MEALY AMAZON. 115 



These sounds and utterances, no less than the actions of the birds 

 are often ludicrously misrepresented by writers; for example, speaking 

 of the Toucans, a well-known author says, " Grotesque as is their 

 appearance, they have a great hatred of birds which they think to be 

 uglier than themselves, and will surround and mob an unfortunate Owl 

 that by chance has got into the daylight; with as much zest as is 

 displayed by our Crows and Magpies at home under similar circum- 

 stances. While engaged in this amusement they get round the poor 

 bird in a circle, and shout at him so, that wherever he turns he sees 

 nothing but great snapping bills, a number of tails bobbing regularly 

 up and down, and threatening gestures in every direction." 



The above extract is very funny no doubt, but is it true? We do 

 not mean is it true that the Toucans will mob an Owl, for we have 

 no doubt that in common with all other feathered denizens of the 

 woods and fields, they have a horror of the midnight marauder that 

 comes slyly up on noiseless pinions, and pounces on them in the dark, 

 when they are unable to resist his insidious attack; but that they 

 surround him with threatening gestures, " because he is uglier than 

 themselves" is an absurd statement that should not have been made 

 by a naturalist of repute. In the first place are the Toucans ; are any 

 creatures for that matter, "ugly" or "grotesque" in their own eyes, 

 or in those of the Beneficent Being who made them, and fixed the 

 bounds of their habitation ? Certainly not ; we cannot for a moment 

 believe or accept as correct so rash an assertion. 



Similarly one may read in other works on natural history that some 

 bird utters "a sobbing sound of deep pain," when really it is the 

 creature's natural note, and is expressive of a variety of sentiments 

 which the writer in question has utterly failed to discriminate; or 

 another, speaking of the Nightingale, will call it " the bird forlorn " 

 and take its song to be " passing sad," when it is exactly the reverse. 



A more truthful, because more thoughtful and observant, writer says 

 upon the same subject in a recent essay : " There is no more miserable 

 captive, in a small way, than the c call-bird ' employed by bird-catchers. 

 He beats himself against the bars of his prison, and, at sight of his 

 free brethren overhead, utters pitiable cries, which an 'ingenious 

 naturalist ' has thus interpreted : f Call-birds manifest a most malicious 

 joy in bringing the wild ones into the same state of captivity. Their 

 sight and hearing infinitely excel those of the bird-catcher. The instant 

 the wild birds are perceived, notice is given by one of the call-birds, 

 after which follows the same tumultuous ecstasy of joy.' This may be 

 man's view of the situation; but what is the bird's? Dejected with 

 confinement, it is placed in a small cage upon the borders of a breezy 



