284 Bird - Lore 



This whole article, with its combination of exact description, touches of 

 local color, and wholesome sentiment is an admirable example of Brewster's 

 style. 



One is tempted to make extended quotations from his writings, which, 

 published in various scientific journals, have never had the audience that they 

 merit, but I add only an extract from his essay on 'Bird Migration,' pub- 

 lished as the first 'Memoir' of the Nuttall Club. Brewster was the first orni- 

 thologist in this country to make a definite study of bird migration from a 

 lighthouse. From August 13 to September 26, 1885, he remained at Point 

 Lepreaux, New Brunswick, living with the keeper of the light. On the night 

 of September 4, there was a heavy flight of birds. Brewster remained in the 

 lighthouse from ten o'clock until two the next morning. During this time 

 about 200 birds struck the light. After giving the names of those that were 

 identified, he writes: 



"At the height of the melee the scene was interesting and impressive beyond almost 

 anything that I ever witnessed. Above, the inky black sky; on all sides, dense wreaths 

 of fog scudding swiftly past and completely enveloping the sea which moaned dismally 

 at the base of the cliffs below; about the top of the tower, a belt of light projected some 

 thirty yards into the mist by the powerful reflectors; and in this belt swarms of birds, 

 circling, floating, soaring, now advancing, next retreating, but never quite able, as it 

 seemed, to throw off the spell of the fatal lantern. Their rapidly vibrating wings made 

 a haze about their forms which in the strong light looked semi-transparent. At a dis- 

 tance all appeared of a pale, silvery gray color, nearer, of a rich yellow. They reminded 

 me by turns of meteors, gigantic moths. Swallows with sunlight streaming through their 

 wings. I could not watch them for any length of time without becoming dizzy and 

 bewildered. 



"When the wind blew strongly they circled around to leeward, breasting it in a dense 

 throng, which drifted backward and forward, up and down, like a swarm of gnats danc- 

 ing in the sunshine. Dozens were continually leaving this throng and skimming towards 

 the lantern. As they approached they invariably soared upward, and those which started 

 on a level with the platform usually passed above the roof. Others sheered off at the 

 last moment, and shot by with arrow-like swiftness, while more rarely one would stop 

 abruptly and, poising a few feet from the glass, inspect the lighted space within. Often 

 for a minute or more not a bird would strike. Then, as if seized by a panic, they would 

 come against the glass so rapidly, and in such numbers, that the sound of their blows 

 resembled the pattering of hail. Many struck the tin roof above the light, others the 

 iron railing which enclosed the platform, while still others pelted me on the back, arms, 

 and legs, and one actually became hopelessly entangled in my beard. At times it fairly 

 rained birds, and the platform, wet and shining, was strewn with the dead and dying." 



But Brewster's curatorial duties, his labors in amassing a representative 

 collection of North American birds, which was always at the disposal of his 

 fellow workers, and the preparation of his long list of publications by no means 

 form the total of his contributions to the science of ornithology. He was one 

 of the organizers of the Nuttall Club, from which grew the American Orni- 

 thologists' Union, and in the formation of that society he played a part of the 

 first importance. He served as the Union's president from 1896 to 1898, and, 



