FINE FEATHERS AND FINE BIRDS 151 



too, by a soft, sweet note that suggested an echo of 

 the crack coming from far away. 



On my next visit (7th October), the male bird 

 was in charge of the nest, and all was well. Two 

 days later the female graced the home, brave in the 

 pride of motherhood; a wriggling, broad-headed 

 little bird had emerged from one shell, and the other 

 was suspiciously dark. During the next few days 

 the solitary chick the second egg proved infertile 

 thrived ; but on 19th October there was an empty 

 nest and wailing parents. Six days later the nest 

 had been removed taken with a cleanness indicat- 

 ing that the birds were responsible. 



After that I heard but little of the Celtic-voiced 

 birds until September of the following year. On 

 the morning of a dull, close day the ventriloquial 

 notes echoed softly about the same locality, and, less 

 than a fortnight later, I found the nest. It was built 

 neatly into the top of a collection of sticks that 

 previously had done duty as the nest of a pair of 

 Babblers. The female Whistler fluttered off at the 

 sound of a foot-fall, and did her brave best to draw 

 attention away from the precious eggs. Hopping 

 stiffly over the ground, she "fluffed" her feathers 

 tragically, not in the wild, distracted manner of 

 ground-nesting birds, but exactly after the style 

 which the home-loving Yellow Robin often adopts 

 to lure away intruders. Though like in cause and 

 effect, this pretty performance is quite distinct from 

 the "broken-wing" ruse used by the White-fronted 

 Bush-Chat, Yellow-tufted Honeyeater, and one or 

 two other species. Two days later the eggs had 

 disappeared, presumably having been stolen by 

 marauding boys, and the site was deserted. 



