on Gziilding's Amazon Parrot. 123


that the native who brought this to her said he had never seen

one in such young plumage. She also told me that he had been

devoted to a small Amazon which one day poisoned itself with

parsley, and that he moped so after its death that she had the

greatest difficulty in coaxing him to eat. That he loved his

liberty (with a cut wing) in the garden, and was very destructive

to the orange trees. He seems to me to feel cold, so he can’t

have his liberty at present, and if he is not goingto make friends,

I don’t see how he ever is to have it.


He was fond of his mistress, made friends with the English

cook, and was devoted to a black servant. I should have sup¬

posed that he declined to make friends with a man, but he shows

no signs of caring for my parlour-maid. I can only suppose

that his heart has been so often “torn with partings ” that he

now declines to let it take root any more. He does not care

twopence for the Versicolor or the Blue-fronted Amazon, is

tolerant of the Blossom-heads and a Grey, and was only roused

by a Blue-bonnet. That did really rouse him to fury. He

dashed at the bars of his cage nearest it, and dashed towards me

whenever I approached his cage. And curiously enough, its

presence caused him to go nearer sounds like speech than he

ever uttered before or since. Whether he supposed it to be a

hawk or what, I don’t know, but he never got reconciled to its

presence. He is said to be afraid of children, but I have not

brought any to see him. It is rather singular that the “ last of

its species” belonging to a lady in Loudon shows the most

unmeasured terror at the sight of a child. She tells me its eyes

start out of its head, it gasps for breath, and that you can hear

its heart beat. That one was at first morose, but has taken the

most dog-like devotion to her, though still savage to all the

world beside.


Of the two “ last of their species” still remaining in St.

Vincent, I am told one, belonging to Mr. Frazer who was him¬

self destroyed by the eruption, talks, and that the other is a good

talker. So I suppose they can talk. The “last of its species”

in the Zoo seems to me as morose as mine, which is however a

much finer bird. But if these birds are never reared from the

nest, but only obtained by shooting, there is some excuse for



