452 BULLETIN 17 9, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



Wilson (1831) made some interesting calculations as to the number 

 of miles tliat the barn swallow flies in its lifetime ; assuming that it 

 flies at the rate of a mile a minute, for ten hours a day, and lives 

 ten years, it would fly 2,190,000 miles, or over 87 times around the 

 earth ; this is doubtless too high an estimate, but it is impressive, even 

 if greatly discounted. 



The barn swallow is a gentle, harmless creature that attends 

 strictly to its own affairs and seldom troubles its neighbors. Like 

 all birds, it defends its nesting territory against intrusion by phoebes 

 or other swallows that attempt to occupy its nesting site; and it 

 doubtless attempts to drive away predatory birds or mammals that 

 threaten its eggs or young. I once saw a pair of barn swallows 

 chasing and attacking a sharp-shinned hawk that came too near their 

 nesting place ; the hawk retreated, but the swallows followed it high 

 up into the air and it finally tired of their attacks and disappeared. 

 Dr. Townsend (1905) "heard a great outcry among some swallows 

 and found a company of Barn Swallows mobbing a jack rabbit as he 

 bounded off on the upper part of the beach," at Ipswich, Mass. 



Swallows seem to show a playful spirit in many of their activities ; 

 they seem to enjoy the sport of gathering feathers for their nests; 

 many a country boy has tried the fun of throwing feathers into the 

 air and watching the birds scramble for them; the swallow seldom 

 misses its aim, but, if the feather is dropped, it is immediately seized 

 by another bird; often the feather changes "hands" several times 

 before it reaches the barn ; sometimes it seems as if the feather were 

 dropped again and again in a spirit of mere play. 



Swallows are sociable birds and often gather in large mixed 

 flocks — barn, bank, tree, and cliff swallows — and seem to enjoy the 

 sport of flying about and showing their mastery of the air, apparent- 

 ly for the pure joy of flying. Dr. Townsend (1920c) writes: "One 

 September day at sunset a flock many hundreds if not thousands of 

 these birds were alighted on the bushes, fence rails and wires near the 

 waters of Sagamore Pond. They arose with the roar of many wings, 

 and turning first their dark then their white surfaces to the observer, 

 swirled about in irregular groups. Then they all flew close to the 

 water, and every now and then hurled themselves at it so that the 

 quiet surface of the pond was pitted with splashes as from a bom- 

 bardment. Their heads, backs and wings were soused in the water, 

 which they shook off in showers as they arose. At times they would 

 dip lightly several times in succession." 



It is a familiar sight late in summer to observe long lines of swal- 

 lows of several species sitting on the telephone wires along the roads ; 

 here they sit and rest or preen their plumage, stretching one long 

 wing down until its tip reaches beyond the tail as the plumage is 



