The Honey-bird 
eighteen inches wide, and into this he put the 
honey. Placing the makeshift dish on his woolly 
pate with a grin, he was ready to start. 
Cooe rewarded the bird by crumbling up some 
of the comb that had the young bees in it, then, 
scratching a little earth aside with his assegai, 
placed the broken comb there, lightly re-covering 
it with earth. On many subsequent occasions 
I followed these birds. All my boys were honey 
gluttons, especially Cooe; they evidently pre- 
ferred the comb with the young bees within it, 
for they stuffed their mouths full of it—another 
proof that there is no accounting for taste. 
With reference to this bird, there is no sort of 
doubt but that they deliberately call the way- 
farer’s attention by chattering. I have tried them 
by persistently ignoring their summons, some- 
times owing to my not having time to follow it 
up, or to see what the bird would do in such a 
case. I found that they will track you for some 
time, but give it up as a bad business if you do 
not shortly take any notice of them. I take it 
that from time immemorial the natives have 
appreciated their feathered allies by leaving some 
of the comb as a reward, the birds being unable 
to obtain their favourite diet without human 
assistance. The trick has therefore almost be- 
come an hereditary instinct ! 
In this part of the country I noticed a great 
many native beehives, which are placed in the 
H 97 
