The river increased in breadth and depth, and the sawyers and planters, logs so called, diminished in number the nearer we drew towards the famed city. At every bend we found the plantations increased, and now the whole country on both sides became so level and destitute of trees along the water’s edge, that we could see over the points before us, and observe the great stream stretching along for miles. Within the levees the land is much lower than the surface of the river when the water is high; but at this time we could see over the levee from the deck of our boat only the upper windows of the planters’ houses, or the tops of the trees about them, and the melancholy looking cypresses covered with Spanish moss forming the back ground. Persons rode along the levees at full speed; pelicans, gulls, vultures, and carrion crows sailed over the stream, and at times there came from the shore a breeze laden with the delicious perfume of the orange-trees, which were covered with blossoms and golden fruits.
Having passed Bayou Lafourche, our boat was brought-to on account of the wind, which blew with violence. We landed, and presently made our way to the swamps, where we shot a number of those beautiful birds called Boat-tailed Grakles. The mocking birds on the fence-stakes saluted us with so much courtesy and with such delightful strains, that we could not think of injuring them; but we thought it no harm to shoot a whole covey of partridges. In the swamps we met with warblers of various kinds, lively and beautiful, waiting in these their winter retreats for the moment when Boreas should retire to his icy home, and the gentle gales of the south should waft them toward their breeding places in the north. Thousands of swallows flew about us, the cat-birds mewed in answer to their chatterings, the cardinal grosbeak elevated his glowing crest as he stood perched on the magnolia branch, the soft notes of the doves echoed among the woods, nature smiled upon us, and we were happy.
On the fourth of January we stopped at Bonnet Carré, where I entered a house to ask some questions about birds. I was received by a venerable French gentleman, whom I found in charge of about a dozen children of both sexes, and who was delighted to hear that I was a student of nature. He was well acquainted with my old friend Charles Carré, and must, I thought, be a good man, for he said he never suffered any of his pupils to rob a bird of her eggs or young, although, said he with a smile, “they are welcome to peep at them and love them.” The boys at once surrounded me, and from them I received satisfactory answers to most of my queries respecting birds.
The sixth of January was so cold that the thermometer fell to 30°, and we had seen ice on the running boards of our keel boat. This was quite unlooked for, and we felt uncomfortable; but before the middle of the day, all nature was again in full play. Several beautiful steamers passed us. The vegetation seemed not to have suffered from the frost; green pease, artichokes and other vegetables were in prime condition. This reminds me that on one of my late journeys, I ate green pease in December in the Floridas, and had them once a-week at least in my course over the whole of the Union, until I found myself and my family feeding on the same vegetable more than a hundred miles to the North of the St John’s River in New Brunswick.
Early on the seventh, thousands of tall spars, called masts by the mariners, came in sight; and as we drew nearer, we saw the port filled with ships of many nations, each bearing the flag of its country. At length we reached the Levee, and found ourselves once more at New Orleans. In a short time my companions dispersed, and I commenced a search for something that might tend to compensate me for the loss of my drawings.
On the 16th of March following, I had the gratification of receiving a letter from Mr A. P. Bodley, of Natchez, informing me that my portfolio had been found and deposited at the office of “the Mississippi Republican,” whence an order from me would liberate it. Through the kindness of Mr Garnier, I received it on the 5th of April. So very generous had been the finder of it, that when I carefully examined the drawings in succession, I found them all present and uninjured, save one, which had probably been kept by way of commission.
THE WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE.
Anser albifrons, Bechst.
PLATE CCLXXXVI. Male.
Neither Wilson nor Nuttall seem to have been aware of the regularity with which this species migrates through the United States. When I shewed a drawing of it to the first of these authors, he pronounced it to be a young Snow Goose, although I described to him its peculiar notes. During the whole of my residence in Kentucky, a winter never passed without my seeing a good number of them; and at that season they are frequently offered for sale in the markets of New Orleans. An English gentleman, who was on his way to the settlement of Birkbeck in the Prairies west of the Ohio, and who spent a few weeks with me at Henderson, was desirous of having a tasting of some of our game. His desire was fully gratified, and the first that was placed before him was a White-fronted Goose. I had killed seven of these birds, the evening before, in a pond across the Ohio, which was regularly supplied with flocks from the beginning of October to the end of March. He pronounced it “delicious,” and I have no reason to dissent from his opinion. From the numbers seen high on the Arkansas River, I presume that many winter beyond the southern limits of the United States. They are exceedingly rare, however, along our Atlantic coast. In Kentucky they generally arrive before the Canada Goose, betaking themselves to the grassy ponds; and of the different species which visit that country they are by far the least shy. The flocks seldom exceed from thirty to fifty individuals. Their general appearance is that exhibited in the plate, and which I consider as their winter plumage, feeling pretty confident that in summer the lower part of the body becomes pure black.
The flight of the White-fronted is very similar to that of the Canada Goose, being firm and well sustained. When travelling, these birds pass at a considerable height, arranged in the same angular order, and apparently guided by one of the older Ganders. They walk with ease, and can run with considerable speed when wounded. In feeding they immerse their necks, like other species; but during continued rains they visit the cornfields and large savannahs. While in Kentucky they feed on the beech nuts and acorns that drop along the margins of their favourite ponds. In the fields they pick up the grains of maize left by the squirrels and racoons, and nibble the young blades of grass. In their gizzards I have never found fishes or water lizards, but often broken shells of different kinds of snails.