84



Dr. M. Amsler—Breeding Failures



first successful breeding in Great Britain was in 1912. Incidentally this

success gave me the greatest thrill of my life and my first Avicultural

Society Medal.


Orange-headed Ground Thrushes for a change were quite satis¬

factory, except that they only had one lot of young—again my own

fault.


In my greed and avarice I put the first clutch of four eggs under a

Grey-bird as it is called here, i.e. a Song Thrush. This bird sat well for

a few hours, then pitched out the eggs and departed. The Thrush,

I believe, is one of the most difficult of birds to deceive in this way.

The much larger Blackbird would probably have accepted the Ground

Thrush’s comparatively small eggs. My Ground Thrushes took a long

time to find a nesting site to their taste, and finally selected a hanging

arrangement which I have to carry the seed pans, water, etc. They did

not build in their own pot of soft food, which was thoughtful on their

part, but took to one containing white millet.


This arrangement was really rather a satisfactory one, as the

nest, hen, and eggs were literally under my eye, and she became

extremely tame and would eat from my hand both when on her eggs

and also when she had young from the second clutch.


Three were reared without any difficulty whatsoever, at first on

mealworms and finally entirely on earthworms. This last-named

luxury is not easily come by in my Kent soil, so I used to secure

consignments from Eton once or twice each week.


British worms must be extra good, for these three young turned

out splendid specimens, quite definitely larger than their parents,

which I believe were wild-bred and imported birds. But many Indian

birds are hand-reared, and this, of course, may account for the fact

that the young were larger than the old cock and hen. I decided that

I had two hens and one cock, while still in the nest, and my surmise

was correct.


Of Parrot Finches the less said the better ; I had five pairs of

three different species, and did not rear one to leave the nest.


When I mention a Shama, I always wish I were a poet and could

write a fitting rhapsody. With the exception of one or two of the

Niltanas there must be few equally beautiful birds in this world, and



