THE PURPLE MARTIN. 171 



1 Oth or 1 5th of April, and sometimes suffer from unexpected returns of frost. 

 At Philadelphia, they are first seen about the 10th of April. They reach 

 Boston about the 25th, and continue their migration much farther north, as 

 the spring continues to open. 



On their return to the Southern States, they do not require to wait for 

 warmer days, as in spring, to enable them to proceed, and they all leave the 

 above-mentioned districts and places about the 20th of August. They assem- 

 ble in parties of from fifty to a hundred and fifty, about the spires of churches 

 in the cities, or on the branches of some large dead tree about the farms, for 

 several days before their final departure. From these places they are seen 

 making occasional sorties, uttering a general cry, and inclining their course 

 towards the west, flying swiftly for several hundred yards, when suddenly 

 checking themselves in their career, they return in easy sailings to the same 

 tree or steeple. They seem to act thus for the purpose of exercising them- 

 selves, as well as to ascertain the course they are to take, and to form the 

 necessary arrangements for enabling the party to encounter the fatigues of 

 their long journey. Whilst alighted, during these days of preparation, they 

 spend the greater part of the time in dressing and oiling their feathers, clean- 

 ing their skins, and clearing, as it were, every part of their dress and body 

 from the numerous insects which infest them. They remain on their roosts 

 exposed to the night air, a few only resorting to the boxes where they have 

 been reared, and do not leave them until the sun has travelled an hour or 

 two from the horizon, but continue, during the fore part of the morning, to 

 plume themselves with great assiduity. At length, on the dawn of a calm 

 morning, they start with one accord, and are seen moving due west or south- 

 west, joining other parties as they proceed, until there is formed a flock 

 similar to that which I have described above. Their progress is now much 

 more rapid than in spring, and they keep closer together. 



It is during these migrations, reader, that the power of flight possessed by 

 these birds can be best ascertained, and more especially when they encounter 

 a violent storm of wind. They meet the gust, and appear to slide along the 

 edges of it, as if determined not to lose one inch of what they have gained. 

 The foremost front the storm with pertinacity, ascending or plunging along 

 the skirts of the opposing currents, and entering their undulating recesses, as 

 if determined to force their way through, while the rest follow close behind, 

 all huddled together into such compact masses as to appear like a black spot. 

 Not a twitter is then to be heard from them by the spectator below; but the 

 instant the farther edge of the current is doubled, they relax their efforts, to 

 refresh themselves, and twitter in united accord, as if congratulating each 

 other on the successful issue of the contest. 



The usual flight of this bird more resembles that of the Hirundo urbiea 



