LOVE AND COURTSHIP AMONG BIRDS. 281 



plaining piteously, demonstrating his grief by voice and actions, he 

 flies about the corpse of his loved one, touches it perhaps with his 

 bill as though he would move it to rise and fly away with him, 

 raises anew his heart-rending cries, which are intelligible even to 

 man; wanders within his range from place to place, pausing awhile, 

 calling, coaxing, and complaining, now in one favourite spot, now 

 in another; neglects to take food, throws himself angrily on other 

 males of his species as if he envied them their happiness and would 

 make them share his own misfortune; finds no rest anywhere, 

 begins without finishing, and acts without knowing what he does. 

 So he goes on for days, perhaps weeks, in succession, and often he 

 remains as long as possible on the scene of his misfortune, without 

 making any expeditions in search of a fresh mate. 65 Certain species, 

 by no means only those parrots so appropriately named " insepar- 

 ables ", but finches and others, even horned owls, after such a severe 

 blow lose all joy in life, mourn quietly, and literally pine away 

 until released by death. 



One of the chief causes, if not the sole cause, of such deep grief 

 may be the great difficulty, sometimes the impossibility, of finding 

 and winning another mate. The female has often no time for grief, 

 for, sooner or later, sometimes immediately, new suitors appear and 

 so overwhelm her with attention and tenderness that she must let 

 herself be consoled whether she will or not. And if, in addition, 

 anxiety about her brood fills her motherly heart, all other thoughts 

 give place to that, and no room is left for enduring grief. But if 

 she, too, has a difficulty in replacing her loss, she expresses her sorrow 

 no less distinctly than the male. But sometimes she does even more, 

 for she may voluntarily forego a new alliance. A sparrow widow, 

 carefully observed by my father, though she had eggs to hatch, and, 

 later, young ones to rear, accepted none of her suitors but remained 

 unmated, and fed her clamouring brood alone with indescribable 

 toil. Another touching incident proving the grief of widowed birds 

 is vouched for by Eugen von Homeyer. The wedded bliss of a pair 

 of storks, nesting on the roof of that experienced naturalist's house, 

 was brought to a sudden end by one of those detestable bird-shooters 

 or would-be sportsmen who killed the male. The sorrowing widow 



