656 
away, which was naturally a great disappoint¬ 
ment. The sun was now high, indicating lunch 
time, so we hobbled our horses, took the saddles 
off, and proceeded to boil our billy of tea and 
eat our sandwiches. A couple of hours rest 
and a smoke in the shade of a wild sandal-wood 
tree refreshed us, and we started off on our re¬ 
turn journey. As we rode along, we had a Ayr 
ing shot at a couple of kangaroos we had dis¬ 
turbed. This time I had the luck, and shot one, 
while my friend missed his aim. We skinned 
the animal, and bagged his tail, which made 
some excellent soup on the morrow. On near¬ 
ing the wheat paddock we went very cautiously, 
and were amply rewarded. There they were 
again—the same birds, but they seemed more 
restless than in the morning. We each picked 
our bird, adopting the same plan as before, and 
fired, with the satisfactory result that we both 
brought down our bird. I had selected a cock 
bird, my friend's being a hen. We had not a 
particularly heavy bag, it is true, thanks to the 
interfering cockatoos, but we were well satis¬ 
fied, and had enjoyed an exceedingly pleasant 
day’s sport.—Emile Donnier, in the Illustrated 
and Dramatic News. 
New Publications. 
‘‘Outdoors ; a Book of the Woods, Fields 
and ' Marshlands,” a collection of shooting 
and fishing sketches that originally appeared m 
the Chicago and St. Louis papers over the 
signature of Ernest McGaffey, is a worthy 
addition to the literature of^ American sport 
with the rod, gun and rifle. The book contains 
thirty-two chapters, each on a different subject, 
and thus it may readily be understood how 
wide is its scope. Shooting in all its branches 
is treated pleasingly and instructively, fishmg 
for all our well-known game fish is described 
by this past-master in the gentle art, and his 
other sketches, that have to do with woods- 
loafing, appeal to all sportsmen. 
“Bait-casting, using the frog or live minnow, 
the small shiner or perch,” Mr. McGaffey de¬ 
clares, “is justly claimed to be a science by its 
advocates. It requires a deftness of wrist 
movement, an eye for distance, accuracy in 
placing bait, lightness in dropping it, and va¬ 
rious other accomplishments, besides a thor¬ 
ough knowledge of the habits of the fish and 
of what is ‘fishable’ water. If the fisherman in¬ 
tends to use minnows for casting, he should 
by all means, if possible, get his bait at the 
lake or river where he intends to fish. * ' 
One test of the skill of the bait-caster is to be 
able to plump a frog down in the small pockets 
of open water around floating lilypads and neai 
the bulrush beds close in shore. Big-mouth 
bass have Quite a fashion of linking in these 
spots, and a frog cast skilfully into such a hole 
very often brings a strike. The bait should be 
dropped lightly, so as to produce a liquid and 
alluring ‘plunk’ in the water. This mellow 
sound rouses all the ferocity of a bass, and he 
will take the frog with a ‘kerchug’ of the water 
around where it lit and a triumphant sweep of 
his broad tail.” . 
Again he says: “Trout fishing is a sport that 
takes you where Druids might worship. In the 
vaulted depths of the pine woods there _ is a 
sense of immensity coupled with the titanic 
calm of the great hills beyond. * * * The 
scientific fisher with his flies can do great things 
in trout fishing. It is not the barefoot boy 
‘with cheeks of tan’ and bent pm for book who 
catches all the trout, excepting in the comic 
papers.” Published by Charles Scribner's Sons, 
New York. 
“The Flock,” by Mary Austin, is different 
from other books, but a pleasing one withal. 
It tells the story of the sheep and the shepherds 
of alta California, from the time of the 
Soaniards. History, adventure, romance, the 
allurements of life in the open “where there is 
no weather,” are charmingly treated, and the 
final chapter on “The Sheep and the Forest 
Reserves” is a valuable one. The illustrations, 
by E. Boyd Smith, are excellent. New York, 
Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Pigeon Shooting in Early Days. 
A former article on duck shooting in early 
days was so prolific in reminiscences, and dug 
up in memory’s chambers so many recollec¬ 
tions of the days of auld lang syne that I really 
began to imagine myself the possessor of in¬ 
firmities with which very happily I am not as 
yet afflicted. 
As nearly as I can remember, the last flight 
of pigeons in the section of Iowa, where I lived, 
was in 1859. By a “flight” is meant a continu¬ 
ous passage of flocks numbering thousands for 
a period frequently of three or four days at a 
time, beginning with the early morning and 
lasting until sunset. T he sky was literally 
darkened, flock following flock in such rapid 
succession that they seemed to be one, and re¬ 
sembled—aside from their size—a sight wit¬ 
nessed once at Yankton, S. D., during what was 
known as grasshopper year, the air being filled 
with the flying'hoppers. The rays of the sun 
shining through their translucent wings and 
bodies made them appear like gigantic snow¬ 
flakes, and their passage to resemble a snow¬ 
storm from a cloudless sky. 
Tbe first flight that I recall was in 1854, and 
for three days there was a continuous passage 
of the birds flying rapidly but at a height easily 
within shotgun range. Just south of our home 
there was a vacant space, two blocks square, 
reaching to the banks of the river, and there 
Were at least thirty men and boys scattered over 
this space, firing their pieces as rapidly as they 
could recharge and cap them. As I belonged to 
the boy contingent, and was possessed only of 
a single-barreled gun, I remember well the feel¬ 
ing of envy with which I regarded two or 
three of my boy companions wbo were the 
proud possessors of double barrels. However, 
anything that could be dubbed gun was brought 
into action on these occasions, and the fusilade 
kept up from morning until night. resembled 
the long irregular firing of the skirmish line, 
heard a few years later. I know that I came very 
near being forced into involuntary bankruptcy 
by the heavy inroads made upon my surplus by 
the purchase of powder, shot and caps, driven 
to such extravagance by my love of sport, and 
also by the anticipation of the delicious pot pies 
the birds would make. 
We had in the little village a grocer, a man of 
many peculiarities, and what in the east we used 
to call a character. Shot was selling at that 
time at fifteen cents a pound, or two pounds for 
a quarter. By dint of stringent economy I had 
succeeded in saving up pennies and silver five- 
cent pieces to the exact amount of twenty-five 
cents. With this capital I entered the store of 
the aforesaid grocer, and with the air of a 
modern multi-millionaire, said, “Mr. D., give me 
two pounds of No. 9 shot, please. ’ When duly 
weighed and wrapped, I asked, “How much is 
it?” and was astonished by his answer, “Thirty 
cents.” As the aforesaid quarter represented 
all my present monetary possessions, and the 
“Yankee dicker” was second nature, I said, 
“Shot is sold in every other store in town, two 
pounds for a quarter;” to which Mr. D. an- 
swere, “Well, Charlie, if you want that kind of 
shot, go buy it! Go buy it! . When you put it 
in the gun and shoot it off. it just goes pish! and 
that is all there is to it.” The argument was un¬ 
answerable, but I went away with the shot in 
my possesion; whether Mr. D. ever got the ad¬ 
ditional five cents, I have forgotten. 
The pigeon flights did not occur annually, but 
usually every other year, and I only remember 
three of them in 1855, in 1857 and in 1859. Dur¬ 
ing the intervening years there were usually quite 
a number to be found in the heavy timber, prob¬ 
ably those that remained behind after the others 
resumed their flight, or perhaps those wearied 
from the long distance they had come dropped 
out from the flocks to rest, and finding the 
surroundings to their liking, built nests and 
raised their young. They were usually' found 
in twos or threes sitting quietly on the upper 
branches of some tall trees, and it required good 
eyesight to locate. They were shot sitting; 
wing shooting was almost impossible, owing to 
the heavy foliage of the trees and the height 
at which the birds roosted. They' were seldom 
[April 27, 1907. 
the only game the sportsman sought, but wen 
generally a side issue of a squirrel hunt; oftei 
ten or twelve being added to the bag. 
The pigeon roosts were usually in the heaviest 
timber, generally near a stream of water, anc 
in the three instances of which I had knowledge 
were located at the same place by each flight 
This was about six miles from the town, or 
the banks of Pine Creek, so named from ? 
growth of perhaps a dozen of that species 0 
tree near the ford, and the fact that they were 
the only pine trees in that section of country 
The heavy timber which at that time extender 
for miles north and south has long been clearer 
and the land is now part of farms worth fron; 
$100 to $125 an acre. At the time of which ] 
write, it was still open to government entry a 
$1.25 an acre. The trees were hickory, elm 
butternut, black walnut, ash, red, white, and bur 
oak, and 1 have seen huge black walnut tree 
twenty-four to thirty-six inches in diameter a 
their base, cut down to make clearing, haule< 
together in piles and burned, also many acre 
of prairie farmland fenced with rails split fron 
these trees. To-day a board eighteen inches it 
width of this lumber cannot be found, and i 
is worth $150 a thousand. 
The pigeons checked their flight and settle< 
down on the largest limbs of the tallest of thes- 
trees, beginning about 5 o’clock in the evenin; 
and continuing until dark to fill tree after tre 
until every available inch of space on the limb 
was occupied, those arriving toward the las 
often flying against those already in possessioi 
and knocking them off their perch. While the 
were gathering the noise made by their wing 
in flying, and then by beating against the limb 
when they settled into place, accompanied b 
their peculiar low-pitched cry, made a com 
hination of sounds impossible to describe 1: 
words, but which once heard was never for 
gotten. As far as eye could see the air wa 
filled with the flying birds, not in flocks but 
steady downpour of feathered . life. There <11 
not seem to be any diminution in the velocity 0 
their flight, or any lessening to the height i 
the air at which they were traveling until the 
were within a few rods of the earlier arrival 
and then a downward swoop with distendc' 
wings. The nearness of bird to bird, and thei 
continuous arrival resembled the pouring of 
sheet of water over the incline of an apron in 
dam across a stream. 
The great numbers of pigeons settling on tli 
same limb, until every available inch of spac 
was filled, suplemented by the late arrivals ofte 
momentarily settling on the backs of those a 
ready in possession, frequently caused an. over 
loading that even the strongest limb couid nr 
withstand, and it was not uncommon to se 
branches five or six inches in diameter at thei 
point of separation from the parent trim 
broken by this overloading, and hanging earth 
ward. When such a break occurred, not onl 
the pigeons that were disturbed by its breaking 
but those on other limbs of that and the nearb 
trees arose in the air and found other roostin 
places, making a continual hub-bub. It wa 
often an hour after the last arrivals before ther 
was even comparative quiet, and this was broke 
at frequent intervals by those of the larger an 
more vigorous birds pushing the tired or weake 
ones off their perch. 
Perhaps the most potent factor in the e> 
termination of these birds was their capture b 
means of nets, thousands of them being take 
in a single night. I remember at one time sec 
ing three large farm wagons, with side board 
above the usual boxes, filled to their top wit 
wild pieeons that had been netted the night be 
fore. These nets were of two kinds, and wer 
made especially for this work; one funne 
shaped, with wings stretched out from eithei 
side, and the other a long and wide afta 
fastened at each end to a long pole. Two c 
three men at each of these poles held them alo 
as far as possible, stretching the net - to its fu 
length. Torches were lit on the opposite s!d| 
of the tree from that on which the net was hel 
and sticks and Hods thrown among the bird 
and thus startled they flew into the darknet 
away from the lights. When the pressm 
against the net indicated that it was well fille' 
