At the Water's Edge 



May, early in October. It was no involuntary 

 passage, such as might be produced by a vio- 

 lent wind, for the air was absolutely calm ; and 

 the flight of such a multitude indicated a pre- 

 concerted plan for a prolonged transit. Walk- 

 ing along the beach early in the morning, I was 

 aware of numerous butterflies passing me, long 

 before I gave them any definite thought, except 

 that I had never seen so many before. But at 

 length they forced themselves upon my distinct 

 attention, and I was persuaded there was "some- 

 thing in the air." Beginning to watch them 

 carefully, I quickly discovered that they were 

 passing along the beach in a regular stream ; 

 not in their usual zigzag course, but in a very 

 direct line, sometimes in small groups, some- 

 times singly, but in almost uninterrupted suc- 

 cession. Some were near the ground, and 

 others at various heights as far as a hundred 

 feet in the air, but not a single one was going 

 in an opposite direction from the others, and 

 only one alighted, but only for an instant. I 

 watched the fluttering, but rapidly moving cur- 

 rent for nearly half an hour, and when I left 

 them there were still many stragglers in the 

 procession. The entire number, as far as I 

 could judge, were of one species. Although at 

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