200 Campbell, A Psalm of Dawn. T^nd" April 



It was Christmas Day, and all nature seemed hushed in 

 preparation for its welcome. The night crept quickly on, how- 

 ever, to a sleepless watcher, anxious to note the birds and their 

 order of awakening. Before long the first of the dawn was 

 discerned creeping in behind the stars and brightening up the 

 deep blue background in which they lay. Not until it was 

 much lighter, however, did the first bird call. 



The Magpie is early, and the Jackass is earlier, but this 

 Christmas morning it was the little White-shafted Fantail that 

 was first to welcome the coming day. At 3.45 it first whistled, 

 and at intervals of a couple of minutes it continued. The Brush 

 Cuckoo, at 4 o'clock, was next. Five minutes later a party of 

 Jackasses burst out rowdily ; they soon awakened other families 

 on the adjacent hillside, and, when their laughing had died 

 down, like a far-away echo could be heard yet another party 

 near the top of the range. Then quickly followed the Blue 

 Wren with its merry twitter, the Yellow Robin with its 

 persistent piping note, and the Magpie with its well-known 

 carols. All these birds called and whistled away some little 

 time before a second chorus was begun, about 4.20, by the 

 White-throated Thickhead, the Shrike-Thrush, and the White- 

 eyes. 



By 4.30 the dawn psalm was at the best. The Brush Cuckoo, 

 now joined by the Fan-tailed Cuckoo, gave out their sliding and 

 whirring notes with hardly a breathing space, and several 

 White-eyes by the creek kept up a continuous warbling song. 

 This morning song of the White-eye is different to the single 

 call note, and different also to the quiet Thrush-like song which 

 it sometimes gives forth during the heat of the day. It is the 

 call heard as a party of them is flying overhead. When three or 

 four birds keep at this persistently the effect is beautiful indeed. 



Last to salute the morn was a Coachwhip, which was known 

 to have taken up his abode in this part of the creek, out a little 

 from the main fern gully, which is always looked upon as its 

 true home. At first he could not get the hen bird to ansv/er his 

 whip-like call with her two little notes (which she usually does 

 so quickly that it is difficult to say the notes do not all come 

 from one bird), so he tried again in a lower, coaxing tone, but 

 she was still asleep or indifferent. Then he tried again in a 

 high, impatient key, and when this time the answer came he was 

 content, and whistled again in the usual tone. 



By sunrise at 4.40 all the bird music had subsided, and the 

 birds were busy with their morning meal. 



Yet another morning of observation was spent, to see what 

 could be gathered in corroboration of the first notes. 



The White-shafted Fantail was again easily first. There were 

 two pairs of these birds about the camp ; the nest of one was 

 discovered in a sapling just alongside our kitchen. The sitting 



