124 Victory of the Nighthawk [FIFTH WEEK 



When that time comes, the animals and birds which 

 survive will be only those which have found a way to 

 adapt themselves to man's encroaching, all-pervading civili- 

 sation. The time was when our far-distant ancestors had, 

 year in and year out, to fight for very existence against 

 the wild creatures about them. They then gained the 

 upper hand, and from that time to the present the only 

 question has been, how long the wild creatures of the 

 earth could hold out. 



The wolf, the bison, the beaver fought the battle out 

 at once to all but the bitter end. The crow, the muskrat, 

 the fox have more than held their own, by reason of cunning, 

 hiding or quickness of sight; but they cannot hope for this 

 to last. The English sparrow has won by sheer audacity; 

 but most to be admired are those creatures which have so 

 changed their habits that some product of man's invention 

 serves them as well as did their former wilderness home. 

 The eave swallow and barn swallow and the chimney swift 

 all belie their names in the few wild haunts still uninvaded 

 by man. The first two were originally cliff and bank 

 haunters, and the latter's home was a lightning-hollowed 

 tree. 



But the nighthawks which soar and boom above our 

 city streets, whence come they? Do they make daily pil- 

 grimages from distant woods? The city furnishes no forest 

 floor on which they may lay their eggs. Let us seek a 

 wide expanse of flat roof, high above the noisy, crowded 

 streets. Let it be one of those tar and pebble affairs, so 

 unpleasant to walk upon, but so efficient in shedding water. 

 If we are fortunate, as we walk slowly across the roof, a 



