"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."