218 EVERYDAY LIFE ON A 



bird-beasts have a head and body exactly like 

 a miniature fox, barring the tail, where the tail 

 should be, the huge bat wings end. They are 

 destructive to fruit and vegetables, and are 

 therefore a prey to the guns of the Estate 

 watchmen who shoot and sell them for food to 

 the coolies. Strange to say, the flesh of flying 

 foxes is much prized by people who would not 

 on any consideration eat a squirrel. 



We are astonished to find to what a height 

 in the sky they can rise, in spite of the size and 

 weight of their body. We often watch their 

 flight up, up into the air, till they appear a mere 

 speck in the sky. Their home here is on an 

 island in the middle of the Mahavillagange, to 

 which it is to be presumed they retire in the 

 daytime for we never see them until just before 

 sunset. At day dawn they have again dis- 

 appeared. Last night I heard the horrible cry 

 of the devil bird, a most weird sound just like 

 a human being in mortal agony, a sound which 

 has a piercing poignancy that would penetrate 

 through any number of more common-place 

 noises. 



