756 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 8, 1909. 
IS 
THE MARCH OF PROGRESS 
STILL GOES ON 
INDIANAPOLIS. IND.. APRIL 21-22 
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Dr. W. S. Stranghan, “ “ 
C. O. Le Compte, “ “ 
James Bell, “ “ 
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WOODSTOCK. TENN.. APRIL 25 
C. O. Le Compte, 
D. A. Edwards, 
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using DPUONT, 
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TKe Powder That Winners Use 
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ite. Booklet 
JERSEY CITY. N. J, 
Uncle Lisha^s Shop. 
Life in a Corner of Yankeeland. By Rowland E. Robin¬ 
son. Cloth. 187 pages. Price, J1.25. 
The shop itself, the place of business of Uncle Lisha 
Peggs, bootmaker and repairer, was a sort of sportsman’s 
exchange, where, as one of the fraternity expressed it, 
the hunters and fishermen of the widely scattered neigh¬ 
borhood used to meet of evenings and dull outdoor days 
“to swap lies. ’ 
' FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 
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ITHACA GUN CO, 
Ithaca, N. Y. 
found resting place in the woods, as was sub¬ 
sequently determined by reconnoitering woods¬ 
men, the area covered by the roost was eight 
miles in extent from east to west and five miles 
from north to south. 
That this colony of wild pigeons was the one 
that had so suddenly abandoned the Sullivan 
county and adjacent wilderness was beyond 
question. The nearest point in the Pennsylvania 
woods where the birds rested after their flight 
from New York was forty-five miles, air line, 
almost due west. The pigeons therefore 
traveled at the rate of nearly a mile a minute in 
making the journey. Notwithstanding the con¬ 
stant onslaught made upon the nesting pigeons 
by armies of people from all the country round, 
slaughtering them by thousands day and night, 
the birds surviving persisted in their nesting 
and their roosting and remained until the squabs 
were old enough to take wing, when they rose 
for flight, still moving westward, and, as was 
the testimony of all who had seen them when 
the colony came in, apparently in as great num¬ 
ber, if not greater, than when they appeared. 
And never since then has there been a flight of 
wild pigons in New York or in eastern Penn¬ 
sylvania. 
A pigeon roost and nesting place of old about 
the headwaters of the Delaware and its tribu¬ 
taries is of historic record, not only for its gi¬ 
gantic dimensions, but for its memorable op¬ 
portuneness and importance in the domestic 
economy of the region. In 1837 times were 
very hard in the upper Delaware Valley. That 
was the year of- the great panic. Lumbering 
was the mainstay of Sullivan county and the 
neighboring counties, both of this State and 
Pennsylvania. Lumber that year was not selling 
for enough to cover the cost of its production. 
To add to the distress the crops of the year be¬ 
fore had been very short. That season, how¬ 
ever, was a great beechnut year. There were 
dense beech forests then in the region. Beech¬ 
nuts are an uncertain crop, and in the days when 
they were a factor in the welfare of the back- 
wood dwellers a scant beechnut crop meant a 
corresponding scarcity of wild game. Two 
years in succession there had been no beech¬ 
nuts, but the big crop of ’36 left the forest 
floor deep with the mast So attractive and 
necessary to wild pigeons particularly. So the 
spring of 1837 brought these birds to the upper 
Delaware woods in unprecedented numbers. 
As is the well founded tradition of many a 
leading family in those counties to-day, it was a 
fortunate thing that the wild pigeon appeared 
as they did, for the news of the bread riots in 
New York had spread to the lumber regions 
and the needs of the people there would have 
led them soon to imitate the rioters in the city. 
The coming of the pigeons turned the attention 
of the people away from thoughts of raiding, 
and all that part of the country turned out for 
a combined onslaught on the birds. 
An Orange county ancient has personal recol¬ 
lection of that historic pigeon roost and the re¬ 
markable and exciting incidents that attended 
its presence and the unceasing campaign of 
slaughter that was carried on against the vast 
pigeon colony. 
“I was a boy of 10.” says he. “People went 
by the score from Orange county and from 
every other county within a hundred miles of 
that pigeon roost to get a share of the birds. 
My father saddled his horse and went, too, and 
took me along with him. It was a two-days’ 
journey to the woods where the roost was. The 
time was early April. We arrived on the scene 
one afternoon about 4 o’clock. It was in the 
depth of a wilderness, and as far as the eye 
could see on every possible resting place on 
every limb of every tree, was a rude, shallow 
nest of sticks, and above the rim of every nest 
the heads of two fat squabs, unable yet to fly, 
were thrust. 
“Scattered about in the forest were numerous 
shacks or shanties built of logs, boughs or bark. 
These were occupied by pigeon gatherers who 
had congregated there from all parts of the 
country thereabout. Squabs were continually 
falling from the insecure nests and the ground 
was covered with them, dead and dying. Men, 
women and children were gathering them, draw- 
