THE MYNAS. 125 



mean the Mynas, which, among all classes of natives 

 who keep pets at all, are favourite cage-birds for 

 many reasons, but chiefly because they can be 

 taught to speak. The performance is rather like 

 a Punch-and-Judy dialogue, and you need to be 

 told what the bird is saying before you can recognise 

 it. But that matters little ; it amuses people who can 

 find little interest in the really amusing traits of the 

 bird's natural character. 



For the Myna has a character. I once had a Myna 

 and a canary in cages which hung at my window. 

 A ruffianly crow came in one day and perched on the 

 top of the canary's cage. Of course the silly bird 

 fluttered all round the cage, clinging to the bars, and 

 gave the crow the chance it wanted. It caught a 

 leg in its powerful beak and tried to pull it through 

 the bars. But the canary's body could not pass 

 through, so the poor bird's leg was literally torn out 

 by the roots, and it died in a few minutes. I 

 suppose the crow swallowed the leg, and shortly 

 afterwards it returned, thinking to have a leg of 

 the Myna for its next course. I was in the room, 

 but it did not see me ; so, after glancing round 

 the room with a proprietary air, it bounced on to the 

 top of the Myna's cage. But the Myna, sitting on its 

 perch, knew it was quite safe and felt no agitation ; 

 so it was free to take an interest in the crow, and its 

 interest fixed instantly on an ugly black toe which 

 hung down through the bars over its head. It caught 

 that toe in its sharp beak and made an example of it, 

 I tell you, it was exhilarating to observe the sudden- 

 ness with which that crow jumped to the conclusion 

 that it had urgent business elsewhere. Here is the 



