The theories of C. L. Brehm [(7)] and Marek that birds are living barometers, foretelling by intuition the changes of barometric pressure, may be dismissed as purely speculative. That birds begin their journeys during particular barometric conditions is certain, but what they know of forth-coming weather conditions is guess-work.
[CHAPTER III]
ROUTES
The migrating bird, when passing between the breeding home and the winter quarters, travels by what is termed its Route. The definition of the route has caused more controversy than perhaps any other incident of migration; the chief point at issue is whether the bird uses a particular high road, along which all its fellows from the same area travel, or if all birds move in what has been called a "Broad Front." Ornithologists have been, and to some extent still are, divided into two camps, one upholding defined routes and the other the extended or broad front movement.
After all the difference is merely one of degree. Even the widest notion of the broad front, that of Gätke, who insisted, as dogmatically as he did on most points, that the width or breadth of the migrating host corresponded with the extent of the breeding range [(29)], is of a route, bounded on the one hand by the northern or eastern and on the other by the southern or western lines of latitude or longitude which marked the limits of the range. The idea of a route may be narrowed down to the extent of a wide river valley, or to a fly-line represented on a map by a ruled line, which passes over certain ascertained places. The absurdity of Gätke's arguments are proved by the study of his truly remarkable book. According to him the island of Heligoland was only remarkable in that it possessed an observer, himself, who saw marvels unobserved elsewhere, though the same number of birds were every year passing over any particular spot in an area which, for many species, must have been many degrees in extent.
Had not so much weight been placed upon, and so many arguments based on Gätke's extraordinary statements by, unfortunately, many of our leading British ornithologists, his theories might have been ignored. Unfortunately he is looked upon as an authority, even an oracle, whereas, as Dr Allen pointed out, on many points which he treats with great positiveness his knowledge is obviously as limited as the little field which was the scene of his life-long labours [(2)]. Glibly he tells of hooded crows "in never-ending swarms of hundreds of thousands" passing across and for many miles on either side of the island; of "every square foot of the island" teeming with goldcrests, and of "dark autumn nights" when "the sky is often completely obscured" by the migrants, which pass thousands of feet overhead. How did he observe the obscured sky? Indeed he again and again declares that migration passes unseen yet calculates the numbers observed on the darkest nights; the illumination of the lighthouse could not be sufficient to enable him to even guess at the numbers he mentions. After stating that "the whole vault of heaven was literally filled to a height of several thousand feet with these visitors from the regions of the far North," and that a certain east to west passage extended from the Faroes to Hanover, he concludes that "the view—that migrants follow the direction of ocean coasts, the drainage areas of rivers, or depressions of valleys as fixed routes of migration can hardly be maintained."
As emphatically he maintains that most observable migration over Heligoland is due east to west or west to east, though the birdstuffer Aeuckens, who supplied him with much of his information, told Seebohm that it was north-east in spring and south-west in autumn [(45)]. Is it not perfectly evident that the geographical position of Heligoland makes it a convenient resting place for large numbers of migrants, for it is certainly true that large numbers are observed there, which pass southward and westward along the Baltic, crossing Schleswig-Holstein and the mouth of the Elbe, or coast south along Denmark, and cross the Elbe diagonally, en route for the Dutch and French coasts and to a lesser extent the south-east coasts of Britain?
Coasting undoubtedly exists; birds, day migrants especially, may be observed following coast-lines in steady flight, though a mile or less inland no passage is visible. On the North Norfolk coast I have seen little parties of swallows passing along the shore in spring, coasting slowly but steadily from east to west. All day long and almost every day for more than a week this steady flight was continued, though I never saw any passing within sight more than a few yards out at sea, nor any at all more than a few hundred yards inland. Evidence which cannot be refuted shows that this habit of coasting is general, though a deeply indented bay, an estuary or strait, is usually crossed, and by no means always at the narrowest point. The same careful observations prove that both narrow and wide river valleys are followed by migrating birds in greater numbers than are ever observed passing beyond the limits of these valleys.