The Chimney Swift 211 



And that same question of migration still mocks "man's 

 prying pride," and now, as then, it is true that the "God of Na- 

 ture is their secret guide." 



The early naturalists, including Linnaeus and Kalm, be- 

 lieved that the swallows, including the swifts, buried them- 

 selves in water under the freezing line, or slept in the crevices 

 of rocks, but modern naturalists, with authentic accounts of 

 their having settled upon the masts and sails of ships when 

 on their passage to and from countries where they pass the 

 winter, disbelieve that theory. Still, the mystery is not cleared 

 up. Mr. Wells W. Cooke in his bulletin on the migration of 

 birds says: "The chimney swift is one of the most abundant 

 and best known birds of the eastern part of the United States. 

 With troops of fledglings, catching their winged prey as they 

 go, and lodging by night in some tall chimney, the flocks drift 

 slowly south, joining with other bands until on the northern 

 coast of the Gulf of Mexico they become an innumerable host. 

 Then they disappear. Did they drop into the water and hi- 

 bernate in the mud, as was believed of old, their obliteration 

 could not have been more complete. In the last week in 

 March a joyful twittering far overhead announces their return 

 to the Gulf coast, but the intervening five months is still the 

 swift's secret." 



The chimney swift gets its distinctive name from its habit 

 of nesting and roosting in chimneys. Formerly they nested 

 and roosted in hollow trees. Of their roosting Audubon's ac- 

 count of a rendezvous in a hollow sycamore which was ten- 

 anted by about 8,000 or 9,000 of them is interesting. He says : 

 "The sun was going down behind the Silver Hills ; the even- 

 ing was beautiful ; thousands of swallows were flying closely 

 above me, and three or four at a time were pitching into the 

 hole, like bees hurrying into their hive. I remained, my head 

 leaning to the tree, listening to the roaring noise made within 

 by the birds as they settled and arranged themselves, until it 

 was quite dark, when I left the place, although I was convinced 

 that many more had to enter. Next morning I was early 

 enough to reach the place long before the least appearance of 

 daylight, and placed my head against the tree. All was silent 

 within. I remained in that posture probably twenty minutes, 



