THE MOURNING DOVE 121 



You may think that this putting of salt on a bird's tail 

 has nothing to do with teaching you how to know birds, 

 but it certainly did have a great deal to do with my 

 learning to recognize them, for I am sure that if I had 

 not been simple enough to believe that Dan Scott meant 

 everything he said and if I had not set out to carry it 

 into practise, I never would have met so many interest- 

 ing birds, nor would I have seen so much of their family 

 life. 



I remember very well that one day I was slipping very 

 quietly along the Osage Orange hedge that divided our 

 pastures when suddenly a turtle dove appeared on the 

 ground not three feet in front of me and began wallowing 

 and fluttering as if in great terror, but wholly unable to 

 get away. This was a wholly new procedure to me. Salt 

 and tails alike were forgotten and I made a wild scramble 

 to catch the crippled bird. Down I went on the ground 

 half a dozen times, catching only a handful of grass, the 

 poor bird having been able to get just a few inches from 

 my hand. I was perspiring and worn out with excitement 

 and effort when after chasing this bird back and forth 

 for ten or fifteen minutes it suddenly rose and flew off 

 as nimbly as could be. By this time we were on the bank 

 of the brook where there was a little point with a steep 

 slope on both sides. I had maneuvered to get the bird to 

 this point because I know it would fall off the bank and 

 then I would have a better chance to catch the poor thing. 

 On looking around I discovered that I was more than a 

 hundred yards from where we started the chase. I knew 

 just where it had begun, for there lay my new straw 

 hat, with purple straws woven in it, where I had lost it at 

 the first dive after the dove. I remember this very clearly, 



