Vo »i 924 IV ] NICHOLLS, A Trip to Central Australia. 55 
distance, i.e., the distance between the isolated clumps of spinifex 
or cotton-bush which alone afford shelter and protection. 
The Pallid Honeyeater (M dip hag a penicillata leilavelensis) .— 
'phis pale-coloured Honeyeater we saw along the dry creeks, 
amongst the Coolibahs and Acacias, associated with Yellow- 
throated Miners and “Whistling” Pigeons (Ocyphaps lophotes ) 
It had the note and actions of our ordinary Southern “Greenie,” 
and was one of the commonest of birds on the dry creeks where 
the timber grew. At Mungeranie it frequented the homestead 
(where there was always a supply of water), building their dainty 
swinging nests.in the long pendulous branches of the Persian 
tamarisks. . 
Yellow-throated Miners ( Myzantha flavigula) were to be met 
with in pairs or small flocks along the boxtree-lined dry creeks 
of the interior. When flushed they uttered the squeaky alarm 
note of the southern bird (Noisy Miner), but they also had a 
delightful little song, especially in the nesting season. In the 
early morning their song was the most tuneful of all the birds 
about Mungeranie. 
At the station they came to be fed three or four times a 
day, and one could stand within three feet of the feeding birds, 
and* watch the rapid action of their brush tongues as they licked 
the plum jam from the sawn-off end of the branch of a tamarisk. 
This particular pair started to collect nesting material before 
we left, and probably built in the adjacent bamboos of the com¬ 
pound. The larger of the two birds, the male, was wilder, and 
picked at the smaller of the birds (the female) whilst both were 
feeding together; the male was also a little darker. To watch 
these birds feeding from a distance of three feet was a revelation 
of the degree of trustfulness that wild birds of the bush show 
when properly protected. Their note was full of melody, and 
as round as bell—in striking contrast to the garrulous noisy 
call of the southern form. The yellow patch over the eye and 
the lighter lemon yellow in the sides of the neck were visible 
to the naked eye only at a distance of four or five feet. The 
yellowish markings on the wings shone in the sun, in striking 
contrast to the light grey colouring of the rest of the body. 
The water-hole on the Derwent River at Mungeranie supported 
a small flock of ten Black-tailed Native Hens (Tribonyx veil- 
trails'). In the early morning they came to the water-hole, paddled 
about along the edge, and when one approached too closely ran 
back to the shelter of the “cane grass” (Spinifex) of the sand¬ 
hills, where they passed the night. One wondered how they 
managed to live in such dry country. They were curious looking 
birds, sometimes feeding along the water’s edge, but for the 
most of the day spending their time grouped around the roots of 
a particular Coolibah close to the water, apparently asleep or 
resting. Their short jerky walk and bantam-like appearance 
made them look almost domesticated. Like all the other desert 
