Birds. 8315 



When first brought to me, having no idea there was any egg of that 

 colour and character, I thought it the most wonderful natural production 

 I had ever seen. It was very heavy, of a perfectly symmetrical form, 

 dark green in colour, slightly fretted or shagreened, and looking more 

 like a mass of polished malachite than any organized product. The 

 beauty of the shell was displayed in the late International Exhibition, 

 where the emeu's egg might be seen made up into ornamental drinking- 

 cups, mounted in silver, of a variety of patterns, in the Australian 

 department. 



I communicated directly with the Zoological Gardens, and was duly 

 informed that the egg was a perfectly normal one, that I might expect 

 a batch of from ten to fourteen, at intervals of about three days each, 

 and that in due course, if things went on favourably, the male bird 

 would collect the eggs together in a rude sort of nest, would sit inde- 

 fatigably for the long period of eight weeks, and would wholly take 

 the charge of, tend and bring up the young ones when hatched. 



My second egg was not laid till the ninth day, and then I was 

 presented with one every third day regularly, up to the thirteenth 

 egg, which took four days in making its appearance, and was the 

 largest and heaviest of the batch, weighing 1 lb. 5j oz. They had 

 steadily increased in size and weight from the first. After the deposit 

 of the second outside the house, being still cold weather, and anxious 

 to secure their vitality, I replaced each egg by imitation ones I had 

 made and painted, and succeeded in inducing the process to take 

 place while the birds were within the house at night. As the number 

 increased, the two first real eggs were put back, in order to run as 

 little risk as possible of dissatisfying the bird, and subsequently they 

 were left as laid. They all underwent the process of arrangement and 

 re-arrangement with every addition. One morning 1 found one of the 

 birds busily engaged in shifting the eggs in the usual manner with its 

 beak, and suspicion of its intentions being excited, I watched it till it 

 succeeded in rolling one out of the house. I replaced it. The same 

 thing was repeated the following morning. As there was a fall of snow 

 of several inches, " This won't do," says I to myself, for fear of 

 breakage, and I set my thoughts to work to interpret the meaning. 

 I came to the conclusion that it was a certain indication the bird 

 would not sit in that house, but was in search of some other place. 

 By observing narrowly I noticed a partiality to one particular and 

 moderately sheltered corner of the open ground, not very far off. I 

 immediately had four poles erected, and an awning put over a sufficient 

 space. Under this was scooped out a slight hollow, a layer of sand 



