See how they leap from the water to bend the loaded tops of the tall
reeds. Woe be to the slug or snail that comes in their way. Some are
probing the mud beneath, and waging war against the leech, frog, or
lizard, that is within reach of their bills; while many of the older
birds run into the woods, to fill their crops with beech-nuts and
acorns, not disdaining to swallow also, should they come in their
way, some of the wood-mice that, frightened by the approach of the
foragers, hie towards their burrows. The cackling they keep up would
almost deafen you, were you near them; but it is suddenly stopped by
the approach of some unusual enemy, and at once all are silent. With
heads erected on out-stretched necks, they anxiously look around. It
is nothing, however, but a bear, who being, like themselves, fond
of mast, is ploughing up the newly fallen leaves with his muzzle,
or removing an old rotting log in search of worms. The ducks resume
their employment. But another sound is now heard, one more alarming.
The bear raises himself on his hind legs, snuffs the air, and with
a loud snort gallops off towards the depths of his cane-brake. The
ducks retreat to the water, betake themselves to the centre of the
pool, and uttering half-stifled notes await the sight of the object
they dread. There the enemy cunningly advances first covered by one
tree, then by another. He has lost his chance of the bear, but as he
is pushed by hunger, a Mallard will do for the bullet of his rusty
rifle. It is an Indian, as you perceive by his red skin and flowing
black hair, which, however, has been cut close from the sides of
his head. In the centre of his dearly purchased blanket, a hole has
been cut, through which he has thrust his bare head, and the ragged
garment, like a horse’s netting, is engaged as it were in flapping
off the last hungry musquitoes of the season that are fast sucking the
blood from his limbs. Watch him, Mallard, Nay, wait no longer, for I
see him taking aim; better for you all to fly! No—well, one of you
will certainly furnish him with a repast. Amid the dark wood rises
the curling smoke, the report comes on my ear, the ducks all rise
save a pair, that, with back downwards and feet kicking against the
air, have been hit by the prowler. The free son of the forest slowly
approaches the pool, judges at a glance of the depth of the mire, and
boldly advances, until with a cane he draws the game towards him.
Returning to the wood, he now kindles a little fire, the feathers
fill the air around; from each wing he takes a quill, to clean the
touch-hole of his gun in damp weather; the entrails he saves to bait
some trap. In a short time the ducks are ready, and the hunter enjoys
his meal, although brief time does he take in swallowing the savoury
morsels. Soon, the glimmering light of the moon will see him again
on his feet, and lead him through the woods, as he goes in pursuit
of other game.
The Mallards that remain with us during the whole year, and breed on
the banks of the Mississippi or Lake Michigan, or in the beautiful
meadows that here and there border the Schuylkil in Pennsylvania,
begin to pair in the very heart of winter; and although ducks are
quite destitute of song, their courtships are not devoid of interest.
The males, like other gay deceivers, offer their regards to the first
fair one that attracts their notice, promise unremitting fidelity
and affection, and repeat their offers to the next they meet. See
that drake, how he proudly shews, first the beauty of his silky head,
then the brilliancy of his wing-spots, and, with honeyed jabberings,
discloses the warmth of his affection. He plays around this one,
then around another, until the passion of jealousy is aroused in the
breasts of the admired and flattered. Bickerings arise; the younger
duck disdains her elder sister, and a third, who conceives herself a
coquette of the first order, interposes, as if to ensure the caresses
of the feathered beau. Many tricks are played by ducks, good Reader,
but ere long, the females retire in search of a safe place in which
they may deposit their eggs and rear their young. They draw a quantity
of weed around them, and form an ill-arranged sort of nest, in which
from seven to ten eggs are laid. From their bodies they pluck the
softest down, and placing it beneath the eggs, begin the long process
of incubation, which they intermit only for short periods, when it
becomes absolutely necessary to procure a little sustenance.
At length, in about three weeks, the young began to cheep in the shell,
from which, after a violent struggle, they make their escape. What
beautiful creatures! See how, with their little bills, they dry their
downy apparel! Now in a long line, one after another, they follow
their glad mother to the water, on arriving at which they take to
swimming and diving, as if elated with joy for having been introduced
into existence. The male, wearied and emaciated, is far away on some
other pond. The unnatural barbarian cares nothing about his progeny,
nor has a thought arisen in his mind respecting the lonely condition
of his mate, the greatness of her cares, or the sadness that she
may experience under the idea that she has been utterly forsaken by
him who once called her his only and truly beloved. No, Reader, not
a thought of this kind has he wasted on her whom he has left alone
in charge of a set of eggs, and now of a whole flock of innocent
ducklings, to secure which from danger, and see them all grow up
apace, she manifests the greatest care and anxiety. She leads them
along the shallow edges of grassy ponds, and teaches them to seize
the small insects that abound there, the flies, the musquitoes, the
giddy beetles that skim along the surface in circles and serpentine
lines. At the sight of danger they run as it were on the water, make
directly for the shore, or dive and disappear. In about six weeks,
those that have escaped from the ravenous fishes and turtles have
attained a goodly size; the quills appear on their wings; their bodies
are encased with feathers; but as yet none are able to fly. They now
procure their food by partial immersions of the head and neck in the
manner of the old bird. At this period they are already fit for the
table, and delicate as well as savoury food they afford. By the time
that the leaves are changing their hues, the young Mallards take
freely to their wings, and the old males join the congregated flocks.
The Squatters of the Mississippi raise a considerable number of
Mallards, which they catch when quite young, and which, after the first
year, are as tame as they can wish. These birds raise broods which
are superior even to those of the wild ones, for a year or two, after
which they become similar to the ordinary ducks of the poultry-yard.
The hybrids produced between the Mallard and the Muscovy Duck are of
great size, and afford excellent eating. Some of these half-breeds
now and then wander off, become quite wild, and have by some persons
been considered as forming a distinct species. They also breed, when
tame, with the Black Duck (_Anas fusca_) and the Gadwal, the latter
connection giving rise to a very handsome hybrid, retaining the yellow
feet and barred plumage of the one, and the green head of the other
parent.
I have found the Mallard breeding on large prostrate and rotten logs,
three feet above the ground, and in the centre of a cane-brake, nearly
a mile distant from any water. Once I found a female leading her young
through the woods, and no doubt conducting them towards the Ohio. When
I first saw her, she had already observed me, and had squatted flat
among the grass, with her brood around her. As I moved onwards, she
ruffled her feathers, and hissed at me in the manner of a goose, while
the little ones scampered off in all directions. I had an excellent
dog, well instructed to catch young birds without injuring them, and
I ordered him to seek for them. On this the mother took to wing, and
flew through the woods as if about to fall down at every yard or so.
She passed and repassed over the dog, as if watching the success of
his search; and as one after another the ducklings were brought to
me, and struggled in my bird-bag, the distressed parent came to the
ground near me, rolled and tumbled about, and so affected me by her
despair, that I ordered my dog to lie down, while, with a pleasure that
can be felt only by those who are parents themselves, I restored to
her the innocent brood, and walked off. As I turned round to observe
her, I really thought I could perceive gratitude expressed in her
eye; and a happier moment I never felt while rambling in search of
knowledge through the woods.
In unfrequented parts, the Mallards feed both by day and by night;
but in places where they are much disturbed by gunners, they feed
mostly by night, or towards evening and about sunrise. In extremely
cold weather, they betake themselves to the sources of streams, and
even to small springs, where they may be found along with the American
Snipe. At times, after heavy falls of rain, they are seen searching
for ground-worms over the corn-fields, and during the latter part of
autumn, the rice plantations of Georgia and the Carolinas afford them
excellent pasture grounds. I have thought indeed that at this season
these birds perform a second migration as it were, for they then pour
into the rice-fields by thousands from the interior. In the Floridas,
they are at times seen in such multitudes as to darken the air, and
the noise they make in rising from off a large submersed savannah, is
like the rumbling of thunder. So numerous were the Mallards while I
was at General HERNANDEZ’s in East Florida, that a single Negro whom
that gentleman kept as a hunter, would shoot from fifty to a hundred
and twenty in a day, thus supplying the plantation with excellent food.
The flight of the Mallard is swift, strong, and well sustained. It
rises either from the ground or from the water at a single spring,
and flies almost perpendicularly for ten or fifteen yards, or, if
in a thick wood, until quite above the tops of the tallest trees,
after which it moves horizontally. If alarmed, it never rises without
uttering several _quacks_; but on other occasions it usually leaves
its place in silence. While travelling to any distance; the whistling
sound of their wings may be heard a great way off, more especially
in the quiet of night. Their progress through the air I have thought
might be estimated at a mile and a half in the minute; and I feel
very confident that when at full speed and on a long journey, they
can fly at the rate of a hundred and twenty miles in the hour.
The Mallard is truly omnivorous, its food consisting of every thing
that can possibly satisfy the cravings of its extraordinary appetite.
Nor is it at all cleanly in this respect, for it will swallow any
kind of offals, and feed on all sorts of garbage, even putrid fish,
as well as on snakes and small quadrupeds. Nuts and fruits of all
kinds are dainties to it, and it soon fattens on rice, corn, or any
other grain. My friend JOHN BACHMAN, who usually raises a great number
of Mallards every year, has the young fed on chopped fish, on which
they thrive uncommonly well. So very greedy are these birds, that I
have often observed a couple of them tugging for a long time against
each other for the skin of an eel, which was already half swallowed
by the one, while the other was engaged at the opposite end. They
are expert fly-catchers, and are in the habit of patting with their
feet the damp earth, to force ground-worms out of their burrows.
Besides man, the enemies of the Mallard are the White-headed Eagle,
the Snowy Owl, the Virginian Owl, the racoon, the lynx, and the
snapping turtle. Mallards are easily caught by snares, steel-traps
baited with corn, and figure-of-four traps. As we have no decoys in
the United States, I shall not trouble you with a new edition of the
many accounts you will find in ornithological books of that destructive
method of procuring Wild Ducks.
The eggs of this species measure two inches and a quarter in length,
one inch and five-eighths in breadth. The shell is smooth, and of a
plain light dingy green. They are smaller than those of the tame duck,
and rarely so numerous. As soon as incubation commences, the males
associate together in flocks, until the young are able to migrate.
This species raises only one brood in the season, and I never found
its nest with eggs in autumn. The female covers her eggs before she
leaves them to go in search of food, and thus keeps them sufficiently
warm until her return.
ANAS BOSCHAS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 205.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 850.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synopsis of
Birds of the United States, p. 383.
MALLARD, ANAS BOSCHAS, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. viii. p.
112. pl. 70. fig. 7.—_Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 378.
Adult Male. Plate CCXXI. Fig. 1. 1.
Bill about the length of the head, higher than broad at the base,
depressed and widened towards the end, rounded at the tip. Upper
mandible with the dorsal line sloping and a little concave, the ridge
at the base broad and flat, towards the end broadly convex, as are
the sides, the edges soft and rather obtuse, the marginal lamellæ
transverse, fifty on each side; the unguis oval, curved, abrupt at the
end. Nasal groove elliptical, subbasal, filled by the soft membrane
of the bill; nostrils subbasal, placed near the ridge, longitudinal,
elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible slightly curved upwards, with
the angle very long, narrow, and rather pointed, the lamellæ about
sixty.
Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed; neck rather long and
slender; body full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed a little
behind the centre of the body; legs bare a little above the joint;
tarsus short, a little compressed, anteriorly with small scutella,
laterally and behind with reticulated angular scales. Hind toe
extremely small, with a very narrow membrane; third toe longest,
fourth a little shorter, but longer than second; all the toes covered
above with numerous oblique scutella; the three anterior connected by
reticulated membranes, the outer with a thick margin, the inner with
the margin extended into a slightly lobed web. Claws small, arched,
compressed, rather acute, that of the middle toe much larger, with
a dilated, thin, inner edge.
Plumage dense, soft, and elastic; of the head and neck short, blended,
and splendent; of the other parts in general broad and rounded. Wings
of moderate length, acute; primaries narrow and tapering, the second
longest, the first very little shorter; secondaries broad, curved
inwards, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail short, much rounded,
of sixteen acute feathers, of which the four central are recurved.
Bill greenish-yellow. Iris dark brown. Feet orange-red. Head and
upper part of neck deep green, a ring of white about the middle of
the neck; lower part of the neck anteriorly, and fore part of breast,
dark brownish-chestnut; fore part of back light yellowish-brown,
tinged with grey; the rest of the back brownish-black, the rump
black, splendent with green and purplish-blue reflections, as are
the recurved tail-feathers. Upper surface of wings greyish-brown,
the scapulars lighter except their inner webs, and with the anterior
dorsal feathers minutely undulated with brown. The speculum on about
ten of the secondaries is of brilliant changing purple and green,
edged with velvet-black and white, the anterior bands of black and
white being on the secondary coverts. Breast, sides, and abdomen,
very pale grey, minutely undulated with darker; lower tail-coverts
black with blue reflections.
Length to the end of the tail 24 inches, to the end of the claws 23,
to the tips of the wings 22; extent of wings 36; wing from flexure
10-1/2; tail 4-1/4; bill 2-2/12; tarsus 1-3/4; middle toe 2-2/12,
its claw 5/12. Weight from 2-1/2 to 3 lb.
Adult Female. Plate CCXXI. Figs. 2. 2.
Bill black in the middle, dull orange at the extremities and along
the edges. Iris as in the male, as are the feet. The general colour
of the upper parts is pale yellowish-brown, streaked and spotted with
dusky brown. The feathers of the head narrowly streaked, of the back
with the margin and a central streak yellowish-brown, the rest dark,
of the scapulars similar, but with the light streak on the outer web.
The wings are nearly as in the male, the speculum similar, but with
less green. The lower parts dull ochre, deeper on the lower neck,
and spotted with brown.
Length 22 inches. Weight from 2 lb. to 2-1/2.
The Young acquire the full plumage in the course of the first winter.
THE WHITE IBIS.
_IBIS ALBA_, VIEILL.
PLATE CCXXII. ADULT MALE, AND YOUNG.
Sandy Island, of which I have already spoken in my second volume,
is remarkable as a breeding-place for various species of water and
land birds. It is about a mile in length, not more than a hundred
yards broad, and in form resembles a horse-shoe, the inner curve of
which looks toward Cape Sable in Florida, from which it is six miles
distant. At low water, it is surrounded to a great distance by mud
flats abounding in food for wading and swimming birds, while the
plants, the fruits, and the insects of the island itself, supply many
species that are peculiar to the land. Besides the White Ibis, we
found breeding there the Brown Pelican, the Purple, the Louisiana, the
White, and the Green Herons, two species of Gallinule, the Cardinal
Grosbeak, Crows, and Pigeons. The vegetation consists of a few tall
mangroves, thousands of wild plum trees, several species of cactus,
some of them nearly as thick as a man’s body, and more than twenty
feet high, different sorts of smilax, grape-vines, cane, palmettoes,
Spanish bayonets, and the rankest nettles I ever saw,—all so tangled
together, that I leave you to guess how difficult it was for my
companions and myself to force a passage through them in search of
birds’ nests, which, however, we effected, although the heat was
excessive, and the stench produced by the dead birds, putrid eggs,
and the natural effluvia of the Ibises, was scarcely sufferable. But
then, the White Ibis was there, and in thousands; and, although I
already knew the bird, I wished to study its manners once more, that I
might be enabled to present you with an account of them, which I now
proceed to do,—endeavouring all the while to forget the pain of the
numerous scratches and lacerations of my legs caused by the cactuses
of Sandy Island.
As we entered that well-known place, we saw nests on every bush,
cactus, or tree. Whether the number was one thousand or ten I
cannot say, but this I well know:—I counted forty-seven on a single
plum-tree. These nests of the White Ibis measure about fifteen inches
in their greatest diameter, and are formed of dry twigs intermixed
with fibrous roots and green branches of the trees growing on the
island, which this bird easily breaks with its bill; the interior,
which is flat, being finished with leaves of the cane and some other
plants. The bird breeds only once in the year, and the full number of
its eggs is three. They measure two inches and a quarter in length,
with a diameter of one inch and five-eighths, are rough to the touch,
although not granulated, of a dull white colour, blotched with pale
yellow, and irregularly spotted with deep reddish-brown. They afford
excellent eating, although when boiled they do not look inviting,
the white resembling a livid-coloured jelly, and the yolk being of a
reddish-orange, the former wonderfully transparent, instead of being
opaque like that of most other birds. The eggs are deposited from
the 10th of April to the 1st of May, and incubation is general by the
10th of the latter month. The young birds, which are at first covered
with thick down of a dark grey colour, are fed by regurgitation.
They take about five weeks to be able to fly, although they leave the
nest at the end of three weeks, and stand on the branches, or on the
ground, waiting the arrival of their parents with food, which consists
principally of small fiddler crabs and crayfish. On some occasions, I
have found them at this age miles away from the breeding-places, and
in this state they are easily caught. As soon as the young are able to
provide for themselves, the old birds leave them, and the different
individuals are then seen searching for food apart. While nestling
or in the act of incubating, these Ibises are extremely gentle and
unwary, unless they may have been much disturbed, for they almost
allow you to touch them on the nest. The females are silent all the
while, but the males evince their displeasure by uttering sounds
which greatly resemble those of the White-headed Pigeon, and which
may be imitated by the syllables _crooh, croo, croo_. The report of
a gun scarcely alarms them at first, although at all other periods
these birds are shy and vigilant in the highest degree.
The change in the colouring of the bill, legs, and feet of this bird,
that takes place in the breeding-season, is worthy of remark, the
bill being then of a deep orange red, and the legs and feet of a red
nearly amounting to carmine. The males at this season have the gular
pouch of a rich orange colour, and somewhat resembling in shape that
of the Frigate Pelican, although proportionally less. During winter,
these parts are of a dull flesh colour. The irides also lose much of
their clear blue, and resume in some degree the umber colour of the
young birds. I am thus particular in these matters, because it is
doubtful if any one else has ever paid attention to them.
While breeding, the White Ibises go to a great distance in search
of food for their young, flying in flocks of several hundreds. Their
excursions take place at particular periods, determined by the decline
of the tides, when all the birds that are not sitting go off, perhaps
twenty or thirty miles, to the great mud flats, where they collect
abundance of food, with which they return the moment the tide begins
to flow. As the birds of this genus feed by night as well as by day,
the White Ibis attends the tides at whatever hour they may be. Some of
those which bred on Sandy Key would go to the keys next the Atlantic,
more than forty miles distant, while others made for the Ever Glades;
but they never went off singly. They rose with common accord from the
breeding-ground, forming themselves into long lines, often a mile in
extent, and soon disappeared from view. Soon after the turn of the
tide we saw them approaching in the same order. Not a note could you
have heard on those occasions; yet if you disturb them when far from
their nests, they utter loud hoarse cries resembling the syllables
_hunk, hunk, hunk_, either while on the ground or as they fly off.
The flight of the White Ibis is rapid and protracted. Like all
other species of the genus, these birds pass through the air with
alternate flappings and sailings; and I have thought that the use
of either mode depended upon the leader of the flock, for, with the
most perfect regularity, each individual follows the motion of that
preceding it, so that a constant appearance of regular undulations
is produced through the whole line. If one is shot at this time, the
whole line is immediately broken up, and for a few minutes all is
disorder; but as they continue their course, they soon resume their
former arrangement. The wounded bird never attempts to bite or to
defend itself in any manner, although, if only winged, it runs off
with more speed than is pleasant to its pursuer.
At other times the White Ibis, like the Red and the Wood Ibises,
rises to an immense height in the air, where it performs beautiful
evolutions. After they have thus, as it were, amused themselves for
some time, they glide down with astonishing speed, and alight either
on trees or on the ground. Should the sun be shining, they appear in
their full beauty, and the glossy black tips of their wings form a
fine contrast with the yellowish-white of the rest of their plumage.
This species is as fond of resorting to the ponds, bayous, or lakes
that are met with in the woods, as the Wood Ibis itself. I have found
it breeding there at a distance of more than three hundred miles from
the sea, and remaining in the midst of the thickest forests until
driven off to warmer latitudes by the approach of winter. This is the
case in the State of Mississippi, not far from Natchez, and in all
the swampy forests around Bayou Sara and Pointe Coupée, as well as
the interior of the Floridas. When disturbed in such places, these
Ibises fly at once to the tops of the tallest trees, emitting their
hoarse _hunk_, and watch your motions with so much care that it is
extremely difficult to get within shot of them.