JO CONNECTICUT GEOL. AND NAT. HIST. SURVEY. [Bull. 



September and early October. To the top of the highest trees 

 on the summit of the low hills east of New Haven long poles 

 were fastened at an angle of about thirty degrees from a per- 

 pendicular, and near the bases of these trees huts of leafy 

 branches were built in such a position that the hunter hiding 

 within could rake the pole with a discharge of his gun. The 

 migrating pigeons would alight on these poles, and great num- 

 bers were often killed in the early morning hours. Such pigeon- 

 ambushes L. B. B. well remembers seeing often in the seventies. 

 The pigeons were probably migrating along the coast, and L. 

 B. B. has been told that after stopping for a few minutes on 

 these hills they would fly to the salt-marshes of the Quinnipiac. 

 Regarding one of the last, if not the last, flight of any size 

 recorded from Connecticut, Mr. Hill writes us. " On the after- 

 noon of September 10, 1876, the writer and William Colfax went 

 to Groton, across the river from New London, to shoot plover 

 or shore birds that usually come along about this time during 

 the fall migration. The wind had been blowing heavily from the 

 northwest for some days. Nearing our destination, we observed 

 flocks of birds circling and hovering over the woods near by. 

 Investigation and a shot brought to hand birds we thought and 

 proved to be wild pigeons. We bagged about three dozen, and 

 when we turned homeward we could see flock after flock come 

 along and alight in the woods for food and rest. None flew over 

 the river, for it was near sunset. That evening I made arrange- 

 ments with Hiram Chappell (still living) to try the pigeons 

 again, and we were on the grounds by daylight next morning, 

 the nth, and soon the pigeons commenced to fly about, and I 

 shot ninety-six and my friend as many more. It seemed to us 

 that the whole town, as well as the inhabitants of Groton, were 

 out gunning for pigeons. Old flint-locks, queen's arms, and boys 

 with gun locks tied on with string — any kind of firearm that 

 could kill a pigeon was called into service. The height of the 

 flight was on this day. The large flocks were the most wary, 

 flying high in air, and were made up of many small flocks that 

 had evidently been detached and scattered in quest of food, and 

 when on their way to catch up with the main flight their speed 

 was marvelous. The Thames river, at its mouth, the point 

 where the pigeons finally crossed as they flew to the westward, 



