COMMON SWALLOW 37 



When these feuds are finally settled, they address 

 themselves diligently to the great work and build a 

 rather big nest. They are not neat or skilful workers, 

 but merely stuff a great quantity of straw and other 

 light materials into the breeding-hole, and line the 

 nest with feathers and horsehair. On this soft but 

 disorderly bed the female lays from five to seven pure 

 white eggs. 



All those species that are liable at any time to 

 become the victims of raptorial birds are very much 

 beholden to this Swallow, as he is the most vigilant 

 sentinel they possess. When the hurrying Falcon is 

 still far off, and the other birds unsuspicious of his 

 approach, the Swallows suddenly rush up into the 

 sky with a wild rapid flight to announce the evil 

 tidings with distracted screams. The alarm spreads 

 swift as light through the feathered tribes, which on 

 all sides are in terrified commotion, crouching in the 

 grass, plunging into thickets, or mounting upwards 

 to escape by flight. I have often wondered at this, 

 since this swift-winged and quick-doubling little bird 

 is the least likely to fall a prey himself. 



They possess another habit very grateful to the 

 mind of every early riser* At the first indication of 

 dawn, and before any other wild bird has broken the 

 profound silence of night, multitudes of this Swallow, 

 as if at the signal of a leader, begin their singing and 

 twittering, at the same time mounting upwards into 

 the quiet dusky sky. Their notes at this hour differ 

 from the hurried twittering uttered during the day, 

 being softer and more prolonged, and, sounding far 



