Next day we continued our journey along the Penobscot, the country

changing its aspect at every mile, and when we first descried Old

Town, that village of saw-mills looked like an island covered with

manufactories. The people here are noted for their industry and

perseverance, and any one possessing a mill, and attending to his saws and

the floating of the timber into his dams, is sure to obtain a competency

in a few years. Speculations in land covered with pine, lying to the

north of this place, are carried on to a great extent, and to discover

a good tract of such ground many a miller of Old Town undertakes long

journeys. Reader, with your leave, I will here introduce one of them.

Good luck brought us into acquaintance with Mr GILLIES, whom we happened

to meet in the course of our travels, as he was returning from an

exploring tour. About the first of August he formed a party of sixteen

persons, each carrying a knapsack and an axe. Their provisions consisted

of 250 pounds of pilot bread, 150 of salted pork, 4 of tea, 2 large

loaves of sugar, and some salt. They embarked in light canoes, twelve

miles north of Bangor, and followed the Penobscot as far as Wassataquoik

River, a branch leading to the north-west, until they reached the Seboeis

Lakes, the principal of which lie in a line, with short portages between

them. Still proceeding north-west, they navigated these lakes, and then

turning west, carried their canoes to the great lake "Baamchenunsgamook;"

thence north to Wallaghasquegantook Lake, then along a small stream to

the upper Umsaskiss Pond, when they reached the Albagash River, which

leads into the St John's, in about latitude 47° 3´. Many portions of that

country had not been visited before even by the Indians, who assured Mr

GILLIES of this fact. They continued their travels down the St John's

to the Grand Falls, where they met with a portage of half a mile, and

having reached Meduxmekeag Creek, a little above Woodstock, the party

walked to Houlton, having travelled twelve hundred miles, and described

almost an oval over the country by the time they returned to Old Town,

on the Penobscot.

While anxiously looking for "lumber lands," they ascended the eminences

around, then climbed the tallest trees, and by means of a good telescope,

inspected the pine woods in the distance. And such excellent judges are

these persons of the value of the timber which they thus observe, when

it is situated at a convenient distance from water, that they never

afterwards forget the different spots at all worthy of their attention.

They had observed only a few birds and quadrupeds, the latter principally

porcupines. The borders of the lakes and rivers afforded them fruits of

various sorts, and abundance of cranberries, while the uplands yielded

plenty of wild white onions, and a species of black plum. Some of the

party continued their journey in canoes down the St John's, ascended Eel

River, and the lake of the same name, to Matanemheag River, due southwest

of the St John's, and after a few portages fell into the Penobscot.

I had made arrangements to accompany Mr GILLIES on a journey of this

kind, when I judged it would be more interesting as well as useful to

me to visit the distant country of Labrador.

The road which we followed from Old Town to Bangor was literally covered

with Penobscot Indians returning from market. On reaching the latter

beautiful town, we found very comfortable lodging in an excellent hotel;

and next day we proceeded by the mail to Boston.

THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

_FALCO CHRYSAËTOS_, LINN.

PLATE CLXXXI.

In the early part of February 1833, while at Boston in Massachusetts,

I chanced to call on Mr GREENWOOD, the proprietor of the Museum of that

city, who informed me that he had purchased a very fine Eagle, the name

of which he was desirous of knowing. The bird was produced, and as I

directed my eye towards its own deep, bold and stern one, I recognised

it at once as belonging to the species whose habits I have here to

describe, and I determined to obtain possession of it. Mr GREENWOOD, who

is a very kind as well as talented person, being asked if he would part

with the noble bird, readily answered in the affirmative, and left to

me to determine its value, which I accordingly did, and carried off my

purchase. His report of the manner in which the royal prisoner had been

secured, was as follows:—"The man from which I bought it had it in the

same cage it is now in, on the top of his market-waggon, and when I asked

its price, said that the Eagle had been caught in a spring-trap set for

foxes on the white mountains of New Hampshire. One morning the trap was

missing, but on searching for it, it was at last discovered more than

a mile from its original place, and held the bird by one of its toes

only. The eagle flew about through the woods for several hundred yards,

but was at last with difficulty secured. This took place a few days ago."

The Eagle was immediately conveyed to my place of residence, covered by

a blanket, to save him, in his adversity, from the gaze of the people.

I placed the cage so as to afford me a good view of the captive, and I

must acknowledge that as I watched his eye, and observed his looks of

proud disdain, I felt towards him not so generously as I ought to have

done. At times I was half inclined to restore to him his freedom, that

he might return to his native mountains; nay, I several times thought

how pleasing it would be to see him spread out his broad wings and sail

away towards the rocks of his wild haunts; but then, reader, some one

seemed to whisper that I ought to take the portrait of the magnificent

bird, and I abandoned the more generous design of setting him at liberty,

for the express purpose of shewing you his semblance.

I occupied myself a whole day in watching his movements; on the next I

came to a determination as to the position in which I might best represent

him; and on the third thought of how I could take away his life with

the least pain to him. I consulted several persons on the subject, and

among others my most worthy and generous friend, GEORGE PARKMAN, Esq.

M.D., who kindly visited my family every day. He spoke of suffocating

him by means of burning charcoal, of killing him by electricity, &c. and

we both concluded that the first method would probably be the easiest

for ourselves, and the least painful to him. Accordingly the bird was

removed in his prison into a very small room, and closely covered with

blankets, into which was introduced a pan of lighted charcoal, when the

windows and door were fastened, and the blankets tucked in beneath the

cage. I waited, expecting every moment to hear him fall down from his

perch; but after listening for _hours_, I opened the door, raised the

blankets, and peeped under them amidst a mass of suffocating fumes. There

stood the Eagle on his perch, with his bright unflinching eye turned

towards me, and as lively and vigorous as ever! Instantly reclosing

every aperture, I resumed my station at the door, and towards midnight,

not having heard the least noise, I again took a peep at my victim. He

was still uninjured, although the air of the closet was insupportable

to my son and myself, and that of the adjoining apartment began to feel

unpleasant. I persevered, however, for ten hours in all, when finding

that the charcoal fumes would not produce the desired effect, I retired

to rest wearied and disappointed.

Early next morning I tried the charcoal anew, adding to it a quantity of

sulphur, but we were nearly driven from our home in a few hours by the

stifling vapours, while the noble bird continued to stand erect; and to

look defiance at us whenever we approached his post of martyrdom. His

fierce demeanour precluded all internal application, and at last I was

compelled to resort to a method always used as the last expedient, and

a most effectual one. I thrust a long pointed piece of steel through his

heart, when my proud prisoner instantly fell dead, without even ruffling

a feather.

I sat up nearly the whole of another night to outline him, and worked

so constantly at the drawing, that it nearly cost me my life. I was

suddenly seized with a spasmodic affection, that much alarmed my family,

and completely prostrated me for some days; but, thanks to my heavenly

Preserver, and the immediate and unremitting attention of my most worthy

friends Drs PARKMAN, SHATTUCK, and WARREN, I was soon restored to health,

and enabled to pursue my labours. The drawing of this Eagle took me

fourteen days, and I had never before laboured so incessantly excepting

at that of the Wild Turkey.

The Golden Eagle, although a permanent resident in the United States,

is of rare occurrence there, it being seldom that one sees more than a

pair or two in the course of a year, unless he be an inhabitant of the

mountains, or of the large plains spread out at their base. I have seen

a few of them on the wing along the shores of the Hudson, others on the

upper parts of the Mississippi, some among the Alleghanies, and a pair

in the State of Maine. At Labrador we saw an individual sailing, at the

height of a few yards, over the moss-covered surface of the dreary rocks.

Although possessed of a powerful flight, it has not the speed of many

Hawks, nor even of the White-headed Eagle. It cannot, like the latter,

pursue and seize on the wing the prey it longs for, but is obliged to

glide down through the air for a certain height to insure the success

of its enterprise. The keenness of its eye, however, makes up for this

defect, and enables it to spy, at a great distance, the objects on which

it preys; and it seldom misses its aim, as it falls with the swiftness of

a meteor towards the spot on which they are concealed. When at a great

height in the air, its gyrations are uncommonly beautiful, being slow

and of wide circuit, and becoming the majesty of the king of birds. It

often continues them for hours at a time, with apparently the greatest

ease.

The nest of this noble species is always placed on an inaccessible shelf

of some rugged precipice,—never, that I am aware of, on a tree. It is of

great size, flat, and consists merely of a few dead sticks and brambles,

so bare at times that the eggs might be said to be deposited on the

naked rock. They are generally two, sometimes three, having a length of

3½ inches, and a diameter at the broadest part of 2½. The shell is thick

and smooth, dull white, brushed over, as it were, with undefined patches

of brown, which are most numerous at the larger end. The period at which

they are deposited, is the end of February or the beginning of March. I

have never seen the young when newly hatched, but know that they do not

leave the nest until nearly able to provide for themselves, when their

parents drive them off from their home, and finally from their hunting

grounds. A pair of these birds bred on the rocky shores of the Hudson

for eight successive years, and in the same chasm of the rock.

Their notes are harsh and sharp, resembling at times the barking of a

dog, especially about the breeding season, when they become extremely

noisy and turbulent, flying more swiftly than at other times, alighting

more frequently, and evincing a fretfulness which is not so observable

after their eggs are laid.

They are capable of remaining without food for several days at a time,

and eat voraciously whenever they find an opportunity. Young fawns,

racoons, hares, wild turkeys, and other large birds, are their usual

food, and they devour putrid flesh only when hard pressed by hunger,

none alighting on carrion at any other time. They are nice in cleaning

the skin or plucking the feathers of their prey, although they swallow

their food in large pieces, often mixed with hair and bones, which they

afterwards disgorge. They are muscular, strong, and hardy, capable of

bearing extreme cold without injury, and of pursuing their avocations in

the most tempestuous weather. A full grown female weighs about twelve

pounds, the male about two pounds and a half less. This species seldom

removes far from its place of residence, and the attachment of two

individuals of different sexes appears to continue for years.

They do not obtain the full beauty of their plumage until the fourth

year, the Ring-tailed Eagle of authors being the young in the dress

of the second and third years. Our north-western Indians are fond of

ornamenting their persons and implements of war with the tail-feathers

of this Eagle, which they kill or raise expressly for that purpose.

I conclude my account of this species with an anecdote relating to it

given in one of Dr RUSH'S lectures upon the effects of fear on man. During

the revolutionary war, a company of soldiers were stationed near the

highlands of the Hudson River. A Golden Eagle had placed her nest in a

cleft of the rocks half way between the summit and the river. A soldier

was let down by his companions suspended by a rope fastened around his

body. When he reached the nest, he suddenly found himself attacked by

the Eagle; in self defence he drew the only weapon about him, his knife,

and made repeated passes at the bird, when accidentally he cut the rope

almost off. It began unravelling; those above hastily drew him up, and

relieved him from his perilous situation at the moment when he expected

to be precipitated to the bottom. The Doctor stated that so powerful

was the effect of the fear the soldier had experienced whilst in danger,

that ere three days had elapsed his hair became quite grey.

FALCO CHRYSAËTOS and F. FULVUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 125.

—_Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 10.

FALCO FULVUS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United

States, p. 25.

AQUILA CHRYSAËTOS, _Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor.-Amer.

vol. ii. p. 12.

RING-TAILED EAGLE, F. FULVUS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. vii.

p. 13. pl. 55. fig. 1. Young.

ROYAL or GOLDEN EAGLE, _Nuttall_, Manual, part. i. p. 62.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXXI.

Bill shortish, deep, compressed, strong, cerate at the base; upper

mandible with the dorsal outline nearly straight and sloping at the base,

from the margin of the cere to the end curved so as to form the fourth

of a circle, the sides sloping and slightly convex, the edges sharp,

nearly straight, with a slight convexity and a shallow sinus close to

the strong subtrigonal tip, which is concave or channelled beneath; lower

mandible convex on its dorsal outline, the sides convex, the edges sharp

and inflected, the tip obliquely truncate. Nostrils in the fore part of

the cere, lateral, oblique, oval, open, with a process at their anterior

margin. Head of moderate size, neck short, body full. Legs of ordinary

length; the tibia proportionally long; the tarsus short, rounded, robust,

feathered to the toes, which are rather short, very strong, united at

the base by a short web, marginate, covered above with series of angular

scales, and towards the end with large broad scutella, of which there

are four on the hind toe, three on the next, four on the middle toe, and

three on the outer; the first and second toes are about equal, the hind

one stronger, the middle toe longest, the outer shortest and smallest;

claws long, curved, rounded, flat beneath, middle claw with a deep groove

and an edge on the inner side.

Plumage compact, imbricated, glossy; feathers of the head and neck narrow

and pointed, of the back and breast broader, but still pointed. Space

between the bill and eye covered with small bristle-pointed feathers

disposed in a radiating manner; both eyelids ciliated; a bare projecting

space over the eye. Wings long; the fourth quill longest, the third

almost equal, the second considerably shorter, the first short; the

first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth, abruptly cut out on the

inner webs; the secondaries long, broad, and rounded. Tail rather long,

ample, rounded, of twelve broad, rounded, and acuminate feathers.

Bill light bluish-grey at the base, black at the tip; cere and basal

margins yellow. Eyebrows and margins of the eyelids light blue; iris

chestnut. Toes rich yellow; claws bluish-black. Fore part of the head,

cheeks, throat, and under parts, deep brown. Hind head, and posterior

and lateral parts of the neck, light brownish-yellow, the shafts and

concealed parts of the feathers deep brown. The back is deep brown,

glossy, with purplish reflections; the wing-coverts lighter. The primary

quills brownish-black, the secondaries with their coverts brown, and

those next the body more or less mottled with brownish-white, excepting

at the ends; the edge of the wing at the flexure pale yellowish-brown.

Tail dark brown, lighter towards the base, and with a few irregular

whitish markings, like fragments of transverse bands; its coverts pale

brown, mottled with white at the base, and paler at the ends. The short

feathers of the legs and tarsi are light yellowish-brown, each with a dark

shaft; the outer elongated feathers dark brown; the lower tail-coverts

light yellowish-brown. The base of the feathers on the upper parts of

the body is white, on the lower pale dusky grey.

Length 3 feet 2 inches, extent of wings 7 feet; bill along the back 2¾,

edge of lower mandible 2½; tarsus 4½, middle toe and claw 4½, hind claw

2¾. The extremities of the wings are 1 inch short of that of the tail.

THE NORTHERN HARE.

The species of Hare here represented, is found in the more northern

parts of the State of New York, and from thence to the extremities of

Nova Scotia. During the summer months it is of a deep greyish-brown

colour above, darker on the shoulders and rump, and dull white beneath.

About the beginning of October, the tips of the hairs become whitish,

not unfrequently in spots, and at length the fur acquires a snowy hue

all over, although its under parts remain greyish at all seasons. Its

flesh resembles that of the European Hare in taste, but is much lighter

in colour. The markets of Boston and our eastern cities are generally

well supplied with them during winter, when they are brought from the

mountainous districts or highlands of the interior, where they prefer

living. They are easily caught with snares, or run down by fleet dogs

during deep snows. Being a true Hare, it has a form, to which it returns

on being chased.

While at Newfoundland, I procured a remarkably large Hare, which has

been described by Dr RICHARDSON under the name of _Lepus glacialis_.

The greater part of its hair was of a fine pearl-grey colour above, and

white beneath. The ears were black at the extremities, and perhaps those

parts remain so at all seasons. The tread of its hind foot measured

fully three inches in width, when the toes were extended. The head was

much longer and more curved in its frontal line, than in any other hare

that I have seen. The flesh was white, tender, and excellent eating.

The animal weighed 7½ lb. avoirdupois. The species is rather common at

Newfoundland, but I could not ascertain its habits. The feet are in

great request in the manufacturing districts for the use of hatters,

who employ it for smoothing the pile of their fabric.

THE GROUND DOVE.

_COLUMBA PASSERINA_, LINN.

PLATE CLXXXII. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

If the different species of Pigeons and Doves which I have described, have

interested you sufficiently to render you desirous of holding further

converse with that interesting family, and of examining for yourself,

which I sincerely wish you would resolve to do, you may perhaps visit

the islands, which, like so many bastions, protect the shores of South

Carolina, Georgia, and the Floridas, those spots where, in the calm of

every spring morn, the air is rendered balmy by the effluvia of thousands

of flowers, each of which rivals its neighbour in the brilliancy of its

hues. Stop there, kind reader, and seat yourself beneath the broadly

extended arms of the thickly-leaved evergreen oak, and at that joyous

moment when the first beams of the sun reach your eye, see the Owl passing

low and swiftly over the ground, in haste to reach his diurnal retreat

before the increasing light render all things dim to his sight; observe

the leathern-winged Bat, pursuing his undulating course through the dewy

air, now deflecting downwards to seize the retiring nocturnal-insect,

now upwards to pursue another species, as it rises to meet the genial

warmth emitted by the orb of day. Listen,—for at such a moment your

soul will be touched by sounds,—to the soft, the mellow, the melting

accents, which one might suppose inspired by Nature's self, and which

she has taught the Ground Dove to employ in conveying the expression of

his love to his mate, who is listening to them with delight.

Before I proceed to describe the habits of this interesting bird, allow

me to present you with the result of my observations relative to the

geographical distribution of the birds of the genus Columba, which are

either resident in the United States, or visit them annually.

The _Passenger Pigeon_ ranges over the whole of the United States,

excepting perhaps the southernmost portions of the Floridas, and extends

to Newfoundland, where it is well known.

The _Carolina Dove_ ranges from Louisiana to the middle parts of the

State of Massachusetts, but is never seen in Maine. It reaches up the

Mississippi, as far as Prairie du Chien, and in that direction extends

to the borders of Upper Canada.

The _Ground Dove_ is met with from the lower parts of Louisiana to Cape

Hatteras, following the coast quite round the Floridas, but very seldom

seen at any great distance in the interior. It is unknown in the State

of Mississippi; and I will venture to add, that one of these birds has

never been seen in Kentucky, although some writers have alleged that they

occur there. They are more abundant on the sea islands of Georgia, and

the middle portions of the coast of East Florida, than any where else.

A search for them an hundred miles inland would in all probability prove

fruitless.

The _White-headed Pigeon_ is confined to about three hundred miles of

the Florida Keys. It seldom, if ever, visits the mainland. It remains

with us about seven months of the year.

The _Zenaida Dove_ seldom reaches farther east, along the Florida Keys,

than Cape Light-House. It never visits the Main. Its residence with us

is shorter than that of the White-headed Pigeon by a full month.

The _Key West Pigeon_ has never been met with elsewhere than on the

island of that name. It remains there about five months only.

The same is the case with the Blue-headed Ground Pigeon, commonly called

the Cuba Partridge, which is the rarest of all the species known to me

that resort to the Floridas.

In the above account, I have placed the species according to the number

of individuals of each that occur in our country, beginning with the

Passenger Pigeon, which is the most numerous, and ending with the

Blue-headed Pigeon, which is the rarest; and I beg of you, kind reader,

to recollect that hear-say has no part as a foundation for the results

in this statement. I may also inform you, that curiosity, in part,

prompted me to present it, it having been written in 1832, with the view

of seeing if any of these birds shall become more or less numerous, or

extend or diminish their range.

The flight of the Ground Dove is low, easy, and accompanied with a

whistling sound, produced by the action of the wings, when the bird

is surprised and forced to fly. It is less protracted than that of any

other species with which I am acquainted in the United States, with the

exception of the Blue-headed Pigeon. The crossing of the Gulf Stream

by the latter bird is more surprising than the extended flight of the

European Quail. The Ground Dove seldom flies more than a hundred yards

at a time, and indeed is extremely attached to the spot which it has

selected for the season. You may drive it to the opposite end of a large

field, and yet, in a few hours after, it may be found in the place

whence you raised it. Although it alights on trees or low bushes, on

the branches of which it walks with ease, and on which its nest is most

frequently placed, the ground is its usual resort. There it runs with

facility, keeping its tail considerably elevated, as if to save it from

being soiled. It is also fond of alighting on fences, where it is easily

observed, and where it may be heard cooing for half an hour at a time.

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