all you will ever see of it. But you may hear it. In the morning and evening, and even at dead of night, it gives vent to some feeling in one of the strangest sounds ever uttered by bird. Jerdon describes it as "a loud, purring call." To me it suggests a nail drawn across the teeth of a sonorous comb of endless length. If it proceeds from the lungs of the bird, then the mystery is still unsolved how the quantity of air which must be required to keep up such a sustained effort can be compressed into so small a body. One of the eccentricities of the Bustard Quail is that the female makes all the noise. The male, as far as I know, is silent. He, is smaller than she, and though I cannot say whether he is literally henpecked, there can be little doubt that he is 'sair hauden doun.' He has to stay at home and mind the babies while she goes gadding about and fighting with her female neighbours. This is not scandal, but a fact. She differs from him in having a good deal of black on the head, throat and breast. The general colour of both is reddish brown, marked- with a game pattern of fine, black, cross lines, with buff edges to the feathers. I am speaking of the species which Jerdon calls the Blackbreasted Bustard Quail (Turnix taigoor). There are two others, but this is the one that makes the curious noise described above, and the only one, I think, that is likely to be found in Bombay. I once came upon its nest in June, not far from Bombay. It was a most artistic structure for a Quail to build, completely domed over with fine grass, with only a little hole at one side for the owner to go in and out by. I did not catch the bird, so it may have been one of the other species, but there is not much difference.
