Mr. R. Phillipps,



326



materials of various kinds. They at once took to the log, both

sleeping in it at night, and both occasionally carrying materials

into it in their beaks. While the female was in the log, which

was not of infrequent occurrence, the male would sit outside and

“sing.” From time to time the male would regurgitate food,

which at first he did with so much difficulty (being probably a

rather young bird) I really feared that something might be stuck

in his throat. This action was accompanied by a curious low

noise, a sort of kiick, kuck, kick , which doubtless was a call to the

female in the log, for she would promptly come out and seat her¬

self by his side, and partake of food from his mouth in the usual

manner. Another very similar note is cook , cook, frequently re¬

peated in a low voice. It was uttered by one of the parents, in the

company of its mate and young ones, and seemed to be an invitation

to the mate to come and examine into the merits and demerits of

a possible new nesting-site. As far as I was able to observe, all

their love-passages, even in the aviary, take place in the open.

They favour a particular part of a particular perch, from which,

curiously enough, they cannot see even the entrance to the bird-

room much less keep an eye on the nest; they like to feed in one

particular spot, which, too, has the disadvantage—to our minds—

of being actually as far removed from, and as completely out of

sight of, the nest as the limits of the aviary will permit; and in

many ways they betray their likings for particular localities. In

the wild state, doubtless they keep much to that part of the

forest to which they have been accustomed from their fledgeling

state; while their rapid flight would enable them to go off for

water to their favourite Muguazi river, and return to their homes,

in a very short space of time. Mais a nos perroquets :—no eggs

were laid in this cage. The log was fairly well concealed, but

not sufficiently so for them. By their occasional fits of dashing

and banging about, they plainly shewed that they had a soul

above such straitened quarters; and so, on May 26, they were

transferred to the birdroom, where, having repelled and utterly

routed my old male Varied Lorikeet (N.S. I., p. 287), who resented

their intrusion and continues to resent their masterfulness, they

quickly settled down. The window of the birdroom opens into

that part of the garden aviary in which trees do not live, thanks



