THE BIRDS OF THE BERMUDAS. 27 
Lieut. Denison that two have been seen as late as June 20th last. 
Can they have remained to breed? These pretty birds are fond of 
associating with the next species, feeding with them on the newly- 
turned fields—conspicuous when the flock is disturbed by their 
larger size and long tails. Their flight is very strong and rapid. 
Chamepelia passerina, Ground Dove.—Resident and abundant. 
It nests twice, laying two white eggs, *85 in. by °64 in., in a small, 
flimsy construction of twigs and cedar bark, generally placed on 
the bushy horizontal bough of a cedar tree, from eight feet to 
twenty feet above the ground. ‘The earliest eggs I saw were on 
April 4th, the latest on June 27th; but there are instances of its 
breeding even in the winter months. When disturbed from its 
nest it falls like a stone to the ground, where it commences to 
flutter about, as if in the agonies of death, to deceive the intruder. 
Should the latter be taken in by the good acting of the poor little 
bird, and attempt to seize her, she shufiles away along the ground 
just out of reach, further and further from her nest, and, when she 
thinks her home is safe, away she dashes into the trees with a 
joyful ‘‘whir-r-r-r’’ of relief. My terrier used to be completely 
**sold’’ in this way, and had many an exciting but fruitless chase 
after the little doves. The ‘‘coloured’’? people have an absurd 
superstition about this bird, and say that when it utters its 
‘*coo-oop’’ (this is an extraordinarily loud and sonorous call for so 
small a bird, and can be heard a long distance), it is scratching up 
the ground for somebody’s grave! The habits and mode of feed- 
ing of the species are too well known to need description. The 
male is larger, and has the sides of the neck and the under parts of 
a much warmer purplish red than the female. 
Ortyx virginianus, Virginian Partridge or Quail.—This bird, known 
to us on this side of the Atlantic as a comparatively recent intro- 
duction, under the name of Virginian ‘‘ Colin,’’ is the game-bird of 
Bermuda; but whether it originally found its way there from the 
American continent without the agency of man is doubtful. It is 
not mentioned by the old historians. It is certain, however, that, 
though common some few years previous to 1840, it became extinct 
in the islands from that year till 1858 or 1859, when, thanks to the 
enterprise of Mr. Richard Parrell, an importation took place from 
the United States. Several pairs were turned out, and these, 
increasing rapidly, soon spread over the islands to such an extent 
that the species may now once more be considered common. The 
manners and customs of this handsome bird are too well known for 
me to venture on details. From my notes, however, I extract the 
following, which may prove of interest. It is extremely prolific. 
Mr. Samuel Harvey told me of a nest near his garden containing 
eighteen eggs, every one of which hatched off; there are seldom 
less than twelve eggs in a nest; they sit in the cedar trees on wet 
days, and during the mid-day heat, roosting there at night. When 
once flushed they are very hard to put up a second time, even with 
good dogs, being able, according to popular superstition, to conceal 
their scent at will; they run rapidly, and squat closely in the thick 
sage-bush, the strong smell of which is calculated to puzzle a dog. 
Their call-note is triple, ‘‘hoo-woo-wooit,’”’ the ‘‘hoo’’ indistinct 
