OCEANIA — WOOD 389 



may obtain in the case of insects, they are lured by the ilhiminated 

 lantern as such, for no sea bird would deliberately smash into an 

 object, especially one so visible as a night light, unless he were de- 

 ceived as to its solidarity. No ; the fact is the bird thinks, so avers 

 Mr. McDonald, that the lighted area of the lantern and its imme- 

 diate surroundings constitutes an exit into daylight bej^ond. We all 

 know that a bird in a darkened barn or other inclosure easily dis- 

 covers and flies through a hole or other opening that gives on the 

 daylight. It is not that he is attracted by the light area of the exit, 

 but he visualizes and seeks, by means of the opening, the free air of 

 heaven beyond. Thus it is with certain birds at sea ; they expect to 

 fly through the light and not at it. The dark or dimly-lighted 

 canopy of the night represents to them a sort of antechamber of the 

 day; the light at the masthead is one of, it may be, many openings 

 through which the great, diurnal outdoors may be reached. Pensieri 

 vani for the bird, you may say, but not more vain, is it, than the 

 beliefs about the causes of daylight and darkness that were devoutly 

 held by educated and polished races of mankind not so many years 

 ago. I can not recollect that Gaetke or any other observer of light- 

 house tragedies has explained them in this fashion, but the chief 

 officer's theory sounds feasible to me. At any rate I give it for 

 what it may be worth. 



Then there is that other question in comparative psychology to 

 answer : Is there, in this search for light, evidence of a superior or 

 of an inferior avian intelligence? Because we know that there are 

 sea birds that follow or fly about ships who are not attracted by 

 lights in this manner — gulls and albatrosses, for example — probably 

 because these are not nocturnal wanderers, except on moonlight 

 nights. 



Among the many Australasian avifauna that I was set upon see- 

 ing in their native surroundings if possible, was the lyre bird — 

 familiar to everyone who has read about the curiosities of the 

 "Lonely Continent." It is only the full-grown male that has the 

 wonderful tail — composed of 16 feathers, the two outer curved 

 to form that remarkable lyre-shaped ornament that distinguishes 

 it from any other species. The best known and the most highly 

 ornamented species {Menura superha) is a native of New South 

 Wales and southern Queensland. It is about as large as a small 

 turkey. The possession of this beautiful and wondrous tail is not, 

 hoAvever, the only unusual quality that distinguishes this peculiar 

 bird; he is a fine singer and peerless mimic. Just how he came 

 to be included in the Pseudoscines^ or false song birds, is difficult to 

 understand, considering that his musical ability has been known 

 and recognized from early Australian days. Another accomplish- 



