The duck was a domesticated bird, but the incident is not without interest; the homing faculty was clearly exhibited, but it was not infallible; the bird made a mistake. So, inexperienced young birds, travelling instinctively by orientation may, and do, make mistakes.

Human beings, in varying degree, possess a sense of direction, and some a wonderful power of finding their way in strange places; it is most marked amongst those men we choose to call uncivilised, who, indeed, live in closer touch with nature than those of us who depend so much on compass, map, road, train and tram; we, as path-finders, are degenerate. Middendorf marvelled at the powers of the Samoyeds, but when he questioned them was met by blank surprise, and the cross-question—"How does the little Arctic fox find its way aright on the great Tundra?"

In addition to this instinctive power, the bird has eyes and brain. We can afford to put aside as purely speculative Middendorf's suggestion that the bird is impelled or dragged by magnetic force, but we cannot deny that it uses its eyes and that it has a wonderful memory; its second journey will be easier than the first, for it will recognise landmarks, just as the drake recognised something familiar when it neared home. Sight, however, cannot be always necessary, for, at the Kentish Knock Lightship, Mr Eagle Clarke noticed that birds flew so low along the water that they could not possibly have seen their way.

It is purely speculative to say that the young bird which travels alone, for it seems certain that many young do travel unguided on their first journey, has an inherited memory of the actual route to be followed, but that it has an hereditary sense of direction, or an hereditary impulse to travel in a certain direction, is quite another matter. The sea, to the young bird, may be a barrier; it may wander coastwise and be lost, or, if this is the best way, find itself at the desired haven. If the shortest and quickest way is across the ocean, the young bird may brave the perils and succeed, or on this trackless waste it may wander till it sinks to the waves and be added to the long list of failures.

Certain species summer in Greenland either in the same areas or in areas comparatively near to one another; some of these travel in autumn south-east, and winter in Europe or Africa, and others go south-west into the States or South America. Most of these are distinctly eastern or western forms, but occasionally American birds are met with in Europe, and European in America. Probably at the start these stragglers joined the wrong band, and travelled for company and unconsciously by the wrong route. Birds drifted to leeward may find companions of quite an alien tribe; others, wind-swept in this way, may travel alone to new lands. A few pelagic South Pacific and South Atlantic petrels and other birds have reached Europe from time to time, but theirs is an error of too wide nomadic wandering. The wonder is not that these stragglers do turn up, but that so few are noticed; probably the frequent mistakes made by inexperienced or even experienced birds are speedily rectified by nature; failure to find food or exhaustion spells death.

Mr C. Dixon emphatically declares that each party of young birds is accompanied by one or more older ones to act as guides—"The many winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home." This is as emphatically denied by other observers. Probably there is no regular rule for many species, as there certainly is not for swallows, in which the old and young birds can be easily distinguished. I have seen bands trailing south in autumn in which all the birds were immature, and others in which a number of young were accompanied by a few mature birds, though, certainly, these old birds did not appear to lead. Another assertion, that the old and young do not even travel by the same route rather supports the idea that the young birds find their way simply by a sense of direction, a sense liable to blunder, whilst the old birds travel by the perfected or best route which their experience has taught them. Martorelli wisely asserts that orientation is not infallible, but develops with age.

Mach-Bruer attempted to localise this sense of direction in the semicircular canals of the ear, which are so highly developed in birds, but Dr Allen contends that the theory has been refuted by experiments on pigeons. Möbius urged that birds were guided in their journey by the direction of the roll of the waves; Newton replies that though this may be a constant direction in certain parts of the Pacific, it is most inconstant in the stormy North Atlantic [(37)].

There is a very generally accepted idea that birds prefer to travel with the wind striking them diagonally—the "beam-wind theory," a theory, which so far as I can see, has absolutely no sound foundation. When on the Kentish Knock Lightship, Mr Eagle Clarke noticed, on a bad day, east to west migrants hurrying past "as if to avoid as much as possible the effects of the high-beam wind."

Mr A. H. Clark worked out the long oversea and overland course followed by the American golden plover, and showed to his own satisfaction that the birds always travelled at right angles to the prevailing winds; therefore, he argued, they were guided by the beam-winds; always keeping the wind on their flanks led them aright [(14)]. He says that if they fly at 100 miles per hour, with a beam-wind of 30 miles per hour, they will reach a spot 100 miles from whence they started, but 30 miles to leeward of a line drawn at right angles to the wind. Thus, if they rely upon the wind, their course is more or less diagonally across it according to its strength. He maps out the supposed route according to prevailing winds, but fails to notice that the very route he maps may be caused simply by the leeward drift when flying on winds which are not with them. One portion of the journey is enough to illustrate what I mean. From Labrador to the east of Bermuda the birds fly south-east, so, he argues, as to cross the south-west wind at right angles. But supposing the birds headed due south, meeting the south-west wind on their right front, they would of necessity, if the wind was strong, drift away to the east. It is improbable that they actually aim to strike the Bermudas, for it is only during certain weather conditions that they visit these islands. In favourable weather the birds do not touch the Bermudas, but continue their flight direct to South America.

The leeward drift of birds in a strong beam-wind may be noticed during ordinary flight; it has occasioned one of the most remarkable of Gätke's statements. Referring to hooded crows, he says—"To escape the disagreeable experience of having the wind (south-east) blowing through their plumage obliquely from behind, they turn their body southward, and appear to be flying in this direction. This, however, is not the case. They do not make the least forward progress to the south, but their flight is continued in as exactly a westerly course, and with the same speed, as though the birds were moving under favourable conditions straight forwards, i.e., in the direction of the long axis of the bodies. This is shown in the most convincing manner by such bands as happen to pass immediately over the head of the observer.