SEVENTH ANNUAL REPORT 165 
grass, scattering trees, plenty of bushes to lie under when 
the sun shines too fiercely, and water within easy reach, surely 
should constitute conditions conducive to long life and perfect 
contentment. 
An interesting scene was several times witnessed here, when 
one, and sometimes two, of the little birds (Geospiza fuliginosa), 
so common on the islands, would fly up on the back, head, or 
neck of a tortoise to pick off the minute grass seeds that lodged 
in the folds of the skin, in the corners of the mouth, and in 
the nose. We noticed it on several occasions, and the tortoises 
never evinced the least displeasure in the proceedings of their 
small visitors. Once, while watching a bird picking seeds from 
the nose, and even reaching over to pick them from the mouth 
of a large tortoise, the thought occurred to me that the story 
of the little bird that enters the mouth of the crocodile for flies 
is now not nearly so improbable as when first read years ago. 
Once I saw one of the brilliant red fly-catchers ride along on the 
back of a giant tortoise for some distance, flying off now and 
then to catch an insect, but immediately returning to its odd 
perch, apparently enjoying the ride as much as we enjoyed 
watching it. 
The actions of the tortoises living in the hollows and small 
valleys along the mountain top were very similar to those of the 
cattle that occupied the same range. Walking cautiously over a 
rise we would see perhaps three or four at a water-hole, drinking, 
and dispersed in the open valley would be others busily nibbling 
at the short grass. During the heat of the day many would be 
seen lying in the shallow pools of water that the heavy rains had 
formed, or under the bushes near by them. One hot day I saw 
two large tortoises and two young bulls lying side by side under 
a small tree. Nearby were other cattle, and another large tor- 
toise was headed for the tree, having just left a water-hole a 
few rods away. 
After seeing on this mountain dozens of tortoises of good size, 
one wonders where the small ones are; but after spending a 
few days a-foot and seeing the many wild dogs in that region— 
descendants of those left years ago by sailing vessels—we can 
only wonder that so many of the large ones remain. From the 
time that the egg is laid until the tortoise is a foot long, the wild 
dogs are a constant menace, and it is doubtful if more than one 
out of 10,000 escapes. We certainly saw none, and the natives 
told us that the dogs ate them as fast as they were hatched. 
In November, 1897, we found several nests in the lower edge 
