II.] CINNYBIS JULI^. 35 



also an abundant species, haunting the large fruit-trees in the 

 neighbourhood of the native huts ; and though not so conspicuous 

 as the blue and green parrots, or the brilliantly-coloured Lorikeet 

 (Loriculus honajpartci) — a little glowmg ball of vivid crimson, 

 yellow, and green — its peculiar appearance is even more striking 

 to a naturalist's eye. But of all the ornithological spoil we 

 obtained from the archipelago, the tiny little Sun-bird {Cinnyris 

 j'ulicc) was perhaps the most brilliant and the most beautiful. The 

 head and tail are metallic green, the back a deep red, and on the 

 under-surface the brilliant magenta of the throat gives place to a 

 rich orange on the breast and abdomen. These lovely little creatures 

 were not common, but a particular clump of low, flowering shrubs 

 close to the village of Meimbun was a favourite spot for them. 

 They were fearless enough of our presence, and as they flitted from 

 flower to flower with a short, jerky flight, or hung head downwards, 

 rifling the blossoms of their insects or nectar, their throats shone 

 like living rubies in the blaze of sunshine. The habits of this 

 genus are very much alike, and as I used to watch them my 

 thoughts often went back to a well-remembered spot on the Flats 

 of the Cape Town peninsula, whither some years ago I used to 

 stroll every morning to see the Nectarinias (C. chalyhccus) feasting 

 on a huge bush of Erica in full flower. In spite of their beauty of 

 plumage, however, these birds are not the best of characters, 

 constantly quarrelling and fighting, and driving away their 

 weaker brethren, just as is the case among the humming-birds. 

 Their many moral imperfections somewhat quieted my conscience 

 whenever I transferred a fine specimen to the collecting - bag. 

 They were, moreover, great rarities, having previously only been 

 discovered in the island of Mindanao by the naturalists of the 

 Challenger. 



South of Buat Tulipan was a picturesque little village, where 

 our friend the young Eajah lived. It was built half in, half out 

 of what appeared to be a lake, but was in reality a creek running 

 up from the sea, its entrance hidden by the mangroves. These 



