THE BARBARY TURTLE DOVE. 49 
consider that if they keep Barbary doves the poor 
birds are certain to bring ill-luck to them, I do 
_not know from what cause the suspicion arises, 
but I have met with it once or twice. 
The affection towards each other between a pair 
of these doves is very great, though with others of 
his tribe the cock Barbary is apt to be quarrelsome, 
especially when nesting. He does not fight so 
much in the wing-striking manner usual in most 
dove battles, but charges the enemy in a series of 
hops, with lowered head, and a coo that is unmis- 
takably a war-cry, and that as a rule strikes terror 
into the heart of his opponent. Barbary doves will 
get absurdly tame; they will let you handle them 
and change their eggs, and will yet go on sitting 
as if it was all part of the day’s work. I have 
read of one bird that formed such an attachment 
to an old lady that it would regularly every day 
sit on a chair close to hers, and each afternoon both 
of them would take a nap. One day when the old 
lady awoke the bird was not on its chair, but 
nestling on her head in the folds of her cap, and 
was most reluctant to be removed, the cause being 
discovered when it was found the dove had laid 
an egg in what it evidently thought a very pretty 
nesting site. 
I have noticed before that birds have curious 
ideas on this subject. We had a little pair of 
Cordon Bleus that were often let out for a fly in 
the room, and they were never tired of inspecting 
one of the gas globes and considering its possibility 
as a very suitable place for a nest. 
Barbary doves are known to live to a great age. 
A gentleman at Brighton, in 1897, had then living 
a cock bird that he had had for 23 years, and that 
was adult when he first had it. Contrary to most 
of his kind, this particular dove was a confirmed 
old bachelor and refused all offers of a wife. 
Once I had a flight of over 30 Barbary doves 
loose in the garden. I believe they were all bred 
from one pair, and they used to roost summer and 
winter in some large hawthorn trees near the 
house, quite despising a dovecote near by, save for 
one single nest built in it. Twice a day, regularly 
as clockwork, the birds would assemble at this 
place to be fed. They all began to draw together 
' from different quarters as the feeding time drew 
near, and being very punctual, if the proper time 
came and their meal was a few minutes late, they 
would fly down to the orchard, where they knew 
they would probably find my bird-man working, 
to remind him, and escort him back in triumph 
to the feeding-place. The moment his steps 
tended in that direction the doves would leave the 
large Blenheim Orange apple-tree where they had 
been waiting and form a joyous advance-guard 
leading the way to the house. 
After some time my little flock of doves began 
to decrease, till only one solitary bird was left. I 
fancy many were shot, as they were fond of doing 
mischief in some allotment gardens not far away; 
others were stolen, or killed by cats. We had one 
tragic instance from the latter cause. A pair of 
the Barbarys were nesting high up in the roosting 
tree during the winter—for these doves will 
nest all the year round—and the old cock, not 
satisfied with one wife, went off after another. A 
just retribution followed, the cock and the new hen 
being both killed by a cat the same night. I was 
very interested to know what the widowed hen 
would do, for in doves the parent birds divide the 
duties of sitting, the cock bird sitting on the eggs 
by day, the hen at night. The love of birds for 
their eggs or young is very strong, and this hen 
sat bravely on through the cold and snow, and 
ended in bringing off a fine young one. 
Every spring I used to find deserted young doves 
in the garden, and a great trouble they were to 
me, for it is no use trying to get them adopted by 
other birds, for when the poor young nestlings 
run to a stranger for food their eagerness is only 
met by indifference or possibly blows. So like 
Pip in ‘Great Expectations’” I had no course left 
but to try and bring them up ‘“‘by hand,’’ a not 
too pleasant task, and one that is not altogether 
satisfactory in the case of young foreign doves less 
hardy than Barbarys. These young doves are 
cream in colour, but have dark eyes (which gradu- 
ally change to orange-red as they grow older), 
their beaks, feet, and legs are pale flesh-colour, 
and they at first have no black collar. 
Barbarys are not worth breeding from a financial 
point of view; there is little demand for them, and 
you may think yourself fortunate if you can get 2/- 
for a pair. I once bred some beautiful hybrids 
between a cock British Turtle-dove (Columba 
turtury) and a hen Barbary, and after I had parted 
with one of these hybrids it bred again with 
another hybrid, a Barbary Necklace. I have only 
one stock pair of Barbarys now, and these I keep 
for foster parents, for sitting on the eggs of rarer 
doves that perhaps are bad sitters. Not that I 
have ever had much success from this plan, but 
it is pleasant to feel you have the birds there if an 
occasion should arise, for if you had not got them 
and failed you would be sure to think the failure 
was due to their absence. 
If they were rarer one should value Barbary 
doves more, but to a true bird lover mere rarity 
does not matter, and these doves are so pretty and 
confiding—flying readily on your hand for crumbs 
of biscuit, and letting you stroke them—that they 
are a pleasure to keep as pets. 
When her late Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria 
E 
