and went to the woods. I was not long in finding him very sensible
to the spur, and as I observed that he moved with great ease both to
himself and his rider, I thought of leaping over a log several feet in
diameter, to judge how far he might prove serviceable in deer-driving
or bear-hunting. So I gave him the reins, and pressed my legs to his
belly without using the spur, on which, as if aware that I wished
to try his mettle, he bounded off and cleared the log as lightly as
an elk. I turned him, and made him leap the same log several times,
which he did with equal ease, so that I was satisfied of his ability
to clear any impediment in the woods. I next determined to try his
strength, for which purpose I took him to a swamp, which I knew was
muddy and tough. He entered it with his nose close to the water, as if
to judge of its depth, at which I was well pleased, as he thus evinced
due caution. I then rode through the swamp in different directions,
and found him prompt, decided, and unflinching. Can he swim well?
thought I;—for there are horses, which, although excellent, cannot
swim at all, but will now and then lie on their side, as if contented
to float with the current, when the rider must either swim and drag
them to the shore, or abandon them. To the Ohio then I went, and rode
into the water. He made off obliquely against the current, his head
well raised above the surface, his nostrils expanded, his breathing
free, and without any of the grunting noise emitted by many horses on
such occasions. I turned him down the stream, then directly against
it, and finding him quite to my mind, I returned to the shore, on
reaching which he stopped of his own accord, spread his legs, and
almost shook me off my seat. After this I put him to a gallop, and
returning home through the woods, shot from the saddle a turkey-cock,
which he afterwards approached as if he had been trained to the sport,
and enabled me to take it up without dismounting.
As soon as I reached the house of Dr RANKIN, where I then resided,
I sent word to the owner of the horse that I should be glad to see
him. When he came, I asked him what price he would take; he said,
fifty dollars in silver was the lowest. So I paid the money, took a
bill of sale, and became master of the horse. The Doctor, who was an
excellent judge, said smiling to me, “Mr AUDUBON, when you are tired
of him, I will refund you the fifty dollars, for depend upon it he is
a capital horse.” The mane was trimmed, but the tail left untouched;
the Doctor had him shod “all round,” and for several weeks he was
ridden by my wife, who was highly pleased with him.
Business requiring that I should go to Philadelphia, Barro (he was
so named after his former owner) was put up for ten days and well
attended to. The time of my departure having arrived, I mounted him;
and set off at the rate of four miles an hour;—but here I must give
you the line of my journey, that you may, if you please, follow my
course on some such map as that of TANNER’s. From Henderson through
Russellville, Nashville, and Knoxville, Abington in Virginia, the
Natural Bridge, Harrisonburgh, Winchester and Harper’s Ferry, Frederick
and Lancaster to Philadelphia. There I remained four days, after which
I returned by way of Pittsburgh, Wheeling, Zanesville, Chillicothe,
Lexington, and Louisville to Henderson. But the nature of my business
was such as to make me deviate considerably from the main roads, and
I computed the whole distance at nearly two thousand miles, the post
roads being rather more than sixteen hundred. I travelled not less
than forty miles a-day, and it was allowed by the Doctor that my
horse was in as good condition on my return as when I set out. Such
a journey on a single horse may seem somewhat marvellous in the eyes
of a European; but in those days almost every merchant had to perform
the like, some from all parts of the western country, even from St
Louis on the Missouri, although the travellers not unfrequently,
on their return, sold their horses at Baltimore, Philadelphia, or
Pittsburgh, at which latter place they took boat. My wife rode on a
single horse from Henderson to Philadelphia, travelling at the same
rate. The country was then comparatively new; few coaches travelled,
and in fact the roads were scarcely fit for carriages. About twenty
days were considered necessary for performing a journey on horseback
from Louisville to Philadelphia, whereas now the same distance may be
travelled in six or seven days, or even sometimes less, this depending
on the height of the water in the Ohio.
It may be not uninteresting to you to know the treatment which the
horse received on those journeys. I rose every morning before day,
cleaned my horse, pressed his back with my hand, to see if it had
been galled, and placed on it a small blanket folded double, in such
a manner that when the latter was put on, half of the cloth was
turned over it. The surcingle, beneath which the saddle-bags were
placed, confined the blanket to the seat, and to the pad behind was
fastened the great coat or cloak, tightly rolled up. The bridle had
a snaffle bit; a breastplate was buckled in front to each skirt, to
render the seat secure during an ascent; but my horse required no
crupper, his shoulders being high and well-formed. On starting he
trotted off at the rate of four miles an hour, which he continued. I
usually travelled from fifteen to twenty miles before breakfast, and
after the first hour allowed my horse to drink as much as he would.
When I halted for breakfast, I generally stopped two hours, cleaned
the horse, and gave him as much corn blades as he could eat. I then
rode on until within half an hour of sunset, when I watered him well,
poured a bucket of cold water over his back, had his skin well rubbed,
his feet examined and cleaned. The rack was filled with blades, the
trough with corn, a good-sized pumpkin or some hens’ eggs, whenever
they could be procured, were thrown in, and if oats were to be had,
half a bushel of them was given in preference to corn, which is apt
to heat some horses. In the morning, the nearly empty trough and rack
afforded sufficient evidence of the state of his health.
I had not ridden him many days before he became so attached to me
that on coming to some limpid stream, in which I had a mind to bathe,
I could leave him at liberty to graze, and he would not drink if
told not to do so. He was ever sure-footed, and in such continual
good spirits, that now and then, when a turkey happened to rise from
a dusting place before me, the mere inclination of my body forward
was enough to bring him to a smart canter, which he would continue
until the bird left the road for the woods, when he never failed to
resume his usual trot. On my way homewards I met at the crossings of
the Juniata River a gentleman from New Orleans whose name is VINCENT
NOLTE. He was mounted on a superb horse, for which he had paid three
hundred dollars, and a servant on horseback led another as a change.
I was then an utter stranger to him, and as I approached and praised
his horse, he not very courteously observed that he wished I had as
good a one. Finding that he was going to Bedford to spend the night,
I asked him at what hour he would get there. “Just soon enough to have
some trouts ready for our supper, provided you will join when you get
there.” I almost imagined that Barro understood our conversation;
he pricked up his ears, and lengthened his pace, on which Mr NOLTE
caracolled his horse, and then put him to a quick trot, but all in
vain, for I reached the hotel nearly a quarter of an hour before him,
ordered the trouts, saw to the putting away of my good horse, and
stood at the door ready to welcome my companion. From that day VINCENT
NOLTE has been a friend to me. It was from him I received letters of
introduction to the RATHBONES of Liverpool, for which I shall ever
be grateful to him. We rode together as far as Shippingport, where
my worthy friend NICHOLAS BERTHOUD, Esq. resided, and on parting with
me he repeated what he had many times said before, that he never had
seen so serviceable a creature as Barro.
If I recollect rightly, I gave a short verbal account of this journey,
and of the good qualities of my horse, to my learned friend J. SKINNER,
Esq. of Baltimore, who I believe has noticed them in his excellent
Sporting Magazine. We agreed that the importation of horses of this
kind from the Western Prairies might improve our breeds generally;
and, judging from those which I have seen, I am inclined to think
that some of them may prove fit for the course. A few days after
reaching Henderson, I parted with Barro, not without regret, for a
hundred and twenty dollars.
THE NIGHT HERON.
_ARDEA NYCTICORAX_, LINN.
PLATE CCXXXVI. ADULT MALE AND YOUNG.
The Night Heron is a constant resident in the Southern States, where
it is found in abundance in the low swampy tracts near the coast, from
the mouth of Sabine River to the eastern boundaries of South Carolina.
On the whole of that vast extent of country, it may be procured at all
seasons. The adult birds keep farther south than the young, flocks
of the latter remaining in South Carolina during the whole winter,
and there the Night Herons are at that period more common than most
other species of the family. In that State it is named “the Indian
Pullet,” in Lower Louisiana the Creoles call it “_Gros-bec_,” the
inhabitants of East Florida know it under the name of “Indian Hen,”
and in our Eastern States its usual appellation is “Qua Bird.”
In the course of my winter rambles through East Florida, I met
with several of the large places of resort of Night Herons, and, in
particular, one remarkable for the vast number of birds congregated
there. It is about six miles below the plantation of my friend JOHN
BULLOW, Esq., on a bayou which opens into the Halifax River. There
several hundred pairs appeared to be already mated, although it was
only the month of January; many of the nests of former years were
still standing, and all appeared to live in peace and contentment.
My friend JOHN BACHMAN is acquainted with a place on Ashley River,
about four miles distant from Charleston, where, among the branches
of a cluster of live-oak trees, he has for the last fifteen years
found a flock of about fifty of these birds during the winter. They
were all young, not a single individual having been observed in the
adult plumage, which is the more remarkable, because it is usual for
young birds to retreat farther south during winter than the old. It
is very common at this period for the sportsmen near Charleston to
take their stand along the margins of the salt-water ponds, to which
the Herons generally resort about dusk; and they frequently obtain
several shots in an evening, but not a single old bird is known to
have been killed at this season.
The Night Heron seldom advances very far into the country, but remains
on the low swampy lands along the coast. It is rare to see one farther
up the Mississippi than the mouth of the Arkansas, to which a few
are at times induced to go while rambling along the great stream. I
never saw one, or heard of any, whilst in Kentucky, and I doubt much
if they are ever seen in the upper parts of the State of Tennessee.
The distance of a hundred miles from the tide-mark appears to be the
farthest extent of their inland movements. On the other hand, they
are fond of resorting to the islands along the coast, on many of
which they breed.
At the approach of spring, great numbers of those which have wintered
far south, leave their places of sojourn and migrate eastward, although
probably an equal number remain in the low lands of Louisiana and
the Floridas during the whole year. There, indeed, I have found them
with eggs in April and May, and as young birds just fledged were very
abundant at the same places, I concluded that these eggs were of the
second laying. By the middle of March, the number of Night Herons is
seen to increase daily in the Carolinas, and, about a month later,
some make their appearance in the Middle Districts, where many remain
and breed. They are not abundant in the State of New York, are seen
sparingly breeding in Massachusetts, while only a few proceed to Maine,
and farther eastward they are looked upon as a great curiosity. In
Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Labrador, this species is quite unknown.
Some European writers have alleged, that the Night Heron is scarce
in the United States, and of rare occurrence even in the southern
parts. I wish these people had been with me and my friend BACHMAN,
or with some of the many hundred persons who reside in the Southern
Districts, or have travelled from Louisiana to North Carolina. How
strange it would have appeared to such assertors of notions, to have
seen a boatload of Night Herons shot in the course of a few hours,
and that too in the winter season.
Excepting while breeding, this species is extremely shy and wary,
especially the adults. To approach them from a distance after they
have seen you, is no easy task. They seem to know the distance at
which your gun can injure them, they watch all your movements, and
at the proper moment leave their perches. Should you chance to crack
a stick while advancing towards them, they start at once, give a few
raps with their wings in the manner of the Common Pigeon, and fly
off as if delighted at your disappointment. On the contrary, you may
shoot them with ease, if you lie in wait near the places to which they
resort to roost by day, and at which they generally arrive singly,
or a few at a time, when, from your place of concealment among the
trees, you may kill them the moment they alight over your head,
and at a short distance. In this manner I have known forty or fifty
procured by two sportsmen in the course of about two hours. You may
also not unfrequently shoot them at any hour of the day, by starting
them from secluded feeding-grounds, and thus I have shot a good
many in different parts of the United States, and even in the Middle
Districts. They are, however, rarely shot whilst on the ground, their
hearing being still more acute than that of the American Bittern,
which prefers squatting in the grass to flying off, when any noise
is heard, whereas the Night Heron rises immediately.
This species breeds in communities around the stagnant ponds, either
near rice plantations or in the interior of retired and secluded
swamps, as well as on some of the sea islands covered with evergreen
trees. Their heronries are formed either in low bushes, or in
middle-sized or tall trees, as seems most convenient or secure. In
the Floridas, they are partial to the mangroves that overhang the
salt-water; in Louisiana, they prefer the cypresses; and in the Middle
States, they find the cedars most suitable. In some breeding-places
within a few miles of Charleston, which I visited in company with my
friend JOHN BACHMAN, the nests were placed on low bushes, and crowded
together, some within a yard of the ground, others raised seven or
eight feet above it, many being placed flat on the branches, while
others were in the forks. Hundreds of them might be seen at once, as
they were built on the side of the bushes fronting the water. Those
which I found in the Floridas were all placed on the south-west sides
of mangrove islands, but were farther apart from each other, some
being only about a foot above high-water mark, while others were in
the very tops of the trees, which, however, scarcely exceeded twenty
feet in height. In some inland swamps in Louisiana, I saw them placed
on the tops of tall cypress trees about a hundred feet high, and
along with those of _Ardea Herodias_, _A. alba_, and some Anhingas.
In the Jerseys I have found the Night Herons breeding on water oaks
and cedars; and my friend THOMAS NUTTALL informs me, that “in a very
secluded and marshy island, in Fresh Pond, near Boston, there likewise
exists one of these ancient heronries; and though the birds have been
frequently robbed of their eggs, in great numbers, by mischievous boys,
they still lay again immediately after, and usually succeed in raising
a second brood.” The same accurate observer remarks, that “about the
middle of October, the Qua Birds begin to retire from this part of
Massachusetts, towards their southern winter quarters, although a
few of the young birds still linger occasionally to the 29th or 30th
of that month.” This last observation is a farther evidence of the
reluctance which the young of this species feel to go as far south
during winter as the old birds.
The nest of the Night Heron is large, flattish, and formed of sticks
placed in different directions, sometimes to the height of three or
four inches. At times it is arranged with so little care, that the
young upset it before they are able to fly. Many of the nests are
annually repaired, and these birds, when they have once found an
agreeable settlement, return regularly to it, until some calamity
forces them to abandon it. The full number of the eggs is four, and
they measure at an average two inches and one-sixteenth by an inch
and a half. They are thin-shelled, and of a plain light sea-green
colour. In about three weeks after the young are hatched, most of
them leave the nest, and crawl about the branches, to which they
cling firmly, ascending to the tops of the bushes or trees, and there
awaiting the return of their parents with food. If you approach them
at such times, the greatest consternation ensues both among the young
and the old birds; the loud and incessant croaking which both have
until then kept up, suddenly ceases; the parent birds rise in the air,
sail around and above you, some alighting on the neighbouring trees;
while the young scramble off in all directions to avoid being taken.
So great at times is their terror, that they throw themselves into
the water, and swim off with considerable rapidity, until they reach
the shore, when they run and hide in every convenient place. Retire
for half an hour, and you will be sure to hear the old and the young
calling to each other; the noise gradually increases, and in a short
time is as loud as ever. The stench emitted by the excrements with
which the abandoned nests, the branches and leaves of the trees and
bushes, and the ground, are covered, the dead young, the rotten and
broken eggs, together with putrid fish and other matters, renders a
visit to these places far from pleasant. Crows, Hawks and Vultures
torment the birds by day, while Racoons and other animals destroy
them by night. The young are quite as good for eating as those of
the Common Pigeon, being tender, juicy, and fat, with very little of
the fishy taste of many birds which, like them, feed on fishes and
reptiles. At this period few if any of the old birds have the long
feathers of the hind head, and these are not reproduced before the
latter part of the following winter, when they seem to attain their
extreme length in a few weeks.
The flight of the Night Heron is steady, rather slow, and often
greatly protracted. They propel themselves by regular flappings of the
wings, and, like the true Herons, draw in their head on the shoulders,
while their legs stretch out behind, and with the tail form a kind
of rudder. When alarmed they at times rise high in the air, and sail
about for a while. They sail in the same manner before alighting on
their feeding grounds, which they rarely do without having previously
attended to their security by alighting on the neighbouring trees
and looking about them. Their migrations are performed under night,
when their passage is indicated by their loud hoarse notes resembling
the syllable _qua_, uttered at pretty regular intervals. On these
occasions they appear to fly faster than usual.
On the ground, this bird exhibits none of the grace observed in all the
true Herons; it walks in a stooping posture, the neck much retracted,
until it sees its prey, when, with a sudden movement, it stretches
it out and secures its food. It is never seen standing motionless,
waiting for its prey, like the true Herons, but is constantly moving
about in search of it. Its feeding places are the sides of ditches,
meadows, the shady banks of creeks, bayous, and ponds or rivers, as
well as the extensive salt-marshes and mud-bars left exposed at low
water; and I have observed it to alight in the ponds in the suburbs of
Charleston towards evening, and feed there. In all such situations,
excepting the last, this bird may often be seen by day, but more
especially in the evening or morning twilight, wading up to its
ankles, or, as we commonly say, its knee-joints. Its food consists
of fishes, shrimps, tadpoles, frogs, water-lizards, and leeches,
small crustacea of all kinds, water insects, moths, and even mice,
which seem not less welcome to it than its more ordinary articles of
food. When satisfied, it retires to some high tree on the banks of a
stream or in the interior of a swamp, and there it stands, usually
on one leg, for hours at a time, apparently dosing, though seldom
sound asleep.
When wounded, this bird first tries to make its escape by hiding among
the grass or bushes, squatting the moment it finds what it deems a
secure place; but if no chance of a safe retreat occurs, it raises
its crest, ruffles its feathers, and, opening its bill, prepares to
defend itself. It can bite pretty severely, but the injury inflicted
by its bill is not to be compared with that produced by its claws,
which on such occasions it uses with much effect. If you seize it, it
utters a loud, rough, continued sound, and tries to make its escape
whenever it perceives the least chance.
The Night Heron undergoes three annual changes of plumage ere it
attains its perfect state, although many individuals breed in the
spring of the third year. After the first autumnal moult, the young
is as you see it represented in the plate. In the second autumn, the
markings of the neck and other parts have almost entirely disappeared;
the upper parts of the head have become of a dull blackish-green,
mixing near the upper mandible with the dull brown of the first
season, while the rest of the plumage has assumed a uniform dull
ochreous greyish-brown. In the course of the following season, the
bird exhibits the green of the shoulders and back, the head is equally
richly coloured, and the frontal band between the upper mandible and
the eye, and over the latter, is pure white. At this age it rarely
has the slender white feathers of the hind head longer than an inch
or two. The sides of the neck, and all the lower parts, have become
of a purer greyish-white. The wings are now spotless in all their
parts, and of a light brownish-grey, as is the tail. The following
spring, the plumage is complete, and the bird is as represented in
the plate. After this period, with the exception of losing its long
crest-feathers after the young are hatched, it retains its colouring.
No difference can be observed in the tints of the sexes, but the male
is somewhat larger.
A very considerable difference in size is observable at all seasons in
birds of this species. Some that are fully feathered, and therefore at
least three years old, measure as much as four inches less than others
of the same sex, and weigh less in proportion. These circumstances
might suffice with some naturalists to attempt to form two species
out of one, but in this they would certainly fail.
In the neighbourhood of New Orleans, and along the Mississippi, as far
up as Natchez, the shooting of this species is a favourite occupation
with the planters, who represent it as equalling any other bird in
the delicacy of its flesh.
The frog, of which I have introduced a figure, is common in the retired
swamps which the Night Heron frequents, and is often devoured by it.
The flowering plants which you see, are abundant in the States of
Georgia and South Carolina, as well as in the Floridas.
ARDEA NYCTICORAX, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol.i. p. 235.—_Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol.ii. p. 678.—_Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of
Birds of the United States, p. 306.
NIGHT HERON, OR QUA BIRD, _Wils._ Amer. Ornith. vol. vii.
p. 3, pl. 51, fig. 2. Adult. FIG. 3. Young.
QUA BIRD, OR AMERICAN NIGHT HERON, ARDEA DISCORS, _Nuttall_,
Manual, vol. ii. p. 54.
Adult Male in Spring. Plate CCXXXVI. Fig. 1.
Bill a little longer than the head, strong, straight, compressed,
tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal line slightly arched and
declinate, the ridge broad and rather rounded at the base, narrowed
towards the end, the sides sloping, the edges very sharp and inflected,
obscurely serrated with minute oblique slits, and having a distinct
notch close to the compressed, rather obtuse tip. Nasal groove wide at
the base, extending narrow to near the tip; nostrils basal, linear,
wider behind, longitudinal. Lower mandible with the angle very long
and narrow, the dorsal line straight and sloping upwards, the sides
flat, the sharp obscurely jagged edges slightly inflected, the tip
very acute.
Head oblong, much compressed; eyes large. Neck long. Body rather
slender, compressed. Feet rather long, robust; tibia bare at its
lower part; tarsus covered anteriorly along its upper two-thirds with
scutella, below and on the sides with large angular scales; toes long
and rather slender, scutellate above, flat beneath, marginate; hind
toe stout, fourth a little longer than second, third much longer;
claws of moderate size, stout, arched, compressed, rather acute, that
of middle toe beautifully pectinate on the inner edge.