360



Mr. W. E. Teschemakek



out the sexes at a glance. Nevertheless, neither Capt. Perreau

nor I could be sure of the sexes at first, and I have noticed the

same thing in many other cases. They nested in July, laying a

single egg in a large untidy nest in an Aucuba. The egg is

rather smaller than that of A. modularis and distinctly lighter in

shade: dimensions .81 x .55. An average egg of A. modularis

measures .84 x .61. This egg hatched on 23rd July, after an

incubation-period of eleven days. Nothing but live insect food

was carried to the nest, and much of this was not provided by me

but brought to bag by the parents themselves, who were most

industrious in turning over leaves and investigating odd corners.

The young bird, who resembled his parents except that he had

no rufous on the chest, which was grey lightly spotted with

brown, left the nest 011 5th August, and in a day or two could

fly strongly.


Unfortunately his career was destined to be a short one, for,

just before he became quite independent, he was seen one day with

the lower mandible broken and hanging loose. His sorrowing

parents tried hard to feed him but the poor little fellow gradually

died of starvation. It is worthy of note that, when I caught the

young bird, to see if I could do anything for him, the adults

instead of manifesting any anxiety perched on an apple tree only

a few inches from my hand and appeared to be solicitously

awaiting the result of my diagnosis, so true is it that, in their

last extremity, the animals associated with man seem to realize

that his superior reasoning powers may be of use to them. Capt.

Perreau, Mr. W. T. Page and myself held a sort of inquest 011

the poor little corpse, but, though many explanations were sug¬

gested as to the cause of the accident, we none of 11s guessed the

true explanation which only came to light some twelve months

later. The mandible appeared to have been not only broken but

twisted with some force, and there was a good deal of blood on

the throat. This concludes the first chapter of the history of my

Accentors, which Chapter may be entitled “The Tragedy.”


The next Chapter opens more brightly, for on the 12th

July this year (1909) the same pair of birds hatched another

youngster, this time building an exceedingly neat and artistic

nest, lined with the feathers of Sonini’s Colin, in a Cupressus and



