reddish buffy under-parts. It makes a curious nest, a regular ball of coarse grass, with a hole in one side. The first I ever found was in a Bombay garden and was not made of grass, but of the curly paper shavings in which eau-de-cologne bottles are packed. How the bird came by this material is a question on which the imagination may exercise itself pleasantly.
Besides these there are several Thrushes which, though they do not like to reside in Bombay, belong to this part of the country and are too pretty and too interesting to be omitted altogether. Among them is the White-winged Ground Thrush (Geocichla cyanotis) most common and least seen of all the beautiful birds that haunt the cool shades of Matheran. As you walk along any quiet path you may hear it whisking the fallen leaves about with its beak, and if you bear yourself gently, it will let you come very near. Its back and wings are slaty, or leaden, blue, but the rest of its costume is of a fine, golden fawn colour. The sides of its face are white, with two dark cheek stripes, by which you may know it among a hundred. Though generally so silent, it can sing sweetly and would make a charming cage-bird.
There is another rainbow-tinted creature to which good Jerdon has done injustice by his clumsy and pointless name—the Yellow-breasted Ground Thrush (Pitta bengalensis). Its native name, Nowrung, or "Nine colours," is better. The crown of its head is golden olive and black, its mantle green, lower back pale blue, chin and throat white, breast yellowish fawn, tip of tail bottle green, under tail coverts crimson, legs and feet pink. This bird seldom leaves the ground, even making its nest at the root of a bush,
