The Florida Cormorant begins to pair about the first of April, and commences the construction of its nest about a fortnight after. Many do not lay quite so early, and I found some going through their preparations until the middle of May. Their courtships are performed on the water. On the morning, beautiful but extremely hot, of the 8th of that month, while rambling over one of the Keys, I arrived at the entrance of a narrow and rather deep channel, almost covered over by the boughs of the mangroves and some tall canes, the only tall canes I had hitherto observed among those islands. I paused, looked at the water, and observing it to be full of fish, felt confident that no shark was at hand. Cocking both locks of my gun, I quietly waded in. Curious sounds now reached my ears, and as the fishes did not appear to mind me much, I proceeded onward among them for perhaps a hundred yards, when I observed that they had all disappeared. The sounds were loud and constantly renewed, as if they came from a joyous multitude. The inlet suddenly became quite narrow, and the water reached to my arm-pits. At length I placed myself behind some mangrove trunks, whence I could see a great number of Cormorants not more than fifteen or twenty yards from me. None of them, it seemed, had seen or heard me; they were engaged in going through their nuptial ceremonies. The males while swimming gracefully round the females, would raise their wings and tail, draw their head over their back, swell out their neck for an instant, and with a quick forward thrust of the head utter a rough guttural note, not unlike the cry of a pig. The female at this moment would crouch as it were on the water, sinking into it, when her mate would sink over her until nothing more than his head was to be seen, and soon afterwards both sprung up and swam joyously round each other, croaking all the while. Twenty or more pairs at a time were thus engaged. Indeed, the water was covered with Cormorants, and, had I chosen, I might have shot several of them. I now advanced slowly towards them, when they stared at me as you might stare at a goblin, and began to splash the water with their wings, many diving. On my proceeding they all dispersed, either plunging beneath or flying off, and making rapidly towards the mouth of the inlet. Only a few nests were on the mangroves, and I looked upon the spot as analogous to the tournament grounds of the Pinnated Grouse, although no battles took place in my presence. A few beautiful Herons were sitting peaceably on their nests, the musquitoes were very abundant, large ugly blue land-crabs crawled among the mangroves, hurrying towards their retreats, and I retired, as I had arrived, in perfect silence. While proceeding I could not help remarking the instinctive knowledge of the fishes, and thought how curious it was that, as soon as they had observed the Cormorants’ hole, none had gone farther, as if they were well aware of the danger, but preferred meeting me as I advanced towards the birds. I emerged from the water almost exhausted with heat, my eyes aching from the perspiration; but the refreshing sea-breeze now reached me, and cooled my feverish frame. Thankful, Reader, did I then feel, and thankful do I feel now, having survived so many encounters of this kind.
The nest of the Florida Cormorant is of rather a small size, being only eight or nine inches in diameter. It is formed of sticks crossing each other, and is flat, without any appearance of finishing. All the nests are placed on a western exposure, and are usually completely covered with excrement, as are also frequently the eggs, which are three or four, and differ in size, their average length, however, being two inches and a quarter, their greatest breadth one inch and three and a half eighths. They are rendered rather rough by the coating of calcareous matter which surrounds them; but when this is removed, the real shell is found to be of a uniform fine light bluish-green tint. I was unable to ascertain the period of incubation. The young are at first blind, naked, black, and extremely uncouth. On placing some which were quite small on the water, they instantly dived, rose again, and swam about at random, diving on the least noise. If you approach them when about a month old, they throw themselves from the nest and plunge into the water. When undisturbed, they remain in the nest until they are fully fledged and able to fly, after which they undergo various changes, and are not perfect until nearly two years old.
Soon after they are left to shift for themselves, great numbers go to search for food in the quiet waters of inland streams. Thousands may now be seen on the lakes of the interior of the Floridas, and on the large rivers there. At this season many proceed as far as the Capes of North Carolina, the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Yazoo, and other streams, including the fair Ohio, on which they are at times seen early in October, when they begin to return to the places of their nativity. During several weeks which I spent on the St John’s River, while on board the United States’ schooner-of-war the Spark, I was surprised to see the number of these Cormorants already returning towards the keys, so much so that had I been the discoverer of that stream under similar circumstances, I should in all probability have named it Cormorant River. While we were at anchor near its mouth, they passed close to us in long single files almost continually, and, on reaching the sea, bore away towards the south along the shores.
On the Mississippi, in the month of October, when the temperature is considerably lower than in the Floridas, you see these birds during the day standing in their usual inclined position, on the sawyers and planters, as if resting there—so at least was the case in the autumn of 1820,—or on the dead branches of trees along the shores. In cloudy days they sailed high in the air, and in wide circles, after which, as if aware of cold weather being at hand, they swiftly followed in long lines the meandering course of the stream, at a considerable elevation. While sailing aloft, they frequently uttered a note not unlike that of the raven in similar circumstances. When approached while standing on a planter, instead of taking to wing at once, although elevated several feet above the water, they prefer plunging first into the stream, when they almost instantly rise to the surface, paddle with their feet, and beat with their wings for twenty or thirty yards, and then rise into the air. Now and then, when of a sudden the weather becomes cold at night, you see them at early dawn join in numbers of fifty or perhaps a hundred, rise high in the air, arrange themselves in angular double files, and fly swiftly southward.
When in fresh water streams they fish principally in the eddies, and as soon as one of them is depopulated, or proves unworthy of their farther search, they rise and fly about a foot above the surface to another place, where they continue to fish. In the inner lakes of the Floridas they fish at random any where, and this is equally the case around the Keys, and on the bays and inlets along the coast. In fine calm weather, when the sun is pouring down a flood of light and heat, the Cormorants in flocks betake themselves to some clean sand-bar or rocky isle, or alight on trees, where they spread out their wings, and bask at times for hours, in the manner of Vultures and Pelicans.
The Florida Cormorant, like all the other species with which I am acquainted, swims deep, and dives with great expertness, so that it is almost useless to follow one when wounded, unless it has been greatly injured. On seeing an enemy approach, it first beats the water with its wings, as if in play, or as it would do if washing itself, raises both wings for a minute or more, then paddles off, and takes to wing. When on a lake, they prefer diving to flying, swim with all but the neck and head under water, in the manner of the Anhinga or Snake-bird, and easily dive without shewing their backs.
They procure their food entirely by diving from the surface of the water, never from on wing, as some compilers assert; nay, the very form of their bill, and the want of air-cells, such as plunging birds are usually provided with, prevent them from darting from above into the water, as is the habit of Gannets and other birds, which seek for food on wing, go far out to sea, and stand gales such as the Cormorant, which rarely venture out of sight of the shores, does not dare to encounter, or of those which, like Gulls, pass swiftly in curved lines over the surface, picking up their prey. On emerging, these Cormorants usually swallow their prey if it has been so seized as to enable them to do so with ease; if not, they throw it up to a short distance in the air, receive it with open bill, and gulp it head foremost. If the fish is large, they swim or fly to the shore, or alight on a tree with it, and there beat and tear it to pieces, after which they swallow it. Their appetite is scarcely satiable, and they gorge themselves to the utmost at every convenient opportunity.
The flight of this species is perhaps more rapid than that of the others mentioned above, and is performed by continued flappings when the bird is travelling, but by alternate flappings and sailings of great elegance during the beginning of the breeding season, or when they collect in large flocks in lowering weather, sometimes also when about to alight. Their food consists chiefly of fish, and they generally prefer those of small size. While on the Florida Keys, I procured five specimens of the Hippocampus, fresh and uninjured, from the gullets of some of these Cormorants. They are hard to kill, and live to a great age.
They are easily treated in captivity; but their awkward movements on the ground, where they often use the tail as a support, render them less pleasing objects than other feathered pets. Besides, they eat and mute inordinately, and instead of charming you with songs, utter no sound excepting a grunt. Their flesh is dark, generally tough, and has a rank fishy taste, which can suit the palate only of refined epicures, some of whom I have heard pronounce it excellent. The Indians and Negroes of the Floridas kill the young when nearly able to fly, and after skinning them, salt them for food. I have seen them offered for sale in the New Orleans market, the poorer people there making gombo soup of them.
A bird of this species, which I shot near its breeding place, and which, on being examined, proved to be a female, had the feathers of the tail covered with delicate slender sea-weeds of a bright green colour, such as I have often observed on marine turtles, and which appeared to have actually grown there.