102 
MIGRATION OF SWALLOWS AND MARTINS. May, 1889. 
The question was soon answered. Walking nearer to 
Durlstone Point I watched for another party, which was not 
long in coming. They passed by me, and, as they neared the 
headland, rose in the air, higher and higher, not seeming to 
move onwards for a while, but simply circling round and 
rising, and then, at a great height, they set off over the sea 
in the direction of the Isle of Wight. I followed them with 
the glass till they were such tiny specks that it was painful 
to try and keep them in view. The cliff's of the island were 
at this time very distinctly visible. I watched one or two 
more parties follow in the same track ; but I was not alone 
and could not stay long—my kind host was with me, and 
friendship forbade that I should weary him. It was not 
until the morning of the 9th, that I was at liberty to spend 
an hour or two in the same spot in solitude ; and solitude, 
according to my experience, is almost essential to that 
patient watching which some of my Oxford friends call 
“taking the auspices.” 
As I left the house that morning, the hills were hidden in 
a soft mist, nor could I see anything of the Isle of Wight; 
it did not occur to me however at the moment that this 
might have some effect on the course taken by the birds. 
I was consequently rather taken by surprise, when I reached 
the cliffs about a mile west of Durlstone, and watched the 
first party that passed me, to find that instead of rising in the 
air and going out to sea, they turned back when they came 
near the headland, and still skimming close to the ground, 
and passing close to me as I sat sheltered from the wind 
under a wall, they made northwards over the hill towards the 
town of Swanage. After waiting a while, I saw another 
party take exactly the same course. They refused the sea- 
passage, and turned inland and northwards. The nature of 
the ground I was on prevented my watching them in this 
direction to any distance, and I could only stand there and 
wish that some kind wizard would turn me into a Swallow for 
but one hour, that I might follow in their track, and learn 
something of the ways and the minds of these little travellers. 
But it was a fair guess, that having refused the sea once, they 
would hug the land for some distance at least. 
The sun had now come out, and I sat down to enjoy it 
while waiting for a third company of Swallows. All the 
birds I saw that morning, I may say, were Swallows, not 
Martins ; and all of which I had a good view were young 
birds, so far as I could judge by their tails. Presently 
another series of ghostly little forms came gliding over me, 
and I at once jumped up and kept the binocular steadily on 
