4284 THE ZooLoGist—JANvuARY, 1875. 
The domestication of the cormorant has long been a matter of 
history: the Chinese fishermen enjoy the reputation of being the 
first to employ this familiar bird in piscatorial duties: Montagu 
records lovingly (p. 82) its amiable disposition, and Mr. Salvin, in 
our own day, has revived this mode of fishing in the meadows of 
Surrey. Those who have seen the cormorants fed at the Zoo will 
bear willing testimony to their capabilities. Still, notwithstanding 
the prowess of the cormorant has become somewhat of a thrice-told 
tale, Dr. Saxby has found something new to tell us respecting him— 
something one cannot read without pleasure and instruction. ‘There 
are certainly some disagreeable characters to be discovered in the 
cormorant, but these disappear, or are greatly modified on better 
acquaintance. It is true the smell of their breeding-stations is 
anything but satisfactory, and certain inevitable concomitants of 
skinning these birds for preservation are decidedly objectionable, 
but when one is really acquainted with cormorants under happier 
auspices, as Montagu, Salvin and Saxby have been, we shall find 
much in their character to respect and admire. 
“Some years ago a very young male was taken from one of the North 
Skerries and brought to Halligarth, where he soon became a most interesting 
pet. At first he required careful feeding, for it was some weeks before he 
became aware that opening his bill was the necessary preliminary to every 
meal. He would appear eager for food, and, uttering the usual peculiar ery, 
would strike at whatever was offered him, but with his bill closed, and in 
this manner he would have starved but for human aid. Afterwards he 
caused but little trouble, for when the ducks were fed he would rush boldly 
in among them, and appropriate anything in the shape of fish or flesh that 
happened to suit his fancy, but he would never eat salted food. Sometimes 
also when he saw a boy coming to the house with fish he would waylay him, 
and if no contributions were then offered he would speedily settle the matter 
by helping himself. One day, when food was scarce and he had been fasting 
for many hours, I happened to’ pass by, carrying a number of starlings, one 
of which I tossed at him, but scarcely with the expectation that it would be 
accepted. However, he caught it cleverly before it could reach the ground, 
and the next instant it disappeared down his capacious throat. Another 
followed, and was treated in the same way; then more, until no less than 
five had been disposed of. This number seemed to satisfy him, and the 
whole neck being now enormously distended, it was with difficulty that he 
waddled away to his favourite corner of the coal-shed, where I left him 
‘ sitting, face to the wall, upon a lump of coal, the legs of the last starling 
still projecting from the corer of his mouth. After this a bird was always 
