Part 21
I add a few particulars of some which I kept from early age. I shot a young one on the 2nd of September, breaking the tarsus; and about a week afterwards another was brought me which may have been rather older. The former appeared not to have finally left the nest. Both were exceedingly ugly; long-necked, thin-bodied, the head not well rounded, the fleshy part of the beak prominent, and its base unfeathered. The whole plumage was blackish ash-coloured, each feather slightly tipped with paler, and the feathers of the head terminating in little curled grey filaments, which added to the uncouth appearance of the birds. In a week or two I perceived these filaments were gradually disappearing, and about the beginning of October the small feathers began to clothe the base of the beak: these feathers were greyish-white, and at the same time the grey hue was beginning to spread up the forehead, I believe by the dropping of the black feathers, and their immediate replacement by the white ones. About this time also the general plumage began to assume the blue hue of the adult, in patches; and on the 12th of October, I first observed the beautiful iridescent feathers of the neck, but as yet only on one side. These notes refer to the elder; the other was about two weeks more backward. On the 16th, I first heard it coo; for some time it had now and then uttered a single note, but on this day it gave the whole _Sary̆-coat-blūe_, but short, and in a low tone; and that only once. By the end of November the white had spread over the whole crown as in the adult, but was not yet so pure or so smooth. A third, which I purchased in November, though a young one of the season, having been reared from the nest, was much more mature both in plumage and size. By the end of that month the crown of this one was _perfectly_ in the adult plumage, the neck feathers complete on both sides, the body plump and smooth. This individual, when first put into the cage, was very cross, pecking at all the others, including some Pea-doves, whenever they came near him, and even stretching himself down from his perch to reach them as they walked under him. One or two of the Pea-doves suffered particularly, for he munched out their feathers by mouthfuls, laying bare a large portion of their backs. He soon became more reconciled, but never associated with them, never descending from his perch all day, except to feed or drink. The other Bald-pates walked about a good deal with the Pea-doves, and were rather playful. Any new object they would examine and lay hold of. Their cage, a capacious packing-box, was lined with paper; somehow or other, a bit of it was torn up; the Bald-pates were continually pulling at this, and were not content till they had stripped off a large space. A hole in the gauze front had been darned with thread; they would take the loose ends in their beaks and tug at them. Sometimes they would seize a stick or twig, and drag it about the cage. A White-belly, taken in a springe, and put with them, would not eat the Indian corn, with which they were fed, and was supplied with orange-pips: the Bald-pate would run up to the White-belly when feeding, and playfully endeavour to snatch the pips from him as he picked them up; when, however, he succeeded in getting possession of one, he immediately dropped it: it was only the fun he wanted. If I inserted my finger through the gauze, he would seize it with his beak, and, as it were, _chew_ it, and tug at it in various directions, turning, and sometimes quite inverting, his head. He would always take a grain of corn from my hand, even if he did not eat it.
Towards the end of the year, all of my Bald-pates used to coo frequently, and, what is strange, often in the night. When wakeful from sickness, I have heard it from the adjoining room at intervals, four or five times during the night: especially on those nights in January, when the furious _norths_ blow with so much violence; the bird probably awakened or made uncomfortable by the cold and howling gusts that penetrate every room, as if they would “blow the house out of the windows.” On each occasion the whole set of syllables was repeated twice or thrice in quick succession, preceded by a low note, and then the former silence was maintained. The imitation of their coo, which may be very accurately effected, always attracted attention from the birds, manifested by their eyes turned towards the sound, and their necks stretched out.
WHITEWING DOVE.[88]
(_Lapwing._)
_Turtur leucopterus._
_Columba leucoptera_, +Linn.+—Edw. 76. _Zenaida leucoptera_, +G. R. Gray+.
[88] Length 12¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 19, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 4¹⁄₂, rictus 1, tarsus 1, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀. Irides bright orange; feet lake-red; beak black; lores and eyelids light blue. Upper parts dusky umber, the crown, hind-head, and nape suffused with purple; loins and tail-coverts blue-grey, the latter tipped with umber. Wing-quills blue-black, the first four narrowly edged, the secondaries tipped, with white, primary-coverts and winglet black; greater and middle secondary-coverts pure white with grey bases, forming a broad band from shoulder to hind angle. Uropygials umber, tail-feathers grey with broad bluish-white tips, the grey becoming black at its termination, and ending abruptly: the white is more pure, and the grey nearly black on the under surface. Neck, throat, and breast pale umber, glossed on the side with green, crimson, and gold reflections; a spot of deep-blue under the ear; belly, sides, and under tail-coverts greyish white. Sexes alike. Intestine 41 inches: no cæcum.
This is a Turtle of much elegance. Its general aspect resembles that of the Pea-dove, but its colour is less warm, and its figure less plump. The singular white band on the wing is at any distance a sufficient distinctive mark. It is the only gregarious Dove we have; for the small companies of the Ground Dove can hardly entitle it to be so called: the Whitewing, however, associates in flocks of twenty or thirty, which, when removing, fly in a body, as do tame Pigeons. In the early months of the year, when the physic-nut (_Jatropha curcas_) is ripening, and oranges come in, the Whitewing becomes plentiful in open pastures, and the low woods in the neighbourhood of habitations; the seeds of these fruits, and the castor-oil nut, forming the principal part of their food. At this time they are very easily shot, as they walk about on the ground. They are also taken very readily in springes, and in traps called _calambans_, baited with orange seeds. Sometimes when the foot is caught in the springe, the bird will remain very quietly; at others it struggles much, so as almost to be deplumed: cats often find them, and leave little but feathers to the owner. Occasionally the bird is caught by the neck, and I have been told of an instance, in which a Whitewing taken thus, flying with impetuosity on the alarm, cut its head absolutely off with the string, the body falling one way and the head another. From the ease with which they are procured, they are a good deal eaten, though seldom fat, and rather subject to be bitter.
When the rains fall, we see the Whitewings but seldom; they betake themselves to the deep woods and impenetrable morasses, when their presence is indicated by their loud stammering coo. The full coo consists of more notes than that of any other of our Doves; rendered into negro-English, it runs thus: “_Since poor Gilpin die, cow-head spoil_,” the last note protracted and falling meaningly. This, however, is not uttered, as far as my experience goes, when coming out into “the open” to feed. Two which I had with other Doves, caged, were usually silent; but in Mr. Hill’s larger collection, the Whitewings were most pertinaciously vociferous. All the day long, the four-fold coo, “_two bits for two_” or “_what’s that to you?_” loud and vehement, saluted our ears. Sometimes it was replaced by a sort of chorus, more musical, “_toora-loora, toora-loora_.” The other Doves cooed occasionally, but the Whitewings incessantly.
The food of this Pigeon, when retired from view, I am not acquainted with; it is probably the seeds and berries which supply its congeners. The seed of the sour-sop is perhaps agreeable to it, for one of my lads once caught a Whitewing by bird-lime set for Blue Quits at a ripe sour-sop. Farinaceous and pulpy berries are found in the woods at all seasons, so that the Pigeons and other frugivorous birds have not only abundance but variety. Its nest is not very often met with. I am informed that it occasionally builds in a pimento; Robinson says that it builds also in the orange, and sea-side grape, in May, a very slight and narrow platform of rude twigs, and lays two eggs, of a pale drab hue.
The general form, the shortness of the tarsus, the length of the tail, and its manners, associate this species rather with the arboreal than the terrestrial Doves. It, however, approaches the latter. Those which I kept in a cage, habitually rested on the highest perches, while the Pea-doves generally rested on the floor.
The Whitewing is swift and strong on the wing; but its flight is not accompanied with that peculiar whistling, produced by the wings of the Pea-dove.
PEA-DOVE.[89]
(_Zenaida Pigeon._—+Bon.+)
_Zenaida amabilis._
_Columba Zenaida_, +Bonap.+—Aud. pl. 162. _Zenaida amabilis_, Ibid.
[89] Length 11¹⁄₄ inches, expanse 19¹⁄₄, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 4, rictus 1, tarsus 1¹⁄₁₀, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀.
The open pastures, or the grassy glades of pimento pens, are the favourite haunts of this pretty Dove, where it walks on the ground singly or in pairs. In such open situations, it can discover, and mark the motions of an intruder, and long before he is within gun-range it is upon the wing. Few birds are more difficult of approach, unless the intervention of a wall or a thick bush permit a concealed access. Its flight is rapid and forcible, and performed with a peculiar whistling of the wings, by which it is at once recognised, though unseen.
The Pea-dove is frequently seen in the middle of dusty high-roads, but whether they resort thither for the purpose of dusting, or to procure gravel, I cannot say, as they usually fly as soon as seen. When the rains have ceased, the increasing drought renders these, as it does many other birds, more familiar; and they may be seen lingering on the borders of streams and ponds. Indeed they seem, of all our Doves, to haunt most the vicinity of water; particularly those dreary swamps or morasses which are environed by tall woods of mangrove. In the winter months, when the pastures are burnt up with drought, we may hear all day long their plaintive cooing, proceeding from these sombre groves, though it is not much heard in any other situation. The coo consists of five deliberate notes, loud but mournful, “_Sary-coat-true-blue_,” all in the same tone, save the second, which is short and elevated. It resembles the note of the Carolina Dove.
The Pea-dove subsists on various fruits and seeds: pimento-berries, orange-pips, sop-seeds, castor-oil nuts, physic-nuts, maize, and the smaller seeds of pasture weeds are some of his resources. His flesh is white and juicy, and when in good condition is in general estimation. His form is plump, and his plumage beautifully smooth; though its colours are sober, they are chaste and pleasing; and the aspect of his countenance, with his dark liquid eye, is remarkably engaging.
I kept several of these birds in a cage for nearly a year, but they were too timid to be interesting in confinement. They could not bear any approach to them, without fluttering violently. They were very restless, walking rapidly about the cage-floor all day long, invariably walking over each other, rather than deviating from their course. Only one or two habitually perched. The Pea-dove has the habit of jerking the head by quickly shortening, and then lengthening the neck, immediately and invariably followed by a flirt upward of the tail; this action my captives were perpetually performing at intervals of a few seconds, when not walking. They slept on the floor of the cage, but were extremely wakeful. I have many times crept silently into the room at various hours of the night, taking off my shoes and moving with extreme caution, but always found them wide-awake; perhaps sensible of the light of the candle, even when the eyes were closed. My servant, however, found them asleep very early one morning, when they awoke with a start: the head was not behind the wing.
They were jealous of other birds, and, notwithstanding their gentle physiognomy, irritable and pugnacious. A Cashew bird that was a fellow-prisoner, they would strike at with the wing, and even if I myself suddenly approached, the wing was raised in defence. They were spiteful towards an unoffending Kildeer Plover, pecking at him so violently as to pull the feathers from his side, and make him cry out. I fed them with maize.
I have now in my possession a Pea-dove, shot by Sam in December, the lower mandible of which is distorted by the point being turned on one side, so that the mandibles cross as in the Cross-bill. The tips, however, could be brought into contact. It was shabby in plumage, and in very poor condition, the cause of which was obvious, for, open the plumage of the under parts wherever I would, the body was swarming with lice (_Nirmus_); and _a large proportion_ of the body feathers were crowded with nits to such a degree, that _on one feather_ which I placed under a lens I counted upwards of 170; and there were other feathers more crowded than this. I judged it to be a moderate estimate, that on this unfortunate bird there were not less than 500 lice, and 10,000 nits. On one of the thighs, where they were very thick, there was an ulcer. In addition to this, two large bird flies (_Ornithomyia_) flew from the plumage, while I was examining it.
The nest is, as usual, a loose platform of twigs interlaced, with scarcely any hollow, and no leaves; it is often built in an orange, or a pimento, and contains two eggs of a drab hue. Near the end of March we started a Pea-dove from the centre of a lofty Ebby palm (_Elais_) in Mount Edgecumbe; it immediately alighted on the ground just before my lad, and began to tumble about in a grotesque manner, affecting inability to fly. Sam was not to be caught, however; but calling my attention to the circumstance, we began to peer among the fronds of the tree, where we presently discerned the projecting ends of the twigs that constituted her nest, the centre of her fears and anxieties. It was inaccessible, however, when discovered.
GROUND DOVE.[90]
_Chamæpelia passerina._
_Columba passerina_, +Linn.+—Aud. pl. 182. _Chamæpelia passerina_, +Sw.+
[90] Length 6¹⁄₂ inches, expanse 10¹⁄₄, flexure 3¹⁄₄, tail 2⁷⁄₂₀, rictus ⁶⁄₁₀, tarsus ¹³⁄₂₀, middle toe ¹³⁄₂₀. Irides lake-pink; feet pale flesh colour; beak orange, black at the tip; eyelids yellow.
Though it would be scarcely proper to term this little bird gregarious, it is certainly social, being rarely seen alone. In pairs or small companies of three or four, it frequents pastures, on the short turf of which it runs with considerable speed; and is rather loath to take wing, often allowing a person to approach within a few yards. If one fly, however, all fly; but seldom go far; alighting either on the ground again, or on some neighbouring tree of small elevation. As it runs along, the tail is usually erected, which gives it the aspect of a miniature fowl.
I have found the craw full of small seeds of grasses; they also eat the seeds of the _Jatropha_ and of the castor-oil plant, and particularly those of the gamboge-thistle, (_Argemone_,) so common in pastures. They are fond of picking about the beds of shallots and escalions, for minute seeds exposed in the newly-turned earth. They are, therefore, readily taken in springes made of horse-hair; they are more commonly caught by the neck than by the feet, and not seldom, as I am assured, is the neck quite cut off; though I presume the springe in such cases must be of stronger material.
The Ground-dove is numerous all the year round. In March, I observed it particularly abundant on the banks of the Rio Cobre, especially on a flat gravelly bed, partially surrounded by the bending stream near Spanish Town. The boys of the neighbourhood took advantage of the thirsty birds’ resort to the water, by strewing about the spot the seeds of the cockspur, (_Pisonia aculeata_); a burr so adhesive, that if one touch but a feather, it is immovable; a very little struggling entangles other feathers, and the bird is utterly helpless. So firmly tenacious is the hold, that even when the bird is in the hand the seed can be removed only by plucking away each feather it has touched. Many are caught by this singular artifice.
It is very easily deprived of life. I have known one fly into a room, and, striking its head against the ceiling, fall down and die in an instant.
From April to June the low woods resound with the coo of this little Dove. Sometimes it resembles the word _meho?_ in an interrogative tone, loud, querulous, and pertinacious in iteration. At others it is like children calling _whoop_. It is not at all plaintive in its character.
There is a singular projection on the outline of the inner web of the fourth primary, in this genus, and more slightly on that of the fifth. The object of this peculiarity it is not easy to conjecture.
Dr. Robinson, having weighed one, records the weight as one ounce sixteen grains, troy. He mentions also, what I have not seen, that “the irides consist of, first, one ring of yellow, then one of black, a narrower of black, and another of yellow, broader.” (MSS. ii. 97.) Wilson’s description appears to me to have been taken from a preserved skin.
WHITEBELLY.[91]
_Peristera Jamaicensis._
_Columba Jamaicensis_, +Linn.+ _Columba rufaxilla_, +Rich.+ et +Bern.+ _Columba frontalis_, +Temm.+ Pig. 10.
[91] Length 12³⁄₄ inches, expanse 18³⁄₄, flexure 6¹⁄₄, tail 4¹⁄₂, rictus 1, tarsus 1⁵⁄₁₀, middle toe 1²⁄₁₀, outer and inner toes ⁹⁄₁₀. Intestine 30 inches; no cæca. Irides whitish, with a granulated appearance, reddish at the outer edge. Feet crimson. Beak black. Forehead pure white, becoming slate blue on crown; hind-head delicate grey-blue; neck reddish brown, changing to amethyst, the lowest feathers brilliant green and purple. Back, wing-coverts, and uropygials dusky-brown, with slight reflexions. Wing-quills deep brown, the outer edge narrowly white, the basal part of inner webs, chestnut; true tail-feathers blue grey, with white tips. Under parts pure white, tinged with flesh colour on breast: inner surface of wings chestnut. Eyelids bluish, the edges and angles dark lake.
This lovely Pigeon is chiefly confined to the upland districts; where its loud and plaintive cooing makes the woods resound. The negroes delight to ascribe imaginary words to the voices of birds, and indeed for the cooings of many of the pigeons, this requires no great stretch of imagination. The beautiful Whitebelly complains all day, in the sunshine as well as the storm, “Rain-come-wet-me-through!” each syllable uttered with a sobbing separateness, and the last prolonged with such a melancholy fall, as if the poor bird were in the extremity of suffering. But it is the note of health, of joy, of love; the utterance of exuberant animal happiness; a portion of that universal song wherewith “every thing that hath breath may praise the Lord.” The plumage, as usual in this family, is very soft and smooth, the expression of the countenance most engagingly meek and gentle. And it is a gentle bird: I have taken one into my hand, when just caught in a springe, full grown and in its native wildness; and it has nestled comfortably down, and permitted its pretty head and neck to be stroked, without an effort to escape, without a flutter of its wings.
This is one of those species which habitually live on the ground: in unfrequented woods, as well those which are open, as those which are choked with underwood, the Whitebelly walks about singly or in pairs picking up various seeds. About Content, a densely wooded mountain side, it is very numerous in June and July, feeding on sop-seeds, and many are taken in springes. The physic-nut forms a large portion of its food; as well as orange-pips; and fragments of the large seeds of the mango, chewed by hogs. Its flesh is generally esteemed; it is white, juicy, and well-flavoured, without being liable to bitterness.
As it walks to and fro, it frequently flirts the head and tail, but not so markedly as the Pea-dove. If flushed, it betakes itself to a low tree not far off, whence, if unmolested, it is soon down again. Often when seen in the woods, it runs a few yards, and then rises to fly, but as if trusting less to its powers of flight than to those of running, alights again immediately, and runs swiftly off among the bushes. It has no regular roosting-place, often spending the night on a stone, or a log, or a low bush that happens to be near the spot where it was feeding at nightfall. This is not the case with the other Doves.
The aspect and air of the Whitebelly are unlike those of its kindred. Its round head, the prevalence of light hues, and its height upon the legs, contribute to this peculiarity. Essentially a ground-pigeon, its length of tarsus enables it to run with ease and celerity; perhaps more rapidly than any other of the family.
Unlike the tree-doves, the Whitebelly usually builds in rather a low situation; often a logwood, a favourite tree with this, and the Whitewing. If in the large woods, one of moderate height is chosen. The nest consists of a few loose sticks, with some leaves in the centre; the eggs are white.
MOUNTAIN WITCH.[92]
_Geotrygon sylvatica_, +Mihi.+
[92] +Geotrygon.+ _Generic Character._—Beak robust, rather long; both mandibles strongly arched at the tip; nostrils opening far forward. Wings short, and rounded: third quill longest; second and following quills strongly and abruptly sinuated on the outer edge; first quill sickle-shaped, not attenuated. Tail nearly even, short, (viz. less than thrice the length of the tarsus). Tarsus longer than middle toe, unfeathered, covered in front with transverse plates. Inner toe longer than outer; hallux shorter than outer toe. General form stout and plump.
_G. Sylvatica._ Length 12 inches, expanse 19, flexure 6¹⁄₂, tail 4, rictus 1, tarsus 1¹⁄₂, middle toe 1¹⁄₁₀. Irides blood-red; orbits grey, edge of eyelids scarlet; beak reddish-black; feet pale flesh colour, front of tarsi and of toes, pink, claws blackish, small and blunt. Head high and sub-conical; feathers of occiput projecting and overhanging the neck, as if a notch had been cut with scissors; or still more, as if the head were covered with a hood which hung down behind. Forehead blackish grey, softening into a brownish tint behind: below the eye and ear is a large undefined patch of buff; chin of same hue; the rest of head, throat, neck, breast, and belly, bluish-grey; the whole neck richly glossed with pale crimson, changing to brassy-green, especially behind, where the feathers meet in a sharp ridge. Abruptly separated from the neck, a broad belt of dark red extends from each shoulder across the back, reflecting the richest purple. The remainder of back, rump, tail, and wing-secondaries and tertiaries, deep-sea-green, or black, according to the light, glossed with rich purple: on the secondary and primary coverts, the green merges into a dark bistre: primaries bright chestnut, with black shafts and tips. Inner surface of wings, thighs, lower belly, vent and under tail-coverts, chestnut.