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Part Ii. P. 274.

Ornithological Biography, Vol. 2 (of 5) · John James Audubon — chapter 9 of 11 · ~24,933 words · public domain

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Adult Male. Plate CLVIII.

Bill of moderate length, rather stout, straight, broad at the base, compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the dorsal outline a little convex, the sides convex, the edges sharp and nearly perpendicular, with a very small notch close upon the small deflected tip; lower mandible with the back broad, the sides rounded, the edges sharp and inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, depressed, neck short, body rather slender. Feet rather short; tarsus compressed, rather sharp before and behind, anteriorly covered with broad scutella; toes free, the hind toe not proportionally larger; claws slightly arched, compressed, acute.

Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Basirostral bristles strong. Wings rather long, second quills longest, third a little shorter, first almost as long as third, all the three curiously cut into near the end, with a sharp sinus, the rest of the quills to the tip being extremely slender. Tail with the lateral feather extremely elongated, very deeply forked, the middle feathers being of ordinary length, the intermediate ones graduated.

Bill and feet black. Iris dusky. Head and cheeks deep black, the feathers of the crown deep yellow at the base, that colour being visible only when the crest is elevated. The back is ash-grey, becoming darker behind, so that the tail-feathers are blackish-brown, margined with grey. Wing-coverts and quills blackish-brown, slightly margined with grey, as is the tail, of which, however, the outer web of the lateral feather is white for half its length from the base. The lower parts are white.

Length 14¼ inches, extent of wings 14; bill along the ridge 7/12, along the edge 10/12; tarsus 7½/12. Outer tail-feathers 10, the next 4¾, the middle ones 2½.

The Female resembles the Male.

GORDONIA LASIANTHUS, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iii. p. 840. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 451.—MONODELPHIA POLYANDRIA, Linn.

This beautiful small tree is met with in Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida, in moist lands near the coast, and never fails to attract the eye by its beautiful blossoms. The twig from which the drawing was made was procured from the garden of Mr NOISETTE, who liberally afforded me all the aid in his power for embellishing my plates. The leaves are evergreen, lanceolato-oblong, shining, and leathery; the flowers white, of the size of the common garden-rose, and placed on long peduncles; the capsules conical and acuminate.

THE MANGROVE CUCKOO.

COCCYZUS SENICULUS, NUTTALL.

PLATE CLXIX. MALE.

A few days after my arrival at Key West in the Floridas, early in the month of May, Major GLASSEL of the United States' Army presented me with a specimen of this bird, which had been killed by one of the soldiers belonging to the garrison. I had already observed many Cuckoos in the course of my walks through the tangled woods of that curious island; but as they seemed to be our Common Yellow-billed species, I passed them without paying much attention to them. The moment this specimen was presented to me however, I knew that it was a species unknown to me, and thought, as I have on many occasions had reason to do, how vigilant the student of nature ought to be, when placed in a country previously unvisited by him. The bird was immediately drawn, and I afterwards shot several others, all precisely corresponding with it.

The habits of the Mangrove Cuckoo I found to be much the same as those of our two other well known species. Like them, it is fond of sucking the eggs of all kinds of birds in the absence of their owners, and also feeds on fruits and various species of insects. It is, however, more vigilant and shy, and does not extend its migrations northward beyond the eastern capes of the Floridas, appearing, indeed, to confine itself mostly to the islets covered with mangroves, among the sombre foliage of which trees it usually builds its nest and rears its young. It retires southward in the beginning of September, according to the accounts of it which I received in the country.

The nest is slightly constructed of dry twigs, and is almost flat, nearly resembling that of the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, which I have already described. The eggs are of the same number and form as those of that species, but somewhat larger. It raises two broods in the season, and feeds its young on insects until they are able to go abroad.

The White-headed Pigeon is frequently robbed of its eggs by this plunderer, and it is alleged by the fishermen and wreckers that it destroys the squabs when yet very young, but I saw no instance of this barbarous propensity. One which had been caught in its nest, and which I saw placed in a cage, refused all kinds of food, and soon died. This, however proved to me the great affection which they have towards their eggs. Their flight is much like that of the other species described by me, perhaps only more rapid and elevated when they are proceeding to some distant place.

COCCYZUS SENICULUS, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 558.

CUCULUS SENICULUS, Lath. Index Ornith. vol. i. p. 219.

MANGROVE CUCKOO, Lath. Synops. vol. ii. p. 537.

Adult Male. Plate CLXIX.

Bill as long as the head, broad at the base, compressed, slightly arched, acute; upper mandible carinated above, its margins acute and entire; lower mandible carinated beneath, acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, linear-elliptical, half-closed by a membrane. Feet short; tarsus covered with a few large scutella, which extend around it and meet behind; toes two before, separated; two behind, one of which is versatile; their under surface broad and flat; claws slender, compressed, arched.

Plumage soft, blended, slightly glossed. Wings long, the first quill short, the third and fourth longest and equal; primaries tapering, secondaries broad and rounded. Tail very long, graduated, of ten feathers, which are broad and rounded.

Upper mandible brownish-black, lower mandible yellow at the base, blackish on the margin and at the end. Iris hazel. Feet greyish-blue. The general colour of the upper parts, including the wing-coverts and two middle tail-feathers, is light greenish-brown, the head tinged with grey; primary quills umber-brown; tail-feathers, excepting the two middle ones, brownish-black tipped with white, the outer more largely. The lower surface brownish-orange.

Length 12 inches, extent of wings 15; bill along the ridge 1, along the edge 1¼; tarsus 1-1/12, longest toe 1¼.

The Female resembles the male, but is somewhat paler, especially on the lower surface, which is tinged with grey.

THE SEVEN YEARS' APPLE, Catesby, plate 59.

The plant, on a twig of which I have represented the Mangrove Cuckoo, is found on all the Florida Keys, and at times is seen growing in large patches on the mud flats that exist between the outer islets and the mainland. The leaves are thick, glossy above, furred, and of a dull brown colour beneath.

THE PIPIRY FLYCATCHER.

MUSCICAPA DOMINICENSIS, BRISS.

PLATE CLXX. MALE.

Having landed on one of the Florida Keys, I scarcely had time to cast a glance over the diversified vegetation which presented itself, when I observed a pair of birds mounting perpendicularly in the air twittering with a shrill continued note new to me. The country itself was new: it was what my mind had a thousand times before conceived a tropical scene to be. As I walked over many plants, curious and highly interesting to me, my sensations were joyous in the highest degree, for I saw that in a few moments I should possess a new subject, on which I could look with delight, as one of the great Creator's marvellous works.

I was on one of those yet unknown islets, which the foot of man has seldom pressed. A Flycatcher unknown to me had already presented itself, and the cooing of a Dove never before heard come on my ear. I felt some of that pride, which doubtless pervades the breast of the discoverer of some hitherto unknown land. Although desirous of obtaining the birds before me, I had no wish to shoot them at that moment. My gun lay loosely on my arms, my eyes were rivetted on the Flycatchers, my ears open to the soft notes of the Doves. Reader, such are the moments, amid days of toil and discomfort, that compensate for every privation. It is on such occasions that the traveller feels most convinced, that the farther he proceeds, the better will be his opportunities of observing the results of the Divine conception. What else, I would ask of you, can be more gratifying to the human intellect!

Delighted and amused I stood for a while contemplating the beautiful world that surrounded me, and from which man would scarcely retire with willingness, had not the Almighty ordained it otherwise. But action had now to succeed, and I quickly procured some of the Flycatchers. Their habits too, I subsequently studied for weeks in succession, and the result of my observations I now lay before you.

About the 1st of April, this species reaches the Florida Keys, and spreads over the whole of them, as far as Cape Florida, or perhaps somewhat farther along the eastern coast of the Peninsula. It comes from Cuba, where the species is said to be rather abundant, as well as in the other West India Islands. Its whole demeanour so much resembles that of the Tyrant Flycatcher, that were it not for its greater size, and the difference of its notes, it might be mistaken for that bird, as I think it has been on former occasions by travellers less intent than I, on distinguishing species. At the season when I visited the Floridas, there was not a Key ever so small without at least a pair of them.

Their flight is performed by a constant flutter of the wings, unless when the bird is in chase, or has been rendered shy, when it exhibits a power and speed equal to those of any other species of the genus. During the love season, the male and female are seen rising from a dry twig together, either perpendicularly, or in a spiral manner, crossing each other as they ascend, twittering loudly, and conducting themselves in a manner much resembling that of the Tyrant Flycatcher. When in pursuit of insects, they dart at them with great velocity. Should any large bird pass near their stand, they immediately pursue it, sometimes to a considerable distance. I have seen them, after teasing a Heron or Fish Crow, follow them nearly half a mile, and return exulting to the tree on which they had previously been perched. Yet I frequently observed that the approach of a White-headed Pigeon or Zenaida Dove, never ruffled their temper. To the Grakles they were particularly hostile, and on all occasions drove them away from their stand, or the vicinity of their nest, with unremitting perseverance. The reason in this case, and in that of the Fish Crow, was obvious, for these birds sucked their eggs or destroyed their young whenever an opportunity occurred. This was also the case with the Mangrove Cuckoo.

This species is careless of the approach of man, probably because it is seldom disturbed by him. I have been so near some of them as to see distinctly the colour of their eyes. No sooner, however, had it begun to build its nest, than it flew about me or my companions, as if much exasperated at our being near, frequently snapping its beak with force, and in various ways loudly intimating its disapprobation of our conduct. Then as if we retired from the neighbourhood of its nest, it flew upwards, chattering notes of joy.

They fix their nest somewhat in the manner of the King Bird, that is, on horizontal branches, or in the large fork of a mangrove, or bush of any other species, without paying much attention to its position, with respect to the water, but with very singular care to place it on the western side of the tree, or of the islet. I found it sometimes not more than two feet above high water, and at other times twenty. It is composed externally of light dry sticks, internally of a thin layer of slender grasses or fibrous roots, and has some resemblance to that of the Carolina Pigeon in this respect that, from beneath, I could easily see the eggs through it. These were regularly four in all the nests that I saw, of a white colour, with many dots towards the larger end. The young I have never seen, my visit to those Keys having been in some measure abridged through lack of provisions.

On one of the Keys to which I went, although of small size, I saw several nests, and at least a dozen of these birds all peaceably enjoying themselves. The sexes present no external difference. According to report, they retire from these islands about the beginning of November, after which few land birds of any kind are seen on them.

After I had arrived at Charlestown in South Carolina, on returning from my expedition to the Floridas, a son of PAUL LEE, Esq. a friend of the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN, called upon us, asserting that he had observed a pair of Flycatchers in the College Yard, differing from all others with which he was acquainted. We listened, but paid little regard to the information, and deferred our visit to the trees in the College Yard. A week after, young LEE returned to the charge, urging us to go to the place, and see both the birds and their nest. To please this amiable youth Mr BACHMAN and I soon reached the spot; but before we arrived the nest had been destroyed by some boys. The birds were not to be seen, but a Common King Bird happening to fly over us, we jeered our young observer, and returned home. Soon after the Flycatchers formed another nest, in which they reared a brood, when young LEE gave intimation to Mr BACHMAN, who, on visiting the place, recognised them as of the species described in this article. Of this I was apprised by letter after I had left Charleston, for the purpose of visiting the northern parts of the Union. The circumstance enforced upon me the propriety of never suffering an opportunity of acquiring knowledge to pass, and of never imagining for a moment that another may not know something that has escaped your attention.

Since that time, three years have elapsed. The birds have regularly returned every spring to the College-yard, and have there reared, in peace, two broods each season, having been admired and respected by the collegians, after they were apprised that the species had not previously been found in the State. It thus furnishes another of the now numerous instances of new species entering the Union from the south, to increase our Fauna, and enliven our hours.

The branch on which I have represented a Male in full plumage, is that of a species rather rare on the Florida Keys, although, as I was assured, it abounds in Cuba. It blooms during the season when this bird builds its nest. The flower is destitute of scent; the fruit is a long narrow legume, containing numerous seeds, placed at equal distances.

LE TYRAN DE S. DOMINIQUE, TYRANNUS DOMINICENSIS, Briss. vol. ii. p. 394. pl. 38. fig. 2.

LANIUS TYRANNUS, var. β, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. i. p. 81.

TYRANNUS GRISEUS, Vieill. Ois. de l'Amer. pl. 46.

Adult Male. Plate CLXX.

Bill rather long, stout, straight, broad at the base, a little compressed towards the end; both mandibles with the dorsal line a little convex, the sides rounded, the edges nearly straight, sharp, inclinate; a slight notch close to the small deflected tip. Nostrils basal, lateral, roundish, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather slender. Feet short; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few very broad scutella; toes of moderate size, the hind one not proportionally stronger, the inner a little shorter than the outer; claws rather long, arched, much compressed, very acute.

Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Strong bristles at the base of the upper mandible. Wings rather long, third quill longest, but the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth differ very little in length; the first is the next in length, and is much longer than the seventh; all these quills, excepting the last, are slightly cut out on the outer web, and are suddenly diminished on the inner, near the end, so as to have a very narrow rounded extremity. Tail rather long, emarginate, of twelve rounded feathers.

Bill and feet brownish-black. Iris dark hazel. Upper parts in general dull ash-grey; shaded with brown posteriorly, a concealed spot of flame colour on the top of the head, which is perceptible only when the feathers are raised. Coverts, quills, and tail-feathers dusky brown, all more or less margined with brownish-white. The lower parts are greyish-white, the breast and sides pale grey, the lower tail-coverts tinged with yellow, as are the lower wing-coverts.

Length 8⅞ inches, extent of wings 14⅜; bill along the ridge 1-1/12, along the edge 1-4/12; tarsus 9/12.

The Female resembles the Male, but is somewhat smaller, and the bright spot on the head is paler.

The leguminous plant of which a twig is represented in the plate, is one of the handsomest productions of Key West, where I found it in full flower in the month of May. It reaches the height of twenty feet or more, and has a rather slender, but elegant stem, of which the wood is as brittle as that of our common acacias. The pods are eight or nine inches in length, and of the size of a swan's quill; the seeds, which are dark-brown when ripe, glossy and globular, lie at regular intervals. The deep green of the long pendulous leaves, and the bright red of the large papilionaceous flowers, form a beautiful contrast. Many of these trees were planted near the house of my friend Dr BENJAMIN STROBEL, under whose hospitable roof the twig was drawn. I saw no plants of the species on any other Key.

THE BURNING OF THE FORESTS.

With what pleasure have I seated myself by the blazing fire of some lonely cabin, when, faint with fatigue, and chilled with the piercing blast, I had forced my way to it through the drifted snows that covered the face of the country as with a mantle! The affectionate mother is hushing her dear babe to repose, while a group of sturdy children surround their father, who has just returned from the chase, and deposited on the rough flooring of his hut the varied game which he has procured. The great back log, that with some difficulty has been rolled into the ample chimney, urged, as it were, by lighted pieces of pine, sends forth a blaze of light over the happy family. The dogs of the hunter are already licking away the trickling waters of the thawing icicles that sparkle over their shaggy coats, and the comfort-loving cat is busied in passing her furry paws over each ear, or with her rough tongue smoothing her glossy coat.

How delightful to me has it been, when kindly received and hospitably treated under such a roof, by persons whose means were as scanty as their generosity was great, I have entered into conversation with them respecting subjects of interest to me, and received gratifying information. When the humble but plentiful repast was ended, the mother would take from the shelf the Book of books, and mildly request the attention of her family while the father read aloud a chapter. Then to Heaven would ascend their humble prayers, and a good-night would be bidden to all friends far and near. How comfortably have I laid my wearied frame on the buffalo hide, and covered me with the furry skin of some huge bear! How pleasing have been my dreams of home and happiness, as I there lay secure from danger, and sheltered from the inclemency of the weather.

I recollect that once while in the State of Maine, I passed such a night as I have described. Next morning the face of nature was obscured by the heavy rains that fell in torrents, and my generous host begged me to remain in such pressing terms, that I was well content to accept his offer. Breakfast over, the business of the day commenced: the spinning wheels went round, and the boys employed themselves, one in searching for knowledge, another in attempting to solve some ticklish arithmetical problem. In a corner lay the dogs dreaming of plunder, while close to the ashes stood grimalkin seriously purring in concert with the wheels. The hunter and I seated ourselves each on a stool, while the matron looked after her domestic arrangements.

"Puss," quoth the Dame, "get away; you told me last night of this day's rain, and I fear you may now give us worse news with tricky paws." Puss accordingly went off, leaped on a bed, and rolling herself in a ball, composed herself for a comfortable nap. I asked the husband what his wife meant by what she had just said. "The goodwoman," said he, "has some curious notions at times, and she believes, I think, in the ways of animals of all kinds. Now, her talk to the cat refers to the fires of the woods around us, and although they have happened long ago, she fears them quite as much as ever, and indeed she and I, and all of us, have good reason to dread them, as they have brought us many calamities." Having read of the great fires to which my host alluded, and frequently observed with sorrow the mournful state of the forests, I felt anxious to know something of the causes by which these direful effects had been produced. I therefore requested him to give me an account of the events resulting from those fires which he had witnessed. Willingly he at once went on nearly as follows:—

"About twenty-five years ago, the larch or hackmitack trees were nearly all killed by insects. This took place in what hereabouts is called the "black soft growth" land, that is the spruce, pine, and all other firs. The destruction of the trees was effected by the insects cutting the leaves, and you must know, that although other trees are not killed by the loss of their leaves, the evergreens always are. Some few years after this destruction of the larch, the same insects attacked the spruces, pines, and other firs, in such a manner, that before half a dozen years were over, they began to fall, and, tumbling in all directions, they covered the whole country with matted masses. You may suppose that, when partially dried or seasoned, they would prove capital fuel, as well as supplies for the devouring flames which accidentally, or perhaps by intention, afterwards raged over the country, and continued burning at intervals for years, in many places stopping all communication by the roads, the resinous nature of the firs being of course best fitted to ensure and keep up the burning of the deep beds of dry leaves or of the other trees."—Here I begged him to give me some idea of the form of the insects which had caused such havoc.

"The insects," said he, "were, in their caterpillar form, about three quarters of an inch in length, and as green as the leaves of the trees they fed on, when they committed their ravages. I must tell you also, that in most of the places over which the fire passed, a new growth of wood has already sprung up, of what we lumberers call hard wood, which consists of all other sorts but pine or fir; and I have always remarked that wherever the first natural growth of a forest is destroyed, either by the axe, the hurricane, or the fire, there springs up spontaneously another of quite a different kind." I again stopped my host to inquire if he knew the method or nature of the first kindling of the fires.

"Why, Sir," said he, "there are different opinions about this. Many believe that the Indians did it, either to be the better able to kill the game, or to punish their enemies the Pale-faces. My opinion, however, is different; and I derive it from my experience in the woods as a lumberer. I have always thought that the fires began by the accidental fall of a dry trunk against another, when their rubbing together, especially as many of them are covered with resin, would produce fire. The dry leaves on the ground are at once kindled, next the twigs and branches, when nothing but the intervention of the Almighty could stop the progress of the fire.

"In some instances, owing to the wind, the destructive element approached the dwellings of the inhabitants of the woods so rapidly that it was difficult for them to escape. In some parts, indeed, hundreds of families were obliged to flee from their homes, leaving all they had behind them, and here and there some of the affrighted fugitives were burnt alive."

At this moment a rush of wind came down the chimney, blowing the blaze of the fire towards the room. The wife and daughter, imagining for a moment that the woods were again on fire, made for the door, but the husband, explaining the cause of their terror, they resumed their work.

"Poor things," said the lumberer, "I dare say that what I have told you brings sad recollections to the minds of my wife and eldest daughter, who, with myself, had to fly from our home, at the time of the great fires." I felt so interested in his relation of the causes of the burnings, that I asked him to describe to me the particulars of his misfortunes at the time. "If Prudence and Polly," said he, looking towards his wife and daughter, "will promise to sit still, should another puff of smoke come down the chimney, I will do so." The good natured smile with which he accompanied this remark, elicited a return from the women, and he proceeded:—

"It is a difficult thing, Sir, to describe, but I will do my best to make your time pass pleasantly. We were sound asleep one night, in a cabin about a hundred miles from this, when about two hours before day, the snorting of the horses and lowing of the cattle which I had ranging in the woods suddenly wakened us. I took yon rifle, and went to the door to see what beast had caused the hubbub, when I was struck by the glare of light reflected on all the trees before me, as far as I could see through the woods. My horses were leaping about, snorting loudly, and the cattle ran among them with their tails raised straight over their backs. On going to the back of the house, I plainly heard the crackling made by the burning brushwood, and saw the flames coming towards us in a far extended line. I ran to the house, told my wife to dress herself and the child as quickly as possible, and take the little money we had, while I managed to catch and saddle the two best horses. All this was done in a very short time, for I guessed that every moment was precious to us.

"We then mounted, and made off from the fire. My wife, who is an excellent rider, stuck close to me; my daughter, who was then a small child, I took in one arm. When making off as I said, I looked back and saw that the frightful blaze was close upon us, and had already laid hold of the house. By good luck, there was a horn attached to my hunting clothes, and I blew it, to bring after us, if possible, the remainder of my live stock, as well as the dogs. The cattle followed for a while; but, before an hour had elapsed, they all ran as if mad through the woods, and that, Sir, was the last of them. My dogs, too, although at all other times extremely tractable, ran after the deer that in bodies sprung before us, as if fully aware of the death that was so rapidly approaching.

"We heard blasts from the horns of our neighbours, as we proceeded, and knew that they were in the same predicament. Intent on striving to the utmost to preserve our lives, I thought of a large lake, some miles off, which might possibly check the flames; and, urging my wife to whip up her horse, we set off at full speed, making the best way we could over the fallen trees and the brush heaps, which lay like so many articles placed on purpose to keep up the terrific fires that advanced with a broad front upon us.

By this time we could feel the heat; and we were afraid that our horses would drop every instant. A singular kind of breeze was passing over our heads, and the glare of the atmosphere shone over the day light. I was sensible of a slight faintness, and my wife looked pale. The heat had produced such a flush in the child's face, that when she turned towards either of us, our grief and perplexity were greatly increased. Ten miles, you know, are soon gone over on swift horses; but, notwithstanding this, when we reached the borders of the lake, covered with sweat and quite exhausted, our hearts failed us. The heat of the smoke was insufferable, and sheets of blazing fire flew over us in a manner beyond belief. We reached the shores, however, coasted the lake for a while, and got round to the lee side. There we gave up our horses, which we never saw again. Down among the rushes we plunged by the edge of the water, and laid ourselves flat, to wait the chance of escaping from being burnt or devoured. The water refreshed us, and we enjoyed the coolness.

"On went the fire, rushing and crashing through the woods. Such a sight may we never see! The heavens themselves, I thought, were frightened, for all above us was a red glare, mixed with clouds of smoke, rolling and sweeping away. Our bodies were cool enough, but our heads were scorching, and the child, who now seemed to understand the matter, cried so as nearly to break our hearts.

"The day passed on, and we became hungry. Many wild beasts came plunging into the water beside us, and others swam across to our side and stood still. Although faint and weary, I managed to shoot a porcupine, and we all tasted its flesh. The night passed I cannot tell you how. Smouldering fires covered the ground, and the trees stood like pillars of fire, or fell across each other. The stifling and sickening smoke still rushed over us, and the burnt cinders and ashes fell thick about us. How we got through that night I really cannot tell, for about some of it I remember nothing." Here the hunter paused, and took breath. The recital of his adventure seemed to have exhausted him. His wife proposed that we should have a bowl of milk, and the daughter having handed it to us, we each took a draught.

"Now," said he, "I will proceed. Towards morning, although the heat did not abate, the smoke became less, and blasts of fresh air sometimes made their way to us. When morning came, all was calm, but a dismal smoke still filled the air, and the smell seemed worse than ever. We were now cooled enough, and shivered as if in an ague fit; so we removed from the water, and went up to a burning log, where we warmed ourselves. What was to become of us I did hot know. My wife hugged the child to her breast, and wept bitterly; but God had preserved us through the worst of the danger, and the flames had gone past, so I thought it would be both ungrateful to Him, and unmanly to despair now. Hunger once more pressed upon us, but this was easily remedied. Several deer were still standing in the water, up to the head, and I shot one of them. Some of its flesh was soon roasted; and, after eating it, we felt wonderfully strengthened.

"By this time the blaze of the fire was beyond our sight, although the ground was still burning in many places, and it was dangerous to go among the burnt trees. After resting a while, and trimming ourselves, we prepared to commence our march. Taking up the child, I led the way over the hot ground and rocks; and, after two weary days and nights, during which we shifted in the best manner we could, we at last reached the "hard woods," which had been free of the fire. Soon after we came to a house, where we were kindly treated for a while. Since then, Sir, I have worked hard and constantly as a lumberer; but, thanks be to God, here we are safe, sound, and happy!"

THE BARN OWL.

STRIX FLAMMEA, LINN.

PLATE CLXXI. MALE AND FEMALE.

Not a single individual of the numerous persons who have described the birds of the United States, seems to have had opportunities of studying the habits of this beautiful Owl, and all that I find related respecting it is completely at variance with my observations. In describing the manners of this bird, I shall therefore use all due caution, although at the same time I shall not be too anxious to obtain credit in this, more than in some other matters, for which I have patiently borne the contradictions of the ignorant. The following extracts from my journals I hope will prove interesting.

St Augustine, East Florida, 8th November 1832.—Mr SIMMONS, the Keeper of the Fort, whom I had known at Henderson in Kentucky, having informed me that some boys had taken five young Barn Owls from a hole in one of the chimneys, I went with a ladder to see if I could procure some more. After much search I found only a single egg, which had been recently laid. It was placed on the bare stone of the wall, surrounded by fragments of small quadrupeds of various kinds. During our search I found a great number of the disgorged pellets of the Owl, among which some were almost fresh. They contained portions of skulls and bones of small quadrupeds unknown to me. I also found the entire skeleton of one of these Owls in excellent condition, and observing a curious bony crest-like expansion on the skull from the base of the cere above to that of the lower mandible, elevated nearly a quarter of an inch from the solid part of the skull, and forming a curve like a horse-shoe, I made an outline of it. On speaking to the officers of the garrison respecting this species of Owl, Lieutenant CONSTANTINE SMITH, a most amiable and intelligent officer of our army, informed me, that, in the months of July and August of that year, these birds bred more abundantly than at the date above stated. Other persons also assured me that, like the House Pigeon, the Barn Owl breeds at all seasons of the year in that part of the country. The statement was farther corroborated by Mr LEE WILLIAMS, a gentleman formerly attached to the topographical department, and who, I believe, has written an excellent account of the eastern portion of the peninsula of the Floridas.

Having arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, in October 1833, as soon as my family and myself were settled in the house of my friend the Reverend JOHN BACHMAN, I received information that a pair of Owls (of the present species) had a nest in the upper story of an abandoned sugar-house in the city, when I immediately proceeded to the place, accompanied by Dr SAMUEL WILSON and WILLIAM KUNHARDT, Esq. We ascended cautiously to the place, I having pulled off my boots to prevent noise. When we reached it I found a sort of large garret filled with sugar-moulds, and lighted by several windows, one of which had two panes broken. I at once discovered the spot where the Owls were, by the hissing sounds of the young ones, and approached slowly and cautiously towards them, until within a few feet, when the parent bird seeing me, flew quickly toward the window, touched the frame of the broken panes, and glided silently through the aperture. I could not even afterwards observe the course of its flight. The young were three in number, and covered with down of a rich cream colour. They raised themselves on their legs, appeared to swell, and emitted a constant hissing sound, somewhat resembling that of a large snake when angry. They continued thus without altering their position, during the whole of our stay, which lasted about twenty minutes. They were on a scattered parcel of bits of straw, and surrounded by a bank made of their ejected pellets. Very few marks of their excrements were on the floor, and they were beautifully clean. A Cotton Rat, newly caught, and still entire, lay beside them, and must have been brought from a distance of several miles, that animal abounding in the rice-fields, none of which, I believe, are nearer than three or four miles. After making some arrangements with the Negro man who kept the house, we returned home. The eggs from which these young Owls had been hatched must have been laid six weeks before this date, or about the 15th of September.

On the 25th of November they had grown much in size, but none of the feathers had yet made their appearance, excepting the primaries, which were now about an inch long, thick, full of blood, and so tender that the least pressure of the fingers might have burst them. As the young grow more and more, the parents feed and attend to them less frequently than when very small, coming to them in the night only with food. This proves the caution of these birds in avoiding danger, and the faculty which the young possess of supporting abstinence in this middle state of their growth.

On the 7th of December I visited the Owls in company with my friend JOHN BACHMAN. We found them much grown; indeed, their primaries were well out; but their back and breast, and all their lower parts, were still thickly covered with down.

On the 6th of January I again saw them, but one of the young was dead, although in good condition. I was surprised that their food still continued to be composed entirely of small quadrupeds, and principally of the rat mentioned above.

My last visit to them was on the 18th of January. The two younger ones were now, to all appearance, fully grown, but were yet unable to fly. A few tufts of down still remained attached to the feathers on scattered parts of the body. I took them home. One was killed, and the skin preserved.

Now, these facts are the more interesting, that none of the numerous European authors with whom I am acquainted, have said a single word respecting the time of breeding of this species, but appear to be more intent on producing long lists of synonyms than on presenting the useful materials from which the student of nature can draw inferences. I shall therefore leave to them to say whether our species is, or is not, the same as the one found in the churches and ruins of Europe. Should it prove to be the same species, and if the European bird breeds, as I suspect it does, at so different a period of the year, the habits of the American Owl will form a kind of mystery in the operations of nature, as they differ not only from those of the bird in question, but of all other Owls with which I am acquainted.

My opinion is, that the Barn Owl of the United States is far more abundant in the Southern Districts than in the other parts. I never found it to the east of Pennsylvania, and only twice in that State, nor did I ever see, or even hear of one in the Western Country; but as soon as I have reached the maritime districts of the Carolinas, Georgia, the Floridas, and all along to Louisiana, the case has always been different. In Cuba they are quite abundant, according to the reports which I have received from that island. I am indeed almost tempted to believe, that the few which have been found in Pennsylvania were bewildered birds, surprised by the coldness of the winter, and perhaps unable to return to the Southern Districts. During my visit to Labrador I neither saw any of these birds, nor found a single person who had ever seen them, although the people to whom I spoke were well acquainted with the Snowy Owl, the Grey Owl, and the Hawk Owl.

THOMAS BUTLER KING, Esq., of St Simon's Island, Georgia, sent me two very beautiful specimens of this Owl, which had been caught alive. One died shortly after their arrival at Charleston; the other was in fine order when I received it. The person to whose care they were consigned, kept them for many weeks at Charleston before I reached that city, and told me that in the night their cries never failed to attract others of the same species, which he observed hovering about the place of their confinement.

This species is altogether nocturnal or crepuscular, and when disturbed during the day, flies in an irregular bewildered manner, as if at a loss how to look for a place of refuge. After long observation, I am satisfied that our bird feeds entirely on the smaller species of quadrupeds, for I have never found any portions of birds about their nests, nor even the remains of a single feather in the pellets which they regurgitate, and which are always formed of the bones and hair of quadrupeds.

Owls which approach to the diurnal species in their habits, or which hunt for food in the morning and evening twilight, are more apt to seize on objects which are themselves more diurnal than otherwise, or than the animals which I have found to form the constant food of our Barn Owl. Thus the Short-eared, the Hawk, the Fork-tailed, the Burrowing, and other Owls, which hunt either during broad day, or mostly towards evening, or at the return of day, will be found to feed more on mixed food than the present species. I have no doubt that the anatomist will detect corresponding differences in the eye, as they have already been found in the ear. The stomach is elongated, almost smooth, and of a deep gamboge-yellow; the intestines small, rather tough, and measuring one foot nine inches in length.

Its flight is light, regular, and much protracted. It passes through the air at an elevation of thirty or forty feet, in perfect silence, and pounces on its prey like a Hawk, often waiting for a fair opportunity from the branch of a tree, on which it alights for the purpose. During day, they are never seen, unless accidentally disturbed, when they immediately try to hide themselves. I am not aware of their having any propensity to fish, as the Snowy Owl has, nor have I ever seen one pursuing a bird. Ever careful of themselves, they retreat to the hollows of trees and such holes as they find about old buildings. When kept in confinement, they feed freely on any kind of flesh, and will stand for hours in the same position, frequently resting on one leg, while the other is drawn close to the body. In this position I watched one on my drawing table for six hours.

This species is never found in the depth of the forests, but confines itself to the borders of the woods around large savannas or old abandoned fields overgrown with briars and rank grass, where its food, which consists principally of field-mice, moles, rats, and other small quadrupeds, is found in abundance, and where large beetles and bats fly in the morning and evening twilight. It seldom occurs at a great distance from the sea. I am not aware that it ever emits any cry or note, as other owls are wont to do; but it produces a hollow hissing sound continued for minutes at a time, which has always reminded me of that given out by an opossum when about to die by strangulation.

When on the ground, this Owl moves by sidelong leaps, with the body much inclined downwards. If wounded in the wing, it yet frequently escapes through the celerity of its motions. Its hearing is extremely acute, and as it marks your approach, instead of throwing itself into an attitude of defence, as Hawks are wont to do, it instantly swells out its plumage, extends its wings and tail, hisses, and clacks its mandibles with force and rapidity. If seized in the hand, it bites and scratches, inflicting deep wounds with its bill and claws.

It is by no means correct to say that this Owl, or indeed any other, always swallows its prey entire: some which I have kept in confinement, have been seen tearing a young hare in pieces with their bills in the manner of hawks; and mice, small rats, or bats, are the largest objects that I have seen them gobble up entire, and not always without difficulty. From having often observed their feet and legs covered with fresh earth, I am inclined to think that they may use them to scratch mice or moles out of their shallow burrows, a circumstance which connects them with the Burrowing Owls of our western plains, which like them have very long legs. In a room their flight is so noiseless that one is surprised to find them removed from one place to another without having heard the least sound. They disgorge their pellets with difficulty, although generally at a single effort, but I did not observe that this action was performed at any regular period. I have mentioned these circumstances, to induce you to examine more particularly the habits of the Barn Owls of Europe and the Southern States of America, that the question of their identity may be decided.

The pair which I have represented were given to me by my friend RICHARD HARLAN, M.D., of Philadelphia. They had been brought from the south, and were fine adult birds in excellent plumage. I have placed a ground squirrel under the feet of one of them, as being an animal on which the species is likely to feed.

STRIX FLAMMEA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 133.—Lath. Index Ornith. vol. i. p. 60.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 38.

WHITE or BARN OWL, STRIX FLAMMEA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vi. p. 57. pl. 50. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual, part ii. p. 139.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 1.

Bill short, compressed, deep, and strong, with a short cere at the base; upper mandible with its dorsal outline straight to the end of the cere, then curved, the sides nearly flat and perpendicular, the edges acute, the tip deflected, with a rounded but sharp-edged point; lower mandible, with the dorsal outline, convex, the sides convex, the edges arched and sharp, the extremity obliquely truncate. Nostrils large, oval, in the fore part of the cere. Head disproportionately large, as are the eyes and external ears. Neck also very short, body rather slender. Legs rather long; tarsus long, feathered, scaly at the lower part; toes large, the hind one short, the inner nearly as long as the middle one; the outer connected by a short web at the base; all covered above with series of small tuberculiform oblong scales, intermixed with a few bristles, and three broad scutella at the end; claws arched, long, rounded above, extremely sharp, that of the middle toe with an edge on the inner sides, which in old birds is transversely cracked.

Plumage very soft and downy, blended above, loose beneath. Long bristly feathers at the base of the bill stretching forwards. Eyes surrounded by circles of loose thin feathers; auricular feathers narrow, recurved and compact at the end, forming a ruff. Wings ample, long; second quill longest, third slightly shorter, first next in length; primaries incurvate towards the end, broad and rounded, the first, as usual in the genus, pectinated. Tail rather short, even, of twelve broad rounded feathers.

Bill pale greyish-yellow or light horn-colour. Iris bluish-black. Scales of the feet and claws brownish-yellow. The general colour above is greyish-brown, with light yellowish-red interspersed, produced by very minute mottling, each feather having towards the end a central streak of deep brown terminated by a small oblong greyish-white spot. The wings are similarly coloured; the secondary coverts and outer edges of the primary coverts with a large proportion of light brownish-red; the quills and tail transversely barred with brown. The face is white, tinged with red, especially near the inner angle of the eye; the ruff of compact feathers light brownish-red. The under parts are pale brownish-red, fading anteriorly into white, each feather having a small dark-brown spot at the tip.

Length 17 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 6 inches; bill along the back 1-8/12; tarsus 3-2/12, middle toe and claw 2-7/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXI. Fig. 2.

The female resembles the male, but is considerably larger.

Length 18 inches, extent of wings 3 feet 8 inches.

This bird is so closely allied to the Barn Owl of Europe, that it is very difficult to characterize the two by any comparative marks. The principal differences are to be found in the size and colouring. The American bird is much larger than the European, as will be seen by the following measurements taken from an adult male.

Length 14 inches, extent of wings 3 feet; bill along the back 1-6/12; tarsus 2⅜, middle toe and claw 2-1/12.

The colouring of the American is much darker than that of the European bird, and in the former the ruff is red, whereas it is usually white in the latter; but as both birds present variations of colour, no stress can be laid on this circumstance. The difference that strikes one most on comparing the two, is the greater size of the American bird, and more especially of its tarsus and toes.

On the whole, although I suspect they will ultimately be found to be different species, I am unable to point out any satisfactory distinctions.

THE GROUND SQUIRREL.

With the exception of the Flying Squirrel, we have no small quadruped more interesting than this. It occurs in all parts of the United States, and being so beautifully marked in its colouring, is known to every body. It seems to me, by the liveliness of its motions, to be among quadrupeds what the Wren is among birds; for, like it, the Ground Squirrel, full of vivacity, plays as it were with the utmost grace and agility among the rocky debris or the uprooted stumps of trees; and its chatter, although less musical than that of the Little Winter Wren, excites a peculiar pleasure as it comes on the ear. I think I see him as he runs before me with the speed of thought, his tail quite erect, his chops distended with the produce of the woods, until he reaches the entrance of his retreat. Now he stands upright, clatters his little chops, and as I move onwards a single step, he disappears in a moment. Stone after stone I have removed from the fence, but in vain, for beneath the whole the cunning creature has formed its deep and circuitous burrow. With my hatchet I cut the tangled roots, and as I follow the animal into its innermost recesses, I hear its angry voice. I am indeed within a few inches of his last retreat, and now I see his large dark protruded eye; but at this moment out he rushes with such speed that it would be vain to follow him. He has twenty burrows all ready prepared, and, delighted with his foresight and sagacity, I willingly leave him unmolested in that to which he has now betaken himself.

The Ground Squirrel varies greatly in its external appearance in different parts of the United States. In the Southern Districts it is smaller than to the eastward, and the farther north you go the lighter are its tints, the differences being at least as great as those between the Barn Owl of America and that of Europe. But the variations are confined to size and intensity of colouring, nor can I perceive any differences indicative of specific distinction. I am not inclined to consider variations of colour sufficient to constitute species, for instance, in the case of the Chimney Swallow of Europe and the Barn Swallow of America; nor is there any reason for believing that very considerable differences in size may not exist in the same species; indeed the fact is very apparent among water birds especially.

THE BLUE-HEADED PIGEON.

COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA, LINN.

PLATE CLXXII. MALE AND FEMALE.

A few of these birds migrate each spring from the Island of Cuba to the Keys of Florida, but are rarely seen, on account of the deep tangled woods in which they live. Early in May 1832, while on a shooting excursion with the commander of the United States Revenue Cutter, the Marion, I saw a pair of them on the western side of Key West. They were near the water, picking gravel, but on our approaching them they ran back into the thickets, which were only a few yards distant. Several fishermen and wreckers informed us that they were more abundant on the "Mule Keys;" but although a large party and myself searched these islands for a whole day, not one did we discover there. I saw a pair which I was told had been caught when young on the latter Keys, but I could not obtain any other information respecting them, than that they were fed on cracked corn and rice, which answered the purpose well.

I have represented three of these Pigeons on the ground, with some of the creeping plants which grew in the place where I saw the pair mentioned above.

COLUMBA CYANOCEPHALA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 282.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 698.

BLUE-HEADED TURTLE, Lath. Synops. vol. iv. p. 651.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXII.

Bill straight, and short, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, a convex declinate obtuse tip, of which the margins are acute and overlapping; lower mandible with the angle near the extremity, which is compressed and rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed; the general form robust, resembling that of many partridges. Legs short and of moderate length; tarsus covered anteriorly and laterally with quincuncial subhexagonal scales, rounded and scaly behind; toes scutellate, free, margined; claws rather small, arched, compressed, flat beneath, obtuse.

Plumage compact all over. Wings short, rounded, third, fourth and fifth quills longest and almost equal; second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth slightly cut out on the outer web. Tail of moderate length, slightly rounded, of twelve broad rounded feathers.

Bill bright blue above, the fleshy parts at the base bright carmine. Iris very dark brown. Scales of the feet carmine, the interspaces white; claws bluish-grey. The general colour of the plumage above is a rich deep chocolate, slightly tinged with olive, beneath brownish-red, lighter on the middle of the breast, the sides and under tail coverts approaching to the tint of the back. The upper part of the head bright blue, encircled by a band of deep black, broader on the occiput, and very narrow in front; a band of white under the eye meeting its fellow on the chin, a broad patch of black on the fore neck, margined with white beneath, and on the sides spotted with bright blue.

Length 12¼ inches, extent of wings 17½; bill along the ridge ½, along the edge 1; tarsus 1¼, middle toe 1¼; weight 10¼ oz.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXII. Fig. 2.

The Female is rather less, but in external appearance resembles the male.

The beautiful Cyperus represented in this plate is quite abundant on all the dry Keys of the Floridas, and is also found in many parts of the interior of the peninsula.

THE BARN SWALLOW.

HIRUNDO RUSTICA, LINN.

PLATE CLXXIII. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.

There is a pleasure known but to few, a pleasure which I have often enjoyed and still enjoy, whenever an opportunity occurs. It is when the heats of summer have already swelled the fruits of our fields, our gardens, and our orchards; when Nature herself benignantly smiles on the rich scenery which she has thus embellished; when the husbandman guides the healthful labours of his sons, and wields the instruments of his humble but important calling from the early dawn to the noontide hour of repose; when the bee herself for a while retires from the honeyed flower, which now languishingly droops on its tender stem; when the cattle recline beneath the broad shade of some majestic tree, and the labourers retire to the banks of some favourite brook to enjoy their frugal meal, and quench their thirst from the limpid waters. Now all is silent, sweet sleep closes their eyes, and nature seems to pause in her labours. But no sooner have the meridian hours passed, than all return to their occupations, and again every thing is full of life and activity.

Observe that passing Swallow, how swiftly she glides around us, how frequently she comes and goes, how graceful her flight, how pleasant her musical twitterings, how happy she seems to be! Now she has again entered the barn. I will follow her into her summer abode, and laying myself down on the fragrant new-mown hay, watch her motions in silence. Ah! over my head a nest is firmly fixed to each rafter; nay on this and that are placed several, and the barn is filled with swallows and their melodies. Happy and charming little creatures! There a female sits on her eggs, and is receiving a store of insects from the mouth of her mate. Having fed her, he solaces her with a soft chattering voice, and away he goes in search of more food. Here is another nest filled to the brim with young birds trimming their new clothing, and shaking their little wings, while their parents approach with a supply of food. See how they open their yellow throats! There, how busily are these two birds occupied in sticking layer after layer of damp sandy earth mixed with bits of grass against the beam! Dear things! their old tenement has crumbled and fallen down, or they are unusually late; but going and returning so often will surely enable them to accomplish their undertaking. Leaving them for a moment, I see some old birds meeting their young on wing. How cleverly have the little things received the proffered fly! and now away for more speeds the happy parent. I wish I could count the number now in the barn; but I cannot unless I ascertain first how many young there are, and then double the quantity of nests to get the number of their parents. I have done so:—there are more than a hundred.

Night now draws near, the sun is beneath the horizon; the farmer has closed the barn door, the Swallows enter by the air-holes; there is still enough of light to enable them to find their nests, and now each has alighted on the edge, and addresses itself to rest. Here are no bickerings, no quarrels; all is peace and harmony, and now, the labours of the day ended, how quiet is their repose! I too may take a nap among the fragrant hay, and dream of the joys of my distant home.

Day-light approaches from the east. All is calm, pure, and delightful. The little birds shoot forth from their retreats, and with songs of joy commence their pleasant labours. What a happy world are they in! Here a smart fellow roguishly challenges his neighbour in all the pride of his full song, or listens for a while to the gentler notes of his beloved mate, while she sits on her pearly egglets. Others have already resorted to the fields, the meadows, or the river's side; and there I will follow them. The dew glitters on every leaf and blade, and the bright sun throws his glory over the face of nature, which joyously spreads out all her treasures before him. The husbandman, who is seen advancing toward the scene of his labours, observes the flight of the Swallows, and assures himself that there will be a continuance of fair feather. Numberless insects have already left their place of rest, and, like the birds, are seen in search of food, swiftly moving through the calm and balmy air. She of the forked-tail follows them with gliding motion, and with unerring dexterity seizes one and another. She seems hardly to exert herself on this occasion; for all her movements, upwards, downwards, or sidewise, are performed with perfect ease, and now she sweeps along like a meteor. How many circuits she makes in the hour is more than I can tell, but numerous indeed they must be, when every one knows that at her ordinary speed she can travel a mile in a minute.

Now, towards the sandy shores of the lake or river, she betakes herself. She alights, and with delicate steps, aiding her motions by gentle flappings of her wings, she advances towards the edge, takes a few drops, plumes herself, and returns to her nest, filling as she flies her wide mouth with insects. Should her nest be not finished, or need some repair, she carries a pellet of tempered earth in her bill, or picks up a feather that has been shed by a goose or a fowl, or from the hay carries off a stem of long grass to mix with the mortar. As the heat becomes oppressive to all animals save herself, she passes and repasses round the cattle under the shady trees, and snaps off each teasing insect. Now on the fence she alights by the side of her offspring, or teaches them to settle on the slender dry twig of some convenient tree. There they plume themselves, chatter, and rest for a while, until, sorry to have lost so much time, they launch into the air, to continue their sport.

The summer has now closed, and the Swallows, young and old, assemble on the roof of the barn, and in a few days are joined by many others, reared in humbler situations. Each parent bird perhaps tells her young that, before dismal winter cramps the insects, they must escape to some far distant land, where the genial heat continues unabated. The talk becomes general, and day after day increases. The course of the journey is pointed out to each inexperienced traveller, by means of short excursions through the air. At length a chill night comes, the following brings a slight frost, the time has arrived, and on the next bright morning the flocks rise high above the trees, and commence their journey.

The Barn Swallow makes its first appearance at New Orleans, from the middle of February to the first of March. They do not arrive in flocks, but apparently in pairs, or a few together, and immediately resort to the places where they have bred before, or where they have been reared. Their progress over the Union depends much on the state of the weather; and I have observed a difference of a whole month, owing to the varying temperature, in their arrival at different places. Thus in Kentucky, Virginia, or Pennsylvania, they now and then do not arrive until the middle of April or the beginning of May. In milder seasons, they reach Massachusetts and the eastern parts of Maine by the 10th of the latter month, when you may rest assured that they are distributed over all the intermediate districts. So hardy does this species seem to be, that I observed it near Eastport in Maine, on the 7th May 1833, in company with the Republican or Cliff Swallow, pursuing its different avocations, while masses of ice hung from every cliff, and the weather felt cold to me. I saw them in the Gut of Cansso on the 10th of June, and on the Magdeleine Islands on the 13th of the same month. They were occupied in building their nests in the open cupola of a church. Not one, however, was observed in Labrador, although many Sand Martins were seen there. On our return, I found at Newfoundland some of the present species, and of the Cliff Swallow, all of which were migrating southward on the 14th of August, when Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at 41°.

In spring, the Barn Swallow is welcomed by all, for she seldom appears before the final melting of the snows and the commencement of mild weather, and is looked upon as the harbinger of summer. As she never commits depredations on any thing that men consider as their own, every body loves her, and, as the child was taught by his parents, so the man teaches his offspring, to cherish her. About a week after the arrival of this species, and when it has already resorted to its wonted haunts, examined its last year's tenement, or made choice of a place to which it may securely fix its nest, it begins either to build or to deposit its eggs.

The nest is attached to the side of a beam or rafter in a barn or shed, under a bridge, or sometimes even in an old well, or in a sink hole, such as those found in the Kentucky barrens. Whenever the situation is convenient and affords sufficient room, you find several nests together, and in some instances I have seen seven or eight within a few inches of each other; nay, in some large barns I have counted forty, fifty, or more. The male and the female both betake themselves to the borders of creeks, rivers, ponds, or lakes, where they form small pellets of mud or moist earth, which they carry in their bill to the chosen spot, and place against the wood, the wall, or the rock, as it may chance to be. They dispose of these pellets in regular layers, mixing, especially with the lower, a considerable quantity of long slender grasses, which often dangle for several inches beneath the bottom of the nest. The first layers are short, but the rest gradually increase in length, as the birds proceed upwards with their work, until they reach the top, when the fabric resembles the section of an inverted cone, the length being eight inches, and the greatest diameter six, while that from the wall or other flat surface to the outside of the shell is three and a half, and the latter is fully an inch thick. I have never observed in a newly finished nest, the expansion of the upper layer mentioned by WILSON, although I have frequently seen it in one that has been repaired or enlarged. The average weight of such a nest as I have described is more than two pounds, but there is considerable difference as to size between different nests, some being shorter by two or three inches, and proportionally narrow at the top. These differences depend much on the time the birds have to construct their tenement previous to depositing the eggs. Now and then I have seen some formed at a late period, that were altogether destitute of the intermixture of grass with the mud observed in the nest described above, which was a perfect one, and had occupied the birds seven days in constructing it, during which period they laboured from sunrise until dusk, with an intermission of several hours in the middle of the day. Within the shell of mud is a bed, several inches thick, of slender grasses arranged in a circular form, over which is placed a quantity of large soft feathers. I never saw one of these nests in a chimney, nor have I ever heard of their occurring in such situations, they being usually occupied by the American Swift, which is a more powerful bird, and may perhaps prevent them from entering. The eggs are from four to six, rather small and elongated, semitranslucent, white, and sparingly spotted all over with reddish-brown. The period of incubation is thirteen days, and both sexes sit, although not for the same length of time, the female performing the greater part of the task. Each provides the other with food on this occasion, and both rest at night beside each other in the nest. In South Carolina, where a few breed, the nest is formed in the beginning of April, and in Kentucky about the first of May.

When the young have attained a considerable size, the parents, who feed them with much care and affection, roost in the nearest convenient place. This species seldom raises more than two broods in the Southern and Middle Districts, and never, I believe, more than one in Maine and farther north. The little ones, when fully fledged, are enticed to fly by their parents, who, shortly after their first essays, lead them to the sides of fields, roads or rivers, where you may see them alight, often not far from each other, on low walls, fence-stakes and rails, or the withered twigs or branches of some convenient tree, generally in the vicinity of a place in which the old birds can easily procure food for them. As the young improve in flying, they are often fed on the wing by the parent birds. On such occasions, when the old and young birds meet, they both rise obliquely in the air, and come close together, when the food is delivered in a moment, and they separate to continue their gambols. In the evening the family retires to the breeding place, to which it usually resorts until the period of their migration.

About the middle of August, the old and young birds form more extensive associations, flying about in loose flocks, which are continually increasing, and alighting in groups on tall trees, churches, court-houses, or barns, where they may be seen for hours pluming and dressing themselves, or removing the small insects which usually infest them. At such times they chirp almost continually, and make sallies of a few hundred yards, returning to the same place. These meetings and rambles often occupy a fortnight, but generally by the 10th of September great flocks have set out for the south, while others are seen arriving from the north. The dawn of a fair morning is the time usually chosen by these birds for their general departure, which I have no reason to believe is prevented by a contrary wind. They are seen moving off without rising far above the tops of the trees or towns over which they pass; and I am of opinion that most of those large parties usually migrate either along the shores of the Atlantic, or along the course of large streams, such places being most likely to afford them suitable retreats at night, when they betake themselves to the reeds and other tall grasses, whenever it is convenient to do so, although I have witnessed their migration during a fine clear and quiet evening. Should they meet with a suitable spot, they alight close together, and for a while twitter loudly, as if to invite approaching flocks or stragglers to join them. In such places I have seen great flocks of this species in East Florida;—and here, reader, I may tell you that the fogs of that latitude seem not unfrequently to bewilder their whole phalanx. One morning, whilst on board the United States Schooner "Spark," Lieutenant commandant PIERCEY and the officers directed my attention to some immense flocks of these birds flying only a few feet above the water for nearly an hour, and moving round the vessel as if completely lost. But when the morning is clear, these Swallows rise in a spiral manner from the reeds to the height of thirty or forty yards, extend their ranks, and continue their course.

I found flocks of Barn Swallows near St Augustine for several days in succession, until the beginning of December; but after the first frost none were to be seen. These could not have removed many degrees farther south for want of proper food, and I suspect that numbers of them spend the whole winter along the south coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

The flight of this species is not less interesting than any other of its characteristics. It probably surpasses in speed that of any other species of the feathered tribes, excepting the Humming Bird. In fine calm weather their circuits are performed at a considerable elevation, with a lightness and ease that are truly admirable. They play over the river, the field, or the city with equal grace, and during spring and summer you might imagine their object was to fill the air around them with their cheerful twitterings. When the weather lowers, they move more swiftly in tortuous meanderings over the meadows, and through the streets of the towns; they pass and repass, now close to the pavement, now along the walls of the buildings, here and there snapping an insect as they glide along with a motion so rapid that you can scarcely follow them with the eye. But try:—there she skims against the wind over the ruffled stream; up she shoots, seizes an insect, and wheeling round, sails down the breeze with a rapidity that carries her out of your sight almost in a moment. Noon arrived, and the weather being sultry, round the horse or the cow she passes a thousand times, seizing on each tormenting fly. Now she seems fain to enter the wood, so close along its edge does she pursue her prey; but spying a Crow, a Raven, a Hawk or an Eagle, off she shoots with doubled speed after the marauder, and the next instant is seen lashing, as it were, the object of her anger with admirable dexterity, after which, full of gaiety and pride the tiny thing returns towards the earth, forming to herself a most tortuous path in the air.

On the ground the movements of this Swallow are by no means awkward, although, when compared with those of other birds, they seem rather hampered. It walks by very short steps, and aids itself with its wings. Should it be necessary to remove to the distance of a few yards, it prefers flying. When alighted on a twig, it shews a peculiar tremulous motion of the wings and tail.

The song of our Barn Swallow resembles that of the Chimney Swallow of England so much that I am unable to discern the smallest difference. Both sing on the wing and when alighted, and the common tweet which they utter when flying off is precisely the same in both. Their food also is similar; at least that of our bird consists entirely of insects, some being small coleoptera, the crustaceous parts of which are disgorged in roundish pellets scarcely the size of a small pea.

I have represented a pair of our Barn Swallows in the most perfect spring plumage, together with a nest taken from one of the rafters of a barn in the State of New Jersey, in which there was at least a score of them.

HIRUNDO RUSTICA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 343.

HIRUNDO RUFA, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 64.—Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 601.

BARN SWALLOW, HIRUNDO AMERICANA, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. v. p. 34. pl. 38. fig. 1, 2.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.- Amer. part ii. p. 329.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 1.

Bill very short, feeble, much depressed and very broad at the base, compressed towards the tip, upper mandible with the ridge straight and sloping, the sides towards the end convex, the edges sharp and overlapping, having a slight notch close upon the tip, which is very small, rather obtuse, and declinate; lower mandible flattish, the edges inflected, the tip acute. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, with a membrane above. Head of ordinary size, neck short, body rather slender. Feet very small and feeble, tarsus very short, anteriorly scutellate, sharp behind; toes free, lateral nearly equal, the outer united as far as the second joint; claws shortish, arched, much compressed, very acute.

Plumage rather compact and shining above, blended and with ordinary lustre beneath. Wings very long and narrow, primaries narrow and tapering to a rounded point, the first longest, the rest gradually diminishing; secondaries very short, truncato-emarginate.

Bill black. Iris hazel. Feet purplish-black. Anterior part of the forehead bright chestnut; the rest of the head, the hind neck, back, rump and smaller wing-coverts glossy deep steel-blue. Quills and tail brownish-black, the latter with a white spot on the inner web of each feather, excepting the two middle ones. Throat bright chestnut; a broad band of black glossed with steel-blue on the lower part of the neck, joining the dark colour of the upper parts. The rest of the lower parts light brownish-red.

Length 7 inches, extent of wings 13; bill along the back 3/12, along the edge 7/12; tarsus 4/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXIII. Fig. 2.

The Female differs from the Male only in being generally paler beneath.

The young bird fully fledged has the red of the forehead and throat paler, the band on the forepart of the breast brownish-black, without gloss, and the rest of the lower parts white tinged with red.

There is considerable diversity in the colouring of the under parts of this bird. Frequently there is a broad band of steel-blue across the neck or fore part of the breast, in other cases this band is narrow, or interrupted in the middle, or wanting, as in the individuals represented in the plate. The rufous colour of the breast, sides and belly varies from reddish-white in young birds to bright brownish-red in old ones. In the former case it is singular to the colour of the European Chimney Swallow, which, on the other hand, never has those parts so deeply tinted as in the latter case. The bill and feet of the two are precisely similar as are the colours of the upper parts; but in the European bird, the dark band on the fore part of the breast is much broader, the first and second primaries are almost equal, although the first is longest, and the lateral tail-feathers are more elongated. These differences do not seem to me to be sufficient to distinguish the two birds as species, and the similarity of their habits renders them too nearly allied to be separated with propriety.

The differences in colour between the European Chimney Swallow and the American Barn Swallow, are analogous to those between the Barn Owl of the former and that of the latter country. The Swallows and the Owls may be distinct species; but I see no reason for separation in the one case more than in the other; and if the so called Hirundo Americana be distinguished from the H. rustica, the Strix flammea ought to be distinguished from the American Owl, which might in that case be named Strix Americana. But let the differences first be shewn.

THE OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER.

MUSCICAPA COOPERI, NUTTALL. TYRANNUS BOREALIS, SWAINS.

PLATE CLXXIV. MALE AND FEMALE.

It is difficult, for me at least, to understand how we should now have in the United States so many birds which, not more than twenty years ago, were nowhere to be found in those countries. Of these new-comers the Olive-sided Flycatcher is one, and one, too, whose size and song render it very conspicuous among its kindred. That birds should thus suddenly make their appearance, and at once diffuse themselves over almost the whole of the country, is indeed a very curious fact; and were similar changes to take place in the other tribes of animals, and in other countries, the arrangements of systematic writers would have to undergo corresponding revolutions, a circumstance which would tend to add to the confusion arising from the continual shiftings, combinations, disseverings, abrasions of names, and alterations of method, which the interpreters of nature are pleased to dignify with the name of science.

The discovery of this species is due to my amiable and learned friend NUTTALL, part of whose account of its habits I have pleasure in laying before you. When, a few years ago, I rambled, as I do now, in quest of knowledge, scarcely an individual could be found in the United States conversant with birds. At the present day there are several, with whom I am personally acquainted, who have fully proved their zeal and activity, by their discoveries and descriptions. It is enough for me to mention here the well known names of BONAPARTE, NUTTALL, COOPER, BACHMAN, PICKERING, OAKS, and TOWNSEND, whose labours demonstrate the rapid advance of science in our country, and whose works will endure for ages.

On the 8th of August 1832, while walking out from Boston towards the country seat of the Honourable THOMAS H. PERKINS, along with my friend NUTTALL, we were suddenly saluted with the note of this bird. As I had never seen it, I leaped over the fence beside us, and cautiously approached the tree on which a male was perched and singing. Desiring my friend to go in search of a gun, I watched the motions of the devoted bird. He returned with a large musket, a cow's horn filled with powder, and a handful of shot nearly as large as peas; but just as I commenced charging this curious piece, I discovered that it was flintless! We were nearly a mile distant from Mr PERKINS' house, but as we were resolved to have the bird, we proceeded to it with all dispatch, procured a gun, and returning to the tree, found the Flycatcher, examined its flight and manners for a while, and at length shot it. As the representative of a species, I made a drawing of this individual, which you will find copied in the plate indicated above. But now let us attend to NUTTALL'S account.

"This undescribed species, which appertains to the group of Pewees, was obtained in the woods of Sweet Auburn, in this vicinity, by Mr JOHN BETHUNE of Cambridge, on the 7th of June 1830. This and the second specimen acquired soon afterwards, were females on the point of incubation. A third individual of the same sex was killed on the 21st of June 1831. They were all of them fat, and had their stomach filled with torn fragments of wild bees, wasps, and other similar insects. I have watched the motions of two other living individuals, who appeared tyrannical and quarrelsome, even with each other. The attack was always accompanied with a whining querulous twitter. Their dispute was apparently, like that of savages, about the rights of their respective hunting-grounds. One of the birds, the female, whom I usually saw alone, was uncommonly sedentary. The territory she seemed determined to claim was circumscribed by the tops of a cluster of Virginian junipers or red cedars, and an adjoining elm and decayed cherry-tree. From this sovereign station, in the solitude of a barren and sandy piece of forest, adjoining Sweet Auburn, she kept a sharp look-out for passing insects, and pursued them with great vigour and success as soon as they appeared, sometimes chasing them to the ground, and generally resuming her perch with an additional mouthful, which she swallowed at leisure. On ascending to her station, she occasionally quivered her wings and tail, erected her blowzy cap, and kept up a whistling, oft-repeated, whining call, of pŭ, pŭ, then varied to pŭ, pip, and pip, pŭ, also at times pip, pip, pŭ, pip, pip, pip, pŭ, pŭ, pip, or tŭ, tŭ, tŭ, and sometimes tŭ, tŭ. This shrill, pensive, and quick whistle, sometimes dropped almost to a whisper, or merely pŭ. The tone is, in fact, much like that of the phŭ, phŭ, phŭ, of the Fish Hawk. The male, however, besides this note, at long intervals had a call of eh phèbēē, or h'phebéă, almost exactly in the tone of the circular tin whistle or bird call, being loud, shrill, and guttural at the commencement. The nest of this pair I at length discovered in the horizontal branch of a tall red cedar, forty or fifty feet from the ground. It was formed much in the manner of the King-bird's, externally made of interlaced dead twigs of the cedar, internally of wiry stolons of the common cinquefoil, dry grass, and some fragments of branching lichen or usnea. It contained three young, and had probably four eggs. The eggs had been hatched about the 20th of June, so that the pair had arrived in this vicinity about the close of May. The young remained in the nest no less than twenty-three days, and were fed from the first on beetles and perfect insects, which appeared to have been wholly digested, without any regurgitation. Towards the close of this protracted period, the young could fly with all the celerity of their parents, and they probably went to and from the nest before abandoning it. The male was at this time extremely watchful, and frequently followed me from his usual residence, after my paying him a visit, nearly half a mile. These birds, which I watched on several successive days, were no way timid, and allowed me for some time previous to visiting their nest, to investigate them and the premises they had chosen, without showing any sign of alarm or particular observation."

I received from my friend the following additional account, in a letter dated September 12. 1833. "Something serious has happened to our pair of the new Flycatchers (Muscicapa Cooperi), which have for three years at least, bred and passed the summer in the grounds of Mount Auburn. This summer they were no longer seen. It is true they were not very well used last year; for, in the first place, I took two of the four eggs they had laid, when they deserted the nest, and soon, within little more than a stone's-throw, they renewed their labours, and made a second, which was also visited; but from this I believe they raised a small brood. The nest, as before, was placed on a horizontal branch of a red cedar, and made chiefly of the smallest interlaced twigs collected from the dead limbs of the same tree, in all cases so thin, like that of the Tanager, as to let the light readily through its interstices. An egg you have, which, as to size, so completely resembles that of the Wood Pewee, as to make one and the same description serve for both; that is to say, a yellowish cream-white, with spots of reddish-brown, of a light and dark shade. All the nests, three in number, were within 150 yards of each other respectively. I saw another pair once in a small piece of dry pine wood in Mount Auburn one year; but they did not stay long. A third pair I saw the summer before the last, on the edge of the marsh towards West Cambridge Pond; these appeared resident. The next pair I had the rare good fortune to see in your company, by which means they have been masterly figured. It is beyond a doubt M. borealis of RICHARDSON, but I believe Mr COOPER and myself discovered it previously, at least before the appearance of Dr RICHARDSON'S Northern Zoology."

In the course of my journey farther eastward, I found this species here and there in Massachusetts and the State of Maine, as far as Mars Hill, and subsequently on the Magdeleine Islands, and the coast of Labrador; but I have not yet been able to discover its line of migration, or the time of its arrival in the Southern States.

MUSCICAPA INORNATA, Nuttall, Nat. Sci. Philad.

TYRANNUS BOREALIS, NORTHERN TYRANT, Swains. and Richards. Fauna Bor.-Amer. part ii. p. 141.

OLIVE-SIDED FLYCATCHER or PE-PE, MUSCICAPA COOPERI, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 282.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXIV. Fig. 1.

Bill of moderate length, stout, straight, broad at the base, and tapering, compressed only close to the tip; both mandibles with the dorsal line very slightly convex, the sides rounded, the edges nearly straight, sharp, inclinate; a slight notch close to the small deflected tip. Nostrils basal, lateral, roundish, partly covered by the bristly feathers. Head rather large, neck short, body rather slender. Feet short; tarsus compressed, covered anteriorly with a few broad scutella; toes of moderate size, the hind one not proportionally larger, the inner a little shorter than the outer; claws rather long, arched, much compressed, very acute.

Plumage soft and blended, with little gloss. Strong bristles at the base of the upper mandible. Wings rather long, second quill longest, first longer than third, second and third slightly cut out on the outer web; the primaries tapering and rounded. Tail of ordinary length, emarginate, of twelve rounded feathers.

Bill blackish-brown above, the lower mandible brownish-yellow, with the tip dusky. Iris dark hazel. Feet dusky, claws brownish-black. The whole upper parts, with the cheeks and sides of the neck, dusky brown; quills and tail blackish-brown, the secondaries margined with brownish-white. A stripe of greyish-white runs down the fore-neck from the bill, and joins the white of the breast and abdomen, the latter being tinged with yellow; the sides dusky grey.

Length 7½ inches, extent of wings 12¾; bill along the ridge 8/12, along the edge 1-3/12; tarsus 7/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXIV. Fig. 2.

The Female resembles the Male, but has the lower parts of a duller hue.

This species is nearly allied to the King Bird and the Grey Tyrant, from both of which, however, it is readily distinguished.

THE BALSAM OR SILVER FIR.

PINUS BALSAMEA, Willd. Sp. Pl. vol. iv. p. 504. Pursh, Fl. Amer. Sept. vol. ii. p. 639.—ABIES BALSAMIFERA, Mich. Fl. Amer. vol. ii. p. 207.—MONŒCIA MONADELPHIA, Linn. CONIFERÆ, Juss.

This beautiful fir is abundant in the State of Maine, where I made a drawing of the twig before you. It grows on elevated rocky ground, often near streams or rivers. Its general form is conical, the lower branches coming off horizontally near the ground, and the succeeding ones becoming gradually more oblique, until the uppermost are nearly erect. The leaves and cones become so resinous in autumn, that, in climbing one of these trees, a person is besmeared with the excreted juice, which is then white, transparent, and almost fluid. The leaves are solitary, flat, emarginate, or entire, bright green above, and glaucous or silvery beneath; the cones cylindrical, erect, with short obovate, serrulate, mucronate scales. It is abundant in the British provinces, the Northern States, and in the higher parts of the Alleghany Mountains. The height does not exceed fifty feet. The bark is smooth, the wood light and resinous. The resin is collected and sold under the names of Balm of Gilead and Canada Balsam.

NUTTALL'S SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN.

TROGLODYTES BREVIROSTRIS, NUTTALL.

PLATE CLXXV. MALE, FEMALE, AND NEST.

I hope, kind reader, you will approve of the liberty which I have taken in prefixing the name of the learned NUTTALL to the present species, which was discovered by his indefatigable and enthusiastic devotion to science, in a country where WILSON, BONAPARTE, BACHMAN, PICKERING, COOPER, SAY, and others had already exerted themselves to the utmost in their endeavours to complete its diversified and interesting Fauna. I hope, too, that you will allow me to present you with the history of this sweet little inhabitant of our freshwater marshes, as given by my friend, who at this moment is toiling with all imaginable spirit, far towards the west, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. In granting my request, you will confer on me a favour, truly acceptable, as it enables me to testify the friendship which I feel towards him of whom I have spoken.

"This amusing and not unmusical little species inhabits the lowest marshy meadows, but does not frequent the reed flats. It never visits cultivated grounds, and is at all times shy, timid, and suspicious. It arrives in this part of Massachusetts about the close of the first week in May, and retires to the south by the middle of September at farthest, probably by night, as it is never seen in progress, so that its northern residence is only prolonged about four months.

"Its presence is announced by its lively and quaint song of tsh, tship, ă dăy, dăy, dăy, dăy, delivered in haste and earnest at short intervals, either when he is mounted on a tuft of sedge, or while perched on some low bush near the skirt of the marsh. The tsh, tship is uttered with a strong aspiration, and the remainder with a guttural echo. While thus engaged, his head and tail are alternately depressed and elevated, as if the little odd performer were fixed on a pivot. Sometimes the note varies to tschip, tschip, tshia, dh, dh, dh, dh, the latter part being a pleasant trill.

"When approached too closely, which not often happened, as he permitted me to come within two or three feet of his station, his song becomes harsh and more hurried, like tship, dă, dă, dă, and de, de, de, de, d, d, dh, or tshe, de, de, de, de, rising into an angry petulant cry, which is also sometimes a low hoarse and scolding daigh, daigh. Then again on invading the nest, the sound sinks to a plaintive tsh, tship, tsh, tship. In the early part of the breeding season, the male is very lively and musical, and in his best humour he tunes up a tship, tship, tship, ā dee, with a pleasantly warbled and reiterated de. At a later period, another male uttered little else than a hoarse and guttural daigh, hardly louder than the croaking of a frog. When approached, they repeatedly descend into the grass, where they spend much of their time, in quest of insects, chiefly crustaceous, which, with moths, constitute their principal food. Here unseen they still sedulously utter their quaint warbling; and tship, tship, a day, day, day, day, may, for about a month from their arrival, be heard pleasantly echoing on a fine morning, from the borders of every low marsh, and wet meadow, provided with tussocks of sedge grass, in which they indispensably dwell, for a time engaged in the cares and gratification of raising and providing for their young.

"The nest of the Short-billed Marsh Wren is made wholly of dry or partly green sedge, bent usually from the top of the grassy tuft in which the fabric is situated. With much ingenuity and labour these simple materials are loosely entwined together into a spherical form, with a small and rather obscure entrance left on the side. A thin lining is sometimes added to the whole, of the linty fibres of the silk-weed, or some other similar material. The eggs, pure white, and destitute of spots, are probably from six to eight. In a nest containing seven eggs, there were three of them larger than the rest, and perfectly fresh, while the four smaller were far advanced towards hatching. From this circumstance we may fairly infer that two different individuals had laid in the same nest, a circumstance more common among wild birds than is generally imagined. This is also the more remarkable, as the male of this species, like many other Wrens, is much employed in making nests, of which not more than one in three or four are ever occupied by the females!

"The summer limits of this species, confounded with the ordinary Marsh Wren, are yet unascertained; and it is singular to remark how near it approaches to another species inhabiting the temperate parts of the southern hemisphere in America, namely the Sylvia platensis, figured and indicated by BUFFON. The description, however, of this bird, obtained by COMMERSON, on the banks of La Plata, is too imperfect for certainty. It was found probably in a marshy situation, as it entered the boat in which he was sailing. The time of arrival and departure of this species, agreeing exactly with the appearance of the Marsh Wren of WILSON, inclines me to believe that it also exists in Pennsylvania."

While in New Jersey, in the summer of 1832, after I had become acquainted with this species through NUTTALL, I spent several days in searching the freshwater marshes, often waist-deep in mud, in the hopes of procuring it; but my efforts, as well as those of my friend EDWARD HARRIS, Esq. and my sons, were unsuccessful. I therefore concluded that it probably does not exist in that district. This is certainly strange, for it is very abundant in South Carolina, where the Rev. JOHN BACHMAN, myself, and others, have often seen it. Nay, I am of opinion that it spends the winter there, as well as in the Floridas, as I shot several individuals in February 1833, nine miles from Charleston, at a distance from any river, and on high, usually dry plains, at that season partially covered with water. They did not rise, until we had almost walked upon them, and could be shot only on wing, as they flew directly off at the height of a few inches above the grass, and alighted on the first bunch as abruptly as if they had been shot. They then emitted a single rough grating note, quite distinct from that of any other Wren. About this time I received from NUTTALL a letter, which completes the history of this diminutive species.

"Concerning the Short-billed Marsh Wren of which you inquired, I have but little to add to what I have already published; but it is for you to fill up the history of its summer migrations. Did you find it in Maine or Labrador? This season they have been more than usually abundant. Last year (1832) I saw extremely few, and believe many were famished, or some way destroyed by the long continuance of our spring rains. This year (1833) also, several pairs of Marsh Wrens have been seen occupied in making their nests in the reeds, on the margin of Fresh Pond, in our vicinity. These nests are suspended; those of the short-billed species always repose directly on the surface of the sedgy tussock of which they are made. The young are easily approached, appearing, by the placid innocence of their manner, as if wholly unconscious of danger. Coleopterous insects are the principal food of the species. I heard once or twice this season, the anxious guttural bubbling sound attributed to the Marsh Wren, mentioned by WILSON. The Short-billed species and the Common, now near the time of their departure for the south, frequent the reeds by Fresh Pond, in little roving companies.—Cambridge, September 12. 1833."

SHORT-BILLED MARSH WREN, TROGLODYTES BREVIROSTRIS, Nuttall, Manual, part i. p. 436.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXV. Fig. 1.

Bill of moderate length, slender, nearly straight, acute, subtrigonal at the base, compressed towards the end; upper mandible with the dorsal outline slightly arched, the sides convex towards the end, the edges sharp, the tip narrow but rather obtuse; lower mandible also much compressed, with the dorsal line straight, the sides nearly erect and slightly rounded, the sharp edges inflected. Nostrils basal, lateral, oblong, with an arched membrane above, open and bare. Head rather compressed, neck and body short. Legs of ordinary length; tarsus compressed, anteriorly covered with six scutella, posteriorly with a long plate forming a sharp edge; toes scutellate above, the second and fourth nearly equal, the hind toe much stronger, with a much larger claw, the third and fourth united as far as the second joint; claws arched, much compressed, acute.

Plumage soft and blended. No bristly feathers about the bill. Wings short, broad, rounded, first quill about half the length of the second, which is considerably shorter than the third, fourth, and fifth, which are nearly equal, the fourth, however, being the longest. Tail of ordinary length, graduated, of twelve narrow rounded feathers.

Bill dusky above, pale brownish-yellow beneath. Iris dark hazel. Feet pale flesh-colour. The upper parts are blackish-brown, each feather with a brownish-white line along the shaft, and the outer edge towards the end reddish-brown. Wings dusky, the outer edges barred with pale yellowish-brown on the outer webs. Upper tail-coverts and tail similarly barred. Throat and central part of the breast greyish-white, the rest of the lower parts pale reddish-brown, the sides under the wings faintly barred with dusky.

Length 4⅜ inches, extent of wings 5⅝; bill along the ridge 4½/12, along the edge 6/12; tarsus 8½/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXV. Fig. 2.

The female resembles the male, and the young birds are distinguishable only by having the bill shorter, and the lower parts more tinged with red.

The Long-billed Marsh Wren is very closely allied to the present species, and the two form part of a group which VIEILLOT distinguishes by the name of Thyrothorus.

A MOOSE HUNT.

In the spring of 1833, the Moose were remarkably abundant in the neighbourhood of the Schoodiac Lakes; and, as the snow was so deep in the woods as to render it almost impossible for them to escape, many of them were caught. About the 1st of March 1833, three of us set off on a hunt, provided with snow-shoes, guns, hatchets, and provisions for a fortnight. On the first day we proceeded fifty miles, in a sledge drawn by one horse, to the nearest lake, where we stopped for the night, in the hut of an Indian named LEWIS, of the Passamaquody tribe, and who has abandoned the wandering life of his race, and turned his attention to farming and lumbering. Here we saw the operation of making snow-shoes, which requires more skill than one might imagine. The men generally make the bows to suit themselves, and the women weave in the threads, which are usually made of the skin of the Karaboo deer.

The next day we went on foot sixty-two miles farther, when a heavy rain-storm coming on, we were detained a whole day. The next morning we put on snow-shoes, and proceeded about thirteen miles, to the head of the Musquash Lake, where we found a camp, which had been erected by some lumberers in the winter, and here we established our head-quarters. In the afternoon an Indian had driven a female moose-deer, and two young ones of the preceding year, within a quarter of a mile of our camp, when he was obliged to shoot the old one. We undertook to procure the young alive, and after much exertion succeeded in getting one of them, and shut it up in the shed made for the oxen; but as the night was falling, we were compelled to leave the other in the woods. The dogs having killed two fine deer that day, we feasted upon some of their flesh, and upon Moose, which certainly seemed to us the most savoury meat we had ever eaten, although a keen appetite is very apt to warp one's judgment in such a case. After supper we laid ourselves down before the huge fire we had built up, and were soon satisfied that we had at last discovered the most comfortable mode of sleeping.

In the morning we started off on the track of a Moose, which had been driven from its haunt or yard by the Indians the day before; and, although the snow was in general five feet deep, and in some places much deeper, we travelled three miles before we came to the spot where the Moose had rested for the night. He had not left this place more than an hour, when we came to it. So we pushed on faster than before, trusting that ere long we should overtake him. We had proceeded about a mile and a half farther, when he took a sudden turn, which threw us off his track, and when we again found it, we saw that an Indian had taken it up and gone in pursuit of the harassed animal. In a short time we heard the report of a gun, and immediately running up, we saw the Moose standing in a thicket wounded, when we brought him down. The animal finding himself too closely pursued, had turned upon the Indian, who fired and instantly ran into the bushes to conceal himself. It was three years old, and consequently not nearly grown, although already about six feet and a half in height.

It is difficult to conceive how an animal could have gone at such a rate, when the snow was so deep, with a thick crust at top. In one place he had followed the course of a brook, over which the snow had sunk considerably on account of the higher temperature of the water, and we had an opportunity of seeing evidence of the great power which the species possesses in leaping over objects that obstruct his way. There were places in which the snow had drifted to so great a height, that you would have imagined it impossible for any animal to leap over it, and yet we found that he had done so at a single bound, without leaving the least trace. As I did not measure these snow-heaps, I cannot positively say how high they were, but I am well persuaded that some of them were ten feet.

We proceeded to skin and dress the Moose, and buried the flesh under the snow, where it will keep for weeks. On opening the animal we were surprised to see the great size of the lungs and heart, compared with the contents of the abdomen. The heart was certainly larger than that of any animal which I had seen. The head bears a great resemblance to that of a horse, but the "muffle" is more than twice as large, and when the animal is irritated or frightened, it projects that part much farther than usual. It is stated in some descriptions of the Moose, that he is short-winded and tender-footed, but he certainly is capable of long-continued and very great exertion, and his feet, for any thing that I have seen to the contrary, are as hard as those of any other quadruped. The young Moose was so exhausted and fretted, that it offered no opposition to us as we led it to the camp; but in the middle of the night we were awakened by a great noise in the hovel, and found that as it had in some measure recovered from its terror and state of exhaustion, it began to think of getting home, and was now much enraged at finding itself so securely imprisoned. We were unable to do any thing with it, for if we merely approached our hands to the openings of the hut, it would spring at us with the greatest fury, roaring and erecting its mane in a manner that convinced us of the futility of all attempts to save it alive. We threw to it the skin of a deer, which it tore to pieces in a moment. This individual was a yearling, and about six feet high. When we went to look for the other, which we had left in the woods, we found that he had "taken his back-track," or retraced his steps, and gone to the "beat," about a mile and a half distant, and which it may be interesting to describe.

At the approach of winter, parties of Moose Deer, from two to fifty in number, begin to lessen their range, and proceed slowly to the south side of some hill, where they feed within still narrower limits, as the snows begin to fall. When it accumulates on the ground, the snow, for a considerable space, is divided into well trodden, irregular paths, in which they keep, and browse upon the bushes at the sides, occasionally striking out a new path, so that, by the spring, many of those made at the beginning of winter are obliterated. A "yard" for half a dozen Moose would probably contain about twenty acres.

A good hunter, although still a great way off, will not only perceive that there is a yard in the vicinity, but can tell the direction in which it lies, and even be pretty sure of the distance. It is by the marks on the trees that he discovers this circumstance; he finds the young maple, and especially the moose-wood and birch, with the bark gnawed off to the height of five or six feet on one side, and the twigs bitten, with the impression of the teeth left in such a manner, that the position of the animal when browsing on them may be ascertained. Following the course indicated by these marks, the hunter gradually finds them more distinct and frequent, until at length he arrives at the yard; but there he finds no moose, for long before he reaches the place, their extremely acute smell and hearing warn them of his approach when they leave the yard, generally altogether, the strongest leading in one track, or in two or three parties. When pursued they usually separate, except the females, which keep with their young, and go before to break the track for them; nor will they leave them under any circumstances until brought down by their ruthless pursuers. The males, especially the old ones, being quite lean at this season, go off at great speed, and unless the snow is extremely deep, soon outstrip the hunters. They usually go in the direction of the wind, making many short turns to keep the scent, or to avoid some bad passage; and although they may sink to the bottom at every step, they cannot be overtaken in less than three or four days. The females, on the contrary, are remarkably fat, and it is not at all unfrequent to find in one of them a hundred pounds of raw tallow. But let us return to the young buck, which had regained the yard.

We found him still more untractable than the female we had left in the hovel; he had trodden down the snow for a small space around him, which he refused to leave, and would spring with great fury at any one who approached the spot too near; and as turning on snow-shoes is not an easy operation, we were content to let him alone, and try to find one in a better situation for capture, knowing that if we did eventually secure him, he would probably in the struggle injure himself too much to live. I have good reason to believe that the only practicable mode of taking them uninjured, except when they are very young, is, when they are exhausted and completely defenceless, to bind them securely, and keep them so till they have become pacified and convinced of the uselessness of any attempt at resistance. If allowed to exert themselves as they please, they almost always kill themselves, as we found by experience.

On the following day we again set out, and coming across the tracks of two young bucks, which had been started by the Indians, we pursued them, and in two or three miles overtook them. As it was desirable to obtain them as near the camp as possible, we attempted to steer them that way. For a while we succeeded very well in our scheme, but at last one of them, after making many ineffectual attempts to get another way, turned upon his pursuer, who, finding himself not very safe, felt obliged to shoot him. His companion, who was a little more tractable, we drove on a short way, but as he had contrived to take many turnings, he could approach us on his back-track too swiftly, so that we were compelled to shoot him also. We "dressed" them, taking with us the tongues and muffles, which are considered the most delicate parts.

We had not walked more than a quarter of a mile, when we perceived some of the indications before mentioned, which we followed for half a mile, when we came across a yard, and, going round it, we found where the Moose had left it, though we afterwards learned that we had missed a fine buck, which the dogs, however, afterwards discovered. We soon overtook a female with a young one, and were not long in sight of them when they stood at bay. It is really wonderful how soon they beat down a hard space in the snow to stand upon, when it is impossible for a dog to touch them, as they stamp so violently with their fore feet, that it is certain death to approach them. This Moose had only one calf with her, and on opening her we perceived that she would only have had one the next year, though the usual number is two, almost invariably a male and a female. We shot them with ball through the brain.

The Moose bears a considerable resemblance to the horse in his conformation, and in his disposition a still greater, having much of the sagacity as well as viciousness of that animal. We had an opportunity of observing the wonderful acuteness of its hearing and smelling. As we were standing by one, he suddenly erected his ears, and put himself on the alert, evidently aware of the approach of some person. About ten minutes after one of our party came up, who must have been at the time at least half a mile off, and the wind was from the Moose towards him.

This species of Deer feeds on the hemlock, cedar, fir or pine, but will not touch the spruce. It also eats the twigs of the maple, birch, and soft shoots of other trees. In the autumn they may be enticed by imitating their peculiar cry, which is described as truly frightful. The hunter gets up into a tree, or conceals himself in some other secure place, and imitates this cry by means of a piece of birch-bark rolled up to give the proper tone. Presently he hears the Moose come dashing along, and when he gets near enough, takes a good aim, and soon dispatches him. It is very unsafe to stand within reach of the animal, for he would certainly endeavour to demolish you.

A full grown male Moose is said to measure nine feet in height, and with his immense branching antlers presents a truly formidable appearance. Like the Virginian Deer and the male Karaboo, they shed their horns every year about the beginning of December. The first year their horns are not dropped in spring. When irritated the Moose makes a great grinding with his teeth, erects his mane, lays back his ears, and stamps with violence. When disturbed he makes a hideous whining noise, much in the manner of the Camel.

In that wild and secluded part of the country, seldom visited but by the Indians, the Common Deer were without number, and it was with great difficulty that we kept the dogs with us, as they were continually meeting with "beats." In its habits that species greatly resembles the Moose. The Karaboo has a very broad flat foot, and can spread it on the snow to the fetlock, so as to be able to run on a crust scarcely hard enough to bear a dog. When the snow is soft, they keep in immense droves around the margin of the large lakes, to which they betake themselves when pursued, the crust being much harder there than elsewhere. When it becomes more firm, they strike into the woods. As they possess such facility of running on snow, they do not require to make any yards, and consequently have no fixed place in the winter. The speed of this animal is not well known, but I am inclined to believe it much greater than that of the fleetest horse.

In our camp we saw great numbers of Crossbills, Grosbeaks, and various other small birds. Of the first of these were two species, which were very tame, and alighted on our hut with the greatest familiarity. We caught five or six at once under a snow-shoe. The Pine-Martin and Wild Cat were also very abundant.

THE SPOTTED OR CANADA GROUS.

TETRAO CANADENSIS, LINN.

PLATE CLXXVI. MALE AND FEMALE.

No sooner had I entered the State of Maine, than I considered the Canada Grous as one of the principal objects of my inquiry. Every person to whom I spoke about it, assured me that it was rather abundant during the whole year, and consequently that it bred in the country. All this fortunately proved to be quite true, but no one told me of the difficulties I should have to encounter in watching its habits; and although I ultimately succeeded in this, the task was perhaps as severe as any which I ever undertook.

In August 1832, I reached the delightful little village of Dennisville, about eighteen miles distant from Eastport. There I had the good fortune of becoming an inmate of the kind and most hospitable family of Judge LINCOLN, who has resided there for nearly half a century, and who is blessed with a family of sons equal to any with whom I am acquainted, for talents, perseverance and industry. Each of these had his own peculiar avocation, and I naturally attached myself more particularly to one who ever since his childhood has manifested a decided preference for ornithological pursuits. This young gentleman, THOMAS LINCOLN, offered to lead me to those retired woods where the Spruce Partridges were to be found. We accordingly set out on the 27th of August, my two sons accompanying us. THOMAS, being a perfect woodsman, advanced at our head, and I can assure you, reader, that to follow him through the dense and tangled woods of his native country, or over the deep mosses of Labrador, where, you know, he accompanied me afterwards, would be an undertaking not easily accomplished with credit. The weather was warm, and the musquitoes and moose flies did their best to render us uncomfortable. We however managed to follow our guide the whole day, over fallen trees, among tangled brushwood, and through miry ponds; yet not a single Grous did we find, even in places where he had before seen them, and great was my mortification, when, on our return towards sunset, as we were crossing a meadow belonging to his father, not more than a quarter of a mile from the village, the people employed in making hay informed us that about half an hour after our departure they had seen a fine covey. We were too much fatigued to go in search of them, and therefore made for home.

Ever ardent, if not impatient, I immediately made arrangements for procuring some of these birds, offering a good price for a few pairs of old and young, and in a few days renewed my search in company with a man who had assured me he could guide me to their breeding grounds, and which he actually did, to my great pleasure. These breeding grounds I cannot better describe than by telling you that the larch forests, which are there called "Hackmetack Woods," are as difficult to traverse as the most tangled swamps of Labrador. The whole ground is covered by the most beautiful carpeting of verdant moss, over which the light-footed Grous walk with ease, but among which we sunk at every step or two up to the waist, our legs stuck in the mire, and our bodies squeezed between the dead trunks and branches of the trees, the minute leaves of which insinuated themselves among my clothes, and nearly blinded me. We saved our guns from injury, however, and seeing some of the Spruce Partridges before they perceived us, we procured several specimens. They were in beautiful plumage, but all male birds. It is in such places that these birds usually reside, and it is very seldom that they are seen in the open grounds, beyond the borders of their almost impenetrable retreats. On returning to my family, I found that another hunter had brought two fine females, but had foolishly neglected to bring the young ones, which he had caught and given to his children, who to my great mortification had already cooked them when my messenger arrived at his house.

The Spruce Partridge or Canada Grous breeds in the States of Maine and Massachusetts about the middle of May, nearly a month earlier than at Labrador. The males pay their addresses to the females by strutting before them on the ground or moss, in the manner of the Turkey Cock, frequently rising several yards in the air in a spiral manner, when they beat their wings violently against their body, thereby producing a drumming noise, clearer than that of the Ruffed Grous, and which can be heard at a considerable distance. The female places her nest beneath the low horizontal branches of fir trees, taking care to conceal it well. It consists of a bed of twigs, dry leaves and mosses, on which she deposits from eight to fourteen eggs of a deep fawn colour, irregularly splashed with different tints of brown. They raise only one brood in the season, and the young follow the mother as soon as hatched. The males leave the females whenever incubation has commenced, and do not join them again until late in autumn; indeed, they remove to different woods, where they are more shy and wary than during the love season or in winter.

This species walks much in the manner of our Partridge. I never saw one jerk its tail as the Ruffed Grous does, nor do they burrow in the snow like that bird, but usually resort to trees to save themselves from their pursuers. They seldom move from thence at the barking of a dog, and when roused fly only to a short distance, uttering a few clucks, which they repeat on alighting. In general, when a flock is discovered, each individual forming it may be easily caught, for so seldom do they see men in the secluded places which they inhabit, that they do not seem to be aware of the hostile propensities of the race.

Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, the Spruce Partridge is much more abundant than the Ruffed Grous, which indeed gradually becomes scarcer the farther north we proceed, and is unknown in Labrador, where it is replaced by the Willow Grous, and two other species. The females of the Canada Grous differ materially in their colouring in different latitudes. In Maine, for instance, they are more richly coloured than in Labrador, where I observed that all the individuals procured by me were of a much greyer hue than those shot near Dennisville. The like difference is perhaps still more remarkable in the Ruffed Grous, which are so very grey and uniformly coloured in the Northern and Eastern States, as to induce, almost every person to consider them as of a species distinct from those found in Kentucky, or any of the southern mountainous districts of the Union. I have in my possession skins of both species procured a thousand miles apart, that present these remarkable differences in the general hue of their plumage.

All the species of this genus indicate the approach of rainy weather or a snow storm, with far more precision than the best barometer; for on the afternoon previous to such weather, they all resort to their roosting places earlier by several hours than they do during a continuation of fine weather. I have seen groups of Grous flying up to their roosts at mid-day, or as soon as the weather felt heavy, and have observed that it generally rained in the course of that afternoon. When, on the contrary, the same flock would remain busily engaged in search of food until sunset, I found the night and the following morning fresh and clear. Indeed, I believe that this kind of foresight exists in the whole tribe of Gallinaceous birds.

One day, while on the coast of Labrador, I accidentally almost walked upon a female Canada Grous surrounded by her young brood. It was on the 18th of July. The affrighted mother on seeing us, ruffled up all her feathers like a common hen, and advanced close to us as if determined to defend her offspring. Her distressed condition claimed our forbearance, and we allowed her to remain in safety. The moment we retired, she smoothed down her plumage, and uttered a tender maternal chuck, when the little ones took to their wings, although they were, I can venture to assert, not more than one week old, with so much ease and delight, that I felt highly pleased at having allowed them to escape.

Two days afterwards, my youthful and industrious party returned to the Ripley with a pair of these Grous in moult. This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season than the Willow Grous. My son reported that some young ones which he saw with their mother, were able to fly fully a hundred yards, and alighted on the low trees, among which he caught several of them, which, however, died before they reached the vessel.

This species is found not only in the State of Maine, but also in the mountainous districts of New Hampshire, and the northern parts of New York, as well as around our northern great lakes, and the head waters of the Missouri. It is abundant in the British provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Labrador.

Among the great number, procured at all seasons of the year, which I have examined, I never found one without the rufous band at the extremity of the tail represented in the plate; nor did I see any having the terminal white spot on the upper tail-coverts exhibited in figures of this species.

Their food consists of berries of different sorts, and the young twigs and blossoms of several species of plants. In the summer and autumn I have found them gorged with the berries of the plant represented in the plate, and which is commonly called "Solomon's Seal." In the winter I have seen the crop filled with the short leaves of the larch or Hackmetack.

I have frequently heard it said that these birds could be knocked down with sticks, or that a whole covey could be shot, while perched on trees, by beginning at the lowest one; but I have never witnessed any thing of the kind, and therefore cannot vouch for the truth of the assertion. During the autumn of 1833, these birds were uncommonly abundant in the State of Maine. My friend EDWARD HARRIS of New York, THOMAS LINCOLN, and others, killed a great number; and the last mentioned gentleman procured a pair alive, which were fed on oats and did well.

The flesh of this Grous is dark, and fit for being eaten only when it has fed on berries. In winter, when it feeds on the leaves of trees and other plants, the flesh is quite bitter and disagreeable.

TETRAO CANADENSIS, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 274.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 637.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 127.

SPOTTED GROUS, TETRAO CANADENSIS, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. iii. pl. 20. Male; pl. 21. fig. 2. Female.—Nuttall, Manual, vol. i. p. 667.—Swains. and Richards. Fauna Boreal.- Amer. vol. ii. p. 246.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXVI. Fig. 1, 1.

Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse, the base covered by feathers; upper mandible with the dorsal outline convex towards the end, the edges sharp and overlapping, the tip declinate; lower mandible slightly convex, in its dorsal outline, the back broad and rounded, the sides sloping outwards, the tip rather rounded. Nostrils basal, lateral, concealed by the short feathers. Head small, neck of ordinary length, body full. Feet short, rather small; tarsus short, roundish, feathered; toes scutellate above, broadly margined and pectinate, the anterior ones connected by a web at the base, the hind toe very small, the two lateral about equal, the middle one much longer; claws short, arched, compressed, rather obtuse.

Plumage compact, slightly glossed. Feathers of the head very short. Wings, short, broad, much rounded and curved, the third quill longest, the fourth next, the second and fifth nearly equal, the first very short. Tail ample, of ordinary length, rounded, of sixteen broad rotundato-truncate feathers having a minute mucro.

Bill and claws brownish-black. Iris hazel. Fringed membrane over the eyes vermilion. Toes purplish-grey. Upper plumage and flanks brownish-black, transversely barred with brownish-grey, the tip of each feather with two bars being of the latter colour; on the hind parts the bars are larger, and the pale ones more tinged with brown. Quills and larger coverts blackish-brown, the outer edges of the primaries pale brownish-grey, and those of the secondaries minutely mottled with the same. Tail-coverts brownish-black, minutely mottled and tipped with greyish-white; tail-feathers darker and tipped with dull brownish-red. Lower parts black, the feathers on the throat having a white spot near the end, those of the lower and lateral parts of the neck unspotted, of the breast with a broad subterminal spot, and the under tail-coverts largely tipped with white. Inner wing-coverts clove-brown, the proximal and axillaries tipped with white.

Length 15¾ inches, extent of wings 21¾; bill along the back 8/12, along the edge 1-2/12; tarsus 1¼; weight 17 oz.

Adult Female. CLXXVI. Fig. 2, 2.

The Female is not much smaller. The superciliary membrane is much less, but of the same colour. The upper parts are nearly of the same tints, but more broadly barred; the head, sides of the neck, fore neck, and anterior part of the breast yellowish-red, barred with brownish-black; the lower parts greyish-black, barred with reddish-white. The tail is minutely mottled and tipped with brownish-red. The younger females have more of the yellowish-red tints than the old ones. In other respects the colouring is nearly similar.

Length 15½ inches, extent of wings 21; weight 15 oz.

TRILLIUM PICTUM, Pursh, Flora Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 244. —HEXANDRIA TRIGYNIA, Linn.

This plant, as well as the other species represented, grows abundantly in Maine, in all such secluded places as are frequented by the Spotted Grous, which eagerly devours its berries. It has ovate acuminate leaves of a light green colour, thin and undulated; an erect peduncle; white flowers, veined with purple at the bottom, and having the petals lanceolate, recurved, nearly twice the length of the calyx. The berries are ovate and of a scarlet colour.

STREPTOPUS DISTORTUS, Mich. Flor. Amer. vol. i. p. 200. Pursh, Flor. Amer. Sept. vol. i. p. 232.—HEXANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn.

About two feet high, with alternate, amplexicaul, ovate, acute, ribbed, light green leaves; greenish-yellow flowers, on pedicels which are distorted in the middle; and oval scarlet berries.

WHITE-HEADED PIGEON.

COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, LINN.

PLATE CLXXVII. MALE AND FEMALE.

The White-headed Pigeon arrives on the Southern Keys of the Floridas, from the Island of Cuba, about the 20th of April, sometimes not until the 1st of May, for the purpose of residing there for a season, and rearing its young. On the 30th of April, I shot several immediately after their arrival from across the Gulf Stream. I saw them as they approached the shore, skimming along the surface of the waters, flying with great rapidity, much in the manner of the common house species, but not near each other like the Passenger Pigeon. On nearing the land, they rose to the height of about a hundred yards, surveyed the country in large circles, then with less velocity gradually descended, and alighted in the thickest parts of the mangroves and other low trees. None of them could be easily seen in those dark retreats, and we were obliged to force them out, in order to shoot them, which we did at this time on the wing.

In creeping among the bushes to obtain a view of them whilst alighted, I observed that the more I advanced, the more they retired from me. This they did by alighting on the ground from the trees, among which they could not well make way on wing, although they could get on with much ease below, running off and hiding at every convenient spot that occurred. These manœuvres lasted only a few days, after which I could see them perched on the tops of the trees, giving a preference perhaps to dry branches, but not a marked one, as some other species are wont to do.

They are at all times extremely shy and wary, more so in fact than any species with which I am acquainted. The sight of a man is to them insupportable, perhaps on account of the continued war waged against them, their flesh being juicy, well flavoured, and generally tender, even in old birds. Never could I get near one of them so long as it observed me. Indeed the moment they perceive a man, off they go, starting swiftly with a few smart raps of the wings, and realighting in a close covert for a while, or frequently flying to another key, from which they are sure to return to that left by them, should you pursue them. It is thus a most toilsome task to procure specimens of these birds.

Their shyness is but partially given up even during their love season, or while sitting on their eggs, for the moment they see you they get off slyly from the nest, walk on the branches for some distance, and take to wing without any noise, flying low along the edge of the mangroves, into which they throw themselves as soon as a place of safety offers itself, seldom on such occasions flying off to other keys. Their return to the nest is not immediate, the heat of these latitudes not requiring the same care in incubation as the comparative cold of more northern regions. I have waited their return sometimes as much as half an hour, without success.

By the first of May, the young squabs are nearly able to fly, and it is at this period that the greatest havoc is made among them. The fishermen and the wreckers visit the keys principally resorted to by this species, rifle all the nests they can find, and sometimes also shoot the old birds.

The key on which I first saw this bird, lies about twenty-five miles south of Indian Key, and is named Bahia-honda Duck Key. The farther south we proceeded the more we saw, until we reached the low, sandy, sterile keys, called the Tortugas, on none of which did I see a pigeon of any kind. During my visit to the Floridas, our party procured a great number of White-headed Pigeons. They were all either adult, or full-plumed birds, having the upper part of the head pure white, with a deep rich brown edging at the lateral parts of the crown. On our return from the Tortugas to Key West, our vessel anchored close to a small key, in a snug harbour protected from the sea winds by several long and narrow islands well known to the navigators of those seas. Captain DAY and myself visited this little key, which was not much more than an acre in extent, the same afternoon. No sooner had we landed, than, to our delight, we saw a great number of White-headed Pigeons rise, fly round the key several times, and all realight upon it. The Captain posted himself at one end of the key, I at the other, while the sailors walked about to raise the birds. In less than two hours we shot thirty-six of them, mostly on the wing. Their attachment to this islet resulted from their having nests with eggs on it. Along with them we found Grakles, Red-winged Starlings, Flycatchers, and a few Zenaida Doves. Having shot most of the Pigeons, examined their nests, collected their eggs, and written memoranda, we proceeded to other keys in search of other species, of which you will have an account in my next volume, they being all water birds.

The next morning we thought of calling at this little key on our way, and were surprised to find that many new comers had arrived there before us. They were, however, very shy, and we procured only seventeen in all. I felt convinced that this spot was a favourite place of resort to these birds. It being detached from all other keys, furnished with rank herbaceous plants, cactuses, and low shrubs, and guarded by a thick hedge of mangroves, no place could be better adapted for breeding; and, at each visit we paid it, White-headed Pigeons were procured. Allow me here, kind reader, to tell you that the number of that strange species of crabs called soldiers was so great, that our game could not be suffered to lie a few minutes on the ground without being either much mangled or carried into their subterranean retreats; so that, with all our care, we were actually deprived by them of several birds which we had shot. These curious crabs, which belong to the genus Pagurus, crawl up the trees, and no doubt often destroy the eggs or young of the Pigeons.

The principal difference between Pigeons and Doves, as to their habits, is, according to my observation, that the former generally build their nests close together on the same trees, which the latter never do. For this reason I would place the present species among the Doves.

The nest is placed high or low, according to circumstances; but there are never two on the same tree. I have found it on the top shoots of a cactus, only a few feet from the ground, on the upper branches of a mangrove, or quite low, almost touching the water, and hanging over it. In general the nest resembles that of the Columba migratoria, but it is more compact, and better lined. The outer part is composed of small dry twigs, the inner of fibrous roots and grasses. The eggs are two, opaque, white, rather roundish, and as large as those of the domestic Pigeon. From the appearance of the eggs in the ovaria of females having young at the time, I would infer that this species has several broods during each season; and perhaps they may breed in Cuba, after their return from the Florida Keys. None of these birds are found on the mainland, although it is at no great distance.

A rather extraordinary fact relating to the habits of this species, is that many of these birds, which breed in Cuba, or some of the Bahama Islands, come to the Florida Keys for the purpose of procuring food for their young, to which they return several times daily. This is particularly observed at the time when the Sea Grape is fully ripe, or during the month of June. The numbers of these Pigeons that resort to the Keys, attract several species of Hawks during the breeding season, amongst which the Peregrine and the Red-shouldered are conspicuous. On none of the Keys unvisited by this species, did I see a Hawk of any kind.

The White-headed Pigeon exhibits little of the pomposity of the common domestic species, in its amorous moments. The male, however, struts before the female with elegance, and the tones of his voice are quite sufficient to persuade her of the sincerity of his attachment. During calm and clear mornings, when nature appears in all her purity and brightness, the cooing of this Pigeon may be heard at a considerable distance, mingling in full concord with the softer tones of the Zenaida Dove. The bird standing almost erect, full-plumed, and proud of his beauty, emits at first a loud croohoo, as a prelude, and then proceeds to repeat his coo-coo-coo. These sounds are continued during the period of incubation, and are at all times welcome to the ear of the visitor of these remarkable islands. When approached suddenly, it emits a hollow, guttural sound, precisely resembling that of the Common Pigeon on such occasions.

The young birds are at first almost black, but have tufts of a soft buff-coloured down distributed mostly over the head and shoulders. While yet squabs they have no appearance of white on the head, and they take about four months before they acquire their perfect plumage. Smaller size, and a less degree of brilliancy, distinguish the female from the male. About the beginning of October they abound on the Keys, and return to the West India Islands.

I have only to add the following particulars to what I have already detailed of the history of this species. While standing perched in a nearly upright posture, they have a continued movement of the head, with a frequent jerking upwards of the tail. Their flight may be compared to that of the European Cushat, being very swift and noiseless, after a few hard flaps at starting. In captivity they are easily managed, and readily breed. I saw several of them with my friends Dr WILSON and Mr JOHN BACHMAN.

I have placed a pair of these Pigeons on a low, flowering tree, which is rather scarce on the Keys. It is in full bloom during the whole year, and its leaves, I thought, correspond with the colour of the birds, while the brilliant hue of its flowers forms a strong contrast.

COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 281.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 594.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 119.

WHITE-HEADED PIGEON, COLUMBA LEUCOCEPHALA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 15. fig. 1.—Nuttall, Manual, part. i. p. 625.

Adult Male. Plate CLXXVII. Fig. 1.

Bill straight, of ordinary length, rather slender, compressed; upper mandible with a tumid fleshy covering at the base, where it is straight in its dorsal outline, convex towards the end, with a sharp-edged, declinate, rather obtuse tip; lower mandible with the sides sloping outwards, the angle near the end, the edges sharp, the tip rounded. Nostrils medial, oblique, linear. Head small and compressed, neck of ordinary length, body full. Feet short, strong; tarsus very short, rounded, with two anterior rows of large hexagonal scales; toes scutellate above, marginate, the hind-toe smallest, the two lateral nearly equal, the middle toe much larger; claws of moderate size, compressed, arched, rather acute.

Plumage rather compact above, blended beneath, on the hind neck strong, with metallic gloss. Wings long, the third quill longest, the second almost equal, the first not so long as the fourth, the second, third, fourth, and most of the other primaries sinuate on the outer web, towards the end; the secondaries broad and rounded. Tail rather long, even, of twelve broad slightly rounded feathers.

Bill carmine at the base, bluish-white at the end. Iris yellow. Feet carmine; claws greyish-yellow. The general colour is dusky greyish-blue, paler beneath, the quills and tail-feathers darker. The whole upper part of the head is pure white; the upper part of the hind neck rich chocolate-brown, the lower part and sides green, changing to gold-colour, each feather margined externally with deep black.

Length 14¼ inches, extent of wings 23½; bill along the back 8/12, along the edge 11/12; tarsus 1-1/12, middle-toe and claw 1-11/12.

Adult Female. Plate CLXXVII. Fig. 2.

The female differs from the male only in having the tints a little duller and lighter.

Length 14 inches.

THE ROUGH-LEAVED CORDIA.

CORDIA SEBESTENA, Willd.—PENTANDRIA MONOGYNIA, Linn. CORDIACEÆ, Juss.

This plant, on account of its large tubular scarlet flowers, is one of the most beautiful of the West Indian trees. I saw only two individuals at Key West, where, as was supposed, they had been introduced from Cuba. They were about fifteen feet high, the stem having a diameter of only five or six inches. They were in full bloom in the early part of May, and their broad deep green leaves, and splendid red blossoms, mingled with the variety of plants around me, rendered their appearance delightful. Both trees were private property, and grew in a yard opposite to that of Dr STROBEL, through whose influence I procured a large bough, from which the drawing was made, with the assistance of Mr LEHMAN. I was informed that they continued in flower nearly the whole summer.

THE ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER.

SYLVIA CELATA, SAY.

PLATE CLXXVIII. MALE AND FEMALE.

This species is seen in the company of Sylvia coronata and Sylvia petechia, both in the Southern States, where it passes the winter, and while crossing the Union, in early spring, on its way to those Northeastern Districts where it breeds. It leaves Louisiana, the Floridas, and the Carolinas, from the beginning to the end of April; is seen in the Middle States, about the 10th of May; and reaches the State of Maine and the British provinces by the end of that month. On its return, besides settling in the Southern States, it spreads over the provinces of Mexico, from whence individuals in spring migrate by the vast prairies, and along the shores of the western parts of the Union, entering Canada in that direction in the first days of June. The Orange-crowned Warbler is thus very widely distributed over North America. I met with none, however, between Halifax and Labrador, nor did I see one in the latter country.

In the summer months, it manifests a retiring disposition, keeping among the low brushwood that borders the rivers and lakes of the Northern Districts. While in the south, however, where it is rather common near the sea-shore, it is less cautious, and is seen, in considerable numbers, in the orange groves around the plantations, or even in the gardens, especially in East Florida. Like the Sylvia petechia, it plays about the piazzas, skipping on wing in front of the clapboarded house, in quest of its prey, which it expertly seizes without alighting, or without snapping its bill, except during the disputes that occur among the males, as the spring advances. You find it among the branches of the Pride-of-China, that ornaments the streets of the southern cities and villages, as well as on those bordering the roads. From these it descends into the smilaxes, rose-bushes, and other shrubs, all of which yield it food and shelter. At the approach of darkness, it enters among the foliage of the evergreen wild orange and wild peach, where, with the Sylvia petechia and Sylvia coronata, it quietly passes the night. Its principal food consists of insects, partly caught on the wing, but chiefly along the branches and twigs, where the little depredator seeks them out with great activity.

The flight of this bird is short, rather low, and is performed by gently curved glidings. When ascending, however, it becomes as it were uncertain and angular.

The Orange-crowned Warbler breeds in the eastern parts of Maine, and in the British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Its nest is composed of lichens detached from the trunks of trees, intermixed with short bits of fine grass, and is lined with delicate fibrous roots and a proportionally large quantity of feathers. The eggs, which are from four to six, are of a pale green colour, sprinkled with small black spots. The nest is placed not more than from three to five feet from the ground between the smaller forks of some low fir tree. Only one brood is raised in the season, and the birds commence their journey southward from the middle of August to the beginning of September.

In autumn, it nearly loses the orange spot on its head, there being then merely a dull reddish patch, which is only seen on separating the feathers. In the breeding season, the part in question becomes as bright as you see it in the plate, in which are represented a pair of these birds, on a twig of the great huckleberry, which grows in East Florida. The young do not shew any orange on the head until the following spring.

SYLVIA CELATA, Say, in Long's Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, vol. i. p. 169.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 88.

ORANGE-COLOURED WARBLER, SYLVIA CELATA, Ch. Bonaparte, Amer. Ornith. vol. i. p. 45. pl. 5. fig. 2.—Nuttall, Manual,

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