HINTERLAND NOTES 479 



which were used by the Indians as ornaments of clotliing. 

 Upon one occasion, we heard a troupial singing loudly from 

 the top of a tree, on the river bank, near to Kwimata Land- 

 ing. Its nest was discovered, high up in a bush, overhanging 

 the water, upon the opposite bank. It was a grassy struc- 

 ture, elongated, fixed in a fork, with an entrance on the lee- 

 ward side. I suspect that this bird and its mate had escaped 

 from Indians at Kwimata. 



Where river banks are steep, sand-martins may be found 

 making use of the numerous holes. Whether for roosting 

 or nesting, I have not determined. Over the savannahs, 

 common martins, swifts of two sizes, and swallows cannot be 

 overlooked. Scissor-tails, also, are plentiful; and an occa- 

 sional screech owl may be disturbed from amongst the thick 

 foliage of an ancient tree. Pigeons are plentiful. There is 

 a tree in which they delight to place their platforms ; on this 

 account the Indians call it wakokwa-the, or pigeon's-tree. 

 Its leaves are long and narrow, and its trunk is as straight 

 as a mast. The copper-colored pigeon, also, is plentiful; 

 and the ground doves rise in patches, from any open ground. 

 I disturbed a ground dove upon its nest, near a tussock of 

 grass, upon the Tuka Savannah, near the foot of a hill. 

 There was one white egg. A night- jar, mothering a solitary 

 young, was found, upon the hill, on the outskirts of the Mis- 

 sion Village. Upon moonlight nights, night- jars were busy. 

 They settled on the ground, at the side of the roads, wheez- 

 ing and beating their wings, periodically. Then they would 

 rise and gyrate, and sweep along, just over the grass, and 

 beat their wings as they passed. The object of this may be, 

 to cause their prey to betray its presence, by a sudden move- 

 ment. At sunset, during the later months of the year, we 

 used to hear a bird which uttered seven notes, descending 

 the scale in thirds. It was not seen, nor identified. This was 

 at the Mission. From my little shelter in the Bush, near the 

 Mission, I have watched the black-faced wren come forth 

 from hiding and warble its powerful song. The bird's tech- 



