<p class="caption2"><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</SPAN></p>
<p class="caption2">The Passenger Pigeon</p>
<p class="caption3">From "Life Histories of North American Birds,"<SPAN name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></SPAN>
<SPAN href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</SPAN></p>
<p class="caption3">by Charles Bendire</p>
<div class="footnote pmb2">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></SPAN>
<SPAN href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></SPAN> The first volume of Captain Bendire's monumental work was published
in 1892, by which time the extinction of the Passenger Pigeon was
foretold as a matter of a few more years. His contribution to the subject
therefore deals with a much later period in the history of the bird and links
the studies of Wilson and Audubon with the present day.</p>
</div>
<div class="dropcap">G</div>
<p class="p0"><span class="hidden">G</span>EOGRAPHICAL Range: Deciduous forest
regions of eastern North America; west, casually,
to Washington and Nevada; Cuba.</p>
<p>The breeding range of the Passenger Pigeon to-day
is to be looked for principally in the thinly settled and
wooded region along our northern border, from northern
Maine westward to northern Minnesota; in the
Dakotas, as well as in similar localities in the eastern
and middle portions of the Dominion of Canada, and
north at least to Hudson's Bay. Isolated and scattering
pairs probably still breed in the New England States,
northern New York, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin,
Minnesota, and a few other localities further
south, but the enormous breeding colonies, or pigeon
roosts, as they were formerly called, frequently covering
the forest for miles, and so often mentioned by naturalists
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</SPAN></span>
and hunters in former years, are, like the immense
herds of the American bison which roamed over the
great plains of the West in countless thousands but a
couple of decades ago, things of the past, probably
never to be seen again.</p>
<p>In fact, the extermination of the Passenger Pigeon
has progressed so rapidly during the past twenty years
that it looks now as if their total extermination might
be accomplished within the present century. The only
thing which retards their complete extinction is that it
no longer pays to net these birds, they being too scarce
for this now, at least in the more settled portions of the
country, and also, perhaps, that from constant and unremitting
persecution on their breeding grounds they
have changed their habits somewhat, the majority no
longer breeding in colonies, but scattering over the
country and breeding in isolated pairs.</p>
<p>Mr. William Brewster, in his article "On the Present
Status of the Wild Pigeon," etc., writes as follows: "In
the spring of 1888 my friend, Captain Bendire, wrote
me that he had received news from a correspondent in
central Michigan to the effect that wild pigeons had
arrived there in great numbers and were preparing to
nest. Acting on this information, I started at once, in
company with Mr. Jonathan Dwight, Jr., to visit the
expected 'nesting' and learn as much as possible about
the habits of the breeding birds, as well as to secure
specimens of their skins and eggs.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"On reaching Cadillac, Michigan, May 8, we found
that large flocks of pigeons had passed there late in
April, while there were reports of similar flights from
almost every county in the southern part of the State.
Although most of the birds had passed on before our
arrival, the professional pigeon netters, confident that
they would finally breed somewhere in the southern peninsula,
were busily engaged getting their nets and other
apparatus in order for an extensive campaign against
the poor birds.</p>
<p>"We were assured that as soon as the breeding
colony became established the fact would be known all
over the State, and there would be no difficulty in ascertaining
its precise location. Accordingly, we waited
at Cadillac about two weeks, during which time we were
in correspondence with netters in different parts of the
region. No news came, however, and one by one the
netters lost heart, until finally most of them agreed that
the pigeons had gone to the far north, beyond the reach
of mail and telegraphic communication. As a last hope,
we went, on May 15, to Oden, in the northern part of
the southern peninsula, about twenty miles south of the
Straits of Mackinac. Here we found that there had
been, as elsewhere in Michigan, a heavy flight of birds
in the latter part of April, but that all had passed on.
Thus our trip proved a failure as far as actually seeing
a pigeon 'nesting' was concerned; but partly by observation,
partly by talking with the netters, farmers, sportsmen,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</SPAN></span>
and lumbermen, we obtained much information
regarding the flight of 1888, and the larger nestings
that have occurred in Michigan within the past decade,
as well as many interesting details, some of which appear
to be new about the habits of the birds.</p>
<p>"Our principal informant was Mr. S. S. Stevens, of
Cadillac, a veteran pigeon netter of large experience,
and, as we were assured by everyone whom we asked
concerning him, a man of high reputation for veracity
and carefulness of statement. His testimony was as
follows: 'Pigeons appeared that year in numbers near
Cadillac, about the 20th of April. He saw fully sixty
in one day, scattered about in beech woods near the
head of Clam Lake, and on another occasion about one
hundred drinking at the mouth of the brook, while a
flock that covered at least 8 acres was observed by a
friend, a perfectly reliable man, flying in a north-easterly
direction. Many other smaller flocks were reported."</p>
<p>"The last nesting of any importance in Michigan was
in 1881, a few miles west of Grand Traverse. It was
only of moderate size, perhaps 8 miles long. Subsequently,
in 1886, Mr. Stevens found about fifty dozen
pairs nesting in a swamp near Lake City. He does
not doubt that similar small colonies occur every year,
besides scattered pairs. In fact, he sees a few pigeons
about Cadillac every summer, and in the early autumn
young birds, barely able to fly, are often met with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</SPAN></span>
singly or in small parties in the woods. Such stragglers
attract little attention, and no one attempts to net them,
although many are shot.</p>
<p>"The largest nesting he ever visited was in 1876 or
1877. It began near Petoskey, and extended northeast
past Crooked Lake for 28 miles, averaging 3 or 4 miles
wide. The birds arrived in two separate bodies, one
directly from the south by land, the other following
the east coast of Wisconsin, and crossing at Manitou
Island. He saw the latter body come in from the lake
at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. It was a compact
mass of pigeons, at least 5 miles long by 1 mile wide.
The birds began building when the snow was 12 inches
deep in the woods, although the fields were bare at the
time. So rapidly did the colony extend its boundaries
that it soon passed literally over and around the place
where he was netting, although when he began, this
point was several miles from the nearest nest. Nestings
usually start in deciduous woods, but during their progress
the pigeons do not skip any kind of trees they
encounter. The Petoskey nesting extended 8 miles
through hardwood timber, then crossed a river bottom
wooded with arborvitæ, and thence stretched through
white pine woods about 20 miles. For the entire distance
of 28 miles every tree of any size had more or
less nests, and many trees were filled with them. None
were lower than about 15 feet above the ground.</p>
<p>"Pigeons are very noisy when building. They make
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</SPAN></span>
a sound resembling the croaking of wood frogs. Their
combined clamor can be heard 4 or 5 miles away when
the atmospheric conditions are favorable. Two eggs
are usually laid, but many nests contain only one. Both
birds incubate, the females between 2 o'clock <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> and
9 o'clock or 10 o'clock the next morning; the males
from 9 or 10 o'clock <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> to 2 o'clock <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> The
males feed twice each day, namely, from daylight to
about 8 o'clock <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> and again late in the afternoon.
The females feed only during the forenoon. The
change is made with great regularity as to time, all the
males being on the nest by 10 o'clock <span class="smcap">A.M.</span></p>
<p>"During the morning and evening no females are
ever caught by the netters; during the forenoon no
males. The sitting bird does not leave the nest until
the bill of its incoming mate nearly touches its tail,
the former slipping off as the latter takes it place.</p>
<p>"Thus the eggs are constantly covered, and but few
are ever thrown out despite the fragile character of the
nests and the swaying of the trees in the high winds.
The old birds never feed in or near the nesting, leaving
all the beech mast, etc., there for their young. Many
of them go 100 miles each day for food. Mr. Stevens
is satisfied that pigeons continue laying and hatching
during the entire summer. They do not, however, use
the same nesting place a second time in one season, the
entire colony always moving from 20 to 100 miles after
the appearance of each brood of young. Mr. Stevens,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</SPAN></span>
as well as many of the other netters with whom we
talked, believes that they breed during their absence
in the South in the winter, asserting as proof of this
that young birds in considerable numbers often accompany
the earlier spring flights.</p>
<p>"Five weeks are consumed by a single nesting. Then
the young are forced out of their nests by the old
birds. Mr. Stevens has twice seen this done. One
of the pigeons, usually the male, pushes the young off
the nest by force. The latter struggles and squeals precisely
like a tame squab, but is finally crowded out along
the branch, and after further feeble resistance flutters
down to the ground. Three or four days elapse before
it is able to fly well. Upon leaving the nest it is often
fatter and heavier than the old birds; but it quickly
becomes much thinner and lighter, despite the enormous
quantity of food it consumes.</p>
<p>"On one occasion an immense flock of young birds
became bewildered in a fog while crossing Crooked
Lake, and descending struck the water and perished by
thousands. The shore for miles was covered a foot
or more deep with them. The old birds rose above the
fog, and none were killed.</p>
<p>"At least five hundred men were engaged in netting
pigeons during the great Petoskey nesting of 1881. Mr.
Stevens thought that they may have captured on the
average 20,000 birds apiece during the season. Sometimes
two carloads were shipped south on the railroad
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</SPAN></span>
each day. Nevertheless he believed that not one bird
in a thousand was taken. Hawks and owls often
abound near the nesting. Owls can be heard hooting
there all night long. The cooper's hawk often catches
the stool-pigeon. During the Petoskey season Mr.
Stevens lost twelve stool birds in this way.</p>
<p>"There has been much dispute among writers and
observers, beginning with Audubon and Wilson, and
extending down to the present day, as to whether the
wild pigeon has two eggs or one. I questioned Mr.
Stevens closely on this point. He assured me that he
had frequently found two eggs or two young in the
same nest, but that fully half the nests which he had
examined contained only one.</p>
<p>"Our personal experience with the pigeon in Michigan
was as follows:</p>
<p>"During our stay at Cadillac we saw them daily,
sometimes singly, usually in pairs, never more than two
together. Nearly every large tract of old growth
mixed woods seemed to contain at least one pair. They
appeared to be settled for the season, and we were
convinced that they were preparing to breed. In fact,
the oviduct of a female, killed May 10, contained an
egg nearly ready for the shell.</p>
<p>"At Oden we had a similar experience, although there
were perhaps fewer pigeons there than about Cadillac.</p>
<p>"On May 24, Mr. Dwight settled any possible question
as to their breeding in scattered pairs, by finding
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</SPAN></span>
a nest on which he distinctly saw a bird sitting. The
following day I accompanied him to this nest, which
was at least 50 feet above the ground, on the horizontal
branch of a large hemlock, about 20 feet out from the
trunk. As we approached the spot an adult male
pigeon started from a tree near that on which the nest
was placed, and a moment later a young bird, with
stub tail and barely able to fly, fluttered feebly after
it. This young pigeon was probably the bird seen the
previous day on the nest, for on climbing to the latter,
Mr. Dwight found it empty, but fouled with excrement,
some of which was perfectly fresh. A thorough investigation
of the surrounding woods, which were a hundred
acres or more in extent, and composed chiefly of
beeches, with a mixture of white pines and hemlocks
of the largest size, convinced us that no other pigeons
were nesting in them.</p>
<p>"All the netters with whom we talked believe firmly
that there are just as many pigeons in the West as there
ever were. They say the birds have been driven from
Michigan and the adjoining States, partly by persecution,
and partly by the destruction of the forests, and
have retreated to uninhabited regions, perhaps north
of the Great Lakes in British North America. Doubtless
there is some truth in this theory; for, that the
pigeon is not, as has been asserted so often recently,
on the verge of extinction, is shown by the flight which
passed through Michigan in the Spring of 1888. This
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</SPAN></span>
flight, according to the testimony of many reliable observers,
was a large one, and the birds must have
formed a nesting of considerable extent in some region
so remote that no news of its presence reached the ears
of the vigilant netters. Thus it is probable that enough
Pigeons are left to restock the West, provided that laws
sufficiently stringent to give them fair protection be at
once enacted. The present laws of Michigan and Wisconsin
are simply worse than useless, for, while they
prohibit disturbing the birds <i>within</i> the nesting, they
allow unlimited netting only a few miles beyond its outskirts
<i>during the entire breeding season</i>. The theory
is, that they are so infinitely numerous that their ranks
are not seriously thinned by catching a few millions of
breeding birds in a summer, and that the only danger
to be guarded against is that of frightening them away
by the use of guns or nets in the woods where their
nests are placed. The absurdity of such reasoning is
self-evident, but, singularly enough, the netters, many
of whom struck me as intelligent and honest men, seem
really to believe in it. As they have more or less local
influence, and, in addition, the powerful backing of the
large game dealers in the cities, it is not likely that any
really effectual laws can be passed until the last of our
Passenger Pigeons are preparing to follow the great
auk and the American bison."</p>
<p>In order to show a little more clearly the immense
destruction of the Passenger Pigeon <i>in a single year</i>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</SPAN></span>
<i>and at one roost</i> only, I quote the following extract
from an interesting article "On the Habits, Methods of
Capture, and Nesting of the Wild Pigeon," with an
account of the Michigan nesting of 1878, by Prof. H. B.
Roney, in the Chicago <i>Field</i> (Vol. X, pp. 345-347):</p>
<p>"The nesting area, situated near Petoskey, covered
something like 100,000 acres of land, and included not
less than 150,000 acres within its limits, being in length
about 40 miles by 3 to 10 in width. The number of
dead birds sent by rail was estimated at 12,500 daily,
or 1,500,000 for the summer, besides 80,352 live birds;
an equal number was sent by water. We have," says
the writer, "adding the thousands of dead and wounded
ones not secured, and the myriads of squabs left dead
in the nest, at the lowest possible estimate, a grand
total of one billion pigeons sacrificed to Mammon
during the nesting of 1878."</p>
<p>The last mentioned figure is undoubtedly far above
the actual number killed during that or any other year,
but even granting that but a million were killed at this
roost, the slaughter is enormous enough, and it is not
strange that the number of these pigeons are now few,
compared with former years.</p>
<p>Capt. B. F. Goss, of Peewaukee, Wisconsin, writes
me: "Ten years ago the wild pigeon bred in great
roosts in the northern parts of Wisconsin, and it also
bred singly in this vicinity; up to six or eight years ago
they were plenty. The nest was a small, rough platform
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</SPAN></span>
of twigs, from 10 to 15 feet from the ground. I
have often found two eggs in a nest, but one is by far
the more common. These single nests have been
thought by some accidental, but for years they bred in
this manner all over the county, as plentifully as any of
our birds. I also found them breeding singly in Iowa.
These single nests have not attracted attention like the
great roosts, but I think it is a common manner of building
with this species."</p>
<p>Mr. Frank J. Thompson, in charge of the Zoölogical
Gardens at Cincinnati, Ohio, gives the following
account of the breeding of the wild pigeon in confinement:
"During the spring of 1877, the society purchased
three pairs of trapped birds, which were placed
in one of the outer aviaries. Early in March, 1878,
I noticed that they were mating, and procuring some
twigs, I wove three rough platforms, and fastened them
up in convenient places, at the same time throwing a
further supply of building material on the floor.
Within twenty-four hours two of the platforms were
selected; the male carrying the material, whilst the
female busied herself in placing it. A single egg was
soon laid in each nest and incubation commenced. On
March 16, there was quite a heavy fall of snow, and on
the next morning I was unable to see the birds on their
nests on account of the accumulation of the snow piled
on the platforms around them. Within a couple of
days it had all disappeared, and for the next four or
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</SPAN></span>
five nights a self-registering thermometer, hanging in
the aviary, marked from 14° to 10°. In spite of these
drawbacks both of the eggs were hatched and the young
ones reared. They have since continued to breed regularly,
and now I have twenty birds, having lost several
eggs from falling through their illy-contrived nests
and one old male."</p>
<p>The Passenger Pigeon has been found nesting in
Wisconsin and Iowa during the first week in April,
and as late as June 5 and 12 in Connecticut and Minnesota.
Their food consists of beech nuts, acorns, wild
cherries, and berries of various kinds, as well as different
kinds of grain. They are said to be very fond of, and
feed extensively on, angle worms, vast numbers of
which frequently come to the surface after heavy rains,
also on hairless caterpillars.</p>
<p>Their movements, at all seasons, seem to be very
irregular, and are greatly affected by the food supply.
They may be exceedingly common at one point one
year, and almost entirely wanting the next. They generally
winter south of latitude 36°.</p>
<p>Their notes during the mating season are said to be
a short "coo-coo," and the ordinary call note is a "kee-kee-kee,"
the first syllable being louder and the last
fainter than the middle one.</p>
<p>Opinions differ as to the number of broods in a season;
while the majority of observers assert that but one,
a few others say that two, are usually raised. The eggs
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</SPAN></span>
vary in number from one to two in a set, and incubation
lasts from eighteen to twenty days, both sexes assisting.
These eggs are pure white in color, slightly glossy, and
usually elliptical oval in shape; some may be called
broad elliptical oval.</p>
<p>The average measurements of twenty specimens in
the U. S. National Museum collection is 37.5 by 26.5
millimetres. The largest egg measures 39.5 by 28.5,
the smallest 33.5 by 26 millimetres.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />