Part 21

The CAROLINA TURTLE-DOVE, or PASSENGER PIGEON (_Ectopistes migratorius_), a large and well-known member of the above group, inhabiting North America, is very powerfully built, and has a long neck and small head. The medium-sized beak is slenderly formed, and the wing, in which the second quill exceeds the rest in length, long and pointed; the tail is long and graduated, the tarsus strong, but shorter than the centre toe without its claw. The plumage of the mantle is slate-blue and the under side reddish grey; the sides of the throat gleam with violet; the belly and vent are white, the wings black, edged with white; the centre tail-feathers are black, those at the side light grey, marked with greyish brown and black spots at the base of the inner web. The eye is of a brilliant red, the beak black, and the foot crimson. The female is smaller than her mate, with duller plumage, in which greyish brown predominates; her back and rump are whitish grey, and the centre tail-feathers reddish brown. The length of the male is sixteen inches and a quarter, and his breadth twenty-five inches; the wing measures seven inches and two-thirds, and the tail eight inches and one-sixth. In the female, the length is only fifteen and the breadth twenty-three inches. The Carolina Pigeons inhabit the United States during the summer season, from Canada to Florida, and from the sea-coast to the west of the Mississippi. In the Northern and Middle States they are partially migratory. In North and South Carolina they assemble in flocks during the winter, sometimes of many hundred individuals, but in the spring they return northward, and most frequently fly in pairs, more than three or four being rarely seen together. Their flight is rapid, and generally accompanied by a whistling sound. They frequently circle about, but seldom mount above the trees, visiting the fields for the grain they may be able to glean, and live principally on seeds, acorns, and berries; they are also fond of hempseed and Indian corn. In the winter, when food is scarce, they visit the farmyards, and feed in company with other guests.

The nest is but slightly formed of a few twigs, and lined with dry root-fibres. The eggs, two in number, are snow-white. The young are fed by both parents. More than two broods are seldom produced in the year, sometimes there is only one, but this appears to depend upon the time of laying, which in some parts of the United States begins as early as March, in others not until the middle of May, and on the borders of Lake Superior still later in the year. The usual roosting-places of these birds are among long grass in deserted fields, or dried stalks of corn, amid the stubble, or among the withered foliage of trees. They will return to favourite roosting-grounds from a considerable distance; but though a whole flock often settles in one locality, they seldom roost very near to each other, and if any one approach, even in the darkest night, will at once rise and take flight. The note of the Carolina Turtle Dove is low, plaintive, and repeated at intervals; in the early spring it may be heard among the newly-budding trees of the forest, even at a considerable distance.

"The Passenger Pigeon," writes Audubon, "or, as it is usually named in America, the Wild Pigeon, moves with extreme rapidity, propelling itself by quickly repeated flaps of the wings, which it brings more or less near the body, according to the degree of velocity which is required. Like the Domestic Pigeon, it often flies during the love season in a circling manner, supporting itself with both wings angularly elevated, in which position it keeps them until it is about to alight. Now and then, during these circular flights, the tips of the primary quills of each wing are made to strike against each other, producing a smart rap, which may be heard at a distance of thirty or forty yards. Before alighting, the Wild Pigeon, like the Carolina Parrot and a few other species of birds, breaks the force of its flight by repeated flappings, as if apprehensive of receiving injury from coming too suddenly in contact with the branch or spot of ground on which it intends to settle. I have commenced my description of this species with the above account of its flight because the most important facts connected with its habits relate to its migrations. These are entirely owing to the necessity of procuring food, and are not performed with a view of escaping the severity of a northern latitude, or of seeking a southern one for the purpose of breeding. They, consequently, do not take place at any fixed period or season of the year; indeed, it sometimes happens that a continuance of a sufficient supply of food in one district will keep these birds absent from another for years. I know that in Kentucky they remained for several years constantly, and were nowhere else to be found. They all suddenly disappeared, when the mast was exhausted, and did not return for a long period.

"Their great power of flight enables them to survey and pass over an astonishing extent of country in a very short time. This is proved by facts well known. Thus, Pigeons have been killed in the neighbourhood of New York with their crops full of rice, which they must have collected in the fields of Georgia and Carolina, these districts being the nearest in which they could possibly have procured a supply of that kind of food. As their power of digestion is so great that they will decompose food entirely in twelve hours, they must in this case have travelled between three and four hundred miles in six hours, which shows their average rate of speed to be at about one mile in a minute. A velocity such as this would enable one of these birds, were it so inclined, to visit the European continent in less than three days.

"This great power of flight is seconded by as great a power of vision, which enables them, as they travel at that swift rate, to inspect the country below, discover their food with facility, and thus attain the object for which their journey has been undertaken. This I have also proved to be the case by having observed them, when passing over a sterile district, or one scantily furnished with food suited to them, keep high in the air, flying with an extended front, so as to enable them to survey hundreds of acres at once. On the contrary, when the land is richly covered with food, or the trees abundantly hung with mast, they fly low, in order to discover the part most plentifully supplied."

The innumerable hosts in which the Passenger Pigeon moves, as related by Audubon and Wilson, might seem to be almost fabulous.

"On my way to Frankfort," says the latter writer, "when about one o'clock, the Pigeons which I had observed the greater part of the morning flying northerly began to return in such immense numbers as I had never before witnessed. Coming to an opening by the side of a creek called the Benson, where I had a more uninterrupted view, I was astonished at their appearance. They were flying with great steadiness and rapidity at a height beyond gunshot, in several strata deep, and so close together that could shot have reached them one discharge could not have failed of bringing down several individuals. From right to left, as far as the eye could reach, the breadth of this vast procession extended, seeming everywhere equally crowded. Curious to determine how long this appearance would continue, I took my watch out to note the time, and sat down to observe them. It was then half-past one. I sat for more than an hour, but instead of any diminution of this prodigious procession, it seemed to increase in numbers and rapidity, and, anxious to reach Frankfort before night, I rose and went on. About four o'clock in the afternoon I crossed the Kentucky River, at the town of Frankfort, at which time the living torrent above my head seemed as numerous and as extensive as ever. Long after this I observed them in large bodies, that continued to pass for six or eight minutes, and these again were followed by other detached bodies, all moving in the same direction, till after six in the evening. The great breadth of front which this mighty multitude preserved would seem to intimate a corresponding breadth of their breeding-place."

"In the autumn of 1813," relates Audubon, "I left my house at Henderson, on the banks of the Ohio, on my way to Louisville. In passing over the Barrens, a few miles beyond Hardensburg, I observed the Pigeons flying from north-east to south-west in greater numbers than I had ever seen them before, and feeling an inclination to count the flocks that might pass within reach of my eye in one hour, I dismounted, seated myself on an eminence, and began to mark with my pencil, making a dot for every flock that passed. In a short time, finding the task that I had undertaken impracticable, as the birds poured on in countless multitudes, I rose, and counting the dots that had been put down, found that one hundred and sixty-three had been made in twenty-one minutes. I travelled on, and still met more the farther I proceeded. The air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse; the dung fell in spots, not unlike melting flakes of snow, and the continued buzz of wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose.

"While waiting for dinner at Young's Inn, at the confluence of Salt River with the Ohio, I saw at my leisure immense legions still going by, with a front reaching far beyond the Ohio on the west, and the beech-wood forests directly on the east of me. Not a single bird alighted; for not a nut or acorn was that year to be seen in the neighbourhood. They consequently flew so high that different trials to reach them with a rifle proved ineffectual, nor did the reports disturb them in the least. I cannot describe to you the extreme beauty of their aërial evolutions. When a Hawk chanced to press upon the rear of a flock, at once, like a torrent, and with a noise like thunder, they rushed into a compact mass, pressing upon each other towards the centre. In these almost solid masses they darted forward in undulating and angular lines, descended and swept close over the earth with inconceivable velocity, mounted perpendicularly, so as to resemble a vast column, and when high in the air were seen wheeling and twisting within their continued lines, which then resembled the coils of a gigantic serpent.

"Before sunset I reached Louisville, distant from Hardensburg fifty-five miles. The Pigeons were still passing in undiminished numbers, and continued to do so for three days in succession. The people were all in arms. The banks of the Ohio were crowded with men and boys, incessantly shooting at the pilgrims, which there flew lower as they passed the river. Multitudes were thus destroyed. For a week or more the population fed on no other flesh but Pigeons', and talked of nothing but Pigeons.

"It is extremely interesting to see flock after flock performing exactly the same evolutions which had been traced as it were in the air by a preceding flock. Thus, should a Hawk have charged on a group at a certain spot, the angles, curves, and undulations that have been described by the birds in their efforts to escape from the dreaded talons of the plunderer are undeviatingly followed by the next group that comes up. Should the bystander happen to witness one of these affrays, and, struck with the rapidity and elegance of the motions exhibited, feel desirous of seeing them repeated, his wishes will be gratified if he only remain in the place until the next group comes up.

"Perhaps it may not be amiss to make an estimate of the number of Pigeons contained in such a host, and of the amount of food consumed by them. Granting the procession to be a mile broad, which is certainly no exaggeration, and that at a given speed it travels for three hours, we obtain a parallelogram of eighteen square miles, English measure; this, reckoning only two pigeons to the square yard, would give 1,000,115,736,000 individuals in such a flight; and if each Pigeon required daily half a pint of food, the whole multitude would consume 8,712,000 bushels daily. Wilson makes a similar calculation, and arrives at the conclusion that one swarm contains more than 2,000,000,000,000 Pigeons, and requires daily 17,424,000 bushels of corn.

"As soon as the Pigeons discover a sufficiency of food to entice them to alight, they fly round in circles, reviewing the country below. During their evolutions on such occasions, the dense mass which they form exhibits a beautiful appearance as it changes its direction, now displaying a glistening sheet of azure, when the backs of the birds come simultaneously into view, and anon suddenly presenting a mass of rich deep purple. They then pass lower over the woods, and for a moment are lost among the foliage, but again emerge and are seen gliding aloft. They now alight, but the next moment, as if suddenly alarmed, take flight, producing by the flapping of their wings a noise like the roar of distant thunder, and sweep through the forests to see if danger is near. Hunger, however, soon brings them to the ground. When alighted, they are seen industriously throwing up the dead leaves in quest of the fallen mast. The rear ranks are continually rising, passing over the main body, and alighting in front in such rapid succession that the whole flock seems still on the wing. The quantity of ground thus swept is astonishing, and so completely has it been cleared that the gleaner who might follow in their rear would find his labour completely lost. Whilst feeding, their avidity is at times so great that, in attempting to swallow a large acorn or nut, they are seen gaping for a long while as if in the agonies of suffocation.

"On such occasions, when the woods are filled with these Pigeons, they are killed in immense numbers, although no apparent diminution ensues. About the middle of the day, after their repast is finished, they settle on the trees to enjoy rest and digest their food. On the ground they walk with ease, as well as on the branches, frequently jerking their beautiful tail, and moving the neck backwards and forwards in the most graceful manner. As the sun begins to sink beneath the horizon, they depart _en masse_ for the roosting-place, which not unfrequently is hundreds of miles distant, as has been ascertained by persons who have kept an account of their arrival and departure.

"Let us now, kind reader," continues Audubon, "inspect their place of nightly rendezvous. One of these curious places, on the banks of the Green River, in Kentucky, I repeatedly visited. It was, as is always the case, in a portion of the forest where the trees were of great magnitude, and where there is little underwood. I rode through it upwards of forty miles, and, crossing it in different parts, found its average breadth to be more than three miles. My first view of it was about a fortnight subsequent to the period when they had made choice of it, and I arrived there nearly two hours before sunset. Few Pigeons were then to be seen, but a great number of persons, with horses and wagons, guns and ammunition, had already established encampments on the borders. Two farmers from the vicinity of Russelsville, distant more than a hundred miles, had driven upwards of three hundred hogs to be fattened on the Pigeons which were to be slaughtered. Here and there the people employed in plucking and salting what had already been procured were seen sitting in the midst of large piles of these birds. The dung lay several inches deep, covering the whole extent of the roosting-place. Many trees, two feet in diameter, I observed were broken off at a great distance from the ground, and the branches of many of the largest and tallest had given way, as if the forest had been swept by a tornado. Everything proved to me that the number of birds resorting to this part of the forest must be immense, beyond conception. As the period of their arrival approached, their foes anxiously prepared to receive them. Some were furnished with iron pots, containing sulphur, others with torches of pine-knots, many with poles, and the rest with guns. The sun was lost to our view, yet not a Pigeon had arrived. Everything was ready, and all eyes were gazing on the clear sky which appeared in glimpses amidst the tall trees. Suddenly there burst forth a general cry of 'Here they come!' The noise which they made, though yet distant, reminded me of a hard gale at sea, passing through the rigging of a close-reefed vessel. As the birds arrived and passed over me, I felt a current of air that surprised me. Thousands were knocked down by the pole-men. The birds continued to pour in. The fires were lighted, and a magnificent, as well as wonderful and almost terrifying sight presented itself. The Pigeons, arriving by thousands, alighted everywhere one above the other, until solid masses were formed on the branches all round. Here and there the perches gave way under the weight with a crash, and, falling to the ground, destroyed hundreds of birds beneath, forcing down the dense groups with which every stick was loaded. It was a scene of uproar and confusion. I found it quite useless to speak, or even to shout to those persons who were nearest to me. Even the reports of the guns were seldom heard, and I was made aware of the firing only by seeing the shooters re-loading. No one dared to venture within the line of devastation. The hogs had been penned up in due time, the picking up of the dead and wounded being left for the next morning's employment. The Pigeons were constantly coming, and it was past midnight before I perceived a decrease in the number of those that arrived. The uproar continued the whole night, and, as I was anxious to know to what distance the sound reached, I sent off a man accustomed to perambulate the forest, who, returning two hours afterwards, informed me he had heard it distinctly when three miles distant from the spot. Towards the approach of day the noise in some measure subsided; long before objects were distinguishable the Pigeons began to move off in a direction quite different from that in which they had arrived the evening before, and, at sunrise, all that were able to fly had disappeared. The howling of the wolves now reached our ears, and the foxes, lynxes, cougars, bears, racoons, opossums, and polecats were seen sneaking off, while Eagles and Hawks of different species, accompanied by a crowd of Vultures, came to supplant them, and enjoy their share of the spoil.

"It was then that the authors of this devastation began their entry among the dead, the dying, and the mangled. The Pigeons were picked up and piled in heaps, until each had as many as he could possibly dispose of, when the hogs were let loose to feed on the remainder."

Precisely the same slaughter takes place in the nesting-places of the Passenger Pigeon, and Audubon goes on to describe these localities in the following manner:--

"The breeding of the Wild Pigeons, and the places chosen for that purpose, are points of great interest. The time is not much influenced by season, and the place selected is where food is most plentiful and most attainable, and always at a convenient distance from water. Forest trees of great height are those in which the Pigeons form their nests. Thither the countless myriads resort, and prepare to fulfil one of the great laws of nature. At this period the note of the Pigeon is a soft 'coo-coo-coo-coo,' much shorter than that of the domestic species. The common notes resemble the monosyllables 'kee-kee-kee-kee,' the first being the loudest, the others gradually diminishing in power. The male assumes a pompous demeanour, and follows the female, whether on the ground or on the branches, with spread tail and drooping wings. The body is elevated, the throat swells, the eyes sparkle. He continues his note, and now and then rises on the wing, and then flies a few yards to approach the fugitive and timorous female. Like the Domestic Pigeon and other species, they caress each other by billing, in which action the bill of one is introduced transversely into that of the other, and both parties alternately disgorge the contents of their crops by repeated efforts. These preliminary affairs are soon settled, and the Pigeons commence their nests in peace and harmony. They are composed of a few dry twigs, crossing each other, and are supported by forks of the branches. On the same tree from fifty to one hundred nests may frequently be seen; I might say a greater number, were I not anxious that, however wonderful my account of the Wild Pigeon is, you may not feel disposed to refer it to the marvellous. The eggs are two in number, of a broadly elliptical form, and pure white. During incubation the male supplies the female with food. Indeed, the tenderness and affection displayed by these birds towards their mates, are in the highest degree striking. It is a remarkable fact that each brood generally consists of a male and a female. The young are fed by the parents in the manner described above; in other words, the old bird introduces its bill into the mouth of the young one in a transverse manner, or with the back of each mandible opposite the separations of the mandibles of the young bird, and disgorges the contents of its crop. As soon as the young birds are able to shift for themselves they leave their parents, and continue separate until they attain maturity; by the end of six months they are capable of reproducing their species.

"Here, again, the tyrant of creation, man, interferes, disturbing the harmony of this peaceful scene. As the young birds grow up, their enemies, armed with axes, reach the spot, to seize and destroy all they can. The trees are felled and made to fall in such a way that the cutting of one causes the overthrow of another, or shakes the neighbouring trees so much that the young Pigeons or Squabs, as they are named, are violently hurled to the ground. In this manner also immense quantities are destroyed."

Wilson thus describes the breeding-places in detail:--"When the Passenger Pigeons have frequented one of these places for some time, the appearance it exhibits is surprising. The ground is covered to the depth of several inches with their dung; all the tender grass and underwood destroyed; the surface strewed with large limbs of trees broken down by the weight of the birds clustering one above another; and the trees themselves, for thousands of acres, killed as completely as if girdled with an axe. The marks of this desolation remain for years on the spot, and numerous places could be pointed out where, for several years after, scarcely a single vegetable made its appearance. By the Indians such a breeding-place is considered an important source of national profit and supply during the season, and all their active ingenuity is exercised on the occasion.