76 



FRIENDS OF OUR FORESTS 



not the purpose of keeping the individ- 

 uals of the assemblage in touch with each 

 other and with the flock as a unit. In a 

 few moments silence again reigns where 

 all was commotion and activity. The 

 birds have passed on their seemingly aim- 

 less course. 



If the observer would learn the solu- 

 tion of the mystery of the birds' evident 

 hurry, he has only to follow them for a 

 time, when he will find that, however er- 

 ratic may seem the course of individual 

 members of the flock, the flock as a whole 

 is steering a tolerably straight course 

 southward. In other words, he is in the 

 midst of a flock of birds en route to their 

 winter quarters and, in order to econo- 

 mize time, feeding as they go. This, 

 however, is not the only way warblers 

 migrate, nor is it the most important, 

 since the greater part of the long journey 

 of many is performed by night. 



Any one w'ith good ears has only to 

 listen on a clear, frosty night in fall to 

 hear hundreds of warblers and other 

 birds as they flit by, a few hundred yards 

 above the earth, the call notes coming in- 

 cessantly out of the darkness. The route 

 of these flying hosts often carries them 

 above cities, and one cannot be insensible 

 to the incongruity between his surround- 

 ings and the woodland scenes, so vividly 

 brought to mind by the lisping notes com- 

 ing from the darkness overhead. The 

 subject of migration has not inspired our 

 poets so often as might be expected, but 

 Longfellow, in his "Birds of Passage," 

 gives us the following wonderfully sug- 

 gestive lines : 



But the night is fair, 



And everywhere 



A warm, soft vapor fills the air, 



.\nd distant sounds seem near ; 

 And above, in the light 

 Of the star-lit night, 

 Swift birds of passage wing their flight, 



Througli the dewy atmosphere. 



I hear the beat 



Of their pinions fleet, 



As from the land of snow and sleet 



They seek a southern lea. 

 I hear the cry 

 Of their voices high, 

 Falling dreamily through the sky, 



But their forms I cannot see. 



Probably because insects constitute such 

 an important part of their food, warblers, 



as a rule, migrate early in fall and late in 

 spring. It is true that in fall many linger 

 till frosts nip the vegetation ; but insects 

 are abroad even later than this, and it is 

 only necessary to watch these late mi- 

 grants for a short time to learn that their 

 search for insects is being well rewarded. 

 Only a few species come north early 

 in spring, the great bulk of the warblers 

 evidently having been taught by bitter ex- 

 perience that in spring, at least, it is not 

 the early bird that finds most worms or 

 finds them easiest. 



FI.OCKING OF SMALL BIRDS 



Just why small birds, when migrating, 

 congregate in large flocks and troop 

 through the woodlands has often been the 

 subject of speculation. Juncos, several 

 species of sparrows, woodpeckers, nut- 

 hatches, chickadees, creepers, and, above 

 all, warblers, combine to swell the ranks 

 of these migrating companies. As many 

 as a dozen or more species of warblers 

 may often be seen in one flock, which, in 

 addition, may include 200 or 300 indi- 

 viduals, representing a number of fam- 

 ilies whose tastes and habits in every-day 

 life differ very widely. 



Yet here are these incongruous ele- 

 ments mingling together on terms of the 

 utmost friendliness. Since birds are so- 

 ciable beings, except during the short 

 time when family cares prompt to jealous 

 vigilance, sociability alone may be the 

 bond of union ; added, however, to the 

 kindly feeling of companionship prob- 

 ably is a feeling of increased security 

 which comes from numbers. Certainly 

 no enemy can approach one of these bird 

 assemblages without being spied by at 

 least one pair of vigilant eyes, w^hen the 

 flock is immediately notified by a few 

 sharp chirps — warning for every indi- 

 vidual to seek safety in flight or to scurry 

 to cover. 



WHAT MVSTKKIOUS SENSE GUIDES TIIKM 

 IN THEIR LONG JOURNEYS? 



In what manner warblers migrate — 

 that is, how they are guided on their long 

 j()urne\'s — is a moot question. Little 

 mystery attaches to their ability to find 

 their way north or south in daylight, 

 since the recognizable landmarks are 



