152 The Breeding of the Lesser Diiica I'iiieli. 
tliat the hen liad laid another clutch of three eggs, which 1 
tjiought to be very sharp work. I had not yet seen the young 
birds since they were fledged, and, as I had to be away from 
liome for a few days at this time, they must have been nearly 
a month old when I first saw one of them flying after its parent 
and asking to be fed. In everything but size it was an exact 
replica of the hen, and at the time of writing the only one that 
survived is hardly to be distinguished from either parent. 
Strange to say, the clutch of eggs had disappeared in my 
absence, so, suspecting mice, I removed the nest. The hen 
promptly started building on another site, and is now feeding 
young once more. 
I don't know whether Hiiica minor has been previously 
bred, but I believe that Miss R. Alderson bred Diuca diuca 1 
good many years ago. Possibly I may be entitled to a medal. 
I have to record failures with Golden-breasted Buntings, 
and Misto Seed-finches. If success is met with later in the 
season, an account of the nesting of these shall be sent. 
Writing in Argentine Ornithologx of the wild life of 
IK }ninor, Mr. Hudson says: — 
' This pretty little grey and white finch is common on the Chilian 
side of the Andes and throughout Patagonia. It is a tuneful bird, lively, 
social and frolicsome in its disposition; in autumn and winter uniting in 
flocks of from fifty to three or four hundred individuals, swift of flight, 
and when on the wing fond of pursuing its fellows and engaging in mock 
battles. The song of the male is very pleasing, the voice having more 
(lei)th and mellowness than is usual wiih the smaller fringilline singers, 
which, as a rule, have their reedy and tremulous notes. In summer .'t 
begins singing very early, even before the faintest indication of coming 
daylight is visible, and at that dark silent hour the notes may be heard 
at a great distance, and sound wonderfully sweet and impressive. During 
the cold season, when they live in companies, the singing time is in the 
evening, when the birds are gathered in some thick-foliaged tree or bush, 
which they have chosen for a winter roosting place. This winter evening 
song is a hurried twittering, and utterly unlike the serene note of the male 
bird heard on summer mornings. A little while after sunset the flock 
bursts into a concert, which lasts several minutes, sinking and growing 
louder by turns, and during which it is scarcely possible to distinguish the 
notes of individuals. Then follows an interval of silence, after which 
singing is again renewed very suddenly, and as suddenly ended. For an 
hour after sunset, and when all other late singers like the Mimus have 
long been silent, this fitful, impetuous singing is continued. Close by .. 
house on the Rio Negro, in which I spent several months, there were three 
