130 The Marquess of Tavistock — On Individuality


unrequited affection. I once knew a female Common Crane who

attached herself to a breeding pair of Sarus ; she did not want to

oust the hen Sarus from the affections of her mate ; she just wanted

to live with the two. The Sarus were bored by her company and

frequently told her so, but she was impervious to hints, even delivered

at the point of the beak ! When the Sarus made a nest she proceeded

to lay an egg in it, which she incubated whenever the Sarus would

let her, for, with the strange lunacy of birds in such matters, they

adopted the egg and laid none of their own. Finally we removed the

Common Crane and her egg, and the Sarus made another nest, laid,

and brought up a family.


Then, too, I once owned a Yellow-bellied Parrakeet, whose domestic

life and morals were for the whole of one summer a public scandal.

One of the leading characteristics of the entire broad -tail family is

the strict and lasting fidelity of the male bird to his mate, a fidelity

which is at once an example and reproach to the nudes of certain other

bipeds — notably humans and ducks. But this particular yellow-belly

was a most notorious exception to the general rule. He lived at liberty

and being without a mate of his own kind he paired with a female

Port Adelaide — a closely related species. When spring came round

the Adelaide nested in a hollow tree, and according to the usual custom

of her family disappeared from view. A few days later, to my surprise

and disappointment, I saw the yellow-belly courting a hen Blue-bonnet

that I had just turned out in an enclosure with a cut wing. This

appeared to point to but one conclusion — the Adelaide was dead and

the yellow-belly a widower. Not long afterwards, however, we saw

the Adelaide and we realized that we were dealing with a confirmed

rake. The yellow-belly never fed his sitting wife but spent all his

time with the Blue-bonnet, in spite of the fact that she gave him no

encouragement. The poor Adelaide carried on fairly well until the

young hatched, when the unnatural strain proved too much for

her, and like the heroine of an early Victorian novel, she fell into decline

and died and her unhappy family perished with her. The tragedy

caused the yellow-belly no concern ; he had already persuaded a hen

Rosella to marry him, but when she went to nest he deserted her for

a newly imported Brown's, and ended the season by marrying a young



