NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY OF GLASGOW. 21 



I heard a settler here describe how astonished he was to hear 

 what he supposed to be so many different birds congregated in the 

 same spot, and how on taking up his gun and following up the 

 sounds, he had come on a Lyre-bird. 



A young fellow in Fernshaw, who had often hunted them, 

 described how he had crawled up to within range of a Lyre-bird 

 when dancing on its mounds. Two hen birds were present watching 

 and admiring his caperings ; he had his tail feathers spread out, 

 and brought so far forward that they almost rested on his head; in 

 this way the prettiest part of the tail, which, unlike that of the 

 peacock, is the underside, was exposed to full view. So interesting 

 was the sight that the spectator never thought of firing. The bird 

 now and then ceased mocking ; suddenly one of the females dis- 

 covered that danger was near, and gave a warning cry, when 

 instantly the male lowered and closed his tail, the act of doing so, 

 as my informant said, seeming to shoot him in amongst the bushes 

 and undergrowth. 



Xow to return to my original story. 2s ot meeting any birds in 

 the copse-wood, we tried another close by, but with no better luck ; 

 we then dived into a densely wooded gully, composed chiefly of 

 trees of small growth, from which many rope-like creepers hung 

 down. Tree-ferns were numerous, and here and there a tall gum- 

 tree rose through the smaller vegetation, towering far above, while 

 in places, large logs, partly covered with moss, lay rotting on the 

 ground ; the moisture in the air and under foot seemed congenial 

 to mosquitos and leeches, as we found several of the latter on our 

 boots. A little dog with us knew how to " bail up " the Lyre-birds, 

 and very soon his barking told that he had found a " pheasant," as 

 they are sometimes called. As we hurried up my companion 

 passed immediately under the tree in Mdiich the bird was sitting, 

 its attention being taken up by the barking of the dog, but, before 

 he could lire, it had hopped on to another tree and then soared 

 down the valley, where it was lost to us, nor did we find another 

 that day, as they were not whistling, so we had to return home 

 with an empty bag. 



When riding one evening along the ranges from Marisville, a 

 town about sixty miles X.E. of Melbourne, to my surprise I saw all of 

 a sudden come from the wooded hill that rose on my right, a brown 

 flat mass with a long tail, the end of which resembled that of a 

 fish. So like was it in general appearance to a Turbot, that for an 



