80



S. Porter—A West Indian Diary



On the advice of the curator of the Jamaica Institute I went to

see a certain coloured market gardener who might have birds for sale.

There amidst a collection of ramshackle rabbit hutches, etc., I found

a couple of young birds in a small and most utterly inconvenient

aviary. The brutal way in which the owner attempted to catch the

wretched birds with the aid of hammers, pincers, trowels, etc., so

terrified them that I finally tried my hand at the business and eventually

triumphed, though my clean white suit, shirt, collar and tie were so

bespatted with blood (both mine and the Parrots), that I looked as

though I had been in slaughter house! The birds after this treatment

were simply terrified for weeks at the sight of a human being. Another

bird was purchased in Kingston from the black parson and a real beauty

it was, rather reminding one of a Queen Alexandra Parrakeet in the

combination of soft pastel shades of pinks, blues, and greens. Its

condition was rather remarkable as it was fed entirely on dry bread

and rotten fruit, and kept in a very inadequate Parrot cage with an

iron perch, but I suppose its condition was due to the fact that it was

put under the tap every day to wash out the cage, the bird getting

a good deal of water on its plumage. The more I see of tropical birds

the more I am convinced that a good deal of moisture is necessary

on their plumage to keep it in good order, especially Parrots. I was given

strict instructions that if I wanted to make it talk I was to give it green

peppers to eat. It is a strange thing that all the natives of the West

Indies believe this. I wonder if there is any truth iu it ? It may be

of course that the peppers keep the birds in better condition, and having

more interest in things in general, soon pick up words. However the

birds greatly relished these peppers, which I used to buy from the native

markets. They are so terribly hot that the smallest nibble will so

burn one’s mouth and blister one’s tongue that one loses all sense of

taste for days afterwards and the seeds are like pieces of red hot metal

in the mouth ! and yet the birds eat them with impunity. The bird

purchased from the old black parson at “ Ever Trust in God Cottage ” !

was in better condition than any other Amazon I have seen, it had a

wonderful bloom on its plumage.


One Sunday a friend and I went into the heart of the forest country

near Moneague, where this bird is found, our main quest being the



