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ALMOST HUMAN 
be completed when a necessary shower will fall and provide the moisture 
needed to convert the whole into a hot bed, and to generate the requisite 
heat to hatch out the chicks. He scratches open the top of the mound 
just before the storm breaks, in order to let the rain sink right through, 
then waits for the clouds to clear away with all the self-satisfaction of 
one who has foreseen every move in the game, as he struts around as 
pompously as possible, proclaiming: “Alone I did it!” As soon as the 
skies clear, he hastily covers over the vents again, and compels all to 
tramp down the surface flat and hard to conserve every drop of the mois- 
ture that has penetrated to the depths. This finishes the preparation 
of the warmth that is to hatch the eggs, and then the females dig many 
small burrows in towards the centre, all around the mound. These 
cavities are about eighteen inches to two feet deep. Then a single egg 
is laid in each cavity, and at once the hen covers it over. But he 
comes along and scrapes in more covering and then proceeds to firmly 
trample it down. This he will trust to no one else, for the proper 
hardening of this tiny bit is most essential to the welfare of the coming 
chick. In a day or two the weight of the egg presses down the under 
leaves perhaps two inches, but the top covering has been trodden so 
firmly into one mass that it does not sink with the egg, and retains its 
concave shape to the end of the period of incubation. By this means 
there is left a clear space of nearly two inches for the hatching chick 
to get out of the shell and to breathe until it can scratch its way through 
to the big world outside. 
When this performance is over, the work of the parents has finished. 
Thenceforth they absolutely decline to take any responsibility whatever 
for future events, and the welfare of the fledglings is no concern of 
theirs. When the chicks are hatched, they are fully fledged, and are 
about the size of a pigeon. They scratch their way through the cover- 
ing leaves, and after one quick look around the big world opening up 
before them, they make a rush for the nearest cover — a tree is always 
handy — and there they begin contentedly to grub for themselves from 
the first. They get no mothering, and apparently they need none. They 
fly up into the lower branches of the trees to roost, and take up their 
independent careers most happily. 
LOVE’S LABOR LOST. 
The first time there were brush turkeys brought to the Zoo, Mr, 
Le Souef had all the leaves from the silky oaks carefully collected, and 
under his supervision the men built a mound according to His instruct- 
tions, based upon his personal observations in Queensland. The turkey 
