
Fes. 3, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 

w| SKETCH OF HEAD MADE 




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THE SNAKE BIRD— Drawing from life by Edwin Lutz. 
cypress on a lake on the easterly side of the 
river. They were perfectly tame and gentle and 
much attached to their foster parents, the man 
and woman of the house, whom they followed 
wherever they went. They fed with equal will- 
ingness on shrimp and fish, and when neither 
could be had, contented themselves with boiled 
Indian corn, of which they caught with great 
ease the grains as they were thrown one by one 
to them. I was afterward informed that when 
a year old they were allowed to go to the river 
and fish for themselves on ponds on either side, 
and that they regularly returned toward night, 
for the purpose of roosting on the top of the 
house. Both birds were males and they fought 
hard battles, but at last each met with a female, 
which it enticed to the roost on the house top, 
where all four slept at night for a while. Soon 
after, the females having probably laid their eggs 
in the woods, they all disappeared and were never 
again seen by the person who related this curious 
aitaiien 
The Rev. John Bachman reared some of these 
birds and wrote his friend Audubon about them. 
Of one of them, he says: “My pet was tame 
from the beginning of its captivity and followed 
me about the house, the yard and garden, until 
I thought it quite troublesome, in consequence of 
its peculiar attachment to me. The one given to 
our friend was fed on fish and raw beef, but al- 
though it grew to its full size, never seemed to 
thrive as well as the one I had, and finally died 
of an affection causing spasms. This was a fe- 
male, and although less bright in color than the 
adult of the same sex, the two middle feathers 
of her tail were partially crimped and her mark- 
ings were the same. While in the young state I 
frequently carried it to a pond, believing that it 
would relish the water and would improve in 
health; but I invariably found it to scramble to 
179 
the shore as soon as possible, as if dreading the 
element in which it was by nature destined to 
live. When thrown into the pond it usually dived 
at once, but the next instant rose to the surface 
and swam with all the buoyancy of a common 
duck. It is a fearless bird, keeping at bay the 
hens and turkeys in the yard, and never sparing 
any dog that chanced to pass by it, dealing blows 
right and left with its sharp pointed bill, and 
occasionally posting itself at the trough where 
they are fed, to prevent them from taking a mor- 
sel of food until he has tantalized them suffi- 
ciently, then he leaves them to share whatever he 
does not himself relish. It was not until my bird 
was fully fledged that I found it willing or 
anxious to go to the water, and then, whenever 
it Saw me going toward the pond it accompanied 
me as far as the gate, seeming to say, ‘Pray let 
me go.’ On my opening this gate it at once fol- 
lowed me, waddling like a duck, and no sooner 
was it in sight of its favorite element than it 
immediately let itself in, not with a plunge or a 
dive, but by dropping from a plank into the 
stream, where for a while it would swim like a 
duck, then dipping its long neck, it would dive 
for the purpose of procuring fish. The water 
was clear enough to enable me to see all of its 
movements, and after many various windings, it 
would emerge at a distance of forty or fifty yards. 
“This bird sleeps in open air, and during warm 
nights perches on the house or the bars of the 
fence, with its head under its wings, placed there 
from above its back, and in rainy weather it 
often sits in that same place for nearly the whole 
day. It appears to be very susceptible of cold, 
retreating to the kitchen, and near the fire, bat- 
tling with the dogs or the cooks for the most de- 
sirable place on the hearth. Whenever the sun 
shines it spreads it wings and tail, rustles its 
feathers and seems delighted with our warmest 
sunny days. While walking or sometimes hop- 
ping, it does not support itself by the tail, as cor- 
morants sometimes do. When fish is presented 
to it it seizes and swallows them greedily, but 
when these cannot be procured we are forced to 
feed it on meat, when it opens its mouth and re- 
ceived the food placed init. * * * 
“Once it made its escape and flew off about a 
quarter ‘of a mile into the pond. Some boys hap- 
pened to be there in a canoe. The bird approached 
them with open mouth, for it was hungry. * * 
* When they saw such a strange creature pur- 
suing them with a head somewhat like that of 
a snake, they took alarm and paddled to the 
shore, but my bird followed in their wake, and 
landed as soon as they did. They now fled to 
the house, where the anhinga also arrived and 
was recognized by some members of the family 
who sent it back to me.” 
Tt is generally believed that the snake bird al- 
ways swims with its body sunk beneath the sur- 
face and showing only its head and a part of its 
tail, but this, Audubon declares, is quite incor- 
rect, “For it is so only when in sight of an enemy 
and when under any apprehension of danger.. It 
is as buoyant as any other diving bird, such as 
a cormorant, a merganser, a grebe or a diver. 
* * * When it first observes an enemy it im- 
mediately sinks its body deeper, in the manner 
of the birds just mentioned, and when the danger 
approaches, the more does it sink until at last 
it swims off with the head and neck only above 
the surface, when these parts, from their form 
and peculiar sinuous motion, somewhat resemble 
the head and part of the body of a snake. It is 
from this circumstance that the anhinga has re- 
ceived the name of snake bird. * * * 
“When fishing in a state of security it acts pre- 
cisely like a cormorant, returning to the surface 
as soon as it has procured a fish or other article 
of food, shakes it, if it is not too large, throws 
it into the air and receiving it conveniently, swal- 
lows it and recommences its search.” 
The food of the snake bird consists almost en- 
tirely of fishes, and as its digestion is rapid, it 
requires a great amount of food. Audubon tells 
that he and Dr. Bachman gave to one of these 
birds, about seven months old, a blackfish 914 
inches long by two inches in diameter. The bird 
swallowed the fish entire, head foremost. Later, 
at a single meal, this same bird swallowed in 
succession nine fishes 7% inches long, and an 
ordinary meal might consist of forty or more fish 
