81. MOUSSIEB'S BED8TABT. 



numbers,) there is little doubt that this bird would also have crossed 

 to the Spanish side of the straits, and that it is, though rarely, 

 found in South Andalusia. The late M. Favier, whose M.S. notes, I 

 am happy to say, I have succeeded in purchasing, mentions one 

 killed near Tangier in 1848. He calls it ' crythrogastra/ but his 

 description and measurements sufficiently identify it as a male M. 

 Moussieri. He adds that they migrate to Europe, and return in 

 October, but are excessively rare." 



Hitherto considered as exclusively limited to North-west Africa, 

 this charming bird is a welcome addition to the European fauna as 

 limited in this work. Its "place in nature" is also very interesting, 

 as it forms a transitional link between the Redstarts and the Chats, 

 partaking more of one or the other according to the peculiar opinions 

 of observers. 



From no pen have we had a more clear and graphic description 

 of this bird in its native haunts than* from that of Canon Tristram, 

 and as I have endeavoured in this work always to give the ipsissima 

 verba of writers, rather than condense or summarise without acknow- 

 ledgement, I shall quote the distinguished Canon's own words, from 

 the "Ibis'' of 1860, p. 364:— 



"Beyond the Hammam Weled Zeid, which we did not reach till 

 nearly noon, was an Arab tribe where Sala had acquaintance, from 

 whom he was promised eggs and barley cake if I could wait for an 

 hour. I sat down on the bank side, letting my horse graze under 

 the trees, and seldom have I enjoyed a more lovely view. The 

 scenery was not grand, but exquisitely rich. Below me the streaming 

 little torrent of warm water was dashing into the deep glen. The 

 sides of it were clad with pear-trees, figs, wild prunes, and hawthorn, 

 all in full blossom. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless, and of 

 the deepest blue; the air charged with perfume of jasmine, rose, 

 hawthorn, and scented genista. There was nothing in the scenery to 

 astonish, but all was soft, luxuriant, and English. Dreaming of 

 home, I was roused from my reverie by a familiar note, the quickly 

 repeated chirrup of Moussier's Redstart, Huticilla Moussieri, so well 

 described by its native name of 'Zinzukh.' I soon descried my 

 little friend perched like a Stonechat upon the topmost quivering 

 bough of a small Numidian broom, as, regardless of my presence, 

 he turned himself round and round on his perch and performed 

 various somersaults to exhibit his rich and softly-blended plumage, 

 continuing the while his cheerful monotonous note. If ever Libya 

 were in search of an ornithological emblem, Moussier's Redstart 

 should be its emblazon. There is no other bird so truly and strictly 



