The Bank Swallow 
precipitates an entire colony—at least its real and personal property— 
to destruction. 
June is the nesting month, and this whether the colony elects to 
breed on a Santa Barbara sea-cliff (where March would do just as well) 
or within the Arctic Circle (where it is June or nothing). June seems to 
be a sort of. sacrament which keeps this widely dispersed species bound 
together. How diverse are the conditions under which these stout¬ 
hearted gypsies will consent to live, may be realized from two record 
stations of the West: Alford in Inyo County, where the mercury owns 
a friendly acquaintance with no; and the Kowak River in Alaska, 
where, as Grinnell testifies, their nesting burrows do not exceed 
twelve inches, because the ground beyond that is frozen. 
Bank Swallows 
Taken near Santa Barbara 
A NESTING CLIFF 
Photo by the A uthor 
are the least musical of the Swallow kind,—unless, perhaps, we except 
the Rough-winged species, which is naturally associated in mind with 
this. They have, nevertheless, a characteristic twitter, an unmelodious 
sound, like the rubbing together of two pebbles. An odd effect is pro¬ 
duced when the excited birds are describing remonstrant parabolas at 
an intruder’s head. The heightened pitch in the tones of the rapidly 
approaching bird, followed instantly by the lower tone of full retreat, 
is enough to startle a slumbering conscience in one who meditates mis¬ 
chief on a Swallow’s home. 
535 
