Tree Swallows in a Bird -box 95 



ing this, I discovered one of the young perched upon a twig on the ground. 

 I focused the camera upon him and snapped it. All the while, the two 

 parents and two other pairs of Swallows, who came from I don't know 

 where, were swooping just above the youngster's head. Finally, without 

 any warning, the young one spread his wings and was instantly borne up- 

 ward in a screaming, flapping mass of old birds, who prevented his falling. 

 Over the pond they went, now back over the box again, and finally down 

 the street; the youngster flew better as he flew farther, and before he was 

 through he was able to flap along nearly as well as his father. Thus did 

 the first of the Swallow brood learn to fly. 



It rained all that night, and June 18 dawned cold and wet. As I looked 

 out of the window I saw a soft gray thing under the box. Upon investi- 

 gating 1 found it to be a young Swallow, cold and stif^. Poor little chap; 

 he had fallen from his nest at dawn, and died of the damp and wet. I 

 picked him up. He was a pretty little fellow, — soft gray, with a collar of 

 the same, and a white throat and belly. 



My photographs were not successful, but I kept taking new ones each 

 day, a few of which were fairly good. As 1 had never tried bird-photog- 

 raphy before, I made many sad mistakes. 



My Swallows, however, were very tame and seemed to put the utmost 

 confidence in me, even when I placed the camera on prolonged tripods, at 

 a distance of four feet from the box. The birds would feed their young 

 within a yard of my face without hesitating. Twice, when the Swallows 

 were especially irritable or anxious concerning their young, they would 

 swoop at my head so close that it made me duck. As they whizzed by me 

 they would give an angry 'click,'' half vocal, and half made by snapping the 

 bill. 



The other notes of the Swallows are a rasping, harsh, alarm note, 

 sounding like, ' skee-kee-kee-skee-kee-kee,' etc.; the joyful twitter already 

 mentioned, and a low, contented gurgle, always given when the bird is 

 perching. Sometimes, as a parent bird swoops through the door of the 

 house, it utters an indescribable note, sounding more like ' schleik' than 

 anything else. 



The young would now sit in the doorway all day long, waiting to be 

 fed. As one of the parents approached them, instantly the soft gray mass 

 in the doorway would change into flaming orange as each wide mouth was 

 opened. The parent bird would thrust a mass of flies down one of the 

 eager throats, and then rise into the air again until another mouthful of 

 flies was caught. It was comical to watch the contortions of the young 

 one trying to swallow the huge mouthful, but he always did it, and opened 

 up again as wide as any of his brothers. 



On June 19, I noticed that the daring young one who had learned to 

 fly a few days before was back in the box again. 



