BIRDS OF OUR BUSH 



by the audible nature of their contentment. When on bird 

 photography expeditions we were usually alone. 



We have a most vivid remembrance of one night spent 

 beside a small creek at Evelyn. We wished to obtain a 

 picture of the parents of the little Mountain Thrush, whose 

 portrait appears on page 29, and decided to build ourselves 

 a comfortable mia-mia (if such a mia-mia can be imagined) 

 beside the nest. Oh ! and we had a camp bed, too, a luxury 

 we seldom thought of and never felt like carrying. Half- 

 way from the station to the creek it started to rain — rain 

 properly and thoroughly. By the time we reached the 

 nest we were wet, the bed and bed clothes w^ere wet, and 

 all the material with which we had hoped to build a shelter 

 was well and truly wet. The wood which should have 

 made us a fire was also wet, and it was almost dark. After 

 scraping under logs and in hollow trees for an hour or so,. 

 and wasting countless matches, we at last succeeded in 

 starting a fire. We sat by it till daylight. All this we 

 would have felt thoroughly worth while had we, after all, 

 accomplished our object, but we did not. Those perverse 

 parents point blank refused to feed their children while the 

 camera faced in their direction. We tried our patience 

 against theirs for a considerable time — and they won. 



Evelyn was unkind to us on another occasion. One 

 ominous-looking morning we disregarded our better judg- 

 ment and embarked on a day's ramble. The extent of the 

 ramble turned out to be from the Evelyn station to a large 

 hollow log not far from the scene of our previous little 

 comedy, and back to the station after the lapse of several 

 interesting hours. Our chief amusement during this time 

 consisted of guessing competitions as to whose neck the next 

 drop of water would choose. On this occasion, however, 

 the discomforts of the hollow log and of a subsequent two 

 hours' train journey in sodden clothes was almost compen- 

 sated for by the production of a picture which, though by no 

 means good, still is highly prized by reason of the difficulties 

 under which it was taken. Not far from the log a pair of 

 Scarlet-breasted Robins had a nest in a pile of wood, and 

 in desperation we decided to brave the elements in an 

 attempt to expose a plate or two. What little doubt there 

 was as to whether we were already thoroughly wet was 

 dispelled completely before the photograph reproduced on 

 page 41 was obtained. The necessity for a lengthy 



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