142 THE PASSENGER PIGEON. 
has introduced into his description, have only 
been known as animals of nocturnal movements, 
and of very skulking and suspecting habits. In 
general, the flash of a gun, the crackling of a flame, 
or the shout of a huntsman, will scare any one 
of them, even when concealed in the lonely re- 
treat; but, on this ever-memorable occasion, the 
nerves of the animals, both large and small, were 
strung up to an astonishing degree of intensity. 
The day had already dawned, unheeded by them; 
and it was only at sunrise that they seemed aware 
of being in dangerous company, and found that 
it was high time to sneak off from a place where, 
Mr. Audubon tells us “there was little under- 
wood ;” where “ the uproar continued the whole of 
the night ;” where men had assembled “ with iron 
pots, containing sulphur;” and “ with torches of 
pine-knots, with poles and with guns;” where 
“fires were lighted, and a magnificent as well as 
wonderful and almost terrifying sight presented 
itself;” where, in fine, the auditory faculties of 
Mr. Audubon himself became so completely use- 
less, on account of the stunning noise, that, ab- 
solutely, he was “only aware of the firing by 
seeing the shooters reloading.” “O judgment! 
thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost 
their reason,” if they can bring themselves to be- 
lieve that into this sulphureous, torch-lighted, de- 
tonating, yelling, roaring, and terrific attack on 
the passenger pigeons, there came up a motley 
herd of wolves, foxes, cougars, lynxes, bears, rac- 
coons, opossums, and polecats, to share the plun- 
