Long-billed Curlew (Numenius Longirostris), Volume 3, Plate 231

Painted in October 1831, after Audubon and his assistant Lehman’s arrival in Charleston.

One of Audubon’s most beautiful plates. The gently curved bills of the birds and the swaying reeds in the right half of the composition mirror each other, establishing a dense contrast with the cleaner left half of the picture, where the civilized world beckons from a distance. The view of Charleston was executed by George Lehman. Audubon’s essay recounts a visit to the bird banks south of Charleston, where he prepared fish, steaks, and oysters for his party, using gunpowder as salt. In the accompanying essay, the inevitable noise made by Audubon’s party contrasts oddly with the dignified silence of the curlews.

From John James Audubon’s Ornithological Biography

Accompanied by several friends, I left Charleston one beautiful morning, the 10th of November 1831, with a view to visit Cole’s Island, about twenty miles distant. … The sun at length sunk beneath the water-line that here formed the horizon; and we saw the birds making their first appearance. They were in small parties of two, three, or five, and by no means shy. These seemed to be the birds which we had observed near the salt-marshes, as we were on our way. As the twilight became darker the number of Curlews increased, and the flocks approached in quicker succession, until they appeared to form a continuous procession, moving not in lines, one after another, but in an extended mass, and with considerable regularity, at a height of not more than thirty yards, the individuals being a few feet apart. Not a single note or cry was heard as they advanced. They moved for ten or more yards with regular flappings, and then sailed for a few seconds, as is invariably the mode of flight of this species, their long bills and legs stretched out to their full extent. They flew directly towards their place of rest, called the “Bird Banks,” and were seen to alight without performing any of the evolutions which they exhibit when at their feeding-places, for they had not been disturbed that season. But when we followed them to the Bird Banks, which are sandy islands of small extent, the moment they saw us land the congregated flocks, probably amounting to several thousand individuals all standing close together, rose at once, performed a few evolutions in perfect silence, and re-alighted as if with one accord on the extreme margins of the sand-bank close to tremendous breakers. It was now dark, and we left the place, although some flocks were still arriving.