Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1918-06-22

iasSSHSeT plSeoHSb InlSTaIlHS
bird of the past, are absolutely ex-
tinct. Travelling in such myriads,
they at times obscured the sun, this
in their spring and fall flights to and
from their feeding and nesting
grounds. Within the last half-cen-
tury the wild pigeon was considered
a table delicacy. which would never
become extinct and always be with
us. To-day there is not one live
specimen in the United States; the
last of the ectopistes migratorius died
in the Geological Gardens in Cincin-
natl few years ago.
We now have with us a blood re-
lation of the passenger pigeon, tine
tured with consanguineous relations
so closely that we may declare the
zenaidura macroura carolinensis or
mourning dove a first cousin. SMALL
er in size and lacking the rich, rusty
brown on the breast, they are seldom
found in flocks of more than six or
eight. usually in pairs. nesting and
roosting anywhere in the woods. In
general contour they very much re-
semble the old passenger bird and
are considered treat by epicures, es-
pecially when encased in a we'll
made potpie. The turtle dove is con-
fused with and reported by many as
the wild pigeon; those who have hunt
ed and killed the latter bird have no
trouble to distinguish between the
two varieties. The mourning dove
breeds throughout the United States
and southern Canada, except northern
New England and the provinces, spe-
cializing in Georgia and Alabama as
permanent headquarters. 1t requires
especial skill to kill sufficient num-
Der of doves on a pass or feeding
field to reach the legal limit or even
bring to bag a sufficient number for
a plethoric potpie "maklngs." No
winged messenger has the number OF
corkscrew dives, dips or coasting
capers in their feathered systems 1
have seen displayed by mourning
doves as they volplane into a water
hole or feeding field. A seasoned
shooter has his attention called to
angles, dips, towers and frills on each
and every hunt that he has never
seen before. Every innovation in
flight introduced requires new compu-
tations. angle leads and rapidity of
action. which do not always spell
success in shooting. A double made
when doves are at their best and
coming over the top means shooting
skill. You are not transgressing
shooting ethics when you call your
field companions attention to your
miracle double.
AS the guest of w. IT. Jones, of
Macon, Georgia's champion tcapshot,
1 participated in a real dove hunt on
the plantation of Lee Kinchens, about
six miles west of Scotland. Ga, a viii
lage OF $50 people. We were quar-
tered at a small hotel, run by a
southern woman. who specialized on
corn pone, cracklings, hot biscuit
sausage and buckwheat cakes, with
other southern delicacies., The word
had gone out" that Mr.. Jones, Geor-
gia's champion wingshot, was going
to shoot in Lee Kinchen's field. There
was a gathering of the clans, both
white and colored, all wanting to act
as human retrievers for him. Mssse
had attracted a few of those Older
colored gemmen." as he w;ts lavish in
his liquid hospitality. HUFF and the
writer had no gallery. personally
gathering our own birds. We were
on the ground about daylight and
found a cornfield seeded down to
black cowpeas; no shooting had been
pioneers in this field. Jones stood in
a swail. Masse near an old dead tree,
Huff and myself along an old rail
fence.
With daylight the birds came from
every direction, headed for their
feeding ground on a breakfast mis-
sion. disappointment awaited them.
During the night the heavy artillery
had moved up and at daylight opened
an incessant bombarding. after first
firing a few range finders. The au-
dience were delighted and encored
many difficult shots. In an incred-
ible space of time Georgia's bag limit
of twenty-five birds per man was
counted and placed in our game
sacks. AS we started for home a
pair of Georgia Crackers" headed
our way. One of our darkies an
nounced that dem brothers owned
the 1kijoining farm" where we had
decided to shoot the following day.
Hospitality was our slogan. Masse
flashed our last bottle of Johnnie
Walker. which kindied sociability at
once. The bottle Travelled from one
brother to the other (never returning
to our care); when the last libation
was imbibed the bottle was thrown
to the ground with the laconic re-
mark to Masse. you don't want
that" We were the twin brothers
shooting guests the following day.
The roads are exceptionally good in
Georgia, due to their convict road la
n