The Swarm Spirit 



of this peculiarity. For months at a stretch you 

 see them about the house, first in pairs, next in 

 family groups, then in larger companies, made up, 

 I think, of birds raised in the same neighborhood 

 and probably all more or less related ; but though 

 you watch these companies attentively from dawn 

 to dusk, you shall never see them going through 

 any unusual wing drill. Then comes an hour when 

 flocks of starlings appear on all sides, heading 

 to a common center. They gather in trees here or 

 there about the edges of a great field or a strip of 

 open beach, all jabbering like the blackbirds, which 

 they imitate in their cries, flitting about in cease- 

 less commotion, but apparently keeping their 

 family or tribal organization intact. Suddenly, 

 as at a signal, they all launch themselves toward 

 the center of the field; the hundred companies 

 unite in one immense flock, and presto! the drill 

 is on. The birds are no longer individuals, but a 

 single-minded myriad, which wheels or veers with 

 such precision that the flash of their ten-thousand 

 wings when they turn is like the flicker of a signal- 

 glass in the sun. 



The same characteristic of uncommon numbers 

 holds true of the crows and, indeed, of all other 

 species of birds, save one, that ever practise the 

 wing drill. Wild geese when in small companies, 

 each a family unit, have a regular and beautiful 



[H3l 



