9 3 



HARDWICKE'S SCIENCE-GOSSIP. 



(Platy cerium), as well as the "Bird's-nest fern" 

 (Asplenium) grow in greater or less luxuriance. One 

 shrub, the Pithccolobium grandiflorum, is a magnifi- 

 cent sight when decorated with its scarlet blossoms. 



In the summer-time these luxuriant glades are the 

 haunts of richly-coloured butterflies and beetles ; 

 whilst the Region bird, Rifle bird, green pigeons, 

 various parakeets, &c, enhance the scene by their 

 brilliant plumage. At night, myriads of fire-flies issue 

 forth like shooting-stars. Of all the odours in these 

 primeval woods that of musk seems to prevail most 

 powerfully, except when the " Wattles " are in bloom. 



I shall never forget spending a few days in one of 

 these forests. It was about spring time, and all 

 nature was rapidly recovering from its short winter 

 rest. The forest I visited (in company with a 

 hospitable squatter with whom I was staying) was in 

 Western Victoria — a forest which has only just been 

 explored from end to end. We had to drive to the 

 outskirts from where I was staying, for a distance of 

 about twenty miles, in an American " buggy." Our 

 route to the forest lay along greasy, unused, one- 

 chain roads, along which waggons and other vehicles 

 were in the habit of winding their devious ways. In 

 many places it was a euphemistic form of speech to 

 call them roads, for they differed from the rest of the 

 country altogether, except the rough fencing on 

 either side. Gum-trees, dead and living, and also 

 abundance of tree stumps, of all sizes and in all 

 positions, crowded the " road," along which, I hope, 

 few people are obliged to travel by night. Proces- 

 sions of dead trees — studies in black and white — 

 seemed to pass us by as we drove along. They are 

 the scarred remnants of bush fires, and they alone 

 are sufficient to mark the road. Flocks of brilliant 

 green parakeets rise up from beneath our horse's 

 feet ; lovely lowry, rosella, and Blue Mountain 

 parrots flash across us in the sunshine like living 

 gems ; crowds of cockatoo parrots (corclla) soar above 

 our heads, numbers of white, sulphur-crested cock- 

 atoos screech as if a screeching match were on and 

 every bird was confident of winning. They fly from 

 dead gum-tree to dead gum-tree, and cluster on the 

 branches, as if the latter had broken into blossom. 

 All along the road the Australian " robins" precede 

 us flitting from fence-top to fence-top, and turning 

 their glowing, incandescent red breasts towards us 

 as if asking whether our humbler English robin red- 

 breasts could equal them. The crow-shrikes, or 

 magpies (surely the most delightful as well as the 

 most useful of Australian birds), were everywhere, 

 darting and frolicking in the sun like so many 

 kittens, and piping their lovely flute-like notes like 

 the half forgotten refrain of some old song. The 

 pretty, but more silent and smaller, magpie-larks 

 were almost equally numerous. Occasionally we 

 got a glimpse of the male of the beautiful blue wren, 

 but he was too proud to show much of himself. The 

 yellow wrens were not half so shy or so scanty, 



whilst the flycatchers were abroad and busy in great 

 force. The black crows had possession of the semi- 

 cleared country, except where a few jays disputed 

 with them. Overhead a pair of kites or an occasional 

 hawk soared and screamed. But the parrots and 

 parakeets and cockatoos were by far the most nume- 

 rous and varied of all the feathered tribes, as it is 

 right and proper they should be in an Australian 

 forest. In one place a number of those stately 

 grallatorial birds known as "native companions" 

 were going through all the movements of a quadrille 

 party, bowing to each other, retiring, advancing, and 

 retreating, as if to some unheard music. They are 

 handsome birds, for their crimson heads contrast 

 well with the generally French grey plumage. The 

 ordinary blue cranes were not uncommon, plovers or 

 curlews were numerous, and we saw a few of 

 those much-sought-after birds the bustard, better 

 known to sportsmen, perhaps, as the " turkey." 



The forest grew denser and swampier as we pene- 

 trated it. There was a thick and almost impenetrable 

 undergrowth of young gum-trees, heath, myrtaceous 

 plants, prickly acacia, climbers, and bracken, and 

 one felt what a capital haunt and breeding-ground 

 such a place must be for snakes. One had to reverse 

 the old proverb about not being able to see wood 

 for trees, for here we could hardly see trees for 

 wood. 



Snakes are gradually getting scarcer in Australia. 

 A war of extermination is being waged against them, 

 which is getting hotter and fiercer every day, for 

 there are more people joining in the attack. The 

 more a country gets cleared for pasturage, the less 

 are the chances for snakes. They are then better 

 seen by their natural enemies, among which, perhaps, 

 the most deadly are the laughing jackasses (Daceio 

 gigantca) — a kingfisher which has taken to killing 

 and feeding on snakes instead of on fishes. 



We arrived at a clearing in the forest where there 

 are one or two small but comfortable wooden houses, 

 at one of which we passed the night. A good many 

 half-wild cattle roam about (my friend owned 2000). 

 They lead a semi-savage life, a few being trained to 

 come near the station to be fed and milked. A 

 number of rough forest horses, brought up in a 

 similar way, also hung around the place. We 

 mounted these, and rode about eight miles into the 

 more unfrequented parts, where the kangaroos still 

 abound. They had recently been much disturbed 

 through rabbit-shooting, but I saw two red wallaby 

 kangaroos and one "old man" [Macropus major). 

 I had never seen them before alive, except in 

 menageries and Zoological Gardens, and as a natura- 

 list and geologist, I was therefore deeply interested 

 in seeing them in their native haunts. They are pro- 

 bably the oldest race of mammals in the world, and 

 their ancestors lived in England during the Secondary 

 Period, which must have been millions of years ago. 



The way these animals leaped away and escaped 



