Recollections of "Old Timers" 131 



early boyhood, when millions of pigeons visited this 

 locahty on their spring and fall migrations, and during 

 their spring migrations comparatively few halted with 

 us to feed, but the great majority of them winged their 

 way in a high-flying flock of unbroken columns, some- 

 times half a mile in length, to the north and west, prob- 

 ably to their breeding grounds; but on their return, 

 from the first to the fifteenth of September, they would 

 swarm down on our newly sowed wheat fields until acres 

 of ground would be blue, and when they arose they 

 would darken the air and their wings would sound like 

 distant thunder. They were not so shy at this time of 

 the year, as part of them were young birds, which were 

 easily distinguished from the old ones by their speckled 

 breasts; and I would here state that, during both spring 

 and fall migrations, their greatest flight seemed to be 

 from sunrise until about nine or ten o'clock A.M. 



My father was an old pigeon catcher, and it was dur- 

 ing these fall migrations that he would go out in the 

 middle of a wheat field, build his bough house, set his 

 net, and prepare for the finest sport in which it was ever 

 my good fortune to participate; and many a time have 

 I been with him when he has caught hundreds of them 

 in a single morning. You may ask. What did you do 

 with so many pigeons? Well, I will tell you. We 

 skinned out the breasts, pickled them for two or three 

 days in weak brine, and then strung them on strings, 

 from one hundred and fifty to two hundred on a string, 



