100 



KNOWLEDGE 



[Mat 2, 1898. 



and the more we study the habits of the solitary species 

 so much more does our wonder and admiration increase. 

 When we subject each species to a microscopical examina- 

 tion, we find such an endless wealth of beauty of form, 

 and marvellous adaptation of every part, that we feel 

 utterly at a loss for words wherewith to describe their 

 perfection. 



♦ 



A VALLEY ON SAO NICOLAU, CAPE VERDE 

 ISLANDS. 



By Boyd Alexander, m.b.o.u. 



ON dropping anchor in Porto Preguiza, the little 

 harbour of Sao Nicolau, one seeks in vain for 

 cool verdure whereon to look and rest one's eyes. 

 Brown, lofty hills, with asute-angled summits, 

 chiselled by the rough hand of Vulcan, rise up 

 with weary persistency. There are places, however, on 

 their lower portions washed over with the filmy green of 

 grass, a growth which is quickly eaten over by goats and 

 the thousands of locusts that infest the plains. The 

 little clouds now and again take pity on these pastures of 

 stone ; they come creeping to their relief, but it is often only 

 to expire in the attempt about half way down the steep 

 slopes. Here and there on the small plains grow scattered 

 acacia trees {Acacia alhida). Some are stunted as though 

 they had devoted all their lives in trying to obtain a firm 

 foothold in the rocky soil, while there are others with backs 

 bent double by the strong north wind. 



For the past three years rain has hardly fallen on the 

 island, with the result that a famine is pinching the 

 inhabitants. 



The maize, the peasants' chief support, will not grow, 

 and now they have only to rely upon the tardy arrivals of 

 schooners filled with grain from the States. 



From Preguiza a road leads up to the village of Stancha, 

 situated in the only fertile valley that the island possesses. 

 It is a broad, finely paved road, constructed with great 

 skill, and with a careful eye to gradients ; too good by far, 

 and, in fact, incongruous, for such an island, where there 

 is only donkey and foot traffic. But the Portuguese excel 

 in road making. Furthermore, this road is the means of 

 employing many of the native women, who would other- 

 wise starve during frequent dearths of rain on the island. 

 On November 5th we travelled along this road on 

 donkeys, and met numbers of women struggling with heavy 

 stones upon their heads and sweating from every pore. 

 Their work, which lasts from sunrise to dusk, is hard, and 

 they earn scarcely enough to keep body and soul together 

 — fourpence a day. 



After a good half-hour's ride along the foot of a lofty hill 

 range, that increased in height as we journeyed north- 

 wards, we commenced to descend a steep and capacious 

 valley ; and at the bottom of this great dried-up water- 

 course, just where it bends eastward to gain the sea, lay the 

 village of Stancha, nestling amongst an abundance of 

 tropical growth. Owing to the limited space the houses of 

 this little town are closely picked together, the majority 

 being nothing better than huts, with walls of rough stone 

 pieced and stuck together with mud, and thatched with the 

 dried blades of the maize and sugar cane. Id colour the 

 huts are a predominant brown, only a shade or two darker 

 than the steep sides of the valley. 



There are, however, besides a church, a few houses that 

 stand out distinct, by reason of their size, white-plastered 

 walls, and red-tiled roofs. One of these, a well-built 

 chateau, is on an eminence overlooking Stancha, and 

 belongs to Mr. St. Aubyn, an Englishman — and the only 

 one on the island. 



Both he and Senhor Antonio Reis, one of the principal 

 Portuguese citizens of the place, showed us much kindness, 

 supplying us, amongst other necessaries, with bread that 

 was almost at famine prices. 



The day after our arrival we arose early and started 

 out to investigate the bird life of this large valley. On 

 that particular morning an entrancing beauty seemed to 

 hold it. 



Coffee bushes clothe many portions of its sides, while 

 on the higher ground maize surrounded the scattered huts 

 of peasants. Here and there the coffee growth gives way to 

 orange trees flourishing in the midst of sugar cane planta- 

 tions, bordered in places near a stream's bank with strips 

 of fish cane ; while beyond, and overtopping them, are tall 

 cocoanut trees. 



AU this mass of foliage forms a fine study in shades of 

 green — the deep green of the orange leaf, and that of the 

 cocoanut palm a few tones lighter ; then the tender verdure 

 of the sugar cane blade ; and, lastly, the delicate bluish 

 green of the fish cane. 



The innumerable banana plants, with some of their 

 large leaves in shreds, as if deftly torn by many fingers, 

 made avenues of the streams, with banks adorned by 

 maidenhair ferns hanging in tresses from the rocks. 



Almost the first birds to draw our attention were 

 two species of sparrows — the Santiago sparrow {Passer 

 jaf/oensis) and the Spanish sparrow {Paxser salicicola). We 

 had met with them on the other islands of the archipelago, 

 but had come to Sao Nicolau just at the right season to 

 find them breeding. 



Since Gould described Passer jagoensis as being peculiar 

 to Santiago it has now become well distributed throughout 

 the whole group, but it is most numerous on Santiago and 

 Maio, where, in the latter island, its numbers are truly 

 remarkable. 



This bright plumaged sparrow is not at all particular as 

 to where it builds its nest. Where trees are absent, 

 hollows underneath boulders or crevices in rocks are chosen 

 as nesting sites. In a tree the nest is domed, but when 

 in a hollow of the ground it is an open, compact structure, 

 and often lined with feathers. 



The eggs are four in number, and, like those of our tree 

 sparrow, in each clutch they are fairly uniform in colour, 

 with the exception of one, which is invariably lighter than 

 the rest. 



As to the Spanish sparrow, it breeds in the tops of the 

 cocoanut trees, and for this reason it has received the 

 name of the " cocoanut bird " from the natives. 



While on the island of Maio we came across this species 

 in vast numbers. 



Small clumps of acacia trees in a vaUey close to the sea 

 presented extraordinary spectacles. The upper branches 

 were simply crammed with bulky domed nests, hardly a 

 fo'bt intervening between each, while musical chirpings 

 issuing from a thousand throats tended to enhance the 

 remarkable aspect of this sparrow colony. 



Blackcap warblers filled the valley with their singing, 

 while now and again a far more mellow song would come 

 from a reed warbler ' Calamocichla breiipennis / hidden in 

 the depths of some coffee grove. The blackcap (Sylvia 

 atracapitlii) is a resident in the island, and breeds in 

 November. We found a considerable number of nests — 

 all built in the upper boughs of the coffee trees. The eggs 

 of only one out of the six perfect clutches we obtained 

 approach in any way the common type of our blackcap's ; 

 all the others are very light in ground colour, being 

 blotched, spotted, and streaked with dark and reddish 

 brown and underlying purplish markings — all forming a 

 thick zone round the larger ends. 



