HOIMSKJ 



PASSENGER PIGEON INVESTIGATION 249 



and 2nd Ave., N. Y. City. "Many nests in plain sight in the cor- 

 nices of the buildings. They must be the birds you want. I am 

 sure they are wild pigeons and that nobody feeds them around 

 here." Another letter asks how much I would pay for a rabbit 

 with a long tail. 



One evening a frantic report came in by telephone from 

 Waltham, Mass. The man agreed to pay $5 and all expenses 

 if the birds did not prove to be passenger pigeons. I immediately 

 telephoned Dr. Field of the Massachusetts Commission of Fisher- 

 ies and Game and he dropped all his other work to go over to 

 Waltham and look up the matter personally. The man took him 

 into some woods, but was unable to show him either birds or 

 nests of any kind. 



One morning's mail brought me a letter from central New 

 York containing a postal money order for $5. One nest was 

 described as in a maple about 10 feet from the ground, and there 

 was another nest in a large willow at least 25 feet up. The letter- 

 said that the squabs were ready to fly and that I must come quick, 

 if I wished to find them in the nest. I pictured the edge of a 

 woods with maple trees and a brook (willows). Telegraphing 

 my informant to meet the 7 140 train the next morning, I rode 

 all night, without sleeper, on account of numerous changes, and 

 stepped into his buggy as the train pulled into Cazenovia, N. Y. 

 We drove two miles, found the nest — empty — in the maple tree — 

 one of a row planted along the public highway, about 10 feet high, 

 as stated ; also the nest in the willow — a lone line tree between 

 pasture fields, not more than about 12 feet from the ground. The 

 man wrote me that he had not heard the birds "coo", "like mourn- 

 ing doves". We found the squabs in the pasture near the nest, 

 heard the old birds "coo", caught the first train for Worcester, 

 and I was home that evening. They were mourning doves, of 

 course. The man had written that there were two squabs in the 

 nest, and I was strongly tempted to quote Professor Whitman 

 to him to the effect that the passenger pigeon never lays but one 

 egg to a clutch, and return his $5. He would have been $5 in 

 pocket, I would have saved myself twice that amount and a hard 

 journey, but possibly neither of us would have been quite as well 

 satisfied. 



Only yesterday I looked up another case that looked most 

 encouraging near Albany, N. Y. My informant was a sports- 

 man physician of prominence. He was sure he knew a passenger 

 pigeon when he saw one. Had hunted them witli his father years- 



