102 THE PASSENGER PIGEON IN PENNSYLVANIA 



As the net came down the momentum of their flight 

 piled them up several courses deep. In a moment a 

 pigeon's head protruded from every mesh in the net. 

 So great was the number of the birds, struggling de- 

 sperately to free themselves, that I was called upon to 

 throw myself upon the net and help hold it down else 

 the pigeons would escape. With our weight and using 

 both hands and feet to the utmost of our strength, for 

 a time it seemed as though the net would be raised in 

 spite of our efforts. What else to do was difficult to 

 determine. We could not let go of the net to kill the 

 birds with our hands — what, then, was to be done? 

 The old pigeon catcher who had sprung the net de- 

 cided quick!}', by setting an example and yelling to me; 



''Bite their heads! Bite their heads! Do you hear?" 

 "Not for all the pigeons in the world," I repHed. 

 "Pshaw! Don't be squeamish! See how its done!" he 

 called out impatiently, and went on crushing the skulls 

 of the heads protruding through the meshes of the net, 

 until the (hfficulty of holding it down had passed and 

 a less revolting, if not more merciful, method of kill- 

 ing the remainder of the birds could be devised. 



I could kill pigeons with a gun without any com- 

 punction. But crushing the skulls of live birds be- 

 tween my teeth ! Faugh ! It- makes me shudder to think 

 of it. 



During the few days the snow covered the ground, 

 some of the men, netting pigeons in Bingham town- 

 ship, caught from five to eight hundred dollars' worth 

 of the birds. 



