'BIRD NOTES'—TREE SWALLOWS
Photographed from nature by Frank M. Chapman
Bobolinks also arrive in the marsh; small parties pass over, and their pink is often in the air. It is now 5.30 P. M. More Eaves come, drink, and move on. We move, too, following them through the high spartina until we see in the distance an oasis of black dots in the yellow sea of grasses. While we are still advancing, a Pigeon Hawk darts over our heads, going straight for the oasis. In less than no time the black dots take wing and up goes the whole congregation of Eaves, up, up, scattering to all winds, and disappearing for several minutes. But the disturber is gone, and the frightened birds find courage to return and sit down again on their favorite weeds, from which they can overlook the marsh for miles around.
The Bobolinks, for whose special benefit the Hawk's visit was this time meant, are still hovering in the air, but new troops arrive, and after some aimless drifting all settle down to roost amongst the grasses.
The sun is down now, and perfect streams of Swallows are flowing from all sides toward the oasis in the center. This is the moment when the Whitebreasts, who for the last hour have been congregating on the lotus of the neighboring lakes, mingle with the passing Eaves and accompany them to the common roost. The Roughwings, too, have left their haunts and are appearing in the marsh.
The light of day is waning fast, and the smoky air gets dim and misty. The assembled Eaves are now seen to rise in clouds from their oasis, mix their forces with the invading army, and the grandest spectacle ensues. At first it looks as if confusion reigned, but soon the hosts of fleet-winged birds no longer whirl aimlessly through space. All mass and muster, and perform strange evolutions with amazing swiftness and precision. Now we see them scattering and spreading over the whole area on which they intend to roost, apparently to make sure that no danger lurks beneath the grasses. Here they come, skimming, almost touching, the spartina, pass by, and speed onward until lost to sight for a few moments, when all at once a great cloud of moving specks is visible in the distant sky. The specks are Swallows, and the cloud has life; it moves, it rolls, it swells, it comes, it breaks and, like a torrent of wing-borne arrows, darts upon us, scattering and spreading out, as it descends for another wild dash low over the spartina.
The same wonderful maneuvers repeat themselves as long as the evening twilight lasts, and, though with each descent the cloud does shrink in size, it does not cease to rise again until black night has fully settled down, and even after dark small droves of bewildered birds rush madly by our side. Being well within the range of the now settled birds, we cannot go away without disturbing some in their repose; although they are dispersed over a large area, every now and then one will be seen to scamper out and vanish in the darkness.
YOUNG EUROPEAN MARTINS AND NEST
Photographed from nature by "C. R."