34 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
wonderful migration journeys. For 
instance, the American Golden Plover 
hies him 1,000 miles north of the Arctic 
circle, arriving- there in early June. 
After breeding among the barren rocks 
and ice-fields he starts south and is back 
in Labrador in August feeding on the 
erow-berry or curlew-berry, of which he 
is very fond. A few weeks later we 
find him hastening through Xova Scotia 
to the sea, from whence he takes a bee 
line for eastern South America, stop¬ 
ping nowhere, unless it may be in Ber¬ 
muda or the Lesser Antilles in this most 
wonderful Right of 2,400 miles. When 
he left Labrador he was plump and 
round but when he reaches Brazil he is 
lank and lean indeed and glad to stop 
and rest and feast a few weeks when he 
moves on again to Argentine or Pata¬ 
gonia. There lie remains until March, 
when lie 1 starts for his northern breeding 
grounds. This time he chooses a land 
rather than a water route and travels by 
way of Central America, Mexico, Texas, 
the Mississippi Valley and British 
Columbia. Just think of one small bird 
making this journey of 8,000 miles by 
land and sea, each year. 
Many thousands of land birds are 
killed each year during migration by 
being caught in storms while crossing 
the larger bodies of water. On a Sun- 
day two years ago in May a violent wind 
a,nd rain storm raged all day and night, 
here in western Michigan, and on Mon- 
dav morning the 1 shore of Lake Michi¬ 
gan, for about five miles from Little 
Point Sauble Light north beyond Juni¬ 
per Beach was literally strewn with the 
battered bodies of thousands of War¬ 
blers, chiefly Magnolia, and Flycatchers 
migrating and evidently caught in the 
storm while crossing from Indiana or 
Illinois. Of course shore birds being ac¬ 
customed to long ocean flights do not 
meet with this kind of catastrophe; but 
all feathered creatures seem prone to 
destruction by flying against high towers 
and monuments. It is said to be no un¬ 
usual thing, any morning during migra¬ 
tion, to pick up 100 or more dead birds 
at the foot of Washington Monument. 
Thousands of night migrants are killed 
each season at the various lighthouses 
along the coasts ; especially is this true 
of stormy nights, when the birds seem 
to be bewildered by the dazzling light. 
One curious fact is that all birds avoid 
a red light, seeming to regard it as a 
danger signal. 
During the night of Sept. 14, 1909, 
there was quite a gale of wind along 
the west Michigan coast; and in the 
morning Keeper Hunter at Little Point 
Sauble Light picked up about 100 lifeless 
birds at the base of the tower. Many 
were too badly mangled to be identified; 
but about 60 were quite perfect. There 
proved to be 20 distinct species among 
them, chiefly Warblers, \ ireos and 
Thrushes. Most of the birds are com¬ 
mon in our locality, but there were a few 
rare ones, notably a White Rumped 
Sandpiper and the Cape May, Con¬ 
necticut, Bay-breasted, Yellow-throated, 
Black-poll and Orange-crowned War¬ 
blers. 
Now all our merry summer songsters 
are gone; and we are left alone in the 
winter of our discontent save for the 
cheering presence of the jolly Chickadee, 
the friendly Woodpecker, the tiny 
Creeper, the still more tiny Kinglet and 
a few more brave ones whose new 
warm feather coats seem to make them 
forget winters chilling blasts. Let us 
remember that these little creatures are 
indeed our neighbors and share with 
them at least our crumbs. 
