_Trochilus polytmus._
_Trochilus polytmus_, +Linn.+
_Ornismya cephalatra_, +Less.+—Ois. M. xvii.
[23] Male. Length 10¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 6³⁄₈, tail, longest feather
7¹⁄₂, outmost feather 1³⁄₄, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, rictus 1, tarsus ²⁄₁₀,
middle toe ⁵⁄₂₀.
Irides black; beak coral-red, the tip black; feet purplish-brown,
soles paler. Crown, hind head, and nape deep velvety black,
very slightly glossed; back, rump, wing and tail-coverts, rich
golden-green; wings purplish-black, the outer edge of the first
primary whitish; second primary longest; tail deep black, with
bluish gloss, the uropygials, and the outer edges of the others
glossed with golden-green, varying in intensity. The tail is
slightly forked, the feathers regularly graduating from the
uropygials outwards, save that the outmost but one is exceedingly
lengthened. Throat, breast, and belly gorgeous emerald-green,
extending to the thighs; vent and under tail-coverts, purpled
black. The plumage of the hind head long and loose, descending in
two lateral tufts upon the nape, which are to some extent erectile.
Female, 4¹⁄₈ inches, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀, flexure 2²⁄₁₀. Irides dark brown;
beak dull reddish-brown, black at edges and tip; feet nearly black.
Front and crown dusky brown, scaled, gradually becoming green on
the hind head, whence the whole upper plumage is rich golden-green.
Tail blue black, the exterior two feathers on each side broadly
tipped with white: uropygials golden green; the feathers graduate
uniformly. Wings as in the male. Under parts white, the feathers
having round tips of metallic green on the sides of the neck, and
being mingled with green ones on the sides of the body. The plumage
on each side of the nape, erectile, as in the male, but somewhat
shorter.
This is the gem of Jamaican Ornithology. Its slender form, velvet
crest, emerald bosom, and lengthened tail-plumes, render it one of the
most elegant even of this most brilliant family. Though peculiar, as
far as I am aware, to Jamaica, it has long been known, though it would
seem from received figures and descriptions very imperfectly. Edwards
long ago gave a figure of it, which is recognisable. Lesson’s figure
and description are alike bad. The attitude is that never assumed by
a Humming-bird; the back of the neck is made green instead of black;
the scaly emerald plumage is diminished to a mere gorget instead of
extending over the whole breast and belly; the beak and feet are both
made yellow, whereas the former should have been crimson, the latter
purple-black. He makes “Les Polythmus” his tenth Race, which he thus
defines: “Beak short, straight: the external tail-feathers terminated
by two long blades or filaments (_brins_).” Here every character is
incorrect. The beak, though not long, is certainly not short; it is
not straight, but perceptibly curved, particularly in the female; the
curvature, it is true, varies in individuals, but I possess several
females whose beaks are more curved than that of Mango; it is not the
external tail-feather that is lengthened, but the second from the
outside; lastly, this feather is not terminated by a filament, or by
any structure varying from the other part; it is simply produced in
length.
Mr. Swainson writes as if he were unacquainted with this species, for
in speaking of the tendency of the lengthened external feathers of the
tail in certain families of birds to turn _outwards_ towards their
tips, he observes, “there is one solitary instance where these long
exterior feathers are turned _inwards_ instead of outwards: this occurs
in a Humming-bird figured by Edwards, as a native of Jamaica, _but we
have never yet_ seen it, nor is a specimen known to exist at this time
in any museum.” (Class. Birds, I. 105.) This is no other than Polytmus;
the long tail-feathers of which do bend inwards so as to cross each
other when the bird is resting. I may add here that these long feathers
have the inner edge prettily waved, not by actual indentation, but by a
puckering of the margin, like a frill.
The Long-tail is a permanent resident in Jamaica, and is not uncommonly
seen at all seasons and in all situations. It loves to frequent the
margins of woods and road-sides, where it sucks the blossoms of the
trees, occasionally descending, however, to the low shrubs. There
is one locality where it is abundant, the summit of that range of
mountains just behind Bluefields, and known as the Bluefields ridge.
Behind the peaks which are visible from the sea, at an elevation of
about half a mile, there runs through the dense woods a narrow path,
just passable for a horse, overrun with beautiful ferns of many
graceful forms, and always damp and cool. No habitation occurs within
several miles and no cultivation, save the isolated provision grounds
of the negroes, which are teeming with enormous Arums: and these are
hidden from view far up in the thick woods.
The refreshing coolness of this road, its unbroken solitude, combined
with the peculiarity and luxuriance of the vegetation, made it one of
my favorite resorts. Not a tree, from the thickness of one’s wrist
up to the giant magnitude of the hoary figs and cotton trees, but
is clothed with fantastic parasites: begonias with waxen flowers,
and ferns with hirsute stems climb up the trunks; enormous bromelias
spring from the greater forks, and fringe the horizontal limbs; various
orchideæ with matted roots and grotesque blossoms droop from every
bough, and long lianes, like the cordage of a ship, depend from the
loftiest branches, or stretch from tree to tree. Elegant tree-ferns,
and towering palms are numerous; here and there the wild plantain or
heliconia waves its long flag-like leaves from amidst the humbler
bushes, and in the most obscure corners over some decaying log, nods
the noble spike of a magnificent limodorum. Nothing is flaunting or
showy; all is solemn and subdued; but all is exquisitely beautiful.
Now and then the ear is startled by the long-drawn measured notes,
most richly sweet, of the Solitaire, itself mysteriously unseen, like
the hymn of praise of an angel. It is so in keeping with the solitude,
and with the scene, that we are unconsciously arrested to admire and
listen. The smaller wood consists largely of the plant called Glass-eye
berry, a Scrophularious shrub, the blossoms of which, though presenting
little beauty in form or hue, are pre-eminently attractive to the
Long-tailed Humming-bird. These bushes are at no part of the year out
of blossom, the scarlet berries appearing at all seasons on the same
stalk as the flowers. And here at any time one may with tolerable
certainty calculate on finding these very lovely birds. But it is in
March, April, and May, that they abound: I suppose I have sometimes
seen not fewer than a hundred come successively to rifle the blossoms
within the space of half as many yards in the course of a forenoon.
They are, however, in no respect gregarious; though three or four may
be at one moment hovering round the blossoms of the same bush, there
is no association; each is governed by his individual preference, and
each attends to his own affairs. It is worthy of remark that males
compose by far the greater portion of the individuals observed at
this elevation. I do not know why it should be so, but we see very
few females there, whereas in the lowlands this sex outnumbers the
other. In March, a large number are found to be clad in the livery
of the adult male, but without long tail-feathers; others have the
characteristic feathers lengthened, but in various degrees. These are,
I have no doubt, males of the preceding season. It is also quite common
to find one of the long feathers much shorter than the other; which I
account for by concluding that the shorter is replacing one that had
been accidentally lost. In their aerial encounters with each other, a
tail-feather is sometimes displaced. One day several of these “young
bloods” being together, a regular tumult ensued, somewhat similar to a
_sparrow-fight_:—such twittering, and fluttering, and dartings hither
and thither! I could not exactly make out the matter, but suspected
that it was mainly an attack, (surely a most ungallant one, if so) made
by these upon two females of the same species, that were sucking at the
same bush. These were certainly in the skirmish, but the evolutions
were too rapid to be certain how the battle went.
The whirring made by the vibrating wings of the male Polytmus is a
shriller sound than that produced by the female, and indicates its
proximity before the eye has detected it. The male almost constantly
utters a monotonous quick chirp, both while resting on a twig, and
while sucking from flower to flower. They do not invariably probe
flowers upon the wing; one may frequently observe them thus engaged,
when alighted and sitting with closed wings, and often they partially
sustain themselves by clinging with the feet to a leaf while sucking,
the wings being expanded, and vibrating.
The Humming-birds in Jamaica do not confine themselves to any
particular season for nidification. In almost every month of the year
I have either found, or have had brought to me, the nests of Polytmus
in occupation. Still as far as my experience goes, they are most
numerous in June; while Mr. Hill considers January as the most normal
period. It is not improbable that two broods are reared in a season.
In the latter part of February, a friend showed me a nest of this
species in a singular situation, but which I afterwards found to be
quite in accordance with its usual habits. It was at Bognie, situated
on the Bluefields mountain, but at some distance from the scene above
described. About a quarter of a mile within the woods, a blind path,
choked up with bushes, descends suddenly beneath an overhanging rock of
limestone, the face of which presents large projections, and hanging
points, encrusted with a rough, tuberculous sort of stalactite. At one
corner of the bottom there is a cavern, in which a tub is fixed to
receive water of great purity, which perpetually drips from the roof,
and which in the dry season is a most valuable resource. Beyond this,
which is very obscure, the eye penetrates to a larger area, deeper
still, which receives light from some other communication with the air.
Round the projections and groins of the front, the roots of the trees
above have entwined, and to a fibre of one of these hanging down, not
thicker than whipcord, was suspended a Humming-bird’s nest, containing
two eggs. It seemed to be composed wholly of moss, was thick, and
attached to the rootlet by its side. One of the eggs was broken. I
did not disturb it, but after about three weeks, visited it again. It
had been apparently handled by some curious child, for both eggs were
broken, and the nest was evidently deserted.
But while I lingered in the romantic place, picking up some of the
landshells which were scattered among the rocks, suddenly I heard
the whirr of a Humming-bird, and, looking up, saw a female Polytmus
hovering opposite the nest, with a mass of silk-cotton in her beak.
Deterred by the sight of me, she presently retired to a twig, a few
paces distant, on which she sat. I immediately sunk down among the
rocks as quietly as possible, and remained perfectly still. In a few
seconds she came again, and after hovering a moment disappeared behind
one of the projections, whence in a few seconds she emerged again and
flew off. I then examined the place, and found to my delight, a new
nest, in all respects like the old one, but unfinished, affixed to
another twig not a yard from it. I again sat down among the stones in
front, where I could see the nest, not concealing myself, but remaining
motionless, waiting for the petite bird’s reappearance. I had not to
wait long: a loud _whirr_, and there she was, suspended in the air
before her nest: she soon espied me, and came within a foot of my
eyes, hovering just in front of my face. I remained still, however,
when I heard the whirring of another just above me, perhaps the mate,
but I durst not look towards him lest the turning of my head should
frighten the female. In a minute or two the other was gone, and she
alighted again on the twig, where she sat some little time preening her
feathers, and apparently clearing her mouth from the cotton-fibres,
for she now and then swiftly projected the tongue an inch and a half
from the beak, continuing the same curve as that of the beak. When she
arose, it was to perform a very interesting action; for she flew to the
face of the rock, which was thickly clothed with soft dry moss, and
hovering on the wing, as if before a flower, began to pluck the moss,
until she had a large bunch of it in her beak; then I saw her fly to
the nest, and _having seated herself in it_, proceed to place the new
material, pressing, and arranging, and interweaving the whole with her
beak, while she fashioned the cup-like form of the interior, by the
pressure of her white breast, moving round and round as she sat. My
presence appeared to be no hindrance to her proceedings, though only
a few feet distant; at length she left again, and I left the place
also. On the 8th of April I visited the cave again, and found the nest
perfected, and containing two eggs, which were not hatched on the 1st
of May, on which day I sent Sam to endeavour to secure both dam and
nest. He found her sitting, and had no difficulty in capturing her,
which, with the nest and its contents, he carefully brought down to me.
I transferred it, having broken one egg by accident, to a cage, and put
in the bird; she was mopish, however, and quite neglected the nest, as
she did also some flowers which I inserted; sitting moodily on a perch.
The next morning she was dead.
On the 7th of May, a lad showed me another nest of the same species,
containing two young newly hatched. It was stuck on a twig of a seaside
grape tree, (_Coccoloba_), about fifteen feet above the ground, almost
above the sea, for the tree grew at the very edge of the shore, and the
branches really did stretch over the sea. The bird was wary, and would
not return to the nest while I staid there, or Sam, whom I stationed
in the tree to catch her; but on our receding a few minutes, we found
her on the nest. Sam watched sometime vainly with the insect-net;
but as I thought, if I could secure her in a cage with her nest, the
claims of her young would probably awaken her attention more than the
mere unhatched eggs had done the former one, we proceeded to the tree
at night with a lantern. The noise and shaking of the tree, however,
had again alarmed her, (at least so we concluded,) for she was not
on the nest when reached. The next morning Sam had occasion to pass
twice by the grape-tree, but at neither time was the bird on the nest.
Still suspecting nothing, we went after breakfast, to set a noose
of horse-hair on the nest, a common artifice of the negro boys, to
capture small birds when sitting. On mounting to set it, however, Sam
discovered that the nest was quite empty, no trace of the unfledged
young being left. It is probable that the bird, annoyed at being
watched, had removed them in her beak, a thing not without precedent.
Sam assured me, that if a Bald-pate Pigeon be sitting on a nest
containing young, and be alarmed by a person climbing the tree, so as
to be driven from the nest, twice in succession, you may look for the
young the next day, in vain.
In June I found a nest of the same species on a shrub or young tree
in the Cotta-wood. It contained one egg; I looked at it, and went a
little way farther. In a few minutes I returned; the bird was sitting,
the head and tail oddly projecting from the nest, as usual. I hoped to
approach without alarming it, but its eye was upon me, and when I was
within three or four yards, it flew. I looked into the nest, but _there
was no egg_: on search, I found it on the ground beneath, much cracked,
but not crushed. How could it have come there? The bush, to the main
stem of which it was attached, was too strong for the rising of the
bird to have jerked it out; beside which, such result was not likely
to happen from an action taking place many times every day. It must, I
think, have been taken out by the bird. I replaced the cracked egg, and
a day or two afterwards, visited it again: the nest was again empty,
and evidently deserted.
On the 12th of November, we took, in Bluefields morass, the nest of a
Polytmus, containing two eggs, one of which had the chick considerably
advanced, the other was freshly laid. The nest was placed on a hanging
twig of a black-mangrove tree, the twig passing perpendicularly through
the side, and out at the bottom. It is now before me. It is a very
compact cup, 1³⁄₄ inch deep without, and 1 inch deep within; the sides
about ¹⁄₄ inch thick, the inner margin a little overarching, so as to
narrow the opening: the total diameter at top, 1¹⁄₂ inch; 1 inch in
the clear. It is mainly composed of silk-cotton very closely pressed,
mixed with the still more glossy cotton of an _asclepias_, particularly
around the edge; the seed remaining attached to some of the filaments.
On the outside the whole structure is quite covered with spiders’
web, crossed and recrossed in every direction, and made to adhere by
some viscous substance, evidently applied after the web was placed,
probably saliva. Little bits of pale-green lichen, and fragments of
thin laminated bark, are stuck here and there on the outside, by means
of the webs having been passed over them. The eggs are long-oval, pure
white, save that when fresh, the contents produce a reddish tinge, from
the thinness of the shell. Their long diameter ⁷⁄₁₂ inch; short ⁴⁄₁₂.
The above may be considered a standard sample of the form, dimensions,
and materials of the nest of this species. Variations, however, often
occur from local causes. Thus, in the one from Bognie cave, only
moss is used, and the base is produced to a lengthened point; one of
exceeding beauty now before me, is composed wholly of pure silk-cotton,
bound profusely with the finest web, undistinguishable except on close
examination; not a fragment of lichen mars the beautiful uniformity
of its appearance. Others are studded all over with the lichens, and
these, too, have a peculiar rustic prettiness. The situations chosen
for nidification, as will have been perceived, are very various.
I have attempted to rear the young from the nest by hand, but without
complete success. A young friend found a nest in June, on a twig of
a wild coffee-tree, (_Tetramerium odoratissimum_,) which contained
a young bird. He took it, and fed it with sugar and water for some
days, but when it was full fledged, and almost ready to leave the
nest, it died and was partially eaten by ants. It was, however, a
male, and formed an important link in the evidence by which I at
length discovered the specific identity of the female. Latham, it is
true, long ago describes it conjecturally as the female of Polytmus;
but Lesson, in his “Ois. Mouches,” has treated the supposition as
groundless. I may observe that to satisfy myself I was in the habit
of dissecting my specimens, and invariably found, with one exception,
the green-breasted to be males, the white-breasted to be females.[24]
But to return. On the 20th of May of the present year (1846), Sam
brought me the nest of a Polytmus, which had been affixed to a twig
of sweet-wood (_Laurus_). It contained one young, unfledged, the
feathers just budding, I began to feed it with sugar dissolved in
water, presented in a quill, which it readily sucked many times
a-day. Occasionally I caught musquitoes, and other small insects, and
putting them into the syrup, gave them to the bird; these it seemed
to like, but particularly ants, which crowded into the sweet fluid
and overspread its surface. The quill would thus take up a dozen at
a time, which were sucked in by the little bird with much relish. It
throve manifestly, and the feathers grew apace, so that on the 29th,
after having been in my possession nine days, it was almost ready to
leave the nest. But on that day it died. Another I reared under similar
circumstances, and in a similar way, until it was actually fledged.
When nearly full grown, it would rear itself up, touching the nest
only with its feet, on tiptoe, as it were, and vibrate its wings as if
hovering in flight, for minutes together. At length it fairly took its
flight out at the window. Both these were females.
[24] The exception is, that a specimen obtained on the 6th of May,
in female livery, displayed on dissection two indubitable testes,
in the ordinary situation.
The young male, when ready to leave the nest, has the throat and breast
metallic-green as above, the belly-feathers blackish, with large tips
of green; the tail black with green reflections, untipped. A male which
I obtained in May, and which I take to be the young of the preceding
winter, has the green on the head, mingled with black, the disks of
the feathers being green with a black border. The emerald green of the
breast is partial in its extent, reaching to the belly only in isolated
feathers, separated by large spaces of brownish-drab; while on the
throat and breast, the feathers have merely large round disks of the
emerald-colour, with narrow edges of brown.
The tongue of this species, (and doubtless others have a similar
conformation,) presents, when recent, the appearance of two tubes
laid side by side, united for half their length, but separate for the
remainder. Their substance is transparent in the same degree as a good
quill, which they much resemble: each tube is formed by a lamina rolled
up, yet not so as to bring the edges into actual contact, for there
is a longitudinal fissure on the outer side, running up considerably
higher than the junction of the tubes; into this fissure the point of
a pin may be inserted and moved up and down the length. Near the tip
the _outer_ edge of each lamina ceases to be convoluted, but is spread
out, and split at the margin into irregular fimbriæ, which point
backward, somewhat like the vane of a feather; these are not barbs,
however, but simply soft and flexible points, such as might be produced
by snipping diagonally the edge of a strip of paper. I conjecture
that the nectar of flowers is pumped up the tubes, and that minute
insects are caught, when in flowers, in these spoon-like tips, their
minute limbs being perhaps entangled in the fimbriæ, when the tongue
is retracted into the beak, and the insects swallowed by the ordinary
process, as doubtless those are which are captured with the beak in
flight. I do not thoroughly understand the mode by which liquids are
taken up by a Humming-bird’s tongue, though I have carefully watched
the process. If syrup be presented to one in a quill, the tongue is
protruded for about half an inch into the liquor, the beak resting
in the pen, as it is held horizontal: there is a slight but rapid
and constant projection and retraction of the tubes, and the liquor
disappears very fast, perhaps by capillary attraction, perhaps by a
sort of pumping, certainly not by licking.
All the Humming-birds have more or less the habit when in flight of
pausing in the air, and throwing the body and tail into rapid and odd
contortions; this seems to be most the case with Mango, but perhaps
is more observable in Polytmus from the effect that such motions have
on the beautiful long feathers of the tail. That the object of these
quick turns is the capture of insects I am sure, having watched one
thus engaged pretty close to me; I drew up and observed it carefully,
and distinctly saw the minute flies in the air, which it pursued and
caught, and heard repeatedly the snapping of the beak. My presence
scarcely disturbed it, if at all.
The neck in these birds is very long; but appears short, because it
forms a sigmoid curve downward, which is concealed by the feathers
of the breast: the trachea is therefore long, and its appearance is
singular, because the dilatation from which the bronchi divide, is near
the middle of the whole length, the bronchi being full half an inch in
length; they run down side by side, however, and are in fact soldered
together for about half of their length: though the tubes are still
distinct, as appears by a transverse section. Our two other species I
have proved to have the same conformation.
When I left England, I had laid myself out for the attempt to bring
these radiant creatures alive to this country: and after a little
acquaintance with the Jamaican species, Polytmus seemed, from its
beauty, its abundance, its size, its docility, and its mountain
habitat, to be the species at once most likely to succeed, and most
worthy of the effort. My expectations were disappointed: yet as the
efforts themselves made me more familiar with their habits, the reader,
I trust, will pardon some prolixity of detail in the narration of these
attempts. Very many were caught by myself and my lads: the narrow path
on Bluefields peak already mentioned, was the locality to which we
resorted on these expeditions. A common gauze butterfly-net, on a ring
of a foot in diameter and a staff of three or four feet, we found the
most effective means of capture. The elaborate traps recommended by
some authors, I fear would suit the natural history of the closet,
better than that of the woods. We often found the curiosity of these
little birds stronger than their fear; on holding up the net near one,
he frequently would not fly away, but come and hover over the mouth,
stretching out his neck to peep in, so that we could capture them
with little difficulty. Often too, one when struck at unsuccessfully,
would return immediately, and suspend itself in the air just above
our heads, or peep into our faces, with unconquerable familiarity.
Yet it was difficult to bring these sweet birds, so easily captured,
home; they were usually dead or dying when we arrived at the house,
though not wounded or struck. And those which did arrive in apparent
health, usually died the next day. At my first attempt in the spring
of 1845, I transferred such as I succeeded in bringing alive, to cages
immediately on their arrival at the house, and though they did not beat
themselves, they soon sunk under the confinement. Suddenly they would
fall to the floor of the cage, and lie motionless with closed eyes;
if taken into the hand, they would perhaps seem to revive for a few
moments; then throw back the pretty head, or toss it to and fro as if
in great suffering, expand the wings, open the eyes, slightly puff up
the feathers of the breast, and die: usually without any convulsive
struggle. This was the fate of my first attempts.
In the autumn, however, they began to be numerous again upon the
mountain, and having, on the 13th of November, captured two young males
sucking the pretty pink flowers of _Urena lobata_, I brought them home
in a covered basket. The tail-feathers of the one were undeveloped,
those of the other half their full length. I did not cage them but
turned them out into the open room in which the daily work of preparing
specimens was carried on, having first secured the doors and windows.
They were lively, but not wild; playful towards each other, and tame
with respect to myself, sitting unrestrained for several seconds at a
time on my finger. I collected a few flowers and placed them in a vase
on a high shelf, and to these they resorted immediately. But I soon
found that they paid attention to none but _Asclepias curassavica,_ and
slightly to a large _Ipomea_. On this I again went out, and gathered
a large bunch of _Asclepias_, and was pleased to observe that on the
moment of my entering the room, one flew to the nosegay, and sucked
while I held it in my hand. The other soon followed, and then both
these lovely creatures were buzzing together within an inch of my
face, probing the flowers so eagerly, as to allow their bodies to be
touched without alarm. These flowers being placed in another glass,
they visited each bouquet in turn, now and then flying after each
other playfully through the room, or alighting on various objects.
Though occasionally they flew against the window, they did not flutter
and beat themselves at it, but seemed well content with their parole.
As they flew, I repeatedly heard them snap the beak, at which times,
they doubtless caught minute flies. After some time, one of them
suddenly sunk down in one corner, and on being taken up seemed dying:
it had perhaps struck itself in flying. It lingered awhile, and died.
The other continued his vivacity; perceiving that he had exhausted
the flowers, I prepared a tube, made of the barrel of a goose-quill,
which I inserted into the cork of a bottle to secure its steadiness
and upright position, and filled with juice of sugar-cane. I then
took a large _Ipomea_, and having cut off the bottom, I slipped the
flower over the tube, so that the quill took the place of the nectary
of the flower. The bird flew to it in a moment, clung to the bottle
rim, and bringing his beak perpendicular, thrust it into the tube. It
was at once evident that the repast was agreeable, for he continued
pumping for several seconds, and on his flying off, I found the quill
emptied. As he had torn off the flower in his eagerness for more, and
even followed the fragments of the corolla, as they lay on the table,
to search them, I refilled the quill and put a blossom of the Marvel
of Peru into it, so that the flower expanded over the top. The little
toper found it again, and after drinking freely, withdrew his beak,
but the blossom was adhering to it as a sheath. This incumbrance he
presently got rid of, and then, (which was most interesting to me,)
he returned immediately, and inserting his beak into the bare quill,
finished the contents. It was amusing to see the odd position of
his head and body as he clung to the bottle, with his beak inserted
perpendicularly into the cork. Several times, in the course of the
evening, he had recourse to his new fountain, which was as often
replenished for him, and at length about sunset betook himself to a
line stretched across the room, for repose. He slept, as they all do,
with the head not behind the wing, but slightly drawn back on the
shoulders, and in figure reminded me of Mr. Gould’s beautiful plate of
_Trogon resplendens_, in miniature. In the morning, I found him active
before sunrise, already having visited his quill of syrup, which he
emptied a second time. After some hours, he flew through a door which I
had incautiously left open, and darting through the window of the next
room, escaped, to my no small chagrin.
Three males, captured on Bluefields peak on the 22nd of April, were
brought home alive. They at once became familiar on being turned into
the room, and one, the boldest, found out immediately a glass of
sugar-syrup, and sipped repeatedly at it. One of them disappeared in
the course of the next day, doubtless by falling into some obscure
corner behind the furniture. The others, however, appeared quite at
home, and one soon became so familiar, even before I had had him a
day, as to fly to my face, and perching on my lip or chin, thrust his
beak into my mouth, and suck up the moisture. He grew so bold, and
so frequent in his visits, as at length to become almost annoying;
and so pertinacious as to thrust his protruded tongue into all parts
of my mouth, searching between the gum and cheek, beneath the tongue,
&c. Occasionally, I gratified him by taking into my mouth a little of
the syrup, and inviting him by a slight sound, which he learned to
understand; and this appeared to please his palate. Bouquets of fresh
flowers they did not appear much to regard; but one or two species of
_Lantana_ seemed more attractive than the rest. I expected that the
honeyed and fragrant bunches of blossom of the _Moringa_, which on
the tree is perpetually visited by them, would tempt my captives, but
after a brief trial, they disregarded them. Perhaps it was because they
could sate their appetite more freely and fully at the syrup glass,
which they frequently visited, but only sipped. They always clung to
the glass with their feet, and very often to the flowers also. Each
selected his own places of perching; there were lines stretched across
the room, for drying bird-skins; and from the first each took a place
on one of the lines, distant from the other, where he then invariably
roosted, and rested. Each selected also one or two other stations for
temporary alighting, but each adhered to his own, without invading his
neighbour’s. So strong was this predilection, that on my driving one
away from his spot, he would flutter round the room, but return and try
to alight there again, and if still prevented, would hover round the
place, as if much distressed. This preference of a particular twig for
alighting is observable in freedom, and will suggest an analogy with
the Flycatchers. I have not observed it in our other species. It gave
us a means of capturing many, in addition to the net; for by observing
a spot of resort, and putting a little birdlime on that twig, we could
be pretty sure of a bird in a few minutes. The boldest was rather
pugnacious, occasionally attacking his gentler and more confiding
companion, who always yielded and fled; when the assailant would perch
and utter a succession of shrill chirps, “_screep, screep, screep_.”
After a day or two, however, the persecuted one plucked up courage,
and actually played the tyrant in his turn, interdicting his fellow
from sipping at the sweetened cup. Twenty times in succession would
the thirsty bird drop down upon the wing to the glass,—which stood at
the edge of a table immediately beneath that part of the line, where
both at length were wont to perch,—but no sooner was he poised in front
and about to insert his tongue, than the other would dart down with
inconceivable swiftness, and wheeling so as to come up beneath him,
would drive him away from his repast. He might fly to any other part of
the room unmolested, but an approach to the cup was the signal for an
instant assault. The ill-natured fellow himself drank long and frequent
draughts. I noticed that no sooner had this individual recovered his
boldness than he recovered his voice also, and both would _screep_
pertinaciously and shrilly, almost without intermission. When they
were accustomed to the room, their vivacity was extreme, manifested in
their upright posture, and quick turns and glances when sitting, which
caused their lovely breasts to flash out from darkness into sudden
lustrous light like rich gems;—and no less by their dartings hither and
thither, their most graceful wheelings and evolutions in the air; so
rapid that the eye was frequently baffled in attempting to follow their
motions. Suddenly we lose the radiant little meteor in one corner, and
as quickly hear the vibration of his invisible wings in another behind
us: or find him hovering in front of our face, without having seen, in
the least, how he came there. It is worthy of observation that Polytmus
in flying upward, keeps the feathers of the tail closed, but in
descending they are expanded to the utmost, at which time the two long
feathers, quivering with the rapidity of their motion, like a streamer
in a gale, form about a right angle. I cannot tell why there should be
this difference, but I believe it is invariable.
From that time to the end of May, I obtained about twenty-five more,
nearly all males, and with one or two exceptions captured on the
Bluefields ridge. Some were taken with the net, others with bird-lime;
but though transferred to a basket or to a cage immediately on capture,
not a few were found dead on arrival at home. This sudden death I could
not at all account for: they did not beat themselves against the sides,
though they frequently clung to them: from the wild look of several
that were alive when arrived, sitting on the bottom of the cage,
looking upwards, I suspect terror, at their capture and novel position,
had no small influence. Many of those which were found alive, were
in a dying state, and of those which were turned out into the room,
several more died in the first twenty-four hours; generally, because,
not observing the lines which the domesticated ones used as perches,
they would fly against the perpendicular walls, where, after fluttering
awhile suspended, they would at length sink, exhausted, perpendicularly
downwards, the wings still vibrating, and alight on the object that
intercepted their downward course. If this was the floor, they would
presently rise on the wing, only again to flutter against the wall as
before; but often it would happen that they would sink behind some of
the many boxes with which the shelves were lumbered; in which case
the space being too narrow for the use of their wings, they soon died
unobserved, and were found dead only upon searching. This was the fate
of many; so that out of the twenty-five, only seven were domesticated.
These, however, became quite at home; and I may here observe that there
was much difference in the tempers of individuals; some being moody
and sulky, others very timid, and others gentle and confiding from the
first. I have noticed this in other birds also; Doves, for instance,
which manifest individuality of character, perhaps as much as men, if
we were competent to appreciate it. My ordinary plan of accustoming
them to the room, and teaching them to feed, was very simple. On
opening the basket in which one or more newly-caught Humming-birds were
brought home, they would fly out, and commonly soar to the ceiling,
rarely seeking the window; there for awhile, or against the walls,
as above mentioned, they would flutter, not beating themselves, but
hanging on rapidly vibrating wings, lightly touching the plaster with
the beak or breast, every second, and thus slightly rebounding. By
keeping a strict watch on them while so occupied, we could observe
when they became exhausted, and sunk rapidly down to alight; commonly,
they would then suffer themselves to be raised, by passing the finger
under the breast, to which they would apply their little feet. Having
thus raised one on my finger, and taken a little sugar into my mouth,
I inserted its beak between my lips. Sometimes it would at once begin
to suck eagerly; but at other times it was needful to invite it thus
many times, before it would notice the sugar: by persevering, however,
they commonly learned. And when one had once fed from the mouth, it was
always ready to suck afterwards, and frequently, as above narrated,
voluntarily sought my lips. Having given one his first lesson, I
gently presented him to the line, and drawing my finger from under
him, he would commonly take to it, but if not, the proceeding had to
be repeated: and even when perched, the repetition of the feeding and
placing on the line was needful to induce the habit. If the bird’s
temper were kindly, it soon began to perch on the line of its own
accord; when I ceased to feed it from my lips, presenting to it,
instead, the glass of syrup. After it had sucked thus a time or two,
it found it as it stood at the edge of a table; and I considered it
domesticated. Its time was now spent in incessant short flights about
the room, alternating with momentary rests on the line; often darting
to another on the wing, when the most rapid and beautiful evolutions
would take place, in which the long tail-feathers whisked about in a
singular manner. I believe these rencontres were all amicable, for
they never appeared to come into actual contact, nor to suffer any
inconvenience from them. After close observation to ascertain the fact,
I was fully convinced that the object of their incessant sallies on
the wing was the capture of minute insects; so minute that they were
generally undistinguishable to the human eye. Yet the action of the
bird shewed that something was pursued and taken, and though from the
extreme rapidity of their motions, I could not often see the capture,
yet several times I did detect the snap of the beak, and once or twice
witnessed the taking of some little fly, just large enough to be
discerned in the air. Moreover, the flights were sometimes very short;
a leap out upon the wing to the distance of a foot or two, and then a
return to the perch, just as the true Fly-catchers do; which indeed the
Humming-birds are, to all intents and purposes, and most accomplished
ones. I judge, that, on a low estimate, each captured on the wing
at least three insects per minute, and that, with few intervals,
incessantly, from dawn to dusk. Abroad I do not think quite so many
would be taken in the air, the more normal way being, I presume, the
securing of the minute creatures that inhabit the tubes of flowers;
yet we perpetually see them hawking even at liberty. My captives would
occasionally fly to the walls, and pick from the spiders’ webs, with
which they were draped. When they rested, they sat in nearly an upright
posture, the head usually thrown a little back, and the crimson beak
pointing at a small angle above the horizon, the feet almost hidden,
the belly being brought into contact with the perch, the tail somewhat
thrown in under the body, and the long feathers crossing each other
near their middle. Their ordinary mode of coming down to drink was
curious. I have said that their little reservoir of syrup was placed
at the edge of a table, about two feet beneath them. Instead of flying
down soberly in a direct line, which would have been far too dull for
the volatile genius of a Humming-bird, they invariably made a dozen
or twenty distinct stages of it, each in a curve descending a little,
and ascending nearly to the same plane, and hovering a second or two
at every angle; and sometimes when they arrived opposite the cup more
quickly than usual, as if they considered it reached too soon, they
would make half a dozen more horizontal traverses before they would
bring their tiny feet to the edge of the glass and insert their sucking
tongue. They were very frequently sipping, though they did not take
much at a time; five birds about emptied a wine-glass per diem. Their
fæcal discharges were altogether fluid, and exactly resembled the
syrup which they imbibed. They were rather late in retiring to roost,
frequently hawking and sporting till dusk; and when settled for the
night, were restless, and easily disturbed. The entrance of a person
with a candle, at any hour, was liable to set one or two upon the wing;
and this was always a matter of regret with me, because of the terror
which they seemed to feel, incapacitating them from again finding the
perching line. On such occasions they would again flutter against the
walls, and sink down, as when first captured, with the same danger of
accident, if not closely watched, and picked up when exhausted. After
having inhabited my specimen-room for some time, (those, first caught
almost four weeks,) I transferred them, five in number, all males, to a
large cage with a wired front, and two transverse perches; I had much
dreaded this change, and therefore did it in the evening, hoping that
the intervening night would calm them. I had in some measure prepared
them for the change by placing the cage (before the front was affixed)
upon the table some days previously, and setting their syrup-cup
first close to the cage, then a little within, then a little farther,
until at length it stood at the remotest corner. And I was pleased to
observe that the birds followed the cup every day, flying in and out
of the cage to sip, though at first very shyly and suspiciously, many
times flying in and suddenly darting out without tasting the fluid.
After I had shut them in, they beat and fluttered a good deal; but by
the next day I was gratified to find that all had taken their places
quietly on the perches, and sipped at the syrup, though rather less
than usual. I had now high hopes of bringing them alive to England,
thinking the most difficult task was over; especially as within a day
or two after, I added to them two more males, one of which presently
learned both to perch and to find the cup, and also a female. The
latter interested me much, for on the next day after her introduction,
I noticed that she had seated herself by a long-tailed male, on a perch
occupied only by them two, and was evidently courting his caresses. She
would hop sideways along the perch by a series of little quick jumps,
till she reached him, when she would gently peck his face, and then
recede, hopping and shivering her wings, and presently approach again
to perform the same actions. Now and then she would fly over him, and
make as if she were about to perch on his back, and practise other
little endearments; to which, however, I am sorry to say, he seemed
most ungallantly indifferent, being, in fact, the dullest of the whole
group. I expected to have them nidificate in the cage, and therefore
affixed a very inviting twig of lime-tree to the cage wall, and threw
in plenty of cotton, and perhaps should have succeeded, but for the
carelessness of my servant. For he having incautiously left open the
cage door, the female flew out and effected her escape.
But all my hopes of success were soon to be quashed; for after they
had been in cage but a week, they began to die, sometimes two in a
day; and in another week, but a solitary individual was left, which
soon followed the others. I vainly endeavoured to replace them, by
sending to the mountain; for where the species was so numerous two
months before, they were now (beginning of June) scarcely to be seen
at all. The cause of the death of my caged captives, I conjecture to
have been the want of insect food; that, notwithstanding their frequent
sipping at the syrup, they were really starved to death. I was led to
this conclusion, by having found, on dissecting those which died, that
they were excessively meagre in flesh, and that the stomach, which
ordinarily is as large as a pea, and distended with insects, was,
in these, shrunken to a minute collapsed membrane, with difficulty
distinguished. If I had an opportunity of trying the experiment
again, with the advantage of this experience, I would proceed rather
differently. I would have a very capacious cage, wired _on every side_,
in the bottom of which a supply of decaying fruit, such as oranges
or pines, should be constantly kept, but covered with wire that the
birds might not defile their plumage. This, as I have proved, would
attract immense numbers of minute flies, which, flitting to and fro
in the cage, would probably afford sufficient sustenance to the birds
in conjunction with the syrup. The birds, however, should be caged as
short a time as possible before sailing, which might be early in May;
and by a steamer, which calling at St. Thomas, Bermuda, and the Azores,
large bunches of fresh flowers, and even herbage, might be obtained at
short intervals on the voyage, with which, of course, a multitude of
insects would be introduced. Thus, I still think, these lovely birds
might be introduced into our conservatories and stoves, where there
would be no difficulty in preserving them. Mr. Yarrell has suggested to
me, that possibly young ones fed from the nest upon syrup alone, might
be able to live without insect food.