THE GOLDEN ORIOLE 137 



These are not pleasant to the ear and may be described 

 as blends, in varying proportions, of the harsh call of 

 the king-crow and the miau of a cat. The hen almost 

 invariably utters such a note when a human being 

 approaches the nest ; but the cry apparently does not 

 always denote alarm, for I have heard an oriole uttering 

 it when sitting placidly in a tree, seemingly at peace 

 with all the world ; but perhaps that particular bird 

 may have been indulging in unpleasant day dreams ; 

 who knows? 



We hear much of the marvellous nests of tailor- and 

 weaver-birds, but never of that of the oriole. Natural- 

 ists, equally with poets, have neglected this beautiful 

 species. An oriole's nest is in its way quite as wonder- 

 ful as that of the tailor-bird. If a man were ordered to 

 erect a cradle up in a tree, he would, I imagine, con- 

 struct it precisely as the oriole does its nest. This last 

 is a cup-shaped structure slung on to two or three 

 branches of a tree by means of fibres which are wound 

 first round one branch, then passed under the nest, and 

 finally wound round another bough. The nest is 

 therefore, as Hume pointed out, secured to its support- 

 ing branches in much the same way as a prawn net is 

 to its wooden framework. 



In places where there are mulberry trees the oriole 

 shaves off narrow strips of the thin, pliable bark and 

 uses these to support the nest. Jerdon describes one 

 wonderful nest, taken by him at Saugor, that was 

 suspended by a long roll of cloth about three-quarters 

 of an inch wide, which the bird must have pilfered from 

 some neighbouring verandah. "This strip," he states, 



