Newton says (38) that bird migration is "most strangely and unaccountably confounded by many writers with the subject of Distribution," but the very act of the bird which extends its range, the first step in distribution, is migration. The histories of present-day distribution and migration are irrevocably interwoven; as Mr P.A. Taverner remarks (51), "migration is a dispersal, and conversely, this dispersal, as it manifests itself, is migration," whilst distribution is the outcome of dispersal. Broadly speaking, all birds migrate, though the length of the journey varies in different species, and in some cases in individuals of the same or closely allied species, from the merest change of elevation to a voyage almost as wide as the world itself. The sedentary red grouse nests on the moors, often less than 1000 feet above the sea, but "when snow-bright the moor expands" it feeds and resides in the cultivated valley, and as shown by the committee appointed to study grouse disease, not infrequently migrates from range to range across wide valleys. Many tropical birds, usually considered non-migratory, are subject to short movements, the origin and purpose of which is search for food and safe nesting places. The knot breeds in countless numbers in Arctic Greenland and America, so far north that only a handful of ornithologists have traced its home; it travels south in summer so far as Damara Land. The Arctic tern has a northern breeding range extending perhaps as far north as that of any bird, and it has been taken far to the south of South America in the Antarctic regions; if the thesis that the further north the bird goes in summer the further south it travels in winter is correct, as it can be proved to be with some species, some of these terns must annually travel about 22,000 miles (21). Between these extremes are an endless variety of distances travelled and methods of migration, with striking differences in the performances of individuals of the same species. Take one instance, a song thrush reared in a nest in our own garden. We may see and recognise this bird up to the middle of July, but what trained ornithologist can, yet, say with certainty where that bird will be by the end of the month or in three to four months time? We know that all through the winter there are some song thrushes near the house, and that they are the birds which not only begin to sing early but actually nest with us; we know too that before there is any marked immigration of northern thrushes there is a recorded emigration from our southern coasts, presumably of thrushes which have nested with us, beginning towards the end of July; further we know that there is an autumn immigration of Scandinavian or other northern song thrushes, sub-specifically distinct to the expert eye, and some, small and dark, whose origin is by no means proved, as well as later emigrations of birds to the Continent or Ireland, both regular and occasioned by exceptional weather.