58 The Passenger Pigeon 



other, "That wheat was soaked in whisky." His an- 

 swer fell like lead upon my heart. We had talked 

 temperance together the night before, and the old man 

 wept when I told him how my people had fallen before 

 the intoxicating cup of the white man like leaves before 

 the blast of autumn. In silence I left the place, saying 

 in my heart, "Surely the time is now fulfilled, when 

 false prophets shall show signs and wonders to seduce, 

 if it were possible, even the elect." 



I have read recently in some of our game-sporting 

 journals, "A warwhoop has been sounded against some 

 of our western Indians for killing game in the moun- 

 tain region." Now, if these red men are guilty of a 

 moral wrong which subjects them to punishment, I 

 would most prayerfully ask in the name of Him who 

 suffers not a sparrow to fall unnoticed, what must be 

 the nature of the crime and degree of punishment await- 

 ing our white neighbors who have so wantonly butch- 

 ered and driven from our forests these wild pigeons, the 

 most beautiful flowers of the animal creation of North 

 America. 



In closing this article I wish to say a few words 

 relative to the knowledge of things about them that 

 these birds seem to possess. 



In the spring of 1866 there were scattered through- 

 out northern Indiana and southern Michigan vast num- 

 bers of these birds. On April 10, in the morning, they 

 commenced moving in small flocks in diverging lines 



