6 BRITISH BIRDS, WITH THEIR NESTS AND Eccs. 
with the viscid saliva secreted by the bird. The number of eggs is normally two ; 
four eggs have been found in one nest, but it has yet to be proved that they were 
the product of the same hen; they are somewhat elongated ovals of a dead white 
colour. Only one brood is reared in a year. The young are generally hatched 
in June. 
Swifts have been known to lay in the nest of the House Martin, as recorded 
by the late Mr. Bond and Mr. G. E. Lodge. The egg figured is from my 
collection. 
The food of the Swift consists of minute insects caught upon the wing, and 
when feeding its young it appears to store these up until it has secured a good 
mouthful: it does not seem to follow the practice of most birds which give their 
young little at a time though at short intervals, but satisfies their cravings with 
heavy meals occasionally, during the day. 
The Swift is incapable of song, but its scream is satisfying; having heard 
it, one wants to hear no more. 
In captivity this bird is of no value. In the first place it leaves the nest 
quite able to earn its own living; and, when captured, it refuses to be fed. In 
August, 1891, a young bird in pursuit of flies passed through an open window 
into my house, and, falling upon a perfectly smooth and level surface, could only 
tumble about helplessly. I picked it up and tried to persuade it to eat a blue- 
bottle fly, but it would not open its mouth; so I did this myself and inserted the 
fly, which it allowed to escape. I found, after one or two trials, that the only 
means by which I could compel it to eat was by opening its mouth wide, putting 
the food far back and holding its beak shut until, by the convulsive movement in 
its throat, I knew it had swallowed. The bird was insufferably stupid; and when 
I compelled it to fly in a room, it fluttered slowly round, striking the first piece 
of furniture which came in its way and falling to the ground, where it dragged 
itself about slowly, but was utterly unable to rise. Hancock’s and Naumann’s 
experiences were not mine; struggle as it might, the Swift could not lift itself 
from oilcloth or carpet; nor, when flying, did it make for the window. It died 
on the third day. 
