172 
THE FKIGATE PELICAN. 
sel 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 joy, 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 1 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 
