310 FROM THE NIGER TO THE NILE 



chequered with the warm, brown patches of freshly tilled soil 

 bordered by woodland that stretched away over the brow 

 of the hills. In this locality I found an abundance of bird 

 life in the early mornings. It is just the place to tempt the 

 birds that love a borderland existence between the culti- 

 vated and the wild. There are close and open places both for 

 the shy and the bold. In the valleys below, and adjoining 

 the farms, are streams sheltered by thick trees, and small 

 clumps with undergrowth amid the cultivation afford a 

 refuge to the birds when they are disturbed while feeding. 



Here are some stray notes that attempt to give a picture 

 of the bird hfe about a farm where I stayed : 



Two communities of weavers {Melanopteryx nigerrima) 

 and {Hyphantornis cucullatus) have woven their pendent 

 nests to the slender branches of the mimosas close to a group 

 of huts. 



To-day, songs of thanksgiving for the warmth and sun- 

 light after the dreary day of yesterday are being sung by the 

 birds, and everywhere on the farms twitters, chirps, and calls 

 rise from a thousand feathered throats. 



The weavers' dwelUngs are full of bustle, and although 

 the two families find themselves such near-neighbours, there 

 is no quarrelling. Perhaps they know that it would take 

 too much time and trouble to rob each other of the closely 

 woven fibre ; nor is there cause for jealousies since their 

 feeding-grounds he differently. The black weaver passes 

 over the farm lands and seeks the belts of wood where he 

 searches for his favourite slugs and caterpillars, sometimes 

 all alone far from his home in the mimosas. Not so the 

 yellow weaver, who is the " sparrow " of the native farm, 



