2 THE AUDUBON BULLETIN 
An Incident 
of the Cliff Swallow 
Mary M. STEAGALL 
N the face of an almost perpendicular clay wall, some hundred feet 
high, which les along a wooded stream, miner bees are accustomed 
to make extensive excavations. Here a single pair of cliff swallows 
had dug a nest. 
One evening, with a picnic party at the top of this cliff, I noticed 
that the swallow was seriously disturbed, as I supposed, by the com- 
pany and the fire. It made great circles in the upper air. These always 
ended at the mouth of its hole, where it always delivered a most 
heart-rending scream. ‘These actions continued during our stay on 
the cliff. 
It was the opportunity for my ornithology class to see a cliff swallow’s 
nest, a rare thing in this vicinity; so next morning at seven we were ap- 
proaching the cliff, and saw the bird still making his circles, and giving 
his queer cries. Before we reached the cliff, however, these ceased and 
the bird disappeared. On climbing up to the hole, instead of swallows, 
two beady black eyes looked out at us from the hole. We began an in- 
vestigation and the eyes disappeared, but we came to the limp, lifeless 
form of the recently killed bird. Digging into the cliff farther, we found 
what we were pleased to call the mother bird, stark cold with eight in- 
sects in her half open mouth. These she had evidently been carrying 
to her nestlings. Farther in, these were found, lifeless all, without sign 
of injury on the body of any bird. A piteous sight! We felt like punish- 
ing the offender, so continued our digging. No avenue of escape could 
be seen, even when the cliff was cut smooth beyond the nest; only the 
mellow wood of an old root. We followed this for three feet back, and 
the boys were able to lay hold of the tail of an adult weasel. This animal 
they dragged out, and choked to death for his misdemeanors. After 
photographing him along with his five victims, one of the boys mounted 
his skin for the museum, while one of the girls identified among the in- 
sects of the mother-bird’s mouth, two crane-flies and three mosquitoes. 
The other three were beyond identification. We all thought of J. G. 
Holland’s lines: 
“Life evermore is fed by death, 
In earth, and sea, and sky; 
And that a rose may breathe its breath 
Something must die.” 
