Chapter XVIII: Part 18
There go the little Dobchicks, among the tall rashes and aquatic grasses that border the marsh. They have seen me, and now I watch them as they sink gently backwards into the deep water, in the manner of frightened frogs. Cunning things! “Water-witches,” as they call you, I clearly see your bills, although you have withdrawn all of you save those parts, and sneak off towards yon great bunch of bulrushes. Well, speed on, and may safety attend you! Nature has granted you means of eluding your enemies, and I am heartily glad to see that you have profited by her instructions. I know you can fly too. How happy must you be, to be thus enabled to migrate through the air, instead of being obliged to labour for months with your curiously scolloped feet, in removing from one country to another, as _authors_ say you do. Ah! you have reached a small secluded pool, where you intend to breed in peace and security; there you are, collecting rushes and weeds to form a large matted bed, on which you intend to deposit your pearly eggs. Labour on, mind me not, I am a true friend and admirer of your race. I see that among these plants you have fixed your tenement, in which there will soon be five eggs, which, although tinged with green, will look as if pure white. I wish I knew how many days of constant heat from your bodies it will require to hatch them. Some other time perhaps you may tell me. Miniatures of yourselves I now see swimming gaily, skipping, springing, gliding, dipping, just like yourselves. So, you snatch the crawling bug, and gorge yourselves with leeches, fish, and herbage. How fast your young ones grow, changing from downy to hairy, and again to feathery and silky. On winglets they now cross the clear pool, and crawl on the opposite shore, there enjoying the warmth of the bright sunbeams. September has come; plump and strong seven of you there are; the evening is calm and beautiful; you spread out your wings, reach with some difficulty a proper height, and swift as meteors glide through the air, until, meeting with warmer waters, you alight on them, and there remain for a season.
The Pied-billed Dobchick may be met with in almost every part of the United States, at one season or other: in the south and west during autumn and winter, in the east and north-west in spring and summer, mostly on fresh waters of all descriptions, yet when these are covered with ice, on bays and estuaries, where it searches for shrimps and fry, although under other circumstances such haunts are not congenial to it. It is found in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, but I did not meet with it in Labrador or Newfoundland.
I had the good fortune, on the 28th of June, to stumble upon a nest of this bird near the banks of the Wabash river, above Vincennes. It was large for the bird, raised several inches above the muddy and reedy shores of a pond, only a few feet from the water, and composed of decayed weeds, rushes, and earth. On being discovered, the sitting bird slid over the mud, along a path that led directly to the water, in which it immediately dived, and I saw no more of it for about twenty minutes. The eggs, which were five, measured an inch and a quarter, by seven and a half-eighths, were smooth, rather rounded, and of a light greenish-white colour. On breaking one of them, I found it to contain a chick considerably advanced, which induced me to leave the rest untouched, and before I departed I saw the bird, which I believed to be the female, swimming low at a distance. I watched it for some time, but could not discover another, and walked away to allow it to resume its occupation. The nest was fixed among the stalks of strong reeds, but was not attached to any of them. In the month of August, while on the Cayuga lakes, I saw one of these birds with a brood of young about half grown, but could not obtain a single specimen, as they dived with extreme quickness, and eluded all pursuit.
Few birds plunge with more rapidity than this species, which, during submersion, employs its wings, as I had an opportunity of observing while some were passing under a boat when I was in pursuit of them. On the water it is almost impossible to catch them, unless they have been injured in the wing, when they are unable to dive without difficulty. The curious habit which they have of sinking gradually backward in the water, at the sight of an enemy, is very pleasing to observe. Not a ripple do they leave on the spot where they have disappeared, and one unacquainted with them can hardly conceive that a bird could have escaped in so dexterous a manner. My friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH gave me an account of one which, having been observed on a small mill-dam, was pursued by the miller’s sons, who, after chasing it fully an hour, could not even drive it on shore. Their father, however, who was as anxious as themselves to see the curious creature, drained the pond, when the little thing was seen crawling over the mud in a manner not unlike that of a turtle. It was now easily caught, as it was not able to rise on wing, the species, it seems, being incapable of springing from the ground, and was afterwards given to my young friend, who presented it beautifully prepared to me.
While I was at Philadelphia, my learned and staunch friend Dr RICHARD HARLAN, received two Pied-billed Grebes alive, which had been caught in a fishing-net on Brandy wine Creek. We placed them in a large tub of water, where we could see all their subaqueous movements. They swam round the sides of the tub in the manner of the Puffin, moving their wings in accordance with their feet, and continued so a much longer time than one could suppose it possible for them to remain under water, coming up to breathe, and plunging again with astonishing celerity. When placed on the carpet, they ran awkwardly half erect, for a distance of a few feet, tumbled over, and scrambled along with the aid of their wings. Nothing could induce them to eat, and after a day or two of captivity, the little creatures were taken to the Delaware, and set at liberty.
This bird retires to rest on the floating beds of rushes met with in ponds, or on the edges of the shores; and in such places you may see it sitting upright, and dressing its plumage in the sunshine. They are extremely unwilling to rise on wing, unless during their migrations, or when chasing each other at the pairing season, which commences in March, when they manifest a good deal of pugnacity. On such occasions, the males fly, dive, and rise again on wing, in the manner of the Foolish Guillemot. While travelling, they pass rapidly through the air, at times at a considerable elevation, when the movements of their wings produce a sound like that of a hawk stooping on its prey. They are seldom found in parties of more than six or seven. The idea of their migrating by water is quite absurd. How long would it take a Dobchick to swim from the mouths of the Mississippi to the head waters of the Ohio; and when arrived there, after six or seven weeks of constant paddling, how is he to proceed farther? Yet it is well known that they breed farther north, and are general on the southern waters early in October.
The food of the Pied-billed Dobchick consists of small fry, plants, seeds, aquatic insects, and snails; along with which they swallow gravel. On opening several individuals, in different parts of the Union, I observed in their gizzards a quantity of hair and feather-like substance, for which I could not account, but which I at length found to be the down of certain plants, such as thistles, the seeds remaining undigested and attached to it. My friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH made the same observation on examining some at Pictou in Nova Scotia, and I have found similar substances in the stomach of many individuals of _Podiceps cristatus_.
The Pied-billed Bobchicks seem to form particular attachments to certain ponds or small lakes, where, until they are closed by ice, you may always observe a pair or a family. Opposite Henderson I regularly saw a couple every autumn, and my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN has observed a group of them for many winters in a small pond a few miles distant from Charleston. They seem to have a dislike to swift-running streams, and when on them keep to the eddies along the shores. The curious double pectination on the hind part of their tarsi, seems to aid them greatly while sitting upright on the broad leaves of water-lilies, on the surface of which I have observed indented impressions after the birds had plunged into the water from them. The young differ in colour from the adult, but the old males and females resemble each other, only the former are larger.
PODICEPS CAROLINENSIS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p.
785.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States,
p. 418.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii.
p. 412.
PIED-BILL DOBCHICK, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 259.
Adult Male. Plate CCXLVIII. Fig. 1.
Bill shorter than the head, stout, deep, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line nearly straight at the base, curved towards the end, the ridge slightly flattened for a short space at the base, narrow in the rest of its extent, the sides convex towards the end, the edges sharp, inflected, the tip obtuse, a little decurved. Nasal groove broad, and extending beyond the middle of the mandible; nostrils elliptical, lateral, sub-medial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and narrow, the sides nearly erect, but convex, the dorsal line very short and sloping upwards, the edges inflected, the tips narrow, the gape-line nearly straight.
Head rather small, oblong, compressed; neck rather long; body depressed. Feet placed far behind, short, stout; tibia bare for a very short space below; tarsus short, much compressed, thin before and behind, anteriorly scutellate, on the sides with large scutelliform scales, posteriorly rough, with a double row of very small scales. Hind toe very small and situated high; fourth toe longest, third a little shorter, second much shorter; anterior toes connected by webs, which beyond the second joint are slit and rounded, the outer edges of the second and fourth furnished with broad lobed membranes; the lobes are marked with parallel grooves, directed a little forwards. Claws of fore toes depressed, that of middle toe resembling a human nail.
Plumage blended, on the forehead with stiff enlarged shafts, as in the Rails, on the back shining and rather hard, as well as on the lower part of the neck anteriorly and laterally, on the rest of the lower parts glossy and hair-like. Wings very small; primary quills curved, the second longest, first slightly shorter, third longer than first; secondary short, broad, rounded, the inner elongated and more tapering. Tail a slight tuft of loose feathers.
Bill pale blue, upper mandible dusky along the ridge, and with the lower having a black spot beyond the middle. Iris brown. Feet greyish-black. Upper part of the head and the throat black; neck and sides of the head light greyish-brown, the stiff edges of the feathers on the lower part and sides of the neck greyish-yellow; back brownish-black, as are the inner secondaries; the outer light brown, with a reddish-white spot on the end of the inner web; primaries light brown, dusky at the end. The breast is silvery white, the abdomen brownish-grey, and the sides mottled with the same.
Length to end of tail 14 inches, to end of wings 12, to end of claws 18; extent of wings 23: wing from flexure 4-10/12; bill along the ridge 10/12; along the edge of lower mandible 1-4/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 2, its claw 4/12. Weight 15 oz.
Adult Female. Plate CCXLVIII. Fig. 2.
The Female wants the black band on the bill; but is in other respects nearly similar to the male. Weight 13 oz.
THE TUFTED PUFFIN.
_MORMON CIRRHATUS_, TEMM.
PLATE CCXLIX. MALE.
The specimen from which I drew the figure of this singular looking bird, was procured at the mouth of the Kennebeck River, in Maine. It was shot by a fisherman gunner, while standing on some floating ice, in the winter of 1831-32. No other individual was seen. I could not obtain any information respecting its habits; but as the bird was in tolerable order, I hope that my figures of it will prove not unacceptable. It was a male, and appeared to be adult. My friend, the Prince of Musignano, mentions this species as being an inhabitant of the seas between North America and Kamtschatka, being, he adds, often found on the western coasts of the United States in winter.
ALCA CIRRHATA, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 791.
MORMON CIRRHATUS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
United States, p. 429.
TUFTED MORMON OR PUFFIN, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 539.
Adult Male. Plate CCXLIX. Fig. 1, 2.
Bill about the length of the head, nearly as high as long, extremely compressed, at the base as high as the head, furrowed on the sides. Upper mandible with a horny rim along the basal margin, its dorsal line convex to the middle, or along the extent of a long, narrow, rounded dorsal prominence, which extends from the base to the first groove, afterwards curved in the fourth of a circle, the ridge narrow, in its basal half rounded, narrower and rather sharp towards the end, the sides slightly convex, and marked with four curved transverse grooves, between the nostril and the tip, the edges rather blunt, nearly straight until close to the decurved, narrow, obtuse tip. The basal rim is scrobiculate, the rest of the mandible smooth. The nostrils are linear, direct, close to the edge, and near the base. Lower mandible with the angle extremely short and narrow, the dorsal line nearly straight and ascending, the sides slightly concave, without grooves, the ridge narrow but convex, the tip very narrow, obliquely truncate. The gape extends downwards a little beyond the base of the bill, and is furnished with a soft corrugated extensible membrane.
Head large, oblong, anteriorly compressed; eye of moderate size, with the edges of the eyelids bare; neck short and thick; body full and rounded. Feet short, rather stout; tibia bare for a short space above the joint; tarsus very short, anteriorly with a series of small scutella, the rest with small roundish scales. Hind toe wanting; toes of moderate length, rather slender, scutellate above, connected by reticulated entire membranes, the third toe longest, the fourth little shorter, the second considerably shorter, with a narrow marginal web. Claws strong, of moderate length, compressed, arched, that of the inner toe much curved, of the middle toe with a thin inner edge.
Plumage close, blended, soft, very short on the head, where, however, along a line over and behind the eye, there is on each side a tuft of long, very slender, acute incurved feathers, of a shining hair-like texture. Wings rather short, curved, narrow, acute; primary quills narrow, incurved, first longest, second slightly shorter, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries very short, small and rounded. Tail very short, slightly rounded, of sixteen narrow rounded decurved feathers.
Bill light yellowish-red, the basal rim and the ridge towards the end of the upper mandible bright red, as is the edge of the eyelids. Iris light blue. Feet bright red; webs of a deeper tint; claws black. Sides of the head white; upper part brownish-black; the elongated feathers behind the eye pale yellow. The general colour of the upper parts is brownish-black, glossed with blue, of the lower deep purplish-brown.
Length to end of tail 15 inches, to end of wings 14, to end of claws 14; extent of wings 22-1/2; wing from flexure 8-4/12; tail 2-1/4; bill along the ridge 2-3/4, along the edge of lower mandible 1-11/12; tarsus 1-5/12; middle toe 1-10/12, its claw 7/12.
THE ARCTIC TERN.
_STERNA ARCTICA_, TEMM.
PLATE CCL. MALE.
Light as a sylph, the Arctic Tern dances through the air above and around you. The graces, one might imagine, had taught it to perform those beautiful gambols which you see it display the moment you approach the spot which it has chosen for its nest. Over many a league of ocean has it passed, regardless of the dangers and difficulties that might deter a more considerate traveller. Now over some solitary green isle, a creek or an extensive bay, it sweeps, now over the expanse of the boundless sea; at length it has reached the distant regions of the north, and amidst the floating icebergs stoops to pick up a shrimp. It betakes itself to the borders of a lonely sand-bank, or a low rocky island; there side by side the males and the females alight, and congratulate each other on the happy termination of their long journey. Little care is required to form a cradle for their progeny; in a short time the variegated eggs are deposited, the little Terns soon burst the shell, and in a few days hobble towards the edge of the water, as if to save their fond parents trouble; feathers now sprout on their wings, and gradually invest their whole body; the young birds at length rise on wing, and follow their friends to sea. But now the brief summer of the north is ended, dark clouds obscure the sun, a snow-storm advances from the polar lands, and before it skim the buoyant Terns, rejoicing at the prospect of returning to the southern regions.
The day after our arrival at the Magdaleine Islands, the weather was beautiful, although a stiff breeze blew from the south-west. I landed with my party at an early hour, and we felt as if at a half-way house on our journey from Nova Scotia to Labrador. Some of us ascended the more elevated parts of those interesting islands, while others walked along the shores. A clean sand-beach lay before us, and we proceeded over it, until having reached a kind of peninsula, we were brought to a stand. The Piping Plover ran and flew swiftly before us, emitting its soft and mellow notes, while some dozens of Arctic Terns were plunging into the waters, capturing a tiny fish or shrimp at every dash. Until that moment this Tern had not been familiar to me, and as I admired its easy and graceful motions, I felt agitated with a desire to possess it. Our guns were accordingly charged with mustard-seed shot, and one after another you might have seen the gentle birds come whirling down upon the waters. But previous to this I had marked their mode of flight, their manner of procuring their prey, and their notes, that I might be able to finish the picture from life. Alas, poor things! how well do I remember the pain it gave me, to be thus obliged to pass and execute sentence upon them. At that very moment I thought of those long-past times, when individuals of my own species were similarly treated; but I excused myself with the plea of necessity, as I recharged my double gun. As soon as a sufficient number of males and females lay dead at our feet, we retired from the water’s edge, to watch the motions of the survivors, among whom confusion and dismay prevailed, as they dashed close over our heads, and vociferated their maledictions. We did not, however, depart until we had tried a curious experiment for the third time. A female had been shot, and lay dead on the water for a considerable while. Her mate, whom I was unwilling to destroy, alighted upon her, and attempted to caress her, as if she had been alive. The same circumstance took place three different times, on our throwing the dead bird on the water. Something of the same nature I have related in my article on the Wild Turkey. All this happened in the month of June 1833, when none of the Arctic Terns had yet produced eggs, although we found them nearly ready to lay, as were the Piping Plovers.
Our schooner now sailed onward, and carried us to the dreary shores of Labrador. There, after some search, we met with a great flock of Arctic Terns breeding on a small island slightly elevated above the sea. Myriads of these birds were there sitting on their eggs. The individuals were older than those which we had seen on the Magdeleine Islands; for the more advanced in life the individuals of any species are, the more anxious are they to reproduce, the sooner do they proceed to their summer residence, and the more extensive is the range of their migration northward. On the other hand, the younger the bird is, the farther south it removes during winter, both because it thus enjoys a milder climate, and requires less exertion in procuring its food; whereas the older individuals not only have a stronger constitution, but are more expert in discovering and securing their prey, so that it is not necessary for them to extend their journey so far.
The Arctic Tern is found with us on the eastern coasts of the United States only, where it appears, from the shores of New Jersey northwards, in autumn, and whence it departs in early spring. No sooner have the winter tempests subsided, than it is observed gliding along the coast, together with many other birds. In the beginning of March, you see it following the sinuosities of the shores, some passing directly from the Sable Islands off the Bay of Fundy and Newfoundland into Baffin’s Bay; others, younger, and unwilling to encounter the perils of a more extended flight, passing up the Gulf of St Lawrence, either through the Straits of Cansso, or the broader channel between Cape Breton and Newfoundland, and betaking themselves to the Magdaleine Islands and the coasts of Labrador.
While at American Harbour in June 1833, my son and some of his companions met with a low rocky island, on which hundreds of these Terns had deposited their eggs. No other species was seen there; the birds were mostly sitting, and, on the landing of the party, they all rose as if in the greatest consternation, hovered over their heads, and left their eggs to the mercy of the intruders who carried off a basketful of them, with a few of the birds themselves.
On the 18th of the same month, the Arctic Terns were found breeding on another island in considerable numbers; many dozens of their eggs were gathered, and delicious food indeed they proved to be. The full number of their eggs is three, but as it was early in the season many had only two. Their average dimensions were an inch and a quarter in length, and five-eighths in their greatest breadth; they were oval, but rather sharp at the smaller ends; their ground-colour a light-olive, irregularly covered with patches of dark umber, larger towards the round end. They were deposited on the rocks wherever there was any grass, but no nest had been formed for their reception. They differed extremely in their colour, indeed quite as much as those of the Sandwich Tern. As we approached the little island, they all rose in the air, and flew high over our heads, screaming loudly, which they continued to do until we left the place. Several were shot, and as each fell the rest immediately plunged through the air after it. Whenever one was wounded so slightly as to be able to make off, it was lost to us, and the rest followed it. Only a very few of those which we saw and shot had the bill entirely red, and those which had were evidently older birds. Some exhibited a considerable portion of the point tinged with brownish-black, yet all of them could easily be distinguished from the _Sterna Hirundo_, first by their smaller size, shorter tarsi, more delicate bill, and greater curvature of the outer part of their wings; and secondly, by the leaden tint of their lower parts, from the neck to the tail, those parts in _Sterna Hirundo_ being pure white. The back is also of a deeper blue in the Arctic Tern. The long tail-feathers were much shorter in the females than in the males, but M. TEMMINCK is wrong in saying that this bird has the tail proportionally longer than that of other species, the Roseate Tern having it of much greater length, considering its diminutive size.
At the beginning of the first autumn, the plumage of the young so much resembles that of the young of _Sterna Hirundo_, that a person, not paying attention to the tarsi and feet, might readily confound them together. Yet even at this early age, there are strong indications of the bluish tint on the under parts. The longest tail-feathers at this period do not extend more than two inches beyond the rest; the upper parts of the body are mottled with brown, as in all the other species, and in Gulls. The mantle of this, as of all other Terns, assumes its permanent hue before any part of the wings. On the 5th of August, in Labrador, the young birds were gambolling along with their parents, over the shores of Bras d’Or Harbour, and when we left that country the Terns still remained, so that I am unable to state at what particular period they commence their journey southward.
The notes of this species resemble the syllables _creek_, _creek_, and are often repeated while the bird is on wing. During autumn it follows the sinuosities of the shores of the bays and inlets, ascending against the ebb, and, returning to meet the tide, which enables it to procure its food in succession while it keeps on its course. I have only farther to mention a curious fact, which is, that all the Terns which breed in the northern parts of the United States, and in regions still nearer the pole, sit closely on their eggs, while the small species that breed to the southward incubate only during night, or in rainy weather.
STERNA ARCTICA, _Temm._ Man. d’Ornith. part ii. p. 742.—_Ch.
Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p.
354.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii. p.
414.
ARCTIC TERN, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 275.
Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCL.
Bill about the same length as the head, slender, tapering, compressed, nearly straight, very acute. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge rather broad and convex at the base, narrow towards the end, the sides convex, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip acute. Nasal groove extended beyond the nostrils nearly to the tip; nostrils basal, linear, direct, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow, very acute, extending beyond the middle, the dorsal line straight, the sides erect and slightly convex, the sharp edges inflected, the tip extremely acute.
Head of moderate size, oblong; neck of moderate length; body very slender. Feet very small; tibia bare for a considerable space; tarsus extremely short, slender, roundish, covered anteriorly with small scutella, laterally and behind with reticular scales; toes very small, slender, the first extremely small, the third longest, the fourth nearly as long, the second much shorter, all scutellate above, the anterior connected by reticulated webs having a concave margin; claws arched, compressed, acute, that of hind toe smallest, of middle toe by much the largest, and having the inner edge thin and dilated.
Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the fore part of the head; the feathers in general broad and rounded. Wings very long, narrow and pointed; primary quills tapering, slightly curved inwards, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated; secondary short, broad, incurved, rounded, the inner more tapering. Tail long, very deeply forked, of twelve feathers, of which the outer are tapering, the middle short and rounded.
Bill, mouth, and feet vermilion tinged with carmine. Iris brown. The upper part of the head and elongated occipital feathers greenish-black; the sides of the head and chin white; the upper parts pale greyish-blue, the rump lighter, the tail white, excepting the outer webs of the two lateral feathers which are dusky grey, primaries dusky towards the ends, the two outer with their outer webs blackish, all with the greater part of the inner web white; secondaries tipped with white. Neck, breast and sides pale greyish-blue, like the upper parts, but lighter; abdomen, under tail-coverts, and lower surfaces of wings and tail white.
Length to end of tail 15-1/2 inches, to end of wings 13-1/2, to end of claws 9-3/4; extent of wings 32; wing from flexure 10-1/2; tail to end of shortest feathers 3-1/4, to end of longest 7-1/2; bill along the ridge 1-1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 1-10/12; tarsus 8/12; middle toe (8-1/2)/12, its claw (2-1/2)/12. Weight 2-3/4 oz.
A TOUGH WALK FOR A YOUTH.
About twelve years ago I was conveyed, along with my son VICTOR, from Bayou Sarah to the mouth of the Ohio, on board the steamer Magnet, commanded by Mr M’KNIGHT, to whom I here again offer my best thanks for his attentions. The very sight of the waters of that beautiful river filled me with joy as we approached the little village of Trinity, where we were landed along with several other passengers, the water being too low to enable the vessel to proceed to Louisville. No horses could be procured, and as I was anxious to continue my journey without delay, I consigned my effects to the care of the tavern-keeper, who engaged to have them forwarded by the first opportunity. My son, who was not fourteen, with all the ardour of youth, considered himself able to accomplish on foot the long journey which we contemplated. Two of the passengers evinced a desire to accompany us, “provided,” said the tallest and stoutest of them, “the lad can keep up. My business,” he continued, “is urgent, and I shall push for Frankfort pretty fast.” Dinner, to which we had contributed some fish from the river, being over, my boy and I took a ramble along the shores of Cash Creek, on which some years before I had been detained several weeks by ice. We slept at the tavern, and next morning prepared for our journey, and were joined by our companions, although it was past twelve before we crossed the creek.
One of our fellow-travellers, named ROSE, who was a delicate and gentlemanly person, acknowledged that he was not a good walker, and said he was glad that my son was with us, as he might be able to keep up with the lively youth. The other, a burly personage, at once pushed forward. We walked in Indian file along the narrow track cut through the canes, passed a wood-yard, and entered the burnt forest, in which we met with so many logs and briars, that we judged it better to make for the river, the course of which we followed over a bed of pebbles, my son sometimes a-head, and again falling back, until we reached America, a village having a fine situation, but with a shallow approach to the shore. Here we halted at the best house, as every traveller ought to do, whether pedestrian or equestrian, for he is there sure of being well treated, and will not have more to pay than in an inferior place. Now we constituted Mr ROSE purser. We had walked twelve miles over rugged paths and pebbly shores, and soon proceeded along the edge of the river. Seven tough miles ended, we found a house near the bank, and in it we determined to pass the night. The first person we met with was a woman picking cotton in a small field. On asking her if we might stay in her cabin for the night, she answered we might, and hoped we could make a shift with the fare on which she and her husband lived. While she went to the house to prepare supper, I took my son and Mr ROSE to the water, knowing how much we should be refreshed by a bath. Our fellow-traveller refused, and stretched himself on a bench by the door. The sun was setting; thousands of robins were flying southward in the calm and clear air; the Ohio was spread before us smooth as a mirror, and into its waters we leaped with pleasure. In a short time the goodman of the hut called us to supper, and in a trice we were at his heels. He was a tall raw-boned fellow, with an honest bronzed face. After our frugal meal, we all four lay down in a large bed spread on the floor, while the good people went up to a loft.
The woodsman having, agreeably to our instructions, roused us at day-break, told us that about seven miles farther we should meet with a breakfast much better than the last supper we had. He refused any pecuniary compensation, but accepted from me a knife. So we again started. My dear boy appeared very weak at first, but soon recovered, and our stout companion, whom I shall call S., evidently shewed symptoms of lassitude. On arriving at the cabin of a lazy man blessed with an industrious wife and six healthy children, all of whom laboured for his support, we were welcomed by the woman, whose motions and language indicated her right to belong to a much higher class. Better breakfast I never ate: the bread was made of new corn ground on a tin-grater by the beautiful hands of our blue-eyed hostess; the chickens had been prepared by one of her lovely daughters; some good coffee was added, and my son had fresh milk. The good woman, who now held a babe to her bosom, seemed pleased to see how heartily we all ate; the children went to work, and the lazy husband went to the door to smoke a corn-cob pipe. A dollar was put into the ruddy hand of the chubby urchin, and we bade its mother farewell. Again we trudged along the beach, but after a while betook ourselves to the woods. My son became faint. Dear boy! never can I forget how he lay exhausted on a log, large tears rolling down his cheeks. I bathed his temples, spoke soothingly to him, and chancing to see a fine turkey cock run close by, directed his attention to it, when, as if suddenly refreshed, he got up and ran a few yards towards the bird. From that moment he seemed to acquire new vigour, and at length we reached Wilcox’s, where we stopped for the night. We were reluctantly received at the house, and had little attention paid to us, but we had a meal and went to bed.
The sun rose in all its splendour, and the Ohio reflected its ruddy beams. A finer view of that river can scarcely be obtained than that from the house which we were leaving. Two miles through intricate woods brought us to Belgrade, and having passed Fort Massacre, we halted and took breakfast. S. gave us to understand that the want of roads made travelling very unpleasant; he was not, he added, in the habit of “skulking through the bushes or tramping over stony bars in the full sunshine,” but how else he had travelled was not explained. Mr ROSE kept up about as well as VICTOR, and I now led the way. Towards sunset we reached the shores of the river, opposite the mouth of the Cumberland. On a hill, the property of a Major B., we found a house, and a solitary woman, wretchedly poor, but very kind. She assured us, that if we could not cross the river, she would give us food and shelter for the night, but said that as the moon was up, she could get us put over when her skiff came back. Hungry and fatigued we laid us down on the brown grass, waiting either a scanty meal, or the skiff that was to convey us across the river. I had already grated the corn for our supper, run down the chickens, and made a fire, when a cry of “Boat coming” roused us all. We crossed half of the Ohio, walked over Cumberland Isle, and after a short ferry found ourselves in Kentucky, the native land of my beloved sons. I was now within a few miles of the spot where, some years before, I had a horse killed under me by lightning.
It is unnecessary to detain you with a long narrative, and state every occurrence until we reached the banks of Green River. We had left Trinity at 12 o’clock of the 15th October, and on the morning of the 18th four travellers descending a hill, were admiring the reflection of the sun’s rays on the forest-margined horizon. The frost which lay thick on the ground and the fences, glittered in the sheen, and dissolved away; all nature seemed beautiful in its calm repose; but the pleasure which I felt on gazing on the scene was damped by the fatigue of my son, who now limped like a lamed turkey, although, as the rest of the party were not much better off, he smiled, straightened himself, and strove to keep up with us. Poor S. was panting many yards behind, and was talking of purchasing a horse. We had now, however, a tolerably good road, and in the evening got to a house where I inquired if we could have a supper and beds. When I came out, VICTOR was asleep on the grass, Mr ROSE looking at his sore toes, and S. just finishing a jug of monongahela. Here we resolved that, instead of going by Henderson, we should take a cut across to the right, and make direct for Smith’s Ferry, by way of Highland Lick Creek.
Next day we trudged along, but nothing very remarkable occurred excepting that we saw a fine black wolf quite tame and gentle, the owner of which had refused a hundred dollars for it. Mr ROSE, who was an engineer, and a man of taste, amused us with his flageolet, and frequently spoke of his wife, his children, and his fireside, which increased my good opinion of him. At an orchard we filled our pockets with October peaches, and when we came to Trade Water River we found it quite low. The acorns were already drifted on its shallows, and the Wood Ducks were running about picking them up. Passing a flat bottom, we saw a large Buffalo Lick. Where now are the bulls which erst scraped its earth away, bellowing forth their love or their anger?
Good Mr ROSE’s feet became sorer and sorer each succeeding day; Mr S. at length nearly gave up; my son had grown brisker. The 20th was cloudy, and we dreaded rain, as we knew the country to be flat and clayey. In Union County, we came to a large opening, and found the house of a Justice, who led us kindly to the main road, and accompanied us for a mile, giving us excellent descriptions of brooks, woods and barrens, notwithstanding which we should have been much puzzled, had not a neighbour on horseback engaged to shew us the way. The rain now fell in torrents, and rendered us very uncomfortable, but at length we reached Highland Lick, where we stumbled on a cabin, the door of which we thrust open, overturning a chair that had been placed behind it. On a dirty bed lay a man, a table with a journal or perhaps a ledger before him, a small cask in a corner near him, a brass pistol on a nail over his head, and a long Spanish dagger by his side. He rose and asked what was wanted. “The way to a better place, the road to SUGGS’s.” “Follow the road, and you’ll get to his house in about five miles!” My party were waiting for me, warming themselves by the fires of the salt-kettles. The being I had seen was an overseer. By-and-by we crossed a creek; the country was hilly, clayey and slippery; Mr S. was cursing, ROSE limped like a lame duck, but VICTOR kept up like a veteran.
Another day, kind Reader, and I shall for a while shut my journal. The morning of the 21st was beautiful; we had slept comfortably at SUGGS’s, and we soon found ourselves on pleasant barrens, with an agreeable road. ROSE and S. were so nearly knocked up, that they proposed to us to go on without them. We halted and talked a few minutes on the subject, when our companions stated their resolution to proceed at a slower pace. So we bade them adieu. I asked my son how he felt; he laughed and quickened his steps; and in a short time our former associates were left out of sight. In about two hours we were seated in the Green River ferry-boat, with our legs hanging in the water. At Smith’s Ferry this stream looks like a deep lake; and the thick cane on its banks, the large overhanging willows, and its dark green waters, never fail to form a fine picture, more especially in the calm of an autumnal evening. Mr SMITH gave us a good supper, sparkling cider, and a comfortable bed. It was arranged that he should drive us to Louisville in his dearborne; and so here ended our walk of two hundred and fifty miles. Should you wish to accompany us during the remainder of our journey, I have only to refer you to the article “Hospitality in the Woods,” which you will find in a former volume.
THE BROWN PELICAN.
_PELECANUS FUSCUS_, LINN.
PLATE CCLI. MALE.
The Brown Pelican, which is one of the most interesting of our American birds, is a constant resident in the Floridas, where it resorts to the Keys and the salt-water inlets, but never enters fresh-water streams, as the White Pelican is wont to do. It is rarely seen farther eastward than Cape Hatteras, but is found to the south far beyond the limits of the United States. Within the recollection of persons still living, its numbers have been considerably reduced, so much indeed that in the inner Bay of Charleston, where twenty or thirty years ago it was quite abundant, very few individuals are now seen, and these chiefly during a continuance of tempestuous weather. There is a naked bar, a few miles distant from the main land, between Charleston and the mouth of the Santee, on which my friend JOHN BACHMAN some years ago saw a great number of these birds, of which he procured several; but at the present day, few are known to breed farther east than the salt-water inlets running parallel to the coast of Florida, forty or fifty miles south of St Augustine, where I for the first time met with this Pelican in considerable numbers.
My friend JOHN BULLOW, Esq. took me in his barge to visit the Halifax, which is a large inlet, and on which we soon reached an island where the Brown Pelicans had bred for a number of years, but where, to my great disappointment, none were then to be seen. The next morning, being ten or twelve miles farther down the stream, we entered another inlet, where I saw several dozens of these birds perched on the mangroves, and apparently sound asleep. I shot at them from a very short distance, and with my first barrel brought two to the water, but although many of them still remained looking at us, I could not send the contents of my second barrel to them, as the shot had unluckily been introduced into it before the powder. They all flew off one after another, and still worse, as the servants approached those which had fallen upon the water, they also flew away.
On arriving at the Keys of Florida, on board the Marion Revenue Cutter, I found the Pelicans pretty numerous. They became more abundant the farther south we proceeded, and I procured specimens at different places, but nowhere so many as at Key West. There you would see them flying within pistol-shot of the wharfs, the boys frequently trying to knock them down with stones, although I believe they rarely succeed in their efforts. The Marion lay at anchor several days at a short distance from this island, and close to another. Scarcely an hour of daylight passed without our having Pelicans around us, all engaged at their ordinary occupations, some fishing, some slumbering as it were on the bosom of the ocean, or on the branches of the mangroves. This place and all around for about forty miles, seemed to be favourite resorts of these birds; and as I had excellent opportunities of observing their habits, I consider myself qualified to present you with some account of them.
The flight of the Brown Pelican, though to appearance heavy, is remarkably well sustained, that bird being able not only to remain many hours at a time on wing, but also to mount to a great height in the air to perform its beautiful evolutions. Their ordinary manner of proceeding, either when single or in flocks, is by easy flappings and sailings alternating at distances of from twenty to thirty yards, when they glide along with great speed. They move in an undulated line, passing at one time high, at another low, over the water or land, for they do not deviate from their course on coming upon a key or a point of land. When the waves run high, you may see them “troughing,” as the sailors say, or directing their course along the hollows. While on wing they draw in their head between their shoulders, stretch out their broad webbed feet to their whole extent, and proceed in perfect silence.
When the weather is calm, and a flood of light and heat is poured down upon nature by the genial sun, they are often, especially during the love season, seen rising in broad circles, flock after flock, until they attain a height of perhaps a mile, when they gracefully glide on constantly expanded wings, and course round each other, for an hour or more at a time, after which, in curious zigzags, and with remarkable velocity, they descend towards their beloved element, and settle on the water, on large sand-bars or on mangroves. It is interesting beyond description to observe flocks of Brown Pelicans thus going through their aërial evolutions.
Now, Reader, look at those birds standing on their strong column-like legs, on that burning sand-bar. How dexterously do they wield that great bill of theirs, as they trim their plumage! Now along each broad quill it passes, drawing it out and displaying its elasticity; and now with necks stretched to their full length, and heads elevated, they direct its point in search of the insects that are concealed along their necks and breasts. Now they droop their wings for a while, or stretch them alternately to their full extent; some slowly lie down on the sand, others remain standing, quietly draw their head over their broad shoulders, raise one of their feet, and placing their bill on their back, compose themselves to rest. There let them repose in peace. Had they alighted on the waters, you might have seen them, like a fleet at anchor, riding on the ever-rolling billows as unconcernedly as if on shore. Had they perched on yon mangroves, they would have laid themselves flat on the branches, or spread their wings to the sun or the breeze, as Vultures are wont to do.
But see, the tide is advancing; the billows chase each other towards the shores; the mullets joyful and keen leap along the surface, as they fill the bays with their multitudes. The slumbers of the Pelicans are over; the drowsy birds shake their heads, stretch open their mandibles and pouch by way of yawning, expand their ample wings, and simultaneously soar away. Look at them as they fly over the bay; listen to the sound of the splash they make as they drive their open bills, like a pock-net, into the sea, to scoop up their prey; mark how they follow that shoal of porpoises, and snatch up the frightened fishes that strive to escape from them. Down they go, again and again. What voracious creatures they are!
The Brown Pelicans are as well aware of the time of each return of the tide, as the most watchful pilots. Though but a short time before they have been sound asleep, yet without bell or other warning, they suddenly open their eyelids, and all leave their roosts, the instant when the waters, which have themselves reposed for a while, resume their motion. The Pelicans possess a knowledge beyond this, and in a degree much surpassing that of man with reference to the same subject: they can judge with certainty of the changes of weather. Should you see them fishing all together, in retired bays, be assured, that a storm will burst forth that day; but if they pursue their finny prey far out at sea, the weather will be fine, and you also may launch your bark and go to the fishing. Indeed, most sea-birds possess the same kind of knowledge, as I have assured myself by repeated observation, in a degree corresponding to their necessities; and the best of all prognosticators of the weather, are the Wild Goose, the Gannet, the Lestris, and the Pelican.
This species procures its food on wing, and in a manner quite different from that of the White Pelican. A flock will leave their resting place, proceed over the waters in search of fish, and when a shoal is perceived, separate at once, when each, from an elevation of from fifteen to twenty-five feet, plunges in an oblique and somewhat winding direction, spreading to the full stretch its lower mandible and pouch, as it reaches the water, and suddenly scoops up the object of its pursuit, immersing the head and neck, and sometimes the body, for an instant. It immediately swallows its prey, rises on wing, dashes on another fish, seizes and devours it, and thus continues, sometimes plunging eight or ten times in a few minutes, and always with unerring aim. When gorged, it rests on the water for a while, but if it has a brood, or a mate sitting on her eggs, it flies off at once towards them, no matter how heavily laden it may be. The generally received idea that Pelicans keep fish or water in their pouch, to convey them to their young, is quite erroneous. The water which enters the pouch when it is immersed, is immediately forced out between the partially closed mandibles, and the fish, unless larger than those on which they usually feed, is instantly swallowed, to be afterwards disgorged for the benefit of the young, either partially macerated, or whole, according to the age and size of the latter. Of all this I have satisfied myself, when within less than twenty yards of the birds as they were fishing; and I never saw them fly without the pouch being closely contracted towards the lower mandible. Indeed, although I now much regret that I did not make the experiment when I had the means of doing so, I doubt very much if a Pelican could fly at all with its burden so much out of trim, as a sailor would say.
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
Ornithological biography, Vol. 3 (of 5)Chapter XVIII: Part 18
0%36 min left in chapter