THE NINTH FAMILY OF THE FISSIROSTRAL PICARIAN BIRDS.—THE TROGONS (Trogonidæ).
These beautiful birds are found both in the Old World and the New, but are inhabitants of the tropical latitudes only. In Africa two species only are known, nor does another species occur until the coast of India is reached, and then in the forests of the peninsula and of the Himalayas there are some beautiful red-breasted representatives of the family, whence throughout the Malayan peninsula and the Sunda Islands some of the handsomest Trogons occur. But it is in America, from Mexico southwards, that the larger number of species is met with, no less than thirty-three out of a total of forty-six Trogons being peculiar to the New World. Their habits vary somewhat, as all the Old World members are insectivorous, while the American species principally feed on fruit, and only devour insects in a secondary manner. The Trogons may be distinguished not only by their broadened bill, but by the foot, where the first and second toes are turned permanently, two in front and two behind. This is a different arrangement to that of the Cuckoos and otherclimbingPicariæ, where the fourth toe is permanently or temporarily turned backwards as well as the first. The skin of these birds is remarkably thin and tender, so that their preparation is by no means an easy matter, and their appearance is also detracted from by a scantiness of plumage on the nape, where a great want of feathers takes place. Mr. Wallace, writing of the birds of this present family, remarks:—“As an instance how totally unable the Trogons are to use their feet for anything like climbing, we may mention that the Trogons of South America feed principally on fruit, which one would think they would get by climbing or walking after, if they could. But no; they take their station on a bare branch about the middle of the tree, and having fixed their attention on some particularly tempting fruit, they dart at it, seize it dexterously on the wing, and return to their original seat. Often, while waiting under a fruit-tree for Chatterers or Pigeons, have we received the first intimation of the presence of a Trogon by thewhir-r-rof its wings as it darted after a fruit. It is curious that this habit seems confined to the Trogons of America. In the East I have never yet observed it, and in the numerous specimens I have opened, nothing has been found but insects. The African Trogons also appear to be wholly insectivorous.”
Again, in his “Naturalist in Nicaragua” (p. 122) Mr. Belt writes:—“The Trogons are general feeders. I have taken from their crops the remains of fruits, grasshoppers, beetles, termites, and even small crabs and land shells. The largest species, the Massena Trogon (Trogon massena), is one foot in length, dark bronze-green above, with the smaller wing-feathers speckled white and black, and the belly of a beautiful carmine. Sometimes it sits on a branch above where the army of ants are foraging below, and when a grasshopper or other large insect flies up and alights on a leaf it darts after it, picks it up, and returns to its perch. I sometimes found them breaking into the, nests of the termites with their strong bills, and eating the large soft-bodied workers, and it was from the crop of this species that I took the remains of a small crab and land shell (Helicina). They take short, quick, jerking flights, and are often met with along with flocks of other birds—Flycatchers, Tanagers, Creepers, Woodpeckers, &c., that hunt together, traversing the forests in flocks of hundreds, belonging to more than a score of different species, so that while they are passing over the trees seem alive with them. Mr. Bates has mentioned similar gregarious flocks met with by him in Brazil; and I never went any distance into the woods around St. Domingo without seeing them. The reason of their association together may be partly for protection, as no rapacious bird or mammal could approach the flock without being discovered by one or other of them; but the principal reason appears to be that they play into each other’s hands in their search for food. Creepers and Woodpeckers and others drive the insects out of their hiding-places under bark, amongst moss and withered leaves. The Flycatchers sit on branches and fly after the larger insects, the Flycatchers taking them on the wing, the Trogons from the leaves on which they have settled.”
THE LONG-TAILED TROGON, OR QUESAL (Pharomacrus[280]mocinno).
This beautiful species is mentioned in Willughby’s Ornithology, which was published some two hundred years ago, in which book an appendix is devoted to such birds as the author suspected to be “fabulous;” and the Quetzaltototl of Hernandez was placed in this category, nor was it till the French traveller Delattre visited Guatemala, and published his account of the habits of the bird in 1843, that it was restored to its proper position as one of the most beautiful of the feathered tribe: it is now by no means rare in collections. The best account of the habits of this species—and, indeed, of any Trogon—is that given by Mr. Osbert Salvin, in his paper entitled “Quesal-shooting in Vera Paz,”[281]in Guatemala. He writes from his diary:—“Off to the mountains at last, with a fine day and a fair prospect of success. The road, after crossing the river, strikes off to the northward—a mountain track winding among the hills. Soon after entering the forest, a river crosses the path—a foaming torrent—a fall into which gives no hope of escape. A felled tree, one of the largest of the forest, forms the bridge, over which, slippery with moss and foam, we have to pass. For ourselves it is nothing; but I must say I tremble for the Indians, each of whom carries his 75 lbs. of cargo. In the worst and most slippery part, the foothold is somewhat improved by the tree being notched with a ‘machete;’ but still it is as dangerous a pass as I ever crossed. After half-an-hour’s delay, we reach the other bank. One ‘mozo’ only turned faint-hearted, and another carried his pack across. Fromthe river the path becomes very precipitous, and we continue to climb till we reach the foot of a rock, where we find a deserted rancho, and take possession. A fire having been made to heat the pixtones, we dine, and afterwards start for the forest close by to look for Quesals. On entering, the path takes the unpleasant form of a succession of felled trees, which are slippery from recent rains, and render progress slow. My companions are ahead, and I am just balancing myself along the last trunk, when Filipe comes back to say that they have heard a Quesal. Of course, being especially anxious to watch as well as to shoot one of these birds myself, I immediately hurry to the spot. I sit down upon my wide-awake in most approved style close to Cipriano, who is calling the bird, and wait, all eyes and ears, for the result. I have not to wait long. A distant clattering note indicates that the bird is on the wing. He settles—a splendid male—on a bough of a tree, not seventy yards from where we are hidden. Cipriano wants to creep up to within shot, but I keep him back, wishing to risk the chance of losing a specimen rather than miss such an opportunity of seeing the bird in its living state, and of watching its movements. It sits almost motionless on its perch, the body remaining in the same position, the head only moving slowly from side to side. The tail does not hang quite perpendicularly, the angle between the true tail and the vertical being perhaps as much as fifteen or twenty degrees. The tail is occasionally jerked open and closed again, and now and then slightly raised, causing the long tail-coverts to vibrate gracefully. I have not seen all. A ripe fruit catches the Quesal’s eye, and he darts from his perch, hovers for a moment, plucks the berry, and returns to his former position. This is done with a degree of elegance that defies description. The remark has often been made by persons looking at stuffed Humming-birds, ‘What lovely little things these must look in life, when they are flying about!’ But they do not. Place a Humming-bird twenty yards from you, and what do you see of its colours, except in the most favourable position and light? This is not the case with the Quesal. The rich metallic green of the head, back, and tail-coverts reflects its colour in every position, whilst the deep scarlet of the breast and the white of the tail show vividly at a distance, and contrast with the principal colour of the body. The living Quesal strikes the eye by its colour at once. It stands unequalled for splendour among birds of the New World, and is hardly surpassed among those of the Old. Such are my reflections, when a low whistle from Cipriano calls the bird nearer, and a moment afterwards it is in my hand—the first Quesal I have seen and shot.
LONG-TAILED TROGON, OR QUESAL.⇒LARGER IMAGE
LONG-TAILED TROGON, OR QUESAL.
⇒LARGER IMAGE
“The cries of the Quesal are various. They consist principally of a low double note, ‘whe-oo,whe-oo,’ which the bird repeats, whistling it softly at first, and then gradually swelling it into a loud but not unmelodious cry. This is often succeeded by a long note, which begins low, and after swelling, dies away as it began. Both these notes can be easily imitated by the human voice. The bird’s other cries are harsh and discordant. They are best imitated by doubling a pliant leaf over the first fingers, which must be held about two inches apart. The two edges of the leaf being then placed in the mouth, and the breath drawn in, the required sound is produced. Cipriano was an adept at imitating these cries, but I failed in producing them for want of practice. When searching for Quesals, the hunter whistles as he walks along, here and there sitting down and repeating the other notes. As soon as he hears a bird answering at a distance he stops, and imitates the bird’s cries until it has approached near enough to enable him either to shoot it from where he stands, or to creep up to within shot. The female generally flies up first, and perches on a tree near the hunter, who takes no notice of her, but continues calling till the male, who usually quickly follows the female, appears. Should the male not show himself, the hunter will sometimes shoot the female. Thus it is that so large a proportion of males are shot. The flight of the Quesal is rapid and straight; the long tail-feathers, which never seem to be in his way, stream after him. The bird is never found except in forests composed of the highest trees, the lower branches of which (i.e., those at about two-thirds of the height of the tree from the ground) seem to be its favourite resort. Its food consists principally of fruit, but occasionally a caterpillar may be found in its stomach.”
The distinguishing character of this fine Trogon is the long tail of the male bird, which measures about three feet in length. The colour of the upper parts is golden green, as well as the throat and fore neck; the breast is bright scarlet, and is overshadowed by some beautiful drooping plumes, which spring from the shoulders, and hang gracefully over the wings; the outer tail-feathers are white, with black bases, and the bill is yellow. The female has a black bill, and is much smaller, and she does not possess the long tail and decorative plumes of the male.