AND AMERICAN RURAL SPORTS. 
183 
particularly, if among others, there is usually a “how d’ye 
do” of expression on all sides. Even when wing-broken, 
these birds can swim with great rapidity, and if not other- 
wise hurt, a single oars-man in the best constructed boat, can 
rarely overtake them. A gentleman who resides on the 
Chesapeake near Bush River, informed me, that a few years 
since, he had wounded a Swan and afterwards cured and 
tamed it. To prevent it from flying away, he clipped its 
wing, but it occasionally escaped to the water, where 
he had often followed it for several miles, with two 
rowers, before he could catch it. The unwounded birds, 
have frequently been seen to collect around a cripple com- 
panion and urge it to escape, pushing it forward, and I 
have been informed by good authorities, that they have 
been observed to place themselves on each side of a disabled 
Swan, supporting a broken wing, and almost lifting the sub- 
ject of their affectionate care out of the water. 
Whilst feeding and dressing, Swans make much noise, 
and through the night, their vociferations can be heard for 
several miles. Their notes are extremely varied, some, close- 
ly resembling the deepest base of the common tin horn, whilst 
others, run through every modulation of false note of the 
french horn or clarionet. Whether this difference of note 
depends on age, sex or species, I am not positively assured. 
Lawson, a traveller in Carolina, in 1700, says, the Trum- 
peters are much the largest birds, and make the French 
horn screams, whilst the Hoopers utter the deep notes. Hav- 
ing never yet satisfied myself of the existence of two species 
of the American Swan, I have supposed the various voices 
depended on age or sex, the patriarchs producing the deep 
organ note. 
The Swan requires five or six years to reach its perfect 
maturity of size and plumage, the yearling Cygnet, being 
about one third the magnitude of the adult, and has fea- 
thers of a deep leaden colour. The smallest Swan I have 
ever examined, and it was killed in my presence, weighed 
but eight pounds. Its plumage was very deeply tinted, 
and it had a bill of a beautiful flesh colour, and very soft. 
This Cygnet, I presume was a yearling, for, I killed one 
myself the same day, whose feathers were less dark, but 
whose bill was of a dirty white; and the bird weighed twelve 
pounds. This happened at a time when my attention was 
not turned scientifically to the subject, and I have forgotten 
other singularities of the specimens. By the third year, 
the bill becomes black, and the colour of the plumage less 
intense, except on the top of the head and back of the neck, 
which are the last parts forsaken by the colour. Swans of 
the sixth year, have assumed all the characters of the adult, 
and very old birds have a hard protuberance on the bend 
of the last joint of the wing. When less than six years 
of age, these birds are very tender and delicious eating, 
having the colour and flavour of the Goose, the latter qua- 
lity is, however, more concentrated and luscious. Hearne 
considers a Swan “ when roasted, equal in flavour to young 
heifer beef, and the Cygnets are very delicate.” As these 
birds live to a great age, they grow more tough and dry as 
they advance, the patriarchs being as unmasticable and 
unsavoury, as the Cygnets are tender and delightful. 
There are many modes practised in the United States of 
destroying these princely ornaments of the water. In 
shooting them whilst flying with the wind, the writer just 
mentioned declares, “ they are the most difficult bird to kill 
I know, it being frequently necessary to take sight ten or 
twelve feet before the bill.” This I should consider an un- 
necessary allowance, unless driven by a hurricane, but, on 
ordinary occasions, the bill is aimed at, and if going with a 
breeze, at a long shot, a foot before the bill would be 
quite sufficient. The covering is so extremely thick on old 
birds, that the largest drop shot will rarely kill, unless the 
Swan is struck in the neck or under the wing, and I have 
often seen large masses of feathers torn from them, without 
for an instant, impeding their progress. 
When wounded in the wing alone, a large Swan will 
readily beat off a dog, and is more than a match for a man 
in four feet water, a stroke of the wing having broken an 
arm, and the powerful feet almost obliterating the face of a 
good sized duck shooter. They are often killed by rifle 
balls thrown from the shore into the feeding column, and 
as a ball will ricochet on the water for several hundred 
yards, a wing may be disabled at the distance of half a mile. 
These birds are often brought within shooting range, 
by sailing down upon them whilst feeding, and, as they arise 
against the wind, and cannot leave the water for fifteen 
or twenty yards, against which they strike their enor- 
mous feet and wings most furiously, great advantage is 
gained in distance. They must be allowed on all occasions 
to turn the side, for a breast shot rarely succeeds in enter- 
ing. 
When two feeding coves are separated by a single point, 
by disturbing the Swans in one or the other occasionally, 
they will pass and repass very closely to this projection of 
land, and usually taking as they do, the straight line, each 
gunner to prevent dispute, names the bird he will shoot at. 
In winter, boats covered by pieces of ice, the sportsman be- 
ing dressed in white, are paddled or allowed to float during 
the night into the midst of a flock, and they have been often- 
times killed, by being knocked on the head and neck by a 
pole. There is, however, much danger in this mode, as others 
may be engaged in like manner, but shooting, and at a short 
distance, the persons might not be distinguished from the 
Swan. These birds seem well aware of the range of a gun, 
and I have followed them in a skiff for miles, driving a body 
