THE SUNBTRDS. 115 



cobwebs, and thickly stuck over with dead leaves,' scraps 

 of bark, and other rubbish, including even bits of old 

 letters. The whole affair hardly looks like a nest, and, 

 though it is placed low down, no doubt often escapes 

 observation thereby. Only two or three eggs are laid, 

 white speckled with brown. 



This is to my mind one of the most charmmg of all 

 Indian birds. The male, in addition to his beauty, 

 possesses a very pretty song somewhat like that of a Canary, 

 and he is a very free songster, warbling almost continually, 

 even when out of breeding plumage. He is not a sociable 

 bird, and two are seldom seen together. In the breeding 

 season the flame-coloured tufts which spring from the 

 arm-pits are freely displayed, but ordinarily they are not 

 noticeable, though I have noticed that in captive birds 

 they show up when the owner settles down to roost. The 

 male at all events has a strong attachment to localities ; 

 I remember one which continually haunted the same two 

 or three trees, and habitually sang from one particular 

 twig. I noticed a similar attachment to one perch in a 

 bird I had caged, which I took home with me in 1900 

 to the London Zoological Gardens, this being the first 

 sunbird to reach England alive. But as he was in moult 

 when I got him, and the completion of the process was 

 stopped by the journey, he unfortunately did not live 

 long after arrival. 



The year before I left India, I remember being delighted 

 by an instance of the tameness of these little birds. I 

 saw one on a tree close to my verandah, and wishing to 

 get a better look at him, approached the edge when to 



