Wood-Folk Talk
By J. ALLISON ATWOOD
WHY BIRDS MIGRATE
There are very few people who really know why birds migrate—that is, fly south in the fall, and then return to us in the springtime. Some say that they cannot stand the cold, and so escape it by going south where it is warm all winter. Others believe that at the end of summer the birds have eaten all their food, so they have to go to some locality where the insects and other dainties have not all been devoured. Both of these explanations seem reasonable until one has learned the real cause.
A great many years ago, hundreds and hundreds in fact, birds stayed all year round in the same place they had built their nests, and, no doubt, they would do so now if they had their choice. But as it is, they no sooner feel the first breath of winter than they hurry away as if pursued by some enemy. And that they have some reason to fear, I’m sure you will agree when you have heard it.
It was a very cold winter. Most of the birds had to move out of their summer homes. Brown-thrasher and Song-sparrow had been forced to give up their thickets, all the undergrowth being dead. Thereupon the former grumbled much because Flicker was so well sheltered from the cold. In the summer time, Thrasher had been among the first to make fun of the carpenter for building such a peculiar house, but now he looked longingly at him as he disappeared within the comfortable-looking hollow limb. Kingfisher, too, was regarded with more respect as he took shelter in the long tunnel which he had made during the previous summer. But as for those most unfortunate birds who had built on the ground, as Bobolink and Meadowlark, they, indeed, were very much put out, for their houses were entirely covered with snow. Still, it is very probable that everyone would have stayed north all winter had not something far more dreadful occurred.
On the evening of the winter’s heaviest storm, the birds had all gathered under an evergreen to sleep. Among them were Flicker and Kingfisher, for they, much to Thrasher’s delight, had been driven from their homes on the day before by those improvident fellows, Squirrel and Muskrat, who thus obtained houses far better than any they could have built for themselves. The wind was whistling frightfully, and each one had his head tucked under his wing for warmth. Suddenly Bobolink stood upright and peered out anxiously into the darkness. His keen ear had caught some other sound than the harsh wind and spluttering snow. In an instant Bobolink was alert. Then he saw something that, even cold as he was, made him shiver. Before him, gliding on noiseless wing, was a gigantic white object. Its large yellow eyes gleamed terribly in the dark, and Bobolink was all but paralyzed with fear. Then, in desperation, he called out loud enough to wake his neighbors. They, too, saw the dim white form and scattered like leaves before the wind, just as the huge monster swooped down among them. Barn-swallow, in his haste to get away, caught his tail on a twig and made a great tear right in the middle of it. So badly was it torn that the feathers have never grown in properly, as we can see even to this day. But he was too frightened then even to know it.
For hours afterwards the terrified birds hid as best they might in the dark woods. Then, when at length, he thought the danger past, Bobolink gave a chirp, as if to let his whereabouts be known. After a time the other folks answered his call, and in this way they soon collected, every one of them still trembling with fear. Then, although it was midnight, they prepared to flee. So dark was it that there would have been great danger of getting lost had not Bobolink suggested that they keep up chirping as they flew, and in this way be able to hold together.
In such a manner and at such a time the birds made their first journey south. When once they reached the warmer lands they scattered, for they had learned that to remain in flocks was dangerous. But what was more important, they had learned that they could migrate at night, and that it was the safest way, as then they could not be seen by their enemies.