100 TREGELLAS, Notes on the Lyre-Bird. [^ttoT 



most endearing expressions, the while gazing earnestly with 

 those lovely large brown eyes, and we told her we were friends 

 and intended no harm to her or hers. This assurance seemed 

 to comfort her, as she resumed her scratching. What impressed 

 us forcibly was the fact that we were holding converse with and 

 taking photos of one of the shyest of God's creatures, and yet 

 she trusted us implicitly. 



On October 3rd I got a surprise when taking a short cut to 

 the nests. In a tree-fern fifteen feet up was what appeared to 

 be an old nest ; a "Wattle Day" button pinned on the trunk signi- 

 fied that I had climbed it earlier in the season. The nest showed 

 signs of renovation, and a squeak told me that it was occupied. 

 Judge of my surprise when I drew out a baby Lyre about four 

 days old. This was indeed something new, as I had never be- 

 fore found a young one of that age so late in the season. There 

 being no sign of the hen bird about, I took a picture of the nest. 

 At No. 2 nest the mother was as noisy and restless as before, 

 and we took only one snap of her. The young one, now six 

 weeks old, was also imbued with the same spirit, striking out 

 when a hand was placed near the nest and screeching loudly. 



This nest was about 3 feet above a blackwood butt, and not 

 €asy of access to a young bird. I think for that reason his 

 mother had delayed his debut. Although he had not been out 

 of the nest, he seemed glad enough when we placed him on the 

 ground. He began calling out whilst running, and could fly 

 fairly well, having short rounded wings. After photograi)hing 

 him we caught him to replace him in the nest. To this he 

 strenuously objected. His taste of liberty had whetted his appe- 

 tite for more, and, by the time we had him safely in, there was 

 not much resemblance to a nest left. On account of his belli- 

 cose tendencies, his lordly mien, and greater size, we felt sure 

 that this young bird was a male. 



No. 3 nest still contained the young bird. He was now 4^ 

 weeks old, but was just as quiet as the last one was rowdy. The 

 mother also was just as friendly, watching our operations with 

 an absorbing interest. As if to repay us for the honor con- 

 ferred on her, she treated us to a unique performance. Looking 

 straight in our faces she carolled like a magpie, laughed like a 

 Kookaburra, barked like a fox terrier, yelped like a fox, 

 cackled like a hen, "tu-whooed" like a young Podargus, 

 whistled like a Pilot-Bird, shrieked like' a Bell-ALigpie 

 (Strei)era), and wailed like a Chough. We were enraptured, 

 enthralled, and there she stood till tears came into our 

 eyes with very joy. She was majestic, sublime, and ]iroved 

 that it is not only the male that mocks. 



October 17th, 1920, I shall never forget, as it was the last 

 occasion on which we called at the nests. It was "Good-bye" 

 to the Lyre-P.irds and all that it meant to us. The morning 

 came in cool, fragrant, and bracing, and we were early astir. 

 Reaching the last nest discovered, I found that the little one 



