about the 5th of May. On my voyage to Labrador, I found its eggs on
the islands in the Gulf of St Lawrence, and especially on the Magdalene
Islands, which I visited on the 11th of that month. On the 18th I saw
them in great abundance in the neighbourhood of American Harbour, on
the coast of Labrador, where thousands of Terns were plunging headlong
after shrimps all round us. In that country, their eggs were deposited
among the short grass, and the places which they occupied were but
slightly scratched; whereas on the Magdalene Islands, where they breed
on sandy ridges, slight hollows were scooped out, as is generally
the case along the eastern coast of the United States. Their sojourn
in Labrador is of short duration; and when we were at Newfoundland,
on the 14th of August, multitudes were already passing southward.
At the same period considerable numbers pass by an inland route from
the Canadas, and all our great lakes, travelling along the Ohio and
Mississippi. While residing at Henderson, and afterwards at Cincinnati,
I had ample opportunities of watching their movements in the month
of September. And yet, you will think it strange, that, during their
vernal migration, I never saw one ascend any of these rivers or the
streams connected with them. Perhaps the inferior temperature of the
waters, compared with those of the ocean, in the early spring months,
may induce them to abandon their route at that season. In autumn, on
the contrary, when these rivers are heated and reduced in size, the
Terns may find in them an abundant supply of the fry of various fishes.
It would thus appear, being corroborated by other observations which I
have made relative to migration, that species whose range is extensive,
are determined in their movements by a genial temperature and an
abundant supply of food.
With an easy and buoyant flight, the Tern visits the whole of our
indented coasts, with the intention of procuring food, or of rearing
its young, amidst all the comforts and enjoyments which kind Nature has
provided for it. Full of agreeable sensations, the mated pair glide
along side by side, as gaily as ever glided bridegroom and bride.
The air is warm, the sky of the purest azure, and in every nook the
glittering fry tempts them to satiate their appetite. Here, dancing in
the sunshine, with noisy mirth, the vast congregation spreads over the
sandy shores, where, from immemorial time, the species has taken up
its temporary abode. They all alight, and with minced steps, and tails
carefully raised so as not to be injured by the sand, the different
pairs move about, renew their caresses, and scoop out a little cavity
in the soil. If you come again in a few days, you will find the place
covered with eggs. There they lie, three in each hollow, beautifully
spotted and pointed; and as they receive heat enough from the sun,
the birds have left them until evening. But not absent are they from
the cherished spot, for they have seen you, and now they all fly up
screaming. Although unable to drive you away, they seem most anxiously
to urge your departure by every entreaty they can devise; just as you
would do, were your family endangered by some creature as much stronger
than yourself as you are superior to them. Humanity fills your heart,
you feel for them as a parent feels, and you willingly abandon the
place. The eggs are soon hatched; the young in due time follow their
parents, who, not considering their pleasant labour ended when they are
able to fly, feed them on wing in the manner of swallows, until they
are quite capable of procuring their subsistence themselves. So soon as
this is the case, the young birds fly off in bands, to seek on distant
shores, and in sunny climes, the plentiful food which the ocean yields.
The nest of the Common Tern is, as I have said, a mere hollow made in
the loose sand of some island or mainland beach, scantily tufted with
wiry grass, or strewed with sea-weeds. Their eggs never exceed three
in number; their average length is 1 inch 5-1/2 eighths, their breadth
1-1/4 inch. They vary greatly in their markings, as is the case with
those of all the smaller species of this family; but their ground
colour is generally pale yellowish-green, blotched and spotted with
brownish-black and purplish-grey or neutral tint.
The young, which are fed with small fishes, shrimps, and insects,
separate from the old birds when fully fledged, and do not again
associate with them until the following spring, when both are found
breeding in the same places. It seems quite curious to see these young
birds in winter, during boisterous weather, throwing themselves into
the remotest parts of estuaries, and even visiting salt-water ponds at
some distance from the sea, as I have often seen them do at Charleston,
in South Carolina, when accompanied by my friend the Rev. Dr BACHMAN.
Their plumage is then so very different from that of the old birds,
that one might readily believe them to be of another species, did he
not observe that their mode of flying and their notes are the same.
Not less strange is it, that on such occasions none of the old birds
are to be seen in the place, they having remained, braving the fury of
the tempest, on the outer harbours. In the beginning of winter, young
birds also sometimes ascend the Mississippi as far as Natchez; and in
the same manner betake themselves to all the large lakes bordering the
Gulf of Mexico. There, as well as elsewhere, you see them plunge into
the water, and instantaneously secure their prey, rise as quickly, and
dash into another spot hard by, whenever food happens to be abundant.
I have many times seen the Common Tern suddenly fly up and come close
over a man or a dog, without the least apparent provocation, indeed
when far distant from its nest, and then pass and repass repeatedly
within a few yards, emitting a plaintive cry, as if its eggs or young
were in the immediate vicinity. At other times, when the birds were
yet distant from their young, and carrying fish in their bills, they
would, on seeing a man, round to, drop their food, and perform the same
evolutions. I, however, know nothing more remarkable of this species of
Tern, than that it should breed, as I know from personal observation to
be the case, along the whole of our Atlantic coast, in suitable places,
from Texas to Labrador.
When travelling in stormy weather, they skim over the surface of the
water, moving rapidly and close together; whereas in fine weather,
they rise high, and proceed in a straggling manner. Now and then I have
seen them alight among Tringas of different species, as well as among
Razor-billed Shearwaters, on outward sand beaches.
STERNA HIRUNDO, _Linn._ Syst. Nat., vol. i. p. 227.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith., vol. ii. p. 807.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis
of Birds of the United States, 354.—_Richards. and Swains._
Fauna Bor. Amer. vol. ii. p. 412.
GREAT TERN, STERNA HIRUNDO, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith., vol. viii.
p. 76, pl. 60, fig. 1.
GREAT or COMMON TERN, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 271.
Adult Male. Plate CCCIX.
Bill about the same length as the head, rather slender, compressed,
nearly straight, tapering to a narrow point. Upper mandible with the
dorsal line slightly arched, the ridge rather broad and convex at the
base, narrow towards the end, the sides sloping, convex towards the
end, the edges sharp and inflected, the tip very slender. Nasal groove
rather long, and with a faint groove and ridge extending obliquely to
the edge of the mandible; nostrils sub-basal, linear, direct, pervious.
Lower mandible with the angle very narrow, extending beyond the middle,
the dorsal line straight, the sides ascending and convex, the edges
sharp and inflected, the tip very acute.
Head of moderate size, oblong; neck of moderate length; body very
slender. Feet very small; tibia bare for a considerable space; tarsus
very short, slender, compressed, covered anteriorly with twenty-two
small scutella, laterally and behind with reticular scales; toes very
small, slender, the first extremely small, the third longest, the
fourth considerably shorter, the second shorter than the fourth in the
same proportion; the anterior toes connected by reticulated webs, which
are deeply concave at their margin. Claws arched, compressed, that of
the hind toe smallest, of the middle by much the largest, and having
the inner edge thin and dilated.
Plumage soft, close, blended, very short on the fore part of the
head; the feathers, in general, broad and rounded; wings very long,
narrow, and pointed; primary quills tapering to a rounded point,
slightly curved inwards, the first longest, the rest rapidly graduated;
secondary quills short, broad incurved, obliquely 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 bright coral-red, black towards the end, the tip light yellow;
inside of mouth reddish-orange; eye hazel. Feet coral-red, lighter
than the bill; claws brownish-black. Upper part of the head, and the
hind neck half-way down, deep black, the anterior part tinged with
brown, the posterior with blue. The sides of the head, the fore neck,
and all the lower parts, white, with a slight tinge of greyish-blue on
the breast. Back, scapulars, and wings, light greyish-blue, the edges
of the wings, the rump, and upper tail-coverts, white, slightly tinged
with grey. First primary, with the outer web deep black, the shaft
white, on the inner web a greyish-black band running along the shaft,
narrow at the base, and widening so as to occupy the whole breadth of
the web for an inch at the end, where it is hoary. The next five have
the outer web, and a varying portion of the inner, in nearly their
whole length hoary, but at the same time with a dusky shade, which
becomes more apparent at the ends; the rest of the quills are like
the back, but margined and tipped with white. Tail-feathers with the
inner webs white, the outer webs of the colour of the back, paler on
the middle feathers, gradually deepening outwards, and on the outer
feathers dark or blackish-grey.
Length to end of tail 16 inches, to the fork of the tail 11, to end
of wings 15-3/8, to end of claws 11-1/4; extent of wings 31-1/2; wing
from flexure 11-5/12; tail to end of lateral feathers 7-1/12, to fork
3-1/12; bare part of tibia (6-1/2)/12; tarsus (10-1/2)/12; hind toe and
claw (3-1/2)/12, middle toe and claw 1-1/12. Weight 5 oz.
The female is similar to the male, but rather smaller. In some
instances I have seen a small portion of the forehead white.
Length to end of tail 15 inches, to the fork 11-1/2, to end of wings
15-1/4, to end of claws 11; extent of wings 30-1/4; wing from flexure
10-1/2. Weight 5 oz.
The young in their first plumage, have the bill dull greenish-black,
with the tip yellowish; the feet greenish-yellow.
In winter, the bill is black, with the base pale orange, and the tip
yellowish; the feet orange-yellow. The colours are as in the adult, the
forehead white, the rest of the head dusky, the upper parts having the
feathers slightly margined with lighter.
Length to end of tail 12-3/4, to the fork 11; to end of wings 14, to
end of claws 10-1/2; extent of wings 29-1/4; wing from flexure 8-1/4.
American and British specimens present no essential differences
when compared in considerable numbers. The outer web of the lateral
tail-feather is blackish-grey, and the inner webs of the tail-feathers
are white in all the specimens collected for comparison. The tarsus
in American specimens varies in length from 9 to 10-1/2 twelfths, and
the claw of the middle toe from 2-1/2 to 4-1/2 twelfths; but similar
differences are observed in the British birds.
The tongue is 1-4/12 inch long, sagittate and papillate at the base,
very slender, tapering, the point slit, the upper surface a little
concave, the lower horny towards the end. Aperture of posterior nares
linear, 9 twelfths long. Palate with a middle and two lateral ridges.
Œsophagus 6 inches long, extremely wide, its average diameter on
the neck 7 twelfths, within the thorax 11 twelfths. The stomach is
muscular, 1 inch long, the lateral muscles not distinguishable, the
fasciculi of fibres being disposed as in the rapacious birds; the
central tendinous spaces 3 twelfths in diameter; the cuticular lining
strong, with broad longitudinal rugæ. The contents of the stomach,
fishes. The proventriculus 1 inch long. Intestine 1 foot 7 inches long,
of moderate diameter, convoluted, varying from 2-3/4 twelfths to 2-1/2
twelfths. Rectum 1 inch long. Cœca 5 twelfths long, with a diameter of
3/4 of a twelfth.
The trachea is 3-1/4 inches long, 2-1/2 twelfths in breadth above,
1-1/2 twelfth below; its rings 103, feeble and unossified; the lateral
muscles extremely slender; there are sterno-tracheal muscles, but none
besides. Bronchial half-rings about 18.
SPOTTED SANDPIPER.
_TOTANUS MACULARIUS_, TEMM.
PLATE CCCX. MALE AND FEMALE.
In the course of my last journey in search of information respecting
the birds which at one season or other are found within the limits of
the United States, I observed so vast a number of them in Texas, that I
almost concluded that more than two-thirds of our species occur there.
Among them I observed the beautiful bird now before you.
The Spotted Sandpiper has a wonderfully extensive range, for I have met
with it not only in most parts of the United States, but also on the
shores of Labrador, where, on the 17th June 1833, I found it breeding.
On the 29th of July, the young were fully fledged, and scampering
over the rocks about us, amid the putrid and drying cod-fish. In that
country it breeds later by three months than in Texas; for on the
head waters of Buffalo Bayou, about sixty miles from the margin of
the Mexican Gulf, I saw broods already well grown on the 5th of May
1837. On the same day of the same month in 1832, a similar occurrence
happened on an island near Indian Key, on the south-east coast of
Florida. In Newfoundland, on the other hand, the young were just fully
fledged on the 11th of August 1833. It appears strange that none were
observed by Dr RICHARDSON on the shores of Hudson’s Bay, or in the
interior of that country. They are quite abundant along the margins
of the Mississippi, the Ohio, and their tributaries, where they remain
until driven off by the cold, and return about the beginning of April,
at which period the Purple Martin also makes its appearance. In our
Middle Districts, they arrive a fortnight later. On the Island of
Jestico, in the Gulf of St Lawrence, about twenty pairs had nests and
eggs on the 11th of June; and the air was filled with the pleasing
sound of their voices while we remained there. The nests were placed
among the tall slender grass that covered the southern part of the
island. They were more bulky and more neatly constructed than any
that I have examined southward of the Gulf of St Lawrence; and yet
they were not to be compared with those found in Labrador, where, in
every instance they were concealed under ledges of rocks extending for
several feet over them, so that I probably should not have observed
them, had not the birds flown off as I was passing. These nests were
made of dry moss, raised to the height of from six to nine inches, and
well finished within with slender grasses and feathers of the Eider
Duck. As usual however, the eggs were always four, when the bird was
sitting. They measure an inch and a quarter in length, by an inch at
their thickest part, so that they have a shortish and bulky appearance,
though they run almost to a point. They are smooth, and handsomely
marked with blotches of deep brown and others of a lighter tint, on a
greyish-yellow ground, the spots being larger and closer towards the
rounded end. Both sexes incubate, and remain with their brood until the
time of their departure.
My learned friend THOMAS NUTTALL has described the manners of this
species as observed in the neighbourhood of Boston, with so much
truth and accuracy, that I cannot do better than present you with
his account of it, the more especially, that in so doing, I have an
opportunity of expressing the high opinion I entertain of his talents
and varied accomplishments. “The Peet Weet is one of the most familiar
and common of all the New England marsh birds, arriving along our
river shores, and low meadows, about the beginning of May, from their
mild or tropical winter quarters in Mexico. As soon as it arrives on
the coast, small roving flocks are seen, at various times of the day,
coursing rapidly along the borders of our tide-water streams, flying
swiftly and rather low, in circular sweeps along the meanders of the
rock or river, and occasionally crossing from side to side, in rather
a sportive and cheerful mien, than as the needy foragers they appear
at the close of the autumn. While flying out in these wide circuits,
agitated by superior feelings to those of hunger and necessity, we hear
the shores re-echo the shrill and rapid whistle of ’weet, ’weet, ’weet,
’weet, and usually closing the note with something like a warble, as
they approach their companions on the strand. The cry then varies to
’peet, ’weet, ’weet, ’weet, beginning high and gradually declining
into a somewhat plaintive tone. As the season advances, our little
lively marine wanderers often trace the streams some distance into the
interior, resting usually in fresh meadows among the grass, sometimes
even near the house, and I have seen their eggs laid in a strawberry
bed; and the young and old, pleased with their allowed protection,
familiarly fed, and probed the margin of the adjoining duck-pond, for
their usual fare of worms and insects. They have the very frequent
habit of balancing or wagging the tail, in which even the young join
as soon as they are fledged. From the middle to the close of May, the
pairs, seceding from their companions, seek out a place for their nest,
which is always in a dry open field of grass or grain, sometimes in
the seclusion and shade of a field of maize, but most commonly in a dry
pasture, contiguous to the sea shore; and in some of the solitary and
small sea islands, several pairs sometimes nestle near to each other,
in the immediate vicinity of the noisy nurseries of the quailing Terns.
On being flushed from her eggs, the female goes off without uttering
any complaint; but when surprised with her young, she practises all
the arts of dissimulation common to many other birds, fluttering in
the path, as if badly wounded, and generally proceeds in this way so
far as to deceive a dog, and cause it to overlook the brood, for whose
protection these instinctive arts are practised; nor are the young
without their artful instinct, for on hearing the reiterated cries of
their parents, they scatter about, and squatting still in the withered
grass, almost exactly their colour, it is with careful search very
difficult to discover them, so that in nine times out of ten, they
would be overlooked, and only be endangered by the tread, which they
would endure sooner than betray their cautious retreat.
“At a later period the shores and marshes resound with the quick,
clear, and oft-repeated note of peet weet, peet weet, followed up by
a plaintive call on the young, of peet, peet, peet? peet? If this is
not answered by the scattered brood, a reiterated ’weet, ’weet, ’weet,
’wait, ’wait, is heard, the voice dropping on the final syllables.
The whole marsh and the shores at times echo to this loud, lively, and
solicitous call of the affectionate parents for their brood. The cry,
of course, is most frequent toward evening, when the little family,
separated by the necessity of scattering themselves over the ground in
quest of food, are again desirous of reassembling to roost. The young,
as soon as hatched, run about the grass, and utter from the first
a weak plaintive peep, at length more frequent and audible; and an
imitation of the whistle of peet weet, is almost sure to meet with an
answer from the sympathizing broods, which now throng our marshes. When
the note appears to be answered, the parents hurry, and repeat their
call with great quickness. Young and old, previous to their departure,
frequent the sea shores, like most of the species, but never associate
with other kinds, nor become gregarious, living always in families till
the time of their departure, which usually occurs about the middle of
October.”
My esteemed friend THOMAS MACCULLOCH of Pictou, Nova Scotia, having
transmitted to me a curious account of the attachment of one of
these birds to her eggs, I here insert it with pleasure. “Being on an
excursion to the Hardwood Heights, which rise to the west of Pictou,
my attention was attracted by the warble of a little bird, which
appeared to me entirely new, and which proceeded from a small thicket
a short way off. Whilst crossing an intervening meadow, I accidentally
raised a Spotted Sandpiper from its nest, and having marked the spot I
hastened forwards; but the shyness of the object of my pursuit rendered
all my efforts unavailing, and returning to the nest which I had just
left, I expected to find it still unoccupied; but the Sandpiper had
again resumed her place, and left it with great reluctance, on my near
approach. The nest contained four eggs, which I determined to remove on
my return at night, and for the purpose of preventing the bird sitting
again upon them, I placed a number of stones in a slanting position
over the nest, and so close that it was impossible for the bird to get
into it. On my return in the evening, however, I observed the little
creature rise from beside the stones apparently in greater trepidation
than ever, and more anxious to draw me away by the exhibition of all
those little arts which they practise for this purpose. On examining
the spot I was very much surprised to find that the poor thing had not
only hollowed out a new nest, but had actually succeeded in abstracting
two eggs from the other nest. How the bird had contrived to remove
the eggs I cannot conceive, as the stones remained unaltered. This
attachment to its nest and eggs appeared to me more singular as the
bird had just commenced incubation, the eggs exhibiting very little
appearance of the young.”
In addition to the observations of THOMAS NUTTALL, I must inform you
that this species is often observed to alight on the branches of trees
hanging over water-courses, on which they walk deliberately, and with
their usual delicate elegance of gait, and balancing of both body
and tail. They are also wont to alight more frequently on the rails
and stakes of fences, or on walls. I have seen them on the tops of
hay-stacks, where they seemed to be engaged in pursuing insects. On
several occasions I have found their nests in orchards of both peach
and apple trees, at a considerable distance from water, the use of
which, indeed, they do not appear to require much during the progress
of incubation, or the first weeks after hatching their young, when I
have seen them rambling in search of food over large open fields of
sweet potatoes and other vegetables, in the neighbourhood of some of
our cities.
While these birds are flying, in the love season, the points of their
wings are considerably bent down, and they propel themselves by strong
and decided beats, supporting themselves afterwards by slow tremulous
motions of their pinions, to the distance of some yards, when they
repeat the strong beats, and thus continue until they realight,
uttering all the while their well-known notes, so accurately described
by my friend NUTTALL.