A NEST-BUILDING PISH. 



chased and driven on, like a runaway dnj^, by many of the others as he 

 passed over or near their territory. Yon can often keep him in view 

 the whole way back. On these occasions ho rarely stays to fight 

 much except to make passage. 



As soon as the home is ready he waits near, trimming it with his 

 snout, until a lady visitor of a sad green shade, but withal sublimely 

 portly, approaches. Then his vivacity is increased. He shoots back 

 dodging round her. and gets her between himself and the nest, 

 pushing and bunting at her with his lip, down towards an opening he 

 has left at the base of the nest, through which she glides into it. 

 While there he seems in a quiver of delight, but presently he butts at 

 the opening she enters by, where her tail may be seen protruding, and 

 startles her out, lightened, through generally the other side, where a 

 similar opening appears to be left. This seems to be the whole of the 

 lady's direct responsibilities and duties. I say seems so, but it is 

 conceivable that if we could divine her ruminations she might possibly 

 be claiming for her work that it was more vital and honourable than 

 her mate's, and that his work was but the materialistic. 



The two openings at the base he now proceeds to close with weeds 

 ■ and by dragging the fibres of the nest together, leaving only the small 

 hole at the top open, over which he diligently works at the vibratory 

 action. This is now varied frequently at intervals of a few minutes 

 by his curving his body round about and over the nest, first in one 

 direction, then the reverse, suggesting the action of a cat pushing against 

 one's legs when purring. The hatching is evidently helped by the 

 sun striking into the shallow water, as I have noticed that tue time is 

 always retarded by a few days in chilly weather. I have never 

 observed them building in water much over two feet deep. Sometimes 

 they build veiy near the edge, and in very hot weather, as the pool 

 lowers by evaporation, the nest becomes exposed. The pertinacity 

 then with which they will continue fanning as the water recedes, with 

 their bodies half out of the water, just turning back for a time for 

 breath as it were, is, I may say, painful to see. 



A good strong nest contains about a teaspoonful — from 200 or so of 

 eggs — each about the size of a mustard seed. By the time — about four- 

 teen days in hot weather — when they begin to hatch out, the flow of the 

 water, caused by the fanning, seems to loosen the texture of the nest, 

 and as the young emerge from the egg the anxiety of the mid-husband 

 (I can't call him mid-wife) begins, and his watchfulness and attention 

 increase until it reminds one of a panting coUey dog on the skirts of 

 a flock of sheep keeping them together. As they escape from the shell, 

 he sucks or gulps the shell into his mouth, as he does other waste 

 materials, carries it a few inches and blows it out to float away. 



The young fry at first keep well together, circling about in the 

 opening of the nest, but as they grow stronger they venture into the 

 water around, where they are liable to be snapped up by the full 

 grown of their own kind who are passing near. Now it is amusing 



