348 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May J3S, 1890. 



THE ALBATROSS AT HOME. 



THE poet Coleridge declared he had. good authority in 

 old Shevlocke's voyages for all the natural details of 

 his masterpiece '"The Ancient Mariner," and that only 

 the supernatural features were fanciful. I am inclined 

 to think, however, that he indulged a poet's license, or 

 else that his authority misled him, when he placed his 

 immortal albatross amid the frozen terrors of the Antarc- 

 tic pole. 



The ice was here, the ice was there, 



The ice was all around; 

 It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, 



Like noises in a swound! 

 At length did cross an albatross, 



Through the fog it came; 

 As if it. had heen a Christian soul. 



We hailed it in God's Dame. 



Coleridge's albatross, in. fact, had several peculiar habits 

 which ordinary albatrosses, according to my observation, 

 at least, do not possess. For instance: 



Id mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, 



It perched for vespers nine; 

 Whiles all the night, through fog smoke white, 

 Glimmered the white moonshine. 



There are two palpable blunders in this stanza. The 

 albatross cannot possibly perch on mast or shroud or any- 

 thing else. It is not a perching bird at all but is so awk- 

 ward and ungainly on its great, flat, webbed feet that 

 it ean scarcely maintain its footing on a ship's deck. 

 The integument of the feet is so tender, too, that it is 

 very quickly injured by contact with the planking, and 

 when an albatross is caught with hook and line, it is 

 necessary to lay down a table cloth or some other soft 

 material for the bird to stand on if the feet are to be pre- 

 served, as they often are, for making tobacco pouches. 

 Secondly, the albatross has no nocturnal habits, but when 

 night falls it quits the ship which it has followed all 

 day, and vanishes into the mystery of darkness and dis- 

 tance that shrouds the face of the deep in southern lati- 

 tudes. Sailors have a belief, which they fondly cherish, 

 as they do many other improbable or impossible theories, 

 that the albatross sleeps upon the wing. That, however, 

 is a mere delusion. I have spent many a moonlight night 

 on deck in the South Sea, and have always been a very 

 close observer of the birds; but I never saw any alba- 

 trosses about much after sundown. Where they do 

 sleep cannot readily be explained, for they are often seen 

 in great numbers around a ship toward sundown, at an 

 immense distance from any land and where the water is 

 too rough for them to rest upon it. Strange as it may 

 seem, albatrosses are easily drowned. I have many 

 times seen them brought on board after a long pull in a 

 rough sea, actually at the point of death from drowning, 

 and they are then easily killed without ruffling their 

 plumage, by a slight pressure from the knee on their breast. 

 Sometimes they have strength enough left to vomit a huge 

 volume of salt water and oil, which, running all over the 

 clean deck, leaves it stained and greasy for a long time; 

 and then they may recover their breath and give their 

 captors a severe struggle: but if not, they are quickly 

 disposed of, and they sometimes die right out, of their 

 own accord. So, they cannot stand the spray, if they 

 alight on the water in a rough sea, but they either keep 

 on the lee of the waves or else take to flight again as 

 speedily as possible, and remain on the wing for hours 

 and hours together. I think their ordinary habit must 

 be to seek for some island or rock every night; for they 

 fly at such a marvellous pace that the fact of their being 

 several degrees away from any land a little before sun- 

 down need not prevent their reaching an asylum at an 

 early hour in the evening. A bird which can calmly 

 soar round and round a steamer running fifteen knots 

 an hour, with scarcely a perceptible movement of its 

 wings, would not be much put out by having to fly home 

 to bed two or three hundred miles. 



In calm weather and warm latitudes albatrosses cer- 

 tainly sleep on the water, not from necessity but from 

 choice. I have often been up at sunrise, within sight of 

 land, and seen vast flocks of sea birds fast asleep on the 

 motionless surface of the ocean, with their heads tucked 

 under their wings, and among them were numbers of 

 albatrosses, distinguishable by their great size and snowy 

 plumage. 



If, therefore, Coleridge was wrong about the albatross 

 perching and about its being a regular attendant at 

 vespers, he may also have been wrong about its fre- 

 quenting the frozen regions. I was once as far south as 

 62% quite among the ice for weeks together in the sum- 

 mer time, but we lost the albatrosses before we saw any 

 ice, and though we were always on the lookout for 

 natural objects of interest, we saw them no more until 

 we were again in clear water. 



And a good south wind sprung up behind; 

 The albatross did follow, 



And every day, for food or play, 

 Came to the mariner's hollo ! 

 The home of the albatross, in short, is not at the 

 antarctic, but considerably to the north of it. All the 

 albatrosses in existence probably come from a very small 

 area comprised in two or three isolated groups of islands 

 or rocks, the chief of which are the Antipodes Islands, 

 the Crozets and Tristan D'Acunha. A British ship, 

 called the Strathmore, was wrecked some years ago at 

 the Crozets, and a large number of her passengers' and 

 crew lived for many months on those desolate islands. 

 They ate albatross flesh and albatross eggs; they dressed 

 m n all ?atro8s skins, and they slept on albatross feathers. 

 Whether they would have eventually learned to fly and 

 swim like albatrosses was not proven, but when they 

 were rescued they looked very much like albatrosses, 

 and as for the smell— well! 



But the place to see albatrosses in the greatest numbers 

 and under the most favorable conditions, is at the Anti- 

 podes Islands. This remote group, which is one of many 

 uninhabited scraps of land far out in the ocean that are 

 included m the political boundaries of New Zealand, is 

 called Antipodes because it is almost exactly antipodal 

 to London. Ic is as nearly as may be 180° east or west of 

 London, and it is as far south of the equator as London 

 is north of the equator. When it is noon in London it is 

 midnight at the Antipodes Islands, and vice versa The 

 longest clay in London is the shortest day at the Anti- 

 podes Islands, and when it is midwinter there it is mid- 

 summer in London. To complete the coincidence, the 

 area of the Antipodes Islands is pretty much the same as 



that of London. The population, moreover, is as dense 

 in one place as in the other, though of a very different 

 character. If there are five millions of human beings in 

 the modern Babylon, there must surely be five millions 

 of seals, penguins and albatrosses in the Antipodes 

 Islands. 



The New Zealand Government have a humane and sen- 

 sible practice of maintaining depots of provisions, 

 blankets, matches and other necessaries, on all the out- 

 lying islands of the colony where there is a possibility of 

 shipwreck occurring and castaways needing supplies; 

 and once or twice a year they send a steam yacht, or 

 lighthouse tender, the Stella, to visit these lorfely spots 

 for the purpose of rescuing any poor wretches who may 

 be sojourning ther&Land of inspecting or renewing the 

 depots. Many liveshave been saved by this means, and 

 even where there is no such sensational romance of the 

 sea, a trip in the Stella is one of the most agreeable and 

 interesting that could be imagined. Starting from Bluff 

 Harbor, the southernmost part of the Middle Island, the 

 Antipodes are nearly eleven degrees to the eastward, 

 about five days' steady steaming, with a -short stop at 

 one or two intervening islets. The first appearance of 

 the Antipodes is very pleasing — and very deceptive. The 

 land rises boldly from the ocean to a height of 400 or 

 500ft. and gives the impression of being covered with 

 bright green turf, while in parts there seem to be chalk 

 cliffs or snow drifts. 



As the yacht approaches the islands, however, and 

 cautiously feels her way among the reefs that lie off the 

 only landing place, they are seen to consist entirely of 

 rocks very rugged at the top, but cut into terraces and 

 smoothed on the surface lower down by the wash of the 

 ocean during no one knows how many ages. The islands 

 are undoubtedly volcanic in their origin and have evi- 

 dently been uplifted from the sea by a succession of 

 earthquakes or other causes in comparatively recent 

 times. Thus the terraces which were formerly awash 

 are now high above the surf, though in stormy weather 

 the spray still dashes over them. The green appearance 

 is given not by turf, but by long, dark marine grasses 

 and thick mats of seaweed, while the white patches on 

 the cliffs are caused by the droppings of innumerable sea 

 fowl during many centuries. The higher rocks, which 

 tower precipitously above the terraces, are honeycombed 

 with caves and holes made in the first instance no doubt 

 by the bubbling and cracking of the liquid lava and scoria 

 when the islands were upheaved by some tremendous 

 eruption from the bottom of the sea, but since hollowed 

 out and rounded and smoothed by the countless myriads 

 of birds which crowd them like the inmates of an east side 

 tenement house. ► 



The moment you step ashore on the Antipodes and 

 climb up on the terraces, you discover that there is not a 

 dry spot below the rocky cliffs, but that the whole area 

 is slippery and sloppy, with clear pools at every step, and 

 water dripping or flowing in all directions. It rains 

 there more than half the year, and when, it is not raining 

 the moisture from the surf keeps the place? in a constant, 

 state of sop. This just suits the creatures that congre- 

 gate there. The seals think it a perfect paradise. Hun- 

 dreds of them are to be seen flopping awkwardly about 

 on the rocks, or lying in heaps on the terraces, basking 

 in the sun, while among them, and perfectly indifferent 

 to their presence, are thousands of albatrosses and pen- 

 guins of all sizes and ages, occupying every available 

 standing place, or sitting on their eggs among the sea 

 weeds, or gravely paddling in the shallow pools. The 

 rocks above are simply alive with seagull", petrels and 

 cormorants; but the albatrosses and penguins alone ap- 

 pear to share the terraces or sloping hillsides with the 

 seals. 



The wandering albatross, Diomedea exulaus, so called 

 by Linnasus in fanciful allusion to the lost sailors of Dio- 

 medes, is the largest of all sea fowl and, indeed, one of 

 the largest birds in the world. It often measures 4 feet 

 from beak to tail, and specimens have been obtained 

 measuring 17 feet across the wings. I have myself seen 

 many measuring 14 feet across, but a more usual 

 measurement is about 12 feet. Any one who has only 

 seen the albatross soaring in the air with its vast pinions 

 outstretched like the sails of a windmill, or resting 

 gracefully on the surface of the sea, is disappointed by 

 the first sight of the bird on land. It looks curi- 

 ously short and stumpy, rather suggestive of a 

 very fat goose, and its enormous beak, with a great 

 sharp hook on the end of the upper mandible, seems out 

 of all proportion to the rest of the bird. It recalls ludi- 

 crously the figure of the docto, the extinct, gigantic bird 

 of Mauritius. The stupendous wings, in fact, are so 

 closely folded against the body that while they give the 

 albatross a bulky appearance, they altogether belie its 

 real character as a bird of unequalled power of flight. 



The birds and beasts at the Antipodes Islands are so 

 unaccustomed to human beings that they display not the 

 slightest fear nor any other emotion. The albatrosses 

 will even allow themselves to be lifted off the nest with 

 no more decided demonstration than spreading out their 

 great webbed feet or opening their huge gaping beak and 

 reaching round for a bite. If they do get hold of your 

 arm they give you an ugly nip, for the sharp poiDt of the 

 hook at the end of the upper mandible goes through a 

 thick oilskin and coat-sleeve easily. But the birds are 

 by no means vicious and offer little resistance to being 

 bound round the wings and body with rope yarns and 

 carried on board the steamer, where they are placed on 

 wet sails under a netting on the fore deck. 



I had often read that the albatross lays only one egg 

 and hatches that out before it lays another, but after 

 seeing it at home I find it hard to believe. The number 

 of eggs on the Antipodes Islands is marvelous, and cer- 

 tainly the birds sit not on one, or two, or three, but on 

 dozens. That is to say, they hatch their eggs in common 

 as many other birds are known to do, and I should say 

 there are many more eggs than birds. They are a bluish 

 white, rather rough on the turface and about as large as 

 a swan's egg. 



The young albatrosses are most comical little creatures, 

 covered with dusky down, which has a curled or frizzled 

 appearance, not unlike a little negro's wool, only much 

 softer; and their great goggly eyes and huge, wide open 

 beaks, always craving for food, give them a singular 

 look of juvenile voracity and alertness. Numberless at- 

 tempts have been made to take them half- fledged and 

 rear them in captivity, but they invariably die. Pen- 

 guins, on the other hand, are easily reared and domesti- 

 cated, and make very pretty and amusing pets. 



The flesh of the albatross, like that of all other sea 

 fowl within my experience, not excepting even the fetid 

 cormorant, is perfectly eatable and wholesome and not 

 at all unpalataole, if only the precaution is observed of 

 skinning the bird the moment it is killed, before the rank 

 oil which lies at the roots of the feathers can permeate 

 the body. It is brown in color and very glutinous, like 

 the knuckle end of a leg of mutton, and it has a peculiar 

 flavor like that of a larded chicken, that is to say it has 

 a dash of bacon. The eggs are very rich and strong, not 

 very pleasant to eat, till you get used to them, but un- 

 surpassed for cookery or omelettes. The long, slender 

 wing bones make excellent pipe stems, for which they 

 are commonly used in the colonies, and even in England. 

 They "color" dark brown or black, and polish just as 

 well as the meerschaum bowl itself. 



The most valuable part of the albatross, however, is 

 its plumage. The neck, breast and belly are snow white, 

 shading delicately into gray and dusky brown at the 

 sides and back, and the feathers are so curled and elastic 

 that the skin with the plumage on it, is an inch or an 

 inch and a half thick. No finer material can be got for 

 muffs, cuffs, collarettes, capes or the trimming or lining 

 of cloaks and robes. It is very light, yet exceedingly 

 warm, while for appearance its dovefike smoothness and 

 purity cannot be excelled. It has the advantage too, of 

 being very durable, the natural oil of the bird preserving 

 the skin and feathers for many years, while the charac- 

 teristic musky odor is easily overcome by camphor. It 

 is a wonder that some enterprising furrier or modiste 

 does not set the fashion of wearing albatross plumage 

 and send to Antipodes or the Crozets for a season's sup- 

 ply. There would be money in it, not only by its novelty 

 but by its usefulness. At the same time, I hope it will 

 not be done, because if once the skin of the albatross ac- 

 quired a commercial value and the ruthless hand of 

 fashion were laid on its smooth white neck, the poor bird 

 would soon be driven from its secluded haunts and 

 might even be in danger of extermination. 



May the day be far distant when the trader shall in- 

 vade the home of the albatross or the pot-hunter disturb 

 its ancient, solitary reign. Edward Wakefield. 



SOME ENEMIES OF GAME. 



THE wastes of nature, as they may be justly called, are 

 enormous. Myriads of living things seem to be 

 brought into life for the sole purpose of becoming the 

 prey of useless vermin, and more perish in embryo. 

 This is especially true of game, both fish and birds. 



A correspondent (page 287) mentions the otter, and de- 

 sires some information about its habits. About thirty 

 years ago, when in the Lake Superior region, otters were 

 abundant and hundreds were trapped for the fur— then 

 very valuable — in the numerous streams, wliich abounded 

 with speckled trout. The otter feeds largely on rich, 

 which he takes as they lie in the deep pools. I had an 

 opportunity once of witnessing his manner of feeding. J 

 was watching a shoal of trout at the bottom of a steep 

 rock on the bank of a river through the clear water, when 

 an otter floated down the stream along the bottom until 

 he reached the fish, when he seized one and swam to the 

 bank, up which he crawled, and then devoured bis prey, 

 I w T as perfectly still, and he evidently nii-sed seeing or 

 noticing me. He then quietly sunk down along the bank 

 above the rock, and repeated his performance, after 

 which he disappeared in a hole in the bank. The place 

 where he came out of the water was a well-worn path, 

 an "otter slide," as it is called by trappers. I had a man 

 then trapping fur on the Escanaba River, and I sent him 

 to the place, a rock well known to fishermen there as a 

 sure place to get a few fish: and he caught the fellow. 

 Otters feed all day long. It was a little before sundown 

 when I saw this one. One was shot a few days ago in 

 one of my mill ponds here in the afternoon as he was 

 swimming along the bank. This animal destroys more 

 fish than any other enemy. 



The mink is another destructive pest to fish, but more 

 so to ducks, while both he and the otter will take frogs. 

 One mink killed fortv-two ducks last year on one of my 

 ponds, when I trapped him with the forty-third. There 

 is no better bait tor a nimk or an otter than a freshly- 

 caught trout. Pheasants and partridges (quail) are killed 

 in great numbers by the wily, cruel mink, which muti- 

 lates its prey in an abominable manner, tearing the heads 

 and necks to the bone and leaving them to perish slowly 

 and miserably. It is very destructive to poultry, young 

 and old, as well as to game; but not more so than the sly 

 possum. 



The ways of this creature are remarkable. One made 

 a distur nance in my poultry house one night, but on 

 search I found nothing. I closed the small door, how- 

 ever, and in the morning I found the beast curled up in a 

 hen's nest hiding for all he was worth. This animal kills 

 many game birds. Very frequently I find the feathers 

 where a pheasant has been eaten. A trap set there and 

 baited with a dead chicken or a piece of "gamy" meat 

 invariably catches a possum. He will kill and partly 

 devour a grown turkey, while a couple of half-grown 

 ones will disappear from a brood in a night, the feathers 

 and head being left as the possum's card with his compli- 

 ments. Coons are mischievous in the same way, but in 

 this dense wilderness, where my next neighbor on one 

 side is four miles away in an air line, I have captured a 

 dozen possums for each single coon. 



A few weeks ago I planted several thousand eggs of 

 the rainbow trout in a small shallow gravely-bottomed 

 brook. A mink was seen soon after picking up the eggs, 

 and I succeeded in shooting him while busy at the mis- 

 chief. What proportion of game animals survives these 

 and other numerous enemies? Counting the prolificacy 

 of the trout in the streams, it was probable that not more 

 than one-tenth of the eggs produce fish, while a still 

 smaller proportion of birds are hatched from the nests 

 and come to maturity. 



Last season seventeen nests of the quail (partridge) 

 were found in one of my hay fields of seven or eight 

 acres. These nests were the second brood, for I flushed 

 a covey of very young birds that were sitting around one 

 nest, and had seen several very young birds, like bumble 

 bees in the grass, some weeks previously. Hay is cut 

 late in July or in August here. But for all these nests 

 and young, mature birds are not so plentiful here as I 

 have found them in New Jersey, a dozen miles from 

 New York city. Minks, possums, snakes, hawks, owls, 

 consume vast numbers of the eggs and young birds, while 

 the fish disappear in equal proportion. H. Stewabt. 

 Highlands, X. C, 



