356 ZENAIDA DOVE. 



this description, their places of resort are well known, and are called 

 Pigeon or " Dove KeysT It would be useless to search for them else- 

 where. They are by no means so abundant as the White-headed Pigeons, 

 which place their nest oii any kind of tree, even on those whose roots are 

 constantly submersed. Groups of such trees occur of considerable ex- 

 tent, and are called " Wet Keys."" 



The Zenaida Dove always places her nest on the ground, sometimes 

 artlessly at the foot of a low bush, and so exposed that it is easily dis- 

 covered by any one searching for it. Sometimes, however, it uses great 

 discrimination, placing it between two or more tufts of grass, the tops of 

 which it manages to bend over, so as completely to conceal it. The sand 

 is slightly scooped out, and the nest is composed of slender dried blades 

 of grass, matted in a circular form, and imbedded amid dry leaves and 

 twigs. The fabric is more compact than the nest of any other pigeon 

 with which I am acquainted, it being sufficiently solid to enable a person 

 to carry the eggs or young in it with security. The eggs are two, pure 

 white, and translucent. When sitting on them, or when her young are 

 still small, this bird rarely removes from them, unless an attempt be made 

 to catch her, which she however evades with great dexterity. On several 

 occasions of this kind, I have thought that the next moment would ren- 

 der me the possessor of one of these doves alive. Her beautiful eye was 

 steadily bent on mine, in which she must have discovered my intention, 

 her body was gently made to retire sidewise to the farther edge of her 

 nest, as my hand drew nearer to her, and just as I thought I had hold 

 of her, off she glided with the quickness of thought, taking to wing at 

 once. She would then alight within a few yards of me, and watch my 

 motions with so much sorrow, that her wings drooped, and her whole 

 frame trembled as if suffering from intense cold. Who could stand such 

 a scene of despair .'' I left the mother to her eggs or offspring. 



On one occasion, however, I found two young birds of this species 

 about half grown, which I carried off, and afterwards took to Charleston, 

 in South Carolina, and presented to my worthy friend the Rev. John 

 Bachman. When I robbed this nest, no parent bird was near. The 

 little ones uttered the usual lisping notes of the tribe at this age, and as 

 I put their bills in my mouth, I discovered that they might be easily 

 raised. They were afterwards fed from the mouth with Indian corn 

 meal, which they received with avidity, until placed under the care of a 

 pair of common tame pigeons, which at once fostered them. 



