182 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY 
lakes and rivers in about the latitude of Hudson Bay, (60°) 
where they remain preparing for a departure for the win- 
ter, until October, when they collect in flocks of twenty 
or thirty, and seizing favourable weather, with the wind 
not opposed to the direction of their flight, they mount 
high in the air, form a prolonged wedge and with loud 
screams depart for more genial climes. When making either 
their semi-annual transmigration, or on shorter expeditions, 
an occasional scream equal to “ how do you all come on 
behind” issues from the leader, which is almost immediately 
replied to by some posterior Swan with an “ all’s well” 
vociferation. When the leader of the party becomes fa- 
tigued with his extra duty of cutting the air, he falls in 
the rear and his neighbour takes his place. When mounted, 
as they sometimes are, several thousand feet above the earth, 
with their diminished and delicate outline hardly percepti- 
ble against the clear blue of heaven, this harsh sound soften- 
ed and modulated by distance, and issuing from the immense 
void above, assumes a supernatural character of tone and 
impression, that excites, the first time heard, a strangely pe- 
culiar feeling. 
In flying, these birds make a strange appearance; their 
long necks protrude and present, at a distance, mere lines 
with black points, and occupy more than one half their 
whole length, their heavy bodies and triangular wings 
seeming but mere appendages to their immense projections 
in front. 
When thus in motion, their wings pass through so few 
degrees of the circle, that, unless seen horizontally, they 
appear almost quiescent, being widely different from the 
heavy semi-circular sweep of the Goose. The Swan, when 
migrating, with a moderate wind in his favour, and mount- 
ed high in the air, certainly travels at the rate of one hun- 
dred miles or more an hour. I have often timed the flight of 
the Goose, and found one mile a minute a common rapidity, 
and when the two birds, in a change of feeding ground, 
have been flying near each other, which I have often seen, 
the Swan invariably passed with nearly double the velocity. 
The Swan in travelling from the northern parts of Ame- 
rica to their winter residence, generally keep far inland, 
mounted above the highest peaks of the Alleghany, and 
rarely follow the water courses like the Goose, which usual- 
ly stop on the route, particularly, if they have taken the 
sea board. The Swan rarely pause on their migrating 
flight, unless overtaken by a storm, above the reach of 
which occurrence, they generally soar. They have been 
seen following the coast in but very few instances. They 
arrive at their winter homes, which is a belt crossing the 
whole continent, and extending from the latitude of 40° to 
Florida, and even to the West India Islands and Mexico, in 
October and November, and immediately take possession of 
their regular feeding ground. They generally reach these 
places in the night, and the first signal of their arrival at 
their winter abode, is a general burst of melody, mak- 
ing the shores ring for several hours with their vocife- 
rating congratulations, whilst making amends for a long [ 
fast, and pluming their deranged feathers. From these lo- 
calities, they rarely depart, unless driven farther south by in- 
tensely cold weather, until their vernal excursion. When the 
spring arrives, a similar collection of forces as at the north 
takes place in March, and, after disturbing the tranquil 
bosom of the water for a night, by incessant washing and 
dressing, and alarming the quiet neighbourhood by a con- 
stant clatter of consulting tongues, they depart for the north 
about daylight with a general feu-de-joie of unmusical screams. 
The Chesapeake Bay is a great resort for Swans during 
the winter, and whilst there, they form collections of from 
one to five hundred on the flats, near the western shores, 
and extend from the outlet of the Susquehannah river, 
almost to the Rip Raps. The connecting streams also pre- 
sent fine feeding grounds. 
They always select places where they can reach their 
food by the length of their necks, as they have never, so 
far as I can learn, been seen in this part of the world, to 
dive under the water, either for food or safety. Hearne 
(Jour. Frozen Ocean,) says, that, at Hudson’s Bay, “ by div- 
ing, and other manoeuvres, it is impossible to take them by 
the hand when moulting.” I have often seated myself for 
hours, within a short distance of several hundred Swans, 
to watch their habits and manners, and never saw one pass 
entirely under the water, though they will keep the head 
beneath the surface for five minutes at a time. C. L. Buona- 
parte, Synop, Birds, IT. States, in describing the genus 
Cygnus says, “from their conformation and lightness of 
the plumage, they are unable to sink the body.” 
The food they are most partial to, is the canvass back grass, 
(Valisneria americana,) worms, insects and shell-fish, 
never I believe, touching fish, however hardly pressed for 
support. The Geese and Swans frequently feed, but never 
fly, together. 
These birds are so exceedingly watchful, that if there are 
but three of them feeding together, one will generally be 
on guard, and when danger approaches, there is some mute 
sign of alarm, for I have never heard a sound at such times. 
However much noise had been made before, the in- 
stant an alarm occurs, there is perfect silence, their heads are 
erected, a moment’s examination determines the course, 
when, if the case be not too urgent, they depend on swim- 
ming, if escape be necessary. They rarely fly even from 
the pursuit of a boat, unless very closely followed, and when 
they do arise from the water, either for escape or from 
choice, it is generally with a scream, and when alighting, 
