What was the Dodo? When was the Dodo? Where is the Dodo? are all questions, the first more especially, which it is fully more easy to ask than answer. Whoever has looked through books on natural history—for example, that noted but now scarce instructor of our early youth, the Three Hundred Animals—must have observed a somewhat ungainly creature, with a huge curved bill, a shortish neck, scarcely any wings, a plumy tuft upon the back—considerably on the off-side, though pretending to be a tail,—and a very shapeless body, extraordinarily large and round about the hinder end. This anomalous animal being covered with feathers, and having, in addition to the other attributes above referred to, only two legs, has been, we think justly, regarded as a bird, and has accordingly been named the Dodo. But why it should be so named is another of the many mysterious questions, which require to be considered in the history of this unaccountable creature. No one alleges, nor can we conceive it possible, that it claims kindred with either of the only two human beings we ever heard of who bore the name: "And after him (Adino the Eznite) was Eleazar the son of Dodo, the Ahohite, one of the three mighty men with David, when they defied the Philistines that were there gathered together to battle, and the men of Israel were gone away." Our only other human Dodo belonged to the fair sex, and was the mother of the famous Zoroaster, who flourished in the days of Darius Hystaspes, and brought back the Persians to their ancient fire-worship, from the adoration of the twinkling stars. The name appears to have been dropped by both families, as if they were somewhat ashamed of it; and we feel assured that of such of our readers as admit that Zoroaster must have had a mother of some sort, very few really remember now-a-days that her name was Dodo. There were no baptismal registers in those times; or, if such existed, they were doubtless consumed in the "great fire"—a sort of periodical, it may be providential, mode of shortening the record, which seems to occur from time to time in all civilised countries.

But while the creature in question,—we mean the feathered biped—has been continuously presented to view in those "vain repetitions" which unfortunately form the mass of our information in all would-be popular works on natural history, we had actually long been at a stand-still in relation to its essential attributes—the few competent authorities who had given out their opinion upon this, as many thought, stereotyped absurdity, being so disagreed among themselves as to make confusion worse confounded. The case, indeed, seemed desperate; and had it not been that we always entertained a particular regard for old Clusius, (of whom by-and-by,) and could not get over the fact that a Dodo's head existed in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, and a Dodo's foot in the British Museum, London, we would willingly have indulged the thought that the entire Dodo was itself a dream. But, shaking off the cowardly indolence which would seek to shirk the investigation of so great a question, let us now inquire into a piece of ornithological biography, which seemed so singularly to combine the familiar with the fabulous. Thanks to an accomplished and persevering naturalist of our own day—one of the most successful and assiduous inquirers of the younger generation—we have now all the facts, and most of the fancies, laid before us in a splendid royal quarto volume, just published, with numerous plates, devoted to the history and illustration of the "Dodo and its Kindred." It was, in truth, the latter term that cheered our heart, and led us again towards a subject which had previously produced the greatest despondency; for we had always, though most erroneously, fancied that the great misformed lout of our Three Hundred Animals was all alone in the wide world, unable to provide for himself, (and so, fortunately, without a family,) and had never, in truth, had either predecessors or posterity. Mr Strickland, however, has brought together the disjecta membra of a family group, showing not only fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, but cousins, and kindred of all degrees. Their sedate and somewhat sedentary mode of life is probably to be accounted for, not so much by their early habits as their latter end. Their legs are short, their wings scarcely existant, but they are prodigiously large and heavy in the hinder-quarters; and organs of flight would have been but a vain thing for safety, as they could not, in such wooded countries as these creatures inhabited, have been made commensurate with the uplifting of such solid bulk, placed so far behind that centre of gravity where other wings are worked. We can now sit down in Mr Strickland's company, to discuss the subject, not only tranquilly, but with a degree of cheerfulness which we have not felt for many a day: thanks to his kindly consideration of the Dodo and "its kindred."

The geographical reader will remember that to the eastward of the great, and to ourselves nearly unknown, island of Madagascar, there lies a small group of islands of volcanic origin, which, though not exactly contiguous among themselves, are yet nearer to each other than to the greater island just named, and which is interposed between them and the coast of Southern Africa. They are named Rodriguez, Bourbon, and Mauritius, or the Isle of France. There is proof that not fewer than four distinct species of large-bodied, short-winged birds, of the Dodo type, were their inhabitants in comparatively recent times, and have now become utterly extinct. We say utterly, because neither proof nor vestige of their existence elsewhere has been at any time afforded; and the comparatively small extent, and now peopled state of the islands in question, (where they are no longer known,) make the continuous and unobserved existence of these birds, so conspicuous in size and slow of foot, impossible.

Now, it is this recent and total extinction which renders the subject one of more than ordinary interest. Death is an admitted law of nature, in respect to the individuals of all species. Geology, "dragging at each remove a lengthened chain" has shown how, at different and distant eras, innumerable tribes have perished and been supplanted, or at least replaced, by other groups of species, entire races, better fitted for the great climatic and other physical changes, which our earth's surface has undergone from time to time. How these changes were brought about, many, with more or less success, (generally less,) have tried to say. Organic remains—that is, the fossilised remnants of ancient species—sometimes indicate a long continuance of existence, generation after generation living in tranquillity, and finally sinking in a quiet grave; while other examples show a sudden and violent death, in tortuous and excited action, as if they had been almost instantaneously overwhelmed and destroyed by some great catastrophe.

Several local extinctions of elsewhere existing species are known to naturalists—such as those of the beaver, the bear, and the wolf, which no longer occur in Great Britain, though historically known, as well as organically proved by recent remains, to have lived and died among us. Their extinction was slow and gradual, and resulted entirely from the inroads which the human race—that is, the increase of population, and the progress of agriculture and commerce—necessarily made upon their numbers, which thus became "few by degrees, and beautifully less." The beaver might have carried on business well enough, in his own quiet way, although frequently incommoded by the love of peltry on the part of a hat-wearing people; but it is clear that no man with a small family, and a few respectable farm-servants, could either permit a large and hungry wolf to be continually peeping at midnight through the key-hole of the nursery, or allow a brawny bruin to snuff too frequently under the kitchen door, (after having hugged the watch-dog to death,) when the serving-maids were at supper. The extirpation, then, of at least two of those quondam British species became a work of necessity and mercy, and might have been tolerated even on a Sunday between sermons—especially as naturalists have it still in their power to study the habits of similar wild beasts, by no means yet extinct, in the neighbouring countries of France and Germany.

But the death of the Dodo and its kindred is a more affecting fact, as involving the extinction of an entire race, root and branch, and proving that death is a law of the species, as well as of the individuals which compose it,—although the life of the one is so much more prolonged than that of the other that we can seldom obtain any positive proof of its extinction, except by the observance of geological eras. Certain other still existing species, well known to naturalists, may be said to be, as it were, just hovering on the brink of destruction. One of the largest and most remarkable of herbivorous animals—a species of wild cattle, the aurochs or European bison (B. priscus)—exists now only in the forest of Bialowicksa, from whence the Emperor of Russia has recently transmitted a living pair to the Zoological Society of London. Several kinds of birds are also evidently on their last legs. For example, a singular species of parrot, (Nestor productus,) with the termination of the upper mandible much attenuated, peculiar to Phipps's Island, near Norfolk Island, has recently ceased to exist there in the wild state, and is now known as a living species only from a few surviving specimens kept in cages, and which refuse to breed. The burrowing parrot from New Zealand is already on the road to ruin; and more than one species of that singular and wingless bird, called Apteryx, also from the last-named island, may be placed in the same category. Even in our own country, if the landed proprietors were to yield to the clamour of the Anti-Game-Law League, the red grouse or moor-game might cease to be, as they occur nowhere else on the known earth save in Britain and the Emerald Isle.

The geographical distribution of animals, in general, has been made conformable to laws which we cannot fathom. A mysterious relationship exists between certain organic structures and those districts of the earth's surface which they inhabit. Certain extensive groups, in both the animal and vegetable kingdom, are found to be restricted to particular continents, and their neighbouring islands. Of some the distribution is very extensive, while others are totally unknown except within a limited space, such as some solitary isle,

"Placed far amid the melancholy main."

"In the present state of science," says Mr Strickland, "we must be content to admit the existence of this law, without being able to enunciate its preamble. It does not imply that organic distribution depends on soil and climate; for we often find a perfect identity of these conditions in opposite hemispheres, and in remote continents, whose faunÆ and florÆ are almost wholly diverse. It does not imply that allied but distinct organisms have been adduced, by generation or spontaneous development, from the same original stock; for (to pass over other objections) we find detached volcanic islets, which have been ejected from beneath the ocean, (such as the Galapagos, for instance,) inhabited by terrestrial forms allied to those of the nearest continent, though hundreds of miles distant, and evidently never connected with them. But this fact may indicate that the Creator, in forming new organisms to discharge the functions required from time to time by the ever vacillating balance of nature, has thought fit to preserve the regularity of the system by modifying the types of structure already established in the adjacent localities, rather than to proceed per saltum by introducing forms of more foreign aspect."

In conformity with this relation between geographical distribution and organic structure, it has been ascertained that a small portion of the indigenous animals and plants of the islands of Rodriguez, Bourbon, and the Isle of France, are either allied to or identical with the productions of continental Africa, a larger portion with those of Madagascar, while certain species are altogether peculiar to the insular group above named.

"And as these three islands form a detached cluster, as compared to other lands, so do we find in them a peculiar group of birds, specifically different in each island, yet allied together in their general characters, and remarkably isolated from any known forms in other parts of the world. These birds were of large size and grotesque proportions, the wings too short and feeble for flight, the plumage loose and decomposed, and the general aspect suggestive of gigantic immaturity. Their history is as remarkable as their origin. About two centuries ago, their native isles were first colonised by man, by whom these strange creatures were speedily exterminated. So rapid and so complete was their extinction, that the vague descriptions given of them by early navigators were long regarded as fabulous or exaggerated; and these birds, almost contemporaries of our great-grandfathers, became associated in the minds of many persons with the griffin and the phoenix of mythological antiquity."

The aim and object of Mr Strickland's work is to vindicate the honesty of the rude voyagers of the seventeenth century; to collect together the scattered evidence regarding the Dodo and its kindred; to describe and depict the few anatomical fragments which are still extant of those lost species; to invite scientific travellers to further and more minute research; and to infer, from the authentic data, now in hand, the probable rank and position of these creatures in the scale of nature. We think he has achieved his object very admirably, and has produced one of the best and most interesting monographs with which it is our fortune to be acquainted.

So far as we can see, the extension of man's more immediate influence and agency is the sole cause of the disappearance of species in modern times—at least we have no proof that any of these species have perished by what can be called a catastrophe: this is well exemplified by what we now know of the Dodo and its kindred.

The islands of Mauritius and Bourbon were discovered in the sixteenth century, (authorities differ as to the precise period, which they vary from 1502 to 1545,) by Pedro Mascaregnas, a Portuguese, who named the latter after himself; while he called the former Cerne, a term applied by Pliny to an island in another quarter. Of this Cerne nothing definite was ascertained till the year 1598, when the Dutch, under Jacob Cornelius Neck, finding it uninhabited, took possession, and changed its name to Mauritius. In the narrative of the voyage, of which there are several accounts in different tongues, we find the following notice:—

"This island, besides being very fertile in terrestrial products, feeds vast numbers of birds, such as turtle-doves, which occur in such plenty that three of our men sometimes captured one hundred and fifty in half a day, and might easily have taken more by hand, or killed them with sticks, if we had not been overloaded with the burden of them. Grey parrots are also common there, and other birds, besides a large kind bigger than our swans, with large heads, half of which is covered with skin like a hood. These birds want wings, in place of which are three or four thickish feathers. The tail consists of a few slender curved feathers of a gray colour. We called them Walckvogel, for this reason, that, the longer they were boiled, the tougher and more uneatable they became. Their stomachs, however, and breasts, were easy to masticate. Another reason for the name was that we had an abundance of turtle-doves, of a much sweeter and more agreeable flavour."—De Bry's India Orientalis, (1601,) pars v. p. 7.

These walckvogel were the birds soon afterwards called Dodos. The description given by Clusius, in his Exotica, (1605,) is chiefly taken from one of the published accounts of Van Neck's voyage, but he adds the following notice, as from personal observation:—

"After I had written down the history of this bird as well as I could, I happened to see in the house of Peter Pauwius, Professor of Medicine in the University of Leyden, a leg cut off at the knee, and recently brought from the Mauritius. It was not very long, but rather exceeded four inches from the knee to the bend of the foot. Its thickness, however, was great, being nearly four inches in circumference; and it was covered with numerous scales, which in front were wider and yellow, but smaller and dusky behind. The upper part of the toes was also furnished with single broad scales, while the lower part was wholly callous. The toes were rather short for so thick a leg: the claws were all thick, hard, black, less than an inch long; but the claw of the hind toe was longer than the rest, and exceeded an inch."

A Dutch navigator, Heemskerk, remained nearly three months in the Mauritius, on his homeward voyage in 1602; and in a published journal kept by Reyer Cornelisz, we read of Wallichvogels, and a variety of other game. One of Heemskerk's captains, Willem van West-Zanen by name, also left a journal—apparently not published until 1648—at which time it was edited in an enlarged form by H. Soeteboom. We there find repeated mention of Dod-aarsen or Dodos; and the sailors seem to have actually revelled in these birds, without suffering from surfeit or nausea like Van Neck's crew. As this tract is very rare, and has never appeared in an English form, we shall avail ourselves of Mr Strickland's translation of a few passages bearing on the subject in question:—

"The sailors went out every day to hunt for birds and other game, such as they could find on land, while they became less active with their nets, hooks, and other fishing-tackle. No quadrupeds occur there except cats, though our countrymen have subsequently introduced goats and swine. The herons were less tame than the other birds, and were difficult to procure, owing to their flying amongst the thick branches of the trees. They also caught birds which some name Dod-aarsen, others Dronten. When Jacob Van Neck was here, these birds were called Wallich-vogels, because even a long boiling would scarcely make them tender, but they remained tough and hard, with the exception of the breast and belly, which were very good; and also because, from the abundance of turtle-doves which the men procured, they became disgusted with dodos. The figure of these birds is given in the accompanying plate: they have great heads, with hoods thereon; they are without wings or tail, and have only little winglets on their sides, and four or five feathers behind, more elevated than the rest; they have beaks and feet, and commonly, in the stomach, a stone the size of a fist....

"The dodos, with their round sterns, (for they were well fattened,) were also obliged to turn tail; everything that could move was in a bustle; and the fish, which had lived in peace for many a year, were pursued into the deepest water-pools....

"On the 25th July, William and his sailors brought some dodos, which were very fat; the whole crew made an ample meal from three or four of them, and a portion remained over.... They sent on board smoked fish, salted dodos, land-tortoises, and other game, which supply was very acceptable. They were busy for some days bringing provisions to the ship. On the 4th of August, William's men brought fifty large birds on board the Bruyn-Vis; among them were twenty-four or twenty-five dodos, so large and heavy, that they could not eat any two of them for dinner, and all that remained over was salted.

"Another day, Hoogeven (William's supercargo) set out from the tent with four seamen, provided with sticks, nets, muskets, and other necessaries for hunting. They climbed up mountain and hill, roamed through forest and valley, and, during the three days that they were out, they captured another half-hundred of birds, including a matter of twenty dodos, all which they brought on board and salted. Thus were they, and the other crews in the fleet, occupied in fowling and fishing."

In regard to the appellations of these birds, it is not altogether easy to determine the precise date at which the synonymous term Dodars, from which our name of Dodo is by some derived, was introduced. It seems first to occur in the journal of Willem van West-Zanen; but that journal, though written in 1603, appears to have remained unpublished till 1648, and the name may have been an interpolation by his editor, Soeteboom. Matelief's Journal, also, which makes mention of Dodaersen, otherwise Dronten, was written in 1606, and Van der Hagen's in 1607; but Mr Strickland has been unable to find an edition of either work of earlier date than 1646, and so the occurrence of these words may be likewise due to the officiousness of editors. Perhaps the earliest use of the word Dodars may date from the publication of Verhuffen's voyage, (1613,) where, however, it occurs under the corrupt form of Totersten. There seems little doubt that the name of Dodo is derived from the Dutch root, Dodoor, which signifies sluggard, and is appropriate to the leisurely gait and heavy aspect of the creatures in question. Dodars is probably a homely or familiar phrase among Dutch sailors, and may be regarded as more expressive than elegant. Our own Sir Thomas Herbert was the first to use the name of Dodo in its modern form, and he tells us that it is a Portuguese word. Doudo, in that language, certainly signifies "foolish," or "simple," and might have been well applied to the unwary habits and defenceless condition of these almost wingless and totally inexperienced species; but, as none of the Portuguese voyagers seem to have mentioned the Dodo by any name whatever, nor even to have visited the Mauritius, after their first discovery of the island by Pedro Mascaregnas already named, it appears far more probable that Dodars is a genuine Dutch term, altered, and it may be amended, by Sir Thomas Herbert, to suit his own philological fancies.

The Dutch, indeed, seem to have been inspired with a genuine love of Dodos, and never allowed even the cooing of the delicately tender turtle-doves to prevent their laying in an ample store of the more solid, if less sentimental species. Thus, Van der Hagen, who commanded two ships which remained for some weeks at the Mauritius in 1607, not only feasted his crews on great abundance of "tortoises, dodars, gray parroquets, and other game," but salted large quantities, for consumption during the voyage. Verhuffen touched at the same island in 1611, and it is in his narrative (published at Frankfort in 1613) that Dodos are called Totersten. He describes them as having—

"A skin like a monk's cowl on the head, and no wings; but, in place of them, about five or six yellow feathers: likewise, in place of a tail, are four or five crested feathers. In colour they are gray; men call them Totersten or WalckvÖgel; they occur there in great plenty, insomuch that the Dutch daily caught and ate many of them. For not only these, but in general all the birds there, are so tame that they killed the turtle-doves, as well as the other wild pigeons and parrots, with sticks, and caught them by the hand. They also captured the totersten or walckvÖgel with their hands; but were obliged to take good care that these birds did not bite them on the arms or legs with their beaks, which are very strong, thick, and hooked; for they are wont to bite desperately hard."

We are glad to be informed, by the above, of this attempt at independence, or something at least approaching to the defensive system. It forms an additional title, on the part of the Dodo, to be regarded, at all events by the Dutch cuisiniers, as "une piÈce de resistance."

Sir Thomas Herbert, already named, visited the Mauritius in 1627, and found it still uninhabited by man. In his Relation of some yeares' Travaile, which, for the amusement of his later years, he seems to have repeatedly rewritten for various editions, extending from 1634 to 1677, he both figures and describes our fat friend. His narration is as follows:—

"The dodo, a bird the Dutch call walckvÖgel or dod-eersen: her body is round and fat, which occasions the slow pace, or that her corpulencie; and so great as few of them weigh less than fifty pound; meat it is with some, but better to the eye than stomach, such as only a strong appetite can vanquish; but otherwise, through its oyliness, it cannot chuse but quickly cloy and nauseate the stomach, being indeed more pleasurable to look than feed upon. It is of a melancholy visage, as sensible of nature's injury in framing so massie a body to be directed by complimental wings, such indeed as are unable to hoise her from the ground, serving only to rank her amongst birds. Her head is variously drest; for one half is hooded with down of a dark colour, the other half naked, and of a white hue, as if lawn were drawn over it; her bill hooks and bends downwards; the thrill or breathing-place is in the midst, from which part to the end the colour is of a light green, mixt with pale yellow; her eyes are round and bright, and instead of feathers has a most fine down; her train (like to a China beard) is no more than three or four short feathers; her leggs are thick and black; her talons great; her stomach fiery, so that as she can easily digest stones; in that and shape not a little resembling the ostrich."—(P. 383.)

FranÇois Cauche, an account of whose voyage, made in 1638, is published in the Relations VÉritables et Curieuses de l'Isle de Madagascar, (Paris, 1651) states that he saw in the Mauritius birds called Oiseaux de Nazaret, larger than a swan, covered with black down, with crested feathers on the rump, "as many in number as the bird is years old." In place of wings there are some black curved feathers, without webs. The cry is like that of a gosling.

"They only lay one egg, which is white, the size of a halfpenny roll; by the side of which they place a white stone, of the dimensions of a hen's egg. They lay on grass, which they collect, and make their nests in the forests; if one kills the young one, a gray stone is found in the gizzard. We call them Oiseaux de Nazaret. The fat is excellent to give ease to the muscles and nerves."

Here let us pause a moment, to consider what was the probable size of a halfpenny roll in the year 1638. How many vast and various elements must be taken to account in calculating the dimensions of that "pain d'un sol!" Macculloch, Cobden, Joseph Hume, come over and help us in this our hour of knead! Was corn high or low? were wages up or down? were bakers honest or dishonest? was there a fixed measure of quantity for these our matutinal baps? Did town-councils regulate their weight and quality, or was conscience left controller, from the quartern loaf downwards to the smallest form assumed by yeast and flour?

"Tell me where was fancy bread?"

Does no one know precisely what was the size of a halfpenny roll in the year 1638? In that case, we shall not mention the dimensions of the Dodo's egg.

There is no doubt that the bird recorded by Cauche was the true Dodo, although it is probable that he either described it from memory, or confused it with the descriptions then current of the cassowary. Thus he adds that the legs were of considerable length, that it had only three toes, and no tongue—characters (with the exception of the last, inapplicable, of course, to either kind) which truly indicate the latter species. This name of "bird of Nazareth" has, moreover, given rise to a false or phantom species, called Didus Nazarenus in systematic works, and is supposed to have been derived from the small island or sandbank of Nazareth, to the north-east of Madagascar. Now Dr Hamel has recently rendered it probable that no such island or sandbank is in existence, and so we need not seek for its inhabitants: at all events, there is no such bird as the Nazarene Dodo—Didus Nazarenus.

The next piece of evidence regarding the Dodo is highly interesting and important, as it shows that, at least in one instance, this extraordinary bird was transported alive to Europe, and exhibited in our own country. In a manuscript preserved in the British Museum, Sir Hamon Lestrange, the father of the more celebrated Sir Roger, in a commentary on Brown's Vulgar Errors, and apropos of the ostrich, records as follows:—

"About 1638, as I walked London streets, I saw the picture of a strange fowle hong out upon a cloth, and myselfe, with one or two more then in company, went in to see it. It was kept in a chamber, and was a great fowle somewhat bigger than the largest turkey-cock, and so legged and footed, but stouter and thicker, and of a more erect shape; coloured before like the breast of a young cock fesan, and, on the back, of dunn or deare coulour. The keeper called it a Dodo; and in the end of a chimney in the chamber there lay a heape of large pebble stones, whereof hee gave it many in our sight, some as bigg as nutmegs, and the keeper told us she eats them, (conducing to digestion); and though I remember not how farr the keeper was questioned therein, yet I am confident that afterwards shee cast them all againe."

It is curious that no confirmation can be obtained of this exhibition from contemporary authorities. The period was prolific in pamphlets and broadsides, but political excitement probably engrossed the minds of the majority, and rendered them careless of the wonders of nature. Yet the individual in question may in all likelihood be traced down to the present day, and portions of it seen and handled by the existing generation. In Tradescant's catalogue of his "Collection of Rarities preserved at South Lambeth, near London," 1656, we find an entry—"Dodar from the island Mauritius; it is not able to flie, being so big." It is enumerated under the head of "Whole birds;" and Willughby, whose Ornithologia appeared in 1676, says of the Dodo, "Exuvias hujusce avis vidimus in museo Tradescantiano." The same specimen is alluded to by Llhwyd in 1684, and by Hyde in 1700,—having passed, meanwhile, into the Ashmolean Museum, at Oxford, with the rest of the Tradescantian collection. As Tradescant was the most noted collector of things natural in his day, and there were few, if any, to enter into competition with him, it may be well supposed that such a rara avis as a living Dodo would attract his close attention, and that it would, in all probability, find its way into his cabinet on its decease. It may, therefore, be inferred that the same individual which was exhibited in London, and described by Lestrange in 1638, is that recorded as a stuffed specimen in the catalogue of Tradescant's Museum, (1656,) and bequeathed by him, with his other curiosities, to Elias Ashmole, the munificent founder of the still existing museum at Oxford.

The considerate reader will not unnaturally ask, Where is now that last of Dodos? and echo answers, Where? Alas! it was destroyed, "by order of the Visitors," in 1755. The following is the evidence of that destruction, as given by Mr J. S. Duncan in the 3d volume of the Zoological Journal, p. 559:—

"In the Ashmolean Catalogue, made by Ed. Llhwyd, musei procustos, 1684, (Plott being then keeper,) the entry of the bird is 'No. 29, Gallus gallinaceus peregrinus Clusii,' &c. In a catalogue made subsequently to 1755, it is stated, 'The numbers from 5 to 46, being decayed, were ordered to be removed at a meeting of the majority of the Visitors, Jan. 8, 1755.' Among these, of course, was included the Dodo, its number being 29. This is further shown by a new catalogue, completed in 1756, in which the order of the Visitors is recorded as follows:—'Illa quibus nullus in margine assignatur numerus, a MusÆo subducta sunt cimelia, annuentibus Vice-Cancellario aliisque Curatoribus ad ea lustranda convocatis, die Januarii 8vo, A.D. 1755.' The Dodo is one of those which are here without the number."

By some lucky accident, however, a small portion of "this last descendant of an ancient race," as Mr Strickland terms it, escaped the clutches of the destroyers. "The head and one of the feet were saved from the flames, and are still preserved in the Ashmolean Museum."[20]

Let us now retrace our steps, for the sake of taking up, very briefly, the history of the other known remnants of this now extinct species. Among the printed books of the Ashmolean Museum, there is a small tract, of which the second edition (the first is without date) is entitled, "A Catalogue of many natural rarities, with great industry, cost, and thirty years' travel in foreign countries, collected by Robert Hubert, alias Forges, gent. and sworn servant to his majesty; and daily to be seen at the place formerly called the Music House, near the west end of St Paul's Church," 12mo, London, 1665. At page 11 is the following entry:—"A legge of a Dodo, a great heavy bird that cannot fly: it is a bird of the Maurcius island." This specimen is supposed to be that which afterwards passed into the possession of the Royal Society, is recorded in their catalogue of Natural and Artificial Curiosities, published by Grew in 1681, and is now in the British Museum. It is somewhat larger than the Ashmolean foot, and, from its excellent state of preservation, finely exhibits the external characters of the toes and tarsus.

In Olearus's catalogue of the museum at Gottorf, (the seat of the Dukes of Schleswig, and recently a less easy one than we have known it,) of which the first edition was published in 1666, there is the following notice of a Dodo's head:—

"No. 5 is the head of a foreign bird, which Clusius names Gallus peregrinus, Mirenberg Cygnus cucullatus, and the Dutch walghvÖgel, from the disgust which they are said to have taken to its hard flesh. The Dutch seem to have first discovered this bird in the island of Mauritius; and it is stated to have no wings, but in place of them two winglets, like the emeu and the penguins."—(P. 25.)

This specimen, after having been disregarded, if not forgotten, for nearly two centuries, was lately re-discovered, by Professor C. Reinhardt, amongst a mass of ancient rubbish, and is now in the public museum of Copenhagen, where it was examined by Mr Strickland two years ago.[21] The integumentary portions have been all removed, but it exhibits the same osteological characters as the Oxford head, though less perfect, the base of the occiput being absent. It is of somewhat smaller size.

The remnants now noticed—three heads and two feet—are the only ascertained existing portions of the famous Dodo; a bird which, as we have seen in the preceding extracts, might have been well enough known to such of our great great-grandfathers as were in the sea-faring line.

But when did the last Dodo die? We cannot answer that question articulately, as to the very year, still less as to the season, or time of day—and we believe that no intimations of the event were sent to the kindred; but we do not hesitate to state our belief that that affecting occurrence or bereavement took place some time subsequent to the summer of 1681, and prior to 1693. The latest evidence of the existence of Dodos in the Mauritius is contained in a manuscript of the British Museum, entitled "A coppey of Mr Benj. Harry's Journall when he was chief mate of the Shippe Berkley Castle, Captn. Wm. Talbot commander, on voyage to the Coste and Bay, 1679, which voyage they wintered at the Maurrisshes." On the return from India, being unable to weather the Cape of Good Hope, they determined to make for "the Marushes," the 4th June 1681. They saw the land on the 3d July, and on the 11th they began to build huts, and with much labour spread out their cargo to dry:—

"Now, having a little respitt, I will make a little description of the island, first of its producks, then of its parts; ffirst, of winged and feathered ffowle, the less passant are Dodos, whose fflesh is very hard, a small sort of Gees, reasonably good Teele, Cuckoes, Pasca fflemingos, Turtle Doves, large Batts, many small birds which are good.... Heer are many wild hoggs and land-turtle which are very good, other small creators on the Land, as Scorpions and Musketoes, these in small numbers, Batts and ffleys a multitude, Munkeys of various sorts."

After this all historical evidence of the existence of the Dodo ceases, although we cannot doubt that they continued for yet a few years. The Dutch first colonised the Mauritius in 1644. The island is not above forty miles in length; and although, when first discovered, it was found clothed with dense forests of palms, and various other trees—among whose columnar stems and leafy umbrage the native creatures might find a safe abode, with food and shelter—how speedily would not the improvident rapacity of hungry colonists, or of reckless fresh-flesh-bereaved mariners, diminish the numbers of a large and heavy-bodied bird, of powerless wing and slow of foot, and useful, moreover, in the way of culinary consumption. Mr Strickland is of opinion that their destruction would be further hastened, or might be mainly caused, by the dogs, cats, and swine which accompany man in his migrations, and become themselves emancipated in the forests. All these creatures are more or less carnivorous, and are fond of eggs and young birds; and as the Dodo is said to have hatched only one egg at a time, a single savage mouthful might suffice to destroy the hope of a family for many a day.

That the destruction of Dodos was completed by 1693, Mr Strickland thinks may be inferred from the narrative of Leguat, who, in that year, remained several months in the Mauritius, and, while enumerating its animal productions at considerable length, makes no mention whatever of the bird in question. He adds,—"L'isle Était autrefois toute remplie d'oyes et de canards sauvages; de poules d'eau, de gelinottes, de tortues de mer et de terre, mais tout cela est devenue fort rare." And, while referring to the "hogs of the China kind," he states that these beasts do a great deal of damage, by devouring all the young animals they can catch. It is thus sufficiently evident that civilisation was making aggressive inroads on the natural state of the Mauritius even in 1693.

The Dutch evacuated the island in 1712, and were succeeded by the French, who colonised it under the name of Isle de France; and this change in the population no doubt accounts for the almost entire absence of any traditionary knowledge of this remarkable bird among the later inhabitants. Baron Grant lived in the Mauritius for twenty years from 1740; and his son, who compiled his papers into a history of the island, states that no trace of such a bird was to be found at that time. In the Observations sur la Physique for the year 1778, there is a negative notice, by M. Morel, of the Dodo and its kindred. "Ces oiseaux, si bien dÉcrits dans le tome 2 de l'Histoire des Oiseaux de M. le Comte de Buffon, n'ont jamais ÉtÉ vus aux Isles de France, &c., depuis plus de 60 ans que ces parages sont habitÉs et visitÉs par des colonies FranÇoises. Les plus anciens habitans assurent tous que ces oiseaux monstrueux leur ont toujours ÉtÉ inconnus." M. Bory St Vincent, who visited the Mauritius and Bourbon in 1801, and has given us an account of the physical features of those islands in his "Voyage," assures us (vol. ii. p. 306) that he instituted all possible inquiries regarding the Dodo (or Dronte) and its kindred, without being able to pick up the slightest information on the subject; and although he advertised "une grande recompense a qui pourrait lui donner la moindre indice de l'ancienne existence de cet oiseau, un silence universel a prouvÉ que le souvenir mÊme du Dronte Était perdu parmi les crÉoles." De Blainville informs us, (Nouv. Ann. Mus. iv. 31,) that the subject was discussed at a public dinner at the Mauritius in 1816, where were present several persons from seventy to ninety years of age, none of whom had any knowledge of any Dodo, either from recollection or tradition. Finally, Mr J. V. Thompson, who resided for some years in Mauritius prior to 1816, states, (Mag. of Nat. Hist., ii. 443,) that no more traces could then be found of the Dodo than of the truth of the tale of Paul and Virginia.

But the historical evidence already adduced, as to the former existence of this bird, is confirmed in a very interesting manner by what may be called the pictorial proof. Besides the rude delineations given by the earlier voyagers, there are several old oil-paintings of the Dodo still extant, by skilful artists, who had no other object in view than to represent with accuracy the forms before them. These paintings are five in number, whereof one is anonymous; three bear the name of Roland Savery, an eminent Dutch animal-painter of the early portion of the seventeenth century, and one is by John Savery, Roland's nephew.

The first of these is the best known, and is that from which the figure of the Dodo, in all modern compilations of ornithology, has been copied. It once belonged to George Edwards, who, in his work on birds, (vi. 294,) tells us, that "the original picture was drawn in Holland from the living bird, brought from St Maurice's island in the East Indies, in the early times of the discovery of the Indies by the way of the Cape of Good Hope. It was the property of the late Sir H. Sloane to the time of his death, and afterwards becoming my property. I deposited it in the British Museum as a great curiosity. The above history of the picture I had from Sir H. Sloane, and the late Dr Mortimer, secretary to the Royal Society." It is still preserved in the place to which Edwards had consigned it, and may be seen in the bird gallery, along with the actual foot already mentioned. Although without name or date, the similarity both of design and execution, leads to the conclusion that it was by one or other of the Saverys. It may be seen engraved in the Penny CyclopÆdia, in illustration of Mr Broderip's article Dodo in that work.

The second painting, one of Roland Savery's, is in the royal collection at the Hague, and may be regarded as a chef-d'oeuvre. It represents Orpheus charming the creation, and we there behold the Dodo spell-bound with his other mute companions. All the ordinary creatures there shown are depicted with the greatest truthfulness; and why should the artist, delighting, as he seems to have done, in tracing the most delicate features of familiar nature, have marred the beautiful consistency of his design by introducing a feigned, or even an exaggerated representation? We may here adduce the invaluable evidence of Professor Owen.

"While at the Hague, in the summer of 1838, I was much struck with the minuteness and accuracy with which the exotic species of animals had been painted by Savery and Breughel, in such subjects as Orpheus charming the Beasts, &c., in which scope was allowed for grouping together a great variety of animals. Understanding that the celebrated menagerie of Prince Maurice had afforded the living models to these artists, I sat down one day before Savery's Orpheus and the Beasts, to make a list of the species, which the picture sufficiently evinced that the artist had had the opportunity to study alive. Judge of my surprise and pleasure in detecting, in a dark corner of the picture, (which is badly hung between two windows,) the Dodo, beautifully finished, showing for example, though but three inches long, the auricular circle of feathers, the scutation of the tarsi, and the loose structure of the caudal plumes. In the number and proportions of the toes, and in general form, it accords with Edwards' oil-painting in the British Museum; and I conclude that the miniature must have been copied from the study of a living bird, which, it is most probable, formed part of the Mauritian menagerie. The bird is standing in profile with a lizard at its feet."—Penny CyclopÆdia, xxiii. p. 143.

Mr Strickland, in 1845, made a search through the Royal Gallery of Berlin, which was known to contain several of Savery's pictures. Among them, we are happy to say that he found one representing the Dodo, with numerous other animals, "in Paradise!" It was very conformable with the figure last mentioned; but what renders this, our third portrait, of peculiar interest, is, that it affords a date—the words "Roelandt Savery fe. 1626," being inscribed on one corner. As the artist was born in 1576, he must have been twenty-three years old when Van Neck's expedition returned to Holland; and as we are told by De Bry, in reference to the Mauritius, that "aliÆ ibidem aves visÆ sunt, quas walkvogel Batavi nominarunt, et unam secum in Hollandiam importarunt," it is quite possible that the portrait of this individual may have been taken at the time, and afterwards recopied, both by himself and his nephew, in their later pictures. Professor Owen leans to the belief that Prince Maurice's collection afforded the living prototype,—an opinion so far strengthened by Edwards's tradition, that the painting in the British Museum was drawn in Holland from a "living bird." Either view is preferable to Dr Hamel's suggestion, that Savery's representation was taken from the Dodo exhibited in London, as that individual was seen alive by Sir Hamon Lestrange in 1638, and must therefore (by no means a likely occurrence) have lived, in the event supposed, at least twelve years in captivity.

Very recently Dr J. J. de Tchudi, the well-known Peruvian traveller, transmitted to Mr Strickland an exact copy of another figure of the Dodo, which forms part of a picture in the imperial collection of the Belvedere at Vienna—by no means a safe location, in these tempestuous times, for the treasures of either art or nature. But we trust that Prince Windischgratz and the hanging committee will now see that all is right, and that General Bem has not been allowed to carry off this drawing of the Dodo in his carpet-bag. It is dated 1628.

"There are two circumstances," says Mr Strickland, "which give an especial interest to this painting. First, the novelty of attitude in the Dodo, exhibiting an activity of character which corroborates the supposition that the artist had living model before him, and contrasting strongly with the aspect of passive stolidity in the other pictures. And, secondly, the Dodo is represented as watching, apparently with hungry looks, the merry wriggling of an eel in the water! Are we hence to infer that the Dodo fed upon eels? The advocates of the Raptorial affinities of the Dodo, of whom we shall soon speak, will doubtless reply in the affirmative; but, as I hope shortly to demonstrate that it belongs to a family of birds all the other members of which are frugivorous, I can only regard the introduction of the eel as a pictorial license. In this, as in all his other paintings, Savery brought into juxtaposition animals from all countries, without regarding geographical distribution. His delineations of birds and beasts were wonderfully exact, but his knowledge of natural history probably went no further; and although the Dodo is certainly looking at the eel, yet we have no proof that he is going to eat it. The mere collocation of animals in an artistic composition, cannot be accepted as evidence against the positive truths revealed by comparative anatomy."—(P. 30.)

The fifth and last old painting of the Dodo, is that now in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, and presented to it by Mr Darby in 1813. Nothing is known of its previous history. It is the work of John Savery, the nephew of Roland, and is dated 1651. Its most peculiar character is the colossal scale on which it has been designed,—the Dodo of this canvass standing about three feet and a half in height.

"It is difficult," observes our author, "to assign a motive to the artist for thus magnifying an object already sufficiently uncouth in appearance. Were it not for the discrepancy of dates, I should have conjectured that this was the identical "picture of a strange fowle hong out upon a cloth," which attracted the notice of Sir Hamon Lestrange and his friends, as they "walked London streets" in 1638; the delineations used by showmen being in general more remarkable for attractiveness than veracity."—(P. 31.)

We have now exhibited the leading facts which establish both the existence and extinction of this extraordinary bird: the existence, proved by the recorded testimony of the earlier navigators, the few but peculiar portions of structure which still remain among us, and the vera effigies handed down by artists coeval with the period in which the Dodo lived: the non-existence, deduced from the general progress of events, and the absence of all knowledge of the species since the close of the seventeenth century, although the natural productions of the Mauritius are, in other respects, much better known to us now than then. Why any particular creature should have been so formed as to be unable to resist the progress of humanity, and should in consequence have died, it is not for us to say. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy;" and of this we may feel assured, that if, as we doubt not, the Dodo is extinct, then it has served its end, whatever that might be.

There is nothing imperfect in the productions of nature, although there are many organisms in which certain forms and faculties are less developed than in others. There are certainly, in particular groups, such things as rudimentary organs, which belong, as it were, not so much to the individual species, as to the general system which prevails in the larger and more comprehensive class to which such species belong; and in the majority of which these organs fulfil a frequent and obvious function, and so are very properly regarded as indispensable to the wellbeing of such as use them. But there are many examples in animal life which indicate that particular parts of structure remain, in certain species, for ever in an undeveloped state. In respect to teeth, for instance, the Greenland whale may be regarded as a permanent suckling; for that huge creature having no occasion for these organs, they never pierce the gums, although in early life they are distinctly traceable in the dental groove of the jaws. So the Dodo was a kind of permanent nestling, covered with down instead of feathers, and with wings and tail (the oars and rudder of all aËrial voyagers) so short and feeble as to be altogether inefficient for the purposes of flight. Why should such things be? We cannot say. Can any one say why they should not be? The question is both wide and deep, and they are most likely to plunge into it who can neither dive nor swim. We agree with Mr Strickland, that these apparently anomalous facts are, in reality, indications of laws which the great Creator has been pleased to form and follow in the construction of organised beings,—inscriptions in an unknown hieroglyphic, which we may rest assured must have a meaning, but of which we have as yet scarcely learned the alphabet. "There appear, however, reasonable grounds for believing that the Creator has assigned to each class of animals a definite type or structure, from which He has never departed, even in the most exceptional or eccentric modifications of form."

As to the true position of the Dodo in systematic ornithology, various opinions have been emitted by various men. The majority seem to have placed it in the great Rasorial or Gallinaceous order, as a component part of the family StruthionidÆ, or ostrich tribe.

"The bird in question," says Mr Vigors, "from every account which we have of its economy, and from the appearance of its head and foot, is decidedly gallinaceous; and, from the insufficiency of its wings for the purposes of flight, it may with equal certainty be pronounced to be of the Struthious structure. But the foot has a strong hind-toe, and, with the exception of its being more robust, in which character it still adheres to the StruthionidÆ, it corresponds to the LinnÆan genus Crax, that commences the succeeding family. The bird thus becomes osculant, and forms a strong point of junction between those two contiguous groups."—Linn. Trans. xiv. 484.

M. de Blainville (in Nouv. Ann. du Mus. iv. 24,) contests this opinion by various arguments, which we cannot here report, and concludes that the Dodo is a raptorial bird, allied to the vultures. Mr Broderip, in his article before referred to, sums up the discussion as follows:—

"If the picture in the British Museum, and the cut in Bontius, be faithful representations of a creature then living, to make such a bird of prey—a vulture, in the ordinary acceptation of the term—would be to set all the usual laws of adaptation at defiance. A vulture without wings! How was it to be fed? And not only without wings, but necessarily slow and heavy in progression on its clumsy feet. The VulturidÆ are, as we know, among the most active agents for removing the decomposing animal remains in tropical and inter-tropical climates, and they are provided with a prodigal development of wing, to waft them speedily to the spot tainted by the corrupt incumbrance. But no such powers of wing would be required by a bird appointed to clear away the decaying and decomposing masses of a luxuriant tropical vegetation—a kind of vulture for vegetable impurities, so to speak—and such an office would not be by any means inconsistent with comparative slowness of pedestrian motion."

Professor Owen, doubtless one of our greatest authorities, inclines towards an affinity with the vultures, and considers the Dodo as an extremely modified form of the raptorial order.

"Devoid of the power of flight, it could have had small chance of obtaining food by preying upon the members of its own class; and, if it did not exclusively subsist on dead and decaying organised matter, it most probably restricted its attacks to the class of reptiles, and to the littoral fishes, Crustacea, &c., which its well-developed back-toe and claw would enable it to seize, and hold with a firm gripe."—Transactions of the Zoological Society, iii. p. 331.

We confess that, setting aside various other unconformable features in the structure of the Dodo, the fact, testified by various authorities, of its swallowing stones, and having stones in its gizzard, for the mechanical triturition of its food, (a peculiarity unknown among the raptorial order,) is sufficient to bar the above view, supported though it be by the opinion of our most distinguished living anatomist.

In a recent memoir by Professor J. F. Brandt (of which an abstract is given in the Bulletin de la Class. Phys. de l'Acad. Imp. de St Petersburg, vol. viii. No. 3) we have the following statement:—

"The Dodo, a bird provided with divided toes and cursorial feet, is best classed in the order of the Waders, among which it appears, from its many peculiarities, (most of which, however, are quite referable to forms in this order,) to be an anomalous link connecting several groups,—a link which, for the reasons above given, inclines towards the ostriches, and especially also towards the pigeons."

We doubt the direct affinity to any species of the grallatorial order, an order which contains the cursorial or swift-running birds, very dissimilar in their prevailing habits to anything we know of the sluggish and sedentary Dodo. Professor Brandt may be regarded as having mistaken analogy for affinity; and, in Mr Strickland's opinion, he has in this instance wandered from the true method of investigation, in his anxiety to discover a link connecting dissevered groups.

What then is, or rather was, the Dodo? The majority of inquirers have no doubt been influenced, though unconsciously, by its colossal size, and have consequently sought its actual analogies only among such huge species as the ostrich, the vulture, and the albatross. But the range in each order is often enormous, as, for example, between the Falco cÆrulescens, or finch falcon of Bengal, an accipitrine bird not bigger than a sparrow, and an eagle of the largest size; or between the swallow-like stormy petrel and the gigantic pelican of the wilderness. It appears that Professor J. T. Rheinhardt of Copenhagen, who rediscovered the cranium of the Gottorf Museum, was the first to indicate the direct relationship of the Dodo to the pigeons. He has recently been engaged in a voyage round the world, but it is known that, before he left Copenhagen in 1845, he had called the attention of his correspondents, both in Sweden and Denmark, to "the striking affinity which exists between this extinct bird and the pigeons, especially the Trerons." The Columbine view is that taken up, and so admirably illustrated, by Mr Strickland, the most recent as well as the best biographer of the Dodo. He refers to the great strength and curvature of bill exhibited by several groups of the tropical fruit-eating pigeons, and adds:

"If we now regard the Dodo as an extreme modification, not of the vultures, but of those vulture-like frugivorous pigeons, we shall, I think, class it in a group whose characters are far more consistent with what we know of its structure and habits. There is no a priori reason why a pigeon should not be so modified, in conformity with external circumstances, as to be incapable of flight, just as we see a grallatorial bird modified into an ostrich, and a diver into a penguin. Now we are told that Mauritius, an island forty miles in length, and about one hundred miles from the nearest land, was, when discovered, clothed with dense forests of palms and various other trees. A bird adapted to feed on the fruits produced by these forests would, in that equable climate, have no occasion to migrate to distant lands; it would revel in the perpetual luxuries of tropical vegetation, and would have but little need of locomotion. Why then should it have the means of flying? Such a bird might wander from tree to tree, tearing with its powerful beak the fruits which strewed the ground, and digesting their stony kernels with its powerful gizzard, enjoying tranquillity and abundance, until the arrival of man destroyed the balance of animal life, and put a term to its existence. Such, in my opinion, was the Dodo,—a colossal, brevipennate, frugivorous pigeon."—(P. 40.)

For the various osteological and other details by which the Columbine character of the Dodo is maintained, and as we think established, we must refer our readers to Mr Strickland's volume,[22] where those parts of the subject are very skilfully worked out by his able coadjutor, Dr Melville.

We shall now proceed to notice certain other extinct species which form the dead relations of the Dodo, just as the pigeons continue to represent the tribe from which they have departed. The island Rodriguez, placed about three hundred miles eastward of the Mauritius, though not more than fifteen miles long by six broad, possessed in modern times a peculiar bird, also without effective wings, and in several other respects resembling the Dodo. It was named Solitaire by the early voyagers, and forms the species Didus solitarius of systematic writers. The small island in question seems to have remained in a desert and unpeopled state until 1691, when a party of French Protestant refugees settled upon it, and remained for a couple of years. The Solitaire is thus described by their commander, Francois Leguat, who (in his Voyage et Avantures, 1708) has given us an interesting account both of his own doings in general, and of this species in particular.

"Of all the birds in the island, the most remarkable is that which goes by the name of the Solitary, because it is very seldom seen in company, though there are abundance of them. The feathers of the male are of a brown-gray colour, the feet and beak are like a turkey's, but a little more crooked. They have scarce any tail, but their hind part, covered with feathers, is roundish like the crupper of a horse: they are taller than turkeys; their neck is straight, and a little longer in proportion than a turkey's, when it lifts up its head. Its eye is black and lively, and its head without comb or cap. They never fly; their wings are too little to support the weight of their bodies; they serve only to beat themselves, and to flutter when they call one another. They will whirl about for twenty or thirty times together on the same side, during the space of four or five minutes. The motion of their wings makes then a noise very much like that of a rattle, and one may hear it two hundred paces off. The bone of their wing grows greater towards the extremity, and forms a little round mass under the feathers, as big as a musket-ball. That and its beak are the chief defence of this bird. 'Tis very hard to catch it in the woods, but easier in open places, because we run faster than they, and sometimes we approach them without much trouble. From March to September they are extremely fat, and taste admirably well, especially while they are young; some of the males weigh forty-five pounds.

"The females" continues our enamoured author, "are wonderfully beautiful, some fair, some brown,—I call them fair, because they are of the colour of fair hair. They have a sort of peak like a widow's upon their beak, which is of a dun colour. No one feather is straggling from the other all over their bodies, they being very careful to adjust themselves, and make them all even with their beaks. The feathers on their thighs are round like shells at the end, and, being there very thick, have an agreeable effect. They have two risings on their crops, and the feathers are whiter there than the rest, which lively represents the fair neck of a beautiful woman. They walk with so much stateliness and good grace, that one cannot help admiring and loving them; by which means their fine mien often saves their lives. Though these birds will sometimes very familiarly come up near enough to one, when we do not run after them, yet they will never grow tame. As soon as they are caught they shed tears without crying, and refuse all manner of meat till they die."—(P. 71.)

Their natural food is the fruit of a species of plantain. When these birds are about to build, they select a clean place, and then gather together a quantity of palm-leaves, which they heap up about a foot and a half high, and there they sit. They never lay but one egg, which greatly exceeds that of a goose. Some days after the young one has left the nest, a company of thirty or forty grown-up birds brings another young one to it; and the new-fledged bird, with its father and mother, joining with the band, they all march away to some by-place.

"We frequently followed them," says Leguat, "and found that afterwards the old ones went each their way alone, or in couples, and left the two young ones together, and this we called a marriage. This particularity has something in it which looks a little fabulous; nevertheless what I say is sincere truth, and what I have more than once observed with care and pleasure."

Leguat gives a figure of this singular bird, which in his plate has somewhat of the air and aspect of a Christmas goose, although, of course, it wants the web-feet. Its neck and legs are proportionally longer than those parts of the Dodo, and give it more of a struthious appearance: but the existing osteological evidence is sufficient to show that it was closely allied to that bird, and shared with it in some peculiar affinities to the pigeon tribe. It is curious that, although Rodriguez is a British settlement, we have scarcely any information regarding it beyond what is to be found in the work last quoted, and all that we have since learned of the Solitary is that it has become extinct. Of late years Mr Telfair made inquiries of one of the colonists, who assured him that no such bird now existed on the island; and the same negative result was obtained by Mr Higgins, a Liverpool gentleman, who, after suffering shipwreck on Rodriguez, resided there for a couple of months. As far back as 1789, some bones incrusted by a stalagmite, and erroneously supposed to belong to the Dodo, were found in a cave in Rodriguez by a M. Labistour. They afterwards found their way to Paris, where they may still be seen. We are informed (Proceedings of the Zoological Society, Part I. p. 31) that Col. Dawkins recently visited these caverns, and dug without finding any thing but a small bone. But M. Eudes succeeded in disinterring various bones, among others those of a large species of bird no longer found alive upon the island. He adds that the Dutch, who first landed at Rodriguez, left cats there to destroy the rats, which annoyed them. These cats are now so numerous as to prove very destructive to the poultry, and he thinks it probable that these feline wanderers may have extirpated the bird in question, by devouring the young ones as soon as they were hatched,—a destruction which may have been effected even before the island became inhabited by the human race. Be that as it may, Mr Telfair sent collections of the bones to this country, one of which may be seen in the museum of the Andersonian Institution, Glasgow. Mr Strickland mourns over the loss or disappearance of those transmitted to the Zoological Society of London. We have been informed within these few days that, like the head of the Danish Dodo, they have been rediscovered, lying in a stable or other outhouse, in the vicinity of the museum of that Society. Both the Glasgow specimens, and those in Paris, have been carefully examined and compared by Mr Strickland, and their Columbine characters are minutely described by his skilful and accurate coadjutor, Dr Melville, in the second portion of his work. Mr S. very properly regards certain peculiarities, alluded to by Leguat, such as the feeding on dates or plantains, as confirmatory of his view of the natural affinities already mentioned.

So much for the Solitaire of Rodriguez and its affinities.[23] A singular fact, however, remains to be yet attended to in this insular group. The volcanic island of Bourbon seems also to have contained brevi-pennate birds, whose inability to fly has likewise led to their extinction. This island, which lies about a hundred miles south-west of Mauritius, was discovered contemporaneously by Pedro de Mascaregnas, in the sixteenth century. The earliest notice which concerns our present inquiry, is by Captain Castleton, who visited Bourbon in 1613. In the narrative, as given by Purchas, we read as follows:—

"There is store of land-fowl, both small and great, plentie of doves, great parrats, and suchlike, and a great fowl of the bignesse of a turkie, very fat, and so short-winged that they cannot flie, beeing white, and in a manner tame; and so are all other fowles, as having not been troubled nor feared with shot. Our men did beat them down with sticks and stones."—(Ed. 1625, vol. i. p. 331.)

Bontekoe van Hoorn, a Dutch voyager, spent twenty-one days in Bourbon in 1618, and found the island to abound in pigeons, parrots, and other species, among which "there were also Dod-eersen, which have small wings; and so far from being able to fly, they were so fat that they could scarcely walk, and when they tried to run, they dragged their under side along the ground." There is no reason to suppose that these birds were actual Dodos, of the existence of which in Bourbon there is not the slightest proof. That Bontekoe's account was compiled from recollection rather than from any journal written at the time, is almost certain from this tragical fact, that his ship was afterwards blown up, and he himself was the sole survivor. There is no likelihood that he preserved his papers any more than his portmanteau, and he no doubt wrote from remembrance of a large brevipennate bird, whose indolent and unfearing tameness rendered it an easy prey. Knowing that a bird of a somewhat similar nature inhabited the neighbouring island, he took it for the same, and called it Dodo, by a corresponding term.

A Frenchman of the name of CarrÉ visited Bourbon in 1668, and in his Voyages des Indes Orientales, he states as follows:—

"I have seen a kind of bird which I have not found elsewhere; it is that which the inhabitants call the oiseau solitaire, for in fact it loves solitude, and only frequents the most secluded places. One never sees two or more of them together, they are always alone. It is not unlike a turkey, were it not that its legs are longer. The beauty of its plumage is delightful to behold. The flesh is exquisite; it forms one of the best dishes in this country, and might form a dainty at our tables. We wished to keep two of these birds to send to France and present them to his Majesty, but, as soon as they were on board ship, they died of melancholy, having refused to eat or drink."—(Vol. i. p. 12.)

Almost immediately after M. CarrÉ's visit, a French colony was sent from Madagascar to Bourbon, under the superintendence of M. de la Haye. A certain Sieur D. B. (for this is all that is known of his name or designation) was one of the party, and has left a narrative of the expedition in an unpublished journal, acquired by Mr Telfair, and presented by him to the Zoological Society of London. Besides confirming the accounts given by preceding writers, this unknown author affords a conclusive proof that a second species of the same group inhabited the Island of Bourbon. We are indebted to Mr Strickland for the original passages and the following translation:—

1. "Solitaires.—These birds are so called because they always go alone. They are the size of a large goose, and are white, with the tips of the wings and the tail black. The tail-feathers resemble those of an ostrich; the neck is long, and the beak is like that of a woodcock, but larger; the legs and feet like those of turkeys."

2. "Oiseaux bleus, the size of Solitaires, have the plumage wholly blue, the beak and feet red, resembling the feet of a hen. They do not fly, but they run extremely fast, so that a dog can hardly overtake them; they are very good eating."

There is proof that one or other of these singular and now unknown birds existed in Bourbon, at least till toward the middle of the last century. M. Billiard, who resided there between 1817 and 1820, states (in his Voyages aux Colonies Orientales) that, at the time of the first colonisation of the island, "the woods were filled with birds which were not alarmed at the approach of man. Among them was the Dodo or Solitaire, which was pursued on foot: they were still to be seen in the time of M. de la Bourdonnaye, who sent a specimen, as a curiosity, to one of the directors of the company." As the gentleman last named was governor of the Isles of France and Bourbon from 1735 to 1746, these birds, Mr Strickland observes, must have survived to the former, and may have continued to the latter date at least. But when M. Bory St Vincent made a careful survey of the island in 1801, no such species were to be found. The description of the bill and plumage shows that they were not genuine Dodos, but merely entitled to be classed among their kindred. Not a vestige of their remains is in the hands of naturalists, either in this or any other country.

We have now finished, under Mr Strickland's guidance, our exposition of this curious group. The restriction, at any time, of such large birds to islands of so small a size, is certainly singular. We cannot, however, say what peculiar and unknown geological changes these islands may have undergone, by which their extent has been diminished, or their inter-connexion destroyed. Volcanic groups, such as those in question, are no doubt generally of less ancient origin than most others; but it is by no means unlikely that these islands of Rodriguez, Bourbon, and Mauritius, may once have formed a united group, or much more expanded mass of terra firma than they now exhibit; and that, by their partial submergence and separation, the dominions of the Dodo and its kindred have, like those of many other heavy chieftains of high degree, been greatly diminished and laid low. But into this question of ancient boundaries we cannot now enter.

How pleasant, on some resplendent summer evening, in such a delicious clime as that of the Mauritius, the sun slowly sinking amid a gorgeous blaze of light, and gilding in green and gold the spreading summits of the towering palms,—the murmuring sea sending its refreshing vesper-breathings through all the "pillared shades" which stretch along that glittering shore,—how pleasant, we say, for wearied man to sit in leafy umbrage, and sup on Dodos and their kindred! Alas! we shall never see such days again.

Dr Hamel, as native of a northern country, is fond of animal food, and has his senses, naturally sharp enough, so whetted thereby, that he becomes "sagacious of his quarry from afar." He judiciously observes, in his recent memoir, (Der Dodo, &c.,) that in Leguat's map the place is accurately indicated where the common kitchen of the settlers stood, and where the great tree grew under which they used to sit, on a bench, to take their meals. Both tree and bench are marked upon the map. "At these two spots," says Dr Hamel, "it is probable that the bones of a complete skeleton of Leguat's solitaire might be collected; those of the head and feet on the site of the kitchen, and the sternum and other bones on that of the tree."

"I feel confident," says Mr Strickland, "that if active naturalists would make a series of excavations in the alluvial deposits, in the beds of streams, and amid the ruins of old institutions in Mauritius, Bourbon, and Rodriguez, he would speedily discover the remains of the dodo, the two 'solitaires,' or the 'oiseau bleu.' But I would especially direct attention to the caves with which these volcanic islands abound. The chief agents in the destruction of the brevipennate birds were probably the runaway negroes, who for many years infested the primeval forests of these islands, and inhabited the caverns, where they would doubtless leave the scattered bones of the animals on which they fed. Here, then, may we more especially hope to find the osseous remains of these remarkable animals."—(P. 61.)

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