HIRUNDO URBICA. 199 



io build on the 1st of May, and have their nest finished on the 

 19th ; some on the 3rd of June, and finished on the 17th. 

 Others, whose nests have been knocked down by wet or acci- 

 dent, have rebuilt them in less than a week. At night on the 

 18th of July, a storm of wind and rain knocked down part of a 

 nest stuck in the corner of a window, and one of the eggs, nearly 

 hatched, fell down. At first the old birds fluttered anxiously 

 about with plaintive cries ; but next morning early they began 

 to repair the damage, although it rained heavily. One 

 remained in the nest while the other brought the materials ; 

 part of the original lining hanging over the side was built into 

 the new fabric. In a few days it was finished, and the young 

 ones hatched. Another wise lesson for humanity — not to 

 despair, but begin at once to rebuild their house or fortune if 

 they fall. 



The only little birds not afraid of the sparrow-hawk are the 

 swallows. They mob and chase it, their quick movements 

 annoy it, and it gets out of their way as fast as possible. As 

 Tennyson says : — 



" Above, on the wind was the swallow, 

 Chasing itself at its own wild will." * 



And, if the hawk comes near their nest they attack it. The 

 regularity of their return to old haunts is remarkable. A 

 gentleman named Falconer, of Carlowrie, and his gardener 

 watched their arrival for forty years, and they regularly alighted 

 on his premises either on the 22nd or 23rd of April. On the 

 forenoon of the 23rd of one April he asked the gardener if he 

 had seen his feathered friends yet 1 They had not yet come, 

 but about four o'clock p.m. the gardener hurried to him with 

 the joyful news that they had just arrived, and were sitting on 

 the ridge of the stable roof. And as proof that they not only 

 revisit the same places, but occupy the same nests, a gentleman 

 in Kent selected a detached nest, got the old bird sitting on 

 eggs, and fastened a small piece of silk round one of its legs. 

 Next year the bird returned to the same nest, identified by the 

 piece of silk. Others have been identified by small silver rings 

 round their legs. But it should be borne in- mind that our 

 summer migrants in coming back to us are not only returning 

 to the homes of their youth, where they were hatched, but 

 have come at the call of Nature to carry on the simple but in- 

 exorable law of reproduction. Our winter migrants, on the 

 other hand, are more like sojourners in a strange land — like a 



* This applies more to the last species, or to the swift. 



