Plumage of the Young of Eclectus Polychlorus.—Dr. A. B. Meyer in the P. Z. S. for 1877, p. 801, says in an article on Eclectus polychlorus: “Formerly I discussed the question whether the young bird in both sexes is plain green or not; but I now believe that it is red in both sexes, i.e. bears the dress which the female keeps during its whole life.” This conclusion would seem to be incorrect, since among a series of these birds in the possession of Prof. H. A. Ward, there is one bird so young as not to be fully fledged, but which is nevertheless of the same bright green color as the adult males. This substantiates the statement of the Rev. George Brown that the young birds have the same colored plumage as the adults.—F. A. Lucas, Rochester, N. Y.
[This is a large Parrot found in the Malacca and Papuan Islands. The occurrence of “young red-and-blue birds” has already been recorded (see Ibis for 1878).—J. Amory Jeffries.]
An Owl’s Egg Laid in Confinement.—The history of my Acadian Owl, given in a late number of this Bulletin,[[86]] has an interesting sequel. On February 4, 1882, the bird (then but nine months old) astonished its friends—and perhaps itself as well—by laying an egg in the bottom of its cage. This, when first brought to me, was of normal size and shape, but soft and leathery to the touch, like the egg of a turtle. One side was fractured; and soon afterward the shell around the edges of the hole began to curl inward until, in a short time, the whole egg became shrivelled and distorted. Finally, in the course of a day or two, the shell crumbled and scaled off in small fragments leaving only the half-dried yelk and albumen.
Of course more eggs were looked for, and in anticipation, the floor of the cage was lined with saw-dust and a hollow stump even supplied to serve as a nesting-place. But despite these attentions the bird obstinately refused to gratify our hopes. For several days after the removal of her egg she was restless and irritable, continually flying from perch to perch, and fiercely attacking any one who ventured to approach her. Indeed, it was two or three weeks before she recovered her wonted gentleness.
I cannot now recall an instance of the breeding of Owls in confinement, but the present occurrence would apparently indicate that it might be accomplished with Saw-whets, which, as captives, seem to be more animated and cheerful than most of the members of their sedate family.—William Brewster, Cambridge, Mass.
Buteo brachyurus—A Correction.—An inaccuracy, comparatively so unimportant that I have hitherto neglected to call attention to it, will be found in the paper “On a Tropical American Hawk to be added to the North American Fauna” (this Bulletin, Vol. VI, p. 207). The Hawk in question was shot Feb. 22., 1881—not Feb. 1, as stated in the article referred to. I was at Palatka at the time, and saw the bird in the flesh the day it was shot. It was secured on the outskirts of the town, early in the morning, by a young taxidermist, Mr. Wm. Dickinson, since deceased. We could not determine the species, and he would not part with the specimen, a very fine one, but “set it up” for himself. A short time afterwards he presented it to Mr. G. A. Boardman.—J. Dwight, Jr., New York City.
The Turkey Buzzard in New Hampshire.—A specimen of Cathartes aura was shot this spring near Hampton Falls, N. H., by Mr. Frank Percell. The bird was killed April 6th or 7th. and received by Mr. C. I. Goodale on the 8th. When I examined it on the 10th it was still quite fresh.—Charles B. Cory, Boston. Mass.
Rapacious Birds in Confinement.—In the winter of 1874 I spent several months with a friend who had a number of rapacious birds in confinement. There were a couple of Barred Owls, a Great Horned Owl, and a Rough-legged Hawk, living together upon excellent terms in one apartment; in another, half a dozen Mottled Owls; and in another a superb Bald Eagle. Most of these birds became quite tame after a short period of captivity, tolerating our presence in their quarters, taking food from our hands, and even submitting to caresses. One little Scops developed especial docility. My friend, who was a taxidermist, used to place it upon a perch at his side and copy strigine attitudes from nature. The accommodating bird would sit content for half an hour at a time, and never objected to any sort of gentle handling. One of its brethren. however, was vicious and untameable. He nipped our fingers whenever occasion offered, snapped and spat if even approached, and finally sealed his own doom by decapitating his gentle associate.
We did not succeed in cultivating a spirit of great tractability in the Eagle. Aside from the amusement he occasionally afforded in tackling living quarry, generally some superfluous cat, he was a rather uninteresting captive. One morning we omitted his breakfast, but in the course of the forenoon introduced a kitten into his apartment. He eyed her sharply for a few moments, then persistently ignored her and in the evening she was removed unscathed. Upon this we instituted upon the royal bird a brief course of starvation, and then submitted the unfortunate kitten again. This time her reception was very different. At sight of her he manifested great excitement, and in a very few minutes left his perch with a jump and a flop, and seized the poor beast in his talons. He struck her very nicely, pinning fore paws and head together with one foot, the hind paws together with the other, thus preventing the slightest resistance. My remorse at this stage of the proceedings was somewhat alleviated by the fact that the kitten did not even quiver, having apparently been instantly killed by the force of the blow. However, the Eagle at once put an end to what little life may have been left by breaking her spine with his beak. He thereupon tore a hole in her abdomen, and cast the intestines daintily aside. The contents of the stomach were examined and, with the exception of a single tid-bit which appeared to be a piece of bread, rejected. The rest of the body was then rapidly devoured. On the following morning a full-grown tom-cat was turned loose in the cage. The Eagle attacked him several times but was valiantly repelled, and up to the end of the third day, when he made his escape, Thomas remained master of the situation. Dissatisfied with this experiment, my friend subsequently introduced the cat in a half-stunned condition, and after getting well scratched the Eagle succeeded in overcoming him.—Nathan Clifford Brown, Portland, Maine.
Note on Mareca Americana.—I shot at Wayland, Mass., October 1, 1881, a young male Widgeon (Mareca americana). It was flying in company with a flock of twelve others, apparently of the same species.—A. Thorndike, Brookline, Mass.