On the Great Bustard.



i go



see no difference in her behaviour. However, I took the pre¬

caution on Friday evening of putting a board near the nest with a

little meal, some ants’ eggs, and mealworms upon it. I was going

to do the same on Saturday morning when the old bird came

rushing from a different place, and on going there I found the

young bird very weak, and almost unable to stand, with its eyes

shut, and looking very bad. By its emaciated appearance I

should say it had been hatched two or three days, and "was

suffering from want of food. I put all kinds of things round it,

and climbed into the beech tree to see if the old one would feed

it. But she did not, though I watched her some time. She picked

a little of the flowering grass and dropped it near the young

bird, but it was too far gone to eat. I thought the best thing

was to cram it with chopped mealworms, which I did several

times, and to leave the old one to brood it until evening. But

it died about five p.m. I have put it into spirits.”


When the young one was closely examined the skin of a

beetle larva (not a mealworm), that had been picked off the

ground, was sticking to its bill. It was unfortunate that at this

time there was a very unpleasant spell of weather, cold wind,

and showers of rain and hail. Possibly if it had been more

genial at this critical time, the little Bustard might have been

reared. In the autumn of this same year I lost this female from

a chill taken in a heavy storm of wind and wet snow in

November. This has up to now quite defeated my further

efforts to breed the Great Bustard. My remaining hen bird,

though nesting each year, has never hatched. And now for the

saddest part of my story ! My splendid old cock bird, which I had

kept here since the summer of 1891, a two-year-old bird then as

I thought when I received him, was startled a few weeks ago by

a gardener, whom he did not know, coming suddenly upon him.

The bird made a jump and fell on his side breaking his wing

close up to the body, and apparently a large artery was ruptured

by the splintered bone, for he was found a short time after¬

wards smothered in blood. Though a grand bird to look at, and

in perfect condition, he only weighed twenty pounds. A fine old

wild male will weigh thirty pounds or even something more ;

but probably the young birds captured and reared by hand, do



