B. Whitlcnu—Notes on Various Birds



73



particular Whydah, who followed it about all day and roosted near it

at night, neither Dove taking the slightest notice of its admirer. The

younger bird at last grew tired of his queer infatuation, but the older

one took advantage of a very spoony phase the Doves were going

through to roost every night tightly jammed in between the two, and

would peck and swear viciously if one of the Doves fidgeted. The

Doves never resented the presence of the intruder.


Have any of my fellow-members noticed how vicious young

Budgerigars can be when about three weeks out of the nest ? I always

found that as soon as they got their yellow foreheads they would settle

down into comparative respectability. That unfortunate crippled

Turtle Dove was always the butt of all their mischief—the usual idea

was to get on his back and try to scalp him. On several occasions

I was only just in time to avert serious trouble.


One young terror used to use the Dove’s tail as a swing, and seemed

to delight in the general scuffle which invariably resulted. No sooner

had things quieted down than he would creep along a branch upside-

down and bite the Dove’s toes. The look of almost imbecile bewilder¬

ment on the victim’s face was really very funny ; it never seemed able

to make out where the attack was coming from.


I one day picked up a sorry-looking scarecrow—one could hardly

call it a bird—at one of the London dealers for a few pence. This

half-plucked, dingy object developed into a regular gem of a Lavender

Finch, which ultimately went to the Zoo. He was one of the most

aggravating little rascals I have ever met—except an equally minute

ball of wickedness, a Green Singing Finch.


As soon as he got his clean bill of health I put him into a large,

dome-shaped cage with a lot of other small fry. Every night, when

all the others had gone to bed, he would take nocturnal peregrinations,

hanging upside-down from the top of the cage. When he had had

enough he would drop like a stone, smack ! on top of the sleeping

mites below, and nearly scare them into fits. I always found him quite

unconcerned on a perch in the midst of the general flutter. Nothing

could be more lovely than his delicate grey set off by his tiny crimson

tail—the same scheme of colour affected, on a much coarser scale, by

the African Grey Parrot.



