114 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



familiar to them, they return again to their natal 

 place, not in a direct but ofttimes by a devious 

 route, now north, now north-east, now east or 

 west, keeping to the least perilous lines and cross- 

 ing the seas where they are narrowest. Thus, 

 when the returning multitude recrosses the Chan- 

 nel into England, coming by way of France and 

 Spain from north or south or mid-Africa and 

 from Asia, they at once proceed to disperse over 

 the entire country from Land's End to Thurso and 

 the northernmost islanrds of Scotland, until every 

 wood and hill and moor and thicket and stream 

 and every village and field and hedgerow and 

 farmhouse has its own feathered people back in 

 their old places. But they do not return in their 

 old force. They had increased to twice or three 

 times their original numbers when they left us, 

 and as a result of that great adventure a half or 

 two-thirds of the vast army has perished. 



The instinct which in character comes nearest 

 to that of the parent simulating the action of a 

 wounded and terrified bird struggling to escape 

 in order to safeguard its young, is that one, very 

 strong in all ground-breeding species, of sitting 

 close on the nest in the presence of danger. Here, 



