THE BIRD IN BLUE ii 



upon which they can lay their eggs. These are visible 

 neither from above nor from below, and they are as 

 inaccessible as invisible, for the chimney is so narrow as 

 to baffle all attempts at ascent or descent on the part 

 of human beings. 



The blue jays make good to my ear what they deny 

 my eye. The young hopefuls utter unceasingly a loud 

 cry resembling that of some creature in distress. This 

 is what I have to listen to all the time I am in the 

 bungalow. Outside, the parent birds make the welkin 

 ring with their raucous voices. Never were father and 

 mother prouder of their offspring or fonder of pro- 

 claiming the fact. When not cumbered about much 

 serving they squat either on the roof or on a blue gum 

 tree hard by, and, at regular intervals, utter a short, 

 sharp, harsh " Tshow." This is emphasised by a jerk of 

 the tail ; the blue jay does nothing without first consult- 

 ing its caudal appendage. 



On the occasions when I made vain attempts to 

 obtain a look at the young birds the parents took to 

 their wings, and, as they sped through the air, uttered 

 cries so harsh and dry-sounding as to make me feel 

 quite thirsty ! 



The blue jay is so familiar to us Anglo-Indians as to 

 need no description. We have all admired the bird as 

 it lazily sailed through the air on outstretched pinions 

 of pale blue and rich ultramarine. We have, each of us 

 watched it perched on a railing looking out for its insect 

 quarry. It is then comparatively inconspicuous, its 

 neck and wing coverts being the hue of a faded port- 

 wine stain. We have seen it pounce upon some object 



