184 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 

THE VIOLET-GREEN OR WHITE-BREASTED 
SWALLOW 
By. WILLIAM L. FINLEY 
swallows have returned to their summer homes. For several 
years, I have watched the violet-green swallows return to my 
bird houses. There is no doubt in my mind that the same birds 
return to the same places year after year. I have known this on 
account of peculiarities of birds, their methods of building and the 
places they have built. 
What a sense of location the swallow has, for his journey from 
the South leads him through trackless paths of unmeasured regions 
of the skies; yet he has some compass and sign posts that seem to guide 
him. I have often wondered how, from his lofty course, he knows just 
when he gets back to his old home. I have often wondered where 
he spends the night. If it rains, he will disappear for a week as 
suddenly as he came. But the minute another bright day dawns, I 
know he will be down around my orchard and he will remain till 
the summer is past. No wonder people used to think the swallows 
dived into the mud to spend the winter; they appear so suddenly 
and are away again so mysteriously. 
One thing that is necessary to a violet-green’s nest is a bed of 
feathers. These are always handier to get about the farm yard. I 
generally keep a good supply of these on hand when the swallows 
are nesting. When I stand on the hillside and blow up the feathers, 
they ask for nothing better. The swallows skim past and eatch 
them before they touch the ground. When the feathers begin to 
appear, it isn’t many moments till half a. dozen swallows are in 
the game. They flit back and forth and soon become tame enough 
to take the feathers the instant they leave my hand. Then oceasion- 
Te: Oregon, by the first week in March the first violet-green 
