tame"
as they have been sometimes represented. That is their character only
while young at the breeding-places, or at the great roosts when confused
by crowding upon each other, and mystified by torch-light.

Far different are they when wandering through the open woods in search
of food. It is then both difficult to approach and hard to kill them.
Odd birds you may easily reach; you may see them perched upon the
branches on all sides of you, and within shot-range; but the _thick_ of
the flock, somehow or other, always keeps from one to two hundred yards
off. The sportsman cannot bring himself to fire at single birds. No.
There is a tree near at hand literally black with pigeons. Its branches
creak under the weight. What a fine havoc he will make if he can but
get near enough! But that is the difficulty; there is no cover, and he
must approach as he best can without it. He continues to advance; the
birds sit silent, watching his movements. He treads lightly and with
caution; he inwardly anathematises the dead leaves and twigs that make a
loud rustling under his feet. The birds appear restless; several
stretch out their necks as if to spring off.

At length he deems himself fairly within range, and raises his gun to
take aim; but this is a signal for the shy game, and before he can draw
trigger they are off to another tree!

Some stragglers still remain; and at them he levels his piece and fires.
The shot is a random one; for our sportsman, having failed to "cover"
the flock, has become irritated and careless, and in all such cases the
pigeons fly off with the loss of a few feathers.

The gun is reloaded, and our amateur hunter, seeing the thick flock upon
another tree, again endeavours to approach it, but with like success.

CHAPTER FIVE.

HUNT WITH A HOWITZER.

When the conversation about the haunts and habits of these birds began
to flag, some one called for a "pigeon story." Who could tell a pigeon
story? To our surprise the doctor volunteered one, and all gathered
around to listen.

"Yes, gentlemen," began the doctor, "I have a pigeon adventure, which
occurred to me some years ago. I was then living in Cincinnati,
following my respectable calling, when I had the good fortune to set a
broken leg for one Colonel P--, a wealthy planter, who lived upon the
bank of the river some sixty miles from the city. I made a handsome set
of if, and won the colonel's friendship for ever. Shortly after, I