1^6 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
atld shucked them there, mixing the shells with their cot- 
ton. We would never have thought of giving them a 
bag for a bed if they had not appropriated a large duck 
bag which I needed for my soiled collars and cufifs. Thej^ 
refused to leave it unless compelled, and seemed to think 
tlie starched linen comfortable enough. That bag would 
be the first place they sought when they were allowed in 
the house, and if left to themselves they were soon 
asleep in it. 
Some of the collar corners did not present so good aa 
appearance after their sojourn there, for they will nibble 
a little, although they do much less damage than might be 
expected. 
They had much sport with a dry, yellow birch stub, dry 
and rotten to the core, which I put into their cage last 
winter. This was soon burrowed into, making little cavi- 
ties on all sides, which they now began to occupj'^ singly, 
although they had always slept together before. By 
spring there was nothing left of the stump but a mere shell, 
as thej' had tunneled it in all directions, and when we 
attempted to remove it from the cage it fell in pieces. 
This year they are occupying an old Fedora hat, which lies 
flat on the cage floor and is full of cotton. 
Their mode of ingress and egress is through the top, in 
Tw-hich they have gnawed several large holes. As is prob- 
ably well known, these animals are by habit nocturnal, 
consequently imless a special effort is made it is hard to 
arouse one during the day, while during the evening 
they are so lively that we always leave them in the 
cage, unless we are quite sure no stranger will come in. 
Even when we are alone they are a good deal of care 
after dark, and we consider the cage safest for them. I 
believe they remain awake about all night, as they c?n t?e 
heard gnawing nuts at almost any hour. 
While the little fellows are very timid, and the slightest 
motion of the hand or a sudden noise will startle them for 
a second, they have become so accustomed to the noises 
about the house that practically the only one which ' 
causes them more than a second's fear is the broom. 
That they do hate cordially, as did the older ones be- 
fore them. In this litter are two females and one male, 
and we are looking forward with interest to the rearing 
of two rival families in the spring. This time we hope 
the little ladies may not shirk their duties, for we must 
have lost the most interesting part of their babj'hood in 
not seeing the mother teach them to jump, and do the 
thousand and one pretty things which they had to learn 
by themselves. I have given our experience, which has 
proved a great pleasure to us, and I would dearly like to 
know if some one else has not studied flying squirrels 
too, so that we could compare notes. C. C. H. 
busiest districts of London, where they build their nests 
and rear their young in the large trees. Here they perch 
on the chimneys and on the statues, and walk abput on. 
the pavements looking for food. 
Besides his remarks on the birds occurrmg in London 
and on their ways of life and the particular sections that 
certain species inhabit, Mr. Hudson treats also of pro- 
tection of birds in the London parks. For he declares 
this to be a book with a purpose — the pointing out among 
other things of the extreme pleasure that the city dweller 
takes in seeing and hearing wild birds, and the conse- 
quent value of bird life. He notices that many species com- 
monly resident throughout the year in London have quite 
died out, enumerating among the larger kinds the raven, 
magpie, peregrine, falcon and kestrel, as have also a 
number of smaller species, and that some birds still re- 
siding there are reduced in numbers and confined to one 
or to A^ery few spots ; that while many other resident 
species have greatly decreased in numbers, two small 
birds, the sparrow and the starling, have increased, while 
some species have recently come into London from the 
outside. Also during the migrating season many birds 
temporarily get into London; some of these, which are 
summer visitors, having regularly bred thete up to with- 
in a few. years. Thus the bird population of London is 
Birds in London. 
We are accustomed to think of great cities jis wholly 
given over to the arts of civilization, and as quite lacking 
in anything pertaining to untouched nature. Nothing 
can be more artificial than the conventionally shaped 
beds of bright flowers which adorn our parks, and even 
the grass and the trees are trimmed and tended until 
they become quite unlike the real thing. Of all cities on 
the globe London is the vastest, and yet now a book has 
been written on wild "Birds in London," and a most in- 
teresting volume it is, Mr. W. H. Hudson is the author, 
and his volume of more than 300 pages is beautifully 
brought out by the Longmans. 
Mr. Hudson is a naturalist, who sees what goes on 
about him, and better yet, who is able to tell his readers, 
in common language, "understanded of the people," what 
it is that he sees. We might imagine that a horde of 
sparrows would be the only feathered inhabitants of this 
great city, but the truth is very different. To say nothing 
of the smaller creatures that require a little space to live 
their lives, we find existing in London the carrion crow, a 
bird closely allied to our own common crow ; rooks, wood 
pigeons, blackbirds, thrushes and English robins, with 
herons and many other species. Then in the parks there 
are the dabchick, a sort of grebe; the moor hen, a gal- 
linule, and gulls, besides many varieties of domestic and 
introduced birds. Even wild geese have been seen in 
winter. Besides these, during the migration, there are 
many birds in London that the common eye never sees. 
"At this mutable season a person who electS to spend 
his nights on the roof, with rugs and an umbrella to keep 
out cold and wet, may be rewarded by hearing far-off 
shrill delicate noises of straggling sandpipers or other 
shore birds on passage, or the mysterious cry of the lap- 
wing 'wailing his way from cloud to cloud.' All these 
rare sights and sounds are for the various patient watch- 
ers and listeners ; nevertheless they are the onh-^ 'authentic 
tidings' "the Londoner receives of that great and wonder- 
ful wave of life which travels southward over half the 
^lobe in advance of winter." 
Many most interesting facts are set forth by Mr. Hud- 
son in his interesting volume. For example, he tells us 
that the carrion crow is in the balance in London, neither 
increasing nor decreasing. While many of them feed 
along the shores of the Thames at low water, picking up 
food left by the tide, many others feed on scraps of food 
which are the waste of London tables. In the southwest 
district of London crows may be seen sitting like domestic 
doves on the roofs and chimneys of the tall houses. But 
little seems to be known in England concerning the ex- 
traordinary intelligence of the crow in- captivity, a subject 
which is familiar enough on this side of the water. 
One of the birds which has recently invaded London 
is the wood pigeon, or ring dove. "Twenty years ago," 
says Mr. Hudson, "the wood pigeon was almost un- 
known in London, the very few birds that existed being 
confined to the woods on the borders of the metropolis 
and to some of the old private parks. * * * But from 
1883, when a single pair nested in Buckingham Palace 
Gardens, wood pigeons have increased and spread from 
year to year, until the present time, when there is not 
any park with large old trees or with trees of a moderate 
size where these birds are not annual breeders. As the 
park trees no longer afford them sufficient accommoda- 
tion, they have gone to other smaller areas, and to many 
squares and gardens, private and public. Thus in Soho 
Square no fewer than six pairs had nests last summer. It 
was very pleasant, a friend told me, to look out of his 
window on an April morning, and see two milk-white 
eggs, bright as gems, in the sunlight lying in the frail nest 
in a plane tree not many yards away." Not only this, but 
the wood pigeons have spread through the heart of the 
\V001) PIGEON ON THE SHAKESPEAF.R ST-'YTUE. 
constantly undergoing changes, many species decreas- 
ing, while some ai-e increasing. Mr. Hudson urges that 
wild birds should be encouraged to make their homes in 
the parks, that they should be protected from injury by 
any sort of enemies, and that, so far as the birds are con- 
cerned, the cat is a tremendous nuisance. The author 
estimates by his own observation that the entire cat popu- 
lation of London does not fall far short of three-quarters 
of a million. All of these cats are by nature hunters, per- 
haps one hundred thousand of them are starving as well. 
It is not extraordinary then that these animals are a 
tremendous check on any increase in bird population. 
Much more might be said of this extremely interest- 
ing book,- which shows so well how much of nature is to 
be seen even in the most unlikely places, provided only 
the observer has eyes to see those things which are hid- 
den from so many others. 
The book is illustrated with seventeen full page plates, 
and almost as many illustrations in the text, which add 
much to its interest. In all that pertains to its nianu- 
facture it is worthy of the firm who are its publishers. 
Of the species which have established colonies in Lon- 
don during recent years, the wood pigeon, or ring dove, 
is the most important, being the largest in size and the 
most numerous; and it is also remarkable on account of 
its beauty, melody, and tameness. Indeed, the presence 
of this bird and its abundance is a compensation for some 
of our losses suffered in recent years. It has for many 
of us, albeit in a less degree than the carrion crow, some- 
what of glamor, producing in such a place as Kensington 
Gardens an illusion of wild nature; and watching it sud- 
denly spring aloft, with loud flap of wings, to soar circling 
on high and descend in a graceful curve to its tree again, 
and listening to the beautiful sound of its human-like 
plaint, which may be heard not only in summer, but on 
any mild day in winter, one is apt to lose sight of the in- 
creasingly artificial aspect of things; to forget the havoc 
that has been wrought, until the surviving trees— the de- 
cayed giant about whose roots the cruel, hungry, glitter- 
ing axe ever flits and plays like a hawk-moth in the sum- 
mer twilight — no longer seem conscious of their doom. 
Twenty years ago the wood pigeon was almost un- 
known in London, the very few birds that existed being 
confined to woods on the borders of the metropolis and 
to some of the old private parks except two or three pairs 
that bred in the group of fir trees on the north side of 
Kensington Gardens," "and one pair 'in St, James' Park, 
Tree-felling caused these birds to abandon the parks 
some time during the seventies. But from 1883, when a 
single pair nested in Buckingham Palace Gardens, wood 
pigeons have increased and spread from year to year until 
the present time, when there is not any park with large 
old trees, or with trees of a moderate size, where these 
birds are not annual- breeders. As the park trees no 
longer afford them sufficient accommodation, they have 
gone to the other smaller areas, and to many squares and 
gardens, private and public. 
Even in the heart of the srhoky, roaring city they build 
their nests and rear their young on any large tree. To 
other spaces, where there are no suitable trees, they are 
daily visitors ; and lately I have been amused to see them 
come in small flocks to the coal deposits of the Great 
Western Railway at Westbourne Park. What attraction 
this busy black place, vexed with rumbling, puffing and 
shrieking noises, can have for them 1 - cannot guess. 
These doves, when disturbed, invariably fly to a terrace 
of houses close by and perch on the chimney-pots, a newly 
acquired habit. In Leicester Square I have seen as many 
as a dozen to twenty birds at a time, leisurely moving 
about on the asphalted walk in search of crumbs of 
bread. It is not unusual to see one pird perched in a 
pretty attitude on the head of Shakespeare's statue in the 
middle of the square, the most commanding position. 
I never admired that marble until I thus saw it occupied 
by the pretty dove-colored quest, with white collar, iri- 
descent neck and orange bill ; since then I have thought 
highly of it, and am grateful to Baron Albert Grant for 
his gift to London. I heartily wish that the birds would 
make use in the same way of many other statues with 
which our public places are furnished, if not adorned. 
So numerous are the wood pigeons at the end of sum- 
mer in their favorite parks that it is easy for any person, 
by throwing a few handfuls of grain, to attract as many 
as twenty or thirty of them to his feet. Their tameness 
is wonderful, and they are delightful to look at, although 
so 'stout of figure. Considering their enormous appetites, 
their portliness seems only natural. But a full habit does 
not detract from their beauty ; they remind us of some of 
our dearest lady friends, who in spite of their two score 
or more summers, and largeness where the maiden is 
.slim,' have somehow retained loveliness and grace. We 
have seen that the London wood pigeon, like the London 
crow, occasionally alights on buildings. One bird comes 
to a ledge of a house front opposite my window, and 
walks up and down there. We may expect that other 
changes in the birds' habits will come about in-tirne, if the 
present rate of increase should continue. 
The Passenger Pigeon. 
New Yokk, Feb. 9. — Editor Forest and Stream: In 
you issue of tlv^ .iith, under the head of "Snap Shots," 
you speak of thfe-f passenger pigeon, and surmise that the 
name may have' come from the irregularity of its mi- 
grations, These statements are so at variance with my 
own experience that I venture to write you. 
When a boy, in the late forties, I spent most of the 
time on my grandfather's country seat at Manhattanville. 
on the North River. I spent all my leisure in fishing and 
shooting. There was good bass and weak fishing 
in the river, and many quail and woodcock on the hills 
along the North and Harlem rivers. 
The wild pigeon, known only by that name, flew south 
on both sides of the North River by the thousands in 
the fall, and in lesser number flew nOrth in the spring. 
These raigi'ations occurred with the utmost regularity. 
The first easterly storm after Sept. i, clearing up with 
a strong northwest wind, was as surely followed by a 
flight of wild pigeons as the sun was to rise. During such 
stortns I have passed many a sleepless night watching 
to catch the first change of wind, and when it veered 
northwest daybreak found me on the river bank watch- 
ing for the flight that never failed. Ah! how my heart 
jumped as flock after flock of wild pigeons came flying 
over Fort Washington like small clouds. I have shot a 
great many of them, but alas, like the buffalo, they are 
almost exterminated. F. N. Lawrence. 
Kalamazoo, Mich,, Feb. 3. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Your article "The Wild Pigeon" reminds me I can throw 
some light on them by an incident happening to me four 
years ago, when out for turkeys in a large swamp twenty 
miles west of this city. 
This piece of jnaccessible swamp is nearly thirty miles 
long by one to five wide, wooded in parts heavily, on 
high spots, and thick with undergrowth. 
I was in a fence corner adjoining a cornfield before 
daylight; my companion was in a corn shalk. At just 
daylight, as we were expectantly looking for the turkeys 
that didn't come, a pair of bluerock pigeons flew from 
the swamp. The cock lighted on a shrub, and the dove 
on the ground within 10ft. of me. I would not ^have shot 
this beautiful bird for any price, and was most fearful 
my companion might not have the sentiment I had; but 
he did not shoot. As they cooed to each other, this beau- 
tiful pair of an almost lo.st race, how sweet the sound. 
Over me swept memories of- my boyhood days when they 
nested near here, and the great clouds that passed morning 
and night to and from their Ohio feeding grounds. The 
old musket I so fondly cherished in those days, the 
best shooter in Michigan, about I2lbs. weight, more or 
less, was again before me. How inferior the pleasure T 
got with my 12-bore hammerless. Those days — care free, 
plenty of game, poor gun. These days — no game, good 
gun, too busy to hunt. Shoot those birds? I would as 
soon have shot my companion. They were a ray of sun- 
shine through the leaden clouds. 
Well, I'll put up my topsail and say what I started to 
say, that I recently heard direct from Venezuela, S. A., 
that the wild pigeons in great quantities were in the 
heavy forests of that country. G. H, W. 
Field Columbian Museum. 
The annual report of the Director to the Board -of 
Trustees for the vear ending Sept. 30, 1898, contams 
much that is interesting. The story told is one of con- 
tinual progress, of steady and systematic scientific work, 
of increasing collection.s, and a larger exhibition of ma- 
terial to the public view than ever before. The lecture 
course ■ carried' on from October to April covered a 
whole field of interesting subjects. 
The year has been bountiful in accessions to the treas- 
ures of the museum by purchase, by collection and by 
gifts. The expeditions made by the different curators 
have covered a wide territory, that of Mr. Elliot to the 
Olympian Mountains, and of Mr. Dorsey to the North- 
