216



Mr. Edwin Ashby,



the gum trees grow to the height of 300 feet, with a dense under¬

growth of smaller trees and hushes, that make it very difficult to

push one’s way through the scrub. In fact in one spot I found

that the wallabies had made their runs on the top of some low bushes

that were matted together with a sort of wiry grass, I had to take

the same path as the wallabies, hut my legs now and again slipped

through into space which was very awkward. This country is cut

up into a great number of little steep-sided valleys, the sides covered

with masses of glorious ferns, and the bottoms, where the burling

brook of clear water ran in and out and over the tree fern stems,

was a perfect canopy of tree fern fronds, the fern trunks standing

like pillars, each stem festooned with the delicate drapery of filmy

ferns, and some six to ten feet above our heads a ceiling of delicate

green composed of the fronds of the tall tree ferns. This country

then is the favourite home of the lyre bird. My visit to this spot

was paid in the end of July. I was awakened in the early morning

with the loud but musical cries of a cock lyre bird, the sound

coming out of the deep gully below the paling hut in which I slept.

The night had been frosty, and as I entered the gully each delicate

fern frond glistened like gems, and at the tip of each of the filmy

fern fronds was a little ball of ice, which as soon as the sun was up

began to melt and gave one a real early morning shower bath. At

that time of year the lyre birds are mating, and it is the custom for

the birds to congregate at a fixed spot in the scrub, where there is

sufficient space in the scrub for the cocks to show off before the

admiring gaze of the hen birds. One such spot, ten to fifteen paces

across, surrounded with a wall of saplings of hazel, musk, and other

tall bushes or small trees, was shut in on the creek side by a large

bramble bush. I was able to stalk a cock lyre bird who was per¬

forming on his ‘ seat,’ or more correctly, his ‘ scratch,’ a slightly

raised mound in the centre of the open space. It took a long time

to reach the spot because one could only move while the bird was

singing, or more correctly, calling; the second he stopped, even if

one was standing on one foot, it was not safe to put the other foot

to the ground, because the least snap of a brittle fern stem or stick

under one’s foot would be heard by the cock bird, whose hearing is

very acute, and he would warn the hens and away they all would



