134 Barrett, Notes on the Rock-Parrakeet. [ j^^'jan. 



Australia, even for his vision of the Dartford Warbler in " a 

 curious splendour wrought by the sunlight in the dark but 

 semi-translucent, delicate feathers of his mantle." 



It was during the camp-out of the Australasian Ornithologists' 

 Union on Eyre Peninsula, in October last. A small party, 

 including myself, hired a conveyance (accredited with being a 

 spring trap) and drove a distance of about \6 miles to Lake 

 Wangary, on the west coast. We spent three days exploring 

 the neighbourhood, and on one occasion, through the kindness 

 of a resident farmer, were taken to Kellidie Bay, a lovely little 

 inlet of the sea, tranquil as a lake when we saw it, and with a 

 background of mountain peaks reflected in the still water. 

 Driving along the rough road which girdles the Bay, we flushed 

 from the long grass beyond the wheel-tracks flocks of the 

 beautiful Neophema petropJiila. Hundreds of the graceful little 

 birds rose, almost from beneath the horse's hoofs, and flew a 

 few yards to settle on the branches of the nearest eucalypt or 

 she-oak. They were easy to approach, and one of our gunners 

 soon obtained a brace for purposes of identification — for on the 

 wing the birds closely resembled N. elegans. 



On reaching the homestead of Coffin Bay Station, which 

 overlooks Kellidie Bay, the owner, Mr. Mortlock, informed us 

 that there were many birds breeding on an "islet which lay 

 about a quarter of a mile from the shore near the outlet to the 

 sea. Boats were kindly placed at our disposal, and, embarking 

 with guns and cameras, we rowed to the island of desire. 



As the boats drew near Goat Island, a gun was fired from 

 one of the boats by some too eager hand, and immediately 

 the air was filled with winged forms. From behind the 

 green curtains of MeseinbryantJiemuni which draped the rock 

 ledges from water-line to summit of the island, Rock-Parrakeets 

 flew, screaming, out of the darkness of their nesting-holes into 

 the sunlight, which made their golden-green plumage shimmer 

 like satin. It was a very beautiful sight for all ; entrancing to 

 one who had not seen the Neophema before in its native haunts. 

 " Rock-lover " ! Was ever bird more happily named } 



Goat Island is barely an acre and a half in extent. Its steep, 

 rugged shores, rising here and there to a height of 20 feet, are 

 honeycombed, for the rock (dune limestone) is soft and water-worn, 

 and the Parrakeets have claimed it for their own, save that a few 

 Silver Gulls and Sooty Oyster-catchers make use of some of the 

 ledges in nesting time. The vegetation consists of small, wiry 

 shrubs and grasses, and the pig-face drapes the rocks, screening 

 the caves from the sun. The flat summit is strewn with limestone 

 boulders. Several cairns were, for some purpose, long ago built 

 of these stones, but they are now tumbled down, and the 

 Parrakeets nest in the interstices. At every step, almost, we 

 flushed a bird, and by pulling away the stones found its nest. 



