THE CUCKOOS. 55 



mit the care of its offspring. The crows seem to have 

 a shrewd suspicion that they are played upon in some 

 way by the Koel, and they never see the bird without 

 mobbing him, but he dives into some thick tree with 

 loud screams, and dodges them among the foliage, 

 while the silent and insidious hen Koel takes advan- 

 tage of their absence to drop an egg or two into their 

 nests. Crows cannot count above three at the most, 

 and the new egg is not unlike their own, so they 

 never discover the trick, and when the young bird 

 grows up and develops its long tail, they are quite 

 proud of it. Only yesterday I saw a pair of crows 

 fondly feeding a clamorous young Koel, together 

 with its foster brother, their own child. It was hun- 

 gry and clamorous too, but the Koel appeared to be 

 the favourite with the parents. The European Cuckoo 

 coolly ejects the rightful occupants of the nest and 

 takes their inheritance. The young Koel is not so 

 base. 



There is another Cuckoo whose voice is more de- 

 pressing to me than that of the Koel, and it is 

 more persistent ; at least, it cries more in the night. 

 Its Latin name, Cacomantis passerinus (in Jerdon, 

 Polyphasia nigra\ is particularly happy. Jerdon calls 

 it the Plaintive Cuckoo, and likens its cry to the 

 syllables, Kaveer, Kaveer, Kaveer. It is also black, 

 or dark ashy, and long-tailed like the Koel, but it is 

 a little bird. Its eggs have been found in the nests 

 of wren-warblers, bulbuls, and other small birds. It 

 is seldom seen. 



Neither of these two Cuckoos is nearly so common 

 in Bombay as on the mainland. But there is another 

 species which appears to prefer our island to any 



