252 THE LAND OF THE LION 



These two hours, nine and four, are kept with extraor- 

 dinary exactness. Men who make a business of collecting 

 the eggs, if they are in a country where a view can be 

 had over an extensive country, find that they can do better, 

 by going to such vantage points at nine and four with their 

 field glasses, than they can by roving over the country, 

 even when assisted by sharp-eyed natives. They have 

 assured me they can almost set their watches by the 

 appearance of the birds. It used to be supposed that 

 the broken eggs found lying round a nest were broken 

 carelessly by the birds, or by the attack of some marauding 

 hyena or jackal. Evidence is accumulating that the 

 hen arranges certain of her left-over eggs, when the nest 

 is full, at such a distance from the edge of the nest that 

 both she and her faithful lord can feed on them. Ostriches, 

 instead of being, as the fables had it, the most careless 

 of parents, are extraordinarily brave and intelligent in 

 the defence of their nests and their young. 



Several months have passed since I first said something 

 in these notes about the "honey bird." When my men 

 told me that this strange little fellow was an actually reli- 

 able guide to the bee tree, and that the natives depended 

 on its guidance to find them honey, I did not believe it. 



Since then I have made a point of following up this 

 little feathered challenger whenever I could do so. 



About the size of a small brown thrush, creamy white 

 on the neck and upper breast, with a sharp chattering 

 cry, it will light on a bough by the trail side and flutter 

 from branch to branch. 



If a native wants honey he whistles to it at once. The 

 N'dorobo and Elgaos sing a song to it: 'You are a pretty 

 little bird with a white throat, but don't tell me any lies 

 and lead me straight to the honey tree." 



I think I must have followed the bird certainly more 

 than a dozen times, and it never once failed to "lead me 



