more notes on new humming-birds.



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six inches in diameter, put a good amount of mashed potatoes, boiled

without any seasoning whatever—enough to make a good foundation

—then a couple of bananas or more, rotten to the point of pulpiness,

cut into slices and spread about on top of the potato meal. Pour a

few spoonfuls of claret into the jars, in sufficient quantity to moisten

the mixture and to prevent it from becoming mouldy : then fasten

up the top with a piece of muslin and string, leaving a small hole

in the material which a pinch of cotton wool can fill up. All is

now ready for the introduction of the breeders : tiny flies of the

genus Drosophila, which I hear English members may obtain in

London from the Spiders’ House at the Zoological Gardens. The

bowls once prepared should be left in a very warm room for three

weeks or so, after which the larvae will appear, giving birth in turn

to an innumerable progeny. At this stage all that the flies will

require is feeding afresh, once or twice a week, with more fruit and

just a little wine (red) added to the old stuff. If the above recipe is

strictly adhered to, and if care is taken never to use up any one

jar to the point of exhaustion—which means leaving in each the

minimum of fifteen to twenty insects necessary for reproduction—

the breeding will continue without a break, nor will a sudden shortage

occur. To offer this live food to the humming-birds imagination

will suggest many yays; mine consists in simply removing the

cotton wool stopper, after which I slide the bowl into the cage

through the door, or where the latter is not wide enough, I bring

the cage close to the light, placing the jar on the opposite or darker

side so that it touches the bars: the insects obeying Nature’s prompt¬

ing, which is to seek the light, will fly across the enemy’s domain,

or I should say will endeavour to do so, for not many succeed.

Many a happy hour have I spent marvelling at the humming-birds’

antics, as they caper, dance, hover, twirl, dart, and whiz about

within their little house, in their eff'oits to snap at their prey, which

is almost always caught in mid-air, and but very rarely from the

bars or twigs.


Amongst the newly-landed Colibris we found a few which

even my learned friend Monsieur E. Simon—our greatest authority

on this branch of ornithology—could not identify with any degree



