CHAPTER III. 

 SEA BIRDS' HAUNTS 



PERHAPS it is a relic of boyhood, this keen de- 

 light in lonely isles that lures so many lands- 

 men to the sea. Or it may be that sirens send 

 musical messages to win us away. Certain it is, that 

 islands, especially such as are inhabited only by wild 

 creatures, possess an elusive charm. Australian seas 

 are rich in isles, many of which are sea birds' nesting 

 haunts. 



The islands of Bass Strait have long interested 

 naturalists. Some years ago the Royal Australasian 

 Ornithologists' Union chartered a small steamer for 

 a cruise among the isles, and I was one of her pas- 

 sengers. Later, as a special representative of the 

 Melbourne Herald, I enjoyed a cruise on the Federal 

 Fisheries' Investigation vessel, Endeavour. These 

 two short voyages enabled me to study "island life" 

 under the most favourable conditions. 



King Island, which in recent years has become 

 well populated, lies midway between the south-east of 

 Cape Otway, on the Victorian coast, and the north- 

 west corner of Tasmania. It was frequented only by 

 fishermen and sealers in the early days. Going ashore 

 in November, 1908, at Currie Harbour, we found a 

 thriving township, and stayed at a large and comfort- 

 able hotel. Two days were devoted to excursions. 

 The sand-blow, some hundreds of acres in extent, at 

 the south-western end of the island, is a place of bones. 

 Tons of sub-fossil remains are scattered about on the 

 surface, and vast quantities, doubtless, lie hidden 

 beneath the sand. We collected Wombat skulls, por- 

 tions of the skeletons of "Native Cats" [Dasyurus] 

 and Wallabies, leg bones of the Emu and fragments 



