Bird Notes and News 



115 



AN EGYPTIAN "SANCTUARY" 



If anyone were asked which group 

 of migrants were the most difficult of 

 approach, and had at the same time the 

 best reason for their shyness, he would 

 probably reply the Wild Ducks, And 

 that these birds should choose to spend 

 the hours of daylight on narrow waters 

 comparable in width to a large room and 

 constantly under human eyes, must be 

 seen to be believed. 



Yet that is what happens winter after 

 winter in the Giza Zoological Gardens 

 just outside Cairo. Except the predatory 

 crows, no birds are ever molested there, 

 and the presence of large trees, so rare 

 in Egypt, attracts numbers of birds to 

 breed, including some not commonly 

 resident in the country. For instance, 

 the Grey Heron, the Night Heron, the 

 BufE-backed Heron, and the Little Egret 

 have bred there successfully year after 

 year, and taking small birds as well as 

 big, a list can be made of twenty species 

 which have nested in the Gardens. 



Even exclusively water-birds are not 

 unrepresented, for some of the narrow 

 canals contain enough cover to encourage 

 Moorhens to breed. The biggest piece 

 of water is a pond about an acre and a 

 half in extent and roughly circular 

 where a few swans and pinioned ducks 

 live. Even this area is encroached upon 

 by an island, a spot more frequented by 

 human beings than any other, since tea 

 is dispensed there. 



In October the wdld duck begin to 

 arrive and settle on the pond. Up to 

 Christmas their numbers continue to 

 thicken. By the end of January they 

 begin their departure ; and usually the 

 last stragglers are gone by the end of 

 May. At the height of the press the 

 scene is a marvellous one. Even the 

 narrowest canals are full of Teal, while 

 the central pond is alive with Teal and 

 Shoveler. On occasion there is a bird 

 to every two square yards of water. 

 Others are standing shoulder to shoulder 

 along the stone coping, separated in 

 places by nothing but an open wire 

 fence and a strip of grass not three feet 



wide, from busy paths. At such times 

 it is a regular amusement of the pinioned 

 Ruddy Sheldrakes, who are almost the 

 heaviest birds on the pond, to walk 

 along against the fence and shove their 

 lighter companions into the water. 



Although the bulk of the wintering 

 birds are of two kinds only. Mallard, 

 Gadwall, Garganey, Tuft, Wigeon, and 

 Pochard may all be seen on occasion. 

 So sure of themselves do all the ducks 

 become that they pay no particular 

 attention to the report of a gun near by. 

 Then the changes of the birds as they 

 emerge from eclipse to full breeding 

 plumage can be watched at close range, 

 and as the spring draws near, the courting 

 display of the Teal. These smallest, 

 neatest ducks of all seem indeed to 

 forget wholly their fear of man. It is 

 possible to throw a scrap of bread a 

 foot or two into the water from the tea 

 island and have two wild Teal race a 

 swan for it. 



Strangers seeing the composure and 

 confidence of the ducks by daylight 

 would never believe that they were 

 wild. Many never give them a thought, 

 taking them for granted as part of the 

 stock of the gardens. But with twilight 

 comes a change. As the Night-herons 

 begin to fly off to the river, the ducks 

 which were standing on the coping take 

 to the water. All the birds begin to 

 move about the surface and a murmur 

 rises as of talk between themselves, 

 gentle whistles from the Teal, conversa- 

 tional grunts from the Shoveler. Move- 

 ment and sound become gradually more 

 animated until every bird is swimming 

 about vigorously on the crowded water 

 and quite clearly labouring under some 

 excitement. Suddenly some unseen 

 cUmax is reached. The pent-up feelings 

 of perhaps a score of birds overcome them. 

 At one impulse they rise with what, at 

 that close range, is a heart-stopping roar 

 of wings, and hurtle overhead. Group 

 after group follows suit with the unity 

 of single birds, and in the gloom it is 

 impossible to tell how each band makes 

 ready for such concerted action. One 

 would say that each had its acknowledged 



