Part 49

White Egg-Bird.

Thalasseus Cayanus.

Sterna Cayana, +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 273. Thalasseus Cayanus, +Boie+.

Length 21 inches, expanse 45, flexure 14¹⁄₂, tail 7¹⁄₄, rictus 3⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁴⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀. Two cæca ¹⁄₃ inch long.

This large and beautiful Tern is the most common species we have in the vicinity of Bluefields. Its powerful beak of a bright orange hue, its pointed occipital crests of black, the pearly tint of its upper, and the satiny lustre of its under parts, constitute it a species of much beauty. In the autumn months we may frequently see this bird fishing. A quarter of a mile from the shore, off Crabpond Point, there is a reef, above which it may be seen almost every day. Quite solitary in his habits, the Crested Tern prefers to fish alone; and though sometimes two or three may be in view at once, there is no association, no accordance of movement, as in the Pelicans. High above the water, we discern a bird, the snowy whiteness of whose plumage contrasts with the blue sky; he flies rapidly round and round in a large circle, quickly flapping his wings without intermission. Suddenly, he arrests his flight, flutters his wings in rapid vibration, as he looks downwards, but in a moment proceeds as before: it was doubtless a fish near the surface, but which disappeared before he could descend. Presently he again stops short, flutters,—then bringing the elbow of the wings to a right angle, descends perpendicularly, but with a singular turning of the body, so as to present now the back, now the belly, alternately, to the observer; not, however, by a rotation, but irregularly, and as if by jerks. But his purpose is again frustrated; for on nearly reaching the surface, he recovers himself with a graceful sweep, and remounts on flagging wing. Again he circles; and again, and again stops: at length, down he swoops, disappears with a plash, and in a moment breaks, struggling, from the wave, and, as if to rise burdened with prey were difficult, flags heavily near the surface, and circling slowly round, gradually regains his former altitude. Suddenly,—as if alarmed, though nothing appears to cause it,—he utters two or three loud cries in a plaintive tone, and flies off, along the coast, until he is concealed from view by the projecting mangroves. Yet, strange to say, in a few seconds he returns, and calmly pursues his wonted occupation. When satiated, he betakes himself to some one of the logs of wood which are placed as buoys by the fishermen to mark the position of their sunken fish-pots; and on this he reposes all night, rocked to sleep by the roll of the surf. The fishermen, on visiting their pots at early day, find the Terns, exceedingly often, sitting on the buoys; and so fearless are they, that not seldom a canoe may be paddled nearly within touch of one before he will fly.

Though web-footed, I believe none of the Terns are ever seen to swim. One shot and wounded in the wing made no effort to strike out, but merely struggled in the water as a land-bird would do. This specimen was brought home alive; it attempted to bite, striking with the beak. The flesh was dark, and resembled that of a Duck.

EGG-BIRD.

Hydrochelidon fuliginosa.

Sterna fuliginosa, +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 235. Hydrochelidon fuliginosum, +Boie+.

Length 17 inches, expanse [40, computed,] flexure 11⁶⁄₁₀, tail 7⁵⁄₁₀, uropygials 4, rictus 2³⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀.

For my information concerning this species, I am principally indebted to Mr. Hill; a single specimen only having fallen into my possession, which was shot by Sam, sitting on a fish-pot buoy near Bluefields, in the manner of the former species.

It is, however, a bird of considerable commercial importance; for its eggs, in common with those of the Noddy (Megalopterus stolidus) and the Sandwich Tern (Thalasseus Cantiacus) form an object of profitable adventure to the crews of numerous small vessels, fitted out in the spring from Kingston and other ports. The Pedro Kays are the grand field whence this harvest is reaped. “These lonely islets,” observes Mr. Hill, “are the resort of thousands and tens of thousands of sea-fowl. As soon as visitors land, myriads of birds are upon the wing in all directions. Some flocks rise, in circling flight, high up into the air; and descending again in the same dense numbers as they rose, settle in more remote places:—others break away hurriedly, and fly in a wide sweep far around, but return again hastily to the rocks they had quitted, reconciled to bear with the disturbance. The turmoil and hubbub of the thousands of birds thus suddenly put upon the wing, overpower, for a moment, the roar of the breakers, and darken the air like the sudden passing of a cloud.

“The constant inhabitants of the rocks are some three species of Gannet, all known as Boobies; some half a dozen species of Tern, among which the Noddy and the Egg-bird are exceedingly numerous; together with the Frigate Pelican, the Tropic-bird, and the Petrel; besides a multitude of Gulls....

“There were four vessels from Jamaica there at this time [April, 1846] gathering eggs; the months of March, April, and May being considered the egg-harvest.

“The Kays are open to all adventurers; but the egg-gathering is regulated by a custom which recognises the first-coming vessel as commanding for the season. The second vessel in seniority is called the Commodore; the first being styled the Admiral. They have a code of laws, to which, in a spirit of honourable compliance, all are expected to shew obedience; and in case of any infraction of the obligations thus voluntarily imposed upon themselves, a jury selected from the several vessels try complaints, and with due formality inflict punishment for offences.

“The only kind of vegetation, excepting a single cocoa-nut, on these desert rocks, is a stunted tree, called by the egg-gatherers saffron-wood. It is extremely resinous, and the leaves are used by them as tea; and I suspect it is the same plant as the tea-shrub of the Bahama islands. Among the branches of these trees, at a very small elevation from the ground, the Noddies build nests, that have become large by a long accumulation of dung and sticks. The nests are resorted to for a succession of years, and are repaired and raised upon, season after season, till they have grown into huge piles, among the branches;—the large masses of interwoven twigs prevailing even more than the green foliage. The Egg-bird and the Sandwich Tern, if they are unable to gather any of the dead foliage of these shrubs, or any dried leaves of sea-weed, as a covering for the cavity in the rock in which they nestle, lay their eggs on the bare sand: just making so much of a depression by scratching the ground as suffices to hollow it for the reception of some three eggs, the addition of the urate of lime from their dung sufficiently cementing the loose particles.”

In a subsequent communication my friend reverts to the same interesting subject. “The nests of the Noddy, which, though so elaborately framed with sticks, are exceedingly shallow, with scarce any hollowing at all, are always embellished with an addition of broken shells, (sea-shells,) generally speckled and spotted like the eggs. Mr. Wilkie examined them, and they were sea-shells. The obvious suggestion for this curious prevalence of a habit, which he found to distinguish every nest, was its deceptiveness; so much similarity existed between the sea-shell and the egg-shell. I find that Audubon records a similar fact with the Noddy Terns of the Florida Kays. These are his words: ‘In a great many instances, the repaired nests formed masses nearly two feet in height, and yet all of them had only a slight hollow for the eggs, broken shells of +WHICH+ were found among the entire, as if they had been purposely +PLACED THERE+.’ Mr. Wilkie was totally unacquainted with this noticed particular in Audubon’s ‘Ornithological Biography.’ Has Audubon misread his note ‘broken shells,’ and by the following words ‘of which,’ made them egg-shells, when they should have been sea-shells? This is at least worth a remark. Mr. Wilkie says he took the pieces of shell out of the nest, and inspected them. Audubon merely says, ‘The bushes rarely were taller than ourselves, so that we could easily see the eggs in the nest.’”

Specimens of the eggs of these three species of Tern, procured at the Kays by George Wilkie, Esq., who kindly furnished the above information to Mr. Hill for the benefit of this work, are now before me. There is scarcely any difference in size, the dimensions being 2 inches by 1³⁄₈: the Noddy’s, however, is of a more conical form. The ground of all is white; that of the Noddy has a few blackish specks thinly scattered over it, and at the larger end some irregular splashes of brown. That of the Sandwich Tern is uniformly speckled with dull reddish-purple; while that of the Egg-bird is marked with the same hue in fewer but larger spots.

* * * * *

To the above Laridæ, Mr. Hill adds Sterna argentea (+Bonap.+) killed in Kingston Harbour; and Hydrochelidon nigra (+Boie+) and Xema atricilla (+Bonap.+) as frequenting the Kays.

Of two other birds he thus gives me indications:—“A curious bird of the family Procellariadæ (the Petrels,) was found in the Rio Grande in Portland after the late storms [in the autumn of 1846.] Hurricanes introduce into these islands new birds, and disperse those peculiar to these islands into other localities.” The other seems to be of the family Alcadæ (the Auks). “In the Blue Mountains, high up towards their summits, is a curious burrowing bird, which they call the Blue-Mountain Duck. It is described as having webbed feet, and a hooked parrot-bill. This description would indicate a species of Alca. It inhabits holes in the cliffs, and is said to burrow to the extent of ten feet. Nothing is known of its habit of feeding. E. M^cGeachy, Esq., Crown Surveyor for the county of Surrey, first informed me of the existence of such birds. He had himself taken them from their burrows. The facts have also been assured to me by other observers.” A specimen of this bird is said to be in the possession of George Atkinson, Esq., of Newcastle-on-Tyne, who, in answer to an application from me, kindly promised me a particular description; but other engagements, probably, have not yet afforded him the necessary leisure.

+Fam.+—COLYMBIDÆ. (The Divers.)

BLACK-THROATED GREBE.

Podilymbus Carolinensis?

Podiceps Carolinensis, +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 248. Podilymbus Carolinensis, +Less.+ Sylbeocyclus Carolinensis, +Bonap.+

Length 11¹⁄₂ inches, expanse —?, flexure 4⁶⁄₁₀, tail 0, rictus 1¹⁄₂, tarsus 1⁴⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁹⁄₁₀. Irides hazel; beak pale grey, marked about the middle by a broad cincture of black, in which the nostrils are pierced. Feet black. Male: Head and neck pale purplish-grey, darker on crown and nape: a circle of white surrounds the eye, edged outwardly with black. Plumage at base of beak black: a broad band of black runs down the centre of throat. Upper parts silky black, paler on wings. Under parts light grey, with transverse pencillings of black: vent dusky. Female: Beak, head, neck, and breast dull yellowish-grey, the markings rather less conspicuous; under parts minutely mottled with black and yellowish-grey. Weight 10³⁄₄ oz.

No living specimen of this bird has fallen under my notice. It is, however, familiar to Mr. Hill, who kindly favoured me with a preserved specimen, and with some of his own notes. It is frequently shot in the Rio Cobre. One which Mr. Hill had alive was put into a barrel half filled with straw, on which was laid a large pan of water; the brevity of its wings precluding the possibility of its getting out. It was reconciled immediately; and fed heartily on raw fish chopped up. It lived in apparent health three weeks, and died at length without manifest illness, or any perceptible cause; though want of exercise or alteration of diet may have contributed to it.

A few further particulars of the habits of this same individual are contained in a recent letter from my friend. “The several specimens of the Black-gorget Grebe that I have had, were brought to me from the sedgy grounds of the River Cobre. Usually the banks of the river are deep; but there are places in which the course of the stream has been changed, leaving, between one channel and the other, open meadows and banks fringed with a bristling growth of cyperaceous and other border herbage. It will be readily perceived, that these stretches of blended sward and sedge are the only parts of the river fitted for a bird with fin-toed feet and short wings, to quit the water and seek the shore. It is only there they can rise out of the stream upon the green turf; and there they indulge in slumbers in the sunshine, secluded and secure. I judge this to be their habit, from the pleasure a bird I kept some few weeks alive used to feel in lying on the weeds placed for him by the side of a bowl of water, in which he fed. He would there repose for hour after hour, doubled up like an antelope on the grass, with its head and neck curved,—if I may compare beings so dissimilar,—in the graceful attitude in which I made my drawing, now in the hands of the Zoological Society. The food given to my bird was Guinea-corn. After it had been softened in the water, it ate it readily. The seeds of aquatic plants may be considered, therefore, quite as much as water insects and mollusca, its accustomed food. The eye, which is dark and bright, like a gazelle’s, has a thick orbit of that fleshy character, to which pigeon-fanciers give the name of putty-eye, in their favourite birds.”