air retained the piercing chill of winter. I chanced one morning early
to go to my retreat. The sun's glowing rays gave a rich colouring to
every object around. As I entered the cave, a rustling sound over my
head attracted my attention, and, on turning, I saw two birds fly off, and
alight on a tree close by : — the Pewees had arrived ! I felt dehghted,
and fearing that my sudden appearance might disturb the gentle pair, I
walked off', not, however, without frequently looking at them. I con-
cluded that they must have just come, for they seemed fatigued : — their
plaintive note was not heard, their crests were not erected, and the vibra-
tion of the tail, so very conspicuous in this species, appeared to be want-
ing in power. Insects were yet few, and the return of the birds looked
to me as prompted more by their affection to the place, than by any other
motive. No sooner had I gone a few steps than the Pewees, with one ac-
cord glided down from their perches and entered the cave. I did not re-
turn to it any more that day, and as I saw none about it, or in the
neighbourhood, I supposed that they must have spent the day within it.
I concluded also that these birds must have reached this haven, either du-
ring the night, or at the very dawn of that morn. Hundreds of obser-
vations have since proved to me that this species always migrates by
night.
Filled with the thoughts of the little pilgrims, I went early next morn- ing to their retreat, yet not early enough to surprise them in it. Lono- before I reached the spot, my ears were agreeably saluted by their well- known note, and I saw them darting about through the air, giving chase to some insects close over the water. They were full of gaiety, fre- quently flew into and out of the cave, and while alighted on a favourite tree near it, seemed engaged in the most interesting converse. The light fluttering or tremulous motions of their wings, the jetting of their tail, the erection of their crest, and the neatness of their attitudes, all indicated that they were no longer fatigued, but on the contrary refreshed and happy. On my going into the cave, the male flew violently towards the entrance, snapped his bill sharply and repeatedly, accompanying this ac- tion with a tremulous rolling note, the import of which I soon guessed. Presently he flew into the cave and out of it again, with a swiftness scarcely credible : it was like the passing of a shadow.
Several days in succession I went to the spot, and saw with pleasure that as my visits increased in frequency, the birds became more familiarized to me, and, before a week had elapsed, the Pewees and myself
