16 THE KEY WEST PIGEON, OR DOVE. 



to the right, then to the left, then pushed forward, and raising his piece as 

 he stopped, immediately fired. "I have it," cried he. "What?" cried I. 

 "The pigeon" — and he disappeared. The heat was excessive, and the 

 brushwood here was so thick and tangled, that had not Mr. Sykes been a 

 United States soldier, I should have looked upon him as bent on retaliating 

 on behalf of "the eccentric naturalist;" for, although not more than ten paces 

 distant from me, not a glimpse of him could I obtain. After crawling to the 

 spot I found him smoothing the feathers of a Pigeon which I had never 

 seen, nay the most beautiful yet found in the United States. How I gazed 

 on its resplendent plumage!— how I marked the expression of its rich- 

 coloured, large and timid eye, as the poor creature was gasping its last 

 breath!— Ah, how I looked on this lovely bird! I handled it, turned it, 

 examined its feathers and form, its bill, its legs and claws, weighed it by 

 estimate, and after a while formed a winding sheet for it of a piece of paper. 

 Did ever an Egyptian pharmacopolist employ more care in embalming the 

 most illustrious of the Pharaohs, than I did in trying to preserve from injury 

 this most beautiful of the woodland cooers! 



I never felt, nor did m}^ companion, that our faces and hands were 

 covered with musquitoes; and although the perspiration made my eyes 

 smart, I was as much delighted as ever I had been on such an occasion. We 

 travelled onward, mueh in the same manner, until we reached the opposite 

 end of the island; but not another bird did we meet this day. 



As we sat near the shore gazing on the curious light pea-green colour of 

 the sea, I unfolded my prize, and as I now more quietly observed the 

 brilliant changing metallic hues of its plumage, I could not refrain from 

 exclaiming — "But who will draw it?" for the obvious difficulties of copying 

 nature struck me as powerfully as they ever had done, and brought to my 

 memory the following passage: — "La nature se joue du pinceau des hommes; 

 — lorsqu' on croit qu'il a atteint sa plus grande beaute, elle sourit et 

 s'embellit encore!" 



We returned along the shore of this curious island to the garrison, after 

 which Major Glassel's barge conveyed me on board of the Marion. 



I have taken upon myself to name this species the Key West Pigeon, and 

 offer it as a tribute to the generous inhabitants of that island, who favoured 

 me with their friendship. 



The flight of this bird is low, swift, and protracted. I saw several after- 

 wards when they were crossing from Cuba to Key West, the only place in 

 which I found them. It flies in loose flocks of from five or six to a dozen, 

 with flappings having an interval apparently of six feet, so very low over 

 the sea, that one might imagine it on the eve of falling into the water every 

 moment. It is fond of going out from the thickets early in the morning, 



