237 



1 and stretches his wings for an hour or so, then I take him on my hand open his cage door 

 and he jumps on the thick piece of oak-bough, which is fixed at the back of the cage, 

 and there sits lengthways. 



"If the sun is out I take his cage into the garden and he then jumps down on the 

 floor and lies flat, just like a cat, basking in the sun. For a bath I let him sit on my hand 

 and turn the water tap on over him, which he loves." P. F. M, Galloway. 



Hmeno tbe JBusb BirDs. 



By "L. B. J." 

 From the Western Mail, Perth, W. Australia, Dec. 25th, 1907. 

 "Now every day. and, with hardly a break, all day long, the yellow fields are given 

 over to the harvester. Patient horses and impatient men toil and sweat beneath the 

 ' scorching summer sun. . . . During' the great heat of day, nearly all the birds of the 

 ' bush take shelter in the shade afforded by the larger trees. The smaller feathered fry 

 ' seem to heed the sun's rays less than their bigger bodied brethren. The beautiful Blue 

 ' Bonnet darts from bough to bough, so rapid in his flight that he gleams like a sapphire 

 ' against the deep olive green of the tangled scrub. The Red-breast swings pendulous on 

 ' a spray, shooting little inquisitive glances first on the one side, then on the other. The 

 ' brilliant pluinaged Bird of Paradise flashes a streak of living gold, between the white 

 ' stems of the York gums. The Kingfisher, scarcely less lovely in hue, haunts the shallow 

 ' pools of the winding creek. The diminutive Silver-Eye is busy from dawn to dusk in 

 ' garden and orchard, and the ubiquitous Wagtail chatters and scolds throughout the live- 

 ' long day. In the early morning, when the red forerunner of the dawn lingers on the 

 lonely hills and all the east is golden with the flying shafts of the uprising sun : or in the 

 evening, when one half of the earth lies steeped in swift gathering shadows, and the rose 

 1 rays shoot fan-wise from the fiery west, reaching nearly to the zenith of the fast-fading 

 ' sky, these are the best times for those who would be observant of the wild life which 

 ' prudently lies dormant until the sun has spent his power and departed to the uuder 

 ' world. Then the small, grey Kangaroo hops leisurely through the dense scrub. . . . 

 ' Green Parrots are everywhere, their plaintive notes sound from the orchards, for the 

 ' apricots are fast ripening. All along the harvest fields where the trees overshadow the 

 ' yellow stubble, they swing in the branches, or go swooping down on the grain squandered 

 ' by the ungainly stripper as it rattles from end to end of the broad paddocks. The 

 ' Kosella, a small variety of the parrot tribe, not much larger than a parrakeet, with 

 ' crimson breast and dorsal plumage of a duller green than that of the 'Twenty-eight,' 

 ' flits unwearingly from Slieoak to Sheoak ; parrots seem especially fond of these trees with 

 1 their innumerable slender offshoots and thick, impenetrable shade, although, perhaps, 

 ' the Jam-tree lias an almost equal place in their aflections. Where there is water birds 

 1 will foregather morning and evening and at this time of the year, when the creeks are 

 ' dry save for an occasional pool, and many of the water-holes empty likewise until the 

 1 coming of the first rains, the fowls of the air flock from considerable distances to some 

 '■ green spot, where they are certain of finding the means of slaking their thirst. . . . Now 

 ' is the season for the plump Bronze-wing Pigeon, its crop full of corn gleaned from the 

 kindly earth, or the scattered wattle seeds such as its heart loves. When young and inex- 

 perienced these birds are by no means difficult to approach, and will perch upon a bough 

 and eye the intruder with a confiding curiosity, quite heedless of the sinister shape of the 

 gleaming double-barrel ; but the old birds are more wary, and seek safety in instant 

 flight. Dining the fierce heat of the day they may frequently be flushed in the neigh- 

 bourhood of rocks, especially on the slope of a hill. Dull brown, in fact, somewhat shabby 

 looking; seen in shadow, when the sunbeams strike aslant upon them, these pigeons, 

 particularly the cock-birds, reveal a remarkably handsome plumage; according to the 



