of the back edged with light grey. The throat, the sides of the head, a broad patch on each side of the neck nearly meeting behind, the breast white; the sides and downy feathers of the abdomen brownish-grey. Some of the secondaries are white, as in the adult male.

THE FORKED-TAILED PETREL.

THALASSIDROMA LEACHII, BONAP.

PLATE CCLX. MALE AND FEMALE.

Before describing the habits of this bird, I think it necessary to speak of three distinct species which are at times found near our coasts, and of which I have found two breeding within the Union. The present species is the largest; that named after WILSON the next in size; and the one called the Stormy Petrel the least. Until I had met with the whole of these species near our coast, I, like others, thought that the last mentioned kept nearer to Europe than it in reality does at certain seasons.

In August 1831, I was on board of the American packet-ship the Columbia, commanded by my friend JOSEPH DELANO, Esq. who had promised that, in case of a calm occurring, he would allow me to have a boat manned to go in search of birds. The day is not given, because I never keep a journal while crossing the Atlantic; but as I had left England on the first of the month, and was then on the banks of Newfoundland, it must have been towards the latter part of it, when the weather suddenly became quite calm and beautiful. “Mother Carey’s Chickens” were by hundreds around the noble ship, and although ill in consequence of the sickness which never leaves me at sea, I asked for a boat and some hands to row me about for an hour or so. This was granted, guns and ammunition were placed in the yawl, and my assistant Mr HENRY WARD of London, an officer, and two sailors, accompanied me. We had three guns which were alternately loaded and handed to me. In the course of about an hour twenty-five or thirty Petrels were shot, together with some Fulmars. Had you been looking on, you might perhaps have laughed at me on seeing that the moment after I fired, I was obliged to lean over the side of the bark to relieve myself from the distressing state of my stomach. On returning to the ship, my companions nimbly ascended the chains; but although when on land I am pretty firm and active, I was now quite unfit for service, and therefore was hoisted in a chair. Once on deck, I laid myself down on a mattress, my wife attended to me, and I gradually became relieved, as the ship stood, to use the words of my kind captain, “as still as if on the stocks.” There were the dead birds nicely arranged on a board by my side; the wounded ones were placed in a cage, and I began to examine them all with care. To my great surprise, I found among them all the three species mentioned above. Sixteen of these birds were beautifully prepared by Mr WARD, and the rest were placed in spirits, after I had made correct outlines of each species, and taken their exact dimensions and weight. The drawings, however, I was unable to finish on account of the giddiness, which seldom leaves me while at sea. The calm continued the whole of the next day, and, laying myself down on the top of the round-house, I had ample opportunities of observing the habits of the three species, while thus at a distance from land.

My esteemed friend the Prince of Musignano has stated that the Forked-tailed Petrel is less numerous near the American coast than the species named after WILSON. It is true that it rarely goes so far south, but in the vicinity of Massachusetts, and from thence to Newfoundland, it is by far the most abundant of the two; and it breeds on all suitable places from the Islands of Mount Desert to the last mentioned country.

The species of this genus with which I am acquainted all ramble over the seas, both by night and by day, until the breeding season commences, when they remain in their burrows, under rocks, or in their fissures, until towards sunset, when they start off in search of food, returning to their mates or young in the morning, and feeding them then. I feel pretty confident that these birds, like Owls, can hold out against hunger for many hours, and are satisfied with one abundant meal in the day. WILSON was of a different opinion, but I believe he never found these birds breeding.

The Forked-tailed Petrel emits its notes night and day, and at not very long intervals, although it is less noisy than WILSON’s Petrel. They resemble the syllables pewr-wit, pewr-wit. Its flight differs from that of the other two species, it being performed in broader wheelings, and with firmer flappings, in which respect it resembles that of the Night Hawk, Caprimulgus virginianus, while that bird is passing low over the meadows or the waters. It is more shy than the other species, and when it wheels off after having approached the stern of a ship, its wanderings are much more extended before it returns. I have never seen it fly close around a vessel, as the others are in the habit of doing, especially at the approach of night; nor do I think that it ever alights on the rigging of ships, but spends the hours of darkness either on the water, or on low rocks or islands. It also less frequently alights on the water, or pats it with its feet, probably on account of the shortness of its legs, although it frequently allows them to hang down. In this it resembles the Thalassidroma pelagica, and WILSON’s Petrel has a similar habit during calm weather. I have seen all the three species immerse their head into the water, to seize their food, and sometimes keep it longer under than I had expected.

About the first of June, the species separate, collect in numbers, and return to their breeding places. I state so from the report of persons on whose testimony I can rely, and who have assured me that, like the Guillemots, they revisit their haunts each spring for years in succession. They now fly in front of the high rocks, in the manner of our Purple Martin when it first arrives at its well known box, passing and repassing a thousand times in the day, enter their dark and narrow mansions, or stand in the passage, and emit their cries, as the bird just mentioned is wont to do on similar occasions. Now they alight on some broad shelf, and walk as if about to fall down, but with considerable ease, and at times with rapidity. Now and then the mated birds approach each other, and, I believe, disgorge some food into each other’s mouths, although I am not absolutely certain that they do so, having only observed them at such times by means of a glass. They collect grasses and pebbles, of which they form a flat nest, on which a single white egg is deposited, which measures an inch and a quarter in length, by seven-eighths in breadth, is nearly equally rounded at both ends, and looks very large for the size of the bird. When boiled, it has a musky smell, but is palatable. When you pass close to the rocks in which they are, you easily hear their shrill querulous notes; but the report of a gun silences them at once, and induces those on the ledges to betake themselves to their holes.

The Forked-tailed Petrel, like the other species, feeds chiefly on floating mollusca, small fishes, crustacea, which they pick up among the floating sea-weeds, and greasy substances, which they occasionally find around fishing-boats or ships out at sea. When seized in the hand, it ejects an oily fluid through the tubular nostrils, and sometimes disgorges a quantity of food. I could not prevail on any of those which I had caught to take food.

These birds are caught from the sterns of vessels, with long slender threads, the manner of using which I shall describe when I come to speak of WILSON’s Petrel. I never could entice one of them to swallow a hook. Very few are found on the coasts of England or Scotland, where, however, the species is said to breed.

THALASSIDROMA LEACHII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 367.

PROCELLARIA LEACHII, Temm. Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 812.

Adult Male. Plate CCLX. Fig. 1.

Bill shorter than the head, slender, straight, with the tips curved, as broad as high at the base, extremely compressed at the end. Upper mandible with the nostrils forming a tube on its ridge at the base, beyond which the dorsal line is for a short space straight, then decurved, the ridge narrow and separated from the convex sides by a narrow groove, the edges sharp, inflected, the tip compressed, incurved. Lower mandible with the angle rather long, narrow and pointed, the dorsal line beyond it decurved, the sides erect, the edges sharp, the tip decurved.

Head of ordinary size, roundish, anteriorly narrowed. Neck short. Body rather slender. Feet rather long, slender; tibia bare at its lower part; tarsus slender, reticulate all round. Hind toe minute, with a conical claw; anterior toes of moderate length, slender, scutellate above, connected by striated webs with concave margins; the third and fourth toes longest, and about equal. Claws slender, arched, compressed, acute.

Plumage very soft, blended, the feathers distinct only on the wings, which are very long; primary quills tapering but rounded, the outer four a little incurved at their extremities, the second longest, the third almost equal, the first and fourth about the same length, the rest rapidly graduated; outer secondaries incurved, obliquely rounded; inner longer, tapering, straight. Tail deeply forked, of twelve broad, rounded feathers.

Bill and feet black. Iris dark brown. The general colour of the plumage is dark greyish-brown, the quills and tail brownish-black, the smaller wing-coverts and inner secondaries light greyish-brown; the rump, sides of the abdomen, and exterior lower tail-coverts, white.

Length to end of tail 8 inches, to end of wings 8-1/2; extent of wings 18-1/2; wing from flexure 6-1/2; tail 3; bill along the back 8/12, along the edge of lower mandible 10/12; tarsus 1; middle toe 10/12, its claw (3-1/2)/12. Weight 1-5/8 oz.

The Female is exactly similar to the male.

Adult Female. Plate CCLX. Fig. 2.

A MAPLE-SUGAR CAMP.

While advancing the best way I could through the magnificent woods that cover the undulating grounds in the vicinity of the Green River in Kentucky, I was overtaken by night. With slow and cautious steps I proceeded, feeling some doubt as to my course, when the moon came forth, as if purposely to afford me her friendly light. The air I thought was uncommonly keen, and the gentle breeze that now and then shook the tops of the tall trees, more than once made me think of halting for the night, and forming a camp. At times I thought of the campaigns of my old friend DANIEL BOON, his strange adventures in these very woods, and the extraordinary walk which he performed to save his fellow-creatures at Fort Massacre from the scalping knives of the irritated Indians. Now and then a racoon or opossum, causing the fallen leaves to rustle, made me pause for a moment; and thus I was forcing my way, thinking on many things dismal as well as pleasing, when the glimmer of a distant fire suddenly roused me from my reveries, and inspired me with fresh animation. As I approached it, I observed forms of different kinds moving to and fro before it, like spectres; and ere long, bursts of laughter, shouts, and songs apprised me of some merrymaking. I thought at first that I had probably stumbled upon a camp-meeting; but I soon perceived that the mirth proceeded from a band of sugar-makers. Every man, woman, and child stared as I passed them, but all were friendly, and, without more ceremony than was needful, I walked up to the fire, at which I found two or three old women, with their husbands, attending to the kettles. Their plain dresses of Kentucky homespun were far more pleasing to my sight than the ribboned turbans of city dames, or the powdered wigs and embroidered waistcoats of antique beaux. I was heartily welcomed, and supplied with a goodly pone of bread, a plate of molasses, and some sweet potatoes.

Fatigued with my long ramble, I lay down under the lee of the smoke, and soon fell into a sound sleep. When day returned, the frost lay thick around; but the party arose cheerful and invigorated, and after performing their orisons, resumed their labour. The scenery around was most pleasing; the ground all round looked as if it had been cleared of underwood; the maples, straight and tall, seemed as if planted in rows; between them meandered several rills, which gently murmured as they hastened toward the larger stream; and as the sun dissolved the frozen dews, the few feathered songsters joined the chorus of the woodsmen’s daughters. Whenever a burst of laughter suddenly echoed through the woods, an Owl or Wild Turkey would respond to it, with a signal welcome to the young men of the party. With large ladles the sugar-makers stirred the thickening juice of the maple; pails of sap were collected from the trees and brought in by the young people; while here and there some sturdy fellow was seen first hacking a cut in a tree, and afterwards boring with an auger a hole, into which he introduced a piece of hollow cane, by which the sap was to be drained off. About half a dozen men had felled a noble yellow poplar, and sawed its great trunk into many pieces, which, after being split, they were scooping into troughs to be placed under the cane-cocks, to receive the maple juice.

Now, good Reader, should you ever chance to travel through the maple grounds that lie near the banks of that lovely stream the Green River of Kentucky, either in January or in March, or through those on the broader Monongahela in April; nay, should you find yourself by the limpid streamlets that roll down the declivities of the Pocano Mountains to join the Lehigh, and there meet with a sugar-camp, take my advice and tarry for a while. If you be on foot or on horseback, and are thirsty, you can nowhere find a more wholesome or more agreeable beverage than the juice of the maple. A man when in the Floridas may drink molasses diffused in water; in Labrador he may drink what he can get; and at New York or Philadelphia he may drink what he chooses; but in the woods a draught from the sugar-maple is delicious and most refreshing. How often, when travelling, have I quenched my thirst with the limpid juice of the receiving troughs, from which I parted with regret; nay, even my horse, I have thought, seemed to desire to linger as long as he could.

But let me endeavour to describe to you the manner in which the sugar is obtained. The trees that yield it (Acer saccharinum) are found more or less abundantly in all parts of the Union from Louisiana to Maine, growing on elevated rich grounds. An incision is made into the trunk, at a height of from two to six feet; a pipe of cane or of any other kind is thrust into the aperture; a trough is placed beneath and receives the juice, which trickles by drops, and is as limpid as the purest spring water. When all the trees of a certain space have been tapped, and the troughs filled, the people collect the juice, and pour it into large vessels. A camp has already been pitched in the midst of a grove, several iron boilers have been fixed on stone or brick supports, and the business proceeds with vigour. At times several neighbouring families join, and enjoy the labour as if it were a past-time, remaining out day and night for several weeks; for the troughs and kettles must be attended to from the moment when they are first put in requisition until the sugar is produced. The men and boys perform the most laborious part of the business, but the women and girls are not less busy.

It takes ten gallons of sap to produce a pound of fine-grained sugar; but an inferior kind in lumps, called cake-sugar, is obtained in greater quantity. When the season is far advanced, the juice will no longer grain by boiling, and only produces a syrup. I have seen maple sugar so good, that some months after it was manufactured it resembled candy; and well do I remember the time when it was an article of commerce throughout Kentucky, where, twenty-five or thirty years ago, it sold at from 6-1/4 to 12-1/2 cents per pound, according to its quality, and was daily purchased in the markets or stores.

Trees that have been thus bored rarely last many years; for the cuts and perforations made in their trunks injure their health, so that after some years of weeping they become sickly, exhibit monstrosities about their lower parts, gradually decay, and at length die. I have no doubt, however, that, with proper care, the same quantity of sap might be obtained with less injury to the trees; and it is now fully time that the farmers and land-owners should begin to look to the preservation of their sugar-maples.

THE WHOOPING CRANE.

GRUS AMERICANA, TEMM.

PLATE CCLXI. YOUNG.

The specimen from which the figure in this plate was drawn, was that mentioned at p. 209, as having been presented to me by Captain CLACK. It has already been described at p. 213. In this state, the Whooping Crane has been considered as a distinct species, to which the name of Brown or Canada Crane, Grus canadensis, has been given.

On referring to one of my journals, written on the Gulf of Mexico, I find it stated that one of these birds came on board one dark night, and, after passing the man at the helm, fell into the yawl hanging at the stern of the ship, where in the morning it was discovered and secured. Although to appearance in good health, it refused every kind of food, and in a few days died. Knowing the great power of flight of this species, I could only conjecture that some disease operating powerfully at the moment, had caused the bird to take refuge in the boat.

THE TROPIC BIRD.

PHAETON ÆTHEREUS, LINN.

PLATE CCLXII. ADULT MALE AND FEMALE.

The specimens from which the figures in the plate were taken, were obtained on the Tortugas, in the summer of 1832, by my kind friend ROBERT DAY, Esq. of the United States’ Revenue Cutter, the Marion. They were shot out of a flock of eight or ten, and were in fine condition. I have represented the Male and Female, in what I suppose to be their full summer or breeding plumage; but not having had an opportunity of studying the habits of this remarkable bird, I am unable to give any information respecting them.

PHAETON ÆTHEREUS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 219.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 893.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 409.

TROPIC BIRD, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 503.

Adult Male in summer. Plate CCLXII. Fig. 1.

Bill as long as the head, stout, very much compressed, slightly curved, tapering, acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge narrow, but rounded, the sides sloping and slightly convex at the base, nearly perpendicular towards the end, the edges sharp, irregularly broken, the tip acute. Nasal groove short, near the ridge; nostrils linear, very small. Lower mandible with the angle of moderate length, extremely narrow, the dorsal line straight and ascending, the sides erect and slightly convex, the edges sharp but irregularly serrated, the tip very acute.

Head rather large, ovate. Neck short and thick. Body rather full. Feet very short; tibia bare for a considerable space; tarsus extremely short, roundish, covered all round with small round scales; toes rather small, placed in the same place, and connected by reticulated webs; the first toe very small, the third and fourth about equal, all scutellate above. Claws small, arched, compressed, rather sharp, that of middle toe largest, with an undulated thin inner edge.

Plumage soft, blended, on the back and wings rather compact. Wings long, acute; primaries strong, tapering, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries very short, incurved, rounded, the inner longer. Tail of twelve feathers, wedge-shaped, the two middle feathers extremely elongated, narrow, and tapering.

Bill orange-red. Iris brown. Tarsi and base of toes yellow, the rest and the webs black, as are the claws. The general colour of the plumage is pale pink, or white tinged with carmine, the two middle tail feathers redder. A curved spot before the eye, and band behind it, black. A band of the same colour extends across the wing from the flexure, running narrow along the middle coverts, much enlarged on the inner secondaries and their coverts, and including the extremities of the scapulars. The outer webs, shafts, and a portion of the inner webs of the first four primary quills, are also black, and there is a spot of the same on some of the primary coverts. The shafts of the two middle tail feathers are black, excepting towards the end; and some of the long hypochondrial feathers are greyish-black in the centre.

Length to end of tail 29-1/2 inches, to end of wings 16; to end of claw 14; extent of wings 38; wing from flexure 11-1/4; tail 19-1/8; bill along the ridge 2, along the edge of lower mandible 2-3/4; tarsus 1-10/12; middle toe 1-4/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 15 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCLXII. Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the male, but is less tinged with red. The bill is yellow, the iris and feet as in the male. The tail-feathers are also less elongated.

Length to end of tail 26 inches, to end of wings 14-1/4, to end of claws 13; wing from flexure 11; tail 16; extent of wings 34; bill along the ridge 11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-1/2; tarsus 10/12; middle toe 1-4/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 12 oz.

THE CURLEW SANDPIPER.

TRINGA SUBARQUATA, TEMM.

PLATE CCLXIII. ADULT AND YOUNG.

In the course of my extensive rambles along our coasts and in the interior, I have seen only three birds of this species, all of which I have kept with care, considering the Cape Sandpiper or Pigmy Curlew as the rarest of its genus with us. It appears to resort to particular districts; two of my birds were shot at Great Egg Harbour in New Jersey, in the spring of 1829, the other on Long Island near Sandy Hook. No other birds were near them, and I approached them without much difficulty. They were wading along the shores up to the knees, picking up floating garbage and sand worms. In their stomachs I found fragments of minute shells, slender red worms, and bits of marine plants. The one killed on Long Island was a fine male in full plumage, and from it I made the figure that has been engraved in the plate. The others were females or young birds of the preceding year. One, in plain plumage, was drawn; the other, mottled beneath with patches of white and dull rufous, I considered as a female which might perhaps have perfected its colouring that season. I have seen a few specimens in New York, and two in Boston; and my friend JOHN BACHMAN has one or two in his possession.

TRINGA SUBARQUATA, Temm. Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 609.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 317.

NUMENIUS AFRICANUS, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. 712.

CAPE CURLEW OR SANDPIPER, Nuttall, Manual, p. 104.

Adult Male. Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 1.

Bill longer than the head, slender, subcylindrical, flexible, very slightly decurved, compressed at the base, the point obtuse. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first slightly sloping, then nearly straight, and towards the end slightly decurved, the ridge convex but narrow, the sides sloping, the edges rather blunt and soft. Nasal groove extending to near the tip; nostrils basal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow, the dorsal line straight, the sides nearly erect, with a long narrow groove, the tip tapering but rounded.

Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed. Eyes of moderate size. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body rather slender. Feet rather long, slender; tibia bare about a third of its length; tarsus compressed, anteriorly and posteriorly covered with numerous scutella; hind toe very small; the rest of moderate length, slender, the fourth a little longer than the second, the third longest, all free, scutellate above, flat beneath, slightly marginate; claws small, slightly arched, compressed, acute, that of third toe largest, with the inner edge slightly dilated.

Plumage very soft, blended beneath, slightly distinct above. Wings long and pointed; primaries tapering, obtuse, the first longest, the second scarcely shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; outer secondaries short, incurved, obliquely truncate, the inner web extending beyond the outer; the inner secondaries elongated, tapering. Tail rather short, slightly rounded, of twelve rounded feathers, the two middle a little longer.

Bill dark olive-green, dusky towards the point. Iris hazel. Feet light olive, claws dusky. The head, neck and breast, are bright yellowish-red, the sides whitish, the lower tail-coverts white, with a brownish-black spot towards the end. The central parts of the feathers on the upper part of the head are dark brown, and there are slight streaks of the same on the hind neck and sides of the breast. The upper parts are mottled with brownish-black and dull red, the rump pale brownish-grey, as are the smaller wing-coverts. Quills greyish-brown, the primaries dark, the outer secondaries light and tipped with white, the inner darker and glossed with green. Upper tail-coverts white, spotted with brown and red; tail pale brownish grey, glossed with green.

Length to end of tail 8-3/4 inches, to end of wings 9-2/12; extent of wings 16; wing from flexure 5; tail 2-2/12; bill along the back 1-1/2, along the edge of lower mandible 1-5/12; bare parts of tibia 1/2; tarsus 1-1/12, middle toe 1, its claw 2/12. Weight 2-1/4 oz.

Adult Female, Plate CCLXIII. Young in autumn.

The bill, iris, and feet as in the adult. On the upper parts the feathers are brown, edged with darker, and margined with greyish yellow; the lore, cheeks and sides of the neck and body are greyish-yellow, with dusky lines, a broad band from the mandible over the eye, the fore part of the neck, and the rest of the lower parts, white. Quills and tail as in the adult, but lighter.

Length to end of tail 7-3/4 inches; extent of wings 14-1/2. Weight 1-3/4 oz.

THE FULMAR PETREL.

PROCELLARIA GLACIALIS, LINN.

PLATE CCLXIV. MALE.

Though not a large bird, the Fulmar is possessed of considerable strength, and has a powerful and sustained flight. In autumn and winter it is seen on our eastern coasts, from which it retires early in summer, to betake itself to the northern retreats in which it rears its young. I have never seen it farther south than Long Island, but I have often found it on the banks of Newfoundland, and in the space intervening between them and our shores. From the beginning of September to that of May it may be said to be pretty common, especially around the banks, to which the cod-fishers resort, and where it feeds chiefly on the rejected garbage.

One calm day in August, when on a voyage from England to New York, of which I have already spoken when describing the Forked-tailed Petrel, I procured several Fulmars. They came up and alighted near the boat, whenever we threw any thing overboard, and did not seem to be in the least alarmed by the report of a gun. In one instance I shot one on the water, when it was so near that I could distinctly see the colour of its eye. A great number of them were swimming in small detached flocks of eight or ten, their colour at a distance appearing as if pure white, and contrasting beautifully with the dark blue of the sea. They floated very buoyantly, some swimming about with great ease, others to appearance sound asleep. Most of them had the wing and tail feathers ragged, and some were much soiled with greasy matter, which gave them an unpleasant appearance. Those which were caught, on being wounded, emitted quantities of oily matter by their nostrils, and disgorged much of the same substance; but did not attempt to bite, which seemed strange in birds having the bill so powerful and hooked. They fly with less grace than the Shearwaters, proceeding in a direct line, and at a small height, towards the objects on which they feed.

I was much disappointed at not finding the Fulmar along the rocky shores of Labrador, where I had expected to meet with it, as it is regularly observed in spring moving northward in files opposite the entrance of the Straits of Belle Isle. Its passage towards the Arctic Regions has been observed by Captain SABINE on the coast of Greenland. “Whilst the ships,” he says, “were detained by the ice in Jacob’s Bay, in latitude 71°, from the 24th of June to the 3d of July, Fulmars were passing in a continual stream to the northward, in numbers inferior only to the flight of the Passenger Pigeon in America.” While on my way to Labrador, I was told that they bred on the Seal Islands off the entrance of the Bay of Fundy. The egg, which is of a regular ovate form, with a smooth brittle pure white shell, measures two inches and seven-eighths in length, by two inches in breadth.

My much esteemed friend Mr SELBY, in his Illustrations of British Ornithology, gives the following account of this species. “The steep and rocky St Kilda, one of the western islands of Scotland, is the only locality within the British dominions annually resorted to by the Fulmar, the rest of the Scottish and our more southern coasts being rarely visited even by stragglers. Upon St Kilda these birds are found in vast numbers during the spring and summer months, breeding in the caverns and holes of the rocks; and, from the various uses to which the down, feathers, and oil of the young are applied, contribute essentially to the comfort of the inhabitants. They lay but one egg each, white, and of a large size, with a shell of very brittle texture. The young are hatched about the middle of June, and are fed with oil thrown up by the parents (the produce of the food upon which they subsist), and, as soon as fledged, are eagerly sought for by the natives, although often at the risk of life, in scaling the tremendous and overhanging cliffs in which they nestle. Like most of the group, these birds have the power of ejecting oil with much force through their tubular nostrils, which is used as the principal mode of defence; it becomes an essential point, therefore, that they should be taken and killed by surprise, in order to prevent the loss of a liquid so requisite for the comfort of the inhabitants, by supplying them with the necessary fuel for their lamps. The Fulmar is of voracious appetite, feeding upon all sorts of animal substance, particularly of an oily nature, such as the blubber of whales, seals, &c.; and for this purpose it follows in great numbers the track of the whale vessels, and is so greedy of its favourite food, as to be often seen alighting upon the wounded animal, when not quite dead, and immediately proceeding to break the skin with its strong hooked bill, and gorging itself with the blubber to repletion.”

The Rev. Mr SCORESBY, in his “Arctic Regions,” vol. i. p. 528, gives the following account of its habits as observed by him in the polar seas.

“The Fulmar is the constant companion of the whale-fisher. It joins his ship immediately on passing the Shetland Islands, and accompanies it through the trackless ocean to the highest accessible latitudes. It keeps an eager watch for any thing thrown overboard; the smallest particle of fatty substance can scarcely escape it. As such, a hook baited with a piece of fat meat or blubber, and towed by a long twine over the ship’s stern, is a means employed by the sailor boys for taking them. In the spring of the year, before they have glutted themselves too frequently with the fat of the whale, they may be eaten; and when cleared of the skin, and of every particle of yellow fatty substance lying beneath it, and well soaked in water, they are pretty good, particularly in ‘sea pies.’ They are remarkably easy and swift on the wing. They can fly to windward in the highest storms, and rest on the water with great composure in the most tremendous seas. But it is observed that, in heavy gales, they fly extremely low, generally skimming along by the surface of the water. The Fulmar walks awkwardly, and with the legs so bent that the feet almost touch the belly. When on ice it rests with its body on the surface, and presents its breast to the wind. Like the Duck, it sometimes turns its head backward, and conceals its bill beneath its wing.

“Fulmars are extremely greedy of the fat of the whale. Though few should be seen when a whale is about being captured, yet, as soon as the flensing process commences, they rush in from all quarters, and frequently accumulate to many thousands in number. They then occupy the greasy track of the ship; and being audaciously greedy, fearlessly advance within a few yards of the men employed in cutting up the whale. If, indeed, the fragments of fat do not float sufficiently away, they approach so near the scene of operations, that they are knocked down with boat hooks in great numbers, and sometimes taken up by the hand. The sea immediately about the ship’s stern, is sometimes so completely covered with them, that a stone can scarcely be thrown overboard, without striking one of them. When any thing is thus cast among them, those nearest the spot where it falls take the alarm, and these exciting some fear in others more remote, sometimes put a thousand of them in motion; but as, in rising into the air, they assist their wings, for the first few yards, by striking the water with their feet, there is produced by such a number of them, a loud and most singular splashing. It is highly amusing to observe the voracity with which they seize the pieces of fat that fall in their way; the size and quantity of the pieces they take at a meal; the curious chuckling noise which in their anxiety for dispatch they always make; and the jealousy with which they view, and the boldness with which they attack, any of this species that are engaged in devouring the finest morsels. They frequently glut themselves so completely, that they are unable to fly; in which case, when they are not relieved by a quantity being disgorged, they endeavour to get on the nearest piece of ice, where they rest until the advancement of digestion restores their wonted powers. Then, if opportunity admit, they return with the same gust to the banquet as before; and though numbers of the species may be killed, and allowed to float about among them, they appear unconscious of danger to themselves.

“The Fulmar never dives, but when incited to it by the appearance of a morsel of fat under water. When in close view of any men, it keeps a continual watch both on the men and its prey; having its feet continually in motion, and yet perhaps not moving at all through the water. Its boldness increases with the numbers of its species that surround it. It is a very hardy bird. Its feathers being thick it is not easily killed with a blow. Its bite, from the crookedness, strength, and sharpness of its bill, is very severe.

“When carrion is scarce, the Fulmars follow the living whale; and sometimes, by their peculiar motions, when hovering at the surface of the water, point out to the fisher the position of the animal of which he is in pursuit. They cannot make much impression on the dead whale, until some more powerful animal tears away the skin; the epidermis and rete mucosum they entirely remove, but the true skin is too tough for them to make way through it.”

PROCELLARIA GLACIALIS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 213.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 823.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 369.

FULMAR PETREL, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 330.

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCLXIV.

Bill shorter than the head, robust, straight, slightly compressed, the tip curved. Upper mandible with the nostrils on the ridge, separated only by a thin partition, covered by an elevated horny case, and opening directly forwards, the sides convex, and separated by a groove from the nasal plate, as well as from the unguis, which is remarkably strong, curved and acute, the edges sharp, inflected, and slightly curved. Lower mandible with the angle long, rather wide, acute, the sides erect but convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the very short dorsal line ascending and slightly concave, the edges decurved at the end.

Head rather large, ovate. Neck rather short. Body full. Feet of moderate length, stout; tibia bare for a short space below; tarsus a little compressed, rather sharp before, covered all round with reticular scales, of which those on the anterior and posterior ridges are much smaller. Hind toe a slight prominence, with a conical obtuse claw; the fore toes long, slender, scutellate above, connected by striated entire webs, the fourth a little longer than the third, the second not much shorter. Claws rather small, arched, compressed, rather acute, that of third toe with an inner thin edge.

Plumage free, close, elastic, blended; on the back and wings the feathers rather distinct. Wings long; primary quills rather broad, tapering, acuminate, the first longest, the rest graduated; secondary broad and rounded. Tail rather short, slightly rounded, of twelve broad, rounded feathers.

Bill, iris, and feet yellow, the latter tinged with green. The head, neck and lower parts, are pure white; the back and wings light greyish-blue, the rump paler, the tail bluish-white; the primary quills and their coverts blackish-brown.

Length to end of tail 16-1/2 inches, to end of wings 17-3/4, to end of claws 11-1/4; extent of wings 30; wing from flexure 13; tail 4-1/4; bill along the back 1-10/12, along the edge of lower mandible 2-2/12; tarsus 2; outer toe 1-8/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb. 4 oz.

The Female is similar to the Male.

THE BUFF-BREASTED SANDPIPER.

TRINGA RUFESCENS, VIEILL.

PLATE CCLXV. MALE AND FEMALE.

It is a curious fact that although this beautiful bird is by no means rare, at particular periods, along the shores of our Eastern Districts, it remained unknown to WILSON, BONAPARTE, and, until found in England by Mr YARRELL, to myself. It was first discovered by VIEILLOT in Louisiana, where, however, I never met with it. My friend NUTTALL, who has also described it, states that it is often seen near Boston, in company with the Pectoral Sandpiper, and is not uncommon in the market there. To my friend Mr YARRELL I am indebted for the use of his specimen, from which I made the figure in the act of starting on wing. The other figure was taken from an American specimen, procured at Boston, and now in my possession. I regret, however, that I can say nothing respecting the habits or haunts of this bird, farther than that having seen a wing of it in the possession of my friend Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS, I think it probable that it breeds near the Arctic circle, as he received a wing from the sailors, who had found it in the course of one of the numerous inland excursions in the desolate regions from which these intrepid navigators have recently returned.

TRINGA RUFESCENS, LE TRINGA ROUSSATRE, Vieill. Nouv. Dict. d’Hist. Nat.—Yarrell, in Linn. Trans. vol. xvi. p. 109. pl. 11.

BUFF-BREASTED TRINGA, TRINGA RUFESCENS, Selby, Illustr. vol. ii. p. 142. pl. 27. fig. 4.

BUFF-BREASTED SANDPIPER, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 113.

Adult Male. Plate CCLXV. Fig. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, slender, subcylindrical, very slightly decurved, compressed at the base, the point rather depressed and obtuse. Upper mandible with the dorsal line very slightly decurved towards the end, the ridge convex, the sides sloping, the edges rather blunt and soft. Nasal groove extending to near the tip, nostrils basal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow, the dorsal line straight, the sides sloping outwards, with a long narrow groove, the tip a little broader, but tapering.

Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed. Eyes rather large. Neck of moderate length. Body rather slender. Feet rather long, slender; tibia bare a third part of its length; tarsus compressed, anteriorly and posteriorly with numerous small scutella; hind toe very small; the rest of moderate length, slender, the fourth slightly longer than the second, the third longest; all free, scutellate above, flat beneath, slightly marginate; claws rather small, slightly arched, compressed, rather obtuse, that of the third toe much larger, with the inner edge dilated.

Plumage very soft, blended on the lower parts, the feathers rather distinct above. Wings very long, pointed; primaries tapering, obtuse, the first longest, the second almost equal, the rest rapidly graduated; outer secondaries slightly incurved, narrow, very obliquely sinuate on the outer web towards the end, the inner web rounded, and extending beyond the outer; inner secondaries very narrow, tapering, acute, reaching, when the wing is closed, to within half an inch of its tip. Tail of moderate length, nearly even, with the two middle feathers exceeding the rest, and having the shaft projecting, of twelve narrow, rounded feathers.

Bill dull olive-green, dusky towards the point. Iris hazel. Feet dull yellowish-green, claws dusky. The general colour of the upper parts is greyish-yellow, each feather blackish-brown in the centre; wing-coverts lighter; quills and their coverts light greyish-brown, greenish-black at the end, but with a whitish tip, the inner webs whitish in the greater part of their breadth, and beautifully dotted with black in undulating lines; the inner secondaries like the feathers of the back. The two middle tail-feathers greyish-brown, dark-brown glossed with green at the end, and slightly margined and tipped with white, the rest gradually paler to the outer, margined and tipped with white, within which are two lines of blackish-brown. Sides of the head, fore neck, and sides light yellowish-red, the throat paler, the sides of the neck and body spotted with brownish-black; the rest of the lower parts paler and unspotted. The lower wing-coverts are white, those near the edge of the wing black in the centre, the primary coverts dotted with black, and having a spot of the same near the end.

Length to end of tail 8 inches, to end of wings 8-9/12; extent of wings 18; wing from flexure 5-3/4; tail 2-11/12; bill along the ridge (10-1/2)/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1; bare part of tibia 7/12; tarsus 1-4/12, middle toe 10/12, its claw (2-1/2)/12. Weight 2-1/2 oz.

Adult Female. Plate CCLXV. Fig. 2.

The Female is somewhat larger than the male, which it resembles in colour, but has the lower parts paler, and the feathers of the upper parts of a lighter brown, with an inner margin of brownish-black and an outer of greyish-yellow.

THE OPOSSUM.

This singular animal is found more or less abundant in most parts of the Southern, Western, and Middle States of the Union. It is the Didelphis virginiana of PENNANT, HARLAN, and other authors who have given some account of its habits; but as none of them, so far as I know, have illustrated its propensity to dissimulate, and as I have had opportunities of observing its manners, I trust that a few particulars of its biography will prove amusing.

The opossum is fond of secluding itself during the day, although it by no means confines its predatory rangings to the night. Like many other quadrupeds which feed principally on flesh, it is also both frugivorous and herbivorous, and, when very hard pressed by hunger, it seizes various kinds of insects and reptiles. Its gait, while travelling, and at a time when it supposes itself unobserved, is altogether ambling: in other words, it, like a young foal, moves the two legs of one side forward at once. The Newfoundland dog manifests a similar propensity. Having a constitution as hardy as that of the most northern animals, it stands the coldest weather, and does not hybernate, although its covering of fur and hair may be said to be comparatively scanty even during winter. The defect, however, seems to be compensated by a skin of considerable thickness, and a general subcutaneous layer of fat. Its movements are usually rather slow, and as it walks or ambles along, its curious prehensile tail is carried just above the ground, its rounded ears are directed forward, and at almost every step its pointed nose is applied to the objects beneath it in order to discover what sort of creatures may have crossed its path. Methinks I see one at this moment slowly and cautiously trudging over the melting snows by the side of an unfrequented pond, nosing as it goes for the fare its ravenous appetite prefers. Now it has come upon the fresh track of a grouse or hare, and it raises its snout and snuffs the keen air. At length it has decided on its course, and it speeds onward at the rate of a man’s ordinary walk. It stops and seems at a loss in what direction to go, for the object of its pursuit has either taken a considerable leap, or has cut backwards before the opossum entered its track. It raises itself up, stands for a while on its hind feet, looks around, snuffs the air again, and then proceeds; but now, at the foot of a noble tree, it comes to a full stand. It walks round the base of the huge trunk, over the snow-covered roots, and among them finds an aperture, which it at once enters. Several minutes elapse, when it re-appears, dragging along a squirrel already deprived of life, with which in its mouth it begins to ascend the tree. Slowly it climbs. The first fork does not seem to suit it, for perhaps it thinks it might there be too openly exposed to the view of some wily foe, and so it proceeds, until it gains a cluster of branches intertwined with grape-vines, and there composing itself, it twists its tail round one of the twigs, and with its sharp teeth demolishes the unlucky squirrel, which it holds all the while with its fore paws.

The pleasant days of spring have arrived, and the trees vigorously shoot forth their buds; but the opossum is almost bare, and seems nearly exhausted by hunger. It visits the margins of creeks, and is pleased to see the young frogs, which afford it a tolerable repast. Gradually the poke-berry and the nettle shoot up, and on their tender and juicy stems it gladly feeds. The matin calls of the Wild Turkey Cock delight the ear of the cunning creature, for it well knows that it will soon hear the female, and trace her to her nest, when it will suck the eggs with delight. Travelling through the woods, perhaps on the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, it hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it remembers the savoury food on which it regaled itself last summer in the neighbouring farm-yard. With great care, however, it advances, and at last conceals itself in the very hen-house.

Honest farmer! why did you kill so many crows last winter? aye, and ravens too? Well, you have had your own way of it; but now hie to the village and procure a store of ammunition, clean your rusty gun, set your traps, and teach your lazy curs to watch the opossum. There it comes! The sun is scarcely down, but the appetite of the prowler is keen; hear the screams of one of your best chickens that has been seized by him! The cunning beast is off with it, and nothing now can be done, unless you stand there to watch the fox or the owl, now exulting in the thought that you have killed their enemy and your own friend, the poor crow. That precious hen under which you last week placed a dozen eggs or so, is now deprived of them. The opossum, notwithstanding her angry outcries and rufflings of feathers, has removed them one by one; and now, look at the poor bird as she moves across your yard; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for she scratches here and there, calling to her chickens all the while. All this comes from your shooting crows. Had you been more merciful or more prudent, the opossum might have been kept within the woods, where it would have been satisfied with a squirrel, a young hare, the eggs of a Turkey, or the grapes that so profusely adorn the boughs of our forest trees. But I talk to you in vain.

There cannot be a better exemplification of maternal tenderness than the female oppossum. Just peep into that curious sack in which the young are concealed, each attached to a teat. The kind mother not only nourishes them with care, but preserves them from their enemies; she moves with them as the shark does with its progeny, and now, aloft on the tulip tree, she hides among the thick foliage. By the end of two months they begin to shift for themselves; each has been taught its particular lesson, and must now practise it.

But suppose the farmer has surprised an Opossum in the act of killing one of his best fowls. His angry feelings urge him to kick the poor beast, which, conscious of its inability to resist, rolls off like a ball. The more the farmer rages, the more reluctant is the animal to manifest resentment; at last there it lies, not dead, but exhausted, its jaws open, its tongue extended, its eye dimmed; and there it would lie until the bottle-fly should come to deposit its eggs, did not its tormentor at length walk off. “Surely,” says he to himself, “the beast must be dead.” But no, reader, it is only “’possuming,” and no sooner has its enemy withdrawn, than it gradually gets on its legs, and once more makes for the woods.

Once, while descending the Mississippi, in a sluggish flat-bottomed boat, expressly for the purpose of studying those objects of nature more nearly connected with my favourite pursuits, I chanced to meet with two well-grown Opossums, and brought them alive to the “ark.” The poor things were placed on the roof or deck, and were immediately assailed by the crew, when, following their natural instinct, they lay as if quite dead. An experiment was suggested, and both were thrown overboard. On striking the water, and for a few moments after, neither evinced the least disposition to move; but finding their situation desperate, they began to swim towards our uncouth rudder, which was formed of a long slender tree, extending from the middle of the boat thirty feet beyond its stern. They both got upon it, were taken up, and afterwards let loose in their native woods.

In the year 1829, I was in a portion of Lower Louisiana, where the Opossum abounds at all seasons, and having been asked by the President and the Secretary of the Zoological Society of London, to forward live animals of this species to them, I offered a price a little above the common, and soon found myself plentifully supplied, twenty-five having been brought to me. I found them excessively voracious, and not less cowardly. They were put into a large box, with a great quantity of food, and conveyed to a steamer bound for New Orleans. Two days afterwards, I went to the city, to see about sending them off to Europe; but, to my surprise, I found that the old males had destroyed the younger ones, and eaten off their heads, and that only sixteen remained alive. A separate box was purchased for each, and some time after they reached my friends the RATHBONES of Liverpool, who, with their usual attention, sent them off to London, where, on my return, I saw a good number of them in the Zoological Gardens.

This animal is fond of grapes, of which a species now bears its name. Persimons are greedily eaten by it, and in severe weather I have observed it eating lichens. Fowls of every kind, and quadrupeds less powerful than itself, are also its habitual prey.

The flesh of the Opossum resembles that of a young pig, and would perhaps be as highly prized, were it not for the prejudice generally entertained against it. Some “very particular” persons, to my knowledge, have pronounced it excellent eating. After cleaning its body, suspend it for a whole week in the frosty air, for it is not eaten in summer; then place it on a heap of hot wood embers; sprinkle it when cooked with gunpowder; and now tell me, good reader, does it not equal the famed Canvas-back Duck? Should you visit any of our markets, you may see it there in company with the best game.

THE COMMON CORMORANT.

PHALACROCORAX CARBO, DUMONT.

PLATE CCLXVI. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

Look at the birds before you, and mark the affectionate glance of the mother, as she stands beside her beloved younglings! I wish you could have witnessed the actions of such groups as I did while in Labrador. Methinks I still see the high rolling billows of the St Lawrence breaking in foaming masses against the huge cliffs, on the shelves of which the Cormorant places its nest. I lie flat on the edge of the precipice some hundred feet above the turbulent waters, and now crawling along with all care, I find myself only a few yards above the spot on which the parent bird and her young are fondling each other, quite unconscious of my being near. How delighted I am to witness their affectionate gratulations, hear their lisping notes, mark the tremulous motions of their expanded throats, and the curious vacillations of their heads and necks! The kind mother gently caresses each alternately with her bill; the little ones draw nearer to her, and, as if anxious to evince their gratitude, rub their heads against hers. How pleasing all this is to me! But at this moment the mother accidentally looks upward, her keen eye has met mine, she utters a croak, spreads her sable wings, and in terror launches into the air, leaving her brood at my mercy. Far and near, above and beneath me, the anxious parent passes and repasses; her flight is now unnatural, and she seems crippled, for she would fain perform those actions in the air, which other birds perform on the ground or on the water, in such distressing moments of anxiety for the fate of their beloved young. Her many neighbours, all as suspicious as herself, well understand the meaning of her mode of flight, and one after another take to wing, so that the air is in a manner blackened with them. Some fly far over the waters, others glide along the face of the bold rock, but none that have observed me realight, and how many of those there are I am pretty certain, as the greater number follow in the track of the one most concerned. Meanwhile the little ones, in their great alarm, have crawled into a recess, and there they are huddled together. I have witnessed their pleasures and their terrors, and now, crawling backwards, I leave them to resume their ordinary state of peaceful security.

It was on the 3d of July 1833, about three in the morning, that I had the pleasure of witnessing the scene described above. I was aware before that a colony of Cormorants had nestled on the ledges of the great rocky wall that separated our harbour of Whapatiguan from the waters of the Gulf of St Lawrence. A strong gale had ruffled the sea, and the waves dashed with extreme violence against the rocks, to which circumstance, I believe, was owing my having remained a while unseen and unheard so near the birds, which were not more than four or five yards below me. The mother fondled and nursed her young with all possible tenderness, disgorged some food into the mouth of each, and coaxed them with her bill and wings. The little ones seemed very happy, billed with their mother, and caressed her about the breast. When the parent bird flew off on observing me, the young seemed quite frightened, squatted at once on their broad nest, and then crawled with the aid of their bills until they reached a recess where they remained concealed.

On another occasion, my young friends LINCOLN and COOLEDGE, along with my son, went to the same rocks, for the purpose of bringing me a nest and some of the young Cormorants. They reported that, in one instance, they surprised the parent birds close beneath them, apparently asleep, resting on their rumps in an upright position, with the head thrust under the wing, and that, had they had a noose attached to their poles, they might have secured at least one of them, but that after a few minutes one drew out her head, stretched her neck, and after looking around flew off croaking, so as to alarm all her neighbours.

We saw no nests of this species placed in any other situations than the highest shelves of the precipitous rocks fronting the water and having a southern exposure. No other Cormorants bred on the spots of which this kind had taken possession; but Ravens and Peregrine Falcons were observed to have nests on the same rocks, and in some instances close to them. The nests were formed of a quantity of small dry sticks, matted in a rude manner with a large quantity of weeds and moss, to a thickness of four or five inches in new nests, and in others to that of a foot or more; for we observed that this species, as well as the Double-crested and the Florida Cormorants, repair and enlarge their tenements each season, and return to the same rocks many years in succession, as was shewn by their places of resort remaining whitewashed with excrements through the winter, in which condition we saw them previous to the arrival of the birds that season. The nests varied in breadth according to the space on which they were placed; where there was ample room, they measured at the base from thirty to thirty-six inches in diameter; others were scarcely large enough to hold the young, which nevertheless seemed as contented as their neighbours. On some shelves, eight or ten yards in extent, the nests were crowded together; but more usually they were placed apart on every secure place without any order; none, however, were below a certain height on the rocks, nor were there any on the summit. The nests being covered with filth, were offensive to the eye, and still more so to the nose. The eggs, three or four in number, more frequently the former, average two inches and five-eighths in length, by one inch and three quarters in breadth, the shell of a uniform pale bluish-green colour, mostly coated over with calcareous matter.

The young are at first of a dark purplish livid colour, and have a very uncouth appearance, their legs and feet seeming enormous. In less than a fortnight they become covered on all the upper parts with brownish-black down, but the abdomen remains bare much longer than the rest. They increase rapidly in size, and are fledged in six or seven weeks. Some that were weighed when about a month old, averaged three pounds, and others almost able to fly six pounds, the young of this species, as of most water birds, being much heavier than the parent at the time of leaving the nest. We procured several of different sizes, which we kept on the deck. Whenever a person approached them, they raised their heads, stretched their necks, and opened their bills, so as to expand the skin of the throat, which they made to vibrate, while they uttered a sort of hissing mutter of a very strange character, but resembling that of the young of the Brown Pelican. They crawled sluggishly about, aiding themselves in their progress with their bills, and at all times looked extremely clumsy. They took food very readily, ate a prodigious quantity, certainly more than their own weight each day, and appeared always ready to receive more. When thrown overboard, they swam off under water, like the old birds, with considerable speed, moving their unfledged wings all the while. Some would not rise for twenty or thirty yards, but few went farther under water than that distance, and they were soon fatigued. On one occasion, some half-grown young birds threw themselves from their nest, or were pushed off by their parents while in the agonies of death, they having been shot at. As they passed quickly downwards through the air, they moved their wings with great rapidity, and the instant they reached the water they disappeared beneath the surface.

This Cormorant swims at times with astonishing speed, keeping itself deeply immersed. Now and then, should it apprehend danger, it sinks so far as to shew only the head and neck, in the manner of the Anhinga. When searching for food in clear shallow water, they frequently swim with the rump rather elevated, and the head under, in the manner of the Shoveller Duck on such occasions, as if they were looking for prey on the bottom; but I never observed them act thus when the depth of water exceeded a few yards. They secure their prey by diving and pursuing it under water, with the wings partially extended and employed as paddles, while the tail directs their course, and checks or accelerates their speed. I have observed this in the Florida Cormorant, as well as in the present species. I never saw one while flying plunge after its prey; but I have repeatedly seen them drop from a rock headlong into the sea when shot at for the purpose of observing their actions.

Cormorants, Pelicans, Ducks, and other water birds of various kinds, are, like land birds, at times infested with insects which lodge near the roots of their feathers; and to clear themselves of this vermin, they beat up the water about them by flapping their wings, their feathers being all the while ruffled up, and rub or scratch themselves with their feet and claws, much in the same manner as Turkeys and most land birds act, when scattering up the dry warm earth or sand over them. The water birds after thus cleansing themselves remove, if perchers, and able to fly, to the branches of trees, spread out their wings and tail in the sun, and after a while dress their plumage. Those which are not perchers, or whose wings are too wet, swim to the shores, or to such banks or rocks as are above water, and there perform the same process. The Florida Cormorant is especially addicted to this practice, and dives and plumes itself several times in the day. The Double-crested and the present species, which inhabit colder regions, seem to be satisfied with less frequent trimming, and go through the operation only once a-day, at the warmest period. I never observed any of these birds in their natural free state perform these actions in rainy or even cloudy weather, but have frequently seen Cormorants in a state of captivity do so on small artificial ponds, such as those of the London Zoological Gardens.

When they have landed after cleansing themselves by washing, they usually extend their wings, and flap them for a while, in the manner of young birds of any kind when trying the strength of their wings before leaving the nest. They are extremely regular in returning to the same places to roost, at the approach of night, when hundreds appear to congregate on their way there, as they pass over the different fishing grounds. Those that have no broods, spend the night apart from the rest, standing nearly erect in files on the most elevated shelves, to which they ascend in the manner of some Hawks, when about to perch on any elevated spot. In winter, however, I observed some near Boston roosting singly, and immediately over their fishing places, which are usually the eddies under the projecting points of rocky islands. They are shy and wary at all periods; but when congregated in the day, it is almost impossible to approach them while fishing, for they dive and return to the surface one after another, so that one or more are constantly on the watch, and act as sentinels. It is in general quite useless to pursue one that has been wounded.

The flight of this species is strong, swift, and remarkably sustained. They usually fly in long strings, now and then forming angles, at a moderate elevation in the air. When on the rocks, they stand erect on their rump, with the neck gracefully curved, and resting between the shoulders. You may see them in hundreds, when they look like a crowd of black dominoes. If alarmed, they extend their neck to its full length, and move their head sideways to observe your motions; and if you approach them, they gradually raise and extend their wings, elevate the tail, incline the body forwards, and fly off in silence.

All our Cormorants feed principally on fish of various kinds. When they have seized one that is too large to be swallowed entire, they carry it to the shore, or to the branch of a tree, and there thrash and tear it to pieces. Some fishes which they have swallowed evidently incommode them, and on such occasions I have sometimes seen them shake their heads with great violence, and disgorge the fish, or pass it downwards into the stomach. The young ones which we kept several weeks at Labrador, performed both actions, but generally the first. All the species are expert at tossing up a fish inconveniently caught, a foot or so above their head, and receiving it in their extended gullet, in the same manner as the Frigate Pelican, of which an account will be given in the present volume. Some which I have observed in a domesticated state, were so expert at receiving a fish thrown to them from the distance of several yards, by a sudden and precise movement of the neck and head, as seldom to miss one in a dozen.

The courtship of this species is so similar to that of the Florida Cormorant, that I consider it unnecessary to describe it, as I should merely repeat what has been said with respect to that species. I have seen them act in the same manner, both on the shelves on which the nests were placed, and on the water. They begin to lay about the first of June, on the islands near the Bay of Fundy, about a fortnight later in Labrador, and it is my opinion that the younger birds spend their breeding season in the former places.

The Common Cormorant walks in a waddling and awkward manner, but at a good pace, and leaps from one stone to another, assisting itself with its wings, and occasionally with the tail, which acts as a kind of spring. I am unable to say at what age this species attains the full dress of the love season, but it cannot be in less than three years, as some which I have known to have been kept in a state of constant captivity, did not shew the white patch on the thigh, nor the slender white feathers around the head and part of the neck, until the middle of May, in the fifth year. That the younger birds of this and other Cormorants, breed before they have acquired the full beauty of their plumage, is a fact which I have had many opportunities of ascertaining. The Common Cormorant is found breeding, both near the entrance of the Bay of Fundy, and along the coast of Labrador, in flocks of fifty or more pairs, of which not an individual shews any white unless on the sides of the head, and along the throat, but much duller on these parts than even in the female represented in the plate, which was yet what may be termed an immature bird. No differences appear in the garb of the sexes, in their different states of plumage, and perfect specimens of both are equally beautiful in the breeding season, being then similar to the male of which I have endeavoured to present a good portrait. I have observed a greater difference in size between individuals of this species, than those of any other.

The white markings observed on the old birds of this species, during the period of courtship, incubation, and rearing of the young until they are able to fly, and which extends to two months and a half, begin to disappear from the moment incubation has fairly begun, and at the time when the young leave the nest scarcely any remain, unless on the sides of the head. In autumn and winter the feathers of the head are similar to those of the neck, and the plumage in general has lost much of its vernal and æstival beauty. The entire crest also falls off in autumn. The white markings and the crest are renewed in the wild state about the end of February; but in birds kept in domestication rarely before May. The young do not exhibit the crest until the second spring, at which period, being yet destitute of white markings on the head and thighs, they might readily be mistaken for a different species, by a person unacquainted with their habits.

The singular fact that the young of the three species of Cormorant described in this volume, have open nostrils until they are nearly half-grown, may surprise you as much as it surprised me. Having observed it in many individuals, I preserved one in spirits, and of it you will find a description beneath.

The Common Cormorant is rarely seen farther south than the extreme limits of Maryland; but from Chesapeake Bay eastward, it becomes more plentiful; and in severe winters, I have seen it exposed for sale in the New York market. They are abundant in winter around the islands of the Bay of Boston, and on the coasts of Massachusetts and Maine, where most of them remain during autumn, winter, and the early part of spring, as well as on the Bay of Fundy and along the shores of Nova Scotia. I am unable to say how far north they go beyond Labrador, to breed, or what may be the limits of their range on the St Lawrence in autumn. I have never seen one on a tree, or on fresh water. The flesh of this species is dark, tough, and fishy, its eggs also do not furnish agreeable food, and it is seldom that either are eaten, even by epicures.

PELECANUS CARBO, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 216.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 886.

PHALACROCORAX CARBO, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 402.

CORMORANT, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 479.

Adult Male in March. Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, rather slender, somewhat compressed, straight, with the tip curved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line sloping and slightly concave, at the tip decurved, its ridge broad and rounded, and separated from the sides by a narrow groove, the sides erect, irregularly scaly, convex, the edges sharp and straight as far as the unguis, at the base a distinct horny plate, the unguis strong, convex above, incurved, acute. No external nostrils when full-grown. Lower mandible with the angle long and very narrow towards the end, filled by an extensible membrane, which extends a short way down the throat, its short dorsal line a little convex, then concave, the sides scaly, erect, and slightly convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip compressed and obliquely truncate.

Head rather large, oblong, narrowed before. Neck long and stout. Body rather full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed far behind; tibia feathered in its whole length; tarsus very short, strong, much compressed, covered all round with scales, of which the outer are subhexagonal. the inner transversely elongated, the posterior very small and roundish. Toes all placed in the same plane, and connected by reticulated webs, covered above with very numerous oblique scutella; first toe smallest, fourth longest. Claws strong, curved, compressed, acute, that of the third toe pectinated on its inner edge.

Plumage of the head, neck, lower parts, and posterior portion of the back, glossy, blended, and silky; of the fore part of the back and wings compact, the feathers with loose glossy margins. The middle feathers of the occiput and hind neck are elongated, and those of the head and upper neck are intermixed with numerous linear feathers of a different colour, and erectile at will. Space around the eye, and to a large extent along the base of the bill, together with the small gular sac, bare. Wings rather small; primaries very strong, curved, rather narrow, tapering and obtuse, third longest, second almost as long, first little shorter; secondaries decurved, broad, broadly rounded, the inner broad and shorter. Tail small, much rounded, of fourteen narrow, rounded feathers, having extremely long shafts.

Upper mandible greyish-black, along the edges yellowish-white; lower yellowish-white at the base, dusky towards the end. Iris light bluish-green, margins of eyelids dusky. Bare space about the eye dull olive, below it bright red, the gular sac yellow. Feet and claws greyish-black. All the silky part of the plumage is black, glossed with deep greenish-blue; at the base of the gular sac is a broad gorgelet of white, and the linear interspersed feathers over the head and upper neck are white, there is also a large parcel of elongated white feathers on the side over the thigh. The feathers of the wings and part of the back are dull bluish-grey glossed with bronze, their fringe-like margins greenish-black. Primary quills greyish-black, secondary like the other feathers of the wing. Tail greyish-black. The shafts of all the feathers are black at the end, leaden-grey towards the base.

Length to end of tail 37 inches, to end of claws 36; to end of wings 32; extent of wings 62; wing from flexure 14; tail 6-1/2; bill along the ridge 3-5/12, along the edge of lower mandible 4-2/12; tarsus 2-1/4; outer toe 3-7/12, its claw (6-1/2)/12. Weight 7-1/2 lb.

Female in July. Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 2.

The Female when old is similar to the male. In the state here represented, the plumage in general is similar, but the white feathers of the head and thighs are wanting. The bill, eyes and feet are coloured as in the male, as are the bare parts about the base of the bill, only the part under the eye which is bright red in the male, is bright yellow in the female.

Young Birds unfledged. Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 3, 4.

The inside of the mouth and the gular sac flesh-coloured; the bill dusky, at the base flesh-coloured; the eyes bluish grey. The general colour of their skin is dull livid; the feet purplish-dusky, the webs yellowish-brown.

The following is a description of the smaller individual represented in the plate, and which was about two weeks old. The length is twelve inches and a half; the colour dull livid, the abdomen and breast lighter, the forehead, gular sac, and bases of the mandibles, flesh-colour tinged with yellow, as is the mouth. The head and upper part of the neck are bare, as well as the lower surface of the wings. Over the rest of the body are small down tufts rising in regular series, excepting along an impressed line extending from the anterior part of the thorax to the anus. The apertures of the ears are round, extremely small, being only half a twelfth in diameter; the eyes very small, the iris grey. The aperture of the posterior nares is linear-lanceolate, smooth on the edges, half an inch long. A probe introduced into it passes readily out by the nostril, which is basal, linear, small, two-twelfths long, placed at the commencement of the long groove which separates the sides from the ridge of the mandible, and covered above by the skin, so as to be not readily observed, although it is easily dilatable. Each internal nostril is oblique, much wider below, and has on its inner side a transverse soft ridge, which divides it into two cavities, the posterior deep and funnel-shaped, passing backwards and upwards, the anterior becoming narrower towards the external aperture. The tongue is extremely small, four-twelfths long, elliptical, with a central ridge. The œsophagus is extremely dilatable, and as far as the middle of the neck is of larger diameter than below, but it again dilates as it enters the stomach. Its length is five inches and a half. The inner coat is smooth in its dilated part, but in the rest is raised into numerous longitudinal ridges or folds, which at the lower part are undulated. The stomach is oblong, four and a half inches long, quite membranous, and without apparent central tendons. The gastric glands are disposed so as to occupy two spaces, the one three and a half inches by two, the other a little smaller. The inner coat is soft and without wrinkles. The intestine is five feet two inches long, at its upper part three-twelfths in diameter, gradually diminishing to one-twelfth. At the distance of two inches from the anus are two cœca, three-twelfths long, one-twelfth in diameter, and rounded. The contents of the stomach were fragments of fish, with numerous bones, and a pebble about half an inch in diameter. The heart triangular, much flattened. The liver of two very unequal lobes, the right one two inches and a half long, the other one and a half. The specimen, which I had preserved in spirits, was examined in my presence by my friend Mr MACGILLIVRAY. Whether the fact of the anterior aperture of the organ of smell being open in the young Cormorant has been observed by any other person than myself, I know not; but it would seem that the general opinion is, that Cormorants have no external nares in any stage, and although some state that in the adult they exist, and are extremely small, others allege that there are none at all.

A young female, shot in the end of October, on being carefully examined, was found to present the following characters.

The length to the end of the tail was 36 inches, to the end of the wings 29-3/4, to the end of the outer toe 34-1/2; the extent of the wings 55; the weight 5 lb. 10-1/2 oz.

Bill along the ridge and unguis black, the sides brownish-grey; the lower mandible brownish-grey, dusky on the sides at the middle, the bare skin at the base yellow, as is the gular sac. Upper part of the head and hind neck brownish-black; the back greenish-black, its fore part, the scapulars and the wing-coverts brownish-grey, the feathers edged with greenish-black, and an outer margin of brownish-white, most conspicuous on the secondary coverts; the quills brownish-black, the secondaries tinged with grey on the outer edge; the tail greyish-black, the shafts greyish-blue. Upper part of the throat brownish-white; the rest of the neck greyish-white, mixed with brown; the breast and abdomen white, the sides greenish-black; the lower surface of the wings dusky; the lower tail-coverts greyish-brown, the feathers before them brownish-black. The feet greyish-black; the inner edge of the middle claws very slightly pectinated. The foot, when stretched to its full extent, measures, from the tip of the first to that of the fourth claw, 5-10/12 inches.

The tongue is oblong, carinate above, 7/12 long, 3/12 broad. The palatal slit or aperture of the posterior nares is linear, 1-2/12 long, with a soft flap on each side. The mouth is 1-5/12 wide; the bill 3-1/4 along the back, 4 along the edge of lower mandible. The aperture of the ear is circular, only half a line in diameter.

On blowing into the posterior nares no air passes. The internal cavities are separated by a longitudinal membranous dissepiment; each cavity is transversely divided by a membranous partition, but neither of the chambers thus formed has any external communication by the mandible. The lachrymal duct, which is wide, passes obliquely forward and downward into the anterior cavity. On gradually slicing the horny covering of the mandible over the place where the nostril ought to be, its position is found clearly defined, there being a slight discontinuity of the bone at that part; but on cutting farther all traces disappear, the original aperture being closed by ossification.

The aperture of the glottis has thick prominent rounded edges, which unite behind and terminate in three knobs, and there is a small transverse flap on each side behind.

The heart is triangular, depressed, obtuse, 2-1/2 inches long, its greatest breadth 1-7/12. The liver has two very unequal lobes, the right 5 inches, the left 3 inches long; the former 2-1/2 broad, the latter 1-3/4. The gall-bladder is 2-1/4 long, (3-1/2)/12 in diameter, rounded, but not much enlarged at the extremity.

The œsophagus is 22-1/2 inches long; at its upper part when dilated upwards of two inches wide, extremely thin, its circular fibres distinct. It is contracted in the whole length of the thorax, where its smallest diameter is 8/12, the largest 10/12; but this part, which in the ordinary state has its inner coat folded into numerous longitudinal wrinkles, is capable of being dilated so as to present a diameter of more than 3 inches, when the internal rugæ disappears. The proventriculus seems at first to form part of the stomach; its walls are extremely thick and studded with glandules, disposed in two circular patches, which are separated by a space of about 3/12 of an inch. The stomach properly so called is very small; its muscular coat thin, but with two distinct tendons. It is of an oblong form, compressed, and at its upper parts has a rounded lobe, from which the intestine comes off. The inner coat is thick, soft, and rugous. The pylorus has a circular marginal rim. The intestine, which is 8 feet long, is at its upper part (3-1/2)/12 in diameter, towards the cœca (2-3/4)/12. The rectum is 7 inches long, its diameter for 4-1/2 inches is 7/12; the cloaca globular, 2-2/12 in diameter; the cœca 3/12 long. The cystic duct enters one inch below the hepatic; between them enters one of the pancreatic ducts, the other 2 inches farther up. The distance from the pylorus to the hepatic duct is 16-1/2 inches.

The lungs extend to the kidneys. The ovules exceedingly small and numerous. In the proventriculus and lower part of the œsophagus were many small ascarides. The contents of the stomach were a few bones of fishes.

Although I have not actually observed that Cormorants have the power of disgorging such substances as they are unable to digest, I should not be surprised to find this to be the case, when their habits are investigated in a state of domestication.

THE ARCTIC JAGER.

LESTRIS PARASITICUS, BOIE.

PLATE CCLXVII. MALE AND FEMALE.

During winter this indefatigable teaser of the smaller Gulls often ranges along our southern coasts as far as the Mexican Gulf, where I have seen it, as well as opposite the shores of the Floridas; but I never met with a single individual in summer, even in the most northern parts, although I had expected to find it breeding on the coasts of Labrador and Newfoundland. Few birds surpass it in power or length of flight. It generally passes through the air at a height of fifty or sixty yards, flying in an easy manner, ranging over the broad bays, on which Gulls of various kinds are engaged in procuring their food. No sooner has it observed that one of them has secured a fish, than it immediately flies toward it and gives chase. It is almost impossible for the Gull to escape, for the warrior with repeated jerkings of his firm pinions sweeps towards it, with the rapidity of a Peregrine Falcon pouncing on a Duck. Each cut and turn of the Gull only irritates him the more and whets his keen appetite, until by two or three sudden dashes, he forces it to disgorge the food it had so lately swallowed. This done, the poor Gull may go in search of more; the Lestris is now for a while contented, and alights on the water to feed at leisure. But soon, perceiving a distant flock of Gulls, he rises on wing and speeds towards them. Renewing his attacks, he now obtains an abundant supply, and at length, when quite gorged, searches for a place on which to alight, unseen by any other of his tribe more powerful than himself. When on wing, its beautiful long tail-feathers seem at times to afford this bird great assistance in executing short sudden turns, which have often brought to my mind the motions of a greyhound while pursuing a hare. By sudden lashings of its tail, it can instantly turn, or arrest its flight. When it is on the water, it keeps that part upright, but when on a rock or a floating piece of timber, it allows it to fall in a graceful manner.

Although usually seen single, or at most in pairs, during the winter, I observed this species in April, on my voyage to the Florida Keys, in flocks of from ten to fifteen, congregated as if for the purpose of returning to the northern regions, where it is said to breed in groups. Mr SELBY, in treating of this bird, says “It breeds upon several of the Orkney and Shetland Isles, and is gregarious during that period; and the situations selected for nidification are the unfrequented heaths at some distance from the shores. The nest is composed of dry grass and mosses, and its two eggs are of a dark oil-green, with irregular blotches of liver-brown. At this season the bird is very courageous, and, like the Common Skua, attacks every intruder upon the limits of its territory, by pouncing and striking at the head with its bill and wings. It also occasionally endeavours to divert attention by feigning accidental lameness.” Having received eggs of this bird from individuals who had collected them, I may add that they are broadly rounded at the larger end, rather pointed at the smaller, have a smooth shell, and average two inches four-twelfths in length, by one inch and four and a half eighths in breadth.

M. TEMMINCK, in his Manuel d’Ornithologie, describes the young when about to leave the nest as follows: “Top of the head of a deep grey; sides and upper part of the neck of a light grey, sprinkled with longitudinal brown spots; a black spot before the eyes; lower part of the neck, back, scapulars, small and large wing-coverts, umber-brown, each feather bordered with yellowish-brown, and often with reddish; lower parts irregularly variegated with deep brown and yellowish-brown on a whitish ground; tail-coverts and abdomen transversely barred; quills of the wings and tail blackish, white at their base and on the inner barbs, all terminated with white; the two outer shafts white; tail only rounded; base of the bill yellowish-green, black towards the point; tarsi bluish-grey; base of the toes and membranes white, the rest black, hind claw often white.”

In middle age, he says, “all the upper parts are greyish-brown without spots; lower parts of a somewhat lighter tint, and also unspotted; inner base of the quills and only the upper parts of the tail-feathers pure white, the rest blackish-brown; the two elongated tail-feathers gradually diminish in breadth towards the extremity, which ends in a very attenuated point; bill and feet as in the old individuals.”

Captain JAMES CLARK ROSS has informed me by letter, that this species was seen in great numbers during his late voyage towards the Arctic circle; that the Pomarine Lestris was less abundant, and RICHARDSON’s very rare.

LESTRIS BUFFONII, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 364.

LESTRIS, ARCTIC JAGER, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 430.

ARCTIC JAGER, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 317.

Adult Male. Plate CCLXVII. Fig. 1.

Bill about the length of the head, rather slender, straight, the tip curved. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, toward the end curved, the ridge broad and convex, the sides separated from the ridge by a narrow groove, extremely narrow and convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip compressed, rather obtuse. Nostrils in the fore part of the nasal groove, nearer the tip than the base, submarginal, pervious, linear, oblong, wider anteriorly. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, a slight prominence at its extremity, beyond which the dorsal line is straight and ascending, the sides sloping outwards and convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip obliquely truncate and rather obtuse.

Head rather small, oblong, much narrowed before. Neck of moderate length. Body rather slender. Feet rather short and of moderate strength; tibia bare at its lower part; tarsus anteriorly covered with broad decurved scutella, on the sides with oblong scales, behind with smaller oblong prominent scales; hind toe extremely small and elevated, the fore toes of moderate size, connected by reticulated webs, which have their margins convex; the third toe longest, the fourth not much shorter, all covered above with numerous scutella, the lateral ones margined externally with small prominent scales directed forwards. Claws of moderate size, curved, acute, compressed, that of third toe with a sharp inner edge.

The plumage in general is close, elastic, soft, and blended; the feathers on the back and wings rather compact and distinct. Wings very long, rather broad, pointed; primary quills tapering and rounded, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary rather short, rounded. Tail feathers of moderate length excepting the two middle, which are extremely elongated and gradually attenuated, the rest broad and rounded, there being twelve in all.

Bill greyish-black, the upper part bluish. Iris brown. Feet black, but with the greater part of the tarsus yellow. The neck and lower parts are white, the former tinged with yellow; upper and fore part of head with the space before the cheeks blackish-brown; the lower part of the hind neck and all the upper parts blackish-grey, the primary quills and tail-feathers brownish-black, the shafts of the former white.

Length to end of tail 23 inches, to end of wings 15; extent of wings 45; wing from flexure 12; tail 12; bill along the back 1-1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 1-3/4; tarsus 1-7/12; middle toe 1-4/12, its claw (4-1/2)/12.

Adult Female. Plate CCLXVII. Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the male, but the middle tail-feathers are about three inches shorter.

THE AMERICAN WOODCOCK.

SCOLOPAX MINOR, GMEL.

PLATE CCLXVIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

There is a kind of innocent simplicity in our Woodcock, which has often excited in me a deep feeling of anxiety, when I witnessed the rude and unmerciful attempts of mischievous boys, on meeting a mother bird in vain attempting to preserve her dear brood from their savage grasp. She scarcely limps, nor does she often flutter along the ground, on such occasions; but with half extended wings, inclining her head to one side, and uttering a soft murmur, she moves to and fro, urging her young to hasten towards some secure spot beyond the reach of their enemies. Regardless of her own danger, she would to all appearance gladly suffer herself to be seized, could she be assured that by such a sacrifice she might ensure the safety of her brood. On an occasion of this kind, I saw a female Woodcock lay herself down on the middle of a road, as if she were dead, while her little ones, five in number, were endeavouring on feeble legs to escape from a pack of naughty boys, who had already caught one of them, and were kicking it over the dust in barbarous sport. The mother might have shared the same fate, had I not happened to issue from the thicket, and interpose in her behalf.

The American Woodcock, although allied to our Common Snipe, Scolopax Wilsonii, differs essentially from it in its habits, even more than in form. The former is a much gentler bird than the latter, and although both see at night, the Woodcock is more nocturnal than the Snipe. The latter often, without provocation or apparent object, migrates or takes long and elevated flights during the day; but the Woodcock rarely takes flight at this time, unless forced to do so to elude its enemies, and even then removes only to a short distance. When rambling unconcernedly, it rarely passes high above the tree tops, or is seen before the dusk or after the morning twilight, when it flies rather low, generally through the woods; and its travels are altogether performed under night. The largeness of its eyes, as compared with those of the Snipe, might of itself enable one to form such a conclusion; but there is moreover a difference in the habits of the Woodcock and Snipe, which I have been surprised at not finding mentioned by WILSON, who certainly was an acute observer. It is that the Woodcock, although a prober of the mire, frequently alights in the interior of extensive forests, where little moisture can be seen, for the purpose of turning up the dead leaves with its bill, in search of food beneath them, in the manner of the Passenger Pigeon, various Grakles, and other birds. This the Snipe, I believe, has never been observed to do. Indeed, although the latter at times alights on the borders of pools or streams overhung by trees, it never flies through the woods.

The American Woodcock, which in New Brunswick is named the Bog-sucker, is found dispersed in abundance during winter, over the southern parts of the Union, and now and then, in warm and sequestered places, even in the Middle Districts. Its stay in any portion of the country at this period, seems to depend altogether on the state of the weather. In the Carolinas, or even in Lower Louisiana, after a night of severe frost, I have found their number greatly diminished in places where they had been observed to be plentiful the day before. The limits of its northern migrations at the commencement of the breeding season, are yet unascertained. When in Newfoundland I was assured that it breeds there; but I met with none either in that country or in Labrador, although it is not rare in the British Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia during summer. From the beginning of March until late in October, this bird may be found in every district of the Union that affords places suited to its habits; and its numbers, I am persuaded, are much greater than is usually supposed. As it feeds by night, it is rarely met with by day, unless by a sportsman or gunner, who may be engaged in pursuing it for pleasure or profit. It is, however, killed in almost incredible numbers, from the beginning of July until late in winter, in different parts of the Union, and our markets are amply supplied with it during its season. You may at times see gunners returning from their sports with a load of Woodcocks, composed of several dozens; nay, adepts in the sport have been known to kill upwards of a hundred in the course of a day, being assisted by relays of dogs, and perhaps a change of guns. In Lower Louisiana, they are slaughtered under night by men carrying lighted torches, which so surprise the poor things that they stand gazing on the light until knocked dead with a pole or cane. This, however, takes place only on the sugar and cotton plantations.

At the time when the Woodcocks are travelling from the south towards all parts of the United States, on their way to their breeding places, these birds, although they migrate singly, follow each other with such rapidity, that they might be said to arrive in flocks, the one coming directly in the wake of the other. This is particularly observable by a person standing on the eastern banks of the Mississippi or the Ohio, in the evening dusk, from the middle of March to that of April, when almost every instant there whizzes past him a Woodcock, with a velocity equalling that of our swiftest birds. See them flying across and low over the broad stream; the sound produced by the action of their wings reaches your ear as they approach, and gradually dies away after they have passed and again entered the woods. While travelling with my family, in the month of October, through New Brunswick and the northern part of the State of Maine, I saw the Woodcocks returning southward in equal numbers late in the evenings, and in the same continuous manner, within a few yards or even feet of the ground, on the roads or through the woods.

This species finds itself accommodated in the warmer parts of the United States, as well as in high northern latitudes, during the breeding season: it is well known to reproduce in the neighbourhood of Savannah in Georgia, and near Charleston in South Carolina. My friend JOHN BACHMAN has known thirty young ones, not yet fully fledged, to have been killed in the vicinity of the latter place in one day. I have never found its nest in Louisiana, but I have frequently fallen in with it in the States from Mississippi to Kentucky, in which latter country it breeds abundantly. In the Middle Districts, the Woodcock begins to pair in the end of March; in the southern a month earlier. At this season, its curious spiral gyrations, while ascending or descending along a space of fifty or more yards of height, in the manner described in the article of the Snipe, when it utters a note different from the cry of that bird, and somewhat resembling the word kwauk, are performed every evening and morning for nearly a fortnight. While on the ground, at this season as well as in autumn, the male not unfrequently repeats this sound, as if he were calling to others in his neighbourhood, and on hearing it answered, immediately flies to meet the other bird, which in the same manner advances toward him. On observing the Woodcock while in the act of emitting these notes, you would imagine he exerted himself to the utmost to produce them, its head and bill being inclined towards the ground, and a strong forward movement of the body taking place at the moment the kwauk reaches your ear. This over, the bird jerks its half-spread tail, then erects itself, and stands as if listening for a few moments, when, if the cry is not answered, it repeats it. I feel pretty confident that, in spring, the female, attracted by these sounds, flies to the male; for on several occasions I observed the bird that had uttered the call immediately caress the one that had just arrived, and which I knew from its greater size to be a female. I am not, however, quite certain that this is always the case, for on other occasions I have seen a male fly off and alight near another, when they would immediately begin to fight, tugging at and pushing each other with their bills, in the most curious manner imaginable.

The nest, which is formed of dried leaves and grass, without much apparent care, is usually placed in some secluded part of the woods, at the foot of some bush, or by the side of a fallen trunk. In one instance, near Camden, in New Jersey, I found one in a small swamp, on the upper part of a log, the lower portion of which was covered with water to the height of several inches. The eggs, which are laid from February to the first of June, according to the latitude of the place selected, are usually four, although I have not very unfrequently found five in a nest. They average one inch and five and a half-eighths in length, by one inch and an eighth in breadth, are smooth, of a dull yellowish clay colour, varying in depth, and irregularly but pretty thickly marked with patches of dark brown, and others of a purple tint.

The young run about as soon as they emerge from the shell. To my astonishment, I once met with three of them on the border of a sand-bar on the Ohio, without their parent, and to all appearance not more than half a day old. I concealed myself near them for about half an hour, during which time the little things continued to totter about the edge of the water, as if their mother had gone that way. During the time I remained I did not see the old bird, and what became of them I know not. The young birds are at first covered with down of a dull yellowish-brown colour, then become streaked with deeper umber tints, and gradually acquire the colours of the old. At the age of from three to four weeks, although not fully fledged, they are able to fly and escape from their enemies, and when they are six weeks old, it requires nearly as much skill to shoot them on wing as if they were much older. At this age they are called stupid by most people; and, in fact, being themselves innocent, and not yet having had much experience, they are not sufficiently aware of the danger that may threaten them, when a two-legged monster, armed with a gun, makes his appearance. But, Reader, observe an old cock on such occasions: there he lies, snugly squatted beneath the broad leaves of that “sconk cabbage” or dock. I see its large dark eye meeting my glance; the bird shrinks as it were within its usual size, and, in a crouching attitude, it shifts with short steps to the other side. The nose of the faithful pointer marks the spot, but unless you are well acquainted with the ways of Woodcocks, it has every chance of escaping from you both, for at this moment it runs off through the grass, reaches a clump of bushes, crosses it, and, taking to wing from a place toward which neither you nor your dog have been looking, you become flustered, take a bad aim, and lose your shot.

Thousands of persons besides you and myself are fond of Woodcock shooting. It is a healthful but at times laborious sport. You well know the places where the birds are to be found under any circumstances; you are aware that, if the weather has been for some time dry, you must resort to the damp meadows that border the Schuylkil, or some similar places; that should it be sultry, the covered swamps are the spots which you ought to visit; but if it be still lowering after continued rain, the southern sides of gentle hills will be found preferable; that if the ground is covered with snow, the oozy places visited by the Snipe are as much resorted to by the Woodcock; that after long frost, the covered thickets along some meandering stream are the places of their retreat; and you are aware that, at all times, it is better for you to have a dog of any kind than to go without a dog at all. Well, you have started a bird, which with easy flaps flies before you in such a way that if you miss it, your companion certainly will not. Should he, however, prove as unsuccessful as yourself, you may put up the bird once, twice, or thrice in succession, for it will either alight in some clump of low trees close by, or plunge into a boggy part of the marsh. As you advance towards him, you may chance to put up half a score more, and stupid though you should be, you must be a bad shot indeed if you do not bring some one of them to the ground. Aye, you have done it, and are improving at the sport, and you may be assured that the killing of Woodcocks requires more practice than almost any other kind of shooting. The young sportsman shoots too quick, or does not shoot at all, in both which cases the game is much better pleased than you are yourself. But when once you have acquired the necessary coolness and dexterity, you may fire, charge and fire again from morning till night, and go on thus during the whole of the Woodcock season.

Now and then, the American Woodcock, after being pursued for a considerable time, throws itself into the centre of large miry places, where it is very difficult for either man or dog to approach it; and indeed if you succeed, it will not rise unless you almost tread upon it. In such cases I have seen dogs point at them, when they were only a few inches distant, and after several minutes seize upon them. When in clear woods, such as pine barrens, the Woodcock on being put up flies at times to a considerable distance, and then performs a circuit and alights not far from you. It is extremely attached to particular spots, to which it returns after being disturbed.

Its flight is performed by constant rather rapid beats of the wings, and while migrating it passes along with great speed. I am inclined to think its flight is greatly protracted, on account of the early periods at which it reaches Maine and New Brunswick:—I may be wrong, but I am of opinion that at such times it flies faster than our little Partridge. In proceeding, it inclines irregularly to the right and left at the end of every few yards; but when it has been put up after having settled for a while, it rises as if not caring about you, and at a slow pace goes a few yards and alights again, runs a few steps and squats to await your departure. It is less addicted to wading through the water than the Snipe, and never searches for food in salt marshes or brackish places. Rivulets that run through thickets, and of which the margins are muddy or composed of oozy ground, are mostly preferred by it; but, as I have already said, its place of abode depends upon the state of the weather and the degree of temperature.

The food of the Woodcock consists principally of large earth-worms, of which it swallows as many in the course of a night as would equal its own weight; but its power of digestion is as great as that of the Herons, and it is not very often that on opening one you find entire worms in its stomach. It obtains its food by perforating the damp earth or mire, and also by turning the dead leaves in the woods, and picking up the worms that lie beneath them. In captivity, Woodcocks very soon accustom themselves to feed on moistened corn meal, bits of cheese, and vermicelli soaked in water. I have seen some that became so gentle as to allow their owner to caress them with the hand. On watching several individuals probing mud in which a number of earthworms had been introduced, in a tub placed in a room partially darkened, I observed the birds plunge their bills up to the nostrils, but never deeper; and from the motion of the parts at the base of the mandibles, I concluded that the bird has the power of working their extremities so as to produce a kind of vacuum, which enables it to seize the worm at one end, and suck it into its throat before it withdraws its bill, as do Curlews and Godwits. The quickness of their sight on such occasions was put to the test by uncovering a cat placed in the corner of the room, at the same height above the floor as the surface of the mud which filled the tub, when instantly the Woodcock would draw out its bill, jerk up its tail, spread it out, leap upon the floor, and run off to the opposite corner. At other times, when the cat was placed beneath the level of the bird, by the whole height of the tub, which was rather more than a foot, the same result took place; and I concluded that the elevated position of this bird’s eye was probably intended to enable it to see its enemies at a considerable distance, and watch their approach, while it is in the act of probing, and not to protect that organ from the mire, as the Woodcock is always extremely clean, and never shews any earth adhering to the feathers about its mouth.

How comfortable it is when fatigued and covered with mud, your clothes drenched with wet, and your stomach aching for food, you arrive at home with a bag of Woodcocks, and meet the kind smiles of those you love best, and which are a thousand times more delightful to your eye, than the savoury flesh of the most delicate of birds can be to your palate. When you have shifted your clothes, and know that on the little round table already spread, you will ere long see a dish of game, which will both remove your hunger and augment the pleasure of your family; when you are seated in the midst of the little group, and now see some one neatly arrayed introduce the mess, so white, so tender, and so beautifully surrounded by savoury juice; when a jug of sparkling Newark cider stands nigh; and you, without knife or fork, quarter a Woodcock, ah Reader!—But alas! I am not in the Jerseys just now, in the company of my generous friend EDWARD HARRIS; nor am I under the hospitable roof of my equally esteemed friend JOHN BACHMAN. No, Reader, I am in Edinburgh, wielding my iron pen, without any expectation of Woodcocks for my dinner, either to-day or to-morrow, or indeed for some months to come.

SCOLOPAX MINOR, Gmel. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 661.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 714.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 331.

WOODCOCK, SCOLOPAX MINOR, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 40. pl. 48. fig. 2.

LESSER WOODCOCK, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 194.

Adult Male. Plate CCLXVIII. Fig. 1.

Bill double the length of the head, straight, slender, tapering, subtrigonal and deeper than broad at the base, slightly depressed towards the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, the ridge narrow, towards the end flattened, the sides nearly erect, sloping outward towards the soft obtuse edges, the tip blunt, knob-like, and longer than that of the lower mandible. Nostrils basal, lateral, linear, very small. Lower mandible broader than the upper, the angle very long and narrow, the dorsal line straight, the back broadly rounded, the sides marked with a broad groove, sloping inwards at the base, outwards towards the end, the edges soft and obtuse, the tip rounded.

Head rather large, oblong, narrowed anteriorly; eyes large, and placed high. Neck short and thick. Body rather full. Feet rather short; tibia feathered to the joint; tarsus rather short, compressed, anteriorly covered with numerous scutella, laterally and behind with subhexagonal scales, and having a row of small scutelliform scales along the outer side behind. Toes free, slender, the first very small, the second slightly shorter than the fourth, the third much longer and exceeding the tarsus in length; all scutellate above, marginate, flattish beneath. Claws very small, arched, acute, that of hind toe extremely small, of middle toe with a thin inner edge.

Plumage very soft, elastic, blended; of the fore part of the head very short, of the neck full. Wings short, rounded; the fourth and fifth quills about equal and longest, the first three extraordinarily attenuated, being in fact sublinear, narrower beyond the middle, the inner web slightly enlarged towards the end, the first as long as the seventh; secondaries broad, the outer a little incurved and rounded, the inner tapering and elongated. Tail very short, wedge-shaped, of twelve narrow feathers, which taper towards the rounded point.

Bill light yellowish-brown, dusky towards the end. Iris brown. Feet flesh coloured; claws brownish-black. The forehead is yellowish-grey, with a few dark mottlings in the centre; on the upper part of the head are two broad blackish brown transverse bands, and on the occiput two narrower, separated by bands of light red; a brownish-black loral band, and a narrow irregular line of the same across the cheek and continued to the occiput. The upper parts are variegated with brownish-black, light yellowish-red, and ash-grey; there are three broad longitudinal bands of the first colour, barred with the second, down the back, separated by two of the last. The inner wing-coverts and secondary quills are similarly barred; the outer pale greyish-red, faintly barred with dusky. The quills are greyish-brown, tipped with dull grey, the secondaries spotted on the outer web with dull red. Upper tail-coverts barred; tail-feathers brownish-black, their tips grey, their outer edges mottled with reddish. The sides of the neck are grey tinged with red; the lower parts in general light red, tinged with grey on the breast, on the sides and lower wing-coverts deeper; the lower tail-coverts with a central dusky line, and the tip white.

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