THE MYSTERIES OF MIGRATION. 3 



after mile, to-day a little, to-morrow the same, and thus a 

 warbler from Annam may take weeks to perform the same 

 journey which a swift would cover, at his 200 miles an hour, 

 in a single day. Many species also move but short 

 distances, whilst others cover half a hemisphere, and per- 

 haps more. And with their variety they also make mistakes 

 at times, or else Dame Nature plays them false. One of the 

 cocksure bits of dogmatism in "The Royal Natural History" 

 (Lyddeker) is that no birds hibernate. Now most men who 

 read their "Field" can remember cases when this subject 

 has been discussed with evidence which should undoubtedly 

 bring about at least a Scottish" verdict of "Not proven." 

 Personally I can remember many years ago watching with 

 much interest the movements of some swallows hawking 

 over a Hongkew ice-pond on the first of January! It was a 

 beautifully bright sunny day. Had these birds migrated at 

 that time, or were they hibernating somewhere here, and, 

 bat-like, were awakened by the warmth? Evidently 

 dogmatism is dangerous under such circumstances. On 

 another occasion I was accompanied for some time when 

 snipe-shooting in the early spring by a swallow nearly starv- 

 ing with cold and hunger. He flew round and round, nearly 

 touching me as he passed. The weather was bitter for the 

 time of year, and every self-respecting fly and mosquito was 

 safely wrapped up in blankets hidden by leaves and blades 

 of grass. Walking through the marshes I disturbed a num- 

 ber of these which drowsed lazily ofl^ only to be snapped up 

 by my hungry little companion before they had gone a yard. 

 The movements at present going on in our bird world 

 affect a very considerable number of the species best known 

 to us. Most of the ducks, geese, and other water fowl are 

 going north. They may be seen by day and heard by night, 

 occasionally even seen when the moon is full, and they fly 

 across its face. With them go the redwings and, I think, 

 most other thrushes. The blackbirds do not move away 

 except for an outing some time in the late summer, coming 

 back again in October. The wag-tails go, and some of the 

 bunting tribe. Travellers going home via Siberia may, if 

 they cross about the end of May or the beginning of June, 

 see ample proof of the immensity of this "spring running." 

 Plain, marsh, field, and forest are alive with birds. Seebohm 

 in his book on Siberian bird life gives graphic pictures of 

 the profusion which has now been opened up to the eyes of 

 all who have money and leisure. The train passes through 

 various marshy districts and there, from the lordly swan 

 which sails overhead down to the smallest teal, water fowl 

 are to be seen. So also are waders, herons, and others. On 

 the telegraph wires the cuckoo stands and cries. Hawks, 



