CLASS II. AVES: ORDER 4. COLUMB^. 



231 



of one hundred nests were found. It was dangerous to walk under these flying and fluttering 

 millions, from the frequent fall of large branches, broken down by the weight of the multitudes 

 above, and which in their descent often destroyed numbers of the birds themselves ; while the 

 clothes of those engaged in traversing the woods were completely covered with the excrements 

 of the pigeons." 



On another occasion* tlie writer of these pages has treated of this subject as follows : " The 



story told by "Wilson and Audu- 

 bon as to the amazing quantity 

 of pigeons in the AVest, was re- 

 alized by us in Connecticut half 

 a century ago. I have seen a 

 stream of these noble birds, pour- 

 ing at brief intervals through 

 the skies, from the rising to the 

 setting sun, and this in the 

 county of Fairfield. I may here 

 add, that of all the pigeon tribe 

 — this of our country — the pas- 

 senger pigeon is the swiftest 

 and most beautiful of a swift 

 and beautiful generation. At 

 the same time, it is unquestion- 

 ably superior to any other for 

 the table. All the other species 

 of the eastern, as well as the 

 western continent, which I have 

 tasted are soft and flavorless in 

 comparison. 



" I can recollect no sports of 

 my youth which equaled in ex- 

 citement our pigeon hunts, gen- 

 erally taking place in September 

 and October. We usually start- 

 ed on horseback before daylight, 

 and made a rapid progress to 

 some stubble-field on West 

 Mountain. The ride in the keen, 

 fresh air, especially as the dawn' 

 began to break, was delightful. 

 The gradual encroachment of 

 day upon the sight filled my 

 mind with sublime imao-es : the 

 waking up of a world from sleep, 

 the joyousness of birds and 

 beasts in the return of morning, 

 and my own sympathy in this 

 cheerful and grateful homage of the heart to God, the giver of good — all contributed to render 

 these adventures most impressive upon my young heart. My memory is still full of the sights and 

 sounds of those glorious mornings ; the silvery whistle of the wings of migrating flocks of plover — 

 invisible in the gray mists of dawn ; the faint murmur of the distant mountain torrents ; the so- 

 norous gong of the long-trailing flocks of wild geese, seeming to come from the unseen depths of 



WILD PIGEONS. 



See " Recollections of a Lifetime," 1856. Vol. I., p. 99. 



