impetuosity to the very end of the line, when, being suddenly checked,
it often rises perpendicularly several feet out of the water, shakes
itself violently in the air, gets disentangled, and thus escapes. But
when well secured, it is held in play for a while by the experienced
fisher, soon becomes exhausted, and is hauled on board. Some persons
prefer pulling them in at once, but they seldom succeed, as the force
with which the fish shakes itself on being raised out of the water,
is generally sufficient to enable it to extricate itself. Dolphins
move in shoals, varying from four or five to twenty or more, hunting
in packs in the waters, as wolves pursue their prey on land. The
object of their pursuit is generally the Flying-fish, now and then
the Bonita; and when nothing better can be had, they will follow the
little Rudder-fish, and seize it immediately under the stern of the
ship. The Flying-fishes, after having escaped for a while by dint of
their great velocity, but on being again approached by the Dolphin,
emerge from the waters, and spreading their broad wing-like fins, sail
through the air and disperse in all directions, like a covey of timid
partridges before the rapacious falcon. Some pursue a direct course,
others diverge on either side; but in a short time they all drop into
their natural element. While they are travelling in the air, their
keen and hungry pursuer, like a greyhound, follows in their wake, and
performing a succession of leaps, many feet in extent, rapidly gains
upon the quarry, which is often seized just as it falls into the sea.
Dolphins manifest a very remarkable sympathy with each other. The
moment one of them is hooked or grained, those in company make up to
it, and remain around until the unfortunate fish is pulled on board,
when they generally move off together, seldom biting at any thing
thrown out to them. This, however, is the case only with the larger
individuals, which keep apart from the young, in the same manner as is
observed in several species of birds; for when the smaller Dolphins
are in large shoals, they all remain under the bows of a ship, and
bite in succession at any sort of line, as if determined to see what
has become of their lost companions, in consequence of which they
are often all caught.
You must not suppose that the Dolphin is without its enemies. Who, in
this world, man or fish, has not enough of them? Often it conceives
itself on the very eve of swallowing a fish, which, after all, is
nothing but a piece of lead, with a few feathers fastened to it, to
make it look like a flying-fish, when it is seized and severed in
two by the insidious Balacouda, which I have once seen to carry off
by means of its sharp teeth, the better part of a Dolphin that was
hooked, and already hoisted to the surface of the water.
The Dolphins caught in the Gulf of Mexico during this calm were
suspected to be poisonous; and to ascertain whether this was really
the case, our cook, who was an African Negro, never boiled or fried one
without placing beside it a dollar. If the silver was not tarnished by
the time the Dolphin was ready for the table, the fish was presented
to the passengers, with an assurance that it was perfectly good.
But as not a single individual of the hundred that we caught had the
property of converting silver into copper, I suspect that our African
sage was no magician.
One morning, that of the 22d of June, the weather sultry, I was
surprised, on getting out of my hammock, which was slung on deck, to
find the water all around swarming with Dolphins, which were sporting
in great glee. The sailors assured me that this was a certain “token
of wind,” and, as they watched the movement of the fishes, added,
“aye, and of a fair breeze too.” I caught several Dolphins in the
course of an hour, after which scarcely any remained about the ship.
Not a breath of air came to our relief all that day, no, nor even the
next. The sailors were in despair, and I would probably have become
despondent also, had not my spirits been excited by finding a very
large Dolphin on my hook. When I had hauled it on board, I found it to
be the largest I had ever caught. It was a magnificent creature. See
how it quivers in the agonies of death! its tail flaps the hard deck,
producing a sound like the rapid roll of a drum. How beautiful the
changes of its colours! Now it is blue, now green, silvery, golden,
and burnished copper; now it presents a blaze of all the hues of the
rainbow intermingled; but, alack! it is dead, and the play of its
colours is no longer seen. It has settled into the deep calm that
has paralyzed the energies of the blustering winds, and smoothed down
the proud waves of the ocean.
The best bait for the Dolphin is a long stripe of shark’s flesh. I
think it generally prefers this to the semblance of a flying-fish,
which indeed it does not often seize unless when the ship is under
weigh, and it is made to rise to the surface. There are times, however,
when hunger and the absence of their usual food, will induce the
Dolphins to dash at any sort of bait; and I have seen some caught by
means of a piece of white linen fastened to a hook. Their appetite is
as keen as that of the Vulture, and whenever a good opportunity occurs,
they gorge themselves to such a degree that they become an easy prey
to their enemies the Balacouda and the Bottle-nosed Porpoise. One that
had been grained while lazily swimming immediately under the stern
of our ship, was found to have its stomach completely crammed with
flying-fish, all regularly disposed side by side, with their tails
downwards,—by which I mean to say that the Dolphin always _swallows
its prey tail foremost_. They looked in fact like so many salted
herrings packed in a box, and were to the number of twenty-two, each
six or seven inches in length.
The usual length of the Dolphins caught in the Gulf of Mexico is about
three feet, and I saw none that exceeded four feet two inches. The
weight of one of the latter size was only eighteen pounds; for this
fish is extremely narrow in proportion to its length, although rather
deep in its form. When just caught, the upper fin, which reaches from
the forehead to within a short distance of the tail, is of a fine dark
blue. The upper part of the body in its whole length is azure, and
the lower parts are of a golden hue, mottled irregularly with deep
blue spots. It seems that they at times enter very shallow water, as
in the course of my last voyage along the Florida coast, some were
caught in a seine, along with their kinsman the “Cavalier,” of which
I shall speak elsewhere.
The flesh of the Dolphin is rather firm, very white, and lies in flakes
when cooked. The first caught are generally eaten with great pleasure,
but when served many days in succession, they become insipid. It is
not, as an article of food, equal to the Balacouda, which is perhaps
as good as any fish caught in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
THE FRIGATE PELICAN.
_TACHYPETES AQUILUS_, VIEILL.
PLATE CCLXXI. ADULT.
Previous to my visit to the Florida Keys, I had seen but few Frigate
Birds, and those only at some distance, while I was on the Gulf of
Mexico, so that I could merely recognise them by their mode of flight.
On approaching Indian Key, however, I observed several of them, and
as I proceeded farther south, their numbers rapidly increased; but on
the Tortugas very few were observed. This bird rarely travels farther
eastward than the Bay of Charleston in South Carolina, although it
is abundant at all seasons from Cape Florida to Cape Sable, the two
extreme points of the peninsula. How far south it may be found I
cannot tell.
The Frigate Pelicans may be said to be as gregarious as our Vultures:
You see them in small or large flocks, according to circumstances.
Like our Vultures, they spend the greater part of the day on wing,
searching for food; and like them also, when gorged or roosting,
they collect in large flocks, either to fan themselves or to sleep
close together. They are equally lazy, tyrannical, and rapacious,
domineering over birds weaker than themselves, and devouring the young
of every species, whenever an opportunity offers, in the absence of
the parents; in a word, they are most truly Marine Vultures.
About the middle of May, a period which to me appeared very late for
birds found in so warm a climate as that of the Florida Keys, the
Frigate Pelicans assemble in flocks of from fifty to five hundred
pairs or more. They are seen flying at a great height over the islands
on which they have bred many previous seasons, courting for hours
together; after which they return towards the mangroves, alight on
them, and at once begin to repair the old nests or construct new
ones. They pillage each other’s nests of their materials, and make
excursions for more to the nearest keys. They break the dry twigs of
trees with ease, passing swiftly on wing, and snapping them off by a
single grasp of their powerful bill. It is indeed a beautiful sight to
see them when thus occupied, especially when several are so engaged,
passing and repassing with the swiftness of thought over the trees
whose tops are blasted; their purpose appears as if accomplished by
magic. I know only two other birds that perform the same action: one
of them is the Forked-tailed Hawk, the other our swift or Chimney
Swallow; but neither of them is so expert as the Frigate Pelican. It
sometimes happens that this bird accidentally drops a stick while
travelling towards its nest, when, if this should happen over the
water, it plunges after it and seizes it with its bill before it has
reached the waves.
The nests are usually placed on the south side of the keys, and on
such trees as hang over the water, some low, others high, several in a
single tree, or only one, according to the size of the mangrove, but
in some cases lining the whole side of the island. They are composed
of sticks crossing each other to the height of about two inches, and
are flattish but not very large. When the birds are incubating, their
long wings and tail are seen extending beyond the nest for more than
a foot. The eggs are two or three, more frequently the latter number,
measure two inches and seven-eighths in length, two in breadth, being
thus of a rather elongated form, and have a thick smooth shell, of a
greenish-white colour, frequently soiled by the filth of the nests.
The young are covered with yellowish-white down, and look at first as
if they had no feet. They are fed by regurgitation, but grow tardily,
and do not leave the nest until they are able to follow their parents
on wing.
At that period the plumage of the young females is marbled with grey
and brown, with the exception of the head and the lower parts, which
are white. The tail is about half the length it attains at the first
moult, and is brownish-black, as are the primaries. After the first
change of plumage, the wings become longer, and their flight is almost
as elegant and firm as that of older birds.
The second spring plumage of this sex is brownish-black on the upper
parts, that colour extending over the head and around the neck in
irregular patches of brown, continued in a sharp angle towards the
breast, but separated on its sides by the white that ascends on
either side of the neck towards the head. The lower tail-coverts are
brownish-black, as are the lower parts of the belly and flanks; the
shoulders alone remaining as at first. The tail and wings are perfect.
The third spring, the upper parts of the head and neck are of a purer
brownish-black, which extends down to the extremity of the angle, as
are the feathers of the belly and the lower tail-coverts, the dark
colour reaching now to within five inches of the angle on the breast.
The white of the intermediate space has become much purer; here and
there light tints of bronze appear; the feet, which at first were dull
yellow, have become of a rich reddish-orange, and the bill is pale
blue. The bird is now capable of breeding, although its full plumage
is not obtained until the next moult, when the colours become glossy
above, and the white of the breast pure.
The changes which the males undergo are less remarkable. They are
at first, when fully fledged, entirely of the colour seen on the
upper parts of the young females; and the tint is merely improved
afterwards, becoming of a deeper brownish-black, and acquiring purer
reflections of green, purple and bronze, which in certain lights are
seen on every part of the head, neck and body, and in very old males
on the wings and tail. They also commence breeding the third spring.
But I now return to the habits of this interesting bird.
The Frigate Pelican is possessed of a power of flight which I conceive
superior to that of perhaps any other bird. However swiftly the
Cayenne Tern, the smaller Gulls or the Jager move on wing, it seems a
matter of mere sport to it to overtake any of them. The Goshawk, the
Peregrine, and the Gyr Falcon, which I conceive to be the swiftest
of our hawks, are obliged to pursue their victim, should it be a
Green-winged Teal or Passenger Pigeon, at times for half a mile,
at the highest pitch of their speed, before they can secure them.
The bird of which I speak comes from on high with the velocity of a
meteor, and on nearing the object of its pursuit, which its keen eye
has spied while fishing at a distance, darts on either side to cut
off all retreat, and with open bill forces it to drop or disgorge the
fish which it has just caught. See him now! Yonder, over the waves
leaps the brilliant dolphin, as he pursues the flying-fishes, which
he expects to seize the moment they drop into the water. The Frigate
Bird, who has marked them, closes his wings, dives toward them, and
now ascending, holds one of the tiny things across his bill. Already
fifty yards above the sea, he spies a porpoise in full chase, launches
towards the spot, and in passing seizes the mullet that had escaped
from its dreaded foe; but now, having obtained a fish too large for
his gullet, he rises, munching it all the while, as if bound for the
skies. Three or four of his own tribe have watched him and observed
his success. They shoot towards him on broadly extended pinions, rise
in wide circles, smoothly, yet as swiftly as himself. They are now
all at the same height, and each as it overtakes him, lashes him with
its wings, and tugs at his prey. See! one has fairly robbed him, but
before he can secure the contested fish it drops. One of the other
birds has caught it, but he is pursued by all. From bill to bill, and
through the air, rapidly falls the fish, until it drops quite dead
on the waters, and sinks into the deep. Whatever disappointment the
hungry birds feel, they seem to deserve it all.
Sights like these you may every day see, if you take ship and sail
for the Florida Keys. I have more to tell you, however, and of things
that to me were equally pleasing. While standing in the cool veranda
of Major GLASSEL of the United States army, at Key West, I observed
a Frigate Pelican that had forced a Cayenne Tern, yet in sight, to
drop a fish, which the broad-winged warrior had seized as it fell.
This fish was rather large for the Tern, and might probably be about
eight inches in length. The Frigate Pelican mounted with it across
his bill about a hundred yards, and then tossing it up caught it as
it fell, but not in the proper manner. He therefore dropped it, but
before it had fallen many yards, caught it again. Still it was not in
a good position, the weight of the head, it seemed, having prevented
the bird from seizing it by that part. A second time the fish was
thrown upwards, and now at last was received in a convenient manner,
that is, with its head downwards, and immediately swallowed.
When the morning light gladdens the face of nature, and while the
warblers are yet waiting in silence the first rays of the sun, whose
appearance they will hail with songs of joy, the Frigate Bird, on
extended pinions, sails from his roosting place. Slowly and gently,
with retracted neck he glides, as if desirous of quietly trying
the renovated strength of his wings. Toward the vast deep he moves,
rising apace, and before any other bird views the bright orb emerging
from the waters. Pure is the azure of the heavens, and rich the deep
green of the smooth sea below; there is every prospect of the finest
weather; and now the glad bird shakes his pinions; and far up into
the air, far beyond the reach of man’s unaided eye, he soars in his
quiet but rapid flight. There he floats in the pure air, but thither
can fancy alone follow him. Would that I could accompany him! But now
I see him again, with half-closed wings, gently falling towards the
sea. He pauses a while, and again dives through the air. Thrice, four
times, has he gradually approached the surface of the ocean; now he
shakes his pinions as violently as the swordsman whirls his claymore;
all is right; and he sweeps away, shooting to this side and that, in
search of prey.
Mid-day has arrived, and threatening clouds obscure the horizon; the
breeze, ere felt, ruffles the waters around; a thick mist advances
over the deep; the sky darkens, and as the angry blasts curl the
waves, the thunder mutters afar; all nature is involved in gloom,
and all is in confusion, save only the Man-of-war Bird, who gallantly
meets the gale. If he cannot force his way against the storm, he keeps
his ground, balancing himself like a hawk watching his prey beneath;
but now the tempest rages, and rising obliquely, he shoots away, and
ere long surmounts the tumultuous clouds, entering a region calm and
serene, where he floats secure until the world below has resumed its
tranquillity.
I have frequently observed the Frigate Bird scratch its head with its
feet while on wing; and this happening one day, when the bird fell
through the air, as it is accustomed to do at such times, until it came
within shot, I killed it when almost over my head, and immediately
picked it up. I had been for years anxious to know what might be the
use of the pectinated claws of birds; and on examining both its feet
with a glass, I found the racks crammed with insects, such as occur
on the bird’s head, and especially around the ears. I also observed
that the pectinated claws of birds of this species were much longer,
flatter, and more comb-like than those of any other species with which
I am acquainted. I now therefore feel convinced, that, however useful
this instrument may be on other occasions, it is certainly employed
in cleansing parts of the skin of birds which cannot be reached by
the bill.
At times these birds may be seen chasing and jostling each other
as if engaged in a frolic, after which they bear away on extended
wings, and fly in a direct course until out of sight. But although
their flight is easy and powerful, in a degree not surpassed by any
other bird, they move with great difficulty on the ground. They can
rise, however, from a sand-bar, no matter how low and level it may
be. At such times, as well as when sitting on the water, which it
occasionally does, the bird raises its wings almost perpendicularly,
spreads its tail half erect, and at the first flap of the former,
and simultaneous stroke of the latter, on the ground or the water,
bounces away. Its feet, however, are of little service beyond what I
have mentioned, and the supporting of its body when it has alighted
on a branch, on which it rarely stands very erect, although it moves
sideways on it, as Parrots sometimes do. It never dives, its bill in
form resembling that of the Cormorants, which also never plunge from
on wing in pursuit of fish, and only dip into the water when dropping
from a perch or a rock to escape danger, as the Anhingas and some
other birds are also accustomed to do.
When the Frigate Pelican is in want of a dead fish, a crab, or any
floating garbage suited to its appetite, it approaches the water in
the manner of Gulls, holding its wings high, and beating them until
the bill has performed its duty, which being accomplished, the bird
immediately rises in the air and devours its prey.
These birds see well at night, although they never go to sea excepting
by day. At various times I have accidentally sailed by mangrove keys
on which hundreds were roosted, and apparently sound asleep, when, on
my firing a gun for the purpose of starting whatever birds might be
there, they would all take to wing and sail as beautifully as during
day, returning to the trees as the boats proceeded. They are by no
means shy; indeed they seem unaware of danger from a gun, and rarely
all go off when a party is shooting at them, until a considerable
number has been obtained. The only difficulty I experienced in
procuring them was on account of the height to which they so soon
rose on leaving the trees; but we had excellent guns, and our worthy
pilot’s “Long Tom” distinguished itself above the rest. At one place,
where we found many hundreds of them, they sailed for nearly half an
hour over our heads, and about thirty were shot, some of them at a
remarkable height, when we could hear the shot strike them, and when,
as they fell to the water, the sound of their great wings whirling
through the air resembled that produced by a sail flapping during a
calm. When shot at and touched ever so slightly, they disgorge their
food in the manner of Vultures, Gulls and some Terns; and if they
have fallen and are approached, they continue to vomit the contents
of their stomach, which at times are extremely putrid and nauseous.
When seized, they evince little disposition to defend themselves,
although ever so slightly wounded, but struggle and beat themselves
until killed. Should you, however, place your fingers within their
open bill, you might not withdraw them scatheless.
They are extremely silent, and the only note which I heard them utter
was a rough croaking one. They devour the young of the Brown Pelican
when quite small, as well as those of other birds whose nests are
flat and exposed during the absence of the parent birds; but their own
young suffer in the same manner from the still more voracious Turkey
Buzzard. The notion that the Frigate Bird forces the Pelicans and
Boobies to disgorge their prey is erroneous. The Pelican, if attacked
or pursued by this bird, could alight on the water or elsewhere,
and by one stroke of its sharp and powerful bill destroy the rash
aggressor. The Booby would in all probability thrust its strong and
pointed bill against the assailant with equal success. The Cayenne
Tern, and other species of that genus, as well as several small
Gulls, all abundant on the Florida coasts, are its purveyors, and
them it forces to disgorge or drop their prey. Those of the deep are
the dolphins, porpoises, and occasionally the sharks. Their sight is
wonderfully keen, and they now and then come down from a great height
to pick up a dead fish only a few inches long floating on the water.
Their flesh is tough, dark, and, as food, unfit for any other person
than one in a state of starvation.
I have given a figure of a very beautiful old male in spring plumage,
which was selected from a great number of all ages. I have also
represented the feet of an individual between two and three years
old, on account of the richness of their colour at that age, whereas
in the adult males they are quite black.
PELECANUS AQUILUS, _Linn._ Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 216.
PELECANUS AQUILUS, LEUCOCEPHALUS, and PALMERSTONI, _Lath._
Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. pp. 885, 886.
TACHYPETES AQUILUS, _Ch. Bonaparte_, Synops. of Birds of
the United States, p. 406.
FRIGATE PELICAN, _Nuttall_, Manual, vol. ii. p. 491.
Adult Male. Plate CCLXXI.
Bill much longer than the head, strong, broader than deep, excepting
towards the curved extremity, the edges irregularly jagged. Upper
mandible with the dorsal line slightly concave, at the tip decurved,
its ridge broad and nearly flat at the base, narrowed and more convex
towards the end, the sides separated from the ridge by a narrow
groove, convex, the edges sharp and inflected, with a prominence
at the commencement of the curve of the elongated compressed hooked
point. Nostrils basal, linear, inconspicuous. Lower mandible with the
angle extremely long, narrow, the membrane bare and dilatable into
a small pouch, the very short dorsal line decurved, the sides erect
at the base, convex in the rest of their extent, the edges sharp and
much inflected, at the narrow tip decurved.
Head of moderate size, oblong. Neck of moderate length, stout. Body
rather slender. Feet very short, stout; tibia very short; tarsus
extremely short, feathered; toes all placed in the same plane, and
connected by short reticulated webs with concave margins, but running
narrow along the sides; they are scutellate above, broad and papillate
beneath; first toe small, second shorter than fourth, third much
longer than the latter. Claws strong, compressed, curved, acute, that
of middle toe long, obliquely flattened, and pectinate on the inner
edge.