I 
tously down — now over prostrate trees' piled 
one on another, green with slime and moss, 
dripping with moisture, shrouded in gloom by 
giant fern trees of forty feet in height, whose 
feathery tops shut out the glaring sunlight, 
which penetrates everywhere else, you find 
yourself within gunshot, but can see 
nothing, for the bn-d after imitating every 
note in the bush, which it does in a matchless 
manner, varied at times, I am told, by sharpen- 
ing a cross-cut saw, and howling like a dingo, 
will suddenly spring on to a large fallen tree — 
that is your chance, but you must be quickness 
and decision itself, for he does not remain a 
second without sighting you, and then vanishes 
like a shadow. On one occasion I had tracked 
a male bird for nearly a mile by his song, 
pausing when he ceased, and again advancing 
when he recommenced his performance j he 
was running rapidly along when, of a sud- 
den, he sprang on to a fallen tree. I 
fired at the instant without success, but as I 
lowered my gun with the despair known only 
to the desr-staiker and the chamois hunter 
after a fruitless shot, a voice came from the 
brush — “ Killed ? have you killed ?” My un- 
known companion had been stalking the same 
bird for upwards of an hour without my having 
the slightest idea of his vicinity, nor he of 
mine, so noiselessly had we sped along. Shy as 
the bird is, there have been occasions when I 
have come suddenly upon them — when, with- 
out a gun, at some angle of the road, and then 
they have eyed me as carelessly as barn-door 
fowls. 
The tail of the male is about three to four 
feet long ; but the Rev. J. Gr. Wood gives it at 
ten feet ; it consists of sixteen feathers, the 
two outer being broadly webbed, and from 
their peculiar shape, giving the name 
to the bird ; the two central are nar- 
rowly webbed, and the remainder have 
long slender shafts bearded by alternate feathery 
filaments. The female has not the ,,Lyre t tail 
so fully developed as the male, but I have ^sliot 
old females that have had the Lyre feathers. 
The bird very seldom takes wing, once and 
that only I saw a male bird fly, I had wounded 
it, and rushing forward to secure my fancied 
prize, it rose and flew screeching over my head, 
and into cover about fifty yards. They have a 
singular habit of scratching circular spots in 
their haunts, as playing grounds, and go 
through a variety of antics thereon, imitating 
the notes of all the birds around. 
Lately a live adult lias been obtained by the 
Acclimatization Society of New South Wales, 
It will be a matter of great interest, to ascertain 
what success attends the keeping in confinement 
of this wild bird of the mountain, to whom 
unlimited freedom would appear to be essential 
to its existence. 
IL R AWNS LEY. 
Witton, 1st August, 18G3. 
