The Audubon Reader (14 page)

In this manner the white perch is caught along the sandy banks of the Ohio from its mouth to its source. In many parts above Louisville some fishers prefer using the trotline, which, however, ought to be placed upon or very little above the bottom of the stream. When this kind of line is employed, its hooks are more frequently baited with mussels than with crayfish, the latter being perhaps not so easily procured there as farther down the stream. Great numbers of perches are also caught in seines, especially during a transient rise of the water. Few persons fish for them with the pole, as they generally prefer following the edges of the sandbars next to deep water. Like all others of its tribe, the white perch is fond of depositing its spawn on gravelly or sandy beds, but rarely at a depth of less than four or five feet. These beds are round and have an elevated margin formed of the sand removed from their center, which is scooped out for two or three inches. The fish, although it generally remains for some days over its treasure, is by no means so careful of it as the little sunny, but starts off at the
least appearance of danger. I have more than once taken considerable pleasure in floating over their beds when the water was sufficiently clear to admit of my seeing both the fish and its place of deposit; but I observed that if the sun was shining, the very sight of the boat’s shadow drove the perches away. I am of opinion that most of them return to the sea about the beginning of November; but of this I am not certain.

The usual length of this fish, which on the Ohio is called the white perch and in the State of New York the growler, is from fifteen to twenty inches. I have, however, seen some considerably larger. The weight varies from a pound and a half to four and even six pounds. For the first six weeks of their arrival in freshwater streams they are in season; the flesh is then white and firm and affords excellent eating; but during the heats of summer they become poor and are seldom very good. Now and then, in the latter days of September, I have eaten some that tasted as well as in spring. One of the most remarkable habits of this fish is that from which it has received the name of growler. When poised in the water close to the bottom of a boat it emits a rough croaking noise somewhat resembling a groan. Whenever this sound is heard under a boat, if the least disturbance is made by knocking on the gunwale or bottom it at once ceases; but is renewed when everything is quiet. It is seldom heard, however, unless in fine calm weather.

The white perch bites at the hook with considerable care and very frequently takes off the bait without being caught. Indeed, it requires a good deal of dexterity to hook it, for if this is not done the first time it touches the bait you rarely succeed afterwards; and I have seen young hands at the game who, in the course of a morning, seldom caught more than one or two, although they lost perhaps twenty crays. But now that I have afforded you some information respecting the habits of the white perch, allow me to say a few words on the subject of its favorite bait.

The cray is certainly not a fish, although usually so styled; but as everyone is acquainted with its form and nature, I shall not inflict on you any disquisition regarding it. It is a handsome crustaceous animal certainly, and its whole tribe I consider as dainties of the first order. To me
Ecrevisses
, whether of fresh or of salt water,
stripped of their coats and blended into a soup or a “gumbo,” have always been most welcome. Boiled or roasted too, they are excellent in my estimation and mayhap in yours. The crayfish of which I here more particularly speak—for I shall not deprive them of their caudal appendage, lest like a basha without his tail, they might seem of less consequence—are found most abundantly swimming, crawling at the bottom or on shore or working at their muddy burrows in all the southern parts of the Union. If I mistake not, we have two species at least, one more an inhabitant of rocky streamlets than the other and that one by far the best, though the other is good too. Both species swim by means of rapid strokes of the tail, which propel them backwards to a considerable distance at each repetition. All that I regret concerning these animals is that they are absolutely little aquatic vultures—or, if you please, crustacea with vulturine habits—for they feed on everything impure that comes in their way when they cannot obtain fresh aliment. However this may be, the crays somehow fall in with this sort of
food, and any person may catch as many as he may wish by fastening a piece of flesh to a line, allowing it to remain under water for a while and drawing it up with care, when with the aid of a hand net he may bring it ashore with
a few!
But although this is a good method of procuring crayfish, it answers only for those that live in running waters. The form of these is delicate, their color a light olive and their motions in the water are very lively. The others are larger, of a dark greenish-brown, less active in the water than on land, although they are most truly amphibious. The first conceal themselves beneath shelving rocks, stones or water plants; the others form a deep burrow in the damp earth, depositing the materials drawn up, as a man would do in digging a well. The manner in which they dispose of the mud you may see by glancing at the plate of the White Ibis in my third volume of illustrations, where also you will find a tolerable portrait of one of these creatures.

According to the nature of the ground, the burrows of this crayfish are more or less deep. Indeed, this also depends partly on the increasing dryness of the soil when influenced by the heat of summer as well as on the texture of the substratum. Thus in some places where the cray can reach the water after working a few inches, it rests contented during the day but crawls out for food at
night. Should it, however, be left dry, it renews its labor; and thus while one burrow may be only five or six inches deep, another may be two or three feet and a third even more. They are easily procured when thus lodged in shallow holes; but when the burrow is deep a thread is used with a small piece of flesh fastened to it. The cray eagerly seizes the bait and is gently drawn up and thrown to a distance, when he becomes an easy prey. You have read of the method used by the White Ibis in procuring crays; and I leave you to judge whether the bird or the man is the best fisher. This species is most abundant round the borders of the stagnant lakes, bayous or ponds of the Southern Districts; and I have seen them caught even in the streets of the suburbs of
New Orleans after a heavy shower. They become a great pest by perforating embankments of all sorts, and many are the maledictions that are uttered against them both by millers and planters, nay even by the overseers of the
levees along the banks of the Mississippi. But they are curious creatures, formed no doubt for useful purposes, and as such they are worthy of your notice.

The Passenger Pigeon, or as it is usually named in America, the Wild Pigeon, moves with extreme rapidity, propelling itself by quickly repeated flaps of the wings, which it brings more or less near to the body according to the degree of velocity which is required. Like the
Domestic Pigeon it often flies during the love season in a circling manner, supporting itself with both wings angularly elevated, in which position it keeps them until it is about to alight. Now and then during these circular
flights the tips of the primary quills of each wing are made to strike against each other, producing a smart rap which may be heard at a distance of thirty or forty yards. Before alighting the Wild Pigeon, like the Carolina Parrot and a few other species of birds, breaks the force of its flight by repeated flappings, as if apprehensive of receiving injury from coming too suddenly into contact with the branch or the spot of ground on which it intends to settle.

I have commenced my description of this species with the above account of its flight because the most important facts connected with its habits relate to its
migrations. These are entirely owing to the necessity of procuring food and are not performed with the view of escaping the severity of a northern latitude or of seeking a southern one for the purpose of breeding. They consequently do not take place at any fixed period or season of the year. Indeed, it sometimes happens that a continuance of a sufficient supply of food in one district will keep these birds absent from another for
years. I know at least, to a certainty, that in Kentucky they remained for several years constantly and were nowhere else to be found. They all suddenly disappeared one season when the mast was exhausted and did not return for a long period. Similar facts have been observed in other states.

Their great power of
flight enables them to survey and pass over an astonishing extent of country in a very short time. This is proved by facts well known in America. Thus, Pigeons have been killed in the neighborhood of New York with their crops full of rice which they must have collected in the fields of Georgia and Carolina, these districts being the nearest in which they could possibly have procured a supply of that kind of food. As their power of digestion is so great that they will decompose food entirely in twelve hours, they must in this case have traveled between three hundred and four hundred miles in six hours, which shews their speed to be at an average about one mile in a minute. A velocity such as this would enable one of these birds, were it so inclined, to visit the European continent in less than three days.

This great power of flight is seconded by as great a power of
vision, which enables them as they travel at that swift rate to inspect the country below, discover their food with facility and thus attain the object for which their journey has been undertaken. This I have also proved to be the case by having observed them, when passing over a sterile part of the country or one scantily furnished with food suited to them, keep high in the air, flying with an extended front so as to enable them to survey hundreds of acres at once. On the contrary, when the land is richly covered with food or the trees abundantly hung with mast they fly low in order to discover the part most plentifully supplied.

Their
body is of an elongated oval form, steered by a long, well-plumed tail and propelled by well-set wings, the muscles of which are very large and powerful for the size of the bird. When an individual is seen gliding through the woods and close to the observer it passes like a thought, and on trying to see it again the eye searches in vain; the bird is gone.

The multitudes of Wild Pigeons in our woods are astonishing. Indeed, after having viewed them so often and under so many circumstances, I even now feel inclined to pause and assure myself
that what I am going to relate is fact. Yet I have seen it all, and that too in the company of persons who, like myself, were struck with amazement.

In the autumn of 1813 I left my house at Henderson, on the banks of the Ohio, on my way to Louisville. In passing over the Barrens a few miles beyond Hardensburgh I observed the Pigeons flying from northeast to southwest in greater numbers than I thought I had ever seen them before, and feeling an inclination to count the flocks that might pass within the reach of my eye in one hour, I dismounted, seated myself on an eminence and began to mark with my pencil, making a dot for every flock that passed. In a short time, finding the task which I had undertaken impracticable, as the birds poured in in countless multitudes, I rose and, counting the dots then put down, found that 163 had been made in twenty-one minutes. I traveled on and still met more the farther I proceeded. The air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noonday was obscured as by an eclipse; the dung fell in spots not unlike melting flakes of snow; and the continued buzz of wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose.

Whilst waiting for dinner at Young’s Inn, at the confluence of
Salt River with the Ohio, I saw at my leisure immense legions still going by, with a front reaching far beyond the Ohio on the west and the beechwood forests directly on the east of me. Not a single bird alighted; for not a nut or acorn was that year to be seen in the neighborhood. They consequently flew so high that different trials to reach them with a capital rifle proved ineffectual; nor did the reports disturb them in the least. I cannot describe to you the extreme beauty of their aerial evolutions when a
Hawk chanced to press upon the rear of a flock. At once, like a torrent, and with a noise like thunder, they rushed into a compact mass, pressing upon each other towards the center. In these almost solid masses they darted forward in undulating and angular lines, descended and swept close over the earth with inconceivable velocity, mounted perpendicularly so as to resemble a vast column and, when high, were seen wheeling and twisting within their continued lines, which then resembled the coils of a gigantic serpent.

Before sunset I reached Louisville, distant from Hardensburgh fifty-five miles. The Pigeons were still passing in undiminished
numbers and continued to do so for three days in succession. The people were all in arms. The banks of the Ohio were crowded with men and boys incessantly shooting at the pilgrims, which there flew lower as they passed the river. Multitudes were thus destroyed. For a week or more, the population fed on no other flesh than that of Pigeons, and talked of nothing but Pigeons. The atmosphere during this time was strongly impregnated with the peculiar odor which emanates from the species.

It is extremely interesting to see flock after flock performing exactly the same evolutions which had been traced as it were in the air by a preceding flock. Thus, should a Hawk have charged on a group at a certain spot, the angles, curves and undulations that have been described by the birds in their efforts to escape from the dreaded talons of the plunderer are undeviatingly followed by the next group that comes up. Should the bystander happen to witness one of these affrays, and struck with the rapidity and elegance of the motions exhibited, feel desirous of seeing them repeated, his wishes will be gratified if he only remain in the place until the next group comes up.