Part 47

This singular animal is found more or less abundant in most parts of the Southern, Western, and Middle States of the Union. It is the _Didelphis virginiana_ of PENNANT, HARLAN, and other authors who have given some account of its habits; but as none of them, so far as I know, have illustrated its propensity to dissimulate, and as I have had opportunities of observing its manners, I trust that a few particulars of its biography will prove amusing.

The opossum is fond of secluding itself during the day, although it by no means confines its predatory rangings to the night. Like many other quadrupeds which feed principally on flesh, it is also both frugivorous and herbivorous, and, when very hard pressed by hunger, it seizes various kinds of insects and reptiles. Its gait, while travelling, and at a time when it supposes itself unobserved, is altogether ambling: in other words, it, like a young foal, moves the two legs of one side forward at once. The Newfoundland dog manifests a similar propensity. Having a constitution as hardy as that of the most northern animals, it stands the coldest weather, and does not hybernate, although its covering of fur and hair may be said to be comparatively scanty even during winter. The defect, however, seems to be compensated by a skin of considerable thickness, and a general subcutaneous layer of fat. Its movements are usually rather slow, and as it walks or ambles along, its curious prehensile tail is carried just above the ground, its rounded ears are directed forward, and at almost every step its pointed nose is applied to the objects beneath it in order to discover what sort of creatures may have crossed its path. Methinks I see one at this moment slowly and cautiously trudging over the melting snows by the side of an unfrequented pond, nosing as it goes for the fare its ravenous appetite prefers. Now it has come upon the fresh track of a grouse or hare, and it raises its snout and snuffs the keen air. At length it has decided on its course, and it speeds onward at the rate of a man’s ordinary walk. It stops and seems at a loss in what direction to go, for the object of its pursuit has either taken a considerable leap, or has cut backwards before the opossum entered its track. It raises itself up, stands for a while on its hind feet, looks around, snuffs the air again, and then proceeds; but now, at the foot of a noble tree, it comes to a full stand. It walks round the base of the huge trunk, over the snow-covered roots, and among them finds an aperture, which it at once enters. Several minutes elapse, when it re-appears, dragging along a squirrel already deprived of life, with which in its mouth it begins to ascend the tree. Slowly it climbs. The first fork does not seem to suit it, for perhaps it thinks it might there be too openly exposed to the view of some wily foe, and so it proceeds, until it gains a cluster of branches intertwined with grape-vines, and there composing itself, it twists its tail round one of the twigs, and with its sharp teeth demolishes the unlucky squirrel, which it holds all the while with its fore paws.

The pleasant days of spring have arrived, and the trees vigorously shoot forth their buds; but the opossum is almost bare, and seems nearly exhausted by hunger. It visits the margins of creeks, and is pleased to see the young frogs, which afford it a tolerable repast. Gradually the poke-berry and the nettle shoot up, and on their tender and juicy stems it gladly feeds. The matin calls of the Wild Turkey Cock delight the ear of the cunning creature, for it well knows that it will soon hear the female, and trace her to her nest, when it will suck the eggs with delight. Travelling through the woods, perhaps on the ground, perhaps aloft, from tree to tree, it hears a cock crow, and its heart swells as it remembers the savoury food on which it regaled itself last summer in the neighbouring farm-yard. With great care, however, it advances, and at last conceals itself in the very hen-house.

Honest farmer! why did you kill so many crows last winter? aye, and ravens too? Well, you have had your own way of it; but now hie to the village and procure a store of ammunition, clean your rusty gun, set your traps, and teach your lazy curs to watch the opossum. There it comes! The sun is scarcely down, but the appetite of the prowler is keen; hear the screams of one of your best chickens that has been seized by him! The cunning beast is off with it, and nothing now can be done, unless you stand there to watch the fox or the owl, now exulting in the thought that you have killed their enemy and your own friend, the poor crow. That precious hen under which you last week placed a dozen eggs or so, is now deprived of them. The opossum, notwithstanding her angry outcries and rufflings of feathers, has removed them one by one; and now, look at the poor bird as she moves across your yard; if not mad, she is at least stupid, for she scratches here and there, calling to her chickens all the while. All this comes from your shooting crows. Had you been more merciful or more prudent, the opossum might have been kept within the woods, where it would have been satisfied with a squirrel, a young hare, the eggs of a Turkey, or the grapes that so profusely adorn the boughs of our forest trees. But I talk to you in vain.

There cannot be a better exemplification of maternal tenderness than the female oppossum. Just peep into that curious sack in which the young are concealed, each attached to a teat. The kind mother not only nourishes them with care, but preserves them from their enemies; she moves with them as the shark does with its progeny, and now, aloft on the tulip tree, she hides among the thick foliage. By the end of two months they begin to shift for themselves; each has been taught its particular lesson, and must now practise it.

But suppose the farmer has surprised an Opossum in the act of killing one of his best fowls. His angry feelings urge him to kick the poor beast, which, conscious of its inability to resist, rolls off like a ball. The more the farmer rages, the more reluctant is the animal to manifest resentment; at last there it lies, not dead, but exhausted, its jaws open, its tongue extended, its eye dimmed; and there it would lie until the bottle-fly should come to deposit its eggs, did not its tormentor at length walk off. “Surely,” says he to himself, “the beast must be dead.” But no, reader, it is only “’possuming,” and no sooner has its enemy withdrawn, than it gradually gets on its legs, and once more makes for the woods.

Once, while descending the Mississippi, in a sluggish flat-bottomed boat, expressly for the purpose of studying those objects of nature more nearly connected with my favourite pursuits, I chanced to meet with two well-grown Opossums, and brought them alive to the “ark.” The poor things were placed on the roof or deck, and were immediately assailed by the crew, when, following their natural instinct, they lay as if quite dead. An experiment was suggested, and both were thrown overboard. On striking the water, and for a few moments after, neither evinced the least disposition to move; but finding their situation desperate, they began to swim towards our uncouth rudder, which was formed of a long slender tree, extending from the middle of the boat thirty feet beyond its stern. They both got upon it, were taken up, and afterwards let loose in their native woods.

In the year 1829, I was in a portion of Lower Louisiana, where the Opossum abounds at all seasons, and having been asked by the President and the Secretary of the Zoological Society of London, to forward live animals of this species to them, I offered a price a little above the common, and soon found myself plentifully supplied, twenty-five having been brought to me. I found them excessively voracious, and not less cowardly. They were put into a large box, with a great quantity of food, and conveyed to a steamer bound for New Orleans. Two days afterwards, I went to the city, to see about sending them off to Europe; but, to my surprise, I found that the old males had destroyed the younger ones, and eaten off their heads, and that only sixteen remained alive. A separate box was purchased for each, and some time after they reached my friends the RATHBONES of Liverpool, who, with their usual attention, sent them off to London, where, on my return, I saw a good number of them in the Zoological Gardens.

This animal is fond of grapes, of which a species now bears its name. Persimons are greedily eaten by it, and in severe weather I have observed it eating lichens. Fowls of every kind, and quadrupeds less powerful than itself, are also its habitual prey.

The flesh of the Opossum resembles that of a young pig, and would perhaps be as highly prized, were it not for the prejudice generally entertained against it. Some “very particular” persons, to my knowledge, have pronounced it excellent eating. After cleaning its body, suspend it for a whole week in the frosty air, for it is not eaten in summer; then place it on a heap of hot wood embers; sprinkle it when cooked with gunpowder; and now tell me, good reader, does it not equal the famed Canvas-back Duck? Should you visit any of our markets, you may see it there in company with the best game.

THE COMMON CORMORANT.

_PHALACROCORAX CARBO_, DUMONT.

PLATE CCLXVI. MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG.

Look at the birds before you, and mark the affectionate glance of the mother, as she stands beside her beloved younglings! I wish you could have witnessed the actions of such groups as I did while in Labrador. Methinks I still see the high rolling billows of the St Lawrence breaking in foaming masses against the huge cliffs, on the shelves of which the Cormorant places its nest. I lie flat on the edge of the precipice some hundred feet above the turbulent waters, and now crawling along with all care, I find myself only a few yards above the spot on which the parent bird and her young are fondling each other, quite unconscious of my being near. How delighted I am to witness their affectionate gratulations, hear their lisping notes, mark the tremulous motions of their expanded throats, and the curious vacillations of their heads and necks! The kind mother gently caresses each alternately with her bill; the little ones draw nearer to her, and, as if anxious to evince their gratitude, rub their heads against hers. How pleasing all this is to me! But at this moment the mother accidentally looks upward, her keen eye has met mine, she utters a croak, spreads her sable wings, and in terror launches into the air, leaving her brood at my mercy. Far and near, above and beneath me, the anxious parent passes and repasses; her flight is now unnatural, and she seems crippled, for she would fain perform those actions in the air, which other birds perform on the ground or on the water, in such distressing moments of anxiety for the fate of their beloved young. Her many neighbours, all as suspicious as herself, well understand the meaning of her mode of flight, and one after another take to wing, so that the air is in a manner blackened with them. Some fly far over the waters, others glide along the face of the bold rock, but none that have observed me realight, and how many of those there are I am pretty certain, as the greater number follow in the track of the one most concerned. Meanwhile the little ones, in their great alarm, have crawled into a recess, and there they are huddled together. I have witnessed their pleasures and their terrors, and now, crawling backwards, I leave them to resume their ordinary state of peaceful security.

It was on the 3d of July 1833, about three in the morning, that I had the pleasure of witnessing the scene described above. I was aware before that a colony of Cormorants had nestled on the ledges of the great rocky wall that separated our harbour of Whapatiguan from the waters of the Gulf of St Lawrence. A strong gale had ruffled the sea, and the waves dashed with extreme violence against the rocks, to which circumstance, I believe, was owing my having remained a while unseen and unheard so near the birds, which were not more than four or five yards below me. The mother fondled and nursed her young with all possible tenderness, disgorged some food into the mouth of each, and coaxed them with her bill and wings. The little ones seemed very happy, billed with their mother, and caressed her about the breast. When the parent bird flew off on observing me, the young seemed quite frightened, squatted at once on their broad nest, and then crawled with the aid of their bills until they reached a recess where they remained concealed.

On another occasion, my young friends LINCOLN and COOLEDGE, along with my son, went to the same rocks, for the purpose of bringing me a nest and some of the young Cormorants. They reported that, in one instance, they surprised the parent birds close beneath them, apparently asleep, resting on their rumps in an upright position, with the head thrust under the wing, and that, had they had a noose attached to their poles, they might have secured at least one of them, but that after a few minutes one drew out her head, stretched her neck, and after looking around flew off croaking, so as to alarm all her neighbours.

We saw no nests of this species placed in any other situations than the highest shelves of the precipitous rocks fronting the water and having a southern exposure. No other Cormorants bred on the spots of which this kind had taken possession; but Ravens and Peregrine Falcons were observed to have nests on the same rocks, and in some instances close to them. The nests were formed of a quantity of small dry sticks, matted in a rude manner with a large quantity of weeds and moss, to a thickness of four or five inches in new nests, and in others to that of a foot or more; for we observed that this species, as well as the Double-crested and the Florida Cormorants, repair and enlarge their tenements each season, and return to the same rocks many years in succession, as was shewn by their places of resort remaining whitewashed with excrements through the winter, in which condition we saw them previous to the arrival of the birds that season. The nests varied in breadth according to the space on which they were placed; where there was ample room, they measured at the base from thirty to thirty-six inches in diameter; others were scarcely large enough to hold the young, which nevertheless seemed as contented as their neighbours. On some shelves, eight or ten yards in extent, the nests were crowded together; but more usually they were placed apart on every secure place without any order; none, however, were below a certain height on the rocks, nor were there any on the summit. The nests being covered with filth, were offensive to the eye, and still more so to the nose. The eggs, three or four in number, more frequently the former, average two inches and five-eighths in length, by one inch and three quarters in breadth, the shell of a uniform pale bluish-green colour, mostly coated over with calcareous matter.

The young are at first of a dark purplish livid colour, and have a very uncouth appearance, their legs and feet seeming enormous. In less than a fortnight they become covered on all the upper parts with brownish-black down, but the abdomen remains bare much longer than the rest. They increase rapidly in size, and are fledged in six or seven weeks. Some that were weighed when about a month old, averaged three pounds, and others almost able to fly six pounds, the young of this species, as of most water birds, being much heavier than the parent at the time of leaving the nest. We procured several of different sizes, which we kept on the deck. Whenever a person approached them, they raised their heads, stretched their necks, and opened their bills, so as to expand the skin of the throat, which they made to vibrate, while they uttered a sort of hissing mutter of a very strange character, but resembling that of the young of the Brown Pelican. They crawled sluggishly about, aiding themselves in their progress with their bills, and at all times looked extremely clumsy. They took food very readily, ate a prodigious quantity, certainly more than their own weight each day, and appeared always ready to receive more. When thrown overboard, they swam off under water, like the old birds, with considerable speed, moving their unfledged wings all the while. Some would not rise for twenty or thirty yards, but few went farther under water than that distance, and they were soon fatigued. On one occasion, some half-grown young birds threw themselves from their nest, or were pushed off by their parents while in the agonies of death, they having been shot at. As they passed quickly downwards through the air, they moved their wings with great rapidity, and the instant they reached the water they disappeared beneath the surface.

This Cormorant swims at times with astonishing speed, keeping itself deeply immersed. Now and then, should it apprehend danger, it sinks so far as to shew only the head and neck, in the manner of the Anhinga. When searching for food in clear shallow water, they frequently swim with the rump rather elevated, and the head under, in the manner of the Shoveller Duck on such occasions, as if they were looking for prey on the bottom; but I never observed them act thus when the depth of water exceeded a few yards. They secure their prey by diving and pursuing it under water, with the wings partially extended and employed as paddles, while the tail directs their course, and checks or accelerates their speed. I have observed this in the Florida Cormorant, as well as in the present species. I never saw one while flying plunge after its prey; but I have repeatedly seen them drop from a rock headlong into the sea when shot at for the purpose of observing their actions.

Cormorants, Pelicans, Ducks, and other water birds of various kinds, are, like land birds, at times infested with insects which lodge near the roots of their feathers; and to clear themselves of this vermin, they beat up the water about them by flapping their wings, their feathers being all the while ruffled up, and rub or scratch themselves with their feet and claws, much in the same manner as Turkeys and most land birds act, when scattering up the dry warm earth or sand over them. The water birds after thus cleansing themselves remove, if perchers, and able to fly, to the branches of trees, spread out their wings and tail in the sun, and after a while dress their plumage. Those which are not perchers, or whose wings are too wet, swim to the shores, or to such banks or rocks as are above water, and there perform the same process. The Florida Cormorant is especially addicted to this practice, and dives and plumes itself several times in the day. The Double-crested and the present species, which inhabit colder regions, seem to be satisfied with less frequent trimming, and go through the operation only once a-day, at the warmest period. I never observed any of these birds in their natural free state perform these actions in rainy or even cloudy weather, but have frequently seen Cormorants in a state of captivity do so on small artificial ponds, such as those of the London Zoological Gardens.

When they have landed after cleansing themselves by washing, they usually extend their wings, and flap them for a while, in the manner of young birds of any kind when trying the strength of their wings before leaving the nest. They are extremely regular in returning to the same places to roost, at the approach of night, when hundreds appear to congregate on their way there, as they pass over the different fishing grounds. Those that have no broods, spend the night apart from the rest, standing nearly erect in files on the most elevated shelves, to which they ascend in the manner of some Hawks, when about to perch on any elevated spot. In winter, however, I observed some near Boston roosting singly, and immediately over their fishing places, which are usually the eddies under the projecting points of rocky islands. They are shy and wary at all periods; but when congregated in the day, it is almost impossible to approach them while fishing, for they dive and return to the surface one after another, so that one or more are constantly on the watch, and act as sentinels. It is in general quite useless to pursue one that has been wounded.

The flight of this species is strong, swift, and remarkably sustained. They usually fly in long strings, now and then forming angles, at a moderate elevation in the air. When on the rocks, they stand erect on their rump, with the neck gracefully curved, and resting between the shoulders. You may see them in hundreds, when they look like a crowd of black dominoes. If alarmed, they extend their neck to its full length, and move their head sideways to observe your motions; and if you approach them, they gradually raise and extend their wings, elevate the tail, incline the body forwards, and fly off in silence.

All our Cormorants feed principally on fish of various kinds. When they have seized one that is too large to be swallowed entire, they carry it to the shore, or to the branch of a tree, and there thrash and tear it to pieces. Some fishes which they have swallowed evidently incommode them, and on such occasions I have sometimes seen them shake their heads with great violence, and disgorge the fish, or pass it downwards into the stomach. The young ones which we kept several weeks at Labrador, performed both actions, but generally the first. All the species are expert at tossing up a fish inconveniently caught, a foot or so above their head, and receiving it in their extended gullet, in the same manner as the Frigate Pelican, of which an account will be given in the present volume. Some which I have observed in a domesticated state, were so expert at receiving a fish thrown to them from the distance of several yards, by a sudden and precise movement of the neck and head, as seldom to miss one in a dozen.

The courtship of this species is so similar to that of the Florida Cormorant, that I consider it unnecessary to describe it, as I should merely repeat what has been said with respect to that species. I have seen them act in the same manner, both on the shelves on which the nests were placed, and on the water. They begin to lay about the first of June, on the islands near the Bay of Fundy, about a fortnight later in Labrador, and it is my opinion that the younger birds spend their breeding season in the former places.