THE VIOLET (OR WHITE-FRONTED) DOVE. 83 
LIFE IN CAPTIVITY. 
Of all the many kinds of doves I have kept, 
there is none I love so much as the Violet dove. 
To see a fine male bird in perfect plumage is a 
feast to one’s eyes; the snowy whiteness of the 
breast, the glorious beauty of the neck, no words 
can describe; it must be seen to be realised. 
My first pair of Violet doves came to me in 
October, 1901, they being then very rare in Eng- 
land. A gentleman had privately imported a few, 
and one of these was exhibited at the Crystal 
Palace Show in that year. I paid 25/- for my pair 
of birds; neither could fly, and one of them, a few 
months later, broke its. leg and died. My third 
bird was a splendid specimen that I paid 22/6 for. 
He had been hand-reared by the natives, and was 
one of the finest birds I have ever seen, but to my 
disappointment he would not take to my remain- 
ing bird. 
In the meantime, seeing my new arrival had 
begun to pine away, I wrote to try and procure 
his original mate, but I was too late; she had been 
sold to a lady in Germany. In April, 1902, how- 
ever, my friend received one odd bird, in a con- 
signment of birds and reptiles that nearly all 
perished on the way, through delay in transit. 
I was warned before getting this bird that it 
was in terrible condition though healthy, but half 
a Violet was better than none at all, though I must 
confess to feeling a great shock when, on diving 
into the travelling hamper, I fetched up about the 
most featherless bird I have ever come across; it 
gave me quite a creepy feeling. But the bird was 
healthy enough, and after a few months’ nursing 
came round, and very fortunately proved a hen. 
Both I and my beautiful cock ‘‘Narcissus”’ were 
delighted, and at once, on seeing her, he began 
bowing to the ground and cooing, puffing out his 
neck till it was a sheen of rainbow colours. 
The birds soon began to nest, but though the 
eggs were fertile something always happened—the 
eggs were gnawed, broken, or thrown out. The f 
birds sat well, but were very fond of both sitting 
together on the nest, a proceeding always fraught 
with danger to the eggs. At last I had so many 
disappointments that I determined I would not |; . 
allow myself to hope any longer; it was always the 
same story repeated, and ‘“‘he that is down need 
fear no fall.”’ I would let the Violets do what they 
liked, but I would not expect anything from them. 
This went on until the second week in June, 
1903, when two young birds were hatched. The 
doves had been perpetually laying eggs and sitting 
since the middle of February in that year, and I 
believe a good deal of their failure was due to a 
little Combasou who gnawed the eggs. Unfortu- 
Fic. 3. 
VIOLET OR Witte SRONTES Dove. 
.—Younc Cock. 
.—YounG BIRDS JUST LEFT NEST. 
.—OLp Cock, HEN, and YounG Cock. 
From The Avicultural Magazine. 
Now 
Ww 
