78



H. Thoburn-Clarke



same rafter associated together, and for some days ten very forlorn

little birds sat in a humped-up looking mass on a length of telephono

stretched between the farmhouse and the harness-room. The parents

would coax them into trying their wings, but if one strayed from the

flock the old bird would anxiously convey him back again. At last

the whole crowd found a convenient stone ledge under the eaves of

the farmhouse, and here they spent their days sunning themselves

and twittering joyously. The parent birds fed them for three weeks,

and every night escorted them back to the rafter in the harness-room.

They made a pretty picture sitting in a row on the rafter, and one

regretted that a camera was forbidden at the front. I should have

dearly loved to snap the row of white-throated heads peeping down

at us. The Martins seemed to disperse as soon as they were old

enough to leave the nests, but these Swallows kept together for some

weeks.


Our battery was continually moving about, coming and going

between various places, and at one of our stopping-places a pair of

Swallows calmly appropriated the rack on which we hung our jackets.

Needless to say, we resigned the rack to them and hung our uniforms

upon a hastily improvised rack consisting of a board with some large

nails driven into it. Unfortunately, we were ordered off on our

travels before the nest was completed, and never knew how the birds

fared in their home-making. The young birds had flown before we

returned.


Swallows and House Martins are the most amiable of birds,

and live together in harmony. The youngsters of both keep together

and form flocks, which are very conservative in their habits. Twenty

young Swallows and House Martins would perch in a half-dead plum

tree in an old deserted orchard and twitter and preen themselves

joyously. Every tine day they came, and enjoyed themselves

happily ; but when it was very wet they deserted the plum tree and

spent their time hawking and hunting under a Noah’s Ark row of

limes that bordered the river.


They were particularly fond of darting to and fro under and

over the horses’ lines situated beneath the trees. One terribly wet

day in August, 1915, I noticed this particularly. Evidently they

were collecting for migration, for there were hundreds flying about



