Dr. M. Amsler■—Breeding Failures



85



I am not sure that a good hen, notwithstanding her quiet garb, is not

just as beautiful as the cock. Their natural tameness, which of course

is only cupboard love, is an added charm, but I have other species which

are just as fond of the horny mealworm who persistently refuse to

feed from my hand.


Of the scores of Blue Robins I have owned and bred, only two or

three have been “ finger-tame ”, and many other species who know that

one’s presence means “ creepy-crawlys ” wait until one has gone

next door before coming down for their tit-bits.


All this preamble about Shamas is merely a form of procrastination,

before admitting that they did no good this past season.


I started with a true breeding pair, and in the early summer

Mr. Ezra very kindly gave me a cock and two hens, newly imported.

From them I was able to pick out a pair which had good flights and

were strong on the wing. Within a week they had carried a few straws

into a nesting box, and in ten days from their arrival the first egg was

laid ; there were two more attempts, but as the hen would only put

two or three bits of hay in the nest-box the eggs never hatched.


My old pair took me nearer to success, but here I had another

tragedy. These birds were put into a small aviary to themselves,

a small door for “ enlarging ” the birds being fitted. During the

incubation of the first lot of eggs I gave the cock a fly round for a

short time each day. This was easy, as the hen alone incubates, and

as far as I have been able to judge, is never fed by the cock.


All I had to do was to shut the shelter door before liberating the

cock ; the nest-box being inside the shelter. All went well except

that the cock spent much of his time fighting the other Shama and

the Blue Robins through the aviary wires, but with patience and

mealworms I always contrived to get them home. One night, however,

I could not find him, but made sure he would turn up ‘in the morning.

I was out soon after dawn. We had had sheets of rain during the

night, and there was no sign of my truant bird. All the whistling and

tin-tapping evoked no answer. Moreover, her mate’s long absence had

upset the hen Shama, and she had deserted her eggs.


It was with a heavy heart that I went in to lunch some hours later.

As I approached the house a small dark object caught my eye, and on



