Genus Diomedea. Linnæus. Syst. Nat., I., p. 214. (1766.)
Diomedea brachyura. Temm. Pl. col., V., p. (liv. 75, about 1828.)
Diomedea nigripes. Aud. Orn. Biog., V., p. 327. (1839.)
Form. Very similar to _Diomedea exulans_, but much smaller; bill rather
long, strong, abruptly hooked at the end; wings long, pointed, first
quill longest; tail short; legs strong; toes long, fully webbed.
Dimensions. Total length (of skin) about 28 inches; wing 20; tail 6
inches.
Colors. Adult. Primaries, greater wing coverts, tips of secondaries and
tertiaries, and upper edge of the wing brownish-black; tail white,
tipped with dark brown. All other parts, including the head and entire
body, white, usually in adult specimens tinged with pale yellow on the
head and neck. Under wing coverts white; bill pale reddish-yellow (in
prepared and dried specimen pale, dull yellow); legs pale flesh-color.
Young. Entirely sooty-brown; lighter on the inferior parts of the body;
bill and feet dark; in more advanced plumage, variously spotted with
white, generally most observable around the base of the bill and on the
rump.
Hab. Western coast of North America. Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada.
Of the smaller species of the Albatrosses, this is the largest and next
in size to the large _D. exulans_, which it much resembles in general
appearance. It may always, however, be readily distinguished from any
other species by the characters given above. Specimens occur in which
the pale yellow tinge of the head and neck is not distinguishable, but
usually it is a strongly marked character.
It was by our friend, that distinguished ornithologist, Gustav Hartlaub,
M. D., Director of the Museum of the city of Bremen, that our attention
was first called to the fact of this bird and the Black-footed Albatross
being identical, and a re-examination suggested. Not for this only are
we indebted to the same gentleman, but for much advice and instruction
most encouraging and valuable, and a constant assurance of good feeling,
uninterrupted for years. Naturalists of all climes should work out their
mission in harmony and fellowship. It is often not so,—would that all
like Hartlaub cultivated and understood, as well as Science, kindness,
friendship, justice.
* * * * * * *
But we are at the close of our volume. Like the traveller at the end of
his day’s journey, or the husbandman when the sun has sunk behind the
hills, we willingly stop for repose, not without thoughts mainly, and
perhaps necessarily, retrospective, but agreeable.
Reader! our barks have glided together for a period on the great stream
which carries us alike to our future destiny. Thou hast been to me as a
companion most pleasant, and an encourager. We have chatted, not always,
perhaps, with sufficient reverence, or possibly sometimes frivolously,
of the magnificence of our pathway,—of the mountain and the forest,—even
of the birds that sing in the branches. By no means without dignity of
subject,—the highest dignity attaches to all created things as the
realized ideas of Omnipotence.
We could wish that some passages in our book were more clearly stated;
but there is little that we would erase. We aspire to no perfection,
much less have we accomplished any. Imperfection is a characteristic of
mankind. Man exists in this world as an intellectual being, in a
rudimental condition only.
Trust not too implicitly in the delights of the wilds, nor of solitude.
They are temporary, and only to be as a teacher,—we must return ever to
social life as the ark of safety, bringing, we may hope, the
olive-branch of peace with knowledge. For all that I have said, or that
any one else has said, our greatest and truest interests are in society.
There only we acquire true cultivation and elevation. Science,
Literature, Art, the great civilizers, there only flourish. Betake
thyself not to the wilderness, or for a period only, and never longer
than forty days,—never!—if there is any help for it.
We part now,—I would that it may be lover-like, oft promising to meet
again, and hoping ever,—parted already, as it were, and distant,
perhaps, by the length and breadth of our native land, or by the wide
waters of the Atlantic,—from my heart I waft to thee a blessing and a
farewell.