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CHAMPION 2

TOURNAMENT
JACK PORTER
Copyright © 2020 by Jack Porter
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
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written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
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 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35

Also by Jack Porter

CHAPTER 1

T he opening ceremony was far more impressive than I had

anticipated.
This was, to my understanding, just a qualifying event. Yet the
arena in which it was held would have been a match for any
stadium in my old world and then some. There were literally tens of
thousands of people, perhaps hundreds of thousands already in the
stands, cheering as the House champions paraded before them.
The noise was deafening. It was like an Olympic event, a final in
an international tournament, or perhaps a concert where a mega
performer like Freddie Mercury had come back to life to deliver a
show.
For some reason, my memories of my past life were clearer just
at that moment than they had been for some weeks. Or perhaps it
was the familiarity, the sense that even though I’d somehow found
myself inhabiting a new body in a new world, it wasn’t that much
different from where I’d come from.
All I knew was that the sights, the sounds, the sheer press of
people all around seemed to fill me up. I couldn’t help but grin at it
all, at the color, the sense of something important happening.
House Amberclaw, as a smaller, less powerful House, had been
among the first to arrive. As House champion, I’d stepped out
ahead of my companions, and I hadn’t been able to keep from
grinning and waving at the crowd.
Behind me, twin guards in their beetle-shell armor waved huge
banners in orange and black, House Amberclaw’s colors. Behind
them, my mentors had walked in a group. Masters Ruthnol and
Amort, Mistresses Sylvian, Aylin, Jaylin, Marielle and Sandria.
Masters of the martial arts one and all, all by themselves, they
would have been an impressive sight.
But this world seemed to take pomp and ceremony much more
seriously than my own had ever done.
A full company of guards, perhaps one hundred strong, all in full
armor and bristling with weapons, marched to the beat of an
oversized drum on a large trolley pulled by a handful of men.
All for the apparent protection of the Amberclaw champion.
All for me.
But if I thought that somehow, that made me special, then the
mere fact that one hundred soldiers was the least number
permitted to any of the competing Houses dissuaded me of that
notion very quickly.
Once we had completed our parade and reached our designated
place from which to watch the rest, Marielle once more resumed her
unofficial role as my guide.
“The number of guards permitted to each House depends upon
the number of champions that House has competing. As you know,
Amberclaw is far from the greatest of Houses. We are allowed just
the one champion in this qualifying tournament. But there are
others that are allowed more. Gildermane House will have brought
more than sixty champions. They will therefore have more than six
thousand guards. Armorhyde and Inkskin will have a hundred
competitors. And ten thousand guards each.”
The numbers the bunny-eared healer mentioned made me re-
evaluate my earlier impressions. This stadium was even bigger than
I had expected.
“Gildermane?” I said. “The same House that first made use of
mana in their martial endeavors?”
Marielle smiled, apparently pleased that I remembered the story.
“The very same. They were the greatest of Houses for a very long
time, but such things do not remain static. Over the centuries, their
power diminished.”
 The bunny-eared woman was standing close enough to me that
I gained a hint of her apple-cinnamon pie scent even within the
press of people all around us. Even though she had overtly
expressed a willingness to share me with others, her feminine
closeness seemed almost proprietary in nature.
Or perhaps it was just that she had to be close to ensure her
words could be heard over the general din.
“Their fortunes are on the rise again, and have been for some
years now. Look for them to be making serious moves during this
tournament.”
I nodded, and returned to watch the rest of the parade. The
Houses Marielle had named hadn’t yet made their appearance. The
greater Houses, she had explained, would be the very last to arrive.
Yet even the smaller and medium-sized Houses seemed keen on
putting on a show.
“Stormfeather House,” Marielle said, indicating the champion’s
entourage before us. “Allies of the Amberclaw. Like us, they have
been granted a single champion.”
My eyes were drawn to the champion in question, and I found
myself staring in wonder. This champion was female, tall and regal
as Lady Talia herself, but very different as well. Where Talia
exhibited the characteristics of a tiger, complete with claws, a tail,
and orange and black coloration, this woman, this Stormfeather
champion, had wings.
Nor was she the only one. Several of her companions did as
well, although in truth, that wasn’t the only thing that caught my
attention.
“Why so few guards?” I asked, fully aware that these
Stormfeathers had brought even fewer guards than we had.
Perhaps only sixty all told.
I felt Marielle nod beside me.
“They have fallen on difficult times,” the bunny-eared healer
responded. “Like us, they are seeking to grow their fortunes through
this tournament. But you are right. That they would present so few
guards is not a good sign. It must be a source of shame for them to
have to do so.”
 Mistress Sandria was standing behind me, over my other
shoulder. She had apparently been listening.
“It is a concern,” she said. “If Lady Talia was with us, she would
likely reach out to them, to see if there was any way we could
help.”
I had been in this new world for several months by then, but
was only just starting to get an indication of the of how the society
worked.
“How might she help? By letting these Stormfeather people
borrow some guards?”
“For a start, yes. If she could do so in a way that allowed the
Stormfeathers to accept without losing face.”
The Stormfeather entourage had passed us by, and another
House was beginning to fill the space before us. This House had
two champions, and I could already see that the number of guards
they had brought was about double our own number.
“Where is Lady Talia?” I asked almost at random.
It was Mistress Sandria who supplied an answer. “She is one of
those responsible for ensuring the smooth operation of this event.
No doubt, she is busy with those responsibilities.”
I nodded, and returned my attention to the parade.
All of a sudden, instead of a simple gathering of people,
champions walking with mostly stoic expressions with their trainers
and guards behind them, banners fluttering in the light breeze, it
seemed as if those champions had become giants, and were
floating in the air twenty feet off the ground.
I couldn’t help but gasp in surprise, and felt tens of thousands of
others gasp along with me. Then immediately, that collective gasp
was followed by a roar of approval.
It took me only a few moments to figure out what was
happening. Whatever House it was before us had among their
number someone who could cast illusions, as Mistress Aylin could
do.
It seemed a very effective way to show the champions in all
their powerful glory to even those who were watching all the way
from the back.
 And these two champions did indeed look powerful. A man and a
woman, they prowled with the feline grace of a big cat, not a tiger
like Talia Amberclaw, but something smaller, a cougar perhaps.
There was an arrogance to the pair of them that was clear to
one and all, and neither champion seemed to feel the need to
acknowledge the applause they were getting at all.
I turned about, looking for Aylin behind me, but she was too far
away for me to effectively talk to. So I addressed Marielle instead.
“Could Aylin have done that?” I asked.
The bunny-eared woman turned toward me and smiled. “What,
you like the idea of appearing thirty feet tall, so that everyone in
the stadium can applaud your greatness?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted.
The bunny-eared woman laughed. “Fair enough. And Aylin could
have matched that feat easily. But consider, we’ve spent
considerable time and effort doing our best to keep you hidden. Our
political rivals don’t know who you are, or what you can do. And
that’s how we would like to keep it, for as long as we can.”
I thought about her words. “And you think that having a thirty-
foot version of me floating above the parade would draw a little too
much attention?”
“That is correct,” she said.
It made good sense. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think
about the implications.
Why did it matter so much? This was just a qualifying
tournament. How important could it really be?
The parade continued. Marielle didn’t introduce all of the Houses
as they went past, but she did point out several of them. The
Woodgald House. Davenhall. Ironfang.
The longer we stood and watched, the bigger and more
impressive the House entourages grew, with many of the Houses
using the same illusion technique to project images of the best.
For the most part, those illusions were just replicas of what we
could see. Champions marching to the beat of the drums, ignoring
the crowd, reveling in the applause, showing disdain as their
natures’ dictated.
 But as the day progressed, as the more powerful Houses turned
up, the illusionary displays became more animated.
They started showing snippets of the champions in action.
Started showing the champions executing their favorite martial
technique.
I watched as illusory giants stepped through moves and
displayed mana skills that I’d seen, and many that I’d never
witnessed before.
I watched illusory giants command the elements to do their
bidding. Watched as they conjured energy from the air around them
to hurl at an unseen enemy. Watched as they shot lightning from
their fingertips, swelled to muscular giants, and conjured balls of
mana with which to hurl at their foes.
Each one seemed to be competing to outdo the last, and I was
left with my mouth hanging open.
As if sensing my astonishment, Marielle gently nudged me in the
ribs to gain my attention.
“It is meant to intimidate,” she said gently, yet still loudly
enough that I could hear the over the ambient noise.
“It’s working,” I quipped.
I knew even then that I had my work cut out for me. At the
same time, Marielle’s gentle reminder brought me back down to
earth.
These people weren’t the only ones with mana gifts that they
could bring to bear.
I had such gifts as well. And I wasn’t afraid to use them.
On and on the parade went, with the greatest of Houses finally
turning up. I thought that the most powerful Houses would have the
most magnificent displays, and for the most part, that proved to be
true.
But it was the Gildermane House that sent shudders through my
bones. Not the greatest of Houses. Perhaps fourth or fifth on the
list.
And while many of the illusionists had tried to show how strong
each of their champions were all at once, House Gildermane
focused all of their efforts on their best.
 I didn’t know who their champion was. But in the illusion, he was
tall. Powerful. With the full mane of a lion, the absolute head of his
pride.
The illusionist didn’t bother to try to show this champion’s power
to the world. Perhaps they wanted to keep something hidden.
But somehow, they managed to convey a sense of unfettered
power beyond that of all others.
It seemed that the champion was staring down at me from a
great height. His lip curled into a sneer, he was so far above me, he
was like a god compared to an ant.
All about him, I sensed swirls of power, as if his reservoirs of
mana were infinite, and his expertise in its use beyond that of all
others.
Where most such displays had elicited roars of approval and
cheers from those who watched, this one seemed to cow one and
all into silence.
It was, without doubt, the most impressive of the illusions we
had all witnessed.
When the Gildermane champion had passed, it was all I could do
to mutter to Marielle, “Who was that?”
“That is Kandal Gildermane. Of all the champions you will face,
likely he is the most dangerous. The Gildermanes have been
holding him back, some say for years, to present at just the right
moment. He is, if the word about him is true, formidable.”
CHAPTER 2

F inally, all the Houses were accounted for. All the champions, all
the support people, all of the tens of thousands of guards had
found their positions, gathered within the stadium, the illusory
champions no more than memories.
Mostly.
For some reason, the thirty-foot image of Kandal Gildermane still
remained.
The massive image seemed to be hovering in the middle of the
arena, not doing much, just standing with his arms folded across his
broad chest, staring down at one and all.
How long the illusion might have remained, searing itself
indelibly into the minds of the watchers, it was impossible to tell.
The audience, by and large, watched and wondered what might be
going to happen, until all at once, it seemed that several other of
the great Houses decided that they didn’t want the Gildermane to
enjoy the crowd’s attention all by himself.
Other champions appeared above the arena, appearing to
challenge the Gildermane illusion for supremacy. But it was as if
that great House had anticipated such a response. And perhaps
their illusionists were better than those of the other Houses.
The Gildermane champion turned into a lion for real, a massive
creature full of power and rage, and launched itself at the
competing illusions.
Somehow, the lion roared with a voice loud enough that many
held their hands to that ears as it bounded around the arena.
 And where the lion went, the other illusions winked out of
existence.
“Impressive,” Marielle said. “But it speaks more to the strength
of the illusion Master then of Kandal himself.”
I knew in my heart that the healer was right. Yet I couldn’t help
but watch the display in amazement.
Within just a few seconds, the Gildermane illusion was the only
one remaining in the arena, and the champion within resumed his
human form.
Then a much smaller illusion appeared. This one showed not a
champion, but a simple peasant. He stood perhaps fifteen feet tall,
a relative dwarf standing up to a giant.
The image of Kandal Gildermane didn’t deign to notice the
newcomer. But the whole of the audience did.
It seemed they were holding their breath, waiting to see what
would happen next.
“Unless I’m mistaken, the colors that peasant is wearing are
those of the Stormfeather House. It’s an interesting move. If the
image of Kandel turns to attack, he will be seen as no more than a
bully. Which gives this new illusion more freedom to act than those
who sought to challenge him directly.”
The healer seemed overtly fascinated by the display. As I was
myself. I’d never seen anything like the drama playing out before
me.
The illusory peasant was making faces at the giant, mocking
him, poking out his tongue and blowing audible raspberries even as
the giant stood there, ignoring the entire routine.
At first, only a few of the audience were laughing. But that
laughter seemed contagious. It spread like a ripple throughout the
whole crowd, until it seemed that everyone was laughing at the
display.
The cheeky peasant image wasn’t done. He looked around at
the crowd as if he was real, as if he was enjoying the limelight.
Finally, the giant Kandal had to react. He turned his attention to
the peasant, but still withheld any meaningful blow.
Instead, he sneered as he spoke a command.
 “Be gone,” he said.
But the peasant wasn’t cowed in the least. Playing to the
audience, he dropped his illusory trousers and waved his bare
buttocks that the Gildermane champion.
The audience roared with laughter.
I didn’t need Marielle’s scandalized exclamation to understand
that in this world, in this society, the peasant had delivered an
unforgivable insult.
The Gildermane House, instead of gaining in status for their
control of the arena, had suddenly found themselves in a position of
losing face.
The giant image of Kandel Gildermane’s face turned red with
rage. He roared at the peasant, and even as the image itself began
to fade into nothing, Kandal Gildermane launched an insubstantial
kick at the peasant’s bare ass.
I was laughing along with the rest of the crowd, and as both
images faded away, it wasn’t just me who broke out in spontaneous
applause.
Perhaps the Gildermane House had lost out in the interaction.
But the Stormfeather House had gained considerable face in the
process.
All in all, it was an entertaining display.
Nor was it over. As the laughter and applause died away, a
veritable army filed into the arena from four different directions at
once. Armored in much the same way that all the guards were
armored, fully encased in colorful steel and carrying glaives or
spears in their hands, dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of the
soldiers entered the main arena ring, forming concentric circles of
guards around a clear central area.
The crowd had grown quieter as the soldiers filed in, but were
still far from silent. There were murmurs of wonder from every
direction, all of which were punctuated by the steady, rhythmic beat
of a series of drums.
“The Emperor’s own guard,” Marielle said by way of explanation.
“It is said that the Third Imperial Son is to speak at this opening.”
 I didn’t know who the Third Imperial Son might have been, but
could see a display of power when presented with it. The line of
soldiers seemed never-ending, and if the greatest of Houses had
brought ten thousand men each, then the Emperor’s Third Son had
brought several times that number and more.
Thirty thousand, forty thousand, I wouldn’t have been surprised
if by the time they were done, there was more than fifty thousand
imperial soldiers all standing at the ready. But before the last of
them found their place, something miraculous began to happen.
Great pieces of masonry began to float from different parts of the
arena, to assemble themselves in the cleared space among the
soldiers.
“The Emperor has a number of high-level mana users on his
payroll. Some of them are able to control the elements, much as
our own Jaylin can do.”
I nodded, understanding, and watched as a large platform
constructed itself in the middle. As soon as it was complete, as soon
as the last of the soldiers found his place, Marielle nudged me in the
ribs with an elbow.
I turned, and saw what she had already spotted. As with any of
the large stadiums in my own world, there was what could only be
described as a corporate box. I hadn’t understood to begin with who
in this world would warrant such special treatment, but now I
understood.
The Emperor’s Third Son, together with half a dozen advisers,
bodyguards, or whatever they happened to be. But if I expected
them to make their way to the platform by any normal means, then
I was in for a surprise.
The Emperor’s Third Son, outfitted in a multi-colored robe that
seemed to reflect every one of the great Houses around the
stadium, together with his closest advisers, literally flew from the
corporate box to the platform. All at once, as soon as he touched
down, the Emperor’s Third Son seemed to grow to an enormous
stature.
It was like the illusions that had been cast before, but at the
same time, it was more subtle and profound.
 This wasn’t just an image of the Emperor’s Third Son floating
above the young man himself. The illusionists had put some thought
into the effect. It literally looked as if the brightly colored young
man quickly swelled until he stood perhaps forty feet tall.
I looked down at the image’s feet and saw no evidence of the
real person standing there. Perhaps the illusionists were casting an
illusion of an empty space at the same time. Or perhaps they had
literally found a way to make the Emperor’s Third Son grow to an
enormous size.
The entire audience reacted with the same wonder and
amazement that I felt. Marielle and even the more reserved Sandria
both seemed to appreciate the efforts. As for me, I was looking at
the Emperor’s Third Son, and wondering at how young he appeared.
“He’s little more than a child,” I said out loud.
“That he is. But he is a powerful child. At an event like this, his
words are as those of the Emperor himself.”
The image of the boy, third in line to the throne (or so I
assumed), looked over the crowd. He seemed at once both proud
and humble by the turnout, and for long seconds, he said nothing at
all.
His silence was contagious. Within a few moments the audience
as a whole became quiet. As if this was what he was waiting for,
the Emperor’s Third Son nodded once, and began to speak.
“My lords, my ladies,” he said, his voice surprising light and
pleasant to hear. “Champions one and all, it is pleasing to see so
many of the great Houses of Qiton put their champions forward to
compete, and equally pleasing to see so many of the past and
future great Houses do likewise. As you all know, the origins of this
tournament go back hundreds of years. It is and always has been
one of the most anticipated and hotly contested tournaments, and
great fame and fortune have been bestowed upon the winners from
time immemorial.”
The Third Son paused in his oration, and even though to my
mind he had said very little, it was apparently enough to warrant a
round of applause from those watching. I joined in with the others,
and the Third Son accepted it all as his due.
 When the applause began to die down, he continued. “It is also,
as I’m sure you know, one of the more dangerous tournaments to
be involved in.”
That cryptic statement generated a round of laughter, and I
wasn’t quite sure what was meant. But I didn’t have a chance to ask
Marielle before the Third Son continued.
“Because of that danger, and the fact that the great city of Qiton
can ill afford to lose its most talented sons and daughters at such a
young age, there has been a change to the rules for this year’s
tournament,” the Third Son continued.
At his pronouncement, the audience grew silent again. This was
something that they hadn’t expected.
“In all previous tournaments, bladed weapons have been
allowed. But this year, champions will be limited to the weapons
that they themselves possess. Claws and teeth are acceptable. As is
strength of arms, martial technique, and of course mana techniques
as well. The expectation is that this will result in less loss of life,
and career-ending injuries.”
I found myself wondering how a bladed weapon could be
considered less dangerous than conjuring a ball of energy hot
enough to burn your opponent to ash in an instant. Yet Marielle
seemed to have a different view. I sensed her nodding beside me.
“Good,” she said moment as if to herself. “Good. That will help
matters considerably.”
I couldn’t help but think back to the match I had won against
Jorn, where I had simply withstood more punishment than he was
willing to stand for.
I remembered Lady Talia using pretty much the exact same
words when defining the rules of that fight, and couldn’t help but
wonder if this was a change that the Amberclaw woman had known
about even then.
At the same time, I knew in my soul that if she hadn’t made that
decision, likely I would not have won.
Likely, I would have died if I’d tried to use the same strategy. I
could take a surprising amount of punishment in terms of bruises
and broken bones. But my training bouts against Master Amort had
taught me that a sharp blade to an artery, or to any major organ,
and the fight would be quickly over and done.
I found myself grinning. Even though I’d been well trained with a
number of weapons by then, this rule worked in my favor.
The crowd murmured to one another as they talked through the
ramifications, but the Third Son wasn’t done.
“I understand that those who have trained more with bladed
weapons might feel that this change favors their opponents. To
those who might be disappointed, let me remind you that in this
competition, there is only one winner. Which means that for all but
one of you, this rule works in your favor as well.”
The Third Son took another look around the audience, and
seemed satisfied with what he saw.
“Beyond that, the format and expectations of this tournament
remain as ever they were. It is my honor to open the festivities. To
the champions, I wish all of you well, and expect each House to
comport themselves to the highest standards of honor.”
The forty-foot vision of the Third Son narrowed its eyes. “Any
hint of foul play, any suspicion of bribery or cheating, will be dealt
with by the tournament adjudicators harshly. Your status is on the
line in this tournament, as is your honor. Act accordingly, and may
the strongest champions rise to the highest of levels!”
The Third Son fell silent, and the audience once again responded
with boisterous applause. When again they grew quiet, the Third
Son finished his speech.
“The first official bout will begin at the dawn bell on the morrow,
and matches will continue throughout the next many days until the
position of one and all becomes known. For the rest of the
afternoon today and into the evening, I hope you will enjoy the
demonstrations we have on display.”
More applause, and this time, the mighty form of the Third Son
faded back into his more human stature. Almost at once, to the
sound of drums beating once more, the Third Son and his advisers
departed the same way they had arrived, and the tens of thousands
of warriors exited the main arena.
 I was more than a little interested to find out what the
demonstrations might be, but the House Amberclaw guards and
Masters were already starting to move.
I turned to Marielle, and the healer explained.
“There are benefits in being part of a smaller House,” she said.
“We are not expected to maintain our presence throughout these
demonstrations. Which means we get to go to our rooms, to settle
ourselves in, and perhaps get some training in before the
tournament truly begins. Come on,” she added, tugging me along
behind the others, who had largely already vacated their positions.
I threw one more glance back toward the central arena, and
decided that Marielle was probably right. From everything that had
been said, I figured I would be fighting tomorrow. Perhaps a good
night’s rest was a better option.
CHAPTER 3

O ur palanquins and bearers were waiting for us outside the

stadium. The larger Houses might have been favored by being
housed around the rim of the stadium itself, but even with Lady
Talia organizing the tournament, the Amberclaw banner didn’t
warrant such prestige.
With the beetle-armored guards clearing the way, the Masters
and I were carried through the overcrowded streets to our lodgings
some distance away.
For me, it was a curious experience. The bearers were uniformly
a lot smaller than me. A lot smaller than Master Ruthnol as well. Yet
they didn’t offer a word of complaint as they jogged in unison,
bearing my weight and that of the palanquin as well.
I could have kept the curtains closed in an effort to keep out
some of Qiton’s oppressive heat and less palatable odors. Instead, I
kept them open a crack, so I could experience the sights and
sounds of the city.
It was a noisy, busy, desperate place with too many people.
Even with all of our guards doing their best to keep them away,
every so often a vendor of onions, of incense, of cooking utensils, of
everything and anything I could imagine managed to get through,
to jog next to my curtain and offer me their wares at full volume.
More than once, these offenders were roughly shoved to the side
by one or other of the guards, and I considered shutting the curtains
again, if only to discourage the vendors and prevent them from
being hurt.
 They didn’t know I was just a slave, given unexpected status as
the Amberclaw champion. They didn’t know I had no money at all,
and couldn’t have bought any of their wares if I’d wanted to.
All they saw was someone in a position of respect, guarded by a
hundred soldiers, and accompanied by a short string of others who
were also being carried as if they were nobles.
As the palanquin lurched slightly as one of the bearers missed a
step, I couldn’t help but be thankful for the chance I’d been given.
In this world, the glimpses I’d seen suggested that most suffered a
harsh existence. I still had a long way to go on my own journey, but
I already knew I was in a position of relative privilege.
Despite my status as an Amberclaw slave.
We passed through parts of the city where odors of hot, spicy
food wafted in through the window, and others that stank like a
sewer. More than once, fat bluebottle flies found their way into my
shaded sanctum, and I shooed them back out through the gap in
the curtain as quickly as I could.
Finally, the bearers brought me to a shaded area, and lowered
the palanquin to the ground.
A random servant, a small man with a very round face, opened
the curtain for me, and held out his hand to help me to stand.
“Master Logan, we have arrived at your lodgings.”
I stood and looked around, realizing that we were in the a fairly
substantial building that was raised up on stilts.
“I’m not a Master,” I murmured out of respect for those who truly
were. The servant simply nodded his head. “Of course, of course,”
he said, and gestured for me to follow.
Marielle, Sandria and the rest were already heading to the
stairway that led up to the lodging proper, and I followed dutifully
along.
The servant showed me to a richly appointed suite filled with
tapestries and gilded cushions, with thick rugs on the floor and
shuttered windows designed to keep out the heat while still
allowing the occupants to see out.
There were separate areas for bathing, and for just relaxing on
an ornate, silken lounge suite, and the bed in the main area was
more luxurious than anything I had seen in this world to date.
I stood there, admiring it all, as the servant made to leave. “If
there is anything you need,” the round-faced man said, “you can
summon me by tugging on the pull cord next to the door.”
I murmured an acknowledgement, and the man turned to go.
Not knowing what else to do, I tottered toward the bed, and
thought of all the nights I’d spent sleeping in the healing pool. I’d
also slept on the floor in the slave quarters next to the swamp, and
had spent just a couple of nights in a small, hard bed in the
Amberclaw training facilities.
Compared to all of that, this was luxury. The bed was far bigger
even than the one I’d had in my own world, and it looked to be soft
and comfortable as well.
I reached out and touched the thick, fluffy bedcoverings just to
see, and knew I was right.
Then I laughed out loud, turned around, and threw myself
backward onto the bed.
It was like landing in a pile of feathers, and I kept laughing even
as I sank more deeply into the bed’s comfortable embrace.
I thought back to the fight I’d had against Jorn, the beating I’d
endured from him, as well as the Masters before him.
“Worth it,” I murmured to myself. “Totally worth it.”

“S houldn’t you be training?”

I knew who it was before I looked up. The friendly warmth and
good humor in her voice told me everything I needed to know.
It was Marielle, come to collect me for training.
I pushed myself up, resting my weight on my elbows so I could
see her. Because she was beautiful. Smiling, voluptuous, the rabbit-
eared woman was the best thing to happen to me in forever, and I
would have been happy to spend the rest of the day just looking at
her.
At the same time, she was right.
 I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. “Some of those champions, the
things they could do,” I said. “I don’t really stand a chance, do I?”
Marielle didn’t skip a beat. “Not if you don’t keep up with your
training. There is a full training gym upstairs, and there’s an
abandoned bathhouse next door that will make for a decent healing
chamber as well. This isn’t the time to get lazy.”
The bunny-eared woman was only teasing. She knew as well as
I did that I would do whatever I needed to do to get ready.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to enjoy the odd creature
comfort.
“And here was me starting to think I might get to actually make
use of this amazing bed,” I said.
At this, Marielle’s expression grew speculative. “It does look
comfortable, doesn’t it?” she said.
I nodded, and looked at her, half expecting.
Her smile grew just a little bit broader. She reached up and
casually undid a clasped at the back of her neck. The bunny-eared
woman was wearing a colorful silk dress cinched in at the waist,
and that simple clasp was enough that the top half of the dress fell
away.
Marielle’s skin was perfect, free of any real blemishes, and even
though I’d seen her naked many times by then, I still found myself
drinking in her womanly perfection.
Marielle had the body of a goddess. Voluptuous, full of soft
curves and the promise of passion. She undid the sash at her waist,
and her dress fell to the floor, leaving her naked apart from a thin
silver necklace and a couple of bangles around her right wrist.
With her feet already bare – none of the Masters wore footwear
unless heading out — she stepped out of her dress and caught her
bottom lip in her teeth as she studied me with interest.
“It would be a shame to let such a magnificent bed go untested,”
she admitted. “Perhaps training can wait for a little while.”
With that, she climbed up onto the bed so that she straddled
me, one knee to each side, and pushed me back into the soft,
cushiony embrace.
 Without any hesitation, she leaned her weight against me,
pressing her breasts against my black and orange tunic even as she
leaned in for a kiss.
I found myself responding to her in the time-honored way,
kissing her back even as I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent.
Marielle broke away long enough to say something about getting
me out of my clothes, but I shook my head.
“Not yet,” I said. “I’ve got something else in mind first. Come
here,” I said.
With that, I grabbed her by her thick buttocks, and hoisted her
upward. At first, she didn’t seem to understand my intent, and sat
on my chest with a vaguely puzzled expression.
But I hoisted her up even further, and shimmied down just a
little. With both of my hands filled with soft yet firm female flesh,
with her knees on either side of my head, I leaned up, planted a
kiss on the lowest part of her belly, then gradually worked my way
down, kissing gently as I went, teasing her hair with my lips, flicking
her button with my tongue, catching her lips in my own, and
teasing, gently teasing for all I was worth.
Marielle responded with squeals of delight, and reflexively
clamped her thighs against my head tightly enough that I couldn’t
move. I didn’t mind, except that I was no longer positioned quite
how I wanted, so I squeezed her butt with my hands and jiggled her
around just a little.
Instead of sitting upright with me beneath her, Marielle
collapsed forward, her elbows on the bed above my head. At the
same time, she loosened her grip with her thighs just enough that I
could get to work.
I did so, teasing her lips with my tongue, flicking her button with
the end of it, occasionally sucking, then driving my tongue inside
her, just to break up the rhythm every now and again, teasing her
even then.
That she was enjoying herself was clear. Not only did the noises
she made give ample evidence to that, but she quickly became very
wet as well, her juices mingling with my saliva even as she started
to grind herself against my face.
 I let her, and dialed back on the teasing, getting to work in
earnest.
It wasn’t long before her squeals of delight became moans of
true passion, and she writhed against me in earnest.
For my part, I pressed her against me with considerable
strength, and it seemed that only a few minutes had passed before
Marielle gasped and shuddered. I kept at it, and her gasping grew
louder, her shuddering turning into a true earthquake.
I could feel the pulse of her muscles through my fingers, could
sense her growing even wetter, and thought that she might have
been biting the bed coverings in order to muffle her screams.
I wondered at the last, recalling quite clearly that she hadn’t
been so shy in the past. But perhaps she was simply responding to
a new environment.
At long last, Marielle let out a sigh, and climbed off me. She
turned herself around and kissed me hard on the mouth.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get those pants off you.”
I was only too happy to oblige. Still lying down, I shucked my
pants off and kicked them onto the floor. I would have taken off the
tunic as well, but Marielle gave me no option. She clambered back
on top of me, turned around 180° from before, and took me into her
mouth.
I was already as erect as I could possibly get, but the way
Marielle moved her tongue all around was almost too much. I knew
I had to do something to take my mind away from what she was
doing, so I rolled us both over so that I was on top.
Marielle let out a snort of laughter, and got back to what she
was doing, and I buried my face in her as well.
I brought the bunny-eared woman to climax once more while
doing my level best to hang on at the same time.
Once she had recovered a second time, she ordered me out of
my shirt.
I looked at her, lying comfortably on the oversized bed, a
beautiful goddess who knew a thing or two about pleasure. Yet in
this world, I had recently learned that monogamy was not
expected.
 Especially for those like me. Champions of their Houses.
Marielle had been actively puzzled that I hadn’t taken any of the
others to bed, and it was Sandria who had finally explained it.
As I held myself above the bunny-eared woman, lining myself up
for the main event, I couldn’t help but grin.
“Maybe we should invite Sandria to join us,” I said.
Marielle returned my grin with one of her own. She reached out
and played with my hair. “I would, but she has a few tasks that she
needs to get done. Another time, perhaps.”
Then her smile took on a teasing aspect. “If you’d already made
Sylvian one of your women, however, that could have been
different.”
Even as Marielle spoke, I slowly inched forward, parting her folds
with my erection, enjoying the expression of bliss that stole over
the healer’s face.
I still felt a little guilty about Sylvian. I hadn’t understood all the
rules of this world, and had inadvertently rejected her advances.
I’d hurt the elven woman, and had yet to make it up to her.
But it was definitely on my list of things to do.
I slid all the way into the bunny-eared woman, and slowly,
wanting to prolong the experience as long as I could, began to
move back and forth. For her part, Marielle had already had her fun.
She simply relaxed, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation even as she
wrapped her hands about my waist and held on.
For long minutes, we luxuriated in each other’s embrace,
luxuriated in the comfort of the oversized bed. I was just beginning
to increase my pace when Marielle’s eyes opened wide and she
turned her head to one of the windows.
“What’s that?” she demanded.
There was sufficient urgency in Marielle’s voice that I didn’t stop
to think. I launched myself off the bunny-eared woman and hurled
myself toward the window, heedless of the fact that I was stark
naked and fully erect.
I had seen what caught Marielle’s attention. A face, pressing
itself against the shutters on the window.
 As soon as the spy realized that he’d been seen, the face
disappeared. But that didn’t slow me down in the least.
“Did you get a good look?” I bellowed. “Like what you saw?”
I was angry that someone had the gall to watch what Marielle
and I were up to. At the same time, part of me wanted to laugh. A
peeping Tom!
Perhaps they were common in this world. Perhaps it was just par
for the course. But Marielle’s reaction had said otherwise.
By the time I reached the window, it was already too late. The
peeping Tom had put in some real effort to get to the window.
There was no such thing as fire escapes in this land, and the wall
was almost sheer.
A quick glance down told me that he’d maybe used the lower
building next door as a start, but it was still more effort than I
would have expected.
“That’s right! Run!” I called to the retreating back of the man as
he disappeared into the alley.
Part of me wanted to give chase, but really, it was already too
late. And the last thing I needed was to get lost in the middle of
Qiton city when I had a tournament to fight in.
I sensed Marielle approach and glanced around to see that she
had draped one of the bed coverings around her to preserve her
modesty.
I was still completely naked, but perhaps not quite as erect as
I’d been before.
“Are peeping Toms common around here?” I asked her, frowning
because of the effort the man must have gone to.
Marielle’s usual smile had lost much of her normal good cheer.
“They are,” she said. “But I’m thinking that this was something
else.”
“Something else?”
She reached up and touched my cheek. “You still have so very
much to learn,” she said. “Remember when I said we were keeping
you hidden on purpose? The other Houses have seen you now. The
opening ceremony saw to that. They now know that the Amberclaw
Another random document with
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 KNOT OR ASH-COLOURED SANDPIPER.

Tringa islandica, Linn.

PLATE CCCXV. Adult in Summer and Winter.

The Knot, good Reader, is a handsome and interesting species,

whether in its spring or in its winter plumage, and, provided it be
young and fat, is always welcome to the palate of the connoisseur in
dainties. As to its habits, however, during the breeding season, I am
sorry to inform you that I know nothing at all, for in Labrador, whither
I went to examine them, I did not find a single individual. I have been
informed that several students of nature have visited its breeding
places; but why they have given us no information on the subject,
seeing that not only you and I, but many persons besides, would be
glad to hear about it, is what we cannot account for.
I do not wish you to infer from these remarks, that the persons
alluded to are the only ones who have neglected to note down on the
spot observations which might be interesting and useful. I myself am
very conscious of my own remissness in this respect, and deeply
regret the many opportunities of studying nature which have been in
a manner lost to me, on account of a temporary supineness which
has seized upon me, at the very moment when the objects of my
pursuit were placed within my reach by that bountiful Being to whom
we owe all our earthly enjoyments, and all our hopes of that future
happiness which we strive to merit.
I have traced the Knot along the shores of our Atlantic states, from
Texas to the entrance of the Bay of Fundy, in the months of April and
May, and again in the autumnal months. I have also found it in winter
in East Florida, and therefore feel confident that some of the species
do not proceed beyond our southern limits at that season. Whilst on
the Bay of Galveston, in Texas, in April 1837, I daily observed groups
of Knots arriving there, and proceeding eastward, meandering along
the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. In the interior of the United States I
never observed one, and for this reason I am inclined to think that
the species moves northward along the coast. But as I did not find
any in Nova Scotia, Labrador, or Newfoundland, I consider it
probable that those which betake themselves to the fur countries,
turn off from our Atlantic shores when they have reached the
entrance of the Bay of Fundy. However this may be, it is certain that
they reach a very high latitude, and that some stop to breed about
Hudson’s Bay, where Dr Richardson found them in summer.
On some few occasions I have observed the Knot associating with
the Tell-tale Godwit and Semi-palmated Snipe, about a mile from the
sea, along the margins of ponds of brackish-water; but such
localities seemed in a manner unnatural to them, and it was seldom
that more than two or three were seen there. Along the shores, in
spring, I have not unfrequently thought that they seemed dull, as if
they had lost themselves, for they would allow a person to go very
near, and seldom took to wing unless induced to do so by
companions of other species, who were better aware of their
situation. In autumn, when they at times collect into very large flocks,
I have often followed them until I obtained as many as I wished.
Wilson has so beautifully described their movements at such times,
that, although I have often witnessed them myself, I prefer giving his
own words.
“In activity it is superior to the Turnstone; and traces the flowing and
recession of the waves along the sandy beach with great
nimbleness, wading and searching among the loosened particles for
its favourite food, which is a small thin oval bivalve shell-fish, of a
white or pearl-colour, and not larger than the seed of an apple.
These usually lie at a short distance below the surface; but in some
places are seen at low water in heaps, like masses of wet grain, in
quantities of more than a bushel together. During the latter part of
summer and autumn, these minute shell-fish constitute the food of
almost all those busy flocks that run with such activity along the
sands, among the flowing and retreating waves. They are universally
swallowed whole; but the action of the bird’s stomach, assisted by
the shells themselves, soon reduces them to a pulp. Digging for
these in the hard sand would be a work of considerable labour,
whereas, when the particles are loosened by the flowing of the sea,
the birds collect them with great ease and dexterity. It is amusing to
observe with what adroitness they follow and elude the tumbling surf,
while at the same time they seem wholly intent on collecting their
food.”
I have however seen the Knot probe the wet sands, on the borders
of oozy salt marshes, thrusting in its bill to the feathers on the
forehead, and this with the same dexterity as several other species.
Its flight is swift, at times rather elevated, and well sustained. At their
first arrival in autumn, when they are occasionally seen in great
numbers in the same flock, their aërial evolutions are very beautiful,
for, like our Parrakeet, Passenger Pigeon, Rice-bird, Red-winged
Starling, and other birds, they follow each other in their course, with
a celerity that seems almost incomprehensible, when the individuals
are so near each other that one might suppose it impossible for them
to turn and wheel without interfering with each other. At such times,
their lower and upper parts are alternately seen, the flock exhibiting
now a dusky appearance, and again gleaming like a meteor.
Many of these young birds continue mottled with dull reddish-orange
on their lower parts until the winter is far advanced. The old
individuals have their whole upper plumage of a uniform grey, and
their lower parts white. As those of the first year have their markings
at that season handsomer than at any other period of their lives, I
have given the figure of one in preference to that of an adult.
It has been supposed by some that two different species of Knot
occur in the United States, but I am of a different opinion. The
dimensions of birds of this family, as well as of many others, are
extremely variable; and, on shooting eight or ten Knots, it would be
difficult to find two of them having exactly the same size and
proportions. If I add to this the very remarkable changes of plumage
exhibited by birds of this family before and after maturity, you will not
think it strange that Wilson should have mistaken the young of the
Knot for a separate species from the old bird in its spring dress.
Indeed, I am obliged to tell you that I have been much puzzled,
when, on picking up several of these birds from the same flock, I
have found some having longer and thicker bills than others, with as
strange a difference in the size of their eyes. These differences I
have endeavoured to represent in my plate.
My friend John Bachman states, that this species is quite abundant
in South Carolina, in its autumn and spring migrations, but that he
has never seen it there in full plumage. In that country it is called the
“May Bird,” which, however, is a name also given to the Rice Bird.
Along the coasts of our Middle District, it is usually known by the
name of “Grey-back.”

Tringa islandica, Canutus, cinerea, grisea, &c. of Linnæus and Latham,

&c.
Tringa islandica, Ch. Bonaparte, Synopsis of Birds of United States, p. 350.
Red-breasted Sandpiper, Tringa rufa, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p. 43, pl.
57, fig. 5. Summer.
Ash-coloured Sandpiper, Tringa cinerea, Wils. Amer. Ornith. vol. vii. p.
36, pl. 57, fig. 2. Winter.
 Knot, or Ash-coloured Sandpiper, Nuttall, Manual, vol. ii. p. 125.
Tringa cinerea, Richards. and Swains. Fauna Bor.-Amer. vol. ii. p. 387.

Adult Male in Summer. Plate CCCXV. Fig. 1.

Bill rather longer than the head, slender, straight, compressed,
tapering, with the tip a little enlarged and blunt. Upper mandible with
the dorsal line straight, and slightly declinate, the ridge narrow and
flattened until towards the end, when it becomes considerably
broader, the sides sloping, the tip convex above and ending in a
blunt point, the edges thick and flattened. Nasal groove extending to
near the tip; nostrils basal, linear, pervious. Lower mandible with the
angle long and very narrow, the dorsal line straight, the sides sloping
outwards, with a long narrow groove, the tip a little broader, but
tapering.
Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Eyes of moderate size.
Neck of ordinary length. Body rather full. Feet rather long, slender;
tibia bare, a third part of its length; tarsus somewhat compressed,
anteriorly and posteriorly with numerous small scutella; hind toe very
small, the rest of moderate length, slender, the fourth slightly longer
than the second, the third longest; all free, broadly marginate,
flattened beneath, and with numerous scutella above. Claws small,
slightly arched, compressed, rather obtuse, that of the third toe much
larger, with the inner edge dilated.
Plumage very soft, blended on the head, neck, and lower parts, the
feathers rather distinct above. Wings very long and pointed;
primaries tapering, obtuse, the first longest, the second two-twelfths
of an inch shorter, the rest rapidly decreasing; outer secondaries
slightly incurved, inner elongated, straight and tapering, one of them
extending when the wing is closed, to an inch and a quarter from its
tip. Tail rather short, nearly even, of twelve rather broad feathers
which taper to a broad point.
Bill and feet black. Iris dark hazel. Upper part of the head and hind
neck light grey, tinged with buff, and longitudinally streaked with
dusky; fore part of back and scapulars, variegated with brownish-
black and yellowish, and each feather with several spots of the latter
and tipped with whitish; the hind part of the back, rump, and upper
tail-coverts, white, barred with black; wing-coverts ash-grey, edged
with paler. Alula and primary-coverts brownish-black, tipped with
white; primaries similar, their shafts and the outer margins of all
excepting the first three, white, the inner webs towards the base light
grey; secondaries and their coverts grey, margined with white. Tail-
feathers ash-grey tinged with brown, and narrowly edged with white.
The sides of the head, fore part of neck, breast, and abdomen, rich
brownish-orange; lower tail-coverts and feathers of the legs, white,
each of the former with a central dusky narrow-shaped or elongated
spot, axillaries white barred with dusky; lower wing-coverts dusky
with white margins.
Length to end of tail 10 1/4 inches, to end of wings 10 3/4, to end of
claws 11 1/2; extent of wings 21; wing from flexure 7; tail 2 9/12; bill
along the ridge 1 4 1/2/12, along the edge of lower mandible 1 4 1/2/12;
tarsus 1 1/4; hind toe and claw 4/12; middle toe and claw 1 1 1/2/12.
Weight 5 1/2 oz.
The female is similar to the male, but considerably larger.
Length to end of tail 10 3/4 inches. Weight 6 ounces.

In Winter. Plate CCCXV. Fig. 2.

Bill greenish-black, eye of a darker brown. Feet dull yellowish-green;
claws dusky. The upper parts are deep ash-grey, each feather
margined with whitish; feathers of the rump greyish-white, upper tail-
coverts white, barred with dusky. The quills and tail feathers as in
summer. A band from the bill over the eye to the hind part of head,
white; loral space, cheeks, and sides of neck pale grey, streaked
with darker; throat and lower parts in general, white; the sides, axillar
feathers, and under wing-coverts, barred or spotted with dusky;
lower tail-coverts as in summer.
The young in autumn are of a dull light brownish-grey colour above,
each feather having a narrow whitish margin, within which is a dusky
line. The fore part and sides of the neck, and the fore part of the
breast dull greyish-white, with small dusky-grey longitudinal streaks;
the band over the eye indistinct, the loral space darker. The bill and
feet are of a duller tint, and the eye darker, than in the adult in winter.
Weight 4 1/4 oz.

On the roof of the mouth is a double series of small blunt papillæ.

The tongue is very slender, 1 1/12 inch long, emarginate and papillate
at the base, channelled above, horny beneath, the point rather
acute. The œsophagus is 4 3/4 inches long, narrow, its diameter 3 1/2
twelfths. The proventriculus is oblong, 5 1/2 twelfths in diameter, 9
twelfths long. The stomach is an extremely powerful gizzard, of a
roundish form, 1 inch and 5 twelfths long, its greatest breadth 1 1/4
inch; the cuticular lining thin, horny, with large longitudinal rugæ. The
intestine 25 inches long, its average diameter 3 1/2 twelfths; cœca
cylindrical, 3 twelfths long. The contents of the stomach are
fragments of mussels and gravel, with which part of the intestine is
also filled.
The trachea is 3 1/4 inches long, flattened, 2 1/2 twelfths broad at the
top, diminishing to 2 twelfths; its rings very slender and unossified,
98 in number; the bronchial half-rings about 15. The lateral muscles
very thin, the sterno-tracheal slender.
 ANHINGA OR SNAKE-BIRD.

Plotus Anhinga, Linn.

PLATE CCCXVI. Male and Female.

Reader, the pleasures which I have experienced in the course of this

chequered life of mine have been many;—perhaps many more than
would have fallen to my share, had I not, fortunately for me, become
a devoted and enthusiastic lover of Nature’s beauteous and
wondrous works, which, in truth, I have been from the earliest period
to which my recollection extends; and those who have known me
best will not for a moment consider it extravagant in me to say, that
among the greatest pleasures I have known, has been that derived
from pursuing and faithfully describing such of our American birds as
were previously unknown or but little observed. Many sultry summer
days I have passed amidst the most dismal swamps of the secluded
woods of Louisiana, watching with anxiety and in silence the curious
habits of the Anhinga; the female bird now sitting closely on her
eggs, in a nest constructed by herself and securely placed on the
widely extended branch of the tallest cypress, that, as if by magic
planted, stood in the midst of an ample lake, while with keen eyes
she watched every motion of the wily Buzzard and cunning Crow,
lest either of these cowardly marauders might deprive her of her
treasures; the partner of her cares and joys meanwhile, with
outspread wings and fan-like tail, soaring on high, and glancing first
anxiously towards her he loves, then in anger towards one and all of
their numerous enemies. In wider and bolder circles he moves, rising
higher and still higher, until at length, becoming a mere dusky speck,
he almost vanishes from my sight amidst the expanse of the blue
sky; but now, suddenly closing his wings, and rushing downwards
like a meteor, I see him instantly alight erect upon the edge of the
nest, and complacently gaze upon his beloved.
After some time, about three weeks perhaps, I have found the
eggshells beneath the great cypress tree, cast out of the nest by the
intelligent and attentive mother, and floating on the green slime of
the stagnant pool. Climbing to the nest itself, I have seen the tender
young clad in down far softer than our sea-island cottons, writhing
their slender and tremulous necks, and with open mouths and
extended pouches seeking, as all infants are wont to seek, the food
suited to their delicate frame. Then, retiring to some concealed spot,
I have seen the mother arrive with a supply of finely masticated
nutriment, compounded of various fishes from the lake, and furnish
each of her progeny by regurgitation with its due proportion. Thus,
also, I have watched the growth of the younglings, marking their
daily progress, which varied according to the changes of
temperature and the state of the atmosphere. At length, after waiting
many days in succession, I have seen them stand, in an almost erect
posture, on a space scarcely large enough to contain them. The
parents seemed aware of the condition of their brood, and,
affectionate as they still appeared to be, I thought their manner
towards them was altered, and I felt grieved. Indeed, sorely grieved I
was when, next week, I saw them discharge, as it were, their
children, and force them from the nest into the waters that were
spread below. It is true that, previous to this, I had seen the young
Anhingas trying the power of their wings as they stood upright on the
nest, flapping them many minutes at a time; yet, although thus
convinced that they were nearly in a state to provide for themselves,
it was not without a feeling of despondency that I saw them hurled
into the air, and alight on the water. But, Reader, Nature in all this
had acted beneficially; and I afterwards found that in thus expelling
their young so soon, the old birds had in view to rear another brood
in the same spot, before the commencement of unfavourable
weather.
Many writers have described what they have been pleased to call
the habits of the Anhinga; nay, some have presumed to offer
comments upon them, and to generalize and form theories thereon,
or even to inform us gravely and oracularly what they ought to be,
when the basis of all their fancies was merely a dried skin and
feathers appended. Leaving these ornithologists for the present to
amuse themselves in their snug closets, I proceed to detail the real
habits of this curious bird, as I have observed and studied them in
Nature.
The Snake-Bird is a constant resident in the Floridas, and the lower
parts of Louisiana, Alabama, and Georgia. Few remain during winter
in South Carolina, or in any district to the eastward of that State; but
some proceed as far as North Carolina in spring, and breed along
the coast, I have found it in Texas in the month of May, on the waters
of Buffalo Bayou, and the St Jacinto River, where it breeds, and
where, as I was told, it spends the winter. It rarely ascends the
Mississippi beyond the neighbourhood of Natchez, from which most
of the individuals return to the mouths of that great stream, and the
numerous lakes, ponds, and bayous in its vicinity, where I have
observed the species at all seasons, as well as in the Floridas.
Being a bird which, by its habits, rarely fails to attract the notice of
the most indifferent observer, it has received various names. The
Creoles of Louisiana, about New Orleans, and as far up the
Mississippi as Pointe Coup, call it “Bec à Lancette,” on account of
the form of its bill; whilst at the mouths of the river it bears the name
of “Water Crow.” In the southern parts of Florida, it is called the
“Grecian Lady,” and in South Carolina it is best known by the name
of “Cormorant.” Yet in all these parts, it bears also the name of
“Snake-Bird;” but it is nowhere with us called the “Black-bellied
Darter,” which, by the way, could only be with strict propriety applied
to the adult male.
Those which, on the one hand, ascend the Mississippi, and, on the
other, visit the Carolinas, arrive at their several places of resort early
in April, in some seasons even in March, and there remain until the
beginning of November. Although this bird is occasionally seen in the
immediate vicinity of the sea, and at times breeds not far from it, I
never met with an individual fishing in salt water. It gives a decided
preference to rivers, lakes, bayous, or lagoons in the interior, always
however in the lowest and most level parts of the country. The more
retired and secluded the spot, the more willingly does the Snake-Bird
remain about it. Sometimes indeed I have suddenly come on some
in such small ponds, which I discovered by mere accident, and in
parts of woods so very secluded, that I was taken by surprise on
seeing them. The Floridas therefore are peculiarly adapted for this
species, as there the torpid waters of the streams, bayous, and
lakes, are most abundantly supplied with various species of fish,
reptiles, and insects, while the temperature is at all seasons
congenial, and their exemption from annoyance almost unparalleled.
Wherever similar situations occur in other parts of the Southern
States, there the Anhingas are met with in numbers proportioned to
the extent of the favourable localities. It is very seldom indeed that
any are seen on rapid streams, and more especially on clear water,
a single instance of such an occurrence being all that I have
observed. Wherever you may chance to find this bird, you will
perceive that it has not left itself without the means of escape; you
will never find one in a pond or bayou completely enclosed by tall
trees, so as to obstruct its passage; but will observe that it generally
prefers ponds or lakes, surrounded by deep and almost
impenetrable morasses, and having a few large trees growing out of
the water near their centre, from the branches of which they can
easily mark the approach of an enemy, and make their escape in
good time. Unlike the Fish-hawk and Kings-fisher, the Anhinga
however never plunges or dives from an eminence in procuring its
prey, although from its habit of occasionally dropping in silence to the
water from its perch, for the purpose of afterwards swimming about
and diving in the manner of the Cormorant, some writers have been
led to believe that it does so.
The Black-bellied Darter, all whose names I shall use, for the
purpose of avoiding irksome repetitions, may be considered as
indefinitely gregarious; by which I mean that you may see eight or
more together at times, during winter especially, or only two, as in
the breeding season. On a few occasions, whilst in the interior of the
southernmost parts of Florida, I saw about thirty individuals on the
same lake. While exploring the St John’s River of that country in its
whole length, I sometimes saw several hundreds together. I procured
a great number on that stream, on the lakes in its neighbourhood,
and also on those near the plantation of Mr Bulow, on the eastern
side of the Peninsula. I observed that the young Darters, as well as
those of the Cormorants, Herons, and many other birds, kept apart
from the old individuals, which they however joined in spring, when
they had attained their full beauty of plumage.
The Anhinga is altogether a diurnal bird, and, like the Cormorant, is
fond of returning to the same roosting place every evening about
dusk, unless prevented by molestation. At times I have seen from
three to seven alight on the dead top branches of a tall tree, for the
purpose of there spending the night; and this they repeated for
several weeks, until on my having killed some of them and wounded
others, the rest abandoned the spot, and after several furious
contests with a party that roosted about two miles off, succeeding in
establishing themselves among them. At such times they seldom sit
very near each other, as Cormorants do, but keep at a distance of a
few feet or yards, according to the nature of the branches. Whilst
asleep, they stand with the body almost erect, but never bend the
tarsus so as to apply it in its whole length, as the Cormorant does;
they keep their head snugly covered among their scapulars, and at
times emit a wheezing sound, which I supposed to be produced by
their breathing. In rainy weather they often remain roosted the
greater part of the day, and on such occasions they stand erect, with
their neck and head stretched upwards, remaining perfectly
motionless, as if to allow the water to glide off their plumage. Now
and then, however, they suddenly ruffle their feathers, violently
shake themselves, and again compressing their form, resume their
singular position.
Their disposition to return to the same roosting places is so decided
that, when chased from their places of resort, they seldom fail to
betake themselves to them during the day; and in this manner they
may easily be procured with some care. Whilst at Mr Bulow’s, I was
almost daily in the habit of visiting a long, tortuous, bayou, many
miles in extent, which at that season (winter) was abundantly
supplied with Anhingas. There the Otter, the Alligator, and many
species of birds, found an ample supply of food; and as I was
constantly watching them, I soon discovered a roosting place of the
Snake-Birds, which was a large dead tree. I found it impossible to
get near them either by cautiously advancing in the boat, or by
creeping among the briars, canes, and tangled palmettoes which
profusely covered the banks. I therefore paddled directly to the
place, accompanied by my faithful and sagacious Newfoundland
dog. At my approach the birds flew off towards the upper parts of the
stream, and as I knew that they might remain for hours, I had a boat
sent after them with orders to the Negroes to start all that they could
see. Dragging up my little bark, I then hid myself among the tangled
plants, and, with my eyes bent on the dead tree, and my gun in
readiness, I remained until I saw the beautiful bird alight and gaze
around to see if all was right. Alas! it was not aware of its danger,
but, after a few moments, during which I noted its curious motions, it
fell dead into the water, while the reverberations consequent on the
discharge of my gun alarmed the birds around, and by looking either
up or down the bayou I could see many Anhingas speeding away to
other parts. My dog, as obedient as the most submissive of servants,
never stirred until ordered, when he would walk cautiously into the
water, swim up to the dead bird, and having brought it to me, lie
down gently in his place. In this manner, in the course of one day I
procured fourteen of these birds, and wounded several others. I may
here at once tell you that all the roosting places of the Anhinga which
I have seen were over the water, either on the shore or in the midst
of some stagnant pool; and this situation they seem to select
because there they can enjoy the first gladdening rays of the
morning sun, or bask in the blaze of its noontide splendour, and also
observe with greater ease the approach of their enemies, as they
betake themselves to it after feeding, and remain there until hunger
urges them to fly off. There, trusting to the extraordinary keenness of
their beautiful bright eyes in spying the marauding sons of the forest,
or the not less dangerous enthusiast, who, probably like yourself,
would venture through mud and slime up to his very neck, to get
within rifle shot of a bird so remarkable in form and manners, the
Anhingas, or “Grecian Ladies,” stand erect, with their wings and tail
fully or partially spread out in the sunshine, whilst their long slender
necks and heads are thrown as it were in every direction by the most
curious and sudden jerks and bendings. Their bills are open, and
you see that the intense heat of the atmosphere induces them to
suffer their gular pouch to hang loosely. What delightful sights and
scenes these have been to me, good Reader! With what anxiety
have I waded toward these birds, to watch their movements, while at
the same time I cooled my over-heated body, and left behind on the
shores myriads of hungry sand-flies, gnats, mosquitoes, and ticks,
that had annoyed me for hours! And oh! how great has been my
pleasure when, after several failures, I have at last picked up the
spotted bird, examined it with care, and then returned to the gloomy
shore, to note my observations! Great too is my pleasure in now
relating to you the results of my long personal experience, together
with that of my excellent friend Dr Bachman, who has transmitted his
observations on this bird to me.
Wilson, I am inclined to think, never saw a live Anhinga; and the
notes, furnished by Mr Abbot of Georgia, which he has published,
are very far from being correct. In the supplementary volumes of
American Ornithology published in Philadelphia, the Editor, who
visited the Floridas; added nothing of importance beyond giving
more accurate measurements of a single specimen than Wilson
had given from the stuffed skins from which he made his figures, and
which were in the museum of that city.
The peculiar form, long wings, and large fan-like tail of the Anhinga,
would at once induce a person looking upon it to conclude that it was
intended by nature rather for protracted and powerful flight, than for
spending as it does more than half of its time by day in the water,
where its progress, one might suppose, would be greatly impeded by
the amplitude of these parts. Yet how different from such a
supposition is the fact? The Anhinga in truth is the very first of all
fresh-water divers. With the quickness of thought it disappears
beneath the surface, and that so as scarcely to leave a ripple on the
spot; and when your anxious eyes seek around for the bird, you are
astonished to find it many hundred yards distant, the head perhaps
merely above water for a moment; or you may chance to perceive
the bill alone gently cutting the water, and producing a line of wake
not observable beyond the distance of thirty yards from where you
are standing. With habits like these it easily eludes all your efforts to
procure it. When shot at while perched, however severely wounded
they may be, they fall at once perpendicularly, the bill downward, the
wings and tail closed, and then dive and make their way under water
to such a distance that they are rarely obtained. Should you,
however, see them again, and set out in pursuit, they dive along the
shores, attach themselves to roots of trees or plants by the feet, and
so remain until life is extinct. When shot dead on the trees, they
sometimes cling so firmly to the branches that you must wait some
minutes before they fall.
The generally received opinion or belief that the Anhinga always
swims with its body sunk beneath the surface is quite incorrect; for it
does so only when in sight of an enemy, and when under no
apprehension of danger it is as buoyant as any other diving bird,
such as a Cormorant, a Merganser, a Grebe, or a Diver. This
erroneous opinion has, however, been adopted simply because few
persons have watched the bird with sufficient care. When it first
observes an enemy, it immediately sinks its body deeper, in the
manner of the birds just mentioned, and the nearer the danger
approaches, the more does it sink, until at last it swims off with the
head and neck only above the surface, when these parts, from their
form and peculiar sinuous motion, somewhat resemble the head and
part of the body of a snake. It is in fact from this circumstance that
the Anhinga has received the name of Snake-Bird. At such a time, it
is seen constantly turning its head from side to side, often opening
its bill as if for the purpose of inhaling a larger quantity of air, to
enable it the better to dive, and remain under water so long that
when it next makes its appearance it is out of your reach. When
fishing in a state of security it dives precisely like a Cormorant,
returns to the surface as soon as it has procured a fish or other
article of food, shakes it, if it is not too large often throws it up into
the air, and receiving it conveniently in the bill, swallows it at once,
and recommences its search. But I doubt much if it ever seizes on
any thing that it cannot thus swallow whole. They have the curious
habit of diving under any floating substances, such as parcels of
dead weeds or leaves of trees which have accidentally been
accumulated by the winds or currents, or even the green slimy
substances produced by putrefaction. This habit is continued by the
species when in a perfect state of domestication, for I have seen one
kept by my friend John Bachman thus diving when within a few feet
of a quantity of floating rice-chaff, in one of the tide-ponds in the
neighbourhood of Charleston. Like the Common Goose, it invariably
depresses its head while swimming under a low bridge, or a branch
or trunk of a tree hanging over the water. When it swims beneath the
surface of the water, it spreads its wings partially, but does not
employ them as a means of propulsion, and keeps its tail always
considerably expanded, using the feet as paddles either
simultaneously, or alternately.
The quantity of fish consumed by this bird is astonishing; and what I
am about to relate on this subject will appear equally so. One
morning Dr Bachman and I gave to an Anhinga a Black Fish,
measuring nine and a half inches, by two inches in diameter; and
although the head of the fish was considerably larger than its body,
and its strong and spinous fins appeared formidable, the bird, which
was then about seven months old, swallowed it entire, head
foremost. It was in appearance digested in an hour and a half, when
the bird swallowed three others of somewhat smaller size. At another
time, we placed before it a number of fishes about seven and a half
inches long, of which it swallowed nine in succession. It would
devour at a meal forty or more fishes about three inches and a half
long. On several occasions it was fed on Plaice, when it swallowed
some that were four inches broad, extending its throat, and
compressing them during their descent into the stomach. It did not
appear to relish eels, as it eat all the other sorts first, and kept them
to the last; and after having swallowed them, it had great difficulty in
keeping them down, but, although for a while thwarted, it would
renew its efforts, and at length master them. When taken to the tide-
pond at the foot of my friend’s garden, it would now and then after
diving return to the surface of the water with a cray-fish in its mouth,
which it pressed hard and dashed about in its bill, evidently for the
purpose of maiming it, before it would attempt to swallow it, and it
never caught a fish without bringing it up to subject it to the same
operation.
While residing near Bayou Sara, in the State of Mississippi, I was in
the habit of occasionally visiting some acquaintances residing at
Pointe Coup, nearly opposite the mouth of the bayou. One day, on
entering the house of an humble settler close on the western bank of
the Mississippi, I observed two young Anhingas that had been taken
out of a nest containing four, which had been built on a high cypress
in a lake on the eastern side of the river. They were perfectly tame
and gentle, and much attached to their foster-parents, the man and
woman of the house, whom they followed wherever they went. They
fed with equal willingness on shrimps and fish, and when neither
could be had, contented themselves with boiled Indian corn, of which
they caught with great ease the grains as they were thrown one by
one to them. I was afterwards informed, that when a year old, they
were allowed to go to the river and fish for themselves, or to the
ponds on either side, and that they regularly returned towards night
for the purpose of roosting on the top of the house. Both birds were
males, and in time they fought hard battles, but at last each met with
a female, which it enticed to the roost on the house-top, where all the
four slept at night for a while. Soon after, the females having
probably laid their eggs in the woods, they all disappeared, and were
never again seen by the persons who related this curious affair.
The Anhinga is shy and wary when residing in a densely peopled
part of the country, which, however, is rarely the case, as I have
already mentioned; but when in its favourite secluded and peaceful
haunts, where it has seldom or never been molested, it is easily
approached and without difficulty procured; nay, sometimes one will
remain standing in the same spot and in the same posture, until you
have fired several bullets from your rifle at it. Its mode of fishing is
not to plunge from a tree or stump in pursuit of its prey, but to dive
while swimming in the manner of Cormorants and many other birds.
Indeed, it could very seldom see a fish from above the surface of the
turbid waters which it prefers.
It moves along the branches of trees rather awkwardly; but still it
walks there, with the aid of its wings, which it extends for that
purpose, and not unfrequently also using its bill in the manner of a
Parrot. On the land, it walks and even runs with considerable ease,
certainly with more expertness than the Cormorant, though much in
the same style. But it does not employ its tail to aid it, for, on the
contrary, it carries that organ inclined upwards, and during its
progress from one place to another, the movements of its head and
neck are continued. These movements, which, as I have said,
resemble sudden jerkings of the parts to their full extent, become
extremely graceful during the love season, when they are reduced to
gentle curvatures. I must not forget to say, that during all these
movements, the gular pouch is distended, and the bird emits rough
guttural sounds. If they are courting on wing, however, in the manner
of Cormorants, Hawks, and many other birds, they emit a whistling
note, somewhat resembling that of some of our rapacious birds, and
which may be expressed by the syllables eek, eek, eek, the first
loudest, and the rest diminishing in strength. When they are on the
water, their call-notes so much resemble the rough grunting cries the
Florida Cormorant, that I have often mistaken them for the latter.
The flight of the Anhinga is swift, and at times well sustained; but like
the Cormorants, it has the habit of spreading its wings and tail before
it leaves its perch or the surface of the water, thus frequently
affording the sportsman a good opportunity of shooting it. When
once on wing, they can rise to a vast height, in beautiful gyrations,
varied during the love-season by zigzag lines chiefly performed by
the male, as he plays around his beloved. At times they quite
disappear from the gaze, lost as it were, in the upper regions of the
air; and at other times, when much lower, seem to remain
suspended in the same spot for several seconds. All this while, and
indeed as long as they are flying, their wings are directly extended,
their neck stretched to its full length, their tail more or less spread
according to the movements to be performed, being closed when
they descend, expanded and declined to either side when they
mount. During their migratory expeditions, they beat their wings at
times in the manner of the Cormorant, and at other times sail like the
Turkey Buzzard and some Hawks, the former mode being more
frequently observed when they are passing over an extent of
woodland, the latter when over a sheet of water. If disturbed or
alarmed, they fly with continuous beats of the wings, and proceed
with great velocity. As they find difficulty in leaving their perch without
previously expanding their wings, they are also, when about to alight,
obliged to use them in supporting their body, until their feet have
taken a sufficient hold of the branch on which they desire to settle. In
this respect, they exactly resemble the Florida Cormorant.
There are facts connected with the habits of birds which might afford
a pretty good idea of the relative temperatures of different parts of
the country during a given season; and those observed with regard
to the Anhinga seem to me peculiarly illustrative of this
circumstance. I have found the “Grecian Lady” breeding on St John’s
River in East Florida, near Lake George, as early as the 23d of
February; having previously seen many of them caressing each
other on the waters, and again carrying sticks, fresh twigs, and other
matters, to form their nests, and having also shot females with the
eggs largely developed. Now, at the same period, perhaps not a
single Anhinga is to be seen in the neighbourhood of Natchez, only a
few about New Orleans, in the eastern parts of Georgia, and the
middle maritime portions of South Carolina. In Louisiana this bird
breeds in April or May, and in South Carolina rarely before June, my