spring; there is a great difference in the numbers which visit us from year to year; some seasons they are still very numerous, large flocks passing over the valley morning and evening as they go out from their general breeding-place in quest of food. Some few years ago they selected a wood on a hill, about twenty miles from us, for their spring encampment, making as usual great havoc among the trees and bushes about them; at that time they passed over the valley in its length, large unbroken flocks several miles in extent succeeding each other. There have not been so many here since that season. But the numbers we saw then were nothing to the throngs that visited the valley annually in its earliest history, actually darkening the air as they swept along. It seems their nature to fly rather low, but they have grown more wily now, and often take a high flight; frequently, however, they just graze the hill-tops, and the sportsmen, after observing their usual course of flight morning and evening, go out and station themselves on some hill, shooting the birds as they pass over their heads. The young, or squabs, as they are called, are in great request as a delicacy in spring; they are very tender, of course, and generally very plump, for the little creatures begin to fatten the moment they break through the shell, and are soon in good order. They are not thought very healthy food, however, when eaten repeatedly in succession. There is a tradition that the Indians, at the time of the year when they lived chiefly on these birds, were not in a healthy condition.
Tuesday, 28th.—The great final spring thaw going on. Our winter deluge of snow is sinking into the earth, softening her bosom for the labors of the husbandman, or running off into the swollen streams, toward the sea. Cloudy sky with mist on the
