IF a man wishes to study ornithology, let him go to Iceland. The most beautiful birds in the world, those having the most brilliant, and finest, and warmest plumage, are to be found in the Arctic regions. Some of the game-birds of Iceland, I have spoken of. The greatest favorites and the most valuable of all the feathered tribes here are the eider ducks. Their down is the lightest and softest of animal coverings, probably the worst conductor of heat, and therefore the warmest clothing, that is known. The eider down has long been one of the most important of the products of Iceland, and until lately has usually sold at several dollars a pound. The kings and princes of the north of Europe do not sleep on the down of the cygnets of the Ganges, but on and under the down of the eider duck. The increased products, the varied manufactures, and the widely extended commerce of the world, have brought into use other materials more conducive to comfort and health than the eider down; and the consequence has been, the price has greatly fallen, so that now the poor peasant can sleep on down, and it can be purchased for less than fifty cents a pound.

The eider duck—Somateria molissima—is a large and fine-looking bird. The male is over two feet in length, and weighs six or seven pounds. His back, breast, and neck are white, inclining to a pale blue; the sides white; the lower part of the wings, the tail, and the top of the head black. On the water, he is as graceful as a swan. The female is much smaller than the male, and differently colored. The female is pale yellowish brown, mottled with both white and black. The tips of the wings are white, the tail a brownish black. But a poor idea is given, however, of the looks of these birds by an enumeration of their colors. The down is a sort of brown or mouse color. These singular birds have both the character of wild and domesticated fowls. In the winter they are so wild that it is difficult to come near them, but in the breeding season—the month of June—they are tamer than barn-door fowls. On the islands all around Iceland, and many parts of the main shore, they cover the land with their nests. When left to themselves the brood of the eider duck does not exceed four; but remove the eggs daily, and she will continue to lay for weeks. The drake is a very domestic husband, and assists in all the little household arrangements previous to the advent of the little ducklings. They build not far from the water, making the nest of sea weeds and fine grass, and lining it with the exquisite, soft down which the female plucks from her breast. If you approach the nest—which is always near the water—the drake will give a hostile look at you, then plunge into the sea with great violence; but the female stands her ground. If in a gentle humor and used to seeing company, she will let you stroke her back with your hand, and even take the eggs and down from under her. Sometimes she will fight and strike with her sharp beak, and she gives a blow in earnest. On finding the down gone from the nest, she plucks off more, and when the supply fails, the drake assists in furnishing it. I have been told, if their nests are robbed of the down more than twice, they abandon the place, and will not return there the following season. Half a pound is the usual quantity taken from a nest, and this seems a great deal, for the domestic goose at a single picking rarely yields more than a quarter of a pound of feathers. A greater quantity of down is gathered in wet seasons than in dry. What immense quantities of these birds come around Reykjavik, and spend the breeding season, particularly on the islands of Engey and Vithey in the harbor! Around the houses and frequently all over the roofs, their nests are so thick that you can scarcely walk without treading on them. The inhabitants get eggs enough to half supply them with food. The eggs are the size and about the color of hen’s eggs, though not quite so white, rather inclining to a yellow. They are nearly equal in quality to those of barn fowls. After the young are hatched, their education commences immediately. They graduate after two lessons. The old duck takes them on her back, swims out into the ocean, then suddenly dives, leaving the little mariners afloat.

Of course they swim. It gets their feet wet; but they don’t mind that, as they never wear any stockings. In the winter the eider ducks seldom go far from Iceland. They visit the outer skerries, and go to the Faroes, and some to Orkney and Shetland. They breed some in these islands and the Hebrides, and sometimes on the main shore of Great Britain. Varieties of the eider duck are found in all the northern regions, Siberia, Kamtchatka, Behring’s Straits, Labrador, and as far south as New Brunswick. It seems a wonder, among all the bird fanciers, that some attempt is not made in England or our Northern States to domesticate them. Let some Captain Waterton give them a chance; and even if they fly away after the breeding season, it gives them the wider liberty, and the owner saves their keeping. The flesh of these birds is excellent, better than any other sea-fowl. In Iceland their value is so great, for their eggs and down, that there is a law against shooting them. For the first offense a man is fined a dollar, and for the next he forfeits his gun. They are greatly alarmed at guns, and, if often fired among, they quit the coast. So, with kind treatment they give a good return, but treat them unkindly and they will not return at all. The power of flight of this bird, considering his weight, is almost incredible. Mudie puts it down at ninety miles an hour. One variety, the “western eider”—somateria dispar—is only found a native of the northern part of the Pacific, on both the Asiatic coast and in the Russian possessions of North America. One of these birds, in a wild state, a solitary straggler, in “good condition,” was found near Yarmouth, on the eastern coast of England. That was the only specimen of this species ever seen in the British isles. What a journey was that! He must have flown from eastern Siberia entirely across Asia and Europe! Were man endowed with such powers, either natural or artificial, would he not be a traveler? I can only speak for one, but I say this boy would be a rover if he could go like the eider duck! I wonder if there are any Humboldts among birds. If this one had not been invited to stay in England to adorn some museum, he would have had a good budget of adventures to relate by the time he had completed the circuit of the globe. And is it unreasonable to suppose that birds sometimes actually fly round the world?

But there’s one beautiful and interesting bird that has never revealed himself to the ornithologists of Europe, except on the lonely cliffs of the Meal Sack Island, far from the main land and the haunts of men. Here they can be found for about three months in the summer. Not a specimen of this bird is known to exist in any collection. Some Danish naturalists have for years offered $200 for a pair, either dead or alive. The great danger in approaching this almost inaccessible island, with the strong currents that run by it, and the wild nature of the bird, have, so far, defied the efforts of yachtsmen, travelers, hunters, and fishermen. The Icelander scarcely ever does any thing for the sport or adventure of the thing; and rarely will a large reward tempt him to go into any scene possessing much novelty or danger, unless his own direct duty lies in that direction. I have seen a water-color drawing of this bird, at a gentleman’s house at Reykjavik. He evidently belongs to the penguin tribe. He is not as large as the penguin, but about two feet in height, and stands as straight up as a man. His back is dark colored, nearly black, and the belly white. It is evidently a marine bird, and one fond of lonely regions and cold climates, and at this time possesses much interest, simply because we cannot catch him. He is entitled to his liberty; at least I shall give him my vote to allow him to remain in his present free and independent state. I have his Latin name written down; and anyone that is good at deciphering bad writing, and thinks he can read this language of the CÆsars when written by a Dane, may examine this singular specimen of chirography. It appears to me, to be as difficult to hunt out as a sample of the bird itself.

I have now to speak of a far different specimen of the feathered tribe—the cormorant. He is a vile bird. I say vile, for he’s a glutton; his flesh is rank and unsavory, and he’s far from being a neat, tidy bird. The cormorant—Carbo cormoranus—is common on the shores of Europe and America, and in the islands of the sea as far north as the Arctic circle. They are apparently larger than the goose, but not so heavy. Color black, except the wings dark brown, and sides of the head and a spot on the thigh white. Though web-footed, he perches on trees, and sometimes builds his nest there. The bill of the cormorant is about five inches in length, the upper mandible much hooked. With this he takes his prey, the unlucky loiterers of the finny tribe. He catches them usually across, and, if large, he often rises in the air, throws up the fish, and as it falls head first he catches him endwise, and the fish, while struggling with life, finds a grave in the cormorant’s stomach. He will eat his own weight of fish in one day; and then, gorged to stupidity, he flies to a lonely cliff, spreads out his wings to dry, and lays there in a state of half torpor for several hours, like an anaconda after he has swallowed an ox. In this state, if his resting-place is accessible, the bird can be captured readily. At one season of the year—the breeding time—this bird and the shag, another species of cormorant, have a crest on the head, of greenish feathers. These afterwards disappear.

A far more elegant and interesting bird, is the gannet or Solan goose—Sula bassana. On the wing, the gannet is the most striking-looking bird I have ever seen. They are three feet in length, and their wings stretch six feet. They are white, except the outer half of the wing, which is black, the bill, legs, and feet black, and head yellow. What crowds of them we saw, both in the air and on the water, off Cape Skagen, near the southwestern part of Iceland! During the summer, the Meal-Sack Island swarms with them. The female lays but one or two eggs, nearly white, but not much larger than the common duck’s egg, though the bird is as large as the goose. The gannet is exceedingly fond of rocky islands a little way from the main shore, like the Bass rock in the Forth, the Ailsa Craig in the Clyde, and on the Iceland Meal-Sack. By these and similar places is either a strong current or a strong run of tide, and here are plenty of fish. Herrings, and very often cod and haddock, are their favorite prey. On the wing as well as in the water, the gannet is a powerful bird. With terrible impetuosity, they descend from a great height, and plunging into the water, seize and carry off their prey. Like all fishing birds, the gannet has a keen sight, keener probably than the eagle, for he can discern his prey in the water, while at a great height, and when the curl of the surface so scatters the light that human vision, aided by all the contrivances of science, cannot penetrate a single inch. How singular is nature in all her operations! But for a peculiar structure, this bird, as swift as he has to plunge into the water, would be killed, or at least stunned and rendered helpless. The cellular tissue beneath the skin, on the under part of the bird, is formed into air-cells, and inflated by a peculiar muscular action; and this gives a surface of great elasticity, and both breaks the force of the blow, and prevents the bird going very deep under water. When the gannet comes up with his prey, he rises by a regular momentum directly out of the water, and is on the wing the instant he appears above the surface.

In one more chapter, I shall complete my brief notices of some of the more interesting of the birds common in Iceland.