CHAPTER YI. 
THE FLAMINGO 
(Plioenicopterus rosens ). 
“ Evening comes on : arising from the stream, 
Homeward the tall Flamingo wings his flight; 
And where he sails athwart the setting beam, 
His scarlet plumage glows with deeper light.” 
Southey. 
Indelibly, indeed, is the impression stamped on my 
memory of the glorious spectacle I enjoyed—aye, revelled 
in—when I first stood on the shores of the Lake of 
Mensaleh, in Egypt! It was winter, and all the winter 
guests which I remembered to have seen in other 
countries were now before me, and if not embraced at a 
single glance, still little by little they struck the eye of 
the astonished spectator. Hundreds of forms were before 
me, and I could make note of the habits and ways of 
thousands. The enquiring glance was sure to fall on 
something full of interest. The Flamingo, the most 
curious of all the feathered tribe here assembled, soon 
engrossed my entire attention: like a gaily-clad army 
corps, a wondrous, flame-coloured line spread itself out 
before the spectator, glorious in its brilliancy; the sun¬ 
light played on the dazzling white and rosy red plumage 
of these birds, blending it into one gleam of living 
light. Thousands upon thousands of Flamingos were to 
