1 4 o BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES 



farther, seem drawn back into it, again, by some 

 strong, attractive force. Or they will fly from one 

 tree to another of a group, swarming into each, and 

 presenting, as they cluster in myriads about it, before 

 settling, more the appearance of a vast swarm of 

 bees, or some other insects, than of birds. These 

 flights out from the trees, always very sudden, seem, 

 sometimes, to be absolutely instantaneous ; whilst 

 in every case it is obvious that vast numbers must 

 move in the same twinkle of time, as though they 

 were threaded together. 



All this time, fresh bands are continuing to 

 arrive, draining different areas of the country. 

 From tree to field, from earth to sky, again, is flung 

 and whirled about the brown, throbbing mantle of 

 life and joy ; nature grows glad with sound and 

 commotion ; children shout and clap their hands ; 

 old village women run to the doors of cottages to 

 gaze and wonder the starlings make them young. 

 Blessed, harmless community ! The men are out, 

 no guns are there, it is like the golden age. And 

 now it is the final flight, or, rather, the final many 

 flights, for it is seldom perhaps never that all, or 

 even nearly all, arrive together at the roosting-place. 

 As to other great things, so to this daily miracle 

 there are small beginnings ; the wonder of it grows 

 and grows. First a few quite small bands are seen 

 flying rapidly, yet soberly, which, as they near or pass 

 over the silent wood their pleasant dormitory 

 sweep outwards, and fly restlessly round in circles 

 now vast, now narrow but of which it is ever the 

 centre. "Then comes wandering by" one single 

 bird apart, cut off, by lakes of lonely air, from all 



