NATURE NOTES. 
roar of a waterfall. Then again they would divide, each flock 
for a time performing separately. 
In all the graceful and complicated manoeuvres executed by 
these large flocks of starlings, what strikes one most is the 
wonderful unity of action, the precision with which every move- 
ment is accomplished. One dominant and irresistible will 
seems to pervade and direct the movements of a flock contain- 
ing perhaps many thousand individuals.* . At one moment the 
flock at a distance will appear as a dense black mass ; at the 
next, in the twinkling of an eye, it becomes almost invisible. 
In the first instance every bird has its back turned towards the 
spectator, presenting the greatest possible extent of surface ; in 
the second all turn simultaneously edgeways, as it were, ex- 
posing the minimum amount of surface, and letting the light 
stream through between them. Suddenly there is a sort of 
flash, and the flock is black and impenetrable as before. After 
wheeling in graceful spiral curves, spreading out into long 
attenuated columns, splitting up into small detachments and 
again joining company, and going through endless changes of 
form, the whole army of starlings at last descends, and every 
bird seeks his place among the sheltering reeds. 
There is something very noticeable and interesting in this 
exuberance of spirits, this supreme joyousness, expressed in 
various ways by many birds just at the close of day. On fine 
spring evenings, especially after rain, the thrushes and black- 
birds sing most gloriously ; they seem completely carried away by 
their feelings, and unable until long after sunset to bring their 
jubilant music to a close. But even after their tuneful voices 
are at last all hushed for the night, and it has grown almost too 
dark to distinguish the singer, there may even yet be heard that 
sweet fragment of bird music, the robin’s evensong. Flying to 
the top of some hedge or wall, the little vocalist pours forth his 
short but melodious and impressive song, and then makes for 
his roosting place among the ivy on some old wall, or in some 
thick-growing box or holly. 
The merry roving bands of linnets, after foraging abroad all 
day among stubbles and furze-covered commons, act in like 
manner. As the autumn sun sinks into the blue hazy horizon, 
and the whole landscape is for a few moments lit up by his 
parting glow, they all fly up into the nearest tree or hedge, wipe 
their beaks on a branch, and troll out a succession of quaint but 
musical notes, pitched far below those of the robin, and of a 
quality of tone differing from that of most other birds. Rooks, 
before settling for the night, sometimes express the exuberance 
of their feelings in a manner peculiar, I think, to themselves. 
After mounting to a great height in the air, they close their 
wings and fall headlong for some distance, suddenly arresting 
* This is more or less observable with many other birds when congregated in 
large flocks, such as dunlins, golden plovers, various kinds of wild fowl, &c. 
