Gannet, Gan, Soland, or Solan Goose, (Pelicanus bassanus, Linn.; Le Fou de Bassan, Buff.) s.
The gannet is generally about seven pounds in weight, three feet in length, and six in breadth. The bill is of a pale or lead-coloured blue, six inches long, a little jagged on the edges, strong and straight to the tip, which is inclined a little downwards; the upper bill is furnished with a distinct rib or ridge, running along from the tip nearly to its base, on each side of which it is furrowed, without any visible appearance of nostrils; the tongue is small, and placed far within the mouth, all the inside of which is black; a darkish line passes from the brow over the eyes, which are surrounded with a naked blue skin, and, like those of the owl, are set in the head so as to look nearly straight forward, and the extreme paleness of the irides gives them a keen wild stare. The gape of the mouth is very wide, and seems more lengthened by a slip of naked black skin, which is extended on each side from the corners beyond the cheeks; these features of its countenance, altogether give it the appearance of wearing spectacles. A loose black, bare, dilatable skin, capable of great distension, hung from the blades of the under bill, and extended over the throat, serves it as a pouch to carry provisions to its mate or its young. The body is flat and well clothed with feathers; the neck long; the crown of the head, nape, and, in some specimens, the hinder part of the neck, are of a buff colour; greater quills and bastard wings black, and the rest of the plumage white. The tail is wedge-shaped, and consists of twelve tapering sharp-pointed feathers, the middle ones the longest. The legs and feet are nearly of the same colour and conformation as those of the cormorant, but they are curiously marked by a pea-green stripe, which runs down each shin, and branches off along every one of the toes. The male and female are nearly alike, but the young birds, during the first year, appear as if they were of a distinct species, for their plumage is then of a dusky colour, speckled all over with triangular white spots.
The female makes her nest in the caverns and fissures, or on the ledges of the lowering precipice, as well as on the plain surface of the ground; it is formed of a great quantity of withered grasses and sea-weeds of various kinds, gathered with much labour from the barren soil, or picked up floating about upon the water. She lays three eggs, of a white colour, and somewhat less than those of a goose, although ornithologists assert that she will lay only one egg, if left to herself undisturbed, and that when this egg is taken away she then lays a second, and in like manner a third, which she is generally permitted to hatch, and rear the young one.
The male and female hatch and fish by turns; the fisher returns to the nest with five or six herrings in its gorget, all entire and undigested, which the hatcher pulls out from the throat of its provider, and swallows them, making at the same time a loud noise.
These birds are common on the coasts of Norway and Iceland, and are said to be met with in great numbers about New Holland, and New Zealand; they breed also on the coasts of Newfoundland, and migrate southward along the American shores as far as South Carolina; they are noticed, indeed, by navigators, as being met with, dispersed over both hemispheres, which are probably one great family spread over the whole globe; but their greatest known rendezvous is the Hebrides and other solitary rocky isles of North Britain, where their nests, in the months of May and June, are described as so closely placed together, that it is difficult to walk without treading upon some of them; and it is said that the swarms of the old birds are so prodigious, that when they rise into the air, they stun the ear with their noise, and overshadow the ground like the clouds.
At the small island of Borea, Martin says, “The heavens were darkened by those flying above our heads; their excrements were in such quantity, that they gave a tincture to the sea, and at the same time sullied our boat and clothes.” Besides this small island of Borea, and St. Kila, noticed by Martin, Pennant and other writers mention the isle of Ailsa, in the Frith of Clyde; the Stack of Souliskerry, near the Orkneys; the Skellig Isles, off the coast of Kerry, Ireland; and the Bass Isle, in the Frith of Forth. This last-mentioned isle is farmed out at a considerable rent, for the eggs of the various kinds of water-fowl with which it swarms; and the produce of the solan geese forms a large portion of this rent; for great numbers of their young ones are taken every season, and sold in Edinburgh for about twenty-pence each, where they are esteemed a favourite dish, being generally roasted, and eaten before dinner. On the other bleak and bare isles, the inhabitants, during a great part of the year, depend for their support on these birds and their eggs, which are taken in amazing quantities, and are the principal articles of their food. From the nests placed upon the ground the eggs are easily picked up one after another, in great numbers, as fast as they are laid; but in robbing the nests built in the precipices, chiefly for the sake of the birds, the business wears a very different aspect: there, before the dearly earned booty can be secured, the adventurous fowler, trained to it from his youth, and familiarised to the danger, must first approach the brow of the fearful precipice, to view and to trace his progress on the broken pendent rocks beneath him: over these rocks, which (perhaps a hundred fathoms lower) are dashed by the foaming surge, he is from a prodigious height about to be suspended. After addressing himself in prayer to the Supreme Disposer of events, with a mind prepared for the arduous task, he is let down by a rope, either held fast by his comrades, or fixed into the ground on the summit, with his single cord, his pole-net, his pole-hook, &c.; and thus equipped, he is enabled, in his progress, either to stop, to ascend or descend, as he sees occasion. Sometimes by swinging himself from one ledge to another, with the help of his hook, he mounts upwards, and clambers from place to place; and, at other opportunities, by springing backwards, he can dart himself into the hollow caverns of the projecting rock, which he commonly finds well stored with the objects of his pursuit, whence the plunder, chiefly consisting of the full-grown young birds, is drawn up to the top, or tossed down to the boat at the bottom, according to the situation, or concurring circumstances of time and place. In these hollows he takes his rest, and sometimes remains during the night, especially when they happen to be at such vast and stupendous heights. To others of less magnitude the fowlers commonly climb from the bottom, with the help of their hooked poles only, by which they assist, and push or pull up each other from hold to hold, and in this manner traverse the whole front of the frightful scar. To a feeling mind the very sight of this hazardous employment, in whatever way it is pursued, is painful; for, indeed, it often happens that these adventurous poor men, in this life-taking mode of obtaining their living, slip their hold, are precipitated from one projection to another, with increasing velocity, and fall mangled upon the rocks, or are for ever buried in the abyss beneath.
The sailors sometimes catch these birds by fastening a fresh herring on a floating plank, against which the gannet’s neck is broken, when furiously pouncing on his prey.—Bewick—Martin.
Garganey, (Anas querquedula, Linn.; Le Sarcelle, Buff.) s.