Game Birds and Game Fishes of the Pacific Coast

by Harry Thom Payne

Measurements—Wing, 13 inches; bill, 1 ¹/₂ inches.

THE SWANS

(Olor columbianus) and (Olor buccinator)

(Subfamily, CYGNINAE)

Both the whistling swan (Olor columbianus) and the trumpeter swan (Olor buccinator) were once very plentiful on the Pacific Coast hunting grounds, as far south as central California, and especially so on the Columbia river and the lakes of Oregon and Washington. A few were met with also as far south as San Diego county, California.

I shall never forget the first two swans I ever killed and my experience with them. It was the first winter after I came to California and I was living in Los Angeles, then a little Mexican village, and three of us were doing our own housekeeping. Whatever the reason—most likely from some hallucination of boyhood—I entertained the belief that swans must be exceedingly fine eating. As I prided myself then, just after crossing the plains, upon being a good cook, great preparations were made for an extra fine feast on what I fancied would be a delicious bird. We had a good stove and the first of the two swans was carefully "stuffed" with the choicest dressing, consisting of the combined suggestions of the three of us. It was placed in the oven, the fire carefully tended and the magnificent bird repeatedly "basted." When it was ready and placed on the table it fell to my lot to do the carving. Having drawn my knife across the hunger-producing carcass without making any perceptible impression, I decided that it must be the fault of a dull knife. Among our table furnishings we had no sharpening steel, a scythe stone doing service in its stead. I hunted this up and began on the knife with the "mower's challenge" stroke and soon had an edge that would have cut through anything less than an eighty-pound rail. With no little effort I amputated the legs and the wings, and cutting a generous piece from one side of the breast passed it to one of my companions, who at once began on it with his knife. A few attempts to sever it and he reached for the scythe stone. Then when he began chewing on the segregated piece he declared that it was not cooked enough. A dispute followed as to whether it is over-cooking or under-cooking that makes a bird tough. With this momentous question still unsettled we decided that some of the many ingredients that we had put into the "stuffing" must have given the meat its sole-leather consistency. We had a couple of hounds, whose teeth had been well tested in many a coyote kill, and we passed this first swan up to them.

The next day the other bird was worked into a fine stew and well cooked. When served the stew was fine. The dumplings were light and fairly melted in our mouths; the red peppers were hot; the aroma of onions was just of that degree to suggest the ambrosia of the gods; but the swan! Well, the hounds ate it through the compulsion of hunger.

A half-grown swan, however, is very good eating.