A Book on Birds 



above, somewhere between me and the 

 stars, they sweep onward in absolute 

 silence amidst the encircling gloom. 



And then — most strange in this whole 

 matter — the ones that choose the night 

 without exception for the journey are the 

 very smallest in size and those most 

 delicately formed — the beautiful little Wood 

 Warblers, many varieties of which may be 

 found in large numbers almost any sunlit 

 morning just now, in the immediate vicinity 

 of my own country town, or even in the 

 branches that overhang its very streets. 



For be it remembered — though most 

 birds of passage do fly all night — they cry 

 a halt with each morning as it dawns, that 

 they may rest and feed in turn all day. 



Twenty of the species known as the Blue- 

 winged Warbler were counted by me in one 

 big buttonwood tree a mile or so away 

 one morning — regaling themselves, with 

 alert eyes and incessant hopping from twig 

 to twig, upon some insect they seemed to 

 find in this sort of tree alone; for although 

 some were met with on each one of a dozen 



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