Illustrations of the Birds of California, Texas, Oregon, British and Russian America

by John Cassin

A.

1. Cathartes aura. (Linn.) The Turkey Buzzard. The Turkey Vulture. Vultur aura. Linn. Syst. Nat., I. p. 122. (1766.) Cathartes septentrionalis. De Weid Reise, I. p. 162. (1839.)

Catesby Nat. Hist. Carolina, I. pl. 6. Vieill. Ois. d’Am. Sept. I. pl. 2. Wilson Am. Orn. IX. pl. 75, fig. 1. Aud. B. of Am. pl. 151.

Plumage, commencing on the neck with a circular ruff of rather long and projecting feathers. Head and upper part of neck, naked, or with scattering, down-like feathers, especially on the vertex, and with the skin wrinkled. Nostrils, large, oval, communicating with each other; tail, rather long, rounded.

Entire plumage, brownish black, darkest on the neck, back and tail above; many feathers having a purple lustre on the upper and under parts of the body, and with pale brownish borders on the upper parts. Bill, yellowish white; wings and tail, paler beneath. Head and neck, in living bird, bright red.

Total length of skin about 30 inches; wing, 23; tail, 12 inches.

Hab. The entire territory of the United States—rare in New England. Wisconsin, (Dr. Hoy,) Oregon, (U. S. Ex. Exp. Vincennes.) New Mexico, (Dr. Henry.) California, (Dr. Gambel.) Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada.

Obs. This species is abundant in the Southern, and of quite frequent occurrence in the Middle States of the Union; but it rarely visits the northeastern, or on the Atlantic, is seldom met with north of New Jersey. In the southern part of the State of Delaware, and in Maryland, it is very abundant, migrating farther south in the winter. It subsists entirely on dead animals, which it devours in every stage of decomposition or putridity.

A South American species, long considered as identical with the present bird, is now well ascertained to be distinct, and is the Vultur jota. Molina. This name has been erroneously applied to the Carrion Crow or Black Vulture of the United States. The South American species is the smaller, is more slender in all its members, and all the specimens that we have seen have been of a more uniform clear black colour.

2. Cathartes atratus. (Bartram.) The Carrion Crow. The Black Vulture. Vultur atratus. Bartram Travels, p. 289. (1791.) Vultur urubu. Vieill. Ois. d’Am. Sept., p. 53. pl. 2. (1807.)

Wilson Am. Orn. IX. pl. 75, fig. 2. Aud. B. of Am. pl. 106.

Plumage commencing higher on the back of the neck than on its sides or in front, and there consisting of short feathers. Head and naked portion of the neck, warted or corrugated, and thinly covered with short hair-like feathers, bill rather long, nostrils large, and communicating with each other; tail, even; legs, rather long.

Entire plumage, deep uniform black, with a bluish gloss; under surface of primaries nearly white.

Total length (of skin) about 23 inches, wing 16½; tail 8½ inches.

Hab. Southern States, Texas (Audubon), California, Oregon (U. S. Ex. Exp. Vincennes). Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada.

Obs. Abundant in the Southern States, and gregarious, congregating in large numbers in the cities, where they are of service in the destruction of all descriptions of rejected or waste animal matter.

The South American bird usually regarded as identical with this bird, is the Vultur brasiliensis. Ray. It is considerably smaller, and otherwise quite distinct.

3. Cathartes californianus. (Shaw) The Californian Vulture. Vultur californianus. Shaw, Nat. Misc. IX. p. 1, pl. 301. (1797.) Vultur columbianus. Ord. Guthries’ Geog. II. p. 315. (1815.) Cathartes vulturinus. Temm. Pl. col. I. pl. 31. (1820.)

Aud. B. of Am. pl. 411. Gray Gen. of B. pl. 2. Licht. Trans. Berlin Acad. 1838, pl. 1.

Size, large. Plumage commencing on the neck near the body, with a ruff of long, lanceolate feathers, which are continued on the breast. Head and neck bare, or with a few short feathers on the vertex, and at the base of the upper mandible; bill rather long, nostrils small, communicating with each other; wings long, primaries pointed; tail long, slightly rounded; tarsi and feet very strong.

Entire plumage black, many feathers narrowly tipped with brown, secondary quills with a grayish tinge, greater coverts tipped with white, which forms a transverse bar on the wing. Bill, yellowish white. Iris, carmine. Head and neck, in living bird, orange yellow. (Gambel.)

Total length (of skin) about 45 inches, wing 31, tail 15 inches.

Hab. California, Oregon. Spec. in Mus. Acad., Philada.

Obs. This large Vulture is inferior only in this family to the Condor of South America. It is restricted to the countries west of the Rocky mountains, where in the vicinity of rivers it is occasionally abundant, living principally on dead fishes. It appears to be, however, more cautious and timid in its habits than the other birds of this group, and constructs its nest in the remote recesses of the mountains.

B.
SPECIES PROBABLY OCCURRING IN THE UNITED STATES.

1. Cathartes burrovianus. Cassin, Proc. Acad. Philada. II. p. 212, (1845.) Burrough’s Vulture.

Resembling C. aura, but much smaller. Plumage on the neck ascending behind, as in C. atratus; bill, rather short; tail, rounded; tarsi, rather long. Entire plumage, deep uniform black, without brown edgings.

Total length of prepared specimen, from tip of bill to end of tail, about 22 inches, wing 18, tail 8½ inches.

Hab. Mexico, Vera Cruz (Dr. Burrough), Mazatlan (Dr. Gambel). Spec. in Mus. Acad., Philada.

Obs. This is the smallest of all known Vultures, and though strictly of the same genus as C. aura, may readily be recognized by its small size. It is very probably to be found in California, and the late Dr. Gambel thought that he had seen it in that country, and at Mazatlan. (Jour. Acad. Philada. I. p. 26, quarto.)

II. GENUS SARCORAMPHUS. Dumeril Anal. p. 32, (1806.)

GYPAGUS. Vieill, Anal. p. 21, (1816.)

Head and neck naked, the former with an elevated fleshy caruncle. In all other characters much resembling Cathartes.

2. Sarcoramphus sacer. (Bartram) The Sacred Vulture. Vultur sacra. Bartram, Travels in Florida, p. 150, (1791.)

Original description.—“The bill is long, and straight almost to the point, where it is hooked or bent suddenly down, and sharp; the head and neck bare of feathers nearly down to the stomach, when the feathers begin to cover the skin, and soon become long and of a soft texture, forming a ruff or tippet, in which the bird, by contracting his neck, can hide that as well as his head; the bare skin on the neck appears loose and wrinkled, which is of a bright yellow colour, intermixed with coral red; the hinder part of the neck is nearly covered with short stiff hair; and the skin of this part of the neck is of a dun purple colour, gradually becoming red as it approaches the yellow of the sides and forepart. The crown of the head is red; there are lobed lappets of a reddish orange colour, which lay on the base of the upper mandible. The plumage of the bird is generally white or cream colour, except the quill feathers of the wings and two or three rows of the coverts, which are beautiful dark brown; the tail, which is rather large and white, is tipped with this dark brown or black; the legs and feet of a clear white; the eye is encircled with a gold coloured iris, the pupil black.” Bartram, as above, p. 150, 151.

Obs. The identification of the bird here described, may be considered as one of the most important services to be performed in North American Ornithology. Its occurrence has never been noticed since the time of the accurate and veracious naturalist who first described it, and his careful description above quoted seems to clearly indicate it to be a species entirely unknown. The white tail especially is characteristic, and establishes a clear distinction from any other known species. It is related evidently to the King Vulture, (S. papa,) but that species has a black tail, and in case of mistake or misprint in Bartram’s description, it may be presumed at any rate to relate to an occurrence of that species within the United States. There is no more inviting nor more singular problem in North American Ornithology.

C.
SPECIES, THE OCCURRENCE OF WHICH IN THE UNITED STATES IS DOUBTFUL.

1. Sarcoramphus gryphus. (Linn.) The Condor.

Bonap. Am. Orn. IV. pl. 22. Temm. pl. col. 133, 408, 464. Zool. Voy. Bonité, Birds, pl. 2, (Paris, 1841.)

Size, large. Head, neck, and large space on the breast, bare. Plumage, black, with a white space on the wing; neck, with a collar or ruff of white downy feathers; plumage of the back, the quills and tail frequently with a gray tinge. Head above with a large caruncle or comb, and others on the sides of the head and neck.

Total length of skin, about 4 feet, wing about 2 feet 6 inches, tail about 15 inches.

Hab. South America.

Obs. The famous Condor of the Andes, though it has been admitted as a North American bird into the works of Bonaparte and Nuttall, cannot at present, in our opinion, be so regarded. The description in the History of the Expedition of Lewis and Clarke, which was supposed to relate to this bird, and has been the sole authority for its introduction by the authors just mentioned, very probably applies to the Californian Vulture. No other travellers have seen the Condor, either at the localities mentioned by Lewis and Clarke, or elsewhere in North America. It is common in the western parts of South America. The most complete descriptions with which we are acquainted are by Humboldt, in Zoological Observations, I. p. 26, (Recuil d’Observationes de Zoologie et d’Anatomie comparée Paris, 1811, quarto,) and by Darwin in Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle, Birds, p. 3, (London, 1841,) and by the same author in Voyage of a Naturalist, I. p. 234, 238, (American edition, New York, 1846, duodecimo.)

2. Sarcoramphus papa. (Linn.) The King Vulture.

Spix. Av. Bras. pl. 1. Buff. Pl. Enl. 428. Vieill. Gal. pl. 3.

Plumage on the neck, dusky cinereous; wings and tail, glossy black; all other parts, fine pale fulvous. Head and upper part of neck naked, the former with an elevated and conspicuous caruncle arising from the cere.

Total length of skin about 28 inches, wing 18, tail about 9 inches.

Hab. South and Central America. Mexico.

Obs. The King Vulture is the most handsome bird of its family. Though admitted by Nuttall as a bird of the United States (Manuel, I. p. 40, Boston, 1840,) no instance is recorded, or has otherwise come to our knowledge, of its having been observed north of Mexico. It is not improbable, however, that it may yet be found in Texas or in California, or possibly in Florida. It is described by Hernandez as an inhabitant of Mexico, in his “New History of the Plants, Animals, and Minerals of Mexico,” p. 319, (Nova, plantarum, animalium et mineralium Mexicanorum, Historia, Rome, 1651, folio,) and has found a place in the works of all authors on general Ornithology, and been noticed by many travellers.

The above comprise all the Vultures which have been hitherto known or supposed to inhabit America, north of Mexico. There are three other species which appear to be peculiar to South America and the islands of West Indies, (particularly the more southern of them,) all of which more or less intimately resemble our species of the North. They are Cathartes jota (Molina), described in Geog. Nat. and Civil Hist. of Chili, American edition, I. p. 185, (Middletown Conn. 1808, octavo,) Cathartes Brasiliensis, Bonaparte Consp. Av. p. 9, and Cathartes urbicola, Des Murs Rev. and Mag. de Zool. April, 1853. The latter is a large and very remarkable species which has only recently been ascertained to frequent the cities of several of the West Indies.

Nearly all of the American Vultures are remarkable for a disposition manifested, in a greater or less degree, to resort to cities, or even more isolated abodes of men, for the purpose of procuring food. In the southern cities of the United States, the Black Vulture congregates in large numbers; its relative of South America (Cathartes Brasiliensis) possesses the same habit, and is exceedingly abundant in the cities of the countries that it inhabits. Even the gigantic Condor does not hesitate to make its appearance in the vicinity of villages or dwellings in the western countries of South America for the same purpose. In this respect these birds resemble the most common European bird of their family which inhabits southern Europe, and also Asia and northern Africa; the Neophron percnopterus or Egyptian Vulture. The latter is, however, very different in colour, being nearly white when adult, and clean, which is an important consideration in a bird of habitually filthy habits.

Travellers have represented the male of the Condor as larger and as having more handsome plumage than the female. We hope to be excused for here asking attention to this point, should opportunity occur to any of our readers. It is the only known or supposed instance in the order of Rapacious Birds, of the male being the larger, and, if true, of course establishes an exception hitherto not recognized by naturalists. In these birds, and especially in the Falcons and Eagles, the difference in the size of the sexes of the same species is often very remarkable, but the larger is invariably the female.

Further experiments and observations by persons having suitable opportunities and facilities are very desirable for the purpose of ascertaining the degree of development of the senses of sight and smell in the Vultures. Eminent authors have maintained quite opposite views on this subject, some attributing the fact that they perceive objects suitable for their food from a distance, to the acuteness of their sight and others to their power of smelling. This is yet an open question, though there is a very considerable amount of evidence on each side, and may be regarded as presenting an interesting field for further investigation.

Plate 11
Kirtland’s Owl
Nyctale Kirtlandii (Hoy)

NYCTALE KIRTLANDII.—(Hoy.)
Kirtland’s Owl.
PLATE XI.—Adult Male.

Having in the eastern portion of the United States no traditions nor architectural remains which date beyond the first settlement of the white man, our people are but little prone to many of the superstitions which have prevailed in the old world. In the absence of the ruined monastery or crumbling abbey, of the ivy-covered baronial castle and haunted tower, local and legendary superstitions especially, have found no considerable nor permanent place in the popular mind.

Some reliance in the influence of the moon, and a small degree of attention to the aspect of the sign of the zodiac according to the time-honored frontispiece in the almanac, both materially lacking in the important requisite of full and trusting faith, are very nearly the only mysteries which can be regarded as having acquired a practical adoption in any appreciable degree. Others, as the witchcraft of former and the Spiritualism of latter times, as in other countries, have temporarily assumed aspects of more or less importance, but have either disappeared, or, awaiting the certain test of Christian enlightenment and unprejudiced examination, have taken the form of religious faith, and are held in conscientious veneration. An occasional exception may be found, too, in the local transplanting of an European, or perhaps of an African tradition, but many superstitions of the old world are almost absolutely unknown; the evil Banshee, the gentler Brownie, Puck and Oberon, Mab and Titania have no local habitation, though well beloved as beautiful accessories in the immortal productions of the poets, or as told by an humble mother to her children in tales of remembrance of her native land.

In the higher order of legends—in those which record facts or dim histories of exceeding antiquity, or in which are embalmed the deeds of the remote hero, though even more faded than his features on the mouldering wall or the faded marble—young America pleads her youth. But not without product—and as that which has been shall be again, as legends and traditions like to those of other nations will very probably be amongst the results of American mind, there is one American name, perhaps as yet one only, which may become mythical or even now is. When thousands of years shall have rolled away, and the annals of the present age shall be known only to the scholar and the antiquary of those times in precious scraps and fragments, the adjusting of which shall require the skilfulness of learning, some future Lepsius or Layard may recognise in a wise Minos or in a just Nemesis, the American Washington.

The Republic of the United States has acquired its position as a nation, and in fact has existed only in an age of enlightenment, and the universal attention to education and the diffusion of general knowledge which happily has ever prevailed in a degree not exceeded in any country, has necessarily prevented in a great measure the forming of orally transmitted histories or of legendary fables, and there being no ruins of buildings nor other evidences of the decay of past ages, our people do not associate with ideas of desolation, animals which might have found suitable habitations in such localities, nor have they attributed traditional associations or characters.

We have no birds of ill omen, and even the long-defamed Owl has escaped his usual reputation; not that he is regarded with favor, rather the reverse; but for other reason than attributed connexion with supernatural agents; nor is his appearance in the neighborhood of the farm-house or the settler’s cabin regarded as at all ominous, except of immediate danger to whatever of the domestic poultry may have attracted his attention, or in any degree foreboding, unless of his own abrupt demise in case he happens to be observed by the proprietor, having at hand his trusty rifle or fowling-piece. The owl takes the greater risk in such an adventure.

On account, in some measure, of their peculiar forms, particularly their large heads and staring eyes, their nocturnal habits, and their habitually resorting in the day-time to secluded haunts in the forest or other little-frequented localities, no animals have been more invariably regarded as of evil portent than owls. And in this character they have found a place in the literature, and especially the poetry, of nearly all nations ancient and modern. The Latin writers seldom fail to mention the appearance of the owl among the omens and prodigies which they frequently enumerate as having preceded disasters to the state or to distinguished personages. Pliny in his Natural History, gravely devotes a chapter to Inauspicious Birds, and gives the owl a post of distinction in this manner: “The owl, a dismal bird, and very much dreaded in public auguries, inhabits deserts which are not only desolate, but dreary and inaccessible: it is a monster of night, nor does it possess any voice but a groan. Thus, when it is seen in towns or in daylight, it is an omen to be dreaded.” Book x., chapter 12. The poets give him the same reputation, but perhaps only in the legitimate exercise of their art. The poet is privileged in the entire domain of nature, and Virgil and Shakspeare have forever commemorated, though somewhat infamously, the Owl. The former alludes to it as one of numerous precursors of the death of Dido:

“Solaque culminibus ferali carmine bubo

Sæpe queri, et longas in fletum ducere voces.”

“Whilst lonely on the roof, night’s bird prolongs

The notes of woe, and shrieks funereal songs.”

Shakspeare uses the Owl in the same capacity of direful portent. Thus Casca, in allusion to omens preceding the death of Cæsar:

“And yesterday, the bird of night did sit

Even at noon-day upon the market-place

Hooting and shrieking:”

and in Macbeth he introduces its cry as an accompaniment of the murder of Duncan:

“Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shrieked,

The fatal bellman, which giv’st the stern’st good-night.

He is about it:”

and again in Henry the Sixth:

“The owl shriek’d at thy birth; an evil sign;

The night-crow cried, aboding luckless time,

Dogs howl’d, and hideous tempests shook down trees.”

Shakspeare has various other passages of much the same tenor, and so have many other poets of the English and other languages; but, as we can say truly with Cowper (in Task):

“The jay, the pie, and e’en the boding owl,

That hails the rising moon, have charms for us,”

we have no intention at all of making out a strong case of bad reputation against him, even from the poets. We ought to say, though, that he has borne this reputation much more recently than the time of Pliny, and in some countries of the old world has scarcely yet attained a character of entire respectability. There might be a difficulty, however, in deciding which is the more remarkable, the things said of him, or the gravity of the sayer. A writer, cited in Brand’s Popular Antiquities, says to the point: “In the year 1542, at Herbipolis or Wirtzburg, in Franconia, this unlucky bird by his screeching songs affrighted the citizens a long time together, and immediately followed a great plague, war, and other calamities. About twenty years ago, I did observe that in the house where I lodged, an Owl groaning in the window presaged the death of two eminent persons who died there shortly after.” Another, bringing the matter to a more general bearing, says: “If an owl, which is reckoned a most abominable and unlucky bird, send forth its hoarse and dismal voice, it is an omen of the approach of something: that some dire calamity and some great misfortune is near at hand.” And amongst many similar stories, it is related by an old author, that when a Duke of Cleves was suffering with the disease of which he afterwards died, an Owl was seen and heard frequently upon the palace of Cleves in the day-time, and could scarcely be driven away. Very wonderful, but not calculated for the present meridian, and happily rather out of date generally. It would scarcely suit the citizens of our frontier States to regard in any such aspect the nightly serenades of the Great Horned Owl, though performed in a style entirely appropriate.

Other nations, and some more ancient than the Romans, also regarded the Owl with various degrees of superstition. In Egypt, at one period, an image of an Owl transmitted by the supreme authority to a subject, was an intimation in established form, that the latter would particularly oblige his sovereign by immediately committing suicide. With which civil invitation, compliance, at earliest convenience, appears to have been necessary, not entirely as a matter of mere politeness, but to save himself from aspersions as a man of honor and a gentleman. An instance is related by Diodorus Siculus, in which a person placed in such a dilemma and manifesting some repugnance and uncourtly backwardness, was put to death by one of his parents to save their house from disgrace.

But the people of the present day have been favored to live in an age characterized in all Christian countries by the diffusion of truth and the progress of intellectual cultivation, and in which, as a peculiar feature, the physical sciences especially have tended to dispel the mists of ages. In accordance with the spirit of it, modern writers rarely resort to the adoption, even in poetic composition, of ungrounded popular errors. Thus, with no such implication, Coleridge, in Christabel, introduces the Owl in an opening chorus:

“’Tis the middle of the night by the castle-clock,

And the owls have awakened the crowing cock.

Tu—whit!—tu-whoo!

And hark again! the crowing cock

How drowsily he crew.”

And beautiful too is the allusion to the Owl by Longfellow, in Hyperion: “For the owl is a grave bird; a monk who chants midnight mass in the great temple of Nature.”

Kirtland’s Owl, which we present to our readers in the plate now before us, is one of the most recent additions to the Ornithological Fauna of this country, and was first brought to notice by Philo R. Hoy, M. D., an eminent naturalist and physician of Racine, Wisconsin, who has ascertained its occurrence, and has succeeded in obtaining several specimens in the neighborhood of that city.

It appears, however, to be by no means a common species, though having been observed in the season of incubation, as well as in the winter, it may be presumed to be a constant resident, and further investigation may bring to light full details of its history. It belongs to a group composed of several species of small owls, found in the northern regions of both continents, the most common of which, in this country, is the little Acadian Owl (Nyctale acadica), a curious and rather handsome little species not very well known in the rural districts, but sometimes occurring, and also occasionally captured, in the cities. It is the least of the owls of the Atlantic States. Another species is known as Tengmalm’s Owl (N. Tengmalmii), which inhabits the higher northern latitudes of America and Europe.

Like the other small species of its family, the present Owl probably subsists on the smaller birds and quadrupeds and on insects. The last form no inconsiderable portion of the food of the smaller Owls. We have repeatedly found the remains of insects in the stomachs of several species; and in 1851, during the period of the appearance of the Seventeen-year Locust (Cicada septemdecim) in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, we enjoyed an opportunity, in company with several members of the Academy of Natural Sciences of this city, of observing the common Red Owl (Ephialtes asio) while engaged in feeding on insects of that remarkable species. It captured them principally in an apple-tree in which it was first noticed, but occasionally pursued its object to the ground, and with a degree of adroitness and avidity which fully evinced that it had been accustomed to similar occupation.

Dr. Hoy’s description of the species now before us was first published in the Proceedings of the Philadelphia Academy, VI. p. 211, (Dec. 1852,) from which we make the following extract:

“But two specimens of this bird have been taken, to my knowledge; the first was captured in October 1851, and kept until winter, when it made its escape; the second, that from which the above description was taken, flew into an open shop, July 1852. It is strictly nocturnal, utters a low tremulous note, and is an active and efficient mouser.”

We have been informed by Dr. Hoy that during the past summer (1853,) he had succeeded in obtaining another specimen which proved to be a female. It is slightly larger than the male, but similar in all other respects.

The figures in our plate represent the male bird, and are about two-thirds of the size of life.