They perched by hundreds and perhaps thousands on the same trees, and the trees on which they perched showed their heads far above those of the other trees. How beautifully their gray plumage and their red tails contrasted with the green leaves from the midst of which they appeared! Some of the old ones were almost white. When old their feathers seem to be covered with a white powder, and if you pass your hand over their plumage this powder comes off. I have killed wild ones perfectly splendid, much larger and handsomer than any I have seen tame. [Sidenote: _HOW PARROTS BUILD THEIR NESTS._] I wondered why these parrots had chosen this Island as their bedroom. Why did they come from such distances every day when there were so many tall trees in the forest on the main-land? I found that it was because they were safer than on the main-land; there were no _genetta_ (a kind of wild cat) to pounce upon them and disturb, or rather devour, them at night. [Illustration: PARROT ISLAND.] Days passed, and every morning and every evening the parrots went away and the parrots came back, and between three and four o’clock in the morning began their _charming_ noise; but I became quite accustomed to it and did not mind it at all after a while. I noticed also that generally the same number that started together in the morning came back together. These parrots must certainly be endowed with a very great instinct to know the way to the Island, as they come from great distances, and from every direction. Not only do they come to the Island of Nengue Ngozo to sleep, but in the month of February and the beginning of March many remain and have their nests on the Island. They all would have had their nests, I am sure, if there had been hollows of trees enough for them. These gray parrots do not build a regular nest, but choose a tree where there is a deep hollow to lay their eggs in. The nests are discovered by hearing their young calling all day long for their parents to feed them. I never saw more than two young ones in one nest, or hollow of a tree, and very funny they looked when covered with down before their feathers had grown. What awful cries they utter as they see the human hand coming through the darkness ready to catch hold of them. And you had better look out for your fingers, for they bite terribly hard, I assure you, as I know by experience, and that in despite of their being very young. There were days when I hid myself near a tree close by the place where they came to sleep, but the parrots seemed to know it, and would fly round and round it, and then go away. It is but very seldom that I ever was able to approach parrots when they were perched on a tree standing by itself: they would fly away before I could come within gunshot distance. They are exceedingly shy. When they approach their nests they always come in the most silent manner, not uttering a single cry. [Sidenote: _PARROT SOUP._]