68 BUSH DAYS 



arrives here in September and October, if lucky enough to 

 escape the guns, departs from these shores in March for his 

 home in Japan. There on the grass-clad uplands, at the foot 

 of the famous Fujiyama, our little friend of the field and table 

 builds his nest and fulfils his domestic duties. 



But though these globe-trotters come here year after year, 

 they do not appear to have instilled a love of gadding into our 

 native birds. Of all the shore birds and waders that build and 

 breed in Australia, none are really migratory. True, they 

 wander continually throughout the country, but that is a 

 question of food supply. In a continent like ours, where one 

 part may be suffering from drought, while another is flooded 

 out, it is natural that the birds must move their quarters if 

 they do not wish to be starved. And as the insects follow the 

 crops, grasses and other vegetable attractions, so we have the 

 herons, the ibises, the cranes, and the spoonbills following in 

 the wake of the insect pests and keeping them well under con- 

 trol, too. 



Drought is the bird's greatest enemy in Australia, and has 

 more to do with forcing them from their native haunts than 

 any other cause. At times whole colonies of birds are driven 

 from one part of the country to another for want of water. 

 Perhaps the most marvellous instance of this on recond was in 

 1840, when the little black-tailed native hens positively 

 stormed Adelaide. They ran about the streets, crowded the 

 rivers and tanks, and did much damage to the fields. They 



