THE BIRDS OF PEMBROKESHIRE. 215 



after a single night at another place ; of Blackbirds, Thrushes, 

 and Larks striking all night against the Tuskar, " many of each 

 killed ;" on another night of " Starlings and Larks striking for 

 one hour, fifteen Larks and twelve Starlings killed ;" on another 

 night forty Starlings were killed ; and there are many such 

 entries. The birds pass over all day and all night. Some species 

 prefer to make their journeys by night, others only by day. The 

 Swallow chooses the daytime. One warm and genial morning in 

 mid April I was standing on my vicarage lawn in Somersetshire, 

 when a little flock of Swallows suddenly ajDpeared overhead. 

 They descended with joyful twitterings, and, after swooping round 

 me as if to give me a greeting, they settled on the housetop, and 

 at once commenced in an eager bustling way to inspect the 

 familiar chimneys. I have no doubt that I then witnessed the 

 arrival of the contingent which belonged to my own premises. 



The destruction of birds at the migration time must be very 

 great. Besides those which beat themselves to death against the 

 lanterns of the lighthouses — treacherous decoys in the darkness 

 of stormy nights — thousands must often drop into the sea and 

 perish when they become exhausted through meeting with adverse 

 winds and rough weather at the period of their passage. 

 Captains of ships have reported the sea as covered for miles with 

 their bodies; and I have myself frequently seen thousands of 

 dead Guillemots, Razorbills, and Kittiwakes strewing the shore 

 of the Devonshire coast after a severe autumnal gale. The 

 migratory impulse thus lures myriads of birds to their destruc- 

 tion ; and it is a curious fact that the largest and earliest flocks 

 consist entirely of young birds. They have never before made 

 the perilous journey ; they know nothing of the country to which 

 their instinct urges them to fly ; and yet they are constrained to 

 make the i-ash venture by an inward overpowering feeling called 

 by naturalists " the hereditary instinct," and without guidance or 

 direction, save that of the Divine Providence without whose 

 ordering a single Sparrow does not strike the ground, they 

 embark and trust themselves to the darkness of the night and 

 the wild October skies. In the report from the E. coast of 

 England for 1881 it is stated that " snow-buntings have been con- 

 siderably in excess of anything known for many years, the pro- 

 portion of old birds not more than one in a hundred." 



The recently formed Ornithologibts Union in America has 



