CHAPTER III 



POLICEMEN OF THE AIR 



Sometimes the linnet piped his song: 

 Sometimes the throstle whistled strong: 

 Sometimes the sparrowhawh, wheel'd along, 

 Hush'd all the groves from fear of wrong. 



— Tennyson. 



NOWHERE in the entire range of life is 

 there a greater wealth of romance than in 

 the police systems of the bird world. And the 

 companionship of those people whose lives are 

 spent among the whirl of city streets, I especially 

 desire, that they may accompany me to the moun- 

 tain-side, across treeless prairies, among the hedge 

 rows, across the grain fields, through the deep for- 

 ests, and lastly to the high cliffs, that we may to- 

 gether be students of nature, and learn that "the 

 world is perfect everywhere, when still unblemished 

 by man's ruthless hand." 



Up to the present time in man's civilisation it 

 has been necessary for him to have a police power 

 of some kind in all territory where he expects to 

 remain in safety. The same is true in the bird 



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