ANHINGA OR SNAKE-BIRD. 153 
ing to say “‘ Pray let me go.” On my opening this gate, it at once 
followed me waddling along like a duck, and no sooner was it in sight of 
its favourite element than it immediately let itself in, not with a plunge 
or a dive, but by dropping from a plank into the stream, where for a 
while it would swim like a duck, then, dipping its long neck, it would 
dive for the purpose of procuring fish. The water was clear enough 
to enable me to see all its movements, and after many various windings 
it would emerge at the distance of forty or fifty yards. This bird 
sleeps in the open air during warm nights, perched on the highest bar 
of the fence, with its head under its wings, placed there from above its 
back, and in rainy weather it often sits in the same position for nearly 
the whole day. It appears to be very susceptible of cold, retreating 
to the kitchen and near the fire, battling with the dogs or the cooks for 
the most comfortable place on the hearth. Whenever the sun shines, it 
spreads its wings and tail, rustles its feathers, and seems delighted 
with our warmest sunny days. When walking and occasionally hop- 
ping, it does not support itself by the tail, as Cormorants sometimes 
do. When fishes are presented to it, it seizes and swallows them 
greedily; but when these cannot be procured, we are forced to feed it 
on meat, when it opens its mouth, and receives the food placed in it. 
Occasionally it has spent several days without any food; but in those 
cases the bird became very troublesome, harassing all around by its in- 
cessant croakings, and giving blows to the servants, as if to remind 
them of their neglect. 
“ Once it made its escape, and flew off about a quarter of a mile into 
the pond. Some boys happening to be there in a canoe, the bird ap- 
proached them with open mouth, for it was hungry and wanted food. 
They seeing such a strange creature pursuing them with a head some- 
what like that of a snake, took alarm and paddled for the shore; but 
my bird followed in their wake, and landed as soon as they did. They 
now fled to the house, where the Anhinga also arrived, and was re- 
cognised by some members of the family, who sent it back to me; 
and I, to prevent its farther escape or loss, clipped one of its wings.” 
I saw the bird above mentioned at my friend’s house at Charles- 
ton in the winter of 1836, when on my way to the Gulf of Mexico, and 
had many opportunities of watching its habits. It was killed by a 
beautiful retriever presented to me by the Kart or Dersy, and its 
