WAYS OF NATURE 



a little and bring him up more squarely to the mark 

 next time. 



The swift is a stiff flyer: there appear to be no 

 joints in her wings; she suggests something made of 

 wires or of steel. Yet the air of frolic and of super 

 abundance of wing-power is more marked with her 

 than with any other of our birds. Her feeding and 

 twig-gathering seem like asides in a life of endless 

 play. Several times both in spring and fall I have 

 seen swifts gather in immense numbers toward night 

 fall, to take refuge in large unused chimney-stacks. 

 On such occasions they seem to be coming together 

 for some aerial festival or grand celebration; and, as 

 if bent upon a final effort to work off a part of their 

 superabundant wing-power before settling down for 

 the night, they circle and circle high above the chim 

 ney-top, a great cloud of them, drifting this way and 

 that, all in high spirits and chippering as they fly. 

 Their numbers constantly increase as other members 

 of the clan come dashing in from all points of the 

 compass. Swifts seem to materialize out of empty 

 air on all sides of the chippering, whirling ring, as 

 an hour or more this assembling of the clan and this 

 flight festival go on. The birds must gather in from 

 whole counties, or from half a State. They have 

 been on the wing all day, and yet now they seem as 

 tireless as the wind, and as if unable to curb their 

 powers. 



One fall they gathered in this way and took refuge 

 10 



