THE FRIGATE PELICAN. 13 



SEi of the United States army, at Key West, I observed a Frigate Pelican 

 that had forced a Cayenne Tern, yet in sight, to drop a fish, which the broad- 

 winged warrior had seized as it fell. This fish was rather large for the Tern, 

 and might probably be about eight inches in length. The Frigate Pelican 

 mounted with it across his bill about a hundred yards, and then tossing it up 

 caught it as it fell, but not in the proper manner. He therefore dropped it, 

 but before it had fallen many yards, caught it again. Still it was not in a 

 good position, the weight of the head, it seemed, having prevented the bird 

 from seizing it by that part. A second time the fish was thrown upwards, 

 and now at last was received in a convenient manner, that is, with its head 

 downwards, and immediately swallowed. 



When the morning light gladdens the face of nature, and while the war- 

 blers are yet waiting in silence the first rays of the sun, whose appearance 

 they will hail with songs of jo) 7- , the Frigate-bird, on extended pinions, sails 

 from his roosting place. Slowly and gently, with retracted neck he glides, 

 as if desirous of quietly trying the renovated strength of his wings. Toward 

 the vast deep he moves, rising apace, and before any other bird views the 

 bright orb emerging from the waters. Pure is the azure of the heavens, and 

 rich the deep green of the smooth sea below; there is every prospect of the 

 finest weather; and now the glad bird shakes his pinions; and far up into the 

 air, far beyond the reach of man's unaided eye, he soars in his quiet but 

 rapid flight. There he floats in the pure air, but thither can fancy alone 

 follow him. Would that I could accompany him ! But now I see him 

 again, with half-closed wings, gently falling towards the sea. He pauses 

 awhile, and again dives through the air. Thrice, four times, has he gradu- 

 ally approached the surface of the ocean; now he shakes his pinions as 

 violently as the swordsman whirls his claymore; all is right; and he sweeps 

 away, shooting to this side and that, in search of prey. 



Mid-day has arrived, and threatening clouds obscure the horizon; the 

 breeze, ere felt, ruffles the waters around; a thick mist advances over the 

 deep; the sky darkens, and as the angry blasts curl the waves, the thunder 

 mutters afar; all nature is involved in gloom, and all is in confusion, save 

 only the Man-of-war-bird, who gallantly meets the gale. If he cannot force 

 his way against the storm, he keeps his ground, balancing himself like a 

 Hawk watching his prey beneath; but now the tempest rages, and rising 

 obliquely, he shoots away, and ere long surmounts the tumultuous clouds, 

 entering a region calm and serene, where he floats secure until the world 

 below has resumed its tranquillity. 



I have frequently observed the Frigate-bird scratch its head with its feet 

 while on wing; and this happening one day, when the bird fell through the 

 air, as it is accustomed to do at such times, until it came within shot, I killed 



