2 
decayed tranks of frees torn as if splintered by 
an axe by these birds in their search for food, 
while the fallen branches and dead leaves in 
more exposed parts of the mountain side were 
tossed about and piled as if hay-makers had 
been at work. 
I am not certain how far it ranges to the 
westward of Melbourne, but I found it in the 
lofty ranges of the Plenty, about 25 miles from 
Melbourne ; it abounds in the dense cedar 
brushes of the Liverpool range, and, according 
to Dr. Bennett, the mountains of the Tumut 
country are among the places of which it is the 
denizen. I believe that it is not found within 
the colony of Queensland, nor in the colonies of 
South and West Australia. 
Early in the month of September, some 
years ago, having slept the previous night at 
a farm hut in the mountains of Illawarra, I 
started before sunrise for the home of the 
Menura ; it was a fine clear moonlight morning, 
and being familiar with the features of the 
country, I knew that I should be among the 
higher gullies when the sun rose, in time in 
fact, to place myself in ambush before the lyre 
bird commenced his morning song. I had 
never seen one alive— never hunted one before : 
but I was quite aware of their extreme shyness, 
and of the great importance of moving without 
a sound— an accomplishment only gained by 
practice, but essential to scrub shooting, for ail 
is still in the dark recesses where the Menura 
has his home. You hear at times of early 
morning the note of the Satin bird from the 
vines, the King parrot calls plaintively at inter- 
vals from over head, or a flight of screaming 
Cockatoos pass by, making for water, but the 
crackling of a twig, the chance displacement of 
a stone, or the rustle of a bush, sound loudly in 
the general hush ; farewell, when this happens, 
to your morning chance. The day was just 
breaking, and I had left the cedar cutter’s 
half obliterated track, and was hanging by a 
vine to the face of a cliff looking down on a sea 
of cabbage palms, tree ferns, vines, and climbers 
of endless variety, and watching for the appear- 
ance of the sun from beneath the far off horizon 
of the still ocean beyond, when just as his first 
rays fell upon the rocks around me, I heard 
what I supposed to be the rich, clear, bold note 
of the Satin bird : anxious to procure a good 
specimen, I for the moment, forget the special 
object of my chase and cautiously climbed the 
cliff, again tbe call was repeated, but was imme- 
diately followed by the voice of the white 
cockatoo — then the mocking powers of the 
Menura were remembered, and X stood rivetted to 
the spot, proceed I could not, for having swung 
myself to the top of the cliff, I found a plat- 
form of broken rocks, about an acre, without a 
particle of cover, and in the centre a few huge 
trees, and a mass of tangled vines, the growth 
of centuries, from which the sounds proceeded. 
I crawled like a cat, and with like stillness, but 
without success. Cheered by finding myself in 
the vicinity of my game, I proceeded cautiously 
along the mountain, and in a little while caught 
the note of the bird far off. With great toil 
and patience, I got within gun shot, but so 
dense was the cover, I could see nothing beyond 
my gun : fearing I should lose my chance, I 
determined to advance, and in half a dozen 
paces, found myself almost within pistol shot of 
a male bird, a female, and a half-grown young 
one. Of the male, I got but a glance, with a 
note of alarm, and one or two wonderful bounds 
he was in a second or tvso half way down J;he 
mountain. The young bird screeching ran 
into a hole in the rocks, where I caught it, and 
the mother then attracted by its cries of dis- 
tress rushed to my feet, and was shot. The 
thought then struck me that, if I fastened the 
young bird to the ground, and hid myself in 
the fern, that its cries might draw tlie male 
to its assistance. I did so. Its call was in- 
cessant, and at the expiration of half an hour 
I saw, not the male, hut a female steal 
cautiously out from the fern not five yards 
from me. I remained as silent as the rocks 
around me for several seconds. The pheasant 
did not move, but kept staring at the fettered 
young one, when, slightly moving my gun 
which I had brought to my shoulder, she saw 
me, and vanished. Once more during the day 
I got within five or six yards of a cock; but 
so dense were the stems of the brushwood that 
I could not find the slightest opening to give 
me a chance. I could make out something 
moving as behind a close blind, but nothing 
more. I fired, but although /so near, the torn 
bark of the brushwood was the only result. 
The young bird I had left behind me, and 
picked it up on my way home. I fed it with 
every care, but it died in four or five days. 
About a week afterwards I again found 
myself in the mountains. I , had shot a white 
necked fruit pigeon ( Carpophaga leucomela ), 
and it had fallen at least 200 feet down into a 
gulley grown over with vines. Having secured 
it, and reloaded, I was ^in the act of climbing 
the hill when, under the bushwood within 
gun-shot, I saw a hen pheasant feeding. I 
leant forward to fire, against a pile of dead 
wood, when a violent screech came from the 
interior. To any great delight I found the 
pile of dead sticks to be the nest of the Lyre 
bird. In it was a young one, two thirds of 
the size of the female, quite fledged ; but 
wanting tbe handsome tail. The hen at the 
cry of distress of the young bird started forward, 
but was killed at the instant. The nest was on 
the ground, at the foot of an old tree, and partly' 
in a recess in the trunk ; it was domed and 
lined with fine fibres and very thin vines, but 
no feathers — about the size of a tea chest. 
It is impossible to give an idea of the great 
dtfliculty of obtaining this bird i. e. by the 
amateur sportsmen. Apart from its extreme 
shyness it is incessantly on the move — perhaps 
after hours of patient following the note of 
the bird (for you do not see it except to kill 
or lose it), over rocks and fallen timber, through 
all but impenetrable masses of vines and thorns 
holding you fast at every step ; now up the 
wall like face of the mountain, and now back 
on your track, five or six hundred feet precipi- 
