Chapter X: Part 10

The flight of the American Oyster-catcher is powerful, swift, elegant at times, and greatly protracted. While they are on wing, their beauties are as effectually displayed as those of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker of our woods, the colours of which are somewhat similar. The transparent white of their wings contrasts with their jetty tips, and is enriched by the coral hue of the bill, while the beautiful white of their lower parts has a very pleasing effect. Their loud cries, too, of _wheep, wheep, wheeop_, which sound in your ears, are quite different from any you have heard; and as they perform their various evolutions, all charming in themselves, you cannot, if unacquainted with the bird, refrain from asking what it is? Now wheeling with wonderful impetuosity, they pass within a hundred yards of you, and suddenly checking their flight return, not low over the waters as before, but high in the air. Again, they form their ranks in a broad front, and again, as if suddenly alarmed by the report of a distant gun, they close pell-mell, and dip towards the sands or the waters. Shoot one at such a moment, and you may expect to kill another; but as this is done, the wary birds, as if suddenly become aware of your intentions, form themselves into a straggling line, and before a minute has elapsed, far beyond reach, and fading on the view, are the remaining Oyster-catchers.

The gullet of this species is capable of being considerably distended. When your finger is introduced into it, it passes with ease into a sort of crop, where the food is apparently prepared before entering the gizzard, which is rather muscular. How this bird disposes of the hard particles of shells, pebbles, and other matters, with which its food is mixed, is beyond my comprehension, and one which I gladly leave for your solution. Their flesh is dark, tough, and unfit for eating, unless in cases of extreme necessity.

The females and young are dark olive-brown above, like the males, but of a browner shade. I have represented a male bird. I have never met with the European Oyster-catcher, _Hæmatopus Ostralegus_, in any part of the United States, and, although I cannot of course aver that it does not occur there, I believe that the American or Mantled Oyster-catcher has been confounded with it by WILSON and others. Indeed, the figure given by WILSON resembles that of the European bird, but his description of the female and young almost agrees with the present species, the dimensions also being nearly the same.

HÆMATOPUS PALLIATUS, _Temm._ Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 532.

MANTLED OYSTER-CATCHER, HÆMATOPUS PALLIATUS, _Nuttall_,
Manual, vol. ii. p. 15.

Plate CCXXIII. Male in June.

Bill long, slender but strong, straight, deeper than broad at the base, towards the end extremely compressed, terminating in a very thin wedge-shaped point. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at the base straight and slightly sloping, convex beyond the nostrils, then straight and sloping to the point, the ridge broad and flattened as far as the prominence, afterwards extremely narrow, the sides sloping at the base, perpendicular towards the end, the edges rather sharp. Nasal groove basal, long; nostrils basal, in the middle of the groove, linear, direct, placed nearer the margin than the dorsal line, pervious. Lower mandible straight, the dorsal line at the base sloping upwards, at one-third of the length of the bill bulging, then straightish and slightly ascending, the tip narrower than that of the upper mandible, the sides at the base sloping upwards, and having a shallow groove, towards the end becoming perpendicular. The bill differs from that of the _Hæmatopus Ostralegus_ in being much deeper at the bulging part, much more attenuated towards the point, and proportionally longer.

Head of moderate size, oblong, the forehead rounded. Neck rather long. Body stout, compact, deeper than broad. Wings long. Feet of moderate length, rather stout; tibia bare for a fourth of its length, and, like the slightly compressed tarsus, covered all round with hexagonal scales; toes rather short and fleshy, the hind toe wanting, the second a little shorter than the fourth, the third much longer, all scaly at the base above, scutellate towards the end, flattened and broad beneath, with thick margins, which are covered with prominent thick scales, and connected at the base by short webs of which the outer is longer; claws small, blunt, rather compressed, that of the middle toe largest, and with a dilated thin inner edge.

Plumage of the head and neck short, blended, of the back compact, and slightly glossed, of the lower parts close and rather blended, the feathers in general incurved, broad, and rounded. Wings long, acute; primaries rather narrow and tapering, the first longest, the second slightly shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries broad and rounded, the inner much elongated and tapering. Tail short, rounded of twelve rather broad, rounded feathers.

Bill vermilion, lighter at the base. Edges of eyelids vermilion; iris bright yellow. Feet very pale flesh-colour; claws brownish-black. Head and neck dull black tinged with bluish-grey; lower eyelid white; the bases of the feathers on the chin white. The general colour of the upper parts is light greyish-brown, tinged with olive, and in certain lights with faint reddish-purple reflections; the edge of the wing, the tips of the secondary coverts, the secondary quills, excepting the inner elongated ones, pure white; as are the breast, sides, under wing-coverts, abdomen, sides of the rump, the upper and the lower tail-coverts. Basal half of the tail white, the rest greyish-brown, like the back.

Length to end of tail 17-1/2, to end of claws 19-1/2; wing from flexure 10-1/2, tail 4-1/4; extent of wings 36; bill along the back 3-5/8; along the edge 3-7/8; bill at the base 9/12, at the deepest part in the middle 8/12; naked part of tibia 1; tarsus 2-1/4; middle toe 1-8/12, its claw (3-1/2)/12. Weight 1 lb. 4-1/2 oz.

The bill varies considerably in length and depth. Individuals vary in length from 17 to 18 inches.

The Female is precisely similar to the male.

THE KITTIWAKE GULL.

_LARUS TRIDACTYLUS_, LATH.

PLATE CCXXIV. ADULT IN SUMMER, AND YOUNG IN WINTER.

This beautiful Gull ranges, during the autumnal and winter months, along the whole of our extensive coasts. I have procured it from the mouth of the Mississippi to the coast of Maine, and have traced it from the latter district to Labrador. Yet I never saw it on any of our great lakes or rivers, nor in any part of the interior. From New York to Eastport it is extremely abundant, and many breed on the Island of Grand Manan, off the entrance of the Bay of Fundy.

As we approached the famous Gannet Rock of the Gulf of St Lawrence, the wind suddenly rose to a gale; but as I was exceedingly anxious that a landing should be effected on the island, every exertion was made to enable me to accomplish my purpose. The whale boat was manned. THOMAS LINCOLN and my son leaped into it, accompanied by young COOLEDGE. Urged by strong pulls, the buoyant boat advanced towards the grim rock. For nearly an hour it became hidden from my sight; but now and then the report of a gun brought intimation that all was as yet safe; and at length I had the great pleasure of seeing it advancing towards the Ripley, which stood off and on, shivering as it were under the heavy blast. My eye fixed to the telescope, watched every movement of the boat, as with fear I saw it tossed from billow to billow, this moment a glimpse of her keel appearing over the edge of a wave, the next a foot of her stem only seeming to float on the waters. “Pull steadily on, my good lads,” at last came on my ear, when, by a heavy surge, the floating shell was driven back some twenty yards, as I thought, and the wave, foaming with wrath, broke over her. Breathless and exhausted, the crew at length came within reach of a line, as the boat was dangerously plunging, when by good luck the rope was thrown across her, and in a few moments she lay snug under our lee. How happy was I when I again saw my son, my young companions, and the sailors, on the deck of the Ripley. Quickly was the whaler hauled on board, and with joy we saw our vessel fly off like a Kittiwake before the gale.

When the anxiety was over, inquiries were made as to the success of the adventurous party. Several nests of the Kittiwake and many of its eggs had been brought safe on board. Notes had been taken on the spot, and the result of the expedition was as follows:—The nests were found placed on some ledge of the huge rock, so small as barely to admit their breadth, which was about a foot. They were placed where no other bird than the Guillemot would have ventured to drop its egg, or the Raven to fix his nest. Yet on that narrow platform the Kittiwake sat on its three eggs, as unconcerned as if in a meadow. The nests were altogether composed of sea-weeds called “eel-grass,” and coarse grasses, probably procured on the top of the rock, or stolen from the nest of some unwary Solan Goose. Their inner surface was quite flat, although some of the nests were many inches in thickness, and looked as if they had been increased in bulk year after year. The sitting birds remained on their eggs with uncommon pertinacity, seldom indeed flying off, but merely moving aside. The male birds, or those that had no eggs, on the contrary, were extremely clamorous, flew around the party in great concern, and shewed much courage. The eggs are of a light olive-green colour, marked with numerous irregular spots of dark brown. Their average length is two inches and a quarter, their greatest breadth one inch and seven-eighths. No other species of Gull was seen about the rock; and indeed I have regularly observed that each species of this genus breeds far apart, although at all other seasons it may associate with others.

The young remain a considerable time in the nest or about it, when room is afforded. Their bills and feet are now quite black, the eye dark, and they do not change these colours until the second spring after their birth, when the bill is dull yellow, the legs and feet of a greenish flesh-colour, and these parts gradually improve in their tints until they acquire the appearance represented in the plate. This species raises only one brood in the season, and old and young leave the coast of Labrador at the first appearance of winter, or when the Ivory Gull reaches that country. This, however, I know only from hearsay, having received the information from a settler at Bras d’Or, who has lived there many years, and must know something of both species, as he was in the habit of salting young Kittiwakes for winter provisions, along with those of other species, and of shooting the Ivory Gull when it arrived over his harbour in the month of December.

The Kittiwake is on land the most awkward of its tribe; and, although it walks often on the rocks, its gait manifests a waddling gaucherie; but on the water, or in the air, few birds surpass it in buoyancy, grace, and ease of motion. Bearing up against the heaviest gale, it passes from one trough of the sea to another, as if anxious to rest for an instant under the lee of the billows; yet as these are seen to rear their curling crests, the Gull is already several feet above them, and preparing to plunge into the next hollow. While in our harbour, and during fine weather, they seemed to play with their companions of other species. Now with a spiral curve, they descend toward the water, support themselves by beats of their wings, decline their heads, and pick up a young herring or some bit of garbage, when away they fly, chased perhaps by several others anxious to rob them of the prize. Noon has arrived. High above the mast-head of our tallest man-of-war, the Kittiwakes float gracefully in wide circles, until all, as if fatigued, sail downward again with common accord towards the transparent deep, and, alighting close to each other, seem to ride safely at anchor. There they now occupy themselves in cleaning and arranging their beautiful plumage.

The food of this species consists of small fish, sea insects, and small bivalves, most of which they procure while on wing, even those left dry by the tide. Unlike the larger species, they do not take up shell-fish to break them by letting them fall on the rocks; at least I never saw them do so. Their principal enemies are different species of Lestris, especially that beautiful one named the _L. parasiticus_. This tormentor follows the Kittiwake to the very waters around the Gulf of Florida during the winter. There with astonishing swiftness, and an audacity scarcely to be surpassed, it gives chase to the Gull, overtakes it, and forces it to alight on the water, or to disgorge the fish which it has just swallowed.

The two represented in the plate were drawn at Boston, at the approach of spring, when the old birds had already assumed the pure white of the head. This species was so abundant on several of the islands of the Bay of Boston, that several basketfuls of them were procured in the course of a few excursions. When one fell to the water, the rest would hover about and around the boat, until many were shot from a flock. The case was the same, while we were in some of the harbours of Labrador.

LARUS TRIDACTYLUS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 817.—_Ch.
Bonaparte_, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p.
359.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p.
423.

KITTIWAKE GULL, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 298.

Adult in Summer. CCXXIV. Fig. 1.

Bill shorter than the head, strong, nearly straight, compressed. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight and slightly declinate, until towards the end, when it is decurved, the ridge convex, the sides slightly convex, the edges a little inflected, straight, towards the end declinate and arched, the tip rather obtuse. Nasal groove narrow, rather long; nostril in its fore part, lateral, longitudinal, linear, wider anteriorly, open, and pervious. Lower mandible with a slight prominence at the end of the angle, which is long and narrow, the dorsal line then nearly straight and ascending, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected.

Head rather large, oblong, anteriorly compressed. Neck of moderate length. Body rather full. Wings long. Feet of moderate length rather strong; tibia bare below; tarsus somewhat compressed, covered before and behind with numerous broad scutella, the sides reticulated; hind toe rudimentary, with a minute knob in place of the claw; the fore toes rather long and slender, the fourth longer than the second, all scutellate above, and connected by reticulated entire membranes, the lateral toes margined externally with a narrow membrane. Claws small, compressed, slightly arched, rather obtuse.

The plumage in general is close, elastic, very soft and blended, on the back somewhat compact. Wings very long, rather broad, acute, the first quill longest, the other primaries rapidly graduated; secondaries broad and rounded, the inner elongated and narrow. Tail of moderate length, even, of twelve rounded feathers.

Bill pale greenish-yellow. Edges of eyelids crimson; iris reddish-brown. Feet black. The head, neck, rump, tail, and lower parts generally are pure white. The back and upper surface of the wings light pearl-grey. The first five quills are black at the end, the first on its outer web also, the fifth with a small white tip, the tips of all the other quills more or less white.

Length to end of tail 18 inches, to end of wings 20, to end of claws 17; extent of wings 36-1/2; wing from flexure 12, tail 7; bill along the back 1-1/2, along the edge of lower mandible 2-2/12; tarsus 1-7/12; middle toe its claw 4/12. Weight 1-1/2 lb.

Young bird in January. Plate CCXXIV. Fig. 2.

Bill and feet black. Edges of eyelids and iris as in the adult. The hind head and neck are bluish-grey, and before the eye there is a semilunar blackish mark, the tips of the auriculars also dark grey. Forehead, sides of the head, throat, and lower parts, white, as is the rump. Tail white, with a broad terminal band of black, the outer feather having only a spot on the inner web. The mantle is bluish-grey, but a broad band of black crosses the lower part of the hind neck, and the larger wing-coverts are of the same colour towards the end. The primary quills are black, more or less margined with white internally.

Length to end of tail 17 inches, to end of wings 19, to end of claws 17; extent of wings 36-5/12. Weight 14-1/2 oz.

THE KILDEER PLOVER.

_CHARADRIUS VOCIFERUS_, WILS.

PLATE CCXV. MALE AND FEMALE.

Reader, suppose yourself wandering over some extensive prairie, far beyond the western shores of the Mississippi. While your wearied limbs and drooping spirits remind you of the necessity of repose and food, you see the moon’s silvery rays glitter on the dews that have already clothed the tall grass around you. Your footsteps, be they ever so light, strike the ear of the watchful Kildeer, who, with a velocity scarcely surpassed by that of any other bird, comes up, and is now passing and repassing swiftly around you. His clear notes indicate his alarm, and seem to demand why _you_ are there. To see him is now impossible, for a cloud has shrouded the moon; but on your left and right, before and behind, his continued vociferations intimate how glad he would be to see you depart from his beloved hunting-grounds. Nay, be not surprised if he should follow you until his eyes, meeting the glaring light of a woodsman traveller, he will wheel off and bid you adieu.

The Kildeer’s large eyes seem to be given it to enable it to feed by night as well as by day. At any time after the breeding season, this species moves in loose flocks, seldom exceeding ten or fifteen individuals, which disperse over the space of an acre or two of ground. Yet some one of them always acts as a sentinel, for standing erect to the full stretch of its legs, it carefully watches all the moving objects around, as far as its eye can reach. Cows, horses, or sheep are none of its enemies, and among them it will seek for food; but let a man, or a dog, or any other animal bent on destruction, shew himself, and that instant the bird runs swiftly with a querulous note, and should any of these his enemies evince the least disposition to molest it, its beautiful wings and tail are spread, and away it goes, cheerily calling to its companions to follow.

The Kildeer is by most people called a “noisy bird and restless.” Now to me it is any thing but this, unless indeed when it is disturbed by the approach or appearance of its enemies, more particularly man, of whom indeed few wild birds are fond. Watch them from under some cover that completely conceals you, and you will see them peaceably and silently follow their avocations for hours. In this respect the Kildeer resembles the Lapwing of Europe, which is also called a restless and noisy bird, because men and dogs are ever in pursuit of the poor thing, which after all its vigilance often falls a prey to the sportsman, who condemns it merely because it endeavours to draw him from its nest or young. During winter, when undisturbed, the Kildeer is in fact an unusually silent bird. In Louisiana, where it breeds and resides at all seasons, it has obtained the name of “Piallard,” so strongly rooted are old prejudices.

The Kildeer, or more properly “Kildee,” so named on account of its note, which may be imitated by the syllables _kildee, kildee, dee, dee, dee_, appear in much greater numbers in the interior than along the coast. Few are seen in the State of Maine; none, I believe, in Nova Scotia, any more than in Newfoundland or Labrador. Inland, however, these birds remove to a great distance north. Unless during winter, in fact, this species is not wont to approach the shores of the sea, but prefers the newly ploughed fields, the banks of clear rivers, or the elevated worn-out grounds of the interior. Few winter to the east of Boston, while during the cold season they abound in the Southern States, although thousands spend the most rigorous months in the Western Country. In the Floridas, Georgia, and South Carolina, you find them dispersed through the sugar, cotton and rice fields; and now they are so gentle and so silent, that you can hardly conceive why they should be called noisy birds. Around the pools, upon the marshes, and along the oyster-beds at low tides, as well as on the extensive mud-flats, you will then meet with them diligently searching for food, and not neglecting to watch you with distrust. Even in the corn-fields and in company with Doves and Grakles, or by the side of some strolling Partridge, you may now and then spy the Kildeer. At this period I have sometimes got so near to it that I could clearly see the pale red margin of its beautiful eye. The bird would perhaps run a few steps, when suddenly checking its course, it would stand still, erect and rigid. Should I level my gun in jest, he would that instant fly off low over the ground, removing to the distance of a hundred yards, alight running as it were, advance twenty or thirty steps more, and then stand still. I would now again approach it as before. Never try it the third time, Reader, the Kildeer will denounce you as an enemy. It will stretch its wings, fly across a river or field, and leave you to amuse yourself as you may. Many a time have I been thus treated.

The flight of the Kildeer is strong and rapid, and is at times protracted to a great distance. It skims quite low over the ground, or plays at a great height in the air, particularly during the love season, when you may see these birds performing all sorts of evolutions on wing. On the ground their speed is such that it has become proverbial, and to “run like a Kildee,” is to move with the utmost possible agility. Their ordinary posture when standing, might be called stiff, were they not so beautiful in form and colouring. When pursued over a large space, they are able to lead you from one spot to another more than twenty times in the course of an hour; and the more you follow them, the more shy do they become, until wearied and hungry, as the fox said of the grapes, you will probably begin to think them poor and insipid after all.

Now you see the Kildee wading in the water, and observe how it splashes it about. Down it lays itself, and with fluttering wings, seems to enjoy the sight of the drops trickling over its silky back. Now dripping and almost soaked to the skin, it retires to the warm earth, to dry its plumage and clear it of insects.

This species breeds in Louisiana about the beginning of April; in the Middle States a full month later, as well as in the Western Country and farther north. Not one, however, has ever been found breeding in the low lands of South Carolina, although these birds remain there until the beginning of May. The nests are various, some being merely a hollow scooped in the bare ground, while at other times the Kildee searches for a place on the edge of a pond, forms a hollow, and constructs a nest of grass, at the foot of a thick bunch of plants. Now and then small pebbles and fragments of shells are raised in the form of a rim around the eggs, on which the sitting bird is seen as if elevated two or three inches. WILSON saw nests of this kind; so have I; and the circumstance appeared as strange to me as that of the birds not breeding in the low lands of the Carolinas. The eggs are almost always four, pyriform, well pointed at the small end, an inch and five-eighths in length, an inch and one eighth in diameter at the broadest part, and of a deep cream colour, pretty generally marked all over with small irregular blotches of purplish-brown and black. The young, as soon as hatched, run about. At this period, or during incubation, the parents, who sit alternately on the eggs, never leaving them to the heat of the sun, are extremely clamorous at sight of an enemy. The female droops her wings, emits her plaintive notes, and endeavours by every means she can devise to draw you from the nest or young. The male dashes over you in the air, in the manner of the European Lapwing, and vociferates all the remonstrances of an angry parent whose family is endangered. If you cannot find pity for the poor birds at such a time, you may take up their eggs and see their distress; but if you be at all so tender-hearted as I would wish you to be, it will be quite unnecessary for me to recommend mercy!

Few Plovers with which I am acquainted, acquire their full plumage sooner than this species. Before December you can observe no difference between the young birds and their parents; nay by this time, like most other species, the former are as fully able to fly as at any other period.

While I was residing in Pennsylvania, the son of my tenant the miller was in the habit of catching newly-hatched birds of every sort, to bait his fish-hooks. I had rather peremptorily remonstrated against this barbarous practice, although, I believe, without effect. One morning I met him returning from the shores of the Perkioming Creek, with his hat full of young Kildees. He endeavoured to avoid me, but I made directly up to him, peeped into his hat and saw the birds. On this I begged of him to go back and restore the poor things to their parents, which he reluctantly did. Never had I felt more happy than I did when I saw the young Plovers run off and hide under cover of the stones.

The Kildee seems to be remarkably attached to certain localities at particular periods. Whilst at General HERNANDEZ’s in East Florida, I accidentally wounded one near a barn on the plantation of my accomplished host. Yet it returned to the same spot for the ten days that I remained there, although it always flew off when I approached it.

The food of this species consists of earth-worms, grass-hoppers, crickets, and coleopterous insects, as well as small crustacea, whether of salt or fresh water, and snails. Now and then they may be seen thrusting their bills into the mud about oysters, in search of some other food. During autumn, they run about the old fields and catch an insect which the Blue Bird has been watching with anxious care from the top of a withering mullein stalk. They run briskly after the ploughman, to pick up the worms that have been turned out of their burrows. Now standing on the grassy meadow, after a shower, you see them patting the moist ground, to force out its inhabitants. During winter, you meet with them on elevated ground, or along the margins of the rivers; but wherever you observe one about to pick up its food, you clearly see its body moving in a see-saw manner on the joints of the legs, until the former being so placed that the bill can reach the ground, the object is seized, and the usual horizontal position is resumed.

The flesh of the Kildee is generally indifferent, unless in early autumn, when the young birds of that season are fat, juicy and tender. At all seasons of the year, the Kildee is however shot by inexperienced sportsmen, and many of these birds are offered for sale in our markets. Little difference is observed at any period in the plumage of the adult birds.

CHARADRIUS VOCIFERUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p.
253.—_Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 742.—_Ch. Bonaparte_,
Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 297.—_Swains. and
Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p. 368.

KILDEER PLOVER, CHARADRIUS VOCIFERUS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.
vol. vii. p. 73. pl. 59. fig. 6.—_Nuttall_, Manual, vol.
ii. p. 22.

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

Bill shorter than the head, straight, somewhat cylindrical. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight for two-thirds of its length, then bulging a little and curving to the tip, which is rather acute, the sides flat and sloping at the base, convex towards the end, where the edges are sharp and inclinate. Nasal groove extended along two-thirds of the mandible, filled with a bare membrane; nostrils basal, linear, in the lower part of the membrane, open, and pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long, narrow, but rounded, the sides at the base sloping outwards and flat, the dorsal line ascending and slightly convex, the edges sharp and involute towards the narrow tip.

Head of moderate size, oblong, rather compressed, the forehead rounded. Eyes large. Neck rather short. Body ovate, rather slender. Wings long. Feet long, slender; tibia bare a considerable way above the joint; tarsus rather compressed, covered all round with reticulated hexagonal scales; toes slender; the hind toe wanting; third or middle toe longest, outer toe considerably longer than inner, all scutellate above and marginate, the outer connected with the middle toe by a membrane as far as the second joint; claws small, compressed, slender but obtuse at the end, the inner edge of the middle claw slightly dilated.

Plumage soft and blended; the feathers rounded, those of the back somewhat distinct. Wings long and pointed; primary quills tapering, the first longest, the second a little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; inner secondaries tapering and elongated, so as nearly to equal the longest primaries. Tail rather long, much rounded or graduated, of twelve rather broad rounded feathers.

Bill black. Edges of eyelids bright red; iris dark brown. Feet light greyish-blue, the hind part of the tarsus pale flesh colour. Upper part of the head, the back, the smaller wing-coverts, and the secondary quills, yellowish-brown. Lower parts white. A brown bar over the lower part of the forehead, and passing under the eye to the occiput; over this a white band on the forehead, surmounted by a brownish-black band between the eyes; behind the eyes also a short white band, ending in light red. The middle of the neck is encircled with a broad brownish-black collar, and on its lower part anteriorly between the wings is a narrower band of the same colour. Primaries brownish-black, each with a white mark, linear on the outer, enlarging on the inner quills. Secondaries, excepting the inner, white, but most of them with a large patch of blackish-brown towards the end; their tips and those of most of the primaries white, as are those of the primary and secondary coverts. Rump and upper tail-coverts bright yellowish-red. Tail-feathers of the same colour at the base, the middle feathers brown, all with a broad subterminal band of black, the tips white, those of the four middle feathers pale reddish; the outer feather on each side white, with three black bands on the inner web.

Length to end of tail 10 inches, to end of wings 9, to end of claws 9-1/2; extent of wings 20; wing from flexure 6-1/2; tail 4; bill along the back 10/12, along the edge (11-1/2)/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 11/12, its claw 3/12. Weight 5-3/4 ounces.

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

The Female resembles the Male.

THE WHITE PERCH AND ITS FAVORITE BAIT.

No sooner have the overflowing waters of early spring subsided within their banks, and the temperature become pleasant, than the trees of our woods are seen to unfold their buds and blossoms, and the White Perch, which during the winter has lived in the ocean, rushes up our streams, to seek the well-known haunts in which it last year deposited its spawn. With unabating vigour it ascends the turbulent current of the Mississippi, of which, however, the waters are too muddy to suit its habits; and glad no doubt is it to enter one of the numberless tributaries whose limpid waters are poured into the mighty river. Of these subsidiary waters the Ohio is one in whose pure stream the White Perch seems to delight; and towards its head springs the fish advances in numerous shoals, following the banks with easy progress. Over many a pebbly or gravelly bar does it seek its food. Here the crawling mussel it crunches and devours; there, with the speed of an arrow, it darts upon the minnow; again, at the edge of a shelving rock, or by the side of a stone, it secures a crayfish. No impure food will “the Growler” touch; therefore, reader, never make use of such to allure it, otherwise not only will your time be lost, but you will not enjoy the gratification of tasting this delicious fish. Should you have no experience in fishing for perch, I would recommend to you to watch the men you see on that shore, for they are excellent anglers.

Smooth are the waters, clear is the sky, and gently does the stream move,—perhaps its velocity does not exceed a mile in the hour. Silence reigns around you. See, each fisher has a basket or calabash, containing many a live cray; and each line, as thick as a crow quill, measures scarce a furlong. At one end two perch hooks are so fastened that they cannot interfere with each other. A few inches below the reaching point of the farthest hook, the sinker, perhaps a quarter of a pound in weight, having a hole bored through its length, is passed upon the line, and there secured by a stout knot at its lower extremity. The other end of the line is fastened ashore. The tackle, you observe, is carefully coiled on the sand at the fisher’s feet. Now on each hook he fixes a cray-fish, piercing the shell beneath the tail, and forcing the keen weapon to reach the very head of the suffering creature, while all its legs are left at liberty to move. Now, each man, holding his line a yard or so from the hooks, whirls it several times overhead, and sends it off to its full length directly across the stream. No sooner has it reached the gravelly bed, than gently urged by the current, it rolls over and over, until it is nearly in the line of the water. Before this, however, I see that several of the men have had a bite, and that by a short jerk they have hooked the fish. Hand over hand they haul in their lines. Poor perch, it is useless labour for thee to flounce and splash in that manner, for no pity will be shewn thee, and thou shalt be dashed on the sand, and left there to quiver in the agonies of death. The lines are within a few yards of being in. I see the fish gasping on its side. Ah! there are two on this line, both good; on most of the others there is one; but I see some of the lines have been robbed by some cunning inhabitant of the water. What beautiful fishes these perches are! so silvery beneath, so deeply coloured above! What a fine eye too! But, friend, I cannot endure their gaspings. Pray put them on this short line, and place them in the water beside you, until you prepare to go home. In a few hours each fisher has obtained as many as he wishes. He rolls up his line, fastens five or six perches on each side of his saddle, mounts his horse, and merrily wends his way.

In this manner the White Perch is caught along the sandy banks of the Ohio, from its mouth to its source. In many parts above Louisville some fishers prefer using the trot-line, which, however, ought to be placed upon, or very little above, the bottom of the stream. When this kind of line is employed, its hooks are more frequently baited with mussels than with cray-fish, the latter being perhaps not so easily procured there as farther down the stream. Great numbers of perches are also caught in seines, especially during a transient rise of the water. Few persons fish for them with the pole, as they generally prefer following the edges of the sandbars next to deep water. Like all others of its tribe, the White Perch is fond of depositing its spawn on gravelly or sandy beds, but rarely at a depth of less than four or five feet. These beds are round, and have an elevated margin formed of the sand removed from their centre, which is scooped out for two or three inches. The fish, although it generally remains for some days over its treasure, is by no means so careful of it as the little sunny, but starts off at the least appearance of danger. I have more than once taken considerable pleasure in floating over their beds, when the water was sufficiently clear to admit of my seeing both the fish and its place of deposit; but I observed that if the sun was shining, the very sight of the boat’s shadow drove the perches away. I am of opinion that most of them return to the sea about the beginning of November; but of this I am not certain.

The usual length of this fish, which on the Ohio is called the White Perch, and in the State of New York the Growler, is from fifteen to twenty inches. I have, however, seen some considerably larger. The weight varies from a pound and a half to four, and even six pounds. For the first six weeks of their arrival in fresh water streams they are in season; the flesh is then white and firm, and affords excellent eating; but during the heats of summer, they become poor, and are seldom very good. Now and then, in the latter days of September, I have eaten some that tasted as well as in spring. One of the most remarkable habits of this fish is that from which it has received the name of Growler. When poised in the water, close to the bottom of a boat, it emits a rough croaking noise, somewhat resembling a groan. Whenever this sound is heard under a boat, if the least disturbance is made by knocking on the gunwale or bottom, it at once ceases; but is renewed when every thing is quiet. It is seldom heard, however, unless in fine calm weather.

The White Perch bites at the hook with considerable care, and very frequently takes off the bait without being caught. Indeed, it requires a good deal of dexterity to hook it, for if this is not done the first time it touches the bait, you rarely succeed afterwards; and I have seen young hands at the game, who, in the course of a morning, seldom caught more than one or two, although they lost perhaps twenty crays. But, now that I have afforded you some information respecting the habits of the White Perch, allow me to say a few words on the subject of its favourite bait.

The Cray is certainly not a fish, although usually so styled; but as every one is acquainted with its form and nature, I shall not inflict on you any disquisition regarding it. It is a handsome crustaceous animal certainly, and its whole tribe I consider as dainties of the first order. To me “_Ecrevisses_,” whether of fresh or of salt water, stripped of their coats, and blended into a soup or a “gombo,” have always been most welcome. Boiled or roasted too, they are excellent in my estimation, and mayhap in yours. The Crayfish, of which I here more particularly speak—for I shall not deprive them of their caudal appendage, lest, like a basha without his tail, they might seem of less consequence—are found most abundantly swimming, crawling at the bottom or on shore, or working at their muddy burrows, in all the southern parts of the Union. If I mistake not, we have two species at least, one more an inhabitant of rocky streamlets than the other, and that one by far the best, though the other is good too. Both species swim by means of rapid strokes of the tail, which propel them backwards to a considerable distance at each repetition. All that I regret concerning these animals is, that they are absolutely little aquatic vultures—or, if you please, crustacea with vulturine habits—for they feed on every thing impure that comes in their way, when they cannot obtain fresh aliment. However this may be, the Crays somehow fall in with this sort of food, and any person may catch as many as he may wish, by fastening a piece of flesh to a line, allowing it to remain under water for a while, and drawing it up with care, when, with the aid of a hand-net, he may bring it ashore with _a few_! But although this is a good method of procuring Cray-fish, it answers only for those that live in running waters. The form of these is delicate, their colour a light olive, and their motions in the water are very lively. The others are larger, of a dark greenish-brown, less active in the water than on land, although they are most truly amphibious. The first conceal themselves beneath shelving rocks, stones, or water-plants; the others form a deep burrow in the damp earth, depositing the materials drawn up, as a man would do in digging a well. The manner in which they dispose of the mud you may see by glancing at the plate of the White Ibis, in my third volume of Illustrations, where also you will find a tolerable portrait of one of these creatures.

According to the nature of the ground, the burrows of this Crayfish are more or less deep. Indeed, this also depends partly on the increasing dryness of the soil, when, influenced by the heat of summer, as well as on the texture of the substratum. Thus, in some places, where the Cray can reach the water after working a few inches, it rests contented during the day, but crawls out for food at night. Should it, however, be left dry, it renews its labour; and thus while one burrow may be only five or six inches deep, another may be two or three feet, and a third even more. They are easily procured when thus lodged in shallow holes; but when the burrow is deep, a thread is used, with a small piece of flesh fastened to it. The Cray eagerly seizes the bait, and is gently drawn up, and thrown to a distance, when he becomes an easy prey. You have read of the method used by the White Ibis in procuring Crays; and I leave you to judge whether the bird or the man is the best fisher. This species is most abundant round the borders of the stagnant lakes, bayous, or ponds of the Southern Districts; and I have seen them caught even in the streets of the suburbs of New Orleans, after a heavy shower. They become a great pest by perforating embankments of all sorts, and many are the maledictions that are uttered against them both by millers and planters, nay even by the overseers of the levees along the banks of the Mississippi. But they are curious creatures, formed no doubt for useful purposes, and as such they are worthy of your notice.

THE WHOOPING CRANE.

_GRUS AMERICANA_, TEMM.

PLATE CCXXVI. MALE.

The variegated foliage of the woods indicates that the latter days of October have arrived; gloomy clouds spread over the heavens; the fierce blasts of the north, as if glad to escape from the dreary regions of their nativity, sport in dreadful revelry among the forests and glades. Showers of sleet and snow descend at intervals, and the careful husbandman gathers his flocks, to drive them to a place of shelter. The traveller gladly accepts the welcome of the forester, and as he seats himself by the blazing fire, looks with pleasure on the spinning wheels of the industrious inmates. The lumberer prepares to set out on his long voyage, the trapper seeks the retreats of the industrious beaver, and the red Indian is making arrangements for his winter hunts. The Ducks and Geese have already reached the waters of the western ponds; here a Swan or two is seen following in their train, and as the observer of nature stands watching the appearances and events of this season of change, he hears from on high the notes of the swiftly travelling but unseen Whooping Crane. Suddenly the turbid atmosphere clears, and now he can perceive the passing birds. Gradually they descend, dress their extended lines, and prepare to alight on the earth. With necks outstretched, and long bony legs extended behind, they proceed supported by wings white as the snow but tipped with jet, until arriving over the great savannah they wheel their circling flight, and slowly approach the ground, on which with half-closed wings, and outstretched feet they alight, running along for a few steps to break the force of their descent.

Reader, see the majestic bird shake its feathers, and again arrange them in order. Proud of its beautiful form, and prouder still of its power of flight, it stalks over the withering grasses with all the majesty of a gallant chief. With long and measured steps be moves along, his head erect, his eye glistening with delight. His great journey is accomplished, and being well acquainted with a country which has often been visited by him, he at once commences his winter avocations.

The Whooping Crane reaches the Western Country about the middle of October, or the beginning of November, in flocks of twenty or thirty individuals, sometimes of twice or thrice that number, the young by themselves, but closely followed by their parents. They spread from Illinois over Kentucky, and all the intermediate States, until they reach the Carolinas on the southern coast, the Floridas, Louisiana, and the countries bordering on Mexico, in all of which they spend the winter, seldom returning northward until about the middle of April, or towards the beginning of May. They are seen on the edges of large ponds supplied with rank herbage, on fields or savannahs, now in swampy woods, and again on extensive marshes. The interior of the country, and the neighbourhood of the sea shores, suit them equally well, so long as the temperature is sufficiently high. In the Middle States, it is very seldom indeed that they are seen; and to the eastward of these countries they are unknown; for all their migrations are performed far inland, and thus they leave and return to the northern retreats where, it is said, they breed and spend the summer. While migrating they appear to travel both by night and by day, and I have frequently heard them at the former, and seen them at the latter time, as they were proceeding toward their destination. Whether the weather be calm or tempestuous, it makes no difference to them, their power of flight being such as to render them regardless of the winds. Nay I have observed them urging their way during very heavy gales, shifting from high to low in the air with remarkable dexterity. The members of a flock sometimes arrange themselves in the form of an acute-angled triangle; sometimes they move in a long line; again they mingle together without order, or form an extended front; but in whatever manner they advance, each bird sounds his loud note in succession, and on all occasions of alarm these birds manifest the same habit. While with us they are also always met with in flocks. But now, Reader, allow me to refer to my journals, whence I shall extract some circumstances relative to this majestic bird, which I hope you will find not uninteresting.

_Louisville, State of Kentucky, March 1810._—I had the gratification of taking ALEXANDER WILSON to some ponds within a few miles of town, and of shewing him many birds of this species, of which he had not previously seen any other than stuffed specimens. I told him that the white birds were the adults, and that the grey ones were the young. WILSON, in his article on the Whooping Crane, has alluded to this, but, as on other occasions, has not informed his readers whence the information came.

_Henderson, November 1810._—The Sand Hill Crane arrived at the Long Pond on the 28th of last month. I saw two flocks of young ones there, and one of adults on the Slim Pond. Both old and young immediately set to digging through the mud, the rains having scarcely begun to cover those places with water, for during summer they become almost dry. The birds work very assiduously with their bills, and succeed in uncovering the large roots of the great water-lily, which often run to a depth of two or three feet. Several cranes are seen in the same hole, tugging at roots and other substances, until they reach the object of their desire, which they greedily devour. While thus engaged, they are easily approached; for if their heads are bent down they cannot see you, and until they raise themselves again, to take notice of what may be going on around the place, you may advance so as to get within shot. While I watched them at this work, they were perfectly silent; and as I lay concealed behind a large cypress tree, within thirty paces of a flock, thus buried, as it were, in the great holes they had formed, so as to put me in mind of a parcel of hogs or bears at their wallowing spots, I could plainly see the colour of their eyes, which is brown in the young, and yellow in the adult. After observing them as long as I wished, I whistled, on which they all at once raised their heads to see what the matter might be. I had so fair an opportunity that I could not resist the temptation, especially as several of the birds had their necks so close together that I felt confident I must kill more than one of them. Accordingly, just as their last croaking notes were heard, and I saw them preparing to set to work again, I fired. Only two flew up, to my surprise. They came down the pond towards me, and my next shot brought them to the ground. On walking to the hole, I found that I had disabled seven in all. Those which were in different holes farther off, all flew away, uttering loud cries, and did not return that afternoon. In the course of a week these birds turned up the earth, and dug holes all over the dry parts of the ponds. As soon as heavy rains fill the pools, the Cranes abandon them, and resort to other places.

_Natchez, November 1821._—The Sand-hill Cranes now resort to the fields, in which corn, pease, and sweet potatoes have been planted, as well as to the cotton plantations. They feed on the grains and pease, dig up the potatoes, which they devour with remarkable greediness; and in the wet fields seize on water insects, toads and frogs, but never, I believe, on fishes.

_Bayou Sara, April 12. 1822._—The Sand-hill Cranes have left all the fields, and removed to the swamps and inner lakes. I saw some catching young bull-frogs, water-lizards, and water-snakes, as well as very small alligators. One struck at a young snapping turtle, which, however, escaped. The Wood Ibises and these birds do not agree together; the latter chase the former up to their bellies in the water.

_April 16._—I saw nine beautiful adult birds apparently in perfect plumage. They were round a fallen log, about twenty yards from the water, all very busily occupied in killing a band of young alligators, which had probably endeavoured to save themselves from the attacks of the Cranes by crawling beneath the sides of the log. I shot at them without much effect, for, although I believe I wounded two of them, they all flew off. On going up to the log, I found several young alligators, measuring from seven to eight inches in length, apparently dead, with their heads sadly bruised as if by a powerful blow. This led me to think that they kill a number of animals before they feed upon them, as the Wood Ibis is wont to do. This afternoon I saw four of these young Cranes tearing up the ground in search of cray-fish. One caught a butterfly as it was fluttering near, and instantly swallowed it.