In December 1833, I sent my son to Spring Island, on the coast of Georgia, to which these birds are in the habit of resorting every winter. Mr Hammond, the proprietor of this island, treated him with all the hospitality for which the southern planters are celebrated. The Cranes, which were plentiful, resorted to the sweet potato fields, digging up their produce as expertly as a troop of negroes. They walked carefully over the little heaps, probed them in various parts in the manner of Woodcocks or Snipes, and whenever they hit upon a potato, removed the soil, took out the root, and devoured it in rather small pieces. In this manner they would search over the whole field, which was two miles in length, and rather more than a quarter of a mile in breadth, gleaning all the potatoes that had escaped the gatherers. They were so shy, however, that notwithstanding all the endeavours of my son, who is a good hand at getting in upon game, as well as a good shot, he only killed a young one, which was evidently of that year’s brood, it being yet almost reddish-brown, the long feathers of the rump just beginning to shew, and the head yet covered with hairlike feathers to the mandible, and merely shewing between them the wrinkled skin so conspicuous in the old birds. The specimen procured on Spring Island was carefully examined and described, and the skin is now in the British Museum in London. Its flesh was tender and juicy, of a colour resembling that of young venison, and afforded excellent eating. This I have always found to be the case with young birds of this species, so long as they are in their brown livery, and even when they have begun to be patched with white; but in old birds the flesh becomes very dark, tough and unfit for the table, although the Seminole Indians shoot them on all occasions for food.
In captivity the Whooping Crane becomes extremely gentle, and feeds freely on grain and other vegetable substances. A Mr Magwood, residing near Charleston, in South Carolina, kept one for some time feeding it on maize. It accidentally wounded one of its feet on the shell of an oyster, and, although the greatest care was taken of it, died after lingering some weeks. Having myself kept one alive, I will give you an account of its habits.
It was nearly full-grown when I obtained it, and its plumage was changing from greyish-brown to white. Its figure you will see in the plate to which this article refers. I received it as a present from Captain Clack of the United States Navy, commander of the Erie sloop of war. It had been wounded in the wing, on the coast of Florida, but the fractured limb had been amputated and soon healed. During a voyage of three months, it became very gentle, and was a great favourite with the sailors. I placed it in a yard, in company with a beautiful Snow Goose. This was at Boston. It was so gentle as to suffer me to caress it with the hand, and was extremely fond of searching for worms and grubs about the wood-pile, probing every hole it saw with as much care and dexterity as an Ivory-billed Woodpecker. It also watched with all the patience of a cat the motions of some mice which had burrows near the same spot, killed them with a single blow, and swallowed them entire, one after another, until they were extirpated. I fed it on corn and garbage from the kitchen, to which were added bits of bread and cheese, as well as some apples. It would pick up the straws intended to keep its feet from being soiled, and arrange them round its body, as if intent on forming a nest. For hours at a time, it would stand resting on one foot in a very graceful posture; but what appeared to me very curious was, that it had a favourite leg for this purpose; and in fact none of my family ever found it standing on the other, although it is probable that this happened in consequence of the mutilation of the wing, the leg employed being that of the injured side. The stump of its amputated wing appeared to be a constant source of trouble, particularly at the approach of the winter: it would dress the feathers about it, and cover it with so much care that I really felt for the poor fellow. When the weather became intensely cold, it regularly retired at the approach of night under a covered passage, where it spent the hours of darkness; but it always repaired to this place with marked reluctance, and never until all was quiet and nearly dark, and it came out, even when the snow lay deep on the ground, at the first appearance of day. Now and then it would take a run, extend its only wing, and, uttering a loud cry, leap several times in the air, as if anxious to return to its haunts. At other times it would look upwards, cry aloud as if calling to some acquaintance passing high in the air, and again use its ordinary note whenever its companion the Snow Goose sent forth her own signals. It seldom swallowed its food without first carrying it to the water, and dipping it several times, and now and then it would walk many yards for that express purpose. Although the winter was severe, the thermometer some mornings standing as low as 10°, the bird fattened and looked extremely well. So strong was the natural suspicion of this bird, that I frequently saw it approach some cabbage leaves with measured steps, look at each sideways before it would touch one of them, and after all, if it by accident tossed the leaf into the air when attempting to break it to pieces, it would run off as if some dreaded enemy were at hand.
The trachea of this bird, of which you will find a notice at [p. 213], confirms my opinion that the Canada Crane and the Whooping Crane are merely the same species in different states of plumage, or in other words, at different ages; and, in truth, the differences are not greater than those exhibited by many other birds, both aquatic and terrestrial. In illustration of this subject I might adduce Ibises, Herons, Divers, and Grebes; but this is quite unnecessary.
In reading the accounts given of the Canada Crane of authors, I find no description of its manner of breeding. In the Fauna Boreali-Americana of Mr Swainson and Dr Richardson, the eggs of both are described, and in Nuttall’s Manual those of the Whooping Crane also; but in these works the account given of the birds and of their eggs is such, that one might even, from comparing the descriptions, suppose them to be of the same species. I have never had the satisfaction of finding any of the breeding-places of the Whooping Crane; but I well know that many birds breed long before they have attained their full plumage. The supposed new species of Heron described under the name of Ardea Pealii, by my excellent friend Prince Charles Bonaparte, breeds as the White-headed Eagle sometimes does, the immature bird in a snow-white dress, the adult in purple and greyish-blue plumage. The young of Ardea cœrulea were for some time considered to form a distinct species, they being white also, then blue and white, and finally dark blue. But the most remarkable instance of change of plumage in the Waders is exhibited in the Scarlet Ibis. My humble opinion is, that unless in cases where birds are at first of one colour, and that colour remains ever after, little dependence can be placed on the tints of the plumage as a specific character.
On looking over my notes, I find that I have omitted to inform you that the extraordinary strength of the thighs, legs, and feet of the Whooping Crane, tends greatly to make it more terrestrial than the Herons; and that the great size of their nostrils, which so much resemble those of the Vultures, is well adapted to keep the inner parts of the organ from the damp earth and other matters with which they are so often in contact, while searching in the ground or mud for roots and other vegetable substances, on which the bird principally feeds. I am convinced also, that this species does not attain its full size or perfect plumage until it is four or five years old. The beauty of the plumage may be improved in brilliancy during the breeding-season by a greater brightness in the colour of the bill, as in the Booby Gannet and White Ibis, as well as in the redness of the fleshy parts of the head.
The measurements of the adult bird of my plate, drawn at New Orleans, in the month of April, were as follows:—Length from tip of bill to end of claws, 5 feet 5 inches; to end of tail, 4 feet 6 inches; the drooping feathers 1 foot beyond; alar extent 7 feet 8 inches; length of wing 22 inches; naked part of thigh 5 inches; tarsus 11 1/4 inches; length of middle toe 4 1/4, of its claw 3/4.
The measurements of the specimen kept at Boston:—Length from tip of bill to end of tail, 3 feet 9 inches; to end of claws, 4 feet 6 inches; tarsus 8 inches; naked part of thigh 3 1/2. The elongated inner secondaries equalled the tail. The weight was 9 lb. 14 3/4 oz.
Measurements of that killed on Spring Island:—Length 4 feet 4 1/2 inches, the claws being 7 inches beyond the tail, so that the length from the tip of the bill to the end of the tail was 3 feet 9 1/2 inches; alar extent 5 feet 8 inches. Weight 8 3/4 lb.
In the Museum of the University of Edinburgh, there is a specimen of still smaller size.