The nice young man, the modern youth,
Who drinks, and swears, and rakes,
Does little work, speaks little truth,
But plays at DUCKS and DRAKES.
Old Play.
IF a man wishes to study ornithology, let him go to Iceland. The most
beautiful birds in the world, those having the most brilliant, and
finest, and warmest plumage, are to be found in the Arctic regions. Some
of the game-birds of Iceland, I have spoken of. The greatest favorites
and the most valuable of all the feathered tribes here are the eider
ducks. Their down is the lightest and softest of animal coverings,
probably the worst conductor of heat, and therefore the warmest
clothing, that is known. The eider down has long been one of the most
important of the products of Iceland, and until lately has usually sold
at several dollars a pound. The kings and princes of the north of Europe
do not sleep on the down of the cygnets of the Ganges, but on and under
the down of the eider duck. The increased products, the varied
manufactures, and the widely extended commerce of the world, have
brought into use other materials more conducive to comfort and health
than the eider down; and the consequence has been, the price has greatly
fallen, so that now the poor peasant can sleep on down, and it can be
purchased for less than fifty cents a pound.
The eider duck—_Somateria molissima_—is a large and fine-looking bird.
The male is over two feet in length, and weighs six or seven pounds.
His back, breast, and neck are white, inclining to a pale blue; the
sides white; the lower part of the wings, the tail, and the top of the
head black. On the water, he is as graceful as a swan. The female is
much smaller than the male, and differently colored. The female is pale
yellowish brown, mottled with both white and black. The tips of the
wings are white, the tail a brownish black. But a poor idea is given,
however, of the looks of these birds by an enumeration of their colors.
The down is a sort of brown or mouse color. These singular birds have
both the character of wild and domesticated fowls. In the winter they
are so wild that it is difficult to come near them, but in the breeding
season—the month of June—they are tamer than barn-door fowls. On the
islands all around Iceland, and many parts of the main shore, they
cover the land with their nests. When left to themselves the brood of
the eider duck does not exceed four; but remove the eggs daily, and she
will continue to lay for weeks. The drake is a very domestic husband,
and assists in all the little household arrangements previous to the
advent of the little ducklings. They build not far from the water,
making the nest of sea weeds and fine grass, and lining it with the
exquisite, soft down which the female plucks from her breast. If you
approach the nest—which is always near the water—the drake will give a
hostile look at you, then plunge into the sea with great violence; but
the female stands her ground. If in a gentle humor and used to seeing
company, she will let you stroke her back with your hand, and even
take the eggs and down from under her. Sometimes she will fight and
strike with her sharp beak, and she gives a blow in earnest. On finding
the down gone from the nest, she plucks off more, and when the supply
fails, the drake assists in furnishing it. I have been told, if their
nests are robbed of the down more than twice, they abandon the place,
and will not return there the following season. Half a pound is the
usual quantity taken from a nest, and this seems a great deal, for the
domestic goose at a single picking rarely yields more than a quarter
of a pound of feathers. A greater quantity of down is gathered in wet
seasons than in dry. What immense quantities of these birds come around
Reykjavik, and spend the breeding season, particularly on the islands
of Engey and Vithey in the harbor! Around the houses and frequently
all over the roofs, their nests are so thick that you can scarcely
walk without treading on them. The inhabitants get eggs enough to half
supply them with food. The eggs are the size and about the color of
hen’s eggs, though not quite so white, rather inclining to a yellow.
They are nearly equal in quality to those of barn fowls. After the
young are hatched, their education commences immediately. They graduate
after two lessons. The old duck takes them on her back, swims out into
the ocean, then suddenly dives, leaving the little mariners afloat.
Of course they swim. It gets their feet wet; but they don’t mind that,
as they never wear any stockings. In the winter the eider ducks seldom
go far from Iceland. They visit the outer skerries, and go to the
Faroes, and some to Orkney and Shetland. They breed some in these
islands and the Hebrides, and sometimes on the main shore of Great
Britain. Varieties of the eider duck are found in all the northern
regions, Siberia, Kamtchatka, Behring’s Straits, Labrador, and as far
south as New Brunswick. It seems a wonder, among all the bird fanciers,
that some attempt is not made in England or our Northern States to
domesticate them. Let some Captain Waterton give them a chance; and even
if they fly away after the breeding season, it gives them the wider
liberty, and the owner saves their keeping. The flesh of these birds is
excellent, better than any other sea-fowl. In Iceland their value is so
great, for their eggs and down, that there is a law against shooting
them. For the first offense a man is fined a dollar, and for the next he
forfeits his gun. They are greatly alarmed at guns, and, if often fired
among, they quit the coast. So, with kind treatment they give a good
return, but treat them unkindly and they will not return at all. The
power of flight of this bird, considering his weight, is almost
incredible. Mudie puts it down at ninety miles an hour. One variety, the
“western eider”—_somateria dispar_—is only found a native of the
northern part of the Pacific, on both the Asiatic coast and in the
Russian possessions of North America. One of these birds, in a wild
state, a solitary straggler, in “good condition,” was found near
Yarmouth, on the eastern coast of England. That was the only specimen of
this species ever seen in the British isles. What a journey was that! He
must have flown from eastern Siberia entirely across Asia and Europe!
Were man endowed with such powers, either natural or artificial, would
he not be a traveler? I can only speak for one, but I say this boy would
be a rover if he could go like the eider duck! I wonder if there are any
Humboldts among birds. If this one had not been invited to stay in
England to adorn some museum, he would have had a good budget of
adventures to relate by the time he had completed the circuit of the
globe. And is it unreasonable to suppose that birds sometimes actually
fly round the world?
But there’s one beautiful and interesting bird that has never revealed
himself to the ornithologists of Europe, except on the lonely cliffs of
the Meal Sack Island, far from the main land and the haunts of men. Here
they can be found for about three months in the summer. Not a specimen
of this bird is known to exist in any collection. Some Danish
naturalists have for years offered $200 for a pair, either dead or
alive. The great danger in approaching this almost inaccessible island,
with the strong currents that run by it, and the wild nature of the
bird, have, so far, defied the efforts of yachtsmen, travelers, hunters,
and fishermen. The Icelander scarcely ever does any thing for the sport
or adventure of the thing; and rarely will a large reward tempt him to
go into any scene possessing much novelty or danger, unless his own
direct duty lies in that direction. I have seen a water-color drawing of
this bird, at a gentleman’s house at Reykjavik. He evidently belongs to
the penguin tribe. He is not as large as the penguin, but about two feet
in height, and stands as straight up as a man. His back is dark colored,
nearly black, and the belly white. It is evidently a marine bird, and
one fond of lonely regions and cold climates, and at this time possesses
much interest, simply because we cannot catch him. He is entitled to his
liberty; at least I shall give him my vote to allow him to remain in his
present free and independent state. I have his Latin name written down;
and anyone that is good at deciphering bad writing, and thinks he can
read this language of the Cæsars when written by a Dane, may examine
this singular specimen of chirography. It appears to me, to be as
difficult to hunt out as a sample of the bird itself.
I have now to speak of a far different specimen of the feathered
tribe—the cormorant. He is a vile bird. I say vile, for he’s a glutton;
his flesh is rank and unsavory, and he’s far from being a neat, tidy
bird. The cormorant—_Carbo cormoranus_—is common on the shores of
Europe and America, and in the islands of the sea as far north as the
Arctic circle. They are apparently larger than the goose, but not so
heavy. Color black, except the wings dark brown, and sides of the head
and a spot on the thigh white. Though web-footed, he perches on trees,
and sometimes builds his nest there. The bill of the cormorant is about
five inches in length, the upper mandible much hooked. With this he
takes his prey, the unlucky loiterers of the finny tribe. He catches
them usually across, and, if large, he often rises in the air, throws
up the fish, and as it falls head first he catches him endwise, and
the fish, while struggling with life, finds a grave in the cormorant’s
stomach. He will eat his own weight of fish in one day; and then,
gorged to stupidity, he flies to a lonely cliff, spreads out his wings
to dry, and lays there in a state of half torpor for several hours,
like an anaconda after he has swallowed an ox. In this state, if his
resting-place is accessible, the bird can be captured readily. At one
season of the year—the breeding time—this bird and the _shag_, another
species of cormorant, have a crest on the head, of greenish feathers.
These afterwards disappear.
A far more elegant and interesting bird, is the gannet or Solan
goose—_Sula bassana_. On the wing, the gannet is the most
striking-looking bird I have ever seen. They are three feet in length,
and their wings stretch six feet. They are white, except the outer
half of the wing, which is black, the bill, legs, and feet black, and
head yellow. What crowds of them we saw, both in the air and on the
water, off Cape Skagen, near the southwestern part of Iceland! During
the summer, the Meal-Sack Island swarms with them. The female lays but
one or two eggs, nearly white, but not much larger than the common
duck’s egg, though the bird is as large as the goose. The gannet is
exceedingly fond of rocky islands a little way from the main shore,
like the Bass rock in the Forth, the Ailsa Craig in the Clyde, and on
the Iceland Meal-Sack. By these and similar places is either a strong
current or a strong run of tide, and here are plenty of fish. Herrings,
and very often cod and haddock, are their favorite prey. On the wing
as well as in the water, the gannet is a powerful bird. With terrible
impetuosity, they descend from a great height, and plunging into the
water, seize and carry off their prey. Like all fishing birds, the
gannet has a keen sight, keener probably than the eagle, for he can
discern his prey in the water, while at a great height, and when the
curl of the surface so scatters the light that human vision, aided by
all the contrivances of science, cannot penetrate a single inch. How
singular is nature in all her operations! But for a peculiar structure,
this bird, as swift as he has to plunge into the water, would be
killed, or at least stunned and rendered helpless. The cellular tissue
beneath the skin, on the under part of the bird, is formed into
air-cells, and inflated by a peculiar muscular action; and this gives a
surface of great elasticity, and both breaks the force of the blow, and
prevents the bird going very deep under water. When the gannet comes
up with his prey, he rises by a regular momentum directly out of the
water, and is on the wing the instant he appears above the surface.
In one more chapter, I shall complete my brief notices of some of the
more interesting of the birds common in Iceland.