Falco Sancti Johannis, Ch. Bonaparte, Synops. of Birds of the United States, p. 32.
The bill, feet, and iris, are coloured as in middle age; but the plumage is of a nearly uniform chocolate-brown, the bases of the quills, however, remaining white, the broad band on the under surface of the wing being the same as in the younger bird; and the tail being brown, without a subterminal bar of black, but slightly tipped with brownish-white, and barred with yellowish-white on the inner webs, the bars becoming more distinct on the outer feathers. The wings in both reach to near the tip of the tail. The feathers on the nape of the neck are white excepting at the extremities, which is also the case in the young and middle aged birds, and is not a circumstance peculiar to this species, being observed in F. Albicilla, F. palumbarius, F. Nisus, and many others.
THE KEY WEST PIGEON.
Columba montana, Linn.
PLATE CLXVII. Male and Female.
It was at Key West that I first saw this beautiful Pigeon. The Marion was brought to anchor close to, and nearly opposite, the little town of the same name, some time after the setting of the sun. The few flickering lights I saw nearly fixed the size of the place in my imagination. In a trice, the kind captain and I were seated in his gig, and I felt the onward movement of the light bark as if actually on wing, so well timed was the pulling of the brave tars who were taking us to the shore. In this place I formed acquaintance with Major Glassel of the United States Artillery, and his family, of Dr Benjamin Strobel, and several other persons, to whom I must ever feel grateful for the kind attention which they paid to me and my assistants, as well as for the alacrity with which they aided me in procuring rare specimens not only of birds, but also of shells and plants, most of which were unknown to me. Indeed—I cannot too often repeat it—the facilities afforded me by our Government, during my latter journeys and voyages, have been so grateful to my feelings, that I have frequently thought that circumstance alone quite sufficient to induce even a less ardent lover of nature to exert himself to the utmost in repaying the favour.
Major Glassel sent one of his serjeants with me to search the whole island, with which he was perfectly acquainted. The name of this soldier was Sykes, and his life, like mine, had been a chequered one; for there are few pleasures unaccompanied with pains, real or imaginary, and the worthy sergeant had had his share of both. I soon discovered that he was a perfect woodsman, for although we traversed the densest thickets, in close and gloomy weather, he conducted me quite across the island, in as masterly a manner as ever did an Indian on a like occasion.—But perhaps, kind reader, a copy of my journal for that day, may afford you a clearer idea of our search for rare birds, than any other means that I could devise. Before I proceed, however, allow me to state, that, while at Charleston, in South Carolina, I saw at my friend Bachman's house the head of a Pigeon which Dr Strobel had sent from Key West, and which I perceived did not belong to the Zenaida Dove. Serjeant Sykes had seen the Pigeon, and acquainted as he was with the birds of the country, he gave some hope that we might procure a few of them that very day;—and now, for my Journal.
May 6. 1832.—When I reached the garrison, I found the sergeant waiting for me. I gave him some small shot, and we set off, not in full run, nor even at a dog-trot, but with the slowness and carefulness usually employed by a lynx or a cougar when searching for prey. We soon reached the thickets, and found it necessary to move in truth very slowly, one foot warily advanced before the other, one hand engaged in opening a passage, and presently after occupied in securing the cap on the head, in smashing some dozens of hungry musquitoes, or in drawing the sharp thorn of a cactus from a leg or foot, in securing our gun-locks, or in assisting ourselves to rise after a fall occasioned by stumbling against the projecting angle of a rock. But we pushed on, squeezed ourselves between the stubborn branches, and forced our way as well as we could, my guide of course having the lead. Suddenly I saw him stoop, and observing the motion of his hand, immediately followed his example. Reduced by his position to one half of his natural height, he moved more briskly, inclined to the right, then to the left, then pushed forward, and raising his piece as he stopped, immediately fired. "I have it," cried he. "What?" cried I. "The pigeon"—and he disappeared. The heat was excessive, and the brushwood here was so thick and tangled, that had not Mr Sykes been a United States soldier, I should have looked upon him as bent on retaliating on behalf of "the eccentric naturalist;" for, although not more than ten paces distant from me, not a glimpse of him could I obtain. After crawling to the spot I found him smoothing the feathers of a Pigeon which I had never seen, nay the most beautiful yet found in the United States. How I gazed on its resplendent plumage!—how I marked the expression of its rich-coloured, large and timid eye, as the poor creature was gasping its last breath!—Ah, how I looked on this lovely bird! I handled it, turned it, examined its feathers and form, its bill, its legs and claws, weighed it by estimate, and after a while formed a winding sheet for it of a piece of paper. Did ever an Egyptian pharmacopolist employ more care in embalming the most illustrious of the Pharaohs, than I did in trying to preserve from injury this most beautiful of the woodland cooers!
I never felt, nor did my companion, that our faces and hands were covered with musquitoes; and although the perspiration made my eyes smart, I was as much delighted as ever I had been on such an occasion. We travelled onward, much in the same manner, until we reached the opposite end of the island; but not another bird did we meet this day.
As we sat near the shore gazing on the curious light pea-green colour of the sea, I unfolded my prize, and as I now more quietly observed the brilliant changing metallic hues of its plumage, I could not refrain from exclaiming—"But who will draw it?" for the obvious difficulties of copying nature struck me as powerfully as they ever had done, and brought to my memory the following passage:—"La nature se joue du pinceau des hommes;—lorsqu'on croit qu'il a atteint sa plus grande beauté, elle sourit et s'embellit encore!"
We returned along the shore of this curious island to the garrison, after which Major Glassel's barge conveyed me on board of the Marion.