on the sea-coast, and the smaller the ponds or lakes to which they
resort, the more easy it is to approach them. They usually feed in
the manner of Swans and fresh-water Ducks, that is, by plunging their
heads towards the bottom of shallow ponds or the borders of lakes and
rivers, immersing their fore parts, and frequently exhibiting their
legs and feet with the posterior portion of their body elevated in
the air. They never dive on such occasions. If feeding in the fields
or meadows, they nip the blades of grass sidewise, in the manner of
the Domestic Goose, and after rainy weather, they are frequently
seen rapidly patting the earth with both feet, as if to force the
earth-worms from their burrows. If they dabble at times with their
bills in muddy water, in search of food, this action is by no means so
common with them as it is with Ducks, the Mallard for example. They
are extremely fond of alighting in corn-fields covered with tender
blades, where they often remain through the night and commit great
havoc. Wherever you find them, and however remote from the haunts of
man the place may be, they are at all times so vigilant and suspicious,
that it is extremely rare to surprise them. In keenness of sight and
acuteness of hearing, they are perhaps surpassed by no bird whatever.
They act as sentinels towards each other, and during the hours at
which the flock reposes, one or more ganders stand on the watch.
At the sight of cattle, horses, or animals of the deer kind, they
are seldom alarmed, but a bear or a cougar is instantly announced,
and if on such occasions the flock is on the ground near water, the
birds immediately betake themselves in silence to the latter, swim
to the middle of the pond or river, and there remain until danger is
over. Should their enemies pursue them in the water, the males utter
loud cries, and the birds arrange themselves in close ranks, rise
simultaneously in a few seconds, and fly off in a compact body, seldom
at such times forming lines or angles, it being in fact only when the
distance they have to travel is great that they dispose themselves in
those forms. So acute is their sense of hearing, that they are able
to distinguish the different sounds or footsteps of their foes with
astonishing accuracy. Thus the breaking of a dry stick by a deer is
at once distinguished from the same accident occasioned by a man. If
a dozen of large turtles drop into the water, making a great noise in
their fall, or if the same effect is produced by an alligator, the
Wild Goose pays no regard to it; but however faint and distant may
be the sound of an Indian’s paddle, that may by accident have struck
the side of his canoe, it is at once marked, every individual raises
its head and looks intently towards the place from which the noise
has proceeded, and in silence all watch the movements of their enemy.
These birds are extremely cunning also, and should they conceive
themselves unseen, they silently move into the tall grasses by the
margin of the water, lower their heads, and lie perfectly quiet until
the boat has passed by. I have seen them walk off from a large frozen
pond into the woods, to elude the sight of the hunter, and return as
soon as he had crossed the pond. But should there be snow on the ice
or in the woods, they prefer watching the intruder, and take to wing
long before he is within shooting distance, as if aware of the ease
with which they could be followed by their tracks over the treacherous
surface.
The Canada Geese are fond of returning regularly to the place which
they have chosen for resting in, and this they continue to do until
they find themselves greatly molested while there. In parts of the
country where they are little disturbed, they seldom go farther than
the nearest sandbank or the dry shore of the places in which they
feed; but in other parts they retire many miles to spots of greater
security, and of such extent as will enable them to discover danger
long before it can reach them. When such a place is found, and proves
secure, many flocks resort to it, but alight apart in separate groups.
Thus, on some of the great sandbars of the Ohio, the Mississippi,
and other large streams, congregated flocks, often amounting to a
thousand individuals, may be seen at the approach of night, which
they spend there, lying on the sand within a few feet of each other,
every flock having its own sentinel. In the dawn of next morning they
rise on their feet, arrange and clean their feathers, perhaps walk
to the water to drink, and then depart for their feeding grounds.
When I first went to the Falls of the Ohio, the rocky shelvings of
which are often bare for fully half a mile, thousands of wild geese
of this species rested there at night. The breadth of the various
channels that separate the rocky islands from either shore, and the
rapidity of the currents which sweep along them, render this place
of resort more secure than most others. The wild geese still betake
themselves to these islands during winter for the same purpose, but
their number has become very small; and so shy are these birds at
present in the neighbourhood of Louisville, that the moment they are
disturbed at the ponds where they go to feed each morning, were it
but by the report of a single gun, they immediately return to their
rocky asylums. Even there, however, they are by no means secure, for
it not unfrequently happens that a flock alights within half gunshot
of a person concealed in a pile of drifted wood, whose aim generally
proves too true for their peace. Nay, I knew a gentleman, who had a
large mill opposite Rock Island, and who used to kill the poor geese
at the distance of about a quarter of a mile, by means of a small
cannon heavily charged with rifle bullets; and, if I recollect truly,
Mr TARASCON in this manner not unfrequently obtained a dozen or more
geese at a shot. This was done at dawn, when the birds were busily
engaged in trimming their plumage with the view of flying off in a
few minutes to their feeding grounds. This war of extermination could
not last long: the geese deserted the fatal rock, and the great gun
of the mighty miller was used only for a few weeks.
While on the water, the Canada Goose moves with considerable grace,
and in its general deportment resembles the wild Swan, to which I
think it is nearly allied. If wounded in the wing, they sometimes
dive to a small depth, and make off with astonishing address, always
in the direction of the shore, the moment they reach which, you see
them sneaking through the grass or bushes, their necks extended
an inch or so above the ground, and in this manner proceeding so
silently, that, unless closely watched, they are pretty sure to
escape. If shot at and wounded while on the ice, they immediately
walk off in a dignified manner, as if anxious to make you believe
that they have not been injured, emitting a loud note all the while;
but the instant they reach the shore they become silent, and make off
in the manner described. I was much surprised one day, while on the
coast of Labrador, to see how cunningly one of these birds, which,
in consequence of the moult, was quite unable to fly, managed for a
while to elude our pursuit. It was first perceived at some distance
from the shore, when the boat was swiftly rowed towards it, and it
swam before us with great speed, making directly towards the land; but
when we came within a few yards of it, it dived, and nothing could be
seen of it for a long time. Every one of the party stood on tiptoe
to mark the spot at which it should rise, but all in vain, when the
man at the rudder accidentally looked down over the stern and there
saw the goose, its body immersed, the point of its bill alone above
water, and its feet busily engaged in propelling it so as to keep
pace with the movements of the boat. The sailor attempted to catch it
while within a foot or two of him, but with the swiftness of thought
it shifted from side to side, fore and aft, until delighted at having
witnessed so much sagacity in a goose, I begged the party to suffer
the poor bird to escape.
The crossing of the Canada Goose with the common domestic species
has proved as advantageous as that of the wild with the tame Turkey,
the cross breed being much larger than the original one, more easily
raised, and more speedily fattened. This process is at present carried
on to a considerable extent in our Western and Eastern States, where
the hybrids are regularly offered for sale during autumn and winter,
and where they bring a higher price than either of the species from
which they are derived.
The Canada Goose makes its first appearance in the western country,
as well as along our Atlantic coast, from the middle of September to
that of October, arriving in flocks composed of a few families. The
young birds procured at this early season soon get into good order,
become tender and juicy, and therefore afford excellent eating. If a
sportsman is expert and manages to shoot the old birds first, he is
pretty sure to capture the less wily young ones afterwards, as they
will be very apt to return to the same feeding places to which their
parents had led them at their first arrival. To await their coming
to a pond where they are known to feed is generally effectual, but
to me this mode of proceeding never afforded much pleasure, more
especially because the appearance of any other bird which I wished
to obtain would at once induce me to go after it, and thus frighten
the game, so that I rarely procured any on such occasions. But yet,
as I have witnessed the killing of many a fine goose, I hope you will
suffer me to relate one or two anecdotes connected with the shooting
of this kind of game.
Reader, I am well acquainted with one of the best sportsmen now
living in the whole of the western country, one possessed of strength,
activity, courage, and patience,—qualities of great importance in a
gunner. I have frequently seen him mount a capital horse of speed and
bottom at midnight, when the mercury in the thermometer was about
the freezing point, and the ground was covered with snow and ice,
the latter of which so encased the trees that you might imagine them
converted into glass. Well, off he goes at a round gallop, his steed
rough shod, but nobody knows whither, save myself, who am always by
his side. He has a wallet containing our breakfast, and abundance of
ammunition, together with such implements as are necessary on occasions
like the present. The night is pitch-dark, and dismal enough; but who
cares! _He_ knows the woods as well as any Kentucky hunter, and in
this respect I am not much behind him. A long interval has passed,
and now the first glimpse of day appears in the east. We know quite
well where we are, and that we have travelled just twenty miles.
The Barred Owl alone interrupts the melancholy silence of the hour.
Our horses we secure, and on foot we move cautiously towards a “long
pond,” the feeding-place of several flocks of geese, none of which
have yet arrived, although the whole surface of open water is covered
with Mallards, Widgeons, Pintail Ducks, Blue-winged and Green-winged
Teals. My friend’s gun, like mine, is a long and trusty one, and the
opportunity is too tempting. On all fours we cautiously creep to the
very edge of the pond; we now raise ourselves on our knees, level
our pieces, and let fly. The woods resound with repeated echoes, the
air is filled with Ducks of all sorts, our dogs dash into the half
frozen water, and in a few minutes a small heap of game lies at our
feet. Now, we retire, separate, and betake ourselves to different
sides of the pond. If I may judge of my companion’s fingers by the
state of my own, I may feel certain that it would be difficult for
him to fasten a button. There we are shivering, with contracted feet
and chattering teeth; but the geese are coming, and their well known
cry, _hauk, hauk, awhawk, awhawk_, resounds through the air. They
wheel and wheel for a while, but at length gracefully alight on the
water, and now they play and wash themselves, and begin to look about
for food. There must be at least twenty of them. Twenty more soon
arrive, and in less than half an hour we have before us a flock of a
hundred individuals. My experienced friend has put a snow-white shirt
over his apparel, and although I am greatly intent on observing his
motions, I see that it is impossible even for the keen eye of the
sentinel goose to follow them. Bang, bang, quoth his long gun, and
the birds in dismay instantly start, and fly towards the spot where
I am. When they approach I spring up on my feet, the geese shuffle,
and instantaneously rise upright; I touch my triggers singly, and
broken-winged and dead two birds come heavily to the ground at my
feet. Oh that we had more guns! But the business at this pond has
been transacted. We collect our game, return to our horses, fasten
the necks of the geese and ducks together, and throwing them across
our saddles, proceed towards another pond. In this manner we continue
to shoot until the number of geese obtained would seem to you so very
large that I shall not specify it.
At another time my friend proceeds alone to the Falls of the Ohio,
and, as usual, reaches the margins of the stream long before day.
His well-trained steed plunges into the whirls of the rapid current,
and, with some difficulty, carries his bold rider to an island, where
he lands drenched and cold. The horse knows what he has to do as
well as his master, and while the former ranges about and nips the
frozen herbage, the latter carefully approaches a well-known pile
of drifted wood, and conceals himself in it. His famous dog Nep is
close at his heels. Now the dull grey dawn gives him a dim view of the
geese; he fires, several fall on the spot, and one severely wounded
rises and alights in the Indian Chute. Neptune dashes after it, but
as the current is powerful, the gunner whistles to his horse, who,
with pricked ears, gallops up. He instantly vaults into the saddle,
and now see them plunge into the treacherous stream. The wounded
game is overtaken, the dog is dragged along, and at length on the
Indiana shore the horse and his rider have effected a landing. Any
other man than he of whose exploits I am the faithful recorder, would
have perished long ago. But it is not half so much for the sake of
the plunder that he undergoes all this labour and danger, as for the
gratification it affords his kind heart to distribute the game among
his numerous friends in Louisville.
On our eastern shores matters are differently managed. The gunners
there shoot geese with the prospect of pecuniary gain, and go to work
in another way. Some attract them with wooden geese, others with
actual birds; they lie in ambush for many hours at a time, and destroy
an immense number of them, by using extremely long guns; but as there
is little sport in this sort of shooting, I shall say no more about
it. Here the Canada Goose feeds much on a species of long slender
grass, the _Zostera marina_, along with marine insects, crustacea,
and small shell-fish, all of which have a tendency to destroy the
agreeable flavour which their flesh has when their food consists of
fresh-water plants, corn, and grass. They spend much of their time
at some distance from the shores, become more shy, diminish in bulk,
and are much inferior as food to those which visit the interior of
the country. None of these, however, are at all to be compared with
the goslings bred in the inland districts, and procured in September,
when, in my opinion, they far surpass the renowned Canvass-backed Duck.
A curious mode of shooting the Canada Goose I have practised with
much success. I have sunk in the sand of the bars to which these
birds resort at night, a tight hogshead, to within an inch of its
upper edges, and placing myself within it at the approach of evening,
have drawn over me a quantity of brushwood, placing my gun on the
sand, and covering it in like manner with twigs and leaves. The birds
would sometimes alight very near me, and in this concealment I have
killed several at a shot; but the stratagem answers for only a few
nights in the season. During severe winters these birds are able to
keep certain portions of the deepest parts of a pond quite open and
free from ice, by their continued movements in the water; at all
events, such open spaces occasionally occur in ponds and lakes, and
are resorted to by the geese, among which great havoc is made.
It is alleged in the State of Maine that a distinct species of Canada
Goose resides there, which is said to be much smaller than the one
now under your notice, and is described as resembling it in all other
particulars. Like the true Canada Goose, it builds a large nest, which
it lines with its own down. Sometimes it is placed on the sea-shore,
at other times by the margin of a fresh-water lake or pond. That
species is distinguished there by the name of _Flight Goose_, and is
said to be entirely migratory, whereas the Canada Goose is resident.
But, notwithstanding all my exertions, I did not succeed in procuring
so much as a feather of this alleged species.
While we were at Newfoundland, on our return from Labrador, on the
15th August 1833, small flocks of the Canada Goose were already
observed flying southward. In that country their appearance is hailed
with delight, and great numbers of them are shot. They breed rather
abundantly by the lakes of the interior of that interesting country.
In the harbour of Great Macatina in Labrador, I saw a large pile of
young Canada Geese, that had been procured a few days before, and were
already salted for winter use. The pile consisted of several hundred
individuals, all of which had been killed before they were able to
fly. I was told there that this species fed much on the leaves of the
dwarf firs, and, on examining their gizzards, found the statement to
be correct.
The young dive very expertly, soon after their reaching the water, at
the least appearance of danger. In the Southern and Western States, the
enemies of the Canada Goose are, by water, the Alligator, the Garfish,
and the Turtle; and on land, the Cougar, the Lynx, and the Racoon.
While in the air, they are liable to be attacked by the White-headed
Eagle. It is a very hardy bird, and individuals have been kept in a
state of captivity or domestication for upwards of forty years. Every
portion of it is useful to man, for besides the value of the flesh as
an article of food, the feathers, the quills, and the fat, are held
in request. The eggs also afford very good eating.
ANAS CANADENSIS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 198.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 838.
ANSER CANADENSIS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis of Birds of
the United States, p. 377.
CANADA GOOSE, ANAS CANADENSIS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol.
viii. p. 52. pl. 67. fig. 4.
ANSER CANADENSIS, CANADA GOOSE, _Swains. and Richards._
Fauna Bor. Amer. p. 468.
CANADA GOOSE, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 349.
Adult Male. Plate CCI. Fig. 1.
Bill shorter than the head, rather higher than broad at the base,
somewhat conical, depressed towards the end, rounded at the tip.
Upper mandible with the dorsal line sloping, the ridge broad and
flattened, the sides sloping, the edges soft and obtuse, the oblique
marginal lamellæ short, transverse, about thirty on each side; the
unguis obovate, convex, denticulate on the inner edge. Nasal groove
oblong, parallel to the ridge, filled by the soft membrane of the
bill; nostrils medial, lateral, longitudinal, narrow-elliptical,
open, pervious. Lower mandible straight, with the angle very long,
narrow, and rounded, the edges soft and obtuse, with about thirty
oblique lamellæ on a perpendicular plane.
Head small, oblong, compressed. Neck long and slender. Body full,
slightly depressed. Feet short, stout, placed behind the centre of
the body; legs bare a little above the tibio-tarsal joint; tarsus
short, a little compressed, covered all round with angular reticulated
scales, which are smaller behind; hind toe very small, with a narrow
membrane; third toe longest, fourth a little shorter, but longer than
second; all the toes reticulated above at the base, but with narrow
transverse scutella towards the end; the three anterior connected by
a reticulated membrane, the outer with a thick margin, the inner with
the margin extended into a two-lobed web; claws small, arched, rather
compressed, except that of the middle toe, which is bent obliquely
outwards and depressed, with a curved edge. Wings of moderate length,
with an obtuse protuberance at the flexure.
Plumage close, rather short, compact above, blended on the neck
and lower parts of the body. The feathers of the head and neck very
narrow, of the back very broad and abrupt, of the breast and belly
broadly rounded. Wings, when closed, extending to about an inch from
the end of the tail, acute; primaries very strong, curved, the second
longest, the third slightly shorter, the first almost as long as the
third, the rest rapidly graduated; secondaries long, rather narrow,
rounded. Tail very short, rounded, of eighteen stiff, rounded, but
acuminate, feathers.
Bill, feet, and claws black. Iris chestnut-brown. Head and two upper
thirds of the neck glossy black; forehead, cheeks, and chin, tinged
with brown; lower eyelid white; a broad band of the same across
the throat to behind the eyes; rump and tail-feathers also black.
The general colour of the rest of the upper parts is greyish-brown,
the wing-coverts shaded into ash-grey; all the feathers terminally
edged with very pale brown; the lower part of the neck passing into
greyish-white, which is the general colour of the lower parts, with
the exception of the abdomen, which is pure white, the sides, which
are pale brownish-grey, the feathers tipped with white, and the lower
wing-coverts, which are also pale brownish-grey. The margins of the
rump, and the upper tail-coverts, pure white.
In very old males, I have found the breast of a fine pale buff.
Length to end of tail 43 inches, extent of wings 65; bill along the
ridge 2-1/2, in depth at the base 1-2/12, in breadth 1; tarsus 3-7/12;
middle toe and claw 4-1/4; wing from flexure 20; tail 7-1/2. Weight
7 lb.
Adult Female. Plate CCI. Fig. 2.
The Female is somewhat less than the male, but similar in colouring,
although the tints are duller. The white of the throat is tinged with
brown; the lower parts are always more grey, and the black of the
head, neck, rump, and tail, is shaded with brown.
Length 41 inches. Weight 5-3/4 lb.
THE RED-THROATED DIVER.
_COLYMBUS SEPTENTRIONALIS_, LINN.
PLATE CCII. MALE IN SUMMER, YOUNG MALE IN WINTER, FEMALE, AND YOUNG
UNFLEDGED.
Whilst the icicles are yet hanging from the rocks of our eastern
shores, and the snows are gradually giving way under the influence
of the April rains, the Bluebird is heard to sound the first notes
of his love-song, and the Red-throated Diver is seen to commence his
flight. Already paired, the male and female, side by side, move swiftly
through the air, steering their course, at a great height, towards
some far distant region of the dreary north. Pair after pair advance
at intervals during the whole day, and perhaps continue their journey
all night. Their long necks are extended, their feet stretched out
rudder-like beyond the short tail, and onwards they speed, beating the
air with great regularity. Now they traverse a great arm of the sea,
now cross a peninsula; but let what may intervene, their undeviating
course holds straight forwards, as the needle points to its pole.
High as they are, you can perceive the brilliant white of their lower
parts. Onward they speed in silence, and as I stand gazing after
them, they have already disappeared from my view.
The middle of May has arrived; our woods are once more filled with
the melodies of numberless warblers, and the Divers have ceased to
be seen on our eastern coasts. To study their habits at this season,
we must follow them to the islands in the mouth of the broad St
Lawrence, or to the granitic rocks of Labrador. The voyage cannot be
performed without great expense, and may be attended with danger,
but enthusiasm urges me on, and now my bark skims over the blue
waters. At length arrived on the rocky shores, I prepare to visit
the interior of that rude and moss-clad region. Thousands of little
lakes are seen, on which are numberless islets richly clad with grass
and sedge, the whole of which seems as if it had grown in a day, so
tender are the fresh blades, and so pure their light green tint. High
over these waters, the produce of the melted snows, the Red-throated
Diver is seen gambolling by the side of his mate. The males emit their
love-notes, and, with necks gracefully curved downwards, speed by the
females, saluting them with mellow tones as they pass. In broad circles
they wheel their giddy flight, and now, with fantastic glidings and
curves, they dive towards the spot of their choice. Alighted on the
water, how gracefully they swim, how sportively they beat it with
their strong pinions, how quickly they plunge and rise again, and
how joyously do they manifest to each other the depth and intensity
of their affection! Now with erected neck and body deeply immersed
they swim side by side. Reynard they perceive cunningly advancing
at a distance; but they are too vigilant for him, and down like a
flash they go, nor rise again until far beyond his reach. Methinks
I see them curiously concealed among the rank weeds under the bank
of their own islet, their bills alone raised above the water, and
there will they remain for an hour, rather than shew themselves to
their insidious enemy, who, disappointed, leaves them to pursue their
avocations.