ON AN EAST AFRICAN RANCH 
33 
most part they either had no names at all or names that 
meant nothing to us. There were glossy starlings of many 
kinds; and scores of species of weaver finches, some brill¬ 
iantly colored, others remarkable because of the elaborate 
nests they built by communities among the trees. There 
were many kinds of shrikes, some of them big, parti-colored 
birds, almost like magpies, and with a kestrel-like habit of 
hovering in the air over one spot; others very small and 
prettily colored. There was a little red-billed finch with its 
outer tail feathers several times the length of its head and 
body. There was a little emerald cuckoo, and a tiny thing, 
a barbet, that looked exactly like a kingfisher four inches 
long. Eared owls flew up from the reeds and grass. There 
were big, restless, wonderfully colored plantain-eaters in 
the woods; and hornbills, with strange swollen beaks. A 
true lark, colored like our meadow-lark (to which it is in 
no way related) sang from bushes; but the clapper-lark 
made its curious clapping sounds (apparently with its wings 
like a ruffed grouse) while it zigzagged in the air. Little 
pipits sang overhead like our Missouri skylarks. There 
were night-jars; and doves of various kinds, one of which 
uttered a series of notes slightly resembling the call of our 
whippoorwill or chuckwills widow. The beautiful little sun- 
birds were the most gorgeous of all. Then there were bus¬ 
tards, great and small, and snake-eating secretary birds, 
on the plains; and francolins, and African spurfowl with 
brilliant naked throats, and sand grouse that flew in packs 
uttering guttural notes. The wealth of bird life was be¬ 
wildering. There was not much bird music, judged by 
the standards of a temperate climate; but the bulbuls, and 
one or two warblers, sang very sweetly. The naturalists 
