An Australian 
Wonder. 
(54) THE BIRD WORLD. 
pittosporum, native hazel, blackwood, 
and other acacias; and, third, towering 
over all, gigantic eucalypts. Under the 
shade of this leafy wilderness is the true 
home of the Menura, or Lyre Bird. I 
found the birds comparatively undis¬ 
turbed and numerous. Nevertheless, I 
experienced much difficulty and ex¬ 
pended much patience in procuring 
specimens, so terribly shy were they. I 
leisurely ascended a gully or patrolled a 
recent survey line till I heard a bird 
singing a little distance off in the scruo. 
Then I commenced very carefully—for 
at a false move, an extra shuffle of the 
leaves, or the snapping of a twig, your 
prey disappears as if by magic—to crawl 
on my hands and knees, and often 
wriggling snake fashion on my stomach, 
through ferns and scrub, from tree to 
tree. 
Its Tower to Detect Danger. 
The bird ceases singing, as if know¬ 
ing intuitively that danger is near. I 
stop, too, and pose like a stump. 1 
dare not move a muscle, although I feel 
land leeches attacking my ankles and a 
large forest mosquito stinging the tip of 
my nose. Presently the bird com¬ 
mences whistling as joyfully as ever. 
On I creep, every yard nearer, and with 
the excitement of my heart quickens its 
beat. It throbs so loudly that I fear the 
bird will hear. The exertion in moist, 
thundery weather bathes me with per¬ 
spiration; great beads roll off my fore¬ 
head and patter down on the dried leaves. 
Affairs are now desperate, for at last I 
am within shooting range, and am peer¬ 
ing through the ferns with gun uplifted 
and finger trembling upon the trigger. 
Alas! the bird discovers me first, and 
is off noiselessly and unperceived. I 
reluctantly retrace my steps to the track. 
This operation is repeated five or six 
times before I have even the slightest 
possible chance of shooting a male bird 
Females are not difficult to bag, for they 
frequently leap into the trees overhead 
to survey me. 
A Good Mimic. 
After a week I obtain as many speci¬ 
mens of both sexes as I need, besides 
getting glimpses of the birds at home. 
Each male appears to own a little j 
hillock, or mound of earth, which he 
scrapes up with his lengthened claws, 
and upon which he promenades, whilst 
displaying his beautiful tail by bending 
forward and shaking the appendage over '> 
his back, all the time making the gully or 
forest resound with melodious whistling, 
interspersed with curious noises, or 
with mimic songs and the calls of other , 
birds, large and small. Its ear is so 
accurate that it can imitate to the very 
semitone any of its forest friends, 
whether the solemn “ mo-poke ” of the 
Owl, the laughter-like notes of the 
great brown Kingfisher or Jackass, or 
the high-pitched or subdued notes of 
small fry. The most extraordinary per¬ 
formance of all is the imitating, not of 
a single bird, but of a flock. I have 
heard it cleverly imitate the simultaneous 
voices of a flock of Pennant’s Parrakeets 
rising from tf;e scrub. The Lyre Bird 
is equally at home mimicking the grunt¬ 
ing of the koala, or so-called native 
bear, the barking of a dog, the noise of 
the splitter’s saw, etc. A tramp once 
turned off the track to borrow some 
matches from a selector, whom he sup¬ 
posed he heard sawing in the scrub. He 
found he had been duped by a Lyre 
Bird. 
The Roosting Place. 
Some persons suppose that Lyre 
Birds roost in a sheltered spot near the 
ground. My observations are to the 
contrary. I have watched them about 
dusk, till I almost lost their form, fly 
more than a hundred feet up amongst 
the thick branches of some forest 
patriarch. The birds ascend by a suc¬ 
cession of leaps, or short flights, from 
bough to bough, or from tree to tree, 
always surveying the position after each 
move. Sometimes during moonlight 
seasons a cock bird from his elevated 
perch agreeably disturbs the midnight 
stillness with his delightful loud whistle. 
The powerful Owl has been known to 
take Lyre Birds off their roost. 
(To be continued .) 
