A Feathered River Across the Sky

by Joel Greenberg

  TRAPPINGS: NETS, BAIT, AND STOOL PIGEONS

  No one other factor contributed more to extinction of the species than did organized netting.

  —DUANE YOUNG, 1953

  Traps proved to be both more efficient and less expensive than guns in capturing pigeons, and trapping was the only way to satisfy the live-pigeon market. (By the 1870s, though, some netters were finding birds too spooked to approach bait.) Almost all of the traps involved spring-nets, but a few were of other design. Newly fledged squabs could be lured into pens by live decoys, then their exit would be blocked with a net. Boxes of various sizes and even troughs used to collect maple syrup were raised at one end by props tied to long ropes. Grain was placed under the container, and when enough birds began feeding, the rope was released and the box enclosed the birds. A variant of this type proved successful in a wheat field near Winnipeg, Manitoba. Nets twenty feet long and fifteen wide were extended on frames, one side of which was kept up by an eight-foot-long pole connected to a cord that would be tugged at the right second. Would-be trappers placed dead trees and stuffed pigeons next to the net to lure the birds.26

  From Ontario came two novel, albeit simple, approaches. In one, boys built small huts out of grain-bearing sheaths. When pigeons came to feed on the roof, the boys would reach up and grab them. A candidate for most horrible trap, although apparently not often used, was a platform about eight feet tall filled with sticking wax and enough food to attract the birds. The prize, though, for opportunistic netting has to go to the farmer in Massachusetts in the 1600s who told his friend Cotton Mather that he had caught two hundred dozen pigeons with two minutes’ worth of effort: the birds flew into his barn and he merely closed the door!27

  A few enjoyed the sport of netting, but most pursued it for money. Some of these latter were professional, but many saw pigeon netting as a sideline, a way of augmenting the family larder. William Armstrong began compiling a list of netters in the vicinity of his hometown of Blairstown, New Jersey: “It soon resembled that of a list of voters at a polling place.”28 I think it has been overlooked that a great number of people killed passenger pigeons in their spare time and sold the surplus.

  The netting operations were often intricate, involving captive pigeons, bait, and net traps. Where the birds nested, there were at least two variations. Early in the season when the pigeons were concentrated, nets were set up nearby to capture birds as they made their various foraging flights. This activity was known as “flight-catching,” and most of the captives were killed. Later during nesting, as the birds dispersed from the nesting site, more time was necessary to attract a sufficient number to a given trap location. To compensate for the fewer numbers caught, most of these birds were kept alive for shooting contests, which brought a higher price per bird. Special pigeon baskets woven of hickory, oak, or other wood strips held live pigeons. One scribe called them a “portable prison house for feathered innocents.” A narrow opening and neck enabled the hunter to easily stuff a bird headfirst, but stopped the birds from escaping. And wide potbellies prevented suffocation.29

  Nets varied in size. Peter Yarnell and his brother used a tiny one of four square feet. They still caught 21 pigeons at a time and 103 in a day, which exceeded their personal needs. But far more common were the industrial-size nets, which often ranged from twenty-five to forty feet long and ten to twenty feet wide. A net used in Ontario was twice that large. The best of the nets were made of linen, fashioned from hand-spun flax into meshes of one to two inches. On occasion the nets would be stained with butternut bark to make them less conspicuous. Two nets were sometimes used side by side and triggered so they snapped back toward each other making it harder for birds to escape.30

  A pigeon basket of white oak made to hold and transport live passenger pigeons. Courtesy of School House Museum, Ridgewood Historical Society (New Jersey)

  To get a sense of how these traps worked, picture a giant mousetrap with one end of the net attached to the bar. When it was released, the net would be unfurled over the birds attracted to the bed. Here is a description of a typical rig used in Pennsylvania: “One side of the net would be staked along the entire length to the ground and through the other side which was free, was run what was called the net string, which was fastened on each end to the spring poles by which the net was sprung. The spring poles were … doubled back to give force by which the net was spread and were a number of feet from the net. The net would be tucked carefully on the ground along the staked side and so arranged that when it was released it would fly out and spread itself over the ground or bed on which the pigeons … would alight.” Sometimes the pigeoner dug a slight trench in which he could obscure the rolled-up net. In the same vicinity, two short stakes or “release rods” were hammered into the earth. Each of these stakes had a shorter dowel driven through it that could be pulled by a cord held by the trapper to spring the net. As for the poles, trappers liked beech, cedar, hemlock, hickory, and other trees whose wood was both flexible and strong. The nets were often weighted at their edges to facilitate their unfurling and to make it harder for birds to escape; sometimes metal rings placed around the poles were connected to the ropes so when the net rested at the end of its trajectory, the ring would slide down to hold the birds more securely.31

  A bough house or hiding place for hunters, by the painter Arthur Tait, published by Currier and Ives in 1862. Courtesy of Garrie Landry

  Since the trap was sprung by a human hand, the bodies attached to these hands had to be hidden in a blind. This was usually called a “bough house” or “booth.” It tended to be a small simple affair situated close to one of the spring poles with a frame of branches, often cedars and other evergreens when they were available. Then smaller branches, bearing a thick growth of leaves, would fill in the cracks, making the inhabitants invisible. Leading to it were a number of cords enabling the netters to manipulate the live pigeons that were so integral to the effort, as well as the trip rope.

  All that work would be for naught unless the nets landed over lots of pigeons. The chances that this would happen were dramatically enhanced through the use of any number of inducements, usually in combination with each other. One way to draw the attention of small feeding flocks during spring and fall was to imitate the calls of the males. The hunter could produce the sound in his throat, but only at the risk of making swallowing painful. A more popular approach was to use two blocks of wood with a silk band sandwiched between. This “call” was held in the teeth and blown as one would a blade of grass held taut by the thumbs. An experienced caller would know both how to change the tone by varying the pressure on the blocks and when such a change would be most appropriate.32

  People had long recognized that passenger pigeons were partial to salt. Although scarce in inland locations, salt springs made superb netting grounds. Several were known in Michigan, one of which by the White River was rented out for $300 a season. An even-better-known spring was in Benzie County. Discovered by pigeoners in 1870, it was called simply Salt Spring. Where the mineral-rich water gurgled to the surface, a mound had formed that sloped downward to cover an area of thirty or forty feet. During nesting years, pigeons by the millions congregated on this small plateau. Again the owners allowed netters to use the spot for a fee, but it was worth it as hundreds of birds at a time would be caught.33

  Two pigeoners in Pennsylvania, F.E.S. and his companion, attempted to create their own salt spring to lure birds during the 1880 nesting near Sheffield. They selected a remote site with a deer lick and began clearing the vegetation in a rectangle of sixty by a hundred feet. “The muck was six feet deep, so we put in a good floor of poles and brush to prevent a trip to China.” They spaded the top eight inches of the soil; dried it; shoveled the prepared soil on top of more poles so the bed would have a solid floor; and folded in five barrels of salt, ten pounds of sulfur, and a pint of anise oil. F.E.S. was particularly anxious to avoid the wet beds, or “old mud bed where the net, birds, and all went out of sight, and
the birds were ruined for shipment.” The innovation succeeded admirably and was soon adopted “by all first-class netters.”34

  In Maine, where rye fields were common, pigeon netters often prepped a different kind of baiting area, known as a dry bed, versions of which were used widely throughout pigeon range. The netters removed the stubble from a patch ten or twelve feet wide and fifteen or eighteen feet long. The dirt was leveled and took on the look of a vegetable bed. If no small trees were present, they would be brought from elsewhere and stuck in the ground to serve as perches. Finally, ample seeds would be laid out in rows.35

  Grain of various kinds was often used to bait the pigeons. Corn drew their attention, while finer grain such as buckwheat would keep them feeding to encourage even more birds to alight. A farmer in Wisconsin did not specify what allurement he used, but he said the higher the quality, the more pigeons he would catch. Another pigeoner working in Pennsylvania found that adults had seemingly tired of grain after the squabs hatched, so he was forced to seek a more appealing substitute; angleworms proved to be just what the pigeons ordered, and by switching offerings he caught thousands of birds.36

  Eliza Tucker, who lived near a large pigeon rookery in Richland County, Ohio, left behind several specific recipes for “Pidgion Bate” in papers dated January 10, 1826. One of them calls for the seeds of fennel, anise, and fenugreek pounded fine and boiled with “alwine.” Add two grated potatoes and let the mixture stand covered for twelve hours before placing it as bait. A second recipe calls for boiling sassafras with wheat and provides some critical final details to ensure that the effort to attract birds is successful: “When you make your bed—to bait Pidgions—make it level—and smoothe—don’t spit about it—nor make water—nor handle guns—nor Powder.”37

  As important as any other part of netting was a supply of live passenger pigeons for bait, Judas pigeons if you will. Three categories of pigeons were used: fliers, stool pigeons, and dead ones. Ensconced in the bough house, the netters would keep their eyes to the sky waiting for a flock to approach. At the right moment, the fliers, legs securely fastened by a cord sixty or more feet long, would be tossed into the air to entice flocks of foraging pigeons. Ideally the tethered pigeons would descend straight down without fluttering. Simultaneously, the pigeoner would be working the stool pigeon. The stool device was a stick about three feet tall that was pierced by another rod usually closer to six feet long near its top that pivoted like a teeter-totter. At the exposed end of the cross rod was a padded circular platform. Most often the platform was wood, although one fancy model used the bail of a pail covered with woven string. The bird would be fitted with leather or yarn bootees that were attached to the platform. This footgear could be tightened sufficiently to keep the stoolie from escaping but were of pliant enough material to prevent injury. Connected to the longer rod was yet another cord leading to the netter, so he could raise and lower it. Rapid lowering forced the stool pigeon to hover, making it look as if it were landing.38

  Stool pigeons occupied a unique position in human/pigeon relations. Trappers would keep some number of their catch alive to find a few that would make good stoolies. One netter complained that he and his father nearly exhausted their supply of cooped pigeons before they found suitable birds, while another said that only one out of fifty pigeons would qualify. Males were generally preferred because they were larger and more brightly colored and thus more apt to be seen by passing flocks. A lot of care and attention went into these breathing decoys, and a bird with a good record could command a price of $5 to $10 or even more. The candidates were fed by hand to make them comfortable with people, and they underwent a rigorous vetting. The blindfolded bird in bootees balanced on the pigeoner’s finger began his exercises: “The hand raised slowly and dropped quickly. As the bird drops, [the] wings are outstretched, quickly recovering as the hand stops, and this is repeated a number of times. Every motion is carefully watched and the action of the bird soon determines whether or not it will do for netting purposes.”39

  Passenger pigeon net and stool held by Bob Currin, curator of the Coudersport Historical Society (Pennsylvania). The net was made by Aaron Robinson and was part of the society’s collection when it was incorporated in March 1919. The stool originated with Earl Crane. Photo taken by author with permission of Bob Currin; additional information from Coudersport Historical Society

  One aspect of the stool pigeons that has received a lot of attention is that they were temporarily blinded during the netting season so they would be immune from distractions: the sight of an incoming flock might cause premature movement that would alert the wild birds. The pigeoner would pierce the edge of one lower eyelid with a fine needle and silk thread, then go up and over the head to connect the lower lid of the opposite eye. The two ends of the string would be pulled to ensure the eyes were covered, then twisted together on the crown. One experienced netter said he never had a bird flinch or bleed during the procedure. Over several years the holes would become permanent, like those in human ears punctured to accommodate rings or studs. A few birds remained calm enough as to not need the fixing.40

  Even while eradicating the species, some pigeoners became quite attached to particular stoolies. There was, for instance, the old trapper Jim and his Maggie. W. W. Thompson worked a nesting with Jim in Potter County, Pennsylvania. As one day ended with the capture of about two dozen birds, Jim enthused how well Maggie and the fliers had done in making that last small triumph possible: “There … you have seen as fine working of fliers and stooler, and as pretty a call of distant birds as you will ever see.” Many of the pigeoners would gather in the evening in the basement of the Coudersport Hotel to talk of killing and other things, and to break in new birds. Probably over spirits a few nights later, Jim told Thompson that he was looking to replace Maggie. Many a stoolie had its career cut short by a hawk or other agent, and so Thompson immediately asked if she was dead. “Not that I know of, I hope not,” replied Jim. He explained that he’d let her go, despite Thompson’s offer to buy her a few days earlier for $10. She wasn’t acting right, had a reduced appetite, and lacked the energy that was her wont. Ideally he would have rested her in his coop, to give her a chance to get over what was ailing her. But it might be months before he would be home. “I never kill a bird that does good work for me,” he continued, “but turn them loose, and surely Maggie has earned her freedom … I sincerely hope she will escape the hunters and netters, and live as long as nature allows a pigeon to live.”41

  It is easy to imagine the netters furiously tugging the various cords in front of them like frantic puppeteers. The goal was to replicate the feeding behavior of wild pigeons, whereby birds at the rear of the flock would constantly be leapfrogging to the front to create the familiar wavelike action. Often the airborne pigeons would telegraph their intentions immediately and “lower their heads [to] come down.” At other times the flock might go a half mile before starting to turn to scope out the scene further. If the first try by the netters failed, there would be additional forced ascents and descents until the coveted flock either passed or decided to join the Judas pigeons. To make the beds seem even more hospitable, trappers would seed them with dead pigeons, propped to look like feeding birds. But the incoming pigeons were wary, so everything had to appear copacetic; the tethered birds could not flutter or act in any other alarming way, nor could the bed display blood or feathers.42

  The number of pigeons that could be netted at one time was astounding. At a nesting near Beekmantown, New York, in 1851, there were catches of a hundred dozen and eighty-five dozen each. Netters would not even bother springing their traps if the likely haul was less than forty or fifty dozen. Forty bushels of corn lured a huge flock of pigeons to a trap in Wisconsin, which yielded thirty-five hundred birds in one catch. Perhaps, at least in part, because some of the last big nestings that took place there were so well documented, Michigan was the scene of some eye-popping single-haul totals: 300 dozen at a salt spring; 132 dozen at a bait
bed (that’s what was kept; additional birds escaped); and the precise total of 109 dozen plus eight claimed by Dr. Voorheis in Benzie County. Over fifty thousand pigeons wound up in the nets of one three-man team who worked the 1878 Petoskey nesting.43

  A huge catch could be both a blessing and a bane. The strength of enough birds could lift the net, allowing many to get away. Usually the problem could be handled through fast work. Some netters kept rocks or additional poles by their sides to weigh down the net edges, but most often they leapt out of their makeshift shacks and started killing pigeons. The easiest targets were the birds that poked their heads through the mesh. In Pennsylvania it was popular to slay them by pinching their heads or necks with the thumb and fingers. After a while that would become tiresome, so flat rocks became the killing implements of choice. But clearly rocks weren’t the answer either, so good ol’ American ingenuity came to the fore when James V. Bennett invented, patented, and used a special kind of long-nosed pincer that did not close all the way, but enough to break pigeon necks. This device was not only more restful to the hand than other killing methods, but was said to have “effectually reduced the cruelty at the wholesale butcheries to a minimum.”44

  Another killing approach relied on a different part of the netter’s body: the jaws. While some aimed to bite the pigeon’s skull and crush it, others were more surgical and with practice could dislocate the neck bone without damaging the skull. One pigeoner complained that he chomped down on so many pigeon heads, his teeth became loose. (With the frequency of gum disease in the nineteenth century, that is quite plausible.)45

  But at least one hunter balked at the oral attack: it was obviously a matter of taste. Novice Edwin Haskell shared a bough house with an experienced pigeoner. Their fliers and stoolie performed admirably that day, and a large flock of pigeons swooped in to investigate. At the perfect moment, the trap was sprung and the net scooped up a large percentage of the flock. But with so many struggling birds, Haskell had to launch himself onto the net to prevent the captives from escaping. He discovered, however, that even his weight and strength were insufficient to thwart the desperate pigeons: “We could not let go of the net to kill the birds with our hands—what, then, was to be done? The old pigeon catcher who had sprung the net decided quickly, by setting an example and yelling to me: ‘Bite their heads! Bite their heads! Do you hear?’ ‘Not for all the pigeons in the world,’ I replied. ‘Pshaw! Don’t be squeamish! See how it is done!’ he called out impatiently and went on crushing the skulls … I could kill pigeons with a gun without any compunction. But crushing the skulls of live birds between my teeth! Faugh! It makes me shudder to think of it.”46