Eagles also are common, some of great size.

One day last winter an eagle pounced on a chicken that was unconcernedly pecking about in front of a cottage in Taourirt Amokran. For an instant the bird remained half stunned by its rapid descent, and a Kabyle sitting in the doorway, threw his burnous and caught it alive. They are not birds to be trifled with, and I was told how, on another occasion, a Kabyle following a badly wounded eagle, was attacked by the bird, which struck at his head, clawed out one of his eyes, and would have killed him, had not a friend come to his assistance. Neither of us had provided ourselves with guns, and our encampment would not have been well chosen for sport. The natives kill a few wild boars in the ravines, hares, partridges and quail; it was the closed season, but they bagged partridges nevertheless, going out with a call-bird to attract others. Quails are left almost unmolested on account of their nests being in the midst of the ripening corn. We continually heard their liquid note of contentment, for contented they no doubt were, living unharassed in the midst of such abundance.

A sportsman brought some birds of fine plumage, which I skinned; but having only salt to cure them with, the ants got at them, and few remained of any value.

The hoopoo is common; we often heard its thrice-repeated flutelike note, or saw it with crest proudly erect, perched on the topmost branch of a tree. A young one was brought us which we thought of rearing, an odd little bird, always looking as if going to topple over; it had no tail, and the crest and long bill looked out of all proportion; it perhaps resented being laughed at, for it had a furious temper, which we knew not how to conciliate; and when the little creature was discovered one morning to be missing, it was not followed by many regrets. The golden oriole is not uncommon. Other birds more familiar were not wanting; frequently we heard the home-reminding notes of the cuckoo; and swallows flitted about all day. At dinner-time they would perch on a figtree within six feet of us, gently chatter, skim through the air, and return to chatter again.

Of butterflies I noticed none that are not native to England; but I found a curious insect, simulating exactly a decaying leaf of evergreen oak; under the microscope it has the appearance of being covered with crystallised spikes.

When it became hot, ants were busy in every direction; one sort, with a big red head half as large again as its black body, was remarkable for long legs, it ran more quickly that any other ant I ever saw; there were lots of these always in a hurry. I noticed one enter a nest of small black ants, and afterwards reappear without commotion ensuing; probably a hot-headed freak of curiosity. If I were to bolt into the houses of the Kabyles in that manner, thought I, I should meet with a very different reception.

Several times I saw swarms of wild bees. I have seen the boys, who were quick in detecting the approaching hum, spring to their feet and rush off in wild excitement, I knew not at first why. They tried to change the course of the swarm by throwing dust into the air; it was a pretty sight—eager boys with draperies tossed and flying about, and an afternoon sun lighting up the handfuls of dust and the swarming bees.

Thus in the season of unclouded spring,

To war they follow their undaunted king,

Crowd through their gates, and in the fields of light