Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
lows that strained very hard indeed to keep near 
the Bats. Both sped away at their swiftest pace. 
Asecond valley was crossed and then a low range of 
hills. Both armies now were strung out at full 
length, and yet seemed nearly matched. But there 
was one trick that the Swallows could not keep 
from doing, that was curveting in the air. The 
habit of zigzag flight was part of their nature. The 
Bats often do it, too, but now, with speed as their 
aim, they laid aside all playful pranks of flight, and, 
level-necked like a lot of Wild Geese, flapping stead- 
ily at a regular beat, beat, beat, dropping or rising 
as their sensitive feelings showed was wise when the 
air current changed, their wings went beat, beat, 
beat. Another valley crossed, Atalapha made 
better choice of the air levels, and his rival dropped 
behind. His kinsmen followed. The Swallows 
began to lose a little, then, losing ground, lost 
heart; and before another river had been passed 
the first of the Swallows had dropped behind the 
last of the Bats, and silken wings had beaten 
whistling plumes. 
LOST ON THE WATER 
Most migrants seek the sea if it be anywhere near 
their course, no doubt because of the great guide 
line of its margin. Down the Connecticut Valley 
197 
