When the Wood Ibis has caught a fish too large to be easily swallowed,

it shakes its head in a violent manner, as if to force its prey down

or drive it up again. In the latter case, it carries the fish to the

shore, and breaks it into pieces, which it then swallows.

This species has the subcutaneous cellular tissue highly developed,

especially along the breast, and the lower parts of the body, although

not by any means so much so as in the Brown Pelican. I have represented

a flock of these birds in the back ground, with the view of giving

you an idea of the swamps to which they usually resort. They are

on the edge of an alligator’s hole, at their avocations. The trees,

clad with dangling mosses, afford evidence of the insalubrity of the

atmosphere. You see the alligators with their heads and backs above

water, watching the motions of the birds.

LOUISIANA HERON.

_ARDEA LUDOVICIANA_, WILS.

PLATE CCXVII. MALE.

Delicate in form, beautiful in plumage, and graceful in its movements,

I never see this interesting Heron, without calling it the Lady of

the Waters. Watch its motions, as it leisurely walks over the pure

sand beaches of the coast of Florida, arrayed in the full beauty of

its spring plumage. Its pendent crest exhibits its glossy tints, its

train falls gracefully over a well defined tail, and the tempered

hues of its back and wings contrast with those of its lower parts.

Its measured steps are so light that they leave no impression on the

sand, and with its keen eye it views every object around with the most

perfect accuracy. See, it has spied a small fly lurking on a blade of

grass, it silently runs a few steps, and with the sharp point of its

bill it has already secured the prey. The minnow just escaped from

the pursuit of some larger fish has almost rushed upon the beach for

safety; but the quick eye of the Heron has observed its motions, and

in an instant it is swallowed alive. Among the herbage yet dripping

with dew the beautiful bird picks its steps. Not a snail can escape

its keen search, and as it moves around the muddy pool, it secures

each water lizard that occurs. Now the sun’s rays have dried up the

dews, the flowers begin to droop, the woodland choristers have ended

their morning concert, and like them, the Heron, fatigued with its

exertions, seeks a place of repose under the boughs of the nearest

bush, where it may in safety await the coolness of the evening. Then

for a short while it again searches for food. Little difficulty does

it experience in this; and at length, with the last glimpse of day, it

opens its wings, and flies off towards its well-known roosting-place,

where it spends the night contented and happy.

This species, which is a constant resident in the southern parts of

the peninsula of the Floridas, seldom rambles far from its haunts

during the winter season, being rarely seen at that period beyond

Savannah in Georgia to the eastward. To the west it extends to the

broad sedgy flats bordering the mouths of the Mississippi, along the

whole Gulf of Mexico, and perhaps much farther south. In the beginning

of spring, it is found abundantly in the Carolinas, and sometimes as

far east as Maryland, or up the Mississippi as high as Natchez. You

never find it far inland: perhaps forty miles would be a considerable

distance at any time of the year. It is at all seasons a social bird,

moving about in company with the Blue Heron or the White Egret. It

also frequently associates with the larger species, and breeds in the

same places, along with the White Heron, the Yellow-crowned Heron,

and the Night Heron; but more generally it resorts to particular spots

for this purpose, keeping by itself, and assembling in great numbers.

Those which visit the Carolinas, or the country of the Mississippi,

make their appearance there about the first of April, or when the

Egrets and other species of Heron seek the same parts, returning to

the Floridas or farther south about the middle of September, although

I have known some to remain there during mild winters. When this is

the case, all the other species may be met with in the same places,

as the Louisiana Heron is the most delicate in constitution of all.

Whilst at St Augustine in Florida, in the month of January, I found

this species extremely abundant there; but after a hard frost of a

few days, they all disappeared, leaving the other Herons, none of

which seemed to be affected by the cold, and returned again as soon

as the Fahrenheit thermometer rose to 80°. There they were in full

livery by the end of February, and near Charleston by the 5th of April.

Although timid, they are less shy than most other species, and more

easily procured. I have frequently seen one alight at the distance

of a few yards, and gaze on me as if endeavouring to discover my

intentions. This apparent insensibility to danger has given rise to

the appellation of _Egrette folle_, which is given to them in Lower

Louisiana.

The flight of this beautiful Heron is light, rather irregular, swifter

than that of any other species, and capable of being considerably

protracted. They usually move in long files, rather widely separated,

and in an undulating manner, with constant flappings. When proceeding

towards their roosts, or when on their migrations, they pass as high

over the country as other species; on the former occasion, they pass

and repass over the same tract, thus enabling the gunner easily to

shoot them, which he may especially calculate on doing at the approach

of night, when they are gorged with food, and fly lower than in the

morning. They may, however, be still more surely obtained on their

arriving at their roosting place, where they alight at once among

the lowest branches. On being shot at, they seldom fly to a great

distance, and their attachment to a particular place is such that

you are sure to find them there during the whole period of their stay

in the country, excepting the breeding time. At the cry of a wounded

one, they assail you in the manner of some Gulls and Terns, and may

be shot in great numbers by any person fond of such sport.

On the 29th of April, while wading around a beautiful key of the

Floridas, in search of certain crustaceous animals called the sea

Cray-fish, my party and I suddenly came upon one of the breeding

places of the Louisiana Heron. The southern exposures of this lovely

island were overgrown with low trees and bushes matted together by

thousands of smilaxes and other creeping plants, supported by various

species of cactus. Among the branches some hundred pairs of these

lovely birds had placed their nests, which were so low and so close

to each other, that without moving a step one could put his hand

into several. The birds thus taken by surprise rose affrighted into

the air, bitterly complaining of being disturbed in their secluded

retreat. The nests were formed of small dried sticks crossing each

other in various ways. They were flat, had little lining, and each

contained three eggs, all the birds being then incubating. Observing

that many eggs had been destroyed by the Crows and Buzzards, as the

shells were scattered on the ground, I concluded that many of the

Herons had laid more than once, to make up their full complement of

eggs; for my opinion is, that all our species, excepting the Green

Heron, never lay more nor less than three, unless an accident should

happen. The eggs of the Louisiana Heron measure one inch and six and

a half twelfths in length, an inch and a quarter in breadth; they

are nearly elliptical, of a beautiful pale blue colour inclining to

green, smooth, and with a very thin shell. The period of incubation

is twenty-one days. Like all other species of the genus, this raises

only one brood in the season. The little island of which I have spoken

lies exposed to the sea, and has an extent of only a few acres. The

trees or bushes with which it was covered seemed to have been stunted

by the effect produced by their having been for years the receptacles

of the Herons’ nests.

On the 19th May, in the same year, I found another breeding place of

this species not far from Key West. The young birds, which stood on

all the branches of the trees and bushes on the southern side of the

place, were about the size of our Little Partridge. Their notes, by

which we had been attracted to the spot, were extremely plaintive,

and resembled the syllables _wiee, wiee, wiee_. When we went up to

them, the old birds all flew to another key, as if intent on drawing

us there; but in vain, for we took with us a good number of their

young. It was surprising to see the little fellows moving about among

the branches, clinging to them in all sorts of curious positions, and

persevering in forcing their way toward the water, when over which they

at once dropped, and swam off from us with great vigour and speed.

When seized with the hand, they defended themselves to the utmost.

At this early period, they plainly shewed the sprouting feathers of

the crest. Many Crow Blackbirds had nests on the same mangroves, and

a Fish-Hawk also had formed its nest there at a height of not more

than five feet from the water. On the 24th of May, these Herons were

fully fledged, and able to fly to a short distance. In this state

we, with some difficulty, procured one alive. Its legs and feet were

green, the bill black, but its eyes, like those of an adult bird,

were of a beautiful red hue. Many were caught afterwards and taken

as passengers on board the Marion. They fed on any garbage thrown

to them by the sailors; but whenever another species came near them,

they leaped towards its bill, caught hold of it as if it had been a

fish, and hung to it until shaken off by their stronger associates.

On several occasions, however, the _Ardea occidentalis_ shook them

off violently, and after beating them on the deck, swallowed them

before they could be rescued!

The place farthest up on the Mississippi where I have found this

species breeding was on Buffalo Creek, about forty miles below Natchez,

and ten miles in a direct line from the great river. To the eastward

I have found them, breeding in company with the Green Heron and the

Night Heron, within a few miles of Charleston.

During summer and autumn, after the old birds have left their young,

both are frequently seen in the rice-fields, feeding along the ditches

by which the water is led to those places. At this season they are

uncommonly gentle and easily approached.

The Louisiana Heron acquires the full beauty of its plumage the second

year after its birth, although it continues for some time to increase

in size. The train and crest lengthen for several years until they

become as represented in the plate. To procure specimens in such

complete plumage, however, requires some care, for this state does

not last many days after pairing has taken place, and by the time

the young are hatched much of this fine plumage has dropped. When

autumn has come, only a few of the long barbs remain, and in winter

no appearance of them can be seen.

The flesh of the young birds affords tolerable eating. The food of

this species consists of small fry, water insects, worms, slugs, and

snails, as well as leeches, tadpoles, and aquatic lizards.

LOUISIANA HERON, ARDEA LUDOVICIANA, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith.

vol. viii. p. 13. pl. 64. fig. 1. adult.—_Nuttall_, Manual,

vol. ii. p. 51.

ARDEA LUDOVICIANA, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of

the United States, p. 305.

Adult Male. Plate CCXVII.

Bill much longer than the head, straight, compressed, tapering to a

point, the mandibles nearly equal. Upper mandible with the dorsal line

nearly straight, the ridge broad and slightly convex at the base,

narrowed towards the end, a groove from the base to two-thirds of

the length, beneath which the sides are convex, the edges thin and

sharp, with a notch on each side close to the sharp tip. Nostrils

basal, linear, longitudinal, with a membrane above and behind. Lower

mandible with the angle extremely narrow and elongated, the dorsal

line beyond it ascending and almost straight, the edges sharp and

slightly inflected, the tip acuminate.

Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck very long and slender.

Body slender and compressed; wings rather large. Feet very long;

tibia elongated, its lower half bare, very slender, covered all round

with angular scales, of which the posterior are scutelliform; tarsus

elongated, slender, compressed, covered anteriorly with numerous

scutella, laterally and behind with angular scales. Toes of moderate

length, rather slender, scutellate above, reticularly granulate

beneath; third toe much longer than second, which is very little

longer than fourth, the hind toe much shorter but strong; claws of

moderate size, rather strong, arched, compressed, rather acute, that

of the hind toe much larger, the edge of that of the third regularly

pectinated.

Space between the bill and eye, and around the latter, bare, as is

the lower half of the tibia. Plumage soft, generally loose. Feathers

of the upper and hind part of the head elongated, tapering, decurved,

about six of them larger and much longer; of the sides, and especially

of the lower part of the neck, also much elongated and narrow. The

feathers of the fore part of the back long and narrow-pointed, those

behind extremely elongated, with long loose threadlike barbs; the

rest of the back with short soft feathers. Wing of moderate length;

primaries tapering but rounded, the third longest, second very little

shorter, first and fourth about equal; secondaries broad and rounded,

some of the inner as long as the longest primaries, when the wing is

closed. Tail very short, small, slightly rounded, of twelve rather

weak feathers.

Bill brownish-black on the greater part of the upper mandible, and on

the sides of the lower mandible towards the point; the rest yellow,

as is the bare space before and around the eye. Iris bright red.

Feet light yellowish-green, the anterior scutella dusky, as are the

claws. The general colour of the upper parts is light purplish-blue;

the elongated feathers of the head and hind neck above of a fine

reddish-purple, as are those of the lower part of the neck; the six

longest feathers of the head white. The long loose feathers of the

back dull purplish-yellow, paler towards their extremities. Throat

white, its lower part chestnut; a line of white all the way down the

fore part of the neck; the longer feathers of the fore part of the

breast dusky blue on their inner webs. The breast, abdomen, tibiæ,

and under wing-coverts, white; the lower tail-coverts tipped with blue.

Length to end of the tail 27 inches, to end of wings 28, to end of

claws 34-1/2; extent of wings 37; loose feathers from 4 to 5 inches

beyond the tail; wing from flexure 10-3/4; tail 3-1/2; bill along the

back 4, along the edges 5; bare part of tibia 2-1/4; tarsus 4-1/8,

middle toe 2-1/2, its claws 1/2. Weight 1 lb.

The Adult Female is precisely similar to the male.

The Young, when newly hatched, are covered above with pale

purplish-grey down, which is of greater length on the head, as in

other species.

The young fully fledged have the neck and fore part of the back

light brownish-red, the throat and lower parts white, as is the

hind part of the back; the quills, larger wing-coverts and tail,

light purplish-blue. The feathers of the head, neck and back are not

yet elongated. The bill nearly as in the adult, but the legs deep

greenish-olive.

After the first moult, the feathers of the head, neck and back, are a

little elongated, and begin to be tinged with the colours which they

have when the bird is full grown. The red of the neck is changed for

tints of blue and purple, as is that of the back, although remnants

of it are still seen. The fore part of the neck is white, mixed with

brownish-red; the legs lighter.

THE FOOLISH GUILLEMOT.

_URIA TROILE_, LATH.

PLATE CCXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

This bird is seldom found farther south than the entrance of the Bay

of New York, where, however, it appears only during severe winters,

for being one of the most hardy inhabitants of the northern regions,

its constitution is such as to enable it to bear without injury

the rigours of their wintry climates. About the bays near Boston

the Guillemots are seen every year in greater or less numbers, and

from thence to the eastward they become gradually more abundant. A

very old gunner whom I employed while at Boston, during the winter

of 1832-3, assured me, that when he was a young man, this species

bred on many of the rocky islands about the mouth of the bay there;

but that for about twenty years back none remained after the first

days of April, when they departed for the north in company with the

Thick-billed Guillemot, the Common Auk, the Puffin, and the Eider and

King Ducks, all of which visit these bays in hard weather. In the

Bay of Fundy, the Foolish Guillemot is very numerous, and is known

by the name of _Murre_, which it retains among all the eggers and

fishermen of Newfoundland and Labrador, where it breeds in myriads.

To those countries, then, I must lead you, good Reader, as there we

can with ease study the habits of these birds.

Stay on the deck of the Ripley by my side this clear and cold morning.

See how swiftly scuds our gallant bark, as she cuts her way through

the foaming billows, now inclining to the right and again to the left.

Far in the east, dark banks of low clouds indicate foul weather to

the wary mariner, who watches the approach of a northern storm with

anxiety. Suddenly the wind changes; but for this he has prepared; the

topsails are snugged to their yards, and the rest are securely reefed.

A thick fog obscures all around us. The waters suddenly checked in

their former course, furiously war against those which now strike them

in front. The uproar increases, the bark is tossed on every side; now

a sweeping wave rushes against the bows, the vessel quivers, while

down along her deck violently pour the waters, rolling from side to

side, seeking for a place by which they may escape. At this moment all

about you are in dismay save the Guillemots. The sea is covered with

these intrepid navigators of the deep. Over each tumultuous billow

they swim unconcerned on the very spray at the bow of the vessel,

and plunging as if with pleasure, up they come next moment at the

rudder. Others fly around in large circles, while thousands contend

with the breeze, moving directly against it in long lines, towards

regions unknown to all, save themselves and some other species of

sea birds.

The Guillemots pair during their migrations;—many of them at least

do so. While on my way toward Labrador, they were constantly within

sight, gambolling over the surface of the water, the males courting

the females, and the latter receiving the caresses of their mates.

These would at times rise erect in the sea, swell their throats,

and emit a hoarse puffing guttural note, to which the females at

once responded, with numerous noddings to their beaux. Then the pair

would rise, take a round in the air, re-alight, and seal the conjugal

compact; after which they flew or swam together for the season, and

so closely, that among multitudes on the wing or on the waves, one

might easily distinguish a mated pair.

Not far from Great Macatina Harbour lie the Murre Rocks, consisting

of several low islands, destitute of vegetation, and not rising high

from the waters. There thousands of Guillemots annually assemble in

the beginning of May, to deposit each its single egg, and raise its

young. As you approach these islands, the air becomes darkened with

the multitudes of birds that fly about; every square foot of the

ground seems to be occupied by a Guillemot planted erect as it were

on the granite rock, but carefully warming its cherished egg. All

look toward the south, and if you are fronting them, the snowy white

of their bodies produces a very remarkable effect, for the birds at

some distance look as if they were destitute of head, so much does

that part assimilate with the dark hue of the rocks on which they

stand. On the other hand, if you approach them in the rear, the isle

appears as if covered with a black pall.

Now land, and witness the consternation of the settlers! Each

affrighted leaves its egg, hastily runs a few steps, and launches

into the air in silence. Thrice around you they rapidly pass, to

discover the object of your unwelcome visit. If you begin to gather

their eggs, or, still worse, to break them, in order that they may

lay others which you can pick up fresh, the Guillemots all alight at

some distance, on the bosom of the deep, and anxiously await your

departure. Eggs, green and white, and almost of every colour, are

lying thick over the whole rock; the ordure of the birds mingled with

feathers, with the refuse of half-hatched eggs partially sucked by

rapacious Gulls, and with putrid or dried carcasses of Guillemots,

produces an intolerable stench; and no sooner are all your baskets

filled with eggs, than you are glad to abandon the isle to its proper

owners.

On one occasion, whilst at anchor at Great Macatina, one of our boats

was sent for eggs. The sailors had eight miles to pull before reaching

the Murre Islands, and yet ere many hours had elapsed, the boat was

again alongside, loaded to a few inches of the gunwale, with 2500

eggs! Many of them, however, being addle, were thrown overboard. The

order given to the tars had been to bring only a few dozens; but, as

they said, they had forgotten!

The eggs are unaccountably large for the size of the bird, their

average length being three inches and three-eighths, and their

greatest breadth two inches. They are pyriform or elongated, with a

slight compression towards the smaller end, which again rather swells

and is rounded at the extremity. They afford excellent food, being

highly nutritive and palatable, whether boiled, roasted, poached, or

in omelets. The shell is rough to the touch, although not granulated.

Some are of a lively verdigris colour, others of different tints, but

all curiously splashed, as it were, with streaks or blotches of dark

umber and brown. My opinion, however, is, that, when first dropped,

they are always pure white, for on opening a good number of these

birds, I found several containing an egg ready for being laid, and

of a pure white colour. The shell is so firm that it does not easily

break, and I have seen a quantity of these eggs very carelessly removed

from a basket into a boat without being damaged. They are collected

in astonishing quantities by “the eggers,” to whom I have already

given a character, and sent to distant markets, where they are sold

at from one to three cents each.

Although the Guillemots are continually harassed, their eggs being

carried off as soon as they are deposited, and as long as the birds

can produce them, yet they return to the same islands year after year,

and, notwithstanding all the efforts of their enemies, multiply their

numbers.

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