374 ENGLISH BIRD LIFE 



part the nests are closely clustered; some built 

 together with a common dividing wall. Below, in 

 the golden straw, the pigs lie lazily and ubiquitous 

 poultry search every joint in the stones for unnoted 

 grain. On the roof, tiled with broad grey flags, 

 the pigeons — Blue Rocks, true to the ancestral type 

 of the sea-caves — coo with drooping tails and swell- 

 ing throats around their mates. And in the midst 

 of all, part of the farmyard domesticity, the Martins 

 come and go like bees; now one hovers or clings 

 to the nest-side, now a white chubby breast is seen 

 at a hole and darts down with such headlong force 

 that one fears it will strike the ground; and all 

 around, the air is filled with a medley of sweet 

 notes, rising and falling, and never for a moment 

 at rest. 



Rise early as one will the Martins are already 

 awake. The midsummer day is not long enough 

 for them, and all through the night, faint twitter- 

 ings come from the nests. In the early April days, 

 on their first arrival, they are usually seen soaring 

 high, singly or in pairs. These birds are the fore- 

 runners of the army, but the numbers are soon 

 augmented and the business of the season begins. 

 The birds are in fine plumage, having moulted in 

 their winter quarters, and from this time forward 

 they are never idle. Old nests must be repaired 

 and lined with soft curling feathers, and new ones 

 built. By the lane side is a little pond, and here 

 the Martins come to collect the mud-pellets with 

 which, as with tiny bricks, they build up the 

 rounded walls of their dwelling. Standing 

 almost in the water, they take up an almost imper- 



