346 THE ENGLISH SPARROW IN AMERICA, 



[FROM "THE HOUSE SPARROW" (PART 2), BY COL. C. RUSSELL.] 



To give one instance, a few years ago, seeing Sparrows about a few martins' nests 

 on a new small house near my own, I asked the man who lived there whether he 

 liked the Sparrows. He said, "I hate them, and am throwiug stones at them all 

 day, but can not keep them from the martins' nests." I lent him a gun. His son, a 

 boy about twelve years old, took kindly to shooting the Sparrows, killed, I think, 

 nearly two hundred in less than a month, and always kept the place free from them. 

 In two years there were twenty-four martins' nests on the house. The man then 

 died, and the next tenant, having no son to shoot the Sparrows, did not trouble 

 himself about the martins, and the Sparrows cleared them all out in one season. 

 The martins have often built a few nests, but I do not think that any young ones 

 have flown there since. 



The martins, which feed exclusively on insects, if left in possession of their nests, 

 would, unlike many other birds, increase with the population of the country and 

 number of houses. Besides the persecution by Sparrows, there is no condition un- 

 favorable to the martins except that when, with their natural confidence in man — too 

 often misplaced — they make their nests close to windows or doors for protection 

 people commonly destroy them, thus completing the exterminating work of the Spar- 

 rows. I have heard it said u they come there for mischief; they might build any- 

 where else." Few seem to notice that, unless where Sparrows dare not come, the 

 martins can not keep a nest. The only thing which saves these birds from total ex- 

 termination in this country seems to be this: they sometimes manage to rear a late 

 brood after the "fell adversary to house martins" (as White, of Selborne, rightly 

 called the Sparrow) has left off nesting and betaken himself to the wheat-fields. But 

 in this way the martins are kept here too long, and sometimes, before their young 

 can fly, are caught by sharp frost in October and die. The last numerous colony that 

 I knew of, within a few miles of my house, was thus cleared out a few years ago, 

 while my martins, protected from Sparrows, and always getting their young off in 

 good time, took no harm. 



About my premises the martins, formerly numerous, as elsewhere, became fewer and 

 fewer, until in 1869 they had nearly disappeared, young ones flying, I think, from only 

 two nests — one close to a window, the other to a door. Towards the end of May, 

 1870, several nests, freshly built under the eaves of the pigeon-house, their favorite 

 place, were all found to be in the possession of Sparrows. The indignation with 

 which I had seen this persecution all my life at last boiled over, and, resolving that 

 the martins should have one safe place, I began to protect them by killing down the 

 Sparrows. It was a hard fight at first; the martins' nests had to be watched almost 

 constantly, and, if I remember rightly, one hundred and fifty Sparrows were shot — 

 mostly about these nests— in about a fortnight. War has been waged against them 

 ever since. The first year or two we did not take the trouble to kill them in winter, 

 but this did not answer; a great number lived about the place, many roosting in the 

 martins' nests. When we began shooting the Sparrows in spring they would all go 

 away for a day or two, but kept coming back again, so that constant watchfulness 

 for weeks was required to kill them down. The plan was therefore adopted of pay- 

 ing a penny for shooting each Sparrow as soon as it shows itself all the year round. 

 They are shot with very small charges of dust shot, mostly from inside doors and 

 windows, or from loop-holes, made to command the places they generally come to. 

 They dislike this practice, and do not come much — less and less every year. The 

 plan has been most successful. The place is wonderfully free from Sparrows — some- 

 times we do not see one for weeks together — and the martins have increased in num- 

 bers, till last year they had one hundred and seventy nests about my house and 

 buildings, and this year there are two hundred and thirty-seven, and more will be 

 built yet. 



