BARRENS OF KENTUCKY. 83 



of a gigantic serpent. Multitudes are seen, some- 

 times, in groups, at the estimate of a hundred 

 and sixtj-tliree flocks in twentj-one minutes. 

 The noonday light is then darkened as by an 

 eclipse, and the air filled with the dreamy buz- 

 zing of their wings. 



Not unfrequently a terrible massacre of these 

 birds takes place, when an armed company of 

 men and boys assemble on the banks of the 

 Ohio for their destruction. Great pomp attends 

 the cruel victory — a camp is fojmed, fires are 

 lighted, and overpowering is the din and con- 

 fusion of the contest. Enormous quantities are 

 destroyed, and the remains left unappropriated 

 on the ground. Spite of these devastations, the 

 number of the birds is always doubled, and often 

 quadrupled yearly. 



But more terrible to the winged tribes, than 

 forest crusades, sweeping with desolation through 

 the woods like tornadoes, are the earthquakes, 

 which menace a traveller over those vast and 

 dreary plains — the famed Barrens of Kentucky. 

 "Wandering over them one November afternoon, 

 Audubon was surprised by a sudden and strange 

 darkness, spreading from the western horizon. 

 Eegarding it as the forerunner only of one of 

 the hurricanes, a storm to which he was well 

 used, without further apprehension, he merely 

 spurred his horse to reach the sheltering roof of 



