SPECIES EXTINCT OR EXTIRPATED. 469 



attribute of the Pigeon was its disregard of the presence of 

 human beings in its roosting and nesting phices. Any one 

 who entered quietly one of these spots when the birds were 

 there would be surrounded by the unsuspicious creatures in a 

 few minutes. The nests formerly were placed in trees of great 

 height, in some locality near water, where food was plentiful; 

 but after the primeval forests were cut off, the Pigeons nested 

 sometimes in low trees. This contributed to their doom. 

 The best description of the nesting of these birds that I have 

 seen is given by Chief Pokagon, in the Chautauquan (Novem- 

 ber, 1895, Vol. XXII, No. 20). He was a full-blooded Indian, 

 and the last Pottawottomi chief of the Pokagon band. His 

 account as quoted by Mr. Mershon, follows : — 



It was proverbial with our fathers that if the Great Spirit in His wis- 

 dom could have created a more elegant bird in plumage, form, and move- 

 ment. He never did. When a young man I have stood for hours admiring 

 the movements of these birds. I have seen them fly in unbroken lines from 

 the horizon, one line succeeding another from morning until night, moving 

 their unbroken columns like an army of trained soldiers pushing to the 

 front, while detached bodies of these birds appeared in different parts of 

 the heavens, pressing forward in haste like raw recruits preparing for battle. 

 At other times I have seen them move in one unbroken column for hours 

 across the sky, like some great river, ever varying in hue; and as the mighty 

 stream, sweeping on at sixty miles an hour, reached some deep valley, it 

 would pour its living mass headlong down hundreds of feet, sounding as 

 though a whirlwind was abroad in the land. I have stood by the grandest 

 waterfall of America and regarded the descending torrents in wonder and 

 astonishment, yet never have my astonishment, wonder and admiration 

 been so stirred as when I have witnessed these birds drop from their course 

 like meteors from heaven. 



. . . About the middle of May, 1850, while in the fur trade, I was camp- 

 ing on the head waters of the Manistee River in Michigan. One morning 

 on leaving my wigwam I was startled by hearing a gurgling, rumbling sound, 

 as though an army of horses laden with sleigh bells was advancing through 

 the deep forests toward me. As I listened more intently, I concluded that 

 instead of the tramping of horses it was distant thunder; and yet the morning 

 was clear, calm and beautiful. Nearer and nearer came the strange com- 

 mingling sounds of sleigh bells, mixed with the rumbling of an approach- 

 ing storm. While I gazed in wonder and astonishment, I beheld moving 

 toward me in an unbroken front millions of pigeons, the first I had seen 

 that season. They passed like a cloud through the branches of the high 

 trees, through the underbrush and over the ground, apparently overturning 



