The Golden-eye is rarely if ever seen in the company of any other species than those which are, like itself, expert divers; such, for example, as the Mergansers, or the Buffel-headed Duck: and it is very rare to see all the individuals of a flock immersed at once. Sometimes, when suddenly surprised, they immediately dive, and do not rise again until quite out of gun-shot. When wounded, it is next to impossible to catch them; for their power of remaining under water is most surprising, and the sooner one gives up the chase the better.
The Golden-eye Ducks manifest a propensity to adhere to a place which they find productive, and that to a most extraordinary degree. One day, while approaching the shallow fording-place of Canoe Creek, near Henderson, in Kentucky, I observed five Whistlers fishing and swimming about. They allowed me to advance to within a few yards of the shore, when, swimming close together, and shaking their necks, they emitted their rough croaking notes. Not being desirous of shooting them, I slapped my hands smartly together, when in an instant they all went down, but suddenly rose again, and running as it were over the water for about ten yards, took flight, passed and repassed several times over the ford, and alighted on the large branches of a sycamore that hung over the creek, at no greater distance from where I stood than about twenty yards. This was the first time in my life that I had seen Golden-eyes alight on a tree. I waded to the opposite side, and gazed upon them with amazement for several minutes. When on the eve of pursuing my course, one of them, gliding downwards with nearly closed wings, launched upon the water, and at once dived. The other four followed one after another, somewhat in the manner of Pigeons or Starlings, as if to ascertain whether some danger might not still exist. I left them at their avocations, and soon after met a family of country people going to Henderson, one of whom asked me respecting the depth of the ford, to which I replied that the water was low, and added that they should be careful lest some ducks that I had left there might frighten the horses on which the women were. The good folks, with whom I was acquainted, laughed, and we parted.
About four o’clock, as I was returning, with a fine Turkey-cock slung to my back, I met the same party, who told me that, “sure enough,” the ducks were at the ford, and I was likely to have “a good crack at them.” There they were when I went up, and I forced them to fly off; but as I was proceeding, and not more than fifty yards beyond the creek, I heard their splashings as they again alighted. In the course of a fortnight I visited the place several times, but never missed finding these five ducks there. This led me to inquire as to the cause, and, having undressed, I waded out barefooted, and examined the bottom, which I found to be composed of rather hard blue clay, full of holes bored by cray-fish. But to make myself quite sure that these creatures formed the attraction to the Ducks, I watched an opportunity, and shot two of the latter, the examination of which satisfied me on the subject.
I had long before this been convinced, that an abundant supply of food afforded a powerful attraction to migrating birds, and on this subject you may remember my remarks in the articles of the Wild Turkey and Passenger Pigeon, in the first volume of this work; but I had not then, nor have I since, seen so strong an instance of pertinacity in attachment to a particular spot.
The flight of this species is powerful, extremely rapid, and wonderfully protracted. It passes along with a speed equal to that of any of the Duck tribe, and I believe can easily traverse the space of ninety miles in an hour. The whistling of its wings may be distinctly heard when it is more than half a mile distant. This statement may be found to be in contradiction to those of probably every previous writer, for it has been a general opinion, that the greater the extent of wing the more rapid is the flight, which is anything but correct. On flying from the water, they proceed for a considerable distance very low, not rising to any height until they have advanced several hundred yards.
The only nest of the Golden-eye which I have examined, I discovered, on the 15th of June, on the margin of a small creek about eight miles from Green Bay. The female left it, probably to go in search of food, whilst I was sitting under the tree in which it was, thinking more of my peculiar situation than of birds of any kind, for I was almost destitute of ammunition, and bent on returning to my family, then in Louisiana. How exciting are such moments to the ardent observer of Nature! In an instant, hunger, fatigue, even the thoughts of my beloved wife and children, vanished; and in a few minutes I was safely lodged on the tree, and thrusting my arm into the cavity of a large broken branch. Nine beautiful, greenish, smooth eggs, almost equally rounded at both ends, were at my disposal. They were laid on some dry grass of the kind that grew on the edges of the creek, and were deeply imbedded in the down of the bird. Not being then aware of the necessity of measuring or keeping eggs, I roasted them on some embers, and finding them truly delicious, soon satisfied my hunger. While I was eating them, the bird returned, but no male was to be seen. Whether many of these birds breed within the limits of the Union I cannot tell. Dr Richardson says they are abundant in the Fur Countries, and Dr Townsend states, that they are plentiful on the Rocky Mountains and along the north-west coast of America.
Of the changes which the young males undergo, nothing is known beyond the fact, that the young of both sexes resemble the adult female, until the approach of the first spring, when their general migration northward removes them from our observation.
At the approach of spring, I have observed this species swell the throat and the feathers of the head, and emit their rough croaking notes very frequently. The males at this period become very pugnacious, though, after all, they remove northward together, preceding the females for at least a fortnight. They usually spend the autumn and the earlier parts of winter separate from the females. These birds have, like the Goosanders, a habit of shaking their heads violently on emerging from the water Their flesh is fishy, and in my opinion unfit for being eaten, unless in cases of excessive hunger. The food of this species, while on fresh water, consists of fish of various kinds, mollusca, young frogs, tadpoles, crayfish, and, I believe, some kinds of grass. When on salt water, they feed principally on bivalves and fishes of different species.
Anas Clangula, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 201.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 867. Male.
Anas Glaucion, Linn. Syst. Nat. vol. i. p. 201.—Lath. Ind. Ornith. vol. ii. p. 867. Female and Young.