“At Big Bone Lick, thirty miles above the mouth of Kentucky River, I saw them in great numbers. They came screaming through the woods in the morning, about an hour after sunrise, to drink the salt water, of which they, as well as the pigeons, are remarkably fond. When they alighted on the ground, it appeared at a distance as if covered with a carpet of the richest green, orange and yellow; they afterward settled in one body on a neighboring tree, which stood detached from any other, covering almost every twig of it, and the sun shining strongly on their gay and glossy plumage, produced a very beautiful and splendid appearance. Here I had an opportunity of observing some very particular traits of their character: Having shot down a number, some of which were only wounded, the whole flock swept repeatedly around their prostrate companions, and again settled on a low tree within twenty yards of the spot where I stood. At each successive discharge, though showers of them fell, still the affection of the survivors seemed rather to increase; for, after a few circuits around the place, they again alighted near me, looking down on their slaughtered companions with such manifest symptoms of sympathy and concern, as completely disarmed me. I could not but take notice of the remarkable contrast between their elegant manner of flight and their lame and crawling gait among the branches. They fly very much like the Wild Pigeon, in close compact bodies, and with great rapidity, making a loud and outrageous screaming, not unlike that of the Red-headed Woodpecker. Their flight is sometimes in a direct line, but most usually circuitous, making a great variety of elegant and easy serpentine meanders, as if for pleasure. They are particularly attached to the large sycamore, in the hollow of the trunks and branches of which they generally roost, thirty or forty, or more, entering at the same hole. Here they cling closely to the sides of the trees, holding fast by the claws, and also by the bills. They appear fond of sleep, and often retire to their holes during the day, probably to take their regular _siesta_. They are extremely sociable, and fond of each other, often scratching each other’s heads and necks, and always at night nestling as close as possible to each other, preferring at that time a perpendicular position, supported by their bill and claws. In the fall, when their favorite cockle-burs are ripe, they swarm along the coast or high ground of the Mississippi, above New Orleans, for a great extent. At such times they are killed and eaten by many of the inhabitants; though, I confess, I think their flesh is very indifferent. I have several times dined on it from necessity, in the woods, but found it merely passable, with all the sauce of a keen appetite to recommend it.” [Illustration] THE WASHINGTON EAGLE. (_Haliætus Washingtonii._)