WAYS OF NATURE 
a little and bring him up more squarely to the mark 
next time. 
The swift is a stiff flyer: there appear to be no 
joints in her wings; she suggests something made of 
wires or of steel. Yet the air of frolic and of super- 
abundance of wing-power is more marked with her 
than with any other of our birds. Her feeding and 
twig-gathering seem like asides in a life of endless 
play. Several times both in spring and fall I have 
seen swifts gather in immense numbers toward night- 
fall, to take refuge in large unused chimney-stacks. 
On such occasions they seem to be coming together 
for some aerial festival or grand celebration; and, as 
if bent upon a final effort to work off a part of their 
superabundant wing-power before settling down for 
the night, they circle and circle high above the chim- 
ney-top, a great cloud of them, drifting this way and 
that, all in high spirits and chippering as they fly. 
Their numbers constantly increase as other members 
of the clan come dashing in from all points of the 
compass. Swifts seem to materialize out of empty 
air on all sides of the chippering, whirling ring, as 
an hour or more this assembling of the clan and this 
flight festival go on. The birds must gather in from 
whole counties, or from half a State. They have 
been on the wing all day, and yet now they seem as 
tireless as the wind, and as if unable to curb their 
powers. 
One fall they gathered in this way and took refuge 
10 
