Ornithological biography, Vol. 3 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

Whether European writers have spoken of this species at random, or after due observation, I cannot say. All I know is, that every one of them whose writings I have consulted, says that the Black Guillemot lays only one egg. As I have no reason whatever to doubt their assertion, I might be tempted to suppose that our species differs from theirs, were I not perfectly aware that birds in different places will construct different nests, and lay more or fewer eggs. Our species always deposits three, unless it may have been disturbed; and this fact I have assured myself of by having caught the birds in more than twenty instances sitting on that number. Nay, on several occasions, at Labrador, some of my party and myself saw several Black Guillemots sitting on eggs in the same fissure of a rock, where every bird had three eggs under it, a fact which I communicated to my friend Thomas Nuttall. What was most surprising to me was, that even the fishermen there thought that this bird laid only a single egg; and when I asked them how they knew, they simply and good-naturedly answered that they had heard so. Thus, Reader, I might have been satisfied with the sayings of others, and repeated that the bird in question lays one egg; but instead of taking this easy way of settling the matter, I found it necessary to convince myself of the fact by my own observation. I had therefore to receive many knocks and bruises in scrambling over rugged crags and desolate headlands; whereas, with less incredulity, I might very easily have announced to you from my easy chair in Edinburgh, that the Black Guillemots of America lay only a single egg. No true student of nature ought ever to be satisfied without personal observation when it can be obtained. It is the “American Woodsman” that tells you so, anxious as he is that you should enjoy the pleasure of studying and admiring the beautiful works of Nature.

To satisfy yourself as to the correctness of the statements which he here lays before you, go to the desolate shores of Labrador. There, in the vernal month of June, place yourself on some granite rock, against the base of which the waves dash in impotent rage; and ere long you will see the gay Guillemot coming from afar by the side of its mate. They shoot past you on fluttering wings, and suddenly disappear. Go to the place; lay yourself down on the dripping rock, and you will be sure to see the birds preparing their stony nest, for each has brought a smooth pebble in its bill. See how industriously they are engaged in raising this cold fabric into the form of a true nest, before the female lays her eggs, so that no wet may reach them, from the constant trickling of the waters beneath. Up to the height of two or three inches the pebbles are gradually raised, the male stands by his beloved; and some morning when you peep into the crevice, you observe that an egg has been deposited. Two days after you find the number complete.

A closet-naturalist was quite surprised, I have been told, when he read in one of my volumes that Grakles form no nests in one portion of the United States, being there contented with merely dropping their eggs in the bottom of a Woodpecker’s hole; while in the Middle States the same species forms a very snug nest. That his astonishment was great I do not in the least doubt, especially as I know how surprised I was to find the Larus argentatus breeding on fir-trees forty feet above the ground, and to see three eggs, instead of one, placed on a bed of small pebbles beautifully arranged, and every one belonging to a single pair of Black Guillemots. Yet, good Reader, as I have also been told, the same person had no doubt whatever that ermines turn from brown to white in winter, that snakes and crabs cast off their skins and shells, and that “fleas are not lobsters;” but then the reason of his belief was simply that he had read of these things; and his doubts as to the Grakles arose from the facts having been recently reported by a stranger from the “far west,” who, it seems, talked of things which he had not read of before.

Whilst in Labrador, I was delighted to see with what judgment the Black Guillemot prepares a place for its eggs. Whenever the spot chosen happens to be so situated as to preclude damp, not a pebble does the bird lay there, and its eggs are placed on the bare rock. It is only in what I call cases of urgency that this trouble is taken. About fifty or sixty pebbles or bits of stone are then used, and the number is increased or diminished according to circumstances.

The eggs of this species, which appear disproportionately large, measure two inches and three eighths in length, by an inch and five-eighths in breadth. Their form is regular; they are rather rough to the touch, although not granulated; their ground colour an earthy white, thickly blotched with very dark purplish-black, the markings larger and closer towards the great end, which, however, is generally left free of them. The shell is much thinner than that of the egg of the Foolish Guillemot or Razor-billed Auk. As an article of food they are excellent, being delicate and nutritious.

The parents pluck the feathers from a space across the lower part of their belly, as soon as incubation commences; and this bare place, when the bird is taken alive, it immediately conceals by drawing the feathers of the upper part of the abdomen over it, as if it were anxious that it should not be observed. When driven from the nest, the Black Guillemot at once runs out of its hiding-place and flies to the water, on which it plays, bathes as it were, dives a few times, and anxiously watches your retreat, after which it soon returns and resumes the arduous task of incubation.

The young, which are at first quite black, are covered with soft down, and emit, although in an under tone, the same lisping notes as their parents. Their legs, feet, and bill are black. The red colour of the legs of the old birds is much brighter during the breeding-season than at any other time, and the mouth also is bright red. About the first of August the Guillemots lead their progeny to the water, and although at this time neither old nor young are able to fly, they dive deeply and with great ease, which enables them to procure abundance of food, for at this season, lints, shrimps, and marine insects are plentiful in all the waters.

While in Labrador, I made a severe experiment to ascertain how long the Black Guillemot could live without food,—an experiment on which I have never since been able to think, without some feeling of remorse. I confined a pair of them in the fissure of a rock for many days in succession. After the entrance was securely closed, I left the place, and for eight days the wind blew so hard that no boat was safe on the waters without the harbour. Many a time I thought of the poor captives, and at last went to their retreat one rainy afternoon, over a great swell of the sea. The entrance of the fissure was opened, and a stick pushed into the hole, when I had the pleasure of seeing both birds, although apparently in a state of distress, run out by me, and at once fly to the water.

The flight of the Black Guillemot is rapid and continued. As they proceed in their course, they alternately shew the black of their lower parts and the white of their wings. They walk on the rocks with considerable ease, using short steps, and whenever they wish to remove from one crag or block to another, make use of their wings. When their nests are very high above the water, they fly directly into them; and from such heights, if necessity demands it, they at once dive towards the water.

I kept many alive on board the Ripley. They ran on the floor in an erect position for a few yards, fell down on their breasts, rose again, and continued their exertions to escape, until they got fairly concealed behind a chest or barrel.