Ornithological biography, Vol. 3 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

The objects that more especially attract the notice of the voyager, as he draws near the south-west coast of Labrador, are the numerous low islands covered with countless multitudes of birds, that have assembled there for the purpose of reproduction. Some miles farther, you see a ridge of craggy and desolate cliffs, emerging from the sea, and presenting the appearance of a huge granite wall. This forms a partition between the waters of the great St Lawrence and many fine harbours hidden here and there behind it, along with numerous inlets and bays, coves and small creeks, in which the bark of the adventurer may ride in comparative safety. From the hoary summit of this bulwark the view is grand beyond description; valleys richly carpeted with moss and thickets of low shrubs glow in tints of the richest green; clear blue lakes bear on their bosom numerous birds of varied wing, while around their margins the females are seated on their eggs or carefully leading about their young; banks of perennial snow arrest your eye for a moment, and perhaps produce an involuntary chill; onward towards the horizon, mountains heaped confusedly behind mountains, mingle their gloomy tints with those of the cold sky. In that land, man may for weeks, even months, seek for his kind in vain. The deep silence that reigns around him during a calm, seldom fails to bring sadness to his heart, as his eye grows dim with gazing on the wilderness. Should the northern gale issue from its snowy chambers, darkness follows in its train, and should its whole fury pour upon you, melancholy indeed must be your lot.

To the low islands above alluded to, the beautiful Cormorant represented in the plate before you, resorts each spring, for the purpose of breeding. It arrives from the south about the beginning of May, or as soon as the waters of the Gulf are sufficiently free of ice to enable it to procure food. The winter it spends on our eastern coasts, but it rarely proceeds farther south than the Capes of North Carolina, about which it meets its southern friend the Florida Cormorant, on whose dominions, however, it does not venture.

While with us, the Double-crested Cormorants are seen flying in long lines, sometimes forming angles, and passing low over the water, at no great distance from the shore. They enter our large bays, rivers and creeks, going up as far as the tide, but are seldom or never seen fishing in fresh-water. Their stay along the Middle Districts continues from the beginning of October to the middle of April; farther east they are seen a month earlier, and disappear a fortnight later. A good number breed on the Seal Islands off the Bay of Fundy, but the greater part return to Labrador and Baffin’s Bay, where Dr Richardson found this species. To that excellent man and intrepid traveller, we are indebted, among other valuable fruits of his labours, for the first good description of this bird. From his account and the information which I have received from Captain James Clark Ross, I believe that it does not go much farther north than the place where it was observed by the first mentioned traveller; and no Cormorants were seen during the late voyage to the Arctic circle. It is probable that neither the Double-crested nor the Florida Cormorants occur in any part of Europe; at least, if they have been described as birds of that quarter of the globe, I can find no account sufficiently correct to enable me to recognise them.

A few miles from one of the entrances of the Harbour of Whapatiguan, is a low and flat island about a mile in length, on which the present species breeds. As we sailed past it, we could easily observe the birds on their nests, all over the rock, which was completely white-washed with their excrement, that emitted a disagreeable odour to a great distance. I had seen several islands near the Harbour of Great Macatina inhabited by these Cormorants, but being anxious to complete the examination of one subject at a time, and knowing that we should see a greater number as we approach the Straits of Belle Isle, I put off the investigation until I should have leisure to prosecute it satisfactorily.

My son, accompanied by the captain and four sailors, sailed for Cormorant Island, on which, however, they found great difficulty in landing, for the surf broke so fearfully as to call into requisition all the judgment and good management of Mr Emery. The moment they landed, almost all the birds of the island rose on wing, darkening the air, and alighted at some distance on the water in large bodies. They were so shy that it was not without considerable difficulty that ten of them were obtained. At the first shot, hundreds of young ones scrambled out of their nests, and huddled together in packs of fifteen or twenty. When the men approached them, they opened their bills, squeaked, hissed, and puffed in a most outrageous manner; and the noise produced by the multitudes on the island was not merely disagreeable, but really shocking. Some of the nests contained eggs, and the young were of all sizes, from the newly hatched up to those able to fly; none, however, even of the largest, attempted to gain the water, but all preferred hiding themselves in the fissures of the rocks, or behind the nests. It was curious to see them crawl flat on the rock, assisting themselves with their bill, feet and wings, employing the first in the manner of Parrots, and the wings like the oars of a boat or the flappers of turtles. When approached, they curved and twisted their necks in the most curious manner, reminding one of the writhings of a snake, and when seized they muted so profusely as to excite disgust. A dozen or more of different sizes, however, were thrust into a bag, and carried on board the vessel. The materials and dimensions of the nests were noted on the spot, and a hatful of eggs was brought to me.

The Double-crested Cormorant forms its nest of sea-weeds, some sticks, moss, and clods of earth, with grass adhering to them, which it piles up into a solid mass, often as high as three feet from the rock, with a diameter of fifteen or eighteen inches at the top, and of two and a half feet at the base. The whole has an appearance of solidity seldom seen in the nests of water-birds. The nests are placed as near each other as the nature of the ground will permit, and a great number which appeared to have stood out against the winter storms, had been enlarged and repaired that season. Many, however, lay scattered over the rocks, having been demolished by heavy gales or the breaking of the surf during tempests. The whole surface of the rock resembled a mass of putridity: feathers, broken and rotten eggs, and dead young, lay scattered over it; and I leave you to guess how such a place must smell in a calm warm day. The eggs are three or four, average two and a half inches in length by one inch and four and a half eighths in breadth, and have an elongated form. They are covered with a calcareous coating, which is more or less soiled with filth, but when carefully scraped, shews a fine light greenish-blue tint.

The young when just hatched, are of a bluish-black colour tinged with purple, and look extremely odd. They remain blind for several days, and for about a fortnight are fed by the parents with the greatest care, the food being regurgitated into their open throats. They appear to grow rapidly, for in the course of eight or ten days we found some the size of a pullet, which, when marked, were scarcely half that size. They are covered with long down of a brownish-black colour, and do not leave the nest, unless they are intruded on, until they are able to fly, when their parents, who long before had ceased to feed them by dropping the fish into their bill, and had merely placed it on the ground near them, leave them to shift for themselves. By the middle of August all these birds remove southward, along Newfoundland, by Cape Breton Island, and the shores of Nova Scotia, scarcely any remaining on the coast of the first during winter, when indeed not many are seen farther east than the Bay of Halifax.

The fishermen and eggers never gather their eggs, they being unfit for being eaten by any other animals than Gulls or Jagers; but they commit great havock among the young, which they salt for food or bait. The old birds are too shy to be killed in great numbers, otherwise their feathers, although they smell strongly of fish, might be turned to account. I have never eaten Cormorant’s flesh, and intend to refrain from tasting it until nothing better can be procured.

The flight of this species is strong and well sustained, although not so rapid as that of the Florida Cormorant. It sails at times in a beautiful manner, and at a great height above the waters. Like other species, the Double-crested Cormorants are fond of sunning themselves, with their wings spread out. They walk awkwardly, and cannot run without the aid of their wings. In order to arise from the water, in which they sink so as nearly to be covered when swimming, they are obliged to run and beat the surface for many yards, before they get fairly on wing. Their food consists of shrimps, lents, capelings, codlings, and other fishes, scarcely any kind coming amiss unless too strong or of too great a size. Of the codlings especially they devour vast numbers, they being in astonishing shoals on the coast of Labrador at the time when the Cormorants are breeding, and indeed remaining until the departure of the birds, when they retire to deeper water. I never saw a Cormorant plunge from the air after its prey, but should be much gratified by such a sight, which, if we trust compilers, is nothing uncommon; nor have I ever seen a bird of this species perched on any thing higher than the top of the low island on which the nest is placed, none having been observed by me on any of the high rocks on which the common species breeds in America.

I have given the figure of a beautiful male in its perfect spring plumage. This is probably the only representation of the bird yet presented to the public, and the same remark applies to the Florida Cormorant.