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Congratulatory broods.



In the afternoon of the tragedy I went round at 3 o’clock to


feed them, saw two in the run and one outside! “ How on earth-- ? ”


At that moment a third walked out of the roosting-house, and then

I realised that the “outsider” was the lost bird, which must have

fled away in the night when the marauder took the other.


It pleased me greatly, for it shows that these splendid

Pheasants have a homing instinct, and it is my intention to leave

them at large when they are grown enough to roost higher, and are

too big for cats to seize upon.


The parent birds are in an aviary.


Is there anything more gorgeous than a male Monaul in full

beauty ? The shimmering copper on the neck, with the emeralds,

sapphires and amethysts which flash on his upper parts, is enhanced

by the deep black of the breast and the chestnut-coloured tail.


The egg of this Pheasant is very handsome. The size of a

domestic hen’s, but longer — a rich buff, profusely spotted with

chestnut.


The young are perfectly easy to rear — custard for the first four

or five days and then meal.


My birds had the advantage of as much wild green food as

they wanted, and this is very necessary, passing the day with their

foster-mother amongst bushes, where they no doubt found plenty of

insects.


I had hoped for a brood of Ross’s Snow Goose. Four eggs.

Two came to nothing, although fertile ; one beautiful gosling which

hatched was squashed in the night by a lumping Light Sussex hen,

and the survivor was pecked on the head by a Jackdaw and succumbed

to its injuries. These goslings are clothed in yellowish-green down,

which is extremely abundant and fluffy. (June.)


The four Monauls (August) are now larger than a common

hen Pheasant, and have their squared chestnut tails, barred with

dark brown, in the place of the pointed feathers of the first plumage.

They have taken to roosting inside a large barn, high up under the

roof on a cross-beam, entering under the barn door, jumping on to a

waggon, and so up from beam to beam. They run every morning to

meet me in the garden.



