On one occasion I was taking a farewell look at the birds

before starting for the West of England, and tossed down a

mealworm in a narrow path for a Cuckoo, a wall being on one

side and thick bushes on the other. A Stork, seeing the meal¬

worms in my hand, charged down the path at me just as the

Cuckoo was making for his mealworm. The sudden appearance

of the Stork flurried the Cuckoo, who lost his head and got

trodden upon, his leg being broken just at the joint. ,1 at once

applied a figure-of-8 bandage, very hurriedly for trains will not

wait even for a broken-legged Cuckoo, and placed the bird in

the same cage which had three times sheltered the old Blue-Pie.

On my return about a month later, I found that, owing to the

bandage having become relaxed or worked a trifle loose, the

limb was slightly crooked, but otherwise quite well, and the

joint not showing much sign of stiffness. The bird too was in

excellent health ; and even the plumage was more presentable

than is too often the case with the Cuckoo in confinement.


In later years a Himalayan Blue-Pie (Urocissa occipitalis ),

on arriving here, when loosed out of his travelling box was

found to have broken the upper part of his leg. This likewise

was set, and the full use of the limb recovered.


With a broken leg, I am of opinion that unquestionably

the limb should be set. To leave it unset, as some have

recommended, is cruel; and, if it be the upper part that is

broken, fatal results may be expected to follow.


It might seem unnecessary to add that, in setting a bird’s

leg, it must be set with the leg bent up, to enable the bird to

stand on the other leg. I was out on the last occasion that our

old Blue-Pie broke her leg ; and when I reached home I found

that a Vet. had been called in, who had fixed the limb perfectly

stiff and straight, and so stretched and pulled down from the

body as to reach fully an inch below the other leg. I remarked

that the bird could not possibly live with the leg in that position,

as it could neither eat, nor drink, nor stand, and would batter

itself to pieces the instant it was loosed,—to which the Vet,

made reply that that was how he always set a horse’s leg. But

a bird is not a horse • and although the poor beast was nearly dead

from exhaustion, for she had been under very rough treatment

for nearly two hours, and although night had come, there was no

help for it but to cut off the bandages as best we might, and

make a fresh start. Now it had so come about that, after the

second break, the leg had been set with the toes pointing out too

much, an unsightliness with which we had patiently borne for



