BIRDS ON THE HIGH VELD.

Otago Witness, Issue 4028, 26 May 1931, Page 63

BIRDS ON THE HIGH VELD.

When we decided to settle on the African high veld, and ild a house on a farm bare of trees or of any protection, we expected to miss the birds, always good companions on a lonely farm. It must be something to do with our attractive garden fence, and all that it I encloses, because from the very first they have never deserted us. Before the house was finished the South African ' swallows had taken possession of the : stoep, were building on every crossbeam, i and the workmen had to dislodge them, I even from the lintels of the doors. We ! have three kinds of swallows, the i migratory English ones, which visit us for our summer, arriving in October and November; the South African, a bright ; metallic blue fellow, with an orange red i head, a speckled throat, and a soft I trilling song; and the graceful pintails, 1 more rare than the other two. ! Besides the swallows, flocks of canaries : descend on us, to feed on the grass- > seeds. These are not of such a vivid ' yellow as the cage bird, and the hen is a very demure little grey person, seemingly contented (like few other fe- : males) to bask in the reflected gaiety ! of her husband’s fine clothes. i The bishop birds hold conferences on t the fence, too. They assemble regularly ' for the morning and evening sessions, J with interruptions only for luncheon and l tea, and “quick ones” in the garden! | Among them there must be prelates of ' every degree and denomination. Some . ■ are bird archbishops, scarlet from crown to gaiters. Others, the bishops, wear : a black coat, with scarlet vest and ruff. ■ The yellow finks, birds like small • golden parakeets, also congregate round ■ the garden. Sitting on the wire, they

will preen themselves for hours, flaunting their vivid beauty. But one cannot admire their way of living. Vigilantly they watch every seed sown, each plant coming into fruit, when with their strong curved beaks they strip the rows of peas, mealies, and beans. Our most charming friend is the honey bird. Making no gaudy display’ as he flits among the flowers, visiting tiie scarlet runners, the hanging pink cactus blooms, darting among the multicoloured sweet peas, in spite of his quiet, busy ways, his striking blue green colouring stands out from every lovely background. There are many others. A pair of sprues-starlings brought up two families on one of the veranda pillars. The first brood was rather a failure, only one surviving out of four hatched chicks. Quite undeterred, however, they tried again, though this time with fewer joyful nesting songs, and met with more success. The South African robin corner occasionally to see what he can find. He has an orange breast, instead of red, and is not such a cheery, cheeky’ individual as his English relation. In years to come, when our trees are grown, we will make a sanctuary here, where all these birds, and many others, can mate and nest and rear their young, protected from human and feline marauders.

Some of them will destroy and thieve, but many work hard for us, harrying the armies of the insect world, and keeping down pests. Besides, much can be forgiven them for their beauty.—E. M. Adderley, in the Spectator.