252 Birch of Grnnhia. 



seven miles from the river, one never sees them, nor have T ever 

 come across a single individual in the Upper River, where there 

 are no Mangroves (and therefore probably no attractions for the 

 Bambaras) nor in the districts near liathurst and the sea, where 

 allhdUgh there are plenty of Mangroves, these are bushes rather 

 than trees. In fact one may say that they confine themselves to 

 tliat part of tlie country where the water is neither too salt 

 nor too fresh, but sulfieiently brackisii to encourage a luxuriant 

 gi'owth of Mangroves. In the breeding season they are even more 

 Ideal and are tlvcii hardly ever to l)e seen outside the Mangi'ove belt. 

 During the winter months they go about in pai'ties of six 

 to twelve, visiting the farms and clearings to feed on the ground- 

 nuts, which are dug up about November, and left in heaps in the 

 opfMi to dry, liut every evening they are to be; seen, flying off 

 in the direction of the river, to roost in the trees which border it. 

 They make iheir presence known far and wide as thej^ fly over 

 by their hoarse grating cries, and hjok when on the wing as if 

 llii-y wi'ic. wcigiied down in front by their huge beaks and heads, 

 though in spite of this apparent topheaviness their flight, accorap- 

 lished with very rapid wing-beats, is fast and powerful. Their 

 breeding season commences about March or April, and they make 

 tlieir nests in holes in the larger trees of the Mangrove belt, which 

 is half forest, half swamp, an almost impenetrable growth, except 

 by means of the small creeks which in places pierce it, and to 

 which they kec]) themselves almost entirely during the hot months 

 of the year. Occasionally an odd one or two may be met with in 

 the open at this season, but never more, and these would only be 

 a pair or so flying ovei- from one Mangrove-bordered creek to 

 anotli !r oi perhaps merely taking a short flight to break the 

 monotony of their household cares. One May I had to spend the 

 night in a ct.noe in onc! oi the creeks of the South Bank, owing 

 to the stupidity of my boatmen, who kept taking the wrong turnings 

 and eventually landed us, with a rapddly falling tide in a cul-de- 

 sac, thus converting what might have been an hour's journey 

 into one of rather more than twelve hours; that morning I shall 

 always remember how I was awakened Try tiie really deafening 

 clanicur wilti which a party of these Bambai-as waking up in the 

 tree -tops greeted the first rays of the rising sun, and the. zest with 

 which a few moments later they came down to a shallow^ place and 

 took tneii- n'ori-.ir^- drink.' and baths. The sight of these Parrots, 

 whichj from what I had seen of them in the dry) Sieason or in 

 captivity, I had always regarded as morose and rather slug-'gish 

 birds, playing in and round the water and darting about most act- 

 ively among the branches or helping one another to preen and 

 dry their plumage, was almost sullicient to make up; for one of 

 the most unpleasant nights t have ever spent,— aground in a leak- 

 ing canoe, rocking on a sunken log, surrounded on all sides by 

 Itlack mufl, blacker water, and slippery Mangrove roots, witli millions 



