No. 35

September, 1909

O

NLY the bold adventurer who has sailed a frail bark westward across three thousand miles of stormy ocean can know the thrill that is transmitted by the heliograph flash of a pair of silvery wings, with the knowledge that land is near. To the westward trans-Atlantic voyager, it is always the Herring Gull that far at sea proclaims the land.

On the wing, this Gull is always beautiful; but never is its plumage quite so silvery, and never are its flight-curves so graceful, as when it greets the tired American who thankfully is sailing toward the Statue of Liberty and Home.

Other birds sometimes met off shore, are the deep-water ducks, particularly the Red-Breasted Merganser, with a bill like the serrated snout of a Gangetic crocodile, and flesh so frankly and rankly fishy that only the most powerful human palate can accept it. The Scoters, or Surf Ducks, once in evidence at sea, now are rarely seen in the waters adjacent to New York. Three hundred years ago, before the dark days of bird slaughter in America, it is reasonably certain that New York Bay attracted immense flocks of web-footed wild-fowl. If the histories of that period do not so record it, then the historians were remiss. We are certain that once inside Sandy Hook, the all-too-succulent Canvasback Duck, and its understudy, the Redhead, "might have been seen," and in fact were seen, by the discerning mariner. But in

*All the Illustrations reproduced with this article are from "THE AMERICAN NATURAL HISTORY," Copyright, 1904, by William T. Hornaday, and appear here by the permission of the publishers, Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons.

an evil moment the baneful eye of the epicure fell upon the savory Canvasback, and he pronounced it the king of table ducks. From that hour, its doom was sealed; and today it is almost a bird of history.

Let us for the moment try to put ourselves in Explorer Hudson's place, and see the birds of the Hudson River and Valley, as he and his men saw them.

Surely on the ponds and streams of Manhattan Island they found the exquisite Wood Duck; for even today an occasional wanderer returns to its old haunts in the Zoological Park! Stated in the form of a proportion, the Wood Duck is to Other Ducks as The Opal is to Other Gems, the most glorious in colors of them all. The Pintail Duck, however, is more beautiful in form. The most graceful yacht that ever floated never was half so exquisitely modeled in hull and stern and bow as this web-footed water fairy.

The Mallard Duck is like charity. It suffereth long, and is kind; so it holds on long after the more sensitive species have been shot out. It will be our last good wild duck to be exterminated by the pot-hunters for the starving millions of wealth,-for whom the fashionable chef feels that he MUST provide game, or be disgraced. In the years that have flown, the quiet bayous of the eastern shore of the Hudson have fed and sheltered untold thousands of lusty "Green-Heads," young and old, and they were the lawful prey of the hungry explorer and pioneer.

A hundred years ago, the Osprey, or FishHawk, bred numerously on the rocky walls of

the Palisades, and then as now paid toll to the Lord of the Air, who also nested there. Even today they are abundant along the Shrewsbury River, south of New York Bay; but the bay itself no longer furnishes good fishing-ground for them.

The Osprey, or Fish-Hawk, is a bird of highly interesting personality. In the first place, it represents a special development for fishing, and in structure it is a sort of connecting link between the Owls and the Falcons. It has legs that are long and muscular, powerful talons, and unusual wing-power. It thinks nothing of dropping a hundred feet straight into ice-cold water, seizing a fish nearly half its own weight, and flying five miles with it. It is doubtful whether any other bird can catch and bear away fish so large in proportion to its own size. I have seen Ospreys flying with fish so largealways carried with the head pointing forward -that the flight of so small a bird with so great a load seemed almost incredible. It is no wonder that a two-pound fish slowly sailing through the air with an Osprey perched upon it offers a temptation so great that an Eagle cannot always resist it; for, like some human beings, the

one thing that an Eagle cannot resist is temp

tation.

The

The nesting habits of the Osprey are extremely interesting. When not disturbed, the bird uses the same nest, year after year, but each year adds substantially to the structure. sticks used are large, and the nest soon reaches a breadth and height out of all proportion to the size of the builder. On Gardiner's Island, at the eastern end of Long Island, the protection afforded the Ospreys nesting there soon rendered the birds so tame and trustful that they nested very low down, and finally upon the ground. Some of the continuous-performance nests constructed on that island are of enormous proportions.

Attempts have been made to colonize Ospreys in the New York Zoological Park, but the birds always flew away and failed to return.

The White-Headed Eagle, or Bald Eagle, still inhabits the Palisades, and may be seen soaring high above the valley of the Hudson.

When you observe a very large dark-colored bird of prey traveling far aloft, with slow and stately sweep of wings that are broad and short and non-vulturine, it is fair to call it an Eagle. If the head and tail have a gleam like frosted

THE CANVAS-BACK DUCK.

silver, then may you know of a verity that the asrial voyager is our national bird in adult plumage. Incidentally, you may also know that it is one of the handsomest of all living birds of prey.

It is now fashionable for young ornithologists to deride our national bird, and besmirch his character, because he exacts tribute of his vassal, the Osprey. But he needs no defense from me, any more than the fires of Vesuvius need a janitor to hold an umbrella over them to keep out the summer rain. Whenever the great American Eagle really needs defenders, three million lusty Americans will rush to volunteer for the campaign.

I think it is true of every continent that the first birds seen by its explorers, who almost invariably make their initial entries by the water routes, are the web-footed birds of sea and

shore, and the feathered fishers of the riverbanks and lakes. We can safely predicate that when Hudson first went ashore from the bosom of his mighty river, he became personally acquainted with the Belted Kingfisher, he of the stem-winding voice, the white collar, and the jaunty cap of blue. It has been gravely stated in print that "Kingfishers are found near streams," and in similar environments may be seen the slow rise and stately flight of the Great Blue Heron; but it is on the marshes that we hear the deep-seated "voice" of the American Bittern. The traditional "boom" of the Bittern looks good on paper; but when it is compared with the real booms of life, it seems very small. Being most happily unfit for food and uncursed with desirable "plumes," the Heron and the Bittern, even though large, still are in our midst; but now there are for

WOOD DUCK.

Male and Female.

eign bird-killers to reckon with, who kill and eat everything wild, from vireos to vultures.

Even yet in spring and fall the weird cry of the uncanny Loon, or Great Northern Diver, is heard occasionally over the upper waters of the Hudson River. In the early days, this bird was a frequent visitor to the Hudson valley, and often nested along the upper waters of the river. Both in form and in habits the Loon is the most remarkable and picturesque feathered inhabitant of the Empire State. It is so much like the giant Penguins of the antarctic regions that it seems as if it once had lived there, but having