SOME AUSTRALIAN BIRDS.—II
THE laughing-jackass, though less frequently seen than of yore, is distributed over the greater part of Australia. His squat, dumpy figure is now familiar to most people in the form of an Australian emblem, sharing a place on tea-spoon handles and the like with the kan- garoo, the emu, the wattle-blossom and the waratah ; but his throaty and infectious chuckle is the weirdest bird music in the world and is worth going far to hear. It is a somewhat uncanny truth that his laugh is always heard at its loudest when some misfortune has overtaken one, such as a fall from a horse, a blow from an overhanging bough, or the inability to find one's way out of some tangled thicket of scrub. Then the jackass laughs long and loudly and in a pointed and personal manner cal- culated to awaken fury in the victim.
The bell-bird, on the other hand, is really musical. Down in the river timber one hears his tinkling note, sometimes deceptively like the jingle of the horsebells for which one may be anxiously listening. He is an elusive bird, so seldom seen as to be to most, like the cuckoo of the poet, " but a wandering voice."
Zebra finches, which one often sees in cages in England, are small birds about the size of sparrows, quaintly marked with zebra-like stripes. One sees them in cheerful family parties flitting along the wires of the sheep fences. They are happy, sprightly little birds and give a sense of companionship to many a lonely ride. - The nearest approach to a bona-fide song-bird in the Bush is the magpie, a black and white bird not unlike our own British specimen. In the .early mornings, when the min is just creeping over the edge of the sandhill, one hears his musical chortling round the homestead. The bushman is rather proud of him as a singer, but his range of notes is limited, and though he is a cheery and enthu- siastic chorister, he falls far short of the thrush and black- bird of our English lawns.
There are several different kinds of pigeons and doves in the Bush—mostly small, silent creatures which flit like shadows about the edges of the darker scrubs. The bronze-wing pigeon, however, is a plump good-sized bird much sought after for its edible properties. It has a swift flight and is extremely shy. Therefore, it is much prized by the sportsman when a trophy of his gun.
The Australian bird most desirable from a culinary point of view is the bustard, or wild turkey, which is fairly plentiful on the great inland plains, but so shy and difficult to approach that to secure him is a feat of 'con- siderable skill and patience. One sees the long, snake-like necks and alert heads peeping above the girth-high barley grass, and the only way to approach within gun- shot is to ride a horse or drive a wagonette in slowly con- tracting circles around the wary flock. Once within' shot without disturbing the quarry the rest is easy, for the turkeys are slow and lumbering in flight and are a big mark in the air. Few thrills in life are so fully satisfying as that of -bringing down one of these great heavy birds after a long and successful stalk. The man who brings hoine a fat wild turkey to the cook is looked upon as 'a public benefactor. Of wild duck the Bush has more than its fair share. All through the back country in flood time, and along the' western rivers in any season, may be found huge flocks of black duck, wood duck and teal. The swamps of South Australia and the great lagoons and billabongs of Victoria, ' New South Wales and Queensland are covered with them ; while black swans, mountain duck, cranes and ibises are to be found in limitless numbers in certain districts. There is no finer sport in the world than shooting duck on the swamps. Guns are placed at various points of vantage, and for hours the wild duck when disturbed circle round and round the margin of the water, presenting every variety of difficult and easy shot to the waiting gunner. All the well-known varieties are most excellent eating and are a welcome change from the everlasting ' mutton and damper of the Bush cuisine.
No account of Australian birds would be complete without some reference to the ubiquitous crow. This un- lovely scavenger of the Bush is everywhere. No sooner is a sheep bogged in some half-dried pool, no sooner does an exhausted bullock drop in the wagon-chains or a tired man lie down in the shade of a wilga tree, than this black- coated ghoul arrives from nowhere in particular to perch on a dead branch near by and gloat over the prospects of a feast. The hate of the bushman for a crow is one of the most terrible hatreds in life. No cruelty or torture is con- sidered too horrible to inflict upon this enemy of all society —human and animal. One has even heard of captured crows being plucked alive and turned loose to be destroyed by their furious comrades. Anyone who has seen poor little lambs walking about the sandhills with eye-sockets empty and blood-stained does not waste much pity on the crow.
To the eagle-hawk, also a scavenger and carrion-eater, the bushman is more kindly disposed for some reason. This bird, with his great size and immense spread of wing, is akin to the eagle and has something noble about him. Also he is rarer and makes less open confession of his' nefarious trade. He is very shy and is somewhat of a prize when he does fall to some watchful gun.
Space prevents more than passing mention of some other well-known Australian birds, such as the minahs, which are always found in groups of twelve, and are knoWn as the Twelve Apostles ; the " shepherd's companion," a tiny bird of the wagtail species, which may be heard' chirping an hour before the dawn and is supposed_to take upon himself the duty of waking the stockman from his slumbers ; the mopoke, with his weird midnight cry ; and the lyre-bird of the mountain districts, well-known to the naturalist through his original methods of nest- building.
It will be seen that, though Australia produces no song- birds in the accepted sense of the word, her great plains and sandhills and far-reaching scrubs do supply a fea- thered population of considerable interest, and that the up-country man may find in his long, lonely rides a silent, or almost silent, companionship, which means much to him, provided by the shy, bright-coloured birds that are a part of the blue sky and the dazzling sunlight.
WILL H. OGILVIE.
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