st one is
the line upon which the birds migrate.

In Canada their numbers are so great, and the ravages which they
commit upon the cultivated ground so extensive, that instances are
recorded in which the bishop has been seriously and earnestly implored
to exorcise them "by bell, book, and candle"--to cast them out of the
land by the same means used in days of yore against spirits
troublesome to other individuals, men and women. But as the Passengers
were material and not spiritual, the bishop had the good sense not to
try the experiment upon them. At least, La Houton, who records the
matter, is perfectly silent as to the success or failure of the
proposition.

Both sexes are beautiful birds; but their value, in an economical
point of view, is not, however, in any way equal to their numbers or
their beauty. The flesh of the old ones is dark, dry, hard and
unpalatable, as is very generally the case with birds which are much
on the wing; but the young, or _squabs_, as they are called, are
remarkably fat; and as in the places where the birds congregate, they
may be obtained without much difficulty, this fat is obtained by
melting them, and is used instead of lard. As they nestle in vast
multitudes at the same place, their resting-places have many
attractions for the birds of prey, which indiscriminately seize upon
both the old and the young. The eggs, like those of most of the
pigeon tribe, are usually two in number; but the number of birds at
one nesting-place is so great that the young, when they begin to
branch and feed, literally drive along the woods like a torrent. They
feed upon the fruits which at this time they procure at the middle
heights of the forests, and do not venture upon the open grounds. The
nests are far more closely packed together than in any rookery, and
are built one above another, from the height of twenty feet to the top
of the tallest trees.

Wilson says that 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, cooking
utensils, many of them accompanied by the greater part of their
families, and encamped for several days at this immense nursery, near
Shelbyville, Kentucky, forty miles long, and several miles in breadth.
The noise in the woods was so great as to terrify their horses, and it
was difficult for one person to hear another speak without bawling in
his ear. The