46 Rev. Robert Codfrey 



claim a share of our grapes and our figs. But, on account of 

 their beauty and their general usefulness, we do not grudge them 

 a small share of our orchard-produce. Even where they are 

 never interfered with, these birds display an unconquerable shy- 

 ness. They come to the house night by night, yet are always 

 ready to decamp from imaginary dangers, being in this respect 

 the very antithesis of the Red-winged Starling. The late Mrs. 

 Young, of Main Mission, Tembuland, reared three of these 

 starlings and released them. By systematically laying down food 

 for them she induced them to remain about the house. They 

 brought other six of their kind to share in the hospitality so 

 generously given; and, at the time of my visit to Main, five 

 birds were frequenting the bread-table,— a barrel placed imder- 

 neath a tree. Beautiful birds they were, with their metallic 

 green gloss and their orange eye. The Red-winged Starlmg had 

 discovered the table too, and at dav^ would come fearlessly to 

 eat his fill. He knew well enough that he was not wanted, and 

 later m the day he was more circumspect, but he was still bold 

 enough to enter the dangerous region. After putting down fresh 

 food, Mrs. Young would stand near the table to inspire dread 

 into the Red-wings; and these latter birds, fully understanding 

 her purpose and being unable for the time being to share in 

 the food, did their best to prevent the Glossy Starlings from eat- 

 ing. Yet there were five of the latter and only two of the Red- 

 wings. A Glossy Starling would descend to the table and begin 

 eating, and a second by short flights would also eventually reach 

 the table. When the two were settled, down would swoop a Red- 

 wing and scatter the favoured birds amid shrieking. This little 

 comedy was enacted over and over again. 



These starlings sing all the year round, and are specially 

 musical at early morn and after sunset. For the greater part of 

 the year, the male pours forth his notes from a certain favoured 

 spot. When there is as yet a mere glimmer of light in the sky. 

 he begins his matins, and for twenty minutes or so maintains 

 his loud notes; then with heavy swishing of his wings he sets 

 out for business. Usually, we hear no more of him till night; 

 but, just before the darkness descends, he strikes up his vespers 



