The homing pigeon
of England and America is the voyageur of France
and Belgium, the brieftauben of Germany, and the
carrier of the misinformed. But, whatever the
name, the application has reference to the love of
home and the impulse and ability to return to it.
This love and impulse is not peculiar to the
pigeon, nor is it possessed by all members of its
family, but the pigeon alone of the birds of the
air has submitted to the control of man and is to
be trusted with its liberty, and in it alone have
these qualities been fostered and developed.
That these qualities have always existed in
certain varieties is beyond question, since it is
upon record that man has recognized their value
and subjected them to his use almost from the
beginning, in making the pigeon his message-bearer
in connection with some of the most important
events the world has ever known.
The use of these traversers of space as
couriers to beleaguered Paris in the Franco-German
war was a case of history repeating itself, but
coming within our own day it is to us a fact, not
story, and has the force of an experience. The
relief these couriers brought to the enforced
silence and seclusion of the siege cannot be
overestimated, but it stands for less in the
world's great account than the revelation there
was of the opportunities the use of the bird
afforded, and which the powers of the continent
were not slow to recognize, as evidenced in the
immediate addition of pigeons the military
equipment.
When the siege began, there seemed to be no
chance to receive a word from beyond the walls
while the investment lasted, and hope of it was
abandoned. But to get word to the anxious world
outside seemed possible, and a balloon service was
ventured upon. The anxiety to the fate of the
first aeronaut and his precious cargo led to the
suggestion that pigeons might be sent along to
bring word of the result to the waiting city. This
was acted upon, and when birds carried away in the
second balloon sent out at eleven o'clock in the
morning returned at five in the afternoon,
announcing the safe descent and the forwarding of
the letters and dispatches, the way was at once
opened to a broader use. The birds of the third
balloon were sent to the authorities at Tours, the
seat of the Government, with instructions to use
them as official messengers. Each flight of the
birds was made with increased efficiency, and
within a month of their first employment the
service of "its courier pigeons" was thrown open
to the public by the administration of telegraphs
and posts. The extent of the service rendered may
be conceived when it is known that one hundred and
fifty thousand official dispatches and over a
million private messages were carried over the
heads of the besieging Germans into Paris. It was
as Pliny said of the siege of Modena, "Of what use
were all the efforts of the enemy when Brutus had
his couriers in the air."
Of the sixty-four balloons sent out, two were
lost, five were captured by the Prussians, and one
was carried by a storm into Norway. All others
descended upon friendly territory. Three hundred
and sixty-three birds in all were taken from
Paris, but, although the birds seventy-three times
escaped the hawks and guns of the Germans and
returned with messages, the work was done by
fifty-seven, as several made the journey more than
once. One bird known as the "Angel of the Siege "
made the journey six times. One pigeon caught was
sent by the Prince Frederick Charles to his
mother, as a prisoner of war. After four years of
confinement in the royal lofts, the little French
bird took advantage of an opportunity to escape
and returned to its old home.
The messages were at first written upon one
side of the paper. This was folded and covered
with wax, then bound to a feather of the tail.
They were next photographed, to reduce the size,
and to insure correctness in the copies sent by
the several birds. The next change was first to
set the matter in type, and to photograph upon
both sides of the paper. Later, when the
Government was removed to Bordeaux, a thin film of
collodion was taken as the surface, and though
only one side was used, a single film contained
twenty-five messages, and a bird could carry a
dozen films. With the photographed messages a new
method of transmission was adopted; they were
inserted in a section of a quill, which was bound
to the tail-feathers by passing a silken cord
through holes pierced in the ends by a red-hot
steel point.
The military lofts
of Germany are the most complete in every
particular ever known. No expense is spared in
their maintenance, in the selection of stock, and
in experiment and contrivance to render the
service of greatest value in time of need. The
plant consists of flights at each military center,
and the training is in using the birds for every
conceivable emergency. The Government further
essays to engage outside cooperation by the
encouragement of pigeon-flying as a national
sport. The method of sending the message said to
be best approved by Herr Lenzen, the director, is
to place it, reduced by microphotography, in the
quill of a loose tail-feather of the color of the
bird that is to carry it. This, fastened among the
tail-feathers, is practically invisible to the
unassisted or inexperienced eye. The pigeon-lofts
of France are rapidly approaching German
proportions, and expedient follows experiment in
forestalling situations which might arise for the
actual use of the birds. One curious experiment to
insure communication between two invested cities
or fortresses is worthy of the age. Young birds
are taken from the nursery to the loft of one
station and detained until they know the place as
home. They are then removed to another to remain
until they also feel familiar with it. They are
finally taught to look to the one for food and to
the other for water, thus causing them to journey
from one to the other to satisfy the demands for
existence, and giving them a double course over
which they can be depended on to travel at such
times as food is furnished at one loft and water
at the other.
In England the
homing pigeon is used to good purpose as
message-bearer, but it is in individual service.
Mr. W. B. Tegetmeier, General F. C. Hazzard, and
Captain H. T. A. Allatt have been persistent in
their efforts to induce the government to adopt it
as an adjunct to the national defense; but, while
in all probability the bird will in time be added
to the colonial service, it is doubtful if it has
extended use at home. "God help old England in the
day she must depend upon the pigeon as a messenger
of war," is the comment of Mr. John W. Logan, of
Market Harbororo England's best fancier. "My
experience," he adds, "has taught me that the
pigeon cannot be depended upon as a means of
communication in our foggy climate. On a foggy day
the very best birds are useless." Still, the
pigeon has done good service in the past. Its
employment today is mainly to bring reports from
off the water and from isolated or outlying
districts and for sporting news. The saddest
message that was probably ever carried was to an
English father waiting at home to time the birds
his little son, a lad of twelve, had taken away by
train to liberate. The birds were late, but when
they came they all bore messages saying the little
owner had been killed by an accident to the train,
and as there were no identifying marks they had
hoped to communicate with the relatives in this
way. None knew the boy, except that he was a
passenger on each half-holiday to fly his pigeons.
In 1882 Major-General Hazen, of the Signal
Service, and Major J. C. Breckinridge, of the
Department of the Pacific, gave the subject of the
use of pigeons in our own country serious
consideration, the one for conveying warnings from
the signal stations to isolated or distant
centers; the other for communicating between
stations in the West, and in Indian warfare. The
result was a Memoir on the Use of the Homing
Pigeon, published by the authority of the
Secretary of War, and issued at about the same
time from Washington and the Presidio, San
Francisco.
The comment of Lieutenant Birkhimer, author of
the signal service edition, upon the information
furnished him by pigeon fanciers was, " It is
extremely doubtful if the use of the birds of even
the best breeds would compensate for the trouble
of caring for and training them." This was indeed
hard lines for those who held to the belief that
their birds were capable of anything, and that the
world knew them to be so; and one of the faithful,
Mr. E. H. Conover, of Keyport, N. J., at once
engaged to show that his young birds, at least,
had "endurance for more than 150 miles before
October of the year in which they were hatched,"
and needed no such coddling as the paltry
five-mile jumps with a rest between; and, for full
assurance, took the course from the south-west,
and asked the favor of the start from Washington
of the Chief Signal Officer.
All of the birds
engaged but one were less than five months old at
the time of the first journey, and although they
had been flown around home, none had been over
sixty miles away when the trial began. This was
August 15th, and from Elkton, Md., one hundred
miles. From this every bird returned, and in good
time. The next journey was on the 19th, from Havre
de Grace, seventeen miles beyond. Liberated at
7:06 A.M. by Mr. R. Seneca, all returned at about
the same time, the first entering the loft at 10:
2 1 1/2 A. M. The next Friday the birds were sent
to Washington, thus giving them over sixty miles
of unknown country to cover before arriving at
their last station. The start was at 5:28 A M.,
and the first return, four birds together, at
10:49 A.M. Seven of the nine had entered the loft
six minutes later. The returns were reported by
message-bird to New York, where the report was
made up, and the best speed reported to Washington
by wire by noon; and to Keyport twenty miles
distant, by bird arriving before 12:45 P.M. Again
all returned. The next journey was from Lynchburg,
Va., three hundred and thirty- eight miles from
Keyport and with a hundred and fifty-five miles of
strange country. The start was at 6:10 A. M.
September 1st by Sergeant John Healy. The first
return was the Conover "Baby Mine " at 6:01 P.M.,
the first to return in any young bird season from
over two hundred and fifty miles within the limits
of the day of the start. The second return was at
about seven o'clock the next morning. None of the
Keyport birds were lost in these journeys.
In our country of
magnificent distances and tardy messengers,
pigeons are more largely employed as couriers than
is generally known, inasmuch as the service is
mainly for individual convenience. Very many
business men in cities communicate with home in
the suburbs by pigeon- post, or use the birds
between office and factory. Farmers use them as
messengers through the neighborhood, and from the
post-office and the town. Country physicians often
have an apartment prepared for the birds in their
conveyance, and carry their birds on their rounds
as regularly as they carry their instruments and
their bottles, using them to bring word later on
from their patients, and to send word home when
there is need. And even the New York brokers
promise to follow the example of Mr. A. De
Cordova, who says, "I use my birds to bring the
reports from Wall street to me at Chetolah, my
summer residence near North Branch." Mr. R. D.
Hume of Fruit Vale, California, claims to use
pigeons with complete success between his
factories, some three hundred miles to the north.
Years ago certain of the Wells-Fargo agents in the
mountains of Nevada used pigeons to bring them the
news from the nearest station the same day, that
by regular means would not have reached them until
the third following. There are many prominent
business men and capitalists in the vicinity of
New York today who owe their prosperity to the
foundation laid years ago through advice conveyed
by pigeons in advance of the mail by stage.
The use of pigeons by Mr. C. T. Arnoux as
message-bearers, in the yacht races of last
September, proves conclusively the value the birds
might have as messengers from off the water. The
purpose was the thought of the last moment, and
when almost too late to make the necessary
preparations. The arrangements were hasty and the
material homed at several centers, some of them
miles away from the center of use. Still, with all
drawbacks, insufficiencies, and mistakes, it was
evident to, the most prejudiced that with birds
trained for the work, and with the atmospheric
conditions at all favorable, the birds would six
times out of seven prove to be of the greatest
value; and failing the seventh, we would be only
where we are without them. The messages were each
not less than ten pages of manifold note, and were
carried upon the middle feathers of the tail, to
which they were fastened by fine copper wire,
wound about and pressed flat, to hold the message
close to the feather. The editor of a newspaper
served by these pigeons said, "It gives me a
peculiar sensation to receive copy from the hand
of one I know to be out of reach upon the water,
and to feel that he may talk to me but I cannot
answer back. It is a wonder to me after this
experience that the officers of any vessel,
excursion steamer, yacht, sail or tug boat should
be willing to leave the shore without this means
of communicating with it."
Very many of the merchant marine, especially in
European waters, have pigeons on board for use in
communicating with the vessel from the small boats
away from it or from shore. These birds, it is
said, never mistake another vessel for their own
when at dock or in the harbor. It has been
remarked of several flights that the birds in
exercising, when far out of sight of land, will go
away for hours at a time, and upon their return
will have dried mud on their feet and legs,
showing them to, have been upon shore.
Mr. A. P. Baldwin experimented with pigeons for
sea service twice in 1885,and to his satisfaction.
One bird liberated by Officer Croom of the
Waesland at one o'clock in the afternoon, when
three hundred and fifteen miles from Sandy Hook,
was in the loft at evening. Another let go from
the Circassia at nine in the morning, when two
hundred and fifty-five miles out, brought a
message before evening.
The sport of
pigeon-flying is at its best in its methods and
magnitude in Belgium, where it is the national
pastime. There it is said that one-fifth of the
entire population are active fanciers, while the
majority of the buildings have the dormer window
which tells of the pigeon-loft beneath the roof.
The extent to which it is carried may be known
when the birds of a single province sent into
France to be liberated during the six months of
the season of 1885 were over a million in number,
and were carried out in eleven hundred and six
cars. The birds are sent away in such numbers that
special trains are made up for them. Sunday is
race day, but until the races of the day are
decided no other thought or occupation has place
with the average Belgian.
The speed attained in short races to Belgian
lofts is almost inconceivable, as the first
returns in a few of the journeys from different
distances in 1885 will serve to show:
It was at Ixelles,
one of the most enthusiastic centers of the sport,
that a company of the militia were at drill early
in the morning, to be free at the time the birds
liberated in the races of the day should arrive.
All was well until the cloud of the returning
birds appeared on the horizon, when there was an
instant of uneasiness; then, all war forgotten but
the waiting lofts at home, and as if with one
impulse the company broke ranks and rushed at full
speed toward the town. The officer, with his back
toward the approaching birds, was speechless with
amazement until he saw the cause; then, knowing
how it was for himself, he too joined in the
pursuit, regardless of his accouterments. The
morning press in comment hoped "if this should
reach the ear of the authorities, they would
recognize the exigency of the occasion and be
lenient."
From St. Sebastian, Spain, to Liege, in 1862,
was probably the most extraordinary journey ever
made by homing pigeons. The distance was six
hundred and fifteen miles, airline; but one bird,
at least, covered it the same day, as its marks
were verified at the race-room before the doors
were closed for the night. Fifteen others were
shown early the next morning. It was not supposed
to be possible for birds to cover such a distance
within the limits of the day, and the lofts were
without watchers. It is often asked, if birds can
make such distances in a day, why can they not
return from a thousand miles the third day at
farthest? The supposition is that the bird travels
through the first day without rest, but the next
morning finds itself fatigued and, it may be,
stiff and sore from its night out-of-doors and
away from its accustomed shelter. That it does not
at once resume its journey, but waits until it is
refreshed and again in condition. A return from an
extreme distance is never travel-stained or
wearied.
The sport in America is not fifteen years old,
and even of this the first seasons were given to
the short-distance sweepstake races, popular among
a certain class of the English. The first
incentive to distance-flying was in 1878, when one
hundred dollars in gold was offered to the owner
of the first bird to return from a station five
hundred miles away. The first attempt to win this
was made the same year from Columbus, Ohio, to New
York, four hundred and seventy-five miles, but
both birds started were lost. It was the next year
that the real competition begun. Philadelphia
birds were first to be started, but the owners in
their haste to be first did not comply with the
conditions, and the record made was lost. As a
preliminary journey for the birds of New York and
vicinity, they were sent to Steubenville, Ohio,
three hundred and forty miles, and to the surprise
of every one there were returns the day of
liberating. The first bird home was "Francisco,"
owned by Mr. L. Waefelaer, Hoboken; time, eight
hours eighteen minutes. Nearly a month later, when
the entry was called for the Columbus race, six
birds were offered, three from New York and three
from Brooklyn. All six returned. The first to make
the journey was "Boss," owned by Oscar Donner,
Brooklyn, arriving before noon of the second day.
This year the "Nun," owned by Mr. J. R. Husson,
made the journey from Cresson, Pennsylvania, to
New York, two hundred and forty-three miles, in
two hundred and thirty-seven minutes, - the mile
in about fifty-eight and a half seconds.
The effort from this time on was for a one-day
journey from the Columbus distance, or " 500
miles" as it was termed. The best returns through
the several years were :
The records for
distance journeys made by American birds are:
The last-named
distances were the greatest ever covered by a
homing pigeon. The marvel for the performance is
not that the birds should have returned from so
many miles, but that they should have supported
themselves by the way and yet have escaped the
hawks and gunners.
The work of the bird Arnoux, mentioned above,
during the season of 1885 was proof of what a good
bird could accomplish. Its training journeys up to
the first race amounted to about 150 miles. The
races in which it engaged were 130, 196, 272, 372
and 535 miles; in all, 1655 miles. Sent later to
515 miles, and still later to 1010 miles, it made
the record for the four months of 3180 miles It
was sent later still to fly from Boutte, La., but
had not returned at the opening of the season for
this year.
Other records than these which at the close of
the season of 1185 remained to be beaten were :
It was in 1882
that young birds were first sent to fly from over
250 miles. The best results of the many efforts
made each year to cover a greater distance within
the day of liberating have been :
The greatest
distances to which our birds have been sent are:
The journeys
enumerated were not by any means the extent of the
flying, but were those in which all were
interested, and tend to show the progress made by
American fanciers. There were, besides, club races
to every center, home and home races engaging the
birds of different cities, and journeys of
venture.
Up to the nineteenth century varieties of the
Eastern bird, the dragon, horseman, and bagadotten,
were used as flyers by the English, while the
Belgians found their purpose served by the bird
breeding naturally in the cornices of the public
buildings and the outbuildings of the farms.
Facilities for transportation were limited, and
distances to be traversed were in consequence
equally so. Speed was sufficient for the ends of
competition, and speed was attained. Development
of the power of orientation was not necessary, as
the bird could see its home, or at least known
objects, from the height to which it would
naturally rise. In these early days the birds were
carried to the starting-point in hampers strapped
to the shoulders of a man, and whatever the
distance, it was a long and weary time for both
conveyor and birds. Sometimes, when the entry was
large and the distance excessive, a cage of many
compartments was built upon cart, and this, drawn
by horse or dog or pushed by a man, traveled to
its destination. When the first birds were sent to
Paris, one hundred and fifty miles, it was thought
a foolhardy enterprise; but when the first bird
returned it was carried through the streets of the
capital upon a wagon draped with the national
colors, and preceded by musicians playing upon
violins, while at the street corners salutes were
fired. It was an ovation to a hero, but was no
greater honor than was accorded to the first
return in the seven hundred and fifty miles
journey from Rome a few years later.
As facilities for
transportation increased the distances were
extended, and new elements were brought into the
composition of the bird to meet the greater
demands upon it.
The homing pigeon has no points of color, and
for form the one rule is the likeliest for homing
purposes. The rule in breeding is to cross colors,
and find in one the qualities the other lacks. The
head may be long or short, round or flat, narrow
or broad, but somewhere in it there must be
brain-room.
Mr. J. R. Husson,
an inquiring fancier, said:
"I thought this head business worth looking
into; so, when a very good bird died, I sent him
to a phrenologist, and in due time we had a small
addition to a host of skulls, from the human down,
and this much I learned. This little skull was
shaped very much like the back of a human skull,
and, unlike that of most animals and birds, was
connected with the body at its base. I say like
the back part of the human skull, for the brain of
the homing pigeon is entirely in the back part of
the head. Draw a line vertically through the eye,
and we get the forward boundary of the brain. In
the full forehead there is only bone. I say the
brain is connected with the body at the base of
the skull, as is man's. Now it is a fact that this
is the connection of the most intelligent, whereas
of the least so, be they birds or animals, the
connection is at the back. Imagine a horizontal
line backward through the eye, and we get the
point of connection in the lowest species. The
alligator, with head-capacity for a half-bushel of
brains, has them all in an auger-hole running
towards the nose and dwindling to a point. It is
as we advance in the scale of intelligence that
the spot of connection nears the base of the
skull. Again, comparing this homer's skull with a
common pigeon of the same we found at least
one-fourth more brain-room in the homer, and the
excess located more especially in the lower back
portion."
But wherever this
brain is located, or whatever its quantity, its
power must be evident in the eye. It is the eye,
first of all, that speaks to the experienced
fancier. The white eye may mean the cumulet or the
barb cross, but the latter will be easily
determined by the shape of the skull, the
eye-cere, and the build of the bird. If the
cumulet, it means that the bird will fly high,
have great endurance and wing-power. If the eye is
dark, the head round, and the beak short and
close-fitting, there will be a preponderance of
the owl type; and whatever the cross, the result
will be a persistent and intelligent home-seeker
that will fly later at night than any other type.
The red-eyed bird has the native Antwerp strong in
its composition. If the eye is restless, and the
pupil constantly dilates, it shows the bird to be
far from inbred, but to be nervous and wiry, the
result of the mingling of many bloods. If the eye
is mild and beaming, there has been inbreeding,
and not far away. But whatever the character or
the color, the ball must extend beyond the line of
the head, as shown in the bird "Albright," and be
so placed that the bird has as good a view of what
is behind as before it. When a bird returns from a
journey over much new territory, this protrusion
of the eyeball Is greatly increased, showing to
what great strain the powers of vision have been
pushed.
The chest should be full and broad; breadth is
especially essential, otherwise the wings will be
too close together to have the muscles which give
the fullness to the breast and the fully developed
power of flight. When a bird returns from a severe
journey, these muscles are swollen and rigid,
their size being greatly increased beyond the
ordinary.
The wing in its shape is largely a matter of
choice. The short, small wing calls for more
exercise of the muscles, hence is more easily
tired. The texture of the web in some is coarse
and parts easily, while in others one may cover
the end of the finger with the feather without its
breaking. When the feathers of the wing are in
prime condition, the web of one, as it laps over
another, almost adheres to it, and the quill and
shaft are tough, not brittle. The bath-tub is an
absolute necessity in the flying-loft, that
plumage being in the best condition which is
oftenest washed. A wing is made up of ten flight
or primary feathers and ten secondaries. The moult
is so gradual as never to interfere with the
flight, one feather dropping at a time, and being
almost replaced before another falls.
The tail of the pigeon acts as the rudder in a
flight, and should be of good length. This length
is increased by pulling out the feathers in the
first year.
The legs of the homing pigeon are preferred
free from feathers. Both legs and feet are red. An
Arabic legend tells us that the bird with the
olive-twig returned to the ark with red mud on its
feet and legs, and this so enhanced its beauty
that the good Noah, in his joy at once more
beholding the soil, prayed that the legs of the
courier-pigeon might always be red.
A peculiarity of
the pigeon has been revealed by the mishaps of the
homing pigeon that would not probably have been
otherwise known. This is that the operations of
digestion are stayed during flight. This was
surmised, inasmuch as a bird even from an all-day
journey did not show signs of hunger upon return,
and equally true of the high-flying pigeons which
remain for hours upon the wing, sometimes even
from morning until night. To prove this, when
birds were killed en route, as it sometimes
happened, and were reported, in one instance after
an all-day journey, their crops were examined and
the contents were but slightly changed. As in each
instance the food in the crop was the gray Canada
pea, the peculiar small corn, and the hempseed
that had been sent with the birds, and fed to them
before the start, there could be no mistake. The
habit of the wild bird would seem to demand some
such provision. The "dove-house" resides in the
city buildings, and the blue rock nests upon the
cliffs, both far from their feeding-places in the
fields. It is the habit of the family to feed the
young with food carried in the crop and to be
disgorged for them. Unless the operations of
digestion were discontinued during the journey
from field to young, it would seem difficult to
provide the nourishment required for the squeaker
or the squealer. Both Audubon and Wilson base the
speed of the American bird Ectopistes migratoria
upon the sort and condition of the food found in
the crop of specimens shot many hundred miles from
the nearest source of such food. My inference from
my experience with the homing pigeon would be that
the condition was no test of the time which had
elapsed since it had last eaten, but if unchanged
or nearly so, that the flying had been continuous.
This question is of much importance in
pigeon-flying, since, if the food remains
unchanged, the system has no need of it, and it is
therefore useless to give the added weight of a
full crop, to bear as it must upon the muscles of
flight.
The color of the
young homer is problematical, since the parents
may represent many types. But whether it will be
dark, light, or white may be guessed at by the
quantity of down upon it. If dark, it will be well
covered; if light, less so; if white, it will be
naked. The youngster flies strong and well when
ten weeks old, but four months is quite young
enough to begin its training. The age is required
for intellectual development rather than for
increased wing-power. To start a loft, one must
either purchase breeders and keep them prisoners,
with a wired-in area for exercise, or youngsters
just from the nest which may be given their
liberty almost at once
The pigeon matures
so quickly it soon loses the nest-marks, and may
be mistaken for an adult while still a youngster.
A young-bird record is one made in the autumn of
the year in which it is hatched. To keep out the
autumn and December birds of the previous year,
with their added months of experience, "young
birds" must be marked either by seamless bands of
brass upon the legs when in the nest, or by marks
placed upon the wing-feathers when squealers. This
marking must not begin before March of any year,
and "the bird must squeal when stamped." The
seamless bands are large enough for the leg of the
adult bird, but cannot be slipped over the foot of
a bird more than a week old. The mark upon these
is changed each year, but the mark is not fixed
upon for the year until after Christmas of the
year previous.
The races of a
series are generally six, beginning with
seventy-five miles and closing with five hundred,
with an interval of a week between all except the
last, when there is a fortnight's delay. The
journeys previous to the races are known as
training stages, and are of five, ten, twenty, and
forty miles, with a day or two between them. These
are to teach the birds first to leave the basket
and go home, next to give them confidence, and
finally to insure the exercise necessary for
condition. The really-in-earnest fancier, however,
flies his birds almost continually about home.
There is a basket just fitting under the seat of
his conveyance or at the back of his business
wagon; or he carries a pet bird to toss in his
pocket or as a paper parcel. The training journeys
for old birds are mainly for the exercise and to
get them into condition for the hard work that
lies before them.
In pigeon-flying
no one's word is taken, but the rules governing
the journeys demand disinterested management in
every particular and the most complete proof. This
is not because of the Talmud's assertion that
"flyers of pigeons are liars," but in order to
have the answer in unimpeachable evidence to every
question that may arise. Everything pertaining to
a. race is in writing and attested.
The proof of the Journey is in the private mark
placed upon a feather of the bird's wing by, a
disinterested party, and that cannot, by the
precautions that are taken, be known to any one
interested in the result until seen on the bird's
wing after liberating. This mark is shown in the
combination following the name of the race station
in the wing of a record bird. This wing is as that
of the bird "Ned Damon" of Brooklyn appeared at
the close of the season of 1885. It has not the
mark of the first race of the series, from
Philadelphia, eighty-one miles, the feather
bearing this having been she and replaced.
The countermarking
and shipping is generally the second day previous
to the race date. Before sending away, all baskets
containing the birds are inspected, and after
being sealed are delivered to the express. The
liberators are always responsible gentlemen who
are selected and instructed in their duties by a
disinterested party. No identifying mark except
the race secretary's name is permitted upon the
feathers of a race bird; thus if caught en route
the owner cannot be communicated with.
The "time" of return is not when the bird
alights upon home property, but when it is secure
beyond retreat in the loft. The entrance for the
bird is by raising a pair of wires hung from
staples at the top. These "bobs" swing in free,
but falling against a ledge prevent the egress of
the bird. The click of this "bob " after a bird as
it enters the loft is the signal for "time." This
time is taken by a referee at the loft. If the
return is reported by telegram, the time given is
that at which the message is delivered to the
operator and which is included with the
countermark in the message. From this time is
deducted the allowance for reaching the office
from the loft, to find the time of arrival. The
competition in all one-day journeys is for average
speed. This is obtained by dividing the air-line
distance covered by each bird by its time of
flying. As the bird does not, except in extreme
cases, fly after sundown, this method does not
apply to second-day journeys, when actual time out
is taken instead.
There was formerly
a rule in flying that a bird should not be
liberated within a certain distance of a race
station before the race; but it was found that
birds made the best speed over unknown territory,
and the repeated journey from a station was never
in as good time as the first.
The, attachment of the pigeon is not for mate
or young, but for its home, its perch, and its
nest-box. The homing pigeon is peculiarly
possessed with the proprietary instinct and a
dislike of change. The first place it selects in a
loft it holds to the end. An owner knowing his
loft can go in the dark and tell the bird he
touches by its location. A bird absent for years
takes its old place upon its return. But holding
to its own to the death does not deter it from
adding to its possessions. A lively young bird
will sometimes defend his own peculiar belongings
and at the same time attempt to occupy a line of
perches and a tier of nest-boxes to the exclusion
of others. It is a holiday in the loft when the
king bird of it is sent away upon a journey, and
his rival in possessing himself of his apartments
leaves some other site free for another; but it is
war when the owner returns, and however weary he
may be he does not rest until the intruder is
expelled and his belongings thrown out. A bird
will accept a change of mate, will not grieve for
loss of young or eggs, but it cannot be made to
occupy new quarters so long as the old exist. It
will submit to removal to another loft, and if
when it "visits " the old home it is ill-treated
it will return to the new home of its own accord,
seeming to understand what is required of it; but
the place that is its own in either it will not
willingly yield to another. Birds have been known
to be content in a new home, and yet to return to
the old to dispute the possession of the old perch
and box.
The much-discussed
question of the homing of the pigeon, or, as the
French term it, orientation, does not seem
difficult to meet to one who has had much to do
with the birds. There are, however, as many
theories advanced as there are scientists who have
studied it. One ascribes it to a sense of which we
are not cognizant; as if the senses were six and
man had knowledge of but five of them. Another
finds a path for the birds in the magnetic
currents of the atmosphere, another in its
currents of heat and cold. Some rank the impulse
with the instinct of the migratory bird, while
others ascribe the performance to sight, and
others again to luck and chance. The facts do not
bear out any of these theories. The atmospheric
currents may aid, but it is by their velocity and
direction, not their temperature, and they hinder
as often. The magnetic currents may affect, but it
is in stimulating and intensifying, or, as they
are adverse, in depressing. It is not instinct.
Instinct is involuntary and unerring. Guided by
instinct, the bird would not go astray, and the
element of uncertainty upon which the sport
depends would be lost. The homing pigeon not only
errs, but shows indecision. Thus its action is
voluntary and the result of a sort of reflection,
and it is as the premises of which it takes
cognizance are imperfect or false that its action
is in error.
The sight of the
homing pigeon is only limited by the dip of the
horizon and the altitude at which it can sustain
itself in the air. Its memory exceeds human
understanding. Thus a bird will rise from a basket
and be over a strange place only long enough to go
away from it, but, if it feels itself to be lost,
is injured, or is unable to proceed, it will
return to the place of the start.
Eighteen Keyport birds liberated in Charlotte,
N. C., in the spring of 1884, were kept in the
upper room of a hotel while waiting for the time
of the start. All left the roof together at five
A. M and went away out of sight towards the west,
but soon returned, and after circling over the
hotel took their direction towards the south.
Again they returned, and after taking several wide
circles over the city took an air-line course
towards the north-east, going out of sight at
half-past six o'clock, at great speed. A few
minutes later six came back and settled upon the
Masonic Temple, opposite the hotel. Three of these
went away later in the day, but the other three
returned through the open window to the room of
the hotel in which they had been kept
The little travelers were being watched for at
Greensboro, nearly a hundred miles to the north;
but when at half-past seven o'clock the twelve
passed over, flying very high and with almost
incredible swiftness, there was doubt expressed as
to their identity, as the birds to be started
numbered eighteen. The little travelers, to have
been over that city at that time, must have
traveled at the average speed of a mile and a half
to the minute.
Another instance
of intelligent although misdirected purpose will
show another and not uncommon phase of the bird's
character, if so we may term it. "The Scamp" was
purchased by Mr. E. 0. Damon, Northampton, Mass.,
from the loft of judge Willard, Utica, N. Y., when
a squealer. In due time it was put upon the road,
and it returned regularly from all of the journeys
up to that from White Plains, N. Y., one hundred
and five Miles southwest. While its owner was
watching for it from this start, he received a
telegram advising him of its presence in Utica,
one hundred and fifty-three miles north-west of
White Plains. The bird, sent home by express, was
kept a prisoner until it was thought to have
forgotten its escapade, and when liberated was
seemingly the most contented bird of the flight.
One morning, however, he breakfasted in
Northampton, then persuaded his mate to fly with
him to Utica, one hundred and thirty-eight miles
away, where they were found at noon. They had
taken possession of the nest-box in which "The
Scamp" was hatched, after dislodging its occupants
and wrecking their belongings, and had settled
themselves in it for housekeeping.
My long experience
with the homing pigeon in its vagaries and its
methods leads me to rank its performance as the
highest act of which an animal is capable, and to
believe that it is not to be ascribed to the blind
guidance of instinct or intuition, but that the
bird is entirely dependent upon its intelligence;
that its superior organization of brain permits
some sort of mental direction to its actions of
which others of the animal creation are not
capable ; that it is by its keen sight and
wonderful memory, directed by its intelligence and
poised by perfect physical condition, that it
answers to the demand of the governing impulse of
its nature - the love of home.
