AUTUMN, 1<J12 



-VJ 



in the old birds remains dominant and holds tlie migra- 

 tory impulse in check or in abeyance; that only when 

 the insistent cry ceases and the young birds grow ccjld 

 the release comes and the "mighty breath" blows upon 

 and bears them away southward irresisting as a ball 

 of thistledown carried by the air. 



I see that Dixon, in his Migration of Birds (1897), 

 page 112, says that he knew of a case in which a pair 

 of barn swallows abandoned their young in the early 

 days of November when they were almost able to take 

 care of themselves, whether in or out of the nest he 

 does not say. Nor does he state that the case came 

 directly under his ow^n observation; if the young were 

 in the nest it may be they were dead before the parent 

 birds set out on their journey. It is possible that such 

 cases do occur from time to time and have been ob- 

 served, yet they may be exceptional cases. We know 

 that a few swallows do linger on with us into the depth 

 of winter each year; that they become torpid with cold, 

 and that occasionally one does survive until the follow- 

 ing spring. These rare instances gave rise to the belief 

 that swallows hibernate regularly, which was held by 

 serious naturalists down to the early nineteenth century: 

 but we now know that these cases of torpid birds are 

 rare exceptions to the rule that the swallow migrates 

 each autumn to Africa. 



While I was keeping watch on the martins when the 

 fate of the young was still hanging in the balance, there 

 was a good deal of talk on the case among my old 

 fishermen and wild-fowling friends, and about swallows 



