The Flight 
of Birds. 
(160) THE BIRD WORLD. 
Gannet produces, as it seems, almost 
.entirely by the simple act of closing 
them. It is true that it is not quite 
.clear whether or no it gives some initial 
.downward impetus by the active pres¬ 
sure on the air of the wings in closing, 
but on the whole it seems rather as if 
i v were only the weight of The bird’s 
body, poised with head downwards, 
and presenting a shape ideal for cleav¬ 
ing the air with the least possible resist¬ 
ance, that sends it down into the sea 
upon the herring, or other fish which 
tempts its appetite, with a force that 
drives up a spout of water foaming, as 
if a mine had been exploded in the 
.ocean. 
Power of Direction. 
When this bird is returning to the 
ledges of its cliff-home, invariably, so 
far as the present writer has observed, 
it approaches them in the same manner 
—with a great swoop finishing in a con- 
.cave upward swerve so calculated that 
the impetus of flight is exhausted just 
as it carries the bird up to the ledge at 
which it is aiming. In its exactness it 
is beautifully regulated for this purpose. 
Yet if you place a Gannet on the level 
ground it is powerless to rise from it, 
in spite of the glory of its wings. Per¬ 
haps I had better say that on the one 
.or two occasions when I have seen the 
experiment tried the bird has seemed 
quite unable to raise itself into the air ; 
other experimenters with other more 
athletic Gannets may have come to a 
different conclusion. At all events, 
-we know of many kinds, first cousins to 
the Gannets in their formation, which 
are commonly recognised to be devoid 
.of the faculty of rising off a firm level 
surface, though their ability of flight is 
first-rate. 
Nature's Consideration. 
It is a faculty which the conditions of 
their ordinary life do not demand, for 
level ground is not within their philo¬ 
sophy in the natural state, and they re¬ 
quire some better “ send-off ”■—a “ higher 
tee,” as a golfer would say—such as the 
crest or swell of a wave or the ledge of 
a steep cliff. Even such swift fliers as 
all the Swallow tribe, and the Swift, 
which our latest classifying naturalists 
allow us no longer to place with the 
swallows, but make us rank with the 
Nightjar as his closest cousin, have no 
facility in rising off a level surface. 
This you may see in the familiar 
spectacle of Martins or Swallows pick¬ 
ing up in the road the mud for the 
making of their nests. It is only with 
evident effort and difficulty that they 
get on the wing. 
Charming and Delicate. 
As they fly to their nests, whether in 
the outhouse rafters which the Swallows 
affect, or under the eaves which is the 
favourite locality of the House Martins, 
the swift gliding flight, with its force 
and pace timed so exactly as to bring 
them to the nests with slackened speed, 
is beautiful to watch; but most charm¬ 
ing and delicate of all exhibitions of 
flight is the spectacle which either of 
these kinds will be giving a few weeks 
later, when the parent bird is feeding 
the young in the air. It is an action 
which involves a subtle regulation of the 
flight and poise even more accurately 
adjusted to its purpose than that of the 
Humming Bird hovering, with wings 
vibrating at invisible speed, before the 
flower into which it is plunging its long 
bill; for it implies a mutual adjustment 
on the part of both the parent and the 
young, the feeder and the fed. It seems 
as if they clung together for a moment 
of aerial suspension while the insect 
food was passed from the mature to the 
callow bill, and the receiving of the 
food in this manner by a young bird as 
soon as it leaves the nest is an object- 
lesson in inherited instinct which is 
scarcely less worthy of admiration than 
the perfection which it exhibits of winged 
mastery of the air. 
