AUTUMN, 1912 293 



six weeks the impulse to fly south, the "mighty breath, 

 whicli in a powerful language, felt not heard, instructs 

 the fowls of heaven," must have been worrying the 

 brains of those two overworked little martins. 



But again the cxjx!cted did not happen; the parents 

 did not forsake their young, and on two occasions, one 

 on October 25, the other five days later, they tried their 

 best to get the young out. They came to the nest with 

 flies a dozen times a minute, and instead of delivering 

 the food into the open mouths, they would flutter a 

 moment with beaks just out of reach, then drop off to 

 circle round and repeat the action. All these enticing 

 arts were of no avail; the young had not the strength 

 or spirit to launch themselves on the air, otherwise they 

 would have been saved. 



On the following day, October 31, the weather was 

 exceptionally bad ; it was cold, with a strong wind, and 

 rained heavily all day: the call of the young now 

 sounded feebler from the nest, and the eager little black, 

 flat heads and white throats were no longer thrust out. 

 Yet the old birds still laboured faithfully to find them 

 food, only on this last day they did not go far in search 

 of provender. They were too anxious, or in some way 

 conscious, of the failing strength of the young; they 

 hawked after scarce flies up and down the street, 

 always near the nest, constantly giving themselves that 

 quick little shake by means of which the swallow throws 

 the rain off his feathers. There was another notice- 

 able change in them: at intervals of about a quarter 

 of an hour one or both of the birds would fly into the 



