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Pigeons

BY

ROSIE ALDERSON

WITH 100 ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
; AND DRAWINGS.

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“THE FEATHERED WORLD”
“CANARY AND CAGE-BIRD LIFE”

9, ARUNDEL STREET, STRAND, LONDON, W.C.

To
MY DHAR MOTHEE,
Who, loving Nature herself,
Has taught me from a child
to love it too ;
And also
To all the many kind friends
My bwds have brought me
All over the world,
Without whose very generous help
This little book

Might never have been written.

I especially owe my very grateful thanks
to
T. H. Newman, Esq., F.Z.8., M.B.O.U.
H. Wiuurorp, Esq.
A. G. Burter, Hsq., Ph. D., F.L.8., F.Z.S., M.B.O.U.
D. Serx-Smiru, Hsq., F.Z.5., M.B.O.U.
W. HE. TescHemaxrer, Hsq., B.A.
H. HE. Avrewetu, Esq.

Rosie ALDERSON,
Park House, Worksop,
; Notts.
March, 1911.

CONTENTS.

CuHaPtTer J.

General Management, Housing, Feeding, &c. =1 foe = = =

Cuapter IT.

Nesting = = = = = = = 5 sorely aie 2 B 3

Cuapter III.

Packing and Sending Away, and Nursing in Sickness and Accident -

Carter IV.
Sub-Family Treronidae.

Vinago delalandei - = = - © = Sere eS 2
Typical Pigeons - - = = 3 = = Enea ees 2 3 x

Columbidae.
The Triangular Spotted Pigeon (Columba guinea) - - = 2 - 3
» Spotted or Spot-winged Pigeon (Columba maculosa) - - = -
,,. White-crowned Pigeon (Columba leucocephala) - - - = = =

,, Rufous Pigeon (Columba rufina) - = Be eb = 2 e

CHAPTER V.
Family Peristeridae - -
The Martinican (or Aurita) Dove (Zenaida aurita) - - - S = x

., White-winged Zenaida Dove (Melopelia leucoptera) = c = =

,, Madagascar Turtle Dove (Turtur picturatus) - - = = = ae

., English Turtle Dove (Turtur turtur) - = al eee = g

,, Barbary Turtle Dove (Turtur risorius) - ah eee deers = 2 z
Half-collared Turtle (Turtur semitorquatus) ae toy tS 5 is =

,, Deceptive Turtle Dove (Turtur decipiens) - pans Ss = = z
Damara Turtle Dove (Turtur damarensis) - re iS < = = 2

.. Dwarf (or Ruddy) Turtle Dove (Turtur humilis) - - - -— -

- Necklaced Dove (Turtur tigrinus) = = Sas z = = 3

Senegal Turtle Dove (Turtury senegalensis) =i) f= = - = =

CuarTer VI.
Ground Doves = 2 “
The Bar-shouldered Dove (Geopelia humeralis) Sree ite = 2 i
,, Peaceful Dove (Geopelia tranquilla) - = = ise 2 5 ss
Zebra Dove (Geopelia striata) - = = bere eanees = = 3

,, Diamond Dove (Geopelia cuneata) - - =) eee ae 2 = 2

PAGE

24

25)

CONTENTS .— continued.

The Scaly Dove (Scardafella squamosa) - - a we = = = = z 2 2 =) (6
,, Picui Dove (Columbula picui) - = = = = Es = BO fe = FS =) 60
», Passerine Dove (Chamaepelia passerina) - Bei ree a 2 = E = é : P - 62
», TLalpacoti (or Cinnamon) Dove (Chamaepelia talpacoti) - = = = = = = = Syl

CuHaptTer VII.

The Bronze-winged Doves and Pigeons.

ites @anel(on Harlequin) Dove (Aena capensis) = = 2 =) = = = =] 9] = = 65
», Tambourine Dove (Tympanistria tympanistria) = 6 = - - - - - - - 66
,, Indian Green-winged Dove (Chalcophaps Indica) a - - - - = - - - 68
», Bronze-wing Pigeon (Phaps chalcoptera) - Seats eos - - - - - - - 69
PEE Siishmbronzewincbiceon) (Rhaps elegans) “= 92 = =) =) = = =e ear
,, Partridge Bronze-wing (Geophaps scripta) eo een oe ie a RS GA

Cuapter VIII.

Crested Dove and Pigeon - fe a ee
The Plumed Ground Dove (Lophophaps leucogaster) - - - - = = = = = = FR
ReeoUcialicommeresteds Dove (Ocyphaps lophotes) = = =) =) =) =) o= a ee nen

CHAPTER IX.

Sub-family Geotrygoninae = Z z % 2 ES - 48

The Rufous Dove (Leptoptila reichenbachi) - = = = = = 2 # = 2 2 = 38
», Solitary Ground Dove (Leptoptila chloroauchenia - - - - = - = = =) =80

», Wiolet (or White-fronted) Dove (Leptoptila Jamai-ensis) = = = = = 2 = = 2

Wells’ Dove (Leptoptila wellsi) - > = = at Ne = = = - = « z ae ea
The Partridge (or Red Mountain) Dove (Geotrygon montana) = = = - . = < = 8%
» Bleeding Heart Pigeon (Phlogoenas luzonica) - - - - =) eo tay ie) eae ae 86

», Wonga Wonga Pigeon (Leucosarcia picata) SA ee = = = 6 ‘ = “ & - 90

», Black-bearded Dove (Starnoenas cyanocephala) ra f= y= = 2 S = é = 6A

», Lhe Francisian Dove - c= = = Sip Oy : 5 = = E E ; = - 94

,» Malayan Ring Dove - & = a eS = a = 5 iB 2 ~ = E 25 = of

I owe my very grateful thanks to The Avicultural Society and The Foreign Bird Club for the loan of blocks,
with permission to use them, and to the following gentlemen for their very kind help of photographs to illustrate
the book, viz. :—HMessrs. H. Willford, D. Seth-Smith, F.Z.S., M.BO. U., and T. H. Newman, F.Z.S., M.B.0.U.,
W. #. Teschemaker, B.A., and Dr. C. Gouldesbrough.

In all instances where no name rs given the photographs were taken by myself, chiefly from my own birds.
I have also to thank Mr. Thorpe for kindly allowing me to take the photographs of Crested, White-winged and
Aurita Doves from birds in his aviaries at Worksop.

ROSIE ALDERSON.

The Turtle Dove é s 2 iS

OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Frontispiece

PAGE
Young Violet Dove - - - - - - 9
No. 1 Aviary Ground Plan - - - - 10
1.—Aviary No. 1. 2.—Interier of Aviary No. 3
(as first put up, before let-out cages, etc.,
were added) - - = - - - II
No. 2 Aviary - = 2 - = - - 12
No. 2 Aviary (with shutters down) - - - 13
No. 3 Aviary (Front View) - - - - 15
No. 3 Aviary (Back View) - - - - 17
No. 3 Aviary (Plan) - = - = - 19
No. 4 Aviary (Plan) - = - = - 21
Black-Bearded Doves - - - - - 22
Dwarf Turtle and Brush Bronze-wing - - 22
Crested Senegal and White-winged Doves - 23
Plumed Ground Dove - - - - - 24
Crested Dove - - - - - - - 24
Passerine Dove - - - - - - - 31
Violet Doves - - - - - - - 31
Dwarf Turtle Dove - - - = - - 32
No. 4 Aviary - - - - - - - 36
White-crowned Pigeon - - - - - 38
1 and 2.—Spotted Pigeon. 3.—Spotted Pigeon
and Brush Bronze-wing Pigeon. 4.—
Rufous Pigeon and Bleeding MHeart
Pigeon. 5 and 6.—White - crowned
Pigeon. 7.—White-crowned and Crested
Pigeons and Senegal Dove - = 31
I, 2, 3.—Aurita Doves. 4.—English Turtle
Dove. 5, 6.—Barbary Doves. 7.—Bar-
, barys and English Turtle Dove. 8, 9.—
White-winged Doves - - - - 43
1.—_Senegal Doves. 2.—Senegal Dove Sitting.
3-—Senegal, White-winged Doves, and
Crested Pigeon. 4 and 7.—Ruddy (or
Dwarf Turtles). 5.—Hybrid Dove (Neck-
lace and Senegal). 6.—Necklaced Doves
and Indian Green-winged Dove. 8.—
Madagascar Turtle Doves - - - 47
Dwarf or Ruddy Turtle - - - - - 53

1, 2, and 3.—Diamond Doves.

4.—Picui and
Plumed Ground Dove. 5.—Picui Dove.
6.—Passerine Dove - = = =

| Finis - - -

1, 2.—Hen Bronze-wing Pigeon. 3.—Cock
Bronze-wing Pigeon. 4, 5, 6.—Part-
ridge Bronze-wings. 7.—Cock Brush
Bronze-wing. 8.—Cock Brush Bronze-
wing and Bleeding Heart Pigeon. 9.—
Cock Brush Bronze-wing and Ruddy (or
Dwarf) Turtle Dove. 10.—Cock Solitary
Ground Dove. 11.—Cock Solitary
Ground Dove and Ruddy Turtle Doves.
12.—Hen Indian Green-winged Dove.
13-—Cock Indian Green-winged Dove
and Barbary Dove - - - -

The Bronze-winged Pigeon - - =

Brush Bronze-wing Pigeon and Nest. 1.—
Female on Nest, Male perched near.
2._Nestling 16 days old. 3.—Male
Covering Nestlings - - - -

Partridge Bronze-wing Pigeon - - -

Australian Crested Pigeon - - - -

1, 2.—Australian Crested Pigeon (Adult and
Young Bird). 3.—Crested, Senegal,
White-winged, and Turtle Doves. 4,
5-—Rufous Dove (Cock). 6.—Red
Mountain Dove. 7.—Red Mountain and
Black-bearded Dove. 8.—Crested and
Senegal Doves. 9, 10.—Plumed Ground
Doves. 11.—Violet Doves - -

Violet or White-fronted Dove. 1.—Young

Cock. 2.—Young Birds just left the
Nest. 3.—Old Cock, Hen, and Young
Cock = = = = t e wy

Young Bleeding Heart Doves - - ~ S
I, 2, 3.—Young Bronze-wing Pigeons. 4.—
Young Brush Bronze-wing Pigeon.
5.-—Young Rufous Doves. 6.—Young
Senegal Doves. 7, 8.—Young Damara
Turtle Doves - - - - - -
1.—Bleeding Heart Pigeon and Rufous Pigeon.
2.—Bleeding Heart Pigeon. 3.—Bleed-
ing Heart Pigeon and Black-bearded
Doves. 4.—Black-bearded Doves. 5.—
Plumed Ground Doves. 6.—Francisian
Dove. 7.—Wonga-Wonga Pigeon -
Dwarf Ground Dove - - - - is

PAGE

81

89

gI
93
95

My Foreign Doves and Pigeons.

CHAPTER I.

Tuis little book must
not be considered in any
other light than that of a
simple hand-book, treating
only of those doves and
pigeons I have actually
kept. Most of these birds
are within the reach of
any amateur, and can be
procured in England (if
you watch your oppor-
turity), at a seasonable
time and a reasonable price. In many instances
the birds described have bred in English Aviaries,
and nearly all are hardy.

I have not attempted to give any scientific
déscription, but just to recount the ordinary daily
life of my own birds, and, where I could gather it,
the experience of others, and also some short notes
on the wild life of the birds.

Doves as a family have much to recommend
them. They are hardy, long-lived, and show their
contentment in captivity by frequently nesting and
rearing their young. If their colouring is quiet,
it is also singularly harmonious, and the blending
of the different shades is as refined as it is beauti-
ful. Where could you find anything more lovely
than a cock Wiolet dove in perfect health and
plumage? He is an object to feast one’s eyes on
for long—and yet to look again.

Then another interesting feature about doves
is to study their different calls, for each bird has
several—to be able to distinguish between the war-
ery note and the soft coo of the cock, telling the
hen his little love story. They can express their
moods as surely as a human being, and to interpret
this is a study in itself.

It is nearly 13 years ago since I started keeping
doves, beginning, as I suppose was only natural,
with our old friends a pair of Barbary doves. At
this time dove keeping was a singularly lonely
hobby—many people kept foreign birds, but not
doves. Most of my experience was learned in the
sad school of adversity, for little was written (that

Youne Vioier Dove.

was accessible to me) on the subject. I had Dr. |
Greene’s ‘“‘Notes on Cage Birds” and Dixon’s old
“Dove Cote and Aviary,’’ but that was about all.
A year or two before, however, I had read in The

- Feathered World an article by the late Mr. O. E.

Cresswell on his foreign doves. How I longed to
possess all the kinds he described, never for one
moment thinking I should leep in the future nearly
every one of these, and many more besides.

And here let me pause just a minute to note a
very pleasant side of bird keeping—I mean the
many friends your birds will make for you—and
in one and all there is the same trait, a kindly and
generous fellow feeling in a mutual hobby. A.
chance question, and reply, on a little Turtle dove
was the beginning of a long and valued friend-
ship with Mr. and Miss Cresswell, and when he
died I felt as if I had lost my earliest dove-loving
friend, for of all his beautiful birds his doves, I
thinlx, were his favourites.

First, before I describe the birds, I must begin
and tell you a little of how, and where, I keep my
doves, so I will start with a short description of may
aviaries. They are all different types.

No. 1 is my original doves’ aviary. It is alba
19 ft. long by 12 ft. wide. The north and east
sides are built against high walls; on the west
the half-inch wire netting comes right down to
the ground, but on the south it is boarded up for
two feet. On this last side is a porch with double
doors, the outer one of wood, the inner one of
wire. A great drawback to this aviary is the lack
of sunshine, owing to the fact that so many trees
are growing round it, but at the time I used it for
doves (it is now the home of a Crowned Crane)
this did not seem to affect their health in any way.
A shelter, with a door into the flight, runs across
the eastern end. It has wire in front to within
two feet of the ground and a small wire-covered
window faces the south. The shelter is white-
washed inside.

When fitst this aviary was put up, the floor of
the flight was earth, the top of it wire-netting.
Rats began to make their appearance, so the flight

10 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

floor was cemented and tiled over, and, to keep the
place dryer, a glass pointed roof was substituted
for the wire netting one. This made the aviary
look much nicer; of course the glass roof had to
be lined (a few inches from the glass) with a kind
of very strong muslin, known at the drapers as
“strainering.”’ This was a precaution to prevent
the doves dashing against the glass if they flew
upwards.

No. 2 aviary was built a little later than the first
one. It has no flight, but is just a house built
against a high brick wall and facing due south.
It is lower down the garden and stands in a sunny

East
WALL

SHELTER

WINDOW WooodEN Eno

Doortray

Y14+ON

aATw AA

Wood @ WiRE
South

FP Liatitr

DooR
Foy

Woop ¢ WIRE

L

WIRE
wesf
Aviary GRouNd PLAN

FRONT

Neal

old-fashioned orchard, and the outer part of the
aviary front, that is not wire, is covered with
climbing roses and ivy.

This aviary is composed of two thicknesses of
wood with felt between, and the span roof is of
corrugated iron lined with wood. The whole of
the inside is varnished, except the brick wall that
forms the back, which is white-washed. The
dimensions are 16 ft. long by 9% ft. wide and 133
ft. high at the highest point in the roof. The front
of the aviary is wired to within 2 ft. of the ground,
and along the whole length ten glass-panelled

moveable shutters are fastened by means of bars
and screws. In summer weather the shutters are
removed altogether, but in very cold weather they
are all kept up (forming a large window 16 ft. long
by 53 ft. high). These shutters can be fixed or
removed in a few minutes, and are all independent
of each other, so that one or more can be taken
down without interfering with the rest.

The inside is divided by a wire partition (boarded
up a short distance from the floor) into two parts,
one being rather larger than the other. In the
end of each is a wire-covered opening window,
and in the roof of each a glass skylight, also made
to open and covered with wire. The skylights are
regulated with cords and pulleys, and are left open
slightly at night all through the year. Each of
the two portions of the aviary is entered at each
end by a porch and double doors, so that there is
no fear of the birds escaping on anyone going
inside. I consider a double door is a necessity to
every aviary, for without it accidents are bound to
happen. A shelf, for seed tins, etc., is in each
porch, over the door, and this is handy, as it forms
a little store place for food without having to keep
it away from the aviary: In the centre of each
floor is a small cement basin with continual
running water, which can be turned up or down
at will.

This aviary is heated with hot water pipes. The
feed-tank (with a cover on) is at one end of the
pipes, and now and then wants replenishing with
water. There is an escape pipe from it in case
the water should boil over. This pipe is fixed in
the tank and through the aviary end, so that the
water can never rise above a certain height, the
escape pipe drawing off all the overflow into a
cement gutter that runs round three sides of the
aviary. This gutter has two grates and a pipe
leading into a dumb well, and the overflow from
the fountain (in the centre of each half of the
aviary) runs into the dumb well also.

A dumb well is simply a deep hole dug into the
ground, the earth being cleared out and its place
filled with half-bricks and rubble, put in anyhow,
so that there are spaces left amongst them for the
water to run through and to drain away. Of
course, the level of your rubble must be below the
level of the waste pipe flowing into it.

It is a good plan to cover the top of your dumb
well with a large flag-stone just a few inches
below the ground, then put earth or grass on the
top of this so as to make it look like its surround-
ings. The flag-stone has several advantages. In
the first place it keeps the ground from sinking in
over the well, then, again, it prevents dirt silting
into the well, and helping to choke it, and also
should anything ever happen to interfere with the

o PLATE
~Y

1.—Aviary No. 1.
2.—INTERIOR OF Aviary NO. 3 (AS FIRST PUT UP, BEFORE LET-OUT CAGES, ETC., WERE ADDED).
Photographs by Dr. C. Gouldesborough.

YJ4AOK)

ITAA mole g

12

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

working of the well, such as the pipes getting
stopped up, it is so much easier to open it out if a
stone covers the top.

In my own case the soil is very sandy and the
water drains quickly, and so a dumb well answers
admirably, but I do not know how it might
answer where the soil was clay and heavy. It is
very seldom on a light soil that a dumb well has
to be opened, so it is neither an eyesore nor an
inconvenience.

DSoR
Easl.
Winpow above CACE
—_——

Overflow
Pipe 1
his also

LNOXS

Sy Ja/PArjop

Pipe

Holwafler

SsSHY7)5
CHIVAS

Oivisiom Wood + MRE

Iq AajPMlOW
SYALLIHS

adi APIIEM joy

<

Os6erzer under FLOoR
OcoR

STOKE EC UTE CAGE PorcH
Hole
WinBow above CAGE Sorsir
Wesf
Ne 2 TAR Ss?

Be sure and have your pipes leading into it large
enough; mine, in this aviary I am describing,
were laid too small. The water from the fountains
does not run fast enough to flush them, and now
and then they get choked with sand and husks
from the aviary floor and have to be cleaned out.
I daresay if the water were turned on at its full
pressure the pipes would keep all right, but as we
use the town water, and pay for every gallon in
the garden that is consumed, the too liberal use of
it is a consideration.

The boiler in this aviary is under one corner of
the floor in the larger half. It has had to be re—
newed once in ten years, possibly the boiler might
have lasted longer, but it was cracked and leaked,
and in consequence of this the water supply tank
had to be more frequently filled up, and the result
was a poor supply of heat. It seemed therefore
the cheapest economy to have a new boiler
altogether. The heat from it not only well warms.
the pipes, but heats the tiled floor directly above it,
and I find the delicate birds have soon found this
out, and in the winter time sit on this part of the
floor to warm themselves.

The little stoke-hole that supplies the fire for
the boiler is outside at one end of the aviary, and
is sunk below the aviary level some three or four
steps, a pent roof of galvanised iron keeps the rain
from the outside of the grate. The fire (if stoked
properly) after being mended late in the afternoon
should last all night and well into the next
morning.

Both for this aviary, and another one I will
describe later, I burn a small coke (about the size
of a large walnut). It is very smolxeless and gives.
a great heat, but at the same time it is expensive.
However, as we have neighbours’ gardens on each
side of us it is almost a necessity to have a smoke-
less fuel, as on no account would I wish my birds.
to be an annoyance to anyone.

When I first put up this aviary I had the floor
sodded. It looked very pretty, and the birds loved
the grass, but I soon found it unpractical, for it
was impossible to keep it clean and wholesome, so
I substituted grey tiles, and thése are much more
sanitary. They aré well sprinkled with red sand,
and this does not seem to harm the birds in any
way, though I have heard it is not good for them..
No doubt river sand would be better, but this would
considerably add to my many expenses, which
already are quite sufficient.

The hot water pipes were put in this aviary some-
time after it had been built. The first year I
heated it with an oil stove in one of the porches.
All went well for somie time, but one night the-
lamp went wrong, and next morning—(New Year’s.
Day, of all days in the year)—I found half my
birds dead on the floor. The inside of the aviary
was covered with black soot, and the surviving
birds a pitiful sight, dirty and terrified. Anyone
who has gone through an experience like this will
understand how disheartened I felt. I would
almost have been thankful to anyone who would
have talen the aviary and birds out of my sight
for ever.

Many of the victims were old favourites I had
had for years, and it was sad work collecting the
little still bodies, so full of life only a few hours.

eg

(Pes 2.
woe ,

No. 2 Aviary (WIfTH SHUTTERS DOWN).
Photographs by Dr, C. Gouldesborough.

14

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

before. But to sit down and do nothing but cry
would only have made matters worse, so although

it was Sunday I set to and cleaned the aviary —

down, and I am sure felt better for it, for in all
troubles work of some kind is a splendid helper,
even though it may be done with faltering steps
and eyes that can hardly see for tears.

The lamp was banished, though I expect the
accident was due to my own mismanagement, still
I wanted to be on the safe side, and for the
remainder of that winter and the next I had no
artificial heat. But these winters were mild, and
I could not expect this every year, so in the autumn
of 1899 I had a boiler and pipes put in.

I feared at first that the birds might sit on the
pipes and weaken their legs, so I had some wire
guards made to fit over them, but I removed the
guards, for I found it very difficult to keep them
clean, and, further, if a tiny bird got underneath
them (and it was impossible to make them fit
quite closely at the bends) it would probably graze
its forehead in its frightened attempt to get out
again.

I have an arrangement for seed pots in this
aviary that is rather handy. A long shelf of wood
is fixed, with iron brackets, to the aviary wall,
about a foot from the ground. In this shelf, at
intervals, are cut large circular holes, and the food
pots rest in these holes, and are so on a level with
the shelf. Of course, the pots must not be straight
all the way up or they would fall through. The
hole must be cut a little smaller than the circumfer-
ence of the rim of the pot. Soup plates at 23d.
each in plain white look nice, or the ordinary red
flower-pot saucers would do. My own pots were
made purposely and are much like a soup plate,
but deeper, and with a flanged edge inside to keep
the seed from being wasted.

There are just two other points to notice about
this aviary before I pass on to the next. One is
the advisability of having the floor to slope a little
at one corner, and a very small mesh wire grating
inserted in the aviary wall, so that when the floor
is well swilled out now and then, the water has a
means of escaping. The other point is the useful-

‘ness of let-out cages in the aviary walls. It is
true it makes the shape of the exterior somewhat
irregular, but it is of very great value to have one
or two good cages getting the heat, and yet not
taking up any of the floor-room. When first I
put up this aviary it had no let-out cages, but a
large cage used to hang inside (against the brick
wall at the back) in the larger half. It was a
cage after the box pattern, that is wired only in
front, the other three sides being of wood, and
though very handy yet it seemed to take up much
space that could ill be spared. Then the thought

struck me, why not cut a piece out of the aviary
end and insert this cage, so that though it will
not be in the way (the cage projecting outside the
aviary) yet it will still seem to be part of the build.
ing and will get the warmth.

I found the plan answer so well that besides.
this cage I had two others let out in the aviary
ends, so now I have three very large cages in this.
aviary, besides the aviary itself. They are a
portion of it, but in no sense in the way, or taking
up floor room; each cage can be divided at ii
into two, so that I really can make six altogether.

I find them so useful, and they are always more or %

less occupied, either for breeding purposes, or
supposing you find two birds have fought, it is so-
easy just to separate them by putting one or other
into a cage close at hand.

Again, I had a pair of Barraband parralxeets»
loose in the larger half of the aviary, and the hen
turned fierce and murdered a little hen picui dove,.
so feeling it was unsafe to have her at large I put
her into one of these large cages, and a perch
being arranged to come right up to its wire front,
the cock (who was devotedly attached to his mate),
could come and sit close by her cage and tall: to
her through the wires. He passed nearly all his.
time in this way, and thus the poor bird, whom of
necessity we had to imprison, had a happier time
than she would have had if I had had no let-out
cage to put her in, for it was very large and she
really had a fair amount of liberty without being
able to do any hurt to the other birds.

A little sliding door in the division between the
two halves of the aviary is very useful in passing
birds from one part to the other, as it saves the
trouble of carrying a caught bird round through
the doors.

From this brief description I think you will be
able to picture a little what this aviary is like.
It cost a good deal to build, and here let me give
a word of advice to would-be builders of aviaries.
In the first place make up your mind at the very
first what you really want, plan out carefully and
clearly in your mind (and also on paper) every
detail and measurement of your proposed structure.
I failed to do this properly, though it is true I
planned my aviary out roughly, but I kept think-
ing of fresh improvements during the building
when I ought to have settled everything before-
hand, and this adding on, and adding on, of
alterations is very disastrous to one’s pocket,
though perhaps they may be put down as costing
little or nothing at the time.

So I would say, think out every detail, explain
all to your builder, get an estimate from him and
then you know where you are, and have some idea
of what it will all cost you. And having got your

*

‘(MAIA INOwa) AUVIAW £ ‘oN

“Uyqua “lyr fq ydvadojoyg

. Ss

16 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

men started, be your own Clerk of the Works, be
constantly about to see they are carrying out your
directions in your way, and think nothing of
climbing up ladders to inspect those portions not
seen from below. If you fail to do this you must
not be surprised at all sorts of drawbacks cropping
up. For instance, in both the aviaries I have
already described the gutter along the back is far
too narrow. In the one aviary there is a risk of
smashing the glass roof when the gutter is
cleaned, because, between the wall and glass roof,
the gutter is not wide enough to allow a man to
tread along it easily, and in the other aviary (the
last I have described) the gutter was so narrow
that in a heavy storm it could not tale the water
fast enough, with the result it overflowed and came
through the back of the aviary, running down the
wall and making the tiled sanded floor most un-
pleasant. This I have since had remedied.

When [| built the aviary I am now going to tell
you of I was wiser, I had bought my experience
dearly, so I thought and planned out how I should
like it, and then had the builder, Mr. Walker, of
Sheffield, over to see me, and had a talk with him
and gathered an estimate as to what it would cost.
Mr. Wallxer (who is a wood and iron structure
builder on a large scale) was very interested in my
building and made some excellent suggestions as
to ventilation, etc. The aviary was built at
Sheffield in sections and just put together with
bolts and screws on arriving here.

This (No. 3) aviary is a long way my favourite
of them all. It was put up in the spring of 1901,
and was at first intended for parrakeets. The
best site I could find in our old orchard was 32 ft.
x 22 ft., the longest side facing south. It is a
pretty situation, with a tiny artificial streamlet
running in front where many water-lilies and iris
grow. Overshadowing the eastern end is a
Picturesque old spreading apple-tree with a seat
running round its trunk.

From my width of 22 ft. I cut off 6 ft. (on the
north side) to form a passage running along the
whole length of the aviary, and from each end of
this I took off 63 ft. That at the eastern end
forms the entrance to the aviary and is fitted with
shelves, etc., into a little store-room, while that at
the western end forms a small extra division for
birds. The centre part of the passage contains
the stove for heating the place, and is invaluable
in many ways that I will mention later.

This left me with a piece of ground 32 ft. x
16 ft., and this I divided into 5 divisions, each 16
ft. long by 63 ft. wide (the centre one is just a trifle
smaller than the others). Each of these compart-
ments forms a separate aviary to itself, and is
‘divided into three parts, namely, a shelter, glass-

roofed portion and open flight. The three centre
compartments are entered by separate doors from
the passage, the two outer ones by doors from the
seed room, and from the little extra aviary at the
western end.

In this way there is no fear of the birds
escaping, and also one need not pass through all
the aviaries to reach any special one, each having
its own entrance. This is especially useful in the
case of nesting birds, which must not be disturbed.

The little seed, or store, room is fitted with
shelves for numerous articles, and a curtain of
washing print hangs in front. There is also kept
here a galvanised seed bin with five divisions. The
centre one is very much the largest and holds two
bushels of dove mixture (wheat, dari, hemp, and
a little rice), the other divisions hold a bushel each
of Italian millet, Indian millet, hemp, and canary.
The brushes, water-can for filling the baths, etc.,
dust-pan and other articles for daily use are hung
on nails on the walls, and behind the door is a
rail for the aviary cloths, where they hang to dry.
There is a window at one end, and directly under-
neath it a good-sized wooden shelf that makes a
capital table, and screwed to one end of this is an
“Wnterprise’” cutter (Spratt’s) that has been used
for years, and is as good as when I bought it. I
find it most useful-for grinding biscuit and egg-
shells, and the size of the pieces may be regulated
by means of a screw. There is nothing about it
to get out of order, and where there is much
grinding of food stuffs to do a machine of this kind
is almost a necessity.

The passage is lighted by two windows, and
between these stands the stove, the pipe of which
goes through the roof. The stove is an ordinary
closed one and has a little door at the bottom for
raking out the ashes and another small door in the
front top for poking the fire. But I find if the
fire is poked through this door there is danger of
cracking the fire brick lining (as the poker is
obliged to be held slanting), so I had a lift-up door
made in the flat top of the stove, and through this
the fire can be stoked or poked in safety.

I burn the same coke in this as in my other
aviary, and now and then in a close stove like this
one the coke is given to ‘‘cake’’ and stick in a
hard mass to the fire brick inside. If this were
not regularly chipped off it would in time block up
the interior of the stove, but it needs doing care-
fully so that the fire brick is not injured with the
poker, and cracked or chipped. 3

I find this stove very useful in times of sickness,
for a bird may be placed near it at night and be
kept warm till morning, or sometimes in a case of
collapse hot pieces of flannel are needed, and
while the little invalid is wrapped in one piece

UNguit “ATT hq Ydvasojoy gy

“(AGIA MOVa) ANVIAW £ ‘ON

18 1

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

another can be heating on the stove, and so a
continual supply of warmth be kept up. Another
advantage is that the heat keeps my food stuffs dry
and wholesome, for a wooden building is not the
best of keeping places in winter, and as I also
keep my dogs’ food in sacks in the aviary passage
it is very important it is free from damp.

There are shelves covered with a curtain in the
passage as well as in the seed room; and a broad
shelf high up right across one end. All spare
perches, cloths, heather for nesting, nesting tins,
etc., are kept on these, and hooks are screwed into
the roof for spare cages to hang from. A writing-
desk, fixed on an iron bracket stands under one
window, and here I keep my collection of feathers
and the medals my birds have won for me at
different times, also the large printed labels for
putting on the boxes of birds going away. There
are so many things one needs in an aviary, and, if
possible, each should have its own particular place
where it can always be found.

When first I built this aviary, with the exception
of one let-out cage, all cages in the passage had
to stand on the floor or hang from the roof, and I
soon found this very inconvenient, so I adopted the
same plan as | had done in No. 2 aviary, and let out
some more cages in the walls. On the north side
my little flying squirrels have three large cages
opening into each other by sliding doors, that can
be worked from the outside. Below one of these
again is a spare cage, and underneath another is a
large cupboard I use for storing sand. At the
western end of the passage is another cage (let out
into the little aviary at the end) where lives my
white Chipping squirrel, “‘Anthony,’’ and on the
other side of the passage are two more very large
cages (let out into the shelters of Divisions 2 and
3), below these two last are store places—as I did
not care to bring the cages right down to the floor
—each large enough to hold several sacks of food.

In one I keep my dogs’ biscuits, in the other
bags of acorns, beech and other nuts for the
squirrels. Besides my American Flying squirrels
and the Chipping squirrel I have two Tasmanian
phalangers, or Sugar Squirrels, and most of these
' live in the passage cages. The fronts of all the
cages (but one) face the passage, and look rather
nice, besides, as most of them have glass (wired)
windows let into them, they make the passage
much lighter than it would otherwise be without
them.

The five Joors opening into the front divisions
are all of wood and wire, three open into the
passage, and those at the extreme ends into the
seed room and little extra aviary. As I have
already told you the first portion of these divisions
consists of a shelter; these shelters are a good

height, for they come under the centre of the roof,
and here the aviary is rr ft. high, whereas it slopes
down to 63 ft. at the ridge. The shelters have
each a window. In the three centre ones this
window is in the front part, in the two outer ones
at the ends. The shelters have wood and wire
doors leading into the flights, and fitting on to the
wire centre of each door is a moveable wooden
shutter, these come in very useful for a purpose I
will tell you of later.

These doors are open, being latched back to the
walls, and are very seldom closed. Below the
window in each of the three centre divisions are
pigeon-hole openings with a shelf on each side of
them; on the inner side this shelf hinges up,
forming a door in front of the pigeon-hole, and
completely closing it when not required. In the
two end divisions the pigeon-hole is not under the
window, but is placed in the front looking out on
to the flight.

The chief use of these pigeon-holes was intended
to be that in winter the doors between the flights
and shelters would be shut (making the latter
portion very warm), and yet the birds could still
pass in and out at will. I have found, however,
that the birds care little for the shelters and often
choose to roost outside, so the connecting doors
between flight and shelter are lxept open all the
year round.

We now come to the flights. The first portion
is under a sloping glass roof, lined with wire
netting for fear the glass might be broken at any
time and the birds escape. This glass roof is
rather over 5 ft. wide and is made of ground
glass. In spite of this I found that in summer it
got so hot that I was obliged to stretch an awning
over it (as will be seen in the photograph) on the
outside, for the birds seemed to find the heat
very oppressive, especially when a nest was built
directly under the glass. In the winter I move
this canvas down from the glass roof on to the
open wire roof, that forms the rest of the flight, for
it keeps out much of the snow and rain and helps
to keep the birds warm in the very cold weather.
Wherever this canvas is, either on the glass roof
or the flat wired top, it is always stretched tight
and nailed well down to the woodwork.

The part of the flights that is just open wood
and wire is the last portion of each division to
describe. The wire netting all through is half-
inch. The front of the aviary (as shown in the
picture) is wire to within 13 feet from the ground.
At the ends the woodwork is brought one foot.
higher. I used to have these ends open, but now
they are boarded up in the portion by the glass
roof, and covered with canvas in the part by the
flights. The divisions between the aviary com-

Fas /.

AVIARIES. 19

partments are of wire to within 2% ft. boarded from
the ground.

The roof of the aviary is of corrugated iron lined
with wood—metal alone would be too hot—and is
fitted with spouting back and front. The back

spout is of metal, the front, running the whole
length just below the glass roof, is of wood, with
metal pipes at each end to bring the water to the
ground.

South (Frant)

flights are fixed brown earthenware glazed baths
(such as are used in cottages for sinks), 24 inches
x 16 inches and 3 inches deep. I found it would
have been better if I could have got them shallower
—though they are only half filled with water
—but even 3 inches is a deep step to a bird whose
wings are heavy and useless with water.

To remedy this I cemented some small steps,
made of common grey tiles, in each bath, and the

PORT/IOM

Windor

fF ke Sy Re

(PASSAGE

Stove
Frent)

LET-OvT
CAGE

(Front)

Along the whole length of the inside of the front,
by the wooden rail half way up, is a broad shelf,
and this the birds love to walk up and down on,
or to lie in the sun, basking with outstretched
wings.

The floor in the passage, shelters, and under the
glass-roofed part of the flights is thickly cemented.
The open part of the flights was at first grassed
(with wire Jaid underneath), but I found it impos-
sible to keep the grass clean, so now I have fine
sifted ashes beaten down on to the ground instead,
and under each perch in this open part is put a
large flat slate. These slates are easily lifted up,
washed, and replaced—and so the aviary is kept
sweet and clean. In the centre of each of the open

Fronts

LET-OuT
CAGE

Yrorth (back)

SPARE
Wes/

Dirisieor (rire)

N= By
AVIARY

birds soon learnt to use them without fear. These
baths are brushed out and partially filled with
water every day; they are fitted with a plug and
a waste pipe running the whole length of the
aviary, which carries off the dirty water into a
dumb well. The passage and small aviary are
also each fitted with a bath and waste pipe.

The outside of the aviary is painted dark green,
with the windows, etc., a very pale shade of the
same colour, the inside (partly paint and partly
white-wash) is cream, faced with the same pale
green, a combination which is very cool and clean-
looking. The windows, at the suggestion of the
builder, Mr. Walker, are made in the same way
as in hunters’ stables, the top sash pulling forward

20 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

so that there is no down draught. The part that
opens is protected with wire to prevent any. bird
escaping ; of course, this applies only to the owtside
windows, those between the shelters and flights
need no wire guard.

I fear this uccount is perhaps a too detailed one,
but I have mentioned the particulars fully in the
hope they may contain some useful hints to anyone
who is thinking of building an aviary. And now
as tothe cost. I got three estimates from different
firms, and decided on giving the order to Mr.
Walker, of Meersbroolk Bank Works, Sheffield. He
had done work for me before and it had worn well.
Mr. Wallxer came over from Sheffield, and we
‘talked things over, and I found him most obliging
and ready with suggestions, telling me clearly the
advantages, or the reverse, of each point under
discussion. He strongly advocated a wooden
lining to the roof, and I am very glad I did not
follow my first idea, which was to have it of metal
only. The estimate for the actual framework was
446 5s. od., but there were several improvements
added to the original plan, and this sum did not
include the cost of painting, brick foundations,
levelling and cement floor, and the waste pipes and
bath arrangements, all of which latter items were
done by local worlmen.

The aviary was made in large sections at
Sheffield, and took only a few days to erect, the
rough cement floor, brick foundations, baths,
pipes, etc., being put down first. After the aviary
was put up the final smooth layer of cement was
added, and also a narrow border of cement was put
round the inside edge of the open flights as a pre-
caution against vermin, wire also being laid under-
neath this portion. The brick foundation the
aviary was built on was a loose one, but owing to
the unevenness of the ground the western end had
to be raised to a higher level to malkxe the building
straight.

The principal items in the cost of the aviary were
as follows :— Bx, ah

Original estimate for aviary ... ... ... 46
Wood lining to roof... ... ... a Ost
Glass roof & netting inna to same ...
Shelves for seed room & some cages ...
Spouting

Baths 7, one in mien GE the. five laivisions

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& 1 each in the passage & smallaviary 2 4 6

Fixing baths and making two dumb
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I should explain that the second dumb weli was
made to carry off the water from the spouting on
the north side, and also -partly for the advantage
of my old aviary (No. 2) that I have previously
described. The original dumb well for this latter
aviary was only small, so now a connecting pipe
from it leads into this larger well made for the
newer aviary.

The No. 2 aviary cost me nearly £70, but I
consider the newer one, No. 3, is far the nicer,
besides being so much larger. I was more experi-
enced, and I hope more business-like, when I built
this last aviary, but it is only when an aviary is
really put up that ome sees clearly all its advan-
tages and disadvantages, things look so different
in reality to what they do on paper, and one’s
ideas expand as you go on. I am not likely ever
to build another aviary in our garden-orchard ;
indeed, I have promised that I will not encroach
on the rights of the flowers any further, but if ever
I could afford the space—and money—to put up a
new home for my birds, I would make improve-
ments on my last building, alterations that, now
I have really lkxept birds in it, I can see would be
beneficial.

I ought to tell you that this No. 3 aviary has had
a wire flight built on to the western end some few
years ago. This flight is divided into two parts
(with a communicating door). One portion acts
as a small flight to the little aviary I spoke of at
one end of the passage, and the other part is used
to put just a few birds in, its present occupants
being a pair each of Cockatiels, Black-bearded
Doves, and two Violet Doves. ‘The first-named
have reared three young this year (’ro), and the hen
is now laying again. A sturdy apple tree grows in
this flight. The floor is not cemented, nor even
undetlaid with wire, but is just earth, and, in the
smaller half, beaten-down ashes. The larger half
has no proper shelter, so possibly I may take all
the birds out of it when the summer is over.

No. 4 aviary is only a very ordinary type, and
therefore there is little to say of it. Perhaps I
should have mentioned it before No. 3, for it is
the older building. It consists of a shelter, flight,
and double door. The front of the shelter is wire,
with two wooden shutters to cover it in winter. It
has a boarded floor, a little window at one end,
and a doorway into the flight. The flight is just
wood and wire, with a wood and wire porch and
double doors. There is a bath in the flight con- _
nected with a dumb well, and the soil floor is under-
laid, as is also the shelter, with very close wire
netting to keep out rats. The shelter is rather
more than 8 ft. long by 5 ft. ro inches wide. The
flight is the same size, exclusive of the porch and
double doors. Both this aviary and also Nos. 2

Uy ro NI

ORDINARY LIFE. 21

and 3 are covered over with creepers, chiefly roses
and different kinds of ivies, adding much to the
improvement of the loolx of the wooden buildings,
which, left bare, would appear rather unsightly.
And now, having described all my _ birds’
dwellings—save some little rums at present occu-
pied by a pair of Algerian Partridges and a
Tasmanian Squirrel—I will just add one or two
more details. J have told you that the fronts of
No. 1 and No. 3 aviaries are open wire netting
(No. 2 has glass shutters in front). To prevent
the birds being frightened by cats at night, and
also to lkeep out the cold in winter, I have arranged
curtains to stretch across the fronts of both these
aviaries. The curtains are made of a wide, strong
material, such as Bolton sheeting; this is of a

sufficient width not to require more than one
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breadth (and so avoid any join). Rings are stitched
along the top, and run on a tight wire securely
fastened at each end of the aviary, while one end
of the curtain is nailed to the end post of the
aviary, and the other end is ringed to fasten on to
small hooks placed to keep the curtain stretched
tight.

In the day-time the curtain is just drawn back
to the secured end, and tied back by a piece of stout
twine, nailed there for the purpose. On misty

days, or if it is very cold, the curtain is kept
drawn. There are, however, two things you must
remember : first, do not tie your curtain baclx after
it is soaked with rain; draw it, but just leave it to
hang loose and dry. If you tie it in it will rot and
soon wear out. The other point is that if your
aviary is a long one, as in mine, 32 ft., you will
find the weight of the curtain when stretched out
will bend your wire in the middle, and cause it to
drop a little. To avoid this, put L-shaped screw
hooks along your aviary top beam, and just lift the
wire over this when you have drawn the curtain,
of course unhooking the curtain before you draw it
back in the morning.

In No. 1 aviary the curtain is run on an iron
rod, not wire, and is divided into two halves (being
strapped back in the middle and hoolked at each
outer end), but where you have a length so long as
32 ft., and desire your curtain in one piece, it is
obvious you must have wire, for an iron bar could
not very well be got long enough.

I have now told you about my aviaries, so
shall pass on to the care of their inmates, their
ordinary life, and how to treat them when nesting,
in sickness, and when packing them to send away
to new homes. There are many little details which
only can be learnt gradually if you have no one to
help you, and J hope you may find the reading of
them useful, both to you and to your birds.

First as to your doves’

ORDINARY LIFE.

I feed my doves on a mixture of wheat, dari,
and a lesser proportion of hemp, white millet, and
a little rice. This is their diet year in and year
out. I have fed my doves on this mixture for
years, and find they thrive very well on it, for I
very seldom lose an adult bird, and some I have
had for very many years. This “‘Dove Mixture’’
I get ready mixed by the bushel from our corn
merchant, having told him the proportions; he
charges sometimes more, sometimes less, accord-
ing to the prices of the seeds. I get two bushels at
a time, and the price for this quantity may be
t0o/9 up to 12/-. It is kept in the centre division
of the corn bin in the little seed room. I should
mention that I add the white millet to the ‘‘mix-
ture’’ myself; it is a seed I do not find the doves
much care for, and in the nesting season, when
young ones are being fed, | give rather more
hemp. On one of the shelves in the seed room
stand three large-size biscuit tins to hold the supply
of mixed seed for the different kinds of birds,
namely, parrots, doves, and tiny waxbills and
finches, and these tins I fill up from the bin,
mixing the seeds myself as they are emptied. I do

Nv
iS)

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

BLACK-BEARDED DOVES.

not give each seed in separate vessels. There may
be rather more waste giving it mixed, but I do
not think a bird is so apt to eat more than it should
of one kind of seed if it has to be at the trouble
of picking that particular seed out.

Then, in addition to the seed, I give the birds
now and then ground biscuit, this being ground
up in my ‘‘Enterprise’’ cutter (Spratt’s), and after-
wards sifted. You will find, though you can
regulate the size cut by the screw, that it is im-
possible to cut such a substance as biscuit clean.
There will always be a certain amount of dust and
smaller pieces, but none of this need be wasted.
It can be sifted again in a smaller-holed sifter,
and again in a smaller still, and this will now give
you three sizes of biscuit, the largest for the doves,
the smaller size for your tiny birds, the dust for
mixing with your soft food, being much more pre-
ferable for this purpose, in my opinion, than grated
carrot.

The biscuit I purchase from Messrs. Lipton,
getting a case of, say, $ cwt. at a time. This
will last you for long, and keep well in the wooden
box it comes in. The kind I am using now is
the ‘‘Daisy’’ biscuit (9/- for a 36 lb. case), before
I have used the ‘‘President’? and ‘‘Pan Lunch,’’
but these two kinds have gone up in price. The
doves have always a lump of rock salt in a pot in
each aviary, and the egg shells are saved in the
Ixitchen, well dried by being placed in a tin cul-
linder on the kitchen range, and then ground up
in the cutter and given to the birds.

It is no use trying to grind the shells before they
are well dry, and it is no trouble to the cook to put
them in the cullinder, nor for you to empty it
every few days. I look on this grit made from
eggshells as most important to birds, especially
for the hens about to lay. When you know your
birds are nesting always remember to scatter plenty
of this grit on the floor, and the laying of firm-
shelled eggs should be your reward. ’

Another item in my doves’ diet is cut up Monkey
Nuts, or, as some people call them, pea nuts. - I

found this out by accident. I was shelling some
nuts as I stood in the aviary, for some of my
members of the Parrot tribe, and the bits of nut
were picked up and eaten with evident relish by
a Violet Dove. But pea nuts are tedious things
to shell by hand, and when shelled are awkward
and slippery to cut with a knife. This difficulty,
however, has been got over. Mr. J. J. Armitage
(of the firm of Messrs. Armitage, 27, Castle Gate,
Nottingham, who are large seed merchants) came
to my rescue. He can shell and cut up the nuts
for me by machinery, making the pieces any size
I like, the price of the nuts being 4/- a stone,
shelled and cut. Mr. Armitage has been a very

. good friend to both my birds and myself, and we

owe him our very grateful thanks for many kind-
nesses; he has always been so interested in my
birds, and in thinking out anything that may
conduce to their comfort. I do not know if the
oil that is in the nut might affect a bird’s plumage
and give it a glossy lool, but my birds certainly
look very “‘tight’” in feather, and it is very seldom
that they ail anything.

I am sure doves need other food besides dry
seeds. Bleeding Hearts are fond of mealworms,
and I have found them also delight in “‘soft”” food.
This I get from Mr. Armitage at 8d. Ib., and very

excellent it is. J mix it with the ground biscuit, —

about half of each. In No. 2 aviary, which is at
present rather mixed as to its inhabitants, a pot of
this soft food was put daily for a Blue-cheeked
Barbet that I had for some years. I soon found
other birds besides the Barbet helped themselves

to it and flourished. One was my cock Barra-

band parraleet, and others were the Bleeding
Hearts. It certainly seemed to suit them, and I
have no doubt that others of my doves who also
get it are improved by it too, for in so many notes
on the wild life of doves we read of their subsist-
ing on berries, so that more than a dry seed diet
seems needed, and the soft food apparently is an
excellent substitute.

I have spoken in the notes following on the
Bronze-wings of their fondness for Wine

Dwarr TuRTLE AND BRUSH BRONZE-WING.

"ie

ORDINARY LIFE. 23

and my Black-bearded doves, especially the hen,
delights in red currants, plucked off the stem. I
have noticed that when she picked one up she did
not swallow it at once, but jerked it with her beak
against the ground first, like a thrush with a
worm.

“It is rather a disputed question where the seed
pots should be put in an aviary. If on the floor
there is a fear of mice, or, worse still, rats. I
remember, years ago, when as children we kept
four Nun pigeons, how a rat got into the aviary,
and gnawed the poor birds’ toe nails off, but,
strangely enough, did not kill them. Finally this
rat came to a curious end. We found it fast in
the wire netting (which was larger than 3 inch
mesh). By some means it had got its head
through and so entangled itself it could not get

CRESTED SENEGAL AND WHITE-WINGED DOVES.

free again. Rats can even get through a tiled
floor, burrowing under a tile and causing it to
sink. Once I heard of a rat doing this in a
dwelling-house, and malxing a sort of nest in the
cavity, lining it comfortably with some small
children’s socks it had stolen. Rats are said to
always come where there is grain, but so far we
have not suffered from them, though one or two
mice have been caught, chiefly in the passage and
seed-room. In the solitary instance when the rat
came after the pigeons, I think it was partially
due to the pulling down of some very old buildings
close by, and so the rats got disturbed and were
obliged to seelk new quarters.

If you have a suspicion that mice are about, I
know of no better plan than to get a small wooden
box, and inside it place an ‘‘Out o’ Sight” spring
mouse-trap, costing 2d. This you should nail
down to the bottom of the box to prevent it shift-

ing, then cut a small hole large enough for a
mouse to enter at one end of the box, and set your
trap, baiting it with strong cheese. In this way
there is no fear in setting the trap that the doves
will get caught in it, for if it were set with no
protection the doves would be certain to peck the
cheese, and would as certainly get caught by the
beak, and either brealx it or die from shock and
suffocation. I once had a favourite little wild
robin that we had tamed who got killed in this
way. He was only in the trap about a minute,
but he was caught by the beak and quite dead
when I found him. Of course, this plan of putting
the trap in a box would not be safe to try where
there were any birds small enough to go through
the entrance hole.

Every year, and sometimes twice a year, I get a
good load of Scotch Fir branches to fasten up in
the aviaries for cover. J have tried other firs, but
none Ixeep the ‘“‘needles”” on save the Scotch. I
pay tos. a load for them, carting and delivery free.
I am fortunate in living in a very wooded country,
but if you are not I would advise the use of pea
rods stretched flat across the corners of the shelter.
Gorse I do not care for, the spines are dangerous.
Bracken may be used, and the undergrowth when
a wood is cleared out. As cleanliness is most im-
portant in an aviary, I prefer to renew the cover
every year.

In some aviaries bushes are planted in the flights
or grown in pots, and if this is done in an open
part of the aviary where there is rain to wash the
cover and keep it clean it may be satisfactory, but
our English summers are too uncertain to rear
young birds out in the open. I never fasten up
any branches or nest pans save where the nesting
birds would have a roof over their heads, for I
am sure the young birds should be kept dry if
they are to be kept healthy.

The fir branches generally want a little trimming
with a cutter before they are fastened up with nails
and wire to the aviary walls, for a long length of
bare branch is of no use to you, and only makes a
greater weight for the nails to carry. The nails
should be strong and large-headed, so that the
wire does not slip over the head. Quite short
lengths of pliable wire will do, just long enough
to go once or twice round the branch and round
the nail; then twist the ends of the wire together
and nip them off close and hammer them flat
against the branch, so that the birds do not catch
on them. The branches are fastened some feet
from the ground, so as to give more floor room,
and also to prevent mice running up them, and
are placed in an upright position as if they were
growing. If a branch is very heavy it should be
wired in several places. It is really better to have

24 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

two people to do this
work, for besides one
holding up the branch
whilst the other wires,
it is so much easier
for the person “ot on
the steps to judge of
the effect from below,
as to whether a branch
is in a good position ;
sometimes two or
three places must
be tried before the
best is really settled
on

PLUMED GROUND Doye. :
In addition to the branches, I have numerous
perches fixed in the aviary, by simply boring holes
in the woodwork and knocking the perches firmly

in with a hammer. Where the woodwork is not
deep enough for a hole, it is easy to screw a block
of wood on to the woodworl: and male your hole
in the block. A very good perch is an unvarnished
broom handle (costing 2d.) cut up into three short
or two longer lengths, one end being slightly pared
where it is to be knocked into the wood, as a
perch with a slanting end drives ‘‘home’’ so much
better into the woodwork than if the hole and
perch were exactly the saine size. These broom
handles seem just the right size for doves’ feet—
except for the very tiny varieties, when a slight
bamboo stick might be used, but it would have the
drawback of being rather cold to the birds’ feet.

Every dove has its own particular roosting-place,
and this must not be invaded by any other bird,
so when you get a fresh arrival be very careful not
to introduce it straight off to the others towards
evening.

The best and wisest plan is really to keep the
newcomer in a cage for the night, with a few
drops of Syrup of Phosphate of Iron in its drink-
ing water, and then, next day, when it is
thoroughly rested, to turn it in with your other
birds, early in the day. You must keep a very
careful look out, going down to the aviary oftener
than usual, to see if your birds are agreeing
together, for if there is going to be any fighting
it will probably begin at once. If you find the
birds inclined to attack each other, talkxe the new-
comer away. It is hopeless to try to make birds
agree when once they have decided to be enemies.

Your “spring cleaning’’ in the aviary and the
fixing of your branches should all be complete by
the beginning of March. Probably you will. find
your birds—or some of them—will want to start
nesting in February, but such haste should be
severely discouraged. You will now have to decide
how many birds you can place in each aviary, and
which birds will be friendly with others. Talxe

this as one of your best mottoes: ‘‘Never over-
crowd.’’ It is very tempting to do this; one keeps
thinking the aviary will hold ‘‘just one pair more,”’
and studying the different bird sale lists only males
the temptation stronger. At one time I got the
bird-buying fever so badly that at last I had to
resolutely pass over ihe sale column for fear I
should succumb. All the same, if you are strong-
minded enough to be able to read and not to pur-
chase, by all means study the lists every weelx—it
will teach you the value of birds, and how the
prices vary according to the seasons when certain
birds are shipped, and so you may judge when it
is the wisest and also the cheapest time to
purchase.

Having told you something of my doves’ every-
day life, I will now tell you something about their
nesting.

CHAPTER II.
NESTING.

Tue aviculturalist who loves his (or her) birds
looks forward very much to the bright days of
spring and summer, when the winter is a thing
of the past and the nesting season has come. I
always feel, however badly my birds have done one
year, the next may be a better one, for should not
every year bring more experience, and experience
more chance of success? And so I start again
with renewed hope.

It is important, first of all, that you start with
your aviary clean—the paint washed, the white-
wash renewed, if needed. You will have little

Crested Dove.
Photo: Mr. H. Willford.

chance to do this later on without disturbing the
birds, and your places should at any rate start
free from insects and dirt. So I would advise you
to clean down early, and after you have done this

NESTING.

to
oO

fix your branches, and have all ready for the little
housekeepers to start their summer homes by the
beginning of March, for doves begin nesting very
early. Having fixed your branches, your next
work is to tie up your nesting pans. Doves are
noted for their frail and careless nests; sometimes
the eggs can even be seen from below, so lightly
have the twigs been arranged, so if your young
birds are to be secure from falling out it is best to
put some receptacle for the birds to build in.

I have read a pretty old legend of how, long
ago, the Sphinx called all the birds together to
come and have a lesson on how to build a nesi.
The audience duly assembled, but the dove flew
away almost at the beginning of the lecture, -quite
satisfied that she had learnt all there was to learn,
and, one by one, at later intervals, the other birds
followed her bad example, till only one bird was
left, the little swallow, who stayed till the very last
word. Now you see why the dove builds such a
very poor nest, and the swallow (because it learnt
the lesson properly) the most perfect nest of all,
for it learnt what none of the others did—to make
a roof over its little home and to make it weather-
proof.

At one time I used to make my nest baskets
myself of wicker; they are very easy to make, but
I have discarded them now for pans made of zinc.
I get these made at our local ironmonger’s, and
the price is 6d. to 9d. according to the size. They
are round, the bottom just a little concave. The
rim is some 13 inches deep, and slants rather out-
wards. Round it at intervals are holes punched
(to pass string through when tying the nests to
the branches) in pairs, about an inch between.
About five pairs of holes are in each pan. The
edge of the brim is rolled over wire so that it is
not sharp or cutting. If any reader cares to get
.these nest pans, they can be obtained from Messrs.
Shaw, ironmongers, Bridge Street, Worlxsop, but
it would be as well to mention they are to be like
those Messrs. Shaw make for myself, and also to
state the size required. A useful size is 73 inches
across from rim to rim; for very large pigeons
they would be better 9 inches.

To each pair of birds allow two nests. The
reason for this is that the parents will probably
begin to want to nest again before the first young
ones are ready to leave the nest, and, if they have
nowhere else to go to, they may compel the young
ones to leave their nursery before they are really
old enough, whereas if a second nest-pan is pro-
vided the eggs will probably be laid in it, and the
non-sitting parent (the cock sits in the day-time,
the hen at night) will look after the nestlings. For
if your first motto in keeping doves is ‘‘Do not
over-crowd,’’ your second should be: Keep your

young ones in the nest as long as you can. They:
will be all the stronger for it; indeed, I do nod
know but that it would not pay in the end to take
away the second clutch of eggs (if the old birds
started again when the young were only about 10
days old) and put them under Barbary Doves as
foster-parents, if possible, so as to allow all their
attention to be given to the existing young birds.

An important point is how many nesting pairs
to allow to each aviary? To really do well I do
not think more than two pairs should be allowed
in an aviary 16 ft. x 6 ft., for if one pair starts
before the other it sometimes happens that you
cannot remove your young birds when you would,
because your second pair of birds are sitting, and
you dare not risk disturbing them by doing any
catching, so you must just watch your chance—
it may be not for weeks—when you can ‘remove
your young ones safely. So that, though your
aviary may look empty with only two pairs in at
the beginning of the season, it is better than being
too full, and you can leave your young ones in
longer in consecuence.

Possibly you have no spare place for your young
birds, and you must keep them till they are nearly
adult, and till quite the end of the season. If this
is so, be sure and put rings on the legs of your
old birds before the nesting begins, or you will be
parting with an old bird in mistalke for a young
one, and this is a most vexing thing to do. In
“The Feathered World” you will find plenty of
rings advertised in the pigeon appliance column.
The kind I get are made of some soft metal that
can be pulled open, the two ends fitting V-shaped
into each other when closed again on the bird’s
leg. These rings can be had stamped with the
date of the year, and in different sizes. If I
remember rightly, my own came from a Mr.
Hughes, who probably still advertises them. It is
easy to ring a dove yourself. Open the ring first
and lay it by you, then catch your bird and hold it
in your left hand firmly, with its back against your
chest, then gently pull out the leg to be ringed
with your right hand (Ikeeping it extended between
the first and second finger of your left hand), slip
the ring round the ankle and close it with your free
right hand. After a little practice you will find
you can do it without any fuss or bother, but be
sure and close your ring neatly so that the points
do not overlap. It is well to have a fixed rule
which leg you put the ring on where the sexes are
much alike. I put it on the left leg of my hens,
the right of the cocks.

Before you arrange your aviaries for the nesting
season, think out carefully which birds to put
together, as if you are to have any success your
two pairs must be friendly to each other If you

26 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

are fortunate enough to have once made a good
combination, make a note of it and keep to it, not
only for the present season, but future ones. Don’t
run risks by introducing any birds unknown to the
others, and especially during the nesting season.
Trouble will be sure to follow. If your first
arrangement is satisfactory, keep to it. I have
in my first division a:‘pair of Rufous Pigeons and
Brush Bronze-wings. They are used to each other
and nest without any interference on either side,
but I am certain if I put in any other bird there
would be trouble at once. Where you are anxious
to have a good breeding season you must humour
your birds; you cannot be too careful, for doves are
very peculiar. They will even show you where
they want to nest before carrying up a twig. It
may be only a foot or so from where you have tied
up your tempting nest-pan, but it is of no use, you
may just as well take it down and refix it. When-
ever | see one of my nesting birds squatting in a
branch I know what it means. The bird is not
perching in an ordinary way, but sitting motion-
less on the bough, in the same position as if sitting
on eggs. Of course, I always take the little hint
and alter the position of the nest-pan, putting it
where the bird was squatting, and I find invariably
the nest will be built there almost at once.

For nesting material I use dead heather. I find
it clean and strong, and very suitable for the pur-
pose. Often it can be used once or twice over, if
put to soak in a bucket of water and well washed.
I buy it from Mr. F. Hiscock, Blashford, Hants.
He has supplied me with heather for years every
spring, before the birds start nesting, for of course
you must get it beforehand. I break it up into
pieces about four or five inches long, and put a
lining in the nest-pans to start the birds, and I also
throw some on the floor. It is as well not to be
too lavish with the heather, as sometimes I have
known doves carry up such a pile as to have quite
a pyramid in the nest, the top, of course, much
smaller than the base, and this is fraught with
danger to the young birds.

Only the other day a pair of Dwarf Turtles
built a nest like this, and laid the eggs, which
duly hatched. I feared to disturb them by inter-
fering, but I felt sure something would go wrong.
Every morning I used to get the steps and climb
up to see if the nestlings were all right, for the
nest was all to itself in the shelter, and no other
birds came in, while the parents only seemed, after
the first few days, to cover the young at night, so
there was no fear of disturbing them. When the
nestlings were some days old I one morning
noticed one on the edge of the nest, and climbing
up to see, I found the poor little thing had strayed
an inch or two from the other, and (as it was very

cold) the hen had probably brooded only the one in
the centre of the nest, leaving the adventurous
young bird all night uncovered.

Now if the nest had been buiit not nearly so -

high, but just to the level of the pan, and concave
in shape, this would probably never have happened.
The young birds were both blind, as all young
doves are for the first few days of their existence,
and so had no sense to get back to the centre of the
nest. At first I feared the young one would die,
for it was very cold, but after being held for some
time in my warm hands it began to recover.

Remember, live warmth is the best remedy possible -

for a bird suffering from collapse from cold; it
brings baclx the vitality better than anything.

It is a most curious sensation to feel the life
gradually coming back: in a nearly dead bird, the
heart beginning to beat very fitfully at first and
then gradually calmer and more regular. Some-
times, in extreme cases and in very cold weather
you will need other remedies too, but I will tell
vou more of these when I treat later on of siclx
birds. Having revived the bird, I then turned my
attention to the nest, and pulled away quite two-
thirds of the heather, being careful to do it from
the underneath part, not from the top, lest the old
birds should desert the nest, for it is a risk to
interfere with a nest, however carefully you may
do it.

Having made the heather lining as concaye as
I could, I put back the young birds, who, of
course, had been taken out during the re-arrange-

ment, and they settled down at once. The parents —

have not deserted them, and they have stayed
where they should stay—in the middle of the nest-
pan.

I have also known doves make a nest and lay
eggs, then perhaps more heather has been put in
the aviary for other nesting doves, and the birds
have not been able to resist gathering it, and have
piled it on the top of the eggs. I remember once
in my early days finding about three sets of eggs
piled under a huge stack of heather. I had been
quite unaware as to what was going on, for my
chief object in not going to inspect was the fear
of frightening the birds from the nest.

It is usually the hen who makes the nest. She
sits in the nest-pan and arranges all the pieces of
heather the cock brings to her, tucking the pieces
in with her beak. It is very amusing to see the
cock choosing his material; he will piclx up several
pieces and throw each one down again before he is
satisfied.

At this stage be sure and put down plenty of
ground dried eggshell for the hen. If you have
no cutter, do it with a rolling pin, it will crush it
just as well. If you do this regularly your hens

"yh

NESTING. 27

e
should never be eggbound. I think I can only
remember one hen in the many (of the larger
varieties) I have kept that died of this, and in this
single case the bird had a bad fall also, which no
doubt made matters worse.

I can never be certain of my own doves how
long they sit, for most of the nests are above my
head, and it frightens the birds if one brings in
steps or stools from which to observe at close
quarters, so it is not worth while to run any risks.
If you cannot tell the time you will at least know
when the eggs are hatched, for the shell—broken
in half—will be thrown out of the nest. A hatched
shell that has held a living bird will have a reddish
tinge (as of dried blood) inside. If you have two
eggs, and both hatch, the second shell will be
thrown out next day, often being found quite a
distance from the nest.

If you could see the newly-hatched young ones
you would think what ugly, helpless little things,
for they are blind, and covered with cream hairy
down, and the flesh and feet and legs look very
dark-coloured. It is difficult to think, as one looks
at the parent birds, that they, too, were once like
their children; but perhaps more difficult still to
understand how such a tiny thing as this empty
egeg-shell held this living bird, and how in such a
cramped position it could live, and, further, have
the power to burst its prison. If bird-keeping does
nothing else for us, it at least teaches us how
wonderful is our Creator, and how humble we feel
before the Power that can give Life. We can take
life away, but all the people in the world with their
united strength could not give it, even to so help-
less a thing as a baby dove.

As soon as ever you find the eggshells you must
begin to try and protect the nestlings from acci-
dents. There is always the chance they may fall
from the nest, and if they fell on the hard floor it
would mean death; so it is as well to put down a
good bed of hay below the nest, and remember at
this stage to go round your aviary oftener than
usual to see all is well.

Both parents feed the young ones from the crop,
the soft food forming whilst the birds are sitting.
It is a pretty sight to see the greedy young ones
being fed, when they get rather older and vigorous
and eager for food. I have seen: one of my old
Barbary doves with a young one on each side of
him, their beaks inside his, and he pumping up
the food from his crop as fast as he can to satisfy
the little tyrants. So attentive are the parents in
some cases that I have known their beaks get
quite sore with the continuous feeding of their
young ones. F
_ It will be a proud day for you when your first
young dove leaves the nest. You will not

probably see the descent,:but will find a pretty,
round-eyed little bird comfortably squatted on your
hay bed. If you had not put down the hay you
might have found a dead body, or a nestling with
a broken leg or wing. Now that the hay has
served its purpose it is better, after the second
young one has come down, to take nearly all away.
Leave just a handful, no more, in a corner of the
shelter for the young birds to sit on, for they need
a firm surface to walk on; a soft one only means
weak legs. Like the strong, firm pads of a dog
used to road exercise, so a young dove needs a
hard floor if its legs are to be kept straight.

You are now at a very critical time in your
young birds’ life. If the parents will go on feed-
ing them all will be well, but if they begin to nest
again the chance of rearing the young ones is
much lessened. I have sometimes thought it
might not be a bad plan, after the young have
left the nest, to cut down every nest-pan, even the
old nursery, and take out every bit of building
material, and so discourage the parents, if pos-
sible, from starting nesting again till the young
ones were about a month old. It would perhaps .
mean less young ones being bred in a season, but
they would be stronger birds. If one only kept
one pair of nesting birds in each aviary this plan
might be carried out, but where there are two
pairs it would be very difficult, and would probably
mean that your second pair of birds, if sitting, at
the time, would be disturbed.

Doves vary so very much in character. Some
may be trusted to look after their young and a
second clutch of eggs; with others, when you hear
the old cock restarting to coo, you realise the
young have a very poor chance of being reared,
for neglect follows, and speedily death, the parents.
appearing to have lost all affection for the young
ones, and caring only for the new eggs. Perhaps
the better plan is to take either the cock or hen
away (whichever seems the worst feeder of the
young) on the very first suspicion, before the fresh
eggs are laid. But here again you run the risk
of disturbing any other sitting bird in the aviary if
you start to do any catching.

When the young ones first come out of the nest
I usually keep them in the shelter for a day or
two, with a barrier (made of one of the door
shutters) fastened across the doorway. They have
a tiny bed of hay in one corner, and are quite
happy, the old birds being not in the least disturbed
by the blocked doorway, for they can easily fly
over it, in and out. Then, if the weather is fairly
warm, I let the young ones out into the glass-
covered flight, taking the shutter from the door-
way, but putting a further barrier (made of two
shutters) across where the glass-covered part joins

28 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

the open flight. I put in one corner of the flight a
lidless box on its side, with a handful of hay in the
bottom for the little birds to nestle in. The box
is a good size, and acts as a sort of shelter. By
these precautions you will notice the young are
kept on entirely dry flooring for some time after
they leave the nest (for if the weather is wet and
cold they are not even allowed to leave the shelter),
and this I regard as very important. Young birds
are given to squatting much on the ground when
first they leave the nest. If they do this on wet
ground what can you expect? A chill follows, the
young one becomes very relaxed, the parents,
realising that it is not quite healthy, promptly will
have nothing to do with the poor thing, and it
just wealxens and dies. In doves, and in animals
also, the healthy dislilxe the sick; they feel that a
weakling is better dead. The survival of the
fittest is to them one of the first laws of nature.

After a time the young ones get able to fly up
on to the barrier, and then it is perhaps better to
tale it away, talking care to have the bath covered
over and no deep water pots, for fear of any
accident from drowning. Unless you have a spare
house that you can give up almost entirely to your
young birds of the year, it is better not to move
them for some time after they are able to do for
themselves.

Young birds are very nervous; they will fly
straight at the wire, and perhaps maim a leg or
a wing for life, on seeing a stranger, and, there-
fore, if you are wise you will allow no visitors in
the aviary during the nesting season, for birds are
quick to notice anyone unknown to them, and one
terrified young bird may cause no end of damage
both to itself and to other nesting birds.

Indeed, at all times it is as well to be careful
who sees your birds. Children are always a risk,
also anyone wearing very light clothes or who will
point out a bird they notice with a_ stick or
umbrella. Who can wonder if the poor inmates
mistake it for a gun? Or, again, if a lady comes
adorned with a many-headed fur, or a whole parrot
mounted in her hat, can you blame the birds if
they are frightened? JI remember once being
asked if two people staying in the town could see
my birds. I said ‘‘Yes,’’ and they duly came.
The lady wore a hat with a bright emerald green
dyed Ringneck Parrakeet—head, beak, body and
tail—standing straight up in it. The young man
had no more sense than to try to rouse my poor
grey parrot (who was ill with inflammation) by
blowing at it through the cage. I do not thinlx
either of these people cared for birds—they were
merely passing the time by coming—but it was
their first and last visit, for the birds were terri-
fied. So, at the risk of being thought unkind or

selfish, stand up for your birds’ comfort, and have
the courage to say ‘‘No’’ politely when you deem
it desirable to refuse a request to “‘see the birds.”
Some people, of course, it is a pleasure to take
round, but they are mostly people who are con-
siderate or who nave Ixept birds themselves, and
so understand them.

When the young birds leave the nest they should
be carefully watched to see that the other doves
do not molest them. Several times I have lost
promising young ones in this way. Sometimes I
have found the parents will look after one young
bird—-usually the first out of the nest—and neglect
the other. There will be little hope for you of
rearing the forsaken young one. Some few times
I have hand-reared the hardier kinds by giving
them a little yollk of egg and millz thickened with
oatmeal, just dipping the beak into it, and, of
course, after the bird has fed, talking care to keep
it warm; but I doubt if a bird so reared would
ever be very strong, and to have any chance at
all it must be taken in hand early, before it gets
too wealk.*

I have a pair of Barbary doves I keep as foster
parents, for, suppose they lay, and another rare
dove lays at the same time, and you know the
latter is a bad sitter, you can easily change the
eggs. This year my Barbary doves brought up a
neglected young Dwarf Turtle, just a day or two
old, with their own young one, who was about the
same age. But it is this point that is the diffi-
culty. I do not pretend to fully understand it, and
it would be most interesting if someone would
make a series of careful observations, but, as is
well known, whilst doves are sitting, just before
hatching, the soft food prepares in the parent
birds’ crop to feed the young one, and is ready by
the time of hatching for that purpose. As the
young one grows the food thickens.

Now suppose you place some eggs under a Bar-
bary that were laid and sat on a few days previously
to their own, what would happen? The strange
eggs would hatch before the soft food was ready in
the foster parents’ crop, and the young would die
of starvation. If, on the other hand, the eggs
hatched some few days after the soft food had
been ready, the chances are the young would not
be fed, though whether this is because the food

*! have lately gained further experience in hand feeding. For food
1 should give Malt Milk, pepsinated meal (both Spratt’s) mixed with
water as directed ; both are in powder form like flour, Besides these |
“oft food,” mixed with powdered biscuit and moistened, and later
soaked and crushed small seeds. For a feeder use a_shaped and
rounded quill tooth pick, pushing the food off the quill with the right
yore finger. Hold the nestling with your lett hand, letting it stand on
a flat surface, the beak between the base of the first and second finger. —
Held in this way the young one thinks the parent's beak 1s enclosing
its own, and will open its beak naturally for food.. A young dove
taught me this accidentally. Put your nestling on a bed of hay covered
with flannel in a flower pot, placing perforated zinc cver the top, and
put the pot on hot pipes or a flat hot water bottle. Feed every two
hours, from about 7 a.m. to 9 p.m.

PACKING AND SENDING AWAY: NURSING. 2

28)

has got too thick, or, not being used, has ceased
in the crop, I do not know. Anyhow, the fact
remains that if foster parents are to be a success
the strange eggs or young ones given into their
care must be almost exactly the same age as their
own would have been, or they will not thrive.

You may soon tell if an egg is fertile or not, for
as the young bird develops in the shell it will
grow darker, and the egg heavier. An egg that
is nearly due to hatch may be left for quite a long
time unsat on till it is quite cold, and still hatch
if the parent bird returns to the nest, because the
life in it is so much stronger than in that of a
newly-laid egg, to which a short spell of cold is
fatal. i

There is one point more I should mention.
When a young dove leaves the nest (through being
startled) just a day or two before it should have
done, do not attempt to put it back, for a young
bird at this stage will never stay in the nest if it
has once left it, and, besides, you run the risk of
making the second young one—if there is one—
jump out, too, and possibly it may injure itself
in doing so. Also, do not make any attempt to
clean out the nest or put fresh heather in it whilst
the young are still inside, even though the nest has
got very dirty. A Barbary dove might not mind
your doing this, but other and more nervous birds
will not stand interference.

Though so very ugly in their first stages, young
doves are most beautiful little things when they
leave the nest. There is an innocent Jools in their
dark eyes that is only seen in very young animals
and birds, when the world is as yet a strange and
wonderful place to them. Even at this early age
they show their fear of man, and they will raise
their tiny wings at you to strike and defend them-
selves. Mr. Teschemaker has just caught this
attitude and expression in his beautiful photo-
graph of a young Dwarf Ground Dove. I have
never kept this bird, but have availed myself of
the very kind offer of permission to use the plate,
because I have never seen so typical a study of
a young dove before as in this charming picture.

CHAPTER III.

PACKING AND SENDING AWAY, AND
NURSING IN SICKNESS AND -ACCIDENT.

I aways pack any birds I send away myself.
At one time I used travelling box cages with wire
fronts, but now I use clean empty boxes instead.
There is no fear of muslin or paper being torn, as
is often done to the front of travelling cages in
transit, for people will be curious, and a label with
“Live birds’? on seems at once to produce excite-
ment as to what may be inside. Now, in an ordi-

nary closed box there is only the air hole to peep
through, and that reveals very little, the bird takes
no chill, and the receiver of the bird need not be
troubled to return the box, as it is not worth it.

Clean wooden boxes can be had for id. from any
grocer. Choose one the size you want—do not
have it too large, but be sure it is deep enough to
allow the bird to stand upright when on the perch
—knock the dust out of your box and remove any
splinters, and take out any nails that may be in the
lid. Now saw off two of the top corners of the
front of the box or two of the front corners of the
lid—not too large pieces, just enough to make
sufficient air-holes. A piece of a broom handle
makes a good perch. Saw it just the width of the
box, and when you have lined the bottom of the
inside of the box with brown paper, slip your
perch in, and press it well down to the bottom so
that it rests on it. The perch is now secured by a
nail at each end, hammered in from the outside.
It is not a bad plan to hammer your nails just
through the box first, then slip in your perch so
that it comes over the nail points, and then
hammer your nails home.

You can either put some soalxed bread loose in
the box, or you can put it in a little tin drinker,
the kind that can be bought for a few pence the
dozen. In either case, put your bread in to soak
first thing, so that by the time you have done the
air-holes and the perch your bread will be ready,
for if it is to be of any use it must take up plenty
of water. If you use a drinker, fix it in this way:
Straighten out its wire hooks, mark in pencil the
width between them on the outside of the box,
make two holes through with a pricker, place the
drinker in position inside the box (the hooks being
through the holes), and hammer down the project-
ing wire ends of the drinker on the outside. In
this way the tin will keep quite steady. You have
now only to put a handful or two of seed into the
box, and gum on the label, and your box is ready
for its occupant. The labels I use were printed
(in large red letters) at our stationer’s, and are
gummed at the back. They are headed lile this:

URGENT.—THIS SIDE UP.

LIVE BIRDS.

the blank space being left for the address, date,
and train, to be filled in. Besides this label I also
tie on another on the string round the box. Cut
your length of string off, put out ready the short

30 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

nails to fasten down the lid, and then catch your
bird.

Catching, without injury, is an art in itself. I
have never been very skilled at it. The best way

to box your bird is to grip it firmly across the:

shoulders with your left hand, holding the bird
pressed against you. This leaves the right hand
free to open and close the box lid. Once safely
inside, nail down the lid, tie on your string and
label, and the bird is ready to start. I think it is
as well to send birds off late in the day, for if at
liberty in the ordinary daily routine they would not
want food in the night, and so, beyond a lack of
sleep, they really do not suffer much.

It is as well, though, to put the food in, for it
might be late on the next day before the bird
reached its destination. Arrange beforehand by
letter as to what day you are sending the bird, and
confirm this with an advance post card sent off the
day the bird has left, so as to arrive before it. It
is a sort of unwritten law that in selling a bird the
buyer always pays the carriage, while on your part
you, of course, make no charge for the box the
bird is sent in, and you should mention it need not
be returned. Of course, if you are giving away a
bird you would pay the carriage yourself; this is
altogether different from selling one.

It is necessary to part with your young birds if
you mean to keep your old ones, and one does not
like to let the old favourites go; but it has cost
rather an effort to me sometimes to part with even
my young birds. However, one must be practical.
It is important above all things not to overcrowd
your aviary. And then there is the side to con-
sider that the nesting birds ought to help to pay
their own corn bill, and you will find if you keep
a number of birds that this and other expenses
come to a good deal in the year.

I am afraid I keep my birds in rather a lazy
fashion; that is to say, I neither feed nor clean
them out myself, but have it done for me by two
of the gardeners, George Merrills and Willie
Shelton, who take great care of their small charges
and are very kind to them. At first I used to do
all myself, but as my aviaries increased the work
got too much for me, and as they are some way
from the house I found it trying work: in the winter
time. So now I only do the general looking after
my birds, and such small things as grinding up
biscuits, mixing seeds, packing birds, etc., but
even this takes a fair amount of time. I have
never made my aviaries pay, but, on the contrary,
they are rather an expensive hobby, for when
wages and food are to be considered, it does not
leave much for buying new birds, and many a
tempting offer I have had to refuse, for I will not
sell my old favourites to buy new ones.

I have told you how to send a bird away, so now _
I will just tell you how to receive one. If you
expect a bird late at night, get it a cage all ready,
with clean sand and seed and water in preparation.
Do not turn out a tired bird straight away into
your aviary just at roosting time. Everything will
be strange to it; perhaps it may be weak and
cramped with travelling, and your own birds,
having each their particular roosting place, will
probably give the strange bird a hard welcome.
It is much better to put the newcomer into a cage
for the night, letting it have a light just to get a
good feed before it settles. Do not frighten it
more than you can help; for instance, put your
seed and waiter in the cage before you put in the
bird, so that you may not alarm it by putting your
hand in the cage after it is in.

If it is in winter you might stand the cage near
the fire a little, and after the bird has fed move
it back, cover the cage with a cloth, and let it rest
in quiet till the morning. Don’t let any children
or dogs and cats come near the cage. The bird
has gone through enough.small nervous shocks in
the day without adding any fresh ones. The
railway porters here are very kind, and if a bird
arrives out of delivery hours they will send it down
by special messenger at a small cost, so that it is
not kept waiting at the station till morning. When
turning out a new bird into your aviary, watch
it carefully the first day or two to see if is not ~
molested. A bird that arrives looking sickly
should be kept apart, as the illness might be
infectious, and in any case it needs extra care and
quiet.

Never send a bird away, nor have one sent to
you, on a Saturday or at Bank Holiday time.
Friday night, too, is a very bad time for birds
travelling, so it is well to choose some other day
if possible.

Several times I have had importations of birds
from abroad, and with the exception of one lot
they travelled very well. The sender of the birds
should write at least the mail before, telling you
the name of the boat they are coming on and the
address of the Shipping Company. You will then
write to the latter telling them of the expected
arrival of the birds and asking them to at once
put them on rail (after they have been fed and
watered), and, having done so, send you a tele-
gram giving the time of the train’s departure.
You will, of course, enclose the prepaid telegram”
in your letter, and also a stamped envelope asking
the Shipping Company to reply as to whether there
are any charges on the birds, and also to send you
the address of the man who has had the care of
them on the voyage. This is generally the
butcher, and when you have got his home address

PACKING AND SENDING AWAY: NURSING. 31

you will send him a
gratuity, the sum depend-
ing on how many birds
he has had charge of,
their condition on arrival,
and the length of the
voyage.

I have always had the
birds sent to me in large
heavy crates, the front of
wire netting with muslin
underneath; and so I
arrange for a light dray to
meet them at the station, and walk them slowly
down to the house to avoid undue shaking. In
shipping birds an ample supply of food to last them
on the voyage should always be sent with them.
I once heard of a case where numbers of little
Gouldian Finches died on board ship, really from
starvation, because too little seed had been sent
with them.

Some dealers pack their birds very cruelly. I
once had nine little birds sent from a distance
without a drop of water in the cage—five were
quite dead. Another time some tiny Fire Finches
were sent in a shallow box far too large, and with

PASSERINE DOVE.
Photo Mr. H. Willford.

VIOLET DOvVEs.

mo perch at all—either one or two were dead. It
males one’s heart ache to think how the poor little
mites must have been bruised and shaken on the
way, with no foot-hold in the box, and handled by
porters who possibly were too hurried to always
heed to keep the box steady. I would go so far as
to say, don’t deal with any dealer (who should
iknow how to pack birds properly) who sends his
birds out like this. If he neglects them in leaving
him, he probably neglects them whilst with him,
and I could not rely on such a man sending me
‘good birds.

A few tools, such as a saw, hammer, screw-
-driver, pincers and plyers (in one), a pricker, and
a box of mixed nails should be always kept down
in the aviary. You will often need them, and soon

learn to use them. I always fit up my own travel-
ling boxes, and can now manage to saw a piece of
wood straight, or to hammer in a nail without
knocking my fingers.

And now I come to my last notes, namely, how
to treat a bird in sickness.

As well as your tool chest, keep a stock of simple
remedies in the aviary. (This is where the little
seed-room shelves come in so useful.) Glycerine
for colds, a bottle of Branalcane for roup,
vaseline for wounds (which should be bathed
first with water if possible), olive oil for
egg-binding, and a little bottle of brandy—a tea-
spoonful will do, just to have it handy in cases of
collapse, where loss of time means loss of life—a
little clean rag and cotton wool, and a bottle of
“New Skin” (a kind of liquid court plaister), and
Syrup of Phosphate of Iron for a tonic for delicate
birds; one or two soft camel’s-hair paint-brushes,
some quill toothpicks, a strong pair of nail
scissors, a flat hot water bottle, some small pieces
of flannel, and, last but not least, a hospital box
to put sick birds in.

The latter is my own idea. For long I had been
dissatisfied with a cage for sick birds. With so
large a bird as a dove the door of an ordinary-
sized cage seemed far too small to pass the bird
in and out of, and the fright of catching it over
and over again did more harm than the.remedies
did good. You cannot have a sick bird loose in an
aviary when you want to catch it several times a
day, and, -besides, the other occupants might «
molest it.

So I bought a clean, empty box, to be kept just
for invalid birds. It is about 20 inches x 14
inches and 12 inches high. Be sure the wood is
smooth inside and that there are no strong
splinters. If you wish to be perfectly safe, tack a
strong paper lining inside, but I do not think it
is really necessary. Fix a broom handle perch
across the box an inch or so from the bottom. Do
not sprinkle sand on the floor, it might get into
the bird’s eyes or into any wound, but fold some
pieces of brown paper just the size of the bottom of
the box, and put a fresh one in every day, sliding
it under the perch. A piece of wire cage fronting,
rather larger than the top of the box, forms the
lid, and simply rests on the top—it is not fastened
down in any way. I think perhaps a wooden
frame covered tightly with strong string netting
of a small mesh would make a better cover than
the wire one, as there would then be no fear of a
bird knocking its head if it jumped upwards. 1}
will tell you later on how I use this box, but will
now go baclx to the uses of my simple remedies.

For a Slight Cold.—A few drops of glycerine in
the water fresh daily. Afterwards some Syrup of

(es)
Ne

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PiGEONS.

Phosphate of Iron given also daily in water. This
is a splendid tonic for a weal or ailing bird.

For Wounds.—Sometimes a bird will get its
head nearly scalped, its forehead knoclxed, or its
shoulder butts, scraped raw, with flying against the
wire. ‘

Wash the wound clean and dry it gently, then
smear on a little vaseline or ‘‘New Skin.” The
latter is an antiseptic, and dries in a few momenis
after being applied, forming a coating over the
wound. Care must be taken to cleanse the place
first or you only seal the germs in. It smarts very
much at first, but has a soothing feeling later.
The bird should be held till the application has
dried. ‘
Roup.—This is a most dangerous and infectious
disease. I have found Bleeding Heart pigeons
especially liable to it, and have also had one case
of a delicate young Bronzewing that caught the
infection and died. A bird suffering from roup
may, for the first few days, look as if little ailed it,
but a close observation will show the bealkx slightly
open, and on examination you will find one or more
small whitish growths under the skin inside the
mouth and throat. If these are not removed and
the afflicted parts dressed they quickly increase in
size and fill up the throat till the bird dies of
suffocation. .

I once had an outbreak of roup amongst my
birds (though they were in an heated aviary), and
at the time it started I knew of no sure remedy.
I thought that to try and remoye the growths only
was but to torture the sufferer; further, I did not
care much for handling a bird with roup. I have
read that blood-poisoning may in this way be con-
veyed to human beings if there is any scratch on
the hands. I did nothing for a fine cock Bleeding
Heart, and hoped against hope he would recover.
He seemed fairly well for over a week, but had
increasing difficulty in swallowing food, and one
morning was found dead. The next bird attacked
was a hen, and later two other hens. JI felt I could
not bear to see my little flock of nine Bleeding
Hearts die off one by one, so put my feelings on
one side and searched for a remedy. I found in
one of my “‘bird’’ newspaper-cutting boolss a letter
taken from The Feathered World advising Jeyes’
Branalcane, so I got a bottle and found it a
splendid dressing, and all three birds recovered.

I removed the growths first. The pared and
blunted cedar end of a camel’s-hair brush males
a very good’ instrument, a clean piece of rag
should be placed handy, and a pot of water to drop
the growths into as they are removed (as they
must be burnt to prevent the infection spreading) ;
a few drops of Branaleane should be poured out
into a second pot to paint out the mouth when

it has been cleared. It
is any easy operation to
do by yourself if you
get all your things ready
first. The bird is held
firmly in the left hand,
the beak slightly prised
open with the wooden
end of the brush, and
then kept in this
position by pressing the
tip of the beak against
the first finger of the
left hand. If the growth is far back tilt the bird’s

head rather backwards. The thumb should be
round the neck, the second finger acts as a perch
for the bird’s feet. Don’t try to do too much at
once—give a few moments’ rest now and then.
When. finished, dress with Branalcane with the
brush, washing it out well afterwards.

I gave the affected birds a few drops of phos-
phate of iron daily in their water as a tonic, and
of course kept them from the healthy stock, not
in another aviary, but apart in cages.

Starvation.—This seems a strange thing for
well-fed birds to suffer from, yet it is not un-
common where a number ef birds are kept in one
aviary. Perhaps through the winter they agree
well, then with the oncoming of spring one coclx
will turn a tyrant, and unknown to you may keep
a shyer bird from the food till it loses flesh and
becomes very weak. You will easily discover the
mischief by noticing if any bird seems hiding
away. Probably on your driving it out the
aggressor will advance, and the sufferer quickly
retire again, telling its own tale of fear. The
remedy is obvious—remove the bird to other
quarters, or, better still, keep it for a time by itself
and give a tonic in its water; and to prevent a
recurrence spend a few minutes each day very
quietly watching your birds, standing quite still,
and not just ‘looking round” the aviary and going
out again. You will find you may learn very much
even from one day’s observation, and the birds,
losing their fear of you, will be seen under natural
conditions. oe :

Egeg-binding and Constipation.—Warm olive oil
is the simplest remedy. for either of these ‘distress-
ing complaints. Fortunately, doves very seldom
suffer from either. For egg-binding, blow up the
feathers gently and let a drop or two of oil soak
into the inflamed part, letting it drop gently off
your paint brush. Also paint the surrounding
parts, but be careful not to soil the feathers with
oil. Tale a little of the warm oil in the toothpick
(having first rounded its end) and, carefully open-
ing the bird’s beak: a little with the toothpick, let
the oil run down the throat. Keep the bird in the

Dwarr TurtLe Dove.

NURSING. 33

hospital box on a bed of hay in a warm place,
and let her be very warm and quiet. The treat-
ment for constipation is the same as for egg-
binding.

Cases of Collapse.—Nothing is better than a
little very wealx brandy and water given with the
toothpick, but only give a drop or two at a time
or the bird might choke through being unable to
gets its breath. You will probably need more help
than this. Keep the patient in your hands, for the
live heat will help to restore it, and if your aviary
stove is going, heat several pieces of flannel by
laying them on the top (being careful they do not
scorch), and wrap round the sick bird.

As fast as one flannel cools get another off the
stove and put your cold one to re-heat. In this
way you have a constant succession of warm
cloths. Do not get the flannels too hot; I mean,
do not hurry the restoring of the bird—let it come
gradually and naturally. Remember it is in a
very wealz state, and if you apply too strong
remedies you may finally quench the little sparlx of
life left in it. It is wonderful how far a bird may
collapse, and yet live. J have had birds cold,
unconscious, and limp, and yet they have come
round. If you have no stove (though I think every
large wooden aviary should have one), or if it is
in summer, when there is no fire on, you can heat
the hot water bottle, and, placing the bottle inside
the hospital box, lay the patient on it, wrapped
in flannel.

. Over-grown Beaks and Nails.—These usually
come either in very old birds, or in weakly young
ones. In both cases they must be trimmed, and
here your strong nail scissors will come in handy.
Hold out the bird’s foot as I described whilst you
were ringing it, and clip the nails off firmly, being
careful not to cut into the quick, a little pink line
that runs down the nail.

It is easy to cut a bird’s claws by oneself, but it
really needs two people to shorten a beak. Have
someone just to hold the bird for you, then with
your left hand hold the head steady, putting your
hand over the bird’s head, with a finger resting on
each side of the beak. Shift your fingers a little
forward, gradually forcing the bealk gently open,
then firmly grasp whichever half of the beak you
want to clip, and cut it with your right hand.

Be sure and do not cut it into the quick. It is
better to take off too little at the first snip, and
then to cut off a little more, than to take off too
much straight away. Round off the corners nicely,
and try the beak closed to see if the two parts fit
properly over each other. Don’t hurry, take your
time over it, and hold the bird’s bealx firmly, or it
may twist it.

When you spend a quiet ten minutes, standing

quite still amongst your birds, you may notice far
more than in many a hurried look round. The
birds will soon learn to tale no notice of you and
will lool on you as a friend, and not as a natural
foe. It is at such a time as this that you must
keep a sharp look out for such things as over-
grown beaks and nails. Passed unnoticed, they
may mean starvation in the one case, through
inability to pick up the food, and a broken leg in
the other—as indeed was, I believe, the cause of
death in one of my Violet doves years ago—
through the nail catching in a branch, and the
bird not being able to free itself, for some over-
grown nails grow quite hooked and curved.
Fits.—I have only known this happen once or
twice amongst my doves. Generally it is brought
on by shock or fright. In one case the bird rolled
over and over, and then went stiff and rigid. I
dashed cold water on the head, gave it a very little
to drink, and put it in a darkened cage and, of
course, kept it away from the other birds to ensure
great quiet. This is where a passage or spare
space in an aviary comes in so usefully. It can be
turned at once into a hospital, besides many other
uses. Ina few hours the bird was quite restored.
Tumours on the Head, and Affected Eyesight.—
This is a terrible disease, and fortunately: rare
amongst doves. Possibly in the pigeon I am
speaking of the mischief was started by the bird
knocking against the wire netting. I do not mind
attending to small hurts in my birds, but to cut
open a tumour was more than I could face, so I
sent away the bird to a skilled operator, who has
most kindly operated on birds for me at various
times. He told me the operation was very easy.
You simply cut a slit in the skin with a penknife,
when the tumour will be found, not adhering, but
loose underneath, lilke a little white pea. I believe
the bird had several tumours removed in this way,
one so close to the eye as almost to press on the

eyeball. The operation was most beautifully done,
not a scar left, and the head, which was all
swollen, became a proper shape again. Before,

the face was a mass of lumps under the skin,
making the bird’s head lool a peculiar shape, but,
strangely, the plumage was never affected, but
always smooth and glossy.

I do not know if the tumours were partly the
cause, but some time later this same bird’s eyes
began to fail. Little by little his sight went, till
at last he was so blind he could not see to rise
from the ground. Then his strength began to
fail, and also that sure sign of weakness in a dove,
a contraction or crookedness of the toes, as if the
circulation were weakened, began to show. _

I put down a bed of hay and some food and
water near, and thought I had better leave the

D

34 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.
bird to die. I dreaded catching him, and remedies the bird is quite comfortable and a safe prisoner;

seemed useless; but he looked so piteous—listening
on all sides and turning his sightless eyes to try
and locate the sound—that I had not the heart to
leave him to his fate, though I had little hope of
cure.

I got some boracic lotion, the formula of an
oculist, and with this lotion in a little warm water
I bathed the Rufous pigeon’s eyes, at first three
times a day, after some weeks’ treatment only
once. In one eye the sight was well recovered ;
the other eye was much better, but there was a
small ulcer on the eyeball, which made it not so
satisfactory as the first. One curious feature was
the change of colour in the eye. When in health
the eye of a Rufous pigeon is like a living ruby,
but gradually in my sick bird the colour faded,
and the eye became quite pale; but it recovered
the colour almost perfectly in the best eye, and
the other one improved.

When first I began the bathing both eyes were
closed and so terribly swollen was the head that
its shape was quite distorted, the eyelids standing
out as if peas had been forced under the lids.
Gradually the swelling disappeared, altogether on
one side and nearly on the other. Most fortu-
nately, the bird could always eat, though how it
found its food I don’t know. It is a good plan
when you put a blind bird in your hospital box
to place its seed in a shallow dripping tin (a fair
size), and stand the patient im it. It will feel the
food then, and if it has any intelligence will learn
to pick it up.

Now in doctoring birds a little thought is needed,
both to save yourself trouble and the patient pain,
and as knowledge only comes from experience and
this is written chiefly for beginners in aviculture,
it will perhaps not be quite wasted space to tell you
how to nurse a case of this kind. First, before
you catch your bird, get all the things you want
ready on a table. You need a small clean pot
partly filled with lukewarm water (cold water
would chill the eye too much), and to this add
about a third more of boracic lotion. To bathe the
eye use a small piece of medicated cotton wool,
and when bathing do not touch the eye, which will
be very tender, just squeeze the lotion over it.

When the bathing is done press the wool dry
and with it mop up any drops that may have fallen
on the feathers. Be sure, and this is important,
to use fresh lotion and water, and fresh cotton
wool, every time you bathe the eye; don’t make
an old lot do twice.

Hold the dove in your left hand, against your
side, the thumb over the shoulder, the first finger
round across the breast, while the second finger
acts as a perch for the feet. Held in this way

it cannot get away, and its right wing being
pressed against you secures it on that side.

A man has more advantage in this than a
woman, having a larger grip and firmer hand.
But with care and practice I find it quite easy to
manage by myself. In bathing the eyes don’t
hurry. If the bird begins to try and jerk after a
bit, let it have a few seconds’ rest to quiet down,
then start again. Don’t let the lotion run into
the beak if you can help it; if you hold the bird
rather inclined downwards there will be less risk
of this happening.

I have spolren of a “hospital” box to put sick
birds in. In the case of this Rufous pigeon, it
lived for some time in this box, for, of course, it
needed catching many times, and could not have
been caught up each time from the aviary, and
also it had to be kept in the shade on account of
its eyes. I want to tell you now how to manage
to get your bird in and out of a box like this, and
make it fresh and clean without having anyone to
help you, and without distressing the bird.

First fill a duplicate pot with seed and another
with water, and put them handy where you can
easily reach them, or if the bird is not nervous,
take out the old pots and replenish them first.
The wire lid to your box must be quite loose, made
of firm, heavy wire and just laid on the top, not
in any way fastened down, as you want to slide
your arms under it when catching the bird. In
catching use both hands, and get the thumbs well
over the back, keeping the wings down. You can
manage to get the patient out of the box quite
comfortably by raising the lid with your arms
when you have once caught the bird. It only
needs a little practice, and I did everything by
myself for this special bird for weeks. When you
have finished bathing the bird’s eyes, hold it firmly
against your left side, and with your free right
hand put the ‘‘hospital’”’? in order before returning
the patient. Take out the paper from the floor of

the box, turn up the box and knoclk any seed or-
bits out, put in your fresh paper, sliding it under

the perch, and put inside the box the fresh seed |

and water. It is all quite easy to do this with one
hand, provided you make your preparations first.

When you have done this, replace the wire lid.

on the box (the lid should be slightly larger than

the top) before you put back the bird. You can ~

now raise the lid with one finger, and with both
hands carefully place the bird, its back towards
you, on the perch, when it will be probably quite
quiet.

You may think all these little details un-,

necessary, but if you try to replace the patient with —

one hand it will most likely struggle, and if you

try to put the bird in fixst and the lid on after-

%

NURSING.

7

wards, the bird will probably get away whilst you
are doing it.

To ensure further quiet, I sometimes put a clean
empty sack under the lid, over half the box, to
make a quiet corner for the poor invalid. A great
advantage in having a stove in your aviary is its
value in sickness, for warmth means so very much
to any sick bird. In the winter months, when the
nights are long and dark, and the patient would
die if left so long unable to see its food, I think
it is better to keep a lamp burning, but, of course,
not letting its full rays fall on the cage to disturb
the patient.

Broken Limbs, etc.—This is not an accident that
often happens, but if it should tale place it is well
to know what to do. I always prefer, if possible,
to handle a bird alone, but in the case of clipping
beaks and setting limbs you need someone to help
you, because you must have both hands free and
the patient steady. I once had a very bad break,
high up in the thigh, of a Bar-shouldered dove’s
lee. It was caused by a Conure, and the leg
dangled like a bit of string. You need some cotton
wool, a splint, and some thread or very narrow
tape. Your splint can be made from part of a
‘wooden match or, what is perhaps better, the split
half of a quill pen, because it fits round the leg
if the break is in the featherless part; otherwise
it would not have any advantage over the match.

Hold the bird’s leg in the position it would
naturally be, and gently put a strand of cotton
-wool between the leg and the splint, so that there
is nothing hard actually touching the leg; put on
the splint over this, and over this again, right
round the leg, some more medicated cotton wool,
and bind all round firmly with the thread or tape,
but do not put it so tight as to stop the circulation.
Be sure and have your splint a comfortable length
—ascertain how long it should be before you start
operations. When finished put the bird in a large
cage without perches, a bed of hay on the floor,
and food and water within easy reach. In the case
of the Bar-shouldered dove the leg knit together
very firmly, and it only slightly stuck out a little
(though the bird used it very well), as, unfortu-
nately, I did not set it perfectly straight.

Another case I had was that of a broken beak in
a little Rufous dove. The top half was just hang-
ing by a thread of skin, and it could not eat its
seed in consequence. I plastered the beak over
with numbers of strips of court plaister cut very,
very narrow and of only a short length, so as not
to impede the action of the beak in any way. The
dove rapidly began to recover, and in a short time
could hold the seed and swallow it. Then, most
unfortunately, it gave the beak a fresh knock
when I was not by, and lost the injured part

G2
OV

entirely. I could do nothing for it then, and
finally it died. I was terribly disappointed, for I
quite thought it would have recovered, and it was
such an interesting case.

I have never had a broken wing, but I have had
several knocked wings, that somehow renders them
stiff and useless. I do not think anything can be
done for this form of accident. The bird will
never fly again. All you can do is to fix it a low
perch, a few inches from the ground, across the
corner of an aviary, so that it may not be com-
pelled to keep on the ground. This is bad for any
bird—the cold, damp, and frost will soon ruin any
bird’s feet. Bleeding Heart pigeons keep much
on the ground, and now and then their feet suffer—
that is the chief reason why they must be brought
in for the winter.

I once had a bird that got mortification in its
feet. The flesh turned black, then dropped off,
leaving the bone of the toes bare. Finally these
broke off (just as I was trying to screw up my
courage to amputate them), and the foot became
almost a stump, but the bird seemed otherwise
unaffected. Don’t fix up any slanting branches
for your wing-crippled birds to climb up. If you
do they will some day be startled, fall, and injure
themselves, because their wings cannot save them,
so they fall heavily.

And now I have got to the end of my story
about my birds, though if I could tall to you for
ten minutes I could tell you a lot more, and per-
haps explain it all better than in writing.

If you once start keeping birds, the love will
probably grow on you, and your own keen

interest in your pets will teach you more
than any book. Keep a note-book of their
doings all the year through. Not only will

the nesting dates be a help, but you will
find your log books very pleasant reading when
what is now the present has become the past.
Make your birds as happy as you can by personally
thinking .out all you can for their comfort, and
by encouraging those who have the care of them
for you to love and study them too. Remember
you have taken away the best gift a bird has—its
free life—by keeping it captive. You owe it some
care and consideration for this.

I save my birds’ prettiest feathers, and keep
them in my desk in the passage. Some day I
think I will mount them, placing each group
between two sheets of very thin glass, not too
large, and binding the plates round, after the
manner of a lantern slide, adding the name of each
bird the feather came from. But this is one of the
things I think I shall never have time to carry
out.

36 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

In the same deslx is my birds’ ‘‘Visitors’ Book,”
where all who come to see my birds record the
date, their name and address, and the bird they like
best. It is interesting to keep as a remembrance,
and to see which birds are the most popular. I
think the Bleeding Hearts are an easy first now
that my Masked parraleet ‘“‘ Dick,’’ the dearest
and most loving bird I ever had, is dead.

I owe many kind friends my very grateful
thanks for the generous help they have given me
in writing this book. My birds have brought me
many friends, not only in England, but in far off
lands. Some of these friends I have corresponded

No. 4 Aviary.

with for years but have never met, perhaps that
may be a pleasure in store in the future, one can-
not tell.

Bird keeping—for love of the birds—is a hobby
to be in every way encouraged—it not only gives
us pleasure, but does us good also—for surely the
old words are still true, that

He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small.
For the dear God who loveth us—
He made and loveth all.

I feel I cannot close this portion of my little
book with fitter lines.

CHAPTER IV.

SUB-FAMILY TRERONINAE.
(Vinago Delalandet).

FRUIT PIGEON.
(Vinago Delandez).

Habitat.—Eastern and southern Africa, from
Mombasa to Kaffraria and inland as far as the
Nyassa.

Length.—About 12 inches. In shape, strongly
built, but rather clumsy.

Colouring.—Bright grass green, with a dark
purple patch on each shoulder:
green head, washed with grey
and purple, thighs and under-
parts bright canary yellow. The
basal half of the beak scarlet,
the remaining half light slate
colour. The eyes light blue, the
feet and legs scarlet.

WILD LIFE.

Mr. T. Ayres writes of this
bird: “I found these handsome
pigeons somewhat scarce in the
Magaliesbergen in winter; but
my brother tells me they are
exceedingly plentiful there during
our summer months when wild
fruits abound; they are found
in densely foliaged trees, keeping
very quiet if anyone approaches;
and often one may walk quietly
right under the trees where they
are, when they dart out suddenly,
generally one at a time. They
are sometimes solitary, but often
in small flocks: Their food
consists entirely of small
berries.”

During Mr. Jameson’s expedition to the
Mashona country this species was procured on the
Umvuli River in August and September; it feeds
on the wild fruits which the Boers call the Moople,
the tree of which is handsome and darls-foliaged,
and grows here and there along the banks of the
river. The pigeons are also very fond of an insipid
wild fig, about the size of a walnut.

Another writer, Mr. Swynnerton, also speaks of
this pigeon as being generally found feeding on

the wild fruits and figs; it seldom descends below _
the upper branches of the trees. He mentions the

fact that there are two broods reared in the year,
young birds being brought to him in October, and
eggs being found in January. The nests are very
frail, made of sticks, and built about 1o ft. from
the ground, usually in the large wild fig trees
scattered about the open country.

|
E
:
|

TRIANGULAR SPOTTED PIGEON.

ie)
“I

Other writers make the following notes on this
pigeon: that it is partially migrant, “‘its appear-
ance and disappearance being coincident with the
ripening of forest fruits and berries;”’ it is said
to be very difficult to observe when in the fig trees,
its plumage being much the same colour as the
leaves. The eggs are white, and two in number.
The cry of this pigeon ‘‘is a soft whistle; the flesh
is tender and of a delicate flavour.”’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

Of fruit pigeons I have only kept two kinds,
and neither of them for very long. One was a
large black and white pigeon, with feathered feet,
from Australia (probably a White Nutmeg or
Torres Straits pigeon), the other a beautiful
specimen of Vinago delandei sent direct to a friend
of mine by her brother out in Africa.

My friend had no aviary, and, as ‘“‘Chibwana”’
was ailing, she asked me if I would take the bird
and see if I could bring it round. She told me that
he loved to be kept where the firelight fell on him,
evidently thinking it was sunshine, and would
now and then make a curious whistling sound.

“Chib” arrived here one snowy day, and I did
my best to nurse him back to health, but all in
vain. It was evident he was not well, and at first
he seemed disinclined to eat, and was very shy
and nervous; instead of walling he hopped about
in rather a clumsy fashion. He could eat nothing
but boiled maize, though I tried chopped apple,
dates, and figs. For a time he seemed better, and
- then again worse, and I decided, as it seemed a
case of kill or cure, 1 would give him a course of
pigeon pills and tonic (though doubtful how they
would suit a Fruit pigeon). For a time the bird
greatly improved, and was a most docile patient
to nurse, but I think I started his cure too late,
for he died at the beginning of April; had his case
been taken in hand sooner perhaps he might have
recovered, but to handle a sick nervous bird often
does more harm than good, and should not be
attempted unless the need is great. A specimen
of this beautiful pigeon was presented to the
Zoological Gardens in 1892. I do not think any
of the Fruit pigeons should be considered hardy.

Mr. Swynnerton, who kept this particular Fruit
pigeon in captivity in Africa, says of it, ‘‘They are
stolid birds these in my aviary, even when freshly
caught, allowing me to approach quite close before
moving, and merely staring stupidly, though quite
evidently in fear. The call is a piping ‘‘Kureti,
Kureti, Kureti,’”’ followed by a harsh ‘‘Kurr-rr.”’

TYPICAL PIGEONS.
(Columbidae).
The Triangular Spotted Pigeon.
The Spotted (or Spot-winged) Pigeon.
‘The White Crowned Pigeon.
The Rufous Pigeon.

TRIANGULAR SPOTTED PIGEON.
(Columba guinea).
Habitat.—West Africa, from Senegal to Angola,
and across Central Africa to East Africa, from
Uniamnezi to Abyssinia, Sennaar, and Kordofan.
Length.—About 13 inches. Shape, very strong,

rather upright carriage.

Colouring.—Principally dark ash grey, the neck
reddish, the tips of the feathers being bifid. The
wings are covered with white spots, triangular in
shape, giving the bird a very distinctive look.
There is a patch of bare red skin round the eye,
the iris is also red, and so are the feet and legs.
The sexes are very much the same in colouring,
but the cock is rather larger and thicker looking
than the hen; her spots on the wings are duller
and smaller, and the naked skin round the eye not
so large. :

WILD LIFE.

Dr. Hopkinson tells us that the Triangular
Spotted pigeon is known in Africa by the name of
the Rhun pigeon from its fondness for building in
the tall Rhun palms, and that the bird is only
found in these parts where this palm tree grows.
This pigeon is particularly common on McCarthy’s
Island and the district round it; the note is a long
drawn out ‘‘Ku,”’ followed by a series of shorter
ones—Ku-ku-ku-ku.

Von Henglin says that this pigeon frequents
forests, mountains and plains, houses and ruins; it
builds on the roofs of buildings, and in Abyssinia is
the common domestic pigeon; it also nests in the
Dolib palm trees. The Triangular is seen either
in pairs or small flocks, feeding upon the roads or
in the stubbles, and coming in the evening to drink
at the pools; it breeds in our winter. We are also
told that in its wild state this pigeon is very
destructive to crops, and a great pest to the
farmers, only leaving the fields when they retire
to roost in the woods and rocks.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have only kept two specimens of this hardy
pigeon, and found both my cock and hen very
harmless towards other inmates of the aviary; but
they are too large birds for anywhere but a roomy
place, and this is the chief reason why I have
ceased to keep them. At the time I had my birds,
some years ago, they were worth about 20/- a pair,
but they have gone down in price, and lately I saw
some offered for sale for almost less than half this
sum, whilst a pair in rough plumage were
only 7/6.

The late Mr. O. E. Cresswell wrote in January,
1907 (in describing a visit to the Jardin D’acclima-
tation in Paris), that the Triangular Spotted
pigeon is ‘‘seldom to be met with in England, and
then far too dear.*” There were several specimens

38 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

in the Paris gardens, and our own Regent’s Parl:
collection possessed a bird (or birds) as far back as
1865. Young ones were bred there in 1885 and
many times since. My own birds never nested.
The coo of the cock was most peculiar, almost like
the barking of a small dog.

THE SPOTTED OR SPOT-WINGED PIGEON.
(Columba maculosa),

Habitat.—South America, Uruguay, Argentina,
and Patagonia.

Length.—About 14 inches.
built, strong and upright.

Colourving.—General colour grey, the shoulders
and upper wing coverts greyish brown. The upper
part of the wings are covered with buffish
triangular spots, showing very distinctly against
the darker background. The bill is grey, the feet
red, and the iris is light slate or whitish. There
are no iridescent feathers on the neck, but over
this portion, and the head and throat, is a faint
purple-pink bloom that is very pleasing.

Shape, very finely

WILD LIFE.

There is not much to note as to the wild life of
the Spotted pigeon. Dr. Butler tells us it is very
destructive to the crops in its own land, settling on
the fields and eating the wheat before it has had
time to sprout, and as the birds go about in large
flocks much damage is done by them. It is said
to feed largely on lucerne in its wild state, and
many young shoots have been found in the birds’
crops. The coo consists of five long drawn-out
notes.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have not kept this pigeon for very long myself,
so can give you no nesting notes about it. I con-
sider it a very handsome bird, for though the
colouring is not bright, yet it has a very
harmonious and striking effect, which is shown off
by the bird’s fine shape and carriage. Though of
large size, I have found it very harmless towards
other doves—seeming to be more nervous than
aggressive. The Spotted pigeon was first kept at
Regent’s Park in 1870, one specimen being pur-
chased in that year. It was bred there in 1894 and
many subsequent times since. The Duchess of
Bedford tells us that two pairs of these pigeons
were nesting out of doors at Woburn in 1907 so
early as February. One nest contained eggs, the
other young birds, and both nests were built in
Araucaria trees. The old birds had been turned
out some two years previously. The value of the
Spotted pigeon is about 20/- a pair.

THE WHITE-CROWNED PIGEON.
(Columba leucocephala).

Habitat.—Greater Antilles, Bahamas, and
Florida Keys; also Santa Cruz, St. Bartholomew,
Cozumel Islands, and the Coast of Honduras.

Length.—About 14 inches. Shape, rather long,
but finely proportioned.

Colouring.—The general colour of the adult
male is leaden grey, the back being a rather deeper
shade than the breast. The crown of the head is
white (extending just below the eye), bordered be-
hind with grey, the nape deep maroon; the collar
below is very handsome, being metallic bronze-
green, changing in different lights, each feather
being bordered by an edge of black like velvet.
The naked skin round the eye is white, and the eye

W HITE-CROWNED PIGEON.

Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avisuliural Magazine.

itself pale buffish white, while the eyelids have red
edges; the bill is greenish white, with carmine
cere. The feet are dull red. The hen is smaller
than the coclz, her colouring duller, and the crown
of her head greyish.

WILD LIFE.

Shaw tells us that this pigeon feeds largely on

the berries of the sweet wood; and resides amongst
the rocks, where it is found in great numbers. He
adds that the bird is very good eating when it has
been feeding on certain plants, but at other times
the flesh is very indifferent,

In that delightful bool of Gosse’s on Jamaica
birds he also mentions that in the months of

I AND 2.—SPOTTED PIGEON.

3.—SPOTTED PIGEON AND BRusH BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
4.—Rurous PIGEON AND BLEEDING HEarT PIGEON.
5 AND 6.—WHITE-CROWNED PIGEON.

7.—WZHITE-CROWNED AND CRESTED PIGEONS AND SENEGAL DOVE.

40 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

September and October the flesh of the White-
crowned (or Baldpate) has an ‘‘exquisite flavour.”’
This bird feeds largely on berries, and so many as
thirty pigeons were observed eating on one tree.
They feed twice a day, early in the morning and
late in the afternoon, flying often over 20 to 30
miles of sea to the feeding grounds. The White
Crowned breeds in thousands on the many little
islands, returning to the mainland to feed.
The nest is built in bushes, about 3 or 4 feet
from the ground, and is flimsy in structure. The
general time of nesting is in June, and in August
shooting parties go out to destroy the birds.

Mr. Bonhote mentions that this pigeon is not met
with in winter in the Bahamas, but whether they
are migratory or hide in the thickest bush he does
not know. In Cuba the White Crowned is said to
be a resident species and very common. It
frequents the forests throughout the year, and
collects in large flocks when the berries are ripe;
being gregarious, many birds will nest in the
same tree.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The White Crowned pigeon is a very fine
imposing-looking bird, but too large to be kept in
a small aviary. Mr. Seth-Smith found it very
wild, even a male bird bred in captivity in Jamaica,
catching the wild fever from the hen. I have only
kept a few specimens, but cannot say I found this
the case; but all birds vary, and I fancy some of
my White-crowned pigeons, though sent to me
from their own country, had been kept in aviaries
before. The friend who sent me them said that
one of these birds was so good-natured it would
even let a tiny Passerine dove try to bully it,
the White-crowned regarding the little mite’s
onslaughts with good-tempered indifference. One
of the chief beauties of this handsome pigeon is its
lovely neck, which always reminds me of the scales
of a mackerel. Against its snowy crown and rich
leaden-grey body the effect is very striking, and the
fine upright carriage of the bird adds to its noble
appearance.

Although Mr. Seth-Smith’s birds were so wild
they soon started to nest, the first two nests each
containing one egg, which in both cases hatched,
the young birds being deserted when a fortnight
old, and subsequently dying. The two eggs of the
third nest were hatched under tame pigeons and
shared the same fate, the foster parents declining
to go on feeding just when the young White-
crowned were nearly able to fly.

' After so many disappointments it is pleasant to
read that three young ones were reared later, the
first nest (with one young bird) being built in a
quiet corner in some faggots, about 4 feet from the
ground. This bird was very wild, the two later

hatched ones being not quite so timid; these latter
were evidently a pair, for one was darker than the
other and had a lighter cap. The first reared
young bird was nearly as large as its parents when
it left the nest, and was a dirty brownish-grey all
over; there was no white on the crown, though
it was a lighter shade than the rest of the body.

In the before-mentioned ‘‘Birds of Jamaica’’
Gosse gives a most interesting account of some
White-crowned pigeons that he kept when quite
young birds. He says they were both ‘‘exceed-
ingly ugly; long-necked, thin-bodied, the head not
well rounded, the fleshy part of the beak promi-
nent, and its base unfeathered. The whole
plumage was blackish ash coloured, each feather
slightly tipped with paler, and the feather of the
head terminating in little curled grey filaments,
which added to the uncouth appearance of the
birds.’”

These pigeons became very playful; they were
kept in a large packing-box that had been lined
with paper, and this they delighted in stripping
off with their beaks, or in pulling at the threads
in a darn in the gauze front of their cage. One
would pretend to rob a White-fronted dove of some
orange pips (that were specially put down for the
latter’s benefit), but would drop them again if he
succeeded in getting one. This White-crowned
would always take a grain of corn from Mr.
Gosse’s hand, even if he did not eat it, and would
seize his finger, when he put it through the gauze,
and try to play with it most vigorously, sometimes
quite inverting the head. Mr. Gosse noted that
his birds cooed much towards the end of the year,
and often during the night, especially in January,
when the winds from the north raged about the
house.

The White-crowned pigeon was kept at the Zoo
in 1865, and bred there the following year and
many times later. The price of an imported pair
is about 20/-.

THE RUFOUS PIGEON.
(Columba Rufina).

Habitat.—Guatemala, down to
Guiana, Brazil, Ecuador, and Peru.

Length.—About 12 inches. Shape, long and
heavy, with rather short thick legs. ;

Colouring.—Adult male—Forehead purple, back
of crown and upper neck rich metallic blue green,
lower neck purple (the line between this colour and
the metallic blue-green being very clearly defined),
upper breast purple, the upper wings and shoulders
red purple, the lower wings olive, the long
wing quills blackish, back and rump dark grey,
tail blackish grey. The lower breast rather lighter

Columbia,

THE RUFOUS PIGEON. 41

purple, the thighs and underparts light grey, the
feathers on the thighs coming low down on the
legs. The beak lead colour, the feet light crimson,
the eye very rich ruby-red. The hen is much the
same colour as the cock, but has very little red-
purple on the mantle or shoulders; she is more
olive-brown, and her lower breast has a brownish
wash over the purple; her forehead is a lighter
purple than in the cock.

WILD LIFE.

The Rufous pigeon seems to vary in numbers in
its wild state according to the time of year when
the fruits are ripe or otherwise, as it feeds largely
upon them. When this food is plentiful itis said
to be common in the forests in Brazil, where the
natives know it under the name of Gallega. Mr.

* Underwood, in an article in the Ibis on the Birds
of the Volcano of Miravalles, says this pigeon is
“one of the most abundant pigeons of Miravalles.
Of an afternoon one would see numbers of them
conspicuously seated on the highest branches of
the trees standing out in relief against the sky.”

Mr. Loat, another writer, tells us that ‘‘the wild
fruits attract the common pigeon (Columba rufina)
sometimes in great numbers; they are generally
fat and make good eating.’’ Again, Mr. Sclater
speaks of the Rufous as ‘“‘common but very shy;
found in the deep bush, feeds principally on the
ground.’’ While still another account of the bird
says, “Common in the forests of the lowlands,
“feeding in large flocks amongst the fruit trees.””

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I think it was in 1905 that a pair of these most
beautiful pigeons were sent over to me, amongst
_a number of other doves, from Jamaica. They had
been used to aviary life, and had reared one young

one in captivity already. If I remember rightly,
I understood that this pair of doves—their name
then- unknown to both the sender of them and
myself—had been sent to Jamaica across in a boat
from the mainland, from a little place called
Barranquilla. ;

This place was noted for its Panama hats, and
many thousands of pounds worth of hats left it
every year, the people paying for what they
required in hats instead of coin.

I was so unfortunate as to lose my old cock after
some time; he was not ill long, and as I was
going away the day after I first noticed he was not
well, I decided to catch him and give him some
medicine, as I did not like my birdman to have the
responsibility of doing so whilst I was away.
Whether the medicine did not suit him, or possibly
being caught frightened him, I do not know; but
the bird got worse instead of better, and in a few

hours died. He seemed to suffer from something
wrong with his breathing, and afterwards seemed
partially dazed, but as I did not have a post
mortem on him, I do not know the cause of death.

Before this cock died the pair had reared a fine
young one—the first, I believe, to be bred in Great
Britain—for they had begun nesting within a weelx
after landing in England. This young cock was
now almost as large as his parents, and at the time
of the old bird’s death a second young one only a
few days old was in the nest. This younger bird
fell out of the nest a day or two later, and was
picked up cold and almost dead. To my surprise,
after a time, the warmth of my hand revived it,
and finally, under the care of some Barbary doves,
it grew into a fine bird. When nearly full grown,
however, it died from some unknown cause.

This left me with only the old hen and the young
cock. They nested and several fertile eggs were
laid—I must tell you the Rufous pigeon lays only
one egg at a sitting, the egg being large and white
and rounded at both ends, though oval in shape—
but after a time the young cock began to suffer
from lumps or tumours in his face; up to then he
had been particularly strong and healthy. I had
this bird operated on, and treated it myself (of
which I have already told you in the chapter on
sick management), and for a time it quite
recovered; but in 1908 I lost it. In its younger
days this bird had two fits at long intervals, but
rest and great care restored it.

My friend in Jamaica had still the odd Rufous
pigeon that the old birds had bred before they came
to England. At first he thought it was a hen,
but finding it was after all a cock he very kindly
sent it to me. It was a very fine bird, and last
year I nearly bred another young Rufous pigeon.

The birds started nesting, not for the first time,
in June. I supposed it hatched on June roth, as
an eggshell was found on the floor. On June 24th
the young bird was still invisible, but the old bird
looked risen up on the nest. Four days later, on
going down to the aviary, I found both the parents
off the nest and the young bird caught in the
branches. [I rescued it and put it back in the nest,
when the old bird returned to it. I took some
notes at the time of the young one’s plumage; it
would then be about 17 days old. Its general
colour was slate-grey with a reddish tinge on the
wings; the back of its head and tail were all
quills (of unburst feathers), giving it a very strange
look; the head was rather small, the legs thick,
the feet large. It seemed helpless but healthy, and
was very ugly.

Again next day it was rescued in the same way,
and after this it appeared to fairly settle down in
the nest. About July 2nd its quills disappeared

42 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

from its head and tail, making the head lool
larger. Two days afterwards it roosted outside the
nest, closely guarded by both birds; the day after
it roosted still further from the nest; by now, when
over three weeks old, the young one was very much
the colour of its parents, only the shades were
fainter, and its eyes were dark.

Four days afterwards the young bird came down
to the ground, in the morning. I had to watch it
carefully and put up some protection at night, for
it continued its misfortunes by getting into the
birds’ bath. It remained on the ground to roost,
and this seemed to trouble the old birds. At this
time its eyes were still dark, the grey on the head
was now defined at the back by a fine line.
Whether the hot sun affected the bird or not I
don’t know, but it did not seem nearly so strong
as when it was in the nest, and its head began
to shake, apparently from weakness, a very bad
sign in a young bird. Even by July roth, when it
was a month old, it made no effort to feed itself.

Meanwhile the old birds had made a nest of fir
twigs they had snipped off the fir boughs; the hen
laid one very small egg, so I took all the nests
down. The young bird lived a few days longer,
and died whilst I was away from home. I still
have the old pair, and they have nested several
times this year (1910), but the eggs seem unfertile,
though both birds are in lovely plumage, the bloom
on the purple of the cock and the blue-green on
his head being exquisite; the culminating point
of his beauty being his brilliant ruby eyes, which
are like real jewels. The hen is as fine in her own
way, but she is not so regal as the cock. My
friend in Jamaica has had no more Rufous pigeons
sent him, but I believe they have had some quite
recently at the Zoo, and that last year they success-
fully nested. Several had been kept there many
years ago—as far back as 1867.

CHAPTER VY.

FAMILY PERISTERIDAE.

The Martinican (or Aurita) Dove.
The White-winged Dove.

The Madagascar Turtle-Dove.
The English Turtle-Dove.

The Barbary Turtle-Dove.

The Half-Collared Turtle.

The Deceptive Turtle-Dove.

The Damara Turtle-Dove.

The Dwarf (or Ruddy) Turtle-Dove.
The Necklaced Dove.

The Senegal Turtle-Dove.

MARTINICAN (OR AURITA) DOVE.
(Zenaida Aurita). ~

Habitat.—Martinique and other of the West
Indian Islands, also in South America; the Lesser
Antilles, St. Croix, also Jamaica.

Length.—About 11 inches. Shape, short, plump,
and upstanding.

Colouring.—Adult male—Head, back, and wings
chestnut, quill feathers of wings blackish edged
with whitish, irregular black spots (edged with
white) on wings; neck, very beautiful iridescent
purple and golden-green, two metallic dark blue
marlss on cheek, one directly behind the eye, the
other lower; chestnut throat, fading into pale
purple vinous, under-parts and under tail feathers
pure white, upper tail feathers chestnut and blaclk;
feet crimson, iris black, very full, round, and dark.
The hen is very like the cock, but rather smaller,
her neck not so iridescent, and the breast less
purple-pinlk.

WILD LIFE. :

The Martinican, or, as I prefer to call it, the
Aurita Dove, is very common, though so beautiful,
and may be found in abundance in Jamaica (where
it is known as the Pea Dove) and also in South
America, the latter birds being more brightly
tinged than the Jamaican ones, being the reverse
in this respect of the little Passerine dove. Gosse
says that the Pea Dove is very timid, frequenting
the vicinity of water more than any other variety
of dove in Jamaica, and that when the bird flies
the flight is very rapid and ‘“‘performed with a
peculiar whistling of the wings, by which it is at
once recognised, though unseen.’’ The Aurita
feeds on various fruits and seeds; pimento-berries,
orange-pips, hop-seeds, castor-oil nuts, physic-nuts,
maize, and the smaller seeds of the pasture weeds.
The flesh is white and juicy and considered good
eating when in good condition. On one occasion
the Pea Dove has been known to feign a crippled
wing to lure intruders away from the nest. The
nest is a loose platform of twigs, no leaves being
used, and is often built in an orange or a pimento
tree.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Aurita Dove is a special favourite of mine
in spite of his tyrannical ways over others of his
tribe. I am afraid this is a very common fault of
this dove, and that my old coclx is in no way excep-
tional in his behaviour. He is still one of the
finest birds I have; in plumage and condition
simply perfect, and yet I have had him some 12
years, and he was adult when I bought him with
his hen. This was in 1898, and I believe I gave
about 16/- for the pair. Only very few specimens
were in England then, and I got my pair of birds

wee = 32%,
Cot
She

6

2, 3.—AuRita DovEs. 4.—ENGLISH TurRTLE Dove.

5, 6.—Barpary Doves.
7.—BARBARYS AND ENGLISH TuRTLE Dove.

8, 9.—WHITE-WINGED DOVES.

44 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS, ~ ,

through the kindness of a friend, who showed me
several of these doves as something rather un-
commen.

My old cock began early to show his character.
I shall tell you in the accounts of the Necklace and
the Picui doves how he bullied first one and then
the other. Once he met his match, and that was
in the cock Bar-shouldered dove, who was a
perfect tyrant, though smaller than some of his
opponents. My Aurita carried his perverseness so
far as to wish to retain the monopoly of the trap
cage (that I had set in the aviary to catch some
birds) for himself and his wife, refusing to allow
the other doves to enter it—which, as he was not
the bird I wanted to catch, was rather hard on me
as well as on them.

My first hen died in 1903; she had been in bad
health for some time previously, and had diseased
feet. In the same year I bought a second hen.
She is one of the ugliest birds I have ever seen,
for she must at some time (before I had her) have
had a terrible injury to her head, for there is a
great piece of bare skin above her eye that will
never have any feathers on again whilst she lives,
and it gives her face a rather drawn and distorted
look. But I would not change her for the most
beautiful hen bird you could give me, for she is
the most faithful little nesting dove you could
desire. She never tires of her eggs, and her chief
idea about her babies is not to drive them early into
the world—as is the idea of so many doves in bring-
ing up their young ones—but to keep them by her
as long as she can, brooding and caring for them
whilst ever they need her.

The consequence is that when the young
Auritas really leave the nest they are able to fly
well at once, being several weeks old, and never
look behind them. J have one out now at the time
I write, a perlxy little bird just like the old cock in
colouring, except that as yet he has no bronze
neck; his breast is a pale brownish shade, not the
pretty pinkish tinge it will have later on, and the
white spots in the wings are not so conspicuous,
nor his chestnut quite so deep a shade; except for
these few details the young bird is very like the

old birds in colour, even to the markings on the

wings and the black lines on the face, which are
plainly showing.

It was a pretty sight to see the hen on the nest,
and a very black-eyed nestling peeping out, warm
and comfortable, from her feathers. At last I
think he got too large to be brooded, and then his
mother sat by his side.

Although Gosse’s book on Jamaica birds was
written so many years ago, the little ways of the
Aurita dove, that he so well describes, remain the
same to this day. He notes how they have a habit

of “jerking the head by quickly shortening and
then lengthening the neck, immediately and invari-
ably followed by a flirt upward of the tail; this
action my captives were perpetually performing at
intervals of a few seconds when not walking.”
You would be amused to see even my young one
just out jerking his little tail in a most approved

and upgrown fashion; he might have been prac-_

tising it ever since he left the shell.

Another point about the Aurita which Gosse also
notes is its restless ways, but it should be noted
his doves were only kept in a cage, and this makes
a world of difference. He says the birds walked
rapidly about the cage floor all day long, invariably
wallxing over each other rather than deviate from
their course. I have had several private consign-
ments of doves sent me in long crates from
Jamaica, and find this restless way of birds (even
trampling over each other) is very general; but
I think if Gosse had loosed his birds in an aviary
he would have found them behave differently. I
put down this habit of wandering to two causes—
a desire to find a way of escape, and a great dread
of being inspected by human beings at too close
quarters.

The Aurita has a way of sobbing and moaning
when it is caught that is most curious to hear; it
is like a child or animal in distress. It does this
whilst held in the hand, and any one might think
who heard it that the bird was being put to the
greatest torture. I only know of one or two other
kinds of doves who have this trait, and none of
them are so noisy in their imaginary distress as the
Aurita.

This dove was lxept at the Zoo in 1873. It has
often been bred and frequently imported; the price
is about 16/- a pair. It is very hardy and stands
the cold well.

WHITE-WINGED ZENAIDA DOVE.
(Melopelia Leucoptera). ;

Habitat.—Southern border of the United States,
from Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and Lower
California, southward to Costa Rica and the West
Indies.

Length.—About 11 inches.
tioned and shapely.

Colouring.—A soft drab, and whitish on the
under-parts, the long quill feathers in the wings
dark brownish black; when the wing is in repose
a very decided band of white runs along it, from
which the bird evidently derives its name. On
the neck is a lovely gold and purple sheen, very
beautiful when seen in the sunlight. Below the
ear is a small slanting black mark. The eyes are
bright orange surrounded by a patch of slky-blue
skin, which greatly adds to the bird’s beauty. The

Shape, well propor-

WHITE-WINGED ZENAIDA COVE.

45

feet are bright crimson, the beak black. The hen
is the same colour as the cock, but there is not so
much sheen on her neck, and she is slightly smaller
in size.

WILD LIFE.

The White-winged Zenaida Dove is one of the
commonest birds in the West Indies. It feeds on a
kind of small bean, rather like a wild pea. This
plant is very common, and grows as a bush, cover-
ing many acres.

We are told by Gosse in his ‘‘Birds of Jamaica”’
that the White-wing lives in flocks of 20 or 30, and
when flying the birds go in a body like tame
pigeons. They feed on the seeds of the castor-oil
plant, the orange, and the physic-nut, and are very
easily taken in springes baited with orange-seeds.
Sometimes only the foot is caught in the noose,
when the bird will not struggle, but occasionally
one is caught by the neck; and Gosse tells of one
instance where a poor White-wing cut its head off
with giving a sudden jerk when it felt itself
caught. The black natives are not humane in
their trapping of birds, nor does their suffering or
injury when caught arouse their pity. They will
set their traps and not visit them for days, quite
careless of the fact that the poor prisoners may be
injured as well as starving. When the rains fall
the White-wings leave the open country and take
to the woods and morasses. They are said to
build a very fragile nest in the pimento, orange,
and seaside grape.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

In June, 1901, about 50 White-winged doves
were imported to England; they were said to have
come from Egypt (which was obviously an error),
and were sold under the name of Pecunia Doves.
I bought a pair for 15/-, and though the birds were
newly imported, they were in good feather and
condition. The cock, however, unfortunately
injured himself on the journey, for he arrived with
the crown of his head covered with dried blood,
and besides this, one side of his face quite pushed
in, giving him a most curious look, as if the face
were on one side. Strangely enough the eye was
uninjured. I can hardly think this latter hurt was
of recent date, for the bird did not seem greatly
affected by it.

About the middle of May the birds began to nest.
‘Two nests were failures, both being deserted, and
one, if not both, contained fertile eggs. During
this time the cock was very bad tempered towards
the other doves in the aviary, never really hurting
them, but chasing them about. Towards the end
of June a third nest was made, and this time the
birds sat well. On July oth I found an empty

eggshell on the floor, and a few days later could
see the young ones in the nest quite plainly.

They were very pretty—soft drab with brown
eyes; the white band on the wings, and also the
white in their tails, was very decided. By July
zand, being then about a fortnight old, the first
young one left the nest, followed a day or two later
by the second; both seemed rather wealx on their
feet. However, they both survived, and by August
ist stayed out of the nest altogether. When they
first appeared they were 7 or 8 inches in length,
and very long and slender in shape. Both birds
grew very fast, and soon were nearly as large as
the hen, but slimmer. They were rather darker
drab than the old birds, and had no blue skin round
the eye nor sheen on the neck; the eyes were dark
brown, and in one young bird I could just see the
dark mark coming beneath. The feathers round
the eye were whitish, and a wash of pale chestnut
came below the eye, merging on to the throat.
The feet were pale flesh colour, the beak light
pinkish.

When the White-winged cock attacks another
bird he does so in the same manner as the Barbary,
lowering his head until it is in a straight line
with his body and then charging the offender.
Once only (as far as I remember) have I had a
dove of this size killed outright by another. I was
so tired of the aggressiveness of a coclk White-
wing and a cock Crested dove that I put these two
pairs together, thinking one would be the master,
and the other would settle down, and all the rest
of my little dove community would benefit. An
hour or two later I came down to the aviary, and
was aghast to find my White-wing cock laid on the
aviary floor dead; he seemed to have only had one
peck just between the neck and shoulders; he was
a splendid specimen, and in spite of his bad temper,
a great favourite of mine.

At the time the White-wing nested I had three
other pairs of doves that all brought up young ones
during the season in the same aviary. These were
Bleeding Hearts, Necklaces, and Senegals, and
the aviary was only 16 x 6} feet in size. The
wonder is that any of them bred in so crowded a
space; two pairs of birds were quite plenty, at the
very most three, but with the latter number one
could not hope for much success. Nowadays I
keep far fewer birds together, and am sure it is
much the wiser plan if you want them to do well.
The White-winged dove was kept at the Zoo in’
1874. It is often offered for sale at the present
time, the usual price being about 16/- a pair. It
is very hardy and stands our climate well, Just

lately I have seen it offered for so low a sum as
7/6 a pair.

46 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

THE MADAGASCAR TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur Picturatus).
Habitat.—Madagascar. ‘It has also apparently
been introduced into the surrounding islands,
namely, Réunion, Mauritius, Seychelles.
Length.—Between 11 and 12 inches.
strongly built, but well proportioned.
Colouring.—Dark grey head, paler on the chin;
mantle and upper neck rich maroon purple, faintly
speckled with small dark spots; upper wings
rufous brown, lower half of wings olive brown,
long wing quills blackish with lighter edges, lower
back olive brown also. Breast light vinous, under
parts whitish, under tail feathers black and white,
upper tail feathers brown. Beal light grey, basal
half pinkish grey. Eye rich ruby, naked skin
round ye dark red, feet crimson. Hen very
similar to the male, but smaller and duller.

Shape,

WILD LIFE.

These doves are said to be very common in
Madagascar, where they are found in the planta-
tions and cultivated fields in small flocks of 6 to 8.
They wall well, and fly rapidly without noise, and
can turn quickly if pursued. They make great
ravages in the rice fields, both at the time of sow-
ing and harvest, being largely grain eaters. The
nest is flatly and roughly made of grasses and
small roots, and is placed in low-growing trees.
The eggs are white, and two in number. This
dove is said to be good eating, the flesh being very
delicate.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have kept the Madagascar Dove for only a
year or two, and have not so far reared any young
ones, though the birds have had several nests and
laid eggs. My present pair of birds sit very
steadily indeed for a time, and then without warn-
ing will desert the nest. Yet you would think
when they first began to sit that nothing would
move them, they sit so closely. To Mr. Newman
belongs the honour of first breeding the Mada-
gascar dove in Great Britain.

He considers it the least graceful of any Turtle-
dove he has seen, the tail being relatively short
and the legs rather long, whilst the bird’s body is
a very sturdy shape. The notes of this dove are
varied, one, its fighting note, consisting of a sort of
grunt, whilst its coo proper is one of ‘‘considerable
sweetness,’’ the bird drawing himself up very
straight, and then bowing low to the ground as he
utters it. The eggs are large for the size of the
bird. Two eggs, deserted, taken from my own
doves vary very much in shape, one being oval
(with one end rounded, the other end slightly
pointed), the other egg being very round and full,

shorter than the other and with scarcely any point
at the one end.

Mr. Newman’s birds built their nest of quite

strong twigs, making a very firm nest; they sat
well, and the young when hatched were covered
“with bright yellow down, almost reddish fawn
on head, back, and outer edges of wings.’’ The
first young plumage, after the downy stage, is very
different from the parent birds, for they lack the
vinous
grey, with the feathers edged with chestnut, the
chestnut tips to the wing feathers forming two
distinct bars across it. There are no dark marks
on the neclx.
another aviculturalist had a “greenish tinge’’ to
the plumage, but this was not visible in Mr.
Newman’s birds. At eight weeks old the eldest
young bird had many purple feathers on the
shoulders, and the chestnut edges to the feathers
had greatly faded.

The old birds proved excellent parents, the hen
hitting out with her wings if the nest were too
closely looked at, and if obliged to leave it she
would flap her wings and try to draw observation
from the nest by pretending to have injured her
legs, dragging over the ground as if she was hurt.
It is unusual for a captive dove to act in this way,
though frequently done by some species in a wild
state.

This handsome dove was first kept at the Zoo
in 1866. It seems hardy and able to stand the cold
well, always looking ‘‘tight’’ in feather. I have
found my birds rather inclined to be aggressive
to other species of doves, but Mr. Newman found
his birds fairly amiable; but it would be unfair to
judge on my part from one or two specimens, for
birds differ in their characters as much as human
beings.

Since I wrote the above my birds have hatched
one young one, and look like rearing it. It is
about half the size of the adult bird and still in the
nest, the hen sitting on an egg, newly laid, in the
same nest. When I went to inspect the nest the
other day (the old bird being off it) the young bird
raised itself on its legs and made a most curious
noise at me—a sort of hissing sound. It looked
exceedingly strong and healthy, but was the ugliest

young dove, I think, I have ever seen, the down on

it being so very hairy. ‘

The old birds have so far been splendid parents,
and I have seen the little creature’s bare crop
(before its skin was so covered with down and
feathers), looking so very full that it hung like a
bag at the side of the necl:, and the wonder was
it was not killed with kindness; it looks like
making a very fine bird.

purple almost entirely, being brownish

The young birds bred later by ©

3
FE
4

PO) Pt ai Bee Be, |

| a aS 4

I.—SENEGAL DOVEs.

*2.—SENEGAL DOVE SITTING.

3-— SENEGAL, WHITE-WINGED DOVES, AND CRESTED PIGEON

4 AND 7.—Ruppy (OR Dwarr) TurtLes.

+5.—Hyprip Dove (NECKLACE AND SENEGAL).

6.—NECKLACE DOVES AND INDIAN GREEN-WINGED DOVE.
: 8.—MabaGascaR TuRTLE Doves.
* Photograph by Mr. H. Wellford. + Photograph by_Mr. T. H. Newman, F.Z.S., M.B.O,U.

48 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

ENGLISH TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur Turtur).

Habitat.—Western Palaeartic Region; Africa in
winter as far south at least as Shoa, and Asia as
far east as Yarkand.

Length.—About 11 inches.
proportioned.

Colouring.—Adult male—Head, nape, wing-
coverts, rump, and flanks, soft bluish grey. On
each side of the neck a collar or large patch of
black feathers with ashy-white edges. The baclx
pale brown; lower back, rump, and upper tail-
coverts brown, more or less ashy; chin nearly
white, throat and breast vinous, changing into
white on the under-parts. The wings are chiefly
brown, each feather having a broad cinnamon
edge, giving the wings a beautiful laced. appear-
ance; the quill feathers of the wings brown edged
with a lighter shade; the centre tail feathers are
brown, the remainder greyish black and white.
The feet are red, the iris reddish brown, the skin
round the eye red. The female is rather smaller
than the male, and the plumage less bright and
pure.

Shape, very well

WILD LIFE.

This beautiful little dove is migratory, arriving
in England early in May and leaving us again in
September for Southern Europe and Africa. Two
eggs are laid, the nest being built of twigs,
generally in a pine or beech tree, seldom in a bare
exposed situation. There are two or three broods
in the season (which is from May to August), and
the young ones are hatched in about 17 days. In
its wild state the Turtle feeds on “‘corn of all kinds,
and the seeds of coniferze, alders, beech, and other
trees.”’ It is said even to eat acorns and small
snails. Just before migration these doves gather
in flocks in the open fields. Though common in
England, this dove is rare in Scotland or Ireland.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

My first pair of Turtles were bought in 1898, and
a few weeks after I procured a second pair; these
last were said to be ‘“‘mouth reared,’”’ but though
finer and older birds, they were never so tame as
my first pair. These two birds were named
“‘Tamie’’ and ‘“‘Dot,’’ and it was only some time
afterwards that I found I had mistaken the cock
for the hen. They were very tame, and the hen
“‘Tamie’’ specially loved to nestle in my hand to be
petted. They nested and laid eggs, but from
various causes I never reared any young ones.

I often stood quite close to the nest, and one of
the birds would come on my hand for a few hemp
seeds, and when it had had its share would change
places with the sitting bird in the nest, and let it

come for its share of hemp too. They did it all
very seriously, and it was very pretty to see the
eager impatient lool of the dove in the nest if the
other seemed rather longer than usual, or taking
more than its due share of hemp.

Once ‘“‘Jamie’’ was very ill, she vomited some
colourless fluid, and two days later laid a soft-
_shelled egg; a second one laid was quite normal.

Dr. Greene considered that the Turtle-dove nested i

in captivity with more readiness than any of the
English doves; but though he notes that the birds
are good parents, yet when ready to nest again he
found them very cruel to the first brood, driving
them about and otherwise maltreating them.

The young birds of the year are browner than
their parents, the rufous edgings to the wing
feathers are broader and duller; there are no dark
patches on the sides of the neck; the throat and
breast are pale ash. I once saw a Turtle caught
in Herefordshire, and was much struck with its
general vinous shade as compared to my own
birds. The cost of a pair of Turtle-doves is from
5/- to 7/6. These doves were first kept at the Zoo
in 1863, and were bred there in 1878. A pair
presented in May, 1880, were caught at sea,
probably perching on the ship to rest when tired
out.

THE BARBARY TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur visorius).
Habitat.—Southern Europe, Western Asia and
various parts of Africa. It has so long been
domesticated in England that its original habitat
has become rather uncertain.
Length.—About to inches.
but well proportioned.
Colouring.—General colour biscuit (though
individual specimens vary, and some are quite a
pale cream shade). The long wing quills, and
rump and upper tail feathers are greyish drab.
Under parts and under tail feathers white. Black
collar, slightly edged with a narrow white line
above, round the hinder neck. The beak lead
colour, feet crimson, eyes rich orange-red. The
hen is practically the same colour as the cock, but
a little smaller in size and not so thickly built.

Shape, rather long,

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Barbary or Laughing dove, so called from
its peculiar coo, is so domesticated in England that
little is known of its wild life, all specimens being
aviary-bred in this country. It is a dove that is
easy to keep, and to breed; also, it is long-lived,
and will live happily either in an aviary or in an old
soap box converted with a little wire netting into
a cage. I have known some people, however, who

THE BARBARY TURTLE DOVE. 49

consider that if they keep Barbary doves the poor
birds are certain to bring ill-luck to them. I do
not know from what cause the suspicion arises,
but I have met with it once or twice.

The affection towards each other between a pair
of these doves is very great, though with others of
his tribe the cock Barbary is apt to be quarrelsome,
especially when nesting. He does not fight so
much in the wing-striking manner usual in most
dove battles, but charges the enemy in a series of
hops, with lowered head, and a coo that is unmis-
takably a war-cry, and that as a rule strikes terror
into the heart of his opponent. Barbary doves will
get absurdly tame; they will let you handle them
and change their eggs, and will yet go on sitting
as if it was all part of the day’s work. I have
read of one bird that formed such an attachment
to an old lady that it would regularly every day
sit on a chair close to hers, and each afternoon both
of them would take a nap. One day when the old
lady awoke the bird was not on its chair, but
nestling on her head in the folds of her cap, and
was most reluctant to be removed, the cause being
discovered when it was found the dove had laid
an egg in what it evidently thought a very pretty
nesting site.

I have noticed before that birds have curious
ideas on this subject. We had a little pair of
Cordon Bleus that were often Jet out for a fly in
the room, and they were never tired of inspecting
one of the gas globes and considering its possibility
as a very suitable place for a nest.

Barbary doves are known to live to a great age.
A gentleman at Brighton, in 1897, had then living
a cock bird that he had had for 23 years, and that
was adult when he first had it. Contrary to most
of his kind, this particular dove was a confirmed
old bachelor and refused all offers of a wife.

Once I had a flight of over 30 Barbary doves
loose in the garden. I believe they were all bred
from one pair, and they used to roost summer and
winter in some large hawthorn trees near the
house, quite despising a dovecote near by, save for

_one single nest built in it. Twice a day, regularly
as clockwork, the birds would assemble at this
place to be fed. They all began to draw together
from different quarters as the feeding time drew
near, and being very punctual, if the proper time
came and their meal was a few minutes late, they
would fly down to the orchard, where they knew
they would probably find my bird-man working,
to remind him, and escort him back in triumph
to the feeding-place. The moment his steps
tended in that direction the doves would leave the
large Blenheim Orange apple-tree where they had
been waiting and form a joyous advance-guard
leading the way to the house.

After some time my little flock of doves began
to decrease, till only one solitary bird was left. I
fancy many were shot, as they were fond of doing
mischief in some allotment gardens not far away;
others were stolen, or killed by cats. We had one
tragic instance from the latter cause. A pair of
the Barbarys were nesting high up in the roosting
tree during the winter—for these doves will
nest all the year round—and the old cock, not
satisfied with one wife, went off after another. A
just retribution followed, the cock and the new hen
being both Iilled by a cat the same night. I was
very interested to know what the widowed hen
would do, for in doves the parent birds divide the
duties of sitting, the cock bird sitting on the eggs
by day, the hen at night. The love of birds for
their eggs or young is very strong, and this hen
sat bravely on through the cold and snow, and
ended in bringing off a fine young one.

Every spring I used to find deserted young doves
in the garden, and a great trouble they were to
me, for it is no use trying to get them adopted by
other birds, for when the poor young nestlings
run to a stranger for food their eagerness is only
met by indifference or possibly blows. So like
Pip in ‘“‘Great Expectations’” | had no course left
but to try and bring them up ‘“‘by hand,”’ a not
too pleasant task, and one that is not altogether
satisfactory in the case of young foreign doves less
hardy than Barbarys. These young doves are
cream in colour, but have dark eyes (which gradu-
ally change to orange-red as they grow older),
their beaks, feet, and legs are pale flesh-colour,
and they at first have no black collar.

Barbarys are not worth breeding from a financial
point of view; there is little demand for them, and
you may thinlx yourself fortunate if you can get 2/-
for a pair. I once bred some beautiful hybrids
between a cock British Turtle-dove (Columba
turtur) and a hen Barbary, and after I had parted
with one of these hybrids it bred again with
another hybrid, a Barbary Necklace. I have only
one stock pair of Barbarys now, and these I keep
for foster parents, for sitting on the eggs of rarer
doves that perhaps are bad sitters. Not that I
have ever had much success from this plan, but
it is pleasant to feel you have the birds there if an
occasion should arise, for if you had not got them
and failed you would be sure to think the failure
was due to their absence.

If they were rarer one should value Barbary
doves more, but to a true bird lover mere rarity
does not matter, and these doves are so pretty and
confiding—flying readily on your hand for crumbs
of biscuit, and letting you stroke them—that they
are a pleasure to keep as pets.

When her late Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria

E

50 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

visited Dublin in 1849, as the procession passed
under an arch in Eccles Street, a dove was lowered
into the Royal carriage. The Queen took the bird
gently in her hand and placed it beside her, amidst
loud cheers from the large crowd.

One more point about the Barbary and I must
pass on to another kind. It is an interesting
explanation I once read of that well-known verse
in the Psalms so fascinating in its imagery and
yet at the same time apparently hard to under-
stand. “‘Though ye have lien among the pots,
yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove that is
covered with silver wings, and her feathers like
gold.”” In Eastern countries the house roofs are
flat, and all the rubbish of the house and broken
pots—that we should dispose of right away—are
still carried up and emptied on the house roof, and
here the semi-wild Barbary doves settle in flocks to
find any stray bits of food. Suddenly a noise
startles them, and they rise and swirl upwards,
their feathers looking first white as silver against
the deep blue sky, then changing to gold as they
catch the sun’s rays. Now read the verse again
and you will understand what David meant when
he took this little scene from everyday bird life as
the rising of a soul from the darkness of sin into
light.

THE HALF-COLLARED TURTLE.
(Turtur semitorquatus).

Habitat.—\nhabits Africa from about 14 latitude
southward. Common at East Soudan and other
parts of South Africa.

Length.—About 12 inches.
and strong-looking.

Colouring.—General colour a rich vinous, pinker
on the breast and shading on the wings and back
to a browner tint. The forehead is whitish grey,
this being more distinct in the cock than in the
hen. A broad black collar, very narrowly edged
with grey above and below, encircles the hinder
part of the neck. The eyes are orange-red, the
eyelids red. The bill is black and the feet red.
The sexes are very similar in colouring, but the
forehead is not so white in the hen as in the cock.

Shape, very fine,

WILD LIFE.

Dr. Butler tells us it nests in the forks of
Acacias or sillx trees during and after the rainy
season ; it feeds on berries, grain, small seeds, and
stone fruits. Mr. Robin Kemp found it resident
throughout the year and very common in South
Eastern Sierra Leone. It assembled in flocks
of from 30 to 4o birds.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Half-Collared Turtle is a very fine, well-
shaped dove, but being large in size it does not do
in a small space. The colouring is very rich, and
a bird in good plumage is very handsome, the red
eye seeming just the touch of colour needed to
complete the harmony of the whole. It is a hardy
bird, and has often been bred in England. The
eggs are two in number, large and white, and they
hatch out in the short’ period of 12 days. The
young birds are very much the colouring of the
parents, but considerably duller, and lack the black
collar and the red eye. ‘The hairy down, so mixed
with the feathers in some young doves, is very
conspicuous in this species.

In March, 1902, I had a pair of these birds sent
me direct from Africa. They began to nest in May
of the same year and bred many times. When first
I had them they were excellent parents and good
sitters, but later they failed to rear their young
ones so successfully. JI parted with them, and I
believe they did just as well in their new home;
probably they had hardly sufficient space when
with me.

I found these doves a strange mixture of bold-
ness and timidity. They were constantly driven
about the aviary by a dove much their inferior in
size, and yet on the other hand they boldly beat
off with their wings my old Masked Parrakeet,
“‘Jack,’’ when he was climbing up to inspect their
nest, and he retired very discomfited. I have
found it does not answer to try and keep the parrot
tribe and nesting doves together. Amongst
parrots and parrakeets I have had three different
birds that were all egg-eaters or egg-destroyers,
and in one case I caught a parralkeet in the act of
eating a fat young Picui dove which it had robbed
from the nest.

My young HalfCollareds were some of them
very wild, and would dash about the aviary unless
great care was used. This is not a rare dove,
about 12/6 to 15/- will buy a pair, but it does not
seem imported very regularly. It was first kept
at the Zoo in 1870, and later bred there. In 1907
some Half-Collareds were included amongst the
five kinds of doves that were liberated in the
Gardens as an experiment, to see if they would
settle and breed there, but I do not know if this
particular kind did well or not. :

When sitting my birds were very devoted to
each other, and the one not actually on the nest
would lkeep guard over it continually. The birds
were much tamer whilst nesting. I found very
often only one egg was laid at a sitting, but I do
not know if this is the general rule or not. They
were anxious to nest all the year round, and the

THE DECEPTIVE AND DAMARA TURTLE-DOVES. 51.

hen still went on laying after the nest pans were
cut down for the winter.

THE DECEPTIVE TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur Decipiens).

Habitat.—East Africa from Dongola to the
Zambesi.

Length.—About 12 inches.
Barbary.

Colouring.—Adult male—Upper. parts pale
earthy brown, slightly reddish, anterior part of
head above ashy, changing into vinous on the hind
-part and nape. On the hind neck a broad black
collar, edged above with ashy white. Upper
breast a beautiful vinous, chin and throat whitish,
under parts whitish, but grey on under tail coverts
and lead grey on flanks. The tail is grey or
brownish, earthy-brown in the centre, some of the
feathers having narrow white tips. The iris is
buffy orange, the bare skin round the eye grey
tinged with pink, feet carmine, bill black.

Shape, rather like a

WILD LIFE.

This dove in various forms has a wide range
over Africa. One writer says of it that it is quite
one of the commonest doves in the Soudan, and
that it keeps much to the vicinity of the rivers. It
builds in the Acacia bushes, and the nest is lightly
built of twigs. One form of this dove was so
common and clustered so thickly on the trees that
five or six might be killed with one cartridge. The
pigeons were great drinkers, and the flocks used
to come down to the river morning and evening.

' When they returned at night “‘they would rise to a
great height, and circling round, plunge down
headlong, like our wood pigeons, into the trees
used as roosting places.’’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The same consignment of doves that brought
me my Tambourine doves and others from Africa,
in March, 1902, also included four Deceptive
Turtle-doves. Two of these I had the misfortune
to lose. The two others I kept until 1905, when
I parted with them. They were very handsome
birds, but very nervous, and one of the surviving
two twice had a fit. The first fit was brought on
by fright at the sight of a Long-tailed Glossy
Starling; perhaps its formidable tail may have
caused the dove to be alarmed. It flew against
the wires very badly, and rolled over and over on
the ground, and then went quite stiff. I dashed
cold water on it, and afterwards put it in a
darkened cage. Later on it had a second seizure,
but was all right by night. Nor to my knowledge
did it ever have another fit afterwards.

This dove has a most peculiar coo, it is scarcely
like the note of a bird and is more like a scream
from a cat. Mr. Newman (who later owned my
two birds) noted that this particular call was used
by both sexes, and was generally made when the
bird alighted on a bough, or was about to attack
an enemy, or sometimes when on the wing. The
other call, as when the cock was attracting the
hen, or when he was in the nest calling her, was
quite a different sound. My birds proved to be two
cocks, but fortunately Mr. Newman was able in
1906 and 1907 to procure two hens. These birds
came from Kordofan, and formed part of a collec-
tion of African birds gathered from the White Nile
for the Girza Zoological Gardens, Cairo. The
birds nested often, but failed time after time to
raise their young to maturity, that grave fault in
doves—neglect before the young can do for them-
selves—being the entire cause. The nest was
made of a thick mass of twigs, so high that some
of the twigs had to be cleared away to prevent the
eggs rolling off.

I have several times known doves do this or even
pile up another layer of material over the eggs,
and lay a fresh clutch on the top. The eggs of the
Deceptive Turtle-dove ‘‘are rather small for the
size of the bird, pure white, rather glossy and
round, though three laid in 1908 are rather larger
and longer in shape. The eggs generally hatch
on the 13th, sometimes on the 14th day after the
second egg is laid.” J cannot find a record of this
dove being kept at the Zoological Gardens. J have
only kept it this single time when it was sent
over by a friend. I have never known it offered for
sale.

You will notice in the description of this dove
that the feet are carmine. There is no exception
to this rule in any dove that I know—I mean that
the feet and legs are some shade of red or crimson.
It may range from crimson purple to the faintest
flesh colour, but it is always a variation of the
same shade. The Arabs have an old legend to
account for this. They say that the first time the
Dove returned to the Ark it bore the olive branch,
but gave no other sign of the state of the earth;
but on its second visit its feet were covered with
red mud, clearly showing it had walked on earth
already freed from the water. To record the event
Noah prayed that the feet of these birds might
ever continue red colour, and his prayer was
granted.

THE DAMARA TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur Damarensis).
Habitat.—Angola, Damaraland and East Africa,
from Transvaal to Mount Eglon, and also the
Comoro Islands and Madagascar.

CoV
iS)

MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

Length.—About 10 inches. Shape very like a
Barbary dove, but more slender.

Colouring.—Breast, throat and back of neck
palest shade of purple-pink. Top of head grey,
forehead and chin white, tail greyish brown, back
olive drab, shading into soft grey on shoulders.
Long wing quills blackish edged with fawn;
under parts and outer tail feathers white. Blaclx
collar (with narrow white edges) round hinder part
of neck. Beal dark slate, feet darlx crimson, iris
full and very dark brown, nearly black. The
general colouring is very pale, giving the bird the
look of a Barbary dove, but greyer, smaller, and
with dark eyes instead of orange-red ones.

WILD LIFE.

This pretty dove is the most common dove in
Damaraland and the country round about. It is
said not to be strictly gregarious, but we are told
“numbers are often found in close proximity both
on trees and on the ground, and rise in one flock
when flushed, producing a great noise by the rapid
concussion of their wings above their backs.”
“They seek on the ground for their food, which
consists almost exclusively of seeds. They build
in small trees, generally at the extremity of a
bough, constructing a nest of a few twigs, with
no lining of any kind. The eggs are two in
number, of a pure white. I have observed these
doves building on August 20th, and have found
their eggs abundant at the end of December, so
that it is probable they produce two broods in the
year” (from ‘‘The Birds of Damaraland”’’).

Mr. Swynnerton, on the birds of Gazaland,
Southern Rhodesia, tells us: ‘‘This is the common
dove of the mountains, is found in considerable
numbers in the neighbourhood of Kaffir kraals and
homesteads. It is extremely tame, and the
individuals frequenting my gum-trees come readily
to any food which may be thrown down. ‘The
call resembles the syllables ‘Ku-koro! lu-lxoro !’
often repeated, the middle one long drawn. The
birds in my aviary frequently call at night.”

The same writer notes how he heard one of these
doves calling repeatedly in the open bush (in the
Umtali district) in the dead of night. He further
adds, ‘“‘A curious courtship through the wires tool
place during July and August between a wild bird
and one that had been in my aviary many months.
In the low veldt I noticed this dove in some
numbers between Chimbuya and the Umtefu, and
again at Bimbo and Inyamita.”

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.
In March, 1902, I received a consignment of
doves from a friend in Africa. Amongst them

were four doves that proved to be Damara turtles;
three, I believe, were cocks, the fourth a hen. I

think it must be this dove that the late Mr, O. E.
Cresswell wrote of in The Avicultural Magazine
for 1896. He says, ‘‘There is a Dove largely im-
ported from Africa and sold under many names.
In plumage it is almost identical with the Barbary
turtle, though the neck ring is rather thicker at
the back and does not come quite so far forward.
In size it is slightly less, but the real distinction
is in the eye, which is large and entirely dark,
instead of having the brilliant red iris of the
Barbary turtle.”’

My pair of Damara turtles began to nest soon
after they came to me; this nest was only the first
of many, The hen laid clutch after clutch of eggs,
and sat well, but continually something happened
to the young birds, for as a rule the eggs were
always fertile; some few were broken, but
generally they hatched out and the young birds

died from neglect (after leaving the nest) as much

as from any other cause.

Hand-feeding was tried, but without success.
The young ones were very pretty, gentle-looking
little things, much more graceful than the
generality of young doves. Their colouring was
as follows:—Back dark grey, tail drab brown
(darker than the back), light fawn edges to the
long wing quills. Forehead and throat whitish,
shading into grey pink on top of head and breast;
under parts white, collar black, beak slate, feet
flesh colour, iris dark brown; the drab on the back
shading into grey on the shoulders, as in the adult
birds.

Though so gentle-looking, this dove is not
always very amiable. About a year after they
came I had to remove my birds from the aviary
they were in because they were so tiresome to the
eother inmates; later on the Damaras were in their
turn disturbed by some Senegal doves. One of my
young Damara turtles was murdered by a bad-
tempered Necklace dove who had a great dislike
to the old birds. This is the only instance I have
known where a dove has extended its hate of
another bird to its helpless young ones; the poor
little bird, strong, and healthy and just out of the
nest, was really pecked to death. I have ‘never
seen this dove offered for sale, so I do not know
its value. I sold my last two, however, for a few
shillings, though doubtless they were worth much
more; but in those days very little interest was.
taken in keeping doves in England.

DWARF OR RUDDY TURTLE.
(Turtur humilis).
Habitat.—North-East India. From Cachar
through Burmah to the Andamans, and eastward
to Cochinchina, China, and the Philippine Islands.

cai el

DWARF OR RUDDY TURTLE.

on
Los)

Length.—About 9 inches.
beautifully proportioned.

Colouring.—The adult male is vinous or brick-
red; the back, rump, upper tail coverts, under wing
coverts, and flanks grey. The head is a very
lovely shade of pale ash grey, a rich black collar
round the hinder part of the neck dividing the grey
from the red. The long wing quills are blackish,
the eye dark brown, the bill black, the legs and
feet purplish red. The hen is quite different to the
male bird. Her general colour is soft dun, the
lower parts vinous grey. There is a blaclx collar
as in the cock, but edged above with whitish grey.

Shape, long, but

WILD LIFE.
This dove feeds largely on the ground, either
in open fields or under the shade of the trees. It
frequents large groves in cultivated districts, and

Dwarr or RuppDy TURTLE.

Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avicultural Magazine.

is frequently caught and offered for sale in India,
but seldom finds its way to England, most of those
for disposal being aviary-bred. Jt is very difficult
to approach in its wild state, and keeps to the tree
and bamboo jungle.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The little Dwarf turtle is quite one of the nicest
doves to keep. It is so small and dainty, and the
colouring very charming. Imagine a trim little
dove with a soft grey head, a black collar, and
warm brick-coloured body, with black wing quills
and whitish grey tail, and there you have a cock
bird; and the hen is no less pretty with her
plumage of real ‘‘dove colour”’ and soft dark eyes.

It is such an advantage to be able to tell the
sexes easily, for as a rule doves are so much alile
that it is only after years that one can single out

the sex of a bird with fair certainty, and even then
there is sometimes a little doubt, for one may be
misled by the birds themselves. I remember two
Bleeding Heart pigeons that for long took me in
by their loving ways to each other, and at last I
found to my surprise that they were both coclxs.

The Ruddy Turtle was first kept at the Zoo in
1862, and two years later it bred there. It is an
easy dove to breed so far, but not so easy to rear’
the young ones to maturity; there is a world of
difference in getting doves to nest and getting
them to rear the young successfully. A large
consignment of Dwarf turtles was received at
Cologne in 1895; I have never known any
quantity offered for sale in England.

For some time I had to be content with two cocks
for which I paid about 8/- each; it seemed no use
hoping for a hen, for the natives did not seem to
send any over. But after waiting for some time
my chance came; a gentleman returning from
India brought back four hen birds, and wroie offer-
ing me them for 15/- each. I bought two, and
the other two birds were each sold to a different
owner. Out of the four hen birds only one (one
of mine), I believe, survived for long; the other
three died. So now it rested with my one little
hen to restore the breed of the Ruddy Turtle in
England, for I did not know of a single other hen
bird at that time in the country. My birds soon
nested and had some young ones, which I hoped at
first were hens, but I was doomed to disappoint-
ment—they were all cocks.

When the little doves are almost ready to leave
the nest they are very pretty indeed, so small and
innocent-looking, dun colour, like the hen, with
white foreheads, but without the black collar, and
with bright dark eyes, and light-coloured beaks,
like very pale flesh colour. After a time the collar
comes, but if the young bird is a cock the change
of colour in the plumage does not come till long
after the dark ring band has appeared.

Eventually I bred a hen bird, so having a second
cock I had now two unrelated pairs. From these I
was able to supply young birds to aviculturalists
all over the country ; these birds in turn bred again,
and the Dwarf turtle is once more established in
England, much to my pleasure.

The eggs are white and two in number. Latterly
the two pairs of birds I have now have not bred so
many young ones as they should have done. The
young birds do well till just out of the nest, when
the parents desert them, and probably wish to start
another nest again. In this case it is little one
can do for them, and the poor little things get
weaker and eventually die. This dove seems to
stand our climate well, and does not appear to feel
the cold. It breeds many times during the year,

54 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

=—

and I am’ inclined to think would nest nearly all
the year round if permitted. The colouring of the
young cocks is only very gradual, but should show
definitely by the end of the nesting season.

There is one point in the nesting of the Dwarf
turtles that I have not noticed in any other doves,
and that is the frequency of both birds leaving the
eggs whilst sitting. Time after time I have seen
both birds off the nest when I have known that
they have eggs, and yet the eggs almost invariably
hatch; it is quite the exception for them not to do
so. The eggs are small and white and rounded
at both ends.

In accident or illness the Ruddy Turtle is one
of the bravest little birds I know. Once a cock
bird that I still have almost scalped himself against
the wires—the top of his head was a terrible sight,
not merely grazed, but bleeding very badly. I
painted the wound (after bathing it) with ‘‘New
Skin,’? which is a liquid court plaister. It is a
most excellent remedy, but for a few moments
after being applied smarts most painfully, though
afterwards the feeling is a very soothing one. I
held the little dove all the time in my hand (till
the painting was dry) and he scarcely flinched and
never cried out, though the pain must have been
very great. The large wound healed splendidly,
and to look at the bird now you could not tell he
had ever received an injury, for the feathering on
his head is perfect.

NECKLACED DOVE.

(Turtur Tigrinus).

Habitat—Burma, Malay, Peninsula, Sunda
Islands, as far south as Timor, and the Moluccas,
where most likely it is found only during the
winter.

Length.—About 11 inches.
but not too slender.

Colouring.—Adult male—Head vinous grey,
greyer on cheeks and forehead. The back is darlx
brown, each feather being tipped with a buff spot;
round the back of the neck is a very broad black
collar all spotted over with tiny white dots. The
chin and centre of throat white, while the breast
is dull vinous, becoming paler on the under parts.
The feet reddish flesh-coloured, bill black, iris
reddish pearl. The long tail black, white, and
grey. The female is similar to the male, but
smaller and slighter.

Shape, rather long,

WILD LIFE.

Mr. Oates writes of the Malayan Spotted Dove
(which is very much akin to the Necklace, and is
sometimes sold as the latter bird) that it is
“extremely abundant over the whole province (of

Burmah). This familiar dove is met with in all

the open and cultivated parts of the province, and

also in small numbers in forests and dense jungles;
it does not, however, ascend the higher hills. It
feeds entirely on the ground, on seeds and grain.”
“Tt breeds almost all the year round, but chiefly
from August to March, making a flimsy nest of
twigs in low trees, bushes and bamboos, and
laying two eggs.” :

In “The Birds of Celebes’” we are told, ‘‘This
species is kept in cages, and much loved as a pet

in Sumatra and in the Malay Peninsula; in the

former country it is regarded as something almost
sacred, and absurdly high prices are demanded for
specimens, but Hagen seems to have found that
they were treated with less reverence in East
Sumatra, the males being kept for fighting
purposes.”

Davidson, writing from Tenasserim, describes it
as resorting to gardens, fields, grassy lands, in fact
wherever the country is open, sometimes singly,,
sometimes in pairs, small flocks or hundreds. It
feeds on seeds, rice, and other grains.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

This beautiful dove is also known in Germany
by the name of the Pearl-necked Dove. In the
year 1898, at the Palace Show, I bought my first
pair of Necklaces for 15/-. They were supposed

to be a pair, but I am not at all sure that the cocl:

was not a near ally of the Necklace dove, namely,
the Spotted Turtle. :

He was the most beautiful bird of his kind I
have ever seen, and his eyes, instead of being
orange, were a rich ruby red, and the buff marl-
ings on his wings were much more like “‘spots,”
being very round and distinct. When he puffed
out his neck to coo his fine collar looked almost
like a ruff. Amongst the many young ones I bred
none equalled the old cock in his markings. He
was sold to me as a Necklaced, not a Spotted dove,
and was said to be an imported specimen from

Burmah.
My hen was a most excellent breeding bird, and

I reared eight young birds in about a year, and

should have had many more (for there were 10 or
II nests), but so many eggs were broken, and some
of the young ones hatched only to be forsaken.
Of course it was very foolish to let my birds nest
so often, but these doves were amongst my very
first birds, and I was very ignorant, having then
had next to no experience in keeping doves.

The Necklaces were very gentle and would never
fight unless attacked first. The hen laid eggs
regularly every few weeks, and if some disaster
happened to them two more would be laid within
the next few days, I remember they nested at first

SENEGAL TURTLE-DOVE. 55

in the shelter, and carried up dried heather. con-
tinually. JI suppose I was probably too shy of
disturbing them to inspect what the birds were
really after; anyhow, it was not until some time
later that I found the birds had piled up quite a
pyramid of heather, with eggs laid at intervals in
the pile. Evidently they had made one nest and
laid, then tempted at seeing fresh heather had
added more on the top of the eggs and laid again,
and repeated this foolishness until I discovered it.

The Necklaces nested under great difficulties, for
they had two persistent enemies—first the Crested
doves, and later the Auritas. The first-named kept
taking the nests from the Necklaces and sitting
upon the eggs, the rightful owners being’ power-
less to resist, so that at last I was obliged to talxe
the intruders away to another aviary. The cock
Aurita had another method of torment: he would
hide regularly in the shelter, and when the Neck-
laces, but particularly the cock, came down to feed,
he would dart out and drive them off, and then
retire to his hiding-place to await his next oppor-
tunity. This happened so often and interfered so
with the rearing of the young birds that I was
driven to placing food and water in the spare nest
pans close to the Necklaces’ nest; they were very
grateful, and the coclk began to feed at once. The
Aurita then changed his plans, and grew bold
enough to try and attack the nest itself, but being
a coward as well as a bully he was no match for
the old cock on the higher level.

It really was amusing (because no harm ever
came of it) to watch the cock Necklace guarding
the hen on the nest, never taking his eyes off his
enemy, who would come creeping up to him
through the branches. Suddenly there would be a
raising of wings, a sharp interchange of blows,
and the Aurita would invariably fly off discom-
fited, leaving the victor triumphant.

The young Necklace doves have grey heads, pale
vinaceous breasts, the rest of the plumage brown
with faint lighter spots on the wings; they have
no checked neck collar at first. Although on the
whole the old birds were excellent parents, yet they
failed to rear their young ones many times. I
have known the hen ill-treat one of her own young
ones till I had to take the poor little thing away;
and again, if there were two young ones, the
parents would possibly feed one and neglect the
other. There is as much difference of character in
birds as in human beings, and a bird, however
ugly, that is a good nesting bird is invaluable.
Such a bird is my hen Aurita that I have already
told you of.

I once bred some beautiful Necklace Senegal
hybrids; they were very handsome birds. Now I
have no Necklaces, but I sometimes think I will

keep them again. Several were recently let’ out
loose into the:-Zoo grounds as an experiment to see
if they would breed there, but I do not know how
they thrived. The Necklace dove was kept at the
Gardens in 1884; its value is 12/6 to 15/- a pair,
and it is imported fairly often and does not seem
affected by the cold, but should not be allowed to
nest in winter, or the hens may die from egg-
binding.
SENEGAL TURTLE-DOVE.
(Turtur Senegalensis).

Habitat.—The whole of the African Continent,
Secotra, common on the Orange River and Grand
Namaqualand, Senegal, and the Canary Islands.

Length.—About 11 inches. Shape, medium
build, well proportioned.

Colouring.—The head, neck, and breast a soft
vinous, almost red-brick ; the underparts white, the
lower back and wings ash grey; the back is a
blending of the grey and vinous; the tail blacl,
white and grey; the bill dusky black, with a slight
vinous shade; the iris orange-red, the legs pinkish-
red. The hen is somewhat smaller and duller in
colouring; both birds have round the front and
sides of the neck a collar of small black checlxs.
It is unusual in doves to find the collar in this
position—it is generally round the back of the
neck, not the front.

WILD LIFE.

The Senegal dove seems to prefer the haunts of
man to the wilder parts, for it breeds not only in
trees and hedges, but in rafters, walls, ruins and
churches, and in the midst of towns and villages.
It is found in the Mimosa bush along the
Tugela, and Captain Horsburgh says it is very
common about Bloemfontein, and is generally seen
singly. It breeds almost all the year round, the
nest being made of twigs and roots, lilke most other
doves’ nests. The eggs are white and two
generally laid at a sitting.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Senegal is one of the most popular of doves
to keep in an aviary, for it is hardy, not too large,
and breeds freely, besides being very pretty. But
it has two bad faults—it is not always good-
tempered to other doves whilst it is nesting—I
have even known it turn on one of its own young ~
ones, plucking and beating it—and it is given to
laying eggs and then after a time deserting them,
probably with the desire to nest again.

The colouring of the Senegal varies very much
according to the district the birds come from.
Some birds are larger than others, and in these the
red shade prevails over the grey. The smaller and

56 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

greyer birds, I consider, are prettier and more
dainty. The young birds are also grey and vinous,
but the colours are not’ so bright as in the adult
birds, and the checked collar is at first lacking. If
allowed, the Senegal dove would probably nest all
the year round, the same as the Barbary.

The Senegal was first bred at the Zoo in 1861,
and in 1907 some were liberated as an experiment
in the Gardens, and I am told have done very well,
and settled down and nested. I have seen single
cock birds offered for as little as 2/6 each, but the
proper price is 12/6 to 15/- for a good adult pair.
I believe I gave 20/- for my pair in igor, but this
was through ignorance of their value, and possibly
they were not as common then as now. The
Senegal is hardy and stands the cold well.

CHAPTER VI.

GROUND DOVES.

The Bar-shouldered Dove.
,, Peaceful Dove.

,, Zebra Dove.

, Diamond Dove.

», scaly Dove.

,, Picui Dove.

,, Passerine Dove. ;
,, TLalpacoti (or Cinnamon) Dove.

BAR-SHOULDERED DOVE.
(Geopelia humeralis).

Habitat.—Australia (except the south-west), and
Southern New Guinea.

Length.—11 inches. Shape, long and graceful.

Colouring.—The head (except the back of the
neck) and upper breast, pale ash grey. The bacls
of the neck has a very deep collar of red-brown,
every feather being tipped with black, giving the
bird a scaled appearance. The back wing coverts,
rump and upper tail coverts pale brown tipped with
black; the lower breast and under-tail coverts pale
lilac-vinous. The eye is pale straw-colour, the
bare skin round it nearly purple, the bill slate, the
nostrils light blue, the legs and feet pink-red. The
hen is usually smaller than the male, and more
slender in build; the grey on the breast is darker
and duller.

WILD LIFE.

The Bar-shouldered dove frequents the ground
more than the trees, as it feeds largely on the seeds
of numerous grasses. Gould tells us that when in
Australia he found this dove so tame that it would
sometimes perch within two yards of where he was
sitting; he adds, however, that thirst and the scant
supply of water may have made it bolder than

usual. This dove breeds in its wild state in
August, making a nest of thin twigs on the lower
leaves of Pandanus. In a recent worl on ‘The
Nests and Eggs of Australia,’’ Mr. Campbell tells
us that the Bar-shouldered dove prefers the wooded
and scrubby localities, and that when cooked it
is delicious eating, especially when hashed with
sweet potatoes. \

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Bar-shouldered dove is a very handsome
bird, long and elegant in shape, and with very

attractive markings, but it is a bird that has a

bad character for being very quarrelsome with its
own tribe, one writer, from his own experience,
going so far as to say he considers it unsafe to
kkeep with other doves.

It seems to vary much in size.
two male birds, and one was much larger than
the other, the former bird proving a great tyrant
to all the other doves. In my own case I have had
three birds in all, one cock and two hens, and both
the hens were much smaller than the cock. Two
of these birds were sent me direct from Australia;
they arrived in very bad condition, and you cannot
wonder when I tell you that the travelling box they
were shipped in was only about 17 inches square
and also contained, besides the Bar-shouldereds, a
large Fruit pigeon and a Blue Bonnet parralxeet.

The butcher who had charge of them, being
evidently a kind and sensible man, took on himself
to separate the birds on the voyage, but they were
sent by rail on reaching England, in the original,
box cage. The parralxeet and the large pigeon had

not suffered, but the poor Bar-shouldereds had both

been injured. The cock, a very fine bird, had a
wound over one eye that never properly healed
all the time I had him, whilst the hen was a most
horrible sight, one side of her face being com-

pletely sliced off, the eyesight on that side of course —

being destroyed.

It was evidently not a new wound, and I should
say had been done when first the birds started
before the butcher parted them. How anyone
could be so cruel as to send ‘four birds a long
voyage in such a confined space I do not know;
but I think some people think a bird or animal can
bear anything and yet live.

The poor little hen only lived a few weeks, and
I really was glad she died. Meantime the cocls.
had got into trouble. He raised his wing in a’
striking attitude at a little Conure, and the latter
gave one snap in return at the dove’s leg and broke
it high up in the thigh. JI was in the aviary at
the time, and, with the help of my birdman, we
set the leg with a splint and some cottonwool and’
thread. We dressed it often, and were rewarded’

Deo Buenos

*t, t2 AND *3.—D1aAMOND Doves. 4.—Picur anpD PLuMED GrounD Dove.
5.—Picur Dove. *6.—PASSERINE Dove.
* Photographs by Mr. H. Wilford. + Photograph by Mr. D. Seth-Smith, F.Z.S., M.B.O.U

58 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS. 9

by the leg knitting together splendidly, so that
beyond a slight limp the injury was not permanent.
After the hen died the cock pined very much, and
was overjoyed when I presented him with a new
wife. I was never fortunate enough to rear any
young ones, and found the cockbird so quarrel-
some that finally I was glad to give both birds
away.

The male bird had a most peculiar coo that after
a time became rather irritating, and earned for
him the nickname of the ‘‘Popple-wock’’ dove.
The late Mr. Cresswell tells us how he had a cock
Bar-shouldered dove seven years, and the bird
_ would “‘cuckoo’’ to order. It even deceived the
real Cuckoos who would fly close to the aviary,
and once being heard by some workmen half-a-
mile away (who were working on a much lower
level than the aviary), the report got spread, and
even into a London paper, that the cuckoo had
been heard in Herefordshire at an extraordinary
time of the year. After the cock’s death the hen
started to ‘“‘cuckoo,”’ though she had rarely if ever
done so before, and would answer the cuckoo’s
call,

The Bar-shouldered is a very handsome dove,
but its bad temper and trying coo, which Dr.
Butler not untruly describes as ‘‘an impudent con-
ceited sound,’’ considerably lessens its attractive-
mess aS an aviary pet. It was first kept in the
Zoo in May, 1868, and bred there in July of the
same year, and many times since. The value per
pair is hard to say, but it is a dove not often offered
for sale, nor is there apparently much demand
for it.

Mr. Cresswell’s cock made nests and sat on
them, but whilst his first hen was alive no eggs
were laid, and the cock even went so far as to
destroy other birds’ eggs and nests and hinder
them from breeding. A new hen was got to put
with the cock into another aviary, and here within
ten days the hen had laid and was sitting well. In
his notes a year later Mr. Cresswell tells us how
the Bar-shouldered doves had failed to make their
nesting a success. Every year they hatched about
five pairs and always deserted the young birds
when they were about a fortnight old. The only
one that was reared was brought up under some
Barbary doves as foster parents.

Dr. Butler gives a most interesting description
of the courting postures of the cock Bar-shouldered
dove. He says when the ordinary bowing and
chasing seemed to leave the female indifferent, the
cock ‘‘suddenly turned his back on her, raised his
head to its highest elevation, spread his tail fan-
wise so that it swept the earth, and ran forward
two or three steps, with a short sharp guttural
sound, then looked over his shoulder and repeated

the action perhaps a dozen times. His rage en
she ignored all his efforts was unbounded, and he
then commenced a system of tyrannous persecu-
tion, varied with occasional fondlings, which bade
fair to reduce her to a scarecrow.”’

The most general way for the Geopelia species
to show off to the hen is to bow almost to the
ground, at the same time drooping the wings, and
raising and spreading the tail like a fan. I once
saw my own cock go through a most curious per-
formance: he put down his head till his beal
touched the wooden shelf he was standing on, and
then rubbed the beak about, making a noise at the
same time like a toy wind-up mouse. He was a
fine bird, but a great bully, keeping the Auritas
and Madagascars (who are also rather tyrants),
and needless to say his own wife, in order. I was
really glad when a friend kindly toolk him, in
spite of his beauty.

THE PEACEFUL DOVE.
(Geopelia tranquilla).

Habitat.—Australia.

Length.—83 inches. Shape, slender and elegant.

Colouring.—Adult male—Forehead, cheeks, and
throat grey, the occiput, back and wings ashy
brown; the breast, sides, and back of neck grey;
abdomen and flanks vinous. As in the Zebra dove,
this bird is covered with tiny black lines, giving it
a striped or barred appearance. These bars extend
right across the upper breast, whereas in the Zebra
they extend only across the sides of it. The bill
and orbits are bright greyish blue, the iris of the
eye bright ash grey, and the legs greenish grey
in front, redder behind.

WILD LIFE.

Gould says this dove is “‘chiefly observed on the
ground, feeding on the seeds of various plants
under the shelter of thinly-timbered forests
bordering plains.’? Campbell tells us that the
Peaceful doves fed close to the camp, and that the
nest is composed of twigs, rootlets, and fine dry
grass. ;

Captain Sturt calls this dove the ‘‘Ventrilo-
quist.’’ He says ‘‘it frequents the banks of the
Darling and the Murray, but is not so common as
Geopelia cuneata (the Diamond Dove). i first
found it on the marshes of the Macquarie, but
could not see it. The fact is that it has the power
of throwing its voice to a distance, and I mistook
it for some time for the note of a large bird on the
plains, and sent a man with a gun more than once
to shoot it, but without success. At last, as Mr.
Hume and I were one day sitting under a tree on
the Bogan Creek, between the Macquarie and the
Darling, we heard a note, and I sent my man

ZEBRA DOVE. 59

Frazer to try once more if he could discover what
bird it was, when, in looking up into the tree
under which we were sitting we saw one of these
little doves, and ascertained from the movement of
its throat that the sound proceeded from it,
although it still fell on our ears as if it had been
some large bird upon the plain.”’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Peaceful Dove is a quiet little bird, very
different in character to the Zebra Dove, though so
like it in appearance.

You will notice the chief points of difference are
that in the Peaceful the black bars extend right
across the breast, and the bill and eye are a
different colour, also the back: of the head is not so
red as in the Zebra. Dr. Butler found the Peace-
ful doves quiet to the verge of dulness; they never
left their branch except to feed, and then only ate
sparingly. He considered the hens more delicate
than the cocks. In another aviary I. have read of
a pair of Peaceful doves being forced to give up
their nest to a little hen Pileated Finch, who forth-
with took possession of it and started to incubate
the eggs, sitting so closely that she could almost

. be touched without taking alarm.

Mr. Astley bred the Peaceful dove in Italy most
successfully, no less than four broods appearing
in seven months, besides another clutch of eggs
that failed to hatch. The nest was built in a
covered box, partly open at one side, and entirely
so underneath; inside this was fixed a bunch of
“heather, and the nest (of hay) was built on it.
When first the young birds were hatched they were
covered with fawn-coloured down, and on leaving
the nest had a very spotted appearance, the
feathers being spotted with cream-buff, and these
again having a little bar, or spot, of dark brown;
the general colour of the young birds was a ‘‘dull
mouse brown.”’ There was no pink on the breast,
nor bluish and pale pink round the eyes as in the
adult bird. The eggs were about 13 days in
incubating.

This dove was kept at the Zoo as far back as
1868, but I do not know if it has ever been bred
there. The value of the Peaceful dove is about
to/- per pair. It should be taken indoors in
winter, as it does not stand extreme cold well.

ZEBRA DOVE.
(Geopelia striata).

Habitat——South Tenasserim, Malay Peninsula,
Indo-Malayan Archipelago, and from the Philip-
pines southward to Lombock, the Celebes and
Amboyna. It has been introduced into the
Seychelles, Madagascar, Mauritius, Round Island,
Réunion, and St. Helena.

Length.—Rather over 8 inches. Build, graceful
and slender.

Colouring.—Adult male—Front of the head,
cheeks and throat ashy grey, hind part of crown
and occiput reddish, the principal part of the body
brown or brownish grey, barred with narrow black
lines; these, however, are not over the centre of
the breast, which is pale vinous. The abdomen
and under-tail coverts buffy-white, the sides and

flanks ditto, but with narrow black bands; the

iris brown, the bill black, the feet purple. The
female is rather smaller than the male, and less
reddish on the occiput.

WILD LIFE.

A gentleman who had visited Mahe, the largest
island of the Seychelles group, writes of the Zebra
doves, that they ‘“‘abound on the estate, and come
every afternoon to be fed with rice.’’ He adds
that the doves are ‘“‘ridiculously tame, for ‘wild
birds,’ and when we sat in the verandah they would
often perch on our shoulders or wallx over our
books.”’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Zebra dove was at one time one of the
commonest of imported doves, and could be bought
for as little as 4/6 a pair, but of late years it has
not been offered for sale so frequently. I once
reared a young one of either this species or the
Peaceful dove, but before it was full grown it was
Killed by another bird. The cock Zebra looks very
pretty when he coos, bowing to the ground and
raising and spreading his tail like a fan. I cannot
say, however, that either the Zebra dove or the
Peaceful dove (which is so very like it) are great
favourites of mine, partly because these small
doves have a way—or rather the cocks have—of
making themselves so disagreeable to others of the
dove tribe that may be kept in the same aviary,
and partly because the birds are liable to overgrown
beaks in weak or old specimens; this, of course,
means the beak must be clipped if the bird is not
to starve, and clipping a beak is an operation }
rather shrink from if possible—it is very much
worse than cutting claws.

The late O. E. Cresswell, Esq., who kept the
Zebra dove, found them wonderfully hardy for
Indian birds; all the same, I think all tiny doves
need protection in winter; they do not seem to have
the vigour in them to withstand the cold as have
the larger varieties. Mr. Cresswell says he never
saw more devoted sitters or parents than the
Zebras; they would defend their nest against birds
four or five times their own size. Unfortunately
this devotion to the young birds did not last, and
nest after nest was lost through the old birds start-
ing again before the young ones were able to do

60 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

for themselves and could do without the warmth
of their parents. However, in great heat one or
two young ones were reared annually.

Mr. Cresswell accounts for this neglect on the
part of the old birds by the fact that having food
provided and always at hand they are not fatigued
and occupied in looking for it as in a state of
nature, and so too readily desire to start breeding
again at the expense of the young birds. They
were not deserted till they were 16 to 20 days old,
and would jump from the nest before they could
fly (probably getting restless from hunger), and
either from neglect or damp would go weal: in
the legs, dwindle and die.

One young one, who nearly died, recovered, and
at six weelxs old could not only care for itself, but
fly as well as its parents.

Zebra doves were kept at the Zoo in 1863, and
bred there in 1865. In one year 14 young ones
were bred in the Girza Zoological Gardens, Cairo.

THE DIAMOND DOVE.
(Geopelia cuneata).

Habitat.—lt is found generally throughout Aus-
tralia (with the exception of Cape York and Rocl-
ingham Bay). One writer says he found this dove
restricted to the middle regions of Australia, and
its prinicipal habitat the basin of the Murray and
its tributaries.

Length.—About 73 inches, 4 of which compose
the tail. Shape, long and slender.

Colouring.—In the male the head, neck and
breast a soft ash grey, passing into white on the
under parts. The nape and back mouse brown;
the upper part of the wings darker grey and
covered with tiny white spots. The naked skin
round the eye and also the eye itself bright red (in
some few specimens the eye and skin is yellowish
green). The beak is olive brown, the feet reddish
flesh-colour. In the female the white spots are
larger than in the male, but she is a smaller bird
and browner, not so grey as the cock.

WILD LIFE.

Mr. Gould’s description of this dove in that old
book, Dixon’s ‘‘Dovecote and Aviary,’”? is so
pleasantly written that I cannot do better than
quote it. He says: ‘‘Its natural food being the
seeds of grasses and leguminous plants, it is
observed more frequently on the ground than
among trees. I sometimes met with it in small
flocks, but more often in pairs or singly. It runs
over the ground with a short bobbing motion of
the tail, and while feeding is so remarkably tame
as almost to admit of its being taken by the hand;
and if forced to take wing it merely flies to the

nearest trees, and there remains motionless among
the branches until it again descends to the ground.
I have not infrequently observed it close to the open
door of the huts of the stock-keepers of the interior,
who from it being so constantly before them regard
it with little interest. The nest is a frail but
beautiful structure formed of the stalks of a few
flowering grasses, crossed and interwoven after the
manner of other pigeons.”

Captain Sturt tells us how the Diamond doves
remained at the Depot the greater part of the
winter, and on one occasion roosted on his tent-
ropes near a fire.

The Diamond dove lays two small white eggs.
The young are very like their parents, but have
fewer and smaller wing spots. After the first
moult they are exactly like an adult bird in colour.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Diamond dove is also known by the names
of the Graceful, Ground, Speckled, and Red-eyed
dove. It is deservedly popular amongst bird-
lovers, for it is a sweet little dove and harmless in
an aviary, though if several specimens are kept
together they will fight amongst themselves. Some
years ago the Diamond dove cost from 23/- up to
30/- a pair, now they can be had for about ro/-.
A specimen was kept at the Zoo in 1868, and since
then this dove has been kept and bred in many
private aviaries. From two pairs of birds in one
collection 13 young ones were bred in ome season,
and in Italy even more. It is recorded how one
young hen, only 75 days old, nested, laying two
eggs, one of which was fertile, but the nest was
deserted before the young one was hatched. Dr.
Greene states that though the eggs are laid it
often happens that only one is fertile. The nest
is a very fragile structure, and only about two
inches in diameter. My own birds made a nest
and sat in it steadily for many days, but as no eggs
were laid I conclude the nest was just for ““squat-
ting” in. The cock Diamond dove looks very
pretty when making love to the hen. He runs
after her, raising and spreading his tail like a
peacock, and bobbing up and down as he coos.

This dove is not hardy, and must be taken in
during the colder months, say from October to
May. It is as well to give it a secluded place to
nest in, as being so defenceless its nest is easily
destroyed if it is kept with mischievous birds such
as Parson Finches and Weavers; yet, strange to
say, a little cock Diamond dove I had (whose wings
were injured so that it could not fly) was the
greatest ‘of friends with a cock Parson Finch, who
was noted for being a bully in the aviary. These
two would sit together, nestling side by side, the

THE SCALY AND PICUI OR STEEL-BARRED DOVES. 61

Parson Finch talking in his own language to the
dove all day long.

My first hen Diamond dove was bought in 1899,
and cost me 10/6; after it moulted the feathers
turned from grey to browny drab. I have noticed
this changing also in the Picui dove—that after the
moult the colour is often different. In 1900 I
bought a fine cock Diamond, very darlx grey, and
the skin round the eye coral-red, but I never
succeeded in rearing any young ones.

THE SCALY DOVE.

(Scardafella sqwamosa).
Habitat.—Brazil, Venezuela, and Columbia.
Length.—About 8 inches. Shape, slender, with

long tail.

Colouring.—Adult male—Upper parts greyish
brown; lower parts white, with a pinkish tinge
on the sides and lower neck and also on the breast ;
each feather edged with a crescentic bar of black,
except the under-tail coverts, which are pure white.
The wings are light brown (also edged with blacls
crescentic bars), the long quills brown; the tail
is brown and black, the black feathers having
broad white tips, the bill is brownish black, the
feet flesh colour, the iris carmine red. The hen is
similar to the coclsbird.

WILD LIFE.

Mr. Taylor, in an article on Birds of the West

Indies, tells us how the bush and savannah in the

“neighbourhood of Ciudad Bolivar swarm with little
ground doves. Both the Scaly and the Talpacoti
dove are found there, but the latter in more abun-
dance than the former.

Mr. Forbes, whilst riding in Brazil, several times
flushed little coveys of the Scaly dove, ‘“‘which rose
up from the road and tool refuge in the nearest
tree. Usually these parties consisted of about
four; when rising they make, apparently with their
wings, a curious rattling noise, whence they are
called by the Brazilians ‘R6éla Cascavel,’ cascavel
meaning a rattle, and being also the name applied
by the natives to the Brazilian Rattlesnake.”

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I purchased a pair of these little doves in 1903.
The price asked for the Scalys at first was 25/-
a pair, but I fancy they did not sell very quickly.
Eventually I gave 35/- for a pair each of Scaly
and Cinnamon doves. The former are strange-
looking little birds, something the shape of a Zebra
dove, with a fairly long tail. Lilke the Zebra dove,
too, the Scaly seems rather liable to suffer from an
overgrown beak,.and possibly not only overgrown,
but twisted, for when one mandible gets longer
than the other it is impossible for the two portions
of the bealx to fit properly in position.

Of all small operations to be performed on birds
I think I find bealx trimming the most unpleasant.
In these two pairs of doves I have just mentioned
two out of the four birds wanted their beaks cut-
ting when I got them. Sometimes this over-
growth is a sign of weakness, sometimes of old
age. At the present time I should not care to add
any bird to my collection with this failing, for even
when once cut the bealx will grow long again.

I have not much to record about my own Scaly
doves, for J did not much care for them nor even
think them very pretty; but Dr. Greene in his
“Notes on Cage Birds” is evidently a great
admirer of this little dove, for he gives a long
account of its nesting, besides praising its appear-
ance. He speaks of it as quick and lively in its
movements, ever on the alert, very quiet with other
birds, and that it has a sonorous and really musical
call—*‘ Roo-koo-lxoo.””

Dr. Greene considers the Scaly dove fairly hardy.
He says the breeding season in England may be
said to be from the middle of May; the hen
arranges the nest, whilst the coclk carries her up
the material; incubation lasts 16 or 17 days, both
birds sharing in the worl: of sitting and feeding.
The young do well if the weather is warm and
genial, but if cold and damp it is doubtful if they
are reared. The young birds differ considerably
from the old birds until after their first moult;
their colour till then is a pale ashen-grey, very
slightly marked with the ‘‘scaly” tips of the
feathers, so marked a feature in the plumage of
the old birds.

Dr. Greene says these doves in captivity live
principally on white millet, with a little hemp and
canary; they are fond of pecking about in the
grass, and eat the tips of it and probably many
minute insects at the same time.

The Scaly dove has been kept at the Zoo as far
back as 1867. I believe it was bred in England
for the first time quite recently. After keeping my
pair of birds over a year I was still so little in love
with them that I sold them for 8/6.

PICUI OR STEEL-BARRED DOVE.
(Columbula Picut).

Habitat.—South Brazil, Paraguay, Argentine,
Chili, and Bolivia.
Length.—About 7 inches. Shape, very well

proportioned.

Colouring.—General colour grey. Soft grey on
back and head, shading into almost white on the
face and breast. A steel-blue bar runs high up
across the wing, but as this band is very darlx it
does not do much to lighten up the colour of the
bird. The feet are purple-red, the bill black, the

62 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

iris the most beautiful shade of lilac surrounded
with pale straw colour. The hen is not nearly so
grey as the cock, being a much browner shade ; she
is a little smaller than he is. The shape of the
Picui is very trim and dainty.

WILD LIFE.
Dr. Butler tells of the Picui being usually seen
in pairs, though now and then about twelve or
more may be seen together. In their wild state
these doves breed two or three times in the season ;
che eggs—two in number—are small and white,
and rather short in shape. Hudson says the “coo”
is rather loud and somewhat monotonous. The
Picui is the smallest dove of the Argentine, where
it frequents the neighbourhood of houses.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have kept this sweet little dove for many years,
and though I have never reared any young ones
to maturity yet, I have had them up to three-parts
grown, when they were very like the old birds, but
not so grey as the cock, being browner, like the
hen. I have found the coclx Picuis vary very much
in colour; one cock I had developed quite a
quantity of black feathers; whether it was age, or
the food had anything to do with it, I never dis-
covered. Possibly it got more hemp than was good
for it, as it lived in a mixed aviary with other
birds.

The Picui is not always safe to trust with other
doves, even though they may be larger in size. [
remember one particularly fierce little specimen I
had—I think he of the black feathers—whose
method of attack on a large dove was ingenious.
Most doves when they fight lift up one wing, and,
watching each other most intently, tale their
opportunity to strike with the uplifted wing; and
a blow from a dove of average size is no light
matter. If there is no fear of serious injury being
done, I like to watch two doves having a sparring
match, for they remind me of two fencers; and the
one with the quickest eye and readiest wing should
win. Often they will stand quite motionless for
some time, watching for the first opportunity to
strike.

But the Picui, being so small, would have had
no chance with a large rival in a combat of this
kind, so he adopted the method of getting on to
his opponent’s back and raining blow after blow
on the head of the unfortunate bird, who seemed
powerless to shake him off, though very much the
Jarger dove of the two. At present I have only
one little cock, but he is a beautiful bird, the softest
shade of pearl-grey. He is very good-tempered
and spends all his time with the larger doves,
seeming to like their companionship. His mate
was murdered by a hen Barraband’s parrakeet.

The late Mr. Cresswell found his Picuis liable to
dying suddenly and from no apparent cause, but
this has not been my own experience, though I look
on the hens as delicate and very liable to egg-
binding, even when well supplied with grit and
cuttlefish bone. :

The Picui dove was first kept at the Zoo in 1883.
It has been bred by different aviculturalists in
England, and is worth about 15/- a pair, though
a few years ago 20/- might have been paid for it.
It should be kept in pairs if possible, as it is a dove
that is greatly attached to its mate. At one time
I had no less than seven specimens of this little
dove in my aviaries, besides several others before
and since. Sometimes I came across a Strong hen
who would nest without laying soft-shelled eggs
or suffering from egg-binding, but others were just
as delicate.

I have spoken of the Picuis’ aggressiveness
towards other doves, but now and again the right
is on the tiny bird’s side; and then one cannot but
admire his courage. I remember especially one
instance: A pair each of Aurita and Picui doves
were in one house, and the latter had built and
were sitting well on two beautiful eggs. One
night when I looked round I found the hen Picui
sitting, with the cock Aurita roosting on the edge
of the nest; the cock Picui was outside in the
flight looking miserable. Next day things were
worse, for I found the Aurita in full possession of
the nest, and the poor little Picui cock standing
on his back and in his desperation trying to beat
the intruder off with his wings.

It was strange, because the Auritas had one
young one of their own in another nest. I took
away the Picuis and their eggs and tried to get
them to settle in a large cage, but they would not.
So I caught the Auritas and caged them, giving
the Picuis their liberty again. In an instant they
were back on the nest and seemed quite to under-
stand. i

One of the most beautiful things about the Picui

is the colour of its eye. Next time you have the
chance hold one of these little doves in your hand,
and examine closely this wonderful violet jewel in
the little grey head; you will marvel at its beauty.

The Picui is a tender little bird, as indeed are
all tiny doves; they should always be brought in
during the winter.

PASSERINE GROUND DOVE.
(Chamoepelia Passerina).
Habitat.—South Atlantic and Gulf States,
Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California, south
to the West Indies, and through Central America
to South America, as far as Peru and Paraguay.

we Pa ee ee ee a ee ee ee | ae ae er

Pr

|
F
’

PASSERINE GROUND DOVE. 63

,

Length.—Rather over 6 inches.
but well proportioned.

Colouring.—The general colour is _ pinkish
vinous, with the crown and nape bluish grey, the
edges of the feathers being dark, as also are those
at the sides of the neck. The upper wing coverts
are vinous, and the long wing quills cinnamon, the
outer edges and tips being dull brown; the wing
is blotched with steel-blue shading into violet. The
back is olive brown, the feathers of the throat and
front of breast are pinkish with dusky centres.
The feet pale flesh-colour, the bill yellow (or
orange) with a dusixy tip, the iris red. This dove,
being found in so many countries, varies much;
the Jamaican and Socorro Islands seem to possess
the brightest coloured specimens.

Short legged,

WILD LIFE.

The Passerine dove is found in great numbers ~

in Jamaica. Mr. Sutcliffe tells us how ‘‘when
passing along the road one can put them up by
scores. They fly very fast and straight, but not
to a great distance, and soon alight again, either
on a tree or the ground.”’ He also speaks of the
great cruelty practised by the blacks when catching
birds. ‘“‘Directly they catch a bird, which they
do not kill, they pull out the wing and tail feathers
and break their legs to prevent escape (they
brought many to me in this state).”” He at once
stopped them catching on his behalf on learning
this. A gentleman I know in Jamaica tells me
that the natives catch some of the pigeons in what
they call a ‘‘caliban,’’ which is a kind of rustic
basket made of twigs. It is fixed to drop over
the head of a bird which may release it by running
across a thread.

Mr. Goodfellow, in his notes on the bird life in
Ecquador, tells us that he found the Passerine dove
in great numbers in the valley of Chillo. Acacias
and aloes grow there, but it is dry and sandy, and
many times has been devastated by eruptions from
Cotopaxi. The tiny doves may be seen running
along the dusty roads and might be snared in great
quantities; their nests were built on the branches
of the acacia trees, and one nest was also found
on the giant flower stalks of an aloe; the sitting
bird could be seen from below. The other nesis
were built of the thin dry seed-pods of the acacia
trees, a little dry grass and a few twigs. The
Passerine doves found in this district appear to
have been a bright coloured variety, for the male
is described as delicate fawnish pink, the hen not
so bright; when in flight the wings appeared
wholly red. Mr. Goodfellow adds he met this dove
“in many parts of Columbia, but always in the
higher mountains.’’ He gives the bird’s length
as only 53 inches.

Gosse noted that when running the Passerine
usually erects the tail, and can run very swiftly
over the ground. He tells us they eat grass seeds,
the seeds of the castor-oil plant, and particularly
those of the gamboge thistle. A method of catch-
ing them by the natives was by strewing the
ground, near the doves’ watering-place, with the
seeds of the cockspur, which is so adhesive that if
one burr touch a feather it cannot be removed
except by pulling the feather out. The poor little
doves in their struggles only entangled other
feathers and were easily caught. Another way
was to catch them in springes made of horsehair,
though this often ended fatally.

I have kept many specimens of this little dove,
though some only for a short time. My first two
pairs were bought in 1899, one pair costing me
21/-, and the second, bought from another dealer
just afterwards, only 10/6. These four birds were
fond of roosting all together, three in a row, the
fourth on the backs of the others. Two years
after, in 1901, a large importation arrived in Eng-
land and were sold under a wrong name, some
being sent to me as Bronze Spotted doves.

In two or three private importations of doves I
have had from Jamaica there have generally been
a number of these tiny doves, and very well indeed
they have travelled; but to land them uninjured
it is necessary to clip their wings first. The late
Mr. Cresswell tells us how over and over again
cages of them have been shipped to England and
none arrived alive, for they would batter them-
selves to pieces, some even doing so before they
could be shipped.

The colouring of the Passerine is the most varied
of any dove I know. Some specimens I have had
being almost pink with a soft grey bloom on them;
one bird was so dark as to be almost black (and
a very handsome bird he was); others again were
chocolate-brown; but in every variation of shade
the feathers are all tipped with dark edges, giving
almost a scaled appearance. Every writer seems
to agree as to the wildness of this little dove at
first (and this has been my own experience), but
after a time they settle down, and mine grew quite
indifferent even to strangers.

To Mr. Willford belongs the honour of first
breeding the Passerine dove in England, though
Dr. Russ bred them some years ago in Germany.
My own birds nearly bred once in 1g02. They
made a very pretty nest of hay (rounded and more
like a real nest, not like the loose mass of material
that generally constitutes a dove’s idea of building)
on the top of a wooden bracket in a very exposed
place in the aviary. One beautiful egg was laid,
and the Passerines, filled with importance, began
to sit, and sat so well that the egg began soon to

64 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

change colour. Then in my ignorance I did a very
foolish thing with the best of intentions. The
nest was so exposed, and the aviary so full of
mixed birds and possible enemies, that I watched
my opportunity whilst the hen was off the nest,
and fixed up a few Scotch fir branches before the
nest, though in no way touching it, as a screen.

But the hen did not like this arrangement, and
would not go back till I had taken down the
branches again, ‘when she returned at once.

The birds went on sitting, and just a day or so
before the egg was due to hatch I found the cock
sitting by the side of the hen on the nest. I knew
what it meant, and my hopes sank; the cock was
trying to persuade the hen to leave the egg and
start a fresh nest. Needless to say he succeeded,
and in a few hours I had to admit the disappoint-
ing fact that the nest was deserted. It was all the
more trying as the egg contained a very fine young
bird just ready to freien.

The Passerine is rather a tiresome little dove to
other small doves of its size and to its own kind,
chasing them continually till they are tired out.

The Zoo possessed a Passerine so far back as
1860. At the present time these charming little
doves cost 15/- or less a pair. They should be
brought in during the winter, for being such
ground-loving birds they would soon get chilled
and die if left out in the wet or snowy weather.

THE TALPACOTI (OR CINNAMON) DOVE.
(Chamaepelia Talpacoti).

Habitat.—Venezuela (Orinoco), Guiana, Brazil,
Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru.
Length.—About 7 inches.
to a Passerine dove.

Colouring.—General colour brown vinous red;
paler, almost white, on the breast; upper part of
the head and nape grey, lighter on the forehead.
The wings and tail are brownish black, and the
former has several blotches of a blacl: steel-blue.
The iris is dull yellow-red, the feet flesh colour,
the bill darlk brown. The hen is paler and duller
in colouring; a brownish tinge on the manile;
some specimens have hardly a vinous tinge, but
are tinged with pale brownish grey, with the
middle of the abdomen whitish, and the under tail
coverts dull rufous edged with whitish.

Shape, very similar

WILD LIFE.

Mr. E. W. White, on Birds from the Argentine
Republic, writes as follows:—‘‘These pretty
chocolate-coloured doves fly in pairs, and at this
date (November) were found constructing their
nests in the orange groves; they are sometimes
seen on the ground busily in quest of seeds, but

are very wild and not at all common. I shot
specimens at Concepcion, Misiones, in the month
of June, but they were rare there.’’

Another writer, Mr. Hamilton, also notes the
shy nature of the Talpacoti. He says: “I only
noticed these birds round one or two farms, where
they associated in small flocks, feeding on the
ground in company with various kinds of small
birds, and were remarkably shy; on the approach
of anyone they were invariably the first to talze
alarm and fly away. I saw them occasional
perched upon the roofs of outhouses.’

Here we have two records of this dove being shy
and timid, but a third writer, Mr. Selby, experi-
enced the reverse. He writes of the Cinnamon
dove as follows :—‘‘This diminutive species, which
only measures about 6% inches in length, is pretty
widely distributed throughout Brazil, Paraguay,
and other districts of South America. It lives in
the Open grounds, but generally near the confines
of woods, as it roosts and breeds upon the lower
bushes or underwood, but never upon the larger
trees or far from the ground. It is generally
observed in pairs, sometimes in families of four
or six, but never associated in large flocks. It
appears to be of a tame disposition, as it is seen
constantly about the confines of houses or in the
farmyards, and readily admits of a near
approach.”’

Wagler observes that in Europe it is easily kept
and propagated in the aviary. It is active upon
the ground, and feeds upon the smaller cerealia,
berries, etc.’’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have only kept one pair of this little dove. This
was in 1903, when I bought one pair each of
Talpacoti and Scaly doves... The next year I un-
fortunately lost my hen Cinnamon, I think from
cold. It is unwise to leave any small doves in a
cold aviary for the winter; they do not seem to
have the stamina of the larger kinds.

Mr. Castle-Sloane, in 1904, was very successful
in breeding the Talpacoti dove. Probably his birds
were from the same importation as mine, for he
first had them in the same year.
three broods in the season, the eggs of the third
nest being laid on July 6th and 7th, and were
hatched out on the 22nd. The nest was built of
hay in some pine branches nailed close up to the
roof of the shelter; so small was the nest that it
hardly seemed capable of holding the two eggs
The young were like the hen in colour. (Another
writer tells us they have no black blotches on the
wings, and the tail feathers are edged with red-
dish). Later a fourth brood were hatched out, but
I do not know if they were reared.

They reared

THE CAPE OR HARLEQUIN DOVE. 65

So eager were these Talpacotis to nest that later
on, I think in 1906, they began sitting on two
nests at once. The hen first built in some bushes
near the aviary door, where she was often dis-
turbed, for every time some one went in to feed
the birds she would fly up and leave the nest. She
then laid two eggs in an old nest close by; these
the cock sat on, whilst the hen continued to sit on
her first clutch. In the case of the cock the eggs
came to nothing. It is the rule with doves that
the cock sits by day and the hen by night, but I
have known of at least one case where the hen
appeared to do most of the work. The Talpacoti
dove has been known to turn wholly or partially
black in plumage where odd specimens were kept.

It was first kept at the Zoo in May, 1868, and
bred there in August of the same year, and also
several times in later years.

CHAPTER VII.

BRONZE-WING DOVES AND PIGEONS.
The Cape (or Harlequin) Dove.
,, lambourine Dove.
,, Indian Green-winged Dove.
,, Bronze-wing Pigeon.
,, Brush Bronze-wing Pigeon.
,, Partridge Bronze-wing.

@HE CAPE (OR HARLEQUIN) DOVE.
(Ena capensis).
» Habitat—Common in Tropical and Southern
Africa, and also Madagascar and Arabia, where it
is found near Jeddah and Aden.

Length.—About 9 inches. Shape, graceful and
slender, with very long tail.

Colouring.—General colour a brownish grey
with (in the cock) a black mark over the face and
throat. Two black bands cross the rump, and
between them a belt of pale buffish brown. The
breast and abdomen are white, the tail, which is
very long, black and white, On the wings are
large steel-blue patches of metallic feathers. The
basal half of the bill is lake red, the remaining half
orange. The iris is brown, the feet and legs darlx
rose-red. The hen differs chiefly from the cock in
having no blaclk mark, and is much browner in
colour; but I have found individual birds vary very
much. The young birds resemble the hen, but
have blackish bands on the head and neck. Their
feet are dark purple, and beals blacls.

WILD LIFE.

The Cape Dove is also known by the three other
names of the Harlequin, Masked and Naquama
Dove. It is found on wooded steppes, in hedges
and gardens, round the farms, and in the cattle

Ixraals. It builds its nest of a few dry twigs,
generally in palms and acacias, from June to
September. It would seem as if the nest were
sometimes also built on the ground, for Captain
Horsburgh, speaking of this dove, says: ‘‘I found
the nests of this latter species last June, which is
nearly the middle of winter here; one of the nests
was on the top of a furrow in a ploughed field and
not a bush near it. I presume the eggs must have
been near hatching time, as the little hen would
only go a few feet away from the treasures, and as
soon as I moved away she flew to them at once
and settled herself down in a most confidential
manner.”’

This was at Bloemfontein, and the same writer
also tells us he has seen dozens of this little dove
in Cape Colony. In one place he bought four
specimens from a boy at a farm for 6d. each.

In its wild state the Cape dove frequents the
ground much more than when it is in captivity.
The coo is a sound of Hoo-roo-roo, and as the bird
makes it he spreads his long tail and jerks it
upwards. The hens are imported much less
frequently than the cocks.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

This little dove is one of the most graceful of
its kind. It has a very long slender tail, and when
in flight with outstretched wings it hovers lile
some beautiful foreign butterfly, for its wing
motion is rather slow and hesitating. It is a quiet
lazy little bird in captivity, and spending most of
the day sitting quietly on a branch, seemingly
indifferent to its surroundings.

I have kept several specimens of this dove, and
though my hens have laid eggs, I have never been
successful in breeding any young ones, It has
been bred in Germany and by two aviculturalists at
least in England. The earliest of these records
was in the aviary of a friend of mine, a lady in
the South of England. She did not for long rear
the young ones, for if the weather turned cold
when they were in the nest, and the old birds failed
to brood them, the young birds always died; at
last, however, she succeeded in rearing a pair to
maturity.

In the second instance the gentleman in whose
aviary the Cape doves bred, writes to me as
follows :—‘‘I had several young hatched, but found
that they would jump out of the nest at an early
age and that the adults would not feed them on
the ground. However, I devised a method of
keeping them in the nest as long as I wished, and
I then had no further trouble. I dare say you have
noticed that the eggs are not white, but a deep
warm buff; one clutch was almost saffron colour.’’

One of my own hens came to a sad end. She

E

66 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS,

had a way of getting over on her back and not
being able to right herself again, but would lay
quite helpless. Many a time she was rescued,
but early one morning she was found dead, having
got over on her back, and no one being by to save
her. Dr. Butler mentions that one of his cocks,
when weal and ill, also rolled over on its back,
and perhaps it is an accident peculiar to this dove,
for J cannot recall any other kind that does the
same.

The Cape dove is only imported now and then,
and on the whole the price has risen. About eight
years ago these birds were 13/6 the pair; now a
good healthy pair will often fetch 20/-. This dove,
like most of the smaller varieties, cannot stand our
English winter without heat, and must be brought
indoors in good time.

THE TAMBOURINE DOVE.
(Tympanistria bicolor).

Habitat.—The whole of South and South-West
Africa, on the West Coast as far as Casamance,
and on the East Coast as far as Mombas. It is
found in Caffraria, also in Madagascar, the
Comero Islands, and Fernando Po.

Length.—About 8 inches. Shape, very rounded,
and sturdy.

Colouring.—The cock is dark chocolate-brown,
but the forehead, face, breast, and underparts are
snowy white, the light and dark plumage being
clearly defined and making a very beautiful con-
trast. On the wings are a few metallic spots of
dark green or purple. Under the wings the
feathers are a warm cinnamon colour, but it is only
noticeable when the wing is raised. This feature
is very common in many other doves besides the
Tambourine. The feet are crimson, the eyes hazel.
In shape this dove is sturdy and compact. The
hen is a decidedly lighter brown than the cock,
and her white parts are much greyer, while the
wing spots are not metallic.

WILD LIFE.

The Tambourine was so named by Levaillant
because he thought its cooing resembled the sound
of a tambourine at a distance. He evidently con-
sidered it a rare dove, as he informed M.
Temminck that for 200 specimens of another
species he could only obtain 27 of this. Levaillant
records it as arboreal in its habits, and it is said
to build in the great African woods on the summit
of trees. ;

Dr. Butler tells us that the Tambourine feeds
largely on the dropped seeds of the castor-oil plant
and other plants, and that it descends to the
ground to feed. The flight in its wild state is

exceedingly swift. The coo, beginning slowly,
grows faster and faster, till it ends in a vibration.

The friend who sent over my three birds (two
cocks and a hen) told me how very wild he found
these doves when first caught, and that unless their
wings were clipped they would dash upwards and
either stun or kill themselves against the cage top.
One cock struck his head with such force that
they believed him dead, but after a time he
recovered, though a second one died. An interest-
ing account is given by Mr. Robin Kemp of the
Tambourine dove from his personal experience of
it in Africa.

A native brought him six or seven of these doves
which he had trapped in a rice field. All their
flight feathers, and in most cases their tail
feathers, had been ruthlessly plucked out. This
possibly was done to prevent the birds escaping,
but on the other hand the natives seem to have
no regard for the sufferings of animal and bird life.
I have heard of them selecting the bluntest knife
they could find and sawing it across the neclx of a
chicken to prolong the poor thing’s agony when
being killed.

Mr. Kemp’s birds seem to have been of both
sexes, for some had white and others greyish
breasts. He fed them on rice, with which diet
they seemed quite contented, but he mever
succeeded in getting them to live in captivity for
more than a few months. They were very plenti-
ful (in South-East Sierra Leone) and resident
throughout the year.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Zoological Gardens in NRegent’s Park
possessed three cocks and one hen Tambourine
dove as far back as 1871. After 1883 it was im-
ported freely, and then again it ceased.

At the present time this dove seems hardly
obtainable. A year or two ago a dealer told me
he had sold some for about 10/- a pair, but he did
it not knowing what the birds were, nor their
worth, as this sum is not a tithe of their real value.
The three birds I had were:very quiet—they seldom
moved about the aviary, and did not interfere with
my other birds. I kept them in an aviary that
can be heated in winter, for this little dove is only
half hardy. Dr. Greene, who kept a pair of these
birds, considered them charming; he lilkened the
coo to. the sound of water being poured from a
bottle, the cock bowing and spreading his tail at
the same time, when making love to the hen; she,
however, was very quiet, and the only sound she
ever made was a little “huh.”

This pair of birds, in addition to their seed diet,
were very fond of insects—flies, beetles, and ants,
also mollusca, whether small snails or slugs; they

PLATE Q.

I, 2.—HEN BRONZE-WING PIGEON. 3.—Cock BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
*4, 5, 6.—PARTRIDGE BRONZE-WINGS. 7.—Cock BrusH BRONZE-WING.
8.—Cock BRUSH BRONZE-WING AND BLEEDING HEartT PIGEON.
9.-—Cock BrusH BRONZE-WING AND Ruppy (OR Dwarr) TurTLe Dove.
1o.—Cock SoLirary GRouND Dove. j
1z1.—Cock SOLiraRy GROUND Dover and RupDpy TurtLe Doves.
12.—HEN INDIAN GREEN-WINGED DOVE.
13.—Cock INDIAN GREEN-WINGED DOVE AND BarBaRy Dove.
Photographs by Mr. D. S vth-Smith, F.Z.S., M.B.0.U,

68 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

also ate earwigs and spiders. Dr. Greene dis-
covered this accidentally when he one day saw his
doves disputing with his Pekin Robins over some
insects (provided for the latter birds) and gobbling
down the dainties as fast as they could. Though
the Tambourines were very wild when first they
came, they soon settled down, and would tale
mealworms and insects from the hand. Dr.
Greene considers this insect food, combined with
the seed diet, as most essential to the health of
these doves, and he also advises a constant supply
of cuttlefish bone should be given. I believe, from
my Own experience, that doves thrive better and
keep in finer plumage if a little soft food (that is,
insectivorous food moistened and mixed with half
biscuit, crushed) is given in addition to the seed.
Dr. Greene’s birds made a nest of sticlks on the top
of a Hartz canary cage, but unfortunately he did
not realise that the doves needed heat in winter,
and both the birds died when the cold weather set
in—first the hen, and a little Jater the cock.

To Dr. Butler belongs the honour of having
been the first to breed the Tambourine in this
country, but not till he had suffered many dis-
appointments and expectations that only ended in
nothing.

Many people think it is very easy to breed doves.
I grant they will easily make nests and lay eggs,
but to. rear young birds to maturity is a very
different matter—one has to be prepared, like
King Bruce’s spider, to “‘try, try again.’”

Those aviculturalists who have at last succeeded
in breeding a rare bird for the first time, after
many failures, can understand the joy of final
success. Dr. Butler’s birds made nests, laid eggs,
hatched them or not, let the young birds die, and
this not once or twice, before any young were
really reared. He tells us how the young birds
were 12 or 13 days old when he first dared to look
at them. They were then about the size of a
sparrow, and of most singular appearance. Most
young doves have at first long downy-like hairs
intermixed with the feathers, and in the young
Tambourines these hairs were very marked, Com-
pared with the parents, they were very tawny, and
of course the white parts were not visible. It is
curious that the white breasts of any adult doves
are seldom if ever seen in the young birds; what
will be white later is generally buffish or grey
colour.

One of Dr. Butler’s little Tambourines met with
a sad accident which ended in its death. Both
young ones jumped out of the nest, being suddenly
startled by the cock bird, and fell on to the hard
cement floor; one escaped injury, but the other died
three days later, though apparently unhurt at the
time. The uninjured bird was successfully reared,

though it was slow in being able to fly or do for
itself.

Though the Tambourine. dove is very lovely, I
cannot say I found my own three birds very
interesting, They spent nearly all their time in
the shelter, and only came out some times into the
flight, generally towards evening; they greatly
enjoyed sitting out in a heavy shower of rain,
standing lilke a statue with the head thrown back ;
but these little doves seem too lazy to care to move
about much, and the alertness of most of the
smaller doves seems to be lacking in them—they
just sit still for you to admire them, and that one
can do very honestly. :

I used to hear my cocks cooing, and once I saw
one carrying a twig about; but they made no
further effort towards nesting. Once when I had
to catch one it cried and moaned like a child with
fright, in much the same way that an Aurita dove
does.

INDIAN GREEN-WINGED DOVE.
(Chalcophaps Indica).

Habitat—From India, Ceylon, Burmah and
South China, through the Malay Peninsula and the
Malay Archipelago to West New Guinea and the
Islands in Geelvink Bay.

Length.—About ro inches.
and thiclx set.

Colouring.—Adult male—Forehead and _ strealc
above eye white, crown and back of head leaden
grey; back of neck, throat and breast rich maroon
(rather lighter on under parts); shoulder butts
whitish grey, wings and upper back bright
“bottle”? green, the lower back blackish barred
across with grey; long quill wing feathers
blackish, bill bright sealing-wax red, with dusky
cere; iris darlx brown, feet crimson. The hen is
chestnut brown where the cock is maroon; she is
rather a darker shade on the back of the neclx, her
shoulder butts are chestnut, and the white on her
forehead smaller and not so pure; lower bacls

Shape, rather short

chestnut, wings bright green with blackish quills, —

feet crimson, bill bright red.

WILD LIFE,

This beautiful little dove is common in India,
and is often sold in the Calcutta market, or im-
ported for sale to England. Dr. Butler tells us
that ‘“‘the Malays are said to give the name of
‘Fool Pigeon’ to this bird on account of the ease
with which they capture it. Concealing them-
selves behind an arbour of branches in a clearing,
they scatter rice around, and the birds crowd round
in such numbers and with so little suspicion that
they are seized one after the other by the hand

Me
%

THE BRONZE-WING PIGEON. 69

and drawn into the arbour, the remaining doves
being too absorbed to notice the disappearance of
their comrades.’? On the other hand, in Upper
Assam this bird is described as being shy.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have never bred this beautiful dove myself,
though I have kept numerous specimens since
1898. One of these earlier birds escaped, but not
being able to fly well he was soon recovered. The
hen tormented and chased the cock; she was not
a good feathered specimen, and always looked
hump-backed. I kept the doves in the heated
aviary that winter, and turned them out in April
of the next year. I did not find them very interest-
ing; they kept much in the shelter, and in the
summer came out to roost at night.

In January, 1901, one of my birds nearly died
of cold. I found it in a state of collapse, trembling
and the feet clenched. I brought to the heated
aviary and placed it on the hot pipes, and gave it
a little brandy and water. The moans of the poor
bird were pitiful to hear, but after a time it came
round, and though it ate nothing all day, by the
next morning it seemed all.right. I still have one
of my original birds; he must be by now at least
ten years old, and is still in perfect plumage and
as young locking as ever. Last year I got a good
breeding bird as a mate for him, but she has not
found much favour with my old cock; he seems
only interested in himself, and they have made no
attempt to nest.

The Indian Greenwing has been bred several
times in private aviaries. Dr. Russ bred it freely,
the nest being formed in a wire cage hanging high
up. Mr. Seth-Smith bred this dove in 1904. The
hen was a very old bird that had nested and laid
eggs whilst in her former owner’s possession. A
new mate being obtained for her, they started
nesting, though not till the spring after the cock’s
arrival. Several young birds were reared. The
young were very small on leaving the nest; their
heads were almost bare, but the wings were fully
feathered and they could fly well. In colour the
young birds were a “‘very dark brown, almost
black, broadly tipped with reddish brown’’; even
then a few green feathers were visible on the back
and wings. The change in the plumage was
gradual, and in the first adult feathering the colour

was not so bright as in the old birds. The two
eggs were cream colour, not white.
Mr. Thomasset tells us how his cock (the

original mate of the bird referred to above) would
coo and caress the hen. He would depress the
head and breast, and arching his wings above his

back, show off all his beautiful green plumage
while displaying to her.

Dr. Greene gives a long account both of his own
Greenwings and also the nesting of a pair in
Wales. These latter birds stood the severe winter
of 1881 out of doors, when the thermometer went
down to 3 degrees below zero. The nest was built
in the shelter (in a small dead spruce), and was
composed of twigs, and the young birds were
hatched out three times during the season. Owing
to numerous accidents, however, they were not all
reared. In this aviary was a very mixed collec-
tion of birds, from Crested doves and parrakeets
down to Zebra finches; the aviary was only 24 feet
long by 14 feet wide, with a sleeping-house 12 feet
by 6 feet, and this is not a large space for so many
birds of different kinds, to have any hope of
successful nesting. ,

Dr. Greene tells us that the young Greenwings
resemble the hen until after the first moult, but
are wanting the bronze reflections of the adult bird.
The young were hatched in about 17 days, and in
about three weeks left the nest, but were fed by the
parents for some time longer. There were two
broods during the season, but so many as four
have been known. Both Dr. Greene and another
writer give the Greenwing a character for bad
temper. In the one case the hen drew blood from
the male with her bill, plucking out many feathers
every time he tried to caress her; in the other
instance a pair had lived together for years and
reared numerous young ones, when suddenly the
cock turned upon the hen and ended in murdering
her.

I cannot say I have found my own birds fierce
either with each other or with other doves, my
first hen being the exception, but she did nothing
serious. At the time Dr. Greene wrote Indian
Greenwings were 30- to 4o/- a pair. I paid 18/6
for my four birds in 1900; the average price now is
about 12/6 a pair. These doves were kept at the
Zoo in 1856, and many times since.

THE BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
(Phaps chalcoptera).

Habitat.—Australia and Tasmania.

Length.—Over 15 inches. Shape,
heavy, with short thick legs.

Colouring.—Adult male—The forehead rich buff,
a white line runs across each side of the face under
the eye, the breast is a lovely shade of soft purple
shading into grey on the abdomen, the sides of the
neck (merging into the breast) deep slate grey.
The wings are very beautiful, being adorned with
four rows of gorgeous metallic feathers, the first

long and

70 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

three green, changing to rich fiery copper, the last
row large patches of violet, changing into Prussian
blue. The rest of the body is very like the
plumage of a pheasant, being brownish mottled
feathers, the crown of the head olive brown, with
a dull purplish band over the eye. The hen has a
whitish forehead, her breast is paler, not so rich a
shade of purple. The bronze in the wings is more
greenish gold in the first three rows and purple in
the hind row (lacking the red copper and blue in
the coclx) ; her shape and mottling is very pheasani-
like. The eyes are full and dark, the feet salmon
red, the beak slaty black. In shape the Bronze-
wing is rather long than rounded; it is a heavily-
built bird, and the legs loolx rather short in propor-
tion to the body.

WILD LIFE.

Perhaps there is no foreign pigeon that has been
written about in its wild state so much as the
Bronze-wing. Gould says of them: ‘‘They love to
dwell on the most sterile plains, where
they feed almost exclusively on grass-
seeds, and whence, on the approach of
evening, they wing their way, with
arrow-like swiftness, to the water-holes
many miles distant.’’

“In the maps the name of ‘Pigeon
Ponds,’ given to welcome pools of
water, still marks the mode of their
first discovery,’’ so says Dixon in his
account of the Bronze-wing. He also
gives us some of the experiences of
Captain Sturt, whose vivid pen-pic-
tures make us realise how valuable is
this trait of the Australian pigeons in
unconsciously guiding those travellers
in need of water.

To understand how great that need
is, let us hear first what Captain Sturt
says about his personal experience of
the heat of Australia during his all but
successful effort to reach the centre of
the continent.

He says: ‘‘Stones that had lain in
the sun were with difficulty held in the
hand; the men could not always keep
their feet within the glowing stirrups;
if a match fell to the ground it ignited, and the
earth was thoroughly heated to the depth of three
or four feet; their hair ceased to grow, and their
nails were as brittle as glass; the atmosphere on
some occasions was so rarified that they felt a
difficulty in breathing, and a burning sensation on
the crown of the head as if an hot iron had been
there; they were obliged to bury their wax candles
to keep them from melting away; they planted
seeds in the bed of the creek, but the sun burnt

them to cinders the moment they appeared above
the ground.”’ At three o’clock in the afternoon the
thermometer in the sun was 157 degrees.

I should like to give you Captain Sturt’s account
in his own words how he was greatly in need of
water and how he was guided to it by a pigeon,
but I have not, unfortunately, space to give it in
detail. It is very pathetic. He tells us how, when
they were badly in need of water, none of the
horses would eat, save one called ‘‘Traveller.”
They all collected round him as he sat under a tree,
and his own horse pulled his hat off his head to call
his attention to their thirst, but no water was to be
had; so the men saddled again and they proceeded
onwards. At the head of the valley poor
“Traveller”? dropped down dead, and when they
finally came to the place where they fully expected
to find water it was gone. Captain Sturt poked
his finger in the mud, and moistened his lips with
a little water that oozed into the holes.
“Suddenly a pigeon topped the sand-hill—it being

THE BRONZE-WINGED PIGEON.

Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avicultural Magazine.

the first bird we had seen—a solitary bird; passed
us like lightning, it pitched for a moment, and a
moment only, on the plain, about a quarter of a
mile from us, and then flew away.’’ Mr. Sturt
marked the spot, and there was water—water that
in their most desperate condition meant life.
Temminclk tells us that the Bronze-wing makes
its nest “‘in the holes of trees at a slight distance
from the ground, often on the ground itself, and
lays two white eggs; their principal food is a small

BRUSH BRONZE-WING PIGEON. 71

fruit resembling a cherry; the kernels of this fruit
are always found in their gizzard.’’ After the
breeding season the Bronze-wings gather in flocks
in the stubble-fields, where Gould says 30 or 40
brace may be killed in one day. This pigeon is
considered very good to eat, and is often shot as
in England we should shoot gamebirds. The
breeding season in Australia is from August to
December. .

Dr. Butler tells us that the nests are often built
in the horizontal branch of an apple or gum tree,
and that the Bronze-wing loves to live in the dis-
tricts where the acacias trees are found (on the
edge of the sandy flats), as it lives largely on their
seeds; it often rears two or more broods in a
season.

Mr. Campbell notes that the Bronze-wing was
first so called as far back as 1789; he mentions that
this pigeon will fly within 50 yards of water, and
always walks into it, mostly in the evening, but
a few birds come in the morning. Having
quenched its thirst, it will wallx a few yards out of
the water and then fly away. The Bronze-wing
will feign a broken limb to lure you away from
the young birds. The nestlings, we are told, suffer
much from the crows, who are known to kill and
eat them.

Dr. Leichard gives the red fruit of Rhagodia and
the blackberries of a species of Jasmine as the chief
food of the Bronze-wing.

LIFE &N CAPTIVITY.

This lovely pigeon is deservedly a great favourite,
for it is tame, hardy, and easy to keep, apart from
its great beauty. It was bred at the Zoo so far
back as 1868, and has been bred both there and in
private aviaries many times since; indeed, it is
almost the easiest to breed of all foreign pigeons
in captivity.

As a proof of their kindly nature, we are told of
a tiny Passerine dove that formed a devoted friend-
ship with a hen Bronze-wing. So hardy are these
pigeons that they have been known to bathe when
ice has been in the bath.

My own pair of Bronze-wings I have had for
years. I had at first two cocks and one hen, and
gave the lady her choice of the two. She was not
long in making up her mind, and seems never to
have repented it, for they are a most devoted
couple; but the strange part is that while the dis-
carded bird was a magnificent cock, perfect in
every way, the favoured one was blind on one side,
the eye being completely gone. Perhaps it was a
case of ‘‘pity being akin to love,’’ but certain it is
the hen never wavered, and it used to be most
amusing to watch these two birds perched facing

each other, gazing into each other’s eyes as if they
were entranced.

Every year I have reared several young birds,
but nearly all are cocks; it is very seldom I have
any hens.

I find my Bronze-wings, but especially the hen,
very fond of wineberries, not quite ripe; the fruit is
like a very small raspberry, but bright orange-red
in colour, and the birds like them best before they
get soft. Apart from its use as an article of food
for my doves—other kinds liking the berries besides
the Bronze-wings—the wineberry is a very pretty
shrub and would make a splendid hedge.

The young Bronze-wings are very pretty, being
brownish with the feathers edged with a lighter
shade; the white marks above and below the eyes
are very distinct, and the little cock shows his buff
forehead whilst still in the nest; the ‘‘bronze’’ does
not appear till later.

Mr. Seth-Smith tells us his young ones left the
nest at two weelxs old, and were fed till six weelxs
old or more by the parent birds. The eggs are
large and white, and incubation lasts 17 to 19 days,
the cocls sitting during the day, the hen at night.
The Bronze-wing is one of the kindest and most
good-tempered of doves towards its own tribe. I
have known my old hen not only brood her own
young one, but also a little Solitary ground dove
that was about the same age. The Bronze-wing’s
coo has been likened by one writer to the lowing
of cows in the distance, and by another to the
groan of a wounded horse. It is a deep note and
rather solemn.

A short time ago I was much interested in
watching my birds making love to each other; the
cock drew himself up, swept his tail in a fan, and
burying his bealx in his breast, strucls an attitude;
then, still in the same position, walked partly
round the hen. She dabbed her bealx several times
on the shelf (both birds were standing on a broad
wooden shelf that runs along the aviary front), and
then came up to the cock and kissed him again
and again on the neclx and face; she then went
a little way from him and spread out her nearest
wing fanwise to him, showifig all the metallic
feathers. The affection of this pair of birds for
each other is very great. I have had them now
nearly seven years.

The Bronze-wing has been known to eat earth-
worms besides its seed diet; probably it would eat
mealworms too.

A flock of these pigeons are wild at Woburn
Abbey; and ten were turned out at the Zoo as an

experiment. The Tasmanian birds are said to be
more brilliant than the Australian ones. The value
of the Bronze-wing varies very much. I paid 48/-

for my three birds. I have seen them offered for

72 : ) MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

BrusH BRONZE-WING PIGEON AND NEs?T.

1.—FEMALE ON Nest, Mate PERCHED NEAR.
2.—NESTLING, 16 DAYS OLD.
3.—MALE COVERING NESTLINGS.

Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avicultural Magazine.

as much as 50/- a pair, or odd ones for as little as

7/6 or less. The French call this pigeon Luma-
chelle. It is a very hardy bird, and can stand the
winter out of doors.

BRUSH BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
(Phaps elegans).

Habitat.—Southern Australia, from Swan River
on the west to Moreton Bay on the east, Tasmania,
and Islands in Bass’s Straits. ;

Length.—About 13 inches. Shape, rounded,
and well proportioned.

Colouving.—Adult male—Crown of head grey,
forehead bright sable red. A white line runs
behind the eye; the breast and neclx slate grey, a
triangular patch of dark chestnut on the throat.
Back of neck and mantle reddish chocolate; back
and wings warm chestnut. The bands of metallic
feathers very vivid across the wings. The first
band shows green and orange-red reflections, the
second band blue and green.

The adult female has breast and neck dun-grey.
Back, wings and tail olive-brown; the forehead
and top of head dun-grey, sometimes slightly chest-
nut; the sides of head and over eye rich chestnut,
coming down over the baclx of the neck, and out-
lining the sides of the throat. There is a creamy
white patch behind the eye. The metallic colours
are on the wings, but not so large nor rich in
colour as the cock. The eyes of both birds are
round and darlx, the feet and legs in both sexes
bright pink-red. The youn& birds are brownish
with the edges of the feathers rufous brown. At
26 days old a rich chestnut tinge has appeared on
the neck. The sexes can then be distinguished,
the male showing more white on the cheeks and
chestnut on the nape and forehead. At the age of
nine or ten weeks the young bird has changed into
the adult plumage.

WILD LIFE.

This pigeon prefers the more scrubby localities,
especially those that are low and swampy. Gould
writes: ‘‘J ‘have never seen it perch on the
branches of trees. When flushed it rises with a
loud burring noise similar to that made by the
rising of a partridge.” ‘‘It is a very difficult bird
to shoot, from it inhabiting the denser part of the
scrub, from which it is not easily driven. It flies
but little, rarely for a greater distance than to cross
a gully or top a ridge before it again abruptly
descends into the scrub. Its food consists of seeds
and berries of various kinds, particularly in
Tasmania of a plant called Boobyaller.”’ Its note
is low and mournful, and is given at evening more
than any other time.

a
q

BRUSH BRONZE-WING PIGEON. ~ 73

Mr. Campbell tells us that in Western Australia
this pigeon is fond of placing its nest in the fork
of a grass tree. Mr. Brent noticed that the Brush
Bronze-wing usually chooses the shady sides of
deep gullies for nesting places. The bird ‘‘breeds
almost any time of the season, but usually during
the months from October to January.”’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

To Mr. D. Seth-Smith belongs the honour of
first breeding this most beautiful pigeon in this
country, in 1904. Up to this time the Brush
Bronze-wing was almost unknown in English
aviaries, though one was purchased for the Zoo-
logical Gardens in 1881. Mr. Seth-Smith has
given us some very interesting notes on this bird.
He tells us how he purchased three birds, two
cocks and a hen, and how from the very first these
birds were tame, and directly they were turned out
into his aviary the cocks began to pick up sticks
to build a nest with, and bow and coo to the hen.

They started nesting within two or three days of
their arrival, when one cock was removed away
and the pair left together. My own Brush Bronze-
wings when nesting have been very particular as
to carrying plenty of material up for their nest;
indeed, this has proved before now an unfortunate
trait. I tie up nesting tins for my doves, with just
a small quantity of dead heather in to start them;
and heather is also thrown on the floor for the
birds to pick up and arrange in the nest them-

* selves. My Brush Bronze-wings had built their
nest and seemed sitting well, one or two eggs
haying been laid, when I had to put down more
heather for the benefit of some other nesting doves
in the same aviary. The sight of it was evidently
too much for the Bronze-wings, for they persisted
in adding more material to the finished nest, a
proceeding in no way good for the eggs under-
neath.

Mr. Seth-Smith noticed with his birds a very
interesting fact whilst they were building. The
hen sat on the nest, the cock fetching all the
material, which she arranged, and often he would
settle on her baclx and, bending over her, pass her
the twig over the head, which she would take away
from him and tuck in its place, whilst he would
descend for more; the idea evidently being that
in this way the nest was undisturbed.

' Just ten days after Mr. Seth-Smith’s birds
arrived the first egg was laid, and the next day
the second followed. Lile all other of the dove
tribe, the cock sat during the day, the hen taking
his place on the nest at night. One egg was
fertile and hatched, and at first the young one
received most devoted attention from its parents,
* then came that disappointing experience which is

the common lot of those who keep doves; the
parents began to want to nest again before the first
young one could do for itself, with the result that
it eventually drooped and died. This is about the
worst trouble one has to contend with in breeding
doves; the building, laying eggs, and hatching are
easy enough, but rearing the young birds—that is
quite a different matter.

A second time the birds nested, and again the
same danger threatened, then as the hen seemed
the worst parent, she was removed from the
aviary, and the coclsbird, having nothing now to
distract his attention, began again to feed the
young ones well. One of the poor little things,
however, died; the other pulled through, and
changed into adult male plumage when about ten
weeks old. Even when in the nest the sex of the
two young ones could easily be seen, the young
cock showing much more buff on the forehead than
his little sister.

Later on in the year, when the weather began
to be warmer, the Bronze-wings nested without
any trouble (the hen having been given the second
cock for a mate), and the young birds hatched
were able to fly as strongly at three weelxs old as
the first young bird could at six; further, a week
later, when a month old, these two young doves
could feed themselves. The old birds, at the time
Mr. Seth-Smith wrote, were sitting again.

The Brush Bronze-wing is one of the prettiest
of all the dove tribe usually seen in aviaries. It is
so plump and compact in shape, and the colouring
is most harmonious and beautiful. They do not
seem to ever get very low in price, and a pair of
good birds would fetch 25/- to 30/-, though odd
specimens would not cost nearly so much. The
cock when cooing to the hen spreads his tail and
beautiful metallic wings, and bobs up and down
like the Crested pigeon. °

I have found the Brush Bronze-wings very
devoted to each other, and to their eggs and
young. My present pair are a model couple.
While one bird is sitting its mate will frequently
sit close by the nest, and I remember once when
one of the young ones fell out (when only a few
days old) finding the hen sitting brooding it on the
floor as it lay dying, for it was injured badly. The
poor little mother’s heart must have been sadly
divided, for the remaining young one was still up
above and too young to be left alone. The young
birds when they leave the nest are still covered
with long down-like hairs as well as feathers, the
latter being mostly dark brown edged with a
lighter shade, while the down is buff colour and
stands up amongst the feathers. The eyes are
very round and bright, and “have the innocent
wondering look that all young doves have—as if

a4 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

the world were something very new and strange,
as indeed it must first seem to them when they
leave the nest and come amongst other birds. I
should consider the Brush Bronze-wing quite a
hardy dove.

PARTRIDGE BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
(Geophaps scripta).

Habitat.—North-Western and Eastern Aus-
tralia, from Rockingham Bay through the interior
to Victoria.

Length.—About 12 inches.
rather long in body.

Colouring.—Adult male—pale brown above the
upper part of the wings with paler tips to the
feathers; on the lower half of the
wings rich purplish-green metallic
patches. The forehead is ashy, the
face marked with black and white
stripes, one stripe going beneath the
eye, another behind it. The eye is
black, surrounded with naked blue
skin, and the corner of the eye reddish.
The black on the face forms a
crescent across the lower part of the
throat, the flanks are white, the
abdomen grey, the feet purplish
crimson, The hen is like the cock,
but slighter and rather smaller. The
legs of this dove seem rather short in
proportion to its size, but more fitted
to a bird that keeps so much on the
ground.

Shape, rounded, but

WVIOEID) 10 )031355

The flesh of the Partridge Bronze-
wing, or as it is called in Australia,
the Squatter pigeon, is considered
delicious eating and equal in flavour
to the Wonga-Wonga. Campbell
speaks of this Bronze-wing going
about in little flocks of five or six
birds, and that it will run and squat down to hide
itself when it suspects danger. Its nest, contrary
to others of the pigeon tribe, is made in a hollow
in the ground and lined with soft dead grass; the
eggs are white and two in number.

The Partridge pigeon breeds at almost any time
of the year, but usually from September or October
onwards. The food consists of grass and seeds,
and at certain seasons berries and insects. This
bird can run with great speed, and when it
“squats’’ will almost allow itself to be trodden on.
If obliged to rise it flies off with a great noise and
settles again, either on the plain or the out-
stretched branch of a tree, along which it squats
like a night jar, in the same line as the limb.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

This gentle little pigeon has not long been well
Inown to English aviculturalists. One bird was
presented to the Zoo in 1883, and in 1891 some
eggs were laid (several other birds having been
acquired since the original one) and hatched by a
Barbary Turtle-dove; the young birds, however,
only lived 14 days.

To Mr. T. H. Newman, our greatest living
authority on doves and pigeons, belongs the

honour of raising the Partridge Bronze-wing to
maturity (for the first time in England) in his own
aviaries. Mr. Newman gives us a most full and
interesting account of the nesting, from which I
have only space to recount a few facts.

PARTRIDGE BRONZE-WING PIGEON.

Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avicultuval Magazine.

His birds spent nearly all their time on the
ground, and would roost in a little group, their
heads pointing in different directions, their tails
coming close together in the centre. The old birds
were greatly attached to each other, were seldom
far goons and lkept up a running conversation in,

a low ‘‘crooning”’ tone.

These pigeons have a way of rising on oa
and giving their wings a vigorous flap. The cocls
used to go through some most amusing little ways
when he met the hen; he would raise his head and
back feathers, elevate his tail and wings, and
thrice repeat a hurried coo.

I had a pair of these Bronze-wings myself, and
loved to watch the cock going through his

Si eG A al

+e

THE PLUMED GROUND DOVE.

“I
On

postures; he did them with much solemnity, as if
it were the most important thing in the world; but
the hen, I suppose, was used to it, and tools it all
very quietly. J never reared any young ones,
though my hen laid several eggs. I found them
very gentle little birds, and very attractive
additions to my collection of doves and pigeons;
everyone who saw them admired them.

But to return to Mr. Newman’s birds. His old
pair were very tame, but the young ones were
much wilder. I have often found this the case
with doves, and one nervous young one will put
an whole aviary in a flutter; so it is wise to remove
the young from nesting birds as soon as they are
well grown and there is no doubt about their being
able to do for themselves. In April Mr. Newman’s
birds started nesting, but this first attempt was a
failure; in May, however, the birds tried again,
and one young one was reared. This bird would
sit by the old bird beside the nest whilst a third
pair of eggs were being hatched, and, unlike most
doves, the affection of the parents did not cease as
the first young bird grew older, for it was fed
(with the younger bird) by them until it was
between nine and ten weeks old and almost their
own size.

A curious fact about the young birds is that
they begin to moult before the first plumage is
complete, so that by the time the young one is full
grown it is in adult feather. The young birds,
when first they leave the nest, run about very
actively ; they utter a sort of chirping whistle and
nestle under the parent birds. When about 13
days old the white face markings begin to appear.
The incubation of the eggs lasts 17 days, and the
young bird first leaves the nest at about nine days
old. The Partridge Bronze-wing is the most
amiable of pigeons, and Mr. Newman’s six birds
used all to roost together in a group.

When one considers how this sweet little pigeon
is prized in our English aviaries, it is sad to think
of the little value put upon it in its own land. We
are told how in quite recent years 400 of these
ground doves were caught and offered to the
Sydney dealers, who declined them; but finally a
party of pigeon shooters bought the lot, and they
were all used in shooting matches.

Poor little birds! They were said to be ‘‘very
numerous”’ in the neighbourhood then, three years
ago; we wonder if they are so now!

The Partridge Bronze-wing was bred in the
Melbourne Zoo in 1894.

I do not know the value of these doves a pair,
‘for my own birds were given to me; but they are
rarer than the ordinary Bronze-wing. My birds
laid ‘several lots of eggs in a large box lined with
earth and sods that I placed for them in the aviary.

“cc

They sat very well, and one could not help noting
how like the sitting bird was to the colour of the
earth, and how in their wild state it must be very
difficult to discover their nests. A hen Red Moun-
tain dove who had taken a fancy to the Partridge
doves used to sit in the box with them, though not,
of course, on the eggs. J never had any young
birds, perhaps because my little hen was delicate;
and eventually I lost both her and the cock.
In some way the hen had unfortunately sprained
her leg, and though she was*able to get about, I
do not think she ever quite recovered.

The cock bird had two different kinds of coos,
but with one he made no display. I never exposed
my birds to much cold, so do not feel sure if it
would try them or not, but they loolk much more
fragile than the other Bronze-wings, and it seems
dangerous to expose partly ground birds to our
cold and wet winters.

CHAPTER VIII.

CRESTED DOVE AND PIGEON.
The Plumed Ground Dove.
,, Australian Crested Pigeon.

THE PLUMED GROUND DOVE.
(Lophophaps leucogaster).

Habitat.—Southern Australia and North-West
Australia; but according to Gould, ‘‘the whole of
Central Australia, the Gulf District, and the
intertor of Northern and North-Western Aus-
tralia.’”

Length.—About 8 inches.

Colouring.—General colour rich cinnamon fawn.
A long upright crest (like that of the Crested Dove)
on the head, of fawn and grey. The top of the
head and a patch behind and below the bare slxin
round the eye, blue-grey. Above this face patch
and also in front of it are two patches of white,
that in front going under the chin; the upper
throat below this is blackish. The lower throat
and wings cinnamon fawn, the wings having
black and grey irregular marks across them,
giving the bird an almost barred appearance. On
the lower part of each wing a large purplish
metallic spot. The back is brownish fawn, the
feathers still edged, but not nearly so distinctly
as in the wings; the tail is the same colour, but
with a blackish tip to it. Below the cinnamon on
the lower throat is a white line right across the
breast and extending almost behind the shoulders.
This is bordered again by a black and greyish
band, the breast below is whitish, the feet red, and
the bill slate; the iris is orange, surrounded by a

76 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

patch of bare red skin, pointed in shape at each
end. On the upper edge (dividing it from the
grey crown) is a narrow blackish line. The sexes
are alilke, but the cocl: is a trifle larger than the
hen.

WILD LIFE.

The little plumed Ground Dove loves the rocky
country, and so is sometimes called in its own land
the Rock Pigeon. They are strictly ground birds,
and never perch in trees, but love to bask in the
hot sun on the rocky side of the gorges, keeping
together in small flocks. Being very much the
colour of the sand, these little doves may easily
escape notice, but it is easy to approach close to
them. A writer, who has travelled in Australia,
says of them: ‘‘These charming little birds are so
tame in their natural state that they will hardly
trouble to move out of the way of the horses’ hoofs
as one rides along some track or primitive road in
the Australian bush; and their soft coo is heard
on all sides.”

When disturbed, these birds rise with a whirr
like a quail, but when fairly on the wing their
flight is a gliding one. They can run very fast,
and nest on the ground, laying two eggs, creamy
white in colour and with a dull surface. The nest,
composed of a few straws, is just a slight depres-
sion in the ground, often close to a tussock of
porcupine grass. Mr. Keartland tells us further
that one of his camel drivers found a nest ‘‘con-
taining two young ones nearly able to fly. They
were entirely brown, but others probably a weelx
older were found, which had developed the black
and white on the throat and head, which were
invisible on the nestlings, as the feathers had not
formed on these parts.’’? The flesh of the Plumed
Ground dove is very white, and is said to be
delicious eating.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I cannot write much from my own experience
of keeping the Plumed Dove, for the one specimen
I possess I have had such a short time, and one I
had some years ago only came to me on its way to
someone else. Mr. Seth-Smith, however, gives us
some very interesting notes of these little doves.
He tells us how he kept five specimens, two
cocks and three hens, but they fought so amongst
themselves that he found that it was impossible to
keep more than one pair together. Then, too, like
the Bleeding Heart pigeon, the cock bird seems
given to chasing and tormenting his own hen,
though at the same time he may be very fond of
her, and a minute before may have been caressing
her most affectionately.

Mr. Seth-Smith put his one pair of plumed doves
(he had sent the other three birds away), into a

large out-door aviary, but within an hour the doves

began to worry the Quails and Hermipodes so

much that the little tyrants had to be taken away
and put in a smaller aviary, the outer part of which
was turfed. The hen laid two eggs very shortly
afterwards, and at once began to sit, though she
had made no nest. A terrible thunderstorm, how-
ever, caused her to desert the eggs, and though she
laid several clutches later she never incubated
them.

The cock, when cooing to the hen, bows up and
down, with outspread tail and wings, showing off
his purple metallic patches very bravely. Mr. Seth-
Smith’s birds became so tame that when he entered
the aviary the cock would run up and start dis-
playing and then make a little charge, uttering
quite a savage “‘coo’’ as if to show the aviary was
his and no mere mortal had the right to enter.

The Plumed dove is not delicate, and possibly
might winter out of doors provided it had a dry
warm shelter to go into. These doves are fond of
grass seeds, and if the aviary has no turf run, a
piece should be dug up and a sod placed for them
to peck at.

In 1795 a pair of these birds nested at the
Zoological Gardens and hatched and reared two
young ones.

AUSTRALIAN CRESTED PIGEON.
(Ocyphaps lophotes).

Habitat.—Interior of North and East Australia,
from Port Darwin and Port Essington to South
Australia.

Length.—About 12 inches.
tioned and graceful.

Colouring.—The head, face, throat, breast, and
abdomen grey. A crest of blackish plumes on the
head; the nape brown-grey, back and rump olive-
grey. The sides of neck and breast have a pinkish
wash. The wings on the shoulder parts buffish
grey, the feathers being tipped with black, giving
the wings a barred appearance. Lower down the
wing becomes metallic, first a broad band of green
and white, then a band of purple; the tail feathers
are also metallic, but in a lesser degree than the
wings. The eyes are buffy orange, the nalxed skin
round them pink, the bill olive-black, the feet and
legs pink-red. The female similar to the male,
but rather smaller. :

Shape, well propor-

WILD LIFE.

Captain Sturt says of the Crested Pigeon: ‘‘The
locality of this beautiful pigeon is always near
water. It is a bird of the depressed interior (parts
of the interior of Australia are below the level of
the sea, reminding us of the Dead Sea, another

AUSTRALIAN CRESTED PIGEON. 77

sterile hollow on the earth’s surface), never ascend-
ing to higher land, where there are extensive
marshes covered with Polygonium geranium. Jn
the river valleys, on the flats of which the same
bramble grows, Ocyphaps lophotes is sure to be
found, but there is no part of the interior over
which I have travelled where it is not, and it is
very evident that its range is right across the con-
tinent from north to south.”

Campbell tells us how fond the Crested pigeon
is of water—that it flies into it, and drinks like a
horse, sucking the water in, and stays for a little
time by the water-pool after it has finished drink-
ing. He also mentions the whistling sound of its
wings when in flight, and how it jerks up its tail
on alighting on a bough. It is few of us who have
had the pleasure of watching a captive Crested
dove enjoy its liberty—having escaped from an
aviary—with the happy ending to the owner of
recovering it in a few hours. A writer
who had this experience was much
struck by the bird’s flight, which was
almost straight up into the air like a
rocket, “clapping his wings against his
body all the time as he ascended, then
he held up his wings and descended ~
rapidly at a very acute angle till he
reached about the same level from
which he started, and then he flew away
and alighted on the top of a larch
tree about a hundred yards off, and up
went his tail as he poised himself, which
he did without difficulty on the thin
twigs.” As the hen was being used as
decoy in a trap cage this was probably
the cock’s love dance, for he went
through the performance again and
again. His crest when flying low was
always carried on his neck, and the
rapidity of his flight very great; he did
not even cheek it when alighting, but
just threw up his tail to arrest his
momentum. The flesh of the Crested
pigeon is said to be neither very tender
nor yet well flavoured. The nest is very fragile,
and is built in low shrubs in exposed situations;
two eggs are laid.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

Most people who have kept any foreign pigeons
have kept the Crested or Marsh pigeon, for it is a
general favourite, being very hardy and easy to
breed, so many as five broods being bred in one
season. It is, however, a bad-tempered bird
towards others of its tribe whilst nesting, and one
pair I had were most disturbing—they had a mania
for sitting, and sitting well, on other doves’ eggs,
each bird taking a separate nest; they even hatched
one Necklace dove’s egg.

At last I gave them a small aviary to themselves,
and here they brought up several young ones. The
young birds are very pretty, soft grey in colour,
with tiny crests even before they leave the nest,
but the eyes are dark, and the skin round them
darlx also, though at two months old it is red, as
in the adult bird. The parents are very devoted,
and one of my young ones was still being fed at
the age of five weeks old. The late Mr. Cresswell
had one young Crested dove that was so precocious
that at 13 days old it flew from its nest to a high
perch.

I noticed that when my coclbird was angry he
would always lower his crest flat before he made
an attack on another bird, and the ordinary coo
(which is more like a barlx and sounds like “‘whuff,
whuff’’) was changed for a snapping noise with its
bealx, rather lilke the sound made by an owl. Even
in so small a space as an aviary the Crested dove

AUSTRALIAN CRESTED PIGEON.
Photo by Mr. D. Seth-Smith.
From The Avicultural Magazine,

still retains its habit of jerking up its tail when
alighting, and very graceful it looks when doing
it, for it is a most shapely bird, and its upright
crest of fine hair-like feathers (which look as if
they had been wetted and then brushed to a point)
give it a very distinguished appearance. When
cooing to the hens my cock birds used to spread
their tails like fans, arch the wings above the back,
and so display all the beautiful metallic colours to
the best advantage, bobbing up and down mean-
while as if they were on springs. In one instance
only have I heard of a cock showing off by trailing
and spreading his wing.

Once I had a hen Crested dove that in some un-

78 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS

known way injured her wing and was never able
to fly again. I placed her a sort of ladder (made
of a sloping branch) up to the fir boughs that were
lashed to the aviary walls, and she was soon able
to mount up to the highest point, right up under
the roof. She was apt, however, if startled, to lose
her balance and fall, and, as the hurt wing was of
no use to her, she fell rather heavily. Unknown
to me this caused a large raw wound in the lower
part of the poor bird’s breast, but it did not bleed,
and was so covered by feathers that I did not for
some time discover it. It was so large a hurt that
I was in two minds whether or not to have her
destroyed, but she was spared, and the cause of her
accident being removed, she quite recovered, the
wound entirely healing.

Though her life was now spent nearly on the
ground (so low down she could not injure herself),
this dove lived many years, and died chiefly from
old age. I should never again allow a crippled
bird to mount too high. Doves cannot cling like
parrots, and so save themselves a fall. A little
perch, made of a broom handle, costing 2d., can
always be nailed across a corner of the aviary, and
so protect the bird’s feet from the danger of get-
ting dirty and chilled, as they would be if com-
pelled to always be on the floor.

At Woburn Park the Dulke of Bedford has a
flock of wild Crested doves, and about 40 specimens
were turned out loose at the Zoo a short time ago
as an experiment. It seems to have answered, for
later one of the keepers saw a group of 14 feeding,
and many were young birds.

This dove varies much in the colour of its
plumage. I have had birds deep slate grey, and
again others the most delicate shade of pale ash.
The latter are the prettier to my thinking, but the
metallic shades seem deeper and richer in the
darker birds.

The Crested was first bred at the Zoo in 1872,
and has been often bred in private aviaries. The
value keeps always about the same, namely, 20/-
for an adult pair of birds. It is a very hardy dove,
especially when one considers the great heat it
lives in in its native country. I have lnown birds
desirous to nest in January, with 14 degrees of
frost.

CHAPTER IX.

SUB-FAMILY GEOTRYGONINAE.
The Rufous Dove.
,, Solitary Ground Dove,
,, Violet (or White-fronted) Dove.
Wells’ Dove.

The Partridge (or Red Mountain) Dove.

, Ihe Bleeding Heart Pigeon.

» Wonga-Wonga Pigeon.

as iSieenile Bearded DORE (or Spanish IEzta8 2)
, Franciscan Dove.

, Malayan Ring Dove.

THE RUFOUS DOVE.
(Leptoptila Reichenbachi).

Habitat.—South Brazil and Uruguay.

Length.—io to 11 inches. Shape, long legged,
but stoutly built.

Colouring.—Adult male—Top of head and fore-
head whitish grey, back of head purplish. Cheeks,
throat, and upper breast ruddy vinous, changing
into drab white on the lower parts. Wings and
back: olive brown, with blackish quills to the
wings. Tail feathers brown, changing into black
with white tips. Legs red, beak slate. Iris straw-
coloured. A beautiful purple wash, like bloom,
goes over the shoulders. The hen is very similar
to the cocks. :

WILD LIFE.

Dr. Butler tells us that Burmeister regarded the
Rufous dove as one of the commonest kinds he met
in the forest region. He did not find it in the
open, but only in the narrow forest paths, where
it could easily escape danger. It builds its nest
rather high up amongst the thick trees.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The nesting of my Rufous doves has always
been one of the pleasantest incidents in my birds”
annals. It is six years ago since they nested, and
I still have my old cock, but from some wing
injury he is now unable to fly, though he keeps
very healthy and strong.

I bought a pair of doves in 1903 that were
supposed to be Rufous doves, but only the hen
bird was true to name, the other bird being a cocl
Solitary Ground dove; these two birds nested, but
it came to nothing.
year I bought a true pair of Rufous doves, and
these birds were both alike in plumage. They
began to nest in March, 1904, but the eggs got
broken and the nests were failures. I then put
my first bird in the same house, and the cock of
the true pair quickly turned to her, forsaking his
own mate, and three or four days later they were
sitting. The three birds agreed, but I thought it
better to remove the odd hen into another aviary,
and here she formed a great friendship with a
Violet dove that could not fly. It is a curious fact
worth mentioning that after it became friends with
the Violet this Rufous always kept to the ground,

In November of this same —

aa Sills Mia Tie

THE RUFOUS LOVE. 79

though it could fly quite well when they were first
put together.

Meanwhile the pair of Rufous were sitting well,
and on April 26th the first egg was hatched. The
aviary the Rufous were in was only about 16 feet
by 63 feet, and in it were also pairs of Solitary
Ground, Aurita, and Bronze-wing doves, and at
the same time all these four pairs were nesting,
and agrecing, except for a small fight just at first
between the cock Rufous and coclx Aurita.

The Rufous were ideal parents; they did not
both Jeave the nest till the young were nine days
old. The nest was very high up, but on May 8th I
saw the old birds feeding one young one; it was
olive-brown in colour, with white underparts and
grey forehead, a white streak running from the
beals over the eye. The next day I saw the second
young bird; the one I took to be the cock had a
much greyer forehead than the other.

On May 13th, when the young birds would be
about 17 days old, they both left the nest, reaching
the ground in safety. The Rufous family made
such a pretty picture when I first found the young
ones out, for all four were nestling together in the
straw (put to break the young ones’ first descent)
in a state of great pride and contentment. Next
day one young one went back to the nest to roost,
the other passed the night outside.

Two days after the little Rufous left the nest
two small Bronze-wings followed their example,
and the four baby birds used to sit together in the
straw the greatest of friends. Now the young
Rufous were out I could see them better. Their
length was about 7 inches, their beaks long and
dark horn-coloured, feet and legs darlx crimson, the
two outer feathers of the tail tipped with white.
On the wings were light spots or marks (like those
on a young Violet dove). These spots had nearly
disappeared by the time the birds were about five
weeks old; their foreheads were then becoming
lighter, and in one bird especially the ruddy breast
was getting very decided. The eyes of the young
birds were dark, with a very innocent lool in
them.

The poor Solitary Ground doves had lost both
their young ones when only a few days old. They
used to watch the young Rufous with hungry eyes,
and one day I saw the Solitary cock timidly preen-
ing their feathers. When he found the young
birds did not mind he grew bolder, and began feed-
ing them as well. It is no wonder that with this
extra care added to that of their parents the young
ones thrived.

The hen Rufous, ‘‘Millie,’? was one of the most
loving, motherly birds I have ever met. Her heart
seemed large enough to hold all comers, for she

preened the young Bronze-wings, -was devoted to
her husband, lavishing the most affectionate
caresses on him, and I need not say was a model
mother to her own young, but she carried her
affection further still, as you shall hear.

In another division of the same aviary was a
case of great contrast. A poor little Necklace
dove, just about the same age as the young
Rufous, was getting weaker and wealser, its
parents in their desire to nest again leaving it to
slowly die of starvation. Seeing the poor mite
had no chance where it was, I moved it into the
house where the Rufous were. I put the little
Necklace on the floor, but it was so wealx it could
hardly stand. J saw the eye of the Solitary Ground
cock light up with pleasure. Here at least was a
chance, but he dare not come to the rescue, though
burning to do so, till he had seen what ‘‘Millie”’
meant to do, for he stood rather in awe of her.
She acted very promptly, and at once took the
matter into her own hands—-or rather beal—for
she went straight up to the young Necklace and
began to feed it. It was very grateful, but
“Millie” was evidently puzzled to find it so wealx
after her robust young ones, and still more per-
plexed when it tried to nestle under her for
warmth. She covered it and was very gentle with
it, but she could not well stay brooding it on the
aviary floor all night, so I finally put the little
Necklace under some Barbary doves; they took
Kindly to it, but it had got too weak to recover and
died later.

After the Rufous had left the nest the Solitary
Ground doves took to it (the old Rufous having
chosen another site), but the young birds came still
now and then to their old home, and it was pretty
to see one on each side of the sitting cock Solitary
—that good-tempered bird seeming quite to enjoy
having them with him.

You will be sorry to hear poor ‘‘Millie’”’ died a
year or two ago. I found her one cold day looking
ill, so brought her into a cage in the heated passage
and the cock with her, fearing she would miss him.
She got worse, and I then put her close to the
stove in the “‘hospital box,’’ of which I have told
you already. This seemed to do her good, and
with great care she recovered so much that after
a time I put her back into a large let-out cage with
the cock; but soon after she had a severe relapse,
and died suddenly in my hands. She was a great
loss—one I can never hope to replace.

The Rufous lays two white eggs, and the
incubation lasts 16 or 17 days. This dove has been
kept at the Zoo (two or three of my own young
birds going there), and has been bred in several
private aviaries.

80 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

THE SOLITARY GROUND DOVE.
(Leptoptila chloroauchenia).

Habitat.—South Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay,
and the Argentine Republic.
Length.—About 11 inches. Shape, strongly

built, but shapely.

Colouring.—Adult male—General colour dark
greyish; wings, tail and baclx olive brown, the
long quill wing feathers being of a darker shade.
The outer tail feathers are tipped with white, but
the white is not noticeable unless looked at from
below, or unless the tail is spread. The breast,
throat, cheeks, and forehead are a lovely soft dull
purple tint, the sheen on the neck and baclx of the
head an exquisite blue green (like the green pearl
in a shell). The under-paris white, the iris bright
orange, the bill horn-coloured, the feet pink. The
hen is very like the cock, but rather smaller,
slighter in shape, and lighter in colour, The green
on the neck is not so vivid, the purple bloom on
the breast not so distinct.

WILD LIFE.

Dr. Sclater says of this dove: “‘It appears to be
nowhere very abundant, and addicted to rather a
solitary (presumably in pairs) sort of life, though
sometimes three or four birds may be seen
together. It spends a great deal of time on the
ground, where it wallks about under the trees
rather briskly, searching for seeds and berries.
The song is a single uninflected and rather melo-
dious note, which the bird repeats at short
intervals, especially in the evening during the
warm season. When the birds are abundant, the
wood, just before sunset, becomes vocal with their
curious far-sounding note, and as this evening
song is heard as long as the genial weather lasts,
it is probably not related to the sexual instinct.
The nest is a simple platform; the eggs two in
number and white, but more spherical in shape
than those of most other pigeons.”’

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

This is a rare dove, and seldom met with. I
was fortunate in getting mine (in ignorance of
what they really were) very cheaply.

I am very fond of the Solitary Ground dove. He
is so harmonious in his quiet beauty, and looks as
if he had been sitting in the moonlight and caught
a little of its tints, just the same as the Rufous dove
makes me think of the sunset and that its rosy
shade had just caught his, breast.

At first sight you might thinlx both these doves
plain and quiet-looking; wait till you have kept
them for a time, and if you have a true love for
the delicacy and harmony of colouring in doves
you will learn to appreciate them properly.

Once only since I bought my birds have I seen
the Solitary dove offered for sale; a small impor-
tation of seven birds arrived in England, but I do
not know what became of them. The price asked
was very reasonable.

My coclx Solitary was sent me in 1902 with a hen
Rufous dove, the two birds being said to be a pair;
but the birds, though both belonging to the genus
Leptoptila, were quite different. My true hen
came to me in a strange way. A dealer, knowing
my weakness for doves, offered me this single
unknown bird for 5/-. JI declined it, then fortu-

nately changed my mind and bought it, only to

find on its arrival it was a hen Solitary. For a
long time this hen could not fly; she was strong
and healthy, but her wings were very sore. She
had evidently knocked herself very badly, and
there was one long wound from end to end of each
shoulder.

In 1903 I put my three birds, namely, the two
Solitarys and a hen Rufous, together, two separate
nests were started at the same time, and fertile
eggs were laid, but I never reared any young ones.
However, I had learnt this much, that my birds
were a cock and two hens; for up to this time I
was entirely ignorant as to even what the Solitary
Ground doves were. Later I procured a cock
Rufous, and these two pairs of doves and a pair

each of Aurita and Bronze-wings were all put into’

the same aviary. At one time all four pairs were
nesting together, and all brought up young ones
that season.

The Solitary doves nested in April; two fine
young ones were hatched, but both died when a
few days old. There were at the time two young
Rufous doves just out, and the Solitary cock used
to help to feed these young birds and preen their
feathers.

The next attempt of the Solitary doves was in

the Rufous doves’ old nest (they having chosen

another site), and for some time the little Rufous
used to return to their old nursery, sitting one on
each side of the cock Solitary as he sat, all three
being as contented and pleased as possible. This
second nest was started about May 3oth, two fertile
eggs were laid, but when incubation had been
going on for about 13 days one egg was unfortu-
nately broken. The other egg hatched into a fine
young bird, and as might have been expected
received the greatest care and attention from its
parents. The young Solitary did not seem to care
to return to the nest, having once left it, as the
little Rufous had done. It was one of the
strongest and most active young ones I have ever
bred, and after a few weeks was almost as large
as either of its parents.

‘

*], 2.—AUSTRALIAN CRESTED PIGEON (ADULT AND YOUNG BIRD).
3.—CRESTED, SENEGAL, WHITE-WINGED, AND TURTLE DOvEs. 4, 5.—RuFous DOVE (cock).

J
6.—RED Mountain Dove. 7.—RED MOUNTAIN AND BLACK-BEARDED DOVE.

8.—CRESTED AND SENEGAL DOVES.
*9, 10.—PLUMED GROUND DOVEs. I1.—VIOLET DOVES.
Fhotogiaphs by Mr. H. Wiillfod.

82 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS

The young one’s colouring on leaving the nest
was very like that of the old birds, but it lacked the
purple tint on the breast, the sheen on the neclx,
and the orange eyes. Its head was greyish, with
a light dun forehead, and the bacls of the neclx darlk
grey. The breast dun grey, shading into pure
white on the under parts; the back darlx dun; the
wings dark brown, with two bands of copper
across each (in a later nestling these bands were
lacking, but the wings were spotted with copper
instead; perhaps this bird being much weaker
lacked enough feather to make a perfect line).
These lighter markings disappear when the birds
are a few weeks old. The tail of the young Soli-
tary was olive-dun, with the three outer feathers
on each side tipped with white, and the next two
pairs with lighter tips.

In July the Solitary doves nested again, but
failed to rear any young; later still another nest
was made and one young one hatched, but
when still in the nest it began to fail, and one day
was found dead. I think it was really hatched too
late; the days and nights had begun to be cold,
and the little thing did not thrive properly.

Another young bird hatched in roo8—some four
years later-—was most carefully tended by a hen
Bronze-wing, who brooded both it and her own
young one. The two young doves were great
friends, and the Solitary used to nestle up to the
Bronze-wing, but unfortunately its parents neg-
lected it and it died a few days later.

I have had the Solitary doves some eight years,
and every year they nest often and fertile eggs are
laid. Yet my first young one was my last; I have
never reared a young Solitary to maturity save in
this one instance; it seems very strange, for the
breeding of this one particular bird was so easy.
I have never known this pair of doves to be tire-
some with others of their tribe. I have them still,
and they are quite gentle to the other inmates of
the aviary. The young bird, who must now be
about six years old, I gave away to a friend.

This young one, unlike his parents, is a very
bad-tempered bird, though I believe a good deal of
this is due to his loneliness in having no mate.
My old birds are at the present time—June, 1910—
nesting again, they having had several eggs this
season, but so far no young ones. The hen is a
very nervous bird, the cock being far steadier;
some time ago he lost the sight of one eye, pro-
bably through a stab from another bird; you could
not tell, unless you held him in the hand, that the

eye was injured, so it has fortunately not spoilt his

beauty.

I consider these doves very hardy; I cannot find
any record of their being lkept at the Zoological
Gardens.

THE VIOLET (OR WHITE-FRONTED)
DOVE.
(Leptoptila jamaicensis).
Habitat.—Jamaica.
Length.—About rr inches.
well proportioned.

Colouring.—Adult male—The forehead, cheelss,
throat, breast, and under-parts snowy white. The
top of the head a soft ash-grey. The baclk and
wings olive brown, but the shoulder butts are very
pure white and the long wing quills blackish. The
tail is olive-brown above, and black and white
beneath. The back and sides of the neck the most
beautiful metallic colouring, changing in every
light, the chief colour being pinkish, shot with
golden green and again with bluish green, first
one colour showing and then the other. The
pinkish colour is more noticeable on the sides of
the neclx, and in some birds comes down so low as
to form a background for the white shoulder butts,
throwing up their whiteness in a most striking
way. The feet are crimson, the beak blackish
grey; a dark line runs from the bealx to the eye.
The iris is light straw-colour surrounded with a
ring of reddish skin. The female is smaller and
slighter than the male, her forehead more greyish,
the white parts not quite so pure.

Shape, rounded, but

WILD LIFE.

Gosse tells us that the Violet dove is chiefly
found in the upland districts; he notes that it is a
species that habitually lives on the ground, wallk-
ing about picking up various seeds. The physic
nut, orange pips, and sop-seeds, as well as large
fragments of the mango-seeds (chewed by the
hogs), form some of its favourite foods. The flesh
of the Violet dove is considered good to eat, being
‘white, juicy, and well-flavoured, without being
liable to bitterness.”

It has no regular roosting-place, often spending
the night on some low log or stone near the place
where it fed at nightfall. The nest is often built
in the log-wood, or if in the woods a fairly fall tree
is chosen. The nest is composed of a few loose
twigs and some leaves in the centre. The Violet
dove is often caught by the natives, being easily
taken in springes. The coo of this dove is five,
very melancholy notes, and the negroes, who
delight to translate the voices of birds into words,
ascribe to it the call of ‘‘Rain-come-wet-me-
through.”’

Gosse notes what a gentle bird the Violet dove
is, and tells how he once took one in his hand,
just caught in a springe, and it nestled comfortably
down, “permitting its pretty head and neck to be
stroked, without an effort to escape, without a
flutter of its wings.”

THE VIOLET (OR WHITE-FRONTED) DOVE. 83

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

Of all the many kinds of doves I have kept,
there is none I love so much as the Violet dove.
To see a fine male bird in perfect plumage is a
feast to one’s eyes; the snowy whiteness of the
breast, the glorious beauty of the neck, no words
can describe; it must be seen to be realised.

My first pair of Violet doves came to me in
October, 1901, they being then very rare in Eng-
Jand. A gentleman had privately imported a few,
and one of these was exhibited at the Crystal
Palace Show in that year. I paid 25/- for my pair
of birds; neither could fly, and one of them, a few
months later, broke its leg and died. My third
bird was a splendid specimen that I paid 22/6 for.
He had been hand-reared by the natives, and was
one of the finest birds I have ever seen, but to my
disappointment he would not take to my remain-
ing bird.

In the meantime, seeing my new arrival had
begun to pine away, I wrote to try and procure
his original mate, but I was too late; she had been
sold to a lady in Germany. In April, 1902, how-
ever, my friend received one odd bird, in a con-
signment of birds and reptiles that nearly all
perished on the way, through delay in transit.

I was warned before getting this bird that it
was in terrible condition though healthy, but half
a Violet was better than none at all, though I must
confess to feeling a great shock when, on diving
into the travelling hamper, I fetched up about the
most featherless bird I have ever come across; it
gave me quite a creepy feeling. But the bird was
healthy enough, and after a few months’ nursing
came round, and very fortunately proved a hen.

Both I and my beautiful cock ‘‘Narcissus’’ were
delighted, and at once, on seeing her, he began
bowing to the ground and cooing, puffing out his
neck: till it was a sheen of rainbow colours.

The birds soon began to nest, but though the |
eggs were fertile something always happened—the |
eggs were gnawed, broken, or thrown out. The
birds sat well, but were very fond of both sitting
together on the nest, a proceeding always fraught
with danger to the eggs. At last I had so many
disappointments that [I determined I would not
allow myself to hope any longer; it was always the
same story repeated, and “‘he that is down need
fear no fall.’’ I would let the Violets do what they |®
liked, but I would not expect anything from them. }

This went on until the second week in June,
1903, when two young birds were hatched. The

: ade Fic, 3.
doves had been perpetually laying eggs and sitting VIOLET OR WHITE-FRONTED DOveE.

since the middle of February in that year, and I
believe a good deal of their failure was due to a
little Combasou who gnawed the eggs. Unfortu-

.—YounG Cock.
.—YOUNG BIRDS JUST LEFT NEST.

.—Otp Cock, HEN, anD YounG Cock.
From The Avicultural Magazine.

iS

(os)

84 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

nately it was some time before the culprit was dis-
covered. Again, I believe the fault was partly the
doves’ own, for they would sit together in the nest,
and one or more young birds was smothered.

Mr. Castle-Sloane, who succeeded in breeding
the Violet dove very shortly after I did, gives the
period of incubation as 12 to 15 days. I do not
know how long my own birds sat, for the nest was
high up, and in such cases it is difficult to note it.
Through the bottom of the wicker nest-basket I
could see the young birds moving inside the nest,
but the parents guarded them very closely.

On June 24th the first young one left the nest,
being then about a fortnight old. The old birds
might have known what a rarity the little nestling
was, for they were in a state of the greatest excite-
ment. ‘‘Narcissus’”’ being left to guard the little
daughter in the nest, whilst ‘“‘Bessie,’’ the hen,
took the small son into her sole charge. She was
intensely proud of him, and, though really a good-
tempered bird, her anxiety made her rather
irritable to other birds in the aviary.

I was away from home at the actual time the
young Violet came out of the nest, and only re-
turned the day after the event, when I found the
young one very snug and happy on a bed of hay
in a large (lidless) box that my brother had
thoughtfully put for it in the aviary, to protect it
from the attacks of other birds and other dangers
that might have befallen it.

Three days after the first young bird left the
nest the second followed; for some hours it had
been getting restless, and came down late in the
afternoon.
than the other and whiter on the forehead. Their
colouring was as follows :—Eyes brown; forehead,
throat and breast whitish drab; back and wings
chocolate brown, with chestnut spots on the wings
(like the spots on a Necklace dove); under-parts
white, outer feathers of tail white, remainder of
tail grey brown; legs dirty flesh-coloured; length,
between six and seven inches.

The parents took the greatest care of the young
birds, and ‘‘Bessie’’ would sit in the sun with a
baby dove on each side of her. I never noticed
the young ones being fed; the eldest was seen to
be pecking seed when about a month old.

On July rith there was one of the most terrible
storms I have ever seen, with thunder, lightning,
and a torrent of very heavy rain. I hurried down
to the aviary only to find the baby cock thoroughly
enjoying himself and spreading out one tiny wing
to catch the rain. Both young birds got very wet,
but took no harm. The wing spots in the young
birds had almost disappeared by July~2ist, and
about ten days earlier the sheen had begun’to come

This young bird was rather smaller -

in the neck of the elder bird, and the violet side-
neck patch to show; by the end of July there was
not much difference between the old and young
birds.

Both the old and young Violet doves were very
fond of shelled and cut-up peanuts, and it was by
this inducement that I managed to take their
photograph. The bird in the foreground is ‘““Nar-
cissus,’” but it does not do him justice.

The Violet doves nested again, but both young
died in the nest; they looked as if they had been
crushed—possibly they were smothered by the old
birds sitting together. ‘‘Narcissus’’ came to a sad
end about 5 years later. He was fought by
another dove (I suspect a Bleeding Heart) and both
his beautiful eyes blinded. He only lived a few
days, for his spirit seemed quite broken, and he
would not eat.

The young hen also died in a tragic way, in
1904. I was setting the trap-cage to catch a
canary, and left the trap open and baited. As a
rule the birds soon learn to go in and out, but
apparently the young hen Violet would not feed.
She was found dead, and I was quite at a loss to ©
know from what cause. To my surprise and
distress a post-mortem revealed the fact that she
had died of hunger. I have never cared to use
the trap-cage since, but prefer to catch the birds —
by hand.

Since the days of ‘‘Narcissus”’ I have had several
importations of doves privately sent me from
Jamaica. I shall never forget what a lovely sight
about 14 or more Violet doves are when seen
together. I have never bred any since my first
two, though I once nearly reared a pair under
some, Barbary doves.

The Violet is a hardy dove; it was first kept at
the Zoo in 1867; the value varies very much, but
I should consider a good pair worth 25/- to 30/-
or more. I paid £2 for a pair of birds in very bad
feather some years ago.

WELLS’ DOVE.
(Leptoptila Wellsi).

Habitat.—Grenada, Antilles, the Island of
Tobago.
Length.—About 10 inches. Shape, well pro-
portioned.

Colouring.—Adult male—The upper parts glossy
olive, hind part of head and nape dark olive brown,
washed with purple; forehead pinky white, shading
into grey on the crown; chin and upper part of
throat pure white; lower throat, cheeks, and upper
breast dull vinous; lower breast and under parts
white; wings and tail olive brown, feet crimson,

-bill black, the naked skin round the eye blue. The

THE PARTRIDGE (OR RED MOUNTAIN) DOVE. 85

hen is very similar to the cock; her forehead is
less white and her colour rather duller. I have
no notes on the wild life of this dove.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

I have only once kept a pair of this rare little
dove. J bought them in March, 1904, for the very
moderate sum of 20/-. I found them very wild;
they refused to let me come near them, and in
dashing about the hen grazed her head badly. I
did not find them very interesting; they were very
like the White-winged dove, but not so pretty,
being much the same colour and having the same
slkxy-blue skin round the eyes, though of course the
white band across the wings (which is such an
attractive point in the White-winged dove) was
absent.

My birds did not nest whilst I had them, and
eventually one died, and I was left with the odd
bird.

In 1897 the late Mr. O. E. Cresswell received
an importation of 6 Wells’ doves from Tobago.
He was much struclx with the colour of the blue
skin round the eye, and describes them as follows :
“Their tints are soft and pretty—bacl olive-
brown, the back of the neck having a purple sheen,
under parts white shading into pink. I have not
found them interesting; after nine months they
are still shy, hardly ever utter a sound, and take
no notice of each other. I think I made a mistake
in not putting them out last summer.’’ Dr.
Butler had a hen Wells’ dove that laid between
three and four eggs every month and sat by her-
self the full time on all eggs she did not break.
She died in 1906, having been laying and sitting on
clear eggs continuously since the beginning of the
previous year.

A specimen of Wells’ dove was presented to the
Zoo by Mr. S. Wells in 1886. Mr. J. C. Pool
received about five of these doves in 1898 from
Tobago. He considered them one of the most
timid doves he had ever met, and somewhat
irritable, running to drive any small birds away
that might perch on a branch near.

THE PARTRIDGE (OR RED MOUNTAIN)
DOVE.
(Geotry gon montana).

Habitat.—Tropical America in general (includ-
ing West Indies), north to Cuba (accidentally at
Key West) and Eastern Mexico (Mirador), and
south to Paraguay, Bolivia, and Peru.

Length.—About 9 inches. Shape, rounded, with
rather short tail.

Colouring.—The adult male has the upper parts
bright chestnut, more or less flushed with a purple

iridescence, chiefly on neck and back. Breast
pale purplish-brown, softened to white on throat
and chin; a band of deep chestnut runs forward
from the ear to the throat; under parts and tail
coverts buff white (Gosse). .The hen is quite
different from the cock. The top of the head and
back is chocolate brown, with a slightly greenish
tinge, the tail is brown; forehead and cheeks chest-
nut. The top and sides of the upper part of the
breast is also brown, but warmer and _ rather
lighter in shade than the back; the chin, lower
breast and sides buff. The beak basal half
crimson, the remainder horn-colour; the legs are
flesh-colour, the iris very pale yellow-brown, the
skin round it being the same colour as the beak,
namely, rich crimson. . The hen is slightly smaller
than the cock.

WILD LIFE.

Gosse writes of the Red Mountain dove that it
prefers a well-wooded country where the woods
are filled with bushes as well as trees. He says:
“It is essentially a ground pigeon, walking in
couples or singly, seeking for seeds or gravel on
the earth.’ He noted that it fed on the fallen
berries of the pimento, the physic nut, and once
a pair of these doves were seen eating the large
seed of a mango that had been crushed. Small
slugs have also been found in its gizzard, and it
is very fond of the ripe berries of the sweet-wood.

On two occasions Mr. Gosse made a close
inspection of nests of this dove. He says: “‘As
we crept cautiously towards the spot the male bird
flew from it. I was surprised at its rudeness; it
was nothing but half-a-dozen decayed leaves laid
one on another, and on two or three dry twigs,
but from the sitting of the birds it had acquired
a slight hollowness, about as much as that of a
skimmer. It was placed on the top (slightly sunk
among the leaves) of a small bush, not more than
3 feet high, whose glossy foliage and small white
blossoms reminded me of a myrtle. There were
two young, recently hatched; callow and peculiarly
misshapen, they bore little resemblance to birds.”’

In a second nest were two eggs of ‘“‘a very pale
buff colour; sometimes, however, they are con-
siderably darker.” The poor little cock was
sitting on this nest when he was shot dead. To
shoot this gentle little dove at all would seem cruel
sport, but to shoot a “sitting’’ bird seems to me
no sport at all, but wanton barbarity. In the days
when Gosse wrote, some 63 years ago, the bird
life in Jamaica was different from to-day. He
tells us of a boy who “‘caught 20 or more”? of the
Partridge dove, “in springes during two or three
days in February.”’ Mr. Sutcliffe, who has just
returned from Jamaica this year, says of the Part-

\

-pair of birds.

86 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

ridge dove that it is ‘tin danger of extinction, the
hens are especially difficult to obtain.”

I personally have found the cocks harder to get
than the females. I think the latter seem stronger
than the male birds.

Jardine tells us that the Partridge dove lives con-
stantly on the ground, and roosts on the lowest
branch of a tree; he further adds, its nest is buiit
on the ground, and that the young ones can sooner
follow their parents than those ‘‘which nidificate
at a distance from the ground.’’ ‘‘It inhabits
elevated and rocky districts, where it runs with
great swiftness.”’ It must be remembered, how-
ever, that Jardine wrote so long ago as 1835, and
old records are not always found to agree with
modern observations.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

It is some years ago since I first kept this gentle
little dove. If I remember rightly, the first two
birds I had were never able to fly. I bought them
as a pair, being ignorant of the difference of
colouring of the sexes, but both were cock birds.

The latest pair I had should have done well, for
they had been used to aviary life in Jamaica before
they came to me, but I was so unfortunate as to
lose the cockbird; the hen I still have, and she
seems strong and healthy, and keeps in very good
plumage.

She is out now for the summer, but must be
brought in for the winter months, as this dove
cannot stand too much cold.

The Red Mountain dove is so gentle and timid
a bird that it will allow any dove to torment it,
and so it is rather difficult to know with what other
doves to place it, if you are not fortunate enough
to be able to give a separate compartment to each
In my case some Senegal doves
were in fault, and when J caught the Partridge
doves to remove them I was shocked to find how
thin the cock was; he began to eat at once on
being put into a fresh place, and I fear he must
have suffered without my knowing it. For a time
this bird looked better, but eventually died. His
hen is the bird I still have, and she seems quite
happy and contented, not caring to come much
into the open, but passing most of her time in the
inner shelter.

This hen has a mania for nests, and used often
to sit in the turf-lined box where the Partridge
Bronze-wings were sitting, and these birds being
most amiable themselves never resented her
presence. My hen is now interested in the nest
pans I have put up for my Bleeding Hearts, and
I am sure if she had a mate she would nest.

A correspondent in Yorkshire had two hens a
little time ago, and another gentleman in Stafford-

shire has two hens and a cock. He tells me that
one of the hens is so tame that she will feed from
his hands, although he has only had the birds a
little time.

Mr. Sutcliffe was so fortunate as to secure four
pairs of Partridge doves during his recent tour in
Jamaica, and as this dove is getting so rare in its
native land it would be well if it could be saved
from extinction by being bred in English aviaries,
but as far as I know this has only twice been
accomplished—once at the Zoo in 1863 (it was first
Ikept there three years previously), and once by Sir
William Ingram in 1905.

All the specimens I have kept were imported
privately, and the last time I wrote for some they
could not be had. Last May three birds (a cock
and two hens) were offered for sale in England
for about 60/-, but it is a dove that is only seldom
in the market.

Sir William Ingram has given us some interest—
ing notes on this pretty little dove. He found it
the most friendly and amiable of all his doves, and
even after the hen-bird had to have a toe amputated
she still remained as tame as before the operation.

The first nest built by the Partridge doves,
during their second season in the aviary, was dis-
turbed by other doves. The nest was made of
sticks and straw placed on a beam; the second nest
was built in an old hamper nailed against the wall.
Here, though much disturbed, the Partridge doves
reared one young bird; the second egg, though
fertile, did not hatch; it was a fawnish colour. The
young bird on leaving the nest ran about like a
partridge and very seldom used its wings; in colour
it was a very dark brown on the upper parts, the
feathers being edged with rufous; the legs were
light red.

The parent birds kept much to the ground,
seldom flying from the floor of the aviary, although
they built their first nest at the highest elevation
they could find. This may seem strange, but I
have known such strictly ground birds as quails
lay a clutch of eggs in a pigeon nest basket fixed
some seven feet or more from the ground.

BLEEDING HEART PIGEON.
(Phlogoenas luzonica).

Habitat.—Luzon, Philippines.

Length.—About 10 inches. Shape, long-legged
and stoutly built.

Colouring.—Adult male—Forehead white shad-
ing into delicate grey; back of crown to eyes darls
purple; back of neck, upper back and shoulders
(coming right down the sides of the neck to the
wings) washed with very rich opal tints. In one
cock I have the lights change from green to blue;

iz

BLEEDING HEART PIGEON. 87

in another less green and much more purple. This
metallic green also shows on the lower back, which
is blackish brown, as are also the long wing
feathers and the tail. The wings are clear light
grey crossed by two distinct bars of blackish
brown; the shoulder also shows some greenish
reflections. The cheeks, throat and breast are
white, being very pure on the first-named parts.
In the centre of the upper breast is a blood-red
irregular patch, looking as if the bird were
mortally wounded. The feet are crimson, the bealx
slate-black, the iris purple. The hen bird is
smaller than the coclk and more slightly built, the
neck especially being more slender. The. metallic
green is less vivid in the hen, and sometimes the
under-parts are buffish.

YounG BLEEDING Heart DOVEs.
From The Aviculiural Magazine.

WILD LIFE.

The Bleeding Heart is often found for sale in
the Manila market, being a very favourite bird of
the Spaniards. This pigeon is commonly known
as Punalada, meaning ‘‘stabbed with a dagger.”’
Very little seems known of its wild life. There
is a legend that there is a variety pure white except
for the ‘‘heart,’’ but I think this must be a wood-
land myth of the natives, for I have never heard of
a live specimen, though I have seen it illustrated
in an old book on pigeons.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.
I have kept many Bleeding Heart pigeons, for
_I must confess to a great weakness for them, and
a desire (wisely ungratified) to buy everyone I see
offered for sale. At the present time I have nine

specimens—four true pairs and an odd hen. Three
of the cocks I have had for some time. One of
these was bought nine years ago last March for
the very small sum of 10/-, and this price included
a white Java sparrow. I think the dove’s owner
must have got tired of keeping an odd bird, for I
can never understand why he sold him for so
little.

In the same year, in September, I bought a
supposed hen from a gentleman in Scotland, and
the joy of the first bird was great—he puffed him-
self out and cooed and sat on the same perch dress-
ing the new arrival’s feathers; at night they were
on the nest-basket, and the cock-bird sat in the nest
and quivered his wings; and yet, would you believe
it, all the time these birds were two cocks, and I
never found it ont until some time
later.

I advertised for a hen-bird, but
got no response—nothing at all save
a letter from a lady, a complete
stranger to me, asking if I had a
spare cock to part with, as she had
a hen that had laid a great number
of eggs and she had spent a smail
fortune in trying to find a mate for
her. This letter put a bold plan
into my head. My two cocks were
such beauties that I did not want
to part with them, but at the same
time I had a great wish to breed
this dove; so I wrote to the lady
and said, will you let me have your
bird for the summer, and if I can
rear any young ones we will divide
them? After a few days an answer
came that “Joey” was to come
UO MAES 4 66 o The letter went on to
say how very much the lady valued
her pet, for it used to let her
catch it without being frightened,
and it would often come and settle on her head,
and coo and flutter its wings when she spoke to it.

The affection the lady had for the bird was
evidently so genuine that I began to regret what
I had done. Suppose the bird died whilst with
me! I began to imagine all sorts of dreadful fates
for it, and felt quite uneasy. But in bird-keeping
disasters come soon enough without anticipating
them. ‘‘Joey’’ arrived in March, and never had a
day’s illness till she died between one and two
years afterwards. She had many nests, and three
young ones lived to be adult.

The first two were from one nest, and turned out
later to be both cocks. They were two of the finest
birds I have ever seen. I wonder if it is true that
aviary-bred birds (where the parents have always
had more than enough food to feed the young with)

88 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

are finer than wild caught ones that have not been
reared on so generous a diet? It would be
interesting to know.

These two cocks may be living still; I heard of
them long after they left me. The third young
bird, though it lived to be adult, was never strong,
and died on the way to a new home in Ireland.
Another very fine pair of young ones died in the
nest. ‘“‘Joey’? was a most zealous parent; she
would leave the nest to drive off a Picui dove that
she considered was coming too close, and then
quietly return to her treasured eggs. She finally
died one winter, and was evidently a great age and
possibly past breeding; but I think her life might

have been prolonged if I had brought her into the -

heat during the cold weather. Bleeding Hearts
cannot stand cold; perhaps it is their continual
wandering on the ground that chills their feet, for
the toes seem apt to suffer.

“Joey”? was one of the plainest Bleeding Hearts
I have ever seen; the skin on her head was all
drawn, and most of it bare; this injury was done
before I had her by a rat, her previous mate being
murdered outright. My Scotch cock, ‘‘Jim,” had
lost his hen too, before he came to me, from the
same cause, and J am sure in bird language they
told each other this mutual trouble. They were a
most devoted pair, and after “‘Joey’s’’ death ‘‘Jim”’
refused to look at either of the pretty new hens
I bought for him. Later on one of these hens
scraped the top of her head, giving her a faint
resemblance to the departed ‘“‘Joey’”’; and after
this, though it sounds strange, ‘‘Jim’’ took to her.

”

The Bleeding Heart is a dove you cannot force
in its likes and dislikes; it must be allowed to
choose for itself. JI find the cocks have one very
bad habit—some of them chase and worry the hens
.so during the nesting season that in one case a
beautiful hen I had died; but perhaps I ought to
say one cock was the chief wrongdoer, and he has
steadied down as he has grown older.

The Bleeding Heart is not always good-tempered
towards other doves. It is fond of mealworms,
and delights in a little ‘‘soft food,’” ground nut,
and ground biscuit. J really think the ‘‘soft food’’
is almost a necessity—besides its grain diet—to
keep this dove in perfect feather.

When frightened the Bleeding Heart has a
curious habit of running into a corner, where it
stands for long with its back to you, the feathers
held very close to the body, the head lowered.
When the cock coos he throws himself right back,
almost resting on the tail, and puffs out the breast
and ‘‘heart’’ to quite an imposing size. I do not
find that these doves care to nest if more than one

pair of them is kept in the same aviary, but on the
other hand, when put together for the winter in
heat, they seem to delight in being in a little band,
and to see them thus is one of the prettiest sights
in my aviaries.

The young birds are rich chocolate brown in
colour, with three distinct buff bars across the
wings, and just a tiny red line down the breast to
show you where the heart is coming later on. The
wings are as if tucked up, and the bealx very large
and long. Two days after coming out of the nest
my first young one could fly, though he had such
short wings. It was a pretty sight to see the
young birds standing. on tip-toe beside “‘Joey,”’
and kissing her face over and over again. They —
were also great friends with the little baby Senegal
doves. ‘‘Joey’’ was much more with her young
ones than the cock was.

At the present time you can get Bleeding Heart
pigeons for about 45/- a pair, but they would not
be aviary specimens. These are worth about 30/-
each bird. It is a dove that is very difficult for
anyone (who has not kept a good many) to sex; so
many birds are often sold sexed wrongly, or not
in true pairs.

I have heard an old legend about the Bleeding
Hearts, but do not’ know if it is true as to its
source. It is said that when Christianity was first
preached in the Philippines the people were found
to be heathens, but at the same time having a
legend that long ago the Bleeding Heart pigeons
had white breasts, but, on one settling on the
Cross, and being shot by a Roman soldier, ever
afterwards the bird had the red patch or “Heart
of Remembrance.’’ It is supposed Christianity
had been preached to these islanders years before
by a shipwrecked Friar, and that all his teaching
was forgotten save this legend. I have been told
that the extraordinary influence of the Friars over
the native population in Luzon is proverbial, and
was probably the main factor in determining their
existence for three centuries under Spanish Govern-
ment, the Philippines being discovered in the r6th
century.

In an allied species of the Bleeding Heart, that
lives in the Malay States, a similar legend is
assigned by the natives; in this bird the red patch
is not so vivid as in Lugonica, where the effect is
most realistic.

This pigeon was kept at the Zoo so far back as
1861, and has bred there several times. I have
never seen two Bleeding Hearts quite alilke. In one
bird the ‘‘heart’”’ will be a little larger, in another
perhaps smaller; a third bird has longer legs, and
in a fourth the grey on each side of the breast

I, 2, *3.—YouNG BRONZE-WING PIGEONS. 4.—YOUNG BRUSH BRONZE-WING PIGEON.
5-—YOunG Rurous DovEs. 6.—YouNG SENEGAL DovVEs.
7, 8.—YouNG DaMara TuRTLE DOVES.
* Photograph by Mr. H. Willford,

go MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

nearly meets at the throat. To a casual observer
they may seem all alike, but to their owner there
is just a little difference in the same way that they
say no two sheep in a flock are exactly the same.

WONGA-WONGA PIGEON.
(Leucosarcia picata).
Habitat.—Kastern Australia, from Rockingham
Bay, through the interior to Victoria.

Length.—About 15 inches.
heavy, with long strong legs.

Shape, broad and

Colouring.—The back, wings and tail leaden
grey, forehead and chin white, cheeks pale grey,
breast leaden grey, divided by a broad semi-
circular white belt; centre of chest white, flanks
and abdomen white, covered with blacls-doited
spots; bill purplish towards the tip, shading into
pink nearer the head. Eyes very dark brown, the
eye-lashes crimson, feet and legs pink-red.

The sexes are very similar, but the hen is rather
smaller than the ma'e bird. The young are very
like the adult birds, but browner on the wing, and
without the dark feathers of the sides.

WILD LIFE.

It is fairly common in the bushes of New South
Wales, and frequents both dry and damp ground.
The Wonga-Wonga is strictly a ground feeder; it
only takes to the trees when disturbed. Dr.
Ramsey says its deep and melancholy coo may
often be heard in the woods.

Gould tells us that ‘‘to look for it on the plains
or in any of the hilly open parts would be useless.”’
“The Wonga-Wonga spends most of its time on
the ground, where it feeds upon the seeds and
stones of the fallen fruits of the towering trees
under whose shade it dwells, seldom exposing itself
to the rays of the sun or seeking the open parts
of the forest. While traversing these arborean
solitudes one is frequently startled by the sudden
rising of the Wonga-Wonga, the noise of whose
wings is quite equal to, and not very different
from, that made by a pheasant. Its flight is not
of long duration, this power being merely employed
to remove it to a sufficient distance to avoid detec-
tion by again descending to the ground or mount-
ing to the branch of a neighbouring tree.’’ This
pigeon’s coo (‘‘hoo” repeated four times) can be
heard half-a-mile off.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.

The Wonga-Wonga is also known as the White-
fleshed Pigeon of Australia. Its name of
“Picata”’ is in allusion to its black patches, Picata
being Latin for ‘“‘besmeared with pitch.” The
flesh of this pigeon is white and is considered a
great delicacy for the table in its native land.
Gould tells us that it is “‘one of the most delicious
birds for eating that can be met with anywhere.”

Dr. Greene considered the Wonga-Wonga a dull
bird in an aviary unless it had plenty of room. If
confined in too small a space it would sit
motionless for hours. The egg is white and rather
round, and hatches in 18 or 19 days. The hen
generally builds the nest almost alone, the cocl:
helping very little. As a rule but one egg is laid
at a time, though instances are recorded from

Germany where two young have been reared, and
that five or six times between May and the end of

September.

Dr. Greene gave his birds grain of all lxinds,
especially maize and dari; he also mentions that
the Wonga-Wonga preferred soaked maize to any-
thing else ; besides the grain he gave soalxed bread,
not only to the pigeons, but to all his birds, the
bread being soaked for a few minutes in cold water
and then lightly squeezed and crumbled.

The Wonga-Wonga is very fond of bathing,
and besides drinks a good deal, so it should always
be provided with a good supply of water.

I have only kept two specimens of this very
handsome pigeon. I do not know if they were a
pair, but I never bred any young ones. One of
the birds had a crippled wing when it was given
to me, and so was forced to spend most of its time
on the ground. The Wonga-Wonga is a quiet
harmless bird, and in spite of its sober colouring
very attractive. When my birds used to walk up
and down the aviary floor they looked very im-
posing and dignified, and the curious neck marl-
ings used to rather remind me of a Mayor or
Alderman in his chain of office, and the pigeons’
stateliness added to the effect. You felt as if the
smaller doves would hardly dare to tale a liberty
with them.

Lr. Butler, though he greatly admired the
Wonga-Wonga, was very disappointed in them
when he came to keep some of his own. The
cock’s coo was an annoyance to all who lived near,
and the nesting was not a success, for the hen-
bird laid time after time on some bare branches,
and the eggs continually dropped through and were

PLATE 12.

I.—BLEEDING HEART PIGEON AND Rurous PIGEON. 2.—BLEEDING Heart PIGEON.
3.—BLEEDING HEART PIGEON AND BLACK-BEARDED Doves.
4.—BLACK-BEARDED DOvEs. *5.—PLUMED GROUND DOVES.

6 —Francisian DOVE. 7.—WONGA-WONGA PIGEON.

* Photograph by Mr. H. Willford.

92 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

spoiled or broken. In vain Dr Butler rearranged
the spot, making the branches thicker; the pigeons
undid all his work with the same result as before
—more broken eggs; finally the hen deserted the
nest in November, and began to mope and died.

The Wonga-Wonga was bred at the Zoo so long
ago as in 1859, and many times also since then.
It is seldom that this pigeon is offered for sale,
and I cannot say what would be their value at the
present time.

THE BLACK-BEARDED DOVE (OR
SPANISH PARTRIDGE).

(Starnaenas cyanocephala).

Habitat.—Cuba (and Florida Keys).

Length.—Over 12 inches. Shape, strong and
plump-looking.

Colouring.—Adult male—Crown of head rich
cobalt blue, bordered by a black band passing
through the eye; this band again is bordered by
a second one of pure white reaching from the bealx
* to the back of the neck. The sides of the chin
cobalt blue, under the chin a large darlx blue (or
black) bib, rounded at the two bottom corners and
edged with a jagged band of white bordered very
slightly with black. The feathers at the sides of
the head are very curious, appearing as if grow-
ing in ridges, starting backwards from the white
face band. The breast and neck maroon; the
back, wings, and tail olive-brown; the éye full and
dark; the bill is sealing-wax red ai the base, slate-
grey at the tip. The feet very darlk crimson. The
hen is very like the cock, but smaller and more
slender in shape, lacking his upright carriage.

WILD LIFE.

Gosse in his “Birds of Jamaica’’ says of this
dove: “The Spanish partridge is not considered
as indigenous to Jamaica, though it is frequently
imported thither from Cuba. It may yet, however,
be found in the precipitous woods of the north
side. Albin, Brisson, Buffon, and Temmincl
attribute it positively to our island.”

At the time when Jardine wrote his Naturalists”
Library in 1835 (some 12 years before Gosse) he
gives a coloured plate of the Black-bearded dove,
and the following note in his description: ‘This
bird is a native of the southern islands of America,
and is plentiful in Cuba and Jamaica, in which
latter island it has obtained from its gallinaceous
habits the name of partridge. It lives entirely

upon the ground, where it runs with great rapidity,
like the above-named bird, the neclx being drawn
in, and the back forming a curve, by the pendant
manner in which it carries its tail. It nidificates
upon the ground, and lays several eggs, and the
young when hatched soon learn to follow the
parent. It has a deep murmuring note, which is
not often heard, the bird being of a retired and
solitary disposition.”

Jardine also remarks that ‘‘the tarsi, which are
pretty long, are covered with small hexagonal
scales.’’ It must be remembered, however, that
these two books were written years ago. At the
present time I doubt if there is a single wild
Black-bearded dove left in Jamaica; but even if the
facts do not bear on the presént day, they are
interesting to read as a record of the past.

LIFE IN CAPTIVITY.
The Black-bearded dove is one of the hand-
somest of his kind, and he seems to know it too,
for there is something dignified and imposing in
the very walk of a cock-bird in fine plumage. It
is a very rare bird, being seldom imported to Eng-
land, though it has been kept at the Zoo several —
times since 1864, and bred there six years later.

In the year 1905 a friend in Jamaica sent me
three specimens. In his letter to me on the subject —
he says ‘“‘the Black-beardeds laid two eggs on the
bare boards twice, and being heavy birds broke ©
three out of the four. The fourth egg hatched
under common pigeons, and very early found its
feet, falling from the pigeon coop and hiding for
a few days. I had given it up for a bad job when
I was delighted to see it running after its foster
parents and clamouring for food.”

Cuba is only 90 miles from Jamaica, but owing
to the quarantine regulations, little can be done in
the way of obtaining birds, though I was once ;
offered a hundred of these doves for a ridiculously
small sum per bird if I would take the quantity,
the trapper refusing to supply a smaller number.
I had. to refuse, having no room to house them
till they found new homes; but all the same it
seemed a pity not to accept a chance of introducing
this lovely bird into England again.

My friend in Jamaica had six of these doves
altogether in’ his aviary, but one escaped, ants
lxilled another, and a third disappeared; the re-
maining three came to me, I found them at first
very lazy birds, nothing seemed to disturb their
stolidness, not even the cooing and bobbing up and

%

THE BLACK-BEARDED DOVE (OR SPANISH PARTRIDGE). ig 93

down of an excitable cock Bar-shouldered dove,
who, with tail raised like a spread fan, used to
perform before the Black-beardeds. Beyond look-
ing a little astonished they would be quite un-
moved. They kept much to the aviary floor, which
is tiled, and whether from this cause or not I do
not know, but one of the birds got thickened legs
(almost like the scaled leg in a fowl). Mr. New-
man (to whom I sent the dead bird, thinking he
might like the skin) noticed this, and kindly sug-
gested that nossibly it was caused through the bird
not having grass to wallx on, the tiles being tov

changing from grey to drab, and a Picui dove from
grey to almost black. It would be interesting to
Ixnow the true cause.

For some years I kept these doves without their
making any attempt to nest. I tried them in
different places, but without success. In 1907 I
put them in a low duck-house with a wire run
filled with long grass, partially screened over to
make a quiet corner, and I also put a sod of turf
in the shut-off shelter in the inner part. But my
hopes came to nothing, and in removing the birds

to their winter quarters I let one escape. It was

Photo by Mr. W. E. Teschemaker.

hard. I followed his advice and moved the two
remaining birds—whose legs also looked rather
thick—into another aviary with a grass flight.
Here they wonderfully improved, and further, one
bird that had moulted out a lot of white feathers
(instead of maroon, as they should have been)
gradually lost all this, and became its proper colour
again.

At the present time my birds have no trace of
white feathers in the dark plumage; does it mean
that it is a sign of weakness to produce wrongly
coloured plumage? In two other cases I have
noticed a change of colour—a Diamond dove

Youne Dwarr Grounp Dove.

From ‘‘ Bird Notes.”

off like a rocket, with a very strong and swift
flight. I had little hope of seeing the bird again,
as it flew towards the town, unless some honest
person caught it and answered the advertisement
that I at once saw was put out, offering a reward
for its return. The remaining bird was shut off in
the wire-fronted shelter, and the door of the flight
left open, and a pot of food put inside to tempt the
truant back if it should return. To my joy next
morning the lost bird came back, and it was so
hungry and pleased to see its mate again that it
was easily caught with some grain placed in a
trap-cage. The bird looked puffy for several days,

94 MY FOREIGN DOVES AND PIGEONS.

as if the night out of doors had chilled it, but other-
wise it was all right.

Next year, in May, 1908, the Black-beardeds
started to nest in an old wooden parrot’s nest-box,
with a hollowed saucer-shaped bottom, fixed a foot
or two from the ground. The hen laid one very
round egg, which was broken in the nest. Fear-
ing the same thing would happen again if the eggs
were laid on the hard wood, I lined the hollow of
the nest-box with a wicker nest-basket and some
sand and heather, malxing it all very firm. The
birds seemed to lilxe it, for they kept adding more
heather, and kept sitting for a few minutes, but
nothing came of it, although two more broken
.eggs were found, supposed to be theirs.

The birds’ former owner said of them: ‘‘They
Jaid with me on the bottom of a box hung about
4 feet from the ground, and employed no nesting
material. More than one egg was ‘toe-bored,’ and
the one young bird I had died quite early; it
appeared to need its parents some time after it was
fully feathered.’? I am afraid these doves are toc
heavy-footed to hope for much success in nesting;
the eggs seem bound to be broken if laid on a
hard surface, especially as my hen appears to suffer
from a wealxness in one foot.

At the present time my two birds are in a sunny
aviary; they roost side by side always in the same
place on a very high perch, but seem to spend
nearly all the day on a wide wooden shelf fixed
low down across the front of the aviary. This
shelf ends in a wooden coop where their food is
placed, and a nest-basket sunk in a turf right at
the back of the inside, to induce them to breed;
but I am afraid it is too late to hope for anything
this year. The cock did a great deal of cooing
earlier on, but not so much just lately.

The Black-bearded cock is a great favourite
of mine, he is so dignified and self-contained ; just
now he is in perfect plumage, like one feather.
The hen has never been so fine a bird; her colour-
ing is much the same as the cock’s, but her shape
is not nearly so good, nor her carriage so stately.
She is rather nervous, and inclined to soon get
frightened.

The Zoo had some of these lovely pigeons a little
time ago, but I do not know if they have them still
or if any other specimens are at present in Eng-
land, though possibly there may be one here and
there. I do not know this dove’s value, but it is
very rare.

CONCLUSION.

esides these 40 species of doves and pigeons
I have kept, I have also a tiny dove in my collec-
tion kindly given me by a gentleman who had got
a pair of these birds in Arequipar in Peru. I was
told the name of the dove was the Francesian dove
(Palonita francisea). One of the pair died, the
other later found a home with me some five years
ago, and is still in fine health and perfect plumage.
From some cause, however (some time ago now),
it injured one wing and cannot fly, so it is forced
to spend its life on the ground. In shape this bird
is very like a Passerine, but slightly larger. Its
colour is a soft mouse-brown, with a bar right
across the wing high up, and several spots lower
down of rich metallic purple, very dark. The beals
is bright orange, lilxe a blackbird’s, for more than
half its length, the remaining part, the tip, being
black. This little bird is very active, and can run
very fast.

I have also kept three other doves that came to
me as Malayan Ring doves. All are dead now,
but they were very handsome birds, something lilke
the Deceptive dove, but richer and deeper in colour.
I took these birds to be two hens and a coclx, but
they never nested with me. They had rather a
tragic history before they landed in England, for
the boat they were on in their own land was cross-
ing a lake when a sudden squall came on, and I
believe the boat overturned, and out of a very large
collection of birds on board only about 60 were
saved.

One of my birds was unfortunately atiacked by
a little Conure, and though not really hurt, I
believe the shock affected the poor thing’s brain,
for it always seemed dazed afterwards. One of
the hens was very fond of mealworms; the cocl
did not care for them.

So ends the story of my doves and pigeons.
There are many other kinds I should lilke to have
kept, and have had the chance of keeping, but
bird-keeping is an expensive hobby where a number
are kept, and so it must have its limits. Perhaps
if one could buy every bird one wished half the
charm and pleasure would be gone, and I am
certain that in my own case my aviaries would soon
become far too crowded; so whether it is really
“sour grapes’’ or not, there are times when a stern
checlx must be laid on one’s inclinations, and it is

CONCLUSION.

as well to impress on yourself you have “‘no more
room’? for tempting fresh birds.

And here I wonder if I make a mistale in never
parting with my old favourites; their young ones
may, and have, to go, or the aviaries would soon
be too full; but doves are long-lived—witness my
old cock Aurita; I have had him (an adult bird
when he came) 12 years, and he looks like living
another 12. I have bred Auritas again and again.
Should I not be learning more if I parted with the
old birds and filled their places with new kinds, then
when they had served their turn with others still?

There is not the least doubt one would gain more
knowledge with this plan; but I lean to the side of

sentiment. I look on my birds and all my other
pets as my friends, and true friends are never

willingly parted.

Some few years ago hardly anyone kept doves;
it was a lonely hobby then, but a change has
gradually come about, and many people keep them
now, and are learning to properly appreciate them.
I keep other birds also—tiny Waxbills and Finches,
Partridges, Parrots, and Parralxeets, but if I omit
my two favourite parrots, “‘Cric”’ and ‘“‘Max,”’ the
softest corner in my heart for my birds is kept for
my doves. If you keep birds try them too, and you
may soon think as I do, and love them as well
and truly.

FInts.

“ tue Featurerep Wortp,’ 9g, ARUNDEL SrreET, STRAND, Lonpon, W.C. Y.P C —31/3/r11.

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