105 
The Queensland Naturalist. 
Nov., 1928 
and it can be imagined that it is no easy task for these 
birds to look np their quarters. Having found it there is 
no rest; some are scratching, others are fighting; all the 
birds are continually moving about and making weird 
noises, not actually imitating, but able to make all kinds 
of noises including cries like children, which gets on one’s 
nerves, and you feel as if you would like to curse these birds, 
especially when you are obliged to pitch camp near them. 
Annoying as their noises may be, still there is something 
that instils love in you towards the Mutton bird. Their 
extreme tameness is marvellous; you may catch the birds 
quite easily if you wish, whether it is dark in your tent or 
whether a lantern is burning, the birds keep coming in 
and marching up and down. This goes on all the night 
till half -past three or four in the morning, when the whole 
flock of them start out for sea. In coming home at night 
they take their time, but in the morning there is a great 
hurry, and it can be imagined if many hundred thousands 
are making their way to the beach from all over the inner 
parts of the island, regular walks of about three feet wide 
nre made by the birds, which act as outlets, and for half 
an hour these tracks, which number at least one hundred, 
are a busy scene, many get trampled on in this great 
rush to the sea. After 4 o’clock in the morning there is 
peace again on the island, and if the tourist is overtired 
he may enjoy a few hours sleep. This bird is rightly 
called the “Mystery Bird.” They seem to have no sleep 
during the night and spend the day on the wing, 
returning home late to renew their activities on land for 
the coming night. Comparatively little is known of the 
habits of the Mutton bird. The young ones when hatched 
are given a feed of oil by the parents, and stay in the 
ground until ready to fly, when on a certain night every 
young bird will come out of its burrow and collectively 
they fly away, but where to, no one knows. The young 
bird has never before seen daylight, and certainly has 
not tried its wings, it did not in anyway provide itself 
with food, but just existed on the oil the parents gave 
it, yet it is able to fly to distant lands and look after 
itself. 
On North-West Island a turtle industry is in opera- 
tion. The canning factory where turtle soup is made, 
and other by-products is only small, nevertheless quite 
up-to-date. The turtle season only lasts three to four 
months of the year, perhaps just as well from a natural- 
ist’s point of view, for it can quite easily be imagined 
what would happen if a reckless and wholesale slaughter- 
