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directly towards one, but with a graceful curve it manages to thread its way though the labyrinth 

 of pedestrians, horses and vehicles with the greatest ease. After the breeding season, to a large 

 extent it forsakes the streets of Sydney during the day, congregating in large flocks about Hyde 

 and Cook Parks and the Sydney Domain. These flocks may be seen, more particularly during 

 dull weather, from February until July, and in some seasons returning to the city again about 

 dusk, and perching for the night in a sheltered situation on some large building. Before these 

 flocks take up their quarters for the night they may also be seen occasionally perched close 

 together on telegraph wires. At one time I regarded these flocks as pre-migration meetings, but 

 for many years past I have noticed the birds remain here in flocks throughout the winter, and 

 then associate in pairs as the spring ensues. One of their roosting-places is the Custom House, 

 opposite Circular Quay. Throughout June and July I have noticed just about dusk small flocks 

 from five to ten in number constantly arriving and taking up their quarters on a narrow stone 

 ledge near the top of the building. This ledge was only wide enough for the birds to perch 

 parallel along it, but they were perched as close as possible, forming a continuous black line 

 around the facade of the building, which is protected at either end by portion of it being extended 

 at right angles. It is probable that they congregate there too throughout the autumn months, 

 but it is daylight then when I usually pass there. Throughout June and July 1905 I roughly 

 estimated there were five hundred Swallows perched there every night. Of course the birds had 

 long left their quarters when I passed there again each morning, but there is abundant evidence 

 of this particular ledge being resorted to as a roosting place. I did not observe them in the 

 lengthening days of August until the 30th instant, when I observed about sixty birds in the most 

 sheltered part of the building. A strong south-westerly gale was blowing at the time, followed 

 by a wild and boisterous night, shipwrecks with loss of life occurring on the coasts. The following 

 day the gale subsided, and not a Swallow was to be seen when I passed in the evening. At 

 Gerringong I have also disturbed numbers of these birds while roosting at night time in small 

 caves and clefts of rocks facing the sea. 



Mr. A. E. Ivatt wrote me as follows from Glanmire near Bathurst in December, 1896: — 

 " Hiriimio neoxena remained about here all through last winter, a fact I have not noticed before. 

 One was flying about amid the flakes of falling snow, another dipped down on to tbe ice-covering 

 of a large waterhole. I give these instances to show the severity of the weather." 



From Broken Hill in South-western New South Wales, Dr. Macgillivray writes me: — 

 ''Hii'uiido ncoxcna is numerous throughout the winter in this district, provided the season is a 

 good one. They nest in varying situations often in large open hollows of trees, cave-like openings 

 in cliffs and in abandoned prospecting shafts. Last year I found one with young birds forty 

 feet down a well, and when the nest was examined, the mother bird flew twenty feet further 

 down, perching on the sides. At Inkermann Swamp, a large sheet of water on open plain 

 country, I found two nests in an old bucket hanging on a wire fence." 



Mr. E. A. Holden, of North Sydney, sends me the following note : — "The 20th and 21st 

 June, 1907, will long be remembered along the coastal districts of North Queensland, as two of 

 the coldest days on record. Although the maximum and minimum temperatures — approximately 

 60° and 50° were not by any means the lowest recorded north of Townsville, the entire absence 

 of sun, a drizzling rain which was practically sleet, and a cold westerly wind constituted 

 'weather' which in those latitudes was entirely phenomenal. The birds suffered terribly. At 

 Geraldton, the writer saw rows of Swallows (Hirundo neoxena) huddled together at 10 a.m. on the 

 clothes lines, every inch of space being occupied, their feathers fluffed out and evidently in abject 

 misery. At Lucinda Point, Macleay's Kingfishers, Sunbirds, and in fact representatives of all 

 the bright plumaged inhabitants of the great tract of mangrove swamp sought refuge in the 

 buildings and the goods storage sheds ; along the railway line I was informed by the platelayers 



