After strolling through the town, which presented little worth recording, I again returned to the boat, which proceeded on its way.  I had frequently heard and read of those vast flocks of wild pigeons which periodically pursue their flight to milder latitudes:  and, as the boat was now approaching the centre of the state of Ohio, where myriads of these birds were seen the year before, I anxiously watched the horizon for their appearance.  For several days, however, I was doomed to disappointment, and gave it up in despair; but a day or two after, when in the vicinity of the Tuscarawas river, it being about noon, the helmsman suddenly called out, “A field of pigeons.”  This announcement called all hands to the promenade deck of the packet.  Looking in the direction indicated, a heavy black cloud appeared in the far horizon; this seemed to extend from right to left, and was so dense that the novices amongst us at once pronounced it, either a mistake or a hoax.  The helmsman declared that it was neither, and that we should soon be convinced of it.  The cloud seemed now gradually and visibly to spread; in truth, the whole firmament in that direction was totally obscured.  By this time a general rummage had commenced in the boat for fire-arms; the captain hailed the driver on the towing path, who pulled up, and the boat was moored by the canal side.  We now landed, intending to replenish the larder of the vessel with what, to most of the passengers, was a rare treat.  On the left bank of the canal, and on the banks of the river, which here ran parallel with it, was a forest of gigantic trees; and, as the birds were evidently making in that direction, it was decided that all those who wished to take part in the expected sport, should proceed, and wait their passing this spot, in the hope that some would settle on the branches of the trees.  Accordingly, after crossing the river by a rude bridge, which was very nearly half a quarter of a mile in length, we reached the intended spot after wading up to our knees in a swamp or turbary, and getting miserably bemauled by the briars and cane vines.  We had not to wait long; the birds, wearied by a long flight, were evidently attracted by the favourable resting-place, and in less than a quarter of an hour, the air was darkened with the hosts hovering over our heads; the sound of their wings defies description, those of my readers who remember the peculiar noise made by a single pigeon in its flight, may form a faint idea by multiplying the sound a million times.  It in fact filled the air, and produced a startling effect.  Thousands of the birds alighted on the trees, the branches of which snapped and crackled fearfully under the superincumbent load; those of our party who were armed, continued to fire and load as fast as they possibly could.  They brought hundreds to the ground, but still, through weariness, perhaps, the rest kept their station on the branches, and did not appear to heed the attack much—­shifting