ing purposes. Was the act an act of judgment, or simply an unreasoning im- 

 pulse, like so much else in the lives of the wild creatures? 



In the choice of nesting material the swift shows no change of habit. She 

 still snips the small dry twigs from the tree tops and glues them 

 together, and to the side of the chimney, with her own glue. The 

 soot is a new obstacle in her way, and she does not yet seem to have 

 learned to overcome it, as the rains often loosen it and cause her nest 

 to fall to the bottom. She has a pretty way of trying to frighten you oflf 

 when your head suddenly darkens the opening above her. At such times she 

 leaves the nest and clings to the side of the chimney near it. Then, slowly 

 raising her wings, she suddenly springs out from the wall and back again, 

 making as loud a drumming with her wings in the passage as she is capable 

 of. If this does not frighten you away, she repeats it three or four times. If 

 your face still hovers above her, she remains quiet and watches you. 



What a creature of the air this bird is, never touching the ground, so far 

 as I know, and never tasting earthly food ! The swallow does peich now and 

 then and descend to the ground for nesting material ; but the swift, I have rea- 

 son to believe, even outrides the summer storms, facing them on steady wing, 

 high in air. The twigs for her nest she gathers on the wing, sweeping along 

 like children at a "merry-go-round" who try to seize a ring, or to do some 

 other feat, as they pass a given point. If the swift misses the twig, or it fails 

 to yield to her the first time, she tries again and again, each time making 

 a wide circuit, as if to tame and train her steed a little and bring him up more 

 squarely to the mark next time. 



The swift is a stifif flyer; there appear to be no joints in her wings; she 

 suggests something made of wires or of steel; yet the air of frolic and of 

 superabundance of wing power is more marked with her than with any other 

 of our birds. Her feeding and the twig-gathering seem like asides in a life 

 of endless play. Several times both spring and fall I have seen swifts gather 

 m immense numbers toward nightfall, to take refuge in large unused chim- 

 ney stacks. At such times they seem to be coming together for some aerial 

 festival or grand celebration ; and, as if bent upon a final effort to work off 

 some of their superabundant wing power before settling down for the night, 

 they circle and circle high above the chimney top, a great cloud of them, 

 drifting this way and that, all in high spirits and chippering as they fly. Their 

 numbers constantly increase as other members of the clan come dashing in 

 from all points of the compass. They seem to materialize out of empty air on 

 all sides of the chippering, whirling ring. For an hour or more this assem- 

 bling of the clan and this flight festival go on. The birds must gather in from 

 whole counties, or from half a State. They have been on the wing all day, 

 and yet now they seem as tireless as the wind, and as if unable to curb their 

 powers. 



Last fall they gathered in this way and took refuge for the night in a 



26 



