JULY 103 



outsides are to be seen. Beyond the pink carpet the tall 

 spikes of the lysinema stand like sentinels amongst the bushes, 

 shedding a faint perfume abroad. Behind them again are the 

 banksias, their orange bottle-brushes shining amongst the dark 

 green leaves and making a fine feeding place for some New 

 Holland and white-cheeked honey-eaters. Already these birds 

 are busily building, and in a thick tangle of flowering needle - 

 bush and banksia I found the nest of the white-cheeked with 

 two newly-hatched chicks. As there is hardly a month in the 

 year when I have not found the nest of either of these two 

 birds, they cannot be taken as an indication of spring, but in a 

 small bushy turpentine in a cleared space I found what is always 

 the first sign of the new season a tomtit's nest. It was 

 almost ready for eggs, and the little birds were busily flying to 

 and fro with soft feathers for the lining. Their sweet little 

 song trickled out on the clear air as they flew, and their happi- 

 ness and satisfaction were almost pathetic; for from the top 

 of a gum tree not far away came the wail of their arch-enemy, 

 the bronze cuckoo, waiting to put her egg in the new nest, as 

 she does every year. But the tomtits did not seem to recognise 

 the melancholy note, and went cheerfully on with their work. 

 While I stood watching the gradual furnishing of the new home, 

 I found that the cuckoo was not the only foe the tomtits had. 

 All around 'I heard the courting note of the black-caps, a low, 

 soft whistle, quite distinct from their usual harsh "cheep, 

 cheep ;" and though I knew it would soon be time to look for 



