Ornithological biography, Vol. 4 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

Another strange notion, not deserving of credit, although you will find it gravely announced in books, is that, when the Loon is breeding, it will dart down suddenly from the air, and alight securely in its nest. I have never witnessed such a procedure, although I have closely watched, from under cover, at least, twenty pairs. On such occasions I have seen the incubating bird pass over the dear spot several times in succession, gradually rounding and descending so as at last to alight obliquely on the water, which it always did at a considerable distance from the nest, and did not approach it until after glancing around and listening attentively, as if to assure itself that it was not watched, when it would swim to the shore, and resume its office.

The Loon breeds in various parts of the United States, from Maryland to Maine. I have ascertained that it nestles in the former of these States, on the Susquehannah river, as well as in the districts between Kentucky and Canada, and on our great lakes. Dr Richardson states that it is found breeding as far north as the 70th degree of latitude. The situation and form of the nest differ according to circumstances. Some of those which breed in the State of Maine, place it on the hillocks of weeds and mud prepared by the musk-rat, on the edges of the lakes, or at some distance from them among the rushes. Other nests, found on the head-waters of the Wabash River, were situated on the mud, amid the rank weeds, more than ten yards from the water. Authors have said that only one pair breed on a lake; but I have found three pairs, with their nests, on a pond not exceeding a quarter of a mile in length, in the State of Maine. One that I saw after the young had left it, on Cayuga Lake, in 1824, was almost afloat, and rudely attached to the rushes, more than forty yards from the land, though its base was laid on the bottom, the water being eight or nine inches deep. Others examined in Labrador were placed on dry land, several yards from the water, and raised to the height of nearly a foot above the decayed moss on which they were laid. But, in cases when the nest was found at any distance from the water, we discovered a well-beaten path leading to it, and very much resembling those made by the Beaver, to which the hunters give the name of “crawls.” The nest, wherever placed, is bulky, and formed of the vegetable substances found in the immediate vicinity, such as fresh or withered grasses and herbaceous plants. The internal part, or the true nest, which is rarely less than a foot, and is sometimes fifteen inches, in diameter, is raised upon the external or inferior mass, to the height of seven or eight inches. Such was one found on the 5th July 1835, in Labrador, and which was placed within three yards of the edge of a considerable pond of limpid water, supposed to have been produced by the melting of the snow, and upwards of a mile distant from the sea. Of the many nests which I have examined, I have found more containing three than two eggs, and I am confident that the former number is that which more frequently occurs, although many European, and some American writers, who probably never saw a nest of this bird, allege the contrary. The eggs average three inches and three quarters in length, by two inches and a quarter in their greatest breadth, and thus are considerably elongated, being particularly narrowed from the bulge to the smaller end, which is rather pointed. They are of a dull greenish-ochry tint, rather indistinctly marked with spots of dark umber, which are more numerous toward the larger extremity. The weight of two of these eggs, containing young nearly ready to emerge, was ten ounces and a half. In Maine the Loon lays fully a month earlier than in Labrador, and about the same period as on the Wabash.

On approaching the female while sitting on her eggs, I assured myself that she incubates with her body laid flat upon them, in the same way as the Domestic Duck, and that, on perceiving the intruder, she squats close, and so remains until he is almost over her, when she springs up with great force, and makes at once for the water, in a scrambling and sliding manner, pushing herself along the ground. On gaining the water, she dives at once, emerges at a great distance, and very rarely suffers herself to be approached within gunshot. Sometimes they swim so deeply immersed as scarcely to be perceptible, and keep as much as possible among the rushes and other water plants. When the eggs are on the eve of being hatched, the mother, when disturbed, often cries loudly and dismally for some time, but seldom flies off. At other times, when I found the eggs to have been recently laid, the bird, on reaching the water, and diving, swam lightly, flapping its wings, drank once or twice, and moved about at a respectful distance. On such occasions, should you persist in watching it, it rises on wing and flies off. Should you not mark the spot in which the nest is, but leave it to go in pursuit of the bird, you may search for hours before finding it, for the path leading from the water to it is generally covered over by the herbage. Once while approaching a spot in which I knew a Loon to be engaged in forming her nest, I was disappointed at not finding her at work: her keen sense of hearing had apprised her of my purpose, and cunningly must she have slipped away, for, on finding her absent, although I had not heard any noise, I happened to look toward the water, and there she was, gliding off in the quiet manner usual on such occasions.

The young of the Loon are covered at birth with a kind of black stiff down, and in a day or two after are led to the water by their mother. They swim and dive extremely well even at this early stage of their existence, and after being fed by regurgitation for about a fortnight, receive portions of fish, aquatic insects, and small reptiles, until they are able to maintain themselves. During this period, grey feathers appear among the down of the back and belly, and the black quill-feathers of the wings and tail gradually elongate. They are generally very fat, and so clumsy as to be easily caught on land, if their retreat to the water be cut off. But should you miss your opportunity, and the birds succeed in gaining the liquid element, into which they drop like so many Terrapins, you will be astonished to see them as it were run over the water with extreme celerity, leaving behind them a distinct furrow. This power of traversing the surface of the water is possessed not only by the young and old of this species, but by all other kinds of swimmers, including even Gallinules and Coots. When the young are well able to fly, the mother entices them to remove from the pond or lake on which they have been bred, and leads them on wing to the nearest part of the sea, after which she leaves them to shift for themselves. Now and then, after this period, the end of August or beginning of September, I have still seen the young of a brood, two or three in number, continuing together until they were induced to travel southward, when they generally set out singly.

Having given you a figure of a young bird, taken in October 1819 from a specimen obtained on the Ohio, I will not here trouble you with its description, but merely state that the young undergo their first moult in December, when they are seen singularly patched with portions of new plumage beautifully speckled with white, on a bed of almost uniform ash-brown. I was told, while in the State of Maine, that if the young were caught soon after being hatched, and before they had been in the water, they would, if thrown into it, immediately follow a paddled canoe anywhere; but, as I have not myself made the experiment, I cannot speak of this as a fact.

Although it has been generally asserted that Loons cannot walk or run in an efficient manner, I feel assured that on emergency the case is very different. An instance which occurred to my youngest son, John Woodhouse, who accompanied me to Labrador, may here be related. One day, when he was in pursuit of some King Ducks, a Loon chanced to fly immediately over him within shooting distance of his enormous double-barrelled gun. The moment was propitious, and on firing he was glad to see the bird fall broken-winged on the bare granitic rocks. As if perfectly aware of its danger, it immediately rose erect on its feet, and inclining its body slightly forward, ran off, stumbled, rose again, and getting along in this manner actually reached the water before my son, who is by no means slow of foot. The space traversed was fully an hundred yards, and the water to an equal distance was not more than ankle-deep. The bird and its pursuer ran swiftly through the water, and just as both reached a sudden break about four feet in depth, the Loon, which had been wounded elsewhere than in the wing, expired and floated at the disposal of its enemy, who brought it on board the Ripley; when I entered this anecdote in my journal.

These birds are so very strong and hardy that some of the old ones remain in Maine and Massachusetts until all the fresh waters are frozen, first leaving the quiet lakes and ponds, then the slow streams, and lastly the turbulent pools below waterfalls, which latter they do not quit until they are overhung by icicles and deserted of fish. On the other hand, this species returns northward at a later period than most others that breed in high latitudes. I have witnessed the arrival of some on the coast of Labrador, after they had crossed the Gulf of St Lawrence, as late as the 20th of June, after which they had scarcely four months to seek out a breeding place, lay their eggs, hatch and rear their young, and with them remove southward, before the rigour of winter commenced.

The Great Northern Diver is a heavy-bodied bird, and generally swims rather deep in the water, more especially if apprehensive of immediate danger, when scarcely more than two inches in height of its back can be seen above the surface. As its body is more flattened than that of the Cormorant, this circumstance might seem to favour the action in question; but other species less depressed exhibit the same peculiarity; and I have thought that in all of these the internal structure alone can account for this peculiar faculty.

With the exception of that most expert of all divers, the Anhinga, and the Great Auk, the Loon is perhaps the most accomplished. Whether it be fishing in deep water amid rolling billows, or engaged in eluding its foes, it disappears beneath the surface so suddenly, remains so long in the water, and rises at so extraordinary a distance, often in a direction quite the reverse of that supposed to be followed by it, that your eyes become wearied in searching for it, and you renounce the wish of procuring it out of sheer vexation. At least, this has very frequently happened to me; nay, I have at times abandoned the chase when the bird was so severely wounded as to be obliged to dive immediately beside my boat, and had it not died of exhaustion and floated near enough to be seized by me, I felt as if I could not have pulled my oars any longer, and was willing to admit that I was outdone by a Loon.

In Labrador, where these birds were abundant, my son John one day shot at one on wing, which fell upon the water to appearance quite dead, and remained on its back motionless until we had leisurely rowed to it, when a sailor put out his hand to take it up. The Loon, however, to our surprise, suddenly sprung up, and dived, and while we stood amazed, watching its appearance, we saw it come up at the distance of about an hundred yards, shake its head, and disgorge a quantity of fish mixed with blood; on which it dived again, and seemed lost to us. We rowed however to the spot in all haste, and the moment it rose, sent another shot after it, which terminated its career. On examining it afterwards, we found it quite riddled by the heavy shot.