A MEMORABLE DAY'S HUNT 117 



of his mind, for the moment we alarmed him, he short- 

 ened up into a stumpy sausage, bristling with minute 

 spines. I regretted that we had no way of preserving 

 such a curiosity, as he certainly would have made a 

 sensation in America. We have since learned that 

 they are quite common, and have been found six feet 

 in length. It is a wonder some enterprising Yankee 

 does not .start a factory among the Plenty Ranges, and 

 ship these worms to America as first-class bologna 

 sausages. 



We shot another lyre-bird, a female, as usual. The 

 male bird seems much more shy than the female, and 

 of quicker sight. He has a way of flashing an instant 

 before one, then disappearing as if by magic, leaving 

 one gazing stupidly about. 



I have had some bad tumbles since coming here ; to- 

 day I fell off one of the great logs, landing in a heap 

 among the ferns, which greatly amused Shelley. 



FRIDAY, August 25. This morning, walking sev- 

 eral miles toward the other side of the range, we 

 reached the head of a gully, where the lyre-birds 

 seemed to be holding a jubilee. The morning was fair 

 and warm, but everything was covered with dew. 

 Shelley walked cautiously through the scrub, while I 

 went ahead on the outside and entered some distance 

 below, where I sat very quietly watching for the birds. 

 Our first trial was unsuccessful, although there were 

 several birds between us. The next time I saw a fine 



