HUNTING THE BEAUTIFUL SONGSTER 111 



my diary may give a better idea of the place and its 

 surroundings than anything I can now write. 



MONDAY, Aug. 21, 1882. When we awoke this 

 morning, we could hear, coming from the scrub near 

 the creek, the liquid notes of a lyre-bird, and after 

 swallowing a hasty breakfast, we started in pursuit. 

 I concealed myself in the scrub, while Shelley went 

 down stream and returned, keeping up a low whistle 

 as he came toward me, to prevent my shooting in his 

 direction, as he drove the bird past. I had not waited 

 long when I saw a bird running on a fallen tree, and 

 with a snap shot I secured the prize. It was a female 

 in very good plumage, and I was very much de- 

 lighted. 



Then we went farther down stream, seeing and hear- 

 ing several more, but they were so shy and so quick, 

 that we shot only one. They are about the size of a 

 common fowl, slate-colored, with soft, fluffy feathers, 

 and seem to depend for escape, on their legs rather 

 than their wings. They have stout claws for scratching, 

 and their eyes are placed on the sides of their heads, in 

 such a manner that they can see in all directions. I 

 saw one male bird only, and his tail gave him a very 

 peacock-like appearance, as he flashed past me in the 

 thick scrub. 



We saw several small kangaroos about the size of a 

 black-and-tan dog, but did not get any. We found the 

 lyre-birds very hard to skin, as their heads are so large 



