98 
MIGRATION OF SWALLOWS AND MARTINS. May, 1889. 
On September 20tli, 1887, while staying at West Lulwortli, 
half way between Weymouth and Swanage, I discovered that 
every Swallow and Martin which I saw was steadily travelling 
eastwards. They travelled in parties of from fifty to two 
hundred, just as I had seen them in the Alps, and as they are 
described in the “ Migration Keports.” I could trace these 
parties for a long distance with my glass, as I stood on a long 
and narrow ridge of down some five hundred feet above the 
sea; their general direction was always due east, though they 
seemed to follow pretty closely the long line of the down, 
which curves somewhat inland eastwards from Lulwortli. 
The whole day they continued to pass, not in a continuous 
stream, but in these great packs, which at one moment were 
over my head and all around me, and in two or three minutes 
had almost unawares made half a mile’s progress eastwards. 
They did not, of course, fly straight ahead in a direct course ; 
they seemed to be ever dallying and circling round, sweeping 
backwards ; yet you only had to keep a vigilant eye on them 
to discover that they were all the time moving onwards, and 
travelling at a rate which I guessed to be not much less than 
ten miles an hour. 
On that day the wind was easterly, and therefore dead 
against them; but it was a gentle breeze, and they were able 
to fly without apparent effort at a considerable height. The 
next day the wind was stronger; and on the third day, if I 
recollect right, it was very keen and cold, and instead of soar¬ 
ing they changed their tactics and took to skimming low 
along the steep flanks of the down. From my post of 
vantage at the top, I watched with interest the way in which 
these delicate little birds withstood and conquered the force 
of a strong head wind. I can see them even now creeping 
along the shaggy sunburnt sides of that noble breezy down, 
tacking this way and that, now deep in the grassy hollows, 
now steering swiftly upwards, now yielding to the gale for a 
moment in a backward curve, but ever steadily pressing 
onwards. Some preferred a belt of lower ground between the 
down and the sea; but I noticed that where this comes to an 
end and the down itself falls again in precipitous cliffs direct 
into the waves, they all turned inwards again, hugging the 
hill, and not venturing to cross even a mile or two of sea to 
the further arm of the bay in the face of such a wind. 
All this was so interesting that I wondered that I had 
never observed the same thing during previous visits to 
Lulwortli in September. Diaries kept during those visits 
were at hand, but showed no trace of any such migration. 
Possibly I had missed the exact days on which the birds 
