INTRODUCTION. XXII 
morning brought new comers to the Point, and at night, especially after August 20, 
Thrushes and Warblers were often heard passing overhead. But up to the close of the 
month there was no considerable movement, at least of species which migrate by night. 
Rather it was like the gradual setting of ocean currents immediately after the turn of 
the tide. During this period the weather was unfavorable for birds to be attracted to 
the light, and none were seen there either living or dead. 
“The first real ‘rush’ occurred on the night of September 1, and, for the two weeks 
following the feathered tide flowed swiftly and more or less steadily, marking its course 
through the star-lit heavens by the incessant chirping of its passing legions, in thick 
weather surging confusedly about the light, wrecking many a bird life against the 
fatal shaft, and at daybreak leaving hundreds of tired little travellers stranded in the 
scanty covers of the Point. With this date then begin my notes on ‘Birds about 
the Light.’ 
“Sept. 1. Night cloudy and dark, but not foggy. Wind south-west, light. At 
ten o’clock small birds appeared about the lantern in considerable numbers, and for the 
succeeding two hours a dozen or more were constantly in sight, skimming along or 
across the pathway of light. Every now and then one would fly directly against the 
glass, sometimes striking it with considerable force, but oftener merely fluttering against 
the pane. During the evening two killed themselves outright, and seven were hopelessly 
disabled. These nine specimens represented eight species, seven of which were Warblers 
(Dendroica virens, D. maculosa, D. pensylvanica, D. cerulescens, Géothlypis philadel- 
phia, G. trichas, and Setophaga ruticilla) and one a Vireo (V. olivaceus), A tenth 
(Empidonax trailli) entered the mouth of the ventilator and came down through it 
into the lantern, uninjured. The majority, in fact fully ninety per cent, did not strike, 
but after dallying with the danger passed on, marking their progress westward by 
incessant chirping. Others were constantly arriving, heard at first faintly in the distance, 
then nearer, and finally joining the throng within the circle of light. | 
“Sept. 4. A clear cool day; the evening perfectly clear up to ten o’clock, when a 
heavy curtain of clouds rolled overhead from the North-west, and it became very dark. 
An hour later dense fog set in, and at midnight it began to rain, heavy showers suc- 
ceeding one another at frequent intervals. Wind south; puffy, at times strong. 
“As soon as the sky became overcast, small birds began to come about the light. 
Their numbers increased steadily from ten to eleven o'clock, but during this time the 
majority kept at a safe distance, and only two or three struck. With the advent of the 
fog they multiplied tenfold in the course of a few minutes. For the next hour from fifty 
to a hundred were constantly in sight, and from one to cight or ten dashing at the 
lantern. About seventy-five per cent struck the glass with slight force, fluttered down 
the pane, and dropped to the platform beneath, exhausted, but uninjured. After a 
moment’s rest these would make off with uncertain flight, usually disappearing in the 
darkness, sometimes returning and striking again, always harder the second time. 
About twenty per cent struck so forcibly as to injure themselves beyond hope of 
recovery, often, however, fluttering off the platform and down to the ground beneath. 
Not over five per cent were killed outright. None of the killed or wounded were defaced 
externally, but all had one eye slightly bulged out and more or less blood settled about 
