Miscellaneous Notes.



119



“ Kestrel ? ” for I hadn’t in the rather dim light been able to

discern the species when she came so boldly to the apple tree.

Sure enough, kestrel it was, of the female sex. I shook her corpse.

“ So this is what comes of sparing such as you.” Hateful bird !

and the whole place alive with field voles. She must have devoured

at least a dozen of my poor palm doves, hut I counted twenty-seven

feeding together, after her demise, which was more than I had hoped

for.


* *



I spend many hours in digging and forking. There is still a

good bit of ground where docks of vast size and clumps of nettles,

with matted roots which spread like peacock’s tails, are to he found.

The roots of the docks seem as if they might go through to the

antipodes. And in working thus, I accomplish at least three things.

I keep in health, I clear the ground of vile growths, and I collect

worms and large white grubs with brown heads for the birds : the

sun-bittern, the motmot, and such-like ; and so often, as I laboriously

heave up the clods, tied down by these docks and nettles for many a

day, I hear close to me a loud “ mee-ow ” followed by a very small

voice as if but a far-off echo of the other.


They always find me out, my pair of Australian wood duck

(maned geese as we less euphoniously call them). They don't seem

to want any food, but really take pleasure in one’s company, which

is refreshing to one, and gratifying, for how many a bird just

approaches to hob-gobble its dinner, and looks upon one as a mere

caterer. Not so these little maned geese, so determined to let me

know they’re there; I, digging and digging, and then just behind me,

within three feet—“ Me-ow ” from the lady and from him.


Sometimes it sounds as if he was correcting her—“ My dear, not so

loud, but more like this ”—and so there comes that tiny and gentle

echo of her loud cat-call. It’s very entertaining !



