theory, although it must be confessed that a period of five or six years
intervened between the departure of my bird and the occurrence of
this instance of fearless tameness.'
The following, too, occurs in 'Jesse's Scenes and Tales of Country
Life:'—'Every sportsman knows that the Common Wood Pigeon (the
Ring Dove) is one of the shyest birds we have, and so wild that it
is very difficult indeed to get within shot of one. This wild bird
has however been known to lay aside its usual habits. In the spring
of 1839, some village boys brought two young Wood Pigeons, taken
from the nest, to the parsonage house of a clergyman in Gloucestershire,
from whom I received the following anecdote:—' They were
bought from the boys merely to 6 a v e their lives, and sent to an
old woman near the parsonage to be bred up. She took great care
of them, feeding them with peas, of which they are very fond. One
of them died, but the other grew up and was a fine bird. Its wings
had not been cut, and as soon as it could fly, it was set at liberty.
Such, however, was the effect of the kindness it had received, that
it would never quite leave the place. It would fly to great distances,
and even associate with others of its own kind; but it never
failed to come to the house twice a day to be fed. The peas were
placed for it in the kitchen window. If the window was shut, it
would tap with its beak till it was opened, then come in, eat its
meal, and then fly off again. If by any accident it could not then
gain admittance, it would wait somewhere till the cook came out, when
it would pitch on her shoulder, and go with her into the kitchen.
What made this more extraordinary was, that the cook had not bred
the bird up, and the old woman's cottage was at a little distance; but
as it had no peas left, it came to the parsonage to be fed. This
went on for some time; but the poor bird having lost its fear of man,
was therefore exposed to constant danger from those who did not
know it. It experienced the fate of most pets:—a stranger saw it
quietly sitting on a tree, and shot it, to the great regret of all its
former friends.''
Another tamed one has been kuown, after flying away to a considerable
distance, and remaining absent for several hours, to return
again.
In a few instances they have been known to breed in confinement.
The following is from ' T h e Naturalist,' volume i, page 28, from
the pen of my friend the Rev. l i . P . Alington, a true lover of nature,
and one of the best and most thorough of out-door naturalists; it is
a good specimen too of the 'multum in parvo:'—'As soon as twilight
commences, the various flocks begin to collect, and settle in numbers
upon the larch firs; when they arrive at their roosting-ground, they
not unfrequently take two or three turns high in the air, and then
the whole flock will commence dropping, with closed wings and a
rushing sound, upon the trees; they generally spend half-an-hour or
so upon the very topmost branches, their vinous breasts glittering in
the setting sun. As darkness comes on, they retire to the lower branches
to roost; as each bird descends, a loud flap of the wing may be heard
—an exciting sound to the expecting gunner—-now is the time for
him: the increasing darkness prevents the birds leaving the wood, and
many may be secured during the last half-hour of the lingering light.
But during the day their extreme shyness renders it a most difficult
task to get within shot. In the clear, cold, frosty days in winter,
they may be heard at a considerable distance—their wings making
a whistling sound. As spring comes on, their numbers, in this district,
rapidly decrease, and they leave, (where they go I know not,) to breed
—a very few to all appearance remaining here. These now desert the
woods, and very often approach the garden to feed upon the
new-sown pea.'
The late Bishop Stanley says, ' T h a t birds of this species can form
odd attachments, we may learn from the following strange association
between a House Pigeon and a cat:—The Pigeon had made her nest
in a loft much infested with rats, which had more than once destroyed
her eggs, or devoured her young ones. Her repeated losses at length
induced her to rebuild her nest in another part of the loft, where a
cat was raising three kittens, with whom she contrived to form a
strong friendship. They fed from the same dish, and when the cat
went out into the field, the Pigeon was often observed to be fluttering
near her. The Pigeon, aware of the advantage of her protection, had
placed her nest close to the straw-bed of the cat, and there in safety
reared two broods of young ones, and, in return for the protection
she experienced from the cat, she became a defender of the young
kittens, and would often attack with beak and wings any person
approaching too near.'
I n a Scotch paper for February 13th., 1838, it is stated, ' A circumstance,
perhaps unprecedented in the annals of freezing, was
discovered here last week. A person found in this neighbourhood,
(Crieff,) a Wild Pigeon literally frozen to the branch of a tree, and
so intense was the freeze, that the individual cut the branch, and
carried the Pigeon home in that state alive.'
' I f the habits,' says Meyer, 'of the Wood Pigeon are accurately
observed, it will be seen that it leads a very regular life, and that it
divides the day after the following manner:—From six to nine in the
VOL. ni. a i