The Tree Swallow i8i 



••A lart,'(.' part of the Hock had settled in a pasture some distance away, in so 

 close a t,n-oup that they made a spot of blue on the short grass. Crossing over 

 to tliese I found them (|uietly enjoying the sunlight, and, as I approached 

 from the southwest, all had their backs toward me, showing lo perfection the 

 beautiful steel-blue of the feathers. Most of the time they were still, though now 

 and then one undertot)k to walk a few inches, if, indeed, such a ridiculous hobble 

 could be called a walk. But forty feet was near enough for a person— then those 

 nearest me rose, and, passing over the others, alighted in front of them, and so 

 they moved regularly on before me. 



"Some of this portion of the flock were on a wire fence near at hand; a very 

 small proportion, though over one hundred, were on a single wire between five 

 posts, and these were so fearless that when the last one flew I was but two steps 

 away. 



"Four or five times during an hour and a half the birds on the telegraph wires 

 rose in a body, with those drinking at the brook, while the flock from the pasture 

 hurriedly crossed the intervening fields to join them. For a moment the very 

 air seemed full of Swallows; then, rising higher, they separated into smaller 

 flocks, turning back and forth, meeting again, describing curious figures as 

 smoothly and easily as if going through a long-practiced drill. After a few min- 

 utes, they either returned, a few at a time, to their former perches or gradually 

 scattered over the fields and woods, and in a little while came streaming back, 

 a long river of Swallows, to alight once more. 



"As the morning advanced their numbers gradually diminished, and at 3 p. m. 

 about thirty remained. For three or four days after that these Swallows were 

 present in great numbers, continuing their drill, after which I noticed no more 

 than usual." 



The Tree Swallow not only comes earlier and stays longer with us than any 

 one of the clan, but it is the only one of the family to winter in the United States, 

 from South Carolina and southern California to the tropics. By its hardihood, 

 it is exposed to the danger of starvation when a sudden drop in the temperature 

 not only impairs its vitality but cuts off its food supply. Of one of these tragic 

 incidents Mrs, Slosson tells us,— for with these seeming careless birds of pas- 

 sage, as with ourselves, it is not always either summer or good living. 



"The cold wave reached us at Miami, on Biscayne Bay, Florida, in the 

 night of February 12, 1899. It was preceded by severe thunder storms in the 

 evening. On the 13, Monday, it was very cold all over the state, with snow and 

 sleet as far south as Ormond and Titusville. Our thermometers at Miami 

 ranged from 36° to 40° during the day. As I sat in my room at the hotel, about 

 four in the afternoon, I saw a bird outside my window, then another and another, 

 and soon the air seemed full of wings. 



" Opening my window to see what the visitors could be, I found they were 

 Tree Swallows. Several flew into my room, others clustered on the window- 

 ledge, huddling closely together for warmth. There were hundreds of them about 



