268 THE WEEN. 



slightest disturbance they dart off with surprising swiftness through the brakes, carrying 

 their tail horizontally ; but this aj)pears to be for facilitating their passage through the 

 bushes, for when they leap or spring from branch to branch as they ascend or descend 

 a tree, the tail approaches to the periDcndicular. On watching them from an elevated 

 position, playing in a gully below, they are seen to form little hillocks or mounds, by 

 scratching up the ground around them, trampling and running flightily about, uttering 

 their loud shrill calls, and imitating the notes of various birds." 



The nest of the Lyre-bird is a large, loosely-built, domed structure, composed of small 

 sticks, roots and leaves, and of an oven-like shape, the entrance being in front. The lining 

 is warm and soft, being composed of downy feathers. 



The egg of this singular bird is quite as curious as its general form, and presents the 

 curious anomaly of an egg as large as that of a common fowl, possessing all the charac- 

 teristics of the insessorial egg. The general colour of the egg is a deep chocolate tint, 

 marked with purple more or less deep in different specimens, and its surface is covered 

 with a number of stains and blotches of a darker hue, which are gathered towards the 

 larger end, as is usual in spotted eggs. 



Anothee species of Lyre-bird has been discovered, which is called Albeet's Lyee- 

 BiED (Menura Alherti), in compliment to the Prince Consort. This species may be known 

 by the comparative shortness of the lyre-shaped tail-feathers, and the absence of dark bars 

 upon the web. 



Dr. Stephenson, in sj)eaking of this bird, says : " The locality it frequents consists of 

 mountain ridges, not very densely covered with brush ; it passes most of its time on the 

 ground, feeding and strutting about with the tail reflected over the back to within an inch 

 or two of the head, and with the wings drooping on the ground. Each bird forms for itself 

 three or four ' corroboring places,' as the sawyers call them ; they consist of holes scratched 

 in the sandy ground, about two and a half feet in diameter, by sixteen, eighteen, or twenty 

 inches in depth, and about three or four hundred yards apart, or even more. 



AVhenever you get sight of the bird, which can only be done with the greatest caution 

 and by taking advantage of intervening objects to shelter yourself from its observation, 

 you will find it in one or other of these holes, into which it frequently jumps and seems to 

 be feeding ; then ascends again and struts round and round the place, imitating with its 

 powerful musical voice any bird that it may chance to hear around it. The notes of the 

 Dacelo gigantea, or langhing jackass, it imitates to perfection ; its own whistle is exceed- 

 ingly beautiful and varied. No sooner does it perceive an intruder, than it flies up into 

 the nearest tree, first alighting on the basement branches, and then ascending by a succes- 

 sion of jumps until it reaches the top, when it instantly darts off to another of its 

 playgrounds. 



The stomachs of those I dissected invariably contained insects, with scarcely a trace of 

 any other material. Now, collectors of insects know that gravel-pits and sandy holes 

 afford them great treats, and it appears to me that one, if not the principal use of the 

 excavations made by this bird, is to act as a trap for unwary coleopteras and other insects, 

 which falling in, cannot be again rescued, and are therefore easily secured." 



The nest of Albert's Lyre-bird is like that of the preceding species in general shape, 

 but is almost wholly composed of long and slender twigs, and presents a most curious 

 appearance. Specimens of this structure may be seen in the British Museum. The nest 

 resembles nothing so much as a large round mass of loose sticks, into which some giant 

 had thrust his foot and left the impression of his shoe. The hollow of the nest is, in fact, 

 a kind of cave on a small scale, domed over by the sticks as they lie crossing each other in 

 all directions. 



We are all familiar with the Ween, " the king of all birds," as he is termed in ancient 

 rhyme, his title to royalty resting on his defeat of the eagle in upward flight. The story 

 runs that the birds assembled to choose a king, and that the election should fall on the 

 bird who soared the highest. Up sprang all the birds into the sky, but highest of all 

 towered the eagle, who, after mounting until his wearied wings could beat no more, 



