In the main I think Mr Barrington's explanation is correct, but even if the birds were gathered farther west than usual, which I doubt, it was the north-east wind which had drifted them, and the word "decided" is a bold one to use when dealing with the behaviour of birds. Easterly winds would drift them westward, and the striking Ireland was accidental; it was the safety of the many, as well as the deathblow to the comparative few. On the night of the 31st I received news of this visitation, and later found that similar movements, without disaster, were noticed on the north coast of Wales and in Cheshire. On the nights of the 30th and 31st birds in large numbers passed over Bangor and the Menai Straits; amongst them were golden plover, and the next day these birds with fieldfares and redwings were more abundant than before in the mid-Cheshire fields. On the night of April 2nd, from dusk to midnight, a large passage occurred over Mere in Cheshire, where curlew, golden plover, oyster-catcher and wild duck were recognised by their calls, and at the same time a passage was observed at Old Colwyn on the Welsh coast. I do not even suggest that these were the same birds which passed over south-eastern Ireland, but their presence within so short a time, indicates the volume of the movement. Welsh papers recorded an "Extraordinary feathered catastrophe" at Pwllheli in Cardigan Bay which occurred on the night of March 17th, 1904, in which "thousands" of birds fell dead and dying upon the town and shore. The journalistic description was lurid, but I am able to give the explanation sent to me by a friend who was an eye-witness. The night had been dark and foggy, and in the morning he found "scores of dead starlings, redwings, thrushes and blackbirds lying on the beach at high-water mark." During the night a steamer had been loading setts at the quarry at the Gimlet Rock, a large outcrop outside the harbour, and the artificial light used had been one of the powerful oil flares. The fog-bewildered birds were led astray and had struck masts, rigging, and rock in their confusion. During a big fire in Philadelphia on March 27th, 1906, Mr W. Stone saw large numbers of birds passing in its illumination, and many passed too near and fell into the blaze; he picked up a few half-burnt song sparrows and juncos. Blizzards on continents, and to a less extent snow-storms in our islands, account for the death of thousands of travellers. And even in most favourable weather birds fall exhausted. During a stay on the Yorkshire coast in autumn, when migration was even-flowing and unchecked by adverse weather, I found several goldcrests which had reached land only to die, and though most birds came in without showing signs of fatigue, a few larks and starlings were so tired that they made little effort to escape when approached.