Hab. South America.
This curious bird has a blackish-brown plumage, glossed with bronze on the upper parts; its total length is about two feet and a half, and the wings, when spread, measure nearly four feet from tip to tip. It has been called “an abnormal relative of the Rails at most,” and in its peculiar flight and many of its habits certainly differs very widely from the Rails.
The beak of this bird is nearly 5 inches long, straight, and of an iron hardness; the tip is slightly bent to one side, the lower mandible somewhat more than the upper. The tongue extends to the extremity of the beak; at the end it is of a horny toughness, and frayed or split into filaments. This beak is a most effective instrument in opening shells; for where mollusks abound the Courlan subsists exclusively on them, so that the margins of the streams which this bird frequents are strewn with innumerable shells lying open and emptied of their contents.
Every shell has an angular piece, half an inch long, broken from the edge of one valve. Mussels and clams close their shells so tightly that it would perhaps be impossible for a bird to insert his beak, however knife-like in shape and hardness, between the valves in order to force them open; therefore I believe the Courlan first feels the shell with his foot whilst wading, then with quick dexterity strikes his beak into it before it closes, and so conveys it to the shore. Otherwise it would be most difficult for the bird to lift the closed shell from the water and to carry it to land; but supposing it could do this, and afterwards succeed in drilling a hole through it with its beak, the hole thus made would have jagged edges and be irregular in shape. But the hole is, as I have said, angular and with a clean edge, showing that the bird had just thrust his beak half an inch or an inch between the valves, then forced them open, breaking the piece out during the process, and probably keeping the shell steady by pressing on it with its feet.
By day the Courlan is a dull bird, concealing itself in dense reed-beds in streams and marshes. When driven up he rises laboriously, the legs dangling down, and mounts vertically to a considerable height. He flies high, the wings curved upward and violently flapped at irregular intervals; descending, he drops suddenly to the earth, the wings motionless, pointing up, and the body swaying from side to side, so that the bird presents the appearance of a falling parachute. On smooth ground he walks faster than a man, striking out his feet in a stately manner and jerking the tail, and runs rapidly ten or twelve yards before rising. At the approach of night he becomes active, uttering long clear piercing cries many times repeated, and heard distinctly two miles away. These cries are most melancholy, and, together with its mourning plumage and recluse habits, have won for the Courlan several pretty vernacular names. He is called the “Lamenting Bird” and the “Crazy Widow,” but is more familiarly known as the “Carau.”
Near sunset the Caraus leave the reed-beds and begin to ascend the streams to visit their favourite fishing-grounds. They are very active at night, retiring again at the approach of morning, and sometimes pass the day perched on trees, but more frequently concealed in dense reed-beds.
As the breeding-season draws near they become exceedingly clamorous, making the marshes resound day and night with their long wailing cries. The nest is built among the rushes, and contains ten or twelve eggs as large as Turkey’s, slightly elliptical, sparsely marked with blotches of pale brown and purple on a dull white ground, the whole egg having a powdered or floury appearance. When the nest is approached the parent birds utter sharp angry notes as they walk about at a distance. The young and old birds live in one flock until the following spring.
The Carau is more nocturnal than the true Rails, and, having a far more powerful flight, takes to wing more readily; in its gestures and motions on the ground it resembles them, but differs strikingly from all Ralline birds in the habit it possesses of flying when disturbed to some open place, where it walks about conspicuously, watching the intruder.
[ Fam. XLV. CARIAMIDÆ or CARIAMAS.]
The Cariamas are another purely Neotropical family of which but two species are known. These peculiar birds, remarkable for their long legs and harsh voices, have been regarded by some authors as allied to the Cranes, and by others as akin to the Secretary-Vulture (Serpentarius), to which they have certainly considerable superficial resemblance. Dr. Burmeister, who has carefully investigated the osteology and anatomy of Cariama cristata, has come to the conclusion that the true place of this somewhat isolated form is near the Storks. But Huxley (P. Z. S. 1867, p. 457) has placed it along with the Cranes, though somewhat doubtful whether it should not rather form an Order apart; and we prefer to follow his decision.