JUNE 99 



than a dozen yards when suddenly, almost below me, a large 

 brown bird shot out from the ground, and skimmed down the 

 gorge, with rounded wings. It was a hen lyre bird. Almost 

 beside myself with excitement, I scrambled down, and there, 

 at the foot of a big blue-gum, on a jutting rock, with a com- 

 manding view, was the nest I had so often longed to see. A 

 large, loosely-made nest it was, formed of sticks, and lined with 

 bark and moss and roots and feathers ; through the large en- 

 trance at the side I could see quite plainly into it, and there in 

 the hollow lay one beautiful purple-tinged grey egg. Very care- 

 fully I put my hand in, and lifted it out, to gaze at the spots 

 and blotches which beautified its surface ; and very proud of 

 myself I felt as I looked. 



For the lyre-bird's nest is one of the hardest of all to find, 

 so safely is it hidden away as a rule in mountain fastnesses. 

 Yet here was 1, half a dozen miles from the General Post 

 Office, holding this much-coveted treasure in my hand. And 

 I laughed to myself as I thought how egg-collectors would 

 envy me this find. Very gently I put the egg back in its 

 hiding place, and after making mental notes of the exact 

 position, turned homewards. In a month or so I will go back 

 and find a fluffy chick perhaps, but in the meantime the egg 

 must be left in secret safety. 



Do you wonder why I sang as I went back through the 

 bush? I had come out to look for springtime in June, and 

 had found flowers and birds, and greatest treasure of all, the. 

 lyre-bird's home. 



