20 
The Emu. 
as days go by. A nest of this species is recorded as taken here 
a couple of seasons since, and one hopes the birds may still be 
denizens of these hills. The Bronzewing now dwells afar off ; 
but one knows that not so far away, where tea-tree lines the 
shore, the cooing of the little Doves, when spring returns, 
becomes monotonous. They began some weeks ago, what time 
the Blackbirds and the English Thrushes in suburban pines 
found joy in life again, and Indian Mynas and brown Sparrows 
talked of love, and nests, and young. 
When a recent visit to Ringwood was made in company with 
one whose love for bird and bush is great as that of any man, 
the first native songster seen was a Rufous-breasted Thickhead, 
who, perched on flowering fruit tree, reserved his whistled psalm. 
But hardly was woodland entered ere " herald melodies of 
spring " were heard. A faint low call was first — too distant to 
be clear, though unmistakably a Cuckoo's voice, proclaiming that 
at least one small Bronze bird had left the northern lands to 
dwell with us again. " An invisible thing, a voice, a mystery" it 
remained, yet welcome as was ever migrant on his return to 
native land. Then nearer still it rang, a whistle with descending 
notes, soon followed by undoubted utterance of the common 
member of its clan. From valley to the west the mournful cry of 
the Pallid Cuckoo rose ; and when we paused it was to listen to 
the voices of several of the Bronze Cuckoos, and to see one 
on the top of a dead tree, from which elevation he took his part 
in a bird harmony that grew in volume, with notes that rose as 
they poured forth. His voice broke often — an undoubted crack, 
that brought the question whether he was still in adolescent 
stage, or victim of a cold. 
In the first hollow Fan-tails were about; a Pardalote emitted 
a few notes suggestive of metallic clink ; Sittellas whispered 
frequently in their own quiet way, replied to by a Graucalus 
(old melanops) in weak, sibilant voice, so inappropriate to such 
a bird. He possibly had strayed across the line, for a little to 
the north in summer days these Cuckoo Shrikes have gather- 
ings of their own on hillside slope and sheltered dell. Within 
this paddock Orioles long had summered, and were now at 
home. With Lowell one could say — 
" Hush : lis he ! 
My oriole, my glance of summer fire 
Is come at last." 
From which tree-top their babbling melody first came could not 
be told ; its utterers were unseen ; but that it came was proof 
of spring's return as positive as hardenbergia's purple wreaths 
or tetratheca bloom, or as the warm north wind or sun's increas- 
ing power. Though fitting pendent boughs were there, no sign 
of nest appeared ; indeed, throughout the day the evidence grew 
stronger that only singing, and not nesting, time had come. 
What honour among small birds can be — or was it chivalry, 
