BIRD MIGRATION IN SOLWAY 195 



promontory of Southerness, that juts out so far into the 

 troubled waters of the Sohvay Firth, where in autumn 

 there is always a great gathering of feathered creatures, 

 some coming, many going. Many of those coming are 

 from the opposite shores of Cumberland, and they have 

 probably begun their journey in Lapland morasses or the 

 great Russian forests. Those going are the bigger 

 proportion, and they are most likely of strictly local origin. 

 Almost invariably they go off in a direction that would 

 take them down channel mid\vay betwixt the Isle of Man 

 and the opposite headlands of England. Although these 

 migrants thus congregated for departure have a certain 

 amount of gregarious adhesion to one another, yet each 

 separate species appears to act independently. Scattered 

 along the shore, their numbers are still being added to, 

 and it requires the minutest attention to see the individual 

 birds arrive one by one. They seem to drop literally 

 from the clouds. Let one's attention be diverted for a 

 moment, next time you look at a particular place there 

 are one, or two, or three birds that were not on the spot 

 last time you glanced at it. If it is difficult to see the 

 coming birds, it is easy enough to see the departing ones. 

 One after another they rise, as the morning wears on, fly 

 upwards and onwards, then they hesitate, fly sideways 

 once or twice, again attempt an upward and onward 

 flight, hesitate again, and down they come once more to 

 earth. Time after time they do this, then comes a flight 

 in which no hesitation occurs and away they go over the 

 sea. By and by only a comparative few are left, and 

 these dawdle about, begin feeding, and this particular 

 migration movement is over for the day, to be renewed 

 as briskly as ever, with fresh accessions to their numbers, 

 on the next favourable morning. But just what constitutes 

 such a morning I am not in a position to say. There is 

 always an indefinable something which is unmistakable 

 to the experienced observer, but that is very difficult to 

 describe. One thing seems tolerably certain, and that is, 

 such migration mornings in autumn always occur when 

 the barometer is stationary, or has just commenced to fall. 

 These shore gatherings that I have described consist almost 



