goose (a constant marauder of native gardens) springs up, and circles
round to find out what the disturbance can be, and then settles down
again with a splash. Hundreds of Linongolos (_Anastomus lamelligerus_)
rise on the wing from the clumps of reeds, or low trees (the
_Eschinomena_, from which pith hats are made), on which they build in
colonies, and are speedily high in mid-air. Charming little red and
yellow weavers (_Ploceidae_) remind one of butterflies, as they fly in
and out of the tall grass, or hang to the mouths of their pendent nests,
chattering briskly to their mates within. These weavers seem to have
"cock nests," built with only a roof, and a perch beneath, with a doorway
on each side. The natives say they are made to protect the bird from the
rain. Though her husband is very attentive, we have seen the hen bird
tearing her mate's nest to pieces, but why we cannot tell. Kites and
vultures are busy overhead, beating the ground for their repast of
carrion; and the solemn-looking, stately-stepping Marabout, with a taste
for dead fish, or men, stalks slowly along the almost stagnant channels.
Groups of men and boys are searching diligently in various places for
lotus and other roots. Some are standing in canoes, on the weed-covered
ponds, spearing fish, while others are punting over the small
intersecting streams, to examine their sunken fish-baskets.

Towards evening, hundreds of pretty little hawks (_Erythropus
vespertinus_) are seen flying in a southerly direction, and feeding on
dragon-flies and locusts. They come, apparently, from resting on the
palm-trees during the heat of the day. Flocks of scissor-bills
(_Rhyncops_) are then also on the wing, and in search of food, ploughing
the water with their lower mandibles, which are nearly half an inch
longer than the upper ones.

At the north-eastern end of the marsh, and about three miles from the