344 PURPLE MARTIN. 
above the willows, and in a few minutes all is quiet, dark. The Martins have gone to 
rest, and we will not disturb them. It would be difficult work to penetrate these 
willow thickets at night. 
“The willows are about twenty feet high, and stand very close together. The 
ground is swampy in some places and it is covered all over with debris left by last 
year’s inundation. We shall try to see them leave the willows to-morrow morning. 
“It is 5 A. M., the stars have disappeared, with the exception of a few bright 
ones. We are on the bluffs opposite the sand-bar. The first break of day stands in the 
eastern horizon, but night still reigns west of us. This is the moment when the Martin 
leaves its roost. They are already coming over the river; a few voices only, then more 
and more, and now the whole air is filled with the short calls of Progne. They seem 
to be all around us, below and above, but we may strain our eyes in all directions, 
not a single bird can be discovered; it is too dark and the birds are to high above us. 
A few minutes later the bulk has passed, but it is getting lighter and we are able to 
see a few loiterers, mere dots passing the zenith, following the others in a north- 
westerly or ‘westerly direction. A few minutes more, the last will be gone and no 
Martin will be seen at this place before 5 P. M. . 
“After migration has thus begun, it will be good for us to visit the scene of rendez- 
vous every day. The Martins begin to arrive at 5 P. M.; they arrive mostly low above 
the water, comparatively few are coming at some height. As soon as a few hundred 
are together, they begin to sit down on the sand. In the beginning they are pretty 
restless, changing their places every few minutes, sometimes flying up in a cloud to 
settle down at or near the same spot again. If we are watching them now from a 
place south of the bar, we notice that not all settle down again. After swinging a few 
circles, part of the flock detaches itself from the rest, and, heading south, soon dis- 
appears in that direction. Although the number remains about the same for two weeks, 
we soon find that a change has been going on from the beginning. As early as Sept. 1 
we become aware that we have almost entirely to do with birds of the year. The old 
birds, the old males, at least, have mostly left. 
“The most imposing sight may be had by disturbing the army at the moment 
when all have settled on the sand. The whole mass goes up in a body, turning right 
and left, forms two mighty streams which unite above the water in a great whirlpool, 
rushes up and down, sweeping along the river to a distant point, then coming back 
again like a huge cloud, which moves hither and thither until the neutral tint of night 
allows the safe retreat. On Sept. 7 and 8 the number of Martins present was still as 
large, or larger, than ever. After the sultry, stormy weather of Sept. 9 and 10 a cold 
north-west wind reduced the temperature to 66° on the 11th, and on this evening the 
Martins assembled on the sand-bar for the last time. The number was much smaller 
than usual, and when the cloud rose from the bank at 6 P. M. comparatively few 
returned. On the 12th no Martin was sitting on the bar, but about a hundred flocked 
together low above the water near the bar and disappeared soon, moving slowly in a 
southerly direction. The same took place on all the following days. Small flocks began 
to collect at 5:30 and disappeared after staying about the neighborhood until a little 
after 6 P. M. The last were seen on the 18th, but only a few, and none to-day (19th).”’ 
