A73 
THE BIRDS OF THE BERMUDAS. 
By Savite G. Rep, Lrevr. R.E., F.Z.S.* 
Ortyx virginianus, Virginian Partridge or Quail.—This bird, 
known to us on this side of the Atlantic as a comparatively recent 
introduction, under the name of Virginian “Colin,” is the game- 
bird of Bermuda; but whether it originally found its way there from 
the American continent without the agency of man is doubtful. 
It is not mentioned by the old historians. It is certain, however, 
that, though common some few years previous to 1840, it became 
extinct in the islands from that year till 1858 or 1859, when, thanks 
to the enterprise of Mr. Richard Darrell, an importation took place 
from the United States. Several pairs were turned out, and these, 
increasing rapidly, soon spread over the islands to such an extent 
that the species may now once more be considered common. The 
manners and customs of this handsome bird are too well known for 
me to venture on details. From my notes, however, I extract the 
following, which may prove of interest. It is extremely prolific. 
Mr. Samuel Harvey told me of a nest near his garden containing 
eighteen eggs, every one of which hatched off; there are seldom 
less than twelve eggs in a nest; they sit in the cedar trees on wet 
days, and during the mid-day heat, roosting there at night. When 
once flushed they are very hard to put up a second time, even with 
good dogs, being able, according to popular superstition, to conceal 
their scent at will; they run rapidly, and squat closely in the thick 
sage-bush, the strong smell of which is calculated to puzzle a dog. 
Their call-note is triple, ‘ hoo-woo-wooit,” the “hoo” indistinct 
and audible for a short distance only. I don’t think “ Bob- White,” 
the familiar American name, fairly represents the call; it is too 
sharp and well-defined. These birds are fond of the ripe berries of 
the sage and cedar; the latter give the flesh a decidedly unpleasant 
aromatic flavour. They also eat the sweet potatoes in small pieces. 
Great numbers of the young are destroyed by the swarm of cats 
which infest the islands. An old “coloured” lady once accosted a 
gallant officer of the 53rd Regiment, who was beating some likely 
ground near her cottage, and asked him what he was looking for, 
“ Partridges!” cried she, with a sneer on her sable features, “JZ don’t 
want a gun to get them. Why! my cat brings me in one every 
* Concluded from p, 424. 
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