Showing posts with label Tennessee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tennessee. Show all posts

18 May 2014

Big Pigeon Hunt by Professional Hunters in Tennessee

Big Pigeon Hunt by Professional Hunters

Three gentlemen of Philipsburg, Pennsylvania, Messrs. Charles Copelin, Frank Chickering and John J. Swartz, professional pigeon hunters, arrived in this city yesterday from Michigan, having followed a large body of wild pigeons from Grand Rapids, through Indiana and Kentucky to this State. They came by way of Cumberland Gap and are, we believe, the first professional pigeon hunters who ever came South in pursuit of their game.

Mr. Copelin remained in the city last night while the other two gentlemen went down the road to Ooltewah, a short distance from Chattanooga, in two miles of which place the pigeons are said to be roosting in large numbers.

The birds are taken in an enormous net, into which they are decoyed by a stool-pigeon, fastened there for the purpose. When caught, they are sent to New York for market, where they bring, on an average, $2.00 per dozen. It is a paying business in the Northwest, where they are caught in immense numbers. Sixty dozens are sometimes caught at one spring of the net. On an extraordinary occasion a train carried nine tons of these pigeons from Michigan to New York, which so flooded the market as to reduce the price to 75 cents per dozen.

October 26, 1871. Big pigeon hunt. Knoxville Daily Chronicle 2(148): 4.

16 May 2014

Skies at Nashville Hid by Flocks of Wild Pigeons

For two mornings, says the Nashville Gazette of the 25th ult., the skies have been literally hid from the view by immense flocks of wild pigeons — so heavy that they can only be computed by square miles and acres.

November 16, 1844. Wild pigeons. Columbia Democrat 8(30): 3.

Millions of Pigeons Filling Tennessee Woods

Millions of pigeons have been filling the woods for many miles around us, for several weeks past. They have a roost several miles in extent in the edge of Hickman county, and with a torch and club the citizens sally forth at night and bring home their game by meal-bags full. The woods on the dividing ridge between Lickcreek and Garrison Fork of Harpeth were on fire last week to an extent of several miles, supposed to have caught from the light of those engaged in bagging the game. — From Franklin (Tenn.) Herald, Nov. 23rd.

December 20, 1849. [Millions of pigeons filling Tennessee woods.] Oneida Morning Herald 3(42): 2. Also: January 19, 1850 in Sag-Harbor Corrector 28(68): 2.

17 February 2014

A Place for Hunters - Reel Foot Lake

The Nashville Press and Times tells the following;

Persons recently from Reel Foot Lake, in Obion county, West Tennessee, inform us that the assemblage of water fowls at that place is truly marvelous. Several years ago a large and well timbered region, some seven miles long suddenly sank during an earthquake, and the basin immediately filled up with water, forming the present Reel Foot Lake. Almost every species of aquatic bird, great and small, from the tiniest plover to the stately swan, now frequent the spot. Canvas back ducks dance on its surface like great fleets of Lilluptian vessels, wild geese sound their trumpet calls on all sounds, and tall cranes wade lazily about in regiments in search of food. Brants, cormorants, teals, mallards, di-dappers, and snipes darken the air at times with the sweep of their may colored wings. Not unfrequently a magnificent swan, robed in plumes of spotless purity, the very poetry of the wave, floats by the delighted sportsman, and too often falls the victim of his fowling piece. The traffic in these birds is becoming quite an item, and large numbers of them are shipped to Memphis. There is probably not a more attractive spot for fisherman or huntsman in the whole country.

December 29, 1866. A place for hunters. Philadelphia Daily Evening Bulletin 20(226): 3.

03 September 2013

Snipe Hunting at Cane Creek Tennessee in 1876

Ledger Lines

Last night a squad of dry goods men visited Nonconnah bottom in order to initiate four of their number into the mysteries of snipe hunting. The would-be hunters had shot snipe in "holg Hengland," but never did, "you know," in this "blarsted" country. As one of them said to another, "It was a bloody good joke, my lad, but some fellahs don't like it, you know."

Snipe Hunting.

Four New Disciples to this Rare and Ancient Sport.

The old game of snipe hunting was perpetrated last night by four dry goods clerks on four of their associates most successfully. The victims are new comers from the North, only one of them having been here any length of time. They are young men of fine intelligence and have seen much of the world, but it was discovered that there was a deficiency in their education; that they had never been initiated into the mysteries of hunting snipe with a bag. Their friends kindly undertook to instruct them a day or two ago, and succeeded so well that the novices know as much about it now as their teachers.

The plan was originally to take the youths across the river and leave them out over night, but this was abandoned on account of the delicate health of one of them. Everything being ready, the party of eight sallied forth last night in the direction of Elmwood cemetery. Each man carried a large course sack bought at the feed store, or a bundle of fat fagots secured at a wood-yard to make torches. It was explained to the verdant youths that Southern snipe roost in the bayous or ravines, and are, when disturbed, easily attracted by a light. The modus operandi is simply to drive them toward a light and catch them in a wide-mouthed sack as they fly blindly at a flaming torch. When the bag is full tie it up and you have your snipes. It works admirably the first time; we have seen it tried often on greenhorns by school-boys as well as on grown men.

Our party marched with great enthusiasm in a crooked direction about five miles and reached a point near Cane creek, where there is a small bayou. As they approached the snipe ground every voice was lowered to a whisper. They walked as softly as cats. It was a moment of supreme excitement. Every man could feel his heart beat. They crept down into the almost dry bed of the bayou, built two little traps of sticks to hold up the bags, and lighted the torches. A man was placed at each trap and two others held bags open with their hands. These four, of course, were the pupils. The others were to go up half a mile by a roundabout way and drive the snipe down the bayou to the torches and into the bags.

The beaters-in started; but strange to say, when they got off a hundred yards or two they concluded to come back to town. It was only a short distance to the Hernando road. That being reached they returned quicker than they went. This was about the time the theater closed. It was a nipping cold night, but the young men with the bags, traps and torches, like faithful pickets on duty, stood their ground nobly, expecting every moment that the snipe would dash into their faces, like birds seeking refuge on a ship at sea during a storm. But nary a snipe. They became anxious about their friends, thinking something had happened, and went to look for them, making inquiry at a house. Still hopeful and confiding in human nature and snipe, they went back and resumed their posts. But there is a limit to human endurance. Some time between twelve and four o'clock they started back to the city, and on reaching their quarters realized they had been made the victims of a huge practical joke. They all took it rather good naturedly, or tried to, but it will not be the best to speak of snipe in their presence for a few days yet. Next!
November 25, 1876. Memphis Public ledger 23(74): 3.


Ledger Lines

The young dry goods clerks who went "snipe hunting" in Cane creek bottom last Friday night are not in the best of humor over the publication of their adventures which appeared in the Ledger of Saturday.

November 27, 1876. Memphis Public Ledger 23(75): 3.

23 June 2013

Jay Bird Song of Oldtime Tennessee

The Jay-bird Song. February 11, 1858. Marshall County Republican 2(14): 4.

A corn-shocking refrain. Tune, "Jango Malango-ho!"

Dedicated to Col. Henry W. McCorry, of Jackson, Tenn.

By Gen. W.T. Haskell, of Tennessee.

A Jaybird lived on the Forked deer,
Jango Malango-ho!
And a blue-bird lived him neighbor near,
Jango Malango-ho!
And he with the Jay-bird court a Tom-tit,
Jango Malango-ho!
The Blue-bird laughed and the Blue-bird swore,
Jango Malango-ho!
That he never saw such fun before,
Jango Malango-ho!
Says the Jay-bird, "Blue-coat you be done,"
Jango Malango-ho!
"Or I'll stop your way of poking fun,"
Jango Malango-ho!
But the Blue-bird kept on laughing all,
Jango Malango-ho!
Says the Jay-bird, "Go it, have your will,"
Jango Malango-ho!
So the Jay-bird winked at the Blue-bird's sister,
Jango Malango-ho!
And flew to the Paw-paw bush and kissed her,
Jango Malango-ho!
The Blue-bird ripped, and the Blue-bird swore,
Jango Malango-ho!
That he was never no mind before,
Jango Malango-ho!
So he fluttered about, and he could not rest,
Jango Malango-ho!
And he went and spoiled the Jay-birds nest,
Jango Malango-ho!
Then the Jay-bird eloped with the Blue-bird's wife,
Jango Malango-ho!
And it almost took the Blue-bird's life,
Jango Malango-ho!
And all the birds from the Crow to the Wren,
Jango Malango-ho!
They poked their fun at the Blue-bird then,
Jango Malango-ho!
And the Blue-bird moved from the Forked deer,
Jango Malango-ho!
But where the Jay-bird did not hear,
Jango Malango-ho!
For the Blue-bird went to Arkansas,
Jango Malango-ho!
But the Jay-bird still stuck in his craw,
Jango Malango-ho!
And he cried one day with melancholy,
Jango Malango-ho!
Because he did commit the folly,
Jango Malango-ho!
To laugh at the Jay-bird and the Tom-tit,
Jango Malango-ho!
As he was sitting atop the saw-pit,
Jango Malango-ho!
And because he thought it all for the best,
Jango Malango-ho!
To go and spoil the Jay-bird's nest,
Jango Malango-ho!
And he wiped his bill and signed his will,
Jango Malango-ho!
And the will is in the family still,
Jango Malango-ho!
And he left to his son this last request,
Jango Malango-ho!
To never fool with a Jay-bird's nest,
Jango Malango-ho!

In the stage of Nashville, on the way there with McCorry, in December, 1841.

17 February 2010

Affray Between Whooping Crane and Farmer in Historic Tennessee

This is such an interesting and unique account of a Whooping Crane, in this case dealing with a farmer along the Hatchee River in Tennessee, that the original article is presented in its entirety, as first published in the Cincinnati Chronicle in 1832. The crane had probably been injured or wounded and suffered a fate best described by the narrative.

Novel Combat With a Bird.

By a friend residing in Tennessee, we have been politely favored with the following account of a fierce and extraordinary contest, between a man and a bird which occurred on the banks of the Hatcheee, not far distant from Bolivar. The gentleman to whom we are indebted for this narrative, is one of unimpeachable veracity. It is, perhaps, considering the character of the combatants, as unique and bloody a battle, as can be found on record.

"About three months since, a farmer living four or five miles up the Hatchee, was searching on the bottom land of that river, for strayed cattle, when he observed something of unusual appearance pass through the thicket, which he pursued, and soon discovered to be a large bird. The bird attempted to rise, but its wings becoming impeded by the bushes or cane, had no chance to get off that way, and finding itself gained upon by its pursuer, it turned upon him. Somewhat surprised by this unexpected attack, he started to run from it — tript and fell : the bird dashed at him, with wings, beak and claws; and the man found it necessary to turn immediately on his face; but finding himself sorely annoyed by his antagonist, and his knife-blade coming out of the haft, (a shoe-knife,) he scrambled up and ran, the bird pursued but a short distance, stopping at his hat, (which had fallen off in the flight,) on which he commenced a ferocious attack : after which he returned towards the water. A man of more than six feet high, and weighing about 180 lbs. to be beaten by a bird! — this would not do to tell. The blade of the knife was searched for, found, and fitted to the handle, and two sticks cut, one with a fork, to yoke the enemy's neck in his advance, - the other to strike him with. The bird was soon found, and nothing loth, returned to the combat. The onset of the feathered biped was so severe and sudden, that the forked stick missed his neck, and only a sudden movement of the head, probably saved an eye of the man from the bill of the bird. The struggle now became most violent for the man had seized the bird by the neck, while the bird dealt him such blows with his wings, and so tore him with his claws, that a very coarse shirt was literally torn off his back. At last the bird was strangled, and lay apparently lifeless at the feet of the conqueror. — While, however, he was taking breath and rest after his toil, his feathered enemy fell unexpectedly again upon him — having now revived : another struggle ensued — the coup de col was resorted to a second time, with success; and the bird being again strangled, his adversary gnawed his windpipe in two, having lost his knife, and being completely tired of his contest.

"This is an interesting fact to ornithologists, and the curious generally. The bird was purely white, except at the head of the wings — head bald — a bunch of feathers over the rump — bill 9 or 10 inches long - eight feet high — wings 9 feet from tip to tip — legs and feet resembling a turkey's, but stout — large knees and thighs — its cry very harsh, resembling as my informant says, that of a jack ass! He declares 'its braying was right frightful.' I have conversed with several persons who saw the bird after it was dead one of whom has brought me several feathers, which are bright and beautiful, and promised me a wing, both of which have been preserved; but the body, unfortunately, was left for the hogs to destroy. The body and face of the man were examined two months after the battle, by a respectable physician of this place, and he asserts that the wounds strongly corroborated the story. I have no doubt of the facts. The bird was undoubtedly the whooping crane.

"Bolivar Ten., July 10, 1832."
Included with the article was the account for the whooping crane, Grus Americana as published in the Encyclopedia Americana.