THE WHOOPING CRANE. 
193 
livery, and even when they have begun to be patched with white ; but in old 
birds the flesh becomes very dark, tough and unfit for the table, although the 
Seminole Indians shoot them on all occasions for food. 
In captivity the Whooping Crane becomes extremely gentle, and feeds 
freely on grain and other vegetable substances. A Mr. Magwood, residing 
near Charleston, in South Carolina, kept one for some time, feeding it on 
maize. It accidentally wounded one of its feet on the shell of an oyster, 
and, although the greatest care was taken of it, died after lingering some 
weeks. Having myself kept one alive, I will give you an account of its 
habits. 
It was nearly full-grown when I obtained it, and its plumage was chang- 
ing from greyish-brown to white. I received it as a present from Captain 
Clack of the United States Navy, commander of the Erie sloop of war. It 
had been wounded in the wing, on the coast of Florida, but the fractured 
limb had been amputated and soon healed. During a voyage of three months, 
it became very gentle, and was a great favourite with the sailors.' I placed 
it in a yard, in company with a beautiful Snow Goose. This was at Boston. 
It was so gentle as to sutler me to caress it with the hand, and was extreme- 
ly fond of searching for worms and grubs about the wood pile, probing every 
hole it saw with as much care and dexterity as an Ivory-billed Woodpecker. 
It also watched with all the patience of a cat the motions of some mice which 
had bulTows near the same spot, killed them with a single blow, and swal- 
lowed them entire, one after another, until they were extirpated. I fed it 
on corn and garbage from the kitchen, to which were added bits of bread and 
cheese, as well as some apples. It would pick up the straws intended to 
keep its feet from being soiled, and arrange them round its body, as if intent 
on forming a nest. For hours at a time, it would stand resting on one foot 
in a very graceful posture ; but what appeared to me very curious was, that 
it had a favourite leg for this purpose ; and in fact none of my family ever 
found it standing on the other, although it is probable that this happened in 
consequence of the mutilation of the wing, the leg employed being that of 
the injured side. The stump of its amputated wing appeared to be a con- 
stant source of trouble, particulaidy at the approach of the winter : it would 
dress the feathers about it, and cover it with so much care, that I really felt 
for the poor fellow. When the weather became intensely cold, it regularly 
retired at the approach of night under a covered passage, where it spent the 
hours of darkness ; but it always repaired to this place with marked reluc- 
tance, and never until all was quiet and nearly dark, and it came out, even 
when the snow lay deep on the ground, at the first appearance of day. Now 
and then it would take a run, extend its only wing, and, uttering a loud cry, 
leap several times in the air. as if anxious to return to it* haunts. At other 
