ABOUT SWALLOWS.

Evening Star, Issue 15906, 11 September 1915, Page 2

ABOUT SWALLOWS.

Spking is flowering everywhere. Its hargingers are seen and felt, in all directions Chief among these are the birds. They are all alive and alert. While the frost was stilt white on the ground we watched them making love and gathering materials for their new home. They felt sure that tho promise was not with the snow and the ice and the winter, but with the warmth and the summer. Brave fatseeing, faith, with Its lesson for all. Though thei birds hero prophesy of spring, yet it is in Britain that one needs to be to learn the wonder of their numbers and Variety. As winter retires wave after wave of migrants begin to arrive from the far north. Of the multitudes and mysteries of these winged wanderers we know next to nothing here. More's | the pity. And deepest regret of all, we never see the swallow. Will some of our ornithological friends itell us why tho swallow does not come to New Zealand. At least we think that it does not. Durincr a residence in the south of nearly two-soore years, we never remember having seen a swallow here—unless perhaps once, and even of that we are not sure. How is it they do not come here? They come to Australia and to Tasmania, but as far as we are aware they never visit this Dominion. Is it because of an absence of food conditions? We hardly think that can be the reason—for there is unfortunately abundance of flies on which they feed. Or is it because New Zealand is not in the sphere of their accustomed migrations? Whatever the reason, to those who know anything of them it is an immense regret that there light-loving birds, which bring the sunshine on their wings, pass us by. The present writer loves them, and since he is denied the pleasure of seeing them he may be allowed to recall some memories and lore connected with them. ******* To begin with their name. Richard Jeffries, who has done justice to their charm and beauty, says that swallow means "porch bird." Skeat6, however, thinks that the word is derived from or related to a Greek root, which means to shake, to move to and fro, or up and down, like a ship at sea. This is more likely, for it represents tho action of the bird. The Greeks, who had a song for everything, had one for the swallow. The boys used to go from house to house singing it. With a carried wooden picture of the bird on the end of a stick they sang : She is here! She is here! j The swallow that brings the beautiful year! Wide open the door! We are children again; we are old no more. And truly such a sentiment was becoming, for the swallow is the very incarnation of life—of life in its loveliness, joy, agility, to the veiy tips of its being. Who that has ever seen these birds on the wing can doubt that! The nimblenesa, the rapidity of flight, tho lightness of touch with which they flick the surface of water, delicately, as with a camel's hair brush, and skim away. Endlessly tossing and flinging themselves in an immense abandon of delight through all the sunny hours, they are indeed the very incarnation of life in its fullness and intensity. There axe four species of the bird. There is the sand martin, which arrives in Britain early in April. It will be seen scurrying over broad sheets of water or rivers, near to which are banks of sandy soil, where it rests. It is followed .a little later by the chimney swallow, with his white belly and red patch under his throat. Along with it comes the martin, and then later the swift, a much bigger and noisieT bird, the last to arrive and the first to go. ******* The nest,-; and nesting habits of swallows are very curious. The former are built of clay or mud. They are built under the eaves of houses or in the rafters of the barn or byre. But the birds vary in their tastes as to locations for their homes. They havo been known to build on a clothes rail that had been leaning up against the gable of a house, and on the bracket placed for holding a lamp close to the kitchen dooT, and were undisturbed even by the lighting of the lamp. The manipulation of the clay is a curious process. It is mixed with the saliva of their mouths and bits of straw, and bent to make it more adhesive- The process is a somewhat lengthy one. Every morning they start building by the first streak of dawn, and as soon as tho sun is up they stop. The purpose of that is to give the layers that they have laid down time to dry and consolidate. The birds' wisdom and patience in this matter of building its home has a lesson for us all. A writer in the 'Spectator' some years-ago says that he believes the bird swallows the mud. He watched a martin pushing its bill some eight or ten inches along the mud, as if it were shcvelling it down its throat. He suggests with reason that this is more likely, for the amount of saliva available in the bill for its purpose would be practically useless, whereas by swallowing it would get mixed with the mucus in its crop, and could be brought up in the same way as when it is feeding its younc. They will come back to the same nest year after year. How they manage to keep the exa-ct spot in memory and return to it unfailingly across long leagues of sea. and land is one of the many wonders associated with these delightful •little birds. Sometimes their claim is "jumped" by strangers. One of these latter once succeeded in dispossessing the rightful owners. There was a battle royal for a week or so. Then the original possessors were observed to be busily lessening the entrance into the nest. At last it was so reduced that it was with difficulty they could manage to squeeze in. When they had accomplished their purpose, one or other of them always remained within, and with its bill sticking out like a spear point repelled all invaders. Possession was not only in this case nine points of the law, but absolute. But another pair of swallows went one better even than that. A sparrow, with its usual cheek, had monopolised the nest, and the rightful owners could not drive him out. One rooming the latter arrived with reinforcements, their mouths distended with tempered clay. They plastered up the entire entrance, and punished the robber with imprisonment for lifel * * * * * * * They are full of fun, too, these swallows. Watch them fooling a cat. This creature is hated by all birds, and deservedly so. But the swallows delight to tantalise her with their foolery. The cat dearly loves to sit in the stretch herself lazily out in some cosy spot. .That is the opportunity of the swallow. You will see them gathering to bait her. One of them will come close to her ear, and she will strike at it with her paw. But swift as she is, the swallow is swifter. Then after a few seconds another will come' and repeat the same movement,. and then another, and another, until there is a regular circle of them whirling'about'her and chuckling like a fcjekled child. The cat vainly attempts i. to catch any of them, Ajo4 at last, tor-

mented out of her ease and fooled by these little birds, she slinks away discomfited, the swallowß following her up on the. run and flicking her till her run becomes an ignominous rout. Then they sit down on the top of the roof ■or on the fence and chuckle and laugh at their exploits. Their method of gathering food is remarkable. Nature has provided them with a beak admirably suited for their purpose. It is short, and so weak as to be almost soft, but of great size, compared with the rest of the body. It is sometimes said of certain people that they have not merely a mouth from ear to ear, but from here to there. In the caso of the swift it is so wide that when it opens it there is not much of its body seen. All this is the wise provision' of Nature to enable the bird to secure its food. Swallows feed on flies, and they have little more to do than to fly open-mouthed and close their beaks on the insects which cross their path. The clicking beak of the former may be heard by an attentive listener on a calm day. The quantity of flies which they can devour in a day must be measured almost by quarts. Spiders also form part of their food. This may seem surprising till we remember that spiders rise high into the air, sometimes hundreds of feet. The swallows are an excellent barometer. When they fly low it is because the altitude of the insects on which they feed is determined by the state of the atmosphere. When it is damp and moist they come down; when it is clear and dry they ascend. And so the fly of the swallow is a sure weather gauge. And it is when they are so flying that they exhibit one of their greatest wonders. To realise this one must read Jeffries'charming essay on 'Swallow Time.' He points out the tremendous difficulties that the bird must overcome. As we say, it takes its life in its hand at every stage of these low flights. If we were to" shoot an arrow at a slight elevation above the earth it would not go far till it came in contact with something—thistles, hedges, trees, etc. How easy a swallow flying a foot or two above the ground manages to escape all these. His swiftness high up is astonishing. But he is going even at a more rapid rate when he is flying low above the earth. Watch him as "he skims up a lane, across a field, and flings himself over a fence or over a gate. _ He never hesitates, never pauses—on and on, back and forward, he skims and darts in his arrowy flight. He will go on like this for hours at a stretch. We must allow Jeffries to describe this wonder. The whole time as he floats and glides and wheels his eye is intent on insects so small as to bo invisible to us at a very short distance. ... If still further we were to consider the flow of the nerve force between the eye and the mind and the wing, we should be face to face with problems that quite upset the ideas of matter as a solid thing. How is it that dull matter becomes thus inexpressibly sensitive? Is nit the swallow's eye a miracle? Then his heart, for he sings as he flies; he makes love and converses as he rushes along—his hopes, his fears, his little store of knowledge, and his wonderful journey by sky to Africa. He carries his life in his wings, for if by chance he shojld strike a solid object his great speed renders the collision certain death. It stuns him, or, if he recovers, his beak is so broken that he must starve to death. Such accidents are rare. Then the rapid beating of his heart renders it peculiarly sensitive to death from shock. Great fright'will sometimes kill a bird, as, for instance, when they have wandered inside a room and have been held thoughtlessly in someone's hand. Without visible injury, the heart, after beating excessively violently, almost as rapidly slows, the nictitating membrane hj drawn over tho eyes, the head falls to one side—the bird becomes lifeless from nervous exhaustion. The beautiful swallows! Be tender to them, for they symbolise all that is best in Nature and all that is best in our hearts.