West-Indian Humming-birds. 507 



sweetness in it, only a series of weak little squeaky notes 

 which would not have been heard many yards off, but still a 

 continuous song. I presently threw some stones gently at 

 it, in hopes of it shifting its position to a more favourable 

 one for shooting at. But he still kept to the same side of 

 the path and began feeding among the flowering shrubs 

 down the mountain-side, and. so I lost him. I saw two or 

 three more that day and shot one, but it was smashed beyond 

 repair. My next expedition to the same locality found oue 

 of this species — perhaps the same bird — in exactly the same 

 place where I saw the first one, and this time, observing 

 there were some large broad leaves immediately underneath 

 him, from which I could retrieve him without any risk to 

 my neck, I shot him. He fell on to one of these leaves, but 

 before I could get at him had recovered and went whizzing 

 down the mountain-side, and so was lost. After a long hunt 

 in the gloomy forest among dense vegetation, tree-ferns, 

 creepers, rotten logs, stones, swamps, &c., I had similar bad 

 luck with another one, only wounding him, and being unable 

 to follow his course through the dense growth. After that, 

 on my way back, I had better luck and killed a couple of 

 good specimens, not a bit spoilt by the shot. I spied the 

 first sitting on a twig of a flowering tree with white blossoms, 

 luckily on the upper side of the path ; so, leaving my pony 

 in charge of the negro boy, I crawled up the bank until I was 

 within shot of him. He frequently came back to the same 

 twig after feeding among the blossoms, this twig being so 

 close to me that I could not shoot without blowing him all 

 to pieces. At last I got a shot as he was feeding, but missed 

 him. However, he did not seem to take that amiss, but 

 went on feeding (his humming is not very loud), and presently 

 came back to rest on his favourite perch. I was a little 

 further away by this time and shot him quite clean. The 

 other I shot was perched on a twig over the pathway in 

 a dark gloomy corner. This was also on a tree with white 

 blossoms. 



I never heard the note of this bird, except the little song 

 before mentioned. 



