He " Lamed " Him.

Otago Witness, Issue 2356, 20 April 1899, Page 62

He " Lamed " Him.

An aviary of rare birds which Lady Brooma kept some years ago in Trinidad forms tho subject of an article in the current Cornhill Magazine. One morning (writes Lady Broome) the coachman brought me in a beautiful little bird of brilliant plumage which I had never teen before. It had been caught in' the saddle room, and was certainly a lovely creature, though unusually wild and terrified. Howover, I was so accustomed to new arrivals soon making themselves perfectly at home and becoming quite tame, that I turned tho splendid stranger into the finches' compartment with no misgivings, and went away, leaving thorn to make friends, as I hoped. About half an hour later I passed the tell French window, carefully netted in, which opened on the corridor, and through which I could always watch my little pets unperceived. My attention was attracted by two or three curious little feathered lumps on the gravelled floor. On closer examination these proved lo be the heads of somo of my especial favourites, which the new arrival (a member of the Shrike family, as I discovered too late) had hastily twisted off. Besides these murders he had fotfnd time to go round the nests and turn out 'all the eggs and young birds. My dismay and horror may bo imagined, but I could not stop, foi luncheon and guests were waiting. I hastily begged a tall Irish orderly who was on duty in the hall to catch the new comer and let him go. Now this man loved my birds quite as much as I did, and seemed to epend all his leisure time in foraging for them. They owed him many tit-bits in the shape of wasps' larvre or the nursery of an ante' nest nicely stocked, or some delicacy of that sort. There was only time for a hurried order, received in grim silence, but when I was once more free and able to inquire how matters had beon settled, all I could get out of O'Callagan was : " I've lamed him to wring little birda* necks."

" Did you catch him easily?" I inquired. " Quite easily, my lady, and I lamed him." This in a voice of trembling rage. " What have you done to him?" No answer at first, only a murmur. "But I want to lmow what has happened to that bird," I persisted. "" Well, my lady, I've lamed him " — a pause ; ' I've wrunged his neck." So this rough and ready justice had been meted out to the wrong-doer very speedily. Perhaps of all my birds the one I called tho Sewing Crow was* the most amusing. It was a glossy black bird about the size of a thrush, with pale yellow tail and wing feathers, and curious light blue eyes with very blue rims. It was brought from Venezuela, and its local Spanish name meane " The Itica Bird," but it never specially affected rice as food, preferring fruit and meal worms. I had several of these crows, but one was particularly tame, .and rambled about the houso seeking for sewing material?. I found itonco or twice inpide a large workbag full of crewels, where it had gone in search of gay threads, with which it used to decorate the wire walls of an empty cage kept in tho verandah outside my own sitting-room. Tho extraordinary patience and ingenuity of that bird in passing the wool through the meshes of the wire can hardly be described. I suppose it was a reminiscence of nest-building, because it always worked harder in the spring time. It had a great friend in a little "moriche," black and yellow also, but of a more slender build, and with a very sweot whistle. The " moriche," too, was perfectly tame, and flew all about the house, and it was very comic to watch its efforts at learning embroidery from its friend. It arrived at last at some sort of cage decoration, but quite different from that of tho crow, who evidently disapproved of it, and often ruthlessly pulled the work of a laborious morning on the "moriche's" part to pieces. Now the "moriche" knew better than touch the crow's work, though ho often appeared to carefully examine it.

One day the crow nuist have persuaded tho "moriche" to help him to roll and drag a reel of coarse white cotton from the corridor of the work-room across the floor of my sitting-room into the verandah. I saw them doing this more than once, and had unintentionally interfered with the crow's plan by picking up tho reel and returning it to the maid's work-basket. However, one afternoon the crow got rid of me entirely, and on my return from a long expedition I found both the crow and the " moriche " just going to roost in the empty cage, which was really only kept there for them to play in. I then perceived what the reel of cotton, which was again lying on the verandah floor, had been wanted for. The crow had sown a Bfejaw armchair with an open-patterned seat securely to the cage by nine very long ptrands, and was sleepily contemplating the work with great satisfaction. It wa» quite eaty to Bee how it had been managed once a start was made with the cotton ; but it must have entailed a great deal of flying in and out with the end of the cotton, for it had been broken off. Of course I left the chair in its place, and it remained untouched for some months ; but I always had to use it myself, lest anyone (should move it too roughly, and so break the connecting strands which had co&t my little bird bo much labour and trouble.