286 BOMBAY DUCKS 
account of such birds as peewits and curlews, for these, 
although blessed with loud, penetrating voices, shun 
human habitations ; they are denizens of lonely moors 
and fens, where any bird or man is at liberty to raise 
his voice to the uttermost without being dubbed “noisy.” 
If the English team is sadly weakened by the absence 
of the corn-crake, the brain-fever bird is scarcely missed 
from the Indian eleven. His cousin, the koel (Eudy- 
namzis honorata), who is very partial to Madras, is an 
efficient substitute. Indeed, he is often called the brain-: 
fever bird in this part of the world, but never by those 
who have listened to the real article. His crescendo 
“Kuil, kuil, kuil,” heard both by day and by night, is a 
noise of which any fowl might be proud. 
The white-breasted kingfisher is another noisy bird 
very common in Madras. His harsh scream is only 
too familiar to us. But we tolerate it for its beauty’s 
sake. As he dashes through the air, with the sun 
shining on him, he is a truly magnificent object—a 
dazzling flash of blue, of which the brilliance is en- 
hanced by a setting of chocolate and white. 
In spite of his small size, the spotted owlet can hold 
his own, as regards vociferousness, against all comers. 
It is true that his caterwaulings cannot be heard 
three miles away. If they carried that distance the 
inhabitants of India would all be deaf mutes. In the 
vicinity of Madras there must be between six and 
seven hundred spotted owlets to the square mile, so 
that, if their voices were audible three miles away, and 
all spoke at once, we should spend our nights listening 
to a chorus of about two thousand spotted owlets. 
