This continues for an hour to an hour and a half, a cloudy evening hastening their actions, when their flight becomes more direct. Few birds pause to feed, but hurry on to the roosting places, and as the light fades the last birds rush through the gloom with arrowy speed and directness. The birds pass in straggling flocks, and periods of abundance are succeeded by intervals of scarcity, as though the individuals which had been associated during the day were journeying home together.
Thus the Swallow’s evening flight may be observed throughout the region surrounding the marshes; even in New York city they may be seen feeding above the houses, and after sunset flocks of swift-flying birds are often confused by the telegraph wires, which, however, their dexterity of wing permits them to pass without serious harm.
In the marshes the first birds are seen about two hours before sunset. Many follow the course of the river, and if one be at its border splash after splash is heard as the birds dip lightly into the water, followed by soft fluffs as arising from the stream they shake their plumage. Soon the air is filled with Swallows, all streaming toward the roost with increasing swiftness.
Many birds, however, as though waiting for some tardy comrades, rest by the way, perching on telegraph wires should they cross the marsh, or when these are wanting, on the tips of the reeds. They invariably face the wind, and when it is from the west the last rays of the sun striking their white breasts make them appear like snowy flowers crowning the reeds. Suddenly, with a rush, they whirl onward to the roost.
Thus far the exact location of this roost has defied my search. I have, however, roughly defined the bounds of that section of the marsh in which it is placed by observation stands at which the Swallows flew north and south respectively, and somewhere between the two I still hope to discover the Swallows’ sleeping haunts.
The following description of their departure from the marshes in the morning is abstracted from my journal, under date of August 15, 1886: “A cool, clear morning, with a light northwesterly wind. I reached the marshes shortly before five o’clock, when they appeared to be deserted, not a Swallow being in sight. At two minutes of five the first birds were observed, then flock after flock they came until at five the air was filled with hurrying forms, flying at varying altitudes toward the north.
“Suddenly, from the meadows near me there arose a vast cloud of Swallows, doubtless birds which had come from farther south in the marsh before my arrival. Steadily they mounted upward, until having attained a height where with a strong glass they appeared faint dots against the sky, they slowly winged their way northward.
“All the time the meadows were alive with birds feeding in every direction; gradually they passed to the north, when another huge flock arose from the marsh, and after gaining an immense height disappeared, this time toward the east.
49. Tree Swallows in tree.