174 The Marquess of Tavistock—-The Rejuvenation of Jaco


that he wanted me to have Jaco, should she survive him, in order that

she might again enjoy her freedom. However, on seeing the old

Parrot some weeks after her arrival in the Isle of Wight, I was dis¬

appointed to find her breathing badly and looking none too well. It

seemed as though she was more likely to join her master in a better

land than live to enjoy her freedom in this one.


When summer came I had Jaco sent over to me and turned her into

a small outdoor aviary. Her breathing was rather better and her

appetite fair, but she was very shaky on her legs and her feet seemed to

be losing their power of grasping. For some days she remained about

the same, then she grew worse and could hardly keep on her perch at

all unless she held on to the wire netting with her beak. The case

seemed hopeless ; a friend of mine once had a Guilding’s Amazon

which completely lost the use of its legs for some time before its death,

and I had no doubt that Jaco was going the same way. I concluded

that it would be kindest to have her painlessly destroyed, and began to

make the necessary arrangements. Next day, however, Jaco seemed

a little better, and from that time on she very slowly improved.

Having ascertained as far as possible that she was not tuberculous—

a most necessary precaution, by the way, as I once learned to my cost

in the case of an old Roseate Cockatoo, who gave the disease to my

Banksians—I decided to give Jaco a chance at liberty. I never for

a moment expected success ; she was too weak to climb and it seemed

highly improbable that she could fly, but it was the only hope and I

opened the top of the aviary. Jaco walked slowly out and surveyed

the trees around her with growing interest. She began to call and get

restless, raised her wings, and finally launched herself into the air.

She got on remarkably well, and her first flight landed her half way up

a tall elm. Subsequent flights took her to the top of the highest trees

in the garden, and there she remained. For three days she flew to

and fro without showing exhaustion from hunger ; then she descended

on to the gardener’s shoulder and was carried to the feeding-tray,

which she afterwards visited of her own accord. Then the rain came,

48 hours of it and very cold. Jaco began to look rather miserable,

and I carried her into an aviary shelter. However, she walked out at

once and flew away. Another 24 hours’ rain followed, and I expected



