198 BIRDS OF THE PLAINS 



pleasure the roosting operations of this despised bird. 

 I know of a row of bushes that forms the dormitory of 

 hundreds of sparrows. To enable the reader to appre- 

 ciate what follows, let me say that the hedge in question 

 is only some twenty yards long, its height is not much 

 greater than that of a man, it is nowhere more than 

 eight feet in breadth, and is within a hundred yards of 

 an inhabited bungalow. Less than six yards away from 

 it is a well, fitted with a creaking Persian wheel, at 

 which coolies are continually working. 



If you happen to pass this hedge within an hour of 

 sunset, you will hear issuing from it the dissonance of 

 many sparrows' voices. You stop to listen, and, as you 

 wait, a flock of sparrows dives into the thicket. You 

 look about to see whether any more are coming and ob- 

 serve nothing. Suddenly some specks appear in the air, 

 as if spontaneously generated. In two seconds these are 

 seen to be sparrows. Within half a minute of the time 

 you first set eyes upon them they are already in the 

 bushes. They are followed by another little flock of 

 six or seven, and another and another. Flight after 

 flight arrives in quick succession, each of which shoots 

 into the roosting hedge. I use the word " shoot" ad- 

 visedly, for no other term describes the speed at which 

 they enter the bushes. Their flight, although so rapid, 

 is not direct ; it takes the form of a quavering zigzag. 

 Some of the flocks do not immediately plunge into the 

 bushes. They circle once, twice, thrice, or even oftener, 

 before they betake themselves to their leafy dormitory. 

 Sometimes part of a flight dive into the hedge imme- 

 diately upon arrival, while the remainder circle round 



