I have invariably found the stomachs of those thus obtained, quite empty, and as the Frigate-birds assemble on the same trees, I conjecture that the Boobies examined had been compelled to disgorge the prey they had taken, by the assaults of their powerful neighbours: to avoid whose attacks, probably, they took refuge on the trees. As they sit, they frequently utter a loud croaking cackle.
One which was disabled, manifested great ferocity, striking forcibly with the opened beak, endeavouring to pierce with its very acute points, as well as to cut with its keen saw-like edges. It had the sagacity to neglect a stick presented, and strike at the hand that held it; and my fingers could testify to the lacerating power of their formidable weapon.
The tails of all the specimens that fell into my hands, were much worn at the extremity; probably from incubation on the rocks. The use of the very singular pectination of the middle toe, was indicated, by its being choked up in each one with down. The great length of the body in these birds is particularly observable when the integuments are removed. In one specimen, I found lying among the folds of the intestines, a tape-worm, about three feet in length.
The above is the only Sula that we know anything of, about the coast of Westmoreland; but Mr. Hill has identified three others from the Pedro Kays, some of which appear to frequent the little Kays of the coast near Kingston. I believe they are the Sula fiber, or drab-coloured Booby, S. piscator, or White Booby, and S. parva, or Black and white Booby. Of this last Mr. Hill has a pair domesticated, of whose habits he has favoured me with the following pleasing notes.
“The sympathy shewn by gregarious birds for their wounded companions is usually never more strongly manifested than in the Boobies. In the wanton sport of shooting at them when sailing past the kays and islets they resort to, there are few who have not witnessed the extraordinary efforts made by the clamorous flock to assist a wounded bird, when fluttering in the water, and unable to regain the wing. An accident which happened to one of the two Boobies we have in our yard, gave us an opportunity of seeing traits of this feeling, and of its attendant emotions. My little nephew, in chasing with a small whip one of our birds, entangled the lash about its wing, and snapped the arm-bone. The one bird not alone shewed sympathy for the other, but exhibited curiosity about the nature and character of the accident. Our two birds are male and female. The wounded Booby withdrew into a lonely part of the yard, and stood there drooping. The female sought him as soon as she heard his cry of agony, and after ascertaining, by surveying him all round, that the injury was in the wing, proceeded to prevail on him to move the limb, that she might see whether he was really disabled beyond the power of using it for flight. After a quacking honk or two, as a call to do something required of him, the female stretched out one of her wings;—the wounded male imitated her, and, making an effort, moved out, in some sort of way, the wounded member to its full length. He was now required by a corresponding movement to raise it:—he raised the broken arm, but the wing could not be elevated. The curiosity of the female was at a standstill. After a moment’s pause, her wounded companion was persuaded to make another trial at imitation, and to give the wings some three or four good flaps. He followed the given signal, gave the required beats upon the air with so thorough a good will, to meet the wishes of his curious mate, that he twirled the broken wing quite round, and turned it inside out. The mischief was prodigiously increased. It was now necessary to put a stop to this process of investigation of the one bird into the misfortune of the other. I came in just as these exhibitions had occurred, and taking up the bird with its twisted wing, I was obliged after setting the limb, to restrain him from any further gratification of his mate’s curiosity by tying the wing into place, and keeping it so tied, till the bone united. The one now attended the other, and carefully examined, day after day, the broken limb. Calling on him to make an occasional effort to raise the disabled and immovable member, she used her ineffectual endeavours to persuade him to lift it, though tied, by lifting her own from time to time.
“Though this fellow-feeling was so strongly and so remarkably manifested with regard to the broken wing,—when feeding together, the abler female did not hesitate to take advantage of her greater agility, by snatching away from her mate his share of victuals, and grappling with him for one and the same piece of meat. Instinct seems to exhibit simple, not complex emotions. If the male bird had been utterly unable to feed himself, the female would, possibly, herself have supplied him with food:—but, able to eat, the undivided passion was the feeding appetite; and the instinctive habit of striking at the prey, and grabbing it, was not capable of restraint, or of any modification whatever.
“The Booby has an uncontrollable predilection for elevated spots as perching places. If a single stone be higher than others in the yard, the Booby’s eye perceives it, and there he takes up his station, and stands, when he has fed, and is satisfied. If a log or a bundle of wood lie about, he mounts it, and perches upon it to sun himself, extending his wings over his tail, and erecting his dorsal feathers for the admission of the genial beams of morning. He roosts upon similar vantage spots, generally on the tops of the triangular coops in which are kept our fattening poultry. He has great prehensile power with his foot; and his serrated middle-toe is frequently applied to scratch the naked skin about his eyes and face. Our birds are fonder of flesh meats, such as beef and pork, than of fish. They dislike fat, and generally reject it, if it be given separately from the lean. They never drink, and are just as regardless of the water about the yard, as if they had been as unadapted for it, as hens and turkeys.”[131]
[131] The following note I received from my friend, since the above was prepared for the press. “My male Booby died the other day. I found animalcules in the liver. Its anatomy exhibited, in a remarkably interesting manner, the fine adaptation for the purposes of buoyancy, detailed by Professor Owen in the dissection of the kindred Gannet. The muscles showed the air-vessels interspersed among them, in a manner altogether surprising. They had the appearance, as he expresses it, of being dissected. The bird, in the act of expiring, had almost entirely discharged the air from about the chest; but very considerable inflation still subsisted in the thighs. The large femoral muscle might be said to be almost entirely detached from the enveloping integument. The septa of the cells seemed alone to attach it to the adjacent flesh. There was no adhesion, but along one of its edges.” The cells were strongly united to the skin; and the roots of the feathers protruded into the internal cavities, as if they grew out of nothing. The cells must have performed their office with marvellous readiness, for the nerves were easily traceable among them. The air-vessels were like so many colourless bubbles.
“The bird had died during the night by the side of the coop on which they both usually roosted, but without attempting to perch. As I removed the dead bird before the other Booby had quitted its morning roost, it was interesting to see it, under a sense of loneliness, running its head into every opened door, to seek its lost companion.”