The Audubon Reader (68 page)

Although a comparatively silent bird for three-fourths of the year, the Great Black-backed Gull becomes very noisy at the approach of the breeding season and continues so until the young are well fledged, after which it resumes its silence. Its common notes when it is interrupted or surprised sound like
cack, cack, cack
. While courting, they are softer and more lengthened, and resemble the syllables
cawah
, which are often repeated as it sails in circles or otherwise within view of its mate or its place of abode.

This species walks well, moving firmly and with an air of importance. On the water it swims lightly but slowly, and may soon be overtaken by a boat. It has no power of diving, although at times, when searching for
food along the shores, it will enter the water on seeing a
crab or a lobster to seize it, in which it at times succeeds. I saw one at Labrador plunge after a large crab in about two feet of water when, after a tug, it hauled it ashore, where it devoured it in my sight. I watched its movements with a [spy]glass, and could easily observe how it tore the crab to pieces, swallowed its body, leaving the shell and the claws, after which it flew off to its young and disgorged before them.

It is extremely voracious and devours all sorts of food excepting vegetables, even the most putrid carrion, but prefers fresh fish, young birds or small quadrupeds, whenever they can be procured.
It sucks the eggs of every bird it can find, thus destroying great numbers of them as well as the parents if weak or helpless. I have frequently seen these Gulls attack a flock of young Ducks while swimming beside their mother, when the latter, if small, would have to take to wing, and the former would all dive, but were often caught on rising to the surface, unless they happened to be among rushes. The Eider Duck is the only one of the tribe that risks her life, on such occasions, to save that of her young. She will frequently rise from the water, as her brood disappear beneath, and keep the Gull at bay, or harass it until her little ones are safe under some shelving rocks, when she flies off in another direction, leaving the enemy to digest his disappointment. But while the poor Duck is sitting on her eggs in any open situation, the marauder assails her and forces her off, when he sucks the eggs in her very sight. Young
Grouse are also the prey of this Gull, which chases them over the moss-covered rocks and devours them before their parents. It follows the shoals of fishes for hours at a time and usually with great success. On the coast of Labrador I frequently saw these birds seize
flounders on the edges of the shallows; they often attempted to swallow them whole but, finding this impracticable, removed to some rock, beat them and tore them to pieces. They appear to digest feathers, bones, and other hard substances with ease, seldom disgorging their food unless for the purpose of feeding their young or mates, or when wounded and approached by man, or when pursued by some bird of greater power. While at Boston in Massachusetts one cold winter morning I saw one of these Gulls take up an eel about fifteen or eighteen inches in length from a mud bank. The Gull rose with difficulty, and after some trouble managed to gulp the head of the fish, and flew towards the shore with it, when a
White-headed Eagle made its appearance, and soon overtook the Gull, which reluctantly gave up the eel, on which the Eagle glided towards it and, seizing it with its talons before it reached the water, carried it off.

This Gull is excessively shy and vigilant, so that even at Labrador we found it difficult to procure it, nor did we succeed in obtaining more than about a dozen old birds and that only by stratagem. They watched our movements with so much care as never to fly past a rock behind which one of the party might be likely to lie
concealed. None were shot near the nests when they were sitting on their eggs, and only one female attempted to rescue her young and was shot as she accidentally flew within distance. The time to surprise them was during violent gales, for then they flew close to the tops of the highest rocks, where we took care to conceal ourselves for the purpose. When we approached the rocky islets on which they bred, they left the place as soon as they became aware of our intentions, cackled and barked loudly, and when we returned, followed us at a distance more than a mile.

They begin to molt early in July. In the beginning of August the young were seen searching for food by themselves, and even far apart. By the 12th of that month they had all left Labrador. We saw them afterwards along the coast of Newfoundland and while crossing the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and found them over the bays of Nova Scotia as we proceeded southward. When old, their flesh is tough and unfit for food. Their feathers are elastic and good for pillows and such purposes, but can rarely be procured in sufficient quantity.

The most remarkable circumstance relative to these birds is that they either associate with another species, giving rise to a hybrid brood, or that when very old they lose the dark color of the back, which is then of the same tint as that of the
Larus argentatus
or even lighter. This curious fact was also remarked by the young gentlemen who accompanied me to Labrador; and although it is impossible for me to clear up the doubts that may be naturally entertained on this subject, whichever of the two suppositions is adopted, the fact may yet be established and accounted for by persons who may have better opportunities of watching them and studying their habits. No individuals of
Larus argentatus
were, to my knowledge, seen on that coast during the three months which I passed there, and the fishermen told us that the “saddlebacks were the only large Gulls that ever breed there.”

This bird must be of extraordinary
longevity, as I have seen one that was kept in a state of captivity more than thirty years. The following very interesting account of the habits of a partially
domesticated individual I owe to my esteemed and learned friend Dr. Neill of Edinburgh.

“In the course of the summer of 1818, a ‘big scorie’ [i.e., scaurie,
Orkney and Shetland dialect: the young of any kind of gull] was brought to me by a Newhaven fisher boy, who mentioned that it had been picked up at sea, about the mouth of the Firth of Forth. The bird was not then fully fledged: it was quite uninjured: it quickly learned to feed on potatoes and kitchen refuse, along with some ducks; and it soon became more familiar than they, often peeping in at the kitchen window in hopes of getting a bit of fat meat, which it relished highly. It used to follow my servant Peggy Oliver about the doors, expanding its wings and vociferating for food. After two molts I was agreeably surprised to find it assuming the dark plumage of the back and the shape and color of the bill of the
Larus marinus
, or Great Black-backed Gull; for I had hitherto regarded it as merely a large specimen of the Lesser Black-backed (
L. fuscus
), a pair of which I then possessed, but which had never allowed the newcomer to associate with them. The bird being perfectly
tame, we did not take the precaution of keeping the quills of one wing cut short so as to prevent flight; indeed, as it was often praised as a remarkably large and noble looking Sea-maw [i.e., Sea-mew, a common gull], we did not like to disfigure it. In the winter 1821–2 it got a companion in a Cock-Heron, which had been wounded in Coldinghame Muir, brought to Edinburgh alive and kept for some weeks in a cellar in the old College, and then presented to me by the late Mr.
John Wilson, the janitor, a person remarkably distinguished for his attachment to natural history pursuits. This Heron we succeeded in taming completely, and it still (1835) remains with me, having the whole garden to range in, the trees to roost upon, and access to the loch at pleasure, the loch being the boundary of my garden.

“Some time in the spring of 1822 the large Gull was missing, and we ascertained (in some way that has now escaped my memory) that it had not been stolen nor killed, as we at first supposed, but had taken flight, passing northwards over the village, and had probably therefore gone to sea. Of course I gave up all expectation of ever hearing more of it. It was not without surprise, therefore, that on going home one day in the end of October of that year, I heard my servant calling out with great exultation, ‘Sir, Big Gull is come back!’ I accordingly found him walking about in his old haunts in the garden, in company with and recognizing (as I am
firmly persuaded) his old friend the Heron. He disappeared in the evening, and returned in the morning for several days, when Peggy Oliver thought it best to secure him. He evidently did not like confinement, and it was concerted that he should be allowed his liberty, although he ran much risk of being shot on the millpond by youthful sportsmen from Edinburgh. After this temporary captivity he was more cautious and shy than formerly; but still he made almost daily visits to the garden and picked up herrings or other food laid down for him. In the beginning of March 1823 his visits ceased and we saw no more of him till late in the autumn of that year. These winter visits to Canonmills and summer excursions to the unknown breeding place were continued for years with great uniformity: only I remarked that after the Gull lost his protectress, who died in 1826, he became more distant in his manners. In my notebook under date of 6th October 1829, I find this entry: ‘Old Peggy’s Great Black-backed Gull arrived at the pond this morning, the seventh (or eighth) winter he has regularly returned. He had a scorie with him, which was soon shot on the loch by some cockney sportsman.’ The young bird, doubtless one of his offspring, had its wing shattered, and continued alive in the middle of the pond, occasionally screaming piteously for two or three days, till relieved by death. The old Gull immediately abandoned the place for that winter as if reproaching us for cruelty. By next autumn, however, he seemed to have forgotten the injury, for according to my record, ‘30th October 1830, The Great Black-backed Gull once more arrived at Canonmills garden.’ The periods of arrival, residence and departure were nearly similar in the following year. But in 1832 not only October but the months of November and December passed away without Gull’s making his appearance, and I of course despaired of again seeing him.

“He did, however, at length arrive. The following is the entry in my commonplace book: ‘Sunday, 6th January 1833. This day the Great Black-back returned to the millpond, for (I think) the eleventh season. He used to reappear in October in former years, and I concluded him dead or shot. He recognized my voice and hovered over my head.’ He disappeared early in March as usual, and reappeared at Canonmills on 23rd December 1833, being a fortnight earlier than the date of his arrival in the preceding season,
but six weeks later than the original period of reappearance. He left in the beginning of March as usual, and I find from my notes that he ‘reappeared on 30th December 1834 for the season, first hovering around and then alighting on the pond as in former years.’ The latest entry is, ‘11th March 1835: The Black-backed Gull was here yesterday, but has not been seen today; nor do I expect to see him till November.’

“This Gull has often attracted the attention of persons passing the village of Canonmills, by reason of its sweeping along so low or near the ground, and on account of the wide expanse of wing which it thus displays. It is well known to the boys of the village as ‘Neill’s Gull’ and has, I am aware, owed its safety more than once to their interference in informing passing sportsmen of its history. When it first arrives in the autumn it is in the regular habit of making many circular sweeps around the pond and garden, at a considerable elevation, as if reconnoitering; it then gradually lowers its flight and gently alights about the center of the pond. Upon the gardener’s mounting the garden-wall with a fish in his hand, the Gull moves towards the overhanging spray of some large willow trees, so as to catch what may be thrown to him, before it sinks in the water. There can be no doubt whatever of the identity of the bird. Indeed, he unequivocally shows that he recognizes my voice when I call aloud ‘Gull, Gull,’ for whether he be on wing or afloat, he immediately approaches me.

“A few pairs of the Great Black-backed Gull breed at the Bass Rock yearly, and it seems highly probable that my specimen had originally been hatched there. If I may be allowed a conjecture, I would suppose that after attaining maturity he for some years resorted to the same spot for the purpose of breeding; but that of late years, having lost his mate or encountered some other disaster, he has extended his migration for that purpose to some very distant locality, which has rendered his return to winter quarters six weeks later than formerly.”

[The Great Black-backed Gull,
Larus marinus
, appears in Plate 241 of
The Birds of America
.]

Charleston, South Carolina

9 January 1834

My dear Thomas,

I now commence without knowing what I am to say, but you must not grumble out, “Why does he write without a reason?” for I have one and you shall have it. It is because I could not ship just opposite to you in a cabin ten feet across for three months without forming an attachment, to say nothing of all our days of fun and of [sea]sickness being spent together during that period; and that is my first reason for keeping up a correspondence. I flatter myself you would give, from your conduct while we were together, much the same answer to a similar question.

Now I am going to give you my selfish reason: I want you to catch and skin for Mr. [John] Bachman, of this place, all the
shrews &
mice and small quadrupeds you can; he will send you in return the same number of animals from this place. Write and let him know your determination on this subject. In the meantime, I don’t mind if I give you a lesson in the art of skinning birds. I have made a great improvement in the art, or trade, whichever you choose to call it, and I hope you will profit by my knowledge on the subject. Turn the page over and be instructed.

You open the birds from a little above the lower end of the breast bone to within half an inch of the parson’s nose or point from which the tail feathers start. You then push up the legs (the knee joint comes out first) and cut the bone just below the knee, which loosens all the nerves, and you may pull it out easily and clean the bones. Then turn them back, because it gives more room. You then pull the skin backwards over the legs, which you cut through and turn it (the skin) over the pope’s nose and then inside out over the head and ears (the wings ought to be broken with a pair of pinchers), close to the body of the bird. You will find that the best mode of performing the operation.