Chapter XXI: Part 21

At table, however, his agreeable conversation made us all forget his singular appearance; and, indeed, it was only as we strolled together in the garden that his attire struck me as exceedingly remarkable. A long loose coat of yellow nankeen, much the worse of the many rubs it had got in its time, and stained all over with the juice of plants, hung loosely about him like a sac. A waistcoat of the same, with enormous pockets, and buttoned up to the chin, reached below over a pair of tight pantaloons, the lower parts of which were buttoned down to the ankles. His beard was as long as I have known my own to be during some of my peregrinations, and his lank black hair hung loosely over his shoulders. His forehead was so broad and prominent that any tyro in phrenology would instantly have pronounced it the residence of a mind of strong powers. His words impressed an assurance of rigid truth, and as he directed the conversation to the study of the natural sciences, I listened to him with as much delight as Telemachus could have listened to Mentor. He had come to visit me, he said, expressly for the purpose of seeing my drawings, having been told that my representations of birds were accompanied with those of shrubs and plants, and he was desirous of knowing whether I might chance to have in my collection any with which he was unacquainted. I observed some degree of impatience in his request to be allowed at once to see what I had. We returned to the house, when I opened my portfolios and laid them before him.

He chanced to turn over the drawing of a plant quite new to him. After inspecting it closely, he shook his head, and told me no such plant existed in nature;—for, kind reader, M. de T., although a highly scientific man, was suspicious to a fault, and believed such plants only to exist as he had himself seen, or such as, having been discovered of old, had, according to Father MALEBRANCHE's expression, acquired a "venerable beard." I told my guest that the plant was common in the immediate neighbourhood, and that I should shew it him on the morrow. "And why to morrow, Mr AUDUBON? let us go now." We did so, and on reaching the bank of the river, I pointed to the plant. M. de T. I thought had gone mad. He plucked the plants one after another, danced, hugged me in his arms, and exultingly told me that he had got not merely a new species, but a new genus. When we returned home, the naturalist opened the bundle which he had brought on his back, and took out a journal rendered water-proof by means of a leather case, together with a small parcel of linen, examined the new plant, and wrote its description. The examination of my drawings then went on. You would be pleased, kind reader, to hear his criticisms, which were of the greatest advantage to me, for, being well acquainted with books as well as with nature, he was well fitted to give me advice.

It was summer, and the heat was so great that the windows were all open. The light of the candles attracted many insects, among which was observed a large species of Scarabæus. I caught one, and, aware of his inclination to believe only what he should himself see, I shewed him the insect, and assured him it was so strong that it would crawl on the table with the candlestick on its back. "I should like to see the experiment made, Mr AUDUBON," he replied. It was accordingly made, and the insect moved about, dragging its burden so as to make the candlestick change its position as if by magic, until coming upon the edge of the table, it dropped on the floor, took to wing, and made its escape.

When it waxed late, I shewed him to the apartment intended for him during his stay, and endeavoured to render him comfortable, leaving him writing materials in abundance. I was indeed heartily glad to have a naturalist under my roof. We had all retired to rest. Every person I imagined was in deep slumber save myself, when of a sudden I heard a great uproar in the naturalist's room. I got up, reached the place in a few moments, and opened the door, when, to my astonishment, I saw my guest running about the room naked, holding the handle of my favourite violin, the body of which he had battered to pieces against the walls in attempting to kill the bats which had entered by the open window, probably attracted by the insects flying around his candle. I stood amazed, but he continued jumping and running round and round, until he was fairly exhausted, when he begged me to procure one of the animals for him, as he felt convinced they belonged to "a new species." Although I was convinced of the contrary, I took up the bow of my demolished Cremona, and administering a smart tap to each of the bats as it came up, soon got specimens enough. The war ended, I again bade him good night, but could not help observing the state of the room. It was strewed with plants, which it would seem he had arranged into groups, but which were now scattered about in confusion. "Never mind, Mr AUDUBON," quoth the eccentric naturalist, "never mind, I'll soon arrange them again. I have the bats, and that's enough."

Several days passed, during which we followed our several occupations. M. de T. searched the woods for plants, and I for birds. He also followed the margins of the Ohio, and picked up many shells, which he greatly extolled. With us, I told him, they were gathered into heaps to be converted into lime. "Lime! Mr AUDUBON; why, they are worth a guinea a piece in any part of Europe." One day, as I was returning from a hunt in a cane-brake, he observed that I was wet and spattered with mud, and desired me to shew him the interior of one of these places, which he said he had never visited.

The Cane, kind reader, formerly grew spontaneously over the greater portions of the State of Kentucky and other Western Districts of our Union, as well as in many farther south. Now, however, cultivation, the introduction of cattle and horses, and other circumstances connected with the progress of civilization, have greatly altered the face of the country, and reduced the cane within comparatively small limits. It attains a height of from twelve to thirty feet, and a diameter of from one to two, and grows in great patches resembling osier-holts, in which occur plants of all sizes. The plants frequently grow so close together, and in course of time become so tangled, as to present an almost impenetrable thicket. A portion of ground thus covered with canes is called a _Cane-brake_.

If you picture to yourself one of these cane-brakes growing beneath the gigantic trees that form our western forests, interspersed with vines of many species, and numberless plants of every description, you may conceive how difficult it is for one to make his way through it, especially after a heavy shower of rain or a fall of sleet, when the traveller, in forcing his way through, shakes down upon himself such quantities of water, as soon reduce him to a state of the utmost discomfort. The hunters often cut little paths through the thickets with their knives, but the usual mode of passing through them is by pushing one's self backward, and wedging a way between the stems. To follow a bear or a cougar pursued by dogs through these brakes, is a task, the accomplishment of which may be imagined, but of the difficulties and dangers accompanying which I cannot easily give an adequate representation.

The canes generally grow on the richest soil, and are particularly plentiful along the margins of the great western rivers. Many of our new settlers are fond of forming farms in their immediate vicinity, as the plant is much relished by all kinds of cattle and horses, which feed upon it at all seasons, and again because these brakes are plentifully stocked with game of various kinds. It sometimes happens that the farmer clears a portion of the brake. This is done by cutting the stems, which are fistular and knotted, like those of other grasses, with a large knife or cutlass. They are afterwards placed in heaps, and when partially dried set fire to. The moisture contained between the joints is converted into steam, which causes the cane to burst with a smart report, and when a whole mass is crackling, the sounds resemble discharges of musquetry. Indeed, I have been told that travellers floating down the rivers, and unacquainted with these circumstances, have been induced to pull their oars with redoubled rigour, apprehending the attack of a host of savages, ready to scalp every one of the party.

A day being fixed, we left home after an early breakfast, crossed the Ohio, and entered the woods. I had determined that my companion should view a cane-brake in all its perfection, and after leading him several miles in a direct course, came upon as fine a sample as existed in that part of the country. We entered, and for some time proceeded without much difficulty, as I led the way, and cut down the canes which were most likely to incommode him. The difficulties gradually increased, so that we were presently obliged to turn our backs to the foe, and push ourselves on the best way we could. My companion stopped here and there to pick up a plant and examine it. After a while, we chanced to come upon the top of a fallen tree, which so obstructed our passage that we were on the eve of going round, instead of thrusting ourselves through amongst the branches, when, from its bed in the centre of the tangled mass, forth rushed a bear, with such force, and snuffing the air in so frightful a manner, that M. de T. became suddenly terror-struck, and, in his haste to escape, made a desperate attempt to run, but fell amongst the canes in such a way, that he looked as if pinioned. Perceiving him jammed in between the stalks, and thoroughly frightened, I could not refrain from laughing at the ridiculous exhibition which he made. My gaiety, however, was not very pleasing to the savant, who called out for aid, which was at once administered. Gladly would he have retraced his steps, but I was desirous that he should be able to describe a cane-brake, and enticed him to follow me, by telling him that our worst difficulties were nearly over. We proceeded, for by this time the bear was out of hearing.

The way became more and more tangled. I saw with delight that a heavy cloud, portentous of a thunder gust, was approaching. In the mean time, I kept my companion in such constant difficulties, that he now panted, perspired, and seemed almost overcome by fatigue. The thunder began to rumble, and soon after a dash of heavy rain drenched us in a few minutes. The withered particles of leaves and bark attached to the canes stuck to our clothes. We received many scratches from briars, and now and then a twitch from a nettle. M. de T. seriously inquired if we should ever get alive out of the horrible situation in which we were. I spoke of courage and patience, and told him I hoped we should soon get to the margin of the brake, which, however, I knew to be two miles distant. I made him rest, and gave him a mouthful of brandy from my flask; after which, we proceeded on our slow and painful march. He threw away all his plants, emptied his pockets of the fungi, lichens, and mosses which he had thrust into them, and finding himself much lightened, went on for thirty or forty yards with a better grace. But, kind reader, enough—I led the naturalist first one way, then another, until I had nearly lost myself in the brake, although I was well acquainted with it, kept him tumbling and crawling on his hands and knees, until long after mid-day, when we at length reached the edge of the river. I blew my horn, and soon shewed my companion a boat coming to our rescue. We were ferried over, and, on reaching the house, found more agreeable occupation in replenishing our empty coffers.

M. de T. remained with us for three weeks, and collected multitudes of plants, shells, bats, and fishes, but never again expressed a desire of visiting a cane-brake. We were perfectly reconciled to his oddities, and, finding him a most agreeable and intelligent companion, hoped that his sojourn might be of long duration. But, one evening when tea was prepared, and we expected him to join the family, he was nowhere to be found. His grasses and other valuables were all removed from his room. The night was spent in searching for him in the neighbourhood. No eccentric naturalist could be discovered. Whether he had perished in a swamp, or had been devoured by a bear or a gar-fish, or had taken to his heels, were matters of conjecture; nor was it until some weeks after, that a letter from him, thanking us for our attention, assured me of his safety.

THE BROAD-WINGED HAWK.

_FALCO PENNSYLVANICUS_, WILS.

PLATE XCI. MALE AND FEMALE.

One fine May morning, when nature seemed to be enchanted at the sight of her own great works, when the pearly dew-drops were yet hanging at the point of each leaf, or lay nursed in the blossoms, gently rocked, as it were, by the soft breeze of early summer, I took my gun, and, accompanied by my excellent brother-in-law, WILLIAM G. BAKEWELL, Esq., at that time a youth, walked towards some lovely groves, where many songsters attracted our attention by their joyous melodies. The woods were all alive with the richest variety, and, divided in choice, we kept going on without shooting at any thing, so great was our admiration of every bird that presented itself to our view. As we crossed a narrow skirt of wood, my young companion spied a nest on a tree of moderate height, and, as my eye reached it, we both perceived that the parent bird was sitting in it. Some little consultation took place, as neither of us could determine whether it was a Crow's or a Hawk's nest, and it was resolved that my young friend should climb the tree, and bring down one of the eggs. On reaching the nest, he said the bird, which still remained quiet, was a Hawk and unable to fly. I desired him to cover it with his handkerchief, try to secure it, and bring it down, together with the eggs. All this was accomplished without the least difficulty. I looked at it with indescribable pleasure, as I saw it was new to me, and then felt vexed that it was not of a more spirited nature, as it had neither defended its eggs nor itself. It lay quietly in the handkerchief, and I carried it home to my father-in-law's, shewed it to the family, and went to my room, where I instantly began drawing it. The drawing which I then made is at this moment before me, and is dated "Fatland Ford, Pennsylvania, May 27, 1812."

I put the bird on a stick made fast to my table. It merely moved its feet to grasp the stick, and stood erect, but raised its feathers, and drew in its neck on its shoulders. I passed my hand over it, to smooth the feathers by gentle pressure. It moved not. The plumage remained as I wished it. Its eye, directed towards mine, appeared truly sorrowful, with a degree of pensiveness, which rendered me at that moment quite uneasy. I measured the length of its bill with the compass, began my outlines, continued measuring part after part as I went on, and finished the drawing, without the bird ever moving once. My wife sat at my side, reading to me at intervals, but our conversation had frequent reference to the singularity of the incident. The drawing being finished, I raised the window, laid hold of the poor bird, and launched it into the air, where it sailed off until out of my sight, without uttering a single cry, or deviating from its course. The drawing from which the plate is taken, was subsequently made, as I had to wait until I should procure a male, to render it complete.

The above incident you will doubtless consider as extraordinary as I myself did, and perhaps some may feel disposed to look upon it as a specimen of travellers' tales; but as I have resolved to present you with the incidents as they occurred, I have felt no hesitation in relating this.

The Broad-winged Hawk is seldom seen in Louisiana, and I believe never except during the severe winters that occasionally occur in our Middle and Eastern Districts. I have observed that its usual range seldom extends far west of the Alleghany Mountains; but in Virginia, Maryland, and all the States to the eastward of these, it is by no means a rare species. I have shot several in the Jerseys, the State of New York, near the Falls of Niagara, and also in the Great Pine Forest.

Its flight, which is easy and light, is performed in circles. When elevated in the air, it is fond of partially closing its wings for a moment, and thus gliding to a short distance, as if for amusement. It seldom chases other birds of prey, but is itself frequently teased by the Little Sparrow-hawk, the King-bird, or the Martin. It generally attacks birds of weak nature, particularly very young chickens and ducklings, and during winter feeds on insects and other small animals. It flies singly, unless during the breeding season, and after feeding retires to the top of some small tree, within the woods, where it rests for hours together. It is easily approached. When wounded by a shot so as to be unable to fly, it, like most birds of its tribe, throws itself on its back, opens its bill, protrudes its tongue, utters a hissing sound, erects the top-feathers of its head, and defends itself by reiterated attempts to lay hold with its talons. If a stick is presented to it in this state, it will clench it at once, and allow itself to be carried hanging to it for some distance, indeed until the muscles become paralyzed, when it drops, and again employs the same means of defence.

When feeding, it generally holds its prey with both feet, and tears and swallows the parts without much plucking. I must here remark, that birds of prey never cover their victims by extending the wings over them, unless when about to be attacked by other birds or animals, that evince a desire to share with them or carry off the fruit of their exertions. In the stomach of this bird I have found wood-frogs, portions of small snakes, together with feathers, and the hair of several small species of quadrupeds. I do not think it ever secures birds on the wing, at least I never saw it do so.

The nest, which is about the size of that of the Common Crow, is usually placed on pretty large branches, and near the stem or trunk of the tree. It is composed externally of dry sticks and briars, internally of numerous small roots, and is lined with the large feathers of the Common Fowl and other birds. The eggs are four or five, of a dull greyish-white, blotched with dark brown. They are deposited as early as the beginning of March, in low places, but not until a fortnight later in the mountainous parts of the districts in which the bird more frequently breeds.

The tree on which I have placed a pair of these birds is known nearly throughout the Union by the name of _Pig-nut Hickory_. I have represented it along with them, not because the birds themselves feed on the nuts, as some people have supposed on seeing the drawing, but because it occurs abundantly in those States where the Broad-winged Hawk resides, and, again, because I have found the nest of that bird more frequently placed on its branches than on those of any other tree. The nuts have an excessively hard shell. The kernel is sweet, but as it is of small size, the nuts are seldom gathered for any other purpose than that of feeding tame squirrels. The hogs which run at large in our woods feed on them, as do all our different species of squirrels, and sometimes the raccoon. The wood of this tree is perhaps tougher than that of most of its genus; but as the trunk is seldom either very straight or very high, it is not used so much as some other hickories, for the purposes of husbandry. Its average height may be estimated at about fifty feet, and its diameter at from eighteen inches to two feet.

FALCO PENNSYLVANICUS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of
the United States, p. 29.

BROAD-WINGED HAWK, FALCO PENNSYLVANICUS, _Wils._ Amer. Orn.
vol. vi. p. 92. Pl. 54. fig. 1. Male.

Adult Male. Plate XCI. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, as broad as long, the sides convex, the dorsal outline convex from the base; upper mandible with the edges slightly inflected, waved with a broad rounded lobe, the tip trigonal, descending obliquely, acute; lower mandible inflected at the edges, rounded at the tip. Nostrils oval, oblique. Head rather large, flattened above. Neck shortish. Body ovate, broad anteriorly. Wings rather long. Legs longish, rather robust, roundish; tarsi covered before and behind with scuta; toes covered above with scuta, scabrous and tuberculate beneath; middle toe much the longest, outer connected at the base by a membrane, and shorter than the inner; claws long, curved, roundish, very acute.

Plumage ordinary, compact. Feathers of the head narrow, of the back broad and rounded, of the neck oblong. Space between the bill and eye covered with bristly feathers. Wing very broad, the primary quills broad, slightly narrowed toward the end, rounded, the fourth longest, the secondary quills curved inwards, broadly obtuse. Tail longish, nearly even, the feathers rather broad, truncated and rounded.

Bill bluish-black at the tip, blue towards the base; cere and margin yellow. Iris hazel. Feet gamboge-yellow; claws brownish-black. The general colour of the upper parts is dark umber; the forehead with a slight margin of whitish, the quills blackish-brown, the tail with three bands of dark brown, alternating with two whitish bands, and a narrower terminal band of greyish, the tips white. Throat whitish; cheeks reddish-brown, with a dark brown mustachial band; the under parts generally light reddish, marked with guttiform, umber spots along the neck, and sagittiform larger spots of the same colour on the breast and sides. Tibial feathers of the same colour, with numerous smaller spots.

Length 14 inches, extent of wings 32; bill 1½ along the ridge, 1¼ along the gap.

Adult Female. Plate XCI. Fig. 2.

Colouring generally similar to that of the male, lighter above, more tinged with red beneath, where the spots are larger and more irregular.

Length 16 inches, extent of wings 35; bill 1 along the ridge, 1¼ along the gap.

This species is referred to the division _Astures_ of the genus Falco.

THE PIG-NUT HICKORY.

JUGLANS PORCINA, _Mich._ Arbr. Forest. de l'Amer. Sept. t. i.
p. 206. Pl. 9. _Pursh_, Flor. Amer. vol. ii. p. 638.—MONŒCIA
POLYANDRIA, _Linn._ TEREBINTHACEÆ, _Juss._

Leaves pinnate, with seven, five, or three ovato-lanceolate, smooth leaflets, attenuated at both ends; male catkins filiform; fruit globose; nut small, smoothish, very hard. The leaves on the twig represented in the plate are not serrated on the edges, although they are generally so in this species. This, however, is merely an occasional variety.

THE PIGEON HAWK.

_FALCO COLUMBARIUS_, LINN.

PLATE XCII. MALE AND FEMALE.

It is when the whole of the shores of our eastern rivers are swarming with myriads of Rice Buntings, Red-wings, Soras, and other migratory birds,—when all the sportsmen of those parts of our country are induced to turn out in the expectation of full bags of game, that the daring feats of the little spirited Falcon now before you are displayed.

Imagine yourself, good-natured reader, with a gun on your shoulder, following the windings of one of those noble streams which embellish our country and facilitate its commerce, having constantly within your view millions of birds on their way to the south, and which in the evenings fall thick as the drops of a hail-shower on the bordering marshes, to spend the night there in security, and by rest to restore the vigour necessary for their gaining the distant regions, whence half of them had emerged the preceding spring. Well, as you are proceeding, full of anxiety, and gazing in astonishment at the multitudes of feathered travellers, all of a sudden a larger bird attracts your eye. It sweeps along in the stillness of the autumnal evening with a rapidity seldom equalled, creating confusion, terror, and dismay along the whole shores. The flocks rise _en masse_ with a fluttering sound which comes strangely on your ear, double and double again, turn and wind over the marsh, agitated and fearful of imminent danger. And now, closely crowded, they would fain escape, but alas! one has been singled out, and in the twinkling of an eye, the Pigeon Hawk, darting into the middle of the flock, seizes and carries him off. Now is your time. Hundreds of sportsmen are dispersed over the marsh, paddling their canoes, or splashing among the reeds. Pull your trigger, and let fly, for it is impossible, should you be ever so inexpert, not to bring down several birds at a shot.

But, leaving you to your sport, I must follow the little marauder, as he makes toward the nearest shore, where he alights and devours his prey, and then, with unsatiated appetite, and bent on foul deeds, returns to the scene of action.

When the Reed-birds, the Redwings, and Soras, shall have become so scarce as to be searched for with the same interest as our little Partridges already are; when the margins of our rivers shall have been drained and ploughed to the very tide-mark; when the Grouse shall have to be protected by game-laws; when Turkeys shall no longer be met with in the wild state;—how strange will the tale which I now tell sound in the ears of those who may walk along the banks of these rivers, and over the fields which have occupied the place of these marshes!

The Pigeon Hawk does not, I believe, raise its young within the United States, but somewhere farther to the north. At least, I am inclined to think so, for in all my wanderings I never found its nest, nor saw the bird at any other season than late in summer, during the autumnal months, or in the winter. Its migration, or rather its pursuit of migrating birds, extends to the southernmost parts of our country; for I have killed it not only in Louisiana, but high up the Arkansas River, in regions bordering upon the Mexican territory.

The daring spirit which it displays exceeds that of any other Hawk of its size. It seizes the Red-breasted Thrush, the Wild Pigeon, and even the Golden-winged Woodpecker, on land; whilst along the shores it chases several species of Snipes, as well as the Green-winged Teal. The latter bird, however, dives at the approach of the Hawk, and thus eludes his gripe; while the little plunderer, having descended to the surface of the water with the velocity of an arrow, passes onwards, ascending again, without seeming to move its wings, the impulse which it acquired in the descent carrying it onwards, as a carriage, after being whirled down a steep declivity, surmounts the next eminence, without additional propulsion. Even the presence of the tyrant man he little heeds, and in Pennsylvania one of this species came almost right upon me while in pursuit of a dove, which found safety in my bosom from its persecutor.

When not in full chase, the Pigeon Hawk flies with an unsteady and undetermined notion, flapping its wings frequently, while it rises in spiral curves. This parade is of short duration, for, as if it remembered that it was losing time, it again approaches the ground, and skims swiftly over the streams, across the fields, along the fences, or by the skirts of the woods, as if intending to frighten all the little birds in its way. Should it unexpectedly meet a man, it darts upwards, and quickly passes over to continue its search. I have known these Hawks attack birds in cages, hanging against the walls of houses, in the very streets of our eastern cities.

When wounded in the wing, it shakes the other as it falls, describing the spiral curves of a screw; and, if no person is near to secure it, makes its way by long leaps to the thickets, where it is very difficult to find it. But if the gunner is at hand, and attempts to lay hold of it, the little ruffian erects his feathers, screams shrilly and piercingly, and, like the rest of his tribe, throws himself on his back, to be ready to clutch his enemy.

FALCO COLUMBARIUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. p. 128.—_Lath._ Ind.
Ornith. vol. i. p. 44.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of
the United States, p. 28.

PIGEON HAWK, _Lath._ Synops. vol. i. p. 101.—_Wils._ Amer.
Ornith. vol. ii. p. 107. Pl. 25. fig. 3.

Adult Male. Plate XCII. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, as broad as long, the sides convex, the dorsal outline convex from the base; upper mandible with the edges slightly inflected, and forming a projecting process, the tip trigonal, acute, descending obliquely; lower mandible inflected at the edges, with a notch near the end, abrupt at the tip. Nostrils roundish, with a central tubercle, perforated in the short cere. Head rather large, flattened above. Neck shortish. Body ovate. Legs short, roundish; tarsi covered before with transverse scuta, on the sides with scales; toes scutellate above, scabrous and tuberculate beneath; middle toe much longer than the outer, which is connected with it at the base by a membrane; claws long, curved, roundish, very acute.

Plumage ordinary, compact on the upper and fore parts, lax beneath. Feathers of the head and neck narrow, of the back rather short, broad and rounded, of the breast oblong. Space between the beak and eye covered with bristly feathers. Orbital spaces bare. Wings nearly as long as the tail; the primary quills narrow, tapering, cut out on the inner web towards the end, rounded, the second longest; the secondary quills short, obtuse. Tail longish, nearly even. Tibial feathers long, forming a large tuft externally.

Bill bluish-black at the tip, blue towards the base; cere, margin, and bare orbital space greenish-yellow. Iris dark brown. Feet greenish-yellow; claws brownish-black. The general colour of the upper parts is deep chocolate; a line above the eyes, the tips of the first row of wing-coverts, the outer margins and tips of the secondaries, and the inner margins and tips of the primaries, whitish. The inner webs of the quills marked with pale brown spots. Tail banded with brownish-white transverse spots, which do not reach the outer margin of the feathers, and tipped with the same. Throat white, cheeks whitish, patched and streaked with brown. A broad mustachial band of the same colour. Under parts generally light reddish-brown, marked with guttiform spots. Tibial feathers marked with more elongated spots. Under tail-coverts nearly spotless.

Length 13 inches, extent of wings 28; bill 7/12 along the ridge, 11/12 along the gap.

Adult Female. Plate XCII. Fig. 2.

The colouring of the female is generally similar to that of the male, somewhat lighter above, with the spots of the lower parts broader.

Length 14½ inches, extent of wings 30; bill ¾ along the ridge, ¾ along the gap, measured from the tip of the lower mandible.

THE SEA-SIDE FINCH.

_FRINGILLA MARITIMA_, WILS.

PLATE XCIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

The monotonous chirpings which one hears in almost every part of our maritime salt-marshes, are produced by this bird and another nearly allied to it. The Sea-side Finch may be seen at any hour of the day, during the months of May and June, mounted on the tops of the rankest weeds which grow by the margins of tide-waters along the greater portion of our Atlantic coast, whence it pours forth with much emphasis the few notes of which its song is composed. When one approaches it, it either seeks refuge amongst the grass, by descending along the stalks and blades of the weeds, or flies off to a short distance, with a continued flirting of its wings, then alights with a rapid descent, and runs off with great nimbleness. I am inclined to believe that it rears two broods in the season, as I have found birds of this species sitting on their eggs early in May, and again in the beginning of July. The nest is placed so close to the ground that one might suppose it partly sunk in it, although this is not actually the case. It is composed of coarse grasses externally, and is lined with finer kinds, but exhibits little regularity in its structure. The eggs are from four to six, of an elongated oval form, greyish-white, freckled with brown all over. The male and the female sit alternately, and will not fly off at the sight of man, unless he attempts to catch them on the nest, when they skulk off as if badly wounded. Many nests may be found in the space of a few acres of these marshes, where the land is most elevated, and where small shrubs are seen. They select these spots, because they are not liable to be overflowed by high floods, and because there are accumulated about them drifted sand, masses of sea-weed, and other castings of the sea, among which they find much food of the kind which they seem to prefer. This consists of marine insects, small crabs and snails, as well as the green sand beetle, portions of all of which I have found in their stomach.

It is very difficult to shoot them unless when they are on wing, as their movements while they run up and down the weeds are extremely rapid; but their flight is so direct and level, that a good marksman can easily kill them before they alight amongst the grass again. After the young are well grown, the whole of these birds betake themselves to the ditches or sluices by which the salt-marshes are intersected, fly along them, and there find abundant food. They enter the larger holes of crabs, go into every crack and crevice of the drying mud, and are then more difficult to be approached, as the edges of these ditches are usually overgrown with taller and ranker sedges. Having one day shot a number of these birds, merely for the sake of practice, I had them made into a pie, which, however, could not be eaten, on account of its fishy savour.

The Rose on which I have drawn these birds is found so near the sea, on rather higher lands than the marshes, that I thought it as fit as any other plant for the purpose, more especially as the Finches, when very high tides overflow the marshes, take refuge in these higher grounds. It is sweetly scented, and blooms from May to August. I have never met with it elsewhere than on the small sea islands and along the coasts, where it grows in loose sandy soil.

FRINGILLA MARITIMA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
United States, p. 110.

SEA-SIDE FINCH, FRINGILLA MARITIMA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. iv.
p. 68, Pl. 34. fig. 2.

Adult Male. Plate XCIII. Fig. 1.

Bill shortish, robust, conical, acute; upper mandible broader than the lower, slightly declinate at the tip; the edges of both mandibles slightly arched, and a little deflected at the base. Nostrils basal, roundish, open, partially concealed by the feathers. Head rather large. Neck shortish. Body rather robust. Legs of moderate length, slender; tarsus longer than the middle toe, covered anteriorly with a longitudinal plate above, and a few large scuta below; toes scutellate above, free, the lateral ones nearly equal; claws slender, slightly arched, compressed, acute, that of the hind toe larger.

Plumage ordinary, compact above, soft and blended beneath. Wings short, and much curved, third and fourth quills longest, first much shorter. Tail of ordinary length, much rounded, the feathers narrow and rather pointed.

Bill dark brown above, light blue beneath. Iris hazel. Feet and claws greyish-blue. Crown of the head deep brown, surrounded by a line of greyish-blue. Upper part of the back, wings, and tail, olive-brown mixed with pale blue. Lesser wing-coverts reddish-brown, larger coverts edged and tipped with brownish-white, the edge of the wing-joint yellow. Outer margins of the tail-feathers paler. A broad yellow streak from the base of the bill over the eye. Throat and fore-neck greyish-white, with a streak of greyish-blue on each side. Breast and sides dull greyish-blue, the abdomen paler.

There is very little difference between the sexes as to colour or size.

Length 8 inches, extent of wings 11; bill along the ridge ⅔, along the gap 1.

THE CAROLINA ROSE.

ROSA CAROLINA, _Pursh_, Flor. Amer. p. 345.—ICOSANDRIA
POLYGYNIA, _Linn._ ROSACEÆ, _Juss._

This beautiful species, which attains a height of five or six feet, is generally characterized by its globose germens, which, with the peduncles, are more or less hispid; its hairy petioles, slightly curved prickles, and oblongo-lanceolate, acute, serrated leaflets, which are glaucous beneath. It varies greatly, however, like many other species of the same genus.

THE GRASS FINCH, OR BAY-WINGED BUNTING.

_FRINGILLA GRAMINEA_, GMEL.

PLATE XCIV. MALE.

I have never seen the Bay-winged Bunting in any portion of Louisiana, Missouri, Kentucky, or Ohio, and am therefore inclined to look upon it as a resident of the country lying to the eastward of the range of the Alleghanies. It there occurs from Georgia to Massachusets, both along the shores and inland, as far as the base of the mountains, and here and there on the mountains themselves, but seldom in places to which cultivation has not extended. I have thought it prepossessed in favour of sandy ground, and dry barren soils. It sings sweetly, and at times for half-an-hour, without changing its place, either from the tops of the Sassafras or Sumach bushes which grow along the fences, or from the upper bar or stake of a fence itself. During this little serenade, it is easily approached, but when on the ground, where it runs nimbly and with grace, it is rather shy. It is fond of scratching in the warm and dry sand, and of wallowing in it, to cleanse its body. Its flight, which is easy, consists of a succession of gentle undulations, and, when it is chased, sometimes extends over the whole of a field. It is a solitary bird, and is rather pugnacious, for when two males or two females happen to meet, little skirmishes frequently ensue. The nest, which is placed among the grass, and partly sunk in the ground, little attention being paid to its concealment, is prettily constructed. It is formed externally of leaves and fine grass, and is well lined with horse hair, so as to look neat and comfortable. The female lays from four to six eggs, about the middle of April, in favourable seasons, and generally rears two broods each year. I have shot these birds during winter, in the neighbourhood of Lancaster in Pennsylvania, where but few are seen. At the same period of the year they were found numerous along the sea-coast of Virginia and Carolina. Their food consists principally of the seeds of grasses and other plants, although they sometimes run after insects and eat them also. Their flesh is juicy, tender and savoury.

Having drawn the figure which you will see on referring to the plate, near the sea-shores of New Jersey, where the bird which it represents was shot while walking among little groups of the plant there vulgarly called the Prickly Pear, I have represented it also. It shoots up its fleshy stems from among the driest sand, and there flourishes in the greatest perfection and abundance. The flower is destitute of scent, but the fruit is agreeably acid, and is often eaten by children. I have observed a plant of the same genus about the sterile cliffs of the Kentucky River, and in particular near the town of Frankfort, as well as in Louisiana on Alexander's Creek, at which place it grows to a great size. This is probably a distinct species. I have not observed Cactuses growing in a wild state in any other part of the Union.

FRINGILLA GRAMINEA, _Gmel._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 922.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 445.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds
of the United States, p. 108.

GRASS FINCH, _Lath._ Synops. vol. iii. p. 273.

EMBERIZA GRAMINEA, BAY-WINGED BUNTING, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
vol. iv. p. 51. Pl. 31. fig. 5.

Adult Male. Plate XCIV.

Bill shortish, robust, conical, acute; upper mandible broader than the lower, slightly declinate at the tip, the edges of both mandibles straight to near the base, where they are a little deflected. Nostrils basal, roundish, open, partially concealed by the feathers. Head rather large. Neck short. Body robust. Legs of moderate length, slender; tarsus of the same length as the middle toe, covered anteriorly with a longitudinal plate above, and a few transverse scuta below; toes scutate above, free, the lateral ones nearly equal; claws slender, arched, compressed, acute, that of the hind toe largest.

Plumage ordinary, compact. Wings of ordinary length, third and fourth quills longest, first and second little shorter. Tail longish, nearly equal, or slightly forked.

Bill dark brown on the back of the upper mandible, pale on the sides and below. Iris hazel. Tarsi, toes, and claws, flesh-colour. The general colour of the upper parts is light brown, streaked and mottled with darker. Lesser wing-coverts bright reddish-brown or bay, the larger deep brown, edged with pale brown; quills also deep brown, the first margined externally with white. Tail-feathers dark brown, the outer marked with an oblique band of white, including the outer web and part of the inner towards the tip, the next three margined externally with white, changing into pale brown on the other. A narrow circle of white around the eye. Throat and breast yellowish-white, the latter and the fore part of the cheeks streaked with dark brown. Sides and abdomen very pale yellowish-brown, the former sparsely streaked with dark brown; the posterior abdominal region and under tail-coverts white.

There is no perceptible difference as to colour or size between the male and the female.

Length 5¾ inches, extent of wings 10; bill ⅓ along the ridge, ½ along the gap.

This species has been variously classed, some considering it as a Fringilla, others as an Emberiza. It seems to me to be more in its true place in the former genus, while in its habits, colouring and form, it also approaches closely to some species of Alauda.

THE PRICKLY PEAR, OR INDIAN FIG.

CACTUS OPUNTIA, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 943. _Pursh_,
Fl. Amer. p. 323.—ICOSANDRIA MONOGYNIA, _Linn._ CACTI, _Juss._

This species has an articulated fleshy stem, with ovate, compressed joints, sparsely covered with setaceous prickles; large yellow flowers, and red, acidulous, eatable berries. It flowers in June and July, and grows in sandy fields and dry barren soil.

THE YELLOW-POLL WARBLER.

_SYLVIA ÆSTIVA_, GMEL.

PLATE XCV. MALE.

As soon as the welcome note of the Purple Martin is heard in spring, on its return to the United States, which, in Louisiana, sometimes takes place early in March, the little Warbler here presented to your inspection follows, and is seen gaily moving from tree to tree, feeding on the smaller insects, and tuning its pipe, which, however, is not the most melodious. It approaches the gardens and orange-groves, and again flies off to the willows, along the margins of the pools and lagoons. Its sojourn is of short duration in Louisiana, for it moves gradually eastward as the season advances, leaving nothing but the recollection of its passage through the land. Its migration, in as far as I have been able to ascertain, is principally performed during the night. I have observed many in the course of one day in a place, which, next day, if the weather had become warm, scarcely contained a single individual. It never breeds in the district mentioned above, nor even in the State of Mississippi. A few breed in Kentucky, more in Ohio, and their nests in this manner increase the farther you proceed eastward. I have seen many of these birds, as well as their nests, on the Genessee River; but in the States of New York, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, they may be found in every orchard and garden, and even in the streets, among the foliage of our trees.

The males chase each other with great courage, and fight for a few moments, to establish their claim to any particular spot or tree, after which they are seen climbing up and down among the twigs and smaller branches, looking keenly among the leaves and blossoms for insects. Careless of the presence of man, the Blue-eyed Warbler is easily approached. The same carelessness makes it build its little nest almost always within reach of the latter. The parents are very assiduous in the discharge of their duties. They construct a nest about the middle of May, in the forked branches of a small tree, often within a few paces of a house. The nest is strongly fastened to the twigs, is formed externally of hemp, flax, or woolly substances, and is well lined with different kinds of hair, intermixed with softer materials. It breeds twice during the summer, and returns southward in the beginning of autumn, in small parties, shifting chiefly by night. During the breeding-season, this little bird, when approached, shews great anxiety for the preservation of its eggs or young, and tries, with all the artifices employed by many other species, to entice the aggressor away from its nest. They are seen, on their return to the south, passing through Louisiana in October.

I made my drawing of this species near Natchez, and having killed the specimen while it was searching for insects among the flowers of a large climbing plant, I have figured part of the latter also. This plant I have never seen, excepting in low, damp or marshy places. It there runs over decayed trees, spreading in the form of a bower, and hanging in graceful festoons. The long pendulous clusters of pale purple flowers are destitute of odour.

SYLVIA ÆSTIVA, _Gmel._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 996.—_Lath._ Ind.
Ornith. vol. ii. p. 551.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of
the United States, p. 83.

YELLOW-POLL WARBLER, _Lath._ Syn. vol. iv. p. 515.

BLUE-EYED WARBLER, SYLVIA CITRINELLA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
vol. ii. p. 111. Pl. 15. fig. 6.

Bill about as long as the head, slender, straight, subulate, as deep as broad at the base. Nostrils basal, lateral, elliptical, half closed by a membrane. Head rather small. Neck short. Body ovate, rather slender. Feet of ordinary length, slender; tarsus longer than the middle toe, covered anteriorly with a few scutella, the uppermost long; toes scutellate above, the inner free, the hind toe of moderate size; claws slender, compressed, acute, arched.

Plumage soft, blended, tufty, a few bristles at the base of the bill. Wings of ordinary length, acute. Tail longish, slightly forked.

Bill dark blue, the lower mandible edged with yellow. Iris brown. Feet and claws pale brown. Hind head and upper parts generally pale yellowish-green, the tail-coverts more yellow. The fore part of the head, the cheeks, the throat, and the sides of the neck, pure golden-yellow; the rest of the lower parts yellow, the breast and sides streaked with brownish-red. Quills and alula deep brown, their outer webs yellowish, as are the margins of the large coverts. Tail-feathers deep brown, with yellow margins.

Length 5¼ inches, extent of wings 10; bill 5/12 along the ridge, ¾ along the gap.

The female differs from the male only in having the colours less bright, and the streaks on the breast somewhat broader and fewer.

SCIPIO AND THE BEAR.

The Black Bear (_Ursus americanus_), however clumsy in appearance, is active, vigilant, and persevering; possesses great strength, courage, and address; and undergoes with little injury the greatest fatigues and hardships in avoiding the pursuit of the hunter. Like the Deer, it changes its haunts with the seasons, and for the same reason, namely, the desire of obtaining suitable food, or of retiring to the more inaccessible parts, where it can pass the time in security, unobserved by man, the most dangerous of its enemies. During the spring months, it searches for food in the low rich alluvial lands that border the rivers, or by the margins of such inland lakes as, on account of their small size, are called by us ponds. There it procures abundance of succulent roots, and of the tender juicy stems of plants, upon which it chiefly feeds at that season. During the summer heat, it enters the gloomy swamps, passes much of its time in wallowing in the mud, like a hog, and contents itself with crayfish, roots, and nettles, now and then, when hard pressed by hunger, seizing on a young pig, or perhaps a sow, or even a calf. As soon as the different kinds of berries which grow on the mountains begin to ripen, the Bears betake themselves to the high grounds, followed by their cubs. In such retired parts of the country where there are no hilly grounds, it pays visits to the maize fields, which it ravages for a while. After this, the various species of nuts, acorns, grapes, and other forest fruits, that form what in the Western Country is called _mast_, attract its attention. The Bear is then seen rambling singly through the woods to gather this harvest, not forgetting meanwhile to rob every _Bee-tree_ it meets with, Bears being, as you well know, expert at this operation. You also know that they are good climbers, and may have been told, or at least may now be told, that the Black Bear now and then _houses_ itself in the hollow trunks of the larger trees for weeks together, when it is said to suck its paws. You are probably not aware of a habit in which it indulges, and which, being curious, must be interesting to you.

At one season, the Black Bear may be seen examining the lower part of the trunk of a tree for several minutes with much attention, at the same time looking around, and snuffing the air, to assure itself that no enemy is near. It then raises itself on its hind legs, approaches the trunk, embraces it with its fore legs, and scratches the bark with its teeth and claws for several minutes in continuance. Its jaws clash against each other, until a mass of foam runs down on both sides of the mouth. After this it continues its rambles.

In various portions of our country, many of our woodsmen and hunters who have seen the Bear performing the singular operation just described, imagine that it does so for the purpose of leaving behind it an indication of its size and power. They measure the height at which the scratches are made, and in this manner can, in fact, form an estimate of the magnitude of the individual. My own opinion, however, is different. It seems to me that the Bear scratches the trees, not for the purpose of shewing its size or its strength, but merely for that of sharpening its teeth and claws, to enable it better to encounter a rival of its own species during the amatory season. The Wild Boar of Europe clashes its tusks and scrapes the earth with its feet, and the Deer rubs its antlers against the lower part of the stems of young trees or bushes, for the same purpose.