he was roused from his torpor by the repeated cry of a Tolòho. Now, we know that this cuckoo chooses damp places, and hops about from bush to bush on the river banks; it was then 'ery natural that the loud, mellow notes of the Tolòho should reach the ears of a man who was lying only a slight depth below ground. Starting out of his lethargy, it was not long before he comprehended that he was not buried very deeply, since the notes of the bird could be recognised; and so, without waiting for the return of the reptile, which was waiting patiently at the entrance of the cave, he used his hands and nails to such effect that in a little time he saw daylight. He was saved. In recognition of the service, all unconscious and involuntary as it was, which the bird had rendered to their ancestor, his children and grandchildren vowed that neither they nor their descendants would ever kill a Tolòho; and so," concludes M. Grandidier, "that is why the Paris Museum has one specimen less of the Centropus madagascariensis."
There is a Bétsimìsàraka saying that if you throw a Tolòho over the house three times, you will be able to roast it. If you do not do this, they say it all runs to grease, and you only get the bare bones. The Malagasy have an amusing fable about this bird and the Tàkatra, or Brown Stork, in which the former is described as invited to a feast at the house of the latter; but he disgracefully repays the hospitality of the stork by turning him out of house and home and taking possession of it himself From this fable (which probably embodies some facts as to this bird), it would appear that this cuckoo, like the Kankafòtra, has something of the habits of its European cousin in making use of other birds' nests. Perhaps this is also referred to in one of its provincial names of Abìlimbòrona, i.e., "Base, or Slavish bird".
The second sub-order of the Picariæ, that of the Wide-gaping birds, includes twelve families, half of which are represented in Madagascar.
First to be noticed here of these is the beautiful little
