The black guillemot differs from the foolish guillemot (Uria troile) only in the colour of its plumage, which, with the exception of a large white patch on the coverts of each wing, is black, silky, and glossy; the feathers appearing to be all unwebbed, like silky filaments or fine hair. The bill, in all the species, is slender, strong, and pointed; the upper mandible bending slightly near the end, and the base covered with soft short feathers. The food of the guillemot consists of fish and other marine products.

The Alcidæ, or auks, are also included amongst the Arctic birds. The little auk (Arctica alca) frequents the countries stretching northwards from our latitudes to the regions of perpetual ice, and is found in the Polar Regions both of the Old World and the New. Here, indeed, they congregate in almost innumerable flocks. At early morn they sally forth to get their breakfast, which consists of different varieties of marine invertebrates, chiefly crustaceans, with which the Arctic waters teem. Then they return to the shore in immense swarms. It would be impossible, says an Arctic voyager, to convey an adequate idea of the numbers of these birds which swarmed around him. The slope on both sides of the valley in which he had pitched his camp rose at an angle of about forty-five degrees to a distance of from 300 to 500 feet, where it met the cliffs, which stood about 700 feet higher. These hill-sides are composed of the loose rocks detached from the cliffs by the action of the frost. The birds crawl among these rocks, winding far in through narrow places, and there deposit their eggs and hatch their young, secure from their great enemy, the Arctic fox.

On one occasion, they were congregated along a slope, fully a mile in length, and over this slope rushed a constant stream of birds, only a few feet above the stones; and, after making in their rapid flight the whole length of the hill, they returned higher in the air, performing over and over again the complete circuit. Occasionally a few hundreds or thousands of them would drop down, as if following some leader; and in an instant the rocks, for a space of several rods, would swarm all over with them, their black backs and pure white breasts speckling the hill very prettily.

Though quantities are destroyed by the crews of vessels as well as by the Eskimos, their numbers never seem to decrease. Their flesh is both wholesome and delicate, and affords a welcome change of diet to the mariner weary of salt meat and pemmican. They are very tame, and easily captured,—in some places being actually caught in hand-nets, like moths or butterflies; and they pass a great portion of their time on the ocean, where they disport themselves with equal grace and self-possession.

The starakis (Phaleridinæ) inhabit the archipelagoes which lie between China and North America. They assemble in small flocks, and swim about in quest of the crustaceans, molluscs, and other marine animals on which they feed. At nightfall they return to land, where they find shelter under the ledges of the rocks, or in burrows dug with their bill and feet, The female lays a solitary egg.

The auks abound in the high northern latitudes. They are all ocean-birds, and are never found, like the divers, in fresh-water streams and lakes. Those species which possess the power of flight nestle on the rocky cliffs and icebergs, where they lay a single egg, of conical form; a shape which prevents it from rolling away, or moving, except within a very narrow circle, on the bare rocky ledge where it is deposited.

The puffins (Fratercola), which in winter abound on our own shores, live chiefly on the water. They dive and swim with dexterity, but, owing to the shortness of their wings, are capable only of limited flight. Their plumage is thick, smooth, and dense, and so completely throws off the water that it is quite impervious to wet; while their deep, compressed, and pointed beak, resembling exactly a double keel, is admirably adapted as an instrument for cutting the waves when the bird wishes to dive.

The puffins live principally upon sprats and other small fishes; and the food intended for their young they retain until partially digested, when they disgorge it into their mouths. Like all the auks, the mother-bird lays but one egg.

The appearance of an island or iceberg frequented by these birds is very vividly sketched by Audubon, than whom no naturalist has ever more completely attained a thorough acquaintance with the Bird-World.

He tells us that on every crag or stone stood a puffin, at the entrance of every hole another, and yet the sea was covered and the air filled with them. The burrows were all inhabited by young birds, of different ages and sizes; and clouds of puffins flew over us, each individual holding a small fish by the head. The burrows all communicated with each other in various ways, so that the whole island seemed to be perforated by a multitude of subterranean labyrinths, over which it was impossible to run without the risk of falling at almost every step. The voices of the young sounded beneath the traveller’s foot like voices from the grave, and the stench was exceedingly disagreeable.

Something must next be said of the mergansers (Merginæ), a sub-family of the palmipeds, which also belong to the Polar world. Their principal characters may thus be stated: a straight bill, much compressed on the sides, and convex towards the tip, which is furnished with a broad and much-hooked nail; the wings are moderate, and pointed; the tail is short and rounded; the tarsi are short, and the toes moderate, the outer being as long as the middle, the three anterior ones united by a full web, while the hind toe is moderate, elevated, and provided with a broad web on its margin.

From these characters it is easy to infer that the bird is aquatic in its habits; that it can swim and dive well; that it is also capable of strong, swift flight; and that its food will consist chiefly of fishes.

The dun diver or goosander (Mergus merganser) is widely distributed throughout the Polar Regions both of the eastern and western continents. During its southern migration, it visits the United States, as well as France, Holland, and Germany; but on the approach of summer it retires to Siberia and Kamtschatka, Iceland, Greenland, and the Arctic shores of North America.

In these localities it constructs its nest—always near the edge of the water; building it up of grass, roots, and similar materials, with little regard to symmetry, and lining it with down. It is placed sometimes among the mossy, weedy stones; and sometimes it is concealed in the long grass, or under the cover of bushes, or in the stumps or hollows of decayed trees. The female lays from twelve to fourteen eggs, of a cream-yellow colour; their form is a long oval, both ends being equally obtuse. The goosander may be said to spend its time in the air and on the water; and, in truth, on the land it moves but laboriously and awkwardly, owing to the backward position of its legs. It rises with difficulty from the ground; but when once on the wing, its course is swift, strong, and steady. As it lives mainly upon fish, its flesh is oily and ill-flavoured; a circumstance which goes far to compensate the sportsman for the frequent failure of his attempts to capture it. It is a wild and wary bird, and as it swims with rapidity and dives with ease, it generally effects its escape from all but the most experienced hunters.

Another species which abounds in northern latitudes is the smew (Mergus albellus), also known as the white nun or white merganser. This palmiped is about the size of a widgeon; is of elegant form; and its plumage beautifully coloured with black and white. Its bill is of a dusky blue, nearly two inches long, thickest at the base, and tapering into a slenderer and more narrow shape towards the point. An oval black patch, glossed with green, marks each side of the head; the under part of the crest is black; but all the rest of the head and neck, as well as the graceful breast and the belly, are white as snow, with the exception of a curved black line on each side of the upper part of the breast, and similar marks on the lower part; the back, the coverts on the ridge of the wings, and the primary quills are black; the secondaries and greater coverts are white-tipped; while the sides of the body, under the wings to the tail, exhibit a curious variegation of dark wavy lines. The legs and feet are of a leaden blue.

The range of the smew is very extensive, for it migrates as far southward as the Mediterranean, while it is found everywhere in the Arctic Regions.

On the shores of Novaia Zemlaia, as on those of Spitzbergen, the sea-birds arrive in countless hosts as soon as the summer sun has removed the long and dreary spell under which Nature labours through the winter months. The narrow rock-ledges on which they congregate, and where auks and guillemots assemble in thousands, the Russians call “a bazaar.” The large gray sea-mew (Larus glaucus), the “burgomaster” of the Dutch whalers, prefers the lonely summits of isolated cliffs, where it can reign the monarch of all it surveys. The ivory gull (Larus eburneus) is seldom found in high northern latitudes; but the common gull (Larus canus) and the black-backed gull (Larus marinus) are almost as abundant as guillemots.

In Iceland one of the most useful, and certainly not the least beautiful, of the birds is the eider-duck (Somateria mollissima), which also frequents the shores of Baffin and Hudson Bays, Lapland, Greenland, and Spitzbergen. It loves to breed on the small flat islands which lie off the coast, such as Akeney, Flutry, and Videy, where it is secure from the attacks of the Arctic fox. Its breeding-places in Iceland are private property, and some of them have been for centuries in the possession of the same families, which owe to the birds all their wealth and prosperity. Hence they are very vigilantly guarded. Whoever kills one is fined thirty dollars; and to secrete an egg, or pocket a few downs, is an offence punishable by law. The chief occupation of some of the proprietors is to examine through their telescopes all the boats that approach, so as to be sure that there are no guns on board.

As the birds on these islands are quite tame, the eider-down is easily collected. The female having laid five or six pale greenish-olive eggs, in a nest fashioned with marine plants, and thickly lined with down of the most exquisite delicacy, the collectors carefully remove her, rob the nest of its precious lining, and then replace the bird. Immediately she begins to lay afresh, and again has recourse to the down on her body to protect her eggs; and should her own stock be exhausted, as is not unfrequently the case, she is furnished with an auxiliary supply by the male. Even this second lining is often taken away, and the poor bird a third time repeats the process, both as regards the eggs and the down; but if the plunderers do not spare her now, she afterwards abandons the nest, and seeks a home in some more sequestered nook.

As it comes to the European markets, this down, which is highly valued on account of its lightness, elasticity, and warmth, occurs in balls about the size of a man’s fist, and weighing from three to four pounds. Such is its fineness and elastic quality, that when a ball is opened, and cautiously laid near the fire to expand, it will completely fill a quilt five feet square. It should be noted, however, that the down from dead birds is of comparatively little value, having lost its elasticity.

An interesting account of a visit to Vigr in the Isafjardardjufs, a favourite resort of the eider-duck in the north of Iceland, is furnished by Mr. Shepherd:—

As he approached the island, he says, he could see flocks upon flocks of the sacred birds, and could hear their cooings at a great distance. Landing on a rocky wave-worn shore, against which the waters scarcely rippled, he set off to survey the island. The shore he describes as “the most wonderful ornithological sight imaginable.” The ducks and their nests were everywhere. Great brown ducks started up under his feet at every step; and it was with difficulty that he avoided treading on some of the nests. As the island is but three-quarters of a mile across, the opposite shore is soon reached. On the coast was a wall built up of large stones, just above the high-water mark, about three feet high, and of considerable thickness. At the bottom, on both sides of it, alternate stones had been left out, forming a series of square compartments in which the ducks might make their nests. Almost every compartment was occupied; and as the human intruder walked along the shore, a long line of startled ducks flew out one after the other. The surface of the water also was white with ducks, who welcomed their “brown wives” with loud and clamorous cooing.

Mr. Shepherd, on arriving at the farm-house, was received in the most hospitable manner, hospitality being one of the special virtues of the Icelander. He was much impressed by the appearance of the house, which seemed to be converted into one large duckery. The earthen wall surrounding it, and the window-embrasures, were filled with ducks; on the ground, encircling the house, was a ring of ducks; on the sloping roof were seated ducks; and a duck was perched on the door-scraper!

A grassy bank close by had been cut into square patches like a chess-board (a square of turf of about eighteen inches being removed, and a hollow excavated), and all these squares were occupied by ducks. A windmill was infested with them, and so were all the out houses, mounds, rocks, and crevices. In fact, the ducks were everywhere. Many of them were so tame as to allow the stranger to stroke them on their nests; and their mistress said there was scarcely a duck on the island which would not allow her to take its eggs without flight or fear. When she first became possessor of the island, the produce of down from the ducks did not exceed fifteen pounds weight in the year, but under her careful nurture it had risen, in twenty years, to nearly one hundred pounds annually. About a pound and a half are required to make a coverlet for a single bed; and the down is worth from twelve to fifteen shillings per pound. Most of the eggs are taken and pickled for winter consumption, one or two only being left to hatch.

Eider-ducks congregate in numerous flocks, generally in deep water; they dive with wonderful force, and thus are enabled to capture the shell-fish which form their principal food. If a storm threatens, they retire to the rocky shores where they love to breed and rest. The Greenlanders kill them with darts, pursuing them in their little boats, watching their course by the air-bubbles that come floating upward when they dive, and dexterously aiming at them as soon as they rise to the surface wearied. Their flesh is eaten by the Greenlanders, but it is not well-flavoured; their eggs, however, are held in high esteem.

The king eider (Somateria spectabilis) belongs to the same genus as the former.

We suppose that every reader is acquainted with the beautiful lines in which Tennyson has embodied the fable of the dying swan singing its own dirge:—

But the wild swan’s voice, even in its death-hour, has no such musical sweetness as the poet here sets forth. It is always harsh and dissonant, and when it breaks on the silence of the Arctic skies carries with it an almost painful impression.

The lakes of Iceland, and its streams, abound with these beautiful birds. They are very numerous on the Myvatn, or Great Lake, as well as the wild duck, the scoter, the common goosander, the red-breasted merganser, the scaup duck, and other anserines. The wild swan is shot or caught for its feathers, which are highly prized for ornamental purposes. It is sometimes found in large flocks, sometimes in single pairs; and besides the lakes and streams, it frequents the salt and brackish waters along the coast. It is chiefly at the pairing season, or at the approach of winter, that it assembles in multitudes; and as the winter advances it mounts high in air, and shapes its course in search of milder climates.

The female builds her nest of the withered leaves and stalks of reeds and rushes, in lonely and sequestered places. She usually lays six or seven thick-shelled eggs, which are hatched in about six weeks, when both parents assiduously guard and feed the cygnets. When full-grown, this fine bird measures nearly five feet in length, and above seven in breadth across its extended wings; it weighs about fifteen pounds. The entire plumage is of a pure white, and next to the skin lies a coat of thick fine down.

The wealth of the Arctic and sub-Arctic seas is apparently inexhaustible. In many parts cod are plentiful, and supply the Greenlanders with a valuable article of food. The capelin (Mullotus vitlosus), which in May and June frequents the Greenland waters, is eaten both fresh and dried; in the latter case forming a useful winter provision. The halibut is found of a large size; and ocean also contributes the Norway haddock, the salmon-trout, the lump-fish, and the bull-head. Nor are the crustacea unrepresented: long-tailed crabs being abundant, while the common mussel may be gathered almost everywhere at ebb-tide. The seas, however, grow poorer as we advance towards the Pole, and many important species of fish do not penetrate further north than the Arctic Circle.

Yet even where these are wanting, the ocean-waters teem with life; and a recent writer is fully justified in remarking that the vast multitudes of animated beings which people them form a remarkable contrast to the nakedness of their bleak and desolate shores. The colder surface-waters are, as he says, almost perpetually exposed to a cold atmosphere, and being frequently covered, even in summer, with floating ice, they are not favourable to the development of organic life; but this adverse influence is modified by the higher temperature which constantly prevails at a greater depth. Contrary to the rule in the Equatorial seas, we find in the Polar-ocean an increase of temperature from the surface downwards, in consequence of the warmer under-currents, flowing from the south northwards, and passing beneath the cold waters of the superficial Arctic current.

Hence the awful rigour of the Arctic winter, which strikes the earth with a death-blight, is not perceptible in the ocean-depths, where myriads of organisms find a secure retreat from the frost, and whence they emerge during the long summer’s day, either to haunt the shores or ascend the broad rivers of the Polar world. Between the parallels of 74° and 80°, Dr. Scoresby observed that the colour of the Greenland sea varies from the purest ultramarine to olive-green, and from crystalline transparency to striking opacity; and these appearances are not transitory, but permanent.[8] The aspect of this green semi-opaque water, which varies in its locality with the currents,—often forming isolated stripes, and sometimes spreading over two or three degrees of latitude,—is mainly due to small medusæ and nudibranchiate molluscs. Many thousands of square miles must literally run riot with life, since the coloured waters we speak of are calculated to form one-fourth of the sea between the 74th and 80th parallels.

On the Greenland coast, where the transparency of the waters is so great that the bottom and every object upon it are clearly discernible, even at a depth of eighty fathoms, the ocean-bed is covered with gigantic tangles, so as to remind the spectator of the ocean-gardens of the Tropical Zone. Alcyonians, sertularians, ascidians, nullipores, mussels, and a variety of other sessile animals incrust every stone, or congregate in every fissure and hollow of the rocky ground. A dead seal or fish flung into the sea is soon converted into a skeleton, it is said, by the myriads of small crustaceans which infest these northern waters, and, like the ants in the equatorial forests, perform the part of scavengers of the deep.

It is evident, from the observations of Professor Forbes, that depth has a very considerable influence in the distribution of marine life. From the surface to the depth of 1380 feet eight distinct zones or regions have been mapped out in the sea, each of which has its own vegetation and inhabitants; and the number of these regions must now he increased, after the astonishing results of the deep-sea soundings of Dr. Carpenter and Professor Wyville Thomson. The changes in the different zones are not abrupt: some of the creatures of an under region always appear before those of the region above it vanish; and though there are a few species the same in some of the eight zones, only two are common to all. It is to be observed that those near the surface have forms and colours analogous to the inhabitants of southern latitudes, while those at a greater depth are analogous to the animals of northern waters. Hence, in the sea, depth corresponds with latitude, as height does on land. Mrs. Somerville adds, in language of much terseness, that the extent of the geographical distribution of any species is proportioned to the depth at which it lives. Consequently, those which live near the surface are less widely dispersed than those inhabiting deep water.

The larger and more active inhabitants of the seas obey the same laws with the rest of creation, though their provinces, or regions, are in some instances very extensive. Above the 44th parallel the Atlantic species frequently correspond with those of the Pacific. The salmon of America is identical with that of the British Isles, and the coasts of Sweden and Norway; the same is true of the Gadidæ, or cod. The Cottas, or bull-head tribe, are also the same on both sides of the Atlantic; increasing in numbers and specific differences on approaching the Arctic seas. The same law holds good in the North Pacific, but the generic forms differ from those in the Atlantic. From the propinquity of the coasts of America and Asia at Behring Strait, the fish on both sides are nearly alike, down to Admiralty Inlet on the one side, and the Sea of Okhotsk on the other.