Transcriber’s Note:
  See also the companion book “Illustrations of the Birds of Jamaica”




                                  THE
                           BIRDS OF JAMAICA.

                                   BY
                          PHILIP HENRY GOSSE;

            ASSISTED BY RICHARD HILL, ESQ., OF SPANISH-TOWN.

                                LONDON:
                   JOHN VAN VOORST, PATERNOSTER ROW.
                             M.DCCC.XLVII.


                                LONDON:
          Printed by +S. & J. Bentley+, +Wilson+, and +Fley+,
                        Bangor House, Shoe Lane.




                                PREFACE.


White of Selbourne has somewhere expressed the gratification which
would be afforded to him by a sight of the _hirundines_ of the “hot and
distant island” of Jamaica. We know, in fact, exceedingly little of
the _biography_ of tropical animals—of those details of their habits,
which are to be known only by a close and continued observation of them
in their woodland homes. The present volume may perhaps contribute
an acceptable item to the amount of information, derived, as it is,
entirely from original investigation. Nearly two hundred species of
birds are thus ascertained to belong to the Jamaica Fauna, though of
several of these, the author can give only indications more or less
precise. He cannot doubt that many species have escaped the researches
both of himself and his friends, especially among the migrant visitors.
The valuable assistance, however, of a resident Ornithologist, whose
notes _pervade_ this volume, and to whom he would here express his deep
gratitude, have greatly diminished the omissions which must otherwise
have been unavoidable.

Perhaps a word of apology may be thought needful for the minuteness
with which the author has sometimes recorded dates, and other
apparently trivial circumstances, in his observations. It is because of
his conviction, that an observer is hardly competent to determine what
circumstance is trivial, and what is important: many a recorded fact
in science has lost half its value from the omission of some attendant
circumstance, which the observer either did not notice, or thought
irrelevant. It is better to err on the side of minuteness than of
vagueness.

The author takes this opportunity of proffering his cordial thanks
to those friends in Jamaica who kindly assisted his investigations;
and particularly to Andrew G. Johnston, Esq., of Portland, and George
Wilkie, Esq., of Spanish-town.

  +London+, March, 1847.




                                SYNOPSIS
                                 OF THE
                           BIRDS OF JAMAICA.


  +Order.+—ACCIPITRES.

  +Fam.+—VULTURIDÆ.
  Cathartes aura.

  +Fam.+—FALCONIDÆ.
  Buteo borealis.
  Falco anatum.
        columbarius.
  [Morphnus urubitinga.
  [Pandion Carolinensis.
  [Nauclerus furcatus.

  +Fam.+—STRIGIDÆ.
  Ephialtes grammicus.
  Strix pratincola.


  +Order.+—PASSERES.

  +Fam.+—CAPRIMULGIDÆ.
  Chordeiles Virginianus.
  Nyctibius Jamaicensis.
            pallidus.

  +Fam.+—HIRUNDINIDÆ.
  Acanthylis collaris?
  Tachornis phœnicobia.
  Cypselus niger.
  Hirundo pœciloma.
          euchrysea.
  Progne Dominicensis.

  +Fam.+—TODIDÆ.
  Todus viridis.

  +Fam.+—ALCEDINIDÆ.
  Ceryle alcyon.

  +Fam.+—NECTARINIADÆ.
  Certhiola flaveola.
            maritima.

  +Fam.+—TROCHILIDÆ.
  Lampornis mango.
  Trochilus polytmus.
  Mellisuga humilis.

  +Fam.+—CERTHIADÆ.
  Mniotilta varia.

  +Fam.+—TURDIDÆ.
  Merula leucogenys.
         Jamaicensis.
  [Turdus mustelinus.
  Mimus polyglottus.
  Trichas Marylandica.
  Vermivora Pennsylvanica.
  Seiurus Noveboracensis.
          aurocapillus.
  Parula Americana.
  Sylvicola coronata.
            pensilis.
            æstiva.
            eoa.
            discolor.
            Canadensis.
            pannosa.
            pharetra.

  +Fam.+—MUSCICAPADÆ.
  Setophaga ruticilla.
  Myiobius pallidus.
           tristis.
           stolidus.
  Tyrannus Dominicensis.
           caudifasciatus.
           crinitus.
  Tityra leuconotus.
  Vireo Noveboracensis.
  Vireosylva olivacea.

  +Fam.+—AMPELIDÆ.
  [Ampelis Carolinensis.
  Ptilogonys armillatus.

  +Fam.+—CORVIDÆ.
  Cyanocorax pileatus.
  Corvus Jamaicensis.

  +Fam.+—STURNIDÆ.
  Quiscalus crassirostria.
  Icterus leucopteryx.
  [    ——?
  [    ——?
  Dolichonyx oryzivorus.

  +Fam.+—FRINGILLADÆ.
  Tanagra Zena.
  Pyranga rubra.
  Tanagrella ruficollis.
  Euphonia Jamaica.
  Coturniculus tixicrus.
  Crithagra Brasiliensis.
  Spermophila anoxantha.
              olivacea.
              bicolor.
              adoxa.
  Pyrrhula violacea.
  [        Robinsonii?
  [Guiraca Ludoviciana.


  +Order.+—SCANSORES.

  +Fam.+—PSITTACIDÆ.
  Ara tricolor?
  [      aracanga.
  [      ararauna.
  [      militaris.
  Conurus flaviventer.
  Psittacus agilis.
            leucocephalus.

  +Fam.+—PICIDÆ.
  Picus varius.
  Centurus radiolatus.

  +Fam.+—CUCULIDÆ.
  Saurothera vetula.
  Piaya pluvialis.
  Coccyzus Americanus.
           seniculus.
  Crotophaga ani.


  +Order.+—GYRANTES.

  +Fam.+—COLUMBADÆ.
  Columba Caribbea.
          rufina.
          leucocephala.
  Turtur leucopterus.
  Zenaida amabilis.
  Chamæpelia passerina.
  Peristera Jamaicensis.
  Geotrygon sylvatica.
            montana.
  Starnænas cyanocephala?


  +Order.+—GALLINÆ.

  +Fam.+—PHASIANIDÆ.
  Numida meleagris.

  +Fam.+—TETRAONIDÆ.
  Ortyx Virginiana.


  +Order.+—GRALLÆ.

  +Fam.+—CHARADRIADÆ.
  Ægialites melodus.
            vociferus.
  [         semipalmatus.
  [Charadrius Virginiacus.
  [Squatarola Helvetica.
  [Strepsilas interpres.

  +Fam.+—ARDEADÆ.
  Egretta nivea.
          candidissima.
          cœrulea.
          ruficollis.
  Herodias virescens.
  Ardeola exilis.
  Nycticorax Americanus.
  [Ardea Herodias.
  [Egretta leuce?
  [Botaurus minor.
  [Platalea ajaja.
  [Ibis rubra.
  [Numenius longirostris.
  [         Hudsonicus?

  +Fam.+—SCOLOPACIDÆ.
  Pelidna pusilla.
  Actitis macularius.
  Totanus chloropygius.
          flavipes.
          melanoleucus?
  Gallinago Wilsoni.
  [Tringa canutus.
  [Calidris arenaria.
  [Catoptrophorus semipalmatus.
  [Rusticola minor.

  +Fam.+—RALLIDÆ.
  Aramus scolopaceus.
  Rallus longirostris.
         concolor.
  Ortygometra Carolina.
              minuta.
              Jamaicensis.
  Porphyrio Martinica.
  Gallinula galeata.
  Fulica Americana.

  +Fam.+—RECURVIROSTRADÆ.
  Himantopus nigricollis.
  [Recurvirostra Americana.


  +Order.+—ANSERES.

  +Fam.+—ANATIDÆ.
  Phœnicopterus ruber.
  Dendrocygna arborea.
  [           autumnalis.
  Anas maxima.
  Cyanopterus discors.
              inornatus.
  Erismatura spinosa.
  [          ortygoides.
  [Chen hyperboreus.
  [Anser Canadensis.
  [Dafila acuta.
  [Pœcilonetta Bahamensis.
  [Mareca Americana.
  [Aix sponsa.
  [Querquedula Carolinensis.
  [Rhynchaspis clypeata.
  [Chaulelasmus streperus.
  [Anas obscura.
  [     boschas.
  [Cairina moschata.
  [Oidemia perspicillata.
  [Fuligula Americana.
  [         affinis.
  [         rufitorques.
  [Nyroca leucophthalma.

  +Fam.+—PELECANIDÆ.
  Pelecanus fuscus.
  Sula fusca.
  [    fiber.
  [    piscator.
  [    parva.
  Fregata aquilus.
  Phaeton æthereus.

  +Fam.+—LARIDÆ.
  Thalasseus Cayanus.
  Hydrochelidon fuliginosa.
  [Megalopterus stolidus.
  [Thalasseus Cantiacus.
  [Sterna argentea.
  [Hydrochelidon nigra.
  [Xema atricilla.

  +Fam.+—PROCELLARIADÆ.
  [Thalassidroma ——?

  +Fam.+—ALCADÆ.
  [Alca ——?

  +Fam.+—COLYMBIDÆ.
  Podilymbus Carolinensis?
  Podiceps Dominicus.




                                ERRATA.


  Page  Line
    33,  2,  for   “_Falcons_,”          read  _Nightjars_.
    64,  5,   ”    “_pæciloma_,”           ”   _pœciloma_.
   113, 15,  after “into,”                 ”   our.
   170, 19,  for   “On their return  }        {The migrant
                    in spring, they,”}     ”  {visitors.
   185,  8,   ”    “_voltigant_”           ”  _voltigent_.
   286,  2,   ”    “and,”                  ”  I.




                         THE BIRDS OF JAMAICA.

                +Order.+—ACCIPITRES. (_Birds of prey._)
                  +Fam.+—VULTURIDÆ. (_The Vultures._)

                         JOHN-CROW VULTURE.[1]

                     (_Turkey-buzzard._—+Wilson.+)

                           _Cathartes aura._

          _Vultur aura_,            +Linn.+
          _Cathartes aura_,         +Illiger+.—Aud. pl. 151.

  [1] Length 25¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 66, tail 9¹⁄₂, wing from flexure
  20¹⁄₄, rictus 2²⁄₁₀, tarsus 3, middle toe 2¹⁄₁₀, claw ⁹⁄₁₀.

The history of this species has been so ably written by Wilson
and Audubon, that I shall do little more than touch on one or two
disputed points in its economy. An excellent memoir of this Vulture,
communicated to me by my valued friend Richard Hill, Esq., of
Spanish-town, affords some interesting particulars:—

“Notwithstanding it forms so common a feature in our landscapes, being
seen every day and every where, on the mountain as well as in the
plain, in the city as well as in the country, the Aura is not common
to the West Indies. It exists in Cuba and Trinidad, but is unknown in
Hayti, and in all the intermediate islands of the Caribbean chain. We
are no doubt indebted for it to an accidental colony blown over to us
from Cuba, and Cuba herself owes it to some stray visitants from the
neighbouring continent of Florida. Some similar fortuity imparted to us
in common with Cuba, from America, its naturalized hive-bee, which is
said to have been, at comparatively a late period, an introduction into
St. Domingo.

“Those who ascribe the power which the Vulture possesses of discerning
from a distance its carrion food, to the sense of seeing or to the
sense of smelling, _exclusively_, appear to me to be both in error. It
is the two senses, exerted sometimes singly, but generally unitedly,
which give the facility which it possesses of tracing its appropriate
food from far distances. * * * * I shall relate one or two occurrences,
which seem to me to be instances in which the sense of seeing and the
sense of smelling were sometimes separately and sometimes unitedly
exerted by the Vulture in its quest for food.

“A poor German immigrant who lived alone in a detached cottage in
this town, rose from his bed after a two days’ confinement by fever,
to purchase in the market some fresh meat for a little soup. Before
he could do more than prepare the several ingredients of herbs and
roots, and put his meat in water for the preparation of his pottage,
the paroxysm of fever had returned, and he laid himself on his bed
exhausted. Two days elapsed in this state of helplessness and
inanition; by which time the mass of meat and pot-herbs had putrefied.
The stench becoming very perceptible in the neighbourhood, Vulture
after Vulture as they sailed past were observed always to descend to
the cottage of the German, and to sweep round, as if they had tracked
some putrid carcase, but failed to find exactly where it was. This led
the neighbours to apprehend that the poor man lay dead in his cottage,
as no one had seen him for the two days last past. His door was broken
open; he was found in a state of helpless feebleness, but the room was
most insufferably offensive from something putrefying, which could not
immediately be found, for the fever having deprived the German of his
wits, he had no recollection of his uncooked mess of meat and herbs. No
one imagining that the kitchen pot could contain anything offensive,
search was made everywhere but in the right place: at last the pot-lid
was lifted, and the cause of the insupportable stench discovered in the
corrupted soup-meat.

“Here we have the sense of smelling directing the Vultures, without
any assistance from the sense of sight, and discovering unerringly the
locality of the putrid animal matter, when even the neighbours were at
fault in their patient search.

“Some few days succeeding this occurrence, after a night and morning
of heavy rain, in which our streets had been inundated to the depth
of a foot, and flood after flood had been sweeping to the river the
drainage of the whole town,—a piece of recent offal had been brought
down from some of the yards where an animal had been slaughtered, and
lodged in the street. A Vulture beating about in search of food, dashed
in a slanting direction from a considerable height, and just resting,
without closing his wings, snatched up the fresh piece of flesh, and
carried it off.

“Here was the sense of sight unassisted by that of smelling, for the
meat was too recent to communicate any taint to the morning air, and
the Vulture stooped to it from a very far distance.

“On another occasion very near to the time when these facts attracted
my notice, a dead rat had been thrown out, early in the morning, into
the street, having been caught in the previous night. Two Vultures
sailing over head in quest of a morning meal, descended at the same
time, stooping to the dead rat, the one from the south, the other from
the north, and both seized the object of attraction at the same moment.

“Here again was the vision, unaided by the sensitiveness of the
nostrils, directing _two_ birds with the same appetite, at the same
moment, to the same object.

“For the next example, I am indebted to the records of a Police Court.
A clerk in the engineer department at Up-park Camp, brought before
the magistrates of St. Andrew’s, on the 20th of January, 1840, a man
who had been beset in the night by the dogs of the barracks. The
poultry-yard had been repeatedly robbed; and this person was supposed
to have been prowling after the roost-fowls, at the time the dogs rose
upon him.” This case had been heard, and the man committed to the
House of Correction, when a complaint was presented against another
man whom Major G., also of the camp, had detected under similar
circumstances, and lodged in the guard-house. Two days after his
detection, “the Major observed some Carrion-Vultures, hovering about
a spot in the fields, and on sending to see what was the matter, a
Kilmarnock cap containing a dead fowl, and some eggs, tied up in a pair
of old trousers, was found very near to the spot, where the prisoner
was caught. This discovery by the aid of the Vultures confirming the
suspicion against the prisoner, he was condemned.

“The last instance that I shall relate is one in which the senses of
hearing, seeing, and smelling were all exercised; but not under the
influence of the usual appetite for carrion food, but where the object
was a living, though wounded animal.

“A person in the neighbourhood of the town, having his pastures much
trespassed on by vagrant hogs, resorted to his gun to rid himself of
the annoyance. A pig which had been mortally wounded, and had run
squealing and trailing his blood through the grass, had not gone far
before it fell in the agonies of death. At the moment the animal was
perceived to be unable to rise, three Vultures at the same instant
descended upon it, attracted no doubt by the cries of the dying pig,
and by the scent of its reeking blood; and while it was yet struggling
for life, began to tear open its wounds and devour it.

“These several instances, I think, abundantly shew that all the senses
are put in requisition by the John-crow Vulture in its quest for food.”

From the facts thus presented by Mr. Hill we gather also, that the
common opinion is erroneous, which attributes to the Vulture a
confinement of appetite to flesh in a state of decomposition. Flesh
is his food; and that he does not pounce upon living prey like the
falcons, is because his structure is not adapted for predatory warfare,
and not because he refuses recent, and even living flesh, when in his
power. If the John-crow Vulture discovers a weakling new-born pig apart
from the rest, he will descend, and seizing it with his beak, will
endeavour to drag it away; its cries of course bring the mother, but
before she can come, the Vulture gives it a severe nip across the back,
which soon ensures the pig for his own maw. If a large hog be lying in
a sick condition beneath a tree, the Vulture will not hesitate to pick
out its eyes, having first muted upon the body, that it may discover
whether the animal be able to rise; the contact of the hot fæces
arousing the hog if he be not too far gone. Cattle also he will attack
under similar circumstances. One of my servants once saw a living dog
partly devoured by one. The dogs of the negroes, half-starved at home,
“bony, and gaunt, and grim,” if they discover carrion, will gorge
themselves until they can hardly stir, when they lie down and sleep
with death-like intensity. A large dog thus gorged, was sleeping under
a tree, when a John-crow descended upon him, perhaps attracted by
the smell of the carrion which the dog had been devouring, and began
tearing the muscles of the thigh: it actually laid open a considerable
space, before the poor animal was aroused by the pain and started up
with a howl of agony. The wound was dressed, but the dog soon died.

A notion is very prevalent, that the Vulture refuses the flesh of its
own kind; or that if there ever be an exception, it is only when the
stomach of the dead bird is filled with carrion. This I have proved to
be unfounded. I shot one in August, the body of which I threw out; in
a very few minutes it was surrounded by others, and the bones picked
clean, though the stomach was nearly empty, and the body had no odour
of carrion.

“The Aura Vultures,” says Mr. Hill, “are often to be observed soaring
in companies, particularly previous to a thunder-storm. This occurrence
is commonly remarked, because at almost all other times this species is
seen solitary, or, at most, scouring the country in pairs. They appear
to delight in the hurly-burly of transient squalls, gathering together,
and sweeping round in oblique circles, as the fitful gust favours them
with an opportunity of rising through the blast, or winging onwards
through the misty darkness of the storm. The effect which this imparts
to a tropical landscape at a time when thick clouds are upon the
mountains, and all vegetation is bending beneath the sudden rush of the
tempest, as gust gathers louder and louder, is particularly wild and
exciting. Ordinarily, however, in the evening, when the sea-breeze is
lulling, and the fading day-beam is changing like the hues of the dying
dolphin, they delight to congregate, and career at an immense height.
At this time they soar so loftily, that they are scarcely discernible
as they change their position in wheeling from shade into light, and
from light into shade. They seem as if they rose upward to follow the
fading day-light, and to revel in the departing sunbeams, as, one after
the other, the varying hues are withdrawn, or irradiate only the upper
heavens.

“There is a salacious predilection of the Aura Vulture for the black
hen of the poultry-yard, and the black turkey, supported by so many
well-authenticated instances, that I cannot doubt the fact. It is said
that the Vulture on these occasions makes its amorous attack with an
eagerness assuming the character of ungovernable fury. Fear overcomes
the hen, and the sudden assault terminates in an embrace, from which
she escapes only to linger and die in a very short time. A sort of
_carcinoma uteri_ is the consequence. * * *

“This is altogether a curious and very unaccountable fact. Those
who know how difficult it is to bend instinctive nature, and induce
the union of animals different and yet similar, will perceive the
perplexity in which this occurrence is involved. The only link of
relationship in these events, is the very distant similitude of colour;
for the unnatural predilection is restricted to fowls of black plumage.”

I may add that on my reading the above notes of my friend, I mentioned
this statement to my negro servants, both of whom assured me that the
fact was indubitable, and well known; and each of them averred that he
had witnessed its occurrence.

The dimensions in the note, p. 1, were those of the largest of two
adult males of the ordinary size, which, however, is considerably less
than that of continental specimens. The tongue is singularly formed,
and may be termed spoon-shaped; or rather it is a half-tube, curved
in its length, having its edges, which are bony, cut into minute and
beautifully regular teeth, pointing backwards. The skin of the head
is naked, except some small scattered hairs, and falls on the occiput
into ten or twelve transverse wrinkles; its colour varies in the same
individual, being sometimes purple, then in a few minutes bright red;
when dead, it is a dull lake-pink. The feet are scaly, white; or
rather dull reddish, covered more or less with a white scurf; the red
hue is most apparent at the upper part of the tarsus; the claws are
horny black. Immediately in front of the eye is a series of irregular
tuberculous excrescences of a dull white, varying in extent.

Like many black birds this Vulture is subject to albinism. There was a
pied one, which for a long time had been occasionally seen in company
with others over Bluefields and the vicinity. I at length invited him
with some flesh, and lying in wait, shot him. The white feathers were
promiscuously interspersed, chiefly on the shoulders, breast, upper and
under tail-coverts, and wing-quills; some of the longest primaries
were wholly, others partially, white; but the wings were not uniform
in the distribution of the colours. This individual was recognisable
almost as far as visible; for the white was very pure. Some, however,
are found much more completely white than this; my negro lad, Sam, had
seen one which had the wings wholly white except some of the least
coverts; and the breast also white.

The situations usually selected in Jamaica by this Vulture for the
laying and hatching of its eggs, are hollows and ledges of rocks in
secluded places, or inaccessible crags and cliffs. A little dry trash
or decaying leaves, are all the apology for a nest. A young one taken
in such a situation, and brought to me in May, was nearly full-fledged,
but bore little resemblance to the adult. The whole body, with the
exception of the winglet, the wing quills, and the tail, was clothed
with down of the purest white, while the naked head with the beak was
black. The eyes, as usual in young birds, were blue-grey. It smelled
strongly, unbearably, of musk; was very fierce, tilting at every thing,
striking with the wings, and leaping forward to bite. It kept up a
continued harsh hissing. The nest contained two young, but they had
begun to wander, though as yet unable to fly.


                   +Fam.+—FALCONIDÆ. (_The Falcons._)

                         RED-TAILED BUZZARD.[2]

                            _Chicken Hawk._

                           _Buteo borealis._

          _Falco borealis_,         +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 51.
          _Falco Jamaicensis_,      +Gmel.+
          _Buteo borealis_,         +Bechst.+

  [2] Length 20 inches, expanse 44¹⁄₂, tail 7¹⁄₂, flexure 13¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 3³⁄₄, middle toe 1¹⁄₂, claw 1.

This Buzzard, which we learn from Wilson is spread over the United
States, is the most common raptorial bird in Jamaica. Permanent, not
migratory, we see it all the year round, sailing deliberately in wide
circles over the pastures and ruinates, now near the ground, but
presently soaring into the upper air, each circle higher and higher
till the bird is lost in the glare of a tropical sky. It is common to
see two individuals of this species in company, sailing each in its own
circle, but intersecting the other; and as they thus fly, they utter
from time to time a sudden energetic cry, “_pinyee_.”

The frequency of this bird’s depredations on the poultry of the
homestead, has given it a provincial appellation. In the stomach of
one, examined by Wilson, he found, however, the remains of frogs and
lizards. Its courage is not proportioned to its size or arms. Not long
ago, near Bluefields, two of these Hawks swooped together upon a white
barn-door cock, who defended himself so vigorously and so successfully
as to keep them both at bay for some time, until, help coming, both the
marauders were shot.

Some observations of Mr. Hill’s, on the flight of the birds of prey,
elicited by a few remarks in a letter from a friend, appeared to me so
interesting, that he kindly placed both in my hands, for the advantage
of the present work; and I here present them to my readers.


           _Samuel R. Ricketts, Esq., to Richard Hill, Esq._

  “With regard to Hawks, I have had many opportunities of observing
  their habits here, as I have a large common, and a flock of
  turkeys. They perform successive circular movements in the air,
  and their pounce is done by closing the wings upwards. They appear
  to be falling, when doing so. A chicken was taken here some days
  ago from the roof of the house, having fallen from the talons of a
  Hawk I was in pursuit of. The South American Hawks fly higher, and
  in larger circles, than those of Europe:—why, I cannot tell, but
  such is the fact. I speak from personal observation. Our Hawk has a
  peculiar note in very dry weather, and is then said by the negroes
  to be “calling the rain.”


                    _Richard Hill, Esq., in Reply._

  “Your observation about the widened circuit which the Hawks of this
  country, and those of South America generally, take when surveying
  their prey, has led me to trouble you with the following remarks on
  the flight of raptorial birds.

  “Raptorial birds that take their quarry on the ground, as we
  very well know, before they seize their prey, attentively survey
  it; keeping it in view by sailing round and round it. In these
  circumgyratory evolutions they leisurely gaze down on their
  intended victim, and then descend circle by circle, to pounce on it
  with a swoop.

  “The attention of birds in ordinary or direct flight is immediately
  fixed on the objects before them. The swiftness with which they
  shoot through the air makes every visual impression indistinct
  and evanescent on either side of them. If they take wing for a
  distance, they rise at once high, that they may command a view
  of the place which they intend to visit; and if they proceed to
  an object that is near, they elevate themselves to such a height
  only as is necessary to give them a clear and direct course to
  where they are speeding. The circular flight of raptorial birds,
  is therefore the result of their directing their vision to the
  centre of the gyrations they describe in examining their prey, or
  descending upon their victims.

  “The eye of all birds is large and prominent. The prominence widens
  the field of vision. The width of the circle which the several
  kinds of raptorial birds variously describe, I think, as a rule,
  will be found to be determined by the size of the head and position
  of the eyes, or increased with the rotundity of the head of the
  bird. The direct vision being altered with the increase of space
  between the eyes, Hawks of the Buzzard kind, which have large and
  round heads, may be expected to wheel in wide circles; the expanded
  space being required, that they may keep the vision of their
  wide-apart eyes direct upon the objects beneath them.

  “Owls fly differently. They search for their prey, as if they were
  pursuing it with the vigilance of the hound. They skim along the
  surface of the earth, glide among trees, explore avenues, sweep
  round, rise and fall, wheel short, and dart down, but never sail in
  circles. Their wide staring eyes are placed in what may be called
  their face, being right forward in front, and have scarcely any
  field of vision laterally. They therefore hunt with a forward and
  downward gaze, like dogs over a field. The globe of the eye of
  these nocturnal _raptores_, being immoveably fixed in the socket
  by a strong elastic cartilaginous case, in the form of a truncated
  cone, they have to turn their heads to view objects out of the path
  of flight, and their neck is so adapted for this exertion, that
  they can with ease turn round the head in almost a complete circle,
  without moving the body.”

I have never met with the nest of this Hawk; nor has Wilson given us
any information concerning it; but a young friend, very conversant
with out-of-door natural history, informs me that he lately knew of
one, a large mass near the top of an immense cotton-tree into which he
observed the old birds frequently go. It was at Content, in the parish
of St. Elizabeth. The gigantic dimensions assumed by the _Ceiba_, which
strike a stranger with astonishment, combined with the smoothness of
the trunk, rendered its summit perfectly inaccessible, and prevented
particular examination. At length he witnessed the emergence of two
young ones, and their first essay at flight. He assures me that he
distinctly saw the parent bird, after the first young one had flown a
little way, and was beginning to flutter downward,—he saw the mother,
for the mother surely it was,—fly beneath it, and present her back and
wings for its support. He cannot say that the young actually rested
on, or even touched the parent;—perhaps its confidence returned on
seeing support so near, so that it managed to reach a dry tree; when
the other little one, invited by the parent, tried its infant wings in
like manner. This touching manifestation of parental solicitude is used
by the Holy Spirit in the Song of Moses, to illustrate the tenderness
of love with which Jehovah led his people Israel about, and cared for
them in the wilderness. “As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth
over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them
on her wings; so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange
God with him.”—(Deut. xxxii. 12.—See also Exod. xix. 4.)


                         GREAT-FOOTED HAWK.[3]

                              _Duck-Hawk._

                            _Falco anatum._

          _Falco Peregrinus_,       +Wilson+.—Aud. pl. 16.
          _Falco anatum_,           +Bonap.+

  [3] Length 20 inches, expanse—? tail 7, flexure 14¹⁄₈, rictus 1¹⁄₂,
  tarsus 2²⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁹⁄₁₀, claw ⁹⁄₁₀.

The only individual of this species that has fallen under my notice is
a preserved specimen, now before me, which was obtained and prepared
at the Pedro Kays, about the end of March, 1846. The rocks so named,
of which I may have an opportunity of speaking more at large, are
situated about sixty miles to the south of the western end of Jamaica,
forming the prominent points of a large shoal, which is marked on
the old Spanish charts as the Vibora bank. The islets or kays are
the habitation of immense numbers of sea-fowl, especially Boobies
and Terns; and the eggs of the latter form no unimportant article of
commerce. Several small vessels are annually sent from Kingston and
other ports, in the month of March, which return loaded with eggs: and
parties are often made by sporting gentlemen, to enjoy the pleasure of
shooting on these desert rocks.

It is to the politeness of George Wilkie, Esq., who visited the Kays in
the past Spring, that I am indebted for the present specimen, shot by
him.

In the United States this bird is found to prey principally upon ducks,
which it appears to strike with its feet, but allows to drop to the
ground before it secures them. If, as is probable, its predilection
extends to other aquatic birds, its presence at the Pedro Kays, where
such prey abounds, on which it may riot undisturbed, is not surprising.
But, as the period of its occurrence is that of the migration of many
species of ducks from the Spanish main to the United States, our bird
may have been a follower, with predatory intent, of some of the many
bands of migrant ducks which were passing the rocks about that time.

The Prince of Canino has separated this species from the Peregrine
Falcon of Europe, with which it was supposed to be identical. The
European bird, which was renowned as the Tiercel and the Faucon of
falconry, is inferior in its dimensions to our species.


                            PIGEON-HAWK.[4]

                          _Falco columbarius._

          _Falco columbarius_,      +Linn.+—+Wils.+
          _Falco temerarius_,       +Aud.+ pl. 75.

  [4] Length 12 inches, expanse 25, tail 4⁴⁄₁₀, flexure 7⁴⁄₁₀, rictus
  ⁸⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe 1, claw ¹⁄₂, closed wings 1¹⁄₂ inch
  short of the tip of the tail.

Though of small size, this bird is not lacking in spirit and courage,
often striking at prey nearly as large as itself. It hovers about
the savannas, frequently flying very near the grass or bushes, but
it seems to have favourite resorts. In the guinea-grass piece of
Mount Edgecumbe, which stretches along the sea-shore from Belmont to
Crab-pond, there are several hoary cotton-trees, (_Ceiba eriodendron_)
of giant size, around which I have rarely failed to see more than
one of these little Hawks. From one to another of these they sail
on graceful wing, usually alighting on a prominent branch, near the
summit. One which I shot from such a station, manifested no alarm at
being aimed at, but peeped down as if its curiosity were excited. The
smaller pigeons form the principal prey of this species; but sometimes
it appears to be unequal to the conquest of its quarry. My lad observed
a Hawk, one day, chasing a Pea-dove, which at length took refuge in a
low bush, but was followed by the Hawk; the shaking of the bush showed
that a struggle was going on, which seems to have terminated in favour
of the gentle Dove, for presently both emerged, the Dove flew off, and
the Hawk alighted on a tree close by; this same individual, being shot
and wounded, fought bravely with both beak and feet, drawing blood from
the hands of its slayer.

The Anis are acquainted with his prowess, and indicate their fear by
loud cries of warning to their fellows, huddling away to the nearest
bush. The Petchary and Loggerhead Tyrants are often pursued by him, but
often escape; for it is remarkable, that if his swoop is ineffectual,
he does not repeat it, but flies off. I have seen one descend upon a
flock of Tinkling Grakles, causing the whole body to curve downward
in their flight, and alight on a neighbouring tree. But it is said to
feed, in lack of better prey, upon beetles and dragonflies.

This species, which is a summer visitant of the United States, is a
permanent resident in Jamaica; but I know nothing of its nest.

                   *       *       *       *       *

In addition to the Falconidæ already mentioned, the following species
have occurred in Jamaica to the observation of Mr. Hill:—

The Eagle-hawk (_Morphnus urubitinga._—+Cuv.+)

The Fish Hawk (_Pandion Carolinensis._—+Bon.+)

The Fork-tailed Kite (_Nauclerus furcatus._—+Vig.+)


                     +Fam.+—STRIGIDÆ. (_The Owls._)

                          DUSKY EARED-OWL.[5]

                     _Ephialtes grammicus._—+mihi.+

  [5] Length 14 inches, expanse 31, tail 4⁶⁄₁₀, flexure 9¹⁄₄, rictus
  1⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus 2, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀, claw ⁷⁄₁₀.

  Irides hazel; pupils very large, blue; beak pale blue-grey; feet
  dull lead colour; claws horny grey; cere blackish-grey. General
  plumage above dusky brown, becoming on the head and under parts,
  umber: each feather marked with a medial band of blackish hue, and
  several undulated transverse bars of the same. Egrets of about ten
  feathers, forming conical _horns_ about 1 inch high, giving the
  countenance a great resemblance to that of a cat. Facial feathers
  unwebbed, pale umber; those of inner angle of eye, setaceous,
  black; operculum edged with black; scaly, sub-aural feathers pale
  fawn-colour, with arrowy centres of black; the outermost rows
  also mottled with black at the tip; these feathers meet under
  the chin in a ruff. Feathers of back, rump, tail, scapulars, and
  wing-coverts, minutely pencilled with blackish; shoulders deepening
  into almost black; primary greater coverts very dark. Quills and
  tail pale brown, with broad transverse bars, and minute pencillings
  of black, confused on the tertials. Wings short, rounded, hollow;
  third, fourth, fifth, sixth quills subequal. Breast bright umber,
  with transverse wavy mottlings, and a dash of dark brown down each
  feather. Belly, thighs, and vent, plain fawn-colour; the feathers
  downy, filamentous. Under wing-coverts yellowish-brown, a little
  mottled, the greater broadly tipped with black. Quills beneath,
  basal half pale-yellowish, apical half nearly as above. Whole
  tarsus feathered.

  Intestinal canal 17 inches long; 2 cœca, distant 2 inches from the
  cloaca, 2¹⁄₂ inches long, slender at their base, dilating into
  sacs, thin, and full of dark liquid.

I have not been able to find any published description of this
well-marked Owl. In the MSS. of Dr. Robinson,[6] however, there is a
very elaborate description of the species, drawn up from an adult male,
but agreeing with mine, which is from a female; save that he applies
the term _cinnamon_, to the parts which I designate as _umber_. Three
individuals, all females, have at separate times come into my hands,
two of which were immature, as manifested by the downiness of the
plumage. One of these was brought me on the 31st of March by a man who
obtained it on Bluefields Mountain. He was engaged in felling a tree,
in which the bird was; being disturbed it flew to another at a short
distance, when it was struck down with a stick. The time was about
noon. The person informed me that he had seen the bird there before,
in company with another, which he supposed to be its mate. The stomach
of this specimen, a large muscular sac, was filled with an immense
quantity of slender bones, which appeared to be those of Anoles, as I
discovered by the iguaniform teeth of at least five sets of jaws, of
various sizes. They were enveloped in a quantity of fetid, black fluid.
There were also the remains of beetles, and of orthopterous insects.

  [6] Dr. Anthony Robinson, a surgeon practising in Jamaica about
  the middle of the last century, accumulated a very large mass of
  valuable information on the Zoology and Botany of the island,
  which is contained in five folio MS. volumes, in the possession
  of the Jamaica Society at Kingston. The specific descriptions,
  admeasurements, and details of colouring are executed with an
  elaborate accuracy worthy of a period of science far advanced of
  that in which he lived. Accompanying the MSS. are several volumes
  of carefully executed drawings, mostly coloured. To these volumes
  I have been indebted, as the reader will find, for many valuable
  notes, which I thus acknowledge with gratitude.

Of another, the adult from which my description was taken, struck down
while sitting on a mango tree at Tait-Shafton, on the morning of April
6th,—the stomach was stuffed with the hair and bones of a portion of a
rat, and the legs of a large spider; a _Lycosa_, as I believe—certainly
a ground spider. Most of the eggs in the ovary were minute, though some
were as large as mustard-seed; by which I gathered that the period of
incubation was yet distant, though the spring was so far advanced.

The third I had the advantage of seeing alive: one whose downiness
indicated youth, was brought me on the 24th of the same month. Its
imbecility by day was shewn by the mode of its capture. It was in a
small tree on Bluefields Mountain, when a boy, by shaking the tree,
caused it to fall to the ground, where it lay helpless. It was cross
all the time I had it, snapping the beak loudly, and striking out as
endeavouring to seize the hand; uttering now and then a shrill wail,
most plaintive to hear. The globular head, and round full eyes, over
which the nictitating membrane was constantly being drawn, gave the
living bird an odd appearance. On dissecting it I found in the stomach
remains of mice and elytra of small beetles.

From these instances we can pretty well infer the food of the present
species to consist largely of shelled insects, as well as lizards and
small mammalia. For a while I knew not what to make of a statement of
Robinson’s, that in his male he found “nothing but some particles of
maize;” as also that in another, with “the remains of scarabs,” there
was “some guinea-corn, and maize.” But I am informed that this Owl is
known to enter dove-cotes, and devour the young pigeons; the grain,
therefore, in these specimens was probably in the stomachs of their
prey, and remained in the Owls after the prey had been dissolved,
because the stomach of a rapacious bird refuses to digest vegetable
food. It would probably have been cast up, if the birds had survived.

I know not whether this is the species that Mr. Hill means when he
says, in “Notes of a Year,” published in the Companion to the Jamaica
Almanack, for 1840,—“After sunset [in evenings in August] the Brown
Owl, seated on the dead limb of a tree in some savanna, makes little
circuits of about thirty feet diameter, and returns to perch again. I
should judge that it is darting at Coleopterous insects, occasional
fire-flies being seen wandering at about ten or a dozen feet above the
highest elevation at which the Owls are flying.”

The flesh of this species is soft and flabby in texture, and pale in
colour.


                            SCREECH OWL.[7]

                          _Strix pratincola._

          _Strix flammea_,          +Wilson+.
          _Strix pratincola_,       +Bonap.+
          _Strix Americana_,        +Aud.+ pl. 171.

  [7] Length 17 inches, expanse 46, tail 5³⁄₄, flexure 13¹⁄₂, rictus
  2, tarsus 3¹⁄₄, middle toe 1³⁄₈, claw 1.

Though Wilson has introduced this bird into his American Ornithology,
and described it apparently from native specimens, his very meagre
notes of its manners are those of its European representative, the
bird being very rare in the United States. In Jamaica it is not at all
uncommon, though little seen by day. I have been accustomed to see
one nearly every evening, emerge from some lofty woods on a hill just
above Bluefields, soon after sunset, and fly heavily over the pasture
and house, uttering a querulous cry, _kep, kep, kep_, in a sharp tone,
without intermission. Sometimes it was followed by another, and both
would betake themselves to a large cotton-tree at the border of the
opposite woods, where they would alight on the topmost boughs, and
after sitting quiet awhile, resume their flight and their cry together.
At other times, one or two are heard, and dimly seen by the light
of the moon, slowly flying over the pasture in a large circle. Its
motion is noiseless in itself, but almost always accompanied by this
monotonous cry; it usually flies high, but remarkably slowly. I had
been informed that it sometimes screams shrilly when flying, but this
I had not heard, until I had been familiar with the bird in this way,
for more than a year. But one night as I lay awake at Content, in St.
Elizabeth’s, I heard a harsh screech twice repeated, which I at once
suspected to be the voice of the White Owl, and presently this was
confirmed by the _kep, kep_, of one which was evidently flying round
the house, and continued for some time within hearing. And one evening,
about three months afterwards, just as the west horizon had faded from
its glowing gold to a dull ruddy hue, I heard a Screech Owl flying from
the hill as usual over the pasture; when it was overhead, but at a
height of perhaps three hundred feet, it suddenly intermitted the _kep,
kep_, by a loud scream; then _kep, kep_ again, and soon another scream,
and by and by another, as it slowly flew along.

This Owl does not seem to affect the deep forests, although it haunts
shady places in the vicinity of estates and open grounds, doubtless
because in such places its prey abounds. Among these groves it is
sometimes seen flitting on soft and silent wing during the day, when
it does not usually cry. About the middle of October, passing through
the extensive and beautiful Pen, called Mount Edgecumbe, where the
smooth-barked pimento trees grow from the grassy sward, as in a park,
my attention was called to a large space walled in, which my negro
lad, Sam, told me was a “Spanish hole.” Curiosity led me to examine
it. On getting over the wall, which was only a fence of dry stones,
to protect the cattle from falling in, I found myself in an area of
about eighty feet in diameter, in the centre of which yawned a vast pit
nearly circular in form, about forty feet wide, and as many in depth.
The edge overhung in every part, consisting of sharp limestone rock,
so that there seemed at first no means of getting down. Some trees,
however, were growing from the bottom, a few being of large size, and
all of great height and smoothness, almost wholly of one kind, the
bread-nut (_Brosimum alicastrum_). On carefully searching round, we
found a slender tree growing so close to the edge as to afford a ready
means of sliding down by, but so smooth that Sam was very reluctant to
essay it, doubting his power to climb up again. It was with a hope of
finding it the resort of owls or bats, that I had determined to examine
it, and while we were discussing the possibility of reascending, a
large White Owl suddenly flew up, and after flitting round once or
twice, sailed away towards the woods. While I was peering into the
remote corners, I discerned on a huge flat rock beneath the cavernous
sides, what seemed a young bird, snow-white, and of large size,
together with several eggs. This made me more urgent on my lad, and
after much persuasion, and the promise to procure ropes, and assistance
without delay, in case of need, he at length sprang off, and slid down
the tree. By means of a long and tough smilax, which I afterwards
used to measure the depth, I passed down to him in succession the
gun and the basket; and he proceeded to explore the dungeon. It was
evidently formed by nature; for from the overhanging sides depended
stalactites of various sizes and forms, in points and festoons, some
of the smallest of which he broke off; they were of a rough dead-white
surface, but the fracture displayed shining crystals. In one corner
were two or three holes of less than a foot in diameter, into one of
which he thrust a stick several yards long; it met no bottom, and on
being let go, instantly slid out of sight. In another corner lay some
immense masses of stone, so large, as to leave a comparatively small
space beneath the rocky roof. On one of these lay the object of the
enterprise. The lad having clambered up the rocks, was saluted on
his approach by a loud hissing from one of the ugliest creatures he
had ever beheld; so that he hesitated to touch it. I encouraged him,
however; for from the top I could witness all that took place; and he
at length opened the basket, and with a stick tumbled the young bird
in. Not the least vestige of a nest, nor of any apology for one, was
there; but the bird had reposed on a broad mass of half-digested hair,
mingled profusely with the bones of rats and birds; half of a rat lay
there, freshly killed, the fore parts being devoured. At a little
distance from the bird lay, on the same mass, three eggs, in no wise to
be distinguished from those of a hen, in form, size, or colour, save
that they were scarcely equal to the _average_ size of hen’s eggs. I
may add that, on emptying them afterwards, I found them to contain only
a fluid apparently homogeneous, glairy, but turbid, like very thin
paste. They were not collected for sitting, neither being within six
inches of another. No sooner had Sam descended, than the old Owl again
appeared; but, after flying round the mouth of the pit, and settling
for an instant on one of the trees, she flew off again; and though,
when we had secured the young and eggs, we waited long in expectation
of her return, she came no more while we remained. Having passed up
the things by the brier, the lad _shinned_ up the tree without much
difficulty, and we proceeded home with our young charge. On taking him
out, I found him a strange figure indeed: the head long, and sparingly
clothed with down; the curved beak, with its flesh-coloured cere; the
immense orbits of the eyes marked by a white ring of small down, and
the top and back of the head, and all the body besides, thickly clothed
with white down of exquisite softness, strongly reminding me of a
hair-dresser’s powder-puff. The tips of the wings displayed the budding
quills, but they bore the singular appearance of flesh-coloured tubes,
crowned with a divergent tuft of down. The hinder parts were, as usual
in young birds, large and protuberant, and there was not a vestige of
a tail as yet. The feet and legs were well developed, and the bird
sometimes stood up on them, but more usually rested on the whole sole,
in an upright, but most grotesque attitude. The clothing down was of
the purest white, except that in a few parts, as the back of the head
and neck, the shoulders, and the elbow of the wing, it was slightly
tinged with a delicate buff, hardly discernible. He was a very cross
fellow, biting spitefully at everything presented to him, and sometimes
at the boards around him, without any provocation; but the beak, though
sharp and hooked, was not moved by sufficient muscular power to hurt
the hand. He was almost constantly hissing; particularly, but not only,
when approached, giving out a sound, that for character, and really
almost for volume, may be likened to that produced by the rushing forth
of steam from the waste-pipe of an engine. While I was bringing him
home, he discharged from the stomach a hard and very dry pellet, an
inch in diameter, and about three in length, composed of rats’ hair and
bones, showing that he was habitually fed with prey as taken, perhaps
simply divided, and not with half-digested matter from the stomach of
the mother. I found, however, that though it would bite at any object,
it had no notion of eating; a bit of flesh seized in the beak being
invariably dropped in a second or two. I therefore crammed it, giving
it portions of the bodies of small birds and lizards, forcing them into
its throat; an operation the less difficult, as the gullet is enormous.
The portions remained in the fauces for a few moments, and were then
swallowed. When standing up, or sitting, gazing with apparent curiosity
at any person near, it was perpetually swaying deliberately from side
to side; sometimes it lost its balance and fell over. The irides were
black, but the pupils pale blue. It lay down to sleep, resting the side
of its head on the floor.

In the course of a few days it began to seize food when presented
to it, which it swallowed eagerly; and I was astonished to see how
large morsels it would swallow, such as the undivided body of a large
Noctilio, which it could hardly receive into its mouth. The coloured
feathers now began to protrude from the lengthening quill-tubes, and I
perceived that the tuft of down was slightly attached to the point of
the feather, and was deciduous; or rather, that it consisted of very
fine and loosely barbed prolongations of the ordinary beards of the
vane, very closely resembling in texture the barbs of an ostrich-plume.
When it became a little stronger, so that it could support itself a
moment on one foot, it began to manifest a singular habit in eating.
Almost invariably, henceforth, as soon as it had snatched a piece of
flesh, which it did ravenously, it chewed it a moment with the tips of
the mandibles; this had the effect of pressing out the morsel on each
side so that it protruded. One foot was then brought up under the chin,
and thrown forward with a clutching motion, two toes being on each side
the beak; this was awkwardly performed, being repeated several times
before the morsel was grasped; and the bird often stumbled about on
the other foot, or nearly fell over. When the foot had clutched the
flesh, it was held in the toes, until the beak could seize it in a
more favourable position for swallowing. Then, by repeated tossings of
the head, the morsel was _thrown_, as it were, little by little into
the fauces. All the while it was eating, even when the throat seemed
quite closed by the descending food, the whistling hiss was maintained
with incessant pertinacity. Indeed, this sound, harsh and deafening as
it was, scarcely ever ceased, except when the bird was sleeping. It
was exceedingly vigilant; the smallest sound, even a light foot-fall,
would arouse it, and awaken this most unmusical noise. It was more than
usually loud when the bird was hungry, and doubly so at the moment when
food was presented to it, as, in its ravenous eagerness to seize, it
frequently missed from its hurried motion. Sometimes, when its belly
was full, it substituted a quivering whistle, in a very high key,
emitted, I believe, through the nostrils. The fæces were very fluid,
and resembled a thin solution of lime; they left a chalky deposit,
pulverulent: and were not at all fœtid. It seemed to have no desire for
drinking. On the 1st of November it died, having been in my care about
a fortnight.

Soon after this, my lad Sam being again near the _Spanish-hole_,
looked in, and discerned the old Owl sitting on the same spot, and on
the 12th, I again visited it. On peeping cautiously over the wall, I
discerned her on the rock, and fired; but merely wounding her, she
retreated into one of the cavities, so that Sam, on descending, could
not find her. There were four eggs, which were placed close together,
but in no nest. Another Owl, doubtless the mate, flew at the report
of the gun from somewhere near the margin, opposite to the female’s
side: but though we made considerable noise in entering the area, and
in talking, the boy in descending discovered him perched still near the
margin of the cavern. At length, however, he flew off. As the sitting
bird had concealed herself, and could not be found, I determined to
leave the eggs untouched, presuming she would soon return to them.
In the course of half-an-hour I returned, and had the satisfaction
of seeing her again on the eggs: I fired, and this time not vainly.
In her fall she crushed one of the eggs, which had evidently been in
contact with the skin of her abdomen, that part being wholly denuded of
feathers. The remaining eggs were advanced towards hatching in _very
different degrees_, and one was found on dissection in the oviduct of
the bird, completely shelled, and ready for deposition. The yolk of
this was small in quantity, and of a pale yellow tint. Other eggs in
the ovary were from the size of large shot downward.

About the middle of October, my notice was drawn to some Owls, which
were said to make nightly visits to a certain tree in a provision
ground at Belmont. I visited the spot the next evening, after sunset;
it was a large cotton-tree, with a spur more than usually immense
and uncouth. The rounded top of this spur was the scene of the Owls’
gambols: as I approached, I heard them uttering the same harsh sound,
half hiss, half scream, that had characterized the young one. As it was
nearly dark, their white forms were indistinct, and before I could get
within range, they, whose senses were now vigilant and acute, perceived
me, and flew to a neighbouring tree, whence they presently removed to a
distance. On the following evening I took care to be on the watch soon
after sunset: presently I heard the well-known cry _kep, kep_; and the
bird, arriving on noiseless wing, took up its station on one of the
lofty limbs of the cotton tree. It called in this manner for a minute
or two, when the other came flying from another direction, uttering the
same sound, and likewise alighted on a limb not far from the former. As
it was growing dark, and I was anxious to procure specimens, I fired at
one, and brought it down with the wing wounded. It retreated into one
of the dark recesses of the spurs, and fought bravely before I could
get hold of it, snapping the beak, and trying to bite. When brought to
the house, its attitudes and motions were exactly the same as those
of the young above described: it would stand for hours on the same
spot, gazing intently with its large liquid eyes, at any one before
it: swaying slowly from side to side, with the head depressed and
protruded, as if to get a better view of the object of its attention.
If approached, it opened and snapped the beak; but if pressed, it fell
backward on the tail, presenting both feet to clutch: which it did with
effect.

Mr. Hill mentions to me a third species of Owl, small in size, and of a
brown hue, but I know not any of its generic or specific characters.




                    +Order.+—PASSERES. (_Perchers._)
                +Fam.+—CAPRIMULGIDÆ.—(_The Nightjars._)

                             NIGHT-HAWK.[8]

                     (_Piramidig.—Musquito-hawk._)

                       _Chordeiles Virginianus._

          _Caprimulgus Americanus_,   +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 147.
          _Caprimulgus Popetue_,      +Vieill.+
          _Chordeiles Virginianus_,   +Bon.+

  [8] Length 8¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 20, tail 4, flexure 7¹⁄₁₀, rictus
  ¹¹⁄₁₂, tarsus ⁷⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁷⁄₁₀.

These birds are doubtless migratory, for we see nothing of them from
September to April. They probably winter with the Grey Petchary and
the Red-eyed Vireo, in Central America, as they appear with those
species about the beginning of April. We can scarcely fail to recognise
the period of their arrival; for their manners and voice are so
singular, that they force themselves upon our attention. About an hour
before the sun sets, we hear a loud, abrupt, and rapid repetition
of four or five syllables in the air above our heads, resembling
the sounds, _piramidig_, or _gi’ me a bit_, or perhaps still more,
_witta-wittawit_. On looking up we see some two or three birds,
exceedingly like swallows in figure and flight, but considerably
larger, with a conspicuous white spot on each wing. They _winnow_,
however, rather more than swallows, and more frequently depress one
or the other side; and the body and tail behind the wings is rather
longer. Their general appearance, their sudden quick doublings, their
rushing, careering flight, and their long, narrow, arcuated wings,
are so like those of swallows, that after being familiar with them,
I have often been unable to determine at the first glance, whether
a particular bird were a caprimulgus or a swallow. Like them the
Piramidig is pursuing flying insects; and though the prey, from its
great height, and probably its minute size, is invisible from the
earth, we may very often observe that it is captured, by a sudden
arresting of the career, and by the swift zigzag dodgings, or almost
stationary flutterings, that ensue. I do not think the prey is
ordinarily larger than minute diptera, hymenoptera, and coleoptera;
for I have not been able to detect anything flying where these birds
were hawking, even when their flight was sufficiently low to allow of
insects as large as a bee being distinctly seen. “Mosquito hawk,” is
one of the appellations familiarly given to the bird, and doubtless
not without ground. I am confirmed in this supposition, by the fact
that swallows, whose prey is known to be minute, are usually hawking in
the same region of the air, and in company with the Piramidigs. By the
term “company,” however, I must not be understood as implying anything
like association, which does not seem to exist even between these birds
themselves; they are usually solitary, except inasmuch as several,
hawking over the same circumscribed region, must often come into close
proximity; but this seems, in general, neither sought nor avoided; each
swoops on its own course, regardless of his momentary neighbour. Yet
the tender passion sets aside even the most recluse solitariness in any
animal; and to this I attribute it that now and then I have seen one
Piramidig following another in close and pertinacious pursuit, ever and
anon uttering its singular cry, and evidently desiring to come into
contact with, but not to strike or hurt its coy companion. I would not
assert from hence that the nuptials of this species are performed upon
the wing, because the premises are too slight to decide so important
a fact; but it is known that it is so with the European Swift, a bird
whose manners greatly resemble those of our Night-hawk.

It is when the afternoon rains of the season have descended
plentifully, that these birds are most numerous, and most vociferous;
and they continue to fly till the twilight is beginning to fade into
darkness. After this, they appear for the most part to retire, and the
strange and startling voices, that before were sounding all around
and above us, are rarely heard by the most attentive listening. A
lad informed me that when out fishing during the night, not far from
the shore, the canoe is often surrounded by bats, which make a great
noise. But my assistant, Sam, who heard the statement, assured me that
these were not bats, but Piramidigs, (with some bats, however, in the
company), and that these birds, when the moon is at or near the full,
continue on the wing through the night.[9] On dark rainy days, such as
we get sometimes in May, I have seen and heard two or three abroad even
in the middle of the day, careering just as at nightfall.

  [9] I may be permitted here to record a tribute of affection to
  this faithful servant, Samuel Campbell, whose name may often
  appear in this work. A negro lad of about eighteen, with only the
  rudiments of education, he soon approved himself a most useful
  assistant by his faithfulness, his tact in learning, and then his
  skill in practising, the art of preparing natural subjects, his
  patience in pursuing animals, his powers of observation of facts,
  and the truthfulness with which he reported them, as well as by
  the accuracy of his memory with respect to species. Often and
  often, when a thing has appeared to me new, I have appealed to
  Sam, who on a moment’s examination would reply, “No, we took this
  in such a place, or on such a day,” and I invariably found on my
  return home that his memory was correct. I never knew him in the
  slightest degree attempt to embellish a fact, or report more than
  he had actually seen. He remained with me all the time I was in the
  island, and was of great service to me. Many of the subjects of
  this work were obtained by him, when I was not myself with him, and
  some which I believe to be unique.

Early in the morning, before the grey dawn has peeped over the
mountain, I have heard over the pastures of Pinnock Shafton, great
numbers of these birds evidently flying low, and hawking to and fro.
Their cries were uttered in rapid succession, and resounded from all
parts of the air, though it was too dark to distinguish even such as
were apparently in near proximity. Now and again, the hollow booming
sound, like blowing into the bung-hole of a barrel, produced at the
moment of perpendicular descent, as described by Wilson, fell on my ear.

The articulations or syllables, if I may so say, which make up the
note, are usually four, but sometimes five, or six, uttered as
rapidly as they can be pronounced, and all in the same tone. The
Chuck-will’s-widow and the Whip-poor-will of the northern continent
derive these names from a rapid emission of certain sounds not very
dissimilar to those of the bird under consideration. The cry is
uttered at considerable intervals, but without anything like a regular
recurrence or periodicity.

Whither the Piramidig retires after its twilight evolutions are
performed, or where it dwells by day, I have little evidence. The first
individual that fell into my hands, however, was under the following
circumstances. One day in the beginning of September, about noon, being
with the lads shooting in Crab-pond morass, Sam called my attention to
an object on the horizontal bough of a mangrove-tree, which he could
not at all make out. I looked long at it, also, in various aspects,
and at length concluded that it was a sluggish reptile. It was lying
lengthwise on the limb, close down, the head also being laid close
on the branch, the eyes wide open, and thus it remained immovable,
though three of us were talking and pointing towards it, and walking
to and fro under it, within a few yards. The form, in this singular
posture, presented not the least likeness to that of a bird. At length
I fired at it, and it fell, a veritable Night-hawk! The reason of its
seeking safety by lying close, rather than by flight, was probably
the imperfection of its sight in the glare of day, from the enormous
size of its pupils: but the artifice showed a considerable degree of
cunning.

An intelligent person has stated to me that early in the morning,
where a perpendicular face of rock about twenty feet high rises from
the hilly pastures of Mount Edgecumbe, he has seen these birds leave
what seemed to be nests, built in the manner of some swallows, on the
side of the rock, near the top. But I strongly suspect he is mistaken
in the identity of the bird. One day, at the end of July, as I and Sam
were following Baldpate Pigeons on some very stony pasture at Pinnock
Shafton, much shaded with pimento and cedar-trees, we roused a bird
of this family, and, I think, of this species, which started from the
ground near our feet, and fluttered in an odd manner, inviting our
attention. I was aware of her object and began to search carefully
among the loose stones for a young bird, or an egg, but could discover
neither, though I have no doubt either the one or the other was not
far off. I have been told that it habitually chooses for its place
of laying, the centre of a spot where a heap has been burned off in
clearing new ground; perhaps on account of its dryness.

In some “Notes of a Year,” published in the Companion to the Jamaica
Almanack, Mr. Hill had used the term, “triangular,” in connexion
with the flight of this bird. In reply to a question of mine, on the
subject, he thus writes: “I send you a diagram of the flittings about
of the Goatsucker. It illustrates my allusion to the triangular flight
of the bird. This peculiar cutting of triangles struck my attention,
when I was watching the morning flight of some three or four
Goatsuckers, just at day-dawn, while I strolled through the pastures
of a pen in St. Andrew’s, where I was visiting. The morning twilight
had spread a clear glassy gloom over the whole cloudless expanse around
and above me; and as no direct ray shone on the woods and fields, which
lay silent and sombre beneath,—the flitting birds were seen distinctly,
like dark moving spots against the grey sky. I was struck with the
sudden shifts by triangles which they were seen to make. They never
moved very far from one to another direction, but darted backward and
forward over a space of some five hundred yards, preserving a pretty
constant horizontal traverse, over some trees in a near pasture,
whose honeyed fragrance on the morning air told that they were in
blossom. Occasionally only, they rose and sank so as suddenly to change
their elevation above the clumps of foliage. Yarrell observes that
Goatsuckers are remarkable for beating over very circumscribed spaces;
but I have not found any one who notices their cutting in and out by
triangular shifts. It is not so perceptible in the obscurity of the
evening, but in the perspicuousness of day-dawn it is plainly visible;
and I made a note of it, and dotted in the angular appearance at the
time.”

In some parts of Jamaica this bird bears the appellation, most absurdly
misapplied, of “Turtle-dove:” it is occasionally shot for the table,
being usually fat and plump. It is a very beautiful bird. The stomach,
protuberant below the _sternum_, is a large globular sac; the other
viscera are small. Of one which I dissected, shot in its evening
career, the stomach was stuffed with an amazing number of insects,
almost (if not quite) wholly consisting of small beetles of the genus
_Bostrichus_: there were probably not fewer than two hundred of these
beetles, all of one species, about a quarter of an inch long.

The primaries, which are long and narrow, have a peculiar downy
surface, like the nap of cloth, extending down the inner vanes, and
covering the outer two-thirds of their breadth; this is visible only on
the upper surface. It does not exist in our Nyctibius.

There is in my possession, presented to me by Mr. Hill with many other
interesting objects, an egg of much beauty, which, when brought to him,
was reported to be that of a Caprimulgus. It certainly belongs to this
family, but not, as I think, to this species, judging from Wilson’s
description. Its dimensions are 1²⁄₁₀ inch, by ⁸⁄₁₀, of a very regular
oval, polished, and delicately and minutely marbled with white, pale
blue grey, and faint olive.


                               POTOO.[10]

                        _Nyctibius Jamaicensis._

          _Caprimulgus Jamaicensis_,  +Gmel.+
          _Nyctibius Jamaicensis_,    +Vieill.+
          _Nyctibius pectoralis_,     +Gould+, Ic. Av.

  [10] Length 16 inches, expanse 33¹⁄₂, tail 7³⁄₄, flexure 11¹⁄₄,
  rictus 2¹⁄₂, breadth of beak at base measured within 2²⁄₁₀, tarsus
  ³⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀.

  Irides hazel, orange-coloured, or brilliant straw-yellow; feet
  whitish, scurfy; beak black. Interior of mouth violet, passing
  into flesh-colour. Plumage mottled with black, brown, grey, and
  white; the white prevailing on the tertiaries, tertiary-coverts,
  and scapulars, the black upon the primaries and their coverts; the
  tail-feathers barred transversely with black on a grey ground,
  which is so mottled as to bear a striking resemblance to the soft
  pencilling of many Sphingidæ; tail broad, very slightly rounded.
  The feathers of the head lax, and fur-like. Inner surface of the
  wings black, spotted with white. A streak of black runs on each
  side the throat, nearly parallel with and close to the gape; a
  bay tint prevails on the breast; and some of the feathers there
  have broad terminal spots of black, which are arranged in somewhat
  of a crescent-form, having irregular spots above it. Under parts
  pale grey unmottled. Every feather of the whole plumage is marked
  with a black stripe down the centre. Tongue sagittiform, wide at
  the horns, slender towards the tip, fleshy; reverted barbs along
  the edges. The volume of brain excessively small. Intestine 10¹⁄₂
  inches; two cæca 1¹⁄₂ in. long, dilated at the ends.

Both the Whip-poor-will and the Chuck-will’s-widow have been assigned
to Jamaica; neither of these vociferous and unmistakable birds,
however, have fallen under my observation there. It is not improbable
that the present bird has been mistaken by careless observers for the
Chuck-will’s-widow, though comparatively a silent species.

The Potoo is not unfrequently seen in the evening, taking its station
soon after sunset on some dead tree or fence-post, or floating by on
noiseless wing, like an owl, which the common people suppose it to
be. Its plumage has the soft puffy, unwebbed character which marks
that of the owls, and which prevents the impact of its wings upon the
air from being audible, notwithstanding the power and length of those
organs. Now and then it is seen by day; but it is half concealed in
the bushy foliage of some thick tree, which it can with difficulty be
induced to quit, distrustful of its powers by day. As it sits in the
fading twilight it ever and anon utters a loud and hoarse _ho-hoo_, and
sometimes the same syllables are heard, in a much lower tone, as if
proceeding from the depth of the throat.

The first specimen that fell under my observation was shot in October.
On several evenings in succession a large bird had been observed
sitting on a particular post near Bluefields Tavern, where it remained
undisturbed by passers looking at it, though it was not half a stone’s
cast from the road-side. At length Sam shot at it, and blew out many
feathers, but it flew slowly off to the woods; uttering, the instant
after it was shot, a low croaking. The next evening he watched again,
and about sunset the bird returned to the same post, when he secured
it. It is interesting to observe the similarity in habit to the
Flycatchers in selecting a prominent station, and returning again and
again to it, even after such annoyance. It was one out of many posts of
a rail-fence, yet the bird uniformly chose the same. Another was given
me a few weeks afterwards, which had been struck down with a stone, as
it was sitting on a tree in the yard around a negro’s house. It had
been in the habit of stationing itself there every evening, and its
cries, which were described to me as resembling the mewing of a cat
in pain, were so plaintive, that they seem to have acted on the good
woman’s superstition, who begged her husband to kill it. I incline
to think, however, that the voice here mentioned was not that of the
Potoo, but of an Eared Owl which may have been near it, but in the
darkness unobserved. This specimen lived a day or two in the house,
after it was knocked down, and when it died it was brought to me. I
found its stomach, a muscular gizzard, distended with large beetles,
(_Megasoma titanus_,) disjointed. That of the former contained two
specimens of a black _Phanæus_.

Another, a male, shot in the day time, in February, had the stomach
hard stuffed with fragments of insects, which, on being dispersed in
water, I found to consist wholly of beetles, among which limbs of
_lamellicorns_ were conspicuous, probably _Phanæus_. In this case the
stomach was more membranous; the œsophagus very wide and substantial as
in the Owls, but there was no dilatation or proventriculus.

About the same time a living and uninjured specimen was given me,
taken in a wooded morass. This I kept some days. It would sit
anywhere that it was placed, across the finger, or across a stick;
never _lengthwise_, though I repeatedly tried it so. Its position
in sitting was quite perpendicular, (that is, from head to tail,)
the plumage a little puffed out, the head drawn in, the eyes usually
shut. When pushed, however, it lengthened the neck to retain its
balance, and opened its eyes, which being so large, and the irides
of a brilliant yellow, combined with the wide gape to give it a most
singular physiognomy. Usually it seemed absolutely blind by day, for
when the eyes were wide open, the approach of any object within a line
of the pupil, and the moving of it to and fro, produced, in general,
not the slightest effect. Once or twice, however, I observed that when
the pupil was greatly dilated, as it always was when the lids were
first unclosed, the sudden motion of my hand towards the eye, caused
the pupil to contract with singular rapidity to less than one fourth
of its former dimensions. Afterwards by candle-light, I observed the
extraordinary rapidity and extent of this contractility more fully.
When the candle was little more than a yard distant, the pupil was
dilated to about ³⁄₄ths of an inch diameter, occupying the whole
visible area of the eye, the iris being reduced to an imperceptible
line; on bringing the candle close to the pupil, it contracted to a
diameter of two lines, and that _completely within the period_ required
to convey the candle by _the most rapid action of my hand practicable_.

As night approached I expected that it would become animated; but it
did not stir, nor shew any sign of vivacity, though I watched it till
it was quite dark. Several times in the evening I went into the room,
up to ten o’clock, but it was where I had left it. About three in the
morning I had occasion to go in again with a candle; the Potoo had not
altered his position, and when the day came, there he was unmoved, nor
do I believe he had stirred during the whole night. Thus he remained
during the next day; I put his beak into water, and let fall drops upon
it, but he refused to drink: I then caught beetles (_Tenebrionidæ_) and
cockroaches, but he took no notice of them; and though I repeatedly
opened his beak and put the insects into his broad and slimy mouth,
they were instantly jerked out by an impatient toss of his head.
Towards this evening, however, he began to glower about, and once or
twice suddenly flew out into the midst of the room, and then fluttered
either to the ground, or to some resting place. Many little _Tineæ_
were flitting around my dried bird-skins, and I conjectured that he
might be capturing these, especially as when at rest his eye would
now and then seem to catch sight of some object, and glance quickly
along, as if following its course. The statement of Cuvier, that “the
proportions of the Nyctibius completely disqualify it from rising from
a level surface,” I saw disproved; for notwithstanding the shortness of
the tarsi, (and it is, indeed, extreme,) my bird repeatedly alighted
on, and rose from, the floor, without effort. When resting on the
floor, the wings were usually spread; when perching, they about
reached the tip of the tail. If I may judge of the habits of the Potoo
from what little I have observed of it when at liberty, and from the
manners of my captive specimen, I presume that, notwithstanding the
powerful wings, it flies but little; but that sitting on some post of
observation, it watches there till some crepuscular beetle wings by,
on which it sallies out, and having captured it with its cavernous and
viscid mouth, returns immediately to its station. Mr. Swainson appears
to consider that the stiff bristles, with which many _Caprimulgidæ_
are armed, have a manifest relation to the size and power of their
prey, beetles and large moths, while these appendages are not needed in
the swallows, their prey consisting of “little soft insects.” (Class.
Birds.) But here is a species, whose prey is the hardest and most rigid
beetles, of large size, and often set with formidable horns,—which has
no true rictal bristles at all!

Finding that my Potoo would not eat, and feeling reluctant to starve
it, I killed it for preparation. In depriving it of life, I first
endeavoured to strangle it by pressure on the trachea, but I found
that with all the strength of my fingers, I could not compress it so
as to prevent the admission of air sufficient for respiration. I was
obliged, therefore, to apply one or two smart blows on the head with a
stick. While giving it these death-blows, much against my feelings, it
uttered, on being taken up by the wings, a short, harsh croaking. With
this exception, it was absolutely silent all the time I had it; never
resenting any molestation, save that when irritated by the repeated
presentation of any object, as the corner of a handkerchief, it would
suddenly open its immense mouth, apparently for intimidation; yet it
made no attempt to seize anything. The stomach, notwithstanding three
or four days’ fast, was crammed with fragments of beetles, among which
were the horns of a large _Dynastes_, that I had not met with. I may
mention that the sclerotic ring of the eye consists of distinct plates
(see Pen. Cyc. xvi. 225,) thirteen in number, varying in dimensions,
and not perfectly regular in form.

I afterwards kept a living Potoo for ten days; but its manners were
exactly the same as above, pertinaciously refusing to eat. Mr. Hill,
however, had one which greedily ate large cockroaches that were thrown
to it.

It is remarkable that among a people whose most striking feature is
the great development of the mouth, the Potoo has become a proverb of
ugliness. The “most unkindest cut of all” that a negro can inflict upon
another, on the score of personal plainness, is “Ugh! you ugly, like
one Potoo!”

I have seen that which serves this bird for a nest: it is simply
a round, flat mat, about five inches wide, and little more than
one thick, composed of the fibrous plant called Old man’s beard
(_Tillandsia usneoides_). It was found on the ground on a spot whence
the Potoo had just risen: it is in the possession of Mr. Hill, to whom
I am indebted for the following interesting observations.

“White’s conjecture of the purpose to which the serrated toe of the
Nightjar is applied, namely, the better holding of the prey which it
takes with its foot while flying, would have been more than rendered
highly probable by an inspection of the foot of the Nyctibius. The
inner front toe and the back toe are spread out by the great extension
of the enveloping flesh of the phalanges, to such a breadth as to
give the foot the character and form of a hand; while the movement of
these prehensile organs is so adjusted that the back toe and the three
front toes, pressed flat against one another, can enclose anything
as effectually as the palms of the hands. The [claw of the] middle
toe, which is serrated in the Caprimulgus, is simply dilated in the
Nyctibius, a peculiarity also of the swallows. Whatever deficiency of
prehension this may give it, when compared to the power of the serrated
nail of the Caprimulgus, is amply compensated for in the Nyctibius, by
the palm-like character of the foot, by the extraordinary expansion of
the toes, and by the quantity of membrane connecting them together. All
this would be a mere waste of power if it did not perform some function
like that which White assigned to the foot of the Nightjar.

“The feathers of the head, but especially those around the dilated
gape, are of a peculiar structure. The covering of this part appears at
first sight a mixture of hair and feathers, but upon close inspection,
it is found to be composed of a loosely woven plumage, in which the
shaft of each feather is prolonged into a pliant filament of great
length. It is this texture which gives the character of intermingled
hairs to the feathers around the mouth. This tendency in the shafts and
in some of the webs also to terminate in filaments is very prevalent in
the plumage of the Nyctibius, each of the feathers of the tail having
this sort of termination.”

The Potoo is a permanent inhabitant of Jamaica; it is common in the
lowlands of the south side, and probably is generally distributed in
the island: it is found also in Brazil, for I am quite satisfied that
Mr. Gould’s _N. Pectoralis_ is not specifically distinct from ours.


                        WHITE-HEADED POTOO.[11]

                     _Nyctibius pallidus._—+Mihi.+

  [11] Length 11 inches, expanse 22, rictus 1⁵⁄₈, beak from feathers
  to tip ⁵⁄₈, flexure 6, tail 3³⁄₄.

  “The nostrils prominent, tubulated, and covered with a membrane;
  from the nostrils runs a deep groove or furrow towards the tip.
  The beak was bent like the end of an Owl’s, and when closed was
  longer than the under mandible; the latter was of a subulated form,
  shorter and bending in a contrary direction to the upper one: it
  was broader than the upper; its margins were inverted, and received
  the upper one exactly, when closed. There were no bristles on the
  angle of the mouth. The tibiæ [tarsi?] or shank-bones are shortened
  into a heel, so that the measure of what is usually called the
  leg, from the bend of the knee to the first joint of the middle
  toe is only ²⁄₈ of an inch. The length of that part which ought
  to be called the leg, [tibia?] is 1¹⁄₂ inch, and the bone of the
  thigh 1 inch. Toes four, three before, one behind; covered with
  ash-coloured scales, very flat beneath, and all connected by narrow
  membrane. Claws brown, strong, gently curved and compressed; middle
  claw thinned to an edge on the inner side, but not serrate. Tail
  of ten feathers, equal, broad, rounded, barred with blackish and
  grey, and these bars again marked with less black bars. Wing quills
  coloured chiefly like the tail, but deeper; secondaries edged with
  clay-colour; winglet and long coverts immediately beneath it,
  black, with a few whitish bars; greater coverts black, edged with
  clay-colour; the next row of coverts whitish, with black shafts;
  the next row black, making a large triangular black spot in the
  expanded wing. Eyes very large, irides bright yellow. Head, neck,
  and throat white, with black shafts; above each eye some black and
  white streaked feathers in an erect position, forming two small
  roundish rings. On the breast, clay-coloured feathers with black
  shafts, and black spots. Sides, belly, and vent, white with black
  shafts. A line of black feathers down the middle of the back; rump
  ashy, with narrow black shafts. On shoulders a mixture of ash and
  clay-colour, with black shafts. Plumage very loose. Weight 3 oz. 7
  sc.”

The description below I have quoted (somewhat abridged) from Robinson’s
MSS., who has given an elaborately coloured figure of the species in
his drawings. I have never met with it, but I think Mr. Hill has; for
he has assured me of the existence of two true Nyctibii in Jamaica,
besides the common Potoo; and two Caprimulgi, besides the Piramidig. I
knew not exactly which species are alluded to in the following extract
from a letter of Andrew Gregory Johnston, Esq., of Portland parish,
a mountain region, to Mr. Hill. “We have two birds called Patoo; one
white, the other brown. The first resembles the Scritch-Owl of Europe;
the last is smaller; it is dark brown, and makes a noise by night, (and
occasionally by day) half guttural, half pectoral or ventral, sounding
the monosyllable _wow_, at short intervals. I have seen a brown Patoo
taken by a negro boy in mid-day from a branch of a mango tree, with a
noose fastened to a short stick. It was young, but a flier. Its mother
came to look for it, and we caught her, and kept her some days. When
liberated she would not move off many yards from the house, but was
seen daily for a few weeks. When a prisoner it would eat cockroaches
thrown down to it, and if handled was cruel and spiteful, otherwise
quiet and apparently very gentle. There are plenty of them here. I
listen to their sulky _wow_, often in the watches of the night.”

Perhaps the present species may be “the small wood Owle” of Sloane, ii.
296.


                 +Fam.+—HIRUNDINIDÆ.—(_The Swallows._)

                           RINGED GOWRIE.[12]

                         _Acanthylis collaris?_

          ? _Cypselus collaris_,      +Pr. Max.+—Temm. Pl. col. 195.

  [12] “Length 8¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 20, wings reaching 2¹⁄₄ beyond
  the tail, tail 3, rictus ⁶⁄₈, beak from feathered part to tip ³⁄₈,
  tarsus ⁶⁄₈, middle toe ¹⁄₂, claw ³⁄₈, inner toe equal to the middle
  one.

  “Irides deep hazel [“blacker than the pupil,” Mr. Johnston;] beak
  black, polished, a little hooked; nostrils large, oval: eyes large,
  deep sunk in the head, with remarkably large eyebrows; toes three
  before and one behind, covered as well as the tarsi with blackish
  purple scales; claws black, polished, hooked, and compressed; tibia
  feathered to the tarsus. Head, throat, wings, tail, and belly
  brown; the back and tail more inclining towards black, as also the
  long quill-feathers. The breast partly white, which was continued
  round the neck, like a ring: the head large, like that of Edwards’s
  Whip-poor-will. Fore part of the eyebrows tipt with white.”

“As this bird seldom alights, it is furnished with two supernumerary
bones, which are placed on the superior and exterior part of the leg;
the skin that covers them is of an obscure flesh-colour; they are of an
oblong ovated form, one fourth of an inch long; and as the bird hangs
upon a wall, rock, &c., by his claws, these bones are pressed close to
it, and the leg thereby secured from harm.

“The tail consisted of ten feathers, which, when expanded, formed
a large segment of a circle, somewhat pointed at their ends; the
innermost ones broadest. It is remarkable in this bird, that the
tail-feathers have naked shafts after the manner of the woodpeckers,
and adapted to the same use; for the shafts, being remarkably strong
and elastic, even to their points, help to support the birds in their
pendent situation, till they get fast hold by their claws, if there
is any to be got: if not, they can, by means of their tail, fling
themselves back, and recover their wings quickly, which might be
difficult for them to do were the shafts of the tail less strong. The
points are not only naked but sharp.

“Mr. Long had this bird alive. I set it upon the floor; it crept along
with its legs bent, leaning upon the aforesaid bones, but was not able
to raise itself upon its feet; its legs were not so thick as those of
our great English Swift. It was remarkably broad-shouldered, measuring
_two inches_ from pinion to pinion; its head was one inch broad between
the eyes. It resembled the _Caprimulgus_ of Edwards in the form of its
beak and body, as also in _the largeness of its eyes_. Its feathers
were all glossy.

“When the tail is half-spread it forms a straight line at the end; when
more, a curve like a fan. When by any accident this bird falls to the
ground, it creeps or scrambles to some rock or shrub, where bending its
tail and expanding its wings, it elevates its body, and at the same
time throwing its legs forward, catches hold of the rock, &c., with
its claws, and climbing up to a proper height, throws itself back and
recovers its wings.

“This bird was brought to me March 5th, 1759; it had fallen from a tree
by some accident, and was taken up by a negro, before it could recover.”

The above notes in some degree arranged, and slightly abridged, I quote
from Robinson’s valuable MSS., who was evidently much interested in
the bird he has so minutely described. That interest I myself felt
in no small degree, on reading his notes, as there appear manifest
indications of an intermediate link between the diurnal and nocturnal
Fissirostres. It was therefore with very much pleasure that I saw on
the 4th of last April, what I believe to have been the present species.
At Content, in St. Elizabeth, as evening approached, _after a little
rain_, swallows of three species were careering around the mountain:
the White bellied Swallow and the Palm Swift were numerous, and among
them was a very large black species, with a white collar, rather less
numerous, prodigiously rapid in flight. I vainly endeavoured to shoot
it. A fortnight afterwards, about half an hour before sunset, _after
rain_, the Piramidigs which first appeared were presently joined by
the great collared Swift, which careered with them in numbers. Again,
about 11 o’clock in the forenoon, in May, three of these birds swept
overhead, heavy rain already falling on the mountain, and beginning to
reach the spot where I was. My lad Sam, one day about noon, observed
as many as a dozen passing in a flock, in straight and rapid course,
when black clouds, already gathered round the mountain brow, threatened
rain, which however passed away to leeward. A few days after, a little
earlier in the day, and _in exactly similar_ weather, or rather amidst
the first large drops of a heavy rainstorm, he saw three flying so low
as nearly to skim the ground; two pursuing in mazy course a third, from
which proceeded, now and then, a singular vibratory sound, which Sam
imitated by the word “churr.” This singular sound, which again reminds
one of the Goatsuckers, was also uttered by two, which, about the same
season and hour, and in similar weather, were careering swiftly over
Bluefields towards the mountain peaks.

Having mentioned the occurrence of this bird to my notice, in a letter
to Mr. Hill, he favoured me with the following interesting account of
his own acquaintance with the species. “* * * The month was March, the
early part of March, when the bleak northerly winds of February had
exhausted and blighted all vegetation, and the lower range of the St.
Andrews mountains, with their steep and angular declivities walling
in the plains, were looking as seared as if a simoom had blasted
them. The pastures below were destitute of herbage, but the adjacent
cane-fields were sufficiently green to relieve the arid aspect of the
mountains, and give the air of cultivation to the plain. Myself and the
friend with whom I travelled had waited in Kingston till _an afternoon
shower_ had fallen. The sun was just setting when we had got within the
last mile of our journey. We had completely headed the extremity of the
Long mountain, and were quite within the plain, encircled, as it there
seems, by hills and uplands. The air was pleasant and fresh;—the earth
sent up its reeking odour, musky and strong;—the road was splashy, and
here and there stood puddles in the grassless savannas. Lighted by
the level sunbeams the whole landscape was brilliant, and the masses
of recent rain-clouds that were up-rolled, but gathered low on the
mountains before us, were luminously golden and crimson. The deep,
desert bed of the Hope river was right in our view. Here, all of a
sudden, we found ourselves coursing our way through a hundred of the
White-collared Martin, and they seemed to spread all over this corner
of the plain in similar numbers. The extraordinary size of the birds,
the easy but rapid glide of their flight, just over the cane-fields
and savannas, not at a greater height than just above our horse, when
they crossed and re-crossed the road, sweeping so near to us as to
tempt us to strike at them with the chaise-whip, were very remarkable
incidents in a first acquaintance with them. I was able to see the
whole character of their form and colouring, ‘great black Martins,
with a white collar,’ as your letter delineates them. They continued
quartering over the fields, till the sunlight had left the plains, or
was only reflected by the mountains and their piles of roseate clouds.
The rain had brought all insect-life to the moist surface of the earth,
and these birds were following their congregated swarms to the wet
savannas. They sometimes stooped to the puddles, and shot past with a
twitter that very much reminded one of the summer play of their smaller
sized congeners.

“I have seen the same bird twice or thrice since, but in threes or
fours only, and, always, only near rocky and unfrequented hills.
Another friend, who drew my attention to them in consequence of their
numbers after rains, in his neighbourhood, lived among large open
savannas and salt-ponds, near the low range of rocky and sterile
mountains, which our maps call the Healthshire hills. He told me he
had traced them to the caverns in those mountains, in which he felt
assured they nestled in hundreds. This is the nearest to any precise
information, I ever could get of their haunts and habitations.”

I am not alone in thinking these birds difficult to shoot; a gentleman
who resides near Kingston, having observed them at his residence one
evening, the last spring, and kindly wishing to supply me with a
specimen, though an expert shot, fired five times unsuccessfully at
them. Yet I am not without hope of obtaining specimens, particularly
through the politeness of Mr. A. G. Johnston of Portland. In answer
to some observations of Mr. Hill’s, this gentleman writes, “The
ring-necked Swallow abounds here, and flies all day, just as the other
Swift does. Flocks of a hundred or two of each, wheel and scream about
us before a shower. I have a specimen before me, which I stuffed
sixteen years ago, pretty perfect yet, but I propose to shoot you some
fresh birds. I find no difficulty in bringing them down, but I never
saw one alight or perch anywhere.”

It is with doubt that I identify this bird with the “White-necked
Martin” of Temminck, found by the Prince de Nieuwied in his voyage to
Brazil. He states it to be very common in the environs of Rio Janeiro,
and in all the districts of that province, where “_it is found among
rocks_.” Perhaps it is Hirundo 3, of Browne.

When the above was just going to press, I received from Mr. Hill
information that a specimen of this bird had been obtained by Mr.
Johnston. A careful drawing of the left foot accompanied it, with the
following note. “The legs are curiously constructed: the tarsus cannot
_extend_ further than here represented, [viz. forming an angle with the
tibia, of 28°] nor can it be straightened, so that it corresponds with
the tail feathers, and keeps the bird in an upright position against
vertical rocks and trees.” Mr. J. ascertained that from this formation,
the bird cannot stand erect on the ground, nor can it apparently walk;
and he has been told that cattle-boys and fishermen in Portland both
say that they have taken young ones of this species _clinging_ to the
vertical honey-comb rocks, against whose base the sea dashes. As the
specimen thus procured is kindly destined for me, I hope to speak still
more definitely, if it arrive in time, in an appendix. Perhaps it may
form a new genus.

Mr. Johnston’s little boys, familiar with Peter Wilkins’s story, have
been accustomed to call these birds _Gowries_; because of the rushing
noise they make with their wings; a noise that is heard even when they
sweep by, far overhead. I have adopted this appellation.


                            PALM SWIFT.[13]

                    _Tachornis phœnicobia._—+Mihi.+

  [13] +Tachornis.+ _Generic Character._—Bill very short, depressed,
  gape very wide, the sides suddenly compressed at the tip, which
  is curved; the margins inflected: nostrils, large, longitudinal,
  placed in a membranous groove, the margins destitute of feathers.
  Wings very long and narrow; first quill tapered to a point: second
  longest. Tail slightly forked, a little emarginated. Tarsi rather
  longer than middle toe, feathered. Toes all directed forwards,
  compressed, short, thick, and strong, with compressed claws.
  Sternum immarginate, but with three foramina, one through the
  ridge, and one on each side.

  Length 4²⁄₁₀ inches, expanse 9⁴⁄₁₀, flexure 4, reach of wings
  beyond the tail ⁹⁄₁₀, tail, outer feathers 1⁷⁄₁₀, uropygials 1³⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, beak ³⁄₂₀, tarsus ¹⁄₄, middle toe rather less than ¹⁄₄.

  Irides dark hazel; beak black; feet purplish flesh-colour; claws
  horn-colour; inside of mouth, flesh-colour, tinged in parts with
  bluish. Head smoke brown, paling on the sides; back, wings,
  tail-coverts, and tail, sooty-black, unglossed, or with slight
  greenish reflections on the tail. Across the rump a broad band of
  pure white, the black descending into it from the back, in form of
  a point; sometimes dividing it. Chin and throat silky white, the
  feathers brown at the base; sides smoky-black, meeting in a narrow,
  ill-defined line across the breast; medial belly white. Thighs,
  under tail-coverts, and inner surface of wings smoky-black.

This delicately-formed little Swift, conspicuous even in flight,
from the broad belt of white across the black body, is a very
common species in Jamaica, where it resides all the year. Over the
grass-pieces and savannas of the lowlands, the marshy flats at the
seaward mouths of the valleys, as well as the pens of the mountain
slopes, this swift-winged sylph daily urges its rushing course in
parties of half-a-dozen to fifty or a hundred, often mingled with
other Swallows, performing mazy evolutions, circling and turning,
crossing and recrossing, now darting aloft, now sweeping over the
grass, till the eye is wearied with attempting to follow them. The
length of its wings, which is scarcely less than that of the whole
bird,—renders it a fleet and powerful flier; an attentive observation
will be able to identify it, when mingling in aerial career, by a
more frequent recurrence of the rapid vibration of the wings, the
momentary winnowing, by which a fresh impetus is gained. There is a
very interesting structure in the sternum of this bird, which as far
as I know is unprecedented. The sternum, though void of emarginations,
possesses two oblong foramina of large size, one on each side of the
middle of the ridge, and a round one perforating the ridge itself near
the front margin. As all three are closed by the usual membrane, the
object may be, the decrease of weight by the abstraction of bone,
while the surface for the attachment of the muscles of flight remains
undiminished. It would be interesting to know whether this structure is
found in the Collocaliæ of the Indian Archipelago, to which the present
bird bears a strong outward resemblance.

The stomach of one, a female, which I dissected, shot while hawking
among many others over Bluefields’ grass-piece, in April, was distended
almost to bursting with minute insects, which on being dispersed
in water, and examined carefully with a lens, proved, I believe
exclusively, the winged females of a small species of ant, exceedingly
numerous, all more or less comminuted.

On the 20th of March last, visiting in company with Mr. Hill the estate
called Dawkins’ Saltpond, the residence of the Spanish Admiral, at
the time of the conquest,—I observed several small Swallows flying
above some cocoa-nut palms; they uttered, as they flew, a continued
twittering warble, shrill but sweet, which attracted my attention. I
commenced a careful search, with my eye, of the under surface of the
fronds and spadices of one, and at length discerned some masses of
cotton projecting from some of the spathes, which I concluded to be
their nests. This conjecture proved correct; for presently I discovered
a bird clinging to one of these masses, which I shot, and found to be
this White-rumped Swift. On my lad’s attempt to climb the tree, eight
or ten birds flew in succession from various parts, where they had
been concealed before. The tree, however, was too smooth to be climbed,
and as we watched beneath for the birds to return, one and another
came, but charily, and entered their respective nests. Although several
other cocoa-nuts were close by, I could not discern that any one of
them was tenanted but this, and this so numerously, whence I inferred
the social disposition of the bird. At some distance we found another
tree, at the foot of which lay the dried fronds, spadices, and spathes,
which had been, in the course of growth, thrown off, and in these were
many nests. They were formed chiefly in the hollow spathes, and were
placed in a series of three or four in a spathe, one above another,
and agglutinated together, but with a kind of gallery along the side,
communicating with each. The materials seemed only feathers and
silk-cotton (the down of the _Bombax_); the former very largely used,
the most downy placed within, the cotton principally without; the whole
felted closely, and cemented together by some slimy fluid, now dry,
probably the saliva. With this they were glued to the spathe, and that
so strongly, that in tearing one out, it brought away the integument
of the spathe. The walls of the nests, though for the most part only
about a quarter of an inch thick, were felted so strongly, as to be
tenacious almost as cloth. Some were placed within those spathes that
yet contained the spadices; and in this case the various footstalks of
the fruit were enclosed in a large mass of the materials, the walls
being greatly thickened. All the nests were evidently old ones, for
the _Bombax_ had not yet perfected its cotton, and hence I infer that
these birds continue from year to year to occupy the same nests, until
they are thrown off by the growth of the tree. The entrance to the
nests, which were subglobular, was near the bottom.

Near the middle of May, my servant Sam, being engaged at Culloden, in
Westmoreland parish, cutting the fronds of the palmetto (_Chamœrops_)
for thatching, found these little birds nestling in abundance, and
procured for me many nests of the present season. Their recent
construction, and perhaps the diversity of their situation—for instead
of the hollow of a spathe, these were attached to the plaited surface
of the fronds,—gave them a different appearance from the former
specimens. Many of these I have now in my possession. They have a
singularly hairy appearance, being composed almost exclusively of the
flax-like cotton of the _Bombax_, and when separated, are not unlike a
doll’s wig. They are in the form of those watch-fobs, which are hung
at beds’ heads, the backs being firmly glued by saliva to the under
surface of the fronds, the impressions of the plaits of which are
conspicuous on the nests when separated. The thickness is slight in the
upper part, but in the lower it is much increased, the depth of the cup
descending very little below the opening. The cotton is cemented firmly
together as in the case of the others, but externally it is allowed to
hang in filamentous locks, having a woolly, but not altogether a ragged
appearance. A few feathers are intermixed, but only singly, and not
in any part specially. One specimen is double, two nests having been
constructed so close side by side, that there is but a partition wall
between them. Many nests had eggs, but in throwing down the fronds all
were broken but one, which I now have. It is pure white, unspotted,
larger at one end, measuring ¹³⁄₂₀ inch by ⁹⁄₂₀. The average dimensions
of the nests were about 5 inches high, and 3¹⁄₂ wide.

The genus _Tachornis_ seems intermediate between _Cypselus_ and
_Collocalia_, with considerable general resemblance to the latter. This
species is perhaps Hirundo 1, of Browne.


                            BLACK SWIFT.[14]

                           _Cypselus niger._

          _Hirundo nigra_,          +Gmel.+

  [14] Length 6¹⁄₂ inches, expanse—? flexure 6²⁄₁₀, reaching about
  1 inch beyond the tail, tail outmost feather 2³⁄₄, uropygials 2,
  rictus ¹⁄₂, beak from forehead ²⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹⁄₂, middle toe ⁴⁄₁₀,
  lateral toes sub-equal, hallux opposite. Outmost tail-feathers
  sub-rounded, the rest elegantly emarginated. First and second
  quills equal, the rest graduated rapidly.

  Irides ——? beak and feet black. Whole plumage black, very slightly
  glossed with raven-grey, and greenish; head and under parts
  approaching to smoke brown. The feathers of the forehead tipped
  with whitish; a grey spot just behind the lower eyelid.

The description below is made from a dried skin in very poor order, but
assisted by one of Mr. Hill’s exquisite drawings, executed when the
bird was recent. It was shot in 1843, near Spanish-town, in company
with many others. I conclude it to be the _nigra_ of Gmelin and
Latham, as the latter ornithologist attributes that species to St.
Domingo as well as Guiana.


                           CAVE SWALLOW.[15]

                      _Hirundo pœciloma._—+MIHI.+

  [15] Length 5¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 11, flexure 4, tail 1¹⁷⁄₂₀, rictus
  ¹¹⁄₂₀, beak along culmen ³⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁵⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀,
  lateral toes ³⁄₁₀, equal.

  Irides dark brown; beak black, feet dark grey. Forehead dark
  chestnut; crown and hind head black, glossed with greenish-blue;
  cheeks, chin, and throat paler chestnut, separated from that of
  the forehead by the black passing over each eye to the nostrils;
  the chestnut of the throat runs up in a narrow collar round the
  neck; back variegated with blue-green, and white, each feather
  being white, with a dark tip; rump chestnut, the feathers sometimes
  having pale tips; tail-coverts and tail brownish black, the former
  having pale tips; tail nearly even; wings brownish black, the
  tertiaries _in some_, edged and tipped with white; breast and sides
  pale chestnut, the colour deepening in a crescent-shaped band
  across the breast; medial belly, white; under tail-coverts pale
  chestnut. First and second quills equal. Legs feathered to the
  tarsal joint. The sexes exactly alike.

  Intestine 4 inches; two minute cæca ³⁄₄ of an inch from cloaca.

Mature consideration convinces me that this species is quite distinct
from the _H. fulva_ of Vieillot though closely allied to it. The
present may be at once recognised by the conspicuous mottling of its
shoulders and back with white and blue black, a character which, as far
as I have examined, is invariable. The form of its nest also differs
greatly from the bottle-like structures of the interesting bird of the
Rocky Mountains.

The Cave Swallow does not appear to be in any degree migratory in
Jamaica, being abundantly common at all seasons. It delights in the
neighbourhood of caverns and overhanging rocks, in the hollows of which
it builds its ingenious nest. About a mile from Bluefields, the sea
washes a precipitous rock of no great height, on the summit of which is
an old fort, with some great guns, which tradition ascribes to the old
Spanish settlers, but now dismantled, and within and without overrun
with spiny pinguins and logwood bushes, and tangled with creepers. I
have no doubt that this was the site of the Spanish town Oristana,
some remains of the houses of which may yet be seen in the provision
ground of a negro peasant adjoining. The foot of the cliff is girt with
irregular masses of honey-combed rock, between which the incoming tide
rolls, and frets, and boils, in foaming confusion; and the front is
hollowed into caves, some of which are long passages with an opening
at each end, and others are merely wide-mouthed, but shallow hollows.
In one of these I counted forty nests of this species of Swallow, each
consisting of a half cup, built with little pellets of mud, retaining,
in so damp a situation, and where the rock itself is covered with a
slimy mouldiness,—their original humidity. Each was thickly lined with
silk-cotton. If we imagine a pint basin divided perpendicularly through
the middle, and the one-half stuck against a wall, we shall perceive
the form of these nests; some, however, were both larger and deeper
than this. In many instances advantage was taken of a slight hollow
in the rock, which increased the capacity. In one, (it was about the
middle of July,) I found three eggs; in some others the callow young,
and in one two full fledged birds, which lay quietly in the nest, side
by side, while their black eyes watched my motions. The parent birds
flew about in affright, occasionally coming close up to the nests, and
hovering as if about to alight, but scarcely one ventured in. The eggs
measure about ⁸⁄₁₀ inch long, and ¹¹⁄₂₀ wide; they are white, studded
with dots and spots of dull red; but in many eggs which I have examined
there is much variation in size, form, and colour. The young birds
scarcely differed from the adult.

In May, my kind friend Mr. Aaron Deleon, took me to a curious cavern,
situated on the estate called Amity, some few miles from Savannah le
Mar, but inland. Through its dark recesses a subterraneous river flows,
so still and so perfectly transparent, that although two or three feet
deep, I did not perceive that there was a drop of water there, but took
the atoms floating on its surface, to be lodged in invisible spiders’
webs, stretched across. Numerous Swallows were flying in and out, and
the roof was studded with nests similar to those above described.

Though this little Swallow manifests a decided predilection for
cavernous recesses, it does not confine itself to situations so
recluse. In that part of the “King’s House,” at Spanish town, which
is called the Arcade, where clerks are writing, and public business
is transacted every day, great numbers of these nests are affixed to
the beams and joists, and the birds are continually flying to and fro.
Before the year 1838, they had built in the Secretary’s Office, from
time immemorial; but it was not in consequence of any molestation
there, that in the Year of Freedom, they chose the vice-regal abode.
Did they then recognise the administrator of England’s power as the
friend of Jamaica?

In December, January, and February, the birds, though they fly in and
out of the august abode without reserve, as if to maintain their right
of way, do not make use of the nests; but all the rest of the year,
these mud habitations are occupied. In March the old birds begin to
repair and tenant their former nests; but the young, having no home
ready made, are compelled to wait until the May rains have moistened
the earth in the roads, to afford them mud for their structures.

But as soon as these seasonal changes have taken place, these birds
may be seen congregated on the roads, in groups of fifty together,
huddled at the edges of the pools formed by the daily rains, and in
those places where the power of the morning sun has already evaporated
the water, and the mud has begun to acquire a stiffness of consistence,
which probably is more suitable for moulding to their nests. As
they alight to pick up the pellets, their wings are held nearly
perpendicularly over the back, and they are incessantly fluttering
about, apparently hindering one another by their crowding. Many may be
seen engaged, where the pools are a little wider, or where the streams
that cross the road dilate into a broad surface, in sweeping backward
and forward over the water, which at every turn they just kiss with
their beaks. I know not whether they are drinking, or capturing minute
surface insects.


                          GOLDEN SWALLOW.[16]

                      _Hirundo euchrysea._—+Mihi.+

  [16] Length 4⁶⁄₁₀, expanse —? flexure 4¹⁄₁₀, tail 1⁵⁄₁₀, rictus
  ⁵⁄₁₀, beak along culmen ²⁄₁₀, (nearly,) tarsus ⁴⁄₁₀, middle toe
  ⁵⁄₁₀, (nearly,) lateral toes ³⁄₁₀, equal.

  Irides ——? beak black; feet purplish-black. Whole upper parts
  metallic green, most splendidly glossed with golden as in many
  Humming-birds. Wing quills and tail have less gloss, and the inner
  webs are dull black. The tertials and the greater coverts have a
  well defined band along the outer edge, of rich golden red, and the
  middle and smaller coverts have a ribbon-like border of emerald
  green. The green of the head descends around the rictus to the
  chin. Throat, breast, belly, vent, and under tail-coverts, pure
  white, soft and downy. First quill longest. Leg feathered to the
  tarsus. Tail slightly forked.

This exceedingly lovely little Swallow, whose plumage reflects the
radiance of the Humming-birds, is found, as I am informed by Mr.
Hill, in the higher mountains formed by the limestone range of the
very centre of the island, as in Manchester, and St. Ann’s. It is not
until we ascend this central chain, that we meet with this sweet bird,
occasionally in the more open dells, but principally confined to the
singular little glens called cockpits.

The description is from a dried specimen in my possession, kindly
presented by Mr. Hill.


                        GREAT BLUE SWALLOW.[17]

                         _Progne Dominicensis._

          _Hirundo Dominicensis_,     +Linn.+
          _Hirundo albiventris_,      +Vieill.+ Ois. Am. pl. 28.

  [17] Length 8 inches, expanse 15¹⁄₄, flexure 5¹⁄₂, tail 2, rictus
  ¹⁹⁄₂₀, beak along culmen ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹³⁄₂₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀, hind
  toe ⁵⁄₁₀, outer toe slighter longer than inner.

  Irides dark hazel.

As closely allied to the Purple Martin, in manners, as in form and
colouring, I long mistook the present bird for that well-known species,
as I think others have done also. The white belly is, however, a
sufficient mark of distinction. It is very common, at least in the
lowlands and inferior mountain ranges, during the summer; some remain
with us through the winter, but as there is a very marked diminution
of their numbers, I conclude that a large body of them migrate on the
approach of that season, probably to Central America. About the end of
March we see them in great numbers, assembled early in the morning on
the topmost branches of the lofty cotton trees, which at that season
are leafless. On these they crowd so closely, side by side, that I have
known five to be killed at one discharge. In the autumn we observe
exactly the same habit. Perhaps we may trace some analogy here to
those periodical congregations of other species which are known to be
connected with migration.

It is a remarkable fact, that of the seven species of Swallows and
Swifts which summer in North America, all of which are stated to
migrate to the southward before winter, not one should have occurred to
me in Jamaica. Although every day through the winter months, my almost
undivided attention was given to birds; and though from August to April
about thirteen hundred specimens of birds fell into my hands, more
than one thousand of which were shot by myself and my servants, not a
single individual of a North American species was observed among them.
I simply state the fact, leaving any one to draw his own inferences.

At the same time, I should observe, that Mr. Hill thinks that
_Acanthylis pelasgia_ visits Jamaica in its periodical migration.
Referring to an incident which he had mentioned to me before, he says,
“The migratory _hirundines_, whose squadrons moving in circles, I gave
you a sketch of in March last, as seen by me at that time passing
over us from south to north, (and I have observed them yearly either
in that month or in April,) I conclude to be flocks of _pelasgia_
on their passage to their summer homes northward, after wintering
in the tropics. The circular movement of the migratory retinue; the
direction of their flight; their known wintering on the neighbouring
intertropical shores; their association at all times in multitudinous
numbers; and the cry with which they announce their passage, as they
leisurely course round,—_tsippee, tsippee, tsippee_, seem to me so many
identifications of this species.”

The Blue Swallow has the same propensity to bring up his family in
darkness, as his purple brother. The stipe of an old palm, whose porous
centre decays, while the iron fibres of the exterior remain strong,
is his ordinary resort. At the beginning of April, I observed several
pairs flying in and out of holes, bored I suppose by the Woodpecker, in
the stipe of a dead Cocoa-nut still tall and erect, but a mere leafless
post, tottering in the breeze and ready to fall. At the middle of May,
Sam observed several pairs entering a round hole, about two inches in
diameter, beneath the eaves of Belmont house.

Near the end of June, when on my way in a coasting boat from Bluefields
to Kingston, I was lying wind-bound in Starvegut Bay. There the
inhospitable shore is strewn with immense fragments of limestone rock,
honey-combed and fretted into holes, through which the surf breaking
furiously, finds vent in perpendicular jets and spouts of water, or in
columns of spray resembling steam from an engine-pipe, accompanied with
crashing roar. Yet I observed with interest, that the Blue Swallows
were frequenting these rocks, and I noticed one repeatedly going in
and out of a small hole near the summit of a rugged mass, separated
from the shore, and completely isolated by the boiling surf. Lansdown
Guilding, in some notes on the Zoology of the Caribbean Islands, (Zool.
Jour. III. 408,) observes, “We have but few of this family in St.
Vincents: among them is a Swallow, which roosts, and I believe builds,
in the rock of the sea-shore. It is curious,” he adds, “to observe the
bird in calm weather skimming patiently along the sea in search of
insects, evidently ignorant of the fact that they are confined to fresh
water, and do not sport on the surface of salt waters.” I cannot agree,
however, with this accomplished naturalist here: that the Swallows do
occasionally skim over the sea, is undeniable; and that gnats and other
minute insects are also in the habit of frequenting the salt water,
though not in such numbers as over the fresh ponds and rivers, is no
less certain, at least in Jamaica.


                     +Fam.+—TODIDÆ.—(_The Todies._)

                            GREEN TODY.[18]

                            _Todus viridis._

          _Todus viridis_,            +Linn.+—Nat. Lib. (Flyc.) vign.
          ? _Todus multicolor_,       +Lafresn.+

  [18] Length 4¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 6¹⁄₂, tail 1⁵⁄₁₀, flexure 1⁸⁄₁₀,
  rictus ¹⁹⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀.

  Irides very pale grey; pupils very large; beak above horny red,
  beneath pale crimson; legs and feet reddish brown; sometimes
  flesh-colour, or purplish-horn. The sexes exactly alike.

  I doubt much if _Todus multicolor_ of Lafresnaye, figured in
  D’Orbigny’s Birds of Cuba, is specifically different from this;
  the slight distinctions of hue being scarcely more than variations
  which I have found in Jamaican specimens; some of which, in my
  possession, display the pale blue on the sides of the throat, and
  the orange on the flanks.

In all parts of Jamaica that I have visited, the Tody is a very common
bird. On the summit of Bluefields mountain, about three thousand
feet from the level of the sea, and particularly where the deserted
provision-grounds are overgrown with a thicket, almost impenetrable,
of jointer, or joint-wood (_Piper geniculatum_), it is especially
abundant. Always conspicuous from its bright grass-green coat, and
crimson-velvet gorget, it is still a very tame bird; yet this seems
rather the tameness of indifference than of confidence; it will allow
a person to approach very near, and, if disturbed, alight on another
twig a few yards distant. We have often captured specimens with the
insect net, and struck them down with a switch, and it is not uncommon
for the little boys to creep up behind one, and actually to clap the
hand over it as it sits, and thus secure it. It is a general favourite,
and has received a favourite name, that of Robin Redbreast. There is
little resemblance, however, between the West Indian and the European
namesakes. I have never seen the Tody on the ground; but it hops about
the twigs of low trees, searching for minute insects, occasionally
uttering a querulous, sibilant note. But more commonly it is seen
sitting patiently on a twig, with the head drawn in, the beak pointing
upwards, the loose plumage puffed out, when it appears much larger than
it is. It certainly has an air of stupidity when thus seen. But this
abstraction is more apparent than real; if we watch it, we shall see
that the odd-looking grey eyes are glancing hither and thither, and
that, ever and anon, the bird sallies out upon a short feeble flight,
snaps at something in the air, and returns to his twig to swallow it.
It is instructive to note by how various means the wisdom of God has
ordained a given end to be attained. The Swallow and the Tody live on
the same prey, insects on the wing; and the short, hollow, and feeble
wings of the latter, are as effectual to him, as the long and powerful
pinions are to the Swallow. He has no powers to employ in pursuing
insects, but he waits till they come within his circumscribed range,
and no less certainly secures his meal.

I have never seen the Tody eating vegetable food; but I have
occasionally found in its stomach, among minute coleopterous and
hymenopterous insects, a few small seeds. One, which I kept in a cage,
would snatch worms from me with impudent audacity; and then beat them
violently against the perch or sides of the cage to divide, before he
swallowed, them.

One, captured with a net in April, on being turned into a room, began
immediately to catch flies, and other minute insects that flitted
about, particularly little destructive _Tineadæ_ that infested my
dried birds. At this employment he continued incessantly, and most
successfully, all that evening, and all the next day from earliest
dawn to dusk. He would sit on the edge of the tables, on the lines, on
shelves, or on the floor, ever glancing about, now and then flitting
up into the air, when the snap of his beak announced a capture, and
he returned to some station to eat it. He would peep into the lowest
and darkest corners, even under the tables, for the little globose,
long-legged spiders, which he would drag from their webs and swallow.
He sought these also about the ceiling and walls, and found very many.
I have said that he continued at this employment all day without
intermission, and, though I took no account, I judged that, on an
average, he made a capture per minute. We may thus form some idea of
the immense number of insects destroyed by these and similar birds;
bearing in mind that this was in a room, where the human eye scarcely
recognised a dozen insects altogether; and that, in the free air,
insects would doubtless be much more numerous. Water in a basin was in
the room, but I did not see him drink, though occasionally he perched
on the brim; and when I inserted his beak into the water, he would
not drink. Though so actively engaged in his own occupation, he cared
nothing for the presence of man; he sometimes alighted voluntarily on
our heads, shoulders, or fingers; and when sitting, would permit me
at any time to put my hand over him and take him up; though, when in
the hand, he would struggle to get out. He seemed likely to thrive,
but incautiously settling in front of a dove-cage, a surly Baldpate
poked his head through the wires, and with his beak aimed a cruel blow
at the pretty green head of the unoffending and unsuspecting Tody. He
appeared not to mind it at first, but did not again fly; and about an
hour afterward, on my taking him into my hand, and throwing him up, he
could only flutter to the ground, and on laying him on the table, he
stretched out his little feet, shivered, and died.

The inhabitants of Jamaica are not in the habit of domesticating many
of the native birds; else this is one of the species which would become
a favourite pet. In a state of liberty, however, it attracts the
admiration, even of the most unobservant, and an European is charmed
with it. As it sits on a twig in the verdure of spring, its grass-green
coat is sometimes undistinguishable from the leaves in which it is
embowered, itself looking like a leaf; but a little change of position
bringing its throat into the sun’s rays, the light suddenly gleams as
from a glowing coal. Occasionally, too, this crimson plumage is puffed
out into a globose form, when its appearance is particularly beautiful.

The tongue is fleshy for but a small part of its length, the remainder
consisting of a flat, or slightly concave, transparent, horny lamina;
just like a cut from the side of a quill; it is seen, under a lens, to
be snipped at the edges, into very minute and close-set barbs pointing
backwards. The skin is exceedingly thin, and so tender, as to render it
a very difficult task to prepare a specimen.

The Tody, as has been long known, builds in holes in the earth, in the
manner of the Kingfisher. Near Scott’s Cove, I was shown, by the side
of the deep road, holes in the clay, which were said to be the nesting
holes of the “Robin.” And near Spanish Town, a friend pointed out a
hole in a bank in his own garden, in which a Tody was then building, in
March. But, as I have never seen the nest or eggs, I am indebted to the
notes of Mr. Hill for a detailed description.

“The Green Tody is a bird of peculiar structure, and peculiar habits.
It is exclusively an insect feeder, and burrows in the earth to breed.
The banks of ravines, and the scarps of dry ditches, are excavated
by its feeble feet, in which two out of three of its front toes are
united together, leaving only the terminal joint free, and hence the
feet of this kind of birds are called _syndactylous_. The hole runs
into the banks some eight inches or a foot: at the extremity of this
subterranean lodging, it nestles in secrecy and security.

“As the subterranean nest is made wherever there is friable mould easy
of excavation,—ravines and gullies, whose banks are earthy, and where
the water passes off rapidly from the surface-soil, are generally
selected for breeding. These gullies are sheltered from exposure to
the drift rain by opposing banks, or they are covered by over-hanging
shrubs. The excavation is made by means of the beak and claws. It
is a winding gallery, rounded at the bottom, and terminating in a
sufficiently wide lodging, lined with pliant fibres, and dry moss and
cotton, placed with some attention to arrangement. Four or five grey,
brown-spotted eggs are laid, and the young are fed within the cave till
they are full-fledged.

“The combination of circumstances that make up a fit nestling place for
it, may be well understood from the following selection of a burrow,
by a pair of birds, in the garden of a friend. A box filled with earth
had been placed on tressels within water, for growing lettuces from
seed, or rather for saving the seed, whilst vegetating, from the
depredations of ants. The box had performed its office;—the lettuces
had been transplanted, and the mould remained in undisturbed fallow.
The box having a knot-hole in the side, through this hole a pair of
Todies burrowed a gallery into the heart of the mould, built a nest,
and reared a family of young ones. They were assiduous sitters, the
male and female relieving each other. Though they attracted a good deal
of attention, and were not unfrequently disturbed by the curiosity of
visitors, they steadfastly pursued their family affairs, and showed
surprising vigilance and caution in escaping out of their cavern, when
they were either watched, or attempts were made to catch them. They
never failed to profit by the moment when attention was withdrawn from
them, either to come from out of their cave, or to dart into it. On
opening the earth after the young had fled, there was found a capacious
winding gallery into the centre of the box, ending in a circular
lodging, in which was contained the nest, composed of fibrous roots and
cotton.

“There is such an obvious similarity between the Kingfisher and the
Tody, particularly the brilliant blue and green European Kingfisher,
that few who are acquainted with both fail to recognise their affinity.
The brilliant plumage of the two birds; the patient watchfulness with
which they both sit on some exposed twig to await the vagrant prey;
their short flight from station to station; and their repeated return
to the same spot;—independent of that intimate resemblance in the
structure of their extremities, which led Brisson, Latreille, and
Cuvier, to arrange the Halcyons in company with the Todies, would
induce one to conclude that there was some propinquity in their
natures, without any great knowledge of Natural History. The difference
of the element in which they severally seek their food, does not
widen the affinity between them, for the Jacamars of America, and the
Martin-chasseurs of Africa, or King-hunters, as they are called, to
distinguish them, in their pursuit of a terrestrial or aërial prey,
from the Kingfishers or Martin-pecheurs, which seek theirs only in
the water,—are placed in no less near a relationship of habits and
structure. The similarity is remarkably increased, when we go on to the
habit of burrowing, which prevails alike among all these birds, and to
the syndactyle form of the feet. These resemblances remove all doubt
about their classification.

“The Spaniards of Hispaniola call the Green Tody by a very appropriate
name, the Barrancali, from the barrancas or earthy ravine-cliffs in
which it builds; _barranca_ being the appellation for the deep breaks
and gullies made by the mountain-floods.”

A nest is in my possession, attributed to the Tody, which, if rightly
appropriated, is a remarkable deviation from a general habit. A person
of intelligence informed me, about the middle of May, that he knew of
a “Red-breast” building in a tree; at which he was surprised, knowing
its habit of burrowing to breed. I assured him that he must be in
error; but he was confident of the fact, however anomalous, as he had
seen the bird actually in the nest. In a few days he sent me the twig
with the nest upon it. It was certainly one to which I could assign no
probable ownership, but that he had mentioned. It was built on a small
shrubby tree, in the fork formed by one of the principal branches, and
a twig that it sent forth, being rather wider than a right angle. As
the main branch is not thicker than one’s little finger, and the nest
is stretched from the one to the other, the outline of the rim forms
a long oval about 1¹⁄₂ inch by ³⁄₄; and ³⁄₄ inch deep. It is a thin,
very frail structure, formed of spiders’ webs stretched along, in which
are profusely inlaid the shining, brown perules of some leaf-buds;
with the addition of a little silk-cotton, this is the whole: it
looks unfinished. To set against the improbability of this being the
nest of a Tody, there are these two considerations:—First, the direct
evidence of an intelligent and observant man, who, I feel sure, would
not willingly deceive me, and to whom the Tody was too familiar for him
to mistake its identity. Secondly, the nest is too small for any other
known Jamaican bird, except the Humming-birds; and I have specimens
of the nests of all our known species, not one of which it resembles
at all. I have no doubt that the report is correct, and that it is an
aberration of habit.


                +Fam.+—ALCEDINIDÆ.—(_The Kingfishers._)

                         BELTED KINGFISHER.[19]

                            _Ceryle Alcyon._

          _Alcedo alcyon_,            +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 77.
          _Ceryle alcyon_,            +Boie+.

  [19] Length 13¹⁄₈ inches, expanse 21¹⁄₂, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 3¹⁄₂,
  rictus 2⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁵⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁸⁄₁₀.

On my arrival in Jamaica in December, I used frequently to see this
well-known bird sitting on the bushes that overhang the romantic river
of Bluefields, or shooting along on swift wing, over its rapid course.
As the spring came on, however, and merged into summer, I ceased to see
it, there or elsewhere, no doubt because it had migrated to the north;
the very individuals that I had seen in Jamaica being, perhaps, now
in Canada. About the beginning of September it again appeared, rather
numerously for a solitary bird, scarcely a morning passing without
our seeing one or more along the sea-side. Where the mangrove or the
sea-grape stretches its branches down to the water’s edge, stopping the
way along the yellow beach, the Kingfisher delights to resort, sitting
on a projecting twig; here he waits patiently for the approach of some
small fish, on which he drops perpendicularly, and having seized it in
his powerful beak, emerges from the wave, and returns to his former
station to swallow it. It is a very shy and recluse bird; I have found
scarcely any more difficult of approach: the posts of observation which
he chooses are mostly such as command a wide view; and it is very wary;
long before the gunner can creep within shot, the bird takes alarm, and
darts away to a distant tree. Often as it sits watching, and sometimes
at the moment of flying, it utters a loud rattling _churr_.

Though in general a solitary bird, it is not unusual to observe two
playing together, chasing each other from tree to tree. A pair which
I obtained soon after their autumnal appearance, were thus engaged.
I watched them a long while, endeavouring to get a shot at them, but
owing to their wariness, was long unsuccessful. They took a wide round,
including, as alighting places, three high cotton-trees, one or two
mangroves, and a sea-grape, returning to these in succession, though
not with perfect regularity. As they flew they called to each other,
with the usual harsh cry; now and then they paused to mark the shoals
of small fishes that were swimming beneath, and plunged down upon them;
and I noticed that at such times the bird went wholly under water. Once
both birds seized the same fish, nearly at the same moment, and rising
with it into the air, each tugged in contrary directions, until the
grasp of one gave way. At last my assistant, Sam, taking advantage of
a dense and matted withe near one of the alighting trees, concealed
himself in it, whence he shot them both. The first was only wounded,
and falling into the water swam out sea-ward, _striking out_ boldly,
the wings, however, partially opened. On being seized he proved very
fierce, erecting the long crest, and endeavouring to strike with his
pointed beak. He got hold of my thumb, and squeezed so powerfully, that
the cutting edge of the upper mandible sliced a piece of flesh clean
out. He was tenacious of life, for though I pressed the trachea until
motion ceased, he repeatedly revived.

The form of the body of this bird, in conjunction with the head and
beak, is wedge-shaped, the tip of the latter being the point. This
form is admirably suited for its sudden and impetuous plunges upon
its fishy prey; as the powerful texture, great size, sharp point, and
cutting edges of the beak, are for holding it. The feathers of the
throat and breast are of the closest texture, and lie on each other
like scales, preventing the access of any water to the body, while,
from their glossy, satiny surface, the water is thrown off instantly on
emersion, as from the plumage of a duck. The feet again, though small,
are muscular, the tarsus very short, the toes united into a broad,
flat palm, and the claws unusually strong, short, and sharp. When one
remembers that the Kingfisher digs his own cave out of the clayey or
gravelly cliffs to the depth of several feet, we shall see the use of
his strong and broad feet, as we may see it also in the Mole. Beautiful
proofs of our God’s consummate wisdom in forming his creatures!


              +Fam.+—NECTARINIADÆ.—(_The Honey-suckers._)

                     BLACK AND YELLOW CREEPER.[20]

                             _Banana Quit._

                         _Certhiola flaveola._

          _Certhia flaveola_,         +Linn.+—Edw. 122.
          _Nectarinia Antillensis_,   +Less.+
          _Certhiola flaveola_,       +Sundev.+

  [20] Length 4¹⁄₈ inches, expanse 6¹⁄₂, flexure 2⁵⁄₁₀, tail 1³⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹³⁄₂₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀.

  Male. Irides dark hazel; beak black, very acute; feet slate-grey:
  tongue bifid, penicillate. Upper parts black, except the rump,
  which is bright yellow, well-defined. Outer web of the primaries
  white at base, which then runs down along the edge; secondaries,
  tertials, and tail feathers very slightly tipped with white: on the
  outmost tail-feather the white tip is very much increased. Over the
  eye a broad arched stripe of white. Throat dull, dark grey. Under
  parts yellow, deepest on the breast, divided from the grey by a
  transverse line, very pale or white on under tail-coverts. Inner
  surface of wings white; edge of shoulder brilliant yellow.

  Female, and young of year. Upper parts blackish olive; band
  over eye, rump, and whole under parts dull, pale yellow; wing
  quills dull black, bases white; tail black, tips whitish. Colours
  ill-defined.

Scarcely larger than the average size of the Humming-birds, this
little Creeper is often seen in company with them, probing the same
flowers, and for the same purpose, but in a very different manner.
Instead of hovering in front of each blossom, a task to which his short
wings would be utterly incompetent, the Quit alights on the tree, and
proceeds, in the most business-like manner, to peep into the flowers,
hopping actively from twig to twig, and throwing the body into all
positions, often clinging by the feet with the back downwards, the
better to reach the interior of a blossom, with his curved beak, and
pencilled tongue. The minute insects which are always found in the
interior of flowers, are the object of his search, and the reward of
his perseverance. Unsuspectingly familiar, these birds often resort
to the blossoming shrubs of gardens and yards. A large Moringa tree,
that is all through the year profusely set with fragrant spikes of
bloom, is a favourite resort both of these and the Humming-birds. One
within a few feet of my window, is, while I write this note, being
carefully scrutinised by two active little creatures, that pursue their
examination with a zeal perfectly undisturbed by my looking on, while
the same blossoms are rifled on one side by a minute Humming-bird,
and on the other by that gorgeous butterfly _Urania Sloaneus_: an
interesting association! The Quit often utters a soft, sibilant note,
as it peeps about.

The nest of this bird is very frequently, perhaps usually, built in
those low trees and bushes, from whose twigs depend the paper nests of
the Brown Wasps, and in close contiguity with them. The Grass Quits
are said to manifest the same predilection: it is a singular exercise
of instinct, almost of reason; for the object is doubtless the defence
afforded by the presence of the formidable insects; but upon what terms
the league of amity is contracted between the neighbours, I am ignorant.

It is in the months of May, June, and July, that this Creeper performs
the business of incubation. On the 4th of May, as I was riding to
Savanna le Mar, I observed a Banana Quit with a bit of silk-cotton in
her beak; and on searching, found a nest just commenced in a sage-bush
(_Lantana camara_). The structure, though but a skeleton, was evidently
about to be a dome, and _so far_, was constructed of silk-cotton. Since
then I have seen several completed nests. One now before me, is in the
form of a globe, with a small opening below the side. The walls are
very thick, composed of dry grass, intermixed irregularly with the down
of _Asclepias_. It appeared to have been forsaken, from my having paid
it too much attention. It was fixed between the twigs of a branch of
a _Bauhinia_, that projected over the high road, near Content, in St.
Elizabeths. Another which I found at the end of June, in a sage-bush,
was of the same structure; in this were two eggs, greenish-white,
thickly but indefinitely dashed with reddish, at the larger end.
Robinson states the dimensions thus:—“the length about 3¹⁄₂ eighths,
the diameter about 2¹⁄₂ eighths,” but I find my specimens much larger
than this: accurate measurement giving ⁵⁄₈ inch by rather less than ¹⁄₂
inch.

An exceedingly interesting memoir, from the pen of Mr. Hill, on the
prevalence of domed nests within the tropics, and the connexion of this
fact with electricity, will be found in the Zoological Transactions for
September 14th, 1841.


                          SPOTTED CREEPER.[21]

                     (_Cape May Warbler._—+Wils.+)

                         _Certhiola maritima._

          _Sylvia maritima_,          +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 414.
          _Sylvicola maritima_,       +Sw.+

  [21] Length 4³⁄₄ inches, expanse 8²⁄₁₀, flexure 2¹⁄₂, tail 1⁸⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀.

It is with hesitation that I place this species in the genus Certhiola.
The extreme slenderness of the beak, its curved form, and acute tip,
the form of the wings, the length of the tarsi, and above all, _the
pencil of hairs_ which forms the termination of the tongue, have guided
me in this decision. It appears to be so rare in the United States,
that but a single specimen occurred to the indefatigable Wilson, and
but one to the Prince of Canino. I found it rather less scarce in
Jamaica, having obtained some four or five specimens in the course of
the autumn and winter. The character of its plumage is certainly that
of the Warblers, as is its seasonal change: of its manners I regret
that I have no notes. When it arrives with us in October, the crown of
the male, instead of being deep black, is ashy-grey, tinged here and
there with yellow, and studded with black spots, the feathers having
black disks with ashy borders. In February, by the growth of the
feathers, and the wearing off of the edges, the black spots have become
confluent, forming an unbroken black surface, which is its summer
character. The fat of this species is of a deep fulvous hue, almost
orange.


               +Fam.+—TROCHILIDÆ. (_The Humming-birds._)

                        MANGO HUMMING-BIRD.[22]

                           _Lampornis Mango._

          _Trochilus mango_,          +Linn.+
          _Lampornis mango_,          +Swains.+

  [22] Length 5 inches to 5¹⁄₄, expanse 7¹⁄₈, tail 1³⁄₄, rictus
  1²⁄₁₀, flexure 2⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹⁄₄, middle toe ⁷⁄₂₀.

  Irides, dark hazel; beak and feet black.

For what reason Linnæus applied the trivial name of Mango to this
Humming-bird I have no knowledge; that it could have no connexion with
the mango tree is evident, since that tree was not introduced into the
western world till long after his time. It was perhaps a native name.
It is not confined to Jamaica, but seems more widely spread than most
of these tiny birds. Lesson says, “The Mango inhabits Jamaica, and, as
it appears, not only the greater Antilles, but also Terra Firma, and
even, it is said, Brazil and Guiana.” Hence it has long been familiar
to naturalists. It is the Largest or Blackest Humming-bird of Sloane.
Lesson, in “Les Colibris,” has given no less than four figures of this
species in different ages, pl. xiii. to xv., but I cannot say much in
their praise.

The _Polythmus Mexicanus_ and _Polythmus Jamaicensis_ of Brisson,
both refer, without doubt, to the present bird. It is _le plastron
noir_ of Buffon. Whether _Trochilus gramineus_ of St. Domingo, which
has been supposed to represent this species in that sister island, is
really any thing more than a variety, I have no means of determining.
My valued friend Mr. Hill, in writing to me observes, “Buffon makes
his ‘_plastron noir_’ of Jamaica, common to Brazil and St. Domingo.
The compensatory bird in St. Domingo is much more green than Jamaica
specimens; i. e., with a less disposition to assume the violet and
purple in the changes of light, and with decidedly a less prevalence of
what Buffon designates the ‘beau noir velouté.’”

I may add that both the birds alluded to have been familiar to my
friend, from personal observation in both islands.

The appellation by which the Mango Humming-bird is familiarly known to
the negroes in the colony, is that of “Doctor bird,” which, however,
is sometimes applied also to Polytmus. It is thus explained by Mr.
Hill:—“In the old time, when costume was more observed than now,—the
black livery among the gayer and more brilliant Trochilidæ represented
the Doctor. It might with equal propriety have been the parson; but
parsons were less known than doctors, in the old times of the colony.”

Though occurring at all seasons, I have not found the Mango abundant
at any; it is, indeed, far less common than either _Polytmus_ or
_Humilis_. It affects the lowlands in preference to the mountains, and
open places rather than the deep woods; yet it is rarely seen to suck
the blossoms of herbs or shrubs, as Humilis does, but like Polytmus
hovers around blossoming trees. The bunch of blossom at the summit of
the pole-like papaw-tree (_Carica papaya_) is a favourite resort of
this species, particularly at sunset. This habit I observed and took
advantage of very soon after my arrival, for there was a fine male
papaw tree in profuse bloom close to the door at Bluefields, which the
Mango frequented. Wishing to keep these birds in captivity, I watched
at the tree one evening with a gauze ring-net in my hand, with which I
dashed at one, and though I missed my aim, the attempt so astonished
it, that it appeared to have lost its presence of mind, so to speak,
flitting hurriedly hither and thither for several seconds before it
flew away. The next evening, however, I was more successful. I took
my station, and remained quite still, the net being held up close to
an inviting bunch of blossom: the Humming-birds came near in their
course round the tree, sipped the surrounding blossoms, eyeing the net;
hung in the air for a moment in front of the fatal cluster without
touching it, and then, arrow-like, darted away. At length one, after
surveying the net, passed again round the tree; on approaching it the
second time, perceiving the strange object to be still unmoved, he took
courage, and began to suck. I quite trembled with hope: in an instant
the net was struck, and before I could see anything, the rustling of
his confined wings within the gauze told that the little beauty was
a captive. I brought him in triumph to the house and caged him; but
he was very restless, clinging to the sides and wires, and fluttering
violently about. The next morning, having gone out on an excursion for
a few hours, I found the poor bird on my return, dying, having beaten
himself to death. I never again took this species alive.

The sustenance of the Humming-birds is, I feel assured, derived
almost exclusively from insects. That they seek the nectar of flowers
I readily admit, and that they will eagerly take dissolved sugar or
diluted honey in captivity I also know; but that this would maintain
life, or at least vigour, I have great reasons for doubting, which I
shall mention in the history of the following species. I have dissected
numbers of each of our species, and have invariably found the little
stomach distended with a soft black substance, exactly like what we
see in the stomachs of the Warblers, which being put into clear water,
and examined with a lens, proves to be entirely composed of minute
insects. The interior of flowers is almost always inhabited by very
small insects, and it is I believe principally to pick out these that
the Humming-birds probe the tubular nectaries of blossoms. Wilson
has mentioned his having observed the Ruby-throat (_T. Colubris_)
pursuing flies on the wing. I also have witnessed the same thing in our
species, many times. I have seen the Mango, just before night fall,
fluttering round the top of a tree on which were no blossoms, and from
the manner in which it turned hither and thither, while hovering in a
perpendicular position, it was manifest that it was catching minute
insects. This species when flying often flirts and flutters the tail in
a peculiar manner, throwing it in as he hangs perpendicularly in mid
air, when the appearance of the broad lustrous feathers, expanded like
a fan, is particularly beautiful.

The pugnacity of the Humming-birds has been often spoken of; two of
the same species can rarely suck flowers from the same bush without a
rencontre. Mango, however, will even drive away another species, which
I have never observed the others to do. I once witnessed a combat
between two of the present species, which was prosecuted with much
pertinacity, and protracted to an unusual length. It was in the month
of April, when I was spending a few days at Phœnix Park, near Savanna
le Mar, the residence of my kind friend, Aaron Deleon, Esq. In the
garden were two trees, of the kind called the Malay apple (_Eugenia
Malaccensis_), one of which was but a yard or two from my window. The
genial influence of the spring rains had covered them with a profusion
of beautiful blossoms, each consisting of a multitude of crimson
stamens, with very minute petals; like bunches of crimson tassels; but
the leaf-buds were but just beginning to open. A Mango Humming-bird
had, every day, and all day long, been paying his devoirs to these
charming blossoms. On the morning to which I allude, another came, and
the manœuvres of these two tiny creatures became highly interesting.
They chased each other through the labyrinth of twigs and flowers,
till, an opportunity occurring, the one would dart with seeming fury
upon the other, and then, with a loud rustling of their wings, they
would twirl together, round and round, until they nearly came to the
earth. It was some time before I could see, with any distinctness, what
took place in these tussles; their twirlings were so rapid as to baffle
all attempts at discrimination. At length an encounter took place
pretty close to me, and I perceived that the beak of the one grasped
the beak of the other, and thus fastened, both whirled round and round
in their perpendicular descent, the point of contact being the centre
of the gyrations, till, when another second would have brought them
both on the ground, they separated, and the one chased the other for
about a hundred yards, and then returned in triumph to the tree, where,
perched on a lofty twig, he chirped monotonously and pertinaciously
for some time;—I could not help thinking, in defiance. In a few
minutes, however, the banished one returned, and began chirping no
less provokingly, which soon brought on another chase, and another
tussle. I am persuaded that these were hostile encounters, for one
seemed evidently afraid of the other, fleeing when the other pursued,
though his indomitable spirit would prompt the chirp of defiance; and,
when resting after a battle, I noticed that this one held his beak
open, as if panting. Sometimes they would suspend hostilities to suck
a few blossoms, but mutual proximity was sure to bring them on again,
with the same result. In their tortuous and rapid evolutions, the
light from their ruby necks would now and then flash in the sun with
gem-like radiance; and as they now and then hovered motionless, the
broadly expanded tail,—whose outer feathers are crimson-purple, but
when intercepting the sun’s rays transmit orange-coloured light,—added
much to their beauty. A little Banana Quit, that was peeping among
the blossoms in his own quiet way, seemed now and then to look with
surprise on the combatants; but when the one had driven his rival to
a longer distance than usual, the victor set upon the unoffending
Quit, who soon yielded the point, and retired, humbly enough, to a
neighbouring tree. The war, for it was a thorough campaign, a regular
succession of battles, lasted fully an hour, and then I was called away
from the post of observation. Both of the Humming-birds appeared to be
adult males. I have alluded to the preference which different species
appear to manifest, for different blossoms; I may add that I have
observed _Mellisuga humilis_ come and suck the flowers of a Cashew tree
(_Anacardium_), without noticing those of the Malay apple close by,
while Mango seems to despise the former for the latter.

The lustrous glow reflected from the sides of the neck of the
adult male, may be unperceived on a careless examination. In such
Humming-birds as I have examined, (perhaps in all,) the iridescence of
those portions of the plumage that are changeable, is splendid in the
ratio of the acuteness of the angle formed by the incident ray and the
reflected one. Thus the plumes of the neck of Mango appear to advantage
in a room with a single light, only when the beholder stands with his
back to the window, and has the bird before him and facing him. Then
the perpendicular band down the throat and breast, which seems composed
of the richest black velvet, is bounded on each side by a broad band
of glowing crimson, mingled with violet. It must be borne in mind,
that _some_ of the brilliant hues of Humming-birds are permanent, not
changeable colours.

I have never met with the nest of this species; but Sam informed me in
June that he had observed one near Morgan’s Bridge, in Westmoreland.
It was on a dead tree, and was placed _upon_ a twig, but being full
fifteen feet from the ground he could not examine it. He, however, saw
the Mango Humming-bird fly out of it, and presently return. A nest,
presented to me by my friend Mr. Hill, ticketed as that of Mango,
is now before me. It has evidently been constructed to stand upon a
horizontal twig, which the bottom has embraced. It is cylindrical
externally, the bottom being nearly flat. Its height is 1¹⁄₂ inch; its
external diameter a little more; its internal diameter about 1 inch;
the hollow, which is a little overhung by the margin, is cup-shaped,
about ⁷⁄₈ inch deep. It is composed almost entirely of the down of the
gigantic silk-cotton tree, (_Eriodendron anfractuosum_) intermixed at
the bottom with a little true cotton. The sides are tightly banded
round with the threads of spiders’ webs, very neatly put on, and the
whole exterior is studded with a minute whitish lichen, so profusely
as almost entirely to conceal the down, without at all injuring the
symmetry of the form. It is a most compact and beautiful little
structure.

The down of the cotton-tree is the material ordinarily chosen by
all our Humming-birds for the construction of their nests. The tree
attains a giant size and diameter, and throws out to a vast distance
its horizontal limbs, each equalling in its dimensions an ordinary
forest tree. It is one of the few in those tropical islands, which are
deciduous: the fierce blasts called “norths,” which prevail in January
and February, pouring down from the mountains, quickly lay it bare.
I have seen an enormous tree in full foliage, almost leafless in an
hour; the leaves filling the air, like flakes of snow in a driving
storm. While it is yet denuded, the pods appear at the ends of the
branches, resembling green walnuts: these ripen before the leaves bud,
and opening, give freedom to a mass of fine silky filamentous down,
which is borne away upon the wind. The filaments are so fine, that at
this season, April and May, they are imbibed with the air we breathe,
being almost impalpable, and are considered to aggravate pulmonary
affections. The tufts so scattered, the Humming-birds and others of the
feathered tribes, diligently collect, and that not only on the ground.
I have been amused to observe a Mango Humming-bird suspending himself
in the air, over against a puff of down, which was slowly borne along
upon a gentle breeze, picking at it and drawing filaments from it,
doubtless with a view to nest-building.


                     LONG-TAILED HUMMING-BIRD.[23]

                         _Trochilus polytmus._

          _Trochilus polytmus_,       +Linn.+
          _Ornismya cephalatra_,      +Less.+—Ois. M. xvii.

  [23] Male. Length 10¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 6³⁄₈, tail, longest feather
  7¹⁄₂, outmost feather 1³⁄₄, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, rictus 1, tarsus ²⁄₁₀,
  middle toe ⁵⁄₂₀.

  Irides black; beak coral-red, the tip black; feet purplish-brown,
  soles paler. Crown, hind head, and nape deep velvety black,
  very slightly glossed; back, rump, wing and tail-coverts, rich
  golden-green; wings purplish-black, the outer edge of the first
  primary whitish; second primary longest; tail deep black, with
  bluish gloss, the uropygials, and the outer edges of the others
  glossed with golden-green, varying in intensity. The tail is
  slightly forked, the feathers regularly graduating from the
  uropygials outwards, save that the outmost but one is exceedingly
  lengthened. Throat, breast, and belly gorgeous emerald-green,
  extending to the thighs; vent and under tail-coverts, purpled
  black. The plumage of the hind head long and loose, descending in
  two lateral tufts upon the nape, which are to some extent erectile.

  Female, 4¹⁄₈ inches, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀, flexure 2²⁄₁₀. Irides dark brown;
  beak dull reddish-brown, black at edges and tip; feet nearly black.
  Front and crown dusky brown, scaled, gradually becoming green on
  the hind head, whence the whole upper plumage is rich golden-green.
  Tail blue black, the exterior two feathers on each side broadly
  tipped with white: uropygials golden green; the feathers graduate
  uniformly. Wings as in the male. Under parts white, the feathers
  having round tips of metallic green on the sides of the neck, and
  being mingled with green ones on the sides of the body. The plumage
  on each side of the nape, erectile, as in the male, but somewhat
  shorter.

This is the gem of Jamaican Ornithology. Its slender form, velvet
crest, emerald bosom, and lengthened tail-plumes, render it one of the
most elegant even of this most brilliant family. Though peculiar, as
far as I am aware, to Jamaica, it has long been known, though it would
seem from received figures and descriptions very imperfectly. Edwards
long ago gave a figure of it, which is recognisable. Lesson’s figure
and description are alike bad. The attitude is that never assumed by
a Humming-bird; the back of the neck is made green instead of black;
the scaly emerald plumage is diminished to a mere gorget instead of
extending over the whole breast and belly; the beak and feet are both
made yellow, whereas the former should have been crimson, the latter
purple-black. He makes “Les Polythmus” his tenth Race, which he thus
defines: “Beak short, straight: the external tail-feathers terminated
by two long blades or filaments (_brins_).” Here every character is
incorrect. The beak, though not long, is certainly not short; it is
not straight, but perceptibly curved, particularly in the female; the
curvature, it is true, varies in individuals, but I possess several
females whose beaks are more curved than that of Mango; it is not the
external tail-feather that is lengthened, but the second from the
outside; lastly, this feather is not terminated by a filament, or by
any structure varying from the other part; it is simply produced in
length.

Mr. Swainson writes as if he were unacquainted with this species, for
in speaking of the tendency of the lengthened external feathers of the
tail in certain families of birds to turn _outwards_ towards their
tips, he observes, “there is one solitary instance where these long
exterior feathers are turned _inwards_ instead of outwards: this occurs
in a Humming-bird figured by Edwards, as a native of Jamaica, _but we
have never yet_ seen it, nor is a specimen known to exist at this time
in any museum.” (Class. Birds, I. 105.) This is no other than Polytmus;
the long tail-feathers of which do bend inwards so as to cross each
other when the bird is resting. I may add here that these long feathers
have the inner edge prettily waved, not by actual indentation, but by a
puckering of the margin, like a frill.

The Long-tail is a permanent resident in Jamaica, and is not uncommonly
seen at all seasons and in all situations. It loves to frequent the
margins of woods and road-sides, where it sucks the blossoms of the
trees, occasionally descending, however, to the low shrubs. There
is one locality where it is abundant, the summit of that range of
mountains just behind Bluefields, and known as the Bluefields ridge.
Behind the peaks which are visible from the sea, at an elevation of
about half a mile, there runs through the dense woods a narrow path,
just passable for a horse, overrun with beautiful ferns of many
graceful forms, and always damp and cool. No habitation occurs within
several miles and no cultivation, save the isolated provision grounds
of the negroes, which are teeming with enormous Arums: and these are
hidden from view far up in the thick woods.

The refreshing coolness of this road, its unbroken solitude, combined
with the peculiarity and luxuriance of the vegetation, made it one of
my favorite resorts. Not a tree, from the thickness of one’s wrist
up to the giant magnitude of the hoary figs and cotton trees, but
is clothed with fantastic parasites: begonias with waxen flowers,
and ferns with hirsute stems climb up the trunks; enormous bromelias
spring from the greater forks, and fringe the horizontal limbs; various
orchideæ with matted roots and grotesque blossoms droop from every
bough, and long lianes, like the cordage of a ship, depend from the
loftiest branches, or stretch from tree to tree. Elegant tree-ferns,
and towering palms are numerous; here and there the wild plantain or
heliconia waves its long flag-like leaves from amidst the humbler
bushes, and in the most obscure corners over some decaying log, nods
the noble spike of a magnificent limodorum. Nothing is flaunting or
showy; all is solemn and subdued; but all is exquisitely beautiful.
Now and then the ear is startled by the long-drawn measured notes,
most richly sweet, of the Solitaire, itself mysteriously unseen, like
the hymn of praise of an angel. It is so in keeping with the solitude,
and with the scene, that we are unconsciously arrested to admire and
listen. The smaller wood consists largely of the plant called Glass-eye
berry, a Scrophularious shrub, the blossoms of which, though presenting
little beauty in form or hue, are pre-eminently attractive to the
Long-tailed Humming-bird. These bushes are at no part of the year out
of blossom, the scarlet berries appearing at all seasons on the same
stalk as the flowers. And here at any time one may with tolerable
certainty calculate on finding these very lovely birds. But it is in
March, April, and May, that they abound: I suppose I have sometimes
seen not fewer than a hundred come successively to rifle the blossoms
within the space of half as many yards in the course of a forenoon.
They are, however, in no respect gregarious; though three or four may
be at one moment hovering round the blossoms of the same bush, there
is no association; each is governed by his individual preference, and
each attends to his own affairs. It is worthy of remark that males
compose by far the greater portion of the individuals observed at
this elevation. I do not know why it should be so, but we see very
few females there, whereas in the lowlands this sex outnumbers the
other. In March, a large number are found to be clad in the livery
of the adult male, but without long tail-feathers; others have the
characteristic feathers lengthened, but in various degrees. These are,
I have no doubt, males of the preceding season. It is also quite common
to find one of the long feathers much shorter than the other; which I
account for by concluding that the shorter is replacing one that had
been accidentally lost. In their aerial encounters with each other, a
tail-feather is sometimes displaced. One day several of these “young
bloods” being together, a regular tumult ensued, somewhat similar to a
_sparrow-fight_:—such twittering, and fluttering, and dartings hither
and thither! I could not exactly make out the matter, but suspected
that it was mainly an attack, (surely a most ungallant one, if so) made
by these upon two females of the same species, that were sucking at the
same bush. These were certainly in the skirmish, but the evolutions
were too rapid to be certain how the battle went.

The whirring made by the vibrating wings of the male Polytmus is a
shriller sound than that produced by the female, and indicates its
proximity before the eye has detected it. The male almost constantly
utters a monotonous quick chirp, both while resting on a twig, and
while sucking from flower to flower. They do not invariably probe
flowers upon the wing; one may frequently observe them thus engaged,
when alighted and sitting with closed wings, and often they partially
sustain themselves by clinging with the feet to a leaf while sucking,
the wings being expanded, and vibrating.

The Humming-birds in Jamaica do not confine themselves to any
particular season for nidification. In almost every month of the year
I have either found, or have had brought to me, the nests of Polytmus
in occupation. Still as far as my experience goes, they are most
numerous in June; while Mr. Hill considers January as the most normal
period. It is not improbable that two broods are reared in a season.
In the latter part of February, a friend showed me a nest of this
species in a singular situation, but which I afterwards found to be
quite in accordance with its usual habits. It was at Bognie, situated
on the Bluefields mountain, but at some distance from the scene above
described. About a quarter of a mile within the woods, a blind path,
choked up with bushes, descends suddenly beneath an overhanging rock of
limestone, the face of which presents large projections, and hanging
points, encrusted with a rough, tuberculous sort of stalactite. At one
corner of the bottom there is a cavern, in which a tub is fixed to
receive water of great purity, which perpetually drips from the roof,
and which in the dry season is a most valuable resource. Beyond this,
which is very obscure, the eye penetrates to a larger area, deeper
still, which receives light from some other communication with the air.
Round the projections and groins of the front, the roots of the trees
above have entwined, and to a fibre of one of these hanging down, not
thicker than whipcord, was suspended a Humming-bird’s nest, containing
two eggs. It seemed to be composed wholly of moss, was thick, and
attached to the rootlet by its side. One of the eggs was broken. I
did not disturb it, but after about three weeks, visited it again. It
had been apparently handled by some curious child, for both eggs were
broken, and the nest was evidently deserted.

But while I lingered in the romantic place, picking up some of the
landshells which were scattered among the rocks, suddenly I heard
the whirr of a Humming-bird, and, looking up, saw a female Polytmus
hovering opposite the nest, with a mass of silk-cotton in her beak.
Deterred by the sight of me, she presently retired to a twig, a few
paces distant, on which she sat. I immediately sunk down among the
rocks as quietly as possible, and remained perfectly still. In a few
seconds she came again, and after hovering a moment disappeared behind
one of the projections, whence in a few seconds she emerged again and
flew off. I then examined the place, and found to my delight, a new
nest, in all respects like the old one, but unfinished, affixed to
another twig not a yard from it. I again sat down among the stones in
front, where I could see the nest, not concealing myself, but remaining
motionless, waiting for the petite bird’s reappearance. I had not to
wait long: a loud _whirr_, and there she was, suspended in the air
before her nest: she soon espied me, and came within a foot of my
eyes, hovering just in front of my face. I remained still, however,
when I heard the whirring of another just above me, perhaps the mate,
but I durst not look towards him lest the turning of my head should
frighten the female. In a minute or two the other was gone, and she
alighted again on the twig, where she sat some little time preening her
feathers, and apparently clearing her mouth from the cotton-fibres,
for she now and then swiftly projected the tongue an inch and a half
from the beak, continuing the same curve as that of the beak. When she
arose, it was to perform a very interesting action; for she flew to the
face of the rock, which was thickly clothed with soft dry moss, and
hovering on the wing, as if before a flower, began to pluck the moss,
until she had a large bunch of it in her beak; then I saw her fly to
the nest, and _having seated herself in it_, proceed to place the new
material, pressing, and arranging, and interweaving the whole with her
beak, while she fashioned the cup-like form of the interior, by the
pressure of her white breast, moving round and round as she sat. My
presence appeared to be no hindrance to her proceedings, though only
a few feet distant; at length she left again, and I left the place
also. On the 8th of April I visited the cave again, and found the nest
perfected, and containing two eggs, which were not hatched on the 1st
of May, on which day I sent Sam to endeavour to secure both dam and
nest. He found her sitting, and had no difficulty in capturing her,
which, with the nest and its contents, he carefully brought down to me.
I transferred it, having broken one egg by accident, to a cage, and put
in the bird; she was mopish, however, and quite neglected the nest, as
she did also some flowers which I inserted; sitting moodily on a perch.
The next morning she was dead.

On the 7th of May, a lad showed me another nest of the same species,
containing two young newly hatched. It was stuck on a twig of a seaside
grape tree, (_Coccoloba_), about fifteen feet above the ground, almost
above the sea, for the tree grew at the very edge of the shore, and the
branches really did stretch over the sea. The bird was wary, and would
not return to the nest while I staid there, or Sam, whom I stationed
in the tree to catch her; but on our receding a few minutes, we found
her on the nest. Sam watched sometime vainly with the insect-net;
but as I thought, if I could secure her in a cage with her nest, the
claims of her young would probably awaken her attention more than the
mere unhatched eggs had done the former one, we proceeded to the tree
at night with a lantern. The noise and shaking of the tree, however,
had again alarmed her, (at least so we concluded,) for she was not
on the nest when reached. The next morning Sam had occasion to pass
twice by the grape-tree, but at neither time was the bird on the nest.
Still suspecting nothing, we went after breakfast, to set a noose
of horse-hair on the nest, a common artifice of the negro boys, to
capture small birds when sitting. On mounting to set it, however, Sam
discovered that the nest was quite empty, no trace of the unfledged
young being left. It is probable that the bird, annoyed at being
watched, had removed them in her beak, a thing not without precedent.
Sam assured me, that if a Bald-pate Pigeon be sitting on a nest
containing young, and be alarmed by a person climbing the tree, so as
to be driven from the nest, twice in succession, you may look for the
young the next day, in vain.

In June I found a nest of the same species on a shrub or young tree
in the Cotta-wood. It contained one egg; I looked at it, and went a
little way farther. In a few minutes I returned; the bird was sitting,
the head and tail oddly projecting from the nest, as usual. I hoped to
approach without alarming it, but its eye was upon me, and when I was
within three or four yards, it flew. I looked into the nest, but _there
was no egg_: on search, I found it on the ground beneath, much cracked,
but not crushed. How could it have come there? The bush, to the main
stem of which it was attached, was too strong for the rising of the
bird to have jerked it out; beside which, such result was not likely
to happen from an action taking place many times every day. It must, I
think, have been taken out by the bird. I replaced the cracked egg, and
a day or two afterwards, visited it again: the nest was again empty,
and evidently deserted.

On the 12th of November, we took, in Bluefields morass, the nest of a
Polytmus, containing two eggs, one of which had the chick considerably
advanced, the other was freshly laid. The nest was placed on a hanging
twig of a black-mangrove tree, the twig passing perpendicularly through
the side, and out at the bottom. It is now before me. It is a very
compact cup, 1³⁄₄ inch deep without, and 1 inch deep within; the sides
about ¹⁄₄ inch thick, the inner margin a little overarching, so as to
narrow the opening: the total diameter at top, 1¹⁄₂ inch; 1 inch in
the clear. It is mainly composed of silk-cotton very closely pressed,
mixed with the still more glossy cotton of an _asclepias_, particularly
around the edge; the seed remaining attached to some of the filaments.
On the outside the whole structure is quite covered with spiders’
web, crossed and recrossed in every direction, and made to adhere by
some viscous substance, evidently applied after the web was placed,
probably saliva. Little bits of pale-green lichen, and fragments of
thin laminated bark, are stuck here and there on the outside, by means
of the webs having been passed over them. The eggs are long-oval, pure
white, save that when fresh, the contents produce a reddish tinge, from
the thinness of the shell. Their long diameter ⁷⁄₁₂ inch; short ⁴⁄₁₂.
The above may be considered a standard sample of the form, dimensions,
and materials of the nest of this species. Variations, however, often
occur from local causes. Thus, in the one from Bognie cave, only
moss is used, and the base is produced to a lengthened point; one of
exceeding beauty now before me, is composed wholly of pure silk-cotton,
bound profusely with the finest web, undistinguishable except on close
examination; not a fragment of lichen mars the beautiful uniformity
of its appearance. Others are studded all over with the lichens, and
these, too, have a peculiar rustic prettiness. The situations chosen
for nidification, as will have been perceived, are very various.

I have attempted to rear the young from the nest by hand, but without
complete success. A young friend found a nest in June, on a twig of
a wild coffee-tree, (_Tetramerium odoratissimum_,) which contained
a young bird. He took it, and fed it with sugar and water for some
days, but when it was full fledged, and almost ready to leave the
nest, it died and was partially eaten by ants. It was, however, a
male, and formed an important link in the evidence by which I at
length discovered the specific identity of the female. Latham, it is
true, long ago describes it conjecturally as the female of Polytmus;
but Lesson, in his “Ois. Mouches,” has treated the supposition as
groundless. I may observe that to satisfy myself I was in the habit
of dissecting my specimens, and invariably found, with one exception,
the green-breasted to be males, the white-breasted to be females.[24]
But to return. On the 20th of May of the present year (1846), Sam
brought me the nest of a Polytmus, which had been affixed to a twig
of sweet-wood (_Laurus_). It contained one young, unfledged, the
feathers just budding, I began to feed it with sugar dissolved in
water, presented in a quill, which it readily sucked many times
a-day. Occasionally I caught musquitoes, and other small insects, and
putting them into the syrup, gave them to the bird; these it seemed
to like, but particularly ants, which crowded into the sweet fluid
and overspread its surface. The quill would thus take up a dozen at
a time, which were sucked in by the little bird with much relish. It
throve manifestly, and the feathers grew apace, so that on the 29th,
after having been in my possession nine days, it was almost ready to
leave the nest. But on that day it died. Another I reared under similar
circumstances, and in a similar way, until it was actually fledged.
When nearly full grown, it would rear itself up, touching the nest
only with its feet, on tiptoe, as it were, and vibrate its wings as if
hovering in flight, for minutes together. At length it fairly took its
flight out at the window. Both these were females.

  [24] The exception is, that a specimen obtained on the 6th of May,
  in female livery, displayed on dissection two indubitable testes,
  in the ordinary situation.

The young male, when ready to leave the nest, has the throat and breast
metallic-green as above, the belly-feathers blackish, with large tips
of green; the tail black with green reflections, untipped. A male which
I obtained in May, and which I take to be the young of the preceding
winter, has the green on the head, mingled with black, the disks of
the feathers being green with a black border. The emerald green of the
breast is partial in its extent, reaching to the belly only in isolated
feathers, separated by large spaces of brownish-drab; while on the
throat and breast, the feathers have merely large round disks of the
emerald-colour, with narrow edges of brown.

The tongue of this species, (and doubtless others have a similar
conformation,) presents, when recent, the appearance of two tubes
laid side by side, united for half their length, but separate for the
remainder. Their substance is transparent in the same degree as a good
quill, which they much resemble: each tube is formed by a lamina rolled
up, yet not so as to bring the edges into actual contact, for there
is a longitudinal fissure on the outer side, running up considerably
higher than the junction of the tubes; into this fissure the point of
a pin may be inserted and moved up and down the length. Near the tip
the _outer_ edge of each lamina ceases to be convoluted, but is spread
out, and split at the margin into irregular fimbriæ, which point
backward, somewhat like the vane of a feather; these are not barbs,
however, but simply soft and flexible points, such as might be produced
by snipping diagonally the edge of a strip of paper. I conjecture
that the nectar of flowers is pumped up the tubes, and that minute
insects are caught, when in flowers, in these spoon-like tips, their
minute limbs being perhaps entangled in the fimbriæ, when the tongue
is retracted into the beak, and the insects swallowed by the ordinary
process, as doubtless those are which are captured with the beak in
flight. I do not thoroughly understand the mode by which liquids are
taken up by a Humming-bird’s tongue, though I have carefully watched
the process. If syrup be presented to one in a quill, the tongue is
protruded for about half an inch into the liquor, the beak resting
in the pen, as it is held horizontal: there is a slight but rapid
and constant projection and retraction of the tubes, and the liquor
disappears very fast, perhaps by capillary attraction, perhaps by a
sort of pumping, certainly not by licking.

All the Humming-birds have more or less the habit when in flight of
pausing in the air, and throwing the body and tail into rapid and odd
contortions; this seems to be most the case with Mango, but perhaps
is more observable in Polytmus from the effect that such motions have
on the beautiful long feathers of the tail. That the object of these
quick turns is the capture of insects I am sure, having watched one
thus engaged pretty close to me; I drew up and observed it carefully,
and distinctly saw the minute flies in the air, which it pursued and
caught, and heard repeatedly the snapping of the beak. My presence
scarcely disturbed it, if at all.

The neck in these birds is very long; but appears short, because it
forms a sigmoid curve downward, which is concealed by the feathers
of the breast: the trachea is therefore long, and its appearance is
singular, because the dilatation from which the bronchi divide, is near
the middle of the whole length, the bronchi being full half an inch in
length; they run down side by side, however, and are in fact soldered
together for about half of their length: though the tubes are still
distinct, as appears by a transverse section. Our two other species I
have proved to have the same conformation.

When I left England, I had laid myself out for the attempt to bring
these radiant creatures alive to this country: and after a little
acquaintance with the Jamaican species, Polytmus seemed, from its
beauty, its abundance, its size, its docility, and its mountain
habitat, to be the species at once most likely to succeed, and most
worthy of the effort. My expectations were disappointed: yet as the
efforts themselves made me more familiar with their habits, the reader,
I trust, will pardon some prolixity of detail in the narration of these
attempts. Very many were caught by myself and my lads: the narrow path
on Bluefields peak already mentioned, was the locality to which we
resorted on these expeditions. A common gauze butterfly-net, on a ring
of a foot in diameter and a staff of three or four feet, we found the
most effective means of capture. The elaborate traps recommended by
some authors, I fear would suit the natural history of the closet,
better than that of the woods. We often found the curiosity of these
little birds stronger than their fear; on holding up the net near one,
he frequently would not fly away, but come and hover over the mouth,
stretching out his neck to peep in, so that we could capture them
with little difficulty. Often too, one when struck at unsuccessfully,
would return immediately, and suspend itself in the air just above
our heads, or peep into our faces, with unconquerable familiarity.
Yet it was difficult to bring these sweet birds, so easily captured,
home; they were usually dead or dying when we arrived at the house,
though not wounded or struck. And those which did arrive in apparent
health, usually died the next day. At my first attempt in the spring
of 1845, I transferred such as I succeeded in bringing alive, to cages
immediately on their arrival at the house, and though they did not beat
themselves, they soon sunk under the confinement. Suddenly they would
fall to the floor of the cage, and lie motionless with closed eyes;
if taken into the hand, they would perhaps seem to revive for a few
moments; then throw back the pretty head, or toss it to and fro as if
in great suffering, expand the wings, open the eyes, slightly puff up
the feathers of the breast, and die: usually without any convulsive
struggle. This was the fate of my first attempts.

In the autumn, however, they began to be numerous again upon the
mountain, and having, on the 13th of November, captured two young males
sucking the pretty pink flowers of _Urena lobata_, I brought them home
in a covered basket. The tail-feathers of the one were undeveloped,
those of the other half their full length. I did not cage them but
turned them out into the open room in which the daily work of preparing
specimens was carried on, having first secured the doors and windows.
They were lively, but not wild; playful towards each other, and tame
with respect to myself, sitting unrestrained for several seconds at a
time on my finger. I collected a few flowers and placed them in a vase
on a high shelf, and to these they resorted immediately. But I soon
found that they paid attention to none but _Asclepias curassavica,_ and
slightly to a large _Ipomea_. On this I again went out, and gathered
a large bunch of _Asclepias_, and was pleased to observe that on the
moment of my entering the room, one flew to the nosegay, and sucked
while I held it in my hand. The other soon followed, and then both
these lovely creatures were buzzing together within an inch of my
face, probing the flowers so eagerly, as to allow their bodies to be
touched without alarm. These flowers being placed in another glass,
they visited each bouquet in turn, now and then flying after each
other playfully through the room, or alighting on various objects.
Though occasionally they flew against the window, they did not flutter
and beat themselves at it, but seemed well content with their parole.
As they flew, I repeatedly heard them snap the beak, at which times,
they doubtless caught minute flies. After some time, one of them
suddenly sunk down in one corner, and on being taken up seemed dying:
it had perhaps struck itself in flying. It lingered awhile, and died.
The other continued his vivacity; perceiving that he had exhausted
the flowers, I prepared a tube, made of the barrel of a goose-quill,
which I inserted into the cork of a bottle to secure its steadiness
and upright position, and filled with juice of sugar-cane. I then
took a large _Ipomea_, and having cut off the bottom, I slipped the
flower over the tube, so that the quill took the place of the nectary
of the flower. The bird flew to it in a moment, clung to the bottle
rim, and bringing his beak perpendicular, thrust it into the tube. It
was at once evident that the repast was agreeable, for he continued
pumping for several seconds, and on his flying off, I found the quill
emptied. As he had torn off the flower in his eagerness for more, and
even followed the fragments of the corolla, as they lay on the table,
to search them, I refilled the quill and put a blossom of the Marvel
of Peru into it, so that the flower expanded over the top. The little
toper found it again, and after drinking freely, withdrew his beak,
but the blossom was adhering to it as a sheath. This incumbrance he
presently got rid of, and then, (which was most interesting to me,)
he returned immediately, and inserting his beak into the bare quill,
finished the contents. It was amusing to see the odd position of
his head and body as he clung to the bottle, with his beak inserted
perpendicularly into the cork. Several times, in the course of the
evening, he had recourse to his new fountain, which was as often
replenished for him, and at length about sunset betook himself to a
line stretched across the room, for repose. He slept, as they all do,
with the head not behind the wing, but slightly drawn back on the
shoulders, and in figure reminded me of Mr. Gould’s beautiful plate of
_Trogon resplendens_, in miniature. In the morning, I found him active
before sunrise, already having visited his quill of syrup, which he
emptied a second time. After some hours, he flew through a door which I
had incautiously left open, and darting through the window of the next
room, escaped, to my no small chagrin.

Three males, captured on Bluefields peak on the 22nd of April, were
brought home alive. They at once became familiar on being turned into
the room, and one, the boldest, found out immediately a glass of
sugar-syrup, and sipped repeatedly at it. One of them disappeared in
the course of the next day, doubtless by falling into some obscure
corner behind the furniture. The others, however, appeared quite at
home, and one soon became so familiar, even before I had had him a
day, as to fly to my face, and perching on my lip or chin, thrust his
beak into my mouth, and suck up the moisture. He grew so bold, and
so frequent in his visits, as at length to become almost annoying;
and so pertinacious as to thrust his protruded tongue into all parts
of my mouth, searching between the gum and cheek, beneath the tongue,
&c. Occasionally, I gratified him by taking into my mouth a little of
the syrup, and inviting him by a slight sound, which he learned to
understand; and this appeared to please his palate. Bouquets of fresh
flowers they did not appear much to regard; but one or two species of
_Lantana_ seemed more attractive than the rest. I expected that the
honeyed and fragrant bunches of blossom of the _Moringa_, which on
the tree is perpetually visited by them, would tempt my captives, but
after a brief trial, they disregarded them. Perhaps it was because they
could sate their appetite more freely and fully at the syrup glass,
which they frequently visited, but only sipped. They always clung to
the glass with their feet, and very often to the flowers also. Each
selected his own places of perching; there were lines stretched across
the room, for drying bird-skins; and from the first each took a place
on one of the lines, distant from the other, where he then invariably
roosted, and rested. Each selected also one or two other stations for
temporary alighting, but each adhered to his own, without invading his
neighbour’s. So strong was this predilection, that on my driving one
away from his spot, he would flutter round the room, but return and try
to alight there again, and if still prevented, would hover round the
place, as if much distressed. This preference of a particular twig for
alighting is observable in freedom, and will suggest an analogy with
the Flycatchers. I have not observed it in our other species. It gave
us a means of capturing many, in addition to the net; for by observing
a spot of resort, and putting a little birdlime on that twig, we could
be pretty sure of a bird in a few minutes. The boldest was rather
pugnacious, occasionally attacking his gentler and more confiding
companion, who always yielded and fled; when the assailant would perch
and utter a succession of shrill chirps, “_screep, screep, screep_.”
After a day or two, however, the persecuted one plucked up courage,
and actually played the tyrant in his turn, interdicting his fellow
from sipping at the sweetened cup. Twenty times in succession would
the thirsty bird drop down upon the wing to the glass,—which stood at
the edge of a table immediately beneath that part of the line, where
both at length were wont to perch,—but no sooner was he poised in front
and about to insert his tongue, than the other would dart down with
inconceivable swiftness, and wheeling so as to come up beneath him,
would drive him away from his repast. He might fly to any other part of
the room unmolested, but an approach to the cup was the signal for an
instant assault. The ill-natured fellow himself drank long and frequent
draughts. I noticed that no sooner had this individual recovered his
boldness than he recovered his voice also, and both would _screep_
pertinaciously and shrilly, almost without intermission. When they
were accustomed to the room, their vivacity was extreme, manifested in
their upright posture, and quick turns and glances when sitting, which
caused their lovely breasts to flash out from darkness into sudden
lustrous light like rich gems;—and no less by their dartings hither and
thither, their most graceful wheelings and evolutions in the air; so
rapid that the eye was frequently baffled in attempting to follow their
motions. Suddenly we lose the radiant little meteor in one corner, and
as quickly hear the vibration of his invisible wings in another behind
us: or find him hovering in front of our face, without having seen, in
the least, how he came there. It is worthy of observation that Polytmus
in flying upward, keeps the feathers of the tail closed, but in
descending they are expanded to the utmost, at which time the two long
feathers, quivering with the rapidity of their motion, like a streamer
in a gale, form about a right angle. I cannot tell why there should be
this difference, but I believe it is invariable.

From that time to the end of May, I obtained about twenty-five more,
nearly all males, and with one or two exceptions captured on the
Bluefields ridge. Some were taken with the net, others with bird-lime;
but though transferred to a basket or to a cage immediately on capture,
not a few were found dead on arrival at home. This sudden death I could
not at all account for: they did not beat themselves against the sides,
though they frequently clung to them: from the wild look of several
that were alive when arrived, sitting on the bottom of the cage,
looking upwards, I suspect terror, at their capture and novel position,
had no small influence. Many of those which were found alive, were
in a dying state, and of those which were turned out into the room,
several more died in the first twenty-four hours; generally, because,
not observing the lines which the domesticated ones used as perches,
they would fly against the perpendicular walls, where, after fluttering
awhile suspended, they would at length sink, exhausted, perpendicularly
downwards, the wings still vibrating, and alight on the object that
intercepted their downward course. If this was the floor, they would
presently rise on the wing, only again to flutter against the wall as
before; but often it would happen that they would sink behind some of
the many boxes with which the shelves were lumbered; in which case
the space being too narrow for the use of their wings, they soon died
unobserved, and were found dead only upon searching. This was the fate
of many; so that out of the twenty-five, only seven were domesticated.
These, however, became quite at home; and I may here observe that there
was much difference in the tempers of individuals; some being moody
and sulky, others very timid, and others gentle and confiding from the
first. I have noticed this in other birds also; Doves, for instance,
which manifest individuality of character, perhaps as much as men, if
we were competent to appreciate it. My ordinary plan of accustoming
them to the room, and teaching them to feed, was very simple. On
opening the basket in which one or more newly-caught Humming-birds were
brought home, they would fly out, and commonly soar to the ceiling,
rarely seeking the window; there for awhile, or against the walls,
as above mentioned, they would flutter, not beating themselves, but
hanging on rapidly vibrating wings, lightly touching the plaster with
the beak or breast, every second, and thus slightly rebounding. By
keeping a strict watch on them while so occupied, we could observe
when they became exhausted, and sunk rapidly down to alight; commonly,
they would then suffer themselves to be raised, by passing the finger
under the breast, to which they would apply their little feet. Having
thus raised one on my finger, and taken a little sugar into my mouth,
I inserted its beak between my lips. Sometimes it would at once begin
to suck eagerly; but at other times it was needful to invite it thus
many times, before it would notice the sugar: by persevering, however,
they commonly learned. And when one had once fed from the mouth, it was
always ready to suck afterwards, and frequently, as above narrated,
voluntarily sought my lips. Having given one his first lesson, I
gently presented him to the line, and drawing my finger from under
him, he would commonly take to it, but if not, the proceeding had to
be repeated: and even when perched, the repetition of the feeding and
placing on the line was needful to induce the habit. If the bird’s
temper were kindly, it soon began to perch on the line of its own
accord; when I ceased to feed it from my lips, presenting to it,
instead, the glass of syrup. After it had sucked thus a time or two,
it found it as it stood at the edge of a table; and I considered it
domesticated. Its time was now spent in incessant short flights about
the room, alternating with momentary rests on the line; often darting
to another on the wing, when the most rapid and beautiful evolutions
would take place, in which the long tail-feathers whisked about in a
singular manner. I believe these rencontres were all amicable, for
they never appeared to come into actual contact, nor to suffer any
inconvenience from them. After close observation to ascertain the fact,
I was fully convinced that the object of their incessant sallies on
the wing was the capture of minute insects; so minute that they were
generally undistinguishable to the human eye. Yet the action of the
bird shewed that something was pursued and taken, and though from the
extreme rapidity of their motions, I could not often see the capture,
yet several times I did detect the snap of the beak, and once or twice
witnessed the taking of some little fly, just large enough to be
discerned in the air. Moreover, the flights were sometimes very short;
a leap out upon the wing to the distance of a foot or two, and then a
return to the perch, just as the true Fly-catchers do; which indeed the
Humming-birds are, to all intents and purposes, and most accomplished
ones. I judge, that, on a low estimate, each captured on the wing
at least three insects per minute, and that, with few intervals,
incessantly, from dawn to dusk. Abroad I do not think quite so many
would be taken in the air, the more normal way being, I presume, the
securing of the minute creatures that inhabit the tubes of flowers;
yet we perpetually see them hawking even at liberty. My captives would
occasionally fly to the walls, and pick from the spiders’ webs, with
which they were draped. When they rested, they sat in nearly an upright
posture, the head usually thrown a little back, and the crimson beak
pointing at a small angle above the horizon, the feet almost hidden,
the belly being brought into contact with the perch, the tail somewhat
thrown in under the body, and the long feathers crossing each other
near their middle. Their ordinary mode of coming down to drink was
curious. I have said that their little reservoir of syrup was placed
at the edge of a table, about two feet beneath them. Instead of flying
down soberly in a direct line, which would have been far too dull for
the volatile genius of a Humming-bird, they invariably made a dozen
or twenty distinct stages of it, each in a curve descending a little,
and ascending nearly to the same plane, and hovering a second or two
at every angle; and sometimes when they arrived opposite the cup more
quickly than usual, as if they considered it reached too soon, they
would make half a dozen more horizontal traverses before they would
bring their tiny feet to the edge of the glass and insert their sucking
tongue. They were very frequently sipping, though they did not take
much at a time; five birds about emptied a wine-glass per diem. Their
fæcal discharges were altogether fluid, and exactly resembled the
syrup which they imbibed. They were rather late in retiring to roost,
frequently hawking and sporting till dusk; and when settled for the
night, were restless, and easily disturbed. The entrance of a person
with a candle, at any hour, was liable to set one or two upon the wing;
and this was always a matter of regret with me, because of the terror
which they seemed to feel, incapacitating them from again finding the
perching line. On such occasions they would again flutter against the
walls, and sink down, as when first captured, with the same danger of
accident, if not closely watched, and picked up when exhausted. After
having inhabited my specimen-room for some time, (those, first caught
almost four weeks,) I transferred them, five in number, all males, to a
large cage with a wired front, and two transverse perches; I had much
dreaded this change, and therefore did it in the evening, hoping that
the intervening night would calm them. I had in some measure prepared
them for the change by placing the cage (before the front was affixed)
upon the table some days previously, and setting their syrup-cup
first close to the cage, then a little within, then a little farther,
until at length it stood at the remotest corner. And I was pleased to
observe that the birds followed the cup every day, flying in and out
of the cage to sip, though at first very shyly and suspiciously, many
times flying in and suddenly darting out without tasting the fluid.
After I had shut them in, they beat and fluttered a good deal; but by
the next day I was gratified to find that all had taken their places
quietly on the perches, and sipped at the syrup, though rather less
than usual. I had now high hopes of bringing them alive to England,
thinking the most difficult task was over; especially as within a day
or two after, I added to them two more males, one of which presently
learned both to perch and to find the cup, and also a female. The
latter interested me much, for on the next day after her introduction,
I noticed that she had seated herself by a long-tailed male, on a perch
occupied only by them two, and was evidently courting his caresses. She
would hop sideways along the perch by a series of little quick jumps,
till she reached him, when she would gently peck his face, and then
recede, hopping and shivering her wings, and presently approach again
to perform the same actions. Now and then she would fly over him, and
make as if she were about to perch on his back, and practise other
little endearments; to which, however, I am sorry to say, he seemed
most ungallantly indifferent, being, in fact, the dullest of the whole
group. I expected to have them nidificate in the cage, and therefore
affixed a very inviting twig of lime-tree to the cage wall, and threw
in plenty of cotton, and perhaps should have succeeded, but for the
carelessness of my servant. For he having incautiously left open the
cage door, the female flew out and effected her escape.

But all my hopes of success were soon to be quashed; for after they
had been in cage but a week, they began to die, sometimes two in a
day; and in another week, but a solitary individual was left, which
soon followed the others. I vainly endeavoured to replace them, by
sending to the mountain; for where the species was so numerous two
months before, they were now (beginning of June) scarcely to be seen
at all. The cause of the death of my caged captives, I conjecture to
have been the want of insect food; that, notwithstanding their frequent
sipping at the syrup, they were really starved to death. I was led to
this conclusion, by having found, on dissecting those which died, that
they were excessively meagre in flesh, and that the stomach, which
ordinarily is as large as a pea, and distended with insects, was,
in these, shrunken to a minute collapsed membrane, with difficulty
distinguished. If I had an opportunity of trying the experiment
again, with the advantage of this experience, I would proceed rather
differently. I would have a very capacious cage, wired _on every side_,
in the bottom of which a supply of decaying fruit, such as oranges
or pines, should be constantly kept, but covered with wire that the
birds might not defile their plumage. This, as I have proved, would
attract immense numbers of minute flies, which, flitting to and fro
in the cage, would probably afford sufficient sustenance to the birds
in conjunction with the syrup. The birds, however, should be caged as
short a time as possible before sailing, which might be early in May;
and by a steamer, which calling at St. Thomas, Bermuda, and the Azores,
large bunches of fresh flowers, and even herbage, might be obtained at
short intervals on the voyage, with which, of course, a multitude of
insects would be introduced. Thus, I still think, these lovely birds
might be introduced into our conservatories and stoves, where there
would be no difficulty in preserving them. Mr. Yarrell has suggested to
me, that possibly young ones fed from the nest upon syrup alone, might
be able to live without insect food.


                       VERVAIN HUMMING-BIRD.[25]

                      _Mellisuga humilis._—+Mihi.+

          _Ornismya minima_,          +Less.+ Ois. M. 79. (nec auct.)

  [25] Male. Length 2⁷⁄₁₀ inches, expanse 3¹⁄₂, flexure 1¹⁄₂, rictus
  ⁵⁄₁₀, (nearly,) tail ⁸⁄₁₀, tarsus rather above ¹⁄₁₀, middle toe
  ¹⁄₁₀, claw ¹⁄₁₀.

  Irides, beak, and feet black. Whole upper parts metallic-green;
  wings purplish-black; tail deep-black; chin and throat, white
  speckled with black; breast white; sides metallic-green; belly
  whitish, each feather tipped with green; vent white; under
  tail-coverts white, tipped faintly with green.

  Female. Rather less; of a yellower green above, which descends
  half-way down upon the tail. Whole under parts pure white,
  unspotted, untinged with green; tail-feathers, except the
  uropygials, tipped with white.

  Intestine 1⁹⁄₁₀ inch: no cæca.

That this is the species of which M. Lesson has figured the female
in his Oiseaux Mouches, pl. 79, there can be no doubt. His figure is
a very fair representation; though it is too slender, and the white
mark behind the eye I cannot find: this, however, I do not wonder
at, if, as is most probable, his figure was taken from a dried
specimen. He says, “it is beyond contradiction the smallest of all
those yet known, and without doubt is the ‘very little Humming-bird’
of voyagers. Its length is 2 inches and 4 lines.” But that it is the
_Trochilus minimus_ of Linnæus, Buffon, Edwards, and Latham, who can
imagine, that puts any faith in testimony? Edwards’ figure, which
is said to be “of its natural bigness,” measures 1⁴⁄₁₀ inch; that
in the Pl. Enl. 276. fig. 1, is about 1³⁄₁₀; and Latham, who says
expressly, “_I have received_ this from Jamaica,” gives its total
length 1¹⁄₄ inch, and that of its beak, 3¹⁄₂ lines. It is true the
description as to colouring, &c., bears a very close resemblance to
mine, but no one accustomed to the precision of science could mistake
2¹⁄₂ inches for 1¹⁄₄![26] Neither is it possible that these minute
specimens can be the _young_ of the present species; for nestling
Humming-birds, even when not half-fledged, are very little less in
size than the adult, and, when able to leave the nest, are scarcely
to be distinguished as to dimensions. Moreover, having reared this
species I can speak positively. But Mr. Bullock records having obtained
in Jamaica a species whose body was but half an inch in length; this
specimen is understood to have become the possession of the late
George Loddiges, Esq., and I have been assured by an ornithological
friend, who has seen it, that it is no larger than the species of
the old naturalists. Under these considerations, Lesson’s name being
manifestly misapplied, I have ventured to give to the present species,
a new appellation, derived from its habit of buzzing over the low
herbaceous plants of pastures, which our other species do not. The
West Indian vervain (_Stachytarpheta_) is one of the most common weeds
in neglected pastures, shooting up everywhere its slender columns,
set round with blue flowers, to the height of a foot. About these our
little Humming-bird is abundant during the summer months, probing the
azure blossoms a few inches from the ground. It visits the spikes in
succession, flitting from one to another, exactly in the manner of the
honey-bee, and with the same business-like industry and application.
In the winter, the abundance of other flowers and the paucity of
vervain-blossoms, induce its attentions to the hedgerows and woods.

  [26] Yet Sloane describes his “Least Humming-bird,” (Jam. 308) as
  “about 1¹⁄₄ inch long, from the end of the bill to that of the
  tail,” while of his figure the bill alone measures ³⁄₄ inch, and
  the whole bird 2⁵⁄₈. As the worthy Doctor, however, is said to
  have taken his admeasurements with his _thumb-nail_, this slight
  variation is the less surprising.

I have sometimes watched, with much delight, the evolutions of this
little species at the moringa tree already spoken of. When only one is
present, he pursues the round of the blossoms soberly enough, sucking
as he goes, and now and anon sitting quietly on a twig. But if two are
about the tree, one will fly off, and, suspending himself in the air
a few yards distant, the other presently shoots off to him, and then,
without touching each other, they mount upward with a strong rushing
of wings, perhaps for five hundred feet. Then they separate, and
each shoots diagonally towards the ground, like a ball from a rifle,
and wheeling round, comes up to the blossoms again, and sucks, and
sucks, as if it had not moved away at all. Frequently one alone will
mount in this manner, or dart on invisible wing diagonally upward,
looking exactly like a humble-bee. Indeed, the figure of the smaller
Humming-birds on the wing, their rapidity, their arrowy course, and
their whole manner of flight, are entirely those of an insect; and one
who has watched the flight of a large beetle or bee, will have a very
good idea of the form of one of these tropic gems, painted against
the sky. I have observed all our three species at one time engaged in
sucking the blossoms of the moringa at Content; and have noticed that
whereas Polytmus and Mango expand and depress the tail, when hovering
before flowers, Humilis, on the contrary, for the most part, _erects_
the tail; but not invariably.

The present is the only Humming-bird that I am acquainted with, that
has a real song. Soon after sunrise in the spring months, it is fond
of sitting on the topmost twig of some mango or orange tree, where it
warbles, in a very weak but very sweet tone, a continuous melody, for
ten minutes at a time: it has little variety. The others have only a
pertinacious chirping.

The season of nidification seems to be as protracted in this, as in
the former species; nor does the structure itself differ, except in
being of about half the size. The small bushes of _Lantana_, so common
by roadsides, and always covered with orange and yellow blossom, are
favourite situations for the domestic economy of this minim bird. The
smooth twigs of the bamboo also are not unfrequently chosen. It is
not an uncommon thing in Jamaica, for a road up a mountain to be cut
in zig-zag terraces to diminish the steepness; and, to prevent the
lower side of such a road from crumbling away, stems of green bamboo
are cut and laid in a shallow trench along the edge. Shoots spring from
every joint, and presently a close row of living palisades are growing
along the margin of the road, whose roots, as they spread, effectually
bind together the mountain-side, and make the terrace perpetual;
while, as they increase in height and thickness, they throw their
gracefully-waving tufts over the way, like gigantic ostrich plumes,
affording most refreshing shadow from the heat. Such a _bamboo-walk_,
as it is called, winds up the steep side of Grand Vale mountain in
St. Elizabeth’s, and here the nests of the Vervain Humming-bird are
frequently met with.

One day in June, being up this road, I found two nests attached to
twigs of bamboo, and one just commenced. Two parallel twigs were
connected together by spiders’ webs, profusely but irregularly
stretched across, and these held a layer of silk-cotton, which just
filled up the space (about an inch square) between them. This was the
base. The others were complete cups of silk-cotton exceedingly compact
and neat, ornamented outside with bits of grey lichen, stuck about.
Usually the nest is placed on a joint of a bamboo branch, and the
diverging twigs are embraced by the base. The nest is about the size of
half a walnut-shell, if divided not lengthwise, but transversely. To
see the bird sitting in this tiny structure is amusing. The head and
tail are both excluded, the latter erect like a wren’s: and the bright
eyes glance in every direction. One of these contained two eggs, the
other a single young nearly fledged, which, with the nest, I carried to
Content to rear.

It is interesting to observe the cleanliness of animals; the dung of
young birds would greatly inconvenience them in the nest, and probably
cause disease; it is therefore wisely ordained that there should be
some mode of getting rid of it. Swallows carry out the excrement of
their young in their beaks; and this they are able to do, as at that
early season it is enclosed in a tenacious jelly. I observed with
admiration, and with adoration, of the tender mercy of God in directing
such minutiæ as these, for the comfort of His creatures, that this
little Humming-bird, while I was carrying it, elevating its body above
the edge of the nest, in the bottom of which it ordinarily lay, ejected
the alvine discharge in a forcible jet, to the distance of several feet.

This little nestling I attempted to rear, and had every prospect of
succeeding, for it eagerly received the juice of sugar-cane, which I
administered to it in a small quill, many times in the day, sometimes
adding small insects, as in a former case. But on the third day I was
necessitated to return to Bluefields, and rode fifteen miles with the
bird in my hand, enclosed in an open box. I took every care of it; but
whether from too long fasting, or from the shaking, or exposure to the
sun, I know not, but it was dying when I arrived, and a few minutes
put an end to its sufferings and my expectations.

Several times I have enclosed a nest of eggs in a gauzed cage, with
the dam, taken in the act of sitting; but in no case did she survive
twenty-four hours’ confinement, or take the slightest notice of her
nest. When engaged in the attempt to domesticate a colony of Polytmus,
an opportunity offered to add this minute species to my aviary. For at
that time two large tamarind-trees very near the house were in full
blossom, and round them the Vervain Humming-bird was swarming. I never
saw so many of this tribe at once; they flocked together, as Sam truly
observed, “like bees,” and the air resounded with their humming, as if
in the neighbourhood of a hive. We caught several with the net, but
could make nothing of them; they were indomitably timid. When turned
into the room, they shot away into the loftiest angle of the ceiling,
and there hovered motionless, or sometimes slowly turning as if on
a pivot, their wings all the time vibrating with such extraordinary
velocity as to be visible only as a semicircular film on each side. The
fact that the extent of the vibration reached 180°, (or so nearly that
it seemed to me such,) shews the immense power of the small muscles
by which the wings are put in motion. Neither of our other species
approaches either the rapidity or extent of this oscillation; and hence
with this bird alone does the sound produced by the vibration of the
wings acquire the sharpness of an insect’s hum. The noise produced by
the hovering of Polytmus is a whirring exactly like that of a wheel
put into rapid revolution by machinery; that of Humilis is a hum, like
that of a large bee.

The spirit of curiosity is manifested by this little bird as well as
by the larger species. When struck at, it will return in a moment,
and peep into the net, or hover just in front of one’s face. The
stories told of Humming-birds attacking men, and striking at the eyes
with their needle-like bills, originated, I have no doubt, in the
exaggeration of fear, misinterpreting this innocent curiosity.


                  +Fam.+—CERTHIADÆ.—(_The Creepers._)

                      BLACK AND WHITE CREEPER.[27]

                           _Mniotilta varia._

          _Motacilla varia_,          +Linn.+
          _Sylvia varia_,             +Lath.+
          _Certhia maculata_,         +Wils.+
          _Mniotilta varia_,          +Vieill.+
          _Certhia varia_,            Aud. pl. 90.

  [27] Length 5 inches, expanse 8¹⁄₂, flexure 2⁸⁄₁₀, tail 2, rictus
  ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀.

This pretty bird, whose lot has been to oscillate in the systems of
naturalists from the Warblers to the Creepers and from the Creepers
to the Warblers, appears to have as much ambiguity in its manners as
in its structure. One day I noticed it, and watched its proceedings,
in one of the spreading Black-withes, that form large tangled masses
of long slender branches over a clear space of mud in the morasses,
the topmost stratum of which alone is furnished with leaves, but that
dense enough, not only with its own foliage, but also with the drapery
of convolvulus that is usually hung in profusion over it. The little
bird was mounting from the bottom hopping from twig to twig, searching
and picking as it went up; when it reached the bushy top, it suddenly
descended, apparently by dropping perpendicularly to the bottom, where
it picked a little about the mud, then mounted gradually, and dropped
as before. After proceeding thus two or three times, I secured it.

At other times it affects the trunks of trees, even large ones, like a
true Creeper, hopping diagonally up the perpendicular bole, and when at
a good height, dropping down upon the wing, to alight again near the
root, and proceed upward in another line. Now and then it stops to pick
small insects from the crevices of the bark: and this sort of food I
have always found in its stomach.

It is rather common in Jamaica during the winter months: we first saw
it on the 26th of September, and last on the 30th of April.

The following interesting note accompanies a very correct drawing of
this species by Robinson (Birds: large Folio):—“Motacilla alba et nigra
varia.—It was pursued by a Hawk, and took sanctuary in Chateau-morant
House. Mr. Holladay, overseer at Chateau in Clarendon, made me a
present of the live bird, December 24th, 1760. It was very tame, and
so hungry that it picked some feathers out of a dead bird, and ate
them. It weighed somewhat less than two drachms.”


                   +Fam.+—TURDIDÆ.—(_The Thrushes._)

                           HOPPING DICK.[28]

                           _Twopenny Chick._

                          _Merula leucogenys._

          _Turdus leucogenys_,        +Gmel.+
          _Merula solicitor_,         +Hill+.

  [28] Length 9¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 14¹⁄₂, flexure 5, tail 3³⁄₄,
  rictus 1¹⁄₄, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Irides doll orange;
  beak bright orange, blackish at tip; feet deep fulvous. Whole
  upper parts greyish-black; crown and tail deep black; wing-quills
  brownish-black; the innermost two of the greater coverts have the
  edge of the outer web pure white. Under parts ashy-grey, silky;
  darkest on throat; chin _usually_ white; medial line of belly
  white: under tail-coverts black, tipped with white. Sexes exactly
  alike.

The birds on which the peasantry in any country have conferred homely
abbreviations of human names, are, I think, only such as have something
lively and entertaining in their manners. Examples of familiar birds
will at once occur to an English reader, and the subject of the
present note is by no means an exception to the rule. He is one of the
liveliest of our Jamaican birds: in woody places his clear whistle
perpetually strikes the ear of the passenger, as he sits among the
close foliage, or darts across the glade. Not unfrequently we are
startled by a shrill scream in some lonely place, and out rushes the
Hopping Dick, jumping with rapidity across the road, almost close to
our horse’s feet. He greatly reminds me of the English Blackbird, in
his sable plumage, and bright yellow beak, but especially when hopping
along the branches of some pimento tree, or upon the sward beneath, in
those beautiful park-like estates called _pens_. The keen glancing of
his eye, his quick turns and odd gesticulations, the elevation of his
long tail almost erect, his nods and jerks, have in them an uncommon
vivacity, which is not belied by his loud voice, as he repeats a high
mellow note four or five times in rapid succession, just preparatory
to, or during, his sudden flights from tree to tree. His notes are
various: sometimes we hear him in the lone wood, uttering, _click,
click, click_, without variation of tone or intermission, for many
minutes together. His _song_ which I have heard only in spring, is rich
and mellow, much like the English Blackbird’s: he sits in some thick
tree, or wood, particularly at earliest dawn, and pours forth his clear
notes in a broken strain, and often in a subdued tone, as if singing
only to please himself.

I happened to wound slightly two of these birds on the same day, which
I placed in a cage. They were free and easy from the first, very
clamorous, lively and even headlong in their sudden movements. I found
that they would seize and devour with eagerness cockroaches, hard
beetles, worms, and even small lizards. I gave them a bunch of the
ripe, but dry and insipid, berries of a species of _ficus_, which they
readily picked off and ate. The fruit of this fig they are fond of in
a state of freedom; and such is their impudence that they prevent the
Baldpate Pigeons, though so much bigger, from partaking. The Baldpates
would willingly eat the little figs also, but the Hopping Dicks scream
and fly at them, and peck their backs, so as to keep them fluttering
from branch to branch, reluctant to depart, yet unable to eat in
comfort.

At the break of day, if we pass along a wooded mountain road, such as
that lonely one at Basin-spring, in Westmoreland, particularly when the
parching winds called _norths_ have set in, in December and January,—we
see the Hopping Dicks bounding singly along the ground in every part;
but during the day they resort in numbers to the diminished springs and
ponds which yet remain, where, after quenching their thirst, they enjoy
the luxury of a bathe.

In the high mountains behind Spanish Town, this bird is called the
Twopenny chick; but in the parishes of Westmoreland and St. Elizabeth,
I have heard him distinguished only by the homely appellation which
I have adopted. He is not confined to any particular locality. Dr.
Chamberlaine (_Jam. Alm._) has “never seen him in the lowlands.” But
around Bluefields he is abundant, especially in the little belt of wood
that girds the sandy sea-beach at Belmont, where one may meet with him
at all times. In the pastures of Mount Edgecumbe he is no less common.
In the highest districts, as Bluefields Peaks, though I have sometimes
seen him, he is chiefly represented by his congener, the Glass-eye:
in the solitudes of Basin-spring, a lower elevation, both species are
numerous.

In some “Contributions to Ornithology,” by Dr. Richard Chamberlaine,
published in the Companion to the Jamaica Almanack for 1842, this
bird is described. The following observations are there quoted from
a letter of Mr. Hill’s to the Doctor:—“I paid a visit the other day
to the Highgate mountains, a district in which our native Ouzel, the
Hopping Dick, is exceedingly abundant. On asking one morning the name
of the bird, whose clear, mellow-toned whistle I was then listening to,
a negro told me it was the _Hopping Dick_, and that they ‘always hear
him when the long days begin.’ The long days had not yet begun; but at
early dawn, while the distant horizon was seen but faintly gleaming
through the dull grey break of daylight, and many of these Merles were
gliding from one thicket to another, and dashing across the road with
that bounding run from which they derive their sobriquet of Hopping
Dick, one bird anticipated the season of song, by repeatedly sounding
two or three cadences of that full deep whistle with which he salutes
the lengthening year.

“The forests skirting the mountain are his favourite haunt. If he
frequents the open slopes and crests of the hills, he glides from tree
to tree, just above the surface of the grass. If he rises above the
lower branches of the pimento, or into some of the loftier shrubs, it
is to visit the _Tillandsias_, or parasitical wild-pines, to drink
from within the heart-leaves at those reservoirs of collected dews
which are the only resource of the birds in these high mountains. His
dark sooty plumage, his brilliant orange bill, and his habit, when
surprised or disturbed, of escaping by running or flying low, and
sounding all the while his alarm scream till he gets away into the
thicket, completely identify him with the European Blackbird.

“It was in the month of July, in 1834, that I first heard the song
of this Ouzel, which I would call _Merula Saltator_, as this name
preserves his distinctive sobriquet of Hopping Dick, and refers to
his characteristic length of legs, both at the tarsus and the thighs.
The shock of an earthquake had wakened all the living tenants of
the plantation at which I was staying, when the voice of this bird,
as the alarm lulled into silence, was heard from a small coppice of
cedar-trees, clear and mellow. Though it was less varied than the song
of the European Blackbird, it was very much like its tones when it is
heard over distant fields in a summer’s morning. I had been apprised
that I should hear it there, for it had sung in that grove daily at
that season for three or four years; and though under the disadvantage
of being an anticipated song, it was a very agreeable recognition of
the melody of the European bird.

“The next time I heard his music was in the month of May, 1836, in the
same mountains. The rains of the season had terminated, or only mid-day
showers fell, the mornings and evenings being refreshing and brilliant
It was now not a single one of these birds that I heard singing lonely
in a sequestered cluster of trees, but a hundred of them far and near,
blending their voices together, or vying with each other in rivalry of
song. My frequent weekly journeys in these districts, from this period
to the end of August, were always cheered by this simultaneous outburst
of melody from the _Merula saltator_.”

I found a nest of this bird one day in the middle of August; it was
affixed to the highest perpendicular limb of a rather tall pimento in
Mount Edgecumbe, and consisted of a rude cup formed of the slender
roots of pimento, and placed on a platform of leaves and small twigs.
It contained two young, almost fledged, which flew to the ground before
they could be seized,—and one abortive egg. The young displayed the
plumage of the adult, even to the white webs on the two coverts; but
the eyes were dark greyish-brown, the beak blackish, and the feet,
dull, horny yellow. The egg measures 1⁴⁄₁₀ inch: by ⁹⁄₁₀: it is white,
thickly splashed with dark and pale reddish-brown. Sometimes, as I have
been informed, a decaying stump is selected, or any other convenient
hollow, into which the bird carries “plantain trash,” or similar
materials, and forms a rude nest, laying three or four eggs. And Mr.
Hill gives me a statement of a locality which is intermediate between
these; observing, “A friend of mine found the nest of a Hopping Dick.
It was built amid the dry leaves that had lodged within the forks of a
low branch of a mango-tree. It was a structure of small sticks, loosely
woven, in the centre of which the young birds nestled among dried
foliage.”


                             GLASS-EYE.[29]

                        _Shine-eye._—_Fish-eye._

                         _Merula Jamaicensis._

          _Turdus Jamaicensis_,       +Gm.+—Lath. Ind. Or. i. 328.
          _Merula leucophthalma_,     +Hill+.

  [29] Length 8¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 14, flexure 4⁹⁄₁₀, tail 3¹⁄₄,
  rictus 1¹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Irides bluish white,
  somewhat pellucid; feet dark horn, soles yellowish; beak black,
  basal half of lower mandible sometimes yellow. Whole head dark
  umber-brown, except on the chin, where it is speckled with white.
  Back blackish ash, tinged with brown on wing-primaries: tail
  blue-black. Breast and sides dusky ash, silky; separated from the
  brown of the head by a narrow transverse band of pure white: belly
  silky white; under tail-coverts black, with broad white tips. Sexes
  alike in plumage and size. Intestine 12 inches; two cæca ¹⁄₄ inch
  long, slender.

This is exclusively a mountain bird; inhabiting the very same
localities, and subsisting on the same food as the Solitaire, presently
to be described; the pulpy berries of a Scrophularious shrub, which the
negroes thence call _Glass-eye berry_. I have never found any animal
substance in the stomach of this species, numbers of which I have
examined; one in December contained many of the little scarlet figs,
from the tree on which I shot it: in February the green pimento-berries
are devoured by them; and later in the spring, it appears, the shining
fruit of the Sweetwood (_Laurus_) is attractive to them. On the 30th of
March, my lad shot a male Glass-eye by the road-side at Cave, scarcely
a stone’s throw from the sea, and level with it; the stomach contained
the berries of this _Laurus_, which is abundant just there. This is
the only instance in which I ever heard of the species, except in a
mountain locality.

The common names of this bird are bestowed in allusion to the tint of
the iris of the eye: this, as Mr. Hill observes, “is not absolutely
white, but so transparently suffused with a hue of olive, that the eye
has the look of very common glass.”

The figure, attitudes, and motions of the Glass-eye are those of its
fellow, the Hopping Dick; it is, however, much more recluse, and
jealous of being seen. The dashing manner of flight across the narrow
wood-paths are the same in both birds, but the loud and startling tones
of the lowland bird are wanting in this. The Glass-eye has but one note
_that I have heard_; a single low “_quank_,” frequently repeated as he
hops from bush to bush, or plunges into the thicket. Dr. Chamberlaine
attributes to him “the same loud sonorous chirp as he stealthily scuds
from one dark recess of the forest to another;” but I should think him
mistaken, were it not that Robinson, who gives a very correct drawing
of the species by the name of _Turdus capite ferrugineo_, and describes
it as common in the Liguanea mountains, affirms that “it whistles like
our English Blackbirds.” (MSS.)

The Woodthrush of Wilson, (_Turdus mustelinus_, Gm.,) a delightful
songster, is a regular annual visitor in the neighbourhood of Spanish
Town, but I have not seen it.


                           MOCKING BIRD.[30]

                            “_Nightingale._”

                          _Mimus polyglottus._

          _Turdus polyglottus_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 21.
          _Mimus polyglottus_,        +Boie.+
          _Orpheus polyglottus_,      +Sw.+

  [30] Length 10 inches, expanse 13, flexure 4¹⁄₄, tail 4¹⁄₄, rictus
  1, tarsus 1⁴⁄₁₀ middle toe 1. Intestine 8 inches, two minute,
  rudimentary cæca.

One of the very commonest of birds in Jamaica, bold and forward in his
manners, inviting rather than avoiding notice, of striking though not
showy colours, the Mocking-bird would be sure to attract the attention
of a stranger, even were he destitute of those unrivalled powers of
song that have commanded the praise of all auditors. The faculty of
imitating the voices of other birds, which has given to this species
its ordinary appellation, has been ably described by Wilson and
others, as well as the variety of notes, apparently original, which
it commands. The former has often caused me no small disappointment;
hearing the voice of, as I supposed, some new bird, or some that I
was in want of, I have found, after creeping cautiously and perhaps
with some difficulty to the spot, that it proceeded from the familiar
personage before us. With respect to the latter, I have been assured
by an observant friend, George Marcy, Esq., of the Kepp, that he, on
one occasion, counted no less than eighteen different notes, proceeding
from a Mocking-bird perched on a tree in his garden.

It is in the stillness of the night, when, like his European namesake,
he delights

    “—— with wakeful melody to cheer
     The livelong hours,”

that the song of this bird is heard to advantage. Sometimes, when,
desirous of watching the first flight of _Urania Sloaneus_, I have
ascended the mountains before break of day, I have been charmed with
the rich gushes and bursts of melody proceeding from this most sweet
songster, as he stood on tiptoe on the topmost twig of some sour-sop or
orange tree, in the rays of the bright moonlight. Now he is answered
by another, and now another joins the chorus, from the trees around,
till the woods and savannas are ringing with the delightful sounds of
exquisite and innocent joy. Nor is the season of song confined, as in
many birds, to that period when courtship and incubation call forth
the affections and sympathies of the sexes towards each other. The
Mocking-bird is vocal at all seasons; and it is probably owing to his
permanency of song, as well as to his incomparable variety, that the
savannas and lowland groves of Jamaica are almost always alive with
melody, though our singing birds are so few.

“It is remarkable,” observes Mr. Hill, “that in those serenades and
midnight solos, which have obtained for the Mocking-bird the name
of the Nightingale, and which he commences with a rapid stammering
prelude, as if he had awaked, frightened out of sleep, he never sings
his songs of mimicry; his music at this time is his own. It is full of
variety, with a fine compass, but less mingled and more equable than
by day, as if the minstrel felt that the sober-seeming of the night
required a solemnity of music peculiarly its own. The night-song of the
Mocking-bird, though in many of its modulations it reminds us of that
of the Nightingale of Europe, has less of volume in it. There is not
more variety, but a less frequent repetition of those certain notes of
extacy, which give such a peculiar character, and such wild, intense,
and all absorbing feeling to the midnight song of the European bird.
Though the more regulated quality of the song of _our_ Nightingale is
less calculated to create surprise, it is the more fitted to soothe and
console; and that sensation of melancholy which is said to pervade the
melody of the European minstrel, is substituted in the midnight singing
of our bird by one of thoughtful and tranquil delight.”

The nest of the Mocking-bird is not so elaborate a structure as that of
many birds. It is built with little attempt at concealment in some bush
or low tree, often an orange near the dwelling-house. One now before
me, was built in a bunch of plantains. It consists of a rude platform
of loose twigs, in which are interlaced many shreds of old rags;
this frame supports and encloses a rather neat cup, composed entirely
of fine fibrous roots. Another has the frame almost wholly of rags,
from canvas to lace; and the cup of thatch-threads, and horse-hair.
Three eggs are commonly laid, measuring ¹⁹⁄₂₀ by ⁷⁄₁₀ inch, of a pale
bluish-green, dashed with irregular blotches of pale reddish-brown:
they are not perfectly regular in form, their oval having more or
less tendency to a cylindrical shape, rather abruptly flattened at
the ends. When young are in possession, their presence is no secret;
for an unpleasant sound, half hissing, half whistling, is all day
long issuing from their unfledged throats; delightful efforts, I dare
say, to the fond parents. At this time the old birds are watchful and
courageous. If an intruding boy or naturalist approaches their family,
they hop from twig to twig, looking on with outstretched neck, in
mute but evident solicitude; but any winged visitant, though ever so
unconscious of evil intent, and though ever so large, is driven away
with fearless pertinacity. The saucy Ani and Tinkling instantly yield
the sacred neighbourhood, the brave Mocking-bird pursuing a group of
three or four, even to several hundred yards’ distance; and even the
John-crow, if he sail near the tree, is instantly attacked and driven
from the scene. But the hogs are the creatures that give him the most
annoyance. They are ordinarily fed upon the inferior oranges, the fruit
being shaken down to them in the evenings; hence they acquire the
habit of resorting to the orange-trees, to wait for a lucky windfall.
The Mocking-bird feeling nettled at the intrusion, flies down and
begins to peck the hog with all his might:—Piggy, not understanding the
matter, but pleased with the titillation, gently lies down and turns
up his broad side to enjoy it; the poor bird gets into an agony of
distress, pecks and pecks again; but only increases the enjoyment of
the luxurious intruder, and is at last compelled to give up the effort
in despair.

In St. Domingo the Mocking-bird is no less common than in Jamaica: it
is there called by the French inhabitants Rosignol, which is but a
modification of Rosignor, or lord of the rose, the Spanish name of the
Nightingale, probably of Moorish origin.


                    BLACK-CHEEKED YELLOW-THROAT.[31]

                   _Maryland Yellow-throat._ +Wils.+

                         _Trichas Marylandica._

          _Turdus trichas_,           +Linn.+
          _Sylvia trichas_,           +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 23.
          _Trichas Marylandica_,      +Sw.+

  [31] Length 5 inches, expanse 7, flexure 2⁴⁄₁₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀, rictus
  ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

We have now arrived at an extensive group of birds of small size, and
delicate form, mostly known by the name of _Warblers_. All of them are
merely winter visitants in Jamaica, the greater number retiring to
the Northern continent to breed and spend the summer. To Wilson’s and
Audubon’s descriptions, I refer the reader, as I have scarcely anything
to add to their accounts of these birds.

The Yellow-throat, one of the most beautiful of them, was first seen
by me on the 8th of October, on which day I obtained two males, in
distinct localities. I do not think the species had arrived long,
though some of the _Sylvicolæ_ had been with us nearly two months, for
I and my servants were in the woods every day seeking for birds, and
this species is too striking to be easily overlooked. In the latter
autumn months it was quite common, particularly in marshy places: I
have seen it in some numbers hopping busily about the bulrushes in a
pond, even descending down the stems to the very surface of the water,
and picking minute flies from thence. The stomachs of such as I have
examined, contained fragments of beetles and other insects.

In the spring, it seems to linger longer than its fellows; for the last
warbler that I saw was of this species, on the 1st of May. Yet Wilson
mentions that it habitually appears in Pennsylvania about the middle,
or last week, of April; and that it begins to build its nest about the
middle of May. The migration of the short-winged birds is probably
performed in straggling parties, and extends over a considerable period
of time; individuals remaining some time after the greater number have
departed.


                            WORM-EATER.[32]

                       _Vermivora Pennsylvanica._

          _Sylvia vermivora_,         +Lath.+
          _Dacnis vermivpra_,         +Aud.+ pl. 34.
          _Vermivora Pennsylvanica_,  +Sw.+

  [32] Length 5 inches, expanse 8¹⁄₂, flexure 2¹⁄₂, tail 1⁸⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

This is a scarce bird with us. Some three or four specimens are all
that have occurred to my observation. It seems, however, to spread
rather widely over the diversities of mountain and lowland; for, while
the first was obtained on the top of the Bluefields Peak, the next was
found close to the sea-shore. Its habits are constant: for we have
always observed it perched transversely on the dry trunks of slender
dead trees, engaged in peeping into, and picking from, the crevices of
the bark. In the stomachs of those which I have examined, I have found
comminuted insects. Spiders and caterpillars form the chief portion of
its food, according to Wilson.

It is too rare to warrant an opinion as to the period of its arrival or
departure: I first met with it on the 7th of October.


                           WATER THRUSH.[33]

               _Bessy Kick-up._—_River-pink._ (Rob. MSS.)

                       _Seiurus Noveboracensis._

          _Motacilla Noveboracensis_,   +Gm.+—Aud. pl. 426.
          _Turdus aquaticus_,           +Wils.+
          _Seiurus Noveboracensis_,     +Sw.+

  [33] Length 5¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 9⁴⁄₁₀, flexure 3, tail 2, rictus
  ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀.

I first saw this amusing species about the end of August, around
the muddy margins of ponds in St. Elizabeth and Westmoreland; and
immediately afterward they became so abundant, that individuals were to
be seen running here and there on the road, all the way from Bluefields
to Savanna-le-Mar, especially along the sea-shore, and by the edges
of morasses; not at all associating, however. They run rapidly; often
wade up to the heel in the water, or run along the twigs of a fallen
tree at the brink, now and then flying up into the pimento and orange
trees. When walking or standing, the tail is continually flirted up
in the manner of the Wagtails, whence the local name of _Kick-up_,
though, perhaps, none but a negro would consider a motion of the tail,
_kicking_. The resemblance of this bird to the Wagtail, Wilson has
noticed, and it is very striking in many respects. It walks among the
low grass of pastures, picking here and there, wagging the tail, and
uttering a sharp _chip_. Now and then it runs briskly, and snatches
something, probably a winged insect, from the grass. Wilson praises its
song very highly; in its winter residence with us it merely _chips_
monotonously. The stomachs of several that I have dissected contained
water-insects in fragments, and one or two small pond shells.

There is a remarkable analogy in the Water Thrushes to the Snipes and
Plovers, in their habits of running by the side of water, of wading,
and of flirting up the hinder parts; in the height of the tarsi; and
in the elongation of the tertials. The Pea-Dove, which frequents water
more than any other of our Doves, has longer tertials than any. Is
there any connexion between the lengthening of these feathers, and
aquatic habits?


                        GOLD-CROWNED THRUSH.[34]

                            _Land Kick-up._

                        _Seiurus aurocapillus._

          _Turdus aurocapillus_,      +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 143.
          _Sylvia aurocapilla_,       +Bonap.+
          _Seiurus aurocapillus_,     +Sw.+

  [34] Length 6¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 9¹⁄₂, flexure 3, tail 2¹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe ³⁄₄.

The speckled breast, rich fulvous crown, and warm olive back, make this
a very pretty bird. His manners are much like those of his cousin
Bessy, running along with much wagging of the tail, and chirping _tsip,
tsip_, incessantly. He is, however, less aquatic in his predilections.
I first observed the species about the middle of September; it was
on a low part of the road by the side of a morass. Its attitude
struck me, as it was running on the ground with the tail held almost
perpendicularly upwards. In the stomach, a muscular gizzard, I have
occasionally found _various seeds_, gravel, mud-insects, caterpillars,
and small turbinate shells. I was one day amused by watching two,
unassociated, walking about a place covered with dry leaves, beneath
some trees. I was unseen by them, though quite close. The tail of
each was carried quite perpendicular as they walked, which gave a
most grotesque effect; but, as if this elevation were not sufficient,
at almost every step they jerked it up still higher, the white
under-coverts projecting in a puffy globose form.

Though this species arrives in Jamaica rather later than the preceding,
they depart together, about the 20th of April: and soon after this
their appearance in the United States is recorded. Unlike the
preceding, the present species is said to be, even in summer, destitute
of song.


                     BLUE YELLOW-BACK WARBLER.[35]

                          _Parula Americana._

          _Parus Americanus_,         +Linn.+
          _Sylvia Americana_,         +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 15.
          _Sylvia pusilla_,           +Wils.+
          _Parula Americana_,         +Bonap.+

  [35] Length 4¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 7, flexure 2¹⁄₄, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ⁴⁄₁₀.

This pretty little species, so much in habits and appearance like the
European Tits, arrives in Jamaica early in September, and retires
late in April, for we last saw it on the 20th. During the autumn and
winter it was among the most common of our warblers. In the morasses,
especially, they were to be seen in numbers, yet not in company, making
the sombre mangrove-woods lively, if not vocal. They are active and
restless, hopping perpendicularly up the slender boles, and about the
twigs, peeping into the bases of the leaves, and crevices of the bark,
for insects.

The female, identified by dissection, has all the colours paler, but
agrees with the male in their variety and distribution. Individuals,
however, were found in September, which had the blue plumage of the
head and of the rump, tipped with yellow, imparting a green tinge to
those parts.


                        YELLOW-RUMP WARBLER.[36]

                         _Sylvicola coronata._

          _Motacilla coronata_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 153.
          _Sylvicola coronata_,       +Sw.+

  [36] Length 5³⁄₄ inches, expanse 9²⁄₁₀, flexure 2⁹⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₄,
  rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, (nearly), tarsus ¹⁷⁄₂₀, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀.

I have little to say of this changeable species. It occurs but
sparsely with us, coming rather late in the autumn, when the plumage
is undergoing its transformation, so well detailed by Wilson. On only
one occasion have I observed them numerous; towards the latter part
of March, on the estate called Dawkins’ Saltpond, near Spanish town,
many were hopping about the Cashaw trees (_Prosopis juliflora_) that
abound there. All of these that I examined, had the yellow of the crown
obscured, and some almost obliterated. One which I shot in October did
not display it at all, while one in January had the hue very brilliant,
but only at the bases of the coronal feathers; exposed or concealed as
in some of the Tyrants. As far as I have observed, the manners of this
bird are those of a Flycatcher, capturing minute insects on the wing,
and returning to a twig to eat them. The stomach is usually filled with
a black mass of minute flies.


                       YELLOW-THROAT WARBLER.[37]

                         _Sylvicola pensilis._

          _Sylvia pensilis_,          +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 85.
          _Sylvia flavicollis_,       +Wils.+
          _Sylvicola pensilis_,       +Bonap.+

  [37] Length 5¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 8, flexure 2¹⁄₂, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ¹³⁄₂₀ (nearly), tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀.

Wilson has justly observed that the habits of this lovely bird are
those of a Tit or a Creeper. I have usually observed it creeping about
the twigs of trees, or among the blossoms. The first I met with was
thus engaged, creeping in and out, and clinging to the beautiful and
fragrant flowers that grew in profuse spikes from the summit of a
papaw-tree. It is one of the earliest of our visitors from the north,
for this was on the 16th of August; and it remains until April among
the sunny glades of our magnificent island. The stomach of such as I
have examined was large, and contained caterpillars of various sizes
and species. An individual in March, which I proved by dissection to
be a female, did not differ in intensity of colouring, or any other
appreciable respect, from the male. The eggs in the ovary at that
season, were distinguishable, but minute.


                      YELLOW RED-POLL WARBLER.[38]

                          _Sylvicola æstiva._

        _Sylvia æstiva et petechia_,       +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 95.
        _Sylvia citrinella et petechia_,   +Wils.+
        _Sylvia Childrenii_ (_young_,)     Aud. pl. 35.
        _Sylvicola æstiva_,                +Sw.+

  [38] Length 5¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 8¹⁄₁₀, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹⁄₂.

Of this very beautiful species, which has been described under so
many names, I have specimens in much diversity of plumage, from that
in which the chestnut crown, and spots of the breast are deep and
conspicuous, to that in which there is no trace either of the one or
the other. There is little in their manners to distinguish them from
others of this pretty family. They arrive in Jamaica in September, and
depart in April; and, like their fellows, hop about low trees, feeding
on small insects. In March, I observed it rather numerous, hopping
about the _Cleome pentaphylla_, and other low shrubs which were then in
flower, on the banks of the new cut of the Rio Cobre, not half a mile
from the sea of Kingston Harbour. Whenever I have seen it, it has been
very near the sea.


                          AURORA WARBLER.[39]

                        _Sylvicola eoa._—+Mihi.+

  [39] Length 5 inches, expanse 7⁶⁄₁₀, flexure 2⁷⁄₂₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, (nearly), tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹⁄₂. Irides dark
  hazel; feet horn-colour; beak pale horn, culmen and tip darker.
  Male. Upper parts olive, approaching to yellow on the rump: sides
  of head marked with a band of orange, extending from the ear to
  the beak, and meeting both on the forehead and on the chin. Wing
  quills and coverts blackish with yellowish edges. Tail blackish
  olive, with yellow edges; the outermost two feathers on each side,
  have the greatest portion of the inner webs pale yellow. Under
  parts pale yellow. The crown, rump, tertials, belly, and under
  tail-coverts, are sparsely marked with undefined patches of pale
  orange. Female. Nearly as the male, but the deep orange is spread
  over the whole cheeks, chin, throat, and breast. The head and back
  are dusky grey, tinged with olive, and patched with the fulvous,
  much more largely, but irregularly, and as if _laid upon_ the
  darker hue.

The pair of singularly marked Warblers which I describe below, were
shot on the 21st and 24th of January at Crabpond. That the male in
summer plumage would be much more brilliant than my specimen, I have
no doubt, for the latter is inferior to the female, and the patched
character of the plumage indicates that a seasonal change was then
proceeding. If it has been described in its nuptial livery I have
failed to recognise it. The male, which was the first obtained, was
hopping about the mangroves, which are abundant at the marshy place
named, from the summits down to the very surface of the water; and
the female was one of a pair that were toying, and chasing each other
through the branches of the same trees. At this time, the ovary was
scarcely developed, the ova being distinguishable only with a lens. The
stomach, in each case, was filled with a black mass of insects.


                        RED-BACKED WARBLER.[40]

                       _Prairie Warbler._—+Wils.+

                         _Sylvicola discolor._

          _Sylvia discolor_,          +Vieill.+—Aud. pl. 14.
          _Sylvia minuta_,            +Wils.+

  [40] Length 4³⁄₄ inches, expanse 7, flexure 2³⁄₁₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ¹¹⁄₂₀, tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀.

It is before the fierce heat of summer has begun to abate in the
prairies of the west, that this little bird seeks its winter quarters.
On the 18th of August I first met with it, on which day I shot two in
different localities. One was hopping hurriedly about low bushes, and
herbaceous weeds, not a foot from the ground, examining every stalk
and twig, as it proceeded regularly but rapidly along the road-side,
for insects. The other was differently engaged. It flew from a bush by
the way-side as far as the middle of the road, when hovering in the
air a few feet from the ground, it fluttered and turned hither and
thither, and then flew back to nearly the same spot as that whence it
had started. In a second or two it performed exactly the same manœuvres
again; and then a third time, preventing, by the irregularity of its
contortions, my taking aim at it, for some time. I have no doubt it was
capturing some of the minute dipterous flies which were floating in the
declining sun, in numerous swarms; but in a manner not usual with the
Warblers. The stomach, in each specimen, was full of small fragments of
insects. From that period to April, on the 11th of which month I last
saw it, it was a very common resident in the bushes and low woods.

Wilson describes the markings of the female as less vivid than those
of the male; but two of that sex, which I shot in January, were in no
respect inferior to the brightest males. Some have the red spots of
the back almost, or even quite, obliterated; but this is not a sexual
distinction.


                    BLACK-THROATED BLUE WARBLER.[41]

                        _Sylvicola Canadensis._

        _Motacilla Canadensis_,         +Linn.+
        _Sylvia Canadensis_,            +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 155.
        _Sylvia sphagnosa_ (_young_),   +Bonap.+

  [41] Length 5¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 8, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₈,
  rictus ¹¹⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀.

In its winter residence with us, the Black-throat prefers the edges of
tall woods, in unfrequented mountainous localities. I have scarcely met
with it in the lowlands. The summits of Bluefields Peaks, Bognie and
Rotherwood, are where I have been familiar with it. It was there that
Sam shot the first specimen that I obtained, on the 7th of October, and
at the same lofty elevation. I afterwards saw it repeatedly. Three or
four of these lovely birds frequently play together with much spirit,
for half an hour at a time, chasing each other swiftly round and round,
occasionally dodging through the bushes, and uttering, at intervals, a
pebbly _chip_. They often alight, but are no sooner on the twig than
off, so that it is difficult to shoot them. I have observed one peck a
glass-eye berry, and in the stomachs of more than one, I have observed
many hard shining black seeds. But more frequently it leaps up at flies
and returns to a twig. At other times I have noticed it flitting and
turning about in the woods, apparently pursuing insects, and suddenly
drop perpendicularly fifteen or twenty feet, to the ground, and there
hop about. Restlessness is its character: often it alights transversely
on the long pendent vines and withes, or on slender dry trees, hopping
up and down them without a moment’s intermission, pecking at insects.
It is generally excessively fat, and what is rather unusual, the fat is
as white as that of mutton.

In the middle of March I met with it in the neighbourhood of Spanish
town, and, on the 9th of April, Sam found it at Crabpond, for the
last time, soon after which it, no doubt, deserted its insular for a
continental residence.

The form of the beak as well as the habits, of this bird, indicate an
approach to the Flycatchers.

In the Ornithology of M. Ramon de la Sagra’s Cuba, this species is
figured, under the name of Bijirita, which, however, appears to
be common to the Warblers. “Though migratory, it seems to breed
occasionally in the Antilles, for M. de la Sagra has killed in Cuba,
young ones, which were doubtless hatched in the island.”


                           OLIVE WARBLER.[42]

                      _Sylvicola pannosa._—+Mihi.+

  [42] Length 5 inches, expanse 7, flexure 2⁴⁄₁₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀,
  (nearly), rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Irides
  dark brown; feet dark horn; beak black. Upper parts dull olive;
  wing-quills blackish with olive edges; the second, third, fourth,
  and fifth, have a white spot at the base of the outer web, forming
  a short band. Tail greyish-black. Cheeks blackish-ash. Upper parts
  yellowish-white, tinged on the breast and sides with dingy olive.

The bird described below, a sombre exception to a particularly
brilliant family, I cannot refer to any species with which I am
familiar; it may, however, be the female of a recorded species.
I regret that I did not ascertain the sex of the individual
described, the only one that ever fell into my hands. Nor can I
give any information concerning it, but that it was shot by Sam, at
Basin-spring, on the 8th of October, hopping about low bushes.


                       ARROW-HEADED WARBLER.[43]

                     _Sylvicola pharetra._—+Mihi.+

  [43] Length 5⁴⁄₁₀ inches, expanse 8 (nearly), flexure 2¹¹⁄₂₀, tail
  2, rictus about ⁶⁄₁₀? tarsus ⁷⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀. Irides hazel;
  beak black above, suture and lower mandible grey; feet purplish
  horn, with pale soles. Head, neck, back, less coverts, chin, throat
  and breast, mottled with black and white, each feather being grey
  at the base, and black, bounded on each side by white, at the
  tip. The black preponderates on the upper parts, the white on the
  breast, where the black spots take arrow-headed forms. Wing-quills
  and coverts black; the first primaries have the middle portion
  of their outer edge narrowly white, and those from the third to
  the seventh inclusive have a more conspicuous white spot at the
  basal part of the outer edge. The secondary greater coverts are
  tipped outwardly with white, the medial coverts more broadly; and
  these form two bands, but not very notable. Plumage of rump and
  tail-coverts unwebbed, brownish-grey. Tail-feathers black, with
  paler edges, the outmost two or three tipped inwardly with white.
  Sides, thighs, and under tail-coverts grey, with indistinct black
  centres. Belly greyish white.

This is another species, of which I have but a single specimen. It was
shot on the 9th of February, in Bognie woods, on the top of Bluefields
Peak. I know nothing of its manners, but that it was engaged, as
Warblers commonly are, hopping on trees, and peeping for insects. The
specimen was a male. Its general aspect is like that of the Black and
white Creeper, but it may be distinguished at once by comparison; the
colours in _that_ being distributed in greater masses, and disposed in
broad stripes; in _this_, in small mottlings, or thick spotting, which
difference is especially observable on the head. The beak, also, though
partly shot away in my specimen, is decidedly that of a _Sylvicola_.


                +Fam.+—MUSCICAPADÆ.—(_The Flycatchers._)

                        REDSTART FLYCATCHER.[44]

                         _Setophaga ruticilla._

      _Musicapa ruticilla_,             +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 40.
      _Motacilla flavicauda_, (_fem._)  +Gmel.+
      _Setophaga ruticilla_,            +Sw.+

  [44] Length of 5³⁄₈ inches, expanse 7¹⁄₂, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₄,
  rictus ¹¹⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀.

The great family of Flycatchers are distinguished by their depressed
beak and rictal bristles, and by their general habit of capturing
flying insects on the wing, and returning to a resting place to
swallow them. The species, before us, however, a bird of remarkable
elegance, both of form and colour,—combines with this habit, those of
the Warblers; Wilson’s assertion to the contrary notwithstanding. It
is particularly restless, hopping from one twig to another through a
wood, so rapidly, that it is difficult to keep it in sight, though
conspicuous from its brilliant contrast of colours; yet it is not a
shy bird. A good deal of its insect food it obtains by picking it from
the twigs and flowers. About the end of the year, a male was in the
habit of frequenting the lawn of Bluefields House, day after day. In
the early morning, while the grass was yet wet with dews, it might be
seen running on the ground, at which time its long tail being raised
at a small angle, and the fore parts of its body depressed, it had
much of the aspect of a Wagtail. It ran with great swiftness hither
and thither, a few feet at a time, and during each run, the wings were
opened and vibrated in a peculiar flutter with great rapidity. It was,
I am sure, taking small insects, as now and then it turned short.
Sometimes, instead of running, it took a short flight, but still close
to the turf.

One which was wounded in the wing, I put into a cage; on the floor of
which it sat, looking wildly upwards, the beautiful tail being expanded
like a fan, so as to display the orange-colour on each side. All the
while it chirped pertinaciously, producing the sharp sound of two
quartz pebbles struck together.

This was the very first of the migrant visitors from the North that I
met with, a female having been killed in the mountains of St. Elizabeth
as early as the 10th of August. We lost sight of it again about the
20th of April; so that this species remains in the islands upwards of
eight months. Yet nearly four weeks before this, I observed a pair
engaged in amatory toying, pursuing each other to and fro among the
pimento trees.

On the 8th of May, 1838, being at sea in the Gulf of Mexico, not far
from the Dry Tortugas, a young male of this lovely species flew on
board. It would fly from side to side, and from rope to rope, as if
unwilling to leave the vessel, but occasionally it would stretch off to
a long distance, then turn round, and fly straight back again; it was
not at all exhausted. While I held it, it squeaked and bit at my hand
violently and fiercely.


                       BUFF-WINGED FLAT-BILL.[45]

                      _Myiobius pallidus._—+Mihi.+

  [45] Length 6¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 8¹⁄₂, flexure 2⁸⁄₁₀, tail 2⁵⁄₁₀,
  rictus ¹³⁄₂₀, breadth at base ⁷⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁴⁄₁₀.
  Irides hazel; feet black; beak very depressed, lateral margin
  convex, upper mandible black, lower pale fulvous, dark at tip.
  Upper parts olive-brown; wing-quills black, third longest; greater
  coverts, secondaries, and tertiaries edged with pale brown. Tail
  blackish, emarginated. Throat ashy, tinged with yellow. Breast,
  belly, sides, and under tail-coverts, yellowish-brown. Under
  wing-coverts dull-buff.

There is much resemblance between this species and the _Tyrannula
megacephala_ of Swainson’s Birds of Brazil, pl. 47; but they are
manifestly distinct.

In unfrequented mountain roads, bordered by deep forests, the Flat-bill
is very common, and from its fearlessness easily obtained. In the
autumn months, the traveller may observe a dozen or more in the course
of a mile, sitting on the projecting branches of the way-side woods.
There is, however, nothing like association of one with another; like
the other Tyrants, it is quite solitary, at least in its occupation.
It flies very little, the wings being short and hollow; but sits on
a twig, and leaps out at vagrant flies, which it catches with a loud
snap, and returns; it utters a feeble squeak as it sits. Sometimes it
emits a weak wailing cry, as, it flits from one tree to another.

The analogies often observed between animals possessing no affinity,
is curious. The flat, weak bill, darker above than below, the general
form, the hollow wings, the loose plumage, and the habit of sitting on
a low twig unmoved by the presence of man, this species possesses in
common with the Tody.


                      BLACK-BILLED FLAT-BILL.[46]

                      _Myiobius tristis._—+Mihi.+

  [46] Length 6³⁄₄ inches, expanse 9¹⁄₄, flexure 2⁹⁄₁₀, tail 2³⁄₄,
  rictus ¹⁷⁄₂₀, breadth at base ⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀.
  Irides dark hazel; beak black above, dark brown beneath, formed as
  that of the preceding. Feet greyish black. Crown deep bistre-brown,
  softening on the back to a paler hue, slightly tinged with olive;
  tail-coverts dark umber. Wings black; greater and mid coverts, and
  secondaries edged with pale umber; the tertials have still paler
  edges. Tail smoky black, each feather narrowly edged with umber.
  Sides of head and neck, pale bistre. Chin, throat, and fore neck,
  ashy-grey, blending on the breast with the pure straw-yellow, which
  is the hue of the belly, sides, vent, and under tail-coverts. Edge
  of shoulder pale buff.

A very common species, frequenting the edges of high woods and
road-sides, like the preceding, the manners of these birds being nearly
the same. It is a skilful fly-catcher, and a voracious one. I have
taken a _Libellula_ of considerable size from the stomach of one, which
not only filled that organ, but extended through the proventriculus to
the œsophagus: the head was downward, which position was of course the
most favourable for being swallowed.

When taken in the hand, it erects the crown-feathers, and snaps the
beak loudly and often, uttering shrill squeaks also, at intervals.
Its note is one of the very earliest; even before the light of day
has begun to dim the brilliancy of the morning star, this little bird
is vocal. A single wailing note, somewhat protracted, is his ordinary
voice, particularly sad to hear, but sometimes followed by one or two
short notes in another tone.

I have never met with the nest of either this or the preceding species,
but Robinson (MSS. ii. 98,) describing this bird as “the Lesser
Loggerhead of Jamaica,” says, “they have three young, generally reared
in any hollow place of a tree in June.” He adds, “they have no note;”
but in this he was in error.


                         FOOLISH PETCHARY.[47]

                           _Little Tom-fool._

                      _Myiobius stolidus._—+Mihi.+

  [47] Length 7¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 10¹⁄₂, flexure 3¹⁄₄, tail 3,
  rictus 1, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀. Irides dark hazel; beak
  black; feet blackish grey. Upper parts bistre-brown, rather paler
  on the back. Wing primaries have the basal part of their outer
  edge, narrowly chestnut; greater and mid coverts, secondaries and
  tertiaries, edged and tipped with whitish. Tail even, the feathers
  broadly edged inwardly with chestnut. Cheeks grey, mottled;
  chin, throat, and fore-breast, greyish white; breast, belly,
  vent under-tail-coverts, and interior of wings pale yellow. Head
  feathers erectile. Female has the primaries and tail-feathers edged
  with whitish, instead of chestnut. Two minute cæca.

For a time I considered this to be the Pewee of Wilson, but its
superior size, grey throat, and rufous edges of the wing and tail,
have convinced me that it is quite distinct. I have little information
to give concerning it that would distinguish it from the other Tyrants.
It resides in Jamaica permanently, and is of rather common occurrence,
at the edges of woods; it manifests, perhaps, less fear of man than
even its congeners, often pursuing its employment of catching insects
though a person stand beneath the twig which it has chosen as a
station. If it does remove it usually perches again a few yards off,
and sits looking at the stranger.

I have not found its nest; but near the end of August, I met some negro
boys who had three young ones of this species, which they had just
taken from the nest, situated, as they described, in a hollow stump.


                           GREY PETCHARY.[48]

                        _Tyrannus Dominicensis._

      _Muscicapa Dominicensis_,     +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 170.
      _Tyrannus griseus_,           +Vieill.+ Ois. de l’Am. 46.
      _Tyrannus Dominicensis_,      +Bonap.+

  [48] Length 9¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 14¹⁄₂, tail 3⁸⁄₁₀, flexure 4⁵⁄₈,
  rictus 1¹⁄₄, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ³⁄₄. Irides dark hazel.
  Intestine 8 inches: two cæca very minute, about ¹⁄₈ inch long, and
  no thicker than a pin, at 1 inch from the cloaca. Sexes exactly
  alike.

The history of this bird shall be mainly told by my valued friend
Mr. Hill. “It is along the sea-side savannas and pastures, and among
the adjacent hills and valleys, that the migratory flocks of the Grey
Petchary swarm at the beginning of September. Occasional showers have
given a partial freshness to the lowland landscape; the fields have
begun to look grassy and green, and the trees to brighten with verdure,
when numbers of these birds appear congregated on the trees around the
cattle ponds, and about the open meadows, hawking the insect-swarms
that fill the air at sun-down. No sooner do the migrant visitors appear
on our shores, than the several birds of the species, that breed with
us, quit their nestling trees, and disappear from their customary beat.
They join the stranger flocks, and gather about the places to which the
migratory visitors resort, and never resume their ordinary abodes till
the breeding season returns.

The migrant visitors do not appear among us many days before they
become exceedingly fat: they are then eagerly sought after by the
sportsman, who follows the flocks to their favourite haunts, and
slaughters them by dozens. The Petchary is not exclusively an
insect-feeder;—the sweet wild berries tempt him. In September the
pimenta begins to fill and ripen, and in these groves the birds may
always be found, not so much gathered in flocks as thickly dispersed
about. It is, however, at sunset that they exclusively congregate;
when insect life is busiest on the wing. Wherever the stirring swarms
abound, they may be seen ranged in dense lines on the bare branch of
some advantageous tree. By the end of September, the migrant Petcharies
quit us, leaving with us most of those which bred with us.”

“The Petchary is among the earliest breeders of the year. As early
as the month of January the mated pairs are already in possession of
some lofty and commanding tree, sounding at day-dawn that ceaseless
shriek, composed of a repetition of some three or four shrill notes,
very similar to the words _pecheery—pecheery—pe-chēēr-ry_, from which
they receive their name. To this locality they remain constant till
the autumn. They then quit these haunts, and congregate about the
lowland ponds. At some hour or two before sunset, they assemble in
considerable numbers to prey upon the insects that hover about these
watering-places. They are then observed unceasingly winging upward and
downward, and athwart the waters, twittering and shrieking, but never
flying far. They dart off from some exposed twig, where they had sat
eight or ten in a row, and return to it again, devouring there, the
prey they have caught. Their evolutions are rapid; their positions of
flight are constantly and hurriedly changing; they shew at one while
all the outer, and at another all the inner plumage; and they fly,
checking their speed suddenly, and turning at the smallest imaginable
angle. There are times when the Petchary starts off in a straight line
from his perch, and glides with motionless wings, as light and buoyant
as a gossamer, from one tree to another. When he descends to pick an
insect from the surface of the water, his downward course is as if he
were tumbling, and when he rises in a line upward, he ascends with a
curious lift of the wings, as if he were thrown up in the air, and were
endeavouring to recover himself from the impetus.

“The congregated flocks disappear entirely before the month of October
is out. It is only in some five or six weeks of the year that they
are reconciled to association in communities. At all other times they
restrict their company to their mates, and permit no other bird to
divide with them their solitary trees.

“From the window of the room in which I am writing, I look out upon a
very lofty cocoa-nut tree, in the possession of a pair of Petcharies.
Long before the voice of any other bird is heard in the morning, even
when daylight is but faintly gleaming, the shrill unvarying cry of
these birds is reiterated from their aerie on the tree-top. Perched on
this vantage-height, they scream defiance to every inhabitant around
them, and sally forth to wage war on all the birds that venture near.
None but the Swallow dares to take the circuit of their nestling tree.
At a signal from one of the birds, perhaps the female, when a Carrion
Vulture is sweeping near, or a Hawk is approaching, the mate flings
himself upwards in the air, and having gained an elevation equal to
that of the bird he intends to attack, he starts off in a horizontal
line, with nicely balanced wings, and hovering for a moment, descends
upon the intruder’s back, shrieking all the while, as he sinks and
rises, and repeats his attacks with vehemence. The Carrion Vulture,
that seldom courses the air but with gliding motion now flaps his wings
eagerly, and pitches downward at every stroke his assailant makes at
him, and tries to dodge him. In this way he pursues him, and frequently
brings him to the ground.

“The Hawk is beset by all birds of any power of wing, but the boldest,
and, judging from the continued exertion he makes to escape, the most
effective of his assailants is the Petchary. It is not with feelings of
contempt the Hawk regards this foe:—he hurries away from him with rapid
flight, and hastily seeks to gain some resting place; but as he takes
a direct course from one exposed tree to another equally ill-suited,
he is seen again submitting to the infliction of a renewed visit from
his pertinacious assailant, till he is constrained to soar upward, and
speed away, wearied by the buffets of his adversary.

“The appearance of the Petchary, when he erects the feathers of his
crest, or opens those of his forehead, and shews glimpses of his fiery
crown is fierce, vindictive, and desperate. His eye is deeply dark,
and his bill, although it greatly resembles, in its robust make, that
of the Raven, is even of sturdier proportions than that bird’s; the
bristles are black, and amazingly strong.

“The Petchary has been known to make prey of the Humming-bird, as it
hovers over the blossom of the garden. When he seizes it, he kills it
by repeated blows, struck on the branch where he devours it. I have
remarked him, beside, beating over little spaces of a field, like a
Hawk, and reconnoitring the flowers beneath him; searching also along
the blossoms of a hedge-bank, and striking so violently into the
herbage for insects, that he has been turned over as he grabbed his
prey, and seemed saved from breaking his neck in his vehemence, only by
the recoil of the herbage.

“His nest in this part of the island has seldom been found in any other
trees than those of the palm-kind. Amid the web of fibres that encircle
the footstalk of each branch of the cocoa-nut, he weaves a nest, lined
with cotton, wool, and grass. The eggs are four or five, of an ivory
colour, blotched with deep purple spots, intermingled with brown
specks, with the clusters thickening at the greater end. The Eagle,
flapping his pinions as he shrieks from his rock when the tempest-cloud
passes by, is not a more striking picture than this little bird, when,
with his anxieties all centred in the cradle of his young ones, he
stands in ‘his pride of place,’ on the limb of his palm, towering high
above all other trees, and battling with the breeze that rocks it, and,
rush after rush as the wind sweeps onward, flutters his wings with
every jerk of the branches, and screams like a fury.”

I have little to add to the above detail. With us at the western end
of the Island, the Grey Petchary is wholly migratory, not one having
been seen by us from October to April. If its migrations be, as I
have reason to think, not northward and southward, but eastward and
westward, this fact is easily accounted for, from the greater nearness
of our part to Central America, where they probably winter. This
species is found in St. Domingo, but not, as it appears, in Cuba,
where it seems to be represented by _T. Magnirostris_, D’Orb., nor
has it been recognised, except accidentally, in North America. Even
its wintering about Spanish Town, seems to be not constant, for from
communications made to me by Mr. Hill, the present spring, I infer none
had been seen through the winter. In Westmoreland, I observed the first
individual after the winter, on the 30th of March, at the Short Cut of
Paradise-morass; and a day or two afterwards they were numerous there,
and were advancing to the eastward. Yet on the 16th of April, Mr. Hill
writes me, “It is worth remarking that, although Grey Petcharies have
been several days now with you, they have not made their appearance
here yet.” He adds the interesting note, afforded by some friends who
had in March visited the Pedro kays, that “the Grey Petchary, was seen
making its traverse by those rocks,” and that “the migratory birds that
visited those islets came from the west and departed to the eastward,
or, as it was otherwise expressed, they came from the Indian coast,
and proceeded on to the coast of Jamaica, coursing from southward and
westward to northward and eastward.” The dispersion of the arrived
migrants along the groves of Jamaica, seems to be very leisurely, for
a month after their appearance with us, Mr. Hill writes, on the 28th
of April, “This morning the Grey Petchary made his appearance on the
lofty cocoa-nut, _for the first time this season_. He is there now,
shivering his wings, on its flaunting limbs, unceasingly screaming
_pi-chee-ree-e_. He is turning about and proclaiming his arrival to
every quarter of the wind. He is Sir Oracle, and no dog must bark in
his neighbourhood.”

I have not observed in the vicinity of Bluefields, the predilection
alluded to by my friend of this bird for the Palm-tribe. Several pairs
have nested under my notice, but none of them were in palm-trees. Of
two which I procured for examination, one was from an upper limb of a
bitterwood-tree, of no great height, close to a friend’s door. It was
a cup made of the stalks and tendrils of either a small passion-flower
or a bryony, the spiral tendrils prettily arranged round the edge, and
was very neatly and thickly lined with black horse-hair. It contained
three young, newly hatched, and thinly clothed with a buff-coloured
down, and one egg. The other was from a hog-plum (_Spondias_). It was
a rather loose structure, smaller and less compact, composed almost
entirely of tendrils, which gave it a crisped appearance; a few stalks
entered into the frame, but there was no horse-hair within; but one
or two of the shining black frond-ribs of a fern, scarcely thicker
than hair. The eggs, three in number, were round-oval, 1 inch by ³⁄₄;
dull reddish-white, handsomely marked with spots and angular clouds of
red-brown, much resembling the sinuous outline of land on a terrestrial
globe.


                          COMMON PETCHARY.[49]

                _Tyrannus caudifasciatus._—+D’Orbigny.+

  [49] Length 8³⁄₄ inches, expanse 13, tail 3⁴⁄₁₀, flexure 4¹⁄₈,
  rictus 1⁷⁄₂₀, tarsus 1, middle toe ⁸⁄₁₀.

  Irides hazel. Intestine short, about 4¹⁄₂ inches, cæca rudimentary:
  stomach slightly muscular.

D’Orbigny in the Ornithology of Ramon de la Sagra’s work on Cuba, has
described and figured this species, which in its appearance and manners
very much resembles the King-bird of the United States, as it does
also the preceding species. It is, however, a permanent inhabitant of
Jamaica. In Westmoreland and St. Elizabeth’s, the name Petchary is
applied indifferently to this and the grey species, as the equivalent
term _Pitirre_, in Cuba seems to indicate any species of _Tyrannus_.
Vieillot has described a closely allied bird, if not identical with
ours, by the name of _Tyr. Pipiri_. But in the neighbourhood of Spanish
Town, this species is distinguished from the grey, to which the name
Petchary is there confined, by the term Loggerhead, which, with us to
leeward, is applied to the rufous species, _T. Crinitus_. It is well
to be aware of this confusion of local names, or we may be liable to
predicate of one species, what is true only of another.

It is one of the commonest birds of Jamaica, both in the lowlands
and the hilly districts, nor is it rare even at the elevation of the
Bluefields Peaks. It seems to delight in the fruit and timber-trees,
which are thickly planted in the pens, and around the homesteads
of the southern coast, and everywhere, in fact, where insects are
numerous. The larger kinds of insects form the prey of this species
as of the former. I have seen one pursue with several doublings a
large _Cetonia_, which, however, having escaped, the bird instantly
snapped up a _Cicada_ of still greater bulk, and began to beat it to
kill it, while the poor insect sung shrilly as it was being devoured.
It frequently resorts to a tree that overhangs still water, for the
purpose of hawking after the dragon-flies that skim over the surface.
The size of these insects, and their projecting wings, would seem to
make the swallowing of them a matter of some difficulty; for I have
noticed that the bird jerks the insect round by little and little,
without letting it go, till the head points inward, when it is
swallowed more readily. Mr. Hill has noticed a very interesting trait
in this bird, so frequently as to be properly called a habit. It will
play with a large beetle as a cat with a mouse, no doubt after its
appetite has been sated. Sitting on a twig, and holding the beetle in
its beak, it suddenly permits it to drop, then plunging downward, it
gets beneath the insect before it has had time to reach the ground,
and turning upward catches it as it falls. It sometimes continues this
sport a quarter of an hour.

In the winter season, the seeds of the Tropic-birch (_Bursera_) appear
to constitute a large portion of the food of our Tyrannidæ. One day
in January, I observed two Petcharies on a birch-tree, fluttering in
an unusual manner, and stood to watch their proceedings. I found they
were feeding on the ripe berries, which they plucked off in a singular
manner. Each bird sitting on a twig, seized a berry in his beak, then
throwing back his head till he was in a perpendicular position, tugged
till the stalk gave way, his wings being expanded, and vibrated all
the while to prevent him from falling. Yet, even at this season, they
contrive to fill their craws with insects; for one which I dissected
the next day, had its stomach filled with hymenoptera and coleoptera,
among which were the fragments of a most brilliant little _Buprestis_,
the possession of which I envied it. I observed that the stomach
was protuberant below the sternum, as in the cuckoos. At this early
season, the time of incubation was near; for the ovary of this specimen
contained an egg as large as a small marble; and my lad who shot it,
told me that this one and its mate were toying and pursuing each
other around a tall manchioneel-tree, on one of whose upper limbs he
discovered a nest nearly finished.

The nest consists of a loose basket of dry stems of yam, and tendrils
of passion-flower, lined with a slight cup of horse-hair and fibres
from palmetto-leaves. Four or five eggs are laid, of a drab hue or
reddish-white, with blotches of reddish-brown and bluish irregularly
intermixed, but chiefly arranged in the form of a crown around the
larger end.

In the month of September they become, in common with their grey
congeners, a mere mass of fat, and are at this time in much request
for the table. They are supposed to acquire this fatness by feeding on
the honey-bees, which then resort in great numbers to the magnificent
bloom-spike of the cabbage-palm. Hither the Petchary also resorts, and
sitting on a frond captures the industrious insects as they approach.
At this time the large and branching spike of blossom, projecting
and then curving gracefully downwards, and looking as if exquisitely
moulded in white wax, is a very beautiful object; and the pollen from
the flowers is diffused so abundantly, that the ground beneath the
tree, appears exactly as if it had been visited by a snow-shower.

This appears to be the species alluded to by Robinson in the following
note. “They [the Tyrants, _Baristi_, as he calls them,] are all very
bold birds, especially the largest species called the Loggerhead, who
beats all kinds of birds indiscriminately; he is also the harbinger
of the morning, constantly giving notice of the approach of day by
his cry. When he is beating a Carrion Crow or other birds, he snaps
his bill very frequently; he is a very active, bold bird, and feeds
upon insects and lizards. I have seen him give chase to a lizard
round the trunk of a small tree, flying in circles with surprising
activity. In beating any large bird, both cock and hen (if both are
in the way,) join in the quarrel or scuffle.”[50] In these assaults,
the intrepid Petchary does not _always_ come off scathless. “And
here,” says Robinson in speaking of the Red-tailed Buzzard, “I
cannot help recollecting an unhappy though deserved ill-fate, which
sometimes befalls the large Loggerhead. Everybody is acquainted with
the pugnacious nature of this little bird; for he attacks and buffets
every large bird that happens to fall in his way, snapping his beak and
pursuing him with great violence; and among others this great Hawk is
often disturbed and beaten by him.

  [50] Robinson’s MSS. ii. 102.

“At Chestervale, in the cultivated ground, it is common for this Hawk
to perch upon the top of some dry tree. This situation he chooses that
he may the better view the ground beneath, and observe if a rat or
other animal should make its appearance. While he sits here upon the
watch, ’tis ten to one but he is attacked by the Loggerhead, whom he
suffers to buffet and beat him with great patience, without offering
to stir once from his place; till, his assailant being quite tired
and spent with the violence of his exercise, inadvertently sits down
on some twig not far distant from his passive, and, as he may think,
inoffensive enemy. That enemy, however, now keeps his eye fixed on him,
and no sooner does he begin to preen his feathers, or look carelessly
about him, than down pounces the Hawk suddenly upon him, seizes the
unwary bird in his talons, and devours him.”[51]

  [51] MSS.

The courage of the Tyrants in defence of their nests, is well known;
but it seems at times to become almost a mania. The late proprietor of
Mount Airy, in his daily walks about the estate, was attacked with such
virulence by a Petchary that was nesting, the bird actually pecking his
head, that he was compelled to take out a stick in defence, with which
he at length struck down the too valiant bird. Dogs seem especially
obnoxious to it, and this not only during incubation; at any time a
passing dog is likely to be assaulted by this fierce bird, and if he
be so unfortunate as to have any sore on his body, that is sure to be
the point of attack. One of my youths, a veracious lad, narrated to me
the following circumstance, to which he was witness. A large dog was
following his mistress through Mount Edgecumbe Pen, when a Petchary
flew virulently at him: on the shoulder of the dog was a large running
sore; to this the bird directed his attention: suspending himself
over the wound, he clutched with his extended feet as if he wished to
seize it thus, snapping angrily with his beak; then suddenly he pecked
the wound, while the dog howled in agony. The bird, however, repeated
its assaults exactly in the same manner, until the blood ran down the
shoulder from the wound; the dog all the while seemingly cowed and
afraid to run, but howling most piteously, and turning round to snap at
the bird. The woman was at some distance ahead, and took no notice;
and the war continued until my informant left. The Petchary continued,
in this case, on the wing; but frequently he alights on the dog to peck
him.

Both this and the Grey Petchary, when excited, open and shut the
coronal feathers alternately. When opened, the appearance is as if a
deep furrow had been ploughed through the plumage of the head, the
sides of which are vividly coloured. Occasionally this furrow is
opened in death, and remains so: one or two birds being brought me in
this condition, when my acquaintance with the species was slight, I
suspected that some of the feathers had been plucked out, in order to
enhance the value of the specimens by displaying the gayer colour. A
male of the present species, which I wounded one day in April, on my
taking it up, began to scream passionately, and to open and shut the
crown, biting ferociously; another from the same tree, probably his
mate, attracted by his cries, pursued me, endeavouring to peck me:
and when repelled, continued to gaze, stretching its neck anxiously,
whenever the screams were repeated.

In the quotation from Robinson’s MSS., page 180, the early habits of
this bird were noticed. On the same subject, Mr. Hill writes me, “I
know no bird-voice, not excepting ‘the cock’s shrill clarion,’ that is
earlier heard than the _pi-pi-pihou_ of the Loggerhead Tyrant. In my
neighbourhood several of the yards are planted with cocoa-nut trees. On
a very lofty cocoa palm to the north of me, a pair of Grey Petcharies
annually nestle in the month of April. On half a dozen less elevated
ones to the west of me, several Loggerheads take up their locations
as early as January, and build their nests there. I say January, as
that is their time for nestling, but I see them there ordinarily by
Christmas, and I hear the clang and clatter of their voices before;
but it is not till the turn of the year, that they unfailingly chant
every morning their peculiar reveillé; singing _pi-pi-pihou, pi-pi—,
pipi-pi-pihou_, for an hour from the firing of the Port Royal gun, a
little before five, till the sun is well up:—they then descend to some
of the lower vegetation round about, and alter their chant from the
more musical _pipi-pihou_, to a sort of scream of _pi-i-i-i-i-hou_,
for the space of about twenty minutes more; when they cease for the
day. It was this remarkable obtrusion of their chant upon the ear,
before day-break, in the shortest of our days, that led me to the
conclusion that they were the _Tyrannus matutinus_ of Vieillot. Buffon,
on remarking that no bird is earlier than the Black-headed Pipiri,
as he designates it, for he is assured that it is heard as soon as
the day begins to dawn, gives two or three striking notes from St.
Domingo correspondents, in which this fact is particularly recorded.
A Mr. Deshayes in his communication writes, that “the Pipiri seen in
the forest, and in ruinate lands, and in cultivated spots, thrives
everywhere; but more especially the Yellow-crested Pipiri, which is
the more multiplied species; that one delights in places that are
inhabited. In winter they draw near to houses, and as the temperature
of this season in these climates, has much the character of spring-time
in France, it would seem that the prevailing coolness and freshness
fills them with life and gaiety. Indeed never are they seen so full of
clatter, and so cheerful as in the months of November and December;
they then tease each other, and dash along somersetting (_voltigent_)
one after the other, as a sort of prelude to love-making.’” My friend
again writes me on the 30th of April:—“As I lay fever-wake on the
morning of the 27th, I heard again the Loggerhead Tyrant singing most
musically his day-dawn salutation of _pipi-pihou_. My sister, who
listened to the early songster too, thinks that +op+, +pp+, +p+, +q+,
is his morning lesson; and it is, perhaps, the closest resemblance to
his chant. He is a scholar after the fashion of modern Infant schools.
His alphabet and multiplication-table are a song. He repeated his
lesson the following morning, but I have slept so soundly since, that
I cannot say whether he has continued to wake to his learning at the
firing of the Port Royal gun.”


                           RED PETCHARY.[52]

           _Loggerhead._—_Great Crested Flycatcher._—+Wils.+

                          _Tyrannus crinitus._

          _Muscicapa crinita_,      +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 129.
          _Tyrannus crinitus_,      +Bonap.+

  [52] Length 9 inches, expanse 13¹⁄₄, flexure 4¹⁄₈, tail 4, rictus
  1²⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe ³⁄₄.

Though found in Jamaica through the winter, the Loggerhead is not then
very common; but in March many begin to frequent the groves, and trees
of the pastures; and may be observed pursuing each other in devious
flights, uttering a rattling cry, harsh, though not loud. As they
sit in a tree, they emit at intervals a loud _pirr_, in a plaintive
tone, ruffling the plumage, and shivering the wings at the same time.
Its general habits are those of its congeners, but it lacks their
pugnacity. Very large insects form its ordinary prey: one I shot in
the very act of taking a large _cicada_, while sitting on a twig, the
insect was still in its throat when killed. In November I have found
the stomach filled with the large red-berries of the Tropic birch.

Sam tells me he has found the nest of this bird, containing four young,
at the very bottom of a hollow stump, in a mountain district.


                           BLACK SHRIKE.[53]

                        _Judy._—_Mountain Dick._

                          _Tityra leuconotus._

          _Tityra leuconotus_,        +G. R. Gray.+—Gen. pl. 63.

  [53] Length 7¹⁄₂ to 8 inches, expanse 13, tail 3¹⁄₅, flexure 4,
  rictus 1¹⁄₁₀, breadth of beak at base ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe
  ³⁄₁₀.

Male. Irides, very dark hazel; beak black; feet blue-grey. Whole
plumage black, save that the bases of the scapulars are pure white,
forming a white band on each shoulder, generally concealed by the
plumage of the back. The throat and breast are of a paler hue, and
the upper parts are glossed with blue and green reflections. Female.
Head rich umber, softening into bay on the throat and breast; throat
whitish; back brownish grey; wing-feathers umber externally, blackish
medially, paler on the inner webs: tail blackish umber, paler beneath;
belly pale grey. Head large; crown feathers erectile. Intestine 9¹⁄₂
inches. Two cæca, rudimentary; like minute pimples.

This species, hitherto undescribed, is named and figured by Mr. G. R.
Gray, in his “Genera of Birds,” from specimens procured by myself. It
is not uncommon in the mountain districts of Jamaica, where, from the
remarkable diversity in the appearance of the male and female, they
are distinguished by separate local names. The black male is known by
the feminine appellation of Judy, while the chestnut-headed female
receives the masculine soubriquet of Mountain Dick. Mr. Gray, from
his acquaintance with the genus, I presume, was able to identify the
sexes by an examination of dried skins, while I was long in coming to
the same conclusion, from observation of the living birds. Yet I early
suspected it; their form and size were the same; their manners were
the same; their singular call was the same; they were almost always
found either actually in company, or else the one calling, and the
other answering, at a short distance from each other. It remained,
however, to prove the fact; and I accordingly dissected every specimen
that fell in my way, for many months; the result of which was that
every “Judy,” was a male; and that almost every “Mountain Dick” was
a female; to this latter there were but two exceptions; two in the
umber plumage were indubitably males, but in one of them, shot in
February, the dark brown hue of the head was almost obliterated, and
replaced by black, the tips and edges only of the feathers being brown.
Probably, the male of the first year bears the colours of the female, a
supposition afterwards confirmed.

Though more frequently seen at a considerable elevation from the sea,
we occasionally meet with these birds in the lowlands; they are,
however, rather recluse, affecting woods and lonely places. Here as
they hop from one twig to another, or sit hid in the foliage of a thick
tree, they utter a rapid, and not unmusical succession of notes, as if
attempting to compress them all into one. Some idea may be formed of
it, by playing _with one hand_ the following notes on a pianoforte.

[Music]

The notes are occasionally poured forth in the air as the bird
flits from tree to tree. But very commonly it is heard, without any
variation, from the male and female alternately, seated on two trees,
perhaps on the opposite sides of a road; thus:—The Mountain Dick calls,
and the Judy immediately answers; then a little pause;—another call
from the Mountain Dick, and an instant answer from Judy;—until, after
a few successions, the Judy gallantly yields the point, and flies over
to the other tree to join his friend. In February, I have heard it
repeating a note somewhat like _che-w_.

This species is bold and fierce in self-defence, the female no less
than the male. On several occasions, when I have shot, and but slightly
wounded, one, it would make vigorous efforts to escape by running;
but on being taken in the hand and held by the legs, it would elevate
the crown feathers, turn the head up and bite fiercely at my fingers,
seizing and pinching the flesh with all its force; striving at the
same time to clutch with its claws, and screaming vociferously. I
have never seen it pursue other birds in the aggressive manner of
the true Tyrants; nor, as far as I am aware, does it capture insects
in the air, notwithstanding that the rictus is defended by stiff
bristles. Stationary insects are usually the contents of the stomach,
particularly large bugs, (_Pentatoma_) and caterpillars, and sometimes
the eggs of insects. In the winter the berries of the _Bursera_ or
Tropic Birch, constitute a large portion of its food.

In April the Judy begins to arrange the domestic economy of the season;
and if the cradle of his young is not so elaborate a structure as
some others, it makes up in quantity what it lacks in quality. In
the latter part of this month, my negro lads, being on a shooting
excursion, observed on Bluefields Mountain, a domed nest, made
apparently of dried leaves, about as large as a child’s head, suspended
from the under side of a pendent branch of a tall tree. They watched
awhile to discover the owner, and presently saw the female of the
present species enter, and re-emerge, while the male was hopping
about the tree. A day or two after, I myself observed a similar nest,
similarly situated, beneath one of the pendent branches of a tall
cotton-tree, at Cave, on the road to Savanna-le-Mar. It appeared to
be composed of loose trash, rather a ragged structure, but evidently
domed, with the entrance near the bottom. Both the male and female
were playing and calling around it, and the latter at length went
in. On the 11th of May, passing that way again, I observed this nest
to be considerably larger, not less than a foot in diameter, as well
as I could judge from the great elevation; its outline, however, was
still ragged. I estimated the height of the nest to be between seventy
and eighty feet, though on the lowest branch of the tree, and that
pendent. Yet this Ceiba had not attained the giant dimensions common
to the species. A few days after this, Sam saw a third nest, formed
and placed exactly as in the former cases, so that I concluded this
to be the usual economy. A fourth example, however, showed me, that
the lofty elevation is not indispensable, as also that I had not yet
seen the largest specimens of the nests. On a branch of a small cedar
(_Cedrela_) that overhangs the high-road at Cave, I had noticed early
in June what appeared to be a heap of straw, tossed up by a fork and
lodged there, which the action of the weather had in some degree
smoothed at the top, the ends trailing downwards. One day, however,
as I was looking up at it, I saw the brown female of this species
emerge from the bottom, and presently return, entering at a narrow
hole beneath. As it was not more than twelve or fifteen feet from the
ground, I immediately sent my lads to climb the tree, and cut the
branch, which they accordingly brought me, with the huge nest attached.
The boys reported that it was empty, and that it had four entrances;
but on examination, I found that every one of these was merely a hollow
in the immense walls, produced by the receding of one part of the loose
materials from another. While they held it up in the position it had
occupied on the tree, I searched beneath for the true entrance; which,
when I had found it, I had much difficulty to find again, so concealed
was it by the long draggling ends of the mass. On inserting my finger,
however, I felt the soft and warm plumage of young birds, and pulled
out three, almost fully fledged. All three had the plumage of the
female, but one was manifestly darker than the others: if this was,
as I presume, a cock, the conclusion above, that the young male bears
the livery of the female, is confirmed. As I did not want the young,
I placed them on a lower limb of a large tree in the yard; and as, on
the next day, I saw two of them about the tree lively and active, and
as one flew a distance of, perhaps, thirty feet, I trust that they did
well, and survived their premature exposure to the world. To return to
the nest, however: I found it a loose, oblong mass, flattened on two
sides, measuring in height about two and a half feet, (though the ends
hung down to the length of four feet,) in width more than two feet,
and in thickness about one foot. It was composed almost entirely of
the stems and tendrils of passion flowers, mixed, however, and that
all through the structure, with bright-yellow, silky spiders’ nests,
and the downy filaments of some cottony herbs. The cavity was not
larger than a man’s two fists, and was not, in any measure, lined: it
descended within the entrance, though the latter faced the ground.


                       WHITE-EYED FLYCATCHER.[54]

                              _Sewy-sewy._

                        _Vireo Noveboracensis._

          _Musicapa Noveboracensis_,  +Gm.+—Aud. pl. 63.
          _Musicapa cantatrix_,       +Wils.+
          _Vireo Noveboracensis_,     +Bonap.+

  [54] Length 4¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 6⁵⁄₈, flexure 2⁸⁄₁₀, tail 2,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Intestine 4 inches, two
  minute, rudimentary cæca.

This modest little bird is not uncommon throughout the year. It
manifests little fear of approach, allowing one to come within a few
feet, as it peeps about among the twigs of low trees and shrubs. It
rather seems to have a good deal of curiosity, for it will peep at a
person approaching, and if he move slowly and avoid anything to provoke
alarm, will hop gradually down from twig to twig, stretching out its
neck, until it is almost within touch. Three or four will sometimes
chase each other among the branches, and from bush to bush, uttering at
intervals a monotonous chirruping. Its notes are very varied; sometimes
a loud _chewurr_, or _sweet-will_, uttered with deliberation and much
mellowness of tone. I have heard it in March uttering with surprising
loudness a single clear and shrill whistle, slightly modulated:
after a while it changed this to a double note, _to-whit, to-whit_,
equally loud and piercing. About the same season I have listened to
_che-che-che-churrrr_; and in May, _sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, tŏ-too_.

I have never found anything but seeds in the stomach of this bird;
though I do not doubt that it eats insects also.

The White-eyed Flycatcher is one of those species that are only
partially migratory; during the summer it spreads over the United
States. It is found throughout the year in our sultry island, though
with diminished numbers in the summer.


                           JOHN-TO-WHIT.[55]

       _Red-eyed Flycatcher._ +Wils.+—_Whip-Tom-Kelly._ +Sloane.+

                         _Vireosylva olivacea._

          _Muscicapa olivacea_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 150.
          _Vireosylva olivacea_,      +Bonap.+

  [55] Length 6¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 10, flexure 3¹⁄₄, tail 2³⁄₁₀,
  rictus ¹⁷⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁵⁄₁₀. Intestine 7¹⁄₂ inches;
  two minute cæca, merely rudimentary.

Much oftener heard than seen, though not unfamiliar to either sense,
this sober-coloured bird is one of those whose notes have such a
similarity to articulations as to procure them a common appellation.
The Flycatchers, in general, are not very vociferous, but this is
pertinacious in its tri-tonous call, repeating it with energy every
two or three seconds. It does not ordinarily sit on a prominent twig,
or dart out after insects, though I have seen one in eager, but
unsuccessful pursuit of a butterfly (_Terias_), but it seems to love
the centre of thick trees, where it sits announcing its presence, or
flits from bough to bough as you approach; so that it is not easy to
get a sight of it.

This bird does not winter with us, but leaves with the Grey
Petchary, at the beginning of October. It returns early, and
like the bird just named, evidently makes an eastward progress,
arriving at the south-west end of the island first. On the
26th of March, on my return to Bluefields, after a visit to
Spanish town, I heard its well-known voice, but my lad had
noticed it a week before. From this time, every grove, I might
almost say every tree, had its bird, uttering with incessant
iteration and untiring energy, from its umbrageous concealment,
_Sweet-John!—John-to-whit!—sweet-John-to-whit!—John-t’whit!—
sweet-John-to—whit!_—I can scarcely understand how the call can
be written “_Whip-Tom-Kelly_” as the accent, if I may so say, is
most energetically on the last syllable. Nor have I ever heard
this appellation given to it in Jamaica. After July we rarely hear
_John-to-whit_,—but, _to-whit—to-whoo_; and sometimes a soft simple
chirp, or _sip, sip_, whispered so gently as scarcely to be audible.
This, however, I have reason to believe, is the note of the young, for
I have heard young ones repeatedly utter it, when sitting on a twig,
receiving from time to time, with gaping beak, and quivering wing, the
food contributed by the dam.

The food of the John-to-whit is both animal and vegetable. In March I
have found in its stomach the seeds of the Tropic Birch, and in April
the berries of Sweet-wood, in an unripe state. In the same month, I
observed one hunting insects by the borders of Bluefields rivulet in
which I was bathing; and so intent was it upon its occupation, that it
allowed me to approach within a foot of it before it flew. It sought
insects successfully among the grass and low herbage, perching on
the stalks of the weeds, and jumping out after stationary, as well
as vagrant, prey. I observed it eat two spiders’ nests, which it
masticated, as if peculiarly savoury. As it sat, it vomited a little
white body, which I found to be the globose seed of the misseltoe berry.

Incubation takes place in June and July. The nest is rather a neat
structure, though made of coarse materials. It is a deep cup, about
as large as an ordinary tea-cup, narrowed at the mouth; composed of
dried grass, intermixed with silk-cotton, and sparingly with lichen and
spiders’ nests, and lined with thatch-threads. It is usually suspended
between two twigs, or in the fork of one, the margin being over-woven,
so as to embrace the twigs. This is very neatly performed. Specimens
vary much in beauty: one before me is particularly neat and compact,
being almost globular in form, except that about one-fourth of the
globe is wanting, as it is a cup. Though the walls are not thick,
they are very firm and close, the materials being well woven. These
are fibres of grass-like plants, moss, a few dry leaves, flat papery
spiders’ nests, with a little cotton or down for the over-binding
of the edges. It is lined smoothly with fibres, I know not of what
plant, as slender as human hair. Another nest, similarly formed, has
the cavity almost filled with a mass of white cotton, which looks as
if thrust in by man, but that those filaments of the mass that are in
contact with the sides, are interwoven with the other materials. As
it is picked cotton, it must be a bit stolen from some house or yard,
not plucked by the bird from the capsule. The eggs, commonly three in
number, are delicately white, with a few small red-brown spots, thinly
scattered over the surface, sometimes very minute and few. Their form
is a somewhat pointed oval, measuring ⁹⁄₁₀ inch, by rather less than
¹³⁄₂₀.


                  +Fam.+—AMPELIDÆ. (_The Chatterers._)

                              CEDAR-BIRD.

                        _Ampelis Carolinensis._

          _Bombycilla Carolinensis_,  +Briss.+—Aud. pl. 43.
          _Ampelis Americana_,        +Wils.+
          _Bombycilla cedrorum_,      +Vieill.+

For the history of this elegant bird, which has never fallen under my
notice in Jamaica, I refer to the American ornithologists. My reason
for noticing it here, is the following note of Mr. Hill’s.

“In severe winters on the continent, we have been visited by that
American species of the Waxwing usually called the Cedar-bird. I have
been informed that in the Christmas of 1836, several in a flock were
seen about the cashaw-trees of Spanish town. Nothing is known of their
habits with us, except that they were shy, and scudded about, a dozen
or twenty together, and very prominently displayed the scarlet,
wax-like ornaments resulting from the flattening of the shafts of the
secondary feathers of the wings.”


                             SOLITAIRE.[56]

          _Muscicapa armillata_,      +Vieillot.+
          _Myiadestes genibarbis_,    +Swainson.+
          _Ptilogonys armillatus_,    +G. R. Gray.+—Gen. B. pl. 69.

  [56] Length 8 inches; expanse 11¹⁄₂; flexure 3¹⁄₂; tail 3³⁄₄;
  rictus ⁸⁄₁₀; breadth of beak at base ⁴⁄₁₀; tarsus 1; middle toe
  ¹⁵⁄₂₀.

  Irides hazel, or dull orange; beak black; feet bright fulvous,
  claws black. Upper parts blue-grey; wing-quills black with grey
  edges, the bases of the interior primaries white, visible when
  expanded; the greater primary coverts, and that part of the
  primaries succeeding the white, deeper black, unedged with grey.
  Tail black, uropygials grey; a short white line near the tip of
  the inner web of the third true tail-feather from the middle,
  increases on each outwardly, till the fifth is almost wholly white.
  Cheeks black; a spot at base of lower mandible, and lower eyelid,
  white; chin and throat rust-red. Breast ashy-grey, paler on belly;
  vent and under tail-coverts rusty orange. Edge of shoulder white.
  Intestine 7 inches: two cæca, so small as to be almost rudimentary.
  Sexes alike.

Wandering among the woods on the summit of the mountain ridge that
rises behind Bluefields, I had often heard in the spring, proceeding
from the deep forests, a single clear note, lengthened and mellow as
the tone of a flute, sometimes alone, sometimes followed by another,
about two tones lower. The notes were singularly sweet, and their
sudden recurrence at rather long intervals, in the lone and sombre
silence of that lofty elevation, imparted to them a romantic character,
which made me very desirous to discover their author. As the summer
came on, however, I ceased to hear them: but in the beginning of
October, as I was wandering again in the same locality, I was again
startled by the interesting sounds. As I proceeded on the very lonely
road, through the humid woods, where the trees were loaded with
orchideæ and wild-pines, and the dank stones hidden by ferns and
mosses, the notes became more frequent and evidently nearer. It being
useless for a white man, with shoes, to attempt to follow retiring
birds among the matted woods, tangled and choked with climbers, and
strewn with loose stones, I sent in Sam with a gun, with orders to
follow the sound. He crept silently to a spot whence he heard it
proceed, and saw two birds of this species, which neither he nor I
had seen before, chasing each other among the boughs. He shot one
of them. As he was coming out into the road, he imitated the sound
by whistling, and was immediately answered by another bird, which
presently came flying to the place where he was, and alighted on a tree
at a little distance. He fired at this also, and it fell; but emitted
the remarkable note at the moment of falling.

But it is at early day,—when the dew lies so heavily on the
broad-leafed cocoes of the provision grounds, that from every leaf
you might collect a gill of sparkling water; while the mosses and
ground-ferns are moist as a saturated sponge; before the sun has
peeped over the distant mountain-peaks, and before the light has
struggled into the gloomy forest on either side;—it is at early day,
that if we traverse some narrow rocky bridle-path that winds around the
hill-sides, choked up with jointer and glass-eye berry, and overhung
by towering Santa Marias, cabbage-palms, and tree-ferns, we become
familiar with this interesting bird. The voices of many are then heard
saluting the opening day, some near at hand, some scarce audible in the
distance; and as all do not pipe in the same key, we sometimes hear
beautiful and startling chords produced. Although there is a richness
in the tones, which the human voice in whistling can by no means
attain, yet the birds will frequently respond to an imitation of their
call. Now and then we may obtain a sight of one, or a pair, as they
seem generally in pairs, sitting, with a melancholy absorbed air, on
some low tree a little way within the forest, manifesting little alarm
or curiosity.

It was soon after I became acquainted with this bird that I received
the following note from Mr. Hill: in reference to an intention which I
then had of ascending that magnificent ridge called the Blue Mountains,
whose summits are 8000 feet high.—“There are two living attractions
in these mountains, a crested snake, and a sweetly mysterious singing
bird called the Solitaire. This bird is a Thrush, and it is worth a
journey to hear his wonderful song. I find among some detached notes
of mine, the following memorandum respecting a similar bird in the
smaller West Indian islands. ‘The precipitous sides of the Souffriere
mountain in St. Vincent,’ says a writer describing the volcano which
so disastrously broke out there in 1812, ‘were fringed with various
evergreens, and aromatic shrubs, flowers, and many Alpine plants. On
the north and south sides of the base of the cone were two pieces of
water, one perfectly pure and tasteless, the other strongly impregnated
with sulphur and alum. This lonely and beautiful spot was rendered
more enchanting by the singularly melodious notes of a bird, an
inhabitant of those upper solitudes, and altogether unknown to the
other parts of the island; hence supposed to be invisible, though it
certainly has been seen, and is a species of merle.’ I extract my notes
on the Haytian bird: though I have seen Jamaica specimens, I never
visited their mountain haunts. ‘As soon as the first indications of
day-light are perceived, even while the mists hang over the forests,
these minstrels are heard pouring forth their wild notes in a concert
of many voices, sweet and lengthened like those of the harmonica
or musical glasses. It is the sweetest, the most solemn, and most
unearthly of all the woodland singing I have ever heard. The lofty
locality, the cloud-capt heights, to which alone the eagle soars in
other countries,—so different from ordinary singing-birds in gardens
and cultivated fields,—combine with the solemnity of the music to
excite something like devotional associations. The notes are uttered
slowly and distinctly, with a strangely-measured exactness. Though
it is seldom that the bird is seen, it can scarcely be said to be
solitary, since it rarely sings alone, but in harmony or concert
with some half-dozen others chanting in the same glen. Occasionally
it strikes out into such an adventitious combination of notes, as to
form a perfect tune. The time of enunciating a single note, is that of
the semi-breve. The quaver is executed with the most perfect trill.
It regards the major and minor cadences, and observes the harmony of
counter-point, with all the preciseness of a perfect musician. Its
melodies, from the length and distinctness of each note, are more hymns
than songs. Though the concert of singers will keep to the same melody
for an hour, each little coterie of birds chants a different song, and
the traveller by no accident ever hears the same tune.’” In another
letter he says, “Buffon notices the Solitaire under the title of the
Organist. He thus speaks of it,—‘In St. Domingo the name of _Organist_
has been given to this little bird, because, in ascending from grave
to sharp, it sounds all the tones of the octave. It is not only very
singular but very agreeable. Chevalier Fabre Deshayes writes, that,
in the southern parts of St. Domingo in the high mountains, there is
a very rare but very celebrated bird, called the _Musician_, whose
song can be set down by notes. The Musician of M. Deshayes, it is to
be presumed, is the same with our Organist.[57] In M. Page Dupretz’s
History of Louisiana, there is a description of a small bird which they
call the Bishop, and which we believe to be the same with our Organist.
Its plumage being blue passing into violet, it has hence obtained the
name of Bishop. It is so sweet-throated, so flexible in its tones, and
so soft in its warblings, that those who once hear it become somewhat
measured in their praises of the Nightingale. The notes of its song are
lengthened out like those of a _miserere_. Whilst it sings it does not
seem to draw breath; but it rests a double time before it recommences,
and this alternation of singing and resting will be continued for two
hours.’”

  [57] There is some confusion here. Our Solitaire has no resemblance
  to “L’Organiste de St. Domingue,” Pl. Enl. 809, (_Pipra musica_ of
  Gmel. and Lath.) nor to “L’Euphone Organiste” of Vieillot (Gal.
  Ois.) which is an Euphonia, allied to our Blue Quit, (see p. 238,)
  but with brighter colours. I incline to think that Deshayes is
  writing of our bird; but certainly not the others, unless they
  attribute the notes erroneously.

When I received these notes from my friend, and had identified my
bird with his description, I had never heard more than two notes in
succession. Curiosity impelled me to visit their lofty solitudes often
through the winter, and at length on the 3rd of February, when they
were abundant, I heard three successive notes of different tones,
proceed from the same bird; exactly like so many notes of a psalm,
played in slow time. And about three weeks later, I find this note
in my journal; I have at length heard the _song_ of the Solitaire;
the long clear notes, followed by many others of varying length, and
different tones, but separated by pauses rather too long to make a
piece of music, causing the whole to seem disjointed; but with much
sweetness. If I may conjecture, these true melodies are peculiar to
the nuptial season, and indicate that the period of incubation is
either begun or near; a time that generally exerts much influence on
the singing of birds.

From that time they filled the woods with their solemn music, until
April; when they began to become scarce, and by the middle of May not
one was to be heard or seen. I concluded that they were migratory, and
had now departed from the island for the summer; but on mentioning the
fact to Mr. Hill, he informed me about the beginning of June, that a
friend of his who had travelled through the Coona-coonas a day or two
before, (a district of the Blue Mountains, in which Mr. Purdie heard
them in his botanical tour, and at the same season,) had heard them
singing by scores. And he adds, “My Haytian notes relate to two visits
to the mountains they inhabit in that neighbour island; the first was
in August, the second in June; and they were there in the lofty pine
forests in hundreds.” The curious fact of the total disappearance of
the species from the Bluefields Peaks during the summer, while yet
present in the island, leads me to conjecture, that they may be subject
to the same instinct as influences migratory birds, but leading them
to seek a colder climate, not in a northern latitude, but in a loftier
elevation. The Peaks of Bluefields, though the highest land in the
western part of the island, are not more than 2600 feet high, and
therefore far less elevated than the ridges of the eastern end.

As far as I know, the food of the Solitaire is exclusively berries:
I have never found an insect in the stomachs of many that I have
dissected. Mr. Hill found in one, the berries of a mountain Rubus,
like the blackberry. In the Autumn, I have detected those of the
misseltoe, but more commonly those called glass-eye berries, from their
constituting the chief food of the Merle of that name. In February, the
pimento groves, which cover the mountain-brow are loaded with fruit,
not soft and sweet and black, as when ripe, but hard and green, and
in the very state in which it is picked to be dried for commerce. The
temptation of these berries draws the Solitaires from their seclusion,
and we not only hear their clear notes trilled from every part of the
groves, but see them familiarly eating, at the edges of the pastures,
and by the roadsides. It is worthy of remark that their companions
in retirement, the Glass-eyes, accompany them also in these feeding
excursions, and partake of the feast. I found the stomachs of both
species at this season, loaded with the green pimento.

The two specimens which first came into my hands, early in October,
manifested signs of a seasonal change of plumage. One had the head
prettily covered with pale rusty spots, each feather being thus tipped:
several of the body feathers were similarly tipped. This was moulting,
and I perceived that it was the old feathers which were tipped, the
new ones being uniformly grey, whence I infer the spotted character to
be that of the summer dress, perhaps extending to all the clothing
feathers. The other specimen exhibited the same peculiarity, but in a
less degree.

[Music]

I have much pleasure in adding the following note contained in a letter
from my friend, received since my arrival in England. Mr. Hill, having
made some inquiries of a gentleman residing among the Blue Mountains,
Andrew G. Johnston, Esq., received the following reply:—“I have no copy
of my musical score of the Solitaire’s song. The bird _now_ [July 27th]
uses only its long breve notes [Music] and its octave, often out of
tune, more often so than perfect. In the spring they are very numerous
in the deep forests, and warble very prettily, somewhat like this:—

[Music]

sometimes thus— [Music]

The pointed crotchets are very sweet sounds, and seem to sound
[symbol]E—vil [symbol]evil. I tried in vain to get one this spring,
but I find the negroes know nothing about them. Hearing them one day
singing, I asked two maroon-men who also listened, what birds they
were. One said _a grey speckled bird, mottled like a guinea-fowl_: the
other that it was black, and red about the rump and under the wings.”
My conjectures on both points, are thus confirmed. I may add that the
most common notes that I have heard are these.

[Music: _tr_ _tr_]

Vieillot, who first described the species by the name of _Muscicapa
armillata_, says that “it inhabits the Antilles, but is very rare in
the greater islands.” His figure, pl. 42, is poor, both as regards form
and colour. Mr. Swainson’s figure of _Myiadestes genibarbis_, (Nat.
Lib. Flycatchers, pl. 13,) _if meant_ for this species, is better as
to colouring, but neither its form nor attitude is correct. Moreover,
as he says, its body is not much larger than that of the robin, and
mentions white lines on the black ear-coverts, it is with me a matter
of doubt; especially as he speaks of the intimate resemblance which
it bears to our common robin, “not merely in the red colour of the
throat,” but in form; a resemblance certainly not discoverable in the
living bird.

The figure in Mr. Gray’s Genera of Birds was drawn from one of the
specimens procured by me in Jamaica, and is in winter plumage.


                     +Fam.+—CORVIDÆ.—(_The Crows._)

                         BLACK-HEADED JAY.[58]

                         _Cyanocorax pileatus._

          _Corvus pileatus_,          +Ill.+—Pl. col. 58.

  [58] Length 14 inches, tail 5⁸⁄₁₀, rictus 1²⁄₁₀, tarsus 2²⁄₁₀,
  middle toe 1⁵⁄₁₀.

This fine bird was brought to Mr. Hill, about the end of the year
1844, from the mountains of St. Andrews, by a negro who stated that
he had caught it near Newcastle. Its wings were cut; which at once
excited the suspicion that it had been a caged bird, but, on a moment’s
examination, it was perceived that its perfect cleanness and the
smoothness of its plumage decisively indicated a state of freedom and
wildness. The man stated that having caught it alive in the garden of
his cottage, which, (from the circumstance that the cottage-gardens,
in the precipitous mountains, often run into narrow cliffs and
corners, environed as if by enormous walls,) he might readily do, he
had endeavoured to keep it alive, and had clipped both its wings for
its detention. After a few days, however, it died, probably for want
of proper food, and he brought it to Kingston, to dispose of it for a
trifle.

I find by reference to Temminck, Pl. col., that this specimen, now in
my possession, is a female; the male has the belly yellowish. His
figure is also a female. He ascribes the species to Brazil and Paraguay.


                          JABBERING CROW.[59]

                            _Gabbling Crow._

                         _Corvus Jamaicensis._

          _Cornix Jamaicensis_,       +Briss.+
          _Corvus Jamaicensis_,       +Gmel.+

  [59] Length 16¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 28, flexure 9¹⁄₂, tail 5³⁄₄,
  rictus 2, tarsus 2, middle toe 1¹⁄₂. Intestine 30 inches; two cæca,
  situated close together, on the inferior side of the rectum, about
  ¹⁄₂ inch from cloaca; ⁶⁄₁₀ inch long, slender. Irides greyish hazel.

In the wildest parts of the mountain regions of Jamaica, where the
perilous path winds round a towering cone on the one hand, and on the
other looks down into a deep and precipitous gully; or where a narrow
track, choked up with tree-ferns on which the vertical sun looks only
at noon-day, leads through the dark and damp forest to some lonely
negro ground, the traveller is startled by the still wilder tones of
the Jabbering Crow. So uncouth and yet so articulate, so varied in
the inflexions of their tones, are these sounds, that the wondering
stranger can with difficulty believe he is listening to the voice of
a bird, but rather supposes he hears the harsh consonants, and deep
guttural intonations of some savage language. All the Crows are
garrulous, and several are capable of tolerable imitations of human
speech, but the present is the only example I am aware of, in which
the language of man is resembled by a bird in a state of nature. The
resemblance, however, is rather general than particular; every one
who hears it is struck with its likeness to speech, though he cannot
detect any known words: it is the language of a foreigner. One cannot
easily convey an idea of the sounds by writing; but the following
fragments which the negroes have been able to catch from the learned
bird’s own mouth, will give some notion of their character. “Walk fast,
crāb! do buckra work.—Cuttacoo[60] better than wallet.” It must not be
supposed that these words uniformly represent the sounds; these and
similar combinations of harsh consonants and broad vowels, are varied
_ad infinitum_, as are also the tones in which they are expressed. For
myself, I have thought them ludicrously like the very peculiar voice
of Punch in a puppet-show; others have fancied in them half-a dozen
Welshmen quarrelling. These strange sounds are generally poured forth
in _sentences_, of varying length, from the summit of some lofty tree,
or in the course of the bird’s passage from one to another.

  [60] A _cuttacoo_ is a negro’s little hand-basket.

In some parts of the mountains they are not uncommon, though their
loquacity would induce us to think them more numerous than they are,
for we rarely see more than two or three at once. They are social,
but not gregarious; and much of their time is spent in visiting
successively the summits of those trees that tower above the rest
of the forest, the Santa-Maria, the bread-nut, the broad-leaf, and
the cotton-tree. As these visitations are often performed alone,
I imagine that the gabbling cries are calls to their companions,
especially as, if another comes within hearing, he is pretty sure to
visit his clamorous brother, and enter into noisy conversation with
him. After spending a few minutes on one tree, during which they do
not, _generally_, change their position, otherwise than by walking
deliberately along the branch, they both wing their way to the
next station, not side by side, but one a little behind the other,
both calling as they go. The bleached and bare limbs of a dry tree
are always selected, when one of the requisite elevation is within
range, as affording most fully that which they seem to delight in,
an unobstructed prospect. Sometimes they do alight on lower trees,
but then they are very wary and suspicious, so that it is a difficult
matter to get within shot of one. When out of gun range, which they
seem to estimate pretty accurately, they are much more careless of
a passing stranger. Their flight is heavy and slow. They scarcely
ever desert the solitudes of the mountains; two thousand feet is the
lowest limit at which I have known them, with two exceptions. The one
is that in certain lofty woods surrounding the extensive morass in
Saltspring Pen, near Black river, I have heard the voices of these
birds clamorously uttered, in the latter part of November. The other
instance occurred behind Pedro Bluff, but little above the level of the
sea, where I heard this bird in June.

The food of the Jabbering Crow is principally vegetable. Of several
shot in autumn, the stomachs contained various berries, some fleshy,
others farinaceous. The stomach is a muscular sac, but not a gizzard.
Descending in the early months of the year to the ripening sour sops,
on which it feeds, it is then much more approachable, but at the same
time more silent. And about the same time, the seed of the bitter wood
is ripe, which also attracts him. One of these trees is in the yard of
a house at Content, where I occasionally sojourned; this was generally
visited at dawn of day, and sometimes in the evening, by the Crows. I
have been amused by the intelligence which they manifest in approaching
it: a company of two or three will come into the neighbourhood,
and alight with much clamour on some tree in the woods, a few rods
distant; we hear no further sound, but presently one and another are
seen stealing on silent wing to the bitter-wood, where they nibble the
berries in all stillness and quiet. I could not help thinking that the
noisy and ostentatious alighting on the first tree was but a feint
to prevent suspicion, as if they should say, “Here we are, you see;
this is the place that we frequent.” And this, I am informed, is not
an accidental case, but a habit. The pimento also, which in its green
state is eaten by so many of our birds, tempts the Jabbering Crow in
February from his forest fastnesses, to the low but dense groves that
clothe the mountain brows.

An intelligent person has informed me, that it will take advantage of a
small bird’s being entangled in a withe, to kill and eat it; and that
when a boy, amusing himself by setting springes for small birds, he has
occasionally known them to be taken out of the springe by the Jabbering
Crow. These statements, at least as far as the animal appetite is
concerned, are in some measure confirmed by an experiment with one
I had alive. One day in December, hearing a strange querulous sound
proceeding from the top of the woods near me, I sent Sam to find the
cause. He ascertained it to proceed from one of two Jabbering Crows,
perched side by side on the top of a tree; the vociferous one being
evidently young, though in full plumage, and capable of flight, for it
was shivering its wings, while with open beak receiving something from
the mouth of the other, doubtless its parent. He shot the old one, and
slightly wounding it in the wing, brought it to the ground, where it
ran so vigorously, that he had difficulty in securing it. It was rather
formidable too; for it clutched his hand with its claws so forcibly, as
to give pain; and afterwards, as I was holding it, it nipped my finger
with the point of its powerful beak, and took the piece out. When
turned into a room, it climbed about the various objects, by walking,
and taking considerable jumps, striving to gain the highest elevation
it could attain, where it sat, moody, but watchful. I presented to
it the flesh of one side of the breast of a bird just skinned. He
seized it greedily, and, after carrying it about a little, attempted
to swallow it. In this he did not succeed without many efforts, as the
piece was large: he several times tried to toss it while in his beak,
and also drew it out by setting his foot on it, and took it in another
position; but seemed to have no power of dividing it.

Robinson says, “They are great devourers of ripe plantains and bananas,
and also rob the wild pigeons of their eggs and young. When tame, they
are very droll and diverting, and as arrant thieves as our Jackdaws
and Magpies, stealing knives, spoons, thimbles, &c., and hiding them.
They abandon all such plantations as have the woods much cleared away
from them, of which there have been many instances. They are often seen
stooping down and drinking the water that is deposited in the bosom
of the leaves of the largest wild pines. When employed in stealing
plantains, they are said to be very silent, but at other times are
the most loquacious, noisy animals breathing. I have been informed
by some very creditable persons, that they will attack and destroy a
yellow-snake; their method is to fly upon him one after another, and
tearing away a mouthful of his skin and flesh, retreat. This they do
with great nimbleness, and with impunity, till they have devoured the
poor animal alive.” (MSS.)

Once in walking in a very lonely wood, I came suddenly on a Jabbering
Crow sitting on a low tree just over my head; the bird was evidently
startled, and in the surprise quite lost its _presence of mind_; for
instead of making off with the usual clamour, it flew mute to another
low tree a few yards off, where it sat peeping at me in silence, until
I shot it.

I have never met with the nest; but a young friend, to whom I am
indebted for several interesting facts, tells me, that about the
beginning of last June, he was accustomed to see a pair on a very lofty
cotton-tree, which he thought were nesting. He repeatedly saw them go
and “lie down,” as he expressed it, in a large bunch of wild-pine,
where they would remain for some time; and when one flew out, the
other, which had been sitting on the same tree, would go and sit in the
place. Usually the bird will leave its position on the slightest alarm,
but when either of these was in its hollow, nothing would induce it
to fly. He on one occasion fired thrice at the sitting bird, but she
would not leave her place, and the situation was too lofty for the shot
to reach her. The approach of the birds to the wild-pine was always
perfectly silent and cautious; but they would dart out on any other
bird flying near, and drive it away with clamour. On the whole, I have
no doubt that this pair had a nest in the wild-pine.

The same young friend once witnessed a singular rencontre between two
Jabbering Crows, and two Red-tail Buzzards, and in this case it is
probable that parental solicitude gave the desperate courage. A single
Hawk flying along was pounced upon by a Crow from a neighbouring tree,
and a flying fight commenced, the Hawk thrusting forth his talons
in endeavour to clutch, in which he once succeeded, and the Crow
repeatedly striking his enemy forcibly with his sharp and powerful
beak. Now and then each would rise perpendicularly and pounce down
upon the other: this was principally but not solely, the manner of
the Buzzard, the Crow usually striking his blow, and then retreating
obliquely. After some time a second Hawk approached, which was attacked
by another Crow; and now the melée went on in the same manner between
the four combatants. The conflict lasted near ten minutes, and at
length terminated in favour of the Crows, who fairly drove their
opponents off the aerial field, pursuing them with pertinacity to a
great distance. At the moment of my writing down this account, it
was in a measure confirmed by my actually observing a Jabbering Crow
pursuing with insult a Buzzard over the woods: it was strange to see,
that after he had returned from the pursuit, he himself was attacked by
a little Petchary, to whose superior prowess he was fain to yield, and
flee in his turn.

In the latter part of May and early in June, which I presume to be the
season of incubation, the singular chattering is almost relinquished
for a much more monotonous cawing, somewhat like the note of the Rook,
but uttered more pertinaciously, and more _impatiently_.

Robinson states that “they build their nest with slender twigs in the
manner of Rooks on the tops of lofty trees, but not more than two
nests on one tree. When they have young they will suffer nobody to
take them, assaulting the bold invader with great courage and much
clamour, fiercely buffeting his face with their wings, at the same
time endeavouring to pluck out his eyes with their strong beaks.” He
elsewhere states that “they are said to build in hollow trees.” (MSS.)

The flesh is not eaten; but having a curiosity to taste it, I had one
broiled. The flesh of the breast was well-tasted and juicy, but so
dark, tough, and coarse-grained, that I should readily have mistaken it
for _beef_.

I found the tracheal muscles of this bird large and globose.


                  +Fam.+—STURNIDÆ.—(_The Starlings._)

                          TINKLING GRAKLE.[61]

                   _Tin-tin._—_Barbadoes Blackbird._

                    _Quiscalus crassirostris._—+Sw.+

  [61] Length 12¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 18¹⁄₄, flexure 6, tail 5³⁄₁₀,
  rictus 1⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀. Intestine 12 inches;
  two cæca ¹⁄₆ inch long, ¹⁄₂ inch from cloaca. Irides cream-white.

The appearance, voice, and habits of this bird had pretty well
convinced me of its distinctness from _Q. versicolor_, before I was
aware that Mr. Swainson had described it in “Two centenaries and a
quarter,” p. 355. From the length of his specimen, it is probable the
tail was not fully developed.

This is one of the first birds which a stranger notices: his
conspicuous size and glossy plumage, his familiar business-like
manners, and his very peculiar metallic cry, at once attract
attention. Gregarious, but not associating in very great numbers to
feed, they frequent pastures and open grounds in search of insects,
not often hopping, (though I have seen one hop,) but walking with a
swaggering gait, like rooks and crows. When on the ground their time
is chiefly occupied in searching about among the roots of the grass.
It is most amusing to stand where one is not observed, at a few yards’
distance from a Tinkling at work, and to watch the unremitted industry
with which he labours. He marches rapidly to and fro, turning his head
in all directions, peeping eagerly hither and thither, now turning
one eye to a spot, now the other, ever and anon thrusting into the
earth the beak, which is then forcibly opened to loosen the soil. He
drags many morsels forth, which he quickly swallows, and searches for
more. I suspect earthworms and various larvæ that live at the roots of
grass are the objects of his research. Amidst his constant occupation,
he does not omit, however, to keep an eye warily on any suspicious
object. Only shew your person, and you see the singular-looking white
eye turned up towards you; stir a step towards him, and away he flies,
uttering his very peculiar cry, his long tail folded on itself, and
resembling a vertical fan. As he sits on a tree, he will now and then
elevate the fan-like tail, ruffle up the plumage, throw back the head,
and with the beak wide open, utter two or three most singular notes,
which I can compare to nothing but the sounds produced by repeatedly
striking with force a piece of sonorous metal, relieved occasionally
by the creaking of a schoolboy’s pencil upon a slate. “There are,”
observes Mr. Hill, “two or three fine modulations, followed by a sudden
break down into the harsh grating sounds of the ungreased wheels of a
heavy-loaded truck.” It is to the first of these notes that the bird
before us owes his local names of Tinkling, Tintin, Clinkling, and,
among the Spaniards of St. Domingo, Chinchiling.

Like the Ani, the Tinkling feeds on the parasites of cattle. Walking
among them, and mounting on their backs, they pick off the ticks that
so sadly infest the poor beasts, who, as if appreciating the service,
offer not the slightest molestation to their kind friends. I one day
observed a Tinkling thus engaged in feeding her offspring. It was in
the picturesque pasture of Peter’s Vale, where kine were numerous.
Beneath the grateful shade of a spreading mango, in the heat of the
day, a cow was peacefully ruminating. At her feet was the old Tinkling,
walking round and looking up at her, with an intelligent eye. Presently
she espied a tick upon the cow’s belly, and leaping up, seized it in
her beak. Then marching to her sable offspring, who stood looking on
a few yards off, she proceeded to deliver the savoury morsel into the
throat of her son, who had gaped to the utmost stretch of his throat
in eager expectation, even before his mother was near him. This done,
she returned, and again walking round, scrutinized the animal’s body,
but discovering nothing more, flew up on the cow’s back and commenced
an investigation there. Just at this moment something alarmed her,
and both mother and son flew to a distant tree. It was at the same
time, and in the same pasture, that I observed a number of these birds
collected in a large bastard-cedar that overhung a shallow pool; to
which one and another were continually descending, and bathing with
great apparent enjoyment; after which each flew to a sunny part of the
tree, and fluttered and pecked, and ruffled its plumage, that it might
dry smoothly and equally.

Mr. Hill has observed at Fort Dauphin, on the north side of St.
Domingo, the Tinkling feeding in flocks of two hundred or more. The low
grounds around the harbour, consisting of many shallow marly hollows
are overflowed by the tide, after the prevalence of strong north winds,
reducing them to marshes. Many marine _mollusca_, &c. congregating in
these hollows, are left, by the water evaporating, to putrefy: the
vicinity is hence very unhealthy, but hither the Tinklings resort in
large flocks to feed on the decaying animal matters, with which the
mud is filled. And in Jamaica, my friend has witnessed flocks of these
birds equally numerous, winging their way, in March, towards Passage
Fort, an embouchure subject to a similar inundation, on which they
appeared to descend.

The food of our Grakle I believe to consist almost, if not quite
exclusively, of insects, worms, &c. Yet I have seen one in March eating
a Seville orange on the tree, tugging out large portions of the pulp,
and swallowing them. But the stomach of this very specimen, which I
shot in the act, was full of comminuted insects. As it was in the midst
of very dry weather, the object may have been the quenching of its
thirst. Robinson in describing the Corato, (_Agave keratto_) notices a
fondness of this bird for its nectar, which may perhaps be similarly
explained. He says of this magnificent plant, (MSS. I. 76.) “the
flowering stem begins to rise about Christmas, and in the beginning of
March, the flowers open. The Mocking-birds are fond of the honey found
at the base of this flower; the Barbadoes Blackbirds are also fond of
it, and between these birds happen great dissensions and bickerings. If
the Blackbirds, which are naturally very loquacious, would fare well,
and hold their tongues, they might feed unmolested. But their incessant
chattering attracts the attention of the Mock-birds, who having at that
time young ones, and being doubly jealous, assault the Blackbirds with
great fierceness and vigour, soon obliging them to quit the plant, and
hide themselves among the trees and bushes.”

Of two which I shot in January, the stomach of one presented a singular
appearance, being stuffed with green herbage, like very fine grass,
chopped excessively small. I had noticed several caterpillars among the
mass, but it was not until I dispersed it in water, that I discovered
it to consist of the contents of the caterpillars’ stomachs, expressed
by the muscular action of the gizzard. There were no less than nineteen
caterpillars, all smooth, and I think grass-eating kinds, some of
which still contained portions of comminuted herbage. The stomach of
the other contained about as many caterpillars, besides other larvæ,
some spiders, a moth, and other insects.

Regularly at nightfall, during the summer, I used to see many parties
of Tinklings fly over Bluefields, with the usual vociferation, and
wend their way to a spreading cotton-tree near the seaside, where, I
was informed, they slept; whence, as regularly one might see them,
in the early morning, emerging and dispersing to their places of
diurnal occupation. One evening I went down to watch their arrival and
proceedings. About half-an-hour before sunset, they began to arrive
in straggling parties, but did not proceed at once to their roosting
place, but congregated in a clump of smaller trees, about one hundred
and fifty yards from it, on the banks of Bluefields River, where they
clamoured in all sorts of metallic tones with unceasing vociferation.
Some parties from a distance, coming straight to the roost, suddenly
altered their course, attracted by the calls of these intermediate
settlers, and joined them, and some even returned to them, which had
already passed the spot. A few, however, went on to their destination,
and when once some were there, their numbers soon increased, for the
calling now proceeded from both quarters. As the parties arrived,
one or two single birds kept flying from one station to the other,
backwards and forwards. At length the whole assembled number on the
intermediate station rose as by common consent, and flew in an immense
flock to the number of nearly two hundred, to the roosting place,
darkening the air, and making a loud rushing with their united wings.
Others went on to arrive, until between four and five hundred, (I could
not count very accurately) had assembled. Long before this, however, I
had found that the real roosting place was not the large cotton-tree,
that this was but another station of congregation, for as the evening
advanced, they began to leave this, and to perch on the fronds of
four or five cocoa-nut palms that were growing in two lines, of which
the cotton-tree was the angle. The nearest trees to this point were
first chosen, and few chose the second, till the first was pretty well
crowded, nor the third till the second was occupied, and finally the
numbers on each cocoa-nut were in proportion to its proximity to the
central point.

The taking of places was attended with much squabbling; the alighting
of each new comer on a frond, causing it to swing so as greatly to
discompose the sitters already in possession, and throw them off their
balance; and hence each was received by his fellows with open beaks,
and raised wings to prevent his landing. Still, many thrust themselves
in among others, pecking right and left in self-defence. The highest
horizontal fronds were most in demand, and many of these had at the
close as many as ten or twelve birds each, sitting side by side in a
sable row. When once the birds had left the cotton-tree, and selected
their places on the palms, they did not return, but places were
shifted continually. During the whole time their singular voices were
in full cry, and could be heard at a great distance; some idea may be
formed of the effect of the whole, by imagining two or three hundred
small table bells of varying tones to be rung at the same time. By
half-an-hour after sunset, the arrivals had pretty well ceased, and
most of the birds were quietly settled for the night. I visited them
on one or two subsequent evenings, but found no material difference in
their proceedings.

As the Tinkling roosts in society, so does it build. The nests, to
the number of twenty or thirty, are placed in a single tree, usually
a hog-plum, (_Spondias graveolens_). One of these trees, chosen every
year as a nesting tree, being on the property of a friend, a nest,
one of fourteen then built, was brought down for my inspection. It
consists of a deep, compact, and well-formed cup, the hollow of which
is as large as a pint basin; the sides, about an inch and a half
thick, formed of flexible stems of weeds, and stalks of guinea grass.
It contained three eggs, measuring 1¹⁄₁₀ inch by ⁸⁄₁₀, of a dull pale
blue-green, singularly marked with sinuated lines of black. I am
assured that when the company have hatched their broods for the season,
they tear away with their feet the nests, and scatter the materials;
and that should any other bird have a nest on the same tree, it is
mercilessly destroyed with the rest, regardless of the eggs or young
which it may contain. The nests are placed on the forks of divergent
branches, near the end of horizontal limbs, at a considerable
elevation.

Mr. Hill informs me, on the authority of a friend from Barbadoes,
that in that island a strange custom prevails among the children, of
collecting these birds about Shrove Tuesday in every year, and bringing
them into the towns, where they then play with them, and feed them
with cockroaches. The origin or the object of this annual amusement
my friend’s informant could not explain, having left that island when
himself a child. The same gentleman has observed the Tinklings in
Jamaica go to the lime trees, and descending beneath the trees pick up
in their beaks the fallen fruits; then rising to a twig, each would
take its lime in one foot, and gently rub it over its side beneath the
wing, transfer it to the other foot, and rub the other side in the same
way: the object here being doubtless the fine aromatic odour of the
oil of the bruised rind communicated to the feathers. The observer has
watched this proceeding by the hour together.


                            BANANA-BIRD.[62]

                         _Icterus leucopteryx._

          _Oriolus icterus_,          +Linn.+
          _Oriolus Mexicanus_,        +Leach+.—Zool. Misc. i. pl. 2.
          _Icterus leucopteryx_,      +Wagl.+

  [62] Length 8¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 13, flexure 4³⁄₁₀, tail 3¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1, tarsus 1, middle toe ⁸⁄₁₀. Intestine 9 inches; two cæca,
  minute, ¹⁄₈ inch long. Irides dark hazel.

This pretty bird is a general favourite; social and confiding in his
manners, without being saucy, he frequents the fruit trees which are
invariably planted around a Jamaican homestead. On an elevated twig
he sits and cheers his mate with his clear, melodious song, which he
trills forth with much energy. Sometimes his notes have considerable
variety, and may properly be called a song; at others he whistles a
quick repetition of two clear notes which much resemble the words _Tom
Paine, Tom Paine_, if we attempt to enunciate them in whistling. Again,
it is a single note quickly repeated, as when we whistle to call a
dog. Besides these, the Banana bird has other sounds, which are very
deceiving, and seem the result of imitation.

Fruit is his principal diet; a ripe banana, or orange, a papaw, or
a bunch of pimento, presents temptations to him; but perhaps still
more acceptable are the various species of _Anona_, the sops and
custard-apples, on whose soft and luscious pulp he delights to regale.
A ripe sour-sop is sure to attract him, in common with the Blue Quits,
with which he mingles. If the part exposed be decomposing, as is often
the case, he may be seen tugging vigorously to pull off portions of
this, which he throws from his beak with a jerk, seeking to arrive at
a part more palatable. When thus engaged in feeding, and particularly
when playfully pursuing the hen among the twigs, his bright yellow coat
glows beautifully through the openings of the green leaves.

I have observed so frequently as to be worthy of notice, that when
shot, the Banana bird grasps the twig on which he was sitting, so
tenaciously as to hang from it, body downwards, until death at length
relaxes the clasp.

The nest of this bird is an interesting structure; like that of the
Baltimore of the Northern continent, it is a deep purse suspended from
two parallel twigs, or from a fork. One before me is composed chiefly
of the wiry fibres plucked from the fronds of the Palmetto-thatch,
with some horse-hair interwoven. Sometimes, where thatch-threads are
scarce, horse-hair alone is used, and the structure is particularly
neat. But the more ordinary material is a vegetable substance, so
closely resembling horse-hair, even on a minute inspection, that I
have had difficulty in persuading intelligent persons that it was
not actual hair, till I applied it to the flame of a candle, when it
burnt without shrivelling. But I am very uncertain what the substance
is; some say it is the _Tillandsia usneoides_ or “Old man’s beard,”
a very common tree-parasite, but it assuredly is not this; I have
suspected it to be the fibrous stem of the Dodder, dried; a nest newly
made, I observed to be of the bright buff hue of that plant, whence I
presumed that the stems are sometimes taken in a recent, and even a
growing state. A friend tells me, that he has, with much gratification,
watched the process of building. The hairs or threads are procured one
by one, and carried to the selected spot, where they are deposited
in a loose heap. From this accumulated mass of material, the work is
carried on, and progresses rapidly, when once begun. When a few threads
are laid and interlaced for the base, the work becomes perceptible
and interesting. Both birds work together; one taking a thread, and
weaving-in one end, holds down the loose part with his beak; while his
mate takes the ends of others projecting, and lays them tightly down
over it, interweaving them with others. Other threads are crossed in
the same manner, in every direction, until a slight but very compact
purse is made, resembling a loose cloth. As it hangs, the texture is so
thin, that a person below can discern the eggs or young within. Four
eggs are laid, pointed at the less end: they are white, marked with a
few angular scratches, and large spots of deep brown, and measure 1
inch by ⁷⁄₁₀. If an intruder attempt to rifle the nest when the young
are there, both old birds fly round in excessive perturbation, and cry
_Tom Paine’s pick-a-ninny_, with vociferous shrillness.

In March I have dissected females, which displayed a brilliance of
plumage, _in no wise_ inferior to that of the male.

I presume this to be the _Watchy-picket_ of Sloane.

                   *       *       *       *       *

Mr. Hill has mentioned to me two other species of _Icterus_, both
black, the one larger, the other smaller, which have been found in
the mountains near Kingston. I think I once saw the former in Mount
Edgecumbe.


                            BUTTER-BIRD.[63]

                 _Ortolan._—_October Pink._—_Ricebird._

                        _Dolichonyx oryzivorus._

          _Emberiza oryzivora_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 54.
          _Icterus agripennis_,       +Bonap.+
          _Dolichonyx oryzivorus_,    +Sw.+

  [63] Length 7¹⁄₂; expanse 11¹⁄₂, flexure 3⁹⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₂, rictus
  ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1.

In ordinary seasons this well-known bird arrives in vast numbers from
the United States, in the month of October, and scattering over the
lowland plains, and slopes of the sea-side hills, assembles in the
guinea-grass fields, in flocks amounting to five hundred or more.
The seed is then ripe, and the black throngs settle down upon it, so
densely, that numbers may be killed at a random discharge. To procure
the seed, the birds perch on the culm, but as the weight would bear
down a single stalk, each grasps several culms in its foot, while it
rifles the panicles. At this time, the males are dressed in the sober
livery of the females. Early in November they depart for the southern
continent, but during their brief stay they are in great request for
the table. Dr. Chamberlaine only echoes the general estimation, when
he says:—“The Butter-bird is a bonne bouche; it is but a mouthful, but
a luscious and delightful one. Their note,” he adds, “during their
migration hither, is simply _ping, ping, ping_:—what it may be in its
native woods, I do not know. But wounded birds have been secured and
kept in cages, and when placed in the same room with a Canary have soon
acquired similar notes, and in time warble with equal strength and
melody.” (Jam. Alm. 1840; p. 25.)

When the spring rains have set in, usually in the month of April, they
again become our transient guests for a few days, on their northward
migration, when the males are conspicuous in their nuptial dress.
Other species of grass are now seeding, and the nutritive farinaceous
grains of many neglected weeds afford them a supply during their brief
sojourn.


                  +Fam.+—FRINGILLADÆ.—(_The Finches._)

                            CASHEW-BIRD.[64]

              _Mountain Bulfinch_ (+Rob.+)—_Orange-bird._

                            _Tanagra Zena._

      _Fringilla Zena_,        +Linn.+
      _Fringilla Bahamensis_,  +Briss.+
      _Tanagra multicolor_,    +Vieill.+
      _Spindalis bilineatus_,  +Jard.+ and +Selb.+—Ill. Orn. n.s. pl. 9.

  [64] Length 7³⁄₄ inches, expanse 13, flexure 3⁹⁄₁₀, tail 3¹⁄₄,
  rictus ¹³⁄₂₀, tarsus 1, middle toe ³⁄₄. Intestinal canal, wide, but
  only 7 inches long: no cæca. Stomach, a thin, almost membranous sac.

Though not very numerous, this beautiful bird is well-known, being
conspicuous from his brilliant colours. He is spread over the country,
from the mountains of the interior, to the plains of the coast. Rather
social, though perhaps attracted by a common cause, the abundance of
food;—we may sometimes see a dozen or more scattered over a large
bully-tree, from the twigs of which they hang in all positions, while
they pick the berries. Its flight is rapid, and performed in long
undulations: during flight, a low sibilant note is uttered; but it is
usually a silent bird.

About Spanish Town, it is called the Orange-bird, not from its feeding
on oranges, but from the resemblance of its plump and glowing breast,
to that beautiful fruit, as it sits among the dark green foliage. It
is also called the Goldfinch.

I shot a male in September, and wounding him only in the breast,
picked him up, more frightened than hurt. I carried him home in my
handkerchief, and put him into a large cage, where he soon became
quite a favourite. From the very first he was fearless and lively,
found the use of the perches immediately, and did not flutter or beat
himself against the sides, though persons stood close to the cage.
This was large enough to allow him a short flight; and as there were
several perches inserted at various heights and distances into the
sides, he spent a great deal of his time in leaping from one to the
other, seeming to enjoy it much. Seeing this, I put in one or two more,
which were no sooner ready than he took notice of them, stretching
himself towards them, cautiously at first, as if doubtful whether they
would bear him; soon, however, he ventured boldly, and then took them
regularly in his course. He always slept on the highest perch, with his
head behind his wing. He was in full plumage, and his gay breast, and
the fine contrasts of his striped head and wings, showed him off to
advantage. I knew nothing that he would eat, save the berries of the
bully-tree, none of which grew within a considerable distance. I first
tried him with a few insects, and small earthworms, but he took no
notice of these: then I gathered a few bunches of fiddle-wood berries,
which I had no sooner stuck into his cage than I was pleased to see
him hop towards them, and pick off the ripe ones with much relish and
discrimination. I was informed that in a wild state, he sometimes eats
the sour-sop; as I had none of this fruit at hand, I gave him pieces
of a ripe custard-apple and of a guava. He immediately began to eat of
each, plucking off portions of the pulp, and also taking up the fleshy
ovaria of which the former is composed, which he chewed with his beak
till the enclosed seed was pressed out. But all these were forsaken so
soon as I presented to him bunches of ripe pimento, black and sweet.
These he picked off greedily, masticating each in the beak, until the
seeds, which I suppose, were too hotly aromatic for his taste, fell
out. It was amusing to see the persevering efforts he made to obtain
those berries, which happened to be a little beyond his reach. He would
jump from perch to perch impatiently, gazing with outstretched neck at
the tempting fruit, then jump, and look again; then reach forward to
them, until in the endeavour, he would overbalance himself, and perform
an involuntary somerset. Nothing daunted, however, he persevered until
he ventured to do, what he had been several times on tiptoe to do, leap
on the bunch itself; and this he continued to do, though with some
failures, holding on in a scrambling way, now by a leaf, now by the
berries themselves, until he had rifled the bunch of the ripest.

After I had kept him about a week, during which his liveliness and good
temper had much attached him to me, though he made not the slightest
effort at song, I took him out to cleanse the feathers of his breast
from the dried blood that had flowed from his wound. I gently rubbed
them with a soft wet sponge, but whether he took cold, or whether I
irritated the wound, I know not; but on being returned to the cage, he
instantly began to breathe asthmatically with open beak, apparently
with pain; interrupted now and then by fits of coughing, which
continued all night, and on the next morning he died. On dissection, I
could not find that the shot had penetrated the chest, but they were
imbedded in the muscles of the forearm, and had broken the scapula.

A nest, reported to be of the Cashew bird, was brought me on the 18th
of June, taken from a pimento tree. It was a thick, circular mat,
slightly concave, of a loose but soft texture, principally composed
of cotton, decayed leaves, epidermis of weeds, slender stalks, and
tendrils of passion-flower, intermingled, but scarcely interwoven. I
think it probable that this had been sustained by a firmer framework;
and that the person who took it merely tore out the soft lining as a
bed on which the eggs might be carried. The child who brought it, could
give no account of this. The eggs were two, long-oval, taper at the
smaller end; 1¹⁄₁₀ inch by nearly ⁸⁄₁₀; white, sparingly dashed with
irregular dusky spots, in a rude ring around the larger end. The embryo
was at this time formed.


                            SCARLET TANAGER.

                            _Pyranga rubra._

          _Tanagra rubra_,            +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 354.
          _Pyranga rubra_,            +Vieill.+

Of this gay-plumaged stranger, a male and female were seen in March
of the present year, in that wild and magnificent gorge, called the
Boca-guas, near Spanish Town. The brilliant appearance of the male,
attracted the admiration of passers by, and he was at length shot, and
brought to Mr. Hill.

About three weeks after this, a male, also in summer dress, occurred to
my own observation, hopping about the small fruit-trees, on the banks
of Bluefields River. He was very fearless, allowing me to sit and watch
him within half-pistol-shot; now and then he flew down to the ground,
by the side of the water, and remained a few moments peeping about;
then he would fly up into a shrub, and presently be down again to
drink; for the season was parched with drought. I watched him full half
an hour, before he flew away.

Both these instances show that the Scarlet Tanager, occasionally at
least, takes our lovely island, in his spring migration from Central
America to the north. He certainly does not winter with us, having been
until this season unknown to Mr. Hill, who for many years has paid
close attention to the migrant birds. Yet D’Orbigny states, that it
winters in Cuba; perhaps, however, but casually.


                     RED-THROATED BLUE TANAGER.[65]

                             _Orange-quit._

            _Feather-tongue or Sour-sop bird._—(+Rob.+ MSS.)

                        _Tanagrella ruficollis._

      _Fringilla Martinicensis_,       +Gmel.+
      _Tanagra ruficollis_,            ibid.
      _Fringilla noctis, var. β._      +Lath.+—Ind. Or.
    ? _American Hedge-sparrow, fem._   +Edw.+ 122.
    ? _Le pere noir_,                  +Buff.+ Pl. enl. 201. fig. 1.

  [65] Length 5¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 9, flexure 2⁸⁄₁₀, tail 2, rictus
  ¹¹⁄₂₀, tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Weight 3¹⁄₂ drachms, (apoth.)

  Male. Irides bright hazel; beak and feet black. General plumage
  rather dull blue; throat deep rufous, cheeks black. Wing-quills and
  tail-feathers blackish with blue edges.

  Female. Head and neck greenish grey: back olive brown: tertiaries
  and their coverts, and tail dark umber; the former with pale edges.
  Under parts ashy, approaching to white on the medial line of the
  belly.

The tongue of this species, pencilled and barbed at the tip, might
give it a place among the Honey-suckers. It does not climb, however,
nor cling by its feet, but perches. It is not a very common bird in
the lowlands; but in the mountains I have found it rather plentiful.
It frequents berry-bearing trees of various species, in small parties,
with no very strong sociality; its only note is a single chirp, sharp
and shrill. Towards the end of the year, when the dark and glossy
foliage of the orange groves is relieved by the profuse golden fruit,
reminding the beholder, of the fabled gardens of the Hesperides, this
Tanager becomes numerous, hopping about the twigs, and pecking holes
in the ripe fruit. Many are then readily caught by smearing the twigs
in the vicinity of a half-eaten orange, with bird lime, or “gum,”
as it is called, the inspissated milk that exudes from an unripe
naseberry. Females seem to predominate in these foraging parties, in
the proportion of two or three to one; unless the young males have the
same livery as their mothers.

Near the Hallow-well at Content, on a bush whose glossy black berries
have obtained for it the name of _wild pimento_, but which is better
known as _rod-wood_, we found a nest of the Orange Quit, in June. It
was a very deep cup, of a coarse texture, rather rudely formed of
blades of grass, and the leaves of _Olyra latifolia_, interwoven with
stalks of grass. It was built on a horizontal branch, at the divergence
of two twigs, but did not embrace them. Four small eggs, ¹³⁄₂₀ inch by
⁵⁄₁₀, contained at that time embryos half matured: they were white,
splashed with dull red, thinly, except at the larger end, where the
spots were numerous and confluent. The male probably assists in
incubation; for he was seen to emerge from the nest.


                             BLUE QUIT.[66]

                          _Euphonia Jamaica._

          _Fringilla Jamaica_,        +Linn.+
          _Euphonia Jamaica_,         +Desm.+
          _Grey Grosbeak_,            +Brown+.—Ill. Zool. pl. 26.

  [66] Length 4¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 8, flexure 2⁶⁄₁₀, tail 1⁵⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ³⁄₄, middle toe ¹¹⁄₂₀. Irides deep hazel: feet
  dark grey; beak grey, the fissure, ridge and tip black.

  Male. Upper parts slate blue, glossy, more or less tinged on the
  rump with green. Throat, breast, and sides pale grey: belly yellow;
  under tail coverts greyish white. The blue on the wing-quills
  nearly black.

  Female. Loins, upper tail-coverts, and thighs, yellow-green; no
  yellow on the belly. Otherwise as the male.

A short stumpy bird, and rather inelegant from the shortness of
its tail, the Blue Quit reminds me of the Nut-hatches. It is very
common about homesteads, where it frequents fruit-trees, particularly
the sops: it is, however, nowise infrequent in the woods, both on
the mountains and in the lowlands. It hops busily about the twigs
and fruits, picking in any position, back or belly, head or tail,
uppermost. When the sour-sop is ripe, they flock to it in such numbers,
that the tree appears covered with them: the negro children then set
limed twigs for them, and I have had them brought to me thus as fast
as they could be taken down. The boys cut diagonal notches into the
bark of a naseberry tree, (_Achras_), or score an unripe fruit; a white
milk exudes, so abundant as to drop quickly, and is caught on a leaf.
At first it has the consistence of thin cream, but half an hour’s
exposure thickens it, and gives it tenacity enough to be drawn into
threads; when they consider it “ripe.” A twig smeared with this “gum,”
is stuck into the half-eaten sour-sop or custard-apple, presenting a
very inviting perch to the hungry birds. One soon hops on the fatal
twig, and is in an instant fluttering helplessly, fast at the feet.
Banana birds, Mocking birds, and Cashew birds are also taken in this
way. The appearance of the intestinal viscera at such a season, is very
singular, being distended with the white pulp throughout their length,
perfectly visible from the transparency of the intestines. At first
the stomach seems to be wanting, and this much surprised me; but the
fact is, that organ is simply a thin membranous sac, or rather canal,
differing in no apparent respect from the intestine, save in slightly
increased capacity.

The musical powers of our little Blue Quit are considerable: it is
a sweet and constant song-bird. It has various notes; frequently it
chirps pertinaciously, like the Humming birds; at other times it utters
a long “twee,” like the Chicken-Hawk; sometimes it delights in a soft
warbling repetition of a single note; sometimes its voice is closely
like the plaintive mewing of a kitten. But besides these it has a
real song, sweet and musical. In March at Spanish Town, I heard two,
apparently both males, warbling close together on a genip-tree opposite
my window, very sweetly but hurriedly. When one flew to another twig
the other presently followed. By and bye they ceased that melody, and
one took to a strain consisting of about a dozen rapid repetitions
of the same note, ending with one elevated note, with a jerking
abruptness. This strain he repeated several times.

About the middle of April, a pair of Blue Quits built a nest on one of
the topmost branches of a high fiddle wood in the yard of Bluefields
house. The tree was much infested with that parasite called Old man’s
beard, large bunches of which grew on most of the limbs and boughs, so
numerously as to touch each other in long successions. Two of these
contiguous bunches the birds had managed to separate, either by picking
away portions, or by pushing them apart, so as to open a large hollow,
and in this they built a very snug domed nest. It was globular in
form, about as large as an infant’s head, with an opening in one side,
composed of dry grass, the dried stems of the _Tillandsia_, tendrils
of passion-flower, bits of rag, profusely intermixed with cotton and
the down of plants; yet these soft substances were not used to line
the structure, the grass only appearing in the inside. Perhaps it was
not finished, for the birds were passing in and out, and thus betrayed
its existence, for so identified was it in appearance with the bunches
around, that but for this ingress and egress, and the little opening,
I could not have detected it. I sent up a lad to examine it, but in so
doing, he partially broke the branch, causing it to hang down; and this
I presume awakened suspicion, for the birds deserted it, and in a few
days I had it taken down. It was empty.

Mr. Hill has favoured me with the following interesting memorandum.
“Feb. 5. 1838. Near the piazza of my house a cotton-bush has flung out
its knots of white filaments. Hither come the birds at this season
to gather materials for constructing their nests. The Blue Sparrow,
a pretty little frugivorous bird that sings in our fruit trees, all
the year round, its merry twittering song, has been busily engaged
with his mate collecting bills-full of cotton. It did not seem to be a
thing immediately settled that they should set to work and gather their
materials at once. They had alighted on the tree as if they had very
unexpectedly found what they were seeking. The male began to twitter a
song of joy, dancing and jumping about, and the female, intermingling
every now and then a chirp, frisked from stem to stem, and did very
little more than survey the riches of the tree: at least she plucked
now and then a bill-full of the filaments, and spreading it to flaunt
to the wind tossed it away, as if she had been merely shewing that it
every way answered the purpose in length and softness, and was in every
respect the thing they wanted. At each of these displays of the kind
and quality of the materials, the male intermingled his twittering song
with a hoarse succession of notes, which were always the same, _chu,
chu, chu, chu, chwit_; to which the female chirped two or three times
in succession; then grasping another bill-full of cotton, tossed it
away as before, and obtained from the male the same notes of attention
and approval. At last they set to work in earnest, gathered a load of
the materials drawn out as loosely as they could get it, and filling
their bills, started away to the tree, wherever it was, in which they
had determined to build their nest.”


                             TICHICRO.[67]

                 _Grass Pink, or Savanna bird._—+Rob.+

                    _Coturniculus tixicrus._—+Mihi.+

  [67] Length 5 inches, expanse 7³⁄₄, flexure 2²⁄₁₀, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁷⁄₁₀, hind toe ¹³⁄₂₀,
  (including claw ⁶⁄₂₀). Irides hazel; feet flesh-colour, beak
  greyish, culmen deep brown. Crown deep bistre, with a central white
  stripe reaching to the nape. Feathers of back, rump, wing and
  tail coverts, with black disks, chestnut tips, and narrow white
  edges. Quills dusky, with the outer edge whitish, third and fourth
  longest; secondaries reaching to within ⁷⁄₂₀ inch of primaries:
  edge of shoulder brilliant yellow. Tail feathers narrow, acute,
  nearly even, brown, with the medial portion black. A yellow band
  over the eye. Under parts white, tinged with umber on throat,
  breast, and sides, but unspotted.

Intermediate between _C. Henslowi_ and _C. passerinus_, the Tichicro
differs from the former in its unspotted breast, its nearly even
tail, the secondaries considerably short of the primaries, the bill
arched, the deep colour of the head and the coronal streak. From the
latter, by the tail feathers being acute, by the third and fourth
quills being longest, and by having more chestnut on the wings. In the
admeasurements it differs from both.

This modest little bird is not common, except in certain localities;
it is sometimes seen in open pastures, running on the ground, but more
frequently in fields of guinea-grass. In a grass-piece at Peter’s
Vale, it may be found at all times of the year, frequently rising from
behind a tussock just before the traveller’s feet, flying a little way
with feeble wing, and then sinking among the high grass, where it will
remain, until one again come close to it, for it seems little inclined
to flight. I have several times seen a single one by the sides of the
road to Savanna-le-Mar, where it passes through the marshy flats of
Paradise; and occasionally one frequents the pasture of Bluefields. I
have never observed it on a tree, nor even on a bush, except on one
occasion, early in March, when one was sitting on the log-wood fence
at Paradise, warbling sweetly, and fearlessly continuing its song,
though myself and two other persons stood looking at it within two or
three yards. More frequently it utters its warbling chant sitting on a
flat stone, or on the bare ground among the grass tufts. Its song is
melodious, but simple; consisting of a few notes rapidly repeated in a
single strain, _pettichee, pettichee, pettichee_, when it is silent for
a moment, and begins again. This, as far as I am aware, is peculiar to
the vernal season; at other times it has a singular call, as it skulks
in its grassy coverts, _cro-cro-tichicro_, whence its provincial name.

I have been able to learn nothing of the nidification of this Sparrow;
its small size, sombre plumage, and retiring habits have prevented its
obtaining much notoriety; indeed it was unknown to Mr. Hill, until I
happened to shoot one when in company with him at St. Thomas in the
Vale. I suspect it makes its nest in the midst of a grass tuft, or on
the ground among them; where it would be very unlikely to be met with,
as these tufts are never cut, nor are they eaten down by stock to
within eighteen inches of the ground.

One day in April, when the sun was pouring down his unmitigated rays, I
observed a Tichicro walking towards a little rain-puddle in the middle
of the road. Seeing me, however, it retired to the wayside, and did
not fly away, though within a few feet of my horse, but stood looking
wistfully at the puddle. I thought it had been going to drink, but as
it began to ruffle its plumage and shake its wings, I saw that it had
been bathing. I then rode on a few steps, leaving the pool clear, when
it immediately ran to the edge, and walked into the shallow water,
bending its legs and sitting down in it; then it immersed its head, and
shook the water over its body, with the pretty action common to birds
bathing. It seemed greatly to enjoy the relief from the heat, and only
reluctantly left the water on the approach of another passenger.

The Tichicro is certainly a perennial inhabitant of the island, and
seems confined to the lowland districts, or to hills of moderate
elevation.


                       GOLDEN-CROWNED CANARY.[68]

                       _Crithagra Brasiliensis._

          _Fringilla Brasiliensis_,   +Spix+.—Av. Bras. pl. 61.

  [68] Length 5 inches, expanse 10, flexure 2⁹⁄₁₀, tail 2²⁄₁₀, rictus
  ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹⁷⁄₂₀, middle toe ⁷⁄₁₀. Irides dark hazel; feet
  horn-coloured; beak, upper mandible blackish, under pale horny.
  Male. Plumage above olive yellow; head lustrous orange, silky;
  whole under parts rich golden yellow. Wing and tail feathers dusky
  brown, with both edges broadly yellow.

  Female. Head and back yellowish grey, with black dashes: throat
  whitish; a broad collar of pale yellow encircles the neck; breast
  and belly greyish-white. In other respects as the male, but less
  vivid. Some males, (young?) have the upper plumage mingled with
  greyish ash, and the orange only on forehead and throat.

This very beautiful Finch is rather common in the large park-like
pastures of Mount Edgecumbe, Auchindown, Culloden, and Peter’s Vale,
situated at the eastern extremity of Westmoreland. It is not at
all shy, but hops about the grass, or flits to and fro among the
pimento and orange trees, in parties of three or four, now and then
sitting among the branches, and uttering a monotonous _chip, chip_,
pertinaciously repeated by both sexes without variation. This is the
only note I have heard from them.

These birds are believed in Jamaica to be the descendants of some pairs
of the common Canary turned out. “A gentleman of the colony named
Shakspeare,” observes Mr. Hill, “many years ago, touching at Madeira on
his voyage to this island, is said to have procured several male and
female Canaries, which he set at large in the fields about the rectory
at Black River, where they have multiplied, and have become wild
birds of the country. Many of our grasses produce farinaceous seeds,
extremely nutritious, and supply quite a substitute for the canary-seed
of the African islands. I presume our birds derive their intensity of
colour from this sort of food. They are a beautiful variety of the
natural stock. Of their song I have never been able to learn anything
very distinct, except that heard in the thickets with other birds, it
sounds neither loud nor thrilling, and can barely be recognised as that
of the bird of the aviary. It is said to have lost all its versatility
with its power. Though these imported Canaries have increased so much,
as to be perceptibly common, they are confined to a very small range of
country, being observed nowhere but in the neighbourhood of the place
where the first colony was established. A friend writes me, between
Bluefields and Black River.”

The evidence of the origin of these birds, seems thus very distinct;
and yet the plumage is that never known to be assumed by the true
Canary, while it agrees exactly with the Brazilian species, which,
Spix says, “inhabits the fields of Minas Geraes, and is named Canary.”
The plumage of the wild Canary, in its native islands, is said to be
_less vivid_ than that of caged specimens. It is possible that the
Brazilian birds may have descended from imported birds; or, on the
other hand, that the Madeira parents of ours may have been imported
from Brazil thither; a case the more probable, from the fact of both
being Portuguese colonies.


                         YELLOW-BACK FINCH.[69]

                    _Spermophila anoxantha._—+Mihi.+

  [69] Length 4⁷⁄₈ inches, expanse 8¹⁄₄, flexure 2⁵⁄₁₀, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Irides hazel; feet
  blackish flesh-colour; beak black.

  Male. Head and breast black. Back yellow, becoming greenish towards
  the rump, and merging into black on the tail. Wing-coverts yellow,
  brightest at shoulder; quills, and tail feathers edged with yellow.
  Belly greyish; under tail-coverts brick-red.

  Female. Upper parts olive yellow, bright on shoulders, dull on head
  and rump. Under parts ashy grey.

  Latham (Syn. ii. 300) confounds this with the Black-face Grass-quit.

Though hitherto undescribed, this pretty species is not rare: among the
dark green pimento groves of Mount Edgecumbe, it may be almost always
met with, and the contrast of its black head and yellow back, renders
it conspicuous. Various seeds and small berries afford it food; in
April I have seen it eagerly picking off the little crimson berries
of the fiddlewood, and swallowing them; and in autumn I have shot one
engaged in feeding on the seeds of the prickly-yellow tree. Probably
grass-seed forms a part of its nutriment; late in the year when the
guinea-grass is ripe, I have observed them flitting about from tussock
to tussock.

Its musical powers are but small. I have never heard any note proceed
from it, but _tsip, tsip, tseep, tēēsp_, loud and shrill, repeated at
short intervals, as it hops from twig to twig.

Early in June I found a nest of the Yellow-back. Over a gap leading out
of a negro yard into the high road, at the back of Content cottage,
hung down a dead limb of a large logwood, that was almost covered
by bunches of _Tillandsia usneoides_. Just at the extremity of the
depending twigs, not more than five feet from the ground, and in the
very path frequented by the people and the animals, in the midst of a
large cluster of the _tillandsiæ_, the Finch had constructed her nest.
It was a neat dome, somewhat like the head-part of a cradle, formed of
dried grass, with a few bits of white cotton interwoven, but profusely
set on the outside with the _tillandsia_, the down of which gave it a
very woolly appearance. It contained three eggs, white, splashed with
dull red, having a tendency to form a crown round the large end. On
this, as well as another occasion, the male was seen to enter the nest,
as well as his mate, so that both probably assist in incubation. In the
evening I went cautiously to the spot, and putting a gauze net suddenly
before the nest, secured the female, which darted out into the net.
Having identified her, I let her go, but in the morning, early, when
I went again to the nest, there were no eggs within, but fragments of
the shell of one lay on the ground at some little distance, which must
have lain there sometime, for they were cleaned out by ants, and dry
inside. Was this done by the female at finding the nest desecrated? or
by the male, at not finding his mate? for on letting the bird go in the
darkness, she in her fright flew in the opposite direction, and perhaps
did not find the nest.


                      YELLOW FACE GRASS-QUIT.[70]

                        _Spermophila olivacea._

          _Emberiza olivacea_,        +Linn.+
          _Fringilla lepida_,         Ibid.
          _Passerina olivacea_,       +Vieill.+
          _Spermophila olivacea_,     +Sw.+

  [70] Length 4¹⁄₈ inches, expanse 6³⁄₄, flexure 2, tail 1⁷⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁷⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁷⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Irides dark hazel; feet
  purplish; beak horny black.

  Male. Upper parts olive; a stripe over the eye, a minute one under
  the eye, and the chin and throat, rich yellow, narrowly edged with
  black; lower throat and breast black, merging into the olive;
  belly very pale olive; vent and under tail coverts almost white.
  Wing-quills blackish, edged with olive; edge of shoulder yellow.
  Tail olive.

  In the female the black is absent, and the yellow is less
  conspicuous.

Immediately behind the homestead of Bluefields, a lane, confined
for a mile or two between dry-stone walls, leads to the road which
winds in a zig-zag line to the top of the Bluefields ridge. This lane
possesses many attractions. By the wall on each side grow trees, which
afford grateful shade, and many of them load the evening air with dewy
fragrance. Orange-trees, profusely planted, give out in spring gushes
of odour from their waxen blossoms, and in autumn tempt the eye with
their “golden fruitage.” The Pride of China, lovely in its graceful
leaves and spikes of lilac blossoms, and not less sweet-scented than
the orange; the pimento, dense and glossy, with another, but not
inferior, character of beauty; are varied by the less showy, but still
valuable, cedar and guazuma. The various species of _echites_ trail
their slender stems and open their brilliant flowers, along the top
of the wall, and the pretty _Banisteria_ displays its singular yellow
blossoms, or scarlet berries at its foot; while near the top of the
lane, tangled and matted masses of the _night-blowing cereus_ depend
from the trees, or sprawl over the walls, expanding their magnificent,
sun-like flowers, only to “the noon of night.” Here and there huge
black nests of _termites_ look like barrels built into the wall, whose
loose stones, grey with exposure, and discoloured with many-tinted
lichens, afford a sombre relief to the numerous large-leafed _arums_
that climb and cluster above them. To the left the mountain towers,
dark and frowning; the view on the right is bounded by a row of little
rounded hills, studded with trees and clumps of pimento. But between
the traveller and either, extend the fields of guinea-grass, which
are enclosed by these boundary walls. In the autumn, when the grass
is grown tall, and the panicles of seed waving in the wind give it a
hoary surface, the little Grass-quits, both of this and the following
species, throng hither in numerous flocks, and perching in rows on
the slender stalks, weigh them down, while they rifle them of the
farinaceous seeds.

In March, I have found the stomach of the Yellow-face full of seeds of
the common pasture grasses; and I have been struck with the enormous
dilatation of the membranous craw, which, as in the Gallinaceæ,
occupies the hollow of the _furcula_.

D’Orbigny, who has given a good figure of it, in Sagra’s Cuba, alludes
to its prevalence in all the great Antilles. At the Havanna, he says it
is frequently caged, being very docile, and readily learning to sing. I
have never heard from it any other note than a quivering chirrup as it
flits from bush to bush.

Mr. Hill has favoured me with the following note. “Nests of the
Grass-bird are frequently brought to me, but without distinguishing
between the yellow and the black-throated species. A nest in the
garden, built in a _Nerium oleander_, by the latter, [in July,] enables
me to set down a remark or two. I see no difference in the structure
of the nests of the two species. They are both domed nests, made of
pliable dry grass, and lined with horse-hair. This nest is built
between the forks of the long vertical stems of the _oleander_, or
South Sea rose. Three other vertical stems press it close, and the
leaves quite canopy it over. The substratum of the nest, on which it
may be said to be bedded, is a mass of long linen rags, wound in and
round the forked branch. It is quite true that the Grass-bird very
frequently selects a shrub, on which the wasps have built, fixing the
entrance close to their cells. I saw a nest in this secure situation a
few years ago; it was pointed out to me as illustrating a habit of the
yellow-throated species.

“The Grass-birds remind me much of the European Sparrow. They are very
social, have a strong predilection for the house-garden, and when
feeding by half-dozens and dozens together, are very noisy. They have a
peculiar shrill chirp; and in the season when the grasses are in seed,
their diminutive bodies, for they are smaller than wrens, may be seen
weighing down the culm of the grass, everywhere about.

“On one occasion, some twenty or thirty of the Yellow-throated
Grass-bird constructed a mass of nests, within the wide crutch of a
baobab tree, and lived in common.”


                       BLACK-FACE GRASS-QUIT.[71]

                         _Spermophila bicolor._

          _Fringilla bicolor_,        +Linn.+
          _Chloris Bahamensis_,       +Briss.+

  [71] Length 4¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 6¹⁄₂, flexure 2, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁷⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁶⁄₁₀. Exactly like the
  preceding, except in totally wanting the yellow; the face and
  throat being black.

Both of these birds are permanent inhabitants of Jamaica; their habits
are so similar, that the detailed history of one will apply to the
other. Both are quite common, and familiar; and both are unmusical: the
present is more silent than the former; yet in spring its note may be
heard, as it makes its short flights, a single harsh guttural squeak,
difficult to indicate by words, and difficult to imitate.

To the remarks of Mr. Hill’s in the preceding article, I will merely
add the description of another nest of the Black-face, which in June
was built between three contiguous stalks of maize, and an ear. It
was a dome composed of slender stalks of grass and weeds woven into a
globose form, flattened in front, on which side was the opening. The
dried beard of the corn entered into the structure, and a small frond
of fern, and a tendril or two of passion-flower adorned the entrance.
Three eggs were laid, measuring ⁷⁄₁₀ by ¹⁄₂ inch; pointed; white,
splashed with dull red, chiefly at the larger end, where confluent.


                       BAY-SIDED GRASS-QUIT.[72]

                      _Spermophila adoxa._—+Mihi.+

  [72] Length 4¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 6¹⁄₂, flexure 2, tail 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  (nearly,) rictus ⁷⁄₂₀, tarsus ⁷⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁷⁄₁₀. Irides dark
  brown, feet purplish, beak horn-colour, nearly black above. Whole
  upper parts, olive brown: under parts greyish white: sides and vent
  fawn-colour.

Of this very plain and unpretending species, but a single specimen has
fallen into my hands; which I shot on the 9th of August 1845, hopping
with others about logwood trees at Grand Vale. It may be a female of an
unrecorded species, but its fawn-coloured sides distinguish it from
the females of the preceding two species, with which in other respects
it well agrees, as they do still more with each other.

The name of _Quit_ is applied without much discrimination by the
negroes of Jamaica, to several small birds, such as the Banana Quit,
which is a Creeper, and the Blue Quit, and Grass Quits which are
finches; it is probably an African designation.


                        COTTON-TREE SPARROW.[73]

                _Black Bulfinch_, +Rob.+——_Coffee-bird._

                          _Pyrrhula violacea._

      _Loxia violacea_,           +Linn.+—Edw. Birds, pl. 82. female?
      _Pyrrhula auranticollis_,   +Vieill.+ Gal Ois. pl. 55. male.

  [73] Length 7³⁄₄ inches, expanse 10¹⁄₂, flexure 3¹⁄₁₀, tail 3,
  rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀; middle toe ³⁄₄. Irides dark hazel; beak
  and feet black. Male. Plumage black; an arched stripe over the
  eye, the chin, throat, and under tail-coverts rust-red: under
  wing-coverts yellowish white. Female. Dull mouse-brown; paler
  beneath. The red paler and less in extent.

One of those gigantic and hoary cotton trees which are the pride of a
Jamaican forest, or some other tree equally tall, is usually selected
by this Bulfinch, for its abode. At the extremity of an immense
horizontal limb, it builds a nest of rude materials, as large as a
half-bushel measure, the opening being near the bottom. I have seen
the bird enter this monstrous structure, but have had no opportunity
of examining it. Dr. Robinson observes that “the Black Bulfinch builds
a nest as big as a Blackbird’s cage, and by the artful contrivance of
this little volatile, the whole has the simple appearance of a heap of
trash, flung on some bough of a tree, as it were by accident, so that
nobody would suppose it to be anything else.” And in another passage he
records having found the nest at Negril, on the 22nd of April, 1761,
at the summit of a Cabbage-palm, eighty-one feet high, which he had
caused to be felled: “Among the spadices of this tree was fixed, how I
cannot tell, the nest of the Black Bulfinch, made up of various matter;
viz. old cane-trash fibres, silk-cotton, some dry leaves, and at the
bottom many tendrils of climbing shrubs, and a very small species of
_epidendrum_, or green wyth, common in this parish. In it I found one
egg, about an inch long, in colour like that of a common duck, that is,
of a sullied white.” (MSS. i. 72.)

Mr. Hill saw one building in a vale in Clarendon in August. It had
begun a domed nest of dried grass, rather loosely interwoven, then
about as large as a child’s head, but probably it would have been
larger. It was in a fork of an outer limb of a logwood tree at the edge
of a thicket, about seven feet from the ground. The bird went and came,
bringing materials repeatedly, while my friend was watching it.

Sam maintains that he has repeatedly seen it enter large cumulative
nests, on high cotton-trees, having exactly the same appearance as
those of the Black Shrike, (p. 190,) and that he has heard them utter
the same remarkable cry. The suspicion was obvious, considering that
both birds are black, and nearly of one size, that he had confounded
the one with the other. Yet against this, I may state, that he
is perfectly familiar with both species, that he is accustomed
to discriminating observations, and that he asserts that it was
impossible for him to be mistaken in one of the cases. I would add,
that notwithstanding colour and size, the appearance of the two birds
is very different. Yet on the 16th of June, a lad brought me a nest of
small size and cup-like form, which he named as the nest of the “Black
Sparrow,” and described the bird which frequented the nest, and which
he had driven from it when about to take it, as being wholly black,
except the throat which was red; a description which will apply to
no other than this. Moreover, the nest was placed on a coffee-tree,
agreeing with the fact that in some districts the species is named
“Coffee-bird.” It is a rather deep cup, about 2¹⁄₂ inches wide in the
clear, made of very coarse materials, such as dried and half-decayed
leaves of trees, the long broad leaves of rushes or flags, intermingled
with stalks of grass and herbaceous weeds, and with slender roots:
there is a slight lining of thatch-threads, and of blades of grass torn
into narrow strips, and arranged circularly. From such materials, it
may be supposed that the workmanship was loose and slovenly. Three eggs
were found in it, of an elongated form, measuring 1 inch by ¹³⁄₂₀; of
a pale glaucous white, thickly strewn with longitudinal dashes of pale
reddish-brown, confluent at the larger end.

The Black Bulfinch is said to frequent coffee trees, for the purpose of
feeding on the ripe berries. The stomachs of such as I have examined,
contained farinaceous seeds, comminuted into a pudding-like mass.

It has a simple but rather sweet song, which may be imitated by
rapidly pronouncing the syllables _wis, wis, wis, wis, weē_, the last
much protracted. It can hardly be distinguished from the note of
the Black Shrike. Early in the morning in spring, he delights in a
rapid vibratory strain, which I can compare to nothing, for tone and
duration, so well as to the sound produced by one turn of the key in
winding up a musical snuff-box.

One day in April, as I was riding past the cliffs at Cave, on the road
to Savanna-le-Mar, I observed two Cotton-tree Sparrows, whose motions
arrested my attention. They were both males in adult plumage. One
presented himself to the other, opening his beak to the utmost; when
the other seized something in his mouth, and tugged at it; this action
was repeated several times, but whatever was the object pulled at, it
appeared pretty firmly attached to the lower mandible, and refused to
come away. From the evident desire of the one operated on, I conjecture
that it was an application for the removal of some extraneous object
which had accidentally stuck into the flesh of the mouth, and gave
pain or inconvenience. But if so, how interesting an instance of
intelligence communicated; for intelligence, and combined action, there
certainly was. At length the operator, having done what he could, flew
off: but the poor unsuccessful patient, after a few seconds, followed
him, and sought him again in the bush, while I rode on my way.

A male which I shot, and but slightly wounded, displayed much energy,
and some ingenuity, in its persevering efforts to escape, in which,
after being twice captured, it at length succeeded. When I attempted to
seize it, it bit at me fiercely, and pinched my finger so forcibly as
I could not have anticipated. The beak is very powerful, doubtless for
the sake of opening or crushing hard seed-vessels.

I have dissected a female at the end of April, with eggs in the ovary
as large as pigeon-shot, the plumage of which differed from that of
the male, only in the black being _not quite_ so bright. The name
_violacea_, is a strange misnomer, as there is not the slightest tinge
of violet.

Robinson has mentioned the prevalence of these birds on the Liguanea
mountains, in a passage so interesting, that I quote it entire. “In
ascending from Mr. Elletson’s estate called Merryman’s Hill, about
four miles from Hope River plantation, after you get about a mile and
a half beyond the said Merryman’s Hill, the air suddenly turns cool,
and the plants and trees are entirely different from what you observed
before, excepting two or three, which continue all the way up. There
also you hear the Black Bulfinches first begin to whistle, which are
continued all the way up to the top of the mountains; and, indeed, they
are the only birds you hear, for there are hardly any Nightingales;
but they have the Grey-eyed Thrush, whose notes are not much inferior
in sweetness but longer. In these mountains hardly any cockroaches are
seen, but a very small kind. The wood-ant, that destructive insect, is
also a stranger to these mountains.” (MSS. iii. 131.) By the Grey-eyed
Thrush, I suspect he means the Glass-eye: or else the White-eyed
Flycatcher.

In the valuable drawings of the Doctor, he has one carefully executed,
of a bird considerably larger than this, which he calls the Pied
Bulfinch of the mountains, but which I have supposed to be the present
bird in the partial albinism, to which all black birds seem subject.
There are, however, some details which make this rather uncertain. The
whole plumage, including the red gorge, (which is rather crimson than
ferruginous) is studded with large white patches; beside which there
is a large square spot of white, occupying the middle of the wing: the
outmost two tail-feathers on each side are also white, and the forehead
is pale yellow. Should it prove to be distinct, I propose for it the
name of _Pyrrhula Robinsonii_.

                   *       *       *       *       *

To these _Fringilladæ_, I would add, on the authority of Mr. Hill, the
Rose-breasted Grosbeak of Wilson, (_Guiraca Ludoviciana_, +Sw.+).




                   +Order.+—SCANSORES. (_Climbers._)

                  +Fam.+—PSITTACIDÆ. (_The Parrots._)

                        YELLOW-HEADED MACAW.[74]

          ? _Ara tricolor_,           +Le Vaill.+ pl. 5.

  [74] “Basal half of upper mandible black, apical half ash-coloured;
  lower mandible black, tip only ash-coloured. Forehead, crown, and
  back of neck bright yellow. Sides of face around eyes, anterior and
  lateral part of neck, and back, a fine scarlet. Wing coverts and
  breast, deep sanguine red. Winglet and primaries, an elegant light
  blue. The legs and feet were said to have been black; the tail red
  and yellow intermixed.” (Rob.)

If this be not the _Tricolor_ of Le Vaillant, which is the only Macaw I
am aware of marked with a yellow nape, it is probably undescribed. The
two descriptions do not, certainly, agree exactly; yet still I cannot
but think the bird seen by Robinson, whose description I give below,
to be this very rare species. Of the present specimen the Doctor says,
“This bird I saw stuffed. The legs and tail were wanting. It seemed
less than the common Red and Blue Macaw. By what I can judge from this
sample, this bird has never yet either been figured or described.
Sir Henry Moore, late Lieutenant Governor, often assured me that the
Jamaica Macaw was very different from any he had ever seen. The subject
now before us was shot [probably about 1765,] in the mountains of
Hanover parish, about ten miles east of Lucea, by Mr. Odell.”

Latham has attributed _Ara aracanga_ and _ararauna_ to Jamaica; the
former on the authority of Brisson.

The latter, Browne (Hist. Jam. 472,) expressly says he himself killed
there. The Rev. Mr. Coward at present Curate of Highgate, near Spanish
Town, informed me, that being in St. Elizabeth’s, in a plain at the
foot of a chain of mountains dividing that parish from St. James, and
consequently nearly in the medial line of the island, about 1842, one
of the party called, “look! look!” and looking up, he saw two birds
flying over-head, which he at once saw were parrots, but of very large
size: and he was told that they were Macaws. On inquiring further of
those resident in the neighbourhood, to whom the birds were familiar,
he was informed that their plumage was blue and yellow. These were
probably _Ararauna_.

A letter just received from Mr. Hill, who kindly assisted my inquiries
on the subject, says;—“I have ascertained with unquestionable
certainty, that Macaws are occasionally, if not constantly, denizens
of our mountain forests. They are found exclusively in the central
mountains westward of the island, and are observed on the skirt of the
partially cleared country, at an elevation of 2500 or 3000 feet above
the sea. They have been surprised in small companies feeding on the
full-eared maize, while the grain was soft, milky, and sweet, and the
very husk was sugary. Every description I have received of them, makes
the species to be the _Ara militaris_, the Great Green Macaw of Mexico.
The head is spoken of as red; the neck, shoulders, and underparts of a
light and lively green; the greater wing-coverts and quills, blue; and
the tail scarlet and blue on the upper surface, with the under plumage
both of the wings and tail, a mass of intense orange yellow.

“Autumnal rains set in with westerly winds in the Gulf of Mexico, when
the Ara is said to migrate from the mountain ranges on which it breeds
on the continent, and not to return till the turn of the year. From
_our_ birds being found only in the western parts of the island, I
suspect that they are casual visitors, coming to us at the end of the
year. The ordinary Parrots wing high, but the Macaws are exceedingly
high fliers, and the command of the continental and insular shores,
could be no difficulty to birds of their powerful, though, usually,
not long-sustained flight. When the October rains set in, storms and
deluges from the mountains of the continent to the west of us, send
myriad flocks of aquatic birds over to us, and it is extremely likely
that these magnificent Parrots are driven to our shores, where they
find in our genial mountains, the mild quietude of the upper summer
woods of Mexico.

“A mountain district very remote, between Trelawney and St. Ann’s,
here and there cleared and settled,—a peculiar country called the
_Black grounds_, is said to be the never failing resort of these
Mexican Macaws. I have been assured that several birds have been
procured there. This is said to be nearly as far eastward as they have
been found. Further westward, in the neighbourhood of the Accompong
Maroons, young birds, bearing the evidence of being in the first year’s
plumage, have been procured from hog-hunters. One specimen, purchased
from them by Mr. White, the proprietor of Oxford estate, was for some
time the admiration and talk of the country round. I have been informed
by those who have noticed the bird on the wing, that although the
Macaws are never seen but flying extremely high, their great size, and
their splendid length of tail, brilliant with intense scarlet, and blue
and yellow, strikingly attract attention, if their harsh scream, heard
in the hushed mountain solitudes, does not betray them. They fly from
one ridge to another, journeying in pairs, and have been followed by
the eye till they have alighted on the loftiest of the forest trees, in
their chosen resting places.”


                     YELLOW-BELLIED PARROQUET.[75]

                         _Conurus flaviventer._

      _Psittacus æruginosus_, _var._  +Lath.+ Syn.
      _Aratinga flaviventer_,         +Spix+. Av. Br. t. 18. f. 1.

  [75] Length, measured over the head, 11³⁄₄ inches, expanse 16³⁄₄,
  flexure 5³⁄₄, tail 5, rictus ³⁄₄, tarsus ⁵⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀.
  Irides pale orange; cere and cheeks, pale buff.

The large earthy nests accumulated by the duck-ants (_Termites_,)
around the trunk or branches of trees, frequently afford the Parroquet
a fit situation for her own domestic economy. Though easily cut by her
strong beak, the thin arches and galleries of these insects are of
sufficiently firm consistence to constitute a secure and strong abode.
In the cavity formed by her own industry she lays four or five eggs,
upon the chips and dust.

But the precaution of the poor bird in selecting a locality, and her
perseverance in burrowing into so solid a structure, are not sufficient
to ensure her safety or that of her young. The aperture by which she
herself enters and departs, affords also a ready entrance to a subtle
and voracious enemy, the Yellow Boa. A young friend of mine once
observing a Parroquet enter into a hole in a large duck-ants’ nest,
situated on a bastard-cedar, mounted to take her eggs or young. Arrived
at the place, he cautiously inserted his hand, which presently came
into contact with something smooth and soft. He guessed it might be the
callow young, but hesitating to trust it, he descended, and proceeded
to cut a stick, keeping his eye on the orifice, from which the old bird
had not yet flown. Having again mounted, he thrust in the stick and
forced off the whole upper part of the structure, disclosing to his
utter discomfiture and terror, an enormous Yellow Snake, about whose
jaws the feathers of the swallowed Parroquet were still adhering, while
more of her plumage scattered in the nest revealed her unhappy fate.
The serpent instantly darted down the tree, and the astonished youth,
certainly not _less_ terrified, also descended with precipitation, and
ran as if for life from the scene.

The food of this species consists of various fruits and seeds. The
fiddle-wood, burn-wood, fig, and pride of China, afford it plentiful
and agreeable nutriment. It cuts into the plantains, both when green
and ripe; and its fondness for the sweet and spicy berries of the
pimento renders it the abhorrence of the planter. I have seen it on
the top of a guava-tree holding something in its foot, which it cut to
pieces with its beak and fed upon; probably the young fruit. When the
prickly-yellow is in seed, the Parroquets come in flocks to eat of it;
when they lose their wonted wariness. I have known them to resort to
a large tree, overhanging the public road, day after day; the passing
by of persons beneath causing little observation; generally, however,
they would utter a screech or two, and then go on feeding. I have shot
several individuals from this tree in succession, yet in a few minutes
the flock would be there again.

Often when mortally wounded by a shot, the grasp of the climbing feet,
by which the bird was hanging from the twigs, becomes convulsively
tightened, and the falling body is seen suspended head downward; for
some minutes, often longer, it thus remains, the wings now and then
giving an ineffectual flutter, till at last one foot relaxes its hold,
and then the other, and the bird falls heavily to the ground. They are
often sought for the table, and I can speak from personal knowledge to
their juiciness and flavour, especially in the pimento season.

The flight of these birds is swift and rushing; in mid air they have
a habit of suddenly deviating from the straight line of their course,
making a sharp doubling, and then pursuing the same direction as
before. They go in flocks, usually above the trees, and utter harsh
screams as they fly. The sexes are precisely alike in plumage.


                        BLACK-BILLED PARROT.[76]

                          _Psittacus agilis._

        _Psittacus agilis_,           +Gmel.+—Le Vaill. Perr. 105.
      ? _Psittacus æstivus_, var. α.  +Lath.+ Syn.
      ?     ”         ”      var. δ.  Ibid.

  [76] Length 13¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 20¹⁄₄, flexure 6⁴⁄₁₀, tail 3¹⁄₄,
  rictus ⁸⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀. Irides dark hazel: cere
  blackish ash-colour.

All the Parrots are gregarious, cunning, watchful, noisy, mischievous;
and thus are like the Monkeys. This and the following species are so
much alike in manners and general appearance, that a description of one
applies nearly to the other. Flocks varying from half-a-dozen to twenty
or thirty, fly hither and thither over the forest, screeching as they
go, and all alight together on some tree covered with berries. Here
they feast, but with caution; on a slight alarm one screams, and the
whole flock is on the wing, vociferous if not musical; and brilliant
if not beautiful; particularly when the sun shines on their green backs
and crimsoned wings. They generally prefer lofty trees, except when,
in June, the ripe yellow plantain tempts them to descend, or when the
black berry shines upon the pimento. Of the latter, the flocks devour
an immense quantity, and the former they destroy by cutting it to
pieces with their powerful beaks, to get at the small seeds.

One day in January, when the pimento on the brow of Bluefields Mountain
was about ready for picking, being full-sized, but yet green and hard,
I observed large flocks of Black-bills and a few Parroquets, flying to
and fro with voluble chatter, now alighting to feed on the hot aromatic
berry, now flying off, and wheeling round to the same neighbourhood
again. They were not at all shy, but, with unusual carelessness of
our proximity, scarcely moved at the report of the gun which brought
their companions to the ground. Of two which I shot on this occasion,
I found the craws stuffed with the cotyledons of the seed alone, the
most pungently aromatic part of the berry; the fleshy part having been,
as I presume, shorn off by the beak and rejected. When alighted, as
is often the case, on a dry branch, their emerald hue is conspicuous,
and affords a fair mark for the gunner; but in a tree of full foliage,
their colour proves an excellent concealment. They seem aware of this,
and their sagacity prompts them frequently to rely on it for security.
Often we hear their voices proceeding from a certain tree, or else have
marked the descent of a flock upon it, but on proceeding to the spot,
though the eye has not wandered from it, and we are therefore sure that
they are there, we cannot discover an individual. We go close to the
tree, but all is silent, and still as death; we institute a careful
survey of every part with the eye, to detect the slightest motion, or
the form of a bird among the leaves, but in vain; we begin to think
that they have stolen off unperceived, but on throwing a stone into the
tree, a dozen throats burst forth into cry, and as many green birds
rush forth upon the wing.

The screaming of this and the following species differs from that
of the Parroquet, so far as to be easily distinguished. That of the
latter consists of a series of harsh screeches, of comparative length;
that of the Parrots is less shrill, more broken into short and rapid
articulations, forming series of varying length, separated by momentary
pauses. It is, in fact, much more like a hurried chattering.

In some specimens, the patch of bright scarlet in the centre of the
wing, is diminished to a slight tinge on the edge, or even entirely
wanting. This is not a difference of sex, but probably of age.

I cannot well identify our Black-bill with Latham’s “Jamaica
Black-billed Green Parrot;” he calls it var. α of _Æstivus_, which it
surely is not; var. δ agrees in other particulars. Ours seems, as it
were, made up of both descriptions.


                       YELLOW-BILLED PARROT.[77]

                       _Psittacus leucocephalus._

      _Psittacus leucocephalus_,        +Linn.+—Pl. Enl. 549.
      _Psittacus collarius_, (young?)   Ibid.

  [77] Length 13¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 22³⁄₄, flexure 7¹⁄₄, tail 4²⁄₁₀,
  rictus 1, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁶⁄₁₀. Irides dark hazel; cere
  and eyelids greyish-white. Sexes exactly alike.

The Yellow-bill is less common than either of the only two preceding,
but its habits are the same. The same fruits supply it with food, but
in addition, it divides the oranges, to procure the pips, and even cuts
the acrid cashew-nut, to extract the kernel; which the others will not
do.

The present and the preceding species build in holes in lofty trees;
often a hollow bread-nut is chosen, and often the capacious and
comfortable cavity chiselled out by the Woodpecker. Four eggs are
usually laid; and when the green feathers begin to clothe the callow
heads of the promising family, they are too often taken by some daring
youth, who having watched the parent to her hole, climbs the giddy
elevation. He feeds the young with ripe plantain or banana, till they
approach maturity, and their appetites can digest plainer food; for
when grown they will eat almost anything.

All the three species learn to speak, but the Parroquet is barely
intelligible; the Black-bill is the most docile, but the beauty and
superior size of the Yellow-bill causes it to be preferred for the
cage. One in full plumage, and able to articulate with distinctness,
usually fetches about twenty shillings in the towns.

Robinson, in enumerating the Jamaican _Psittacidæ_, distinguishing them
from introduced specimens, mentions in addition to those I have given,
“the Mountain Parroquet.” (MSS. ii. 88.)


                  +Fam.+—PICIDÆ.—(_The Woodpeckers._)

                     YELLOW-BELLIED WOODPECKER.[78]

                        _Picus varius._—+Linn.+

                             Aud pl. 190.

  [78] Length 8³⁄₄ inches, expanse 15¹⁄₂, flexure 5, tail 3¹⁄₄,
  rictus 1²⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹⁷⁄₂₀, middle toe ¹⁸⁄₂₀

Four or five specimens of this beautiful Woodpecker, all females,
occurred to us, in the months of December, January, and February;
but at no other time was it seen. I have no doubt it is a winter
migrant from the northern continent, where, however, Wilson states
that it abides all the year. I have nothing to give of its history:
its manners, as far as observed, were those common to the tribe; the
stomachs of such as I dissected, contained wood-boring larvæ.


                       RADIOLATED WOODPECKER.[79]

                     _Centurus radiolatus._—+Wagl.+

                               Edw. 244.

  [79] Length 11 inches, expanse 17³⁄₄, flexure 5¹⁄₂, tail 3⁷⁄₁₀,
  rictus 1¹³⁄₂₀, tarsus 1²⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀, versatile toe 1³⁄₁₀,
  nearly. Irides bright hazel, or scarlet.

This species greatly resembles the Red-bellied Woodpecker of Wilson,
(_C. Carolinus_,) from which it may be distinguished by the plumage of
the rump and tail-coverts being barred as the back, and the tail being
black, with the two middle feathers crossed by narrow bars of white on
their inner vanes, and the outmost feathers spotted with white on the
outer edge.

This is among the commonest of Jamaican birds, being abundant in all
situations, from the shores to the summits of the mountains. His loud
screams as he darts along from one dead tree to another, perpetually
betray his proximity even before we see him. Like the rest of his
tribe, his flight consists of a series of undulations, or rather a
succession of arcs of a circle, performed by alternate strokes and
closures of the wings. Though rapid and rushing in its character,
it does not extend to long distances, nor does it appear capable of
protraction, the wings having the shortness and hollowness which mark
a subordinate power of flight. Occasionally he alights on a horizontal
branch, but if so, it is lengthwise, not across, as other birds
perch; neither does he stand up on the toes, elevating the tarsi, but
squats down close to the wood, clinging rather than perching. Far more
usually, however, he flies direct to the trunk, on whose perpendicular
side he alights as suddenly as if he had been stuck there, and either
commences rapping with his powerful beak, or hops upward till he
finds a more promising scene of operations. If he wishes to descend,
which he does but seldom, it is backward and in a diagonal direction;
or sometimes he turns, so as to come down sideways, but it is never
more than a short distance, and is performed so awkwardly, and in
so scrambling a manner, as to indicate that he is not formed for
descending.

His food is not confined to boring larvæ; the large red ants, so common
in the woods, I have found numerous in his stomach; and at other
times, hard strong seeds enclosed in a scarlet pulpy skin. In March
we sometimes find him filled with the white pulp and oval seeds of
the sour-sop. He is said to feed on the beautiful cherries (_Cordia
collococca_) which in brilliant bunches are ripe at the same season;
and I have seen him engaged in picking off the pretty crimson berries,
that hang like clusters of miniature grapes from the fiddlewood
(_Cytharaxylon_). Sometimes he extracts the pulp of the orange, having
cut a hole through the rind; and mangoes he eats in the autumn. He does
damage to the sugar-cane, by chiselling away the woody exterior, and
sucking out the juice, and gets shot for this feat, by the owners.

I have never seen the nest, but I have seen the bird go in and out of a
round hole, far up the stipe of a dead cocoa-nut palm, where doubtless
it was nesting.


                   +Fam.+—CUCULIDÆ.—(_The Cuckoos._)

                             RAINBIRD.[80]

                          _Saurothera vetula._

          _Cuculus vetula_,           +Linn.+—Pl. Enl. 772.
          _Saurothera vetula_,        +Vieill.+—Gal. Ois. 38.

  [80] Length 15¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 14³⁄₁₀, flexure 4⁶⁄₁₀, tail 6³⁄₄,
  rictus 2¹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀. Intestine 16 inches,
  very tender; two cæca, about 2 inches long. Irides hazel; orbits
  scarlet. The sexes exactly alike.

Interesting to myself, as being the first bird that I obtained in
Jamaica, I mention the fact, because the mode in which I procured it is
illustrative of one of its most remarkable characteristics. A day or
two after my arrival, I was taking a ramble with a little lad, who was
delighted to be my pioneer and assistant; we had climbed a hill which
was clothed with large timber, so densely matted with lianes and briers
as to be almost impenetrable. We had, however, got into the thickest of
it, when a large and handsome bird with a long tail, beautifully barred
with black and white, appeared on a low shrub within a few feet of
us, watching our motions with much apparent interest. My little friend
informed me that it was a Rainbird, but that it had received also the
title of _Tom Fool_, from its silly habit of gratifying its curiosity,
instead of securing its safety. Without wasting many words, however,
the youth picked up a “rock-stone,” as pebbles are called in Jamaica,
and delivered the missile with so skilful an aim, that the bird dropped
to the ground, and became the first-fruits of an ornithological
collection.

I have often seen the bird since, and always with the same manners,
jumping from twig to twig, or climbing with facility up the slender
stems of the young trees, gazing at the intruder; and if driven away,
flying only a few yards, and again peeping as before. It is little seen
except where the woods are high, but is widely scattered on mountain as
well as lowland.

The wings are remarkably short and hollow, like those of the
Gallinaceæ, the bird displaying the unusual phenomenon of a length
greater than the expanse. Conformably to this, the bird is seldom seen
to fly except from tree to tree; more usually leaping in a hurried
manner along the branches, or proceeding up the perpendicular bole by
short jumps. When it does fly, it glides nearly in a straight line,
without flapping the wings. It often sits on a branch in a remarkable
posture, the head lower than the feet, and the long tail hanging nearly
perpendicularly downward. When sitting it now and then utters a loud
and harsh cackle, unvarying in note, but increasing in the rapidity
of its emission; and sometimes this sound is produced during its short
flights. All the time of this effusion, the beak is held widely opened.
It may be imitated in some degree, by repeating the syllables, _ticky
ticky ticky_, for about a minute, as rapidly as they can be uttered.
It is frequently seen on the ground in morasses and woods, when it
proceeds by a succession of bounds, the long tail held somewhat high,
the head low: the tail is jerked forward by the impulse at each pause
of motion; and the whole action is like that of the _Crotophaga_.

When held, it is fierce, trying with widely opened beak to bite, and
uttering angry screams; the tail expanded. A male, which had been
knocked down with a stone, but not much hurt, on being put into a cage,
was outrageous when one’s hand was placed near the wires, dashing from
side to side, now and then snapping at the hand, and snarling all the
while, exactly in the tone of an angry puppy.

It is extremely retentive of life; sometimes when a wounded one has
come into my possession, I have been distressed at the vain efforts
that I have made to deprive it of life, without absolute destruction of
the specimen. The craw is large and protuberant, below the sternum, and
is usually much distended. I have found in various individuals large
caterpillars, locusts, _phasmata_, spiders, _phryni_, a _whole mouse_,
lizards, &c. Robinson found in one a large Green Anolis, eight inches
long, coiled up in a spiral manner, the head being in the centre. He
says it bruises the heads of lizards, and then swallows them head
foremost, and the stomach being of a roundish form, he conjectures that
the lizard must necessarily be coiled in this manner. Mr. Hill had one
alive for several weeks; it seized cockroaches and other insects, when
put into its box, and ate fresh meat, if chopped small.

I know nothing of the nest, except what the following note may
afford. A young friend informs me that he once observed a Rainbird
carrying “trash” into the hollow or fork of the divergent limbs of a
logwood tree. Some little while after, passing that way, he observed
a nest-like accumulation of similar substances, but as it was beyond
reach, he took a long stick to poke it out. In doing so, he pushed
out an egg, which was about as long as that of the Tinkling, but not
so broad: its colour white with many spots, but he had no distinct
recollection of what hue they were.

“When pairing,” observes Mr. Hill, “the male bird attracts the female
by gracefully displaying his plumage. His long graduated tail, which
insensibly blends tints of drab-grey with black, and terminates with
a border of white, is then seen expanded. The short rufous wings are
spread out, and the whole plumage, from the sage-grey, hair-like,
downy web of the back, to the soft, dull yellow under feathers, are in
motion, as the bird endeavours by playful dalliance to win his mate’s
attention.”


                              HUNTER.[81]

                         _Old Man._—_Rainbird._

                           _Piaya pluvialis._

          _Cuculus pluvialis_,        +Gm.+—Sloane. pl. 258.
          _Piaya pluvialis_,          +Lesson+.

  [81] Length 19¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 19¹⁄₂, flexure 7¹⁄₂, tail
  11³⁄₄, rictus 2, tarsus 1³⁄₄, middle toe 1¹⁄₂. Irides hazel;
  feet bluish grey; beak black, gonys pale grey. Plumage extremely
  loose and unwebbed. Head dark grey, merging on the neck into dark
  greyish-green, which is the hue of the back, rump, and wings, with
  metallic gloss. Tail feathers broad, graduated, glossy black,
  tipped with white, broadly on the outmost. Throat and breast white,
  the latter greyish; the remaining under parts deep red-brown.
  Eyelids blackish. Interior of mouth black.

The appellation of Rainbird is indiscriminately applied to both this
and the preceding, as is, in a less degree, that of Old Man. I use
a term by which I have heard it distinguished, in St. Elizabeth’s,
perhaps derived from the perseverance with which it “hunts” (i. e.
searches) for its prey.

The manners of this fine bird greatly resemble those of its relative,
and its prey is also similar. It is a bird of large size and imposing
aspect, and its puffed plumage and long barred tail give it an
appearance of even greater magnitude than it possesses. Its voice is
sometimes a cackling repetition of one sound, increasing in rapidity
until the separate notes are undistinguishable. At other times it is a
hoarse croaking. The craw projects below the sternum, and the skin of
that part of the abdomen is destitute of feathers and even of down.

The obesity of this bird is often extraordinary; I have seen the fat
lying over the bowels, between the stomach and the vent, three-fourths
of an inch thick. When alive, it has a strong musky odour, like that of
the John-crow.

“In the changes of our mountain roads,” remarks Mr. Hill, “from deep
masses of shadowy forest, with prodigious trees overgrown with moss,
and climbing shrubs and lianes, to luxuriant and park-like pastures,
flowery hedgerows and shrubby thickets,—two sounds, remarkable and
different from each other, prevail. The one is the tapping of the
Woodpecker, broken in its measured monotony by an occasional scream;
and the other the rattle of the Rainbird, varied by a cry at intervals
like the caw of the Crow tribe. The deep forest is the haunt of the
Woodpecker,—the open thickets the resort of the Rainbird. The insects
which form the food of the one, are those that subsist out of the
sun-light, and perforate the alburnum of trees, or live beneath the
bark; those that are the prey of the other, are the tribes that find
their sustenance on the surface of vegetation, exist in the shade, and
only resort to the open air to shift from place to place.”


                       YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO.[82]

                              _May-bird._

                         _Coccyzus Americanus._

          _Cuculus Americanus_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 2.
          _Cuculus Carolinensis_,     +Wils.+
          _Coccyzus Americanus_,      +Vieill.+
          _Erythrophrys Americanus_,  +Sw.+

  [82] Length 13 inches, expanse 16¹⁄₂, flexure 5⁴⁄₁₀, tail 5¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1²⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe 1.

All our Cuckoos but the present are permanent residents; this is but a
summer visitor. Nor is it at any time very common, a few only taking
up their abode with us, while their brethren continue their vernal
migration from the southern to the northern continent. In the “Notes
of a Year,” before quoted, Mr. Hill has the following observations on
this species. “The visit of the May-bird is one of the precursors of
the spring rains in this island. The hazy atmosphere which precedes
the showers of the vernal season, has already dimmed the usual lustre
of the sky; the winds have ceased; the heat has begun to be irritably
oppressive; the air to assume a steamy denseness, hot and heavy; the
butterflies have left the parched and blighted pastures to congregate
wherever they can find any kind of moisture, and the insects to attract
the Nightjars to the lowlands, when the stuttering voice of this
Yellow-billed Cuckoo is heard among the prognostics of the coming rain.

“The May-bird, unlike the other Cuckoos with us, that never migrate,
prefers straggling trees by the wayside to hedgerow thickets. With
the first rain that falls, the hedge-trees, cleared of their dust,
have begun to put forth fresh foliage, and to form those closer
bowers favourable to the shy and solitary habits of this bird. It is
[comparatively] long-winged, and its swift arrowy flight might be
mistaken for that of some of the wild-pigeons. It ranges excursively,
and flies horizontally with a noiseless speed, dropping on the
topmost stems of trees, or descending into the middlemost branches.
When alighting, it betrays its presence by a sound like the drawling
_cuck-cuck-cuck_ of a sauntering barn-door fowl.”

One which was slightly wounded, on being put into a cage with some
Pea-doves, began to attack them by munching out their feathers. It
was therefore placed by itself, when it sat moody and motionless;
attempting occasionally, however, to seize cockroaches which were put
in to it, and biting spitefully at the hand when approached.

In skinning this bird, an operation very difficult from the tenderness
of the skin, my attention was called to a number of Entozoa, which were
writhing about on the surface of the sclerotica of the eyes, within
the orbit. They were very active, about half an inch long, and as
thick as a horse-hair. Under a lens, they appeared whitish, pellucid,
cylindrical, but tapered at each end; the intestinal canal distinctly
visible, much corrugated and in motion. There were traces of transverse
wrinkles. Sam informed me that he had observed them once before in the
eyes of the same species.


                        BLACK-EARED CUCKOO.[83]

                         _Coccyzus seniculus._

          _Cuculus seniculus_,        +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 169.
          _Erythrophrys seniculis_,   +Sw.+

  [83] Length 12¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 15¹⁄₂, flexure 5, tail 6³⁄₄,
  rictus 1⁴⁄₁₀. tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀, versatile toe ⁹⁄₁₀.
  Intestine 10 inches; two cæca, 1¹⁄₄ inch long, about 1¹⁄₂ inch from
  cloaca.

The tawny underparts, contrasted with the sober grey of the upper,
glossed like shot-silk, and the long tail beautifully barred with black
and white, render the subject before us one of the handsomest of this
genus of Cuckoos. It is a dull, and, so to speak, a stupid bird; we
not unfrequently see it suddenly fly out from the woods, and crossing
the road rest on a branch at a short distance, where it sits little
disturbed by the proximity of passengers: or jumps to another twig
near, and thence to another. I have never heard it utter a sound. It
lives on soft insects, large spiders, &c., which are stationary, and
which it seeks by thus peeping among the trees, and for the capture of
which long flights would be unnecessary.

I know nothing of its domestic economy; but in January I have found
eggs in the ovary, as large as dust-shot.

The shortness of the intestinal canal, and its freedom from
convolutions is remarkable, and struck me forcibly by comparison with
that of a White-winged Dove, which I happened to dissect on the same
day with this. The length of the intestine in the granivorous bird was
forty-one inches, that in the insectivorous, ten.


                         SAVANNA BLACKBIRD.[84]

                       _Crotophaga Ani._—+Linn.+

                             Pl. Enl. 102.

  [84] Length 14³⁄₄ inches, expanse 17³⁄₄, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 7³⁄₄,
  rictus 1³⁄₁₀, height of beak ⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁹⁄₁₀.

  Irides deep hazel, feet black; beak black, the ridge
  semitransparent, furrowed perpendicularly. Plumage black, with
  rich purple reflections, most conspicuous on the wing-quills; the
  clothing feathers have the disk of an intense black, with a lighter
  border, brilliantly iridescent; the borders on the neck are larger
  in proportion, and are sometimes brassy.

  Intestine 12 inches; two cæca, 1¹⁄₂ inch long, 2 inches from the
  cloaca.

  The young have not the scaly character of the plumage, nor any
  ridge upon the beak.

In all open places, but particularly savannas and pastures which are
occupied by cattle or horses, these birds are seen all day long, and
all the year round. They are perhaps the most common of the birds
of Jamaica. Familiar and impudent, though very wary, they permit a
considerable acquaintance with their manners, while an approach within
a limited distance, in a moment sets the whole flock upon the wing,
with a singular cry, which the negroes please to express by the words,
_going-awa-a-ay_, but which may be as well described, according to
the fancy of the hearer, as _How-d’ye?_ or _Anī_. The appearance of
the bird in its gliding flights is unusual; the body is slender, the
head large, and the beak enormous; and as in flying it assumes a
perfectly straight form, with the long tail in the same line, without
flapping the wings, it takes the aspect, on a side view, rather of a
fish than of a bird. The centre of the upper mandible is hollow, and
the surrounding part is composed of cells of very thin bone, as is the
lower mandible. It thus bears a great resemblance to the beaks of the
Toucans and Hornbills. The belly is thin and lank, and the bird, even
though fat, has always the appearance of meagreness: the shabbiness of
the downy feathers that clothe the belly and the long tibiæ, adds to
this effect. In these particulars, as well as in general aspect and
manners, the Blackbird displays a strong affinity to the Cuckoos and
Toucans; indeed, if I may judge from a living _Rhamphastos carinatus_
which was some time in my possession, it seems nearer to the latter
than to the former.

The food of our Blackbird, though consisting mainly of insects, is
not confined to them. We usually find the stomach distended with
caterpillars, moths, grasshoppers, beetles, and other insects, to such
a degree that we wonder how the mass could have been forced in. But I
have found these contents mixed up with, and stained by the berries of
the snake-withe; and in July I have found the stomach crammed with the
berries of the fiddle-wood, (_Cytharaxylon_,) which had stained the
whole inner surface of a bright crimson. Flocks of these birds were
at that time feeding on the glowing clusters profusely ripe upon the
trees. Stationary insects are the staple food; to obtain which, they
hop about grassy places, and are often seen to jump, or to run eagerly
at their prey; on which occasions the long tail, continuing the given
motion after the body has stopped, is thrown forward in an odd manner,
sometimes nearly turning the bird head over heels. It is probably to
protect the eyes from the stalks of weeds and blades of grass in these
headlong leaps, that the projecting brows are furnished with a row
of short but very stiff overhanging bristles; but what purpose was
served by the high and thin knife-blade of a beak, I was ignorant, till
informed by Mr. Hill, who observes that it “enables the bird to open
out the soft earth, and seek for its insect food; it also facilitates
its access to the vermin imbedded in the long close hair of animals. I
am assured,” he adds, “that if a patch of cows’ dung be examined after
Crotophagas have been searching for the larvæ of insects, it will be
found furrowed as if a miniature plough had passed through it.”

The form of this organ has given occasion, in Hayti, where also it is
common, to the appellation of “bout de tabac,” that is “bowl of tobacco
pipe;” it is also called there _Judeo_.

The name _Crotophaga_, (tick-eater,) is no misnomer, as has been,
without foundation, asserted by some who never saw the living bird.
Almost every one in Jamaica is aware that the Savanna Blackbird, as
well as the Grakle, feeds on the parasites of cattle. I made particular
inquiries about this soon after my arrival, and was assured of the fact
by persons who had witnessed it multitudes of times, and who could not
“mistake” the Blackbird for the Grakle, their whole form, voice, and
motions, being different.

Afterwards, however, I had repeated opportunities of personal
observation on this point. One day I noticed a cow lying down, around
which were four or five Blackbirds, hopping on and off her back, and
eagerly picking the insects from her body; which service seemed in no
wise unpleasing to her. I have also seen them leaping up on cows when
grazing; and, on another occasion, jumping to and from a horse’s back;
and my lad Sam has repeatedly observed them clinging to a cow’s tail,
and picking insects from it, as far down as the terminal tuft. Had
cattle been pastured near where I resided, I should doubtless have had
many more ocular demonstrations: but the evidence is amply sufficient.
In some of these cases, the occurrence was close to me, so that there
was no possibility of deception, especially as, being aware of the
conflicting statement, I looked with the more interest to satisfy
myself.

But stationary insects are not the only prey of the Crotophaga; in
December, I have seen little groups of them engaged in the evenings,
leaping up from the pasture about a yard into the air, doubtless after
flying insects, which they seemed to catch. One day in March as I sat
at dinner, my attention was arrested by what seemed to be a green
bird chased by several Crotophagas, near the top of a lofty tree at
some distance, I presently saw that it was a very large lepidopterous
insect; it flew over the woods about a quarter of a mile before I lost
sight of it, when it appeared to alight on the top of a tree. The birds
did not pursue the chase far. I have seen one with a dragon-fly in its
beak, which it had just caught, but it may have been while resting. At
another time I saw that a Blackbird had actually made prey of one of
our little nimble lizards (_Anolis_). These circumstances show, that
like the Toucans, the Ani is to some extent omnivorous.

Though its usual mode of progression on the ground is by hopping, or
rather bounding, the feet being lifted together, the Blackbird is seen
occasionally to _run_ in a headlong manner for a short distance, moving
the feet alternately. He is fond of sitting in the morning sun on a low
tree with the wings expanded; remaining there perfectly still for a
considerable time. In the heat of the day, in July and August, many may
be seen in the lowland plains, sitting on the fences and logwood hedges
with the beaks wide open, as if gasping for air; they then forget
their usual loquacity and wariness. Often two or three will sit in the
centre of a thick bush, overhung with a matted drapery of convolvolus,
whence they utter their singular cry in a calling tone, as if they were
playing at hide-and-seek, and requiring their fellows to come and find
them.

The statement that the Blackbird builds in company, forming an
immense nest of basket-work by the united labours of the flock, is
universally maintained by the inhabitants of the colony. It is said to
be usually on a high tree, where many parents bring forth and educate
a common family. Mr. Hill, whose statements in Jamaican Ornithology
are worthy of unlimited confidence, observes: “Some half-a-dozen
of them together build but one nest, which is large and capacious
enough for them to resort to in common, and to rear their young ones
together. They are extremely attentive to the business of incubation,
and never quit the nest, while sitting, without covering the eggs with
leaves, to preserve them at an equal temperature.” The only instance
in which I ever met with a nest, while it is not conclusive, is
rather in favour of this opinion than the opposite. In July I found a
Blackbirds’ nest in a Bastard Cedar (_Guazuma_); it was a rather large
mass of interwoven twigs lined with leaves. _Eight_ eggs were in the
nest, and the shells of _many more_ were also in it, and scattered
beneath the tree. The eggs were about as large as a pullet’s, very
regularly oval, of a greenish blue, but covered with a coating of
white chalky substance, which was much scratched and eroded on them
all, and which was displaced with little force. On being broken, the
interior was peculiar; the glaire was less tenacious than usual, but
more jelly-like, yet at the same time thinner in consistence; but
what surprised me was, that in each egg this glaire filled at least
three-fourths of the whole space, while the yolk, flattened in form,
not larger in diameter than a coat-button-mould, and about twice as
thick, was adhering to one side and end. It was pale, and resembled in
appearance that of a hen’s egg, when just turned by boiling. I examined
several, and found all alike.

I close this account with some pleasing notes of the species by Mr.
Hill. “Though the Savanna Blackbird is classed among the scansorial or
climbing tribe of birds, and has the yoke-formed foot,—like another
class of the Cuckoo tribe among us, of which we have four or five
different kinds,—it is generally a downward, not an upward climber.
It enters a tree by alighting on the extremity of some main branch,
and gains the centre of the foliage by creeping along the stem, and
searching for its insect food. Unlike, however, our Cuckoos, which are
solitary-feeding birds, it does not range from stem to stem, and search
the tree through. The Blackbirds, moving in flocks of half-dozens,
tens, and twelves, seldom penetrate far among the leaves. They glance
along the branches rapidly, and silently quit the tree they have
visited, by dropping one by one on some inviting spot on the green
sward under them, or start away suddenly, the whole possé together, to
some near-by thicket, to which one among them generally leads with that
peculiar shrill and screaming cry that distinguishes them from every
other bird of the field.

“These Savanna Blackbirds are favourites with me. Other winged
wanderers have their season, but these are the tenants of the field all
the year round. Their life is in the sunshine. Wherever there are open
lands in tillage or pasture, with intermingled trees and shrubs, there
these social birds frequent:—always familiar and seemingly fearless,
but never omitting to set their sentinel watchmen to sound their cry
when any one obtrudes nearer upon them than to a certain space within
their social haunts.

“After a passing fall of rain, one of our sudden mid-day thunder
showers for instance, when the full burst of sunshine, bright and
fierce, breaks again on the freshened landscape;—the first bird seen
creeping out from the thicket to dry his wings, and regain the fields,
is the Savanna Blackbird. The Mocking-bird, ready as he is with his
song, to gladden the landscape once more, is seldom before the shrill
Blackbird, in breaking the hush that succeeds the overpast shower.
_Que-yuch, que-yuch, que-yuch_ is heard from some embowered clump not
far off, and a little stream of Blackbirds, with their long tails
and short gliding wings outstretched in flight, are seen straggling
away to some spot, where insect-life is stirring, in the fresh, damp,
and exuberant earth. The sun is levelling its slant beam along the
plains, and the sea-breeze is breathing fresh and fragrant with a
sense of reviving moisture from the afternoon showers, _que-yuch,
que-yuch, que-yuch_ is heard again, hastily and anxiously repeated;
and the little birds are seen scrambling into the hedge-rows, and the
Blackbirds are pushing from the outer limbs of the solitary thicket,
from whence they sounded their cry of alarm, to gain the inward covert
of the leaves. A hawk with silent stealth is skimming along the
bordering woodland, gliding occasionally downward to the lesser bushes
in the Savanna. The tocsin of the Blackbird, however, has warned the
whole field, and not a voice is heard, and not a wing is stirring.

“In the hot and sultry days when the dews have ceased to fall, and all
vegetation is parched and languid, the Blackbirds are seen wending
their way at an early hour of the afternoon to the riverside, trooping
in little parties. They have found some spot where an uprooted tree
has grounded in the shallow stream. Here they are perched, some tail
upward, drinking from the gliding waters below, some silent and
drooping, some pluming themselves, and some in the sands that have
shoaled about the embedded trunk of the tree, washing in the little
half-inch depths of water. They will continue here till sunset, when
they will start off laggingly, the signal being first given by some one
of the flock, who has announced, that it is time to seek their coverts
for the night, with the still peculiar cry of _que-yuch_.”

I am inclined to attach very little importance to the wrinkles on the
beak as indicating specific difference: these, as well as the form and
size of the organ, varying considerably in individuals from the same
locality; the result, I have no doubt, of age.




                    +Order.+—GYRANTES. (_Circlers._)

                   +Fam.+—COLUMBADÆ. (_The pigeons._)

                         RING-TAIL PIGEON.[85]

                          _Columba Caribbea._

          _Columba Caribbea_,         +Linn.+—Temm. Pig. pl. 10.
          _Columba lamprauchen_,      +Wagl.+

  [85] “Length 16 inches, expanse 24, tail 5³⁄₄, tarsus 1, middle
  toe 1³⁄₁₀. Irides brilliant orange; orbits carmine; beak black;
  feet coral-red. Crown, sides of head, and fore-neck, obscure
  reddish-purple; throat white. Back of neck splendid purplish green;
  back, rump, thighs, and parts beneath the wings, pale blue. Basal
  half of tail pale blue, gradually merging into a blackish-blue
  bar, nearly an inch broad, which crosses the feathers; thence
  to the tip, greyish-blue. Wing quills blackish brown, the first
  five edged with white; coverts towards the back, and the pinion
  [winglet?], dull olive; the rest of a very dull blue. Breast and
  belly dull reddish-brown. Weight 10oz. 2dr”—(Robinson, MSS., ii.
  114, abridged.)

Of all our Doves, none is so exclusively arboreal as this. The
Bald-pate, the Blue Pigeon, and the Ring-tail are essentially
tree-doves, but I have seen the first feeding on the ground, and the
second is often seen running; but all who are acquainted with this
bird’s haunts and habits concur in affirming that he is never seen
to put his feet upon the earth. Though it is probable that he must
occasionally procure gravel, to aid in the comminution of his hard
food, and that, when the resources of the wild-pines are exhausted in
the long droughts, he must descend to drink at the mountain ponds, or
gully springs, it seems that he cautiously selects his occasion, when
unwitnessed by human eyes. And yet it is said not to be a shy bird,
nor, at certain times, difficult to obtain by those who have made
themselves acquainted with its habits. It inhabits the most recluse
and dense mountain forests, where few are able to follow it, but the
negro fowlers. The penetration of steep mountain-woods, abounding in
prickly bushes, and tangled, beyond all description, by twining and
pendent lianes, many of which are formidably spinous, where there is
nothing like a pathway, and the ground is strewn with enormous masses
of honey-combed limestone, over whose sharp points the hunter must
often climb at the risk of his neck,—or with a loose rubble that slips
from beneath the feet, and causes continual falls, is an enterprise
that demands no small degree of courage, temper, and perseverance.
The naked feet of the negroes catch hold of the rocky projections,
almost like the hind hands of the monkey, and they can proceed with
rapid and noiseless step; while the shoes of the white man, in his
slow and painful progress, betray, by the displacing of stones, and
the crackling of twigs, his approach to the wary bird, while yet far
away. The musquitoes also, that, thirsting for blood, and swarming in
such situations, dance around his face with their maddening hum, and
soon inflame head, hand, and foot with their pungent stings, make a
tyro long to be out again, almost before he has lost sight of the open
sky of the clearing. But it is the presence of these most annoying
insects, which affords an opportunity of obtaining the highly prized
Ring-tail. This bird appears to suffer more from their stings than
others; or else its superior sagacity has taught it a resource of which
others are ignorant, or unwilling to avail themselves. It is aware that
these little insect-pests cannot abide smoke, and wherever the blue
clouds curl gracefully through the tall trees from the woodman’s fire,
the Ring-tail is said to resort thither, if within the neighbourhood,
and solace itself with a temporary suspension of insect assaults.
But, alas! it is only to expose itself to a more fatal peril, for the
negro sportsmen have marked the habit, and fail not to take advantage
of it. Whenever they have noticed the birds feeding on the berries of
any particular tree, they take an early opportunity of kindling a fire
beneath it, near which they conceal themselves, so as to watch the
tree. The birds begin to arrive, and are shot down by the fowler one
after another; the repeated flashes and reports, and the falls of their
companions, driving the survivors away for a few moments only from the
attractive spot, to which they again and again return till the gunner’s
ambition is satisfied. They are frequently brought to Kingston,
Savanna-le-Mar, and the other towns, and are eagerly purchased for the
table; though, as the distance which they are carried usually prevents
their arrival on the day they are killed, they are almost invariably
deplumed and drawn, and the inside strongly peppered before they are
sent to market. Hence specimens for the naturalist, are to be obtained
only by a special expedition. Of the three superlative delicacies of
which the natives of Jamaica boast, the Ringtail holds the undisputed
pre-eminence. The others are the Fresh-water Mullet, and the Black
Land-crab. Dr. Chamberlaine (Comp. to Jam. Alm. 1840) mentions this
bird as “the most luscious dainty of his class, or of any other. I am
acquainted,” he further observes, “with no bird that the sportsman
pursues, that can be compared to the Ring-tail Pigeon, for the
richness, the delicacy, and the tenderness of his flesh. He is, during
the months of September, October, and November, a mass of luscious fat,
and his plump and well-enveloped flesh acquires for him a superiority
over that of all his tribe.” It is a common thing, at the period of
their high condition, for birds shot from a tall tree to burst asunder
with the fall.

The Ring-tail is stated invariably to perch near the middle of a tree,
usually in the fork of the principal limbs; where, when seated, it will
remain quietly looking down at the fowler, perhaps within a few yards
of his head. The centre of those trees which are clothed with a dense
tangled mass of withes or creepers, is preferred; and it is asserted
that on no occasion is this bird to be seen perched on an exterior twig
or branch. The Blue Pigeon sometimes manifests the same predilection;
but with him it is only when the gusty “norths,” rocking the flexible
branches, would make his seat on them uncomfortable if not insecure.

The Ring-tail will sometimes leave his solitudes, and come down to eat
the berries of missletoe, growing on sour-sop and other trees. A friend
has seen four thus engaged on a tree in the house-yard. It eats the
seed of the yam also in the provision ground.

When the vernal rains have copiously descended, the “negro-yam” sends
out plentifully its young and tender shoots: the tips of these, with
the unopened leaves and buds, are particularly agreeable to this
exquisite bird, and it may often be shot at that season in the grounds
of the mountain slopes. It is, however, then in poor condition.

By an Act of the Colonial Legislature, 10 Ann. xvi. 3, wild pigeons
were forbidden to be killed in the parishes of St. Catherine or St.
John’s, or on any island or kay, in the months of May, June, and July,
under a penalty of forty shillings, or slaves to have thirty-nine
lashes. Since the abolition of slavery, this, as well as many other
laws, of similarly oppressive character, has been repealed.

Robinson found in one, the hard perforated seeds of the small
palmetto-thatch. He mentions also, that in the autumn they owe their
fatness to feeding on the fruit of the trumpet-tree, wild-raspberries,
and wild star-apples. “It is remarkable,” he observes, “that the thighs
[tibiæ?] are twice the length of the legs [tarsi?].”

The unwonted absence of the seasonal rains in the spring of 1846,
rendered my efforts to obtain specimens of this fine bird fruitless,
though I sent experienced persons many times to their usual haunts.
I am therefore compelled to give a description from Dr. Robinson’s
MSS. The preceding accounts, also, are the results, not of personal
observation, but of careful and minute and repeated inquiries. Mr. Hill
writes me that it has been abundant on the Highgate mountains since my
departure.

Temminck asserts that the Ring-tail seems to be spread over the
whole Antilles and _Bahamas_, but is not aware that it exists on the
continent. Mauge found it at Porto Rico, where it is said to associate
in flocks of many hundreds. (!)


                            BLUE PIGEON.[86]

                           _Columba rufina._

          _Columba rufina_,           +Temm.+ Pig. 24.
          _Columba Cayanensis_,       +Bonn.+

  [86] Length 16 inches, expanse 26¹⁄₂, flexure 9¹⁄₄, tail 5³⁄₄,
  rictus 1⁴⁄₁₀, tarsus 1³⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁹⁄₁₀ (including claw ⁵⁄₁₀).
  Iris consists of two circles, the inner one pale blue, the outer
  pale orange, the junction of the colours being marked by a line
  of dark blue. Orbits grey, edges of eyelids dull red. Beak black;
  feet lake-red. Head, neck, breast, and belly, dull reddish-purple.
  Scapulars and inter-scapulars dusky grey. Wings greyish-black;
  secondary greater coverts blue grey, edged with white; mid-coverts
  red-brown, merging into the surrounding colours. Back, rump, and
  tail, slate blue, the latter deepening towards the tip. Chin pale
  grey. Sides, thighs, under wing and tail-coverts, blue grey. Sexes
  barely differing.

The Blue Pigeon is found both on the mountains and in the lowlands.
On the former it seems less to affect the deep forest, than such
woods as skirt cultivated ground. When the purple berries of the
_phytolacca_ are ripe, about the end of the year, these pigeons
flock in considerable numbers to feed at dawn and at evening. About
the same time they are numerous in the lowlands, for I have found
them plentiful in the large morass that extends along the shore from
Crabpond to Parker’s Bay. They were flying about in pairs, for the
most part, among the black mangrove trees, on whose seeds they were
probably feeding. But I found in the stomachs of those which I shot,
the white blossoms of a species of missletoe which is abundant there,
and in one the bean-like seeds of, as I believe, the madjo-bitter
(_Picramnia_). Early in February I visited the mangrove woods of Mount
Edgecumbe morass, to seek these birds. They were rather numerous, but
alighted only on the summits of the tallest trees. Finding that they
were very shy, I seated myself and remained quietly watching. Thus I
obtained several successive shots, as they appeared to come round to
the spot periodically, perhaps once in half-an-hour. Two or three were
in company, and as they flew from tree-top to tree-top, their movements
were announced by a guttural _jug, jug_, and by the loud rushing of
their powerful wings. Frequently one would chase another round the
trees, playfully, which I conjectured to be a symptom of pairing.

The common note of the Blue Pigeon resembles somewhat the barking of a
cur; _bow-wow—wōw_, the last syllable protracted and falling. It is
much like the _Sary-coat-blue_ of the Bald-pate, but the short second
syllable is wanting.

For delicacy and flavour of flesh this species scarcely yields to its
congener, and is but a little less in request. It is dark in hue, but
exquisitely delicious, tender, juicy, and free from bitterness.

It is an arboreal bird, but not quite so exclusively as the Ring-tail.
Like the Bald-pate, he is often shot, by forestalling him at his
feeding tree, before day-break. In form he agrees with the bird just
named; his legs and feet are stout and strong; his head and neck
small and slender; the plumage of his nape forms a sort of ridge. M.
Temminck, probably having never seen the bird alive, and not being
aware of the very singular peculiarity of the iris mentioned in the
note, has given his figure red eyes. The two colours impart a very
unusual character to the physiognomy of the species; it is constant,
not accidental.

About the end of April, I was informed of a Blue Pigeon’s nest on a
lofty limb of an inaccessible cotton tree. It was a more substantial
structure than those of its congeners, being made of dried grass,
or similar material, as well as twigs. A Bald-pate had a nest on
a contiguous tree, and the neighbouring birds were continually
squabbling. I have never seen the eggs.

The Blue Pigeon is said to inhabit not only all the great islands of
the West Indies, but also Guiana.


                             BALD-PATE.[87]

                    (_White-crowned Pigeon._ +Bon.+)

          _Columba leucocephala._     +Linn.+

                             Aud. pl. 177.

  [87] Length 16 inches, expanse 23¹⁄₂, flexure 7³⁄₄, tail 5¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1¹⁄₄, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 2¹⁄₂. Irides cream-white;
  eyelids purplish flesh colour.

This fine dove is common in almost all situations, but chiefly affects
the groves of pimento, which generally adorn the mountain pens. The
sweet aromatic berries afford him abundant and delicious food during
the pimento season; the umbrageous trees afford him a concealment
suited to his shy and suspicious character; and on them his mate
prefers to build her rude platform-nest, and rear her tender progeny.
Wary exceedingly, the Bald-pate, from his seat among the topmost twigs,
discerns the gunner, himself unseen, and intimates his vicinity only
by the rushing of his strong wings, as he shoots off to some distant
part of the grove. In the breeding season, however, when alarmed from
the nesting tree, he does not fly far, and soon returns; so that the
sportsman, by concealing himself, and watching the bird’s return, may
bring him down. When the pimento is out of season, he seeks other
food; the berries of the sweetwood, the larger ones of the breadnut,
and burn-wood, of the bastard cedar, and the fig, and the little ruddy
clusters of the fiddle-wood, attract him. He feeds early in the
morning, and late in the afternoon: large numbers resort to a single
tree, (though not strictly gregarious,) and when this is observed, the
sportsman, by going thither before dawn, and lying in wait, may shoot
them one by one, as they arrive. In September and October they are
in fine condition, often exceedingly fat and juicy, and of exquisite
flavour. In March the clammy-cherry displays its showy scarlet racemes,
to which the Bald-pates flock. The Hopping Dick, Woodpecker, and
Guinea-fowl, feed also upon it. In April, Sam tells me he has seen as
many as thirty, almost covering a tree, feeding on berries which he
believes were those of the bully-tree. Late in the year they resort to
the saline morasses, to feed on the seeds of the black-mangrove, which
I have repeatedly found in the craw; I have even seen one descend to
the ground beneath a mangrove, doubtless in search of the fallen seeds.
In general, however, the Bald-pate is an arboreal pigeon, his visits to
the earth being very rare. He often feeds at a distance from home; so
that it is a common thing to observe, just before nightfall, straggling
parties of two or three, or individuals, rushing along with arrowy
swiftness in a straight line to some distant wood.

The Bald-pate is a noble bird; plump, yet of a graceful form; the
iridescent scale-like feathers of his neck, with their black borders,
are very striking: he is staid and sedate in manners, when sitting,
and there is something of supercilious sternness in his countenance,
which, combined with his snow-white head, always reminds me, strange
as the comparison may appear, of the grand Bald-Eagle. His coo is
_Sary̆-coat-blūe_, uttered with much energy, the second syllable short
and suddenly elevated, the last a little protracted and descending.

Incubation takes place chiefly in the months of June and July. In
Bluefields morass many nests are found on the tallest black-mangroves,
and are much robbed by the negro youths, who rear the young for sale:
the native pigeons being, more than any other birds, kept in cages by
the Creoles. The nest is merely a very slight platform of dry twigs,
rudely attached, on which two eggs are laid. They are of delicate
whiteness, in form very regularly oval, and in dimensions 1¹⁄₂ inch by
1¹⁄₁₀. I never heard of its breeding on rocks.

I add a few particulars of some which I kept from early age. I shot
a young one on the 2nd of September, breaking the tarsus; and about
a week afterwards another was brought me which may have been rather
older. The former appeared not to have finally left the nest. Both were
exceedingly ugly; long-necked, thin-bodied, the head not well rounded,
the fleshy part of the beak prominent, and its base unfeathered. The
whole plumage was blackish ash-coloured, each feather slightly tipped
with paler, and the feathers of the head terminating in little curled
grey filaments, which added to the uncouth appearance of the birds. In
a week or two I perceived these filaments were gradually disappearing,
and about the beginning of October the small feathers began to clothe
the base of the beak: these feathers were greyish-white, and at the
same time the grey hue was beginning to spread up the forehead, I
believe by the dropping of the black feathers, and their immediate
replacement by the white ones. About this time also the general plumage
began to assume the blue hue of the adult, in patches; and on the 12th
of October, I first observed the beautiful iridescent feathers of the
neck, but as yet only on one side. These notes refer to the elder; the
other was about two weeks more backward. On the 16th, I first heard it
coo; for some time it had now and then uttered a single note, but on
this day it gave the whole _Sary̆-coat-blūe_, but short, and in a low
tone; and that only once. By the end of November the white had spread
over the whole crown as in the adult, but was not yet so pure or so
smooth. A third, which I purchased in November, though a young one of
the season, having been reared from the nest, was much more mature both
in plumage and size. By the end of that month the crown of this one was
_perfectly_ in the adult plumage, the neck feathers complete on both
sides, the body plump and smooth. This individual, when first put into
the cage, was very cross, pecking at all the others, including some
Pea-doves, whenever they came near him, and even stretching himself
down from his perch to reach them as they walked under him. One or
two of the Pea-doves suffered particularly, for he munched out their
feathers by mouthfuls, laying bare a large portion of their backs. He
soon became more reconciled, but never associated with them, never
descending from his perch all day, except to feed or drink. The other
Bald-pates walked about a good deal with the Pea-doves, and were rather
playful. Any new object they would examine and lay hold of. Their cage,
a capacious packing-box, was lined with paper; somehow or other, a bit
of it was torn up; the Bald-pates were continually pulling at this, and
were not content till they had stripped off a large space. A hole in
the gauze front had been darned with thread; they would take the loose
ends in their beaks and tug at them. Sometimes they would seize a stick
or twig, and drag it about the cage. A White-belly, taken in a springe,
and put with them, would not eat the Indian corn, with which they were
fed, and was supplied with orange-pips: the Bald-pate would run up to
the White-belly when feeding, and playfully endeavour to snatch the
pips from him as he picked them up; when, however, he succeeded in
getting possession of one, he immediately dropped it: it was only the
fun he wanted. If I inserted my finger through the gauze, he would
seize it with his beak, and, as it were, _chew_ it, and tug at it in
various directions, turning, and sometimes quite inverting, his head.
He would always take a grain of corn from my hand, even if he did not
eat it.

Towards the end of the year, all of my Bald-pates used to coo
frequently, and, what is strange, often in the night. When wakeful
from sickness, I have heard it from the adjoining room at intervals,
four or five times during the night: especially on those nights in
January, when the furious _norths_ blow with so much violence; the
bird probably awakened or made uncomfortable by the cold and howling
gusts that penetrate every room, as if they would “blow the house
out of the windows.” On each occasion the whole set of syllables was
repeated twice or thrice in quick succession, preceded by a low note,
and then the former silence was maintained. The imitation of their coo,
which may be very accurately effected, always attracted attention from
the birds, manifested by their eyes turned towards the sound, and their
necks stretched out.


                          WHITEWING DOVE.[88]

                              (_Lapwing._)

                         _Turtur leucopterus._

          _Columba leucoptera_,       +Linn.+—Edw. 76.
          _Zenaida leucoptera_,       +G. R. Gray+.

  [88] 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.[89]

                       (_Zenaida Pigeon._—+Bon.+)

                          _Zenaida amabilis._

          _Columba Zenaida_,          +Bonap.+—Aud. pl. 162.
          _Zenaida amabilis_,         Ibid.

  [89] 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.[90]

                        _Chamæpelia passerina._

          _Columba passerina_,        +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 182.
          _Chamæpelia passerina_,     +Sw.+

  [90] 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.

There is a singular projection on the outline of the inner web of the
fourth primary, in this genus, and more slightly on that of the fifth.
The object of this peculiarity it is not easy to conjecture.

Dr. Robinson, having weighed one, records the weight as one ounce
sixteen grains, troy. He mentions also, what I have not seen, that
“the irides consist of, first, one ring of yellow, then one of black,
a narrower of black, and another of yellow, broader.” (MSS. ii. 97.)
Wilson’s description appears to me to have been taken from a preserved
skin.


                            WHITEBELLY.[91]

                        _Peristera Jamaicensis._

          _Columba Jamaicensis_,      +Linn.+
          _Columba rufaxilla_,        +Rich.+ et +Bern.+
          _Columba frontalis_,        +Temm.+ Pig. 10.

  [91] Length 12³⁄₄ inches, expanse 18³⁄₄, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail
  4¹⁄₂, rictus 1, tarsus 1⁵⁄₁₀, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀, outer and inner
  toes ⁹⁄₁₀. Intestine 30 inches; no cæca. Irides whitish, with a
  granulated appearance, reddish at the outer edge. Feet crimson.
  Beak black. Forehead pure white, becoming slate blue on crown;
  hind-head delicate grey-blue; neck reddish brown, changing to
  amethyst, the lowest feathers brilliant green and purple. Back,
  wing-coverts, and uropygials dusky-brown, with slight reflexions.
  Wing-quills deep brown, the outer edge narrowly white, the basal
  part of inner webs, chestnut; true tail-feathers blue grey, with
  white tips. Under parts pure white, tinged with flesh colour on
  breast: inner surface of wings chestnut. Eyelids bluish, the edges
  and angles dark lake.

This lovely Pigeon is chiefly confined to the upland districts; where
its loud and plaintive cooing makes the woods resound. The negroes
delight to ascribe imaginary words to the voices of birds, and indeed
for the cooings of many of the pigeons, this requires no great stretch
of imagination. The beautiful Whitebelly complains all day, in the
sunshine as well as the storm, “Rain-come-wet-me-through!” each
syllable uttered with a sobbing separateness, and the last prolonged
with such a melancholy fall, as if the poor bird were in the extremity
of suffering. But it is the note of health, of joy, of love; the
utterance of exuberant animal happiness; a portion of that universal
song wherewith “every thing that hath breath may praise the Lord.”
The plumage, as usual in this family, is very soft and smooth, the
expression of the countenance most engagingly meek and gentle. And it
is a gentle bird: I have taken one into my hand, when just caught in
a springe, full grown and in its native wildness; and it has nestled
comfortably down, and permitted its pretty head and neck to be stroked,
without an effort to escape, without a flutter of its wings.

This is one of those species which habitually live on the ground: in
unfrequented woods, as well those which are open, as those which are
choked with underwood, the Whitebelly walks about singly or in pairs
picking up various seeds. About Content, a densely wooded mountain
side, it is very numerous in June and July, feeding on sop-seeds, and
many are taken in springes. The physic-nut forms a large portion of its
food; as well as orange-pips; and fragments of the large seeds of the
mango, chewed by hogs. Its flesh is generally esteemed; it is white,
juicy, and well-flavoured, without being liable to bitterness.

As it walks to and fro, it frequently flirts the head and tail, but not
so markedly as the Pea-dove. If flushed, it betakes itself to a low
tree not far off, whence, if unmolested, it is soon down again. Often
when seen in the woods, it runs a few yards, and then rises to fly, but
as if trusting less to its powers of flight than to those of running,
alights again immediately, and runs swiftly off among the bushes. It
has no regular roosting-place, often spending the night on a stone,
or a log, or a low bush that happens to be near the spot where it was
feeding at nightfall. This is not the case with the other Doves.

The aspect and air of the Whitebelly are unlike those of its kindred.
Its round head, the prevalence of light hues, and its height upon the
legs, contribute to this peculiarity. Essentially a ground-pigeon, its
length of tarsus enables it to run with ease and celerity; perhaps more
rapidly than any other of the family.

Unlike the tree-doves, the Whitebelly usually builds in rather a
low situation; often a logwood, a favourite tree with this, and the
Whitewing. If in the large woods, one of moderate height is chosen.
The nest consists of a few loose sticks, with some leaves in the
centre; the eggs are white.


                          MOUNTAIN WITCH.[92]

          _Geotrygon sylvatica_,      +Mihi.+

  [92] +Geotrygon.+ _Generic Character._—Beak robust, rather long;
  both mandibles strongly arched at the tip; nostrils opening far
  forward. Wings short, and rounded: third quill longest; second and
  following quills strongly and abruptly sinuated on the outer edge;
  first quill sickle-shaped, not attenuated. Tail nearly even, short,
  (viz. less than thrice the length of the tarsus). Tarsus longer
  than middle toe, unfeathered, covered in front with transverse
  plates. Inner toe longer than outer; hallux shorter than outer toe.
  General form stout and plump.

  _G. Sylvatica._ Length 12 inches, expanse 19, flexure 6¹⁄₂, tail 4,
  rictus 1, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Irides blood-red; orbits
  grey, edge of eyelids scarlet; beak reddish-black; feet pale flesh
  colour, front of tarsi and of toes, pink, claws blackish, small and
  blunt. Head high and sub-conical; feathers of occiput projecting
  and overhanging the neck, as if a notch had been cut with scissors;
  or still more, as if the head were covered with a hood which hung
  down behind. Forehead blackish grey, softening into a brownish
  tint behind: below the eye and ear is a large undefined patch of
  buff; chin of same hue; the rest of head, throat, neck, breast,
  and belly, bluish-grey; the whole neck richly glossed with pale
  crimson, changing to brassy-green, especially behind, where the
  feathers meet in a sharp ridge. Abruptly separated from the neck, a
  broad belt of dark red extends from each shoulder across the back,
  reflecting the richest purple. The remainder of back, rump, tail,
  and wing-secondaries and tertiaries, deep-sea-green, or black,
  according to the light, glossed with rich purple: on the secondary
  and primary coverts, the green merges into a dark bistre: primaries
  bright chestnut, with black shafts and tips. Inner surface of
  wings, thighs, lower belly, vent and under tail-coverts, chestnut.

No description can give an adequate notion of the lustrous radiance
of this most lovely bird; though it has not yet found a place in
our Ornithologies. I presume it to be the “_Columba silvatica major
nigro-cærulescens_,” of Browne’s Jamaica, p. 468, but he has given
no description; his “Mountain Witch, Mountain Partridge, or Mountain
Dove,” is doubtless the bird described in the following article. Mr.
Selby, in his beautiful volume on the Pigeons, in the Nat. Lib., named,
without characterising, the genus _Geophilus_, which, while he applied
it with confidence to _Carunculatus_ and _Nicobaricus_, he assigned
doubtingly to the larger ground doves of Cuba and Jamaica. But these
species have no generic identity; nor if they had, could this name be
adopted, as it had been previously used for a genus of _Myriapoda_.

This magnificent bird inhabits the most retired mountains, and the
deepest woody glades there; places difficult of approach and rarely
traversed. In the dense and lofty forest that clothes the brow of
Bluefields Peak, it is very numerous, usually seen singly or in pairs,
walking on the ground; the freedom of the forest there from underwood
allowing it to exercise its fleetness of foot to advantage. If alarmed,
it generally seeks to escape by running, its bulk and shortness of wing
rendering its flight burdensome and ineffective. Its coo consists of
two loud notes, the first short and sharp, the second protracted and
descending with a mournful cadence. At a distance its first note is
inaudible; and the second, reiterated at measured intervals, sounds
like the groaning of a dying man. These moans, heard in the most
recluse and solemn glens, while the bird is rarely seen, have probably
given it the name of Mountain Witch.

About a score yards from the high road, just opposite Bluefields gate,
is a house lately occupied, but now deserted; the space between it
and the road is now overgrown with young trees sprung up with the
luxuriance of tropical vegetation, and is already a wilderness. Among
the bushes, the castor-oil plant and the physic-nut are numerous; and
under these in the dry season, the Whitewings assemble in search of
seeds. One day in November, Sam had gone thither to set a springe, when
he was surprised by the sight of a Mountain Witch on the ground almost
close to him. He had, the moment before, discharged his gun, and it
shows the fearlessness of this beautiful bird, that it had not flown at
the report. Immediately on the discovery, the lad drew back to re-load,
but before he could accomplish this, the bird began to run, and was
presently lost among the bushes. On several successive days it was
seen at the same spot, invariably on the ground; generally it allowed
a very close approach, running when the lad advanced, but stopping to
gaze if he stopped. As it stood it was observed to jerk the tail in the
manner of the Pea-dove. At length Sam shot it. It was a young bird,
rather smaller in size and less iridescent than the adult. Its craw was
full of castor-oil nuts, and contained also a little snail. This is
the only instance, I ever heard of, in which this species came down
to the lowlands: it was seen chiefly in the evening, and its object so
far from its mountain home, was probably the search after water, the
weather being very dry.

The relation which the development of the power of flight or of
walking, bears to the colour of the flesh, is well shown by a
comparison of this species with the Bald-pate or Blue Pigeon. The flesh
of the tree dove is dark red; that of the Mountain Witch is whiter than
a chicken’s: the former the more juicy, the latter tender, but dry;
both are delicious in flavour.

Various seeds and nuts I have found in the gizzards of many that I have
examined, some hard and stony; others farinaceous, and comminuted. The
seed of the lance-wood is said to afford it food.

The Mountain Witch is generally spoken of as rare, in the island;
but I suspect the remoteness and difficulty of access of its recluse
solitudes, have contributed to this opinion. Robinson gives Clarendon
as one of its localities: he says it is the most beautiful pigeon in
Jamaica. I should be inclined to say “the most beautiful _bird_,” if we
except the Long-tailed Humming-bird.

I had been assured by intelligent men, very familiar with these birds,
that the Mountain Witch lays in March, in the angle of the roots of a
tree, on the ground; that the young leave the nest about a week after
they are hatched, and are led about by the mother, who scratches for
them in the manner of a fowl. Some have declared that they have been
eye-witnesses of this; persons who have never heard that this pigeon
has any systematic affinity to the _Gallinaceæ_. I made many inquiries
and found the statement very general, almost universal. A female shot
in March had an egg in the oviduct, shelled and perfectly ready for
exclusion; it was of a dull reddish-white, unspotted; and measured 1¹⁄₄
inch by ⁷⁄₈.

Of many which were procured for me in May, nearly every one was of the
male sex; and they were shot from trees; on inquiry into this anomaly,
I was told that during incubation the male invariably lodges in a
neighbouring tree; a singular deviation from its ordinary habits.

There is no appreciable difference between the sexes, except that the
male has the vent, under tail-coverts, and thighs of a deeper chestnut,
and empurpled. The red of the quills is also brighter.


                          PARTRIDGE DOVE.[93]

                         _Mountain Partridge._

                          _Geotrygon montana._

          _Columba montana_,          +Linn.+
          _Columba Martinica_,        +Temm.+ Pig. 5, 6.
        ? _Peristera cuprea_,         +Wagl.+

  [93] Length 9¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 17¹⁄₂, flexure 6, tail 3⁴⁄₁₀,
  rictus 1, tarsus 1¹⁄₄, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Irides golden yellow; feet
  flesh-colour, front of tarsi bright red; beak reddish horn-colour,
  base dark-red; naked skin of face blue, red in the centre; edge of
  eyelids scarlet.

  Male. Upper parts bright chestnut, more or less flushed with
  a purple iridescence, chiefly on neck and back. Breast pale
  purplish-brown, softened to white on throat and chin; a band of
  deep chestnut runs forward from the ear to the throat. Belly and
  under tail-coverts, buff-white.

  Female. Upper parts dark olive, glossed; a few (sometimes nearly
  all) of the feathers tipped with bay; head rather browner.
  Wing-quills blackish: tail blackish, outmost feather tipped with
  white, a broad spot of chestnut on the inner web. Throat whitish;
  breast and sides dusky; under parts reddish-white.

I am convinced that our Partridge dove is the _montana_ of Linnæus,
and not his _Martinica_; the _Martinica_ of Temminck, and not his
_montana_; the _Pigeon roux de Cayenne_ of Buffon, and not his _P. de
la Martinique_; and that it is not the _montana_ of Audubon;—provided
the descriptions and figures of these naturalists faithfully represent
their originals.

This bird, the female of which is the least beautiful of all our
Doves, is generally scattered. It affects a well-wooded country, and
is found in such woods as are more choked with bushes than such as the
Whitebelly prefers; though they often dwell together. It is essentially
a ground-pigeon, walking in couples or singly, seeking for seeds or
gravel on the earth. It is often seen beneath a pimento picking up the
fallen berries; the physic-nut also and other oily seeds afford it
sustenance. Sam once observed a pair of these Doves eating the large
seed of a mango, that had been crushed. With seeds, I have occasionally
found small slugs, a species of _Vaginulus_, common in damp places,
in its gizzard. Often when riding through the Cotta-wood, a dense
and tangled coppice near Content, I have been startled by the loud
whirring of one of these birds, and at the same instant its short,
thick-set form has shot across on rapid wing, conspicuous for a moment
from its bright rufous plumage, but instantly lost in the surrounding
bushes. When on the ground it is wary and difficult of approach; but
if it takes a tree, it seems less fearful, and will allow the aim of
the sportsman. It is in the dry season, and particularly during the
parching norths that prevail at intervals from November to March, that
the Partridge, as well as one or two other species of Dove, is numerous
in the lowland woods. In the summer it is much less frequently seen and
then only in the deep woods.

In some districts it is very abundant, though Dr. Chamberlaine
intimates that it has become scarce in the neighbourhood of Kingston.
He mentions, as localities in which it may still be found, “the
pastures beneath the Ferry-hills, and other cool and retired retreats
in the parishes of St. Catherine’s, St. John’s, St. Ann’s, &c.” To
these I can add from my own observation, that it is common about Auld
Ayr and Shrewsbury woods, and abundant at Content, the Cotta-wood, and
Vinegar Hill, in St. Elizabeth’s and Westmoreland. In the last named
locality, a lad caught twenty or more, in springes, during two or three
days, in February. It is readily kept in a cage with other Doves, and
fed with maize.

In the Short Cut of Paradise, where the sweet-wood abounds, the
Partridge is also numerous; in March and April when these berries are
ripe, their stomachs are filled with them. Here at the same season,
their cooing resounds, which is simply a very sad moan, usually uttered
on the ground; but on one occasion we heard it from the limb of a
cotton tree at Cave, on which the bird sitting, with its head drawn in,
was shot in the very act. But at a little distance, the voice is not
distinguishable from the moan of the Mountain Witch.

A notion prevails that the dark coloured bird is the male, and the
rufous one the female; but I have proved the contrary, by repeated
dissections.

One day in June, I went down with a young friend into a wooded valley
at Content, to look at a Partridge’s nest. As we crept cautiously
towards the spot, the male bird flew from it. I was surprised at its
rudeness; it was nothing but half-a-dozen decayed leaves laid one on
another, and on two or three dry twigs, but from the sitting of the
birds it had acquired a slight hollowness, about as much as that of a
skimmer. It was placed on the top, (slightly sunk among the leaves) of
a small bush, not more than three feet high, whose glossy foliage and
small white blossoms reminded me of a myrtle. There were two young,
recently hatched; callow and peculiarly helpless, their eyes closed,
their bills large and misshapen,—they bore little resemblance to birds.

On another occasion, I saw the male shot while sitting; the nest was
then placed on a slender bush, about five feet from the ground. There
were but two eggs, of a very pale buff colour; sometimes, however,
they are considerably darker.

When seen alive, or recently killed, the affinity of the Partridge-dove
to the Mountain Witch is very apparent; the stout form, the colour of
the feet, of the beak, and of the eyelids, and particularly the conical
form of the head, and a tendency to the projecting hood-like plumage of
the occiput, help to indicate its true place. It has little resemblance
to either a _Zenaida_ or a _Peristera_. The flesh is very white; like
that of its congener.

                   *       *       *       *       *

The woodsmen speak of a Blue Partridge, and a Red-necked Dove; the
former is figured by Robinson, and is no doubt a ground pigeon.
The Spanish Partridge (_Starnænas cyanocephala_) is not considered
as indigenous in Jamaica, though it is frequently imported thither
from Cuba. It may, however, yet be found in the precipitous woods of
the north side; Albin, Brisson, Buffon, and Temminck, attribute it
positively to our island.




                     +Order.+—GALLINÆ. (_Poultry._)


                 +Fam.+—PHASIANIDÆ. (_The Pheasants._)

                            GUINEA-FOWL.[94]

                      _Numida meleagris._—+Linn.+

  [94] Length 21¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 31¹⁄₂, flexure 10¹⁄₂, tail 5¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1¹⁄₂, tarsus 3¹⁄₂, middle toe 2⁴⁄₁₀. Irides hazel; feet
  black.

In a country whose genial climate so closely resembled its own,
and which abounded with dense and tangled thickets, the well-known
wandering propensities of the Guinea-fowl would no doubt cause it
to become wild very soon after its introduction. It was abundant in
Jamaica as a wild bird, 150 years ago, for Falconer mentions it among
the wild game, in his amusing “Adventures.” I shall confine myself to a
few notes of its present habits, which are in all probability those of
its original condition.

The Guinea-fowl makes itself too familiar to the settlers by its
depredations in the provision-grounds. In the cooler months of the
year, they come in numerous coveys from the woods, and scattering
themselves in the grounds at early dawn, scratch up the yams and
cocoes. A large hole is dug by their vigorous feet in very short time,
and the tubers exposed, which are then pecked away, so as to be almost
destroyed, and quite spoiled. A little later, when the planting season
begins, they do still greater damage, by digging up and devouring
the seed-yams, and cocoe-heads, thus frustrating the hopes of the
husbandman in the bud. “The corn is no sooner put into the ground than
it is scratched out; and the peas are not only dug up by them, but
shelled in the pod.” (Dr. Cham.) The sweet potato, however, _as I am
informed_, escapes their ravages, being invariably rejected by them.
To protect the growing provisions, some of the negro peasants have
recourse to scarecrows, and others endeavour to capture the birds by a
common rat-gin set in their way. It must, however, be quite concealed,
or it may as well be at home; it is therefore sunk in the ground, and
lightly covered with earth and leaves. A springe is useless, unless the
cord be blackened and discoloured so as to resemble the dry trailing
stem of some creeper, for they are birds of extreme caution and
suspicion. It is hence extremely difficult to shoot them, their fears
being readily alarmed, and their fleetness soon carrying them beyond
the reach of pursuit. But the aid of a dog, even a common cur, greatly
diminishes the difficulty. Pursuit by an animal whose speed exceeds
their own, seems to paralyze them; they instantly betake themselves
to a tree, whence they may be shot down with facility, as their whole
senses appear to be concentrated upon one object, the barking cur
beneath, regarding whom with attent eyes, and outstretched neck, they
dare not quit their position of defence. Flight cannot be protracted by
them, nor is it trusted to as a means of escape, save to the extent of
gaining the elevation of a tree: the body is too heavy, the wings too
short and hollow, and the sternal apparatus too weak, for flight to be
any other than a painful and laborious performance.

The Guinea-fowl is sometimes caught by the following stratagem; a small
quantity of corn is steeped for a night in proof rum, and is then
placed in a shallow vessel, with a little fresh rum, and the water
expressed from a bitter cassava, grated; this is deposited within an
inclosed ground, to which the depredators resort. A small quantity of
the grated cassava is then strewn over it, and it is left. The fowls
eat the medicated food eagerly, and are soon found reeling about
intoxicated, unable to escape, and content with thrusting the head into
a corner. Frequently a large part of the flock are found dead, from
this cause.

Though savoury, and in high request for the table, the Guinea-fowl
sometimes acquires an insufferably rank odour, from feeding on the
fetid _Petiveria alliacea_; and is then uneatable.

The eggs are deposited in the midst of a dense tussock of grass, to
the amount of a dozen or more. It is said that occasionally the number
is greatly higher; and that they are laid _stratum super stratum_,
with leaves between. If this is true, probably more than one hen
participates in the maternity. The wild bird’s egg measures 1⁷⁄₁₀ by
1⁴⁄₁₀ inch; and weighs 6 dr., 1 sc., 2 gr.—(Rob. MSS.)


                   +Fam.+—TETRAONIDÆ. (_The Grouse._)

                               QUAIL.[95]

                          _Ortyx Virginiana._

          _Tetrao Virginianus_,       +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 76.
          _Ortyx Virginiana_,         +Steph.+

  [95] Length 9¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 14¹⁄₄, flexure 4¹⁄₂, tail 2⁴⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1⁴⁄₁₀.

This beautiful game-bird, a native of North America, was introduced
into Jamaica about a hundred years ago, where it was very soon
naturalized, and became abundant. It is found in almost all situations,
where there is cover; and from its peculiar manners, its loud call, and
the sapidity of its flesh, is familiar to all.

It is scarcely seen but in coveys of a dozen or more, which run among
the grass, and, if alarmed, lie so close, as to be unseen till a
person is at the spot; when suddenly they rise from beneath his feet,
and fly on rapid wing, and with loud whirr, to a short distance;
then descending, run so swiftly as to defy pursuit. If, however, on
springing a covey of Quail, we remain perfectly still, and keep a
watchful eye on the spot whence they arose, we may chance to see one or
two still squatting among the grass; for often some remain after their
companions have departed.

Various kinds of pulse, and graminaceous seeds afford it food; in
winter it lives largely on the small spotted peas of the lesser
fee-fee, (_Clitoria Virginiana_.)

Robinson describes the egg:—“the colour, white; length 1¹⁄₄, breadth
¹⁵⁄₁₆ inch. Nineteen were found in one nest.”—(MSS. iii. 159.) He
afterwards says, “A nest has been known to contain no less than thirty.”

                   *       *       *       *       *

Before I dismiss the Gallinaceous birds, I may mention an interesting
fact, of which Mr. Hill informed me; that the Turkey is, as far as
European knowledge is concerned, indigenous to the greater Antilles,
having been found by the Spanish discoverers, already domesticated by
the Indians; and that the European domestic breed is descended from
West Indian, and not from North American parentage. This would perhaps
tend to confirm, what has been suspected, that the domestic Turkey is
specifically distinct from the wild Turkey of North America.




                      +Order.+—GRALLÆ. (_Waders._)


                  +Fam.+—CHARADRIADÆ. (_The Plovers._)

                        SHORT-BILLED PLOVER.[96]

                          _Ægialites melodus._

          _Charadrius hiaticula_,     +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 220.
          _Charadrius melodus_,       +Ord.+

  [96] Length 7 inches, expanse 14¹⁄₂, flexure 4⁵⁄₈, tail 2³⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe 1⁷⁄₂₀. Intestine 14 inches: two
  cæca, 1 inch long.

I have nothing to add to Wilson’s memoir of this little bird. About
the beginning of November, they arrive in Jamaica from the north;
after which they may be seen running swiftly on the mud of morasses,
and on the sea-beach, in company with Sand-pipers. They feed on small
mollusca, worms, &c.


                          KILDEER PLOVER.[97]

                        _Tilderee._—_Tell-tale._

                         _Ægialites vociferus._

          _Charadrius vociferus_,     +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 225.
          _Ægialites vociferus_,      +Boie+.

  [97] Length 9¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 18, flexure 5¹⁄₂, tail 3³⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁸⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe ¹⁹⁄₂₀.

It is in the large open pastures of the lowlands that the Tell-tale
dwells. The traveller, as he passes along, is startled by the sudden
rise of a dozen or twenty of these birds, almost from under his feet,
before unseen, but now manifesting their presence by the shrillest
cries, as they wheel swiftly round in a large circle, alighting near
the spot whence they arose. In winter great numbers flock to the
stony plains, which flying in a dense body afford a fair mark to the
sportsman, by whom their flesh is esteemed. The majority of these birds
seem to be merely winter visitants, but a few certainly do remain with
us through the summer. Robinson says, they lay their eggs among the
stones near the rivulets.

One which was shot and wounded in the wing I introduced to the doves,
in a large packing-case, the front of which was removed, and replaced
by gauze. Immediately on being put in, it began vigorously charging
at the gauze, as if it had no idea of any impediment there, running
backward a little way, and then dashing at it; and this without an
instant’s intermission, now and then leaping up, and uttering its wild
cry. For a few minutes its impetuous motions seemed to stupify all the
doves, who gazed in astonishment; but presently a young Bald-pate, who
occupied one of the front corners, a very cross and surly fellow, began
to peck and beat the little Plover, driving him about the cage without
mercy. I had been struck at the first entry of the bird with its
remarkable height, owing to the length of the tarsi, and the upright,
bold attitude in which it stood. At length to escape the persecutions
of the Bald-pate, it suddenly squatted down in one of the back corners,
bringing the tarsi flat on the ground, and the tibiæ on them, so that
I was now struck with its flatness and closeness to the ground; and
I saw how it is that we so often hear their cry very near, when we
can see no trace of them, and often suddenly lose sight of them when
watching them running. I feel assured that this squatting is the bird’s
natural resource for concealment; for on being alarmed suddenly, its
first impulse is to bend partially the heel, bringing the body nearer
the ground; if the danger appear to increase, it brings the tarsi flat,
the tibiæ still being inclined; the body seems now in contact with the
ground; but a greater terror brings it still lower, so that it really
appears as if half sunk in the earth; and now no advance of the danger
affects it, if there be no opening to run; it lies quite passive; its
resource is exhausted.

My captive lay thus unmoved for a while, though the restless Pea-doves,
in running from side to side, walked over it, trampling it under foot
at every turn. When it did get up, however, and came to the front, it
was again instantly assaulted by the Bald-pate, who struck it with his
wing, and seized its beak with his own, and pinched it. Pitying it
under these inflictions, I took it out, and allowed it to run about
the room. Its actions now became quite entertaining; it ran backward
and forward with surprising fleetness, but, not being used to the
smoothness of board, though the floor was not at all polished, and
wanting the support of the back-toe, its speed was continually causing
it to slip, the feet sliding forward, so as to bring the bird down upon
its tail. Now and then it would stop, and make repeated efforts to
jump over the skirting-board, which being black, and the wall white,
I suppose it mistook the latter for empty space. While doing this, it
ever and anon emitted its loud pipe with startling shrillness. Having
run into a corner, it allowed me to take it up in my hand without
fluttering. When it stood, it jerked its head up and down. It was
exceedingly active, when not lying close for concealment; it was not
still a moment; besides the flirting of the head and tail, a tremulous
motion pervaded the body, so that it seemed to be shivering. When about
to take a single step, this was manifested in an odd manner; the foot
touching the ground three or four times before it was put down. When
it had become more at home, it devoured earthworms greedily, and would
pick minute shells and _entomostraca_ from a saucer of water, in which
was a root of water-cress. In the cage it delighted to stand in its
water-saucer, but when loose, the saucer being placed in one corner,
it would run rapidly in and out, now and then stopping to pick at the
contents.

                   *       *       *       *       *

My own acquaintance with the Grallatorial and Natatorial visitants
of Jamaica is but slight. On the authority of Mr. Hill, I add to
the _Charadriadæ_ above mentioned, the Ring Plover (_Ægialites
semipalmatus_), the Golden Plover (_Charadrius Virginiacus_),
the Squatting Plover (_Squatarola Helvetica_), and the Turnstone
(_Strepsilas interpres_).


                    +Fam.+—ARDEADÆ. (_The Herons._)

                           COMMON GAULIN.[98]

                       _Egretta nivea._—+Mihi.+

  [98] Length 21¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 35¹⁄₂, flexure 9³⁄₄, tail 3¹⁄₂,
  rictus 3³⁄₄, tarsus 4, middle toe 2⁸⁄₁₀. Irides pale straw-yellow;
  feet, cheeks and orbits, pale pea-green; beak bluish-grey, tip
  black, gonys white. Plumage snow-white; tips of the first six
  primaries dashed with pale grey.

It was on the 1st of August, the anniversary of freedom to the slave,
that I first met with this beautiful bird. By a singular coincidence,
Sam had been just describing it to me, as a bird not yet obtained,
when, scarcely five minutes after, on going into the yard, he instantly
came running in, saying, “Here is a Gaulin, Sir!” I snatched up my
gun and ran out, and saw the snow-white bird sitting on a castor-oil
tree, just over the brook. I crept softly towards it, but there being
no concealment, it took alarm, and flew before I could approach, and I
lost it among the woods. I determined, however, to seek it, and bade
my lad follow me. We had noted the direction which it had taken, and
pursued it towards a bend of the river. Before we had gone a hundred
yards through the bush, Sam sung out; and there was the bird wheeling
round in the air close to us, and in a moment it alighted on the
topmost twig of a low tree. I fired, nervous with expectation, and the
next instant the lovely bird was at my feet, with unruffled plumage,
and but a single drop of blood oozing through the neck.

Some weeks after I saw another directing its flagging flight over the
pasture; it rose gradually as it proceeded, till, when over the river,
it began to wheel in large circles at a considerable height. After
perhaps half-a-dozen gyrations, it flew off in nearly a straight line
for a quarter of a mile or more; then circled in like manner; and again
pursued the same course until I lost it from sight.

The Gaulins, or Egrets, are usually shy and vigilant birds, but not
invariably. One day in May, as I was riding past Cave, my attention was
called to one of this species, which was fishing in the shallows off
the rivulet’s mouth, whither it had resorted for several days past.
Its tameness was remarkable; for negro women were washing within a few
yards, and it permitted me to ride towards it, and to approach almost
close, without being alarmed, merely walking slowly away; till at
last, when I was within three or four yards, it slowly rose to flight,
but alighted not half a stone’s cast distant. I was pleased to watch
it a while, observing the spotless whiteness of its plumage, and the
gracefulness of its form and motions, as it arched its beautiful neck
with the elegance of a swan.

In some situations this is not a scarce bird. Passing along by railway
from Kingston to Spanish Town, I have observed in June, the white forms
of many Gaulins studding the verdant meadows called the Ferry marshes,
taking their morning meal in the shallows, and by the borders of Fresh
River. Six or eight were within the space of a hundred yards, all
feeding, yet not associating.

On a moringa-tree near the house at Robin’s River, the young friend,
to whom I am indebted for several notes, used to see the nest of a
White Gaulin, consisting of sticks and twigs, and about as large as
a washing-basin; but being in an enclosure, he could not examine it.
He used often, in passing, to see the bird sitting in it, and looking
fearlessly at the passengers; for it is close to the high-road. He
described its beautiful appearance, as it sat in its unspotted purity,
with its long neck gracefully bent into sigmoid curves, as it gazed
hither and thither.

This bird is closely allied to the following species, from which it is
distinguished by the colour of the beak, lores, and feet, and by the
ashy tips of the quills.


                        BLACK-LEGGED GAULIN.[99]

                         _Snowy Heron._—+Wils.+

                        _Egretta candidissima._

          _Ardea candidissima_,       +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 242.
          _Egretta candidissima_,     +Bonap.+

  [99] Length 22 inches, expanse 34¹⁄₂, flexure 9¹⁄₁₀, tail 3¹⁄₁₀,
  rictus 3⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 4, middle toe 2⁶⁄₁₀. (A female.)

This is much more rare than the preceding species; but two specimens
having fallen under my observation, both of which occurred in the
middle of the winter. It is probably a migrant from the continent; the
preceding, however, is a permanent resident with us.

From the rarity of its occurrence, I can add nothing to Wilson’s
account of this species; except that in the stomach of one I found
twenty-nine small silvery fishes, a species of _Smaris_.


                           BLUE GAULIN.[100]

                    _Blue Crane, or Heron._—+Wils.+

                           _Egretta cœrulea._

          _Ardea cœrulea_,            +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 307.
          _Ardea cœrulescens_,        +Lath.+
          _Egretta cœrulea_,          +Bonap.+

  [100] Length 22 inches, expanse 37, flexure 11, tail 3⁸⁄₁₀, rictus
  3⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus 4, middle toe 2⁸⁄₁₀. One cæcum, rudimentary, 2¹⁄₂
  inches from cloaca.

The slender contour of this bird, its arching purple neck, its
filamentous crown-plumes, and the long pointed scapulars arching down
over its back, combine with its graceful motions and delicate hue, to
give this bird an aspect of peculiar elegance. Less suspicious than
most of its tribe, it will frequently allow the beholder to stand and
admire it, without alarm, as it stands in some shallow stream, or
secluded pool, intent on its occupation, while the glassy surface gives
back its beautiful form, unbroken. Its motions are deliberate and slow
while watching for prey; yet its seizure of prey is sudden, and as
quick as the lightning-flash. It feeds principally on small crabs and
prawns; which I have always found changed in appearance, by the process
of digestion; the shell reddened and the flesh coagulated, as if by
boiling. In one I have found a number of minute eel-like fishes, about
an inch and a quarter long, probably the fry of a _muræna_; in another,
insects. It is usually found excessively fat.

A specimen, shot from a tree, fell into rather deep water; and though
one foot was disabled, it struck out vigorously with the other,
and _swam_ in an upright posture, with the head drawn back (_not
struggling_,) several yards, before it was seized.

It is not common enough for me to determine whether it is migratory or
not; I have obtained specimens on the 16th of September and on the 9th
of April, and through the intervening winter.


                        RED-NECKED GAULIN.[101]

                     _Egretta ruficollis._—+Mihi.+

  [101] Length 25¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 36¹⁄₂, flexure 9³⁄₄, neck 10,
  tail 2¹⁄₂, rictus 4¹⁄₂, tarsus 4, middle toe 3¹⁄₄.

  Irides cream-white; lores deep fulvous, with an oblong dusky spot
  near the edge of upper mandible; beak, black above, clay-colour
  beneath; feet dull pea-green. Crown, cheeks, and neck pale
  brick-red, mingled with dark grey feathers. Back ashy-grey, with
  pale reddish tips; scapulars and quills blue-grey; coverts grey
  with red tips, almost wholly red towards the edge of the wing.
  Rump and tail-coverts white. Tail dark grey. Chin, throat, and
  whole under parts yellowish-white, but down the front of neck an
  irregular series of rufous feathers, forming dashes on the white;
  and a few blackish feathers on the breast.

I first met with this undescribed species in a little excursion up the
beautiful Burnt Savanna River, on the 25th of November. The immense
morass through which it flows, looking like a sea of rushes, relieved
here and there by clumps of the tall and slender palmetto, affords
shelter and sustenance to immense numbers of aquatic birds, in common
with Black River, of which this is a main branch. Of this species of
Gaulin, which is not remarkable for beauty, the only specimen, besides,
that I met with, was shot by Sam, at Bluefields Creek, on the 7th of
May. Both individuals had been feeding on a small species of _Gobius_,
called mud-fish.

Though birds which feed exclusively on animal matters are ordinarily
marked by the shortness of the intestinal canal, the tribe before us
forms a remarkable exception to this rule; while the body of this bird
was less than four inches in length, the intestine measured seventy-two
inches. The neck is more than usually long in this species.

It is doubtless a permanent resident in the Island.


                          GREEN BITTERN.[102]

                            _Crab-catcher._

                         _Herodias virescens._

          _Ardea virescens_,          +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 333.
          _Herodias virescens_,       +Bonap.+

  [102] Length 18 inches, expanse 25¹⁄₂, flexure 7¹⁄₄, tail 2⁷⁄₁₀,
  rictus 3, tarsus 2²⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁸⁄₁₀. Intestine 44¹⁄₂ inches,
  very slender.

This richly-coloured species is found wherever there is running water;
and most abundantly, where in the plains the sluggish streams expand
into broad reedy pools, or spongy marshes. Though perfectly solitary in
its habits, one may frequently see in such situations a dozen within a
quarter of a mile; and as we walk on, another and another long neck is
suddenly reared above the grass, to gaze at the intruder and estimate
the danger. Usually they are too wary to allow of a near approach; but
this varies according to the locality; for while, in lonely places, as
Paradise marshes, one may easily get within shot, in such streams as
Bluefields and Robin’s River, where persons are continually passing, an
approach within a long distance instantly puts the watchful bird upon
the wing. In the former case it alights again immediately, but in the
latter it does not stay its flight, until it gains the shelter of the
woods, or a distant part of the stream. But in the morning, as soon as
its appetite has been sated, its stomach gorged with prey, it often
rests on some dry tree in the vicinity, whence it is less willing to
fly, and may often be approached and shot with ease.

Near where the Sweet River roars and boils beneath the bridge, on the
road from Bluefields to Savanna le Mar, there runs along by the side of
the road, a narrow stream with grassy banks. As I was riding by, one
day in July, I observed one of these Bitterns on the bank. It was not
sufficiently alarmed to take flight as I passed, and I therefore drew
up under the shade of a cocoa-nut palm on the other side to watch it.
A few minutes it remained in suspicious stillness, eyeing me askant.
At length with much deliberation it walked towards the edge, where it
stood, intently watching the grass and short reeds that fringed the
side. Presently it picked something from a stalk of grass, which it
swallowed; it then waded slowly into the stream till the water reached
above the tarsus, and there stood gazing motionless, except that now
and then it suddenly altered the direction of its glance. A quick
stroke of its powerful beak brought up something of considerable size,
with which it walked ashore; it dropped its prey on the grass, and
began to pick from it. Wishing to know what it was, I drove the bird
away, but it was cunning enough to pick up its booty and carry it off,
so that I was none the wiser. It was probably a root of some aquatic
plant. The Bittern, however, soon returned, and taking its former
place, resumed the occupation of picking insects from the grass, that
grew in the stream. As it walked hither and thither, the beautiful
chestnut neck was alternately thrown forward and bridled up, with a
pretty affectation, and the short tail was depressed and agitated with
a rapid perpendicular vibration. I would have observed it longer, but a
rude group of negroes passing, it flew away over the adjacent logwood
bushes.

The flight of all the Herons is flagging and laborious: I have been
amused to see a Humming-bird chasing a Heron; the minuteness and arrowy
swiftness of the one contrasting strangely with the expanse of wing and
unwieldy motion of the other. The little aggressor appears to restrain
his powers in order to annoy his adversary, dodging around him and
pecking at him like one of the small frigates of Drake or Frobisher
peppering one of the unwieldy galleons of the ill-fated Armada. Now and
then, however, I have noticed this and other species of Heron intermit
this laborious motion, and sail swiftly and gracefully on balanced
wings, particularly when inclining their flight towards the earth.

When wounded, so as to be unable to fly, the Green Bittern seeks
to escape by running, which it does swiftly, the neck projected
horizontally, uttering a low cluck at intervals. Its ordinary call,
often uttered from the morasses and mangrove swamps, is a loud scream,
harsh and guttural.

In each specimen that I dissected, the stomach was enormous, occupying
the whole length and breadth of the body; it usually is found distended
with the larvæ of _libelluladæ_ and _dyticidæ_, and with freshwater
prawns. The latter lie in the stomach always in the same way; viz.
doubled up, the head and tail pointing forwards, the only way in which
they could be swallowed with safety.

In all the _Ardeadæ_ that I have examined, there are on the breast two
masses of filamentous down, commonly of a pale buff hue, lying just
over the furcula; beneath which, attached to the inner surface of the
skin, are two flat glandular bodies of singular appearance. A similar
tuft and structure are found just above the tail. With their object I
am quite unacquainted.


                      LITTLE YELLOW BITTERN.[103]

                         _Tortoiseshell-bird._

                           _Ardeola exilis._

          _Ardea exilis_,             +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 210.
          _Ardeola exilis_,           +Bonap.+

  [103] Length 13¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 16¹⁄₄, flexure 4¹⁄₂, tail 1¹⁄₂,
  rictus 2¹⁄₄, neck 6, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₄. Intestine 41,
  body 2¹⁄₂.

This minute Heron is not unfrequently seen dodging about the edges of
the tall reeds that clothe the morasses, or among the rank sedgy grass
that borders the streams. If alarmed it does not usually fly, but darts
into the rushy cover, where the thinness of its form enables it to
make its way with ease. Frequently it crouches, as if hoping to lie
unobserved.

The stomachs of several that I have dissected contained small fishes
and Crustacea.


                               QUOK.[104]

                   _Night-heron or Qua-bird._—+Wils.+

                        _Nycticorax Americanus._

      _Ardea nycticorax_,             +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 236.
    ? _Ardea violacea_ (_immature_),  Ibid.
      _Nycticorax Americanus_,        +Steph.+

  [104] Length 24 inches, expanse 41¹⁄₂, flexure 12, tail 4³⁄₄,
  rictus 3⁵⁄₈, tarsus 4¹⁄₄, middle toe 2³⁄₄. A male, immature;
  occipital plumes 3¹⁄₂ inches long. I have not seen the adult.

Though a common inhabitant of the deep and fetid morasses, where the
sombre mangrove crosses its tangled roots in inextricable confusion,
this fine bird is much oftener heard than seen. The superstitious
negro, whose heart is in his throat if he is compelled to stir beyond
his threshold by night, is often startled by the loud and hoarse _quok_
of this bird, suddenly emitted from the dark solitudes on either side
of the road, or from the branches of a tree above his head, where the
bird is roosting for the night. Occasionally, when out before day,
seeking some birds which are to be shot only at dawn, I have myself
heard the same loud cry repeated with deliberation, while the sudden
flapping of large wings told that the bird, not less startled, was
seeking a station less liable to interruption, farther within the
morass. In floating down such broad streams as Burnt Savanna, or Black
River, where they are margined by tall overhanging mangrove-woods,
we often see this bird, seated on some high branch, which commands a
wide prospect; but no sooner is the canoe espied, than he spreads his
immense wings, and sails heavily off with the customary vociferation.
Vigilant and suspicious, it is not an easy thing to shoot the Quok,
unless the sportsman see it first, and conceal himself before he is
discovered, or cautiously creep towards the secluded retreat where he
hears the voice. But this is almost a forlorn hope; for the senses of
the bird are very acute, and he takes alarm from the slight sounds made
by the most circumspect footsteps, and escapes in time. Any unusual
noise will provoke the utterance of the unmusical voice; a shout, or
the report of a distant gun, will be answered from several parts of the
morass; and not only by this species, but in various tones by other
Herons and Bitterns.

It is a noble bird; its commanding height, erect attitude, stout
built frame, fiery eye, powerful beak, hanging crest, and handsome
plumage, give it an imposing aspect. Crabs and other Crustacea
form its principal diet; evidently swallowed entire, though often
of considerable size. The flesh is dark; the fat, which is usually
abundant, is of a deep yellow tinge. Notwithstanding the powerful voice
of this bird, the trachea is weak, and destitute of convolution or
enlargement, save at the divarication of the bronchi.

A specimen was shot in April, in the spotted plumage, which is supposed
to indicate youth. It fell into the water, wounded, where it began
to swim, the head erect, and the body no more immersed than that of
a duck; it struck out with both feet, and made rapid way towards the
roots of a mangrove near, on reaching which it jumped out of water, and
ran up, but was then secured. In this state it is sometimes called the
Guinea-hen Quok, from the white spots on the grey ground; and I am not
sure that it is not distinct. One that was shot in May in this plumage,
a female, had eggs in the ovary as large as pepper-corns.

                   *       *       *       *       *

Mr. Hill mentions to me as indigenous _Ardeadæ_, besides such as have
come into my hands,—the Great Heron (_Ardea Herodias_), the Great White
Heron (_Egretta leuce?_), the American Bittern (_Botaurus minor_), and
the Roseate Spoon-bill (_Platalea ajaja_).

The first of these was not an unfamiliar visitant in the vicinity of
Bluefields, being often seen by myself and others at early dawn on the
sea-shore, and at the edges of the mangrove swamps. Once or twice we
have known a particular tree on which the bird roosted, and Sam has
repeatedly watched both before break of day and after dusk, but could
never succeed in obtaining a shot at the bird, so excessive was its
vigilance.

The second I once saw at a great distance while on the Burnt Savanna
River in November, its long white neck towering above the thick reeds;
I judged it to be between four and five feet high. At length it flew to
a distant tree; the morass precluding the possibility of my gratifying
my desire to possess it.

This is, I presume, the species alluded to by Mr. Hill in the former
part of the following note.—“I must not omit to mention that in Cuba
I saw very usually, in the small farms by the sea-side, the large
White Egret or _Garzota_ in a state of mansuetude. The Flamingo was
not unfrequently its companion in this unrestrained captivity, if
we may use this contradictory expression to represent a state where
reconcilement to servitude included a full permission to the birds to
use their wings in flight. The abundant food obtained from the refuse
of the fishermen’s nets on the beach at day-break, supplied them with
an early and full meal for the day, and explained the mystery of this
willing captivity. In St. Domingo I visited a woodland farm, situated
by the side of some fine freshwater ponds, the resort of numerous
wild ducks in the season, where the submission to life among the
poultry, on the part of one of the _small Egrets_, was the result of
association only. What was most remarkable was the determination of
this bird always to occupy the centre of the roost, by the side of the
patriarchal cock. I stayed purposely till roosting time, to see him
shift his place after gaining the roost-tree, until he got his station
in the middle of the dormitory.”

                   *       *       *       *       *

In some seasons the Scarlet Ibis (_Ibis rubra_) is not an uncommon
visitant on the shores of Jamaica; but I have not met with it. The
present winter, 1846-7, Mr. Hill informs me, has brought it in somewhat
numerously. On the same authority, I mention two species of Curlews,
the one known as the Black Curlew, which is _Numenius longirostris_,
the other called the White Curlew, which may be _N. Hudsonicus_, or
perhaps _Ibis alba_.


                  +Fam.+—SCOLOPACIDÆ. (_The Snipes._)

                         LITTLE SANDPIPER.[105]

                           _Pelidna pusilla._

          _Tringa pusilla_,           +Wils.+ pl. 37.
          _Pelidna pusilla_,          +Cuv.+

  [105] Length 5³⁄₄ inches, expanse 11¹⁄₂, flexure 3⁸⁄₁₀, tail 1¹⁄₂,
  rictus ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus ⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁸⁄₁₀. Intestine 11 inches, two
  cæca ³⁄₄ inch long.

About the end of the year, this little species becomes numerous in the
open morasses, associating in flocks of about half a dozen, which run
swiftly over the boggy and wet soil, as the other Sandpipers do.

Out of the same flock I found some, both males and females, which
had the beak considerably broader and flatter than others; some also
have the feet blackish, and others clay-colour. In other respects the
specimens were undistinguishable.

I found in the stomach comminuted animal matter, and fragments of
shells.


                        SPOTTED SANDPIPER.[106]

                         _Actitis macularius._

          _Tringa macularia_,         +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 310.
          _Actitis macularius_,       +Boie+.

  [106] Length 7¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 12, flexure 4, tail 1⁹⁄₁₀, rictus
  1¹⁄₂₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe ⁹⁄₁₀. Intestine 9 inches; two cæca
  1¹⁄₂ inch from cloaca, 1 inch long, very slender.

This is a common species with us, affecting principally the margins and
shallows of rocky streams, such as Bluefield River. It arrives from the
north about the end of August, and remains certainly till after the
middle of April, and I am not sure that individuals do not stay all the
summer.

Wilson has delineated the manners of this bird in a very interesting
manner, to which I have nothing to add. One which was wounded in the
wing, I put into a cage for an hour or two; during which time it
frequently made a succession of charges at the wires, squatting down at
intervals on the belly. When it walked, it was in a singular manner;
the heel much bent, the tarsus forming an acute angle with the ground,
and the toes thrown forward.


                       BAR-TAILED SANDPIPER.[107]

                        _Totanus chloropygius._

          _Tringa solitaria_,         +Wils.+
          _Totanus chloropygius_,     +Vieill.+

  [107] Length 8 inches, expanse 15, flexure 5, tail 2²⁄₁₀, rictus
  1¹⁄₄, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀.

About the ponds of pastures, and fresh-water morasses, this Sandpiper
or Gambet is frequently seen; and that not quite so solitarily as
Wilson found it. The gizzard of one that I dissected was filled with a
blackish, unctuous, filamentous substance, among which I detected some
fragments of minute water-insects, a small larva of a _libellula_, &c.

One day, as I was seeking Herons in Paradise marshes, I aimed at a bird
twice in succession, but each time the cap detonated without igniting
the charge: the slight sound alarmed two or three Bar-tails, that were
close by, and caused them to rise a few yards into the air, where they
remained several seconds, hovering, the wings held perpendicularly,
and nearly meeting over the back, after which they settled down again.
One, whose wing had been broken, I allowed to run about my room, having
first cut off the dangling joint. It had much of the manners of the
Kildeer (see p. 331), but frequently held up the wings perpendicularly,
when running.

That the power of swimming does not depend on webbed feet, is now
pretty well known; some instances I have mentioned already. A
Bar-tail, shot at Mount Edgecumbe pond, plunged into the water, and
swam vigorously, striking out with both feet. On another occasion a
Sandpiper, I do not know of what species, being wounded, plunged into
a river, and swam some distance; but Sam pursuing and approaching it,
it dived, and swam swiftly under water, like a Grebe, coming up at the
distance of several yards, then instantly diving again, till at last it
effected its escape among the reeds and bushes at the margin.


                       YELLOW-SHANKS GAMBET.[108]

                          _Totanus flavipes._

          _Scolopax flavipes_,        +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 288.
          _Totanus flavipes_,         +Bechst.+

  [108] Length 10¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 19¹⁄₂, flexure 6¹⁄₂, tail 2¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus 2²⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₁₀.

During the winter we met with this species on one or two occasions,
always solitary, wading in the shallows of Crab-pond, and picking. The
stomachs of those I obtained, contained a mass of pulverulent matter,
which, on being separated in water, seemed to consist largely, if not
wholly, of insects. Some soft larvæ, apparently dipterous, and parts
of rather large yellow ants, I recognised in one, and in another the
remains of _Notonectæ_.


                       BARR-FLANKED GAMBET.[109]

                        _Totanus melanoleucus?_

          _Scolopax vocifera_,        +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 308.
          _Totanus melanoleucus_,     +Vieill.+

  [109] Length 13³⁄₄ inches, expanse 24, flexure 7¹⁄₂, tail 3, rictus
  2²⁄₁₀, tarsus 2⁸⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁶⁄₁₀, hind toe ⁸⁄₁₀.

I know this species only by an individual brought to me at Spanish
Town on the 21st of March. In the succeeding month, however, Mr. Hill
informed me, that both this and the preceding species were particularly
abundant; the numbers of these birds procured by the market sportsmen
of Spanish-town and Kingston, being quite extraordinary.

The specimen I obtained does not exactly agree with the descriptions
I have read, the breast and sides being marked with zigzags of black,
which are large and conspicuous on the flanks. The gizzard, which was
muscular, contained a greenish unctuous mass, which showed traces of
scales, or else the plated covering of _crustacea_.


                              SNIPE.[110]

                          _Gallinago Wilsoni._

          _Scolopax gallinago_,       +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 243.
          _Gallinago Wilsoni_,        +Bonap.+

  [110] Length 10³⁄₄ inches, expanse 17, flexure 5¹⁄₄, tail 2¹⁄₈,
  rictus 2⁵⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁴⁄₁₀, middle toe 1⁵⁄₁₀.

From November to April this beautiful and delicious bird is rather
common in the morasses of Jamaica. In the fetid swamp that borders
Bluefields Creek, I have principally met with it, running on the boggy
places, some of which are dangerous and difficult of approach. When the
tide comes in, however, the wading birds are driven to the edges of the
morass, and may then be seen from the high road at Belmont, walking and
feeding deliberately in the shallow water, among the slender stems of
the black mangroves, not half a stone’s cast from the passers by. When
the water stands just above the tarsal joint, the beak can just reach
the bottom: and thus it walks deliberately about, momentarily feeling
the mud with the sensitive beak-tip, striking with short perpendicular
strokes. Now and then we perceive the motion of swallowing. So absorbed
is the bird in its occupation, that I have shouted aloud, without its
taking any notice; nor when its eye at last caught the motion of my
hand, did it more than run, somewhat leisurely, away.

The present season (1846–7,) seems to be more than usually favourable
to the influx of the migrant _Grallæ_ from the north. Mr. Hill
mentions, in a recent letter, that a friend, R. Wilkie, Esq., bagged
twenty-two brace of Snipe in one day’s shooting, in October.

                   *       *       *       *       *

Other _Scolopacidæ_ that have been observed in Jamaica are the Knit
(_Tringa Canutus_), the Sanderling (_Calidris Arenaria_), the Willet
(_Catoptrophorus semipalmatus_), and the Little Woodcock (_Rusticola
minor_). These I have not seen, but the first three, Mr. Hill writes
me, are plentiful there, this winter. A second species of Woodcock,
also, has been reported to have been met with in the island.


                     +Fam.+—RALLIDÆ. (_The Rails._)

                           CLUCKING-HEN.[111]

                         _Aramus scolopaceus._

          _Ardea scolopacea_,         +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 377.
          _Rallus ardeoïdes_,         +Spix+.
          _Rallus gigas_,             +Bonap.+
          _Aramus scolopaceus_,       +Vieill.+

  [111] Length 25 inches, expanse 39¹⁄₂, flexure 13, tail 5, rictus
  3⁹⁄₁₀, bare part of tibia 2, tarsus 4³⁄₁₀, middle-toe 3³⁄₁₀.

  Irides hazel; feet dull grey, front of tarsi and toes blackish,
  polished; beak grey, blackish at tip, tinged with flesh-colour at
  base; tongue ending in a long horny point; no naked skin on head.
  General plumage brown, each feather marked through the centre with
  a pointed pencil of pure white. On the crown the hue is dusky, the
  centres being merely paler; on the neck the centres are large, and
  give the prevailing hue; it is on the fore-back and wing-coverts
  that the centres assume their beautiful form and distinctness.
  The quills, greater coverts, loins, rump, and tail, are destitute
  of white centres. On the inner wing-coverts, the breast, belly,
  and thighs, the brown is dull, and the centres large and well
  marked; the edges of the feathers loosely webbed. On the cheeks,
  the markings pale and indistinct; chin impure white. The brown of
  the back, wings, and tail is of an exceedingly rich deep hue, very
  silky, and displaying an iridescent glow of purple, like that of
  shaded silk. Wings short, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth quills,
  equal. First quill short, sickle-shaped; the outer web attenuated,
  and the inner dilated, towards the point. Tail broad, rounded, of
  twelve feathers. Under tail-coverts, large, nearly reaching the
  tip. Claws obtuse. Beak slender, upper mandible curved, blunt at
  tip; lower mandible straight; both rounded at edges; the _rami_
  of the lower soldered together at about half the length, where
  the cavity is nearly obliterated. The mandibles do not close
  accurately. Nostrils perforate.

This curious bird, which, from its anomalous formation, has been
a subject of considerable interest to ornithologists, seems to be
much better known by its form and plumage, than by its habits. I am
glad to be able to give some particulars of its history from my own
observation, as well as from that of my friend, Mr. Hill.

The Clucking-hen derives its provincial name from its ordinary
voice, when ranging its mountain solitudes. One day in August, I was
collecting mosses on the Bluefields Peak, where it is densely covered
with tall but slender wood, when Sam called my attention to this bird,
which we heard walking at a little distance, around us, crackling the
dried sticks and stones, and clucking deliberately with a voice exactly
resembling that of a sauntering fowl. I sent the lad round to drive
it gently towards me, while I remained still; and presently I saw it
walking swiftly to and fro, but a few yards distant. While Sam was
pursuing it it rose to wing, and alighted again immediately; but soon
ran into the recesses of the woods beyond reach.

The negroes often assured me that a precipitous gully, that cleaves the
mountain behind Bluefields, thickly clothed with large timber, abounded
with these birds, but it was not until February that I obtained a
specimen. At that time the parching drought having wasted the mountain
pools, I was told that Clucking-hens might be met with in numbers, at
the edge of the woods around the spot where the spring of Bluefields
River gushes out of the mountain’s foot. It was said that many were in
the habit of selecting high trees in that vicinity as roosting-places.
My servants having on several evenings heard the loud cries of these
birds proceeding from the spot, I sent them thither one evening to
watch. As night drew on, the birds were seen and heard around, and
though they could not obtain a shot, they succeeded in getting a more
definite knowledge of the individual trees selected.

An evening or two afterwards, I myself went to the spot with them:
before sunset the loud cry of one was heard, apparently descending
the mountain, but it was not until the grey twilight was fading into
darkness that we began to hear them screaming and flying around.
The notes were singular; sometimes a series of shrill screams were
uttered in succession, then a harsh cry, _krau, krau, krau, kreaow_.
All were loud, sudden, and startling. More than one alighted on a
large hog-plum not far off, a tree which they seem to affect, but were
too wary to allow of my approaching within gun-shot. Sam, who was
watching a hundred yards distant, was more fortunate, for as I was
stealthily creeping towards my bird, I heard the report of his piece,
and had the satisfaction of learning that he had secured his game, the
first specimen of this interesting bird that I had an opportunity of
examining.

The ordinary spring-rains were distressingly deficient in 1846; and
hence I presume it was, that, through the month of April, several birds
of this species were in the habit of frequenting the morasses on each
side of the swiftly-flowing Paradise River. Where the bridle-path
called the Short Cut crosses the stream, there grow many bushes of
Black-Withe, about as large as an ordinary apple-tree; many of these
are clothed with a dense and matted drapery of convolvolus so thick as
to hide the bush completely. On the very summit of these bushes, the
Clucking-hens might often be seen at early day, the tangled creepers
affording a support for their broad feet, where they stood and turned
without sinking and without embarrassment. They stood boldly erect,
as if watching, their dark figures relieved against the sky, in an
attitude exactly like that of an Ibis, though they flirted the tail in
the manner of a Rail. At brief intervals they uttered a short sharp
sound, and sometimes the loud harsh scream, _krēaow_. On being alarmed,
they flew heavily and slowly, with the long legs hanging down, and the
neck stretched forward, having a very awkward appearance in the air.

About June, they had again retired to the loftier elevations: at the
middle of that month, I used to hear their loud cries at an early hour,
on the mountains of Grand Vale and Hampstead, above Content. There
was a large pond just within the woods, to which they resorted; for
the drought still prevailed. My young friend, who had often seen them
there, informed me that they scratch and pick like a fowl.

The head and beak of the Clucking-hen bears an obvious resemblance to
those of the following species, _Rallus longirostris_, except that the
nasal grooves are nearly obliterated in the _Aramus_. The feet also are
similar. The sternum is that of neither _Rallus_ nor _Ardea_, but is
closely like that of _Psophia_.

A female was brought me on the 1st of April, in the afternoon, which
had been just shot as it was standing in shallow water at Bluefields
river-head, fishing. The freshness of the subject enabled me to examine
it carefully. The stomachic sac consisted of a gizzard separated by a
narrow constriction from a long proventriculus, about twice as large
as the gizzard, and of a sub-oval, flattened form. This was divided
by the structure of the parietes into two very distinct parts, the
upper portion being much thickened, and studded with small round
glands, so as to look like shagreen. The lower and larger portion was
muscular, the inner surface having longitudinal _rugæ_. The gizzard was
comparatively smooth within, and thinner than the proventriculus. The
latter was stuffed with small water-snails (_Ampullaria_), divested
of the shells, but not, in all cases, of the opercula, which filled
even the œsophagus almost to the fauces. In the upper part of the
proventriculus, the snails were little changed; in the lower they
were macerated and more slimy, but in the gizzard there was nothing
but a hard mass of blackish, almost homogeneous matter, nearly dry by
the expression of its moisture. The intestinal canal measured fifty
inches; (in another specimen forty-two inches;) about an inch from the
cloaca, the cæca branched off, the left longer by half an inch than
the right. I could find no gall-bladder. The body, when divested of the
integuments is compressed, but not so decidedly as in either Herons or
Rails.

In the male bird the trachea at the distance of about two inches above
the furcula, takes an immense convolution, forming a complicated knot;
the form of the turnings is not always the same, nor is their extent;
I have seen one much more complicated than in the specimen dissected
by Mr. Eyton,[112] and some less so. The volutions are connected by
a mesentery. At the point where the bronchi divaricate, the trachea
dilates into a large oval box. In the female the trachea is quite
simple, having no trace of the convolution, nor of the bronchial box.
I hence infer that the loud startling cries are uttered only by the
male. As in the Rails, the abdominal viscera are very large; the cæca
in particular, when distended, are enormous.

  [112] Ann. and Mag. of N.H., Jan. 1846.

Robinson states that the Aramus feeds upon snakes, toads, and
lizards, as well as wood-snails, and gully-crabs, yet not on his own
observation, but on the authority of “people of credit, who have seen
junks of undigested snakes and lizards taken out of their craws.”
This is not confirmed, however, by my own observation, gasteropod
mollusca having been found in every specimen I have examined. Mr.
Hill’s observation does not confirm the former statement. Of one which
was sent to him in July 1842, he remarks, “Having opened the craw
for the purpose of ascertaining the food it had been eating, I found
nothing but a quantity of a dark pulverulent substance, very much
resembling decayed wood; a substance which a bird with such a bill as
the Clucking-hen has, might be supposed to pick up with the worms it
might find in the decaying wood. There was no trace of any animal body,
neither wings of beetles, nor vertebræ of lizards.” It may be added
that this specimen when discovered, “flew from where a limb of rotten
log-wood had been broken off; perhaps it was eating some of the large
wood-worms.”

Mr. Eyton’s bird was sent from Honduras: if it had been a Jamaican
specimen, I should have guessed that the zoophyte which seemed to
resemble a sea-anemone, was a large species of _Vaginulus_ common in
the mountains.

From the general, though not total, absence of the shells of the snails
which I have found, I judge that the shell is crushed with the beak,
and shaken off before the snail is swallowed. The opercula, which are
frequently found attached, have enabled me to recognise the genera
_Ampullaria_, _Cyclostoma_, and _Helicina_; the latter two, terrestrial
snails.

The piercing cries with which the Clucking-hen salutes the approach
of night, are little heard at any other time: during the day it more
commonly emits the deliberate clucking above mentioned, as it saunters
hither and thither in the mountain-woods, or among the cocoes of the
provision-grounds. We sometimes hear the harsh sounds proceeding from
the forest, even after night has established its dominion, and hence,
probably, it has been considered a nocturnal bird; I suspect, however,
that these cries are not the accompaniments of activity, but the
harbingers of repose, emitted while sitting on the roosting tree, or
while flying to and fro in preparation for alighting; the cries which
are heard at a rather later hour marking, probably, the awaking from
the first sleep, as they soon relapse into silence.

In the woods of the parish of St. David’s these birds are said to
be abundant, as also in the mountainous districts of St. Ann’s, St.
Dorothy’s, and the Coona-coonas. Swift of foot, if not of wing, the
Aramus does not confine itself, however, to one or two localities,
but ranges, with rapid sidelong strides, the lonely woods from the
mountain-tops to the mangrove morasses of the shore. Solitary and shy,
it is a difficult bird to approach, but when obtained is esteemed by
some as “the best wildfowl of the country.” “The flesh of this bird,”
says Dr. Chamberlaine, “acquires, about the termination of the year,
that plumpness, which gives it a claim to be placed in the catalogue of
edible birds. It is then esteemed fit for the table, and may be dressed
in two ways; viz., in fricassée, or roasted like the Guinea-birds, and
smothered, after being cut up, in a rich salade.” Mr. Hill observes of
the specimen which came into his possession; “I directed the whole of
the muscles on either side of the _sternum_ to be cut out and cooked.
I found its flavour indescribably fine, a compound of hare, partridge,
and pigeon. The flesh was of peculiarly close and compact texture, and
as peculiarly tender.” I would add to these, my own testimony to its
excellence.

Of its domestic economy, I know nothing, except that Robinson asserts,
that “it lays nine eggs in December.” In February, I found eggs in
the ovary of a female, as large as small peas: another, in June, had
about half-a-dozen a little larger than peas, about a dozen as large as
pigeon-shot, and many small.

Mr. Hill, in a letter written since my return to England, informs me,
that “for the last month of the late drought, [summer of 1846] numbers
of Clucking Aramuses made their appearance about the river-swamps and
marshes in the Caymanas district of this parish. They were a bird
almost unknown in these plains. As slugs and snails were very plentiful
in these, the only moist places at that time, we perceive what the
attraction to this locality was, that brought them so numerously
together, beside the desire for water.”

The Clucking-hen was among the birds sent from Cuba by Mr. Mac Leay.


                           MANGROVE-HEN.[113]

                     _Rallus longirostris._—+Lath.+

                             Pl. enl. 849.

  [113] Length 15¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 20¹⁄₂, flexure 5¹⁄₄, tail 2⁴⁄₁₀,
  rictus 2⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus 2⁴⁄₁₀, middle toe 2³⁄₁₀. Irides hazel.

The reader shall be introduced to the bird before us, by the delightful
pen of my friend, Mr. Hill.

“14th of March, 1842. I have visited Passage Fort at a season when
Wild-ducks are stretching from one side of the Bay to the other in
strings, and Plovers and Sandpipers are feeding in little flocks on
the beach. The nights and the mornings are quiet, but the day is one
uninterrupted bluster of the sea-breeze. The country is dry. Many of
the large trees are leafless, and there is no verdure in the grass.
Such a picture would seem to afford no great diversity for amusement:
the sea, however, is always an interesting object. Whether calm or
stirring it has a variety of features, all different at different hours
of the day. The repose of morning; the slumbering ocean; the sleepy
mountains kerchiefed in clouds; the awakened daylight peeping through
the curtains of night; the birds just risen and moving; the little
flocks wending about as if the day had its business to attend to; the
Herons and Egrets shaking their wings by the mirrory waters, and making
their toilet there. All this is a pleasant mixture of repose and
activity; of the stir from sleeping to waking; in which nature is never
seen to such advantage, as in the magnitude of a view that mingles the
ocean with the earth.

“The day is gathering brighter and brighter; but the mountains rise
between me and the sun, and are one dull blue mass, neither deeply nor
faintly blue, but clear, and yet obscure. On the beach the fishermen
are silently hauling their seine, sweeping, with its line of dotted
corks, such a circuit on the waters, that it seems to take in half
the bay. At a distance off, the flats loaded with grass are getting
under weigh. Busy men and women are on the beach launching canoes and
preparing for the market. The sails are hoisted, and the masses, that
lay like logs upon the water, just stir, and glide out into the glaring
bay. Amid all this hushed movement, there is one pervading sound,
the murmurs of the distant breakers. This voice is seldom silent;
in the stillest lull there will be heard this roll of the restless
surge.——There is a sweet melancholy voice that comes from the bordering
mangroves along the river: it is the morning call of the Pea-dove.
It is responded to by a faint low cooing from the hill-side woods.
It is repeated again and again; and again it is replied to far away.
And now there are other sounds. The Crotophagas are trooping to the
river-shallows, and calling to each other to settle among the sedges,
where the receding tide has left them living food. There is a sound
overhead like the hurtling of arrows. It is a flock of Wild-ducks
flitting from the Salt Island ponds to the Lagoons on the other side
the bay: and again there is another sound of gathered tribes moving
through the air. It resembles bubbling waters. It is a flight of
Tinklings shifting from their rookery to their feeding grounds in the
morasses. Streams of smoke are curling up from various points of the
mountains, like the morning sacrifices of hill-worshippers of old.
A shower has scudded along the loftiest of the ridges and shown the
deep indentings of the elevated country, by the different depths of
the misty haze.—It has passed away, and the heights are now lighted
by the full blaze of the uprisen sun. The clouds cast deep shadows on
the mountain declivities, and the highest points of the chain pierce
through the masses, rolling one upon the other, thick and accumulated.

“The sea-breeze is in. It comes as no other breeze comes, and feels as
no other breeze feels. At first two or three whiffles make darkened
tracks on the glassy waters. Then half the sea afar off is covered with
ripples. The ripples come creeping on, and the wind has reached the
shore. Two minutes pass, and a line of small breakers are chasing each
other on the beach. From this time the constant wind never lulls, but
sweeps with ‘a steady unrelenting force from the bright east.’

“Noon. In a small stretch of marsh land, through which the river has
cut two or three channels, and left several smaller meandering dykes
very clear and open, with pools and little lakes shut in from the
sea by sand-banks, there is a good deal of rank grass (_Digitaria
stolonifera_) growing, on which the village goats congregate to feed
at mid-day, that being the time when the ground is least swampy. Among
the sedge and bulrushes that cover the flooded parts, at the same
noon-tide hours, the _crek, crek, crek_, of the Water-rail is heard,
with that kind of impatient reiterated sound, with which Guinea-fowl
call to each other. This call is a summons for the birds to quit the
sedges, and seek the muddy shoals and half-dry ooze, to feed. Two or
three birds nearly, if not quite, as large as half grown pullets, of a
dingy ash-colour, come over a low intervening wall where I am, and feed
in the open yard. The country people call this bird the Mangrove-hen,
from its appearance, its habits, and its haunts. It greatly resembles
the dappled grey variety of the common fowl; and in the breeding season
it rambles about with its callow brood, like a hen and chickens. After
one of these visits, I went and traced the footmarks in the mud, and
found that the Mangrove-hens had been searching for small crabs.
Worms, shell-fish, insects, and crustacea are its animal food, and the
seeds and shoots of aquatic plants, its vegetable. As the rank-growing
herbage is necessary for its concealment, and creative wisdom has
adapted it, like the rest of its tribe, by an extraordinary expansion
of the foot, for walking on weedy waters, and so compressed its body
that it threads with alacrity reeds and rushes; the mangrove thickets,
which it commonly haunts, are those that grow in tide-waters, and
at the mouths of rivers, and in neighbourhoods luxuriant in aquatic
herbage. These are the prevailing thickets at Passage Fort: I therefore
find every body there familiar with the Mangrove-hen. As these birds
have much of the character of the _gallinaceæ_, and are able to run
and feed themselves as soon as they are hatched, they are, when half
grown, as helpless on the wing as half-fledged poultry. At the pullet
age, when feeding out on the mud and shoals, they are run down with
great facility. At this time they are delicious eating. Persons, on
whose taste I can depend, tell me, that, though a Plover be undoubtedly
a fine bird for the table, and the Sanderling a great delicacy, the
Mangrove-hen exceeds both; as it combines all their peculiarity
of flavour with the fleshiness of the Quail. This is no small
commendation.”

To this interesting note, I have little to add. At Crabpond, where
rounded clumps of mangroves are scattered like islets in a lake, we
have observed it frequently running quickly and timidly from one cover
to another, exposing itself in the open pond as little as possible. As
it walks under the arched roots, it holds its short tail nearly erect.

In a specimen dissected in December, I found fragments of crabs; and
a large one, nearly whole, was in the craw: the stomach is a muscular
gizzard. This individual was excessively fat.

One brought to me alive in May, taken in a springe, bit fiercely and
pertinaciously at anything presented to it, shaking it like a dog. It
uttered in rapid succession the most deafening screams.

The long beak, and the spurs upon the winglet, distinguish this species
from our other Rails.


                             RED RAIL.[114]

                           _Water Partridge._

                       _Rallus concolor._—+Mihi.+

  [114] Length 10 inches, expanse 15¹⁄₂, flexure 4⁸⁄₁₀, tail 2,
  rictus 1¹⁄₂₀, tarsus 1⁹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₂. Irides vermillion;
  beak yellowish-green, blackish above; feet dull purplish-crimson,
  or pink. Plumage reddish-brown, dark on back and wings; brighter
  and redder on sides; paler and more ashy on belly. Wing-quills
  blackish.

The gallinaceous form common to the Rails, and the red hue of this
species have given to it the provincial name of Water Partridge. It
affects freshwater morasses, and secluded streams, rather than saline
swamps, and is found even on the mountain acclivities. I have shot
it skulking among the aquatic weeds at Basin Spring. As it roams,
it utters at intervals of a few seconds, a _cluck_, like a hen. The
remarkable thinness of body, common to all this tribe, beautifully
adapts them for making their way through close herbage.

It is sometimes seen perched on a low tree by the road-side, at which
time it seems to have lost its usual shyness, and sits looking at the
sportsman until he nearly comes up to it. Its flight is singularly
ineffective; slow, heavy, and laboured; the head is projected, and the
body hangs down, as I have seen the body of some unwieldy _Bombyx_,
distended with eggs: the feet also are pendent.

I have never found in the gizzard of the Red-Rail, (which though small,
is muscular) anything but a homogeneous cream or mud of a dark brown
hue; or a green mucus.

The flesh is pale and flabby; the fat of a rich salmon-red.

A specimen sent to Mr. Hill by Dr. Hay from the neighbourhood of the
Black River, in St. Elizabeth’s, illustrated, in the manner of its
capture, the habits of the genus. The Doctor observed, while standing
on the steps of the house at Elim Estate, this Rail sauntering through
the grass. He pursued it, and ran it among some oleanders that grew in
clumps about, and succeeded in getting it. When brought into the house,
the bird shot rapidly across the floor, and getting into a darkened
corner of the room, remained quiet there, believing itself concealed.
On being driven out from that hiding-place, it again scudded away
over the floor to another dark corner, in which it remained quiet as
before. These recesses seemed to represent the dense coverts in which
it ordinarily conceals itself in apprehended danger; its reliance on
which, doubtless, made it so easy a prey to its captor’s hand, when it
had taken refuge among the stems of the oleanders.


                          STRIATED CRAKE.[115]

                       (_Carolina Rail._—+Wils.+)

                        _Ortygometra Carolina._

          _Rallus Carolinus_,         +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 233.
          _Ortygometra Carolina_,     +Leach+.

  [115] Length 9 inches, expanse 13³⁄₄, flexure 3⁹⁄₁₀, tail 1⁸⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1³⁄₄.

The only specimen of this bird that I possess was shot among the reeds
in Salt Spring morass, near Black River, the habitation of incredible
numbers of these and similar birds. It was near the end of November.
Though it slightly differs from Wilson’s description, in the buff
hue of the vent being scarcely noticeable, I conclude that it is of
his species; the rather, since Mr. Hill has procured a specimen from
Passage Fort, in which the buff hue was conspicuous. His specimen was
obtained in March. It is probably a winter visitant from the United
States, where Wilson describes it as an abundant species.

In the stomach of that which I dissected, I found only mud and coarse
siliceous sand.

Le petit Râle de Cayenne of Buffon, (Pl. enl. 817) is probably a female
of this species.


                           MINUTE CRAKE.[116]

                         _Ortygometra minuta._

          _Rallus minutus, var._ β,   +Lath.+
          _Ortygometra minuta_,       +Leach+.

  [116] Length 6 inches, expanse 8⁶⁄₁₀, flexure 2⁷⁄₁₀, tail 1²⁄₁₀,
  rictus ⁷⁄₁₀, bare portion of tibia ³⁄₁₀, tarsus 1, middle toe
  1⁷⁄₂₀. Irides brick-red; beak dark olive, edges at base paler
  green; legs and feet clay-colour. Forehead, crown, and occiput
  black, softening at the sides and nape; a black band from rictus
  passes through the eye, above which is a band of white, interrupted
  by black immediately over the eye. Sides of head and neck,
  yellowish-ash, blending with the black. Back, shoulders, scapulars,
  and loins yellowish-umber, each feather deepening in the centre to
  dark brown, with a conspicuous stripe of pure white running through
  the middle of the terminal half. Wing-coverts yellowish-brown; the
  greater coverts and the tertiaries have dark centres, and terminal
  white spots. Primaries and secondaries greyish black. Tail coverts
  black, with broad spots and tips of white; tail as the tertiaries.
  Chin, throat, and whole under parts white, slightly tinged on the
  breast with buff. Sides, flanks, under-tail-coverts, and outer part
  of thighs, marked with transverse bands of black and white.

In travelling from Bluefields to Savannah le Mar, we save about two
miles by taking what is called the Short Cut, a bridle-path through
the deep matted woods. The trees are largely sweet-wood, tangled, near
the edges of the broad morass, which occupies so much of this plain,
by spreading bushes of black-withe and cockspur. Two streams are to be
forded, the one a sluggish water that crosses the path immediately on
our entering the woods, the other is the deep and rapid Sweet River.
After pursuing for more than a mile the track through the bush,
which here and there opens on each side into secluded grassy glades,
adorned with many flowers, and haunted by gay butterflies, the gradual
predominance of marsh plants, _sagittaria_, ginger-fern, bulrush, and
black-withe, to the exclusion at length, of every thing else, warns us
of our approach to the river, and at length we come suddenly upon it
in all its beauty. Emerging darkly into view from beneath overhanging
trees on the right, upon which is spread a thick drapery of convolvuli,
whose lovely festoons, gemmed with purple and green, depend to the very
surface of the water, the stream gurgles along a pebbly bed, or here
and there glides with treacherous smoothness over quicksands hidden by
the waving tresses of the dark green _equisetum_; and is presently lost
again in the meandering of its tortuous course through the bushes.

Many sorts of water-fowl haunt this darkling stream: scarlet-fronted
Gallinules, that were feeding at the edge, alarmed at our approach,
flutter along the surface with much splashing of the water and
laborious flapping of their wings, to seek concealment; while the
less timid, but more beautiful Sultana bridles its purple neck, and
peeps at us from the shadow of the overarching withes, or walks calmly
away over the shallows. The harsh scream of the Little Bittern comes
fitfully from the reedy morass, and the cry of the Clucking-hen from
its watch-post above; the little Squat-ducks are diving in the eddies
of the stream, the Blue Kingfisher darts across with his rattling
call, while the snowy form of the White Gaulin is seen in the distance,
relieved against the dark bushes, as it drags its heavy flight across
the swamp. All the while gushes of rich melody are pouring from the
throats of a dozen Mocking-birds around, soothing us as we recline on
the soft beds of thyme that profusely cover the bank and fill the air
with delicious fragrance.

It was in this situation that Sam found the little Crake before us, on
the 30th of March. It was at first standing at the edge of the stream,
whence it ran up the large marsh-fern, vulgarly known as Wild-ginger,
and peeped from among the fronds, until the lad shot it. It was a
male. I found in its stomach, which was not very muscular, merely
a little yellowish mucus, and some small gravel. We never met with
the species again. I suspect, however, it is a permanent inhabitant
of the morasses; but the impenetrable character of these sombre and
fœtid recesses, renders an acquaintance with their inhabitants very
difficult. The swiftness of foot, and the retiring habits of most of
these birds, as well as their nocturnal rather than diurnal activity,
add to this difficulty. The naturalist is often indebted for his
knowledge of a species to “the fortune of the hour,” more than to his
own efforts. Hence, I have no doubt, many birds of this tribe, unknown
to me, exist in Jamaica.


                      LITTLE RED-EYED CRAKE.[117]

                       _Ortygometra Jamaicensis._

          _Rallus Jamaicensis_,       +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 349.
          _Ortygometra Jamaicensis_,  +Steph.+

  [117] Length 6 inches, expanse 9³⁄₄, flexure 3, tail 1²⁄₁₀, rictus
  ⁷⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀ (nearly), middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Intestine 12¹⁄₂
  inches; two cæca, slender, one ¹⁄₂ inch, the other ¹⁄₃ inch, long.

A specimen of this little Crake was brought to me in April, alive and
unhurt. It lived in a cage two days, but though I enclosed with it a
vessel containing water and mud, with aquatic weeds in a growing state,
and scattered on it crumbs of bread and pounded corn, it scarcely ate.
Once or twice I observed it picking in the mud, but in general it would
not even walk on it. Yet it was not at all timid. Its motions were very
deliberate; slowly raising its large feet, and then setting them down,
often without making a step. The neck was usually drawn in, short;
and then it had little of the appearance of a Rail, but rather of a
passerine bird; but when it walked, the neck was more or less extended
horizontally, and now and then bridled up: the head was carried low.
The throat was often in slight vibration, when standing still. I
observed no flirting, nor erection of the tail.

On two or three occasions, I have seen the species. Near the end of
August, pursuing a White Gaulin in the morasses of Sweet River,
several of these little Rails, one at a time, flew out from the low
rushes before my feet, and fluttering along for a few yards, with a
very laboured flight, dropped in the dense rush again. Their manner
of flight, and their figure greatly resembled those of a chicken; the
legs hung inertly down. I saw another in February, by the border of
the River at the Short Cut, flying with the same feeble and laborious
motion, from one tuft of herbage to another, whence it would not emerge
till almost trodden on.

I have not heard it utter any sound; but Robinson, in describing two
that were brought to him alive in October, 1760, says, “their cry was
very low, and resembled that of a Coot, when at a great distance.” He
notices also their peculiar mode of flight, as well as their habit of
squatting. “Several,” he observes, “were killed accidentally, by the
negroes at work; as they are so foolish as to hide their heads, and,
cocking up their rumps, think they are safe, when they are easily
taken.” (MSS. iii. 112.) He says elsewhere, “The negroes in Clarendon
call it _Cacky-quaw_, by reason of its cry, which consists of three
articulations; the negroes in Westmoreland call it _Johnny Ho_, and
_Kitty Go_, for the same reason.” (iii. 134.)

The gizzard of the one that I examined, contained a few hard seeds. The
body is much compressed.

The speckled plumage, rufous neck, and scarlet eyes, constitute this a
species of much beauty.


                             SULTANA.[118]

                    (_Martinico Gallinule._—+Wils.+)

                         _Porphyrio Martinica._

          _Gallinula Martinica_,      +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 305.
          _Gallinula cyanocollis_,    +Vieill.+
          _Porphyrio tavoua_,         Ibid.
          _Porphyrio Martinica_,      +G. R. Gray+.

  [118] Length 12¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 21¹⁄₂, flexure 6¹⁄₂, tail 2¹⁄₂,
  rictus 1³⁄₁₀, breadth of shield ⁹⁄₂₀, height from base of lower
  mandible to point of shield, 1 inch, tarsus 3, middle toe 3. Hind
  claw largest.

This magnificent bird is not uncommon in some of the lowland ponds and
marshy rivers of Jamaica. The road from Savannah le Mar to Negril,
passes through the immense swamp of the Cabarita River, the tall and
dense rushes of which form a wall on each side of the way, which in
the wet season is overflowed. Riding there one day in January, I saw
a Sultana walking in the middle of the road; a horseman had passed an
instant before, who certainly had not disturbed it; and on my approach
it took no more notice than a common fowl, sauntering about, and
picking here and there; allowing me to come within three or four feet
of it. I stopped and gazed at it, and at length made a noise and a
sudden motion with my hands; but it merely half-opened the wings, and
gave a little start, exactly as a chicken would do, but neither flew
nor ran. I never saw a bird, _feræ naturæ_, so tame.

I afterwards found that this vast morass abounded with them, and that
their presence in the high road was a thing of daily occurrence;
and though I never saw them _quite_ so fearless as the one I have
mentioned, still they were very bold, walking out from the rushes and
strolling across the road in the sight of passengers.

The aspect of the living bird is not that of a Gallinule; it stands
high on the legs, which are placed more forward: its air is much like
that of a fowl, but its contour is much slenderer. As it walks, the
neck is bridled up, and thrown forward alternately, and the short black
and white tail, which is semi-erect, is, at every step, flirted up with
a jerk into a perpendicular position.

I was struck with the remarkable elegance of one, that I saw by the
roadside, about mid-way between Savanna le Mar and Bluefields. It was
at one of those pieces of dark water called Blue-holes, reputed to
be unfathomable. The surface was covered with the leaves and tangled
stems of various water-plants, and on these the Sultana was walking,
supported by its breadth of foot; so that the leaves on which it trod
sank only an inch or two, notwithstanding that the bird, according to
its usual manner, moved with great deliberation, frequently standing
still, and looking leisurely on either side. As it walked over to
where the water was less encumbered, it became more immersed, until
it seemed to be swimming, yet even then, from the motion of its legs,
it was evidently walking, either on the bottom, or on the yielding
plants. At the margin of the pool, it stood some time, in a dark nook
overhung by bushes, where its green and purple hues were finely thrown
out by the dark background. I could not help thinking what a beautiful
addition it would make to an ornamental water in an English park;
and the more so, because its confiding tameness allows of approach
sufficiently near to admire its brilliancy. Nor are its motions void
of elegance: the constant jerking of its pied tail is perhaps rather
singular than admirable, but the bridling of its curved and lengthened
neck, and the lifting of its feet are certainly graceful.

That the Sultana could be easily domesticated is probable: Mr. Hill
once kept one for three months, which fed eagerly on Guinea-corn
(_Holcus sorghum_).

The immense length of the toes in this bird is a wise and beautiful
provision for its support on the aquatic herbage, which usually covers
the surface of standing waters in warm countries. Xenophon, in the
Retreat of the Ten Thousand, if I mistake not, has mentioned a country,
where they were in the habit of affixing hurdles to the horses’ hoofs,
to enable them to cross rivers without sinking. This device, however,
could be available only on a weedy surface.

Robinson, who has a drawing of this species, says, “This is called the
true Plantain Coot, by reason of his great affection for that fruit.”
In describing what he calls the Carpenter Coot, which seems merely
the present bird in immature plumage, he says, “It has its name from
the noise it makes; it being customary for these birds to assemble,
and knock against pieces of felled timber with their beaks, either in
search of insects, or _to break the shells of the water-snails_, which
are common in the ponds and rivers of these parts. The noise they make
when thus busied has been not badly likened to that of carpenters at
work. And I am deceived if the Clucking-hen makes not a like noise, and
for a similar purpose. I have been since credibly informed they do. The
Carpenter Coot lays in March, and has young in April.” (MSS.)

On taking off the skin, one is struck to observe the bases of all the
feathers projecting from the interior surface, to an extent seen in no
other birds than those of this genus.


                    SCARLET-FRONTED GALLINULE.[119]

                          _Gallinula galeata._

          _Gallinula chloropus_,      +Bon.+—Aud. pl. 244.
          _Gallinula galeata_,        +Licht.+

  [119] Length 13¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 20¹⁄₂, flexure 6¹⁄₂, tail 2³⁄₄,
  rictus 1²⁄₁₀, breadth of shield ¹⁄₂, height from base of lower
  mandible to top of shield 1, tarsus 2¹⁄₂, middle toe 3. Hind claw
  smallest.

By a confusion of terms this species is called in Jamaica the Coot,
while the following is known by the name of Water-hen.

This bird is scarcely to be distinguished from the European Moor-hen,
in appearance or in manners. It delights in any water where there is
cover; sometimes a swiftly running stream, as Sweet River, where the
bushes dip their branches into the water, or the margins are fringed
with high weeds; but more usually large ponds, in which tall and
thick bulrushes densely grow, or masses of the great ginger-fern. On
approaching such a piece of water early in the morning, or at any hour
of the day, if the place be unfrequented, we may see the Gallinules
playing on the surface, some by their black plumage and scarlet
shields, known to be females, the browner males less dressy, as becomes
their sex, and some smaller and greyer, which are young. As they swim
to and fro, they utter a loud _cluck_ at short intervals; but on alarm
each one sounds the note in a higher key, and the whole company dashes
into the cover. Here they continue to call to one another; but if much
pressed, they lie close, or conceal themselves in some way, so as to
elude search even in a very small area; probably by keeping under
water, holding on the roots of the rushes. But if the observer remain
quite silent and concealed, in about half an hour the _cluck_ is again
raised, and they begin cautiously to re-emerge, and play at the margin
of the reeds. I think the sense of sight is less acute with them than
that of hearing.

One which I slightly wounded, on my carrying it by the legs, repeatedly
turned up its head to bite; its force, however, was insufficient
to break the skin, though it could pinch a little. Another in
similar circumstances, I also found vicious in its attempts, though
ineffective. On arriving at home, I wished to observe its manners in
the water more closely, and for this purpose I fastened a cord to its
foot, having bandaged it to prevent its being hurt or cut, and then
let it swim in the pools of Bluefields River. Its first impulse was to
dive, and then to swim along about a foot beneath the surface, which it
did for a considerable distance, aiding its progress by striking out,
not only the feet, but also the wings, which were expanded. It thus
reminded me of a turtle. When immerged, the whole plumage was coated
with a pellicle of air, which had a singular and beautiful effect. When
it swam at the surface, little of the body but the back was exposed,
and sometimes only the neck and head. It made constant efforts to
reach the weeds and grass at the margins, and if allowed to do so,
crept in among them, and remained motionless. Sometimes, when thus
retired, it put its whole head beneath the water, and remained still,
so long that I feared it was drowned; but on being touched, it raised
its head uninjured. It seemed unwilling to walk; perhaps because its
legs were stiff, from having been held in the hand; on a boarded floor,
it could only shuffle along on its belly: and on the turf, it seemed
capable of maintaining a walking posture only as long as its motion
was rapid; the moment its speed abated, its breast came to the ground,
owing to the backward position of its legs. Its fœcal discharges, when
first secured, were a thin black mud, but afterwards were merely a
clear water, slightly tinged with green.

The belly in these birds is always protuberant; the intestines being
both very long and very large; the cæca are also enormous. The stomach,
a very large and muscular gizzard, is usually filled, as well as the
craw and intestine, with a greenish earth, which under a lens is seen
to contain much organized matter, as minute seeds, decaying leaves,
&c. From the circumstance of an excessive quantity of matter being
taken into the stomach, containing a comparatively small proportion of
nutritive substance, we see the need of the digestive organs being both
capacious and lengthened.

The young of the season have the legs and feet of their full size and
development, while the feathers of the wings are only beginning to
protrude; showing how subordinate the organs of flight are to those of
swimming.

Early in December we found an egg in Mount Edgecumbe pond, undoubtedly
of this species, for no other large bird frequents it. It was larger
than a hen’s egg, but more regularly oval: and appeared to have been of
a pale blue tint, but covered with a coat of white chalky substance. It
was lying on some crushed reeds at the surface, but evidently had been
floating a long time, for it was discoloured, and the contents were
coagulated by decomposition.


                          CINEREOUS COOT.[120]

                      _Fulica Americana._—+Gmel.+

                             Aud. pl. 239.

  [120] Length 15¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 27¹⁄₄, flexure 7³⁄₄, tail 2¹⁄₁₀,
  rictus 1⁴⁄₁₀, height of shield from base of lower mandible 1,
  tarsus 2¹⁄₂, middle toe 3⁴⁄₁₀, width of middle membrane ⁹⁄₁₀.

In the immense morass behind Savanna le Mar, the dense rushes afford
shelter to innumerable aquatic birds, among which one may recognise,
even at a distance, the Sultanas by their graceful air and slender
form, the Gallinules by their scarlet shields, and the Coots by their
conspicuous ivory beaks. In the broad spaces of open water, which
here and there margin the reeds, as at Radonda, they may be seen at
all hours of the day, if undisturbed, hundreds congregated within an
acre. Wary, however, to an excess, the distant sight of a man, or the
snapping of the twigs beneath his tread, alarms the whole, and away
they flutter into the covert, splashing the surface as they go. Yet
the noise made by the cattle walking on the shore, or trampling and
munching the reeds, as they wade breast-high, has no such effect. The
best way to shoot them is to lie very quiet, if the musquitoes will
allow you, behind a bush, and take them as they come out, sometimes two
or three at a shot; or else to wade in among the reeds, and bring them
down as they rise; though sometimes you cannot flush them. A good water
dog is indispensable to success.

As far as my observation goes, the white shield is the mark of mature
age: in the young it is dark brown; I have not seen any with the shield
wholly white, the upper part still being brown. After having been
carried head downward for some time, I found the beak of one, instead
of white, livid purple, as if filled with blood. The stomachs usually
contain small seeds, and decaying vegetable matter mixed with mud and
sand.


                +Fam.+—RECURVIROSTRADÆ. (_The Avocets._)

                          ROSEATE STILT.[121]

                       _Himantopus nigricollis._

          _Recurvirostra himantopus_, +Wils.+—Aud. pl. 328.
          _Himantopus nigricollis_,   +Vieill.+

  [121] Length 14 inches, expanse 26³⁄₄, flexure 8¹⁄₂, tail 2⁹⁄₁₀,
  rictus 2⁷⁄₁₀, naked tibia 3, tarsus 4¹⁄₂, middle toe 1⁷⁄₁₀.
  Intestine 12 inches, two cæca attached by a mesentery, 1 inch long,
  1¹⁄₂ inch from cloaca.

This beautiful and singular bird first fell under my observation in
December. It was wading in the water of Crab-pond, picking from the mud
at the bottom, with the beak, the water reaching not quite half-way up
the tarsus. It did not feel with the beak in the manner of the Snipe,
but struck at the prey that caught its eye, as it walked with the head
erect. The statement of Cuvier that walking is painful to this bird,
is as contrary to fact as to reason. This specimen was walking in the
shallow firmly enough; and even when shot in one leg so as to break
it, it stood for some time on the other in a firm erect attitude, the
broken limb being held up and dangling.

Three were shot at Bluefields Creek on the 1st of May, in the evening,
out of a large flock that were wading on the little bar at the
mouth,—and were brought to me. One which had the wing broken was alive,
and otherwise unhurt. It ran actively enough, without the slightest
vacillation, taking long strides; but when it was on its belly, it
could not get on its legs without help, sprawling about with opened
wings: it is quite likely, however, that this was owing to one wing
being rendered useless, for in attempting to rise, I perceived, it
always tried to balance itself by opening and extending horizontally
the wings. Probably this is the compensation given to it by the Allwise
Creator, for the want of purchase which must be felt in raising the
body at the end of levers, so long and so slender as the legs. It
frequently stopped abruptly, essayed to go on, and stopped again, in
that hesitating manner common to the Plovers; and like them it often
jerked the head up and down. Its usual attitude, when standing still,
was with the neck shortened, so that the head projected from between
the shoulders, the beak pointing obliquely downwards, and the hinder
parts of the body a little elevated. Now and then it lifted one foot,
and held it dangling behind the other for a few seconds. Once or twice
I saw it pick at the floor, and probably it took a small insect. Its
cry, which was uttered once or twice, was a short _clank_, loud, harsh,
and abrupt. I cannot by any means agree with Wilson, that this bird
manifests no resemblance to the Plovers.

The stomachs of these contained a few small shells, _Turbo_ and
_Nerita_: two which Robinson dissected contained “a kind of
_Cornu-ammonis_,” probably _Planorbis_. He notices also, what I have
not seen mentioned in print, but which was conspicuous enough in my
specimen, a beautiful rosy blush on the white of the neck and breast;
but only in the male. The females had eggs in the ovary at this time,
(1st May) as large as pigeon-shot. They were all very fat, the fat
being of a deep yellow hue.

Mr. Hill has favoured me with the following notes on this species: “In
addition to the extraordinary length of leg of the _Himantopus_, it has
been asserted that its leg-bones are as limber as a leathern thong,
and that they can be bent up without being broken. The accurate Wilson
has made this statement. I will not merely say that it is at variance
with my experience, but that it is absolutely absurd. The bones of this
bird are as rigid as those of any other. [To this I add also my own
testimony.] The only peculiarity I observe in them, is a flatness in
the make of the leg. While the measurement is a fourth of an inch one
way, it is scarcely an eighth of an inch the other. The tendon that
runs all along the limb is very large, and the skin that envelopes
the whole leg very fleshy. A fleshy feeling of softness is _the only
approach_ to the leathery peculiarity so confidently spoken of. The
bill has a trifling trace, almost imperceptible, of recurvature. It is
very rigid. Out of sixteen or eighteen birds carefully examined, I saw
only one with a very decidedly marked recurved character. There was
another circumstance I observed, very worthy of notice; viz. that the
length of the legs of no two birds was precisely the same. Nearly half
an inch of difference was found between the tibia and tarsus of the
longest, and of the shortest specimens. [My own observation _fully_
bears out this statement.]

“The birds brought me were shot while feeding in some shallow pools of
water in the Salines at Passage Fort. They were wading deeply. They fed
in small flocks, and winged about sportively, mingled with Sandpipers
of the _Tringa cinerea_ species. A variety of Teal were there also; and
the Shoveler Duck (_Rhynchaspis clypeata_), a peculiar insect-feeder,
being among them at the same time, makes us pretty distinctly
acquainted with the food of _Himantopus_.

“In March 1842, I noticed several Stilt Plovers fishing breast-high in
a lakelet at the mouth of the Rio Cobre, which I used to look upon from
the window of the dwelling I stayed at, at Passage Fort. I saw some
eight or ten together, when a Kingfisher was fishing at one end of the
pond, and an Osprey at the other; the Kingfisher confining himself to
the tranquil stream, and the Osprey to the broken waters, where the
current of the river contended with the shoaling sea. I saw the Stilts
there an hour together, beating breast-high over the pond. It was
evident that their food floated on the surface.”

                   *       *       *       *       *

My friend adds _Recurvirostra Americana_, as an occasional visitant of
Jamaica.




                    +Order.+—ANSERES. (_Swimmers._)


                     +Fam.+—ANATIDÆ. (_The Ducks._)

                           RED FLAMINGO.[122]

          _Phœnicopterus ruber._      +Linn.+

                             Aud. pl. 416.

  [122] “Length from beak to toes extended 62 inches, expanse 57¹⁄₂,
  tail 5¹⁄₂, beak 5¹⁄₂, neck 23, leg [tarsus] 11, middle toe 3, hind
  toe ¹⁄₂.”—(_Rob. MSS._)

The dimensions given below are from a specimen shot on the beach at
Negril, in March 1764; from the Doctor’s description, it seems to have
been scarcely mature. He adds, “I once saw a living one at Kingston.
Its food was white bread steeped in water in a washing basin. In
feeding, it immerged its upper mandible in the bottom of the basin,
resting on the elbow or angle of that mandible, and by quick repeated
motions, like those of a duck in the mud, sucked up the finest parts of
the dissolving bread.”

As I have never met with this beautiful bird in Jamaica, I am the
more obliged for the following memoir from the pen of my kind friend,
Mr. Hill. “I believe the Flamingo is never seen now upon our coasts,
but as a solitary bird, or, at most, associated with three or four
companions, when they make excursions in small groups, preparatory
to pairing and breeding. The congregated flocks of the neighbouring
islands disperse themselves; and stragglers appear upon the sand-bars
at the mouths of our rivers, occasionally, in seasons remarkable for
visits of the Hyperborean and the Canada Goose. We are best acquainted
with them as inhabitants of Cuba. The waters between the thinly peopled
shores of that island, and the clustered green kays of the coast, to
which Columbus gave the names of the Gardens of the King and Queen,
are low and shoaly. In these shallow seas, in adjacent swamps, in
river-lakes, in marshes and lagoons, and salina-ponds, they are to be
always seen moving in flocks, or flying and feeding in ranks of two
and three hundred together. Their lengthened lines and red plumage
have led the colonial Spaniards to call them _English soldiers_,
a name not inappropriate to birds that marshal themselves under a
leader, and regulate their movements by signals, when the remotest
danger threatens; and obey the bugle-blast of their sentinel, when he
summons the cohorts to the wing, and to betake themselves to other
feeding-grounds.

“I visited the district of Boyamo on the south side of Cuba in the
year 1821, and was on the coast from January to April. I was much
among the marshes and swamps about the river Conta, a stream that
receives the tidal waters, which here rise and fall six or seven feet,
at fifty miles along its course. At the mouth of this river there
are long stretches of shoal ground, where the floods of the river
and the sea form lakelets, and successively deposit their stores of
living atoms, with the rising and falling tides. Here the Flamingoes
flock and feed. They arrange themselves in _what seem to be lines_,
in consequence of their finding their food along the _edges_ of these
shallows; and though it is true that whilst their heads are down, and
they are cluttering with their bills in the water, they have one of
their number on the watch, standing erect, with his long neck turning
round to every point, ready to sound the alarm on the apprehension of
danger,—what appears to be a studied distribution of themselves back
to back, as some observers describe their arrangement, is nothing but
their regardless turning about in their places, inwardly and outwardly,
at a time when all are intent on making the most of the stores which
the prolific waters are yielding.

“The vessel I was with on the coast of Cuba was loading timber. Our
raftsmen brought us from Juanita, a town on the Rio Conta to which the
tidal influences of the sea extend, a pair of Flamingoes. I was struck
with their attitudes, with the excellent adaptation of their two-fold
character of waders and swimmers, to their habits, while standing and
feeding in the sort of shoal which we made them in a large tub upon
deck. We were here able to observe their natural gait and action. With
a firm erectness, like a man treading a wine press, they trod and
stirred the mashed biscuits, and junked fish, with which we fed them;
and plied their long lithe necks, scooping with their heads reversed,
and bent inwardly towards their trampling feet. The bill being crooked,
and flattened for accommodation to this reversed mode of feeding, when
the head is thrust down into the mud-shoals and the sand drifts, the
upper bill alone touches the ground. The structure of the tongue, of
which Professor Owen has given so minute and interesting a description,
is admirably adapted for a mode of feeding altogether peculiar. The
spines with which the upper surface is armed, are arranged in an
irregular and alternate series, and act with the notches on the edge of
the upper mandible, on which they press when the bird feeds with the
head reversed. In this reversed position, the weight and size of the
tongue becomes a very efficient instrument for entrapping the food. The
bird muddles, and clatters the bill, and dabbles about, and the tongue
receives and holds as a strainer whatever the water offers of food.

“When I made my notes of the Flamingo, thought I had remarked what
had hitherto been unobserved, respecting the ceaseless trampling of
the feet while feeding; but I find Catesby has described it.... A
correspondent of Buffon’s also, I perceive, communicated the same fact,
with other incidents equally striking....

“There is nothing of the Heron character in the Flamingo. Extraordinary
length of neck and legs is common to both, but a firm erect posture is
its ordinary standing attitude. The neck is never curved inward and
outward, convex and concave, like a Crane’s, but its movements are in
long sweeping curves, which are peculiarly pleasing, when the bird is
preening its plumage.

“The bar at the mouth of the Rio Conta stretches some two miles and
a half out to sea, with a narrow inlet about nine feet deep at high
water. Here the Flamingoes, at the season when they associate in
flocks, are congregated by hundreds. They feed divided into the lines
I have explained already, and subdivided into companies. A scout on
some advantageous point apart, where he may glance alternately at the
lengthened reach of the river, and at the sweeping sinuosities of the
coast, right and left, sounds his orders to the squadron. A sort of
long-drawn trumpet-call is the signal of danger. At the warning to
retreat, the whole troop rise on the wing crying and screaming. They
fly in a stiff cruciform posture, with the neck extended swan-like, and
the legs depending, but stretched behind so as to balance the flight.
When thus suddenly alarmed, they rise to the height of the belt of
mangroves that close in some neighbouring lagoon, and clearing the
fringing woodland, drop within the impervious wilderness, and then feed
no longer congregated, but dispersed about.”

Robinson states that “the flesh is tough: they skin them and boil
them. The broth is very good and rich. The fat of the bird being
orange-coloured, like that of the Great White Curlew, gives it a very
agreeable and rich appearance.” The Doctor also observes, “The body
appears _depressed, not compressed as the Ardeæ_.” (MSS.)


                   BLACK-BILLED WHISTLING DUCK.[123]

                         _Dendrocygna arborea._

          _Anas arborea_,             +Linn.+—Pl. enl. 804.
          _Dendrocygna arborea_,      +Sw.+

  [123] Length 21 inches, expanse 39, flexure 10, tail 3¹⁄₄, rictus
  2¹⁄₄, tarsus 3¹⁄₄, middle toe 2³⁄₄. Intestine 54 inches, two cæca,
  about 4 inches long. Irides dark brown; beak and feet iron-grey.
  Sexes exactly alike.

The Whistling Duck is well known in Jamaica, by the singular note
which has conferred on it its provincial name. This note uttered in
its crepuscular flights to and from its feeding-places, and also when
alarmed, is peculiarly shrill, and bears no small resemblance to the
sound produced by blowing forcibly over the pipe of a drawer-key.

It is much dreaded by those who plant Guinea-corn; in February, when
this grain is _in the milk_, the ducks in a compact flock dash forcibly
into the corn, striking down a large breadth, on which they can stand,
and eat the soft grain at ease. But for this impetus, they could have
no means of reaching the panicle, from its loftiness; nor of bringing
down the stalk with their beaks, from its firmness: nor, from its
slenderness, would their arboreal habits avail them to perch on it.
Numerous flocks of both young and old birds, frequent the millet-fields
from December till the end of February, when this corn is reaped. They
are most busy in their depredations on moonlight nights; and as they
sweep round in circles, their remarkable whistle always betrays their
movements.

The young are frequently taken, and brought up in the poultry yard with
the tame ducks, either pinioned, or sufficiently subdued by kindness
to be allowed liberty. These are always found to attract large flocks
of their wild brethren to the farm-ponds, and are often preserved for
that purpose. The tame birds, which are allowed to roam, even go to
a considerable distance in search of the wild flocks, and bring them
home. Some, with which Mr. Hill was familiar near Spanish Town, always
led the whole flock of aquatic poultry, invariably marching at their
head, when called from the pond to be fed, and when fed, returning in
the same order to the water again.

A gentleman of Spanish Town informs me that the nest of this bird is
usually at the foot of a mangrove, and that it lays eight or nine
eggs. Robinson, however, gives it a different mode of nidification,
having been informed by Mr. Thistlewood of Savanna le Mar, a copious
contributor to his ornithological notes, that “the Whistling Ducks
sometimes make their nests in hollow trees above thirty feet in height,
and the hollows or cavities several feet deep, which makes him at a
loss to know by what method the little ducklings either get up the
hollow, or down the tree when up; but he thinks the old one must carry
them; and I believe this must be soon after they are hatched; for I
cannot suppose she can carry food and water for them into such a place;
it being not known that any birds of this kind ever feed their young.
[See Wilson, on the Summer Duck.] However, I believe the young ducks
may _jump_ out of such a cavity; for a day or two after they have been
hatched, they have been known to jump out of a barrel, and far above
that height.” (MSS. ii. 85.)

“The Whistling Duck endeavours to save her young, when pursued, by
throwing herself into the man’s way; that is, by rushing up so close
to him as to draw his attention, that her young, who are very active,
may have an opportunity of escaping. Accordingly, the man, seeing the
duck so near him, looking upon her as a much better prize than the
young ones, leaves pursuing the ducklings, and endeavours to catch
the subtil dame, who runs before, but takes special care to keep out
of his reach; yet stopping in front of him, occasionally, to make him
renew the pursuit, till the young are entirely out of danger; when she
flies away, leaving her pursuer to fret at his double disappointment.
This I had from a person of credit, who affirmed that himself was thus
deceived. The Whistling Duck is very hard to catch, if its wing only is
disabled; and will outrun a man, if he be not very nimble.

“The Whistling Duck breeds numerous in the morasses of Westmoreland;
in such places they remain all day, and in the evening disperse
themselves over the ponds in the open plains to feed, till near
morning, when they return. It is usual for people to watch for them in
the evening, when they go to feed, and to shoot them. When the gunner
hears them whistling in their flight, he imitates the sound, and thus
lures them to where he is, and, of course, to their destruction. A duck
and mallard with their young brood commonly fly together.” (Rob. MSS.)

Mr. Swainson’s conjectures that this is the male of the Red-billed
species, (Anim. in Menag. p. 223.) and also that it is the female
(Ibid. p. 224.) are both groundless. The Red-bill is perfectly
distinct; and the sexes of the present species do not differ from each
other. The difference in depth of the warm brown tint on the belly and
chin is common to both sexes. The trachea is terminated by a trilateral
bony capsule, where the bronchi divaricate. There is but one pair of
tracheal muscles. The feet-webs are so concave, as to be little more
than semi-palmate.

It is very common in Hayti, where its Indian name, _Iguasa_, is adopted
by the Spaniards.

All Ducks are fond of shaking their tails and their feathers, but
in the Whistling Ducks of both species, from their height, this is
particularly conspicuous.

                   *       *       *       *       *

The Red-billed Whistling Duck (_D. Autumnalis_) though much less common
in Jamaica than the preceding, is found there in some seasons, as an
autumnal visitant from the Spanish-main. I have seen several in a
state of domestication, allowed to run in a yard at Kingston, but they
had been imported.


                       GREEN-BACKED MALLARD.[124]

                         _Anas maxima._—+Mihi.+

             ? _Anas boschas et Cairina moschata_; hybrid.

  [124] Length 30¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 42, flexure 12¹⁄₂, tail 5¹⁄₂,
  breadth of beak 1, height at base 1, rictus 2³⁄₄, tarsus 2³⁄₄,
  middle toe 3¹⁄₄. Irides dark brown; feet orange, front of tarsus,
  of middle and of outer toe, and claws, black; beak blackish brown,
  with a bar of deeper hue. Head, chin, throat, and upper neck, deep
  velvety purple, changeable to sea-green. Lower neck and fore-back
  rich chocolate, with purple gloss, separated from the purple of
  throat by a demi-collar of pure white. Back, wings, rump, and tail
  deep purple brown, with brilliant green reflexions. Secondaries and
  scapulars rich metallic green; the secondaries tipped with white;
  primaries dull black; first and fourth equal, second and third
  equal, longest. Breast deep chestnut, paling to greyish white on
  belly, sides, and vent; the feathers on the upper belly and lower
  breast, black-disked. Sides and vent minutely pencilled with dusky;
  under tail-coverts black, with green gloss. Weight 4¹⁄₄ lbs.

I have ventured to give a name to the magnificent Duck described below,
notwithstanding the opinion of so high an authority as Mr. G. R. Gray,
who, on inspecting my specimen, considered it a hybrid. Though I have
the greatest respect for the judgment of that gentleman, I cannot
feel quite free from doubt on the subject for the following reasons.
At Radonda water, near Savanna le Mar, where my specimen was shot, it
seemed well known to the negro gunners, who had been accustomed to
call it _Wigeon_, and who stated that others had been lately (at the
end of February) seen in the neighbouring waters.

Robinson was acquainted with this identical species, (or variety?)
nearly a hundred years ago. “Mr. Thistlewood shot a Duck and Drake,
which he called the Wild Muscovy Duck and Drake, _not on account_ of
their resembling those birds in colour, but in size, for the Drake
equalled the Muscovy Drake, and the Duck the Muscovy Duck. The Wild
Muscovy Duck, Mr. T. says, was covered with a most elegant, beautiful
plumage, far surpassing that of any bird of this kind he ever saw.”
(MSS. ii. 86.) From an elaborate description and admeasurement, which
the Doctor afterwards gives, I find the male _agrees accurately_ with
mine, save that its expanse was 48 inches, and its tail 7¹⁄₂, the
extremity being curled upwards. _The female_ also was shot, but dived
and escaped: it was in the great pond at Egypt, (close to which mine
was obtained,) November 19th, 1753.

I leave the question thus; merely adding that the trachea of mine, (a
male) terminated in a large pear-shaped bony capsule, on the left side.
The stomach contained hard seeds of sedges, with some vegetable fibre.
The testes were comparatively small.


                         LUNATE BLUEWING.[125]

                         _Cyanopterus discors._

          _Anas discors_,             +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 313.
          _Cyanopterus discors_,      +Eyton+.

  [125] Length 16 inches, expanse 24¹⁄₂, flexure 7¹⁄₄, tail 2¹⁄₂,
  breadth of beak ⁶⁄₁₀, height ⁷⁄₁₀, rictus 1⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  middle toe 1¹⁸⁄₂₀.

This is one of the ducks which, being in high estimation for sapidity,
are largely brought to market in the towns. My acquaintance with it is
indeed confined to this condition. Robinson notices it, as frequently
met with in the wet months. He saw one in the yard of Edward Long,
Esq., of Spanish Town, where it fed amongst the poultry: “it was
coloured like that painted in Mr. Catesby’s History of Carolina, i. p.
100, and was known to be a female by having laid an egg, though Mr.
Catesby says the female is all over brown.” (MSS. ii. 120) Robinson
agrees with Browne in considering this a permanent inhabitant of
Jamaica, having known them shot, even during the dry season.

Of those which I examined, the stomachs contained coarse siliceous
sand, and small black seeds; the œsophagus of one contained several
small fishes.


                          PLAIN BLUEWING.[126]

                    _Cyanopterus inornatus._—+Mihi.+

  [126] Length 15³⁄₄ inches, expanse 24¹⁄₄, flexure 7, tail 2⁹⁄₁₀,
  breadth of beak ⁶⁄₁₀, height ¹³⁄₂₀, rictus 1⁹⁄₁₀, tarsus 1⁶⁄₁₀,
  middle toe 1³⁄₄.

  Irides hazel; beak black; feet dusky clay colour; (in summer,
  yellow.) Crown and hind-head dark brown, speckled with pale
  dashes; sides of head paler brown, with black specks; throat and
  chin drab-white. Lower neck, back, and tail-coverts bistre, with
  horse-shoe lines of pale brown. Scapulars dark brown, with green
  gloss, a narrow border of pale brown. Wing-coverts pale blue;
  winglet, primaries, and primary coverts blackish, with pale inner
  webs; secondary greater-coverts white, with large spots of metallic
  green, which sometimes become disks. Secondaries, outer webs rich
  golden-green, edge of tips pale; tertials long, pointed, brown with
  pale shafts, slightly glossed. Tail feathers dark brown, with pale
  edges, and transverse spots on the outmost. Breast, belly, vent,
  and under tail-coverts silky drab, irregularly mottled and spotted
  with blackish; sides marked with horse-shoes of dark brown and
  pale. Inner surface of wings white.

The Teal which from the absence of the white crescent in both sexes,
I have thus named, is well known in Jamaica, and has probably been
mistaken for the female of _discors_, with which it associates. Its
manners are said to be identical with those of its congener. It much
resembles _C. Fretensis_ of Eyton, but has not the broad yellow spot on
the beak, nor the barred flanks.

The stomachs of such as I have dissected, contained small seeds,
and coarse sand. One was brought me alive in March; its voice, when
alarmed, was a very subdued hissing, like that of a goose, but very
softly. I have met with this species only in Spanish Town.

The eastern point of Old Harbour is occupied by a salt-morass,
immediately opposite Goat Island, which affords the principal supply
of Ducks to the Spanish Town market; and more particularly since the
construction of the railway has driven the birds from Passage Fort. The
morass borders the little cove called Galleon Harbour, and extends over
a small projecting peninsula, where it is cut into natural channels,
intersecting each other at right angles, through which the sea flows,
which are almost as regular as if cut by art. The surf, driven through
them by the sea-breeze, and the frequent passage of boats, keep
these singular canals open, and prevent the growth in them of the
mangroves, which are perpetually throwing out their bow-like roots, and
encroaching on every unoccupied space. It is at the open _pans_ formed
by the intersection of the canals, that the Ducks of various species
congregate: when the gunners approaching in boats up the canals, come
suddenly upon the flocks, and taking them in _enfilade_, bring down
numbers at a shot.


                        SPINOUS SQUAT-DUCK.[127]

                         _Erismatura spinosa._

          _Anas spinosa_,             +Lath.+—Pl. enl. 967.

  [127] Length 13¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 19¹⁄₂, flexure 5¹⁄₁₀, tail 2¹⁄₂,
  breadth of beak at tip ¹³⁄₂₀, rictus 1¹⁄₂, tarsus 1³⁄₁₀, middle
  toe 2. Irides black; beak glaucous green, culmen blackish, under
  mandible colour of the nails; feet yellowish-grey, webs paler.
  Upper head deep bistre; neck minutely mottled with bistre and pale
  umber. Back, scapulars, and less wing-coverts bistre, each feather
  tipped and transversely banded with pale umber; feathers on rump
  velvety, minutely mottled with deep brown and whitish. Tail-coverts
  mottled with dark brown and bright bay. Tail of 18 feathers, very
  narrow, black, worn at tips, the shafts extending beyond the vanes.
  Wings smoke-black; first primary rudimentary; second and third
  sub-equal; the first five secondaries have the basal three-fourths
  of the outer webs pure white, and their greater coverts wholly
  white, forming a white patch in centre of wing. Sides of head
  marked by two bands of brown, one passing through the eye, the
  other from rictus to ear; over each of which is a parallel band of
  pale brown. Chin and throat pale bay, satiny; breast and belly pale
  buff, mottled obscurely with blackish. Tail-coverts both above and
  below, hardly differing from clothing-feathers. Inner surface of
  wings shining grey. Form broad and flattened.

In a broad piece of water near Radonda, which is crossed by the high
road from Savanna le Mar to Negril, and which is connected with the
vast morass that lies behind the former town, I have seen these
curious little Ducks. Rarely more than three are visible at one time,
scattered over the water, often very near the road. They pay very
little attention to passing travellers; but if one stop and gaze at
them, they take alarm, and sink the body lower into the water, until
the back is level with the surface. If they suspect danger, they
gradually sink wholly under water; and if suddenly alarmed they thus
immerse themselves in a moment, _not diving_ as other water birds do,
_but sinking as they sit_, causing scarcely a ruffle of the surface. I
have found them excessively wary, and difficult to shoot; because if
they come up and still suspect danger, they immediately sink again, and
remain beneath an incredible while, even for several hours, unless they
can manage to expose the nostrils to the surface without appearing.
When they do rise, it is in the same noiseless, almost imperceptible
manner, and in the same posture as they went down. Occasionally they
fly, or rather flutter with much flapping of wings, and apparently
painful exertion, across the pond, splashing the surface as they go;
and I have seen one take a higher flight across the road to the lower
water. When undisturbed, they sit long in one place, and spend a good
deal of time in smoothing their plumage.

The stomach of the specimen I obtained, a male, from which the
description was taken, contained only seeds mostly comminuted.

                   *       *       *       *       *

From a recent letter of Mr. Hill’s I extract the following notes. “We
have certainly two if not three different Pond Ducks. With two I am
familiarly acquainted. One is a very beautiful little bird, with such
a prevalence of yellow and red ochre in the plumage, and with the
usual crescent shaped ocellated markings of the Duck tribe, so dark,
as to give it a very quail-like appearance. It has in consequence been
commonly designated the Quail-duck.[128] The secondaries of the wing
are white; the head is dappled black and ochry-white, and the bill is
a brilliant cobalt-blue. The tail is stiff and curved upwards, with
(I think) 16 black feathers which radiate broad and distinct, without
any lapping of one feather over another. In the _nestling_ bird the
feathers are differently formed. They are unwebbed in the centre of
the shaft, the terminal plumes being few, and curved like the Υ of the
Greek alphabet.

  [128] Hence my friend proposes to name it _Erismatura ortygoides_.

“The other is a short squat Duck, almost square in form, the breadth
of its body being equal to its length, and uniformly coloured
_wood-brown_;—a description of the plumage not perhaps very precise,
but so much so with respect to the ordinary hue of the bark of trees,
as to make it sufficiently indicative of the prevailing colour. The
centre shafts of the tail of this bird terminate in long stiff spines,
as stiff and as long as those of a horse-comb.

“I shall not venture to say how far similarity of structure in the
tail of the Erismaturine family of Ducks with that of the Cormorant,
indicates a similarity in the application of this organ for diving
purposes, as Mr. Eyton has conjectured; but a bird kept in a small
pool in a flower garden, into which pond-weeds were daily thrown,
particularly _chara_ and duck-weed, (_pistiaceæ_) upon which it was
supposed to feed, would lead me to think that one important purpose
that this remarkably constructed organ was applied to, was to move
aside the dense vegetation of shallow pools in which it fed. The
habit of this bird was to turn round quick. By this motion it opened
out the weeds on the surface, so graphically described by Shakspeare
as ‘the green mantle of the standing pool,’—and made a clear space
for ‘swithering with its neb,’ as Lincolnshire decoy-keepers would
say. It dived frequently, and the period it remained submerged was
prodigiously long. It swam backward as frequently as forward, and, I
apprehend, found its peculiarly made tail a powerful lever in dilating
the space behind it. The little garden, in which the bird was kept,
that furnished me with these observations, was a fair representation of
its natural haunts. Tufts of flowers, composed of lilies, kincalmias,
and Indian-shot, with intermixtures of young vegetating bananas, were
an apt substitute for the heliconias, nymphæas, cyperaceæ, juncales,
and marantaceous plants, among which it delighted when wild and at
large. It sometimes crept on the bank, and sheltered itself among the
bowery herbage; but the clots of damp weed, strewn around its pond,
were its favourite resting place when out of the water; and there it
sat _crouching_, not sitting upright as the Grebe does. In its natural
haunts it is occasionally flushed, but its flight is exceedingly short,
not usually more than from the bank into the mantling herbage of the
pond, where it instantly disappears in those long submersions I have
already noticed.”

                   *       *       *       *       *

The remaining _Anatidæ_ which have been observed in Jamaica, I shall
dismiss with a bare enumeration, furnished by my esteemed friend to
whom this work is so deeply indebted. Though some of them have fallen
under my own notice, I have nothing to add to their known history.
I treat them in this summary manner, the more willingly, because my
friend is himself preparing for the press a treatise on the migratory
birds of Jamaica, the fruit of many years’ close observation.

      _Chen hyperboreus_,            Snow Goose.
      _Anser Canadensis_,            Canada Goose.
      _Dafila acuta_,                Pintail.
      _Pœcilonetta Bahamensis_,      Ilathera Duck.
      _Mareca Americana_,            Wigeon.
      _Aix sponsa_,                  Summer Duck.
      _Querquedula Carolinensis_,    Greenwing Teal.
      _Rhynchaspis clypeata_,        Shoveler.
      _Chaulelasmus streperus_,      Gadwall.
      _Anas obscura_,                Dusky Duck.
        ”  _boschas_,                Mallard.
      _Cairina moschata_,            Muscovy Duck.
      _Oidemia perspicillata_,       Surf Duck (Dr. Chamb.).
      _Fuligula Americana_,          Pochard.
         ”     _affinis_,            Scaup Duck.
         ”     _rufitorques_,        Tufted Duck.
      _Nyroca leucophthalma_,        White-eyed Duck.


                  +Fam.+—PELECANIDÆ. (_The Pelicans._)

                      RUFOUS-NECKED PELICAN.[129]

                      _Pelecanus fuscus._—+LINN.+

                             Aud. pl. 251.

  [129] Length 47 inches, expanse 79¹⁄₂, flexure 18¹⁄₂, tail 5,
  rictus 12¹⁄₂, tarsus 3¹⁄₄, middle toe 4¹⁄₄.

The high-road from Bluefields to Savanna le Mar winds round the broad
bend of the coast, called Bluefields Bay; for nearly half the distance,
running close to the shore, which in some parts is a low sandy beach,
in others, rocky and precipitous. About a mile from Bluefields the road
recedes about a hundred yards from the sea, the intervening space being
occupied by tall and dense wood, consisting chiefly of manchioneel,
crablight, sweet-wood, and tropic-birch, much tangled by an underwood
of briers and supple-jacks. As we approach the brow of the cliff, we
perceive that the descent, just here, is not a perpendicular rock,
but is a very steep slope, covered with a loose and shifting rubble,
very unpleasant and even dangerous to the feet. Two enormous birches
and a fig, at some distance from each other, springing out of the
brow, spread their immense boughs even over the sea that boils among
the rocks beneath; and the observer needs no informant to tell him
that these trees are occupied as resting places by many large birds.
The earth, and bushes, and rocks beneath, are splashed widely with
white ordure, the fishy fetor of which is diffused all through the
woods, and is but too perceptible even at the highroad. Scattered upon
the ground lie the long bones, bleached in the wind, and the sable
feathers, of several Frigate-birds, who met their death where they had
been accustomed to live; the victims perhaps of disease, or perhaps
of mutual encounters. High up on the loftiest and outmost limbs sit
many Pelicans, some preening their plumage, others, with the long beak
resting on the breast, enjoying a sluggish repose. Frigates and Boobies
are associated with them, but of these we shall speak presently.

From many visits to this place, which commonly goes by the name of the
Pelican hole, I have observed that the Pelicans which resort hither,
leave the roost at early dawn, and fish for two or three hours; they
return about eight o’clock and rest on the roosting trees until about
eleven; then they go abroad again and fish along the shore or sit
lazily on the rocking sea, till dusk, when in long strings they fly
wearily homeward, and spend the night upon their favourite trees.

It is a pleasant sight to see a flock of Pelicans fishing. A dozen
or more are flying on heavy, flagging wing over the sea, the long
neck doubled on the back, so that the beak seems to protrude from
the breast. Suddenly, a little ruffling of the water arrests their
attention; and, with wings half-closed, down each plunges with a
resounding plash, and in an instant emerges to the surface with a
fish. The beak is held aloft, a snap or two is made, the huge pouch
is seen for a moment distended, then collapses as before; and heavily
the bird rises to wing, and again beats over the surface with its
fellows. It is worthy of observation that the Pelican invariably
performs a somerset under the surface; for descending, as he always
does, diagonally, not perpendicularly, the head emerges looking in the
opposite direction to that in which it was looking before. When the
morning appetite is sated, they sit calmly on the heaving surface,
looking much like a miniature fleet.

In the evening, as I have stated, we see them pursuing their laborious
course to repose. Standing at the door of Bluefields, which from a
slight elevation, commands a wide prospect of the beautiful Bay, I
have often watched, in the evening,—while the sun, sinking among his
gilded piles and peaks of cloud on the horizon-sea, leaves the air
refreshingly cool and balmy, while the dying sea-breeze scarcely avails
to break the glassy reflection of the surface,—the straggling flocks of
Pelicans, from a dozen to forty or fifty, passing slowly along over the
shore. On such occasions, they manifest a decided tendency to form long
continuous strings, like ducks. When the flocks are beating for fish,
or sailing round and round on the watch, there is no such arrangement,
but all circle in a confusion equal to that of the planets of the
Ptolemaic system. Yet at any time of the day, in taking a lengthened
flight, whether shifting their locality, or slowly sweeping over the
sea, they usually take a lineal order.

In flying thus in lines, I have been struck with the unity which
they manifest in their motions: the flight is performed by alternate
intervals of heavy flappings, and sailing on outstretched motionless
wing; and the resumption or suspension of the one or the other state,
is regulated by the leading bird of the line. For example; the first
begins to flap; in an instant the second begins, then the third, then
the fourth, and so on, with perfect regularity of succession; and
neither ceases till the first does, and then only each in his own turn.
That this does not depend on the period of each motion being constant,
is shown by the fact, that the duration of either state is very varying
and arbitrary. If a bird be following the same course, near at hand,
but not within the line, he does not regard the succession at all, but
governs his own motion.

The Pelican on alighting on the water to swim, brings his feet, which
before had been stretched out behind, into a standing position, and, as
it were, _slides along the surface_, for several yards before he swims.

Voracious and formidable as is the Pelican to the smaller of the finny
races, he is not without his enemies among them. I once observed a
large Shark gliding along at the surface of the water near a flock of
swimming Pelicans, wilily endeavouring to approach some unwary one
within seizing distance, his triangular dorsal cutting the water and
revealing his progress, and his intentions. The Pelicans were alert,
however, and did not choose a near acquaintance with their insidious
admirer, each one rising into safety upon the wing as he approached. I
fear he went without his supper on that occasion.

The following interesting note, I quote from a valuable paper by
Mr. Hill, “On the aerating powers of birds,” read at a meeting of
the Jamaica Society, June 1st, 1840. “The facility with which the
Pelican resigns itself to fasting, or rouses itself to feasting, was
very interestingly exhibited to me in a bird, I saw the other day at
Passage Fort. It was a domesticated Pelican, of mature age: it winged
backward and forward, visiting the wild flocks, and feeding with them
in the harbour during the day, and withdrew from them to roost in its
master’s yard during the night. In that period of restraint, when it
was necessary to observe the caution of drawing its quill feathers, to
keep it within very diminished capabilities of flight, until it became
familiar and domesticated, it was wholly dependent on the fish provided
for it by the fishermen of the beach. Sunday was no fishing day with
these men; and this was regularly a day on which there were no supplies
for the Pelican. It became in time so conscious of the recurrence of
this fast-day, that although at all other times it went daily down
to the sea-side to wait the coming in of the canoes, on the seventh
day it never stirred from the recumbent trunk of a tree on which it
roosted within the yard. It had been found necessary to pluck its wing
within the last two or three months to restrain it within bounds, in
consequence of its absence latterly with the wild birds for several
days in succession; and in this state it was reduced as formerly to
depend on the fishermen for food. The old habit of abstinence and
drowsy repose on the Sundays again recurred, and when I saw it, it was
once more a tranquil observer of the rest, and with it the fast, of the
Sabbath day.”

Robinson describes one in captivity, as “a bold fierce bird, which
would snap his beak not only at dogs and other small animals, but even
at men and horses, that came inadvertently within his reach.” (MSS.)

The Pelican is sometimes taken much in the same manner as Gannets in
England. A fish is fastened to a board, which is swiftly drawn through
the sea by a canoe under sail; the Pelican plunges down upon it, and
breaks his neck with the violence of the contact. Although the beak is
not pointed, but hooked at the extremity, Sam has assured me that it
has been known to be driven through the soft wood of the cotton tree,
when that has been used for the board. The flesh is eaten by some of
the negroes, notwithstanding its insupportable fishy odour; to overcome
which in some degree, they bury it for some hours in the sand of the
beach, after which they subject it to three or four boilings before it
is eaten.

The term _fuscus_ is but poorly applicable to this bird in adult
plumage: the long and pointed feathers, being black with a central
stripe of pure white, give a hue rather hoary or silvery than fuscous;
and the pale yellow head, and deep chestnut neck, margined with a white
edging, adds a considerable degree of beauty to the whole.

I dissected a female in May; an operation which though performed in
the open air, was almost sufficient to take away the breath. I found
the stomach a long capacious sac without constriction, with thick
muscular walls; there was a round cavity just beyond the pyloric bend;
the intestinal canal was nearly uniform in size, slender, but long,
with many convolutions; it measured 99 inches; near the middle was a
curious conformation, which I have observed in the intestine of the
_Ardeadæ_; as though the tube had been abruptly terminated and closed,
and another tube _let in at the side_ of the former a little way from
the end, which end thus projected like a teat. Two cæca, about 1¹⁄₂
inch long when distended. The appearance of the viscera corresponded in
most particulars to that described by Prof. Owen (Pr. Zool. Soc. 1835)
in _P. rufescens_. The right lobe of the liver was three or four times
greater in volume than the left; the former had its edges rounded;
the latter was sub-globose. The gall-bladder small; the gall deep
brown-yellow. The spleen was large, oval, about 1³⁄₄ by 1¹⁄₄, soft, and
greenish-black. Kidneys about equal, 2 inches by 1 inch. The fat about
the viscera, which was in series of small lumps, was of a deep orange,
or almost salmon-red. I may add that our species seems much more
arboreal than that described by Prof. Owen. On bending the heel-joint,
so as to bring the tarsus up towards the tibia, the toes were strongly
incurved; and on my placing a stick beneath the toes, and then forcibly
bending the heel, the stick was grasped with so much power that it
could with difficulty be dragged away. I perceived from the form which
the foot assumed under such circumstances, that the hind toe is opposed
to the others in grasping or perching, notwithstanding their continuity
of membrane; the web which connects the hind-toe being wide enough to
admit an object like the branch of a tree, when the toes are opposed.

The tongue is singularly minute; the _rami_ of the hyoïd bone, passing
on each side of the larynx, are simply enveloped in the membranes of
the pouch, and at their convergence, there is a minute projecting point
of cartilage about ¹⁄₆ inch long, which is the only apology for a
tongue.

I was astonished to observe that the whole inner surface of the skin
on the trunk, was cellular, especially on the breast; composing an
immense congeries of membranous cells, inflated with air. The pouch
held seventeen pints of water, which when full dripped out at a wound
_in the fore-arm_.


                           DUSKY BOOBY.[130]

                             _Sula fusca._

          _Pelecanus sula_,           +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 207.
          _Sula fusca_,               +Briss.+

  [130] Length 29 inches, expanse 58, flexure 14³⁄₄, tail 7³⁄₄,
  rictus 4⁸⁄₁₀, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 3.

The trees described in the preceding article as constituting the
lodging place of the Pelicans, are frequented also, though less
regularly, by a considerable number of these Boobies. They usually
huddle together, in little groups, sitting closely side by side, so
that four and five may frequently be brought down at a shot.

I have invariably found the stomachs of those thus obtained, quite
empty, and as the Frigate-birds assemble on the same trees, I
conjecture that the Boobies examined had been compelled to disgorge the
prey they had taken, by the assaults of their powerful neighbours: to
avoid whose attacks, probably, they took refuge on the trees. As they
sit, they frequently utter a loud croaking cackle.

One which was disabled, manifested great ferocity, striking forcibly
with the opened beak, endeavouring to pierce with its very acute
points, as well as to cut with its keen saw-like edges. It had the
sagacity to neglect a stick presented, and strike at the hand that held
it; and my fingers could testify to the lacerating power of their
formidable weapon.

The tails of all the specimens that fell into my hands, were much worn
at the extremity; probably from incubation on the rocks. The use of
the very singular pectination of the middle toe, was indicated, by
its being choked up in each one with down. The great length of the
body in these birds is particularly observable when the integuments
are removed. In one specimen, I found lying among the folds of the
intestines, a tape-worm, about three feet in length.

                   *       *       *       *       *

The above is the only _Sula_ that we know anything of, about the
coast of Westmoreland; but Mr. Hill has identified three others from
the Pedro Kays, some of which appear to frequent the little Kays of
the coast near Kingston. I believe they are the _Sula fiber_, or
drab-coloured Booby, _S. piscator_, or White Booby, and _S. parva_, or
Black and white Booby. Of this last Mr. Hill has a pair domesticated,
of whose habits he has favoured me with the following pleasing notes.

“The sympathy shewn by gregarious birds for their wounded companions
is usually never more strongly manifested than in the Boobies. In the
wanton sport of shooting at them when sailing past the kays and islets
they resort to, there are few who have not witnessed the extraordinary
efforts made by the clamorous flock to assist a wounded bird, when
fluttering in the water, and unable to regain the wing. An accident
which happened to one of the two Boobies we have in our yard, gave us
an opportunity of seeing traits of this feeling, and of its attendant
emotions. My little nephew, in chasing with a small whip one of our
birds, entangled the lash about its wing, and snapped the arm-bone.
The one bird not alone shewed sympathy for the other, but exhibited
curiosity about the nature and character of the accident. Our two birds
are male and female. The wounded Booby withdrew into a lonely part of
the yard, and stood there drooping. The female sought him as soon as
she heard his cry of agony, and after ascertaining, by surveying him
all round, that the injury was in the wing, proceeded to prevail on him
to move the limb, that she might see whether he was really disabled
beyond the power of using it for flight. After a quacking _honk_ or
two, as a call to do something required of him, the female stretched
out one of her wings;—the wounded male imitated her, and, making an
effort, moved out, in some sort of way, the wounded member to its
full length. He was now required by a corresponding movement to raise
it:—he raised the broken arm, but the wing could not be elevated. The
curiosity of the female was at a standstill. After a moment’s pause,
her wounded companion was persuaded to make another trial at imitation,
and to give the wings some three or four good flaps. He followed the
given signal, gave the required beats upon the air with so thorough a
good will, to meet the wishes of his curious mate, that he twirled
the broken wing quite round, and turned it inside out. The mischief
was prodigiously increased. It was now necessary to put a stop to this
process of investigation of the one bird into the misfortune of the
other. I came in just as these exhibitions had occurred, and taking up
the bird with its twisted wing, I was obliged after setting the limb,
to restrain him from any further gratification of his mate’s curiosity
by tying the wing into place, and keeping it so tied, till the bone
united. The one now attended the other, and carefully examined, day
after day, the broken limb. Calling on him to make an occasional effort
to raise the disabled and immovable member, she used her ineffectual
endeavours to persuade him to lift it, though tied, by lifting her own
from time to time.

“Though this fellow-feeling was so strongly and so remarkably
manifested with regard to the broken wing,—when feeding together, the
abler female did not hesitate to take advantage of her greater agility,
by snatching away from her mate his share of victuals, and grappling
with him for one and the same piece of meat. Instinct seems to exhibit
simple, not complex emotions. If the male bird had been utterly unable
to feed himself, the female would, possibly, herself have supplied him
with food:—but, able to eat, the undivided passion was the feeding
appetite; and the instinctive habit of striking at the prey, and
grabbing it, was not capable of restraint, or of any modification
whatever.

“The Booby has an uncontrollable predilection for elevated spots as
perching places. If a single stone be higher than others in the yard,
the Booby’s eye perceives it, and there he takes up his station, and
stands, when he has fed, and is satisfied. If a log or a bundle of
wood lie about, he mounts it, and perches upon it to sun himself,
extending his wings over his tail, and erecting his dorsal feathers
for the admission of the genial beams of morning. He roosts upon
similar vantage spots, generally on the tops of the triangular coops
in which are kept our fattening poultry. He has great prehensile power
with his foot; and his serrated middle-toe is frequently applied to
scratch the naked skin about his eyes and face. Our birds are fonder
of flesh meats, such as beef and pork, than of fish. They dislike fat,
and generally reject it, if it be given separately from the lean. They
never drink, and are just as regardless of the water about the yard, as
if they had been as unadapted for it, as hens and turkeys.”[131]

  [131] The following note I received from my friend, since the
  above was prepared for the press. “My male Booby died the other
  day. I found animalcules in the liver. Its anatomy exhibited, in a
  remarkably interesting manner, the fine adaptation for the purposes
  of buoyancy, detailed by Professor Owen in the dissection of the
  kindred Gannet. The muscles showed the air-vessels interspersed
  among them, in a manner altogether surprising. They had the
  appearance, as he expresses it, of being dissected. The bird, in
  the act of expiring, had almost entirely discharged the air from
  about the chest; but very considerable inflation still subsisted
  in the thighs. The large femoral muscle might be said to be almost
  entirely detached from the enveloping integument. The septa of the
  cells seemed alone to attach it to the adjacent flesh. There was
  no adhesion, but along one of its edges.” The cells were strongly
  united to the skin; and the roots of the feathers protruded into
  the internal cavities, as if they grew out of nothing. The cells
  must have performed their office with marvellous readiness, for the
  nerves were easily traceable among them. The air-vessels were like
  so many colourless bubbles.

  “The bird had died during the night by the side of the coop on
  which they both usually roosted, but without attempting to perch.
  As I removed the dead bird before the other Booby had quitted its
  morning roost, it was interesting to see it, under a sense of
  loneliness, running its head into every opened door, to seek its
  lost companion.”


                           FRIGATE-BIRD.[132]

                           _Man-of-war bird._

                           _Fregata aquilus._

      _Pelecanus aquilus_,                  +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 271.
      _Pelecanus leucocephalus_, (young),   +Gmel.+
      _Fregata aquilus_,                    +Cuv.+
      _Tachypetes aquilus_,                 +Vieill.+

  [132] Length 38 inches, expanse 85, flexure 26, tail 17³⁄₄, rictus
  5³⁄₄, tarsus 1, middle toe 3. Male. Irides black; feet black; beak
  bluish-grey, blackish at tip: throat-pouch colour of red-lead,
  slightly pendent at bottom like a dewlap. Whole plumage black,
  sometimes brilliantly glossed, the head and wings with green, the
  neck and fore-back with purple.

  Female. Feet delicate pink (perhaps not constant); orbits and pouch
  pale blue; plumage unglossed, back and wing-coverts smoke-brown;
  breast pure white, which forms a narrow collar. Under parts
  smoke-brown.

  Young. Feet bluish-white. Head, upper-neck, throat, breast and
  belly pure white. The rest of the plumage black, with some
  iridescence.

But that the history of the Pelican and the Booby made allusion to
the roosting place near Bluefields necessary, I should have preferred
to describe it under the present article; for though the trees are
common to the three species, the former two frequent the place less
numerously, and less constantly than the Frigates. At most hours of the
day, one either sees a large number of these birds resting on the lofty
trees, or else soaring and circling round and round over the place.
Occasionally, in the middle of the day we see half a dozen sailing at
an immense height in the air; where their size and colour, the graceful
freedom of their motions, and the sublimity of their elevation, might
cause them to be confounded with the John Crow Vulture, were it not for
the curvature of their wings, the long-pointed tail, often opened and
closed, and a superior elegance in their general form.

Being desirous of knowing at what hour the Frigates came home to
the roosting place, I visited it on several evenings. On the first
occasion, arriving there just as the sun was setting, I found I was
not sufficiently early to witness the congregating of the birds,
for my ears were saluted, even when in the high-road, by the loud
and unpleasant croaking of the Boobies. On my getting to the foot
of the first Birch-tree, I could discern many of these sitting on
the branches; but as the view was much intercepted by the bushes and
trees around, I scrambled down the shingly precipice, to the sea-side.
Then on looking up I saw the boughs of the birch immediately over
my head, studded with these noisy birds, preening their plumage, or
scolding and fighting harshly with one another, as they sat side by
side. While thus gazing upward, I narrowly escaped the misfortune of
Tobit. There may have been thirty Boobies in sight, and about eight
or ten Frigates, but no Pelicans except three on a tree at a little
distance. All on a sudden, however, the Frigates flew off as by common
impulse, accompanied by at least fifty more, which I had not seen, they
having been concealed by the foliage, or having been sitting on the
neighbouring trees,—and by as many Boobies, leaving a good number of
the latter, however, still remaining.

Though they all flew about in various directions over the sea, they did
not retire from the vicinity; but the Frigates presently separated from
the Boobies, taking a loftier elevation, where they sailed and circled
in silent dignity, while the Boobies were clamorous in their evolutions.

The latter soon sought their perches again; and this gave rise to
incessant squabbles, for if a flyer attempted to alight beside a
sitter, the latter, as if affronted at the intrusion, began, with
elevated wings and opened beak, to resist, croaking vociferously. The
Frigates were long before they returned; some sailed out half a mile,
and there performed their elegant manœuvrings, while others still
hovered above the roosting trees. Among these some were wholly black,
some had the white breast of the female sex, and others the white head
of youth, and one was conspicuous by his blood-red pouch, inflated
into a tense bladder beneath his chin. From the fact that very few,
indeed, possess this red pouch, I incline to think it a peculiarity
of mature age; for many had the livery of the adult male, whose pouch
was inconspicuous, and of a pale buff hue. At length, as the increased
darkness gathered in, they also began one by one to settle, very
charily, often making a feint to alight, and again sailing off. Some
slowly wended their way farther down the bay, and some I left still in
the air.

A few days after, I again went between three and four o’clock, but even
then the Frigates were reposing in great numbers, but few Boobies, and
no Pelicans. I shot a Frigate, which of course aroused the whole flock:
and I then had an opportunity of ascertaining their numbers. As they
sailed gracefully round, I counted them twice, and both times made
them about fifty, but of course I could not be quite exact: from other
observations, I should estimate the number of those which habitually
repose there to be about sixty, more or less. During an hour and a half
that I remained, they did not again alight, and when the sun was close
to the horizon they were still soaring in their sublime evolutions.
About one sixth of the number were white-headed, their snowy heads and
breasts gleaming now and then, as the slanting rays were reflected
from them to the observer; and several displayed the inflated scarlet
pouch, a little constricted in the middle. As the Frigate flies, the
form of its wings reminds one of enormous bats, but for the lengthened
tail. When about to alight, they sometimes cackle a little, but are
generally silent. As they sit on the branches they are incessantly
employed in picking the vermin from their bodies, with which they are
much infested. This is done partly with the beak, but partly with the
foot; and I have seen them, after scratching themselves, put up the
foot to the beak, apparently delivering something into the mouth.
Occasionally they throw the head back, and make a loud clattering with
the beak. Passing along the road one forenoon in May, a large number
were wheeling round the roosting place, some alighting, and others
rising. Those which were on the wing uttered, particularly as they
swooped near the tree, on which they made as if they would alight, a
repeated _chuck_, not loud, with a rather rapid iteration.

It would appear that this place has been frequented by the Frigates,
for at least a hundred years. Robinson has this note: “On a large
cotton-tree, between Mr. Wallo’s and the Cave, by the sea-side, come
to roost many Man-of-war birds, about four o’clock in the evenings,
which tree may be easily approached by a canoe, whence the Men-of-war
and other sea-fowl may be shot, either in the evening, or before
sunrise; for the Man-of-war birds will not leave their roosting-places
before sunrise, in this resembling the Noddy. Dr. Gorse of Savanna le
Mar, from whom I had this account, observed that the cotton-tree was
blanched or whitened by their dung.” (MSS. ii. 83.)

I have never seen the Frigate fishing; but have frequently found
flying-fish in its stomach half digested.[133] Nor have I ever seen
it attack the Booby, to make it disgorge, though the fishermen of
Jamaica are familiar with this habit. Dr. Chamberlaine, who apparently
describes from observation, says of the Frigate, “He is almost always
a constant attendant upon our fishermen, when pursuing their vocation
on the sand-banks in Kingston Harbour, or near the Palisados. Over
their heads it takes its aerial stand, and watches their motions with
a patience and perseverance the most exemplary. It is upon these
occasions that the Pelicans, the Gulls, and other sea-birds become its
associates and companions. These are also found watching with equal
eagerness and anxiety the issue of the fishermen’s progress, attracted
to the spot by the sea of living objects immediately beneath them.

  [133] An intelligent fisherman, who is in the habit of trading
  about the coast, and to Cuba, asserts that he has often seen the
  Frigates fishing far out at sea; such large fishes as Bonito,
  that leap out of water, being their prey; which they catch with
  the foot, plunging down on them, and then mounting, deliver the
  booty to the mouth like a Parrot. I feel it right to repeat this
  statement, though I think it improbable, from the weakness of the
  foot. He adds that they breed in great numbers on the Pedro Kays,
  laying on the bare rocks.

“And then it is, when these men are making their last haul, and the
finny tribe are fluttering and panting for life, that this voracious
bird exhibits his fierce and pugnacious propensities. His hungry
companions have scarcely secured their prey by the side of the
fishermen’s canoes, when with the lightning’s dart, they are pounced
upon with such violence, that, to escape its rapacious assaults, they
readily in turn yield their hard-earned booty to this formidable
opponent. The lightness of its trunk, the short tarsi, and vast
spread of wing, together with its long, slender, and forked tail, all
conspire to give him a superiority over his tribe, not only in length
and rapidity of flight, but also in the power of maintaining itself on
outspread pinions in the regions of his aerial habitation amidst the
clouds; where, at times, so lofty are its soarings, its figure becomes
almost invisible to the spectator in this nether world.” (Jamaica Alm.
1843, p. 87.)

I know nothing positive of the nidification of the Frigate. On the face
of Pedro Bluff, about four feet from the surface of the sea, which,
however, in stormy weather dashes furiously into it, there is a hole
into which a man may crawl, but which, within, widens into a spacious
cavern. A person who had visited this place, told me that on its floor
lie the skulls and bones of men, mouldering in damp and decay; the
relics, probably of some of the unfortunate Indians, who preferred
death by famine to the tortures and cruelties of the Spaniards. To
this cave, he affirmed, the Frigates and Pelicans resort to lay their
eggs; depositing them on the projecting ledges and shelves of the soft
and marly rock. On my way up to Kingston from Bluefields in June,
lying windbound under the Pedro, I induced a white man residing there
to accompany me to the face of the Bluff, where he said the Pelicans
and Frigates roosted, and where the former built and laid. After
walking about a mile in the most burning heat, through cacti, aloes,
and spinous bushes, a most peculiar vegetation, and over the sharp
needle-like points of honey-comb limestone, occasionally leaping deep
clefts, we came to the spot. Many birds of both kinds were sitting on
the low stunted trees, but we could not find a single nest nor eggs;
though, as my guide said, at some times they were numerous, but only of
the Pelican; of the Frigate’s nidification he knew nothing.

The gular pouch of the old male, is not connected with the mouth,
like that of the Pelican, but appears to be an air-cell; perhaps
having some analogy to the erectile caruncles of the male Turkey. If
we take the skeleton of the Pelican as a standard, the sternum of
the Frigate is greatly developed _laterally_, as that of the Booby
is, _longitudinally_. The middle claw is pectinated. I think I know
of no bird so infested with entozoic worms as the Frigate. Immense
bunches both of tænoid and cylindrical worms are found in almost
every specimen, besides some curious kinds apparently of a higher
organization. Bird-lice and bird-flies also infest it.

One which was wounded, on being taken up, was fierce, endeavouring to
seize with his beak. And a specimen kept alive by Dr. Chamberlaine,
became animated and pugnacious when the children or servants approached
it, and struck at them with its formidable bill.


                           TROPIC BIRD.[134]

                      _Phaeton æthereus._—+LINN.+

                             Aud. pl. 262.

  [134] “Length 15 inches, expanse 32, flexure 10, beak 3, tail of
  14 feathers, graduated, the middle pair 5 inches, the outmost 3,
  middle toe 1⁸⁄₁₀. Beak white, or very pale yellow; feet white;
  claws black. General plumage white, very silky, especially about
  the head: bases of crown feathers black. Upper neck, back, rump,
  and wing-coverts marked with cross, black, arcuated bars. Beneath
  each eye two black lines, which passing over the eye, meet at the
  back of the head. Tail, shafts and tips black. Five first quills
  have the outer edges and shafts black; the remaining primaries
  and secondaries, bluish; tertiaries chiefly black, with white
  edges, forming a black spot in each wing. Feet far behind.” (Rob.
  _abridged_.)

The bird which Robinson has described (MSS. ii. 124,) in the terms
quoted below, is doubtless to be referred to this species, though from
the shortness of the tail-feathers, and the colour of the beak and
feet, I presume it to have been an immature specimen. He describes
its habits as resembling those of the Terns: it was brought to him
alive, having been knocked off a fish-pot-buoy; he kept it almost a
week, feeding it with the offal of fish, which it ate greedily. When
it attempted to walk, it spread its wings, and waddled along with much
difficulty, which arose not only from the backward position of its
legs, but also from their shortness and weakness. Sometimes it made a
chattering noise, like the Belted Kingfisher, and it had another cry,
not unlike that of a Gull. It would bite, upon occasion, very hard.
The head and neck were very big in proportion.

It is mentioned to me as one of the constant frequenters of the Pedro
Kays.


                     +Fam.+—LARIDÆ. (_The Gulls._)

                           CRESTED TERN.[135]

                           _White Egg-Bird._

                         _Thalasseus Cayanus._

          _Sterna Cayana_,            +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 273.
          _Thalasseus Cayanus_,       +Boie+.

  [135] 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.[136]

                      _Hydrochelidon fuliginosa._

          _Sterna fuliginosa_,          +Gmel.+—Aud. pl. 235.
          _Hydrochelidon fuliginosum_,  +Boie+.

  [136] 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.[137]

                       _Podilymbus Carolinensis?_

          _Podiceps Carolinensis_,      +Lath.+—Aud. pl. 248.
          _Podilymbus Carolinensis_,    +Less.+
          _Sylbeocyclus Carolinensis_,  +Bonap.+

  [137] 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.”


                        WHITE-WINGED GREBE.[138]

                                _Diver._

                         _Podiceps Dominicus._

          _Colymbus Dominicus_,       +Linn.+
          _Podiceps Dominicus_,       +Lath.+—Spix. Av. Br. 101.

  [138] Length 9 inches, expanse 14, flexure 3⁶⁄₁₀, tail 0, rictus
  1³⁄₁₀, tarsus 1³⁄₁₀, middle toe 1³⁄₄, lateral breadth of tarsus
  ⁷⁄₁₀, breadth of toe ⁴⁄₁₀. Irides bright yellow; feet and beak
  black. Upper parts smoky black; wing-quills white; outer webs and
  tips of the first four or five dusky. Chin black; throat and cheeks
  blackish ashy; breast blackish; belly feathers tipped with white,
  giving a mottled appearance. Whole plumage satiny. Intestine 16
  inches; two cæca ³⁄₄ inch long.

The ponds of the cattle-pens are the favourite resorts of this little
Grebe. I have been most familiar with it at the pond of Mount
Edgecumbe, which, though not more than an acre or two in extent, used
to be speckled with a good number of these miniature ducks; their
little black heads and the tops of their backs alone being visible
above the surface. On the slightest alarm, they dive with the quickness
of thought; and so vigilant is their eye and so rapid their motion,
that, ordinarily, the fowling-piece is discharged at them in vain. It
is commonly said of some birds, that they dive at the flash of the pan;
but though I always used percussion-locks, I could never succeed in
hitting one, until I formed a screen of bushes, behind which I might
fire in concealment. I then found no difficulty. Hence, I infer that
their quick eye detects and takes alarm at the small but sudden motion
of the falling hammer. They remain long, and swim far, under water;
coming up where quite unlooked for. Some that I have had an opportunity
of observing when swimming a little beneath the surface, shot along
with expanded wings, almost with the celerity of a fish. They do not
always dive, however, when frightened; sometimes they sink deeper than
before, and swim away almost submerged. When not alarmed, they call and
answer each other, with a loud _clang_, like the note of a trumpet.

One of these birds which I had wounded slightly, on being put into a
large washing-bowl half filled with water, swam awhile; but repeatedly,
when alarmed, by striking vigorously with both feet together, leaped
clean over the edge of the basin. When on the floor, it ran a few
steps at a time, very well, but grotesquely; the body elevated on the
legs almost perpendicularly; but ever and anon, as its first impetus
slackened, it fell on its breast, and sometimes rolled over. After a
while, however, becoming more calm, it walked more easily, still much
raised on the legs; but would suddenly squat down on the belly, and so
remain.

Early in August, I found near the edge of Mount Edgecumbe pond a nest
of this Grebe—a round heap of pond-weed and rotten leaves, flattened at
the top, and slightly hollowed; it was about fifteen inches wide, and
six or eight thick. The top was damp, but not wet, and very warm from
exposure to the sun’s rays. We drew it on shore, for it was entangled
among the branches of a fallen tree, but _not attached_ to them, and
presently found on the matted weed, just below the surface in the place
where we had dragged it, a large white egg, excessively begrimed with
dirt, doubtless from lying on the decaying leaves. On being cleansed, I
found it covered with a chalky coat, easily scratched off.

A few weeks after, I again visited this pond. On approaching before
sun-rise, (for I had travelled by the brilliant starlight of the
tropical heavens,) I saw a Grebe sitting on a new nest, in the same
spot as I had found the former one: this nest was composed of similar
materials, and contained four eggs. Early in December we found another
nest, with the young just peeping from the egg. It is probable,
therefore, that several broods are reared in a season.

One of my lads, who has lived close by this pond, affirms that the
birds move the nest about to different parts of the pond; and that they
use the same till it will no longer hold together, and then construct
a new one. He also states that they often fight during the night; and
that the conquered ones resort to a smaller pond, where they may be
easily captured by hand: for, by chasing them to and fro, the small
pond being shallow, they at length become wearied, and will dive no
more, but make for the shore, and are caught before they can fly.

The flesh is dark and oily. The gizzards of all that I obtained were
filled with a finely comminuted substance, rather dry, of an unctuous
appearance, and mingled with short silky filaments. A close examination
with a lens failed to determine its nature; but I believe it to have
been principally vegetable.


                   *       *       *       *       *
                   *       *       *       *       *

The author, in bringing to a close these notices of “The Birds of
Jamaica,” craves the indulgence of his readers to make an observation
on the use of such studies. The Christian is taught, whatsoever
he does, to do all “to the glory of God;” and as “whoso offereth
_praise_ glorifieth” Him, the constant object of our investigations
should be the bringing out to view fresh proofs of His unspeakable
wisdom, skill, power, forethought, care, and love, in the creation,
preservation, and sustentation of His creatures. The gratification
of scientific curiosity is worse than idle, if it leads not to this:
whatever exactness of knowledge we may acquire, or whatever scientific
skilfulness we may attain, is, without this result, “but shaping
letters aright without learning to know their signification and
value.” “It is _God appearing in the creatures_, that is the life, and
beauty, and use, and excellency of all the creatures;—without Him they
are but carcases, deformed, useless, vain, insignificant, and very
nothings.”[139]

  [139] Baxter’s “Walking with God,” Ch. i. ¶ 9.




                                 INDEX.


  Auk, 437.

  Avocet, 389.


  Banana bird, 226.

  Bittern, American, 346.
    green, 340.
    yellow, 343.

  Blackbird, Savanna, 282.

  Blue wing, lunate, 401.
    plain, 402.

  Booby, black and white, 418.
    drab, 418.
    dusky, 417.
    white, 418.

  Bulfinch, black, 254.
    pied, 259.

  Butter-bird, 229.

  Buzzard, red-tailed, 11.


  Canary, golden, 245.

  Cashew-bird, 231.

  Cedar-bird, 197.

  Clucking-hen, 355.

  Coot, 384.

  Crab-catcher, 340.

  Crake, minute, 372.
    striated, 371.
    red-eyed, 375.

  Creeper, black and white, 134.
    black and yellow, 84.
    spotted, 87.

  Crow, jabbering, 209.

  Cuckoo, black-eared, 281.
    yellow-billed, 279.

  Curlew, black, 348.
    white, 348.


  Diver, 440.

  Duck, dusky, 408.
    gadwall, 408.
    Ilathera, 408.
    Muscovy, 408.
    pintail, 408.
    pochard, 408.
    scaup, 408.
    shoveler, 408.
    squat, 404.
    summer, 408.
    surf, 408.
    tufted, 408.
    whistling, 395.
    white-eyed, 408.


  Egg-bird, 431, 433.


  Finch, yellow-back, 247.

  Flamingo, 390.

  Flat-bill, buff-winged, 166.
    black-billed, 167.

  Fly-catcher, redstart, 164.
    white-eyed, 192.
    red-eyed, 194.

  Frigate, 422.


  Gallinule, Martinico, 377.
    scarlet-fronted, 381.

  Gambet, yellow-shanks, 351.
    bar-flanked, 352.

  Gaulin, black-legged, 336.
    blue, 337.
    common, 334.
    red-necked, 338.

  Glass-eye, 142.

  Goose, Canada, 408.
    snow, 408.

  Gowrie, ringed, 51.

  Grass-quit, bay-sided, 253.
    black-faced, 252.
    yellow-faced, 249.

  Grebe, black-throated, 438.
    white-winged, 440.

  Grosbeak, rosy, 259.

  Guinea-fowl, 325.

  Gull, laughing, 437.


  Hawk, chicken, 11.
    duck, 16.
    eagle, 19.
    fish, 19.
    pigeon, 17.

  Heron, great, 346.
    night, 344.
    white, 346.

  Hopping-dick, 136.

  Humming-bird, long-tailed, 97.
    mango, 88.
    vervain, 127.

  Hunter, 277.


  Ibis, scarlet, 348.


  Jay, black-headed, 208.

  John-to-whit, 194.

  Judy, 187.


  Kickup, Bessy, 151.
    land, 152.

  Kingfisher, belted, 81.

  Kite, fork-tailed, 19.

  Knit, 354.


  Lapwing, 304.

  Loggerhead, 177, 186.


  Macaw, blue and yellow, 261.
    green, 261.
    red and blue, 261.
    yellow-headed, 260.

  Mallard, 408.
    green-backed, 399.

  Mangrove-hen, 364.

  Man-of-war bird, 422.

  May-bird, 279.

  Mocking-bird, 144.


  Night-hawk, 33.

  Nightingale, 144.

  Noddy, 434.


  Orange-bird, 231.

  Ortolan, 229.

  Owl, eared, 19.
    little brown, 22.
    screech, 23.


  Parroquet, common, 263.
    mountain, 270.

  Parrot, black-billed, 266.
    yellow-billed, 269.

  Partridge, blue, 324.
    mountain, 320.
    Spanish, 324.

  Pea-dove, 307.

  Pelican, 409.

  Petchary, common, 177.
    foolish, 168.
    grey, 169.
    red, 186.

  Petrel, 437.

  Pigeon, bald-pate, 299.
    blue, 296.
    ground-dove, 311.
    mountain witch, 316.
    partridge, 320.
    peadove, 307.
    ring-tail, 291.
    whitebelly, 313.
    whitewing, 304.

  Piramidig, 33.

  Plover, golden, 333.
    kildeer, 330.
    ring, 333.
    short-billed, 330.
    squatting, 333.
    turnstone, 333.

  Potoo, common, 41.
    white-headed, 49.


  Quail, 328.

  Quit, banana, 84.
    blue, 238.
    grass, 249.
    orange, 236.

  Quok, 344.


  Rail, Carolina, 371.
    red, 369.

  Rainbird, 273, 277.


  Sanderling, 354.

  Sandpiper, bar-tail, 350.
    little, 348.
    knit, 354.
    spotted, 349.

  Shrike, black, 187.

  Snipe, 353.

  Solitaire, 198.

  Sparrow, cotton-tree, 254.

  Spoonbill, rosy, 346.

  Stilt, rosy, 386.

  Sultana, 377.

  Swallow, blue, 69.
    cave, 64.
    golden, 68.

  Swift, black, 63.
    palm, 58.
    ringed, 51.


  Tanager, scarlet, 235.
    red-throat, 236.

  Teal, greenwing, 408.

  Tern, black, 437.
    crested, 431.
    Sandwich, 434.
    silver, 437.
    noddy, 434.

  Thrush, gold-crowned, 152.
    water, 151.
    wood, 144.

  Tichicro, 242.

  Tinkling, 217.

  Tody, 72.

  Tropic-bird, 430.

  Turkey, 329.


  Vulture, John-crow, 1.


  Warbler, arrowhead, 163.
    aurora, 158.
    black-throat, 160.
    blue yellow-back, 154.
    olive, 162.
    red-back, 159.
    red-poll, 157.
    yellow-rump, 155.
    yellow-throat, 156.

  Water-partridge, 369.

  Wigeon, 408.

  Willet, 354.

  Woodcock, 354.

  Woodpecker, radiolated, 271.
    yellow-bellied, 270.

  Worm-eater, 150.


  Yellow-throat, 148.

                                 FINIS.


                                LONDON:
          Printed by +S. & J. Bentley+, +Wilson+, and +Fley+,
                        Bangor House, Shoe Lane.




                        THE CANADIAN NATURALIST.

          A SERIES OF CONVERSATIONS ON THE NATURAL HISTORY OF
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                         Transcriber’s Notes:

  - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
  - Text enclosed by pluses is in small caps (+Small Caps+).
  - Blank pages have been removed.
  - Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.
  - Errata have been applied.
  - Description footnotes have been moved to just after the species
    header, for consistency and to avoid interruption of the main text.