The Fan-tailed Pigeon is remarkable for its tail, which is very large, and raised like that of the Peacock, and for the convulsive trembling which agitates it, especially at breeding-time. It thrives badly in an aviary, and is little valued, except as an object of curiosity.
There are two species of Doves—the Turtle Dove (Turtur communis, Linn.) and the Ring Dove (Turtur risorius, Selby). The former is the smallest species of the family of Colombidæ. They are found throughout Europe, but are more abundant in the south than the north. They arrive in France in spring, and depart for warmer countries at the end of summer. They build their nests in large trees in the shady and most retired parts of woods. They feed on seeds and berries. After harvest they visit stubbles of wheat or other grain; the abundant nourishment which they there find makes their flesh extremely delicate and nutritious. Although naturally wild, the Turtle Dove is easily tamed when taken young, when it evinces great attachment.
The Ring Dove is indigenous to Africa, where it lives in a state of freedom. This is the species which, in Europe, is raised in cages and aviaries. In certain towns of Egypt, particularly Alexandria and Cairo, they are so tame that they walk in the streets, and even enter houses, fearless of the presence of occupants. They are prolific, for they lay every month, except during the moulting season. Their cooing somewhat resembles a laugh—hence the name of Laughing Dove which has been given them. The ancients made the Turtle Dove an emblem of tenderness. This honour is justified by the kind attention which the male shows the female, especially during the period of incubation.
The Passenger Pigeon ([Fig. 183]) is the Columba migratoria of many authors: it inhabits North America. They are remarkable for the strength and rapidity of their flight, and for the migrations which they accomplish.
The American naturalist, Audubon, says, "Pigeons have been killed in the neighbourhood of New York, having their crops still full of rice, which they could not have taken nearer than the fields of Georgia and Carolina—six or seven hundred miles distant. As their digestion is sufficiently rapid to entirely decompose grain in the space of twelve hours, it follows that they must have travelled the above space at the rate of a mile a minute. One of these birds, if able to keep up this velocity, could visit the European continent in less than three days."
Fig. 183.—Passenger Pigeons (Ectopistes migratoria, Sw.).
It is not for the purpose of seeking a warmer climate that they undertake their journeys, but to procure food when the acorns become scarce in the woods which they inhabit. Their migrations, consequently, are irregular as to date. Looking at the innumerable and closely-packed masses of Passenger Pigeons which take part in these voyages confuses the mind. Audubon one day endeavoured to count the flocks which passed above him in one hour. He counted a hundred and sixty-three in twenty minutes, but he was soon obliged to give up, the flights succeeded each other so rapidly. He says: "The more I advanced, the more Pigeons I met. The air was literally filled with them. The daylight, in full mid-day, was obscured as by an eclipse; the dung fell like flakes in a fall of snow; the buzzing of their wings stunned me, and gave me a sleepy sensation." These Pigeons are endowed with very strong sight. When flying at a considerable height they can perfectly distinguish the places which will furnish them with the means of subsistence. Having found a suitable country, they alight upon an immense space of ground, and in a few minutes completely ravage it. Large quantities of them can then be destroyed without any apparent diminution in their number. Some hours after their descent they again take to flight, and regain their nocturnal domicile, frequently twenty or thirty miles distant, where a frightful slaughter is often made amongst them. Long before the sun sets the inhabitants of surrounding counties await them with horses, carts, guns, and ammunition. Some even bring flocks of pigs, to fatten on the flesh of the Pigeons which the destroyers are unable to carry away. Audubon, who assisted at one of these slaughters, has related it as follows. He says:—"Every one holds himself in readiness, with eyes directed towards the heavens. Suddenly a general cry of 'They come!' resounds. The noise which they made, although at a distance, reminded me of a strong sea-breeze amongst the cordage of a ship, the sails of which are furled. When they passed above my head I felt a current of air which astonished me. Thousands were already struck down by men armed with poles, but they continued to arrive without intermission. Fires were lit, and it was then a fantastic sight full of frightful magnificence. The birds precipitated themselves in masses, and pitched where they could, one upon the other, in large heaps like barrels. Then the branches gave way under the weight, cracked and fell, bringing to the ground and crushing the closely-packed flocks which covered every part of the trees. It was a lamentable scene of tumult and confusion. In vain I tried to speak, or even to call the persons nearest to me. It was with difficulty that I could hear the guns fire, and I only perceived they had fired by seeing them reload their arms. Pigeons continued to come, and it was past midnight before I noticed any diminution in the number of the arrivals. The uproar continued all night. At last the day approached, the noise began to abate a little, and, long before we could distinguish objects, the Pigeons commenced to start in quite an opposite direction to that in which they had come in the evening. At sunrise all that were capable of flying had disappeared. Now it was the Wolves' turn, the howls of which saluted our ears. Foxes, Lynxes, Cougars, Bears, Rats, Opossums, and Martins, bounding, running, climbing, pressed to the quarry, whilst Eagles and Falcons of different species flew down from the air to take their part of such rich booty. The sportsmen then, in their turn, entered into the midst of the dead, the dying, and the wounded. The Pigeons were piled in heaps, each took what he wished, and the Pigs were left to satiate themselves on the remainder."
These massacres are in nowise injurious to the existence of this species. In short, according to Audubon, the number of these Pigeons becomes doubled or quadrupled in a single year.