SWALLOWS 



To the toiler in waders the channel of the river 

 is a rocky and difficult track with abounding pit- 

 falls. Seen from the grassy, restful bank, it is a 

 broad pathway of glass, and many wayfarers pass 

 up and down as men might follow a road. For the 

 Swallows, the course of a stream, free from even 

 the trifling obstruction of tree or hedge, is a verit- 

 able highway. Hither they come from their nest- 

 ing places many miles away, to join the Martins in 

 ceaseless evolutions. Now, one in the pride of its 

 arrow-like flight passes beneath the very arch of the 

 rod; its narrow wings and forked tail so com- 

 pressed that it pierces the air like a sharpened 

 point; now in mid-career, the tail suddenly droops 

 and broadens, and setting impetus at naught, the 

 bird turns at right angles to snap an invisible 

 fly. As a piece of aerial mechanism the Swallow 

 is, perhaps, unequalled by any British bird, not 

 excepting the Swift. Its power is shown not in 

 mere speed, but in the dexterity with which it 

 checks the most headlong flight, and in the ease 

 with which it turns. The Martins, with their 

 shorter wings and tail, turn as a skater might, in 

 a perceptible curve. The conformation of the tail 

 is the secret of the Swallow's flight. It is, in effect, 

 a third wing. Drawn together, and with long 



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