On the Swallow. 281 
a very unaccountable event, and the only instance of the kind I 
ever remember. ‘They always, in common with the other swal- 
low, produced twice, and used to foster their young to the last. 
I have known both kinds in a bad season, when short of flies, to 
nourish and bring forward their young, abandon whole nests of 
the last sittings to perish, when the ultimate period of departure 
arrived, but never knew them separate and leave the other divi- 
sions behind. ‘There must be some strange unknown cause for 
this extraordinary resolution. At first I dreaded that it prognos- 
ticated some unprecedented change of temperature, or con- 
vulsion of the elements. When entertaining that idea, I could not 
help remarking the appearance of a cock robin, who, two days 
after their departure, came hopping into the boiling house intro- 
ducing one of his sons, looking round, and with his accustomed 
familiarity strutting through the house, viewing every one as he 
passed, without concern or alarm. 
The ultimate hibernation of the swallow I am of opinion will 
for ever remain a mystery, unless aérial navigation come to that 
state of perfection as to make voyages from Pole to Pole. Then 
they may be detected in the utmost regions of the atmosphere far 
beyond the rage of elements and strife of storms.—To whatever 
clime or part of the world they proceed, their flight is at an ele- 
vation far beyond the reach of optics. They depart with the first 
ray of the morning, and so directly upwards as to elude all re- 
search. They return with the first dawn of the day, but from 
whence no man can tell; they drop as from the clouds, and take 
up their abode in the former haunts as if they had just left them 
the hour before. On the Ist of April 1809, I had occasion to 
be at the village of Ceres; the morning was remarkably clear, 
with a cloudless sky of beautiful azure. "Standing a little before 
the door of my friend, remarking the fineness of the morning aud 
clearness of the sky, my friend desired me to look at a small but 
well defined dark spot that had just caught his eye at a very great 
height in the air. I soon perceived the object 5 it remained for 
some time apparently stationary, but increasing in size, from the 
object’s approach being in a direct line to the spot where we 
stood. Continuing to keep an eye on the object for some time, 
we at last discovered it to be a swallow flying with immense ve- 
locity, which like an arrow from a bow darted into an old nest in 
my friend’s window. 
These straggling swallows, “ for one swallow never made sum- 
mer,” I conceive mere espionage directed from the main body, like 
Noah’s dove to spy and report on the appearance of the earth, or 
to find the longitude or latitude of their flight, or to find if near 
the former haunt of a colony. When that is the case, the first re- 
main, 
