]\'IGHT-JARS, SWIFTS, AND HUMMING-BIRDS 89 



W«r« *> r. T. Ntwman'] 



SWIFT 



^ common Brkhh bird during the summer mont/u 



[^Birkkamilid 



The swift has great buoyancy of spirits, as is manifested by the wild, exuberant bursts of 

 screaming to which it gives voice as it rushes in small parties down the lanes or alon? the 

 less-frequented thoroughfares of towns as morning breaks or evening falls, and occasionally 

 throughout the day. The greater part of its life is spent upon the wing (indeed, it appears 

 to rest only when incubating or sleeping), and of all the smaller birds it is the most graceful 

 in flight, turning and twisting in fairy mazes high in the heavens for hours at a time. 



The swift chooses for its nesting-place the eaves of houses and holes in church towers, and 

 occasionally a crevice in the face of a quarrj-. The nest is formed of bits of straw, dry grass, 

 and a few feathers, glued together by a secretion of the salivary glands into a compact crust; 

 in this the bird deposits from two to four white eggs. The young, which are hatched naked 

 and blind, never develop down-feathers, but soon become more or less imperfectly clothed in 

 a mass of tiny spines, representing the budding feathers; these give the bird somewhat the 

 appearance of a young hedgehog. 



In adaptation to its remarkable powers of flight, the wing has undergone considerable 

 modification in form, so that it differs from that of all other birds. On the other hand, 

 the legs, being so little required, have diminished considerably, and are remarkable for their 

 smallness — a fact which hampers the bird considerably, should it happen to alight on level 

 ground, for, owing to the great length of the wings, it can arise only with considerable difficulty. 



Nearly allied to the common swift is S.\LVIn's Swift, remarkable on account of its nest, 

 which has been described by Dr. Sharpe as the most wonderful in the world. About 2 feet 

 long and 6 inches in diameter, it looks rather like the sleeve of an old coat than a nest. 

 It is made entirely of the downy seeds of plants, which, floating through the air after the 

 fashion of such seeds, are caught by the birds when on the wing, and, partly felted and 

 partly glued by the salivary secretion, are woven slowly into the characteristic woolly domicile. 

 The site and manner of fixation of the nest are scarcely less wonderful, for it is suspended 

 from the flat surface of some projecting piece of rock on the face of a ciifif, and is thus 

 almost inaccessible; yet, as if to make assurance doubly sure, two entrances are made, one at 



