68 Wild Bird Guests 



makes a sound like the whistling of a hawk's 

 wings, and down plunge the frightened song 

 birds to their doom. As they struggle in the net, 

 the fowler comes forth from his hidding place, 

 seizes them roughly, kills them by thrusting a 

 sharpened stick through their heads, and tosses 

 their pathetic little bodies on top of the growing 

 heap on the floor of his dwelling. And there 

 are hundreds of such roccolos, each of them 

 destroying thousands — many of them tens of 

 thousands of birds during a single migration. 

 Is it any wonder that the Italians have no song 

 birds of their own? This terrible trade can be 

 carried on now only because many of the migra- 

 tory birds from other parts of Europe come down 

 through Italy in order to shorten their flight 

 across the Mediterranean. Is it any wonder 

 that ignorant Italian laborers, fresh from a 

 country where this sort of thing is not only 

 permitted but encouraged, should, on landing 

 here, make themselves a set of snares and a wad of 

 bird lime, buy cheap guns, and set out to catch 

 and kill anything and everything that wears 

 feathers? They are not necessarily either bad 

 or lawless. Many of them land in this country 

 which they have been taught is the freest in the 

 world, probably never doubting that they have 

 at least as much right to kill things here as they 



