BIRDS OF OUR BUSH 



the irate parents sweep down from their tree and back 

 again almost unceasingly — a vicious snap of the beak at 

 the camera or operator, on both the outward and the return 

 journey. Various tricks of the trade to which most other 

 birds will succumb are useless. On one occasion the young 

 from three different nests, labelled to show their correct 

 addresses, were removed to a point between the nests in 

 the hope that there would be one brave parent amongst 

 the six, or that the greater number interested would make 

 them bolder. The only result was to promote amongst the 

 parents a serious squabble which put photography out 

 of the question. The human sentiments regarding com- 

 rades in distress apparently does not apply to Wood Swal- 

 lows. The labels were hastily consulted, and the causes 

 of the trouble returned to their respective homes. This 

 tendency to fight at the smallest provocation disappears as 

 soon as the young are safely on the wing. The augmented 

 flock again soars in harmony, and the feuds of nesting days 

 are forgotten. 



On two occasions only has success attended our photo- 

 graphic efforts. In the first case, both birds showed up 

 with the required courage, and actually visited the nest 

 together. The old magazine camera was in use at the 

 time, and the picture is not what it might have been. On 

 the other occasion the apparatus was better, but the male 

 bird refused to be convinced of the harmlessness of our 

 plant. The female, after a couple of hours of indecision, 

 gave us unlimited opportunities. 



Notwithstanding a bad record from a photographic 

 point of view, the Wood Swallow cannot do otherwise than 

 command the admiration of every Nature lover. The easy 

 soaring flight and the characteristic circular movement 

 of the tail when the bird is at rest add to the charm of the 

 graceful form and the slaty grey plumage. A proudly 

 defiant parent sitting on its small frail nest, or a family of 

 five on a dry branch — three small stumps of tail doing their 

 best to imitate the mature swing of the other two — makes 

 a picture sufficient to compensate for many camera failures. 

 Nor would it be correct to think that the habits of the 

 bird always savour of ferocity. In the course of a day's 

 photography there is often a vexatious delay of half-an- 

 hour while two erring parents, huddled together on their 

 favourite branch, express their mutual affection by a multi- 



ISO 



