Ornithological biography, Vol. 4 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

There are facts connected with the habits of birds which might afford a pretty good idea of the relative temperatures of different parts of the country during a given season; and those observed with regard to the Anhinga seem to me peculiarly illustrative of this circumstance. I have found the “Grecian Lady” breeding on St John’s River in East Florida, near Lake George, as early as the 23d of February; having previously seen many of them caressing each other on the waters, and again carrying sticks, fresh twigs, and other matters, to form their nests, and having also shot females with the eggs largely developed. Now, at the same period, perhaps not a single Anhinga is to be seen in the neighbourhood of Natchez, only a few about New Orleans, in the eastern parts of Georgia, and the middle maritime portions of South Carolina. In Louisiana this bird breeds in April or May, and in South Carolina rarely before June, my friend Bachman having found eggs, and young just hatched, as late as the 28th of that month. In North Carolina, where only a few pairs breed, it is later by a fortnight.

I have already expressed my opinion that birds which thus breed so much earlier in one section of the country than in another, especially when at great distances, may, after producing one or even two broods, in the same year, still have time enough to proceed toward higher latitudes for the purpose of again breeding. Actual observations have moreover satisfied me that individuals of the same species produced in warm latitudes have a stronger disposition toward reproduction than those of more northern climates. This being the case, and most birds endowed with the power of migrating, having a tendency to exercise it, may we not suppose that the pair of Anhingas which bred on the St John’s in February, might be inclined to breed again either in South Carolina or in the neighbourhood of Natchez, several months after. But, as yet, I have not been able to adduce positive proof of the accuracy of this opinion.

The nest of the Snake-bird is variously placed in different localities; sometimes in low bushes, and even on the common smilax, not more than eight or ten feet above the water, if the place be secluded, or on the lower or top branches of the highest trees, but always over the water. In Louisiana and the State of Mississippi, where I have seen a goodly number of nests, they were generally placed on very large and tall cypresses, growing out of the central parts of lakes and ponds, or overhanging the borders of lagoons, bayous, or rivers, distant from inhabited places. They are frequently placed singly, but at times amidst hundreds or even thousands of nests of several species of Herons, especially Ardea alba and A. Herodias, the Great White and Great Blue Herons. As however in all cases the form, size, and component materials are nearly the same, I will here describe a nest procured for the purpose by my friend Bachman.

It measured fully two feet in diameter, and was of a flattened form, much resembling that of the Florida Cormorant. The first or bottom layer was made of dry sticks of different sizes, some nearly half an inch in diameter, laid crosswise, but in a circular manner. Green branches with leaves on them, of the common myrtle, Myrica cerifera, a quantity of Spanish moss, and some slender roots, formed the upper and inside layer, which was as solid and compact as that of any nest of the Heron tribe. This nest contained four eggs; another examined on the same day had four young birds; a third only three; and in no instance has a nest of the Anhinga been found with either eight eggs, or “two eggs and six young ones,” as mentioned by Mr Abbott, of Georgia, in his notes transmitted to Wilson. Mr Abbott is however correct in saying that this species “will occupy the same tree for a series of years,” and I have myself known a pair to breed in the same nest three seasons, augmenting and repairing it every succeeding spring, as Cormorants and Herons are wont to do. The eggs average two inches and five-eighths in length, by one and a quarter in diameter, and are of an elongated oval form, of a dull uniform whitish colour externally, being covered with a chalky substance, beneath which the shell, on being carefully scraped, is of a light blue, precisely resembling in this respect the eggs of the different species of American Cormorants with which I am acquainted.

The young when about a fortnight old are clad with a uniform buff-coloured down; their bill is black, their feet yellowish-white, their head and neck nearly naked; and now they resemble young Cormorants, though of a different colour. The wing feathers make their appearance through the down, and are dark brown. The birds in the same nest differ as much in size as those of Cormorants, the largest being almost twice the size of the smallest. At this age they are in the habit of raising themselves by placing their bills on the upper part of the nest, or over a branch if convenient, and drawing themselves up by their jaws, which on such occasions they open very widely. This habit is continued by young birds whilst in confinement, and was also observed in the Cormorant, Phalacrocorax Carbo, the young of which assisted themselves with their bills while crawling about on the deck of the Ripley. The action is indeed performed by the Anhinga at all periods of its life. At an early age the young utter a low wheezing call, and at times some cries resembling those of the young of the smaller species of Herons. From birth they are fed by regurgitation, which one might suppose an irksome task to the parent birds, as during the act they open their wings and raise their tails. I have not been able to ascertain the period of incubation, but am sure that the male and the female sit alternately, the latter however remaining much longer on the nest. Young Anhingas when approached while in the nest cling tenaciously to it, until seized, and if thrown down, they merely float on the water, and are easily captured. On the contrary, the young Florida Cormorants throw themselves into the water, and dive at once.

When they are three weeks old, the quills and tail-feathers grow rapidly, but continue of the same dark-brown colour, and so remain until they are able to fly, when they leave the nest, although they still present a singular motley appearance, the breast and back being buff-coloured, while the wings and tail are nearly black. After the feathers of the wings and tail are nearly fully developed, those of the sides of the body and breast become visible through the down, and the bird appears more curiously mottled than before. The young male now assumes the colour of the adult female, which it retains until the beginning of October, when the breast becomes streaked with dusky; white spots shew themselves on the back, the black of which becomes more intense, and the crimpings on the two middle feathers of the tail, which have been more or less apparent from the first, are now perfect. By the middle of February, the male is in full plumage, but the eyes have not yet acquired their full colour, being only of a dull reddish-orange. In this respect also two differences are observed between the Anhinga and the Cormorants. The first is the rapid progress of the Anhinga towards maturity of plumage, the other the retaining of its complete dress through the whole of its life, no change taking place in its colours at each successive moult. The Cormorants, on the contrary, take three or four years to attain their full dress of the love season, which lasts only during that period of excitement. The progress of the plumage in the female Anhinga is as rapid as in the male, and the tints also remain unaltered through each successive moult.

Like all other carnivorous and piscivorous birds, the Anhinga can remain days and nights without food, apparently without being much incommoded. When overtaken on being wounded, and especially if brought to the ground, it seems to regard its enemies without fear. On several occasions of this kind, I have seen it watch my approach, or that of my dog, standing as erect as it could under the pain of its wounds, with its head drawn back, its bill open, and its throat swelled with anger until, when at a sure distance, it would dart its head forward and give a severe wound. One which had thus struck at my dog’s nose, hung to it until dragged to my feet over a space of thirty paces. When seized by the neck, they scratch severely with their sharp claws, and beat their wings about you with much more vigour than you would suppose they could possess. Having witnessed the singular means employed by this bird in making its escape on sudden emergencies, I will here relate an instance, which evinces a kind of reason. Whilst ascending the St John’s river in East Florida, along with Captain Piercy of the U. S. Navy, our boat was rowed into a circular basin of clear shallow water, having a sandy bottom; such places being found occasionally in that country, produced by the flowing of springs from the more elevated sandy parts into the muddy rivers and lakes. We entered the cove by passing between the branches of low trees, overhung by others of great height. The first object that attracted my attention was a female Anhinga perched on the opposite side of the cove, and, as I did not wish that it should be shot, we merely advanced towards it, when it began to throw its head about, and watch our motions. The place was small, and the enclosing trees high. Though it might have flown upwards and escaped, it remained perched, but evidently perturbed and apprehensive of danger. When the boat was at a short distance, however, it suddenly threw itself backward, cutting a somerset as it were, and, covered by the branches, darted straight through the tangled forest, and was soon out of sight. Never before nor since have I seen or heard of Anhingas flying through the woods.

For the following description of the Snake-bird’s breeding grounds, a few miles distant from Charleston in South Carolina, I am indebted to my friend John Bachman:—“On the 28th of June 1837, accompanied by Dr Wilson, Dr Drayton, and William Ramsay, Esq., I went to Chisholm Pond, about seven miles from the city, for the purpose of seeing the Anhingas while breeding. The day was fine, and in about an hour our horses brought us to the margin of the swamp. We soon discovered a bird flying over us, and making for the upper part of the pond toward a retired place, rendered almost inaccessible in consequence of its being a morass overgrown with vines and rushes. As there was no other way of examining their locality but by water, we hauled ashore a small leaky canoe which we found in the pond, caulked it in the best manner we could, so as to render it not unsafe, although after all we could do to it, we found it still very leaky. It proved uncomfortable enough, and could hold only two persons. So it was agreed that I should proceed in it, accompanied by a servant, who understood well how to paddle it.

“The pond is artificial, and such as in this country is called a “Reserve.” It is situated at the upper part of rice fields, and is intended to preserve water sufficient, when needed, to irrigate and overflow the rice. It is studded with small islands, covered by a thick growth of a small species of Laurel (Laurus geniculata) and the Black Willow (Salix nigra), all entangled by various species of Smilax and other plants. These were at the time covered with Herons’ nests of several kinds. Farther on the Night Herons also had formed a city. As I proceeded onwards in my search I found the difficulties increasing. The water became shallow, the mire deeper and softer, and the boat required the best of management to be propelled along, for now it was retarded by rushes and vines. Enormous live oaks and cypress trees reared their majestic branches towards the pure sky above, covered as they were with dangling masses of Spanish moss, reaching to the very surface of the water, and turning day into night. Alligators of great size wallowed in the mire, or were heard to plunge into it, from the many logs which ever and anon intercepted my progress, while terrapins, snakes, and other reptiles swarmed around. My situation was thus not altogether so very pleasant, and the less so as it was necessary for me to destroy as many musquitoes as possible, and guard against being upset in such a truly “dismal swamp.” We moved extremely slowly, yet advanced, and at last, having reached an open space where the trees were of small size and height, I espied the nest of the Anhinga before me! The female was sitting on it, but on our coming nearer she raised herself by her bill to a branch about one foot above, and there stood with outstretched neck, like a statue. It was cruel thus to disturb her in her own peaceful solitude; but naturalists, alas! seldom consider this long, when the object of their pursuit is in their view and almost within their grasp. Being now within twenty yards of the innocent and interesting creature, I pointed my short rifle towards her, and immediately fired; but the unsteadiness of the canoe, and perhaps that of a hand not accustomed to this weapon, saved her life. She remained in her statue-like posture, the rifle was reloaded, and thrice fired, without touching her; but at last a bullet having cut through the branch on which she stood, she spread her dark pinions, and launching into the air, was soon beyond the reach of my eyes, and I trust of further danger.”

The same kind friend having procured eggs and young of this interesting bird, I will present you with his observations respecting them. He writes thus:—“I brought home three young Snake-birds, two of which I immediately undertook to raise and domesticate, entrusting the third to the care of one of our mutual friends. I found no difficulty in rearing one of them. The other, by neglect of my servant, died a few weeks afterwards, during a short personal absence. Whilst these two birds were yet in the same cage, it was curious indeed to see the smaller one when hungry incessantly trying to force its bill into the mouth and throat of the other, which, after being thus teased for a short time, would open its mouth to suffer the little one to thrust its whole head down the throat of its brother, from which it would receive the fish that the latter had previously swallowed. In this singular manner did the larger bird, which after awhile proved to be a male, continue to act as if the foster-parent of his little sister, which indeed seemed to be thrown upon his protection. The one still in my possession is fed on fish, which it picks up, tosses a few times in the air, and swallows at the first convenient opportunity, that is when the fish falls towards its mouth head foremost. At the onset, when the fish was large, I had it cut into pieces, thinking that the apparent slenderness of the bird’s neck could not expand enough to swallow it whole; but I soon ascertained that this was unnecessary. Fish three times the size of the neck were tossed in the expanded jaws and gobbled at once, and immediately after, the bird would come to my feet, clicking its bill in such an unequivocal manner that I never failed to give it more. My pet was tame from the beginning of its captivity, and followed me about the house, the yard, and garden, until I thought it quite troublesome in consequence of its peculiar attachment to me. The one given to our friend was fed on fish and raw beef; but although it grew to its full size, never seemed to thrive as well as the one I had, and finally died of an affection causing spasms. This was a female, and although less bright in colour than the adult of the same sex, the two middle feathers of her tail were partially crimped, and her markings were the same. While in the young state I frequently carried it to a pond, believing that it would relish the water, and would improve in health; but I invariably found it to scramble towards the shore as soon as possible, as if dreading the element in which it was by nature destined to live. When thrown into the pond, it usually dived at once, but the next instant arose to the surface, and swam with all the buoyancy of a common duck. It is a fearless bird, keeping at bay the hens and turkeys in the yard, and never sparing any dog that chances to pass by it, dealing blows right and left with its sharp bill, and occasionally placing itself at the trough where they are fed, to prevent them from taking a morsel of food till he has tantalized them sufficiently, when he leaves them to share whatever he does not himself relish.