DESCRIPTION AND TECHNICAL OBSERVATIONS.
Genus Diomedea. Linnæus. Syst. Nat., I., p. 214. (1766.) Diomedea brachyura. Temm. Pl. col., V., p. (liv. 75, about 1828.) Diomedea nigripes. Aud. Orn. Biog., V., p. 327. (1839.)
Form. Very similar to Diomedea exulans, but much smaller; bill rather long, strong, abruptly hooked at the end; wings long, pointed, first quill longest; tail short; legs strong; toes long, fully webbed.
Dimensions. Total length (of skin) about 28 inches; wing 20; tail 6 inches.
Colors. Adult. Primaries, greater wing coverts, tips of secondaries and tertiaries, and upper edge of the wing brownish-black; tail white, tipped with dark brown. All other parts, including the head and entire body, white, usually in adult specimens tinged with pale yellow on the head and neck. Under wing coverts white; bill pale reddish-yellow (in prepared and dried specimen pale, dull yellow); legs pale flesh-color.
Young. Entirely sooty-brown; lighter on the inferior parts of the body; bill and feet dark; in more advanced plumage, variously spotted with white, generally most observable around the base of the bill and on the rump.
Hab. Western coast of North America. Spec. in Mus. Acad. Philada.
Of the smaller species of the Albatrosses, this is the largest and next in size to the large D. exulans, which it much resembles in general appearance. It may always, however, be readily distinguished from any other species by the characters given above. Specimens occur in which the pale yellow tinge of the head and neck is not distinguishable, but usually it is a strongly marked character.
It was by our friend, that distinguished ornithologist, Gustav Hartlaub, M. D., Director of the Museum of the city of Bremen, that our attention was first called to the fact of this bird and the Black-footed Albatross being identical, and a re-examination suggested. Not for this only are we indebted to the same gentleman, but for much advice and instruction most encouraging and valuable, and a constant assurance of good feeling, uninterrupted for years. Naturalists of all climes should work out their mission in harmony and fellowship. It is often not so,—would that all like Hartlaub cultivated and understood, as well as Science, kindness, friendship, justice.
* * * * * * *
But we are at the close of our volume. Like the traveller at the end of his day’s journey, or the husbandman when the sun has sunk behind the hills, we willingly stop for repose, not without thoughts mainly, and perhaps necessarily, retrospective, but agreeable.
Reader! our barks have glided together for a period on the great stream which carries us alike to our future destiny. Thou hast been to me as a companion most pleasant, and an encourager. We have chatted, not always, perhaps, with sufficient reverence, or possibly sometimes frivolously, of the magnificence of our pathway,—of the mountain and the forest,—even of the birds that sing in the branches. By no means without dignity of subject,—the highest dignity attaches to all created things as the realized ideas of Omnipotence.
We could wish that some passages in our book were more clearly stated; but there is little that we would erase. We aspire to no perfection, much less have we accomplished any. Imperfection is a characteristic of mankind. Man exists in this world as an intellectual being, in a rudimental condition only.
Trust not too implicitly in the delights of the wilds, nor of solitude. They are temporary, and only to be as a teacher,—we must return ever to social life as the ark of safety, bringing, we may hope, the olive-branch of peace with knowledge. For all that I have said, or that any one else has said, our greatest and truest interests are in society. There only we acquire true cultivation and elevation. Science, Literature, Art, the great civilizers, there only flourish. Betake thyself not to the wilderness, or for a period only, and never longer than forty days,—never!—if there is any help for it.
We part now,—I would that it may be lover-like, oft promising to meet again, and hoping ever,—parted already, as it were, and distant, perhaps, by the length and breadth of our native land, or by the wide waters of the Atlantic,—from my heart I waft to thee a blessing and a farewell.