THE CHIMNEY SWIFT 183 



are remarkable birds not only because they spend a large 

 part of the day on the wing, never alighting on trees and 

 very seldom on the ground; but also from the wonderful 

 way in which they build their nests. At nesting time 

 these birds secrete a sticky gelatin-like saliva which they 

 smear on the inside of a chimney and allow to dry. Our 

 chimney swift brings small sticks, which she glues fast to 

 this mass, and little by little, she adds more glue and more 

 sticks until the nest is finished. 



It is interesting to watch these birds gathering sticks 

 for a nest. They select a tree whose twigs are dead but 

 still tough. About such a tree near our house one could see 

 swifts circling in great numbers, as they came both from 

 our house and from our nearest neighbor's. Suddenly a 

 bird would dash at a twig, catch it in its feet, and make a 

 peculiar sidewise jerk which snapped it off short. Away the 

 bird dashed to the nest, carrying the stick in its feet. It 

 seems strange for a bird with such poorly developed feet to 

 carry its sticks in this way, when most birds carry them 

 in their bills. 



The nest of our chimney swift is made about half and 

 half of this bird-glue or gelatin and sticks. In Southeast- 

 ern Asia and the East Indies one of her cousins uses no 

 sticks at all, but plasters on the glue little by little until 

 the entire nest is made of it. The natives have learned 

 to collect these birds' nests and make them into soup, of 

 which they are very fond. People who have eaten bird's-nest 

 soup tell me that it really is fine. In fact, bird's-nest soup 

 is so delicious and the nests are so hard to get that there 

 are few articles of food there that command a higher 

 price. 



I have never known any one to attempt to make soup 



