Part 33

Columba leucoptera, +Linn.+—Edw. 76. Zenaida leucoptera, +G. R. Gray+.

Length 12¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 19, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 4¹⁄₂, rictus 1, tarsus 1, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀. Irides bright orange; feet lake-red; beak black; lores and eyelids light blue. Upper parts dusky umber, the crown, hind-head, and nape suffused with purple; loins and tail-coverts blue-grey, the latter tipped with umber. Wing-quills blue-black, the first four narrowly edged, the secondaries tipped, with white, primary-coverts and winglet black; greater and middle secondary-coverts pure white with grey bases, forming a broad band from shoulder to hind angle. Uropygials umber, tail-feathers grey with broad bluish-white tips, the grey becoming black at its termination, and ending abruptly: the white is more pure, and the grey nearly black on the under surface. Neck, throat, and breast pale umber, glossed on the side with green, crimson, and gold reflections; a spot of deep-blue under the ear; belly, sides, and under tail-coverts greyish white. Sexes alike. Intestine 41 inches: no cæcum.

This is a Turtle of much elegance. Its general aspect resembles that of the Pea-dove, but its colour is less warm, and its figure less plump. The singular white band on the wing is at any distance a sufficient distinctive mark. It is the only gregarious Dove we have; for the small companies of the Ground Dove can hardly entitle it to be so called: the Whitewing, however, associates in flocks of twenty or thirty, which, when removing, fly in a body, as do tame Pigeons. In the early months of the year, when the physic-nut (Jatropha curcas) is ripening, and oranges come in, the Whitewing becomes plentiful in open pastures, and the low woods in the neighbourhood of habitations; the seeds of these fruits, and the castor-oil nut, forming the principal part of their food. At this time they are very easily shot, as they walk about on the ground. They are also taken very readily in springes, and in traps called calambans, baited with orange seeds. Sometimes when the foot is caught in the springe, the bird will remain very quietly; at others it struggles much, so as almost to be deplumed: cats often find them, and leave little but feathers to the owner. Occasionally the bird is caught by the neck, and I have been told of an instance, in which a Whitewing taken thus, flying with impetuosity on the alarm, cut its head absolutely off with the string, the body falling one way and the head another. From the ease with which they are procured, they are a good deal eaten, though seldom fat, and rather subject to be bitter.

When the rains fall, we see the Whitewings but seldom; they betake themselves to the deep woods and impenetrable morasses, when their presence is indicated by their loud stammering coo. The full coo consists of more notes than that of any other of our Doves; rendered into negro-English, it runs thus: “Since poor Gilpin die, cow-head spoil,” the last note protracted and falling meaningly. This, however, is not uttered, as far as my experience goes, when coming out into “the open” to feed. Two which I had with other Doves, caged, were usually silent; but in Mr. Hill’s larger collection, the Whitewings were most pertinaciously vociferous. All the day long, the four-fold coo, “two bits for two” or “what’s that to you?” loud and vehement, saluted our ears. Sometimes it was replaced by a sort of chorus, more musical, “toora-loora, toora-loora.” The other Doves cooed occasionally, but the Whitewings incessantly.

The food of this Pigeon, when retired from view, I am not acquainted with; it is probably the seeds and berries which supply its congeners. The seed of the sour-sop is perhaps agreeable to it, for one of my lads once caught a Whitewing by bird-lime set for Blue Quits at a ripe sour-sop. Farinaceous and pulpy berries are found in the woods at all seasons, so that the Pigeons and other frugivorous birds have not only abundance but variety. Its nest is not very often met with. I am informed that it occasionally builds in a pimento; Robinson says that it builds also in the orange, and sea-side grape, in May, a very slight and narrow platform of rude twigs, and lays two eggs, of a pale drab hue.

The general form, the shortness of the tarsus, the length of the tail, and its manners, associate this species rather with the arboreal than the terrestrial Doves. It, however, approaches the latter. Those which I kept in a cage, habitually rested on the highest perches, while the Pea-doves generally rested on the floor.

The Whitewing is swift and strong on the wing; but its flight is not accompanied with that peculiar whistling, produced by the wings of the Pea-dove.

PEA-DOVE.

(Zenaida Pigeon.—+Bon.+)

Zenaida amabilis.

Columba Zenaida, +Bonap.+—Aud. pl. 162. Zenaida amabilis, Ibid.

Length 11¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 19¹⁄₄, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 4, rictus 1, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀.

The open pastures, or the grassy glades of pimento pens, are the favourite haunts of this pretty Dove, where it walks on the ground singly or in pairs. In such open situations, it can discover, and mark the motions of an intruder, and long before he is within gun-range it is upon the wing. Few birds are more difficult of approach, unless the intervention of a wall or a thick bush permit a concealed access. Its flight is rapid and forcible, and performed with a peculiar whistling of the wings, by which it is at once recognised, though unseen.

The Pea-dove is frequently seen in the middle of dusty high-roads, but whether they resort thither for the purpose of dusting, or to procure gravel, I cannot say, as they usually fly as soon as seen. When the rains have ceased, the increasing drought renders these, as it does many other birds, more familiar; and they may be seen lingering on the borders of streams and ponds. Indeed they seem, of all our Doves, to haunt most the vicinity of water; particularly those dreary swamps or morasses which are environed by tall woods of mangrove. In the winter months, when the pastures are burnt up with drought, we may hear all day long their plaintive cooing, proceeding from these sombre groves, though it is not much heard in any other situation. The coo consists of five deliberate notes, loud but mournful, “Sary-coat-true-blue,” all in the same tone, save the second, which is short and elevated. It resembles the note of the Carolina Dove.

The Pea-dove subsists on various fruits and seeds: pimento-berries, orange-pips, sop-seeds, castor-oil nuts, physic-nuts, maize, and the smaller seeds of pasture weeds are some of his resources. His flesh is white and juicy, and when in good condition is in general estimation. His form is plump, and his plumage beautifully smooth; though its colours are sober, they are chaste and pleasing; and the aspect of his countenance, with his dark liquid eye, is remarkably engaging.

I kept several of these birds in a cage for nearly a year, but they were too timid to be interesting in confinement. They could not bear any approach to them, without fluttering violently. They were very restless, walking rapidly about the cage-floor all day long, invariably walking over each other, rather than deviating from their course. Only one or two habitually perched. The Pea-dove has the habit of jerking the head by quickly shortening, and then lengthening the neck, immediately and invariably followed by a flirt upward of the tail; this action my captives were perpetually performing at intervals of a few seconds, when not walking. They slept on the floor of the cage, but were extremely wakeful. I have many times crept silently into the room at various hours of the night, taking off my shoes and moving with extreme caution, but always found them wide-awake; perhaps sensible of the light of the candle, even when the eyes were closed. My servant, however, found them asleep very early one morning, when they awoke with a start: the head was not behind the wing.

They were jealous of other birds, and, notwithstanding their gentle physiognomy, irritable and pugnacious. A Cashew bird that was a fellow-prisoner, they would strike at with the wing, and even if I myself suddenly approached, the wing was raised in defence. They were spiteful towards an unoffending Kildeer Plover, pecking at him so violently as to pull the feathers from his side, and make him cry out. I fed them with maize.

I have now in my possession a Pea-dove, shot by Sam in December, the lower mandible of which is distorted by the point being turned on one side, so that the mandibles cross as in the Cross-bill. The tips, however, could be brought into contact. It was shabby in plumage, and in very poor condition, the cause of which was obvious, for, open the plumage of the under parts wherever I would, the body was swarming with lice (Nirmus); and a large proportion of the body feathers were crowded with nits to such a degree, that on one feather which I placed under a lens I counted upwards of 170; and there were other feathers more crowded than this. I judged it to be a moderate estimate, that on this unfortunate bird there were not less than 500 lice, and 10,000 nits. On one of the thighs, where they were very thick, there was an ulcer. In addition to this, two large bird flies (Ornithomyia) flew from the plumage, while I was examining it.

The nest is, as usual, a loose platform of twigs interlaced, with scarcely any hollow, and no leaves; it is often built in an orange, or a pimento, and contains two eggs of a drab hue. Near the end of March we started a Pea-dove from the centre of a lofty Ebby palm (Elais) in Mount Edgecumbe; it immediately alighted on the ground just before my lad, and began to tumble about in a grotesque manner, affecting inability to fly. Sam was not to be caught, however; but calling my attention to the circumstance, we began to peer among the fronds of the tree, where we presently discerned the projecting ends of the twigs that constituted her nest, the centre of her fears and anxieties. It was inaccessible, however, when discovered.

GROUND DOVE.

Chamæpelia passerina.

Columba passerina, +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 182. Chamæpelia passerina, +Sw.+

Length 6¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 10¹⁄₄, flexure 3¹⁄₄, tail 2⁷⁄₂₀, rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹³⁄₂₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀. Irides lake-pink; feet pale flesh colour; beak orange, black at the tip; eyelids yellow.

Though it would be scarcely proper to term this little bird gregarious, it is certainly social, being rarely seen alone. In pairs or small companies of three or four, it frequents pastures, on the short turf of which it runs with considerable speed; and is rather loath to take wing, often allowing a person to approach within a few yards. If one fly, however, all fly; but seldom go far; alighting either on the ground again, or on some neighbouring tree of small elevation. As it runs along, the tail is usually erected, which gives it the aspect of a miniature fowl.

I have found the craw full of small seeds of grasses; they also eat the seeds of the Jatropha and of the castor-oil plant, and particularly those of the gamboge-thistle, (Argemone,) so common in pastures. They are fond of picking about the beds of shallots and escalions, for minute seeds exposed in the newly-turned earth. They are, therefore, readily taken in springes made of horse-hair; they are more commonly caught by the neck than by the feet, and not seldom, as I am assured, is the neck quite cut off; though I presume the springe in such cases must be of stronger material.

The Ground-dove is numerous all the year round. In March, I observed it particularly abundant on the banks of the Rio Cobre, especially on a flat gravelly bed, partially surrounded by the bending stream near Spanish Town. The boys of the neighbourhood took advantage of the thirsty birds’ resort to the water, by strewing about the spot the seeds of the cockspur, (Pisonia aculeata); a burr so adhesive, that if one touch but a feather, it is immovable; a very little struggling entangles other feathers, and the bird is utterly helpless. So firmly tenacious is the hold, that even when the bird is in the hand the seed can be removed only by plucking away each feather it has touched. Many are caught by this singular artifice.

It is very easily deprived of life. I have known one fly into a room, and, striking its head against the ceiling, fall down and die in an instant.

From April to June the low woods resound with the coo of this little Dove. Sometimes it resembles the word meho? in an interrogative tone, loud, querulous, and pertinacious in iteration. At others it is like children calling whoop. It is not at all plaintive in its character.