Up to the present time it has not been ascertained from what place the storks come, or whither they go when they leave us. There can be no doubt but that, like the cranes, they come from a very great distance, the cranes being our winter, the storks our summer, guests. When about to take their departure, the storks assemble at a stated place, and are particularly careful that all shall attend, so that not one of their kind may be left behind, with the exception of such as may be in captivity or tamed; and then on a certain day they set out, as though they were by some law directed to do so. No one has ever yet seen a flight of cranes taking their departure, although they have been often observed preparing to depart; and in the same way, too, we never see them arrive. Both their departure and their arrival take place in the night. In some of the vast plains of Asia, they assemble together, keep up a gabbling noise, and tear to pieces the one that happens to arrive the last; after which they take their departure. After the middle of August, they are never by any accident to be seen there. Some writers assure us that the stork has no tongue. So highly are they esteemed for their utility in destroying serpents, that in Thessaly, it was a capital crime for any one to kill a stork, and by the laws the same penalty was inflicted for it as for homicide. Geese and swans travel in a similar manner, but are seen to take their flight. The flocks, forming a point like a harrow, much after the manner of our Liburnian beaked galleys, move along with great impetus, being thus able to cleave the air more easily than if they presented to it a broad front. The flight gradually enlarges in the rear, in the form of a wedge, presenting a vast surface to the breeze, as it impels them onward; those that follow place their necks on those that go before, while the leading birds, as they become weary, fall to the rear. Storks return to their former nests, and the young, in their turn, support their parents when old. It is stated that at the moment of the swan’s death, it gives utterance to a mournful song; |