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

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

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXIV. Fig. 2.

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

Length 16 inches.

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

THE SOOTY TERN.

_STERNA FULIGINOSA_, LATH.

PLATE CCXXXV. MALE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     STERNA FULIGINOSA, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 804.—_Ch.
     Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 355.

     SOOTY TERN, STERNA FULIGINOSA, _Lath._ Synops. vol. vi. p.
     352.—_Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p. 145. pl. 72. fig.
     7.—_Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 284.

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXV.

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

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

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

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

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

The Female is similar to the Male.

A WILD HORSE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE NIGHT HERON.

_ARDEA NYCTICORAX_, LINN.

PLATE CCXXXVI. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     ARDEA NYCTICORAX, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol.i. p. 235.—_Lath._
     Ind. Ornith. vol.ii. p. 678.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of
     Birds of the United States, p. 306.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Adult Female resembles the Male.

     AMARYLLIS ATAMASCO, _Willd._ Sp. Pl. vol. ii. p. 51. _Pursh_,
     Flora Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 222.

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

THE HUDSONIAN CURLEW.

_NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS_, LATH.

PLATE CCXXXVII. MALE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

     NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p.
     712.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States,
     p. 314.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii.
     p. 377.

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

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

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXVII.

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

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

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

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

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

The Female resembles the male.

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

THE GREAT MARBLED GODWIT.

_LIMOSA FEDOA_, VIEILL.

PLATE CCXXXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

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

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

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

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

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

     LIMOSA FEDOA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the
     United States, p. 328.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor.
     Amer. part ii. p. 395.

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

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXVIII. Fig. 1.

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

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

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

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

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

Adult Female. Plate CCXXXVIII. Fig. 2.

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

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

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

THE AMERICAN COOT.

_FULICA AMERICANA_, GMEL.

PLATE CCXXXIX. MALE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     FULICA AMERICANA, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 779.—_Ch.
     Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 338.

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

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

Adult Male. Plate CCXXXIX.

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

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

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

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

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

THE ROSEATE TERN.

_STERNA DOUGALLII_, MONT.

PLATE CCXL. ADULT.

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

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

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

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

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

     STERNA DOUGALLII, _Mont._ Ornith. Dict.

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

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

Adult Male. Plate CCXL.

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

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

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

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

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

REMINISCENCES OF THOMAS BEWICK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE GREAT BLACK-BACKED GULL.

_LARUS MARINUS_, LINN.

PLATE CCXLI. MALE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     LARUS MARINUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 225.—_Lath._
     Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 813.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis of
     Birds of the United States, p. 362.

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

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCXLI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE SNOWY HERON.

_ARDEA CANDIDISSIMA_, GMEL.

PLATE CCXLII. MALE.

This beautiful species is a constant resident in Florida and
Louisiana, where thousands are seen during winter, and where many
remain during the breeding season. It is perhaps of a still more
delicate constitution than the Blue Heron, _Ardea cœrulea_, as no
individuals remain in the neighbourhood of Charleston when the winter
happens to be rather colder than usual. In its migrations eastward
it rarely proceeds farther than Long Island in the State of New
York; few are seen in Massachusetts, and none farther to the east.
My friend Professor MACCULLOCH never heard of it in Nova Scotia, and
I cannot imagine on what authority WILSON stated that it inhabits
the sea-coast of North America to the Gulf of St Lawrence. My friend