The Polythmus Mexicanus and Polythmus Jamaicensis of Brisson, both refer, without doubt, to the present bird. It is le plastron noir of Buffon. Whether Trochilus gramineus of St. Domingo, which has been supposed to represent this species in that sister island, is really any thing more than a variety, I have no means of determining. My valued friend Mr. Hill, in writing to me observes, “Buffon makes his ‘plastron noir’ of Jamaica, common to Brazil and St. Domingo. The compensatory bird in St. Domingo is much more green than Jamaica specimens; i. e., with a less disposition to assume the violet and purple in the changes of light, and with decidedly a less prevalence of what Buffon designates the ‘beau noir velouté.’”
I may add that both the birds alluded to have been familiar to my friend, from personal observation in both islands.
The appellation by which the Mango Humming-bird is familiarly known to the negroes in the colony, is that of “Doctor bird,” which, however, is sometimes applied also to Polytmus. It is thus explained by Mr. Hill:—“In the old time, when costume was more observed than now,—the black livery among the gayer and more brilliant Trochilidæ represented the Doctor. It might with equal propriety have been the parson; but parsons were less known than doctors, in the old times of the colony.”
Though occurring at all seasons, I have not found the Mango abundant at any; it is, indeed, far less common than either Polytmus or Humilis. It affects the lowlands in preference to the mountains, and open places rather than the deep woods; yet it is rarely seen to suck the blossoms of herbs or shrubs, as Humilis does, but like Polytmus hovers around blossoming trees. The bunch of blossom at the summit of the pole-like papaw-tree (Carica papaya) is a favourite resort of this species, particularly at sunset. This habit I observed and took advantage of very soon after my arrival, for there was a fine male papaw tree in profuse bloom close to the door at Bluefields, which the Mango frequented. Wishing to keep these birds in captivity, I watched at the tree one evening with a gauze ring-net in my hand, with which I dashed at one, and though I missed my aim, the attempt so astonished it, that it appeared to have lost its presence of mind, so to speak, flitting hurriedly hither and thither for several seconds before it flew away. The next evening, however, I was more successful. I took my station, and remained quite still, the net being held up close to an inviting bunch of blossom: the Humming-birds came near in their course round the tree, sipped the surrounding blossoms, eyeing the net; hung in the air for a moment in front of the fatal cluster without touching it, and then, arrow-like, darted away. At length one, after surveying the net, passed again round the tree; on approaching it the second time, perceiving the strange object to be still unmoved, he took courage, and began to suck. I quite trembled with hope: in an instant the net was struck, and before I could see anything, the rustling of his confined wings within the gauze told that the little beauty was a captive. I brought him in triumph to the house and caged him; but he was very restless, clinging to the sides and wires, and fluttering violently about. The next morning, having gone out on an excursion for a few hours, I found the poor bird on my return, dying, having beaten himself to death. I never again took this species alive.
The sustenance of the Humming-birds is, I feel assured, derived almost exclusively from insects. That they seek the nectar of flowers I readily admit, and that they will eagerly take dissolved sugar or diluted honey in captivity I also know; but that this would maintain life, or at least vigour, I have great reasons for doubting, which I shall mention in the history of the following species. I have dissected numbers of each of our species, and have invariably found the little stomach distended with a soft black substance, exactly like what we see in the stomachs of the Warblers, which being put into clear water, and examined with a lens, proves to be entirely composed of minute insects. The interior of flowers is almost always inhabited by very small insects, and it is I believe principally to pick out these that the Humming-birds probe the tubular nectaries of blossoms. Wilson has mentioned his having observed the Ruby-throat (T. Colubris) pursuing flies on the wing. I also have witnessed the same thing in our species, many times. I have seen the Mango, just before night fall, fluttering round the top of a tree on which were no blossoms, and from the manner in which it turned hither and thither, while hovering in a perpendicular position, it was manifest that it was catching minute insects. This species when flying often flirts and flutters the tail in a peculiar manner, throwing it in as he hangs perpendicularly in mid air, when the appearance of the broad lustrous feathers, expanded like a fan, is particularly beautiful.
The pugnacity of the Humming-birds has been often spoken of; two of the same species can rarely suck flowers from the same bush without a rencontre. Mango, however, will even drive away another species, which I have never observed the others to do. I once witnessed a combat between two of the present species, which was prosecuted with much pertinacity, and protracted to an unusual length. It was in the month of April, when I was spending a few days at Phœnix Park, near Savanna le Mar, the residence of my kind friend, Aaron Deleon, Esq. In the garden were two trees, of the kind called the Malay apple (Eugenia Malaccensis), one of which was but a yard or two from my window. The genial influence of the spring rains had covered them with a profusion of beautiful blossoms, each consisting of a multitude of crimson stamens, with very minute petals; like bunches of crimson tassels; but the leaf-buds were but just beginning to open. A Mango Humming-bird had, every day, and all day long, been paying his devoirs to these charming blossoms. On the morning to which I allude, another came, and the manœuvres of these two tiny creatures became highly interesting. They chased each other through the labyrinth of twigs and flowers, till, an opportunity occurring, the one would dart with seeming fury upon the other, and then, with a loud rustling of their wings, they would twirl together, round and round, until they nearly came to the earth. It was some time before I could see, with any distinctness, what took place in these tussles; their twirlings were so rapid as to baffle all attempts at discrimination. At length an encounter took place pretty close to me, and I perceived that the beak of the one grasped the beak of the other, and thus fastened, both whirled round and round in their perpendicular descent, the point of contact being the centre of the gyrations, till, when another second would have brought them both on the ground, they separated, and the one chased the other for about a hundred yards, and then returned in triumph to the tree, where, perched on a lofty twig, he chirped monotonously and pertinaciously for some time;—I could not help thinking, in defiance. In a few minutes, however, the banished one returned, and began chirping no less provokingly, which soon brought on another chase, and another tussle. I am persuaded that these were hostile encounters, for one seemed evidently afraid of the other, fleeing when the other pursued, though his indomitable spirit would prompt the chirp of defiance; and, when resting after a battle, I noticed that this one held his beak open, as if panting. Sometimes they would suspend hostilities to suck a few blossoms, but mutual proximity was sure to bring them on again, with the same result. In their tortuous and rapid evolutions, the light from their ruby necks would now and then flash in the sun with gem-like radiance; and as they now and then hovered motionless, the broadly expanded tail,—whose outer feathers are crimson-purple, but when intercepting the sun’s rays transmit orange-coloured light,—added much to their beauty. A little Banana Quit, that was peeping among the blossoms in his own quiet way, seemed now and then to look with surprise on the combatants; but when the one had driven his rival to a longer distance than usual, the victor set upon the unoffending Quit, who soon yielded the point, and retired, humbly enough, to a neighbouring tree. The war, for it was a thorough campaign, a regular succession of battles, lasted fully an hour, and then I was called away from the post of observation. Both of the Humming-birds appeared to be adult males. I have alluded to the preference which different species appear to manifest, for different blossoms; I may add that I have observed Mellisuga humilis come and suck the flowers of a Cashew tree (Anacardium), without noticing those of the Malay apple close by, while Mango seems to despise the former for the latter.
The lustrous glow reflected from the sides of the neck of the adult male, may be unperceived on a careless examination. In such Humming-birds as I have examined, (perhaps in all,) the iridescence of those portions of the plumage that are changeable, is splendid in the ratio of the acuteness of the angle formed by the incident ray and the reflected one. Thus the plumes of the neck of Mango appear to advantage in a room with a single light, only when the beholder stands with his back to the window, and has the bird before him and facing him. Then the perpendicular band down the throat and breast, which seems composed of the richest black velvet, is bounded on each side by a broad band of glowing crimson, mingled with violet. It must be borne in mind, that some of the brilliant hues of Humming-birds are permanent, not changeable colours.
I have never met with the nest of this species; but Sam informed me in June that he had observed one near Morgan’s Bridge, in Westmoreland. It was on a dead tree, and was placed upon a twig, but being full fifteen feet from the ground he could not examine it. He, however, saw the Mango Humming-bird fly out of it, and presently return. A nest, presented to me by my friend Mr. Hill, ticketed as that of Mango, is now before me. It has evidently been constructed to stand upon a horizontal twig, which the bottom has embraced. It is cylindrical externally, the bottom being nearly flat. Its height is 1½ inch; its external diameter a little more; its internal diameter about 1 inch; the hollow, which is a little overhung by the margin, is cup-shaped, about ⁷⁄₈ inch deep. It is composed almost entirely of the down of the gigantic silk-cotton tree, (Eriodendron anfractuosum) intermixed at the bottom with a little true cotton. The sides are tightly banded round with the threads of spiders’ webs, very neatly put on, and the whole exterior is studded with a minute whitish lichen, so profusely as almost entirely to conceal the down, without at all injuring the symmetry of the form. It is a most compact and beautiful little structure.
The down of the cotton-tree is the material ordinarily chosen by all our Humming-birds for the construction of their nests. The tree attains a giant size and diameter, and throws out to a vast distance its horizontal limbs, each equalling in its dimensions an ordinary forest tree. It is one of the few in those tropical islands, which are deciduous: the fierce blasts called “norths,” which prevail in January and February, pouring down from the mountains, quickly lay it bare. I have seen an enormous tree in full foliage, almost leafless in an hour; the leaves filling the air, like flakes of snow in a driving storm. While it is yet denuded, the pods appear at the ends of the branches, resembling green walnuts: these ripen before the leaves bud, and opening, give freedom to a mass of fine silky filamentous down, which is borne away upon the wind. The filaments are so fine, that at this season, April and May, they are imbibed with the air we breathe, being almost impalpable, and are considered to aggravate pulmonary affections. The tufts so scattered, the Humming-birds and others of the feathered tribes, diligently collect, and that not only on the ground. I have been amused to observe a Mango Humming-bird suspending himself in the air, over against a puff of down, which was slowly borne along upon a gentle breeze, picking at it and drawing filaments from it, doubtless with a view to nest-building.