94 FROM BLOMIDON TO SMOKY. 



l)y hour in tlie warm sunlight, or veer and tack 

 close to the waves when chilly fogs come in from 

 Fundy. 



Of the chimney swift I saw little. He was in 

 Cape Breton, but not in large numbers, and one 

 or two farmers and fishermen said that he was a 

 bird that built in hollow trees, and seemed not 

 to know that in these times the chimney is sup- 

 posed to be his chosen home. Night-hawks were 

 abundant, especially in the streets of Baddeck, 

 where, in the twilight, which no lamp-post rises 

 to injure, these swift and silent fliers darted in 

 and out among the heads of the passers by, to the 

 bewilderment of those quick enough to see them. 

 Probably, if I had visited Cape Breton in June 

 or early July, I should have heard the whippoor- 

 will ; for when I whistled his song, the dwellers 

 by sea or inland lake said, " Oh yes, we have 

 that bird. He sings at night." To me, however, 

 he said nothing, nor did the humming-bird con- 

 descend to make its small self known farther 

 north than the Basin of Minas, which is a hun- 

 dred miles or more from Cape Breton. Still, 

 when I asked those who had gardens full of gayly 

 tinted flowers if they knew the humming-bird, 

 they always replied, " Yes, the one with the beau- 

 tiful red throat ; " wliicli made me wonder why 

 they never saw the female ruby-throat with her 

 more modest coloring of green and white. 



