The island pirate, a tale of the Mississippi

by Mayne Reid

THE PERILS OF PIGEON-SHOOTING.

I do not purpose to give a description of pigeon-shooting, as practiced in the backwoods of the West; though the sport has its peculiarities, some of which may be worth mentioning. It is not such a slaughter as has been represented, and the vast flocks—or "clouds," as the negro had called them—would lead one to conclude. This is true enough of the breeding-roosts, where the birds, inspired by the passion of love, or acting under the instincts of generation, appear to lose all sense of fear or self-preservation.

Elsewhere, and at other times, they become sufficiently shy; and though the gunner may always get within range of a single bird, or two or three, seated upon a branch, it requires both cover and careful stalking to obtain one of those wholesale shots poured into the thick of the flock and counting its score of victims. Almost invariably, when you are just upon the edge of shot-range, some old bird, wary from the last year's experience, gives the cue to the flock, that with a loud clapping of wings flits off to some other resting-place, a hundred yards further on through the woods.

The whole "gang," however, does not obey this signal of safety. Solitary birds here and there, in twos, threes, or half-a-dozen, remain irresolute upon the branches; and if you are contented to take aim at these, you may keep loading and firing, almost continuously.

For this reason they are not always pursued by shot-guns, some sportsmen preferring the rifle, these often showing the largest bag when the sport is over. They are sure of a bird to each shot, and as there are always some within range, there is no time wasted in idly following the flock.

It was so with a party whom we found on the ridge, young planters and others, who had preceded us there, having got word sooner than we, of the arrival of the pigeons. Some carried shot-guns, others were provided with the rifle. Among those provided with the latter, was Nat Bradley; who, as is usual with planters in riding about, had brought his gun along with him. I myself was armed with the same kind of weapon.

As in all cover-shooting, there is some danger in this sport, especially when the party is a large one; and at a season before the leaves have fallen from the trees. Each sportsman pursues his own course, without thinking of others; and, as the birds may be either upon the ground, the wing, or perched upon the lowermost branches, guns are not always pointed to the sky. With shot flying about, and now and then the bullet of a rifle, one might be excused for feeling a little nervous.

The sport was new to me, and I did not think of this danger, until the "z-zip" of a bullet passing close to my ear, admonished me that pigeon-shooting might prove any thing but a safe pastime.

So close had the thing come, that I felt the current of air sweeping across my cheek, and turning suddenly to the tree behind me, saw the fresh score where the ball had buried itself in the bark. At the same instant I heard the "spang" of the piece that had discharged it.

My first impulse was to proceed toward the incautious sportsman, and reproach him for his carelessness. I could not tell who it was. Some low pawpaws lay between, upon one of which I supposed the pigeon had perched, which had tempted the incautious shot.