ANHINGA OR SNAKE-BIRD.

Plotus Anhinga, Linn.
PLATE CCCXVI. Male and Female.

Reader, the pleasures which I have experienced in the course of this chequered life of mine have been many;—perhaps many more than would have fallen to my share, had I not, fortunately for me, become a devoted and enthusiastic lover of Nature’s beauteous and wondrous works, which, in truth, I have been from the earliest period to which my recollection extends; and those who have known me best will not for a moment consider it extravagant in me to say, that among the greatest pleasures I have known, has been that derived from pursuing and faithfully describing such of our American birds as were previously unknown or but little observed. Many sultry summer days I have passed amidst the most dismal swamps of the secluded woods of Louisiana, watching with anxiety and in silence the curious habits of the Anhinga; the female bird now sitting closely on her eggs, in a nest constructed by herself and securely placed on the widely extended branch of the tallest cypress, that, as if by magic planted, stood in the midst of an ample lake, while with keen eyes she watched every motion of the wily Buzzard and cunning Crow, lest either of these cowardly marauders might deprive her of her treasures; the partner of her cares and joys meanwhile, with outspread wings and fan-like tail, soaring on high, and glancing first anxiously towards her he loves, then in anger towards one and all of their numerous enemies. In wider and bolder circles he moves, rising higher and still higher, until at length, becoming a mere dusky speck, he almost vanishes from my sight amidst the expanse of the blue sky; but now, suddenly closing his wings, and rushing downwards like a meteor, I see him instantly alight erect upon the edge of the nest, and complacently gaze upon his beloved.

After some time, about three weeks perhaps, I have found the eggshells beneath the great cypress tree, cast out of the nest by the intelligent and attentive mother, and floating on the green slime of the stagnant pool. Climbing to the nest itself, I have seen the tender young clad in down far softer than our sea-island cottons, writhing their slender and tremulous necks, and with open mouths and extended pouches seeking, as all infants are wont to seek, the food suited to their delicate frame. Then, retiring to some concealed spot, I have seen the mother arrive with a supply of finely masticated nutriment, compounded of various fishes from the lake, and furnish each of her progeny by regurgitation with its due proportion. Thus, also, I have watched the growth of the younglings, marking their daily progress, which varied according to the changes of temperature and the state of the atmosphere. At length, after waiting many days in succession, I have seen them stand, in an almost erect posture, on a space scarcely large enough to contain them. The parents seemed aware of the condition of their brood, and, affectionate as they still appeared to be, I thought their manner towards them was altered, and I felt grieved. Indeed, sorely grieved I was when, next week, I saw them discharge, as it were, their children, and force them from the nest into the waters that were spread below. It is true that, previous to this, I had seen the young Anhingas trying the power of their wings as they stood upright on the nest, flapping them many minutes at a time; yet, although thus convinced that they were nearly in a state to provide for themselves, it was not without a feeling of despondency that I saw them hurled into the air, and alight on the water. But, Reader, Nature in all this had acted beneficially; and I afterwards found that in thus expelling their young so soon, the old birds had in view to rear another brood in the same spot, before the commencement of unfavourable weather.

Many writers have described what they have been pleased to call the habits of the Anhinga; nay, some have presumed to offer comments upon them, and to generalize and form theories thereon, or even to inform us gravely and oracularly what they ought to be, when the basis of all their fancies was merely a dried skin and feathers appended. Leaving these ornithologists for the present to amuse themselves in their snug closets, I proceed to detail the real habits of this curious bird, as I have observed and studied them in Nature.

The Snake-Bird is a constant resident in the Floridas, and the lower parts of Louisiana, Alabama, and Georgia. Few remain during winter in South Carolina, or in any district to the eastward of that State; but some proceed as far as North Carolina in spring, and breed along the coast, I have found it in Texas in the month of May, on the waters of Buffalo Bayou, and the St Jacinto River, where it breeds, and where, as I was told, it spends the winter. It rarely ascends the Mississippi beyond the neighbourhood of Natchez, from which most of the individuals return to the mouths of that great stream, and the numerous lakes, ponds, and bayous in its vicinity, where I have observed the species at all seasons, as well as in the Floridas.

Being a bird which, by its habits, rarely fails to attract the notice of the most indifferent observer, it has received various names. The Creoles of Louisiana, about New Orleans, and as far up the Mississippi as Pointe Coup, call it “Bec à Lancette,” on account of the form of its bill; whilst at the mouths of the river it bears the name of “Water Crow.” In the southern parts of Florida, it is called the “Grecian Lady,” and in South Carolina it is best known by the name of “Cormorant.” Yet in all these parts, it bears also the name of “Snake-Bird;” but it is nowhere with us called the “Black-bellied Darter,” which, by the way, could only be with strict propriety applied to the adult male.

Those which, on the one hand, ascend the Mississippi, and, on the other, visit the Carolinas, arrive at their several places of resort early in April, in some seasons even in March, and there remain until the beginning of November. Although this bird is occasionally seen in the immediate vicinity of the sea, and at times breeds not far from it, I never met with an individual fishing in salt water. It gives a decided preference to rivers, lakes, bayous, or lagoons in the interior, always however in the lowest and most level parts of the country. The more retired and secluded the spot, the more willingly does the Snake-Bird remain about it. Sometimes indeed I have suddenly come on some in such small ponds, which I discovered by mere accident, and in parts of woods so very secluded, that I was taken by surprise on seeing them. The Floridas therefore are peculiarly adapted for this species, as there the torpid waters of the streams, bayous, and lakes, are most abundantly supplied with various species of fish, reptiles, and insects, while the temperature is at all seasons congenial, and their exemption from annoyance almost unparalleled. Wherever similar situations occur in other parts of the Southern States, there the Anhingas are met with in numbers proportioned to the extent of the favourable localities. It is very seldom indeed that any are seen on rapid streams, and more especially on clear water, a single instance of such an occurrence being all that I have observed. Wherever you may chance to find this bird, you will perceive that it has not left itself without the means of escape; you will never find one in a pond or bayou completely enclosed by tall trees, so as to obstruct its passage; but will observe that it generally prefers ponds or lakes, surrounded by deep and almost impenetrable morasses, and having a few large trees growing out of the water near their centre, from the branches of which they can easily mark the approach of an enemy, and make their escape in good time. Unlike the Fish-hawk and Kings-fisher, the Anhinga however never plunges or dives from an eminence in procuring its prey, although from its habit of occasionally dropping in silence to the water from its perch, for the purpose of afterwards swimming about and diving in the manner of the Cormorant, some writers have been led to believe that it does so.

The Black-bellied Darter, all whose names I shall use, for the purpose of avoiding irksome repetitions, may be considered as indefinitely gregarious; by which I mean that you may see eight or more together at times, during winter especially, or only two, as in the breeding season. On a few occasions, whilst in the interior of the southernmost parts of Florida, I saw about thirty individuals on the same lake. While exploring the St John’s River of that country in its whole length, I sometimes saw several hundreds together. I procured a great number on that stream, on the lakes in its neighbourhood, and also on those near the plantation of Mr Bulow, on the eastern side of the Peninsula. I observed that the young Darters, as well as those of the Cormorants, Herons, and many other birds, kept apart from the old individuals, which they however joined in spring, when they had attained their full beauty of plumage.

The Anhinga is altogether a diurnal bird, and, like the Cormorant, is fond of returning to the same roosting place every evening about dusk, unless prevented by molestation. At times I have seen from three to seven alight on the dead top branches of a tall tree, for the purpose of there spending the night; and this they repeated for several weeks, until on my having killed some of them and wounded others, the rest abandoned the spot, and after several furious contests with a party that roosted about two miles off, succeeding in establishing themselves among them. At such times they seldom sit very near each other, as Cormorants do, but keep at a distance of a few feet or yards, according to the nature of the branches. Whilst asleep, they stand with the body almost erect, but never bend the tarsus so as to apply it in its whole length, as the Cormorant does; they keep their head snugly covered among their scapulars, and at times emit a wheezing sound, which I supposed to be produced by their breathing. In rainy weather they often remain roosted the greater part of the day, and on such occasions they stand erect, with their neck and head stretched upwards, remaining perfectly motionless, as if to allow the water to glide off their plumage. Now and then, however, they suddenly ruffle their feathers, violently shake themselves, and again compressing their form, resume their singular position.

Their disposition to return to the same roosting places is so decided that, when chased from their places of resort, they seldom fail to betake themselves to them during the day; and in this manner they may easily be procured with some care. Whilst at Mr Bulow’s, I was almost daily in the habit of visiting a long, tortuous, bayou, many miles in extent, which at that season (winter) was abundantly supplied with Anhingas. There the Otter, the Alligator, and many species of birds, found an ample supply of food; and as I was constantly watching them, I soon discovered a roosting place of the Snake-Birds, which was a large dead tree. I found it impossible to get near them either by cautiously advancing in the boat, or by creeping among the briars, canes, and tangled palmettoes which profusely covered the banks. I therefore paddled directly to the place, accompanied by my faithful and sagacious Newfoundland dog. At my approach the birds flew off towards the upper parts of the stream, and as I knew that they might remain for hours, I had a boat sent after them with orders to the Negroes to start all that they could see. Dragging up my little bark, I then hid myself among the tangled plants, and, with my eyes bent on the dead tree, and my gun in readiness, I remained until I saw the beautiful bird alight and gaze around to see if all was right. Alas! it was not aware of its danger, but, after a few moments, during which I noted its curious motions, it fell dead into the water, while the reverberations consequent on the discharge of my gun alarmed the birds around, and by looking either up or down the bayou I could see many Anhingas speeding away to other parts. My dog, as obedient as the most submissive of servants, never stirred until ordered, when he would walk cautiously into the water, swim up to the dead bird, and having brought it to me, lie down gently in his place. In this manner, in the course of one day I procured fourteen of these birds, and wounded several others. I may here at once tell you that all the roosting places of the Anhinga which I have seen were over the water, either on the shore or in the midst of some stagnant pool; and this situation they seem to select because there they can enjoy the first gladdening rays of the morning sun, or bask in the blaze of its noontide splendour, and also observe with greater ease the approach of their enemies, as they betake themselves to it after feeding, and remain there until hunger urges them to fly off. There, trusting to the extraordinary keenness of their beautiful bright eyes in spying the marauding sons of the forest, or the not less dangerous enthusiast, who, probably like yourself, would venture through mud and slime up to his very neck, to get within rifle shot of a bird so remarkable in form and manners, the Anhingas, or “Grecian Ladies,” stand erect, with their wings and tail fully or partially spread out in the sunshine, whilst their long slender necks and heads are thrown as it were in every direction by the most curious and sudden jerks and bendings. Their bills are open, and you see that the intense heat of the atmosphere induces them to suffer their gular pouch to hang loosely. What delightful sights and scenes these have been to me, good Reader! With what anxiety have I waded toward these birds, to watch their movements, while at the same time I cooled my over-heated body, and left behind on the shores myriads of hungry sand-flies, gnats, mosquitoes, and ticks, that had annoyed me for hours! And oh! how great has been my pleasure when, after several failures, I have at last picked up the spotted bird, examined it with care, and then returned to the gloomy shore, to note my observations! Great too is my pleasure in now relating to you the results of my long personal experience, together with that of my excellent friend Dr Bachman, who has transmitted his observations on this bird to me.

Wilson, I am inclined to think, never saw a live Anhinga; and the notes, furnished by Mr Abbot of Georgia, which he has published, are very far from being correct. In the supplementary volumes of American Ornithology published in Philadelphia, the Editor, who visited the Floridas; added nothing of importance beyond giving more accurate measurements of a single specimen than Wilson had given from the stuffed skins from which he made his figures, and which were in the museum of that city.

The peculiar form, long wings, and large fan-like tail of the Anhinga, would at once induce a person looking upon it to conclude that it was intended by nature rather for protracted and powerful flight, than for spending as it does more than half of its time by day in the water, where its progress, one might suppose, would be greatly impeded by the amplitude of these parts. Yet how different from such a supposition is the fact? The Anhinga in truth is the very first of all fresh-water divers. With the quickness of thought it disappears beneath the surface, and that so as scarcely to leave a ripple on the spot; and when your anxious eyes seek around for the bird, you are astonished to find it many hundred yards distant, the head perhaps merely above water for a moment; or you may chance to perceive the bill alone gently cutting the water, and producing a line of wake not observable beyond the distance of thirty yards from where you are standing. With habits like these it easily eludes all your efforts to procure it. When shot at while perched, however severely wounded they may be, they fall at once perpendicularly, the bill downward, the wings and tail closed, and then dive and make their way under water to such a distance that they are rarely obtained. Should you, however, see them again, and set out in pursuit, they dive along the shores, attach themselves to roots of trees or plants by the feet, and so remain until life is extinct. When shot dead on the trees, they sometimes cling so firmly to the branches that you must wait some minutes before they fall.

The generally received opinion or belief that the Anhinga always swims with its body sunk beneath the surface is quite incorrect; for it does so only when in sight of an enemy, and when under no apprehension of danger it is as buoyant as any other diving bird, such as a Cormorant, a Merganser, a Grebe, or a Diver. This erroneous opinion has, however, been adopted simply because few persons have watched the bird with sufficient care. When it first observes an enemy, it immediately sinks its body deeper, in the manner of the birds just mentioned, and the nearer the danger approaches, the more does it sink, until at last it swims off with the head and neck only above the surface, when these parts, from their form and peculiar sinuous motion, somewhat resemble the head and part of the body of a snake. It is in fact from this circumstance that the Anhinga has received the name of Snake-Bird. At such a time, it is seen constantly turning its head from side to side, often opening its bill as if for the purpose of inhaling a larger quantity of air, to enable it the better to dive, and remain under water so long that when it next makes its appearance it is out of your reach. When fishing in a state of security it dives precisely like a Cormorant, returns to the surface as soon as it has procured a fish or other article of food, shakes it, if it is not too large often throws it up into the air, and receiving it conveniently in the bill, swallows it at once, and recommences its search. But I doubt much if it ever seizes on any thing that it cannot thus swallow whole. They have the curious habit of diving under any floating substances, such as parcels of dead weeds or leaves of trees which have accidentally been accumulated by the winds or currents, or even the green slimy substances produced by putrefaction. This habit is continued by the species when in a perfect state of domestication, for I have seen one kept by my friend John Bachman thus diving when within a few feet of a quantity of floating rice-chaff, in one of the tide-ponds in the neighbourhood of Charleston. Like the Common Goose, it invariably depresses its head while swimming under a low bridge, or a branch or trunk of a tree hanging over the water. When it swims beneath the surface of the water, it spreads its wings partially, but does not employ them as a means of propulsion, and keeps its tail always considerably expanded, using the feet as paddles either simultaneously, or alternately.

The quantity of fish consumed by this bird is astonishing; and what I am about to relate on this subject will appear equally so. One morning Dr Bachman and I gave to an Anhinga a Black Fish, measuring nine and a half inches, by two inches in diameter; and although the head of the fish was considerably larger than its body, and its strong and spinous fins appeared formidable, the bird, which was then about seven months old, swallowed it entire, head foremost. It was in appearance digested in an hour and a half, when the bird swallowed three others of somewhat smaller size. At another time, we placed before it a number of fishes about seven and a half inches long, of which it swallowed nine in succession. It would devour at a meal forty or more fishes about three inches and a half long. On several occasions it was fed on Plaice, when it swallowed some that were four inches broad, extending its throat, and compressing them during their descent into the stomach. It did not appear to relish eels, as it eat all the other sorts first, and kept them to the last; and after having swallowed them, it had great difficulty in keeping them down, but, although for a while thwarted, it would renew its efforts, and at length master them. When taken to the tide-pond at the foot of my friend’s garden, it would now and then after diving return to the surface of the water with a cray-fish in its mouth, which it pressed hard and dashed about in its bill, evidently for the purpose of maiming it, before it would attempt to swallow it, and it never caught a fish without bringing it up to subject it to the same operation.

While residing near Bayou Sara, in the State of Mississippi, I was in the habit of occasionally visiting some acquaintances residing at Pointe Coup, nearly opposite the mouth of the bayou. One day, on entering the house of an humble settler close on the western bank of the Mississippi, I observed two young Anhingas that had been taken out of a nest containing four, which had been built on a high cypress in a lake on the eastern side of the river. They were perfectly tame and gentle, and much attached to their foster-parents, the man and woman of the house, whom they followed wherever they went. They fed with equal willingness on shrimps and fish, and when neither could be had, contented themselves with boiled Indian corn, of which they caught with great ease the grains as they were thrown one by one to them. I was afterwards informed, that when a year old, they were allowed to go to the river and fish for themselves, or to the ponds on either side, and that they regularly returned towards night for the purpose of roosting on the top of the house. Both birds were males, and in time they fought hard battles, but at last each met with a female, which it enticed to the roost on the house-top, where all the four slept at night for a while. Soon after, the females having probably laid their eggs in the woods, they all disappeared, and were never again seen by the persons who related this curious affair.

The Anhinga is shy and wary when residing in a densely peopled part of the country, which, however, is rarely the case, as I have already mentioned; but when in its favourite secluded and peaceful haunts, where it has seldom or never been molested, it is easily approached and without difficulty procured; nay, sometimes one will remain standing in the same spot and in the same posture, until you have fired several bullets from your rifle at it. Its mode of fishing is not to plunge from a tree or stump in pursuit of its prey, but to dive while swimming in the manner of Cormorants and many other birds. Indeed, it could very seldom see a fish from above the surface of the turbid waters which it prefers.

It moves along the branches of trees rather awkwardly; but still it walks there, with the aid of its wings, which it extends for that purpose, and not unfrequently also using its bill in the manner of a Parrot. On the land, it walks and even runs with considerable ease, certainly with more expertness than the Cormorant, though much in the same style. But it does not employ its tail to aid it, for, on the contrary, it carries that organ inclined upwards, and during its progress from one place to another, the movements of its head and neck are continued. These movements, which, as I have said, resemble sudden jerkings of the parts to their full extent, become extremely graceful during the love season, when they are reduced to gentle curvatures. I must not forget to say, that during all these movements, the gular pouch is distended, and the bird emits rough guttural sounds. If they are courting on wing, however, in the manner of Cormorants, Hawks, and many other birds, they emit a whistling note, somewhat resembling that of some of our rapacious birds, and which may be expressed by the syllables eek, eek, eek, the first loudest, and the rest diminishing in strength. When they are on the water, their call-notes so much resemble the rough grunting cries the Florida Cormorant, that I have often mistaken them for the latter.

The flight of the Anhinga is swift, and at times well sustained; but like the Cormorants, it has the habit of spreading its wings and tail before it leaves its perch or the surface of the water, thus frequently affording the sportsman a good opportunity of shooting it. When once on wing, they can rise to a vast height, in beautiful gyrations, varied during the love-season by zigzag lines chiefly performed by the male, as he plays around his beloved. At times they quite disappear from the gaze, lost as it were, in the upper regions of the air; and at other times, when much lower, seem to remain suspended in the same spot for several seconds. All this while, and indeed as long as they are flying, their wings are directly extended, their neck stretched to its full length, their tail more or less spread according to the movements to be performed, being closed when they descend, expanded and declined to either side when they mount. During their migratory expeditions, they beat their wings at times in the manner of the Cormorant, and at other times sail like the Turkey Buzzard and some Hawks, the former mode being more frequently observed when they are passing over an extent of woodland, the latter when over a sheet of water. If disturbed or alarmed, they fly with continuous beats of the wings, and proceed with great velocity. As they find difficulty in leaving their perch without previously expanding their wings, they are also, when about to alight, obliged to use them in supporting their body, until their feet have taken a sufficient hold of the branch on which they desire to settle. In this respect, they exactly resemble the Florida Cormorant.

There are facts connected with the habits of birds which might afford a pretty good idea of the relative temperatures of different parts of the country during a given season; and those observed with regard to the Anhinga seem to me peculiarly illustrative of this circumstance. I have found the “Grecian Lady” breeding on St John’s River in East Florida, near Lake George, as early as the 23d of February; having previously seen many of them caressing each other on the waters, and again carrying sticks, fresh twigs, and other matters, to form their nests, and having also shot females with the eggs largely developed. Now, at the same period, perhaps not a single Anhinga is to be seen in the neighbourhood of Natchez, only a few about New Orleans, in the eastern parts of Georgia, and the middle maritime portions of South Carolina. In Louisiana this bird breeds in April or May, and in South Carolina rarely before June, my friend Bachman having found eggs, and young just hatched, as late as the 28th of that month. In North Carolina, where only a few pairs breed, it is later by a fortnight.

I have already expressed my opinion that birds which thus breed so much earlier in one section of the country than in another, especially when at great distances, may, after producing one or even two broods, in the same year, still have time enough to proceed toward higher latitudes for the purpose of again breeding. Actual observations have moreover satisfied me that individuals of the same species produced in warm latitudes have a stronger disposition toward reproduction than those of more northern climates. This being the case, and most birds endowed with the power of migrating, having a tendency to exercise it, may we not suppose that the pair of Anhingas which bred on the St John’s in February, might be inclined to breed again either in South Carolina or in the neighbourhood of Natchez, several months after. But, as yet, I have not been able to adduce positive proof of the accuracy of this opinion.

The nest of the Snake-bird is variously placed in different localities; sometimes in low bushes, and even on the common smilax, not more than eight or ten feet above the water, if the place be secluded, or on the lower or top branches of the highest trees, but always over the water. In Louisiana and the State of Mississippi, where I have seen a goodly number of nests, they were generally placed on very large and tall cypresses, growing out of the central parts of lakes and ponds, or overhanging the borders of lagoons, bayous, or rivers, distant from inhabited places. They are frequently placed singly, but at times amidst hundreds or even thousands of nests of several species of Herons, especially Ardea alba and A. Herodias, the Great White and Great Blue Herons. As however in all cases the form, size, and component materials are nearly the same, I will here describe a nest procured for the purpose by my friend Bachman.

It measured fully two feet in diameter, and was of a flattened form, much resembling that of the Florida Cormorant. The first or bottom layer was made of dry sticks of different sizes, some nearly half an inch in diameter, laid crosswise, but in a circular manner. Green branches with leaves on them, of the common myrtle, Myrica cerifera, a quantity of Spanish moss, and some slender roots, formed the upper and inside layer, which was as solid and compact as that of any nest of the Heron tribe. This nest contained four eggs; another examined on the same day had four young birds; a third only three; and in no instance has a nest of the Anhinga been found with either eight eggs, or “two eggs and six young ones,” as mentioned by Mr Abbott, of Georgia, in his notes transmitted to Wilson. Mr Abbott is however correct in saying that this species “will occupy the same tree for a series of years,” and I have myself known a pair to breed in the same nest three seasons, augmenting and repairing it every succeeding spring, as Cormorants and Herons are wont to do. The eggs average two inches and five-eighths in length, by one and a quarter in diameter, and are of an elongated oval form, of a dull uniform whitish colour externally, being covered with a chalky substance, beneath which the shell, on being carefully scraped, is of a light blue, precisely resembling in this respect the eggs of the different species of American Cormorants with which I am acquainted.

The young when about a fortnight old are clad with a uniform buff-coloured down; their bill is black, their feet yellowish-white, their head and neck nearly naked; and now they resemble young Cormorants, though of a different colour. The wing feathers make their appearance through the down, and are dark brown. The birds in the same nest differ as much in size as those of Cormorants, the largest being almost twice the size of the smallest. At this age they are in the habit of raising themselves by placing their bills on the upper part of the nest, or over a branch if convenient, and drawing themselves up by their jaws, which on such occasions they open very widely. This habit is continued by young birds whilst in confinement, and was also observed in the Cormorant, Phalacrocorax Carbo, the young of which assisted themselves with their bills while crawling about on the deck of the Ripley. The action is indeed performed by the Anhinga at all periods of its life. At an early age the young utter a low wheezing call, and at times some cries resembling those of the young of the smaller species of Herons. From birth they are fed by regurgitation, which one might suppose an irksome task to the parent birds, as during the act they open their wings and raise their tails. I have not been able to ascertain the period of incubation, but am sure that the male and the female sit alternately, the latter however remaining much longer on the nest. Young Anhingas when approached while in the nest cling tenaciously to it, until seized, and if thrown down, they merely float on the water, and are easily captured. On the contrary, the young Florida Cormorants throw themselves into the water, and dive at once.

When they are three weeks old, the quills and tail-feathers grow rapidly, but continue of the same dark-brown colour, and so remain until they are able to fly, when they leave the nest, although they still present a singular motley appearance, the breast and back being buff-coloured, while the wings and tail are nearly black. After the feathers of the wings and tail are nearly fully developed, those of the sides of the body and breast become visible through the down, and the bird appears more curiously mottled than before. The young male now assumes the colour of the adult female, which it retains until the beginning of October, when the breast becomes streaked with dusky; white spots shew themselves on the back, the black of which becomes more intense, and the crimpings on the two middle feathers of the tail, which have been more or less apparent from the first, are now perfect. By the middle of February, the male is in full plumage, but the eyes have not yet acquired their full colour, being only of a dull reddish-orange. In this respect also two differences are observed between the Anhinga and the Cormorants. The first is the rapid progress of the Anhinga towards maturity of plumage, the other the retaining of its complete dress through the whole of its life, no change taking place in its colours at each successive moult. The Cormorants, on the contrary, take three or four years to attain their full dress of the love season, which lasts only during that period of excitement. The progress of the plumage in the female Anhinga is as rapid as in the male, and the tints also remain unaltered through each successive moult.

Like all other carnivorous and piscivorous birds, the Anhinga can remain days and nights without food, apparently without being much incommoded. When overtaken on being wounded, and especially if brought to the ground, it seems to regard its enemies without fear. On several occasions of this kind, I have seen it watch my approach, or that of my dog, standing as erect as it could under the pain of its wounds, with its head drawn back, its bill open, and its throat swelled with anger until, when at a sure distance, it would dart its head forward and give a severe wound. One which had thus struck at my dog’s nose, hung to it until dragged to my feet over a space of thirty paces. When seized by the neck, they scratch severely with their sharp claws, and beat their wings about you with much more vigour than you would suppose they could possess. Having witnessed the singular means employed by this bird in making its escape on sudden emergencies, I will here relate an instance, which evinces a kind of reason. Whilst ascending the St John’s river in East Florida, along with Captain Piercy of the U. S. Navy, our boat was rowed into a circular basin of clear shallow water, having a sandy bottom; such places being found occasionally in that country, produced by the flowing of springs from the more elevated sandy parts into the muddy rivers and lakes. We entered the cove by passing between the branches of low trees, overhung by others of great height. The first object that attracted my attention was a female Anhinga perched on the opposite side of the cove, and, as I did not wish that it should be shot, we merely advanced towards it, when it began to throw its head about, and watch our motions. The place was small, and the enclosing trees high. Though it might have flown upwards and escaped, it remained perched, but evidently perturbed and apprehensive of danger. When the boat was at a short distance, however, it suddenly threw itself backward, cutting a somerset as it were, and, covered by the branches, darted straight through the tangled forest, and was soon out of sight. Never before nor since have I seen or heard of Anhingas flying through the woods.

For the following description of the Snake-bird’s breeding grounds, a few miles distant from Charleston in South Carolina, I am indebted to my friend John Bachman:—“On the 28th of June 1837, accompanied by Dr Wilson, Dr Drayton, and William Ramsay, Esq., I went to Chisholm Pond, about seven miles from the city, for the purpose of seeing the Anhingas while breeding. The day was fine, and in about an hour our horses brought us to the margin of the swamp. We soon discovered a bird flying over us, and making for the upper part of the pond toward a retired place, rendered almost inaccessible in consequence of its being a morass overgrown with vines and rushes. As there was no other way of examining their locality but by water, we hauled ashore a small leaky canoe which we found in the pond, caulked it in the best manner we could, so as to render it not unsafe, although after all we could do to it, we found it still very leaky. It proved uncomfortable enough, and could hold only two persons. So it was agreed that I should proceed in it, accompanied by a servant, who understood well how to paddle it.

“The pond is artificial, and such as in this country is called a “Reserve.” It is situated at the upper part of rice fields, and is intended to preserve water sufficient, when needed, to irrigate and overflow the rice. It is studded with small islands, covered by a thick growth of a small species of Laurel (Laurus geniculata) and the Black Willow (Salix nigra), all entangled by various species of Smilax and other plants. These were at the time covered with Herons’ nests of several kinds. Farther on the Night Herons also had formed a city. As I proceeded onwards in my search I found the difficulties increasing. The water became shallow, the mire deeper and softer, and the boat required the best of management to be propelled along, for now it was retarded by rushes and vines. Enormous live oaks and cypress trees reared their majestic branches towards the pure sky above, covered as they were with dangling masses of Spanish moss, reaching to the very surface of the water, and turning day into night. Alligators of great size wallowed in the mire, or were heard to plunge into it, from the many logs which ever and anon intercepted my progress, while terrapins, snakes, and other reptiles swarmed around. My situation was thus not altogether so very pleasant, and the less so as it was necessary for me to destroy as many musquitoes as possible, and guard against being upset in such a truly “dismal swamp.” We moved extremely slowly, yet advanced, and at last, having reached an open space where the trees were of small size and height, I espied the nest of the Anhinga before me! The female was sitting on it, but on our coming nearer she raised herself by her bill to a branch about one foot above, and there stood with outstretched neck, like a statue. It was cruel thus to disturb her in her own peaceful solitude; but naturalists, alas! seldom consider this long, when the object of their pursuit is in their view and almost within their grasp. Being now within twenty yards of the innocent and interesting creature, I pointed my short rifle towards her, and immediately fired; but the unsteadiness of the canoe, and perhaps that of a hand not accustomed to this weapon, saved her life. She remained in her statue-like posture, the rifle was reloaded, and thrice fired, without touching her; but at last a bullet having cut through the branch on which she stood, she spread her dark pinions, and launching into the air, was soon beyond the reach of my eyes, and I trust of further danger.”

The same kind friend having procured eggs and young of this interesting bird, I will present you with his observations respecting them. He writes thus:—“I brought home three young Snake-birds, two of which I immediately undertook to raise and domesticate, entrusting the third to the care of one of our mutual friends. I found no difficulty in rearing one of them. The other, by neglect of my servant, died a few weeks afterwards, during a short personal absence. Whilst these two birds were yet in the same cage, it was curious indeed to see the smaller one when hungry incessantly trying to force its bill into the mouth and throat of the other, which, after being thus teased for a short time, would open its mouth to suffer the little one to thrust its whole head down the throat of its brother, from which it would receive the fish that the latter had previously swallowed. In this singular manner did the larger bird, which after awhile proved to be a male, continue to act as if the foster-parent of his little sister, which indeed seemed to be thrown upon his protection. The one still in my possession is fed on fish, which it picks up, tosses a few times in the air, and swallows at the first convenient opportunity, that is when the fish falls towards its mouth head foremost. At the onset, when the fish was large, I had it cut into pieces, thinking that the apparent slenderness of the bird’s neck could not expand enough to swallow it whole; but I soon ascertained that this was unnecessary. Fish three times the size of the neck were tossed in the expanded jaws and gobbled at once, and immediately after, the bird would come to my feet, clicking its bill in such an unequivocal manner that I never failed to give it more. My pet was tame from the beginning of its captivity, and followed me about the house, the yard, and garden, until I thought it quite troublesome in consequence of its peculiar attachment to me. The one given to our friend was fed on fish and raw beef; but although it grew to its full size, never seemed to thrive as well as the one I had, and finally died of an affection causing spasms. This was a female, and although less bright in colour than the adult of the same sex, the two middle feathers of her tail were partially crimped, and her markings were the same. While in the young state I frequently carried it to a pond, believing that it would relish the water, and would improve in health; but I invariably found it to scramble towards the shore as soon as possible, as if dreading the element in which it was by nature destined to live. When thrown into the pond, it usually dived at once, but the next instant arose to the surface, and swam with all the buoyancy of a common duck. It is a fearless bird, keeping at bay the hens and turkeys in the yard, and never sparing any dog that chances to pass by it, dealing blows right and left with its sharp bill, and occasionally placing itself at the trough where they are fed, to prevent them from taking a morsel of food till he has tantalized them sufficiently, when he leaves them to share whatever he does not himself relish.

“It was not until my bird was fully fledged that I found it willing or anxious to go to the water, and then, whenever it saw me go toward the pond, it accompanied me as far as the gate of the garden, seeming to say “Pray let me go.” On my opening this gate, it at once followed me waddling along like a duck, and no sooner was it in sight of its favourite element than it immediately let itself in, not with a plunge or a dive, but by dropping from a plank into the stream, where for a while it would swim like a duck, then, dipping its long neck, it would dive for the purpose of procuring fish. The water was clear enough to enable me to see all its movements, and after many various windings it would emerge at the distance of forty or fifty yards. This bird sleeps in the open air during warm nights, perched on the highest bar of the fence, with its head under its wings, placed there from above its back, and in rainy weather it often sits in the same position for nearly the whole day. It appears to be very susceptible of cold, retreating to the kitchen and near the fire, battling with the dogs or the cooks for the most comfortable place on the hearth. Whenever the sun shines, it spreads its wings and tail, rustles its feathers, and seems delighted with our warmest sunny days. When walking and occasionally hopping, it does not support itself by the tail, as Cormorants sometimes do. When fishes are presented to it, it seizes and swallows them greedily; but when these cannot be procured, we are forced to feed it on meat, when it opens its mouth, and receives the food placed in it. Occasionally it has spent several days without any food; but in those cases the bird became very troublesome, harassing all around by its incessant croakings, and giving blows to the servants, as if to remind them of their neglect.

“Once it made its escape, and flew off about a quarter of a mile into the pond. Some boys happening to be there in a canoe, the bird approached them with open mouth, for it was hungry and wanted food. They seeing such a strange creature pursuing them with a head somewhat like that of a snake, took alarm and paddled for the shore; but my bird followed in their wake, and landed as soon as they did. They now fled to the house, where the Anhinga also arrived, and was recognised by some members of the family, who sent it back to me; and I, to prevent its farther escape or loss, clipped one of its wings.”

I saw the bird above mentioned at my friend’s house at Charleston in the winter of 1836, when on my way to the Gulf of Mexico, and had many opportunities of watching its habits. It was killed by a beautiful retriever presented to me by the Earl of Derby, and its death occasioned sorrow both to my friend and myself, as he had given it to me for the purpose of being sent to that nobleman.

Ever since I have been acquainted with the Anhinga, I have thought that in form and habits it is intimately connected with the Cormorants, and was induced to compare their manners. In some respects I found them similar, in others different; but when I discovered that all these birds possess a remarkable peculiarity in the structure of their feathers, I thought that their generic affinity could not be denied. The Anhinga has its body and neck covered with what I would call fibrous feathers, having a very slender shaft; while its quills and tail-feathers are compact, that is, perfect in structure, strong, and elastic. Now the shafts of all these latter feathers are tubular from their bases to their very extremities, which, in so far as I know, is not the case in any other bird, excepting the Cormorants. They are all very elastic, like those in the tails of our largest Woodpeckers, the shafts of which, however, are filled with a spongy pith, as in all other land-birds, and in all the aquatic species which I have examined, including Divers and Grebes, as well as Plungers, such as Gannets, Kings-fishers, and Fishing Hawks. The quills and tail-feathers of the Cormorants and Anhinga, in short, have the barrel as in other birds, but the shaft hollow, even to the tip, its walls being transparent, and of the same nature as the barrel.

Wilson, who, it is acknowledged, made his figures from stuffed specimens in the Philadelphia Museum, had no positive proof that the bird which he took for a female was one, for he had not seen the Anhinga alive or recently killed. Even his continuator, Mr Ord, procured only males during his visit to the Floridas. But the female which I have represented was proved to be of that sex by dissection, and was examined by myself nineteen years ago near Bayou Sara. Since that time I have had numerous opportunities of satisfying myself as to this point, by examining birds in various stages.

The substances which I have found in many individuals of this species were fishes of various kinds, aquatic insects, crays, leeches, shrimps, tadpoles, eggs of frogs, water-lizards, young alligators, water-snakes, and small terrapins. I never observed any sand or gravel in the stomach. On some occasions I found it distended to the utmost, and, as I have already stated, the bird has great powers of digestion. Its excrements are voided in a liquid state, and squirted to a considerable distance, as in Cormorants, Hawks, and all birds of prey.

The flesh of the Anhinga, after the bird is grown, is dark, firm, oily, and unfit for food, with the exception of the smaller pectoral muscles of the female, which are white and delicate. The crimpings of the two middle tail-feathers become more deeply marked during the breeding season, especially in the male. When young, the female shews them only in a slight degree, and never has them so decided as the male.

Plotus Anhinga, Linn. Syst. Nat., vol. i. p. 218.—Lath. Ind. Ornith., vol. ii. p. 895.—Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of the United States, p. 411.

Plotus melanogaster, Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 895.

Black-bellied Darter, Plotus melanogaster, Wils. Amer. Ornith., vol. ix. p. 75. pl. 74, fig. 1. adult, and p. 82. pl. 74, fig. 2. young.

Black-bellied Darter, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 507.

Adult male. Plate CCCXVI. Fig. 1.

Bill about twice the length of the head, almost straight, being very slightly recurved, rather slender, compressed, tapering to a fine point. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline slightly declinate, and almost straight, being however somewhat convex, the ridge convex, gradually narrowed, the sides sloping, the edges sharp, and beyond the middle cut into minute slender-pointed serratures, which are directed backwards; the tips very slender. Lower mandible with the angle very long and narrow, the dorsal line beyond it straight and ascending, the sides sloping slightly outwards, the edges sharp and serrated like those of the upper, the point extremely narrow; the gape line slightly ascending towards the end. No external nostrils.

Head very small, oblong. Neck very long and slender. Body elongated and slender. Feet very short and stout. Tibia feathered to the joint. Tarsus very short, roundish, reticulated all over, the scales on the hind part extremely small. Toes all connected by webs; the first of moderate length, the second much longer, the fourth longest and slightly margined externally; the first toe and the first phalanges of the rest, covered above with transverse series of scales, the rest of their extent scutellate. Claws rather large, very strong, compressed, curved, very acute; the outer smallest, the third longest, with a deep groove on the inner side, and a narrow thin edge, cut with parallel slits; those of the first and second toes nearly equal.

There is a bare space at the base of the upper mandible, including the eye; the skin of the throat is bare and dilated, like that of the Cormorants. The plumage of the head, neck, and body, is close, blended, and of a silky texture; the feathers oblong, rounded, with the filament disunited toward the end. On each side of the neck, from near the eye to half its length, is a series of elongated narrow loose feathers, a few of which are also dispersed over the back of the neck, and which in the breeding season are an inch and a quarter in length. The scapulars, which are very numerous, are elongated, lanceolate, tapering to a point, compact, stiffish, elastic, highly glossed, gradually increasing in size backwards, the outer web of the largest, crimped. Wings of moderate length and breadth; primaries strong, firm, considerably curved, the third longest, the second almost as long, the first a little shorter than the fourth; the second, third, and fourth cut out on the outer web. Secondaries a little decurved, broad, rounded and acuminate; the inner elongated, straightish, acuminate, and resembling the posterior scapulars. Tail very long, narrow, of twelve straight feathers having strong shafts, and increasing in breadth from the base to the end, which is rounded and very broad, the two middle feathers have their outer webs curiously marked with transverse alternate ridges and depressions.

Upper mandible dusky olive, the edges yellow; lower mandible bright yellow, the edges and tips greenish; bare space about the eye bluish-green; gular sac bright orange. Iris bright carmine. Tarsi and toes anteriorly dusky olive, the hind parts and webs yellow; claws brownish-black. The general colour of the head, neck, and body, is glossy blackish-green; of the scapulars, wings, and tail, glossy bluish-black. The long loose feathers on the neck are purplish-white or pale lilac. The lower part of the neck behind is marked with very numerous minute oblong spots of white; which form two broad bands extending backwards, and gradually becoming more elongated, there being one along the centre of each feather including the scapulars. The smaller wing-coverts are similarly marked with broader white spots disposed in regular rows; the four last of which have merely a central line towards the tip, while the inner has a broad band extending from near the base over the outer half of the inner web, and towards the end including a portion of the outer web; the first row of small coverts, and the secondary coverts are white excepting the portion of the inner web. The five inner elongated secondaries are marked with a narrow white band, occupying the inner half of the outer web, from about an inch from their base to the extremity, near which it includes a part of the inner web. The tail-feathers tipped with a band of brownish-red, fading into white.

Length to end of tail 35 3/4 inches, to end of wings 30 1/4, to end of claws 28 1/2, to carpus 17 1/2; extent of wings 44; wing from flexure 14; tail 11 1/2; bill along the ridge 3 1/4, along the edge of lower mandible 3 10/12; tarsus 1 4/12; hind toe 11/12, its claw 6/12; second toe 1 9/12, its claw 5 1/2/12; third toe 2 5/12, its claw 8/12; fourth toe 2 4 1/2/12, its claw 5 3/4/12. Weight 3 1/4 lb.

Adult Female. Plate CCCXVI. Fig. 2. The female has the plumage similar in texture to that of the male, but only a few inconspicuous elongated feathers on the neck. The bill is lighter than in the male, the naked part around the eye darker, the eye and gular sac as in the male; as are the feet. The upper part of the head and the hind neck are dull greenish-brown, lighter at the lower part, the fore part of the neck is pale reddish-brown, tinged with grey, lighter on the throat; this colour extends over part of the breast, an inch and a half beyond the carpal joint, and terminates abruptly in a transverse band of deep reddish-chestnut; the rest of the lower parts as in the male, as are the upper, only the fore part of the back is tinged with brown, and its spots less distinct.

Length to end of tail 34 inches, to end of wings 29 1/4, to end of claws 27 1/2; to carpal joint 16 1/4; extent of wings 43. Weight 2 lb. 15 oz.

In external appearance and habits, the Snake-bird is very nearly allied to the Cormorants. The structure of the feet is essentially the same in both genera, as is that of the wings and tail, the latter however being more elongated in the Anhinga, in correspondence with the neck. If one might suppose a small Cormorant elongated and attenuated, with the feet rather enlarged but shortened, the head diminished in size, and the bill formed more on the model of that of a Heron, being destitute of the distinct ridge and curved unguis, he would form a pretty correct notion of this bird. Not only is the bill like that of a Heron, but the vertebræ of the neck are very similar to those of that family, and form the same abrupt curvatures between the seventh and eighth vertebræ. But all the other bones are those of the Cormorants and Pelicans. The sternum in particular is almost precisely similar to that of the Crested Cormorant, so that without entering very minutely into its description, no differences could be pointed out.

Both mandibles are concave within; the palate flat, with two longitudinal ridges; the posterior aperture of the nares linear and 9 twelfths long, the anterior or external aperture entirely obliterated. The lower mandible has a distinct oblique joint at about a third of its length, enabling it to be expanded to the extent of an inch and a half. The pouch, which is small, is constructed in the same manner as that of the Pelicans and Cormorants; its muscular fibres running from the lower edge of the mandible downwards and backwards, and a slender muscle passing from the anterior part of the hyoid bone to the junction of the crura of the mandible. The tongue is reduced to a mere oblong knob, 1 1/2 twelfth long, and 1/2 twelfth in height. The aperture of the glottis is 3 twelfths long, with two roundish thin edged flaps behind, destitute of papillæ. There is a small bone appended to the occipital ridge, 1/4 inch in length, as in the Cormorants.

The œsophagus a b, is 17 inches long, exceedingly delicate and dilatable, with external longitudinal fibres, the transverse fibres becoming stronger towards the lower parts. Its diameter when moderately dilated is 1 3/4 inch at the top, 1 inch farther down, at its entrance into the thorax, 9 twelfths, and finally 1 1/2 inch; but it may be dilated to a much greater extent. The proventricular glands, instead of forming a belt at the lower part of the œsophagus, are placed on the right side in the form of a globular sac, about an inch in diameter, communicating with the œsophagus, b, and stomach, d. For two inches of the lower part of the œsophagus, b, or at that part usually occupied by the proventriculus, the transverse muscular fibres are enlarged, and form an abrupt margin beneath; on the inner surface there are four irregular series of large apertures of gastric glandules or crypts. The proventriculus itself, c, is composed of large crypts of irregular form, with very wide apertures, and covered externally with muscular fibres. The stomach, d d, is roundish, about an inch and three quarters in diameter, with two roundish tendinous spaces, e, and fasciculi of muscular fibres; its inner coat thin, soft, and smooth. It opens by an aperture a quarter of an inch in diameter into a small sac, f, precisely similar to that of the Pelican, which has a muscular coat, with a soft even internal membrane, like that of the stomach. The pylorus has a diameter of 2 twelfths, is closed by a semilunar valve or flap, and is surrounded by a disk of radiating rugæ three-fourths of an inch in diameter. The intestine, g h, is 3 feet 4 inches long, its average diameter 2 1/4 twelfths, but only 1 twelfth at its junction with the rectum, which is 3 1/2 inches long, 3 twelfths in diameter. The cloaca globular, 1 1/2 inch in diameter. There are no cœca properly so called, but a small rounded termination of the rectum 2 twelfths in length as in the Herons.

The subcutaneous cellular tissue is largely developed, and the longitudinal cells on the neck are extremely large, as in Gannets and Herons. The olfactory nerve is of moderate size, and the nasal cavity is a simple compressed sac 4 twelfths in its greatest diameter. The external nares are closed, and there are no supraorbital glands. The external aperture at the ear is circular, and not more than half a twelfth in diameter.

The trachea is 13 1/2 inches long, much flattened, narrow at the upper extremity, where it is 2 1/2 twelfths in breadth, enlarging gradually to 4 1/2 twelfths, and toward the lower larynx contracting to 2 1/2 twelfths. The rings are very slender, unossified, and feeble; their number 230; the bronchial half-rings 25. The contractor muscles moderate; sterno-tracheales; and a pair of inferior muscles going to the last ring.

In a young bird scarcely two days old, and measuring only 3 3/4 inches in length, the two most remarkable circumstances observed refer to the nostrils and stomach. The posterior or palatal aperture of the nares is of the same form, and proportional size, as in the adult; the nasal cavity is similar; but there is an external nasal aperture, or nostril, on each side, so small as merely to admit the mystachial bristle of a Common Squirrel. The stomach is of enormous size, occupying three-fourths of the cavity of the thorax and abdomen, being 10 twelfths of an inch long, and of an oval shape. The proventriculus is separated from the stomach and formed into a roundish lobe, as in the old bird; and beside it is the lobe or pouch appended to the stomach, and from which the duodenum comes off. Even at this very early age, the stomach was turgid with a pultaceous mass apparently composed of macerated fish, without any bones or other hard substances intermixed.

Here then we have an instance of external nares in the young of a bird in which they are entirely obliterated in the adult.