on the Yucatan Jay.



121



and replaced him in the nest. The cock fed him once, I think ; at

10 p.m. I approached the aviary and flashed a pocket torch on the

scene. Both parents were, as I expected, sitting on their old

sleeping-perch right away from the nest, and the chick was being

allowed to die of cold and starvation. I took him in and stuffed him

with a small quantity of food, but he was very weak and refused to

gape. At the end of two days he had improved a little and I handed

him over to my friend, Mr. Lund, of Burnham, who I knew would

rear him if care, skill, and attention could do so.


Unfortunately, he never picked up his former vigour, and died

three or four days later.


I have kept the two unhatched eggs which I found in the nest

after my first catastrophe. When fresh they were exceptionally

handsome, being of a greenish-white ground colour heavily blotched

with orange-red spots—measurements respectively, 3 x 2-2 cm. and

3T x 2 cm.


All went quietly and uneventfully for the next few days. In

the meantime I had cut a cocoa-nut husk in half and cemented it care¬

fully into a wooden box. Here was a nest that even a Pie could

not pull to hits.


For a few days prior to July 24th both birds were again

carrying and pretending to build nests in various places. On that

date I found the hen sitting. On the 27th there were five eggs in

the cocoa-nut husk; these were due to hatch about August 12th.

Shortly before this I went away for a short holiday and returned on

the night of the 19th, but I asked no questions about the Pies,

expecting to hear good or bad news in good time. Finally, I screwed

up courage and asked the momentous question.


Well! the worst had happened—apparently all the eggs had

hatched out. No one had gone near the birds except to provide

food, of which they had received an ample and assorted supply. Yet

all I found on the following morning was an empty nest, some half

shells, and one dead chick about five days old which the old birds had

deposited on a ledge in the aviary.


And—here endeth the Second Lesson.


Some wiseacres will say that I failed because I interfered too

much and inspected too often ; even if I did I have learned more and



