74 THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST. 



is reluctant to follow suit. But they are compelled to clear too 

 when we shoot the nose of our boat into the rushes amongst their 

 crowded nests. There is no error about our situation, judging 

 from the pronounced ammoniacal small that arrests our senses. 

 However, the nests are picturesquely grouped on irregular steps 

 or terraces formed by the tops of the rushes being spHt or frayed 

 out, then matted together into platforms to within a few inches of 

 the water. A shallow hollow in the compounded rushes suffices 

 for a nest, which is further augmented by flags, grasses, and, in 

 some instances, eucalypt branchlets. The nests measure 12 to i8 

 inches across and contain clutches of somewhat granulated 

 whitish coloured eggs. Hastily looking at those nearest us we 

 see a nest with 5, another with 4, four with 3 each, and 

 another with 7 (probably two clutches, judging by the stale, dirty 

 appearance of some of the eggs). A proper complement is 

 evidently 4 eggs, a typical set, measuring in inches — (i) 2j^ x 

 12.^3, (2) zq.j X i^, (3) 2tV X i)^;, and (4) 2>^ x i^^. 



Out of the scores of nests only a few are occupied by young — 

 helpless, not many days old, with heads black and the pinkish 

 skin of the rest of their bodies showing strongly through a 

 moderate coating of white down. 



The water here is about 4 or 5 feet deep, the patch of rushes 

 being about half an acre in extent. The birds have trampled 

 down the north and west margins for their rookery, leaving the 

 greater portion of the tall rushes standing, which appear to afford 

 an excellent protection as a breakwind. 



Darkness now creeps over the water, and mosquitoes become 

 very insinuating. Coots defiantly screech at us from out the 

 reeds, but the sweet alarm notes of a flock of passing Plovers, 

 the trumpeting of Cranes or Native Companions in the distance, 

 together with the booming bass of Bitterns at various points of 

 the vast swamp, are charming music in our ears. Carefully now 

 we move, and peering through the gloom, steer for the higher 

 end of the swamp, where fortunately we easily strike the river 

 and swiftly glide down with the running current of a broad 

 stream for about a mile towards home. In the darkness, dark 

 dumb regiments of red-gum trees silently pass, which exceedingly 

 magnify the breadth of the river, especially in the gloomier 

 bends and corners. 



Home safely reached terminates the exploits of an extraordinary 

 evening, 



[Note. — Since writing the above I have received from Mr. 

 A.J. North, F.L.S., the "Records of the Australian Museum" 

 for March, wherein he redescribes the eggs of the White Ibis, 

 and also embodies a very interesting account of a visit by Mr. 

 K. H. Bennet to an Ibis rookery situated near the Lachlan River, 

 New South Wales.] 



