203 
THE WILD PIGEON OF NORTH AMERICA. 
as the flock struggles to rise, leading a 
stranger to think a young cyclone is then 
being born. 
I have visited many of the roosting places 
of these birds, where the ground under the 
great forest trees for thousands of acres 
was covered with branches torn from the 
parent trees, some from eight to ten 
inches in diameter. At such a time so 
much confusion of sound is caused by the 
breaking of limbs and the continual flutter¬ 
ing and chattering that a gun fired a few 
feet distant cannot be heard, while to 
converse so as to be understood is almost 
impossible. 
About the middle of May, 1850, while in 
the fur trade, I was camping on the head 
waters of the Manistee River in Michigan. 
One morning on leaving my wigwam I was 
startled by hearing a gurgling, rumbling 
sound, as though an army of horses laden 
with sleigh bells was advancing through 
the deep forests toward me. As I listened 
more intently I concluded that instead of 
the tramping of horses it was distant thun¬ 
der ; and yet the morning was clear, calm, 
and beautiful. Nearer and nearer came 
the strange commingling sounds of sleigh- 
bells, mixed with the rumbling of an ap¬ 
proaching storm. While I gazed in wonder 
and astonishment, I beheld moving toward 
me in an unbroken front millions of pigeons, 
the first I had seen that season. They 
passed like a cloud through the branches 
of the high trees, through the underbrush 
and over the ground, apparently overturning 
every leaf. Statuelike I stood, half con¬ 
cealed by cedar boughs. They fluttered all 
about me, lighting on my head and shoul¬ 
ders; gently I caught two in my hands 
and carefully concealed them under my 
blanket. 
I now began to realize they were mating, 
preparatory to nesting. It was an event which 
I had long hoped to witness; so I sat down 
and carefully watched their movements, 
amid the greatest tumult. I tried to under¬ 
stand their strange language, and why they 
all chatted in concert. In the course of the 
•day the great on-moving mass passed by 
me, but the trees were still filled with them 
sitting in pairs in convenient crotches of the 
limbs, now and then gently fluttering their 
half spread wings and uttering to their mates 
those strange bell-like wooing notes which 
I had mistaken for the ringing of bells in 
the distance. 
On the third day after, this chattering 
ceased and all were busy carrying sticks 
with which they were building nests in the 
same crotches of the limbs they had oc¬ 
cupied in pairs the day before. On the 
morning of the fourth day their nests were 
finished and eggs laid. The hen birds oc¬ 
cupied the nests in the morning, while the 
male birds went out into the surrounding 
country to feed, returning about ten o’clock, 
taking the nests, while the hens went out to 
feed, returning about three o’clock. Again 
changing nests, the male birds went out the 
second time to feed, returning at sun¬ 
down. The same routine was pursued each 
day until the young ones were hatched and 
nearly half grown, at which time all the 
parent birds left the brooding grounds about 
daylight. On the morning of the eleventh 
day after the eggs were laid I found the 
nesting grounds strewn with egg shells, con¬ 
vincing me that the young were hatched. 
In thirteen days more the parent birds left 
their young to shift for themselves, flying to 
the east about sixty miles, when they again 
nested. The female lays but one egg 
during the same nesting. 
Both sexes secrete in their crops milk or 
curd with which they feed their young, until 
they are nearly ready to fly, when they stuff 
them with mast and such other raw material 
as they themselves eat, until their crops ex¬ 
ceed their bodies in size, giving to them an 
appearance of two birds with one head. 
Within two days after the stuffing they 
become a mass of fat, “a squab.” At this 
period the parent bird drives them from 
the nests to take care of themselves, while 
they fly off within a day or two, sometimes 
hundreds of miles, and again nest. 
It has been well established that these 
birds look after and take care of all orphan 
squabs whose parents have been killed or are 
missing. These birds are long lived, having 
been known to live twenty-five years caged. 
