2IO SUNSHINE AND SPORT IN 



than has been made of them and their ways. 

 Long-tailed humming-birds [Althurus polytmus) 

 quiver like living gems beneath the towering 

 banana leaf or over the flaming hibiscus ; green 

 parrakeets {Conurus nanus) dash and scream on 

 the edge of the jungle beside the road ; the black 

 sparrow {Loxigilla) peeps curiously from the top of 

 a bush, and for an instant displays the coquettish 

 riband of scarlet at his throat. My old friend, the 

 turkey-buzzard, is conspicuous in all the cities, 

 where he goes by the new name of "John Crow," 

 though he smells no sweeter than elsewhere. He 

 is supposed to foretell death, a superstition shared 

 by folk of all colours. This is true to the extent 

 that if the pen-keeper sees a calf in a lively con- 

 dition, with an old " John Crow " keeping watch near 

 by, the calf will almost certainly be dead by night. 

 Of other birds of prey, I saw two round Moneague ; 

 the larger is the whistling chicken-hawk [Buteo), 

 a true buzzard, which "John Crow" is not, for all 

 his American name, and the smaller is the pigeon- 

 hawk {Falco columbarius), which agrees in size with 

 our merlin. Both are freely shot by the pen- 

 keepers, and trophies of their claws and wings may 

 often be seen hanging in the porch. Some of the 

 niggers eat the chicken-hawk. A boy at Montego 

 Bay told me that they catch the bird by taking 

 advantage of the fierce way in which it digs its 

 talons into its victim. A dead chicken is exposed 

 in a hollow gourd tethered in the middle of a com- 

 pound, and one or two lads lie in ambush with 

 cudgels. Presently the well-known whistle over- 

 head causes them to grip their staves more tightly, 

 and down comes the great hawk, pitching on the 



