The CAROLINA PARRAKEET (_Conurus Carolinensis_) is the only parrot found
in North America. Its length is from ten to twelve inches, and the
wing seven inches; the prevailing colour of the plumage is a pleasing
green, darker on the back, and somewhat yellowish on the under part;
the forehead and cheeks are reddish orange, as are likewise the back
of the head, shoulders, and wings. The neck is of a pure gold colour;
the large wing-covers olive-green, with yellow tips; the primary quills
deep purplish black; and the middle tail-covers near the shaft blue. The
female is of a paler colour than the male, and in the young the forehead
is of an uniform green.
The Carolina Parrakeets are found as far as forty-two degrees north
latitude, and seem to be capable of enduring very severe weather, for
Wilson tells us that he saw a flock of them fly screaming along the banks
of the Ohio, during a snow-storm in February. Solitary individuals are
sometimes met with still farther north, even as far as Albany; but these
are only such as have lost their way. The favourite haunts of these birds
are districts overgrown with a weed called wrinkled burdock, the seeds of
which they obtain in spite of its armature of strong thorns; they often
invade plantations in great numbers, and do much damage, destroying far
more than they eat, and are therefore bitterly hated by the owners, and
actively pursued.
We have full particulars of their life and habits from Wilson, Audubon,
and the Prince von Wied. "The Carolina Parrakeet," says Audubon, "eats
or destroys all kinds of fruit, and is on this account most unwelcome to
the planter, the countryman, or the gardener. The stacks of corn in the
fields are often visited by large flocks, which hide them so completely
that they present the appearance of being covered with a brilliantly
coloured carpet; the birds hang round the stacks, draw out the straws,
and destroy twice as much of the corn as is necessary to satisfy their
hunger. They come in crowds to assail the fruit trees in a garden, pluck
the fruits, bite them open and take out the soft and milky kernel,
proceeding industriously from branch to branch, until the tree that had
looked so promising is entirely stripped. It is easy to understand that
these attacks upon their property are avenged by the planters, and that
regular war is waged against the Parrakeets. Ten or twenty of them often
fall at one shot, but the survivors always come back to the same place,
so that many hundreds are killed in the course of a few hours." The
"Carolina Parrakeet," says Wilson, "is a very sociable creature. Should
one of a flock be wounded, the rest instantly return to it, uttering loud
anxious cries, as they settle on the nearest tree. After repeated shots
they will not alter their behaviour, but come nearer and nearer to the
fallen bird, and fly around it with plaintive screams."
It would be hard to find a greater contrast than is noticeable between
the rapid flight of the Carolina Parrakeets and their lame, helpless
movements when on the branches of trees, and still more when on the
ground. They fly in closely-packed masses, rushing along with loud
resounding cries, generally in a direct line, sometimes in graceful
curves, which they seem often to vary for their own amusement. Their
favourite trees are sycamores and plantains, in the hollows of which they
find a resting-place, and hang to the bark like woodpeckers, clinging by
the beak and claws. They sleep a good deal, retiring many times in the
day to their holes to take a nap. They eat salt readily, and for this
reason are always to be found in great numbers near salt works. Wilson
gives us the following information concerning a Carolina Parrakeet that
he tried to keep:--"As I was anxious to learn whether this parrot would
allow itself to be easily tamed, I took one under my care that had been
slightly wounded in the wing. I prepared for him a kind of bower at the
stern of my boat, and threw him burdocks, which he continued to eat from
the time he came on board. The first day was pretty equally divided
between eating and sleeping, and at times he gnawed the bars of his cage.
When I left the river and travelled by land I carried my prisoner with
me in a silk handkerchief, disregarding all the difficulties which such
an undertaking must involve. The road was bad beyond description; there
were dangerous rivers and lakes to swim across, whole miles of morass and
thicket to encounter, and other hindrances to overcome; many times the
parrot came out of my pocket, and I was compelled to dismount to seek
for it amongst the brushwood. When we encamped in forests I placed it on
my little bundle near me, and took it up again in the morning, carrying
it in this manner more than a thousand miles. As soon as I reached the
hunting-ground of the Chickasaws I was surrounded by these people--men,
women, and children--who regarded my companion with great astonishment
and loud laughter, calling it in their language 'Kelinky;' indeed, Polly
was ever after a bond of friendship between us. When I reached my friend
Dunbar's house I procured a cage, and placed it in the verandah; from
whence my captive used to call to the flights of Parrakeets that sped
over the place, and day by day we had numerous troops of them hovering
about, keeping up a lively conversation. One whose wing was slightly
wounded I placed in Polly's cage, to the great delight of the little
solitary, who approached it instantly, and whispered her sympathy at
its accident, stroked its neck and head with her beak, and took it to
her heart at once. The new comer died, and Polly was for many days
inconsolable and restless. I then placed a looking-glass near to the
place where she usually sat. My ruse succeeded, her happiness was
restored, and for a time she was beside herself with joy. It was quite
touching to see her, as evening approached, laying her head on the image
in the glass, and testifying her happiness by a gentle note. After some
time she learned her name, and answered to it; she would climb up my
body, perch on my shoulder, and take bits from my mouth: there is no
doubt that I could have succeeded in training her, had not an unlucky
accident caused her death; she left her cage one morning before I rose,
and was drowned in the Gulf of Mexico."
The Prince von Wied substantiates the preceding account; he found these
Parrakeets in the early spring in enormous numbers near the Mississippi,
and they have been also seen near the Lower Missouri, but never towards
the upper part of that river. The Indians in the neighbourhood of Fort
Union wear the skins of these birds as ornaments on their heads.