"I reached the monastery just in time, as the Lamas were getting ready to stand on the edge of their chapel in order to pour benediction upon the world during sunset. Mr. and Mrs. Swift were flying near the nest where their three youngsters were put to bed. Of course they were glad to receive me. After their vesper services, the monks fed me, and the sweet old Lama said something about a blessing that some one called Infinite Compassion had put upon me. Then I flew from his hand feeling absolutely fearless. In that state of mind and body I entered my nest next to the swifts under the eaves of the Lamasery. "The nights in October are cold. In the morning while the priests rang their bells, the little swifts flew about for exercise while their parents and I had to fly to shake off the chill of the morning. That day I spent there in order to help them make preparations for their journey south. I was surprised to learn that they intended to build a nest in Ceylon or Africa whither they were going. I explained to them that a swift's nest is not at all an easy thing to construct. Then in order to assuage my thirst for knowledge they told me how they erect their homes." CHAPTER VIII GAY-NECK'S ODYSSEY (_Continued_) In order to make clear to you the swift's skill at architecture, let me first of all draw attention to the swift's handicaps. He has a small beak fit for catching flying insects. His mouth is very wide to enable him to catch his prey while he is on the wing. Very few insects can escape his wide open mouth as he comes down on them. As he is very small, Mr. Swift cannot lift much weight. No wonder his house is built out of slender materials such as straw and twigs of trees no thicker than a middle-sized needle. "The first time I saw a swift he looked paralysed and deformed. All swifts know that they have wretched legs. The bird has hardly any legs to balance upon. His small feet, made for sticking on to places like fish-hooks, emerge right out of his body; his little hooklike claws seem inflexible. He has not enough leg between his body and his feet, and this deprives him of the springiness which longer legs supply to other birds. No wonder he cannot hop nor jump. But that defect is squared by his one advantage--he can cling to stone palisades, marble eaves, and alabaster friezes of houses as no other bird can. I have seen my friend Swift hang on to polished walls as if they were corrugated surfaces.