The Audubon Reader (23 page)

In the states of
Louisiana and Mississippi, where these birds are abundant, they arrive in large companies in the beginning of April and are heard uttering a sharp plaintive note. At this period I generally remarked that they came from the westward and have counted upwards of a hundred in the space of an hour passing over me in a direct easterly course. At that season and in the beginning of September, when they all retire from the United States, they are easily approached when they have alighted, being then apparently fatigued and busily engaged in preparing themselves for continuing
their journey by dressing and oiling their feathers. At all other times, however, it is extremely difficult to get near them, as they are generally on wing through the day and at night rest on the highest pines and cypresses bordering the river bluffs, the lakes or the swamps of that district of country.

They always feed on the wing. In calm and warm weather they soar to an immense height, pursuing the large insects called
Mosquito Hawks
[
dragonflies] and performing the most singular evolutions that can be conceived, using their tail with an elegance of motion peculiar to themselves. Their principal food, however, is large grasshoppers, grass caterpillars, small snakes, lizards and frogs. They sweep close over the fields, sometimes seeming to alight for a moment to secure a snake, and holding it fast by the neck, carry it off and devour it in the air. When searching for grasshoppers and caterpillars it is not difficult to approach them under cover of a fence or tree. When one is then killed and falls to the ground the whole flock comes over the dead bird as if intent upon carrying it off. An excellent opportunity is thus afforded of shooting as many as may be wanted, and I have killed several of these Hawks in this manner, firing as fast as I could load my gun.

The
Forked-tailed Hawks are also very fond of frequenting the creeks, which in that country are much encumbered with drifted logs and accumulations of sand, in order to pick up some of the numerous water snakes which lie basking in the sun. At other times they dash along the trunks of trees and snap off the pupae of the locust or that insect itself. Although when on wing they move with a grace and ease which it is impossible to describe, yet on the ground they are scarcely able to walk.

I kept for several days one which had been slightly wounded in the wing. It refused to eat, kept the feathers of the head and rump constantly erect and vomited several times part of the contents of its stomach. It never threw itself on its back nor attempted to strike with its talons unless when taken up by the tip of the wing. It died from inanition, as it constantly refused the food placed before it in profusion and instantly vomited what had been thrust down its throat.

The Swallow-tailed Hawk pairs immediately after its arrival in the southern states, and as its
courtships take place on the wing its
motions are then more beautiful than ever. The
nest is usually placed on the top branches of the tallest oak or pine tree, situated on the margin of a stream or pond. It resembles that of the
Common Crow externally, being formed of dry sticks intermixed with Spanish moss, and is lined with coarse grasses and a few feathers. The
eggs are from four to six, of a greenish-white color with a few irregular blotches of dark brown at the larger end. The male and the female sit alternately, the one feeding the other. The
young are at first covered with buff-colored down. Their next covering exhibits the pure white and black of the old birds but without any of the glossy purplish tints of the latter. The tail, which at first is but slightly forked, becomes more so in a few weeks, and at the approach of autumn exhibits little difference from that of the adult birds. The plumage is completed the first spring. Only one brood is raised in the season. The species leaves the United States in the beginning of September, moving off in flocks which are formed immediately after the breeding-season is over.

Hardly any difference as to external appearance exists between the sexes. They never attack birds or quadrupeds of any species with the view of preying upon them. I never saw one alight on the ground. They secure their prey as they pass closely over it and in so doing sometimes seem to alight, particularly when securing a snake …

[The Swallow-tailed Hawk (Swallow-tailed Kite),
Elanoides forficatus
, appears in Plate 72 of
The Birds of America
.]

This pretty little bird is a visitor of
Louisiana and all the southern districts, where it remains only a very short time. Its arrival in Louisiana may be stated to take place in the beginning of November and its departure in the first days of March. In all the middle states it remains longer. How it comes and how it departs are to me quite unknown. I can only say that, all of a sudden, the hedges of the fields bordering on creeks or swampy places and overgrown with different species of vines, sumac bushes, briars and the taller kinds of grasses appear covered with these birds. They form groups sometimes containing from thirty to fifty individuals and live together in harmony. They are constantly moving up and down among these recesses with frequent jerkings of the tail and uttering a note common to the tribe. From the hedges and thickets they issue one by one in quick succession and ramble to the distance of eight or ten yards, hopping and scratching, in quest of small seeds, and preserving the utmost silence. When the least noise is heard or alarm given and frequently, as I thought, without any alarm at all, they all fly back to their covert, pushing directly into the very thickest part of it. A moment elapses when they become reassured, and ascending to the highest branches and twigs, open a little concert which, although of short duration, is extremely sweet. There is much plaintive softness in their note which I wish, kind reader, I could describe to you; but this is impossible although it is yet ringing in my ear, as if I were in those very fields where I have so often listened to it with delight. No sooner is their music over than they return to the field and thus continue alternately sallying forth and retreating during the greater part of the day. At the approach of night they utter a sharper and shriller note consisting of a single
twit
repeated in smart succession by the whole group and continuing until the first hooting of some owl frightens them into silence. Yet often during fine nights I have heard the little creatures emit here and there a twit, as if to assure each other that “all’s well.”

During the warmer days they remove partially to the woods but never out of reach of their favorite briar thickets, ascend the tops of hollies or such other trees as are covered with tangled vines and
pick either a berry or a winter grape. Their principal enemies in the daytime are the little
Sparrow Hawk, the
Slate-colored or Sharp-shinned Hawk and above all the
Hen-harrier or
Marsh Hawk. The latter passes over their little coteries with such light wings and so unlooked for that he seldom fails in securing one of them.

No sooner does spring return, when our woods are covered with white blossoms in gay mimicry of the now melted snows and the delighted eye is attracted by the beautiful flowers of the
dogwood tree, than the White-throated Sparrow bids farewell to these parts, not to return till winter. Where it spends the summer I know not, but I should think not within the States.

It is a plump bird, fattening almost to excess whilst in Louisiana, and affords delicious eating, for which purpose many are killed with
blow-guns
. These instruments—should you not have seen them—are prepared by the Indians, who cut the straightest canes, perforating them by forcing a hickory rod through the internal partitions which intersect this species of bamboo, and render them quite smooth within by passing the rod repeatedly through. The cane is then kept perfectly straight and is well dried, after which it is ready for use. Splints of wood, or more frequently of cane, are then worked into tiny arrows, quite sharp at one end, and at the other, instead of being feathered, covered with squirrel hair or other soft substances in the manner of a bottle brush, so as to fill the tube and receive the impulse imparted by a smart puff of breath, which is sufficient to propel such an arrow with force enough to kill a small bird at the distance of eight or ten paces. With these blow-guns or pipes several species of birds are killed in large quantities; and the Indians sometimes procure even squirrels by means of them.

The dogwood, of which I have represented a twig in early spring [in the plate], is a small tree found nearly throughout the Union but generally preferring such lands as with us are called of second quality, although it occasionally makes its appearance in the richest alluvial deposits. Its height seldom exceeds twenty feet or its diameter ten inches. It is scarcely ever straight to any extent, but the wood, being extremely hard and compact, is useful for turning when well dried and free of wind shakes, to which it is rather
liable. Its berries are eaten by various species of birds and especially by our different kinds of
squirrels, all of which shew great partiality to them. Its flowers, although so interesting in early spring, are destitute of odor and of short duration. The bark is used by the inhabitants in decoction as a remedy for intermittent fevers and the berries are employed by the housewife for dyeing black.

[The White-throated Sparrow,
Zonotrichia albicollis
, appears in Plate 8 of
The Birds of America
.]

The Purple Martin makes its appearance in the city of
New Orleans from the 1st to the 9th of February, occasionally a few days earlier than the first of these dates, and is then to be seen gamboling through the air over the city and the river feeding on many sorts of insects which are there found in abundance at that period.

It frequently rears three broods whilst with us. I have had several opportunities at the period of their arrival of seeing prodigious flocks moving over that city or its vicinity at a considerable height, each bird performing circular sweeps as it proceeded for the purpose of procuring food. These flocks were loose and moved either eastward or towards the northwest at a rate not exceeding four miles in the hour, as I walked under one of them with ease for upwards of two miles at that rate on the 4th of February 1821 on the bank of the river below the city, constantly looking up at the birds, to the great astonishment of many passengers who were bent on far different pursuits. My Fahrenheit’s thermometer stood at 68°, the weather being calm and drizzly. This flock extended about a mile and a half in length by a quarter of a mile in breadth. On the 9th of the same month not far above the
Battleground
[of the Battle of New Orleans] I enjoyed another sight of the same kind, although I did not think the flock so numerous.

At the
Falls of the Ohio I have seen Martins as early as the 15th of March arriving in small detached parties of only five or six individuals when the thermometer was as low as 28°, the next day at 45° and again in the same week so low as to cause the death of all the Martins or to render them so incapable of flying as to suffer children to catch them. By the 25th of the same month they are generally plentiful about that neighborhood.

At St. Genevieve in the State of Missouri they seldom arrive before the 10th or 15th of April and sometimes suffer from unexpected returns of frost. At Philadelphia they are first seen about the 10th of April. They reach Boston about the 25th and continue their
migration much farther north as the spring continues to open.

On their return to the Southern states they do not require to wait for warmer days, as in spring, to enable them to proceed and they all leave the above-mentioned districts and places about the
20th of August. They assemble in parties of from fifty to a hundred and fifty about the spires of churches in the cities or on the branches of some large dead tree about the farms for several days before their final departure. From these places they are seen making occasional sorties, uttering a general cry and inclining their course towards the west, flying swiftly for several hundred yards, when suddenly checking themselves in their career they return in easy sailings to the same tree or steeple. They seem to act thus for the purpose of exercising themselves as well as to ascertain the course they are to take and to form the necessary arrangements for enabling the party to encounter the fatigues of their long journey. Whilst alighted during these days of preparation they spend the greater part of the time in dressing and oiling their feathers, cleaning their skins and clearing, as it were, every part of their dress and body from the numerous insects which infest them. They remain on their roosts exposed to the night air, a few only resorting to the boxes where they have been reared, and do not leave them until the sun has traveled an hour or two from the horizon, but continue during the fore part of the morning to plume themselves with great assiduity. At length on the dawn of a calm morning they start with one accord and are seen moving due west or southwest, joining other parties as they proceed until there is formed a flock similar to that which I have described above. Their progress is now much more rapid than in spring and they keep closer together.

It is during these migrations, reader, that the power of
flight possessed by these birds can be best ascertained, and more especially when they encounter a violent storm of wind. They meet the gust and appear to slide along the edges of it as if determined not to lose one inch of what they have gained. The foremost front the storm with pertinacity, ascending or plunging along the skirts of the opposing currents and entering their undulating recesses as if determined to force their way through, while the rest follow close behind, all huddled together into such compact masses as to appear like a black spot. Not a twitter is then to be heard from them by the spectator below; but the instant the farther edge of the current is doubled, they relax their efforts, to refresh themselves, and twitter in united accord as if congratulating each other on the successful issue of the contest.