Part 1 - Chapter 8. The Feathered Tribes Of North America

________________________________________________
_ PART ONE
CHAPTER EIGHT. THE FEATHERED TRIBES OF NORTH AMERICA

THE BALD OR WHITE-HEADED EAGLE.

The white-headed eagle takes precedence among the feathered tribes of America,--because he stands first in natural order, and has been selected by the people of the United States as their heraldic emblem. Their choice was, by-the-by, objected to by Benjamin Franklin, on the plea "that it is a bird of bad moral character, and does not get his living honestly." There was justice in the remark, for the bald eagle is a determined robber, and a perfect tyrant. He is, however, a magnificent bird, when seen with wings expanded, nearly eight feet from tip to tip--and a body three and a half feet in length--his snowy-white head and neck shining in the sun, and his large, hooked, yellow beak open as he espies, afar off, the fish-hawk emerging from the ocean with his struggling prey. Downward he pounces with rapid flight. The fish-hawk sees his enemy approaching, and attempts to escape; but, laden with the fish he has just captured, in spite of the various evolutions he performs, he is soon overtaken by the savage freebooter. With a scream of despair he drops the fish.

The eagle poises himself for a moment, as if to take more certain aim, then, descending like a whirlwind, snatches it ere it reaches the water.

The plumage of the bald eagle is of a chocolate-brown, inclining to black along the back, while the bill and upper tail-coverts are of the same white hue as the head and neck. He and his mate build their nest in some lofty tree amid a swamp; and repairing it every season, it becomes of great size. Its position is generally known by the offensive odour arising from the number of fish scattered around, which they have let drop after their predatory excursions. The nest is roughly formed of large sticks, moss, roots, and tufts of grass. They commence making fresh additions to their nest early in the year; and the female deposits her eggs in January, and hatches the young by the middle of the following month. Robbers as they are, the white-headed eagles exhibit great parental affection, tending their young as long as they are helpless and unfledged; nor will they forsake them even should the tree in which their nest is built be surrounded by flames. Wilson, the American naturalist, mentions seeing a tree cut down in order to obtain an eagle's nest. The parent birds continued flying clamorously round, and could with difficulty be driven away from the bodies of their fledgelings, killed by the fall of the lofty pine.

Audubon gives us an account of a savage attack he once witnessed made by an eagle and his mate on a swan:--The fierce eagle, having marked the snow-white bird as his prey, summons his companion. As the swan is passing near the dreaded pair, the eagle, in preparation for the chase, starts from his perch on a tall pine, with an awful scream, that to the swan brings more terror than, the report of the largest duck-gun. Now is the moment to witness the display of the eagle's power. He glides through the air like a falling star, and comes upon the timorous quarry, which now, in agony and despair, seeks by varied manoeuvres to elude the grasp of his cruel talons. Now it mounts, now doubles, and would willingly plunge into the stream, were it not prevented by the eagle, who, knowing that by such a stratagem the swan might escape him, forces it to remain in the air by his attempts to strike it with his talons from beneath. The swan has already become much weakened, and its strength fails at sight of the courage and swiftness of its antagonist. At one moment it seems about to escape, when the ferocious eagle strikes with his talons the under side of its wing, and with an unresisted power forces the bird to fall in a slanting direction upon the nearest shore. Pouncing downwards, the eagle is soon joined by his mate, when they turn the body of the luckless swan upwards, and tear it open with their talons.

Along all the coasts of North America, as also at the mouths of the chief rivers, the white-headed eagle is found watching for his prey. An instance is mentioned of one of these savage birds being entrapped, and falling a victim to his voracity. Having pursued a wild duck to a piece of freshly-formed ice, he pitched upon it, and began tearing his prey to pieces, when the mass on which he stood continuing to freeze, his feet became fixed in the ice. Having vainly endeavoured with his powerful wings to rise in the air, he ultimately perished miserably.

 

THE WILD TURKEY.

The wild turkey, acknowledged to be the finest of game-birds, ranges throughout the forests of the more temperate portions of America. It is the parent of the valued inhabitant of our poultry-yards; and in its wild state utters the same curious sounds which it does in captivity. This superb bird measures about four feet in length. Its plumage, banded with black, gleams with a golden brown hue, shot with green, violet, and blue. Its head is somewhat small, and a portion of its neck is covered with a naked warty bluish skin, which hangs in wattles from the base of the bill, forming a long fleshy protuberance, with hairs at the top.

The bird, in the States, is commonly known as Bubbling Jock, and is called "Oocoocoo" by the Indians. The female builds her nest in some dry, secluded spot, guarding it carefully, and never approaching it by the same path twice in succession. When first her young are hatched, she leads them through the woods, but returns at night to her nest. After a time she takes them to a greater distance, and nestles them in some secluded spot on the ground. At this time they are frequently attacked by the lynxes, who spring upon them, knocking them over with their paws.

The wild turkey wanders to a great distance from the place of its birth. "About the beginning of October the male birds assemble in flocks," says Audubon, "and move towards the rich bottom-lands of the Ohio and Mississippi. The females advance singly, each with its brood of young, then about two-thirds grown, or in union with other families, forming parties often amounting to seventy or eighty individuals--shunning the old cocks, who, when the young birds have attained this size, will fight with, and often destroy them by repeated blows on the head. When they come upon a river, they betake themselves to the highest eminence, and often remain there a whole day; for the purpose of consultation, it would seem, the males gobbling, calling, and making much ado,--strutting about as if to raise their courage to a pitch befitting the emergency. At length, when all around is quiet, the whole party mount to the tops of the most lofty trees, whence, at a signal--consisting of a single cluck--given by the leader, the flock takes flight for the opposite shore. On reaching it, after crossing a broad stream, they appear totally bewildered, and easily fall a prey to the hunter, who is on the watch for them with his dogs."

 

THE OCELLATED TURKEY.

A still more magnificent species of turkey than the one just described inhabits Honduras. It may be distinguished from the common turkey by the eye-like marks on the tail and upper wing-coverts. The naked skin of the head and neck, too, is of a delicate violet-blue, covered with numerous pea-looking knobs arranged in a cluster upon the crown. This is of a pale buff-orange, while there is a row of similar marks over the eye, and others scattered about the neck. The wattle hanging from the neck is of a light orange at the tip. The greater wing-coverts are of a rich chestnut, the feet and legs being of a lake colour. It is somewhat smaller than the wild turkey of the States.

 

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK.

The celebrated canvas-back duck, allied to the English pochard, makes its appearance among the numerous rivers in the neighbourhood of Chesapeake Bay about the middle of October, as well as in other parts of the Union. It is at that time, however, thin; but soon grows fat, from the abundance of its favourite food. It is from two to three feet across the wings. Its glossy black beak is large. The head and part of the neck are of a rich glossy reddish-chestnut tint, with black breast. The wing-coverts are grey, and the rest of the body white, marked with a number of transverse wavy lines.

It is especially esteemed at table--and those who have eaten it at the hospitable boards of Americans will acknowledge its excellence; though when, on several occasions, some braces of these birds have been sent to England, they have failed to elicit the admiration due to their merits-- in consequence, it is said, of not being accompanied by an American cook.

 

THE SUMMER DUCK.

The most beautiful of the duck tribe which visits the States is the summer or tree duck of Carolina. It bears a strong resemblance in plumage and habits to the celebrated mandarin duck of China. The birds are found perching on the branches of trees overhanging ponds and streams--a habit not usual in the duck tribe--where they may be seen, generally a couple together, the male in his superb garments of green, purple, chestnut, and white, contrasting with the homely plumage of his mate.

 

THE PINNATED GROUSE, OR PRAIRIE HEN.

On the open "barrens," where a few tufts of stunted brushwood are alone found, the remarkable pinnated grouse may be seen in great numbers running over the ground. Their backs are mottled with black, white, and chestnut-brown; and the male has two finely ornamented feathers on the neck, streaked with black and brown. It has also a slight crest on the head, of orange colour, hanging over each eye in a semicircular form; and naked appendages, which hang down from each side of the neck, and can be filled at the will of the bird by air, so that when puffed out they are like two small yellow oranges. As the breeding season approaches the males appear, uttering strange cries, puffing out these wattles, ruffling their feathers, and erecting their neck-tufts, as if wishing to appear to the greatest advantage before their mates. They occasionally engage in combats with each other, but their encounters are not often of a bloody description.

They form their nests rudely of grass and leaves, under the shelter of a bush or thick tuft of long grass. The hen lays about fifteen eggs of a brownish-white colour.

The most remarkable feature in the history of these birds is the way in which they assemble, as winter approaches, in vast numbers, to obtain protection from the biting force of the north-west winds which sweep over the Missouri country, by huddling close together.

"As evening draws near," says Mr Webber, who has observed their habits, "they approach the spot they have fixed on, in the usual manner, by short flights, with none of that whirring of wings for which they are noted when suddenly put up; but they make ample amends for their previous silence when they arrive. From the pigeon-roost there is a continuous roar, caused by the restless shifting of the birds, and sounds of impatient struggling, which can be distinctly heard for several miles. The numbers collected are incalculably immense, since the space occupied extends sometimes for a mile in length, with a breadth determined by the character of the ground. The noise begins to subside a few hours after dark. The birds have now arranged themselves for the night, nestled as close as they can be wedged, every bird with his breast turned to the quarter in which the wind may be prevailing. This scene is one of the most curious that can be imagined, especially when we have the moonlight to contrast with their dark backs. At this time they may be killed by cart-loads, as only those in the immediate neighbourhood of the slain are apparently disturbed. They rise to the height of a few feet, with a stupified and aimless fluttering, and plunge into the snow within a short distance, where they are easily taken by the hand. They will, if disturbed when they first arrive at a resting-place, change it; but after the heavy snows have fallen, they are not easily driven away by any degree of persecution. By melting the snow with the heat of their bodies, and by trampling it down, they then form a kind of sheltering-yard, the outside walls of which defend them against the winds."

They have, besides human foes, numberless enemies among the foxes, wolves, hawks, and other birds. The fecundity of the survivors, however, keeps pace with the many fatalities to which they are liable.

 

THE RUFFED GROUSE, OR AMERICAN PHEASANT.

"This elegant species," writes Wilson, "is known throughout North America. Its favourite places of resort are high mountains, covered with the balsam-pine and hemlock." It prefers the woods--being seldom or never found in open plains. They are solitary birds; generally being seen in coveys of four or five, and often singly, or in pairs.

The stranger wandering through the forest is surprised to hear a peculiar sound, very similar to that produced by striking two full-blown ox-bladders together, but much louder. It is caused by the ruffed grouse, who, amusing himself by drumming, is little aware that it will bring the cruel sportsman towards him. The bird produces it when standing on an old prostrate log. He lowers his wings, erects his expanded tail, and inflates his whole body something in the manner of the turkey-cock, strutting and wheeling about with great stateliness. After a few manoeuvres of this kind he begins to strike with his stiffened wings, in short and quick strokes, which become more and more rapid, till they run into each other. The sound then resembles the rumbling of distant thunder, dying away gradually on the ear.

The hen is an affectionate mother, and takes every means, when a stranger approaches her nest, to lead him away from the spot.

Wilson describes observing a hen-pheasant depart from this usual custom. He came suddenly upon one with a young bird in her company. The mother fluttered before him for a short time, when suddenly darting towards the young one, she seized it in her bill, and flew off along the surface of the ground through the woods, with great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond his sight, leaving him in much surprise at the incident. He searched round, but could find no other birds.

Here was a striking instance of something more than "blind instinct"--by the adoption of the most simple and effectual means for the preservation of her solitary young one--in this remarkable deviation from the usual manoeuvres of the bird when she has a numerous brood.

The ruffed grouse is of a rich chestnut-brown, mottled with brown and grey; while on each shoulder are the curious ruffs, or tufts, from which he obtains his name, of a rich velvety black, glossed with green. The skin beneath them is bare; the tail is grey, barred with blackish-brown.

Another species of grouse, smaller than the two former, inhabits Canada.

 

PASSENGER-PIGEONS.

Flights of locusts are often seen passing through the air, like vast clouds, obscuring the sky. The passenger-pigeon of America appears in almost equal numbers. The accounts of their vast nights would be incredible, were they not thoroughly well authenticated.

They are beautiful birds; the males being about sixteen inches in length, the females slightly smaller, and usually of less attractive plumage. The head, part of the neck, and chin of the male bird, are of a slaty-blue colour; the lower portions being also of a slate colour, banded with gold, green, and purplish-crimson, changing as the bird moves here and there. Reddish-hazel feathers cover the throat and breast, while the upper tail-coverts and back are of a dark slaty-blue. Their other feathers are black, edged with white; and the lower part of the breast and abdomen are purplish-red and white. The beak is black, and the eyes of a fiery orange hue, with a naked space round them of purplish-red.

Its chief food is the beech-mast; but it also lives on acorns, and grain of all sorts--especially rice. It is calculated that each bird eats half a pint of food in the day; and when we recollect their numbers, we may conceive what an immense amount must be consumed.

The female hatches only one bird at a time, in a nest slightly made of a few twigs, loosely woven into a sort of platform. Upwards of one hundred nests have been found in one tree, with a single egg in each of them; but there are probably two or three broods in the season. In a short time the young become very plump, and so fat, that they are occasionally melted down for the sake of their fat alone. They choose particular places for roosting--generally amid a grove of the oldest and largest trees in the neighbourhood.

Wilson, Audubon, and other naturalists, give us vivid descriptions of the enormous flights of these birds. Let us watch with Audubon in the neighbourhood of one of their curious roosting-places. We now catch sight of a flight of the birds moving with great steadiness and rapidity, at a height out of gunshot, in several strata deep, and close together. From right to left, far as the eye can reach, the breadth of this vast procession extends, teeming everywhere, equally crowded. An hour passes, and they rather increase in numbers and rapidity of flight. The leaders of this vast body sometimes vary their course, now forming a large band of more than a mile in diameter; those behind tracing the exact route of their predecessors. Now they once more change their direction--the column becoming an immense front, sweeping the heavens in one vast and infinitely extended line. Suddenly a hawk makes a sweep on a particular part of the column, when almost as quick as lightning that part shoots downwards out of the common track; but soon again rising, advances at the same rate as before.

We will now hurry on towards their breeding place, a forest on the banks of the Green River in Kentucky, fully forty miles in length, and more than three in width. In the neighbourhood are assembled a large number of persons, with horses, waggons, guns, and ammunition; and a farmer has brought three hundred hogs to be fattened on the refuse pigeons. As the vast flight arrives at the spot, thousands are knocked down by men with long poles. Some place pots of sulphur under the trees; others are provided with torches of pine-knots; and the rest have guns. The birds continue to pour in. The fires are lighted; and a magnificent, as well as almost terrifying, sight presents itself. The pigeons arrive by thousands, alighting everywhere, one above another, till solid masses, as large as hogsheads, are formed on the branches all around. Here and there the perches give way with a crash, and falling to the ground, destroy hundreds of the birds beneath, forcing down the dense groups with which every stick is loaded. The pigeons continue coming, and it is past midnight before there is any sign of a decrease in their numbers. The ground in all directions is strewed with branches broken by the weight of the birds which have pitched on them. By sunrise, the enormous multitude have taken their departure, while wolves, foxes, and other animals who had assembled to feast on the bodies of the slain, are seen sneaking off.

Audubon describes the flight of one of these almost solid masses of birds pursued by a hawk; now darting compactly in undulating and angular lines, now descending close to the earth, and with inconceivable velocity mounting perpendicularly, so as to resemble a vast column, and then wheeling and twisting within their continued lines, resembling the coils of a gigantic serpent. Their assemblages greatly surpass in numbers those of the pinnated grouse already described.

 

HUMMING-BIRDS.

A considerable number of these gem-like members of the feathered tribe make their appearance in summer, even as far north as Canada, and on the sides of the hills rising out of the "Fertile Belt," within sight of Lake Winnipeg,--a region where snow covers the ground for so many months in the year. The most common, as well as the most beautiful, species of these minute birds, is the ruby-throated humming-bird--a name given to it on account of the delicate metallic feathers which glow with ruby lustre on its throat, gleaming in the sunshine like gems of living fire. From the tip of the bill to that of the tail it measures about three and a half inches. The belly is green, and the upper part of the neck, back, and wing-coverts, are of a resplendent and varied green and gold. The breast and lower parts are white, the wings purplish-brown, and the tail partly of the same colour, with the two middle tail-feathers of vivid green.

In the warm climate of the more southern States, the beautiful little ruby-throat is found throughout the winter; and as the summer draws on, the heat in the northern States suiting its delicate constitution, it migrates in large flocks, appearing in the middle States towards the end of April. Tiny as they are, they pass through the air at a rapid rate, and may be seen moving in long undulations, now rising for some distance at an angle of about forty degrees, then falling in a curve. Their long flights are performed at night, it is supposed, as they are found feeding leisurely at all times of the day. Small as they are, from their rapid flight and meteor-like movements they do not fear the largest birds of prey; for even should the lordly eagle venture into their domains, the tiny creatures will attack him without fear: and one has been seen perched on the head of an eagle, at which it was pecking furiously away, scattering the feathers of the huge bird, who flew screaming through the air with alarm, to rid himself of his tiny assailant.

As they fly, the ruby feathers of their throats may be seen changing, according to the light, now into a greenish gold colour, now into a deep brown, again to flash forth with the brilliancy of precious gems. Often they may be observed flying round the deep, cup-shaped calix of the scarlet trumpet-flower, which with its rich foliage clings in clusters round the gnarled stem of some withered oak, clothing it with a verdure not its own. Into these deep and capacious tubes the ruby-throat, with its long bill, probes, and draws forth either the sweets it produces, or picks up the multitude of flies entangled in the nectar.

Although the ruby-throat ventures thus far north, it is very susceptible of cold, and returns southward immediately the summer green of the forest gives place to the golden tints of autumn. Brave and high-spirited as is the little bird, it is easily tamed; and Mr Webber, the naturalist, after many attempts, succeeded in securing several of the species. The first he caught did not flutter, or make the least attempt to escape, but remained quietly in his hand; and he saw, when he opened it, the minute creature lying on his palm, perfectly motionless, feigning most skilfully to be dead; indeed, actually playing "'possum." For some time he watched it with breathless curiosity, when he saw it gradually open its bright little eyes to ascertain whether the way was clear, and then close them slowly as it caught his glance upon it. When a mixture of sugar, water, and honey was brought, and a drop placed on the point of its bill, it came very suddenly to life, and in a moment was on its legs, drinking with eager gusto of the refreshing draught from a silver tea-spoon.

The nest of the ruby-throat is of a most delicate nature; the external parts being formed of a little grey lichen found on the branches of the trees, glued together by the saliva of the bird, and neatly arranged round the whole of the nest, as well as to some distance from the spot where it is attached to the branch or stem itself. The interior is lined with a cottony substance; and the innermost, with the silky fibres obtained from various plants. Within this little nest the female humming-bird lays two white and nearly oval eggs; generally raising two broods in the season. In one week, says Audubon, the young are ready to fly, but are fed by the parents for nearly another week. They receive their food direct from the bill of their parents, who disgorge it in the manner of canaries and pigeons. It is my belief that no sooner are the young able to provide for themselves than they associate with other broods, and perform their migrations apart from the old birds, as I have observed twenty or thirty young humming-birds resort to a group of trumpet-flowers, when not a single old bird was to be seen.

The plumage of the female is in most respects like that of the male, except that she is not possessed of the brilliant feathers on the throat which especially distinguish him.

Although there are several other species of humming-birds which live permanently in the Southern States of the Union, or migrate northward in summer, we cannot now inspect them. We shall have, however, many opportunities of examining a number of the species when we come to visit South America. Although the number of birds and the variety of their species inhabiting North America is very great, except those we have mentioned, they do not in general possess any very interesting peculiarity, which might tempt us to linger longer amongst them, and we will therefore wander on and inspect some of the curious reptiles which inhabit various parts of the American States and Canada.

 

THE COW-BIRD.

The well-known spring visitor to the woods of England,--the cuckoo,--is undoubtedly destitute of family affection, as are others of its relatives; but this is not the case with the whole tribe. As the spring advances, from the sylvan glades of Pennsylvania a curious note, constantly repeated, is heard, resembling the word "cow-cow." It is the note of a bird, and from the sound it resembles it is generally known as the "cow-bird." It is also called the "yellow-billed cuckoo." It is in no respect behind any of its neighbours of the grove in conjugal and parental affection, for it builds its nest, hatches its own eggs, and rears its own young, Wilson assures us. It is about a foot in length, clothed in a dark drab suit with a silken greenish gloss. A ruddy cinnamon tints the quill-feathers of the wings; and the tail consists partly of black feathers tipped with white, the two outer ones being of the same tint as the back. The under surface is a pure white. It has a long curved bill of a greyish-black above, and yellow beneath. The female differs from the male in having the central tail-feathers of a drab colour, while the under part of her body is of a greyish tinge.

Early in the spring the males frequently engage in desperate battles. After these contests are decided, the couples, pairing, begin building their nests, generally among the horizontal branches of an apple-tree. It is roughly formed of sticks and twigs. On this bed the eggs, three or four in number, of a uniform greenish-blue, are placed. While the female is sitting, the male is generally not far off, and gives the alarm by his notes should any person approach. The female sits so close, that she may almost be reached by the hand, and then suddenly precipitates herself to the ground, feigning lameness--to draw away the intruder from the spot--fluttering her wings, and tumbling over in the manner of a partridge, woodcock, and some other birds. Both parents unite in collecting food for the young. This consists, for the most part, of caterpillars, particularly such as infest apple-trees. They are accused, and with some justice, of sucking the eggs of other birds,--like the crow, blue jay, and other pillagers. They also occasionally eat various kinds of berries; but from the circumstance of their destroying numbers of very noxious larvae, they prove themselves the friend of the farmer, and are well deserving of his protection.

 

THE BLUE-BIRD.

While the robin redbreast cheers us in England during winter with its song, the beautiful little blue-bird performs the same office with its rich sweet notes to the inhabitants of the United States; arriving from Mexico, and still further off regions, as soon as the first signs of approaching spring appear--even before the snow has melted away. Associating fearlessly with human beings, it holds the same place in their affections as the robin.

It is about seven inches long--a rich azure-blue covering the whole upper surface of the head and neck, while the quill-feathers of the wing and tail are jet-black. The throat, breast, and sides are of a ruddy chestnut, the lower portion of the body being white. It builds its nest in the hollow of a decayed tree, sheltered from the rain and cold, and there deposits from four to six eggs at a time, generally rearing two, and sometimes three broods in the season. Its food consists chiefly of spiders and small worms, and soft fruits and seeds.

It is a hardy little bird, and makes its way through all parts of the United States; sometimes, indeed, remaining through the whole winter, when it takes shelter in some warm hollow beneath the snow, from whence, when the sun shines forth, it comes out to enjoy its warmth, and to sing a few cheerful notes. It is especially interesting to watch it take care of its nest and young; perching near them and singing merrily, occasionally flying off to procure a caterpillar for their gaping mouths.

So confiding is the blue-bird, that when a box with a hole in it is arranged in some convenient situation near a house, it will at once take possession, building its nest in it, and never failing to utter its sweet music in acknowledgment of the boon.

 

THE SNOW-BIRD.

As the cold winter approaches, large flocks of little birds about six inches in length, with snow-white breasts and slaty-brown or blue backs, make their appearance in the neighbourhood of villages and farmhouses; sometimes, indeed, coming into towns as familiarly as sparrows. Their habits are very like those of sparrows; and when the snow deepens, they mix with them, searching together for the seeds in the sheltered corners of the fields, and along the borders of creeks and fences. They differ from the snow-bunting of the far north, with which they must not be confounded. In the summer they make their way to the northern regions in large flocks, and build their nests together, being of a very sociable disposition.

 

THE CAROLINA PARROT.

While viewing the birds of North America, we cannot pass by the well-known, handsome Carolina parrot, which is, notwithstanding its common name, a species of macaw. Large numbers of these beautiful birds are seen winging their way in compact bodies through the Southern States, flying with great rapidity and uttering a loud outrageous scream, not unlike that of the red-headed woodpecker. Sometimes their flight is in a direct line, but generally they perform a variety of elegant and serpentine meanders in their course through the air. Often they may be seen pitching on the large sycamore-trees, in the hollow trunks of which, as also among the branches, they generally roost-- frequently forty and more together. Here they cling close to the side of the tree, holding fast by claws and bill. No creatures can be more sociable, and they may be observed scratching each other's heads and necks, and always nestling closely together.

Their plumage is mostly green washed with blue, but the forehead is of a reddish-orange--as are the shoulders, head, and wings, while the neck and back of the head are of a bright golden yellow. The wing-coverts are yellow tinged with green. The bird is about twenty-one inches long. The female is much like the male. She makes her nest in the hollows of trees.

The Carolina parrot exhibits great amiability of disposition, and is easily tamed, becoming much attached to those who treat it kindly. It also exhibits the most extraordinary affection for its own race. Wilson the naturalist, having obtained one while on a journey to the Far West, brought it home upwards of one thousand miles in his pocket. It quickly learned to know its name, and would immediately come when called. Procuring a cage, he placed the parrot under a piazza, where, by its call, it soon attracted the passing flocks of its relatives. Numerous parties frequently alighted on the trees immediately above, keeping up a constant conversation with the prisoner. One of these was wounded and captured. Poll evinced the greatest pleasure on meeting with this new companion. She crept close up to it, chattering in a low tone of voice, as if sympathising in its misfortune, scratching its head and neck with her bill--at night, both nestling as closely as possible to each other, sometimes Poll's head being thrust amongst the plumage of the other. The stranger, however, died, and Poll appeared restless and inconsolable for several days. On a looking-glass, however, being procured, the instant she perceived her image all her former fondness seemed to return, so that she could scarcely absent herself from it for a moment. It was evident she was completely deceived. Often when evening drew on, as also during the day, she laid her head close to that of the image in the glass, and began to dose with great composure and satisfaction.

On another occasion several of these birds were shot down, when the whole flock swept rapidly round their prostrate companions, and settled on a low tree within twenty yards of them. Although many were killed, the rest, instead of flying away, continued looking down at their dead companions with manifest signs of sympathy and concern.

They render the farmer great service, by eating the cockle-burs which grow on the rich alluvial soil of Carolina. This prickly fruit is apt to come off on the wool of the sheep, which, in some places, it almost completely destroys. The bird also lives on the beech-nut and seeds of the cypress. The head--with the brains--and intestines of the Carolina parrot are said to be poisonous to eat; but how far such is the case seems to be a matter of doubt.

Its chief abode is along the shores of the Mississippi, and it reaches the neighbourhood of Lake Michigan; but eastward of the Alleghany Mountains it is seldom met with further north than the State of Maryland. Far more hardy than the generality of the parrot tribe, a flock has been seen facing a snow-storm along the banks of the Ohio. _

Read next: Part 1: Chapter 9. Reptiles

Read previous: Part 1: Chapter 7. Carnivora

Table of content of Western World Sketches of Nature and Natural History in North & South America


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book