little of our Common Wren. The breeding season is in March

when it builds, I believe, a dome-shaped nest, but I have never

actually taken one. When the young first fly it may be met

with in family parties, being especially partial to a certain

flowering tree (sp. ?), where it may almost always be found in

numbers at the end of April and the beginning of May.


Walking through the thick coppet one is often startled by

hearing at one’s ear a clear but short song repeated again and

again with constant frequency. The vocalist will need a long

search to find, as his colour harmonises well with the thick

tangle in which he lives ; his nature is, however, inquisitive,

and instead of retiring, when his domain is invaded, he advances,

keeping, it is true, well out of sight, but nevertheless singing all

the time. If you move to try and get a better view of the

unknown songster, the song will cease only to be repeated a few

seconds later from a more distant bush ; should you, on the

other hand, remain still, a dark green shadow will soon appear

gradually climbing through the thicket by short hops till, as it

emerges from the thickest of the foliage, you recognise the

beautiful little white-eyed Vireo ( V. crassirostris). A little more

patience and you will detect his hen, as curious as her lord, but

lacking his boldness, and peeping out at you shyly from the rank

herbage near the ground. Several species of this genus are

found in the Bahamas ; V. crassirostris appears to be resident,

but in spring and summer the most common and conspicuous

form is V. calidris , the Red-eyed Vireo, a bird by no means as

shy as the previous species, though from its dull colouring very

difficult to distinguish amid the surrounding scenery. Its song,

which is rather monotonous and not unlike that of our common

Chaffinch, is generally" uttered from a moderate elevation in a

thick bush.


When returning home at sunset, twilight being absent in

these latitudes, except at midsummer, it is surprising how,

if one’s eyes be closed, one is carried back to the green

lanes of England. The air, especially at spring time, is full

of the songs of many birds; the confused and hurried notes

of the Bahama Woodstar, as the local Humming Bird is

called, the shrill squeak of the Creeper, the harsh scream of the

Rain Crow, and the cooing of the Doves, all mingle to form a

confused but none the less suitable accompaniment to the

Thrush-like notes which ring forth high above all the rest. The

large majority of these last proceed from the Mocking Bird, but

a very fair proportion emanate from a very beautiful species.



