Never will you find a particle of dust on their silky plumage, and the
pretty red dots on their wings and tails look always as bright as if
kept in a bandbox. They have, indeed, just reason to be proud of
themselves, for they are very beautiful.
Hunters by scores were after them with bag and gun mercilessly killing
them for the New York millinery houses. The slaughter was terrible,
and made more easy for the hunters by reason of the poor birds flocking
together so closely in such large numbers when they alighted in circles
as is their habit. As they came down in dense droves to get their
food, the red dots on their wing tips almost overlapping those of their
fellows, dozens were slain by a single shot. They were very fond of
the berries of the cedar trees, and after the other foods were gone
they hovered there in great numbers. Here too, the hunters followed
them and made awful havoc in their ranks. One man made the cruel boast
that the winter previous he had killed one thousand cedar-birds for hat
trimmings.
Many of our family had located for a time near the coast, but here too,
on these sunny plains, the death messengers followed us and slew us by
the thousands.
We learned that one bird man handled thirty thousand bird skins that
season.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76