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| 1961 School Extensions Magazine Index |

The Swallow
Edward O'Gorman, IA

I am one of the swallows that journeys from a farm in East Anglia to South Africa every autumn. It is a long and hazardous trip and many of my friends never make it. Seventeen of us collect on the telegraph wires outside, over the roof of the barn. When at last we are all ready, we fly off. Sometimes a little group of people from the farm collect to see us off. Green fields drift away from under our wings, and very soon we see the houses and buildings of small districts outside London spread themselves out under us.

We are now flying in a slight south-westerly direction, to join the main stream of birds which is heading directly towards the English Channel. We did not cross London, but decided to join up with the others on the coast.

Unfortunately, however, our timing was wrong, and we realised that the others must have gone through or else had not arrived yet. It was an anxious moment. Should we wait and see whether they would arrive or take a chance on them having already gone past. We decided to wait for a while and if they did not turn up, to fly on. Well, we waited for about two hours before starting off toward the French coast. From then on the trouble began. A storm was brewing and we were forced to lose height. Sixteen of us staggered, tired and mournful, into a small fishing village near Calais. The seventeenth had given up a couple of miles from safety. So tired was he that it was only with faintly flapping wings that the poor bird crashed into the sea. He was so weak that the impact probably killed him. This is only one of thousands of birds that die on migration.

After quite a long rest we carried on. Unfortunately the weather was deteriorating again, and so progress was slow. Germany was worse. Three of the others were tiring rapidly and there was no place to rest except in the forests which would have meant death to any tired bird. It seemed to be just endless miles of pine forests. This was what many of us termed “The black heart of Germany.” Eventually, and not a moment too soon, a town loomed up in front of us. It was one of Germany's industrial towns and it is a resting place for many swallows who make this journey every year.

When we left Europe there were only thirteen of us left. Easily the most pleasant part of our journey was through Italy. It was the pleasant climate that pleased us all. Eventually Africa loomed in sight from the blue waters of the Mediterranean. After a couple of hours the dry climate began to tell and by the end of that exhausting journey through Africa there were only four of us left. That is migration. But why do we migrate? It is, of course, by instinct. But the reason why swallows migrate to Africa is because of the abundancy of insects in that country all the year round. If that is true, then, why do we return to England in the Spring? Again it is instinct. But the real reason is because of the African summer. Young swallows have very rapid digestions and need large quantities of food. They cannot live for very long without it, and, indeed, it is well known that even if they are kept without food for eight hours they will die of starvation. Because the African summer days are so short and we cannot go and hunt at night, if we stayed in Africa the young would surely die. So, those are some of the problems of a swallow on migration, and it isn't exactly a holiday.


| 1961 School Extensions Magazine Index |
 
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