The Audubon Reader (60 page)

July 5
. John and Lincoln returned at sunset with a
Red-necked Diver and one egg of that bird; they also found Foolish Guillemots whose pebbled nests were placed beneath large rolling stones on the earth and not in fissures; Lincoln thought them a different species, but John did not. They brought some curious
eel, and an
Arctic Tern and saw the tracks of deer and caribou, also otter paths from one pond to another. They saw several Loons and
tolled
them by running towards them hallooing and waving a handkerchief, at which sight and cry the Loon immediately swam towards them until within twenty yards. This
“tolling” is curious and wonderful. Many other species of waterfowl are deceived by these maneuvers, but none so completely as the Loon. Coolidge’s party was fortunate enough to kill a pair of
Ptarmigans, and to secure seven of the young birds hatched yesterday at furthest. They met with these on the dreary, mossy tops of the hills over which we tread daily in search of knowledge. This is the species of
Grouse of which we heard so much at Dennysville [Maine] last autumn, and glad I am that it is a resident bird with us. The
Black-backed Gull was observed trying to catch the young of the Eiders. I drew from four o’clock this morning till three this afternoon; finished a figure of the Red-throated Diver.

Feeling the want of exercise, went off with the captain a few miles to a large, rough island. To tread over the spongy moss of
Labrador is a task beyond conception until tried; at every step the foot sinks in a deep, soft cushion which closes over it and it requires a good deal of exertion to pull it up again. Where this moss happens to be over a marsh, then you sink a couple of feet deep every step you take; to reach a bare rock is delightful and quite a relief. This afternoon I thought the country looked more terrifyingly wild than ever; the dark clouds, casting their shadows on the stupendous masses of rugged rock, lead the imagination into regions impossible to describe.

The
Scoter Ducks, of which I have seen many this day, were partially
molted and could fly only a short distance, and must be either barren or the young bachelors, as I find
parents
in full plumage, convincing me that these former molt earlier than the breeding Ducks. I have observed this strange fact so often now that I shall say no more about it; I have found it in nearly all the species of the birds here. I do not know of any writer on the history of birds having observed this curious fact before. I have now my hands full of work and go to bed delighted that tomorrow I shall draw a
Ptarmigan which I can swear to as being a United States species. I am much fatigued and wet to the very skin, but, oh! we found the nest of a Peregrine Falcon on a tremendous cliff, with a young one about a week old, quite white with down; the parents flew fiercely at our eyes.

July 6
. By dint of hard work and rising at three I have drawn a Red-throated Diver and a young one and nearly finished a Ptarmigan; this afternoon, however, at half-past five, my fingers could no longer hold my pencil and I was forced to abandon my work and go ashore for exercise. The fact is that I am growing old too fast; alas! I feel it—and yet work I will, and may God grant me life to see the last plate of my mammoth work finished. I have heard the
Brown Lark sing many a time this day, both on the wing and whilst sitting on the ground. When on the wing it sings while flying very irregularly in zigzags, up and down, etc.; when on a rock (which it prefers) it stands erect and sings, I think, more clearly. John found the nest of a
White-crowned Bunting with five
eggs; he was creeping through some low bushes after a
Red-necked Diver and accidentally coming upon it, startled the female, which made much noise and complaint. The nest was like the one Lincoln found placed in the moss, under a low bough, and formed of beautiful moss outwardly, dried, fine grass next inside, and exquisitely lined with fibrous roots of a rich yellow color; the eggs are light greenish, slightly sprinkled with reddish-brown, in size about the same as eggs of the
Song Sparrow. This Sparrow is the most abundant in this part of
Labrador. We have seen two
Swamp Sparrows only. We have found two
nests of the Peregrine Falcon placed high on rocky declivities. Coolidge and party shot two
Oyster Catchers; these are becoming plentiful.
Lieutenant Bowen
of the
Gulnare
brought me a Peregrine Falcon and two young of the
Razor-billed Auk, the first hatched we have seen and only two or three days old.

July 7
. Drawing all day; finished the female
Grouse and five young and prepared the male bird. The captain, John and Lincoln went off this afternoon with a view to camp on a bay about ten miles distant. Soon after, we had a change of weather, and for a wonder, bright lightning and something like summer clouds. When fatigued with drawing I went on shore for exercise and saw many pretty flowers, amongst them a flowering
Sea pea, quite rich in color. Dr. Kelly from the
Gulnare
went with me.
Captain Bayfield and Lieutenant Bowen went off this morning on a three weeks’ expedition in open boats, but with tents and more comforts than I have ever enjoyed in hunting excursions. The
mosquitoes quite as numerous as in Louisiana.

July 8
. Rainy, dirty weather, wind east. Was at work at half-past three, but disagreeable indeed is my situation during bad weather. The rain falls on my drawing-paper despite all I can do and even the fog collects and falls in large drops from the rigging on my table; now and then I am obliged to close my skylight, and then may be said to work almost in darkness. Notwithstanding, I finished my cock
Ptarmigan and three more young, and now consider it a handsome large plate. John and party returned, cold, wet and hungry. Shot nothing, camp disagreeable and nothing to relate but that they heard a wolf and found an island with thousands of the
Common Puffin breeding on it. Tomorrow I shall draw the beautiful
Great Northern Diver or Loon in most perfect plumage.

July 9
. The wind east, of course disagreeable; wet and foggy besides. The most wonderful climate in the world. Cold as it is, mosquitoes in profusion, plants blooming by millions, and at every step you tread on such as would be looked upon with pleasure in more temperate climes. I wish I were a better botanist, that I might describe them as I do birds. Dr. Wm. Kelly has given me the list of such plants as he has observed on the coast as far as Macatine Island. I have drawn all day at the Loon, a most difficult bird to imitate. For my part I cannot help smiling at the presumption of some of our authors, who modestly assert that their figures are “up to nature.” May God forgive them, and teach me to
copy
His works;
glad and happy shall I then be. Lincoln and Shattuck brought some freshwater shells from a large pond inland; they saw a large bird which they took for an Owl but which they could not approach; they also caught a
frog but lost it out of their game bag.

July 10
. Could I describe one of these dismal
gales which blow ever and anon over this desolate country, it would in all probability be of interest to one unacquainted with the inclemency of the climate. Nowhere else is the power of the northeast gale, which blows every week on the coast of Labrador, so keenly felt as here. I cannot describe it; all I can say is that whilst we are in as fine and safe a harbor as could be wished for, and completely landlocked all round, so strong does the wind blow and so great its influence on our vessel that her motion will not allow me to draw, and indeed once this day forced me to my berth as well as some others of our party. One would imagine all the powers of Boreas had been put to work to give us a true idea of what his energies can produce even in so snug a harbor. What is felt outside I cannot imagine, but greatly fear that few vessels could ride safely before these horrid blasts that now and then seem strong enough to rend the very rocks asunder. The rain is driven in sheets which seem scarcely to fall on sea or land; I can hardly call it rain, it is rather a mass of water so thick that all objects at any distance from us are lost to sight every three or four minutes, and the waters comb up and beat about us in our rockbound harbor as a newly caged bird does against its imprisoning walls. The Great Black-backed Gull alone is seen floating through the storm, screaming loudly and mournfully as it seeks its prey; not another bird is to be seen abroad; the
Cormorants are all settled in the rocks close to us, the
Guillemots are deep in the fissures, every
Eider Duck lays under the lee of some point, her brood snugly beneath her opened wings, the Loon and the Diver have crawled among the rankest weeds and are patiently waiting for a return of fair weather, the
Grouse is quite hid under the creeping willow, the
Great Gray Owl is perched on the southern declivity of some stupendous rock and the gale continues as if it would never stop.

On rambling about the shores of the numerous bays and inlets of this coast you cannot but observe immense beds of round stone of all sizes, some of very large dimensions, rolled side by side and
piled one upon another many deep, cast there by some great force of nature. I have seen many such places and never without astonishment and awe. If those great boulders are brought from the bottom of the sea and cast hundreds of yards on
shore, this will give some idea of what a gale on the coast of
Labrador can be and what the force of the waves. I tried to finish my drawing of the Loon, but in vain; I covered my paper to protect it from the rain with the exception only of the few inches where I wished to work, and yet that small space was not spared by the drops that fell from the rigging on my table; there is no window and the only light is admitted through hatches.

July 11
. The gale, or hurricane, or whatever else the weather of yesterday was, subsided about midnight, and at sunrise this morning it was quite calm and the horizon fiery red. It soon became cloudy and the wind has been all round the compass. I wished to go a hundred miles farther north, but the captain says I must be contented here, so I shall proceed with my drawings. I began a
Cormorant and two
young, having sent John and Lincoln for them before three this morning; and they procured them in less than half an hour. Many of the young are nearly as large as their parents, and yet have scarcely a feather, but are covered with woolly down of a sooty black. The excursions brought in nothing new. The Shore Lark has become abundant, but the
nest remains still unknown. A tail feather of the
Red-tailed Hawk, young, was found; therefore that species exists here. We are the more surprised that not a Hawk nor an Owl is seen, as we find hundreds of seabirds devoured, the wings only remaining.

July 12
. At this very moment it is blowing another gale from the east, and it has been raining hard ever since the middle of the day. Of course it has been very difficult to draw, but I have finished the Cormorant. John and Lincoln brought in nothing new except the nest and ten
eggs of a
Red-breasted Merganser. The nest was placed near the edge of a very small freshwater pond under the creeping branches of one of this country’s fir-trees, the top of which would be about a foot above ground; it is like the Eider’s nest but smaller and better-fashioned, of weeds and mosses, and warmly lined with down. The eggs are dirty yellow, very smooth-shelled, and look like hen’s eggs, only rather stouter. John lay in wait for
the parent over two hours, but though he saw her glide off the nest, she was too wary to return.

I saw a Black-backed Gull plunge on a Crab as big as my two fists, in about two feet of water, seize it and haul it ashore, where it ate it while I watched it; I could see the Crab torn piece by piece till the shell and legs alone remained. The Gull then flew in a direct line towards her nest, distant about a mile, probably to disgorge her
food in favor of her
young. Our two young Gulls, which we now have had for nearly a month, act just as Vultures would. We throw them a dead Duck or even a dead Gull, and they tear it to pieces, drinking the blood and swallowing the flesh, each constantly trying to rob the other of the piece of flesh which he has torn from the carcass. They do not drink water, but frequently wash the blood off their bills by plunging them in water, and then violently shaking their heads. They are now half fledged.

July 13
. When I rose this morning at half-past three, the wind was northeast, and but little of it. The weather was cloudy and looked bad, as it always does here after a storm. I thought I would spend the day on board the
Gulnare
, and draw at the ground of my Grouse, which I had promised to Dr. Kelly. However, at seven the wind was west and we immediately prepared to leave our fine harbor. By eight we passed the
Gulnare
, bid her officers and crew farewell, beat out of the narrow passage beautifully and proceeded to sea with the hope of reaching the harbor of
Little Macatine, distant forty-three miles; but ere the middle of the day it became calm, then rain, then the wind to the east again and all were seasick as much as ever. I saw a
Jager near the vessel, but of what kind I could not tell—it flew like a Pigeon Hawk, alighting on the water like a Gull, and fed on some
codfish liver which was thrown overboard for it—and some
Petrels, but none came within shot and the sea was too rough to go after them. About a dozen common
Crossbills, and as many
Redpolls, came and perched on our top yards, but I would not have them shot and none were caught. Our young men have been fishing to pass the time and have caught a number of cod.

July 14
. The wind blew cold and sharp from the northeast this morning and we found ourselves within twenty miles of Little Macatine, the sea beating heavily on our bows as we beat to the
windward, tack after tack. At noon it was quite calm, and the wished-for island in sight, but our captain despairs of reaching it today. It looks high and horribly rugged, the highest land we have yet seen. At four o’clock, being about a mile and a half distant, we took the green boat and went off. As we approached, I was surprised to see how small some Ducks looked which flew between us and the rocks, so stupendously high were the rough shores under which our little bark moved along. We doubled the cape and came to the entrance of the Little Macatine harbor, but so small did it appear to me that I doubted if it was the harbor; the shores were terribly wild, fearfully high and rugged, and nothing was heard but the croaking of a pair of
Ravens and their half-grown brood, mingling with the roar of the surf against the rocky ledges which projected everywhere and sent the angry waters foaming into the air.