Dat: 
No. 
No. in 
A.J. 
Campbell's No. of 
Book. 
Eggs. 
THE JACKSONIAN OOLOGICAL COLLECTION. 
for from the tiny Blue Wren to the gorgeous Rifle Bird of Paradise, the range of bird life is so wide 
and varied, as to render such a choice extremely difficult. If, however, there is such a thing as an 
aristocracy among the birds, for distinction, that is not merely based on fine feathers or sweet 
notes, the palm should certainly be accorded to the Lyre Bird, as his handsome yet not garish plumage, 
his retiring habits, exacting selection of the loveliest localities wherein to live and breed, and unique 
accomplishments of mimicry and vocalisation, render him a type apart from all others, a very patrician 
amongst his feathered kindred. Though the Lyre Bird is not a common sight in the scrubs, his rarity 
is only apparent as the result of the shy seclusion in which he so jealously keeps himself, for in reality 
these beautiful natives of thick forest, or jungle and tangled gully, are by no means scarce. Of the 
three species, this one under notice ranges through the eastern, central, and coastal districts of New 
South Wales, from Monaro northwards to New England and the Clarence River, and as far west as the 
Jenolan Caves. In my early ornithological days, I once found a Lyre Bird’s nest on the face of a low 
cliff in the mountains, and did not then know to what the find really amounted; not having time to 
return, the problem remained unsolved, until, with later discoveries, it was finally cleared up. One 
condition equally applies to all the nests of the Lyre Bird, and that is the difficulty attending their 
discovery. If a ledge of rock is chosen, there is generally no path to it, or one that lures the hunter to 
risk his neck to very little purpose ; should, however, the nest be built on the ground, it will generally 
be in such a tangle of undergrowth that its discovery is little more than pure chance. Experience 
teaches me that the one prominent characteristic of this handsome bird is shyness; he loves not the 
open forest, and is unknown on the plain. But where the scrub is dense, where palms and tree ferns 
join their arching fronds in cloistered aisles of greenery, and where the mountain stream ripples through 
the boulders of deeply buried creeks, there, above all places, you will find the Lyre Bird, or, at any rate, 
the evident traces of his tenancy. But if you want more than a glimpse of him, you must watch 
patiently in his haunts, and move with the velvet footfall of the cat, for the snapping of a stick when 
perhaps close upon your quarry, will result in suddenly hearing his whistling call a hundred yards away, 
and the whole “ shikarri” has to be done over again. Though a very poor flier, the bird is the swiftest 
feathered runner of the bush, and will cover the distance through the thickest scrubs in seconds, as 
against the minutes of his clumsy pursuer, without lifting a wing. The breeding haunts and 
habits of all birds generally indicate their main characteristics, and this is particularly the case with the 
Lyre Bird, in fact, his cleverness in eluding discovery, or baffling pursuit, and wonderful powers of 
mimicry, will never be appreciated by the observer till he has followed him through miles of tangled 
undergrowth, stumbled over boulders and logs, screwed round ugly corners on bluff or cliff, and splashed 
through foliage-shrouded creeks in search of him, while all the time that deceptive cry is ahead, or 
seemingly so, for, like most mimics, the bird is by instinct a ventriloquist. 
Everything tends to difficulty in making and recording reliable observations of the breeding habits 
of this interesting bird ; the period of incubation is unusually long, extending up to five or six weeks, 
during which time the hen does not rely on her mate for food, but like the Rifle Bird of Paradise 
(Ptilorhis pavadisea), she leaves the nest in search of it, and the feeding ground is often at a consider- 
able distance away from the nest, near which, strangely enough, the male bird is never seen after the 
egg has been laid. This last curious fact was borne out by my own observations, and probably by 
many other naturalists. Then, again, the young bird does not leave the nest for eight or ten weeks 
after hatching, which is altogether an abnormal time compared with that similarly employed by other 
poor or non-flying birds ; the habit of the entire family, therefore, is not merely shyness but absolutely 
secretiveness, for they are endowed with the gift of noiseless movement, slipping through or over the 
ruffle of sticks and leaves without a crack or rustle, while the hunter or observer has to be very quick 
to get even a glimpse of the bird. They often make some extraordinary jumps, and Prince Albert's 
Lyre Bird (data No. 576) frequently jumps eight or ten feet from the ground into a convenient branch 
of a tree, and, like the other two species, it continues to ascend in successive leaps, until it has attained 
a sufficient elevation to enable it to fly, or gently float, down into the gully below. 
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