I Do Not Think These Birds Pair Like The Partridge, But I Believe The Cock Is Polygamous, Like The Pheasant, As I Generally Found That Several Hens Were In His Neighbourhood.

It is a beautiful game bird, the male possessing a striking plumage of deep black and rich brown, with a dark ring round the neck.

It is quite a different variety to the mottle-breasted species that I have met with in Mauritius, Ceylon, and the double-spur francolin that I have shot in Africa. It is considerably larger than the common partridge, but not quite so heavy as the red-legged birds of Cyprus, although when flying it appears superior. The flesh is white and exceedingly delicate, and it is to be regretted that so valuable a game bird is not introduced into England. I generally found the francolin in the low scrub, although I have often shot it either in the cultivated fields or in the wild prickly low plants upon the open ground which have been misnamed heather. The habits of this bird have nothing in common with those of the red-legged partridge, as it is never found upon the bare rocky hill-sides, which are the general resort of the latter annoying species, and although the scrub bush may contain both, there is a marked difference in their character. The red-leg is a determined runner, and therefore a bad game bird for the shooter, as it will run ahead when first disturbed and rise far beyond shot range, instead of squatting like the grey partridge and permitting a sporting shot. The francolin is never found upon the bare hill-sides, neither is it a runner in the open, although it will occasionally trouble the dogs in the bush by refusing to rise until they have followed it for some distance, precisely as pheasants will run in covert until halted by the "stops" or by a net. I am not sure of the power of resistance to cold possessed by the francolins, as they are seldom met with upon the higher mountains in Cyprus, but are generally found upon the inferior altitudes and low grounds: still the hazel-huhn of Austria is a species of francolin which resists the intense cold of a central-European winter.

Only one march remained to the extreme eastern limit of Cyprus, Cape St. Andrea, distant fourteen miles. The country was exactly similar to that which we had recently passed through, and although alike, it could hardly be called monotonous, as the eye was never fatigued. The few inhabitants were poor to the last degree; the dwellings were mere hovels. We passed deep holes in the ground, the sides of which were baked by fire, so as to resemble earthen jars about ten feet deep and seven in diameter, with a small aperture; these were subterranean granaries, the sure sign of insecurity before the British occupation. The flat-topped hovels had the usual roofs of clay and chopped straw, and projected two or three feet as eaves beyond the walls, which were of stone and mud, exhibiting the crudest examples of masonry. The projecting eaves were curiously arranged by hooks of cypress, like single-fluked anchors laid horizontally, which retained beams, upon which the mud and straw were laid; the heavy weight of the earthen roof upon the long shanks of these anchors prevented the eaves from overbalancing. Enormous heaps of manure and filth were deposited opposite the entrance of each dwelling, and in the Christian villages the most absurd pigs ran in and out of the hovels, or slept by the front door, as though they were the actual proprietors. These creatures were all heads and legs, and closely resembled the black and white representative of the race well known to every child in the Noah's Ark.

It was rather disheartening to approach the extremity of the island, and upon entering a long narrow valley our guide assured us that although no apparent exit existed, we should ascend a precipitous path and immediately see the point of Cape St. Andrea. The valley narrowed to a point without any visible path. A few low hills covered with bush were backed by cliff-like heights of about 300 feet also clothed by evergreens. Upon our right, just below the steep ascent, were sand-dunes and the sea. We now observed the narrow streak of white upon the hillside, amidst the green which marked the path. We had left the brown sandstone, and once again were upon the white calcareous rock. Our animals could barely ascend the steep incline, and several times we halted them to rest; at length we reached the summit, the flat rocky table above the valley. The view was indeed lovely; we looked down upon the white monastery of Cape St. Andrea, two miles distant, and upon the thin eastern point of Cyprus about the same distance beyond, stretching like a finger from a hand into the blue sea: the elevation from the high point upon which we stood gradually inclining downwards to the end of all things. A short distance from the cape were two or three small rocky islands and reefs protruding from the sea, as though the force of the original upheaval had originated from the west, and had expended itself at the extreme east, where the heights above the sea-level had gradually diminished until the continuation became disjointed, and the island terminated in a sharp point, broken into dislocated vertebrae which formed islets and reefs, the last hardly appearing above the waves. This ended Cyprus on the east. The lofty coast of Asia Minor was distinctly visible.

CHAPTER VI.

CAPE ST. ANDREA.

The promontory of Cape St. Andrea at the broadest portion is about five miles, and from this base to the extreme end is nearly the same distance. The whole surface is rocky, but the interstices contain a rich soil, and at one time it was covered with valuable timber. There is no portion of the island that presents a more deplorable picture of wholesale destruction of forests, as every tree has been ruthlessly cut down, and the present surface is a dense mass of shrubs and young cypress, which if spared for fifteen years will again restore this extremity of Cyprus to prosperity.

Enter page number Go  Previous Next
Page 40 of 140
Words from 40059 to 41111 of 143016