186



THE HAWK-HEADED PARROT.


By W. T. Greene, M.A., M.D.


There is nothing particularly accipitrine-looking about

Deroptyus accipitrimis except its name, or names, which are more

•or less inappropriate, and if I had the re-naming of it, I should call

it the Ruffed Parrot, for it raises the feathers of the neck and the

back of the head into a kind of ruff or nimbus that imparts a

wonderfully weird and characteristic appearance to it, and

differentiates it at once from every member of its family.


Like all the Caiques (unless its temper is spoiled by

teasing), it is a merry, gentle, and loveable bird, not exceptionally

intelligent, perhaps, but full of tricks, and capable, too, of

repeating a few words, and even short sentences. It certainly

discriminates between different people and never addresses one

person in mistake for another.


For example, one of these birds that I had the happiness

of possessing, “Joe}'',” whom (I cannot say “which” in this

connection) I bought at the door from a pedlar for half a

sovereign and some old clothes, never said, “ Ah, ha, papa! ” to

anyone but myself, whom he evidently considered to be the head

of the house ; nor did he ever begin to cry like an infant except

when my youngest boy came into the room and approached

his cage ; but he would say “ Ta,” (tali) to anybody who

presented him with a grape or a bit of biscuit, and if he liked

the morsel he could keep on repeating his thanks while he

sucked or ate it ; but if it was not to his taste, he would fling

the morsel to the ground with an exclamation that sounded like

an expression of disgust, “ Huah,” and scream, which I regret

to say he could do, and occasionally did : but he was a dear old

fellow for all that—alas ! that I should have to speak of him in

the past tense, but the best of friends must part in this transitory

life of ours.


Joey had a very funny trick of revolving round his

perch with a celerity that made one dizzy to look at him when so

engaged ; what his idea was, it is impossible to guess, but if I

said to him, “Turn round, Joey,” off he would go at the rate of

many revolutions to the minute, although the moment before he

might have been half asleep, and the revolutions did not even

seem to make him giddy ; then when he had revolved as much,

or as often, as he deemed advisable, he would erect his

head and neck feathers, look you full in the face and exclaim,

“ There! ” as much as to say, “ Was not that well done ! ”



