^"I'g/o^'] Whitlock, On the East MurchisoH-. 217 



appearance is darker than that of either of the foregoing species. 

 The most usual notes heard resemble the ordinary harsh sounds 

 produced by the White-browed Babbler, and in calling up Bower- 

 Birds I have often brought Babblers in their place. But the male 

 Bower-Bird, and also, I think, the female, is a great mimic, and 

 reproduces to perfection the notes of many surrounding birds. All 

 the same, he seems to have a preference for harsh sounds, such as 

 the alarm notes of the local Shrike-Thrush, Carter Honey-eater, 

 White-browed Babbler, and the tremulous cries of young Hawks 

 clamouring for food. I have heard a male imitate the notes of 

 Cracticus leucopterus to perfection, and, again, a female gave a perfect 

 rendering of those of Cracticus picatus. Certain other notes of the male 

 were an exact imitation of the sound produced by a rabbit running 

 over a heap of dried twigs. This was an unmistakable piece of 

 mimicry, as the whole acacia thicket was growing on the top of a big 

 rabbit-earth. Other sounds were like the mewing of a cat, and may 

 have been acquired from the Red-bi'easted Babbler, which was 

 breeding near at hand. 



Towards the end of October the attendance at the acacia play- 

 ground, and also at the play-ground under the mulga to the south, 

 became less constant. I threw out all the green sandal-wood nuts 

 from the archway at the latter, and they were not replaced. The 

 plot was thickening, and my anxiety to find the nest grew intense. 



Near this latter play-ground was a tract of open grassy 

 country with a few beef- woods and isolated gums. It was in the 

 shape of a bay, and was merely an extension of a much larger area of 

 plain away to the east. On the north side of this bay was a thicket 

 of fairly large mulga bushes, with a few casuarinas and gums. The 

 eastern extremity of this scrub formed a nari'ow projection into the 

 bay of open country. In a group of very small casuarinas I found 

 two interesting-looking nests. One of these I decided was old ; the 

 other bore a close resemblance to the nest of the Tooth-billed Bower- 

 Bird photographed by Mr. Sid. W. Jackson. I was watching this nest, 

 and I always mentally referred to it as Jackson's nest. There was one 

 feature about it I did not quite like — a small bunch of casuarina 

 needles was suspended outside the nest and looked as though it had 

 been removed from the lining. The play-ground was about 500 yards 

 to the west of this nest. On 28th October I was passing the neigh- 

 bourhood of this nest after a long search in a large belt of scrub to the 

 south and on the other side of the bay, and thought I would have a 

 look. I walked to the foot of the tree. Things appeared quite 

 imchanged, and I did not climb up. I continued my walk, but bad 

 hardly got clear of the casuarinas when I caught sight of a Bower- Bird 

 in a neighbouring bush. I came to a sudden halt and watched. 

 Presently it began to preen its feathers. This was interesting, and I 

 began to feel a pleasurable excitement. After watching for five 

 minutes, the bird wheeled round and flew off in the opposite direction 

 to where the nest lay. I followed as quickly as I could, and had not 

 gone far before a dark, thick-set bird flashed past me going towards 

 the nest. I made a mental note of the fact, and commenced a close 

 search in all the neighbouring bushes. All in vain. However, I was 

 not surprised, having hunted that scrub more than once. I returned 

 again to the foot of the tree containing Jackson's nest. There was no 

 sign of any bird whatever. For all that I decided to climb up. 

 Hardly had I set foot on the lowest branch before, with a great 



