The Swallows resorted to the lee of the Cypress Swamp in the rear of the city. Thousands were flying in different flocks. Fourteen were killed at a single shot, all in perfect plumage, and very fat. The markets were abundantly supplied with these tender, juicy, and delicious birds. Saw Swallows every day, but remarked them more plentiful the stronger the breeze blew from the sea.
Weather continues drizzly.
My little favourites constantly in view. Having seen the Hirundo viridis continually, and the H. purpurea or Purple Martin beginning to appear, I discontinued my observations. During the whole winter many of them retired to the holes about the houses, but the greater number resorted to the lakes, and spent the night among the branches of Myrica cerifera, the Cirier, as it is termed by the French settlers. About sunset they began to flock together, calling to each other for that purpose, and in a short time presented the appearance of clouds moving towards the lakes, or the mouth of the Mississippi, as the weather and wind suited. Their aerial evolutions before they alight, are truly beautiful.