Pelicans are distinguished from all other birds by the singular construction of the lower beak, which has a sort of bag attached to it, extending about nine inches down the neck, and may be dilated so as to hold a man's head with ease. This bag the pelican fills with fish, which it either devours itself at its leisure, or with which it feeds its young, and it is supposed that the fable of the pelican feeding its young with blood from its own breast has arisen from this latter circumstance.
Cormorants are often seen on the same cliffs with guillemots and puffins, but they differ from these birds in being able to fly as well as dive; and in being particularly fond of perching on trees. They catch fish in the same way as the pelicans, but the membrane with which their lower bills are furnished is neither so large nor so easily dilated. The cormorants were anciently trained for catching fish in England, a leather thong being tied round the lower part of their necks that they might not swallow the fish they caught; and a similar use is still made of them in China, as will be seen by the following extract from Mr. Fortune's Travels in that country in the years 1843, 1844, and 1845.
"The most singular of all the methods of catching fish in China is that of training and employing a large species of cormorant for this purpose, generally called the fishing cormorant. These are certainly wonderful birds. I have frequently met with them on the canals and lakes in the interior, and had I not seen with my own eyes their extraordinary docility, I should have had great difficulty in bringing my mind to believe what authors have said about them. The first time I saw them was on a canal a few miles from Ning-po. I was then on my way to a celebrated temple in that quarter, where I intended to remain for some time, in order to make collections of objects of natural history in the neighbourhood. When the birds came in sight, I immediately made my boatmen take in our sail, and we remained stationary for some time to observe their proceedings. There were two small boats, each containing one man and about ten or twelve birds. The birds were standing perched on the sides of the little boat, and apparently had just arrived at the fishing-ground, and were about to commence operations. They were now ordered out of the boats by their masters, and so well trained were they, that they went on the water immediately, scattered themselves over the canal, and began to look for fish. They have a beautiful sea-green eye, and, quick as lightning, they see and dive upon the finny tribe, which once caught in the sharp-notched bill of the bird, never, by any possibility, can escape. The cormorant now rises to the surface with the fish in its bill, and the moment he is seen by the Chinaman he is called back to the boat. As docile as a dog, he swims after his master, and allows himself to be pulled into the san-pan, where he disgorges his prey, and again resumes his labours. And, what is more wonderful still, if one of the cormorants gets hold of a fish of a large size, so large that he would have some difficulty in taking it to the boat, some of the others, seeing his dilemma, hasten to his assistance, and with their efforts united capture the animal and haul him off to the boat. Sometimes a bird seemed to get lazy or playful, and swam about without attending to his business; and then the Chinaman, with a long bamboo, which he also used for propelling the boat, struck the water near where the bird was, without, however, hurting him, calling out to him at the same time in an angry tone. Immediately, like the truant schoolboy who neglects his lessons and is found out, the cormorant gives up his play and resumes his labours. A small string is put round the neck of the bird, to prevent him from swallowing the fish which he catches; and great care is taken that this string is placed and fastened so that it will not slip farther down upon his neck and choke it, which otherwise it would be very apt to do."
The snake bird inhabits Brazil and other parts of South America, roosting at night on trees, whence, if any one should approach, it drops suddenly into the water, as if dead, and emerging at a considerable distance, shows only its long slender neck and small head above the surface, which look so much like those of a serpent, that persons not aware of its singular habits would never suppose it possible it could be a bird.
Swans were formerly highly valued in England for the table, and the old cookery-books contain many receipts for cooking them. There are two kinds common in England, the hooper or whistling swan, and the mute swan. The former bred in the Gardens of the Zoological Society in the summer of 1839, and Mr. Yarrell relates a curious occurrence which took place in reference to this brood.—"The cygnets, when only a few days old, were sunning themselves on the margin of one of the islands, close to the deep water. The parent birds were swimming near. A carrion crow made a descent, and struck at one of the cygnets; the old male hooper came to the rescue in an instant, seized the crow with his bill, pulled him into the water, and, in spite of all his buffetings and resistance, held him there till he was dead." The mute swan is remarkable for its grace and majesty on the water, though it is almost as inelegant as a common goose when it is on land. Though swans are comparatively common, there are many particulars relating to them that are not generally known, and several of these have been remarked by Mr. Waterton, whose close observation of nature has thrown light on so many doubtful subjects of natural history. Among other things, Mr. Waterton mentions a peculiarity in the manner in which the domestic swan builds her nest.—"At the time that she lays her first egg, the nest which she has prepared is of a very moderate size; but, as incubation proceeds, we see it increase vastly in height and breadth. Every soft material, such as pieces of grass and fragments of sedges, are laid hold of by the sitting swan as they float within her reach, and are added to the nest. This work of accumulation is performed by her during the entire period of incubation, be the weather wet or dry, settled or unsettled; and it is perfectly astonishing to see with what assiduity she plies her work of aggrandisement to a nest already sufficient in strength and size to answer every end. My swans generally form their nests on an island quite above the reach of a flood, and still the sitting bird never appears satisfied with the quantity of materials which we provide for her nest. I once gave her two huge bundles of oaten straw, and she performed her work of supererogation by applying the whole of it to her nest, already very large, and not exposed to destruction had the weather become ever so rainy." In another place Mr. Waterton mentions, that the domestic swan, when free from molestation, passes by far the greater part of its time out of the water. The swans at Walton Hall, indeed, though they have a noble lake of large extent, are seen continually on the grass, where they pick up small snails and other mollusca, and various kinds of grubs. "Many years ago," observes Mr. Waterton, "I allowed one of my swans the full use of both its wings, and great was the gratification which its aerial evolutions afforded me. Its powers of flight were truly astonishing. It visited all the sheets of water for many miles around; and, being very tame, it would sometimes, on its return home, alight within a few yards of me, as I was standing near the margin of the water. On taking its excursions into the world at large, I would often say to it, in a kindly tone of voice as it flew over my head, 'Qui amat periculum, peribit in illo' as I too clearly foresaw that foes would lie in ambush for it. At last, I missed my rash and pretty favourite. It had taken wing to the westward one fine morning, and that morning was its last. I looked for its return in vain; and every day my hope grew weaker, as my fears increased. Towards the close of the week, I read in the Wakefield paper that a professional gentleman in the neighbouring town of Horbury had succeeded in shooting a magnificent wild swan, which had previously been observed in that quarter. This made me suspect that my poor swan had fallen by that identical shot, for I never saw it more." Towards the close of April, 1844, Mr. Waterton's favourite male swan swallowed a double eel-hook, to which was attached a shank of twisted wire about a foot in length. "It had descended," says Mr. Waterton, "so low into the gullet, and fixed itself so firmly there, that I saw at once we had no chance whatever of extracting it by the mouth. Knowing that death must inevitably ensue if the hook were not removed in due time, and mistrusting my own operating powers on a living bird, I sent over to Wakefield, and requested the immediate attendance of Mr. Bennett, our scientific family-surgeon. We laid open the gullet to the extent of six inches, and we drew out the hook from this frightful aperture. The wound was then closed by suture, and without any other application the bird was turned loose upon its native element; as we judged it would do better there than if put into confinement. The swan, on regaining its liberty, went to the upper part of the lake, far out of sight, and we saw nothing more of it till the following day at noon, when it returned to the house, and ate the bread that was offered to it. After this it was in sight every day, and nobody could perceive that it suffered on account of the operation."
When the young are hatched, it is said that the parent bird will sink herself sufficiently low to bring her back on a level with the water, and the cygnets will get upon it when they are fatigued with swimming, or when the current is too strong for them; and in this way the female swan is frequently seen swimming about, and carrying her young ones on her back.
CHAPTER III. FISHES.
As it has been before observed, that three-fourths of the surface of the globe are covered with water, it is not surprising that this immense space should be peopled with myriads of living creatures, all as admirably adapted to the situations they are destined to fill as the beasts are to the fields, or the birds to the air. Fishes being destined to live constantly in the water, they are furnished with a different breathing apparatus to those animals that are destined to live in the air, and they breathe through gills, beautifully contrived so as to suffer the air to pass freely, and yet to exclude the water. The form of fishes is admirably adapted to force a way through the yielding waters, and they are furnished with fins which act almost like the wings of a bird in aiding their progress. It is obvious, however, that it is impossible for human beings to be so well acquainted with the habits of fishes as they are with those of birds and beasts, as the fish live in a medium not easily penetrated by human eyes; and, indeed, it is supposed that there are many species in the deep waters that have never been seen by human eyes, and are totally unknown. Even of those that have been scientifically described, some species are extremely rare, and of one fish that is known to inhabit the Mediterranean, only two specimens have been caught in upwards of thirty years; and in both cases the fish were found after a violent storm, which seemed to have thrown them up from the deep recesses in which they generally dwell. It was observed, also, that these fishes had large projecting eyes, probably on account of the depth and consequent darkness of their abode at the bottom of the sea.