When the Auks deposit their eggs along with the Guillemots, which

they sometimes do, they drop them in spots from which the water can

escape without injuring them; but when they breed in deep fissures,

which is more frequently the case, many of them lie close together,

and the eggs are deposited on small beds of pebbles or broken stones

raised a couple of inches or more, to let the water pass beneath them.

Call this instinct if you will:—I really do not much care; but you

must permit me to admire the wonderful arrangements of that Nature

from which they have received so much useful knowledge. When they lay

their eggs in such a horizontal cavern as that which I have mentioned

above, you find them scattered at the distance of a few inches from

each other; and there, as well as in the fissures, they sit flat upon

them like Ducks, for example, whereas on an exposed rock, each bird

stands almost upright upon its egg. Another thing quite as curious,

which I observed, is, that, while in exposed situations, the Auk

seldom lays more than one egg, yet in places of greater security

I have, in many instances, found two under a single bird. This may

perhaps astonish you, but I really cannot help it.

The Razor-billed Auks begin to drop their eggs in the beginning of

May. In July we found numerous young ones, although yet small. Their

bill then scarcely exhibited the form which it ultimately assumes.

They were covered with down, had a lisping note, but fed freely on

shrimps and small bits of fish, the food with which their parents

supply them. They were very friendly towards each other, differing

greatly in this respect from the young Puffins, which were continually

quarrelling. They stood almost upright. Whenever a finger was placed

within their reach, they instantly seized it, and already evinced the

desire to bite severely so cordially manifested by the old birds of

this species, which in fact will hang to your hand until choked rather

than let go their hold. The latter when wounded threw themselves on

their back, in the manner of Hawks, and scratched fiercely with their

claws. They walked and ran on the rocks with considerable ease and

celerity, taking to wing, however, as soon as possible. When thus

disturbed while breeding, they fly round the spot many times before

they alight again. Sometimes a whole flock will alight on the water

at some distance, to watch your departure, before they will venture

to return.

This bird lays one or two eggs, according to the nature of the place.

The eggs measure at an average three inches and one-eighth, by two

and one-eighth, and are generally pure white, greatly blotched with

dark reddish-brown or black, the spots generally forming a circle

towards the larger end. They differ considerably from those of the

Common and the Thick-billed Guillemots, being less blunted at the

smaller end. The eggs afford excellent eating; the yolk is of a pale

orange colour, the white pale blue. The eggers collect but few of

the eggs of this bird, they being more difficult to be obtained than

those of the Guillemot, of which they take vast numbers every season.

The food of the Razor-billed Auk consists of shrimps, various other

marine animals, and small fishes, as well as roe. Their flesh is by the

fishers considered good, and I found it tolerable, when well stewed,

although it is dark and therefore not prepossessing. The birds are

two years in acquiring the full size and form of their bill, and,

when full grown, they weighed about a pound and a half. The stomach

is an oblong sac, the lower part of which is rather muscular, and

answers the purpose of a gizzard. In many I found scales, remnants

of fish, and pieces of shells. The intestines were upwards of three

feet in length.

Immediately after the breeding season, these birds drop their quills,

and are quite unable to fly until the beginning of October, when they

all leave their breeding grounds for the sea, and move southward. The

young at this period scarcely shew the white streak between the bill

and the eye; their cheeks, like those of the old birds at this time,

and the fore part of the neck, are dingy white, and remain so until

the following spring, when the only difference between the young and

the old is, that the former have the bill smaller and less furrowed,

and the head more brown. The back, tail, and lower parts do not seem

to undergo any material change.

ALCA TORDA, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 210.—_Lath._ Ind.

Ornith. vol. ii. p. 793.—_Ch. Bonap._ Synops. of Birds of

the United States, p. 431.

RAZOR-BILL, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 547.

Adult Male in summer. Plate CCXIV. Fig. 1.

Bill shorter than the head, feathered as far as the nostrils, beyond

which it is very high, exceedingly compressed, and obliquely furrowed

on the sides. Upper mandible with the dorsal line curved so as to form

the third of a circle, the ridge extremely narrow but rounded, the

sides nearly flat, with five grooves, the one next the base deeper

and more narrow, the edges inflected and sharp, the tip decurved

and obtuse. Nostrils medial, marginal, linear, short, pervious, but

concealed by the feathers. Lower mandible with the angle very narrow,

and having a horny triangular appendage, the base at first horizontal

and extremely narrow, then sloping forwards and rounded, the dorsal

outline rounded, towards the end concave, the sides slightly concave,

the edges inflected, the tip decurved.

Head large, oblong, anteriorly narrowed. Eyes small. Neck short and

strong. Body full, rather depressed. Wings small. Feet placed far

behind, short, rather strong; tibia bare a short way above the joint;

tarsus very short, compressed, anteriorly scutellate, laterally covered

with reticulated angular scales, posteriorly granulate. Hind toe

wanting; toes of moderate length, rather slender, scutellate above,

connected by reticulated entire membranes, the inner toe having also

a projecting margin; outer toe slightly longer than middle one; inner

considerably shorter. Claws rather small, arched, compressed, obtuse.

Plumage close, blended, very soft, on the head very short and velvety.

Wings short, curved, narrow, acute. Primary quills narrow, incurved,

acute, first longest, second slightly shorter, the rest rapidly

graduated; secondary quills very short, obliquely rounded. Tail short,

tapering, of twelve narrow, pointed feathers.

Bill black, with a white line across each mandible; inside of the

mouth gamboge-yellow. Iris deep hazel. Feet black. Fore part of neck

below, and all the lower parts, white; the rest black, the head, hind

neck, and back, glossed with olive-green, the throat and sides of

the neck tinged with chocolate, the wings with brown, the tips of the

secondary quills, and a narrow line from the bill to the eye, white.

Length to the end of tail 17 inches, to the end of claws 17-3/4; extent

of wings 29-1/2; wing from flexure 8-1/4, tail 4; bill along the ridge

1-7/12, along the edge 2-2/12, its greatest depth 11/12; tarsus 1-2/12,

middle toe 1-8/12, its claw 5/12. Weight 1-1/2 pound.

Adult Female in summer. Plate CCXIV. Fig. 2.

The female is precisely similar to the male.

The Young in their winter plumage have the colouring distributed as

in the old birds, but with the black duller, the wings more brown,

the throat and sides of the head mottled with white, the white line

from the bill to the eye existing, but the bill much smaller, without

furrows or a white line.

The Old Birds in winter have the throat and sides of the neck mottled

as described above; but in other respects their colours are the same

as in summer.

The gullet wide, dilated towards the lower extremity, its mucous

coat longitudinally corrugated; the proventriculus very wide and

glandular; the stomach rather small, oblong, muscular, with an inner,

longitudinally corrugated and horny cuticular coat. Pylorus very

small; intestine near its commencement 4/12 of an inch in diameter,

gradually contracted to the cæca, where it is 2/12: cæca half an inch

long, tapering. The length of the gullet and stomach together is 8,

that of the intestine 41 inches.

HYPERBOREAN PHALAROPE.

_PHALAROPUS HYPERBOREUS_, LATH.

PLATE CCXV. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

Few individuals of this species are ever seen to the South of New

York. Near Boston I procured several, and my learned friend THOMAS

NUTTALL presented me with some that had been shot in the neighbourhood

of that city, as did Mr JOHN BETHUNE and Mr RODMAN of New Bedford.

As we advanced eastward in the month of May, we saw more and more of

them, and while at Eastport in Maine my son John shot several out

of flocks of sixty or more. At one time a flock consisting of more

than a hundred was seen in the Bay of Fundy. They were exceedingly

shy, and the gunners of Eastport, who knew them under the name of

Sea Geese, spoke of them as very curious birds.

They procure their food principally upon the water, on which they

alight like Ducks, float as light as Gulls, and move about in search of

food with much nimbleness. The sight of a bank of floating sea-weeds

or garbage of any kind induces them at once to alight upon it, when

they walk about as unconcernedly as if on land. Their notes, which

resemble the syllables _tweet, tweet, tweet_, are sharp and clear,

and in their flight they resemble our common American Snipe. At the

approach of an enemy, they immediately close their ranks, until they

almost touch each other, when great havock is made among them; but

if not immediately shot at, they rise all at once and fly swiftly

off emitting their shrill cries, and remove to a great distance.

These Phalaropes congregate in this manner for the purpose of moving

northwards to their breeding grounds, although some remain and breed

as far south as Mount Desert Island. I have met with them in equally

large flocks at a distance of more than a hundred miles from the

shores. They were feeding on great beds of floating seaweeds, and in

several instances some Red Phalaropes were seen in their company.

Whilst in Labrador, I observed that the Hyperborean Phalarope occurred

only in small parties of a few pairs, and that instead of keeping

at sea or on the salt-water bays, they were always in the immediate

vicinity of small fresh-water lakes or ponds, near which they bred.

The nest was a hollow scooped out among the herbage, and covered

with a few bits of dried grass and moss. The eggs are always four;

they measure at an average an inch and three-sixteenths in length,

seven-eighths in their greatest diameter, are rather pointed at the

smaller end, and are more uniform in their size and markings than

those of most water-birds. The ground colour is a deep dull buff,

and is irregularly marked with large and small blotches of dark

reddish-brown, which are larger and more abundant on the crown. The

birds shewed great anxiety for the safety of their eggs, limping

before us, or running with extended wings, and emitting a feeble

melancholy note as if about to expire. When we approached them, they

resumed all their natural alacrity, piped in their usual manner, flew

off and alighted on the water. Captain Emery and myself followed some

nearly an hour, assisted by a pointer dog, in the hope of tiring them

out; but they seemed to laugh at our efforts, and when Dash was quite

close to them, they would suddenly fly off in another direction, and

with great swiftness, always leading us farther from their nests. The

young leave the nest shortly after they are hatched, and run after

their parents over the moss, and along the edges of the small ponds;

but I saw none on the water that were not fully fledged. Both young

and old had departed by the beginning of August.

The Hyperborean Phalarope seems to undergo an almost continual moult,

and is in full plumage only about six weeks each year. The young when

fledged are nearly grey above, and all white beneath. Some of them

breed before they have acquired what may be considered the perfect

plumage; and the very old birds become greyish also at the approach

of winter, the red of the throat and other parts becoming bright

again in the beginning of May, or sometimes in April. The scapulars

of the young are conspicuously shorter than the longest primaries,

but after the first moult are equal in length. The upper wing-coverts

are then also short.

I have never met with this species in any part of the interior,

although I have procured the Red Phalarope and Wilson’s Phalarope in

many parts to the west of the Alleghany Mountains, at a distance of

more than a thousand miles from the sea coast.

PHALAROPUS HYPERBOREUS, _Lath._ Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p.

774.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of the United States,

p. 342.—_Swains. and Richards._ Fauna Bor. Amer. part ii.

p. 406.

HYPERBOREAN PHALAROPE, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Amer. Ornith. vol.

iii.—_Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 239.

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCXV. Fig. 1.

Bill long, very slender, flexible, nearly cylindrical, but towards

the point tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight,

excepting at the end, where it is a little curved, the ridge broad

and depressed, the sides slightly sloping, the edges rounded, and

inflected towards the narrow slightly curved, acute tip. Nasal groove

long, linear; nostrils basal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with

the angle very long and narrow, the sides convex, the tip narrowed.

Head small, with the fore part high and rounded. Eyes small. Neck

rather long and slender. Body slender. Wings long. Feet of moderate

length, slender; tibia bare a considerable way above the joint; tarsus

much compressed, narrowed before, very thin behind, covered anteriorly

with numerous scutella; toes slender; first extremely small, free,

with a slight membrane beneath; second slightly shorter than fourth,

third considerably longer; toes all scutellate above, margined on

both sides with lobed and pectinated membranes, which are united at

the base, so as to render the foot half webbed; the outer web much

longer than the inner. Claws very small, compressed, arched, that of

the middle toe with a recurved sharp edge.

Plumage soft and blended. Feathers of the back, and especially the

scapulars, elongated. Wings long and pointed; primary quills tapering,

but rounded, the first longest, the second scarcely shorter, the

rest rapidly graduated; secondary quills rather short and narrow,

the inner tapering and elongated so as nearly to equal the longest

primaries when the wing is closed. Tail rather short, much rounded,

of twelve feathers.

Bill black. Iris dark brown. Feet bluish-grey; claws black. The general

colour of the upper parts is greyish-black, the head lighter and more

tinged with grey, the scapulars and some of the feathers of the back

edged with yellowish-red, of which colour also are the sides of the

head and neck; throat and sides of the upper part of the neck white.

Wing-coverts and quills brownish-black, tinged with grey, the shafts

of the quills, the margins and tips of the secondaries, and a broad

bar on the tips of the secondary coverts, white. Tail light grey, the

feathers margined with white, the two middle ones dark brownish-grey,

the lateral upper tail-coverts white, barred with dusky. The breast

and abdomen white.

Length to end of tail 6 inches, to end of claws 6-1/4, to end of wing

5-3/4; extent of wings 13-1/2; wing from flexure 4-1/2; tail 2-1/4;

bill along the back 11/12, along the edge of lower mandible 11/12;

tarsus 10/12,middle toe 10/12, its claw 2/12.

Adult Female. Plate CCXV. Fig. 2.

The Female is similar to the male, but the red markings are not so

deep in tint.

Young fully fledged. Plate CCXV. Fig. 3.

The young bird has the markings similarly disposed, but the upper parts

are in general of a dull dark grey, the red of the neck much fainter,

and that of the scapulars much paler, and inclining to greyish-yellow.

FISHING IN THE OHIO.

It is with mingled feelings of pleasure and regret that I recall to my

mind the many pleasant days I have spent on the shores of the Ohio.

The visions of former years crowd on my view, as I picture to myself

the fertile soil and genial atmosphere of our great western garden,

Kentucky, and view the placid waters of the fair stream that flows

along its western boundary. Methinks I am now on the banks of the

noble river. Twenty years of my life have returned to me; my sinews are

strong, and the “bowstring of my spirit is not slack;” bright visions

of the future float before me, as I sit on a grassy bank, gazing on

the glittering waters. Around me are dense forests of lofty trees

and thickly tangled undergrowth, amid which are heard the songs of

feathered choristers, and from whose boughs hang clusters of glowing

fruits and beautiful flowers. Reader, I am very happy. But now the

dream has vanished, and here I am in the British Athens, penning an

episode for my Ornithological Biography, and having before me sundry

well-thumbed and weather-beaten folios, from which I expect to be

able to extract some interesting particulars respecting the methods

employed in those days in catching Cat-fish.

But, before entering on my subject, I will present you with a brief

description of the place of my residence on the banks of the Ohio.

When I first landed at Henderson in Kentucky, my family, like the

village, was quite small. The latter consisted of six or eight houses;

the former of my wife, myself, and a young child. Few as the houses

were, we fortunately found one empty. It was a log-_cabin_, not a

log-_house_; but as better could not be had, we were pleased. Well,

then, we were located. The country around was thinly peopled, and all

purchasable provisions rather scarce; but our neighbours were friendly,

and we had brought with us flour and bacon-hams. Our pleasures were

those of young people not long married, and full of life and merriment;

a single smile from our infant was, I assure you, more valued by us

than all the treasures of a modern Crœsus would have been. The woods

were amply stocked with game, the river with fish; and now and then

the hoarded sweets of the industrious bees were brought from some

hollow tree to our little table. Our child’s cradle was our richest

piece of furniture, our guns and fishing-lines our most serviceable

implements, for although we began to cultivate a garden, the rankness

of the soil kept the seeds we planted far beneath the tall weeds that

sprung up the first year. I had then a partner, a “man of business,”

and there was also with me a Kentucky youth, who much preferred the

sports of the forest and river to either day-book or ledger. He was

naturally, as I may say, a good woodsman, hunter, and angler, and,

like me, thought chiefly of procuring supplies of fish and fowl. To

the task accordingly we directed all our energies.

Quantity as well as quality was an object with us, and although we

well knew that three species of Cat-fish existed in the Ohio, and that

all were sufficiently good, we were not sure as to the best method

of securing them. We determined, however, to work on a large scale,

and immediately commenced making a famous “trot-line.” Now, reader,

as you may probably know nothing about this engine, I shall describe

it to you.

A trot-line is one of considerable length and thickness, both

qualities, however, varying according to the extent of water, and

the size of the fish you expect to catch. As the Ohio, at Henderson,

is rather more than half a mile in breadth, and as Cat-fishes weigh

from one to an hundred pounds, we manufactured a line which measured

about two hundred yards in length, as thick as the little finger of

some fair one yet in her teens, and as white as the damsel’s finger

well could be, for it was wholly of Kentucky cotton, just, let me

tell you, because that substance stands the water better than either

hemp or flax. The main line finished, we made a hundred smaller ones,

about five feet in length, to each of which we fastened a capital

hook of KIRBY and Co.’s manufacture. Now for the bait!

It was the month of May. Nature had brought abroad myriads of living

beings: they covered the earth, glided through the water, and swarmed

in the air. The Cat-fish is a voracious creature, not at all nice in

feeding, but one who, like the vulture, contents himself with carrion

when nothing better can be had. A few experiments proved to us that,

of the dainties with which we tried to allure them to our hooks, they

gave a decided preference, at that season, to _live toads_. These

animals were very abundant about Henderson. They ramble or feed,

whether by instinct or reason, during early or late twilight more

than at any other time, especially after a shower, and are unable to

bear the heat of the sun’s rays for several hours before and after

noon. We have a good number of these crawling things in America,

particularly in the western and southern parts of the Union, and are

very well supplied with frogs, snakes, lizards, and even crocodiles,

which we call alligators; but there is enough of food for them all,

and we generally suffer them to creep about, to leap or to flounder

as they please, or in accordance with the habits which have been

given them by the great Conductor of all.

During the month of May, and indeed until autumn, we found an abundant

supply of toads. Many “fine ladies,” no doubt, would have swooned, or

at least screamed and gone into hysterics, had they seen one of our

baskets filled with these animals, all alive and plump. Fortunately

we had no tragedy queen or sentimental spinster at Henderson. Our

Kentucky ladies mind their own affairs, and seldom meddle with those of

others farther than to do all they can for their comfort. The toads,

collected one by one, and brought home in baskets, were deposited in

a barrel for use. And now that night is over, and as it is the first

trial we are going to give our trot-line, just watch our movements

from that high bank beside the stream. There sit down under the large

cotton-wood tree. You are in no danger of catching cold at this season.

My assistant follows me with a gaff hook, while I carry the paddle of

our canoe; a boy bears on his back a hundred toads as good as ever

hopped. Our line—oh, I forgot to inform you that we had set it last

night, but without the small ones you now see on my arm. Fastening

one end to yon sycamore, we paddled our canoe, with the rest nicely

coiled in the stern, and soon reached its extremity, when I threw

over the side the heavy stone fastened to it as a sinker. All this

was done that it might be thoroughly soaked, and without kinks or

snarls in the morning. Now, you observe, we launch our light bark,

the toads in the basket are placed next to my feet in the bow; I have

the small lines across my knees all ready looped at the end. NAT,

with the paddle, and assisted by the current, keeps the stern of our

boat directly down stream; and DAVID fixes, by the skin of the back

and hind parts, the living bait to the hook. I hold the main line

all the while, and now, having fixed one linelet to it, over goes the

latter. Can you see the poor toad kicking and flouncing in the water?

“No”—well, I do. You observe at length that all the lines, one after

another, have been fixed, baited, and dropped. We now return swiftly

to the shore.

“What a delightful thing is fishing!” have I more than once heard

some knowing angler exclaim, who, with “the patience of Job,” stands

or slowly moves along some rivulet twenty feet wide, and three or

four feet deep, with a sham fly to allure a trout, which, when at

length caught, weighs half a pound. Reader, I never had such patience.

Although I have waited ten years, and yet see only three-fourths of

the Birds of America engraved, although some of the drawings of that

work were patiently made so long ago as 1805, and although I have

to wait with patience two years more before I see the end of it, I

never could hold a line or a rod for many minutes, unless I had—not

a “nibble,” but a hearty bite, and could throw the fish at once over

my head on the ground. No, no—If I fish for trout, I must soon give

up, or catch, as I have done in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh, or the streams

of Maine, fifty or more in a couple of hours. But the trot-line is in

the river, and there it may patiently wait, until I visit it toward

night. Now I take up my gun and note-book, and, accompanied by my

dog, intend to ramble through the woods until breakfast. Who knows

but I may shoot a turkey or a deer? It is barely four o’clock; and

see what delightful mornings we have at this season in Kentucky!

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