Year: 1878




That trim, gentle-looking, drab-col-
ored bird, enormously called turtle
dove by dwellers in the United States
and generally deemed so utterly inno-
cent, and pure that to kill 1t for the ia
BILE or any other use is branded as cri-
minal in the extreme, Is not so innocent
after all. Its moaning, sad-sounding
voice is mockery and cheat; its soft,
dark eyes are sham; its sober, Quaker
garb is calculated to deceive; its timid
movements are not to be trusted. When
once IL has been insulted or injured by
one Of its kind, the dove becomes as
cruel and outrageously heartless as any
murderer can be. Some years ago l
witnessed fight between two moaning
doves, which for utter righteousness
could not be exceeded. was angling
In brook for sun perch, half prone on
a grassy bank, lost in brown study,
with cigar between my lips, when l
happened to see dove alight on a
gnarled bough of plane-tree few
yards distant. Immediately it began
to coo in that doleiully plaintive strain
so we'll known to every lover Of nature,
and was soon Joined by male, who
perched himself within foot or so Of
her. espied their nest, not yet finish
ed, in the fork of an Iron-wOod tree
near by. The birds made very express
i've signs to each other with their
heads by series of bows, mods and side
wise motions, of which | understood
enough to know that some intruder was
near-perhaps they meant me. The
fish were not biting any too well, but
the shade was pleasant and the grass
fragrant, the sound of the water very
soothing, and the flow of the wind
steady and cooling, so | did not care to
move just to humor the whims of pair
Of billing doves. Itproved however,
after all, that | was not the cause of
alarm. Another female dove presently
dropped like hawk from dark dense
mass of leaves above the pair, and
struck the first Oh the back with beak
and wings. A fight ensued, witnessed
with calm interest by myself and the
male dove.


At first the combatants struggled
desperately together on the bough,
fiercely beating each other with their
wings, and plucktng out the feathers
from breast and neck, all the time ut
tering low, querulous notes, different
from anything had ever before heard.
Pretty soon they fell off the bough and
came whirling down upon the ground,
where they continued the battle with
constantly-increasing fury, their eyes
flashing fire, and cutting and thrusting
with their beaks like, swordsmen.
Blood began to show itself about their
heads, and in places their necks were
quite bare of feathers. When at last
one of them became SO exhausted that
further struggle was impossible, the
other proceeded to take its stand upon
its helpless opponent, and would have
quickly made an end Of it had not in
terfered. The vanquished bird was
minus an eye, and was unable to fly
for some minutes. The secret of the
battle was jealousy. The male sat by
and watched in nonchalant way until
it was all over, when he very lovingly
strutted up to the victorious bird, and
began cooling in low, soothing tone.
From tha. day to this have repudiated
the figure 'innocent as dove" and
whenever opportunity offered, have
sped two-ounce arrow full at the
breast of the bird, widow or no widow.
When properly cooked by parboiling,
stuffing and baking, a dove is a choice
bit for the table. While on this sub
iect, may add that in the Southern
States doves often congregate in innu-
merable swarms, like pigeons, and do
great damage to the peanut fields, yet
there the prejudice against killing them
Is so great that you rarely see trap or
spring set for them, or gun levelled
at them.