THE PASSENGER PIGEON IN PENNSYLVANIA 51 



every spring, as they unfolded their two fat leaves, up- 

 on slender stems that were anchored in the rich leaf- 

 mold soil of such a forest, in primeval conditions. We 

 may fairly assume that from four to six young birds 

 reached maturity from each pair of the parent birds, 

 to return to the southland, each autumn, ahead of the 

 snow and frozen ground of winter that made their food 

 impossible to find. Before the nuts fell to the ground, 

 through action of frost and wind, the birds would beat 

 all the nuts from a tree, with their wings, in a few 

 minutes, while all was a scramble, both above and be- 

 low, for the same, making the forest roar with the 

 sound of their thunder. Their increase, no doubt, was 

 approximately in ratio of food available, each year, in 

 their pilgrimage through our northern region — the 

 homes of their Indian devotees. 



From the criterion of greatest utility the whiteman, 

 certainly — the later inhabitant, with domesticated poul- 

 try — exceeds his predecessor, by many multiples, in 

 efficiency and progress ; but the Indian, the Pigeon, and 

 the Forest were balanced in equal and horizontal scale, 

 upon their tranquil existence in their worlds, where 

 each individual met his foes in personal combat, for 

 place, for food, for existence, and for freedom to dom- 

 inate a restricted circle, wherein each maintained a 

 place by constant vigilance and preparation to resist the 

 natural enemies of his species. The white men came, 

 and the rich soil under the beech forests became fields 

 for their enjoyment and profit. The pigeons declined 

 in ratio with the receding forest — and food supply. 



