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.
"Not far from Shelbyville, in the State of Kentucky, there was one of
these breeding-places, which stretching through the woods in nearly a
north and south direction, was several miles in breadth, and was said
to be upwards of forty miles in extent. In this tract almost every tree
was furnished with nests, wherever the branches could accommodate them.
The Pigeons made their first appearance there about the tenth of April,
and left it altogether with their young before the twenty-fifth of May.
As soon as the young were fully grown, and before they left the nests,
numerous parties of the inhabitants from all parts of the adjacent
country came with wagons, axes, beds, and cooking utensils, many of them
accompanied by the greater part of their families, and encamped for
several days at this immense nursery. Several of them informed me that the
noise in the woods was so great as to terrify their horses, and that it
was difficult for one person to make another hear without bawling in his
ear. The ground was strewed with broken limbs of trees, eggs, and young
Squab Pigeons, which had been precipitated from above, and on which herds
of hogs were fattening. Hawks, Buzzards, and Eagles were sailing about in
great numbers, and seizing the Squabs from their nests at pleasure; while,
from twenty feet upwards to the tops of the trees, the view through the
woods presented a perpetual tumult of fluttering and crowding Pigeons,
their wings roaring like thunder, mingled with the frequent crash of
falling timber, for now the axe-men were at work, cutting down those trees
that seemed to be most crowded with nests."
Persons unacquainted with these birds might naturally conclude that such
dreadful havoc might soon put an end to the species, "but I have satisfied
myself," remarks Audubon, "by long observation, that nothing but the
gradual diminution of our forests can accomplish their decrease." In 1805
there came into New York schooners laden in bulk with Pigeons caught up
the Hudson River, which were sold for a cent apiece. A man in Pennsylvania
caught in a clap-net in one day, upwards of five hundred dozens, sweeping
sometimes twenty dozen or more at a single haul; and in the month of
March, 1830, they were so abundant in the markets of New York that piles
of them met the eye in every direction.
* * * * *
The TURTLE DOVES (_Turtures_) constitute a very numerous section, whose
members are all recognisable by their slender body, small head, long wings
and tail, and the comparative length of their feet, which enables them to
walk over the surface of the ground. The plumage is usually of a reddish
hue, and in most species adorned by a broad line around the throat. This
band is either black or spotted black and white.
The various members of this group inhabit almost every portion of the
globe, Asia and Africa being particularly rich in species. In their
habits they resemble other Pigeons, but are readily distinguished from
them by the peculiarities of their flight and cry. The Turtle Doves are
of a social disposition, and frequently assemble in large flocks, which
fly over large tracts of the surrounding country, after the manner of
the Passenger Pigeons of North America, described above. Brushwood or
groves of low trees are the situations which they principally frequent,
though many species also occupy the moist depths of primeval forests,
and evidently prefer such localities as are in the immediate vicinity of
water. The carelessly-constructed nest is usually placed in low brushwood,
at but a little distance from the ground.