on the Breeding in Captivity of Turnix tanki. 323


plumage, with the rufous collar almost, though perhaps not

quite, as distinct as that of the old female.


The weather of the first half of June was so extraordinarily

wet and cold that I thought it advisable to put these birds back

into the warm aviary, especially as they never seemed to care

much for the grass. The change appeared to please them, and

they soon began to visit their old nesting-place. O11 June 20th

I noticed that a nest had been made. This, however, was

abandoned for another site near by, where, on the 22nd, I

discovered a more perfect nest composed entirely of hay, which

they must have carried some distance. On the 24th it contained

an egg, a second being laid on the 25th, and a third on the 26th.

On the 27th, the day on which I am writing, the male has

commenced to sit. I may mention that the eggs are creamy

white, spotted with innumerable buff and grey spots.


From my observation of my specimens of Turnix tanki,

as well, as a pair of T. dussumieri , I am led to the conclusion

that these birds do not care much for long grass. The difference

between these and the little Painted Quails {Excalfactoria) is very

marked in this respect ; the latter makes tunnels through the

long grass in all directions, and darts through these like

lightning when alarmed ; but the Hemipodes do not seem to be

at home in long grass, they apparently prefer the open sandy

ground, with patches of short rough grass and such like growing

here and there. They are extremely fond of dusting themselves

in the sand.


The second hen of T. tanki has been out in a large aviary

with the male T. taigoor since May, but the grass and under¬

growth is so thick that I rarely see either of them.


The call-note uttered by the Hemipodes seems to be much

the same with all,—a soft booming sound which is more or less

ventriloquial. The female utters this note far more frequently

than the male, and I am not perfectly sure that he calls at all,

but I believe he does occasionally. This note may almost be

called a “coo ” ; I have frequently mistaken it for the coo of the

Bronzed-winged Pigeon in the distance. Some writers have

likened it to the distant bellowing of a bull, and the Mediterranean



