and without any warning, give up their chicks-not feeble, but full-fledged and strong, so that at night they scrape holes for themselves, and lying down therein are covered over by the old birds and thus remain until morning. The extraordinary strength of the newly-hatched birds is accounted for by the size of the shell. since in so large a space it is reasonable to suppose that the young ones would be much more developed than is usually found in eggs of smaller dimensions. It is not to be wondered at that in the tropical world, where lizards, snakes, and frogs attain such extraordinary dimensions, the cranes or stork tribes, which chiefly live upon these reptiles, should also grow to a more colossal size than their European representatives. Thus, while torrid America boasts of the Jabiru, Africa and India possess the still larger Argala, or Adjutant, whose feeding exploits and ugliness have already been mentioned in the chapter on snakes. His beak, measuring sixteen inches in circumference at the base, corresponds with his appetite. He is soon rendered familiar with man, and when fish or other food is thrown to him, he catches it very nimbly and immediately swallows it entire. A young bird of this kind, about five feet in hight, was brought up tame and presented to a chief on the coast of Guinea, where Mr. Smeathman lived. It regularly attended the hall at dinner time, placing itself behind its master's chair, frequently before any of the guests entered. The servants were obliged to watch it carefully, and to defend the provisions by beating it off with sticks; still it would frequently snatch off something from the table, and one day purloined a whole boiled fowl, which it swallowed in an instant. It used to fly about the island, and roost very high among the silk-cotton trees; from this station, at the dis tance of two or three miles, it could see when the dinner was carried across the court, when, darting down, it would arrive early enough to enter with some of those who carried in the dishes. Sometimes it would stand in the room for half an hour after dinner, turning its head alternately as if taking a deep interest in the conversation. These birds are found in companies, and when seen at a distance near the mouths of rivers, advancing towards an observer, it is said that they may be easily mistaken for canoes on the surface of a smooth sea; and when on the sand-banks, for men and women picking up shell fish on the beach. The tropical forests of the eastern hemisphere resound with bird-cries no less appalling, wild, or strange than those of the western world. In the close jungles of Ceylon one occasionally hears the call of the Copper-smith (Megalasara Indica,) whose din resembles the blows of a smith hammering a caldron, or the strokes of the great orange-colored Woodpecker (Brachypterus aurantius.) as it beats the decaying trees in search of insects; but of all the yells that fancy can imagine there is none to equal that of the Singhalese Devil-bird, or Gualama. "Its ordinary cry," says Mr. Mitford, is a magnificent clear shout like that of a human being, and which can be heard at a great distance, and has a fine effect in the silence of the closing night. It has another cry like that of a hen just caught; but the sounds which have earned for it its bad name, and which I have heard but once to perfection, are indescribable; the most appalling that can be imagined, and scarcely to be heard without shuddering. I can only compare it to a boy in torture, whose screams are being stopped by being strangled. On hearing this dreadful note the terrified Singhalese hurries from the spot, for should he chance to see the bird of ill omen he is sure that his death is nigh. A servant of Mr. Baker's, who had the misfortune of seeing the dreaded gualama, from that moment took no food, and thus fell a victim to his superstitious despair. This horror of the natives explains the circumstance that it is not yet perfectly ascertained whether the devil bird is an owl (Syrnium) or a night-hawk. The wonderful pendulous nests of the American Cassiques are equalled, if not surpassed, by those of the Indian Baya. These birds are found in most parts of Hindostan; in shape they resemble the sparrow, as also in the brown feathers of the back and wings; the head and breast are of a bright yellow, and in the rays of a tropical sun have a splendid appearance when flying by thousands in the same grove. They make a chirping noise, but have no song; they associate in large communities, and cover clumps of palmyras, acacias, and date trees with their nests. These are formed in a very ingenious manner by long grass woven together in the shape of a bottle, and suspended by so slender a thread to the end of a flexible branch that even the squirrel dare not venture his body on so fragile a support, however his mouth may water at the eggs and prey within. These nests contain several apartments, appropriated to different purposes: in one the hen performs the office of incubation; another, consisting of a little thatched roof, and covering a perch without a bottom, is occupied by the male, who cheers the female with his chirping note. The Tailor bird of Hindostan (Sylvia sutoria) is equally curious in the structure of its nest, and far superior in the elegance and variety of its plumage, which in the male glows with the varied tints of the colibri. The little artist first selects a plant with large leaves, and then gathers cotton from the shrub, spins it to a thread by means of its long bill and slender feet, and then, as with a needle, sews the leaves neatly together to conceal its nest. 66 66 On turning to the wilds of Africa, the Grosbeak affords us a no less wonderful example of nest-building; for here we find, not one single pair, but hundreds living under the same roof, perfectly resembling that of a thatched house, and with a projecting ridge, so that it is impossible for any reptile to approach the entrances concealed below. Their industry," says Paterson, seems almost equal to that of the bee. Throughout the day they appear to be busily employed in carrying a fine species of grass, which is the principal material they employ for the purpose of erecting this extraordinary work, as well as for additions and repairs. Though my short stay in the country was not sufficient to satisfy me, by ocular proof, that they added to their nest as they annually increased in numbers, still from the many trees which I have seen borne down by the weight, and others which I have observed with their boughs completely covered over, it would appear that this really was the case. When the tree which is the support of this aerial city is obliged to give way to the increase of weight, it is obvious they are no longer protected, and are under the necessity of rebuilding in other trees. One of these deserted nests I had the curiosity to break down, so as to inform myself of its internal structure, and I found it equally ingenious with that of the external. There are many entrances, each of which forms a separate street with nests on both sides, at about two inches distant from each other." Though far less ingenious, yet the nest of the Korwé (Tockus erythrorynchus) is too curious to be passed over in silence. The female having entered her breedingplace, in one of the natural cavities of the mopane tree, a species of bauhinia, the male plasters up the entrance, leaving only a narrow slit by which to feed his mate, and which exactly suits the form of his beak. The female makes a nest of her own feathers, lays her eggs, hatches them, and remains with the young till they are fully fledged. During all this time, which is stated to be two or three months, the male continues to feed her and the young family. The prisoner generally becomes quite fat, and is esteemed a very dainty morsel by the natives, while the poor slave of a husband gets so lean and weak, that on the sudden lowering of the temperature, which sometimes happens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies. All pensile birds are remarkable for the eccentricity of shape and design which marks their nests; though they agree in one point, that they dangle at the end of twigs, and dance about merrily at every breeze. Some are long, others short; some have the entrance at the side, others at the bottom, others near the top. Some are hung like hammocks from one twig to another; others are suspended to the extremity of the twig itself; while others built in palms, which have no true branches, and no twigs at all, are fastened to the extremities of the leaves. Some are made of fine fibres, and others of the coarsest straws. Some are so loose in their texture that the eggs can be plainly seen through them; while others are so strong and thick, that one might suppose them to be constructed by a professional thatcher. The illustration on the following page presents a group of nests of several species of the African Weavers. In the right-hand upper corner are the curious nests of the Mahali Weaver (Pliopasser mahali) accompanied by the birds themselves. Although the bird measures only six inches in length its nest is of considerable size, and is formed of quite stout substances. In shape it is not unlike an ordinary Florence flask, only three times the size, with the neck shortened and widened. Its surface, however, is rough, the large straws of which it is composed pointing downwards to the entrance of the nest, which is at the bottom. Next below are three rows of the nests of the Spotted-back Weavers (Ploceus spilonatus), which are represented as attacked by monkeys, some of whom, assailed by the birds, are getting well-ducked for their pains. Still below, rather in the background, are two nests of the Ploceus Capensis, woven into palm-leaves. Below this, in the left corner, is a nest of the YellowWeaver (Ploceus ocularius), shaped somewhat like a chemist's retort, with the bulb uppermost, or more nearly like a huge old fashioned pistol, hanging butt upward. The nest is made of grass about as large as a small twine, interwoven with great skill. This is only partly shown. At the right corner is a nest of the Taha Weaver (Euplectes taha), a pretty little bird, which is no great favorite with the African farmers, for it is very numerous, especially in cultivated regions, and has no scruples about helping itself to the produce of the gardens, whose owners are obliged to keep up a keen watch if they expect to secure a fair share of the crops. Lastly, in the bottom centre, is the nest of the Yellow capped Weaver (Ploceus icterocephalus). markable for the extreme neatness and compactness of its structure. nest is of seed-stems so closely interwoven that it can be handled, or even kicked like a foot-ball, without being destroyed. The interior is lined with layers of flat leaves, kept in place by their own elasticity, which afford a smooth, soft resting-place for the eggs and young birds. This nest is re- Parrots have so many points of resemblance to monkeys in their tastes and habits, that notwithstanding their different appearance, one might almost be tempted to call them near relations. As the monkey never sets foot on the ground if he can help it, but springs from branch to branch of trees, so the parrot is rarely seen walking. His flight is rapid, but of short duration; so that evidently neither the groun nor the air was destined for his habitual abode. In climbing, however, he shows an uncommon expertness and agility, unlike that of any other quadruped or bird, as the organ he chiefly uses for the purpose is his beak. He first seizes with his powerful mandibles the branch he intends to ascend, and then raises his body one foot after the other; or, if he happens to have a sweet nut in his bill which he is anxious to preserve, he presses his lower mandible firmly upon the branch, and raises himself by the contraction of the muscles of his neck. On descending, he first bends his head, lays the back of his beak upon the branch, and while the extended neck supports the weight of the body, brings down one foot after the other. While accidentally walking on even ground, he also frequently uses his upper mandible as a kind of crutch, by fixing its point or its back upon the ground; for the formation of his toes is such, that he can walk but very slowly, and consequently requires the aid of that singular support. But if the toes of the parrot are but ill adapted for walking, they render him valuable services in seizing or grasping his food. They even form a kind of hand, with which, like the monkey, be conveys the morsel to his beak. This easily cracks the hardest nutshells, after which the broad and fleshy tongue adroitly extracts the kernel. In his free state the parrot lives only upon nuts and seeds; when captive, however, be becomes omnivorous, like man his master, eats bread and meat, sugar and pastry, and is very fond of wine, which has a most exhilarating effect on his spirits. Like most monkeys, the parrots are extremely social. At break of day they generally rise in large bands, and with loud screams fly away to seek their breakfast. After having feasted together, they retire to the shady parts of the forest as soon as the heat begins to be oppressive, and a few hours before the setting of the sun reappear in large troops. If the monkeys are distinguished by a strong affection for their young, the parrots may well be cited as models of connubial love, for when once a pair has been united, its attachment remains unaltered unto death. Far more than the turtle-dove, the little passerine parrot (Psittacus passerinus) of Brazil, or the Psittacus pullarius, or loveparrot of Guinea, deserves to be celebrated by poets as the emblem of conjugal affection. Never seen but in each other's company, each delights to imitate the actions of the other, feeding, sleeping, bathing together; and when one dies, the other soon follows its partner. A gentleman who had lost one of a pair of these inseparables, attempted to preserve the other by hanging up a looking-glass in its cage. At first the joy of the poor bird was boundless, as he fancied his mate restored to his caresses; but soon perceiving the deception, he pined away and died. Another point of resemblance between the parrots and monkeys is their talent for mimicry; but while the latter, favored by the similarity of their organization to that of man, strive to copy his gestures and actions, the former endeavor to imitate his voice and to repeat his words, an attempt facilitated by the extreme mobility of their tongue and upper mandible, no less than by the peculiar construction of their larynx or windpipe. The talent of speech has not been given to all the parrots alike. The beautiful American Aras, for instance, are in this respect remarkably stupid, while the purple Lory of the East Indies, and the gray African parrot (Psittacus erithacus,) are remarkable for their linguistic attainments. They are often able to retain whole songs and sentences, and to repeat them with astonishing exactness. Thus Le Vaillant mentions a gray parrot he saw at the Cape, who was able to repeat the whole of the |