40 



Chisholm, Three Species of the Pachycephalince. [,st "ju 



White points out,* about the Murray River sand-hills when the 

 R.A.O.U. party visited that locality in November-December, 

 1914. The birds were timid, but a specimen was procured through 

 calling one up. No nests were found there, however, though 

 probably the birds were breeding at the time. 



My acquaintance with the Gilbert Whistler " at home " dates 

 back to 2nd October, 1912. On that day I was cycling slowly 

 along an old bush road in the Maryborough district when I saw 

 the large, bright eye of a bird peering over the rim of a nest placed 

 on a bush-covered tree-stump about 3 feet in height. It suggested 

 the Grey Thrush {Colluricincla harmonica), but a closer inspection 

 showed that the bird's bill was smaller than that of the Thrush. 

 When it was flushed from the nest the identity of the stranger 

 became apparent. The nest was finely built, chiefly of grass, 

 most compactly and neatly matted into a round wall. The 

 eggs suggested those of the Yellow-breasted Whistler, but were 

 slightly larger. While I was examining the nest the male bird 

 appeared, uttering a low, plaintive whistle somewhat resembling 

 the alarm note of Cinclosoma. For a little while the pair kept 

 flitting anxiously about, each emitting an exceedingly sweet call, 

 sounding as " Wee-e-e-woo " — the last note lower. A number of 

 other notes resembled some used by P. rufiventris, the whip-like 

 crack being even stronger. It was preceded and followed, too, 

 by a soft, sweet note that sounded like an echo of the crack coming 

 from far away. On my next visit (7th October) the male bird 

 was in charge of the eggs. (Is this division of duty a trait of the 

 genus ?) Two days later the female sat on the nest, and was 

 much bolder, the' reason being that one young bird had just 

 emerged from its shell. During the next three days the solitary 

 chick — the second egg proved infertile — thrived ; but on 15th 

 October there was an empty nest and wailing parents. Ten days 

 later the nest was wholly removed, presumably by the birds. 



After that I saw little of the Whistlers till September, 1913. 

 On the 14th of that month I heard a pair calling about the same 

 locality, and, on the 26th, found the nest. It was built neatly 

 on the top of an old Babblers' nest, placed about 7 feet up in a 

 bushy saphng. The female fluttered off as I approached, and 

 hopped about the grormd " flufling " (not dragging) her feathers, 

 in exactly the manner that Eopsaltria often adopts to draw away 

 an intruder. (This pretty performance is distinct from the 

 broken-wing ruse used by Ptilotis atiricomis, Ephthianura albifrons, 

 and one or two other species.) There were two eggs in the nest; 

 on 28th September these had disappeared, presumably having 

 been stolen by boys, and the site was deserted. Evidently the 

 Whistlers do not take long to build a nest, for on 6th October I 

 found the same birds at a nest on a bushy stump less than 

 100 yards from the position of the Babblers' nest. The new 

 nursery contained two beautiful eggs. I was able to photograph 



* Emu, vol. xiii., p. 126. 



