THE BIRD WORLD. 
Notes on 
Migration. 
(99) 
The other Falcon is stronger and more wary, 
and stoops like a flash of light, striking hard 
into poor Spearbills’s back and sending a bunch 
of feathers floating through the air. His mate 
now strikes again and “ binds on ” to Spearbill, 
and they all three come slowly down, buoyed by 
their splendid wings until they reach the ground. 
Spearbill feels his feet touch the earth, and quick 
as thought takes a firm stand and strikes with 
his long and terrible bill at the Falcons; but they 
know the trick of it, and loose Spearbill as he 
strikes, only to bind on to him again. Spear¬ 
bill can hardly hope to win against two enemies 
such as these, but he is young and tries to fight; 
but before he can do any damage to his foes he 
is caught round the neck by a man who has 
run up to help. Another man takes in the 
Falcons, and Spearbill, much frightened, but 
with little hurt, finds himself held firmly on the 
ground, while a ring is fixed to one of his legs; 
and much to his surprise, after the men have 
looked at him, he is loosed again, and away 
he goes, feeling somewhat dazed and very 
fearful until he gets back to the tree of his old 
home. 
(To be Continued.) 
Notes on. Migration. 
The migration of birds is a subject of never- 
ending interest to all students of wild-bird life, 
especially just now when thousands of feathered 
creatures will be shortly arriving on our shores 
from a warmer climate. The autumn migration 
is, however, the one of special interest to us, inas¬ 
much as we are able to see and mark some of 
the doings of the wanderers. We watch the 
Swallows and the Martins gather in enormous 
flocks, sunning themselves in the early sunshine 
of the cold autumn mornings, or perched in long 
rows on the telegraph wires by the roadside; 
or we see a restless company of Pipits or Wag¬ 
tails flitting about our fields and meadows a day 
or two before passing south, and these movements 
are interesting as being part of the migration. 
Residents nearer the sea have even a better oppor¬ 
tunity of studying the subject; they see the 
gathering flocks, not of one species only, but of 
many. Birds of quite opposite habits will frater¬ 
nise freely at this period, the Finches with the 
Owls, the tiny Goldcrests with our largest 
species, the graceful little Willow-Wrens with the 
bold Shrikes; they are all equally affected, all 
anxious to reach a distant land. Migration 
across the sea is not the only movoinent of bird 
life. In some countries (Switzerland, for in¬ 
stance), migration takes place from the moun¬ 
tains to the warmer valleys. In others the birds 
journey from the woods to the open fields, some 
from the coast to the inland districts. In our 
own land we have numerous instances of this 
migrating movement. 
Universality of Migration. 
Nearly every species - is more or less 
affected by it; the familiar Robin comes 
from the woods and the country side to the 
homestead; the Blackbirds and Thrushes that 
nested in our shrubbery have gone, and others of 
the same species have taken their places; the 
Grey Wagtail migrates from the mountain 
stream where he has spent the summer months 
to the brook by the lowland village; the Dunlin 
moves to the coast from the heaths and moors, 
the pretty Twite comes down from the moun¬ 
tains. The common Skylark is affected curiously ; 
enormous flocks pass over the seas, others move 
about the country, influenced in their movements 
by the vagaries of the weather and the food- 
supply. Most birds pass to the land their pre¬ 
decessors had wintered in before them; but some, 
like the Snow Bunting, wander aimlessly about, 
driven hither and thither by the severity of the 
weather; their true home is the north, and they 
do their best to get there, but are as frequently 
driven back. Yet, keeping as near the snow¬ 
line as possible, they subsist upon any seeds, buds 
or berries exposed to view. The route and des¬ 
tination of birds going to distant lands is worth 
a moment’s notice. 
The Beginnings of the Movement. 
Migration has been going on for ages, 
and in the far distance the movement was 
simply a movement of resident birds, and 
certain well-marked routes were used as they 
are at the present time in the continent of 
America. As the world gradually changed, the 
migration extended to lands farther south, but 
the routes used are still retained. The journey 
would increase as the cold extended, and in the 
summer the birds would strive to return to their 
northern homes. In this way well-marked routes 
would be passed from parents to children, and 
now we see some species making journeys of long, 
weary miles across boisterous seas, when by a 
little deviation in the route they could pass com¬ 
fortably from country to country. As an instance, 
many birds cross the North Sea, when by a slight 
change of route they could journey by the coast¬ 
line in their migration from Northern Russia- 
By following such odd roads birds must lose Iheir 
lives in numbers; hundreds must perish by the 
way. In spring they come from the south, from 
Africa and the South of Europe. In autumn the 
majority journey south, but many pass from east 
to west. Some follow the coast-line and strike 
across the open sea, others take the mountains or 
some great river as their guide and landmarks. 
Some fly by the light of day, others during the 
night, and at such times many crowd round the 
lanterns of our lighthouses. The subject is full 
of interest; the cause is undoubtedly the supply of 
food, but this does not explain all. Why does the 
bold Shrike, an apparently strong, lusty, bird, 
leave us when the summer sun is still shining, 
while some of the tiny Warblers who subsist 
almost solely upon small insects stay till the early 
frost compels them to go? 
