Page:The Emu volume 9.djvu/293

 appearance is darker than that of either of the foregoing species. The most usual notes heard resemble the ordinary harsh sounds produced by the White-browed Babbler, and in calling up Bower-Birds I have often brought Babblers in their place. But the male Bower-Bird, and also, I think, the female, is a great mimic, and reproduces to perfection the notes of many surrounding birds. All the same, he seems to have a preference for harsh sounds, such as the alarm notes of the local Shrike-Thrush, Carter Honey-eater, White-browed Babbler, and the tremulous cries of young Hawks clamouring for food. I have heard a male imitate the notes of Cracticus leucopterus to perfection, and, again, a female gave a perfect rendering of those of Cracticus picatus. Certain other notes of the male were an exact imitation of the sound produced by a rabbit running over a heap of dried twigs. This was an unmistakable piece of mimicry, as the whole acacia thicket was growing on the top of a big rabbit-earth. Other sounds were like the mewing of a cat, and may have been acquired from the Red-breasted Babbler, which was breeding near at hand.

Towards the end of October the attendance at the acacia play-ground, and also at the play-ground under the mulga to the south, became less constant. I threw out all the green sandal-wood nuts from the archway at the latter, and they were not replaced. The plot was thickening, and my anxiety to find the nest grew intense.

Near this latter play-ground was a tract of open grassy country with a few beef-woods and isolated gums. It was in the shape of a bay, and was merely an extension of a much larger area of plain away to the east. On the north side of this bay was a thicket of fairly large mulga bushes, with a few casuarinas and gums. The eastern extremity of this scrub formed a narrow projection into the bay of open country. In a group of very small casuarinas I found two interesting-looking nests. One of these I decided was old; the other bore a close resemblance to the nest of the Tooth-billed Bower-Bird photographed by Mr. Sid. W. Jackson. I was watching this nest, and I always mentally referred to it as Jackson's nest. There was one feature about it I did not quite like—a small bunch of casuarina needles was suspended outside the nest and looked as though it had been removed from the lining. The play-ground was about 500 yards to the west of this nest. On 28th October I was passing the neighbourhood of this nest after a long search in a large belt of scrub to the south and on the other side of the bay, and thought I would have a look. I walked to the foot of the tree. Things appeared quite unchanged, and I did not climb up. I continued my walk, but bad hardly got clear of the casuarinas when I caught sight of a Bower-Bird in a neighbouring bush. I came to a sudden halt and watched. Presently it began to preen its feathers. This was interesting, and I began to feel a pleasurable excitement. After watching for five minutes, the bird wheeled round and flew off in the opposite direction to where the nest lay. I followed as quickly as I could, and had not gone far before a dark, thick-set bird flashed past me going towards the nest. I made a mental note of the fact, and commenced a close search in all the neighbouring bushes. All in vain. However, I was not surprised, having hunted that scrub more than once. I returned again to the foot of the tree containing Jackson's nest. There was no sign of any bird whatever. For all that I decided to climb up. Hardly had I set foot on the lowest branch before, with a great