266 FROM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



Many other birds which are not specially skilful in flight act in 

 much the same way as the wooing birds of prey. That they call in 

 the aid of their wings when they strive to win the love of a mate, 

 or wish to express their delight in a possession already won, is 

 intelligible enough after what has been related. The swallow, 

 sitting beside his desired or chosen mate, eagerly warbles his melo- 

 dious lay; but the emotion within his breast is much too strong 

 to allow him to sit still during the progress of his song, so he flies 

 upwards, singing in his flight, and hovers and circles about the 

 female who has followed him. The goatsucker sits for a time 

 lengthwise on a bough, often at some distance from his mate, spins 

 ofl" his whirring strophes for some minutes, then rises, flies about 

 his mate in graceful curves, flapping his wings, and calling to her 

 such a tender " hait ", that one wonders how a sound so soft can 

 possibly be produced by his rough throat. The bee-eater, whose 

 voice is also unraelodious, sits for a long time on his perch, pressing 

 closely to his mate, uttering scarcely a sound, sometimes none 

 whatever, but apparently contenting himself with casting tender 

 glances from his beautiful bright red eyes; but he, too, takes fire, 

 moves his wings abruptly, rises high into the air, describes a circle, 

 utters a jubilant cry, and returns to his mate, who has remained 

 sitting where he left her. In the midst of its most ardent love- 

 song — call it cooing, murmuring, moaning, or what you will — the 

 dove breaks off suddenly as if inspired by its own music, then claps 

 its wings loudly and sharply several times, soars aloft, spreads its 

 wings and floats slowly down to a tree-top, there to begin its song 

 anew. Tree-pipits and rock-pipits, white-throats, and garden 

 warblers behave exactly like the doves; the wood- warblers precipi- 

 tate themselves from their high perches without ceasing to sing, fly 

 up again to another branch, where they finish their song, to begin 

 it again a few minutes later, and bring it to a conclusion with a 

 similar play of wings. Greenfinches, siskins, and common buntings, 

 in the enthusiasm of love, tumble through the air as if they had no 

 control over their wings; the larks soar to heaven singing their song 

 of love; the serin behaves as if it had taken lessons from a bat. 



A similar intoxication possesses those birds which declare their 



