d beneath its wing,
seem to be sleeping in that manner. A wide-awake sentinel is always
posted in a commanding position to give warning should an enemy
approach. If the cautionary signal is given, all rise in the air
together, and flying low, trail their long, stilt-like legs stretched
far behind them. The legs of the wading species of birds are not
graceful appendages. Most of the feathered tribe have a decorous way
of gathering their limbs up close to their bodies when they launch
upon the wing. This would, however, be obviously impossible in the
long-legged tribe to which we have referred. The varieties of the
crane family are almost numberless, from the largest, which stands
five feet in height, down to others not taller than a duck. The
water-pheasant, white as the paper upon which we are writing, is a
little beauty about the size of a dove, and may often be seen standing
upon the broad lotus leaves pecking at the seeds. Do they, too, like
human lotus-eaters, seek oblivion and exaltation through the subtle
narcotic thus imbibed?

Now and again we come upon a bevy of pea-fowls quietly feeding among
the ferns, plump and beautiful creatures, mottled with white spots
upon a glossy, slate-colored ground, and nearly as large as our
average domestic fowls. In some parts of Ceylon, they are found in
very large numbers, and as the natives do not disturb them, they are
comparatively tame. We had our suspicions that an occasional
Singhalese stretched his conscience sufficiently to kill and devour a
pea-hen. Though according to his religious faith the Buddhist may not
himself sacrifice life, he may eat what has been killed by one of
another creed. "From the meanest insect up to man, thou shalt not
kill," says the first commandment of Buddha. It must be admitted that
the injunction is very closely heeded. The fact is, the natives do not
crave meat in this hot climate, and it is easy to see that with an
abundance of excellent fruit and vegetables, supplemented by an
occasional meal of fresh or salted fish, the diet of the common people
is wholesome and sufficient. As repeatedly shown, religious instinct
protects animal life among the Buddhists, but why an exception is made
in regard to fish, it is impossible to explain. We have met rigid
Buddhists, however, who would not eat fish,--conscientious men, to
whom the life in the sea was equally sacred with that found upon the
land.

As regards the meat brought from the forest and