218 THE LOG OF THE SUN 



which we occasionally come across in mid-winter, 

 of species which generally migrate to Brazil? It 

 is not the cold which deprives us of our summer 

 friends, or at least the great majority of them; 

 it is the decrease in food supply. Insects dis- 

 appear, and only those birds which feed on seeds 

 and buds, or are able to glean an insect diet from 

 the crevices of fence and tree-trunk, can abide. 



This is the month to climb out on the roof of 

 your house, lie on your back and listen. He is a 

 stolid person indeed who is not moved by the 

 chirps and twitters which come down through the 

 darkness. There is no better way to show what 

 a wonderful power sound has upon our memories. 

 There sounds a robin's note, and spring seems 

 here again; through the night comes a white- 

 throat's chirp, and we see again the fog-dimmed 

 fields of a Nova Scotian upland; a sandpiper 

 "peets" and the scene in our mind's eye as in- 

 stantly changes, and so on. What a revelation 

 if we could see as in daylight for a few moments ! 

 The sky would be pitted with thousands and 

 thousands of birds flying from a few hundred 

 yards to as high as one or two miles above the 

 earth. 



It only adds to the interest of this phenomenon 

 when w T e turn to our learned books on birds for 

 an explanation of the origin of migration, the 

 whence and whither of the long journeys by day 

 and night, and find — no certain answer ! This is 



