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upper wing-covers these spots increase in size, and merge into
narrow stripes on the outer webs of the secondary quills; the under
side is greyish black, adorned with large round spots; the quills are
brownish, streaked with white on the outer, and irregularly dotted
and marked on the inner web; the dark grey tail-feathers are
beautifully spotted, and those at the exterior partially striped. The
broad lappets and comb are red, the eye is dark brown, the region
of the cheek and the crest blueish white, the beak reddish horn-grey,
the foot dull grey, and the toes flesh-colour. When tamed and
reared, this species produces a race of much larger birds; these have
the plumage very variously marked, and occasionally are entirely of
a whitish or reddish hue.

THE MITRED PINTADO.

The MITRED PINTADO (Numida mitrata) has the horn-like excrescence
on the head much developed, and the chin-lappets narrow and long.
The pale black plumage is spotted with white; the feathers on the
nape and throat are striped with greyish white, the secondary quills
have the outer web partially streaked with white. The eye is greyish
brown; the upper part of the head and base of the beak are bright
red, a crescent-shaped patch behind the eye, the hinder part of the
neck, and the throat are greenish blue, shaded with dark blue; the
fleshy lappets are violet at the base and bright red at the tip; the
comb or horn is pale yellow, the beak greyish yellow, and the foot
blackish blue. This species is twenty-two inches long, the wing
measures ten and the tail seven inches. The Mitred Pintado is found,
though not abundantly, in Madagascar and Guinea, but is common in
Mozambique and in Abyssinia. We learn from Layard that its habitat
extends over the whole of the frontier district, into Ovampolando on
the west, and to the Mozambique on the east, and that it is still
abundant in some places within the colony, where the mimosa bush
affords it sufficient shelter. It feeds on grain and insects, and lays
from seven to ten eggs, rather sharply pointed at the small and
rounded at the obtuse end. These are of a dark cream-colour,
minutely dotted over with pin-points of brown.
The same authority tells us that these Guinea Fowls rear their young
much in the same manner as our Pheasants do. If the female is
startled she flies off and leaves her little family, who at once disperse
in every direction, and hide so cunningly amongst the grass and
bushes that they are seldom discovered: they usually remain in their
concealment until called together again by the shrill note of the
parent bird. In the Fish River Valley they roost upon the willow-
branches that project over the large holes of water, out of the reach
of wild cats. The Phasidus niger and Agelastus meleagrides, two very
similar species, are natives of Western Africa.
According to M. du Chaillu, the Phasidus niger was met with by him
from fifty to one hundred miles in the interior, reckoning from Cape
Lopez, and was unknown to the inhabitants of the Cape. He
obtained but a single specimen.

THE TUFT-BEAKED PINTADO.

The TUFT-BEAKED PINTADO (Numida ptilorhyncha), a very similar
species, has the stiff feathers that encircle the throat of a velvety
black, whilst those of the body are dark brownish grey, dotted with
white. These markings become more perceptible on the upper wing-
covers, and take an oval form on the outer web of the shoulder-
feathers; the under side has a blueish grey lustre; the breast, sides,
and lower tail-covers are decorated with large round spots. The
brownish grey quills are more or less distinctly margined with light
grey or whitish edges; the lower secondaries have a light blueish
grey border, tinted with two shades of brownish grey, and, like the
tail-feathers, are very distinctly spotted. The eye is brown and the
cheek light blue, as are the large broad lappets; the throat is flesh-
red, the bare crown of the head greyish yellow, and the tuft of
bristle-like hairs at the base of the upper mandible, from which these
birds derive their name, light yellow; the bill is reddish at its base
and grey at its tip; the foot dark greyish brown.
This species is a native of Abyssinia and Nubia, where it frequents
valleys bordered with thickets, and renders itself remarkable by its
extremely harsh voice. It seldom flies, and then only for a short
distance to escape from danger. The flesh is exceedingly savoury.

The TURKEYS (Meleagrides) are large but comparatively slender

birds, with long legs and short wings and tail; the moderate-sized
head and neck are unfeathered and covered with warts; the short,
strong beak, from which depends a fleshy wattle, has the upper
mandible curved and vaulted. The high foot is furnished with long
toes, the rounded wing has its third quill longer than the rest; and
the tail, composed of eighteen broad, upright feathers, is also
slightly rounded at its extremity. The thick heavy plumage is
unusually glossy. One remarkable characteristic of these birds is the
bristle-like structure of some of the breast-feathers, some of which
are much longer than those of the rest of the body. The members of
this group inhabit the forests, prairies, and open tracts of North
America; the males wandering about the country in small parties of
from ten to one hundred, and seeking their food apart from the
females, who are occupied in feeding their young. Turkeys are found
in a wild state from Canada to Panama, and so far from being
improved by the care of man, have remarkably degenerated in a
state of domesticity. When wild they often weigh from twenty to
sixty pounds, and when standing upright, measure at least three
feet in height. Formerly these birds were common in Canada and the
central parts of the United States, but they have gradually fallen
back before the advance of civilisation, although they only seem to
yield their country inch by inch to the husbandman.

THE PUTER, OR WILD TURKEY.

The PUTER, or WILD TURKEY (Meleagris gallopavo), is of a brownish
yellow on the upper parts of the body, which gleam with a beautiful
metallic lustre, each feather having a broad resplendent black edge.
The hinder portions of the back-feathers and tail-covers are dark
reddish brown, striped green and black; the yellowish brown breast
is darkest at its sides; the belly and legs are brownish grey, and the
feathers on the rump pale black, faintly edged with a darker shade.
The quills are blackish brown, the primaries greyish white, and the
secondaries brownish, striped with white; the tail-feathers are
brown, dotted and marked with black. The bare parts of the head
and throat are pale sky-blue, the warts that cover the face bright
red, and the lower region of the eye ultramarine-blue. The eye is
yellowish blue, the beak whitish grey, and the foot pale violet or
bright red. This species is from forty to forty-four inches long, and
from fifty-three to sixty broad; the wing measures eighteen and the
tail fifteen inches. The plumage of the hen, though somewhat
resembling that of the male, is much less beautifully coloured; her
length does not exceed thirty-five inches, and her breadth forty-eight
inches and a half; the wing measures fifteen and the tail eleven
inches.

THE OCELLATED TURKEY (Meleagris ocellata), ONE-FIFTH NATURAL

SIZE.
Of the many accounts respecting the life of the Wild Turkey of North
America, none is more excellent than the following from the pen of
Audubon:—"The unsettled parts of the States of Kentucky, Ohio,
Illinois, and Indiana, an immense extent of country to the north-
west of those districts upon the Mississippi and Missouri, and the
vast regions drained by these rivers from their confluence to
Louisiana, including the wooded parts of Arkansas, Tennessee, and
Alabama, are most abundantly supplied with this magnificent bird. It
is less plentiful in Georgia and the Carolinas, becomes still scarcer in
Virginia and Pennsylvania, and is now very rarely seen to the east of
the last-mentioned States." It is already extirpated from the thickly-
peopled portions of the continent.
"The Turkey," continues Audubon, "is irregularly migratory, as well as
irregularly gregarious. When the supply of food in one portion of the
country happens greatly to exceed that of another, the Turkeys are
insensibly led towards that spot, by gradually meeting in their haunts
with more fruit the nearer they advance towards the place where it
is most plentiful. In this manner flock follows after flock, until one
district is entirely deserted, while another is, as it were, overflowed
by them.
"About the beginning of October, when scarcely any of the seeds
and fruits have yet fallen from the trees, these birds assemble in
flocks, and gradually move towards the rich bottom-lands of the
Ohio and the Mississippi. The males, or as they are more commonly
called, the 'gobblers,' associate in parties of from ten to a hundred,
and search for food apart from the females; while the latter are seen
advancing singly, each with its brood of young, then about two-
thirds grown, or in connection with other families, forming parties
amounting to seventy or eighty individuals, all intent on shunning
the old cocks, which, even when the young birds have attained this
size, will fight with and often destroy them by repeated blows on the
head. Old and young, however, all move in the same course and on
foot, unless their progress be interrupted by a river, or the hunter's
dog force them to take wing. When they come to a river they betake
themselves to the highest eminences, and there often remain a
whole day, or sometimes two, as if for the purpose of consultation.
During this time the males are heard gobbling, calling, and making
much ado, and are seen strutting about as if to raise their courage
to a pitch befitting the emergency. Even the females and young
assume something of the same pompous demeanour, spread out
their tails and run round each other, purring loudly and performing
extravagant leaps. At length, when the weather appears settled, and
all around is quiet, the whole party mount to the tops of the highest
trees, whence, at a signal consisting of a single cluck given by a
leader, the flock takes flight for the opposite shore. The old and fat
birds easily get over, even should the river be a mile in breadth; but
the young and less robust frequently fall into the water, not to be
drowned, however, as might be imagined. They bring their wings
close to their body, spread out their tail as a support, stretch forward
their neck, and striking out their legs with great vigour, proceed
rapidly towards the shore, on approaching which, should they find it
too steep for landing, they cease their exertions for a few moments,
float down the stream until they come to an accessible part, and by
a violent effort generally extricate themselves from the water. It is
remarkable that immediately after thus crossing a large stream, they
ramble about for some time as if bewildered; in this state they fall
an easy prey to the hunter.
"When the Turkeys arrive in parts where food is abundant, they
separate into smaller flocks, composed of birds of all ages and both
sexes, promiscuously mingled, and devour all before them. This
happens about the middle of November. So gentle do they
sometimes become after these long journeys, that they have been
seen to approach the farmhouses, associate with the Domestic
Fowls, and enter the stables and corn-cribs in quest of food. In this
way, roaming about the forests, and feeding chiefly on mast, they
pass the autumn and part of the winter.
"As early as the middle of February the females separate and fly
from the males, the latter strenuously pursue, and begin to gobble
or to utter their notes of exultation. The sexes roost apart, but at no
great distance from each other. When a female utters a call-note, all
the gobblers within hearing return the sound, rolling note after note
with as much rapidity as if they intended to emit the first and last
together, not with spread tail, as when fluttering round the females
on the ground, or practising on the branches of the trees on which
they have roosted for the night, but much in the manner of the
Domestic Turkey, when an unusual or unexpected noise elicits its
singular hubbub. If the call of the female comes from the ground, all
the males immediately fly towards the spot, and the moment they
reach it, whether the hen be in sight or not, spread out and erect
their tail, draw the head back on the shoulders, depress their wings
with a quivering motion, and strut pompously about, emitting at the
same time a succession of puffs from the lungs, and stopping now
and then to listen and look, but whether they spy the female or not
they continue to puff and strut, moving with as much celerity as
their ideas of ceremony seem to admit. While thus occupied the
males often encounter each other, in which case desperate battles
take place, ending in bloodshed and often in the loss of many lives,
the weaker falling under the blows inflicted upon the head by the
stronger. The moment a rival is dead the conqueror treads him
under foot, but what is strange, not with hatred, but with all the
motions which he employs in caressing the female.
"About the middle of April, when the season is dry, the hens begin to
look out for a place to deposit their eggs. This place requires to be
as much as possible concealed from the eyes of the Crow, as that
bird watches the Turkey when going to her nest, and, waiting in the
neighbourhood until she has left it, removes and eats the eggs. The
nest, which consists of a few withered leaves, is placed on the
ground, in a hollow scooped out by the side of a log, or in the fallen
top of a dry leafy tree, under a thicket of sumach or briars, or a few
feet within the edge of a cornbrake, but always in a dry place. When
laying her eggs the female approaches her nest very cautiously,
scarcely ever following the same track twice, and when she leaves
them covers them so carefully with leaves that it is very difficult for
any person to find the nest, unless the mother has been suddenly
started from it. When on her nest, if she perceives an enemy, she
sits still and crouches low until the intruder has passed by, unless
she is aware that she has been discovered."
"I have frequently," says Audubon, "approached within five or six
paces of a nest, of which I was previously aware, assuming an air of
carelessness, and whistling or talking to myself, the female
remaining undisturbed; whereas if I went cautiously towards it, she
would never suffer me to approach within twenty paces, but would
run off, with her tail spread on one side, to a distance of twenty or
thirty yards, when, assuming a stately gait, she would walk about
deliberately, uttering now and then a cluck."
The mother seldom abandons her nest on account of its having been
disturbed by man, but if robbed by a snake or other wild animal she
never approaches it again. If her brood has been destroyed, she lays
a second set of eggs, but usually rears only one brood in the season.
Sometimes several mothers lay their eggs in the same nest.
Audubon once found three sitting upon forty-two eggs. In such a
case one or other of the females always keeps guard over the nest,
to prevent the approach of the weaker kind of enemies. When nearly
hatching, the hen will not leave her eggs for any consideration, and
will rather allow herself to be fenced in than desert her nest.
Audubon tells us he once witnessed the hatching of a brood of
Turkeys.
"I concealed myself," he says, "on the ground, within a very few
feet, and saw the female raise herself half the length of her legs,
look anxiously upon the eggs, cluck with a sound peculiar to the
mother on such occasions, carefully remove each half-empty shell,
and with her bill caress and dry the young birds that already stood
tottering and attempting to make their way from the nest. I saw
them all emerge from the shell, and in a few moments after tumble,
roll, and push each other forward, with astonishing and inscrutable
instinct."
Before the old bird leaves the nest she shakes herself violently,
preens her feathers, and assumes quite a different appearance; she
raises herself, stretches out her neck, and glances about and around
to detect any enemy that may be nigh, spreads her wings, and
clucking softly, endeavours to keep her young family together. As the
brood are usually hatched in the afternoon, they often return and
spend the first night in the nest, but afterwards remove to higher
undulating ground, the mother dreading the effects of rain on her
young, which seldom survive if thoroughly wetted at this tender age,
when their only covering is a soft, delicate, hairy down. In about
fourteen days the young birds, which till this time had rested on the
ground, are able to fly to some low branch, and pass the night under
the sheltering wings of their mother. A little later they leave the
woods during the day, and search the prairies and glades for berries
of various kinds, and grasshoppers. The young now rapidly increase
in size and strength, and about the month of August are able to
escape the attacks of their four-footed enemies by rising from the
ground to the highest branches of the trees. About this time young
and old assemble together and begin their pilgrimage.
Wild Turkeys will sometimes feed and associate with tame ones,
whose owners are glad to welcome them, the half-breed being much
the most hardy, and easily reared.
"While at Henderson," says Audubon, "I had among other birds a
fine male Turkey, which had been reared from its earliest youth
under my care, it having been caught by me when probably not
more than two or three days old. It became so tame that it would
follow any person who called it, and was the favourite of the little
village; yet it would never roost with the tame Turkeys, but regularly
betook itself at night to the roof of the house, where it remained till
dawn. When two years old it began to fly to the woods, where it
remained for a considerable part of the day, returning to the
enclosure as soon as night approached. It continued this practice
until the following spring, when I saw it several times fly from its
roosting-place to the top of a high cotton tree on the Ohio, from
which, after resting a little, it would sail to the opposite shore, the
river being nearly half a mile wide, and return towards night. One
morning I saw it fly off at a very early hour to the woods, in another
direction, and took no particular notice of the circumstance. Several
days elapsed, but the bird did not return. I was going towards some
lakes near Green River, to shoot, when having walked five miles I
saw a fine large gobbler cross the path before me, moving leisurely
along. Turkeys being then in prime condition for the table, I ordered
my dog to chase it and put it up. The animal went off with great
rapidity, and as it approached the Turkey, I saw with much surprise
that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on the point of seizing
it, when she suddenly stopped and turned her head towards me. I
hastened to them, but you may easily conceive my surprise when I
saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised
the dog and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange
dog would have caused it to run off at once."
The Wild Turkeys do not restrict themselves to any particular kind of
food, but prefer the winter grape and the pecan-nut, being found in
the greatest numbers where these are plentiful. They eat grass and
various herbs, corn, berries, fruit, insects, tadpoles, and small
lizards. When walking, these birds often open their wings a little,
folding them again over each other, as if their weight were too great,
then run a short distance, spreading their pinions and fanning their
sides after the manner of the Domestic Fowl, then leaping two or
three times into the air, and shaking themselves. While searching for
food they keep the head raised, and are always on the watch,
meanwhile scratching with their feet, and snatching up at once with
the beak any prey which they may have found. In summer they roll
themselves in the dust of roads or ploughed fields to clear
themselves from ticks. After snow, when the ground becomes hard,
the Turkeys will remain on their sleeping-places without food for
three or four days, but sometimes venture into farmyards to the
stacks of corn and stables, in search of grain. During falls of melting
snow they run to surprising distances, and with such rapidity that no
horse can keep up with them; late in the spring, however, their
strength is not so great, and a good dog is able to overtake them.
With the exception of man, the most formidable enemies of the Wild
Turkey are the lynx, the Snowy Owl, and the Virginian Owl. The lynx
pursues both old and young, sucks their eggs, and does them great
injury. The Owls attack them when roosting on the branches of
trees, hovering around them with silent wing. "This, however," says
Audubon, "is rarely done without being discovered; a single cluck
from one of the party announces the approach of the murderer.
They instantly start upon their legs and watch the motions of the
Owl, which, selecting one as its victim, comes down upon it like an
arrow, and would inevitably secure the prize, did not the latter at
that moment lower its head, stoop, and spread its tail in an inverted
manner over its back, so that the aggressor is met by a smooth
inclined plane, along which it glances without hurting the Turkey;
immediately after which the latter drops to the ground, and thus
escapes merely with the loss of a few feathers."
Turkeys are hunted in all parts of America with ardour, but always in
moderation. They are shot at pairing-time, and also when at roost;
but they are most commonly caught in pens, in a manner thus
described by Audubon:—
"Young trees, of four or five inches in diameter, are cut down and
divided into pieces of the length of twelve or fourteen feet. Two of
these are laid on the ground parallel to each other, at a distance of
ten or twelve feet. Two others are laid across the ends of these at
right angles to them, and in this manner successive layers are added
until the fabric is raised to the height of about four feet. It is then
covered with similar pieces of wood, placed three or four inches
apart, and loaded with one or two heavy logs to render the whole
firm. This done, a trench about eighteen inches in depth and width
is cut under one side of the cage, into which it opens slantingly and
rather abruptly. It is continued on its outside to some distance, so as
gradually to attain the level of the surrounding ground. Over the part
of this trench within the pen, and close to the wall, some sticks are
placed so as to form a kind of bridge about a foot in breadth. The
trap being now finished, the owner places a quantity of Indian corn
in its centre, as well as in the trench; and as he walks off, drops here
and there a few grains in the woods, sometimes to the distance of a
mile. This is repeated at every visit to the trap after the Turkeys
have found it. No sooner has a Turkey discovered the train of corn
than it communicates the circumstance to the flock by a cluck, when
all of them come up, and searching for the grains scattered about, at
length come upon the trench, which they follow, squeezing
themselves one after another through the passage under the bridge.
In this manner the whole flock sometimes enters, but more
commonly six or seven only, as they are alarmed by the least noise,
even the cracking of a tree in frosty weather. Those within having
gorged themselves, raise their heads, and try to force their way
through the top or sides of the pen, passing and repassing on the
bridge, but never for a moment looking down or attempting to
escape by the passage by which they entered. Thus they remain
until the owner of the trap arriving closes the trench and secures his
captives. I have heard of eighteen Turkeys having been caught in
this manner at a single visit to the trap."
When Turkeys are abundant, the owners sometimes neglect to visit
their traps, and the poor prisoners are starved for want of food, for
they never retrace their steps along the trench, as they might readily
do, and thus regain their liberty.

The AUSTRALIAN JUNGLE FOWLS (Megapodinæ) form a group of

Australian birds, distinguished from all their feathered brethren by
the strange manner in which their broods are incubated. For this
process mounds of grass and earth are erected by the parents to
receive their unusually large eggs, which are hatched by means of
the heat engendered by the decaying vegetable matter. The young
do not quit the shell until they are fully fledged and capable of
supporting themselves. Gould is of opinion that this singular way of
incubating the eggs, and the very small size of their brain, indicate
that the Megapodinæ hold but a low place in the scale of
intelligence. Naturalists are much at variance concerning the
systematic position of these birds, but in our own opinion
Reichenbach is correct in considering them as nearly allied to the
Gallinaceæ, and we shall therefore adopt his arrangement.
The TALLEGALLI (Tallegalli) are recognisable by their strong curved
beak, short toes, small much-rounded wings, and the bare patches
on the head, neck, and breast. These birds inhabit the dense
brushes, scrubby gullies, and primeval forests of Australia and New
Guinea, where they are met with in small flocks on the ground. In
disposition they are very shy, and when disturbed endeavour to
escape by running into the thick brush or by flying up to the
branches of trees, and then ascending to the top, which they gain by
leaping from bough to bough; having attained the summit they
sometimes fly off to a new locality in the underwood. During the
mid-day heat they generally seek shelter under the shady branches
of trees, often uttering a low chuckling noise; they also dust
themselves on the ground, after the manner of other Gallinaceous
Birds. Their food consists of seeds, berries, and insects.

THE BRUSH TURKEY (Catheturus Lathami).

The BRUSH TURKEYS (Catheturus) are recognisable by their
powerful frame, moderate-sized neck, large head, short rounded
wings, and tail of medium length, composed of eighteen feathers;
their soft woolly down, and a slight hairy growth on the head and
neck. The fore part of the throat exhibits a long fleshy excrescence.
These remarkable birds are natives of Australia.

THE BRUSH TURKEY, OR WATTLED TALLEGALLUS.

The BRUSH TURKEY, or WATTLED TALLEGALLUS (Catheturus, or Tallegallus
Lathami), is of a beautiful chocolate-brown on the upper portions of
the body, and light brown on the under side, which is marked with
silver-grey. The eye is light brown, the wattle bright yellow, the beak
lead-grey, and the foot light reddish brown. The bare skin on the
head and neck is scarlet. This species is two feet and a half long; the
wing measures twelve inches, and the tail nine inches and a half.
The female closely resembles her mate.
"How far the range of the Wattled Tallegallus may extend," says Mr.
Gould, "is not yet satisfactorily ascertained; it is known to inhabit
various parts of New South Wales, from Cape Howe to Moreton Bay,
and Mr. Macgillivray informed me that he had killed it as far up the
east coast as Port Molle. The assaults of the cedar-cutters and
others, who frequently hunt through the brushes of Illawarra and
Maitland, had, however, nearly extirpated it from those localities
when I visited the colony in 1838, and it probably does not now exist
there; but I believe it is still plentiful in the dense and little-trodden
brushes of the Manning and Clarence. I was at first led to believe
the country between the mountain ranges and the coast constituted
its sole habitat, but I was agreeably surprised when I found it in the
Liverpool brushes and in the scrubby gullies and sides of the lower
hills that branch off towards the interior.
"It has often been asserted that Australia abounds in anomalies, and
in no instance is the truth of this assertion more fully exemplified
than in the history of this very singular bird, respecting the situation
of which in the natural system much diversity of opinion, as above
noticed, has hitherto prevailed. It was consequently one of the birds
which demanded my utmost attention during my visit to Australia.
"The most remarkable circumstance connected with the economy of
this species is the fact of its eggs not being incubated in the manner
of other birds. At the commencement of the spring the Wattled
Tallegallus scratches together an immense heap of decaying matter
as a depository for the eggs, and trusts to the heat developed by the
process of fermentation for the development of the young. The heap
employed for this purpose is collected by the birds during several
weeks previous to the period of laying; it varies in size from two to
many cartloads, and in most instances is of a pyramidal form. The
construction of the mound is either the work of one pair of birds, or,
as some suppose, of the united labours of several; the same site
appears to be resorted to for several years in succession, the birds
adding a fresh supply of materials each succeeding season.
"The materials composing these mounds are accumulated by the
bird grasping a quantity in its foot, and throwing it backwards to a
common centre, the surface of the ground for a considerable
distance being so completely scratched over that scarcely a leaf or
blade of grass is left. The mound being completed, and time being
left for sufficient heat to be engendered, the eggs are deposited in a
circle at the distance of nine or twelve inches from each other, and
buried more than an arm's depth, with the large end upwards; they
are covered up as they are laid, and allowed to remain until they are
hatched. I have been credibly informed, both by natives and settlers
living near their haunts, that it is not unusual to obtain half a bushel
of eggs at a time from a single mound, and I have myself seen a
native woman bring to the encampment in her net half that quantity,
as the spoils of a foraging excursion to the neighbouring scrub.
Some of the natives state that the females are constantly in the
neighbourhood of the mound about the time the young are likely to
be hatched, and frequently uncover and cover them up again,
apparently for the purpose of assisting those that may have
appeared, while others have informed me that the eggs are merely
deposited and the young allowed to force their way unassisted. One
point has been clearly ascertained, namely, that the young, from the
hour that they are hatched, are clothed with feathers, and have their
wings sufficiently developed to enable them to fly on to the branches
of trees, should they need to do so to escape from danger. They are
equally nimble on their legs; in fact, as a moth emerges from a
chrysalis, dries its wings, and flies away, so the youthful Tallegallus,
when it leaves the egg, is sufficiently perfect to be able to act
independently and procure its own food.
"Although, unfortunately," continues Mr. Gould, "I was almost too
late for the breeding season, I nevertheless saw several of these
hatching mounds, both in the interior of New South Wales and at
Illawarra. In every instance they were placed in the most retired and
shady glens and on the slope of a hill, the part above the mound
being scratched clean, while all below remained untouched, as if the
birds had found it more easy to convey the materials down than to
throw them up. The eggs are perfectly white, of a long oval form,
three inches and three-quarters long, by two inches and a half in
diameter."
In the Gardens of the Zoological Society in the Regent's Park, several
old birds have constructed mounds, in which they deposited eggs,
and their young have become developed.
"In the year 1854," says Mr. Sclater, "the singular phenomenon of
the mound-raising faculty of the Tallegallus, which had been well
ascertained in Australia by Mr. Gould, was effectually displayed by a
pair of birds.
"On being removed into a sufficiently large enclosure, with an
abundance of vegetable material within reach, the male began at
once to throw it up into a heap behind him, by a scratching motion
of his powerful feet, which projected each footful as he grasped it
for a considerable distance in the rear. As he always began to work
at the outer margin of the enclosure, the material was thrown
inwards in concentric circles until it sufficiently neared the spot
selected for the mound to be jerked upon it. As soon as the mound
had risen to a height of about four feet, both birds worked in
reducing it to an even surface, and then began to excavate a
depression in the centre. In this in due time the eggs were placed,
as they were laid, and arranged in a circle about fifteen inches below
the summit of the mound, at regular intervals, with the smaller end
of the egg pointing downwards. The male bird watched the
temperature of the mound very carefully; the eggs were generally
covered, a cylindrical opening being always maintained in the centre
of the circle for the purpose of giving air to them, and probably to
prevent the danger of a sudden increase of heat from the action of
the sun, or accelerated fermentation in the mound itself. In hot days
the eggs were nearly uncovered two or three times between
morning and evening. In about a month after the first egg was
supposed to have been laid a young bird was hatched, and is still
living with its parents. Subsequent observation enables us to state
that on the young bird chipping out of the egg, it remains in the
mound for at least twelve hours, without making any effort to
emerge from it, being at that time almost as deeply covered up as
the rest of the eggs. On the second day it comes out with each of its
wing-feathers well developed in a sheath which soon bursts, but
apparently it has no inclination to use them, its powerful feet at once
giving it ample means of locomotion. Early in the afternoon the
young bird retires to the mound again, and is partially covered up for
the night by the assiduous father, but at a diminished depth as
compared with the circle of eggs from which it emerged in the
morning. On the third day the nestling is capable of flight, and one
of them accidentally forced its way through the strong netting which
covered the enclosure."
In its native woods this species lives in small companies like other
Gallinæ, and while on the ground appears shy and distrustful, but
quite fearless when in the trees. "While stalking about the trees,"
says Mr. Gould, "the Tallegallus utters a rather loud clucking noise,
but whether this sound is only produced by the female I could not
ascertain; still, I think that such is the case, and that the spiteful
male, who appears to delight in expanding his richly-coloured fleshy
wattles and unmercifully thrashing his helpmate, is generally mute.
In various parts of the brush I observed depressions in the earth,
which the natives informed me were made by the birds in dusting
themselves."
When disturbed, the Wattled Tallegallus readily eludes pursuit by the
facility with which it runs through the tangled brush. If hard pressed,
or when rushed upon by its great enemy the native dog, it springs
upon the lowermost bough of some neighbouring tree, and by a
succession of leaps from branch to branch ascends to the top, and
either perches there or flies off to another part of the brush. It has
also the habit of resorting to the branches of trees as a shelter from
the mid-day sun, a peculiarity that greatly tends to its destruction;
for, like the Ruffed Grouse of America, when assembled in small
companies, these birds will allow a succession of shots to be fired
until they are all brought down. Unless some measures be adopted
for their preservation, this circumstance must lead to an early
extinction of this singular species—an event much to be regretted,
since, independently of its being an interesting object for the aviary,
it is an excellent bird for the table.

THE MALEO.
The MALEO (Megacephalon Maleo) is characterised by a hard, round
excrescence that commences at the nostrils and passes over the
brow to the back of the head. The powerful beak is ridged at its
culmen, and has the margin of the lower mandible almost straight;
the third quill in the shell-shaped wing is longer than the rest; the
rounded tail is composed of eighteen feathers, and the strong foot
furnished with short toes. The plumage on the back, a band on the
breast, and the region of the vent and thighs are blackish brown,
and the breast and belly pale rose-red. The eye is yellow, the bare
part of the head whitish blue, the occipital protuberance blue; the
beak and the fore part of the foot are horn-grey. This species is
twenty-four inches long; the wing measures eleven and the tail eight
inches.
"In the months of August and September," says Wallace, "when
there is little or no rain, the Maleos come down in pairs from the
interior to one or two favourite spots, and scratch holes three or four
feet deep, just above high-water mark, where the female deposits a
single large egg, which she covers with about a foot of sand, and
then returns to the forest. At the end of ten or twelve days she
comes again to the same spot to lay another egg, and each female
bird is supposed to lay six or eight eggs during the season. The male
assists the female in making the hole, coming down and returning
with her. The appearance of these birds when walking on the beach
is very handsome. The glossy black and rosy white of the plumage,
the helmeted head, and elevated tail, like that of the Common Fowl,
give a striking character, which their stately and somewhat sedate
walk renders still more remarkable. There is hardly any difference
between the sexes, except that the casque or bonnet at the back of
the head and the tubercles at the nostrils are a little larger, while the
beautiful rosy salmon-colour is perhaps deeper in the male bird; but
the difference is so slight that it is not always possible to tell a male
from a female without dissection. They run quickly, but when shot at
or suddenly disturbed take wing with a heavy noisy flight to some
neighbouring tree, where they settle on a low branch; they probably
roost at night in a similar situation. Many females lay in the same
hole, for a dozen eggs are often found together, and these are so
large that it is not possible for the body of the bird to contain more
than one fully-developed egg at the same time. In all the female
birds which I shot," continues this author, "none of the eggs besides
the one large one exceeded the size of peas, and there were only
eight or nine of these, which is possibly the extreme number a bird
can lay in the season.
"Arrived at our destination, we built a hut, and prepared for a stay of
some days, I to shoot and skin Maleos. The place is situated in the
large bay between the islands of Limbé and Banca, and consists of a
steep beach more than a mile in length, of deep, loose, and coarse
black volcanic sand, or rather gravel, very fatiguing to walk over. It is
in this loose black sand that those singular birds, the Maleos, deposit
their eggs.
"Every year the natives come for fifty miles round to obtain these
eggs, which are esteemed a great delicacy, and when quite fresh are
indeed delicious. They are richer than Hens' eggs, and of a finer
flavour, each one completely fills an ordinary tea-cup, and forms,
with bread or rice, a very good meal. The colour of the shell is a pale
brick-red, or very rarely pure white. They are elongate, and very
slightly smaller at one end, from four to four and a half inches long,
by two and a quarter and two and a half wide."

THE MALEO (Megacephalon Maleo), ONE-FOURTH NATURAL SIZE.

After the eggs are deposited in the sand they are no further cared
for by the mother. The young birds on breaking the shell, work their
way up through the sand, and run off at once to the forest. "I was
assured by Mr. Duivenfoden, of Ternate," says Wallace, "that they
can fly the very day they are hatched. He had taken some eggs on
board his schooner which were hatched during the night, and in the
morning the little birds flew readily across the cabin. Considering the
great distances the hens come to deposit the eggs in a proper
situation (often ten or fifteen miles), it seems extraordinary that they
should take no further care of them. It is, however, quite certain that
they neither do nor can watch them. The eggs being deposited by a
number of hens in succession in the same hole would render it
impossible for each to distinguish its own, and the food necessary
for such large birds, consisting entirely of fallen fruits, can only be
obtained by roaming over an extensive district; so that if the
numbers which come down to this single beach in the breeding
season, amounting to many hundreds, were obliged to remain in the
vicinity, many would perish of hunger." In the structure of the feet of
this bird we may detect a cause for its departing from the habits of
its nearest allies, the Megapodii and Tallegalli, which heap up earth,
leaves, stones, and sticks into a large mound, wherein they bury
their eggs. The feet of the Maleo are not nearly so large or strong in
proportion as in these birds, while its claws are short and straight
instead of being long and curved. The toes are, however, strongly
webbed at the base, forming a broad powerful foot, this, with the
rather long leg, is well adapted to scratch away the loose sand
(which flies up in a perfect shower when the birds are at work), but
they could not, without much labour, accumulate the heaps of
miscellaneous rubbish brought together by the large grasping feet of
the Megapodius.

THE OCELLATED LEIPOA.

The OCELLATED LEIPOA (Leipoa ocellata) has a slender body and a
broad rounded wing, in which the second quill exceeds the rest in
length; the tail, formed of fourteen feathers, is long, broad, and
much rounded; the powerful foot is high, the beak comparatively
small and straight. The colour of the head and crest is blackish
brown, of the neck and shoulders dark ash-grey; the fore part of the
former, from the chin to the breast, is marked by a series of
lanceolate feathers, which are black, with a white stripe down the
centre; the back and wings are conspicuously marked with three
distinct bands of greyish white, brown, and black; near the tip of
each feather the marks assume an ocellate form, particularly on the
tips of the secondaries. The primaries are brown, their outer webs
marked with zigzag lines of darker brown; the rump and upper tail-
covers are brownish grey, the feathers of the latter transversely
marked with two or three zigzag lines near their tip; all the under
surface is light buff; the tips of the flank-feathers are barred with
black; the tail is blackish brown, broadly tipped with buff; the bill
black, and the foot blackish brown.
"The Ocellated Leipoa," says Gould, "appears to be more peculiarly
suited for a plain and open country than for the tangled brush; and
it is most curious to observe how beautifully the means employed by
Nature for the reproduction of the species is adapted to the
situations it is destined to inhabit." The following sketches of its
economy, so far as it has yet been ascertained, were given me by
Gilbert and Sir George Grey, and are here reproduced in their own
words:—
"Wongan Hills, Western Australia, September 28, 1842.
"This morning I had the good fortune to penetrate into the dense
thicket I had so long been anxious to visit in search of the Leipoa's
eggs, and had not proceeded far before the native who was with me
told me to keep a good look out, as we were among the Ngou-oo's
hillocks; and in half an hour after, we found one, around which the
brush was so thick that we were almost running over it before
seeing it. So anxious was I to see the hidden treasures within that,
in my haste, I threw aside the black fellow and began scraping off
the upper part of the mound; this did not please him at all, and he
became very indignant, at the same time making me understand
that as I had never seen this nest before, I had better trust him to
get out the eggs, or I should, in my haste and impatience, certainly
break them. I therefore let him have his own way, and he began
scraping off the earth very carefully from the centre, throwing it over
the side, so that the mound very soon presented the appearance of
a huge basin. About two feet in depth of earth was in this way
thrown off, when the large ends of two eggs met my anxious gaze;
both these eggs were resting on their smaller apex, and the earth
round them had to be very carefully removed to avoid breaking the
shell, which is extremely fragile when first exposed to the
atmosphere. About a hundred yards from this first mound, we came
upon a second, rather larger, of the same external form and
appearance; it contained three eggs. Although we saw seven or
eight more mounds, only these two contained eggs: we were too
early; a week later and we should doubtless have found many more.
To give you an idea of the place these birds choose for their
remarkable mode of rearing their young, I will describe it as nearly
as I can.
"The Wongan Hills are about 1,300 feet above the level of the sea,
in a north-north-east direction from Drummond's House in the
Toodyay. Their sides are thickly clothed with a dense forest of
Eucalypti, and at their base is a thicket, extending for several miles,
of upright-growing and thick bushy plants, so high in most parts that
we could not see over their tops, and so dense that if we only
separated for a few yards we were obliged to 'cooey' to prevent our
straying from each other. This thicket is again shadowed by a very
curious species of dwarf Eucalyptus, bearing yellow blossoms, and
growing from fifteen to thirty feet in height, known to the natives as
the spear-wood, and of which they make their spears, digging-sticks,
dowaks, &c. The whole formation is a fine reddish iron-stone gravel,
and this the Leipoa scratches up for several yards around, and thus
forms its mound, to be afterwards converted into a hotbed for the
reproduction of its offspring. The interior of the mound is composed
of the finer particles of the gravel, mixed with vegetable matter, the
fermentation of which produces a warmth sufficient for the purpose
of hatching. Mr. Drummond, who had been for years accustomed to
hotbeds in England, gave it as his opinion that the heat around the
eggs was about 89°. In both the nests with eggs the White Ant was
very numerous, making its little covered galleries of earth around
and attached to the shell, thus showing a beautiful provision of
Nature in preparing the necessary tender food for the young bird on
its emergence. One of the eggs I have preserved shows the White
Ant's tracks most beautifully. The largest mound I saw, and which
appeared as if in a state of preparation for eggs, measured forty-five
feet in circumference, and, if round in proportion on the top, would
have been fully five feet in height. I remarked that in all the mounds
not ready for the reception of eggs the inside or vegetable portion
was always wet and cold; and I imagine from the state of the others
that the bird turns out the whole of the materials to dry before
depositing its eggs and covering them up with the soil. In both cases
where I found eggs, the upper part of the mound was perfectly and
smoothly rounded over, so that any one passing it without knowing
the singular habit of the bird might very readily suppose it to be an
ant-hill. Mounds in this state always contain eggs within, while those
without eggs are not only not rounded over, but have the centres so
scooped out that they form a hollow. The eggs are laid directly in
the centre, all at the same depth, separated only by about three
inches of earth, and so placed as to form a circle. I regret we were
so early. Had we been a week later, the probability is I should have
found the circle of eggs complete. Is it not singular that all the eggs
were equally fresh, as if their development was arrested until the full
number were deposited, so that the young might all appear at the
same time? No one considering the immense size of the egg can
suppose for a moment the bird capable of laying more than one
without at least the intermission of a day, and perhaps even more.
Like those of the Megapodius, they are covered with an epidermis-
like coating, and are certainly as large, being three inches and three-
quarters in length by two and a half in breadth. They vary in colour
from a very light brown to a light salmon. During the whole day we
did not succeed in obtaining sight of the bird, although we saw
numerous tracks of its feet, and many places where it had been
scratching. We also saw its tracks on the sand when crossing the
dried beds of the swamps at least two miles from the breeding
thicket, which proves that the bird in procuring its food does not
confine itself to the bushes around its nest, but merely resorts to
them for the purpose of incubating. The native informed us that the
only chance of procuring the bird was by stationing ourselves in
sight of the mound at a little distance, and remaining quiet and
immovable till it made its appearance at sundown. This I attempted,
and, with the native, encamped within twenty yards of the mound
about an hour before sunset, taking precautions to conceal ourselves
well with bushes from the quick eye of the bird, but leaving just an
opening to get a fair sight with my gun. In a half-sitting, half-
crouching position, I thus remained in breathless anxiety for the
approach of the bird I had so long wished to see, not daring to move
a muscle for fear of stirring a branch or making a noise by crushing
a dead leaf, till I was so cramped that I could scarcely bear the pain
in my limbs. The bird did not, however, make its appearance, and
the native, with the fear of wading through the thicket in the
darkness (for there was no moon), became so impatient that he
started up and began to talk so loud and make so much noise that I
was compelled to give up all hopes of seeing the bird that night.
However, just as we were passing the mound we started the bird
from the opposite side, but, from the denseness of the thicket and
the darkness closing round us, I had no chance of getting a shot at
it."
Sir George Grey completes the account given by Gilbert. He says, "I
have lately returned from the Murray, where I have been studying
the habits and manners of the Leipoa ocellata, which is very plentiful
in the sandy districts of the scrub. Its food consists chiefly of insects,
such as Phasmidæ and a species of Cimex. It also feeds on the
seeds of various shrubs. It possesses the power of running with
extraordinary rapidity; it roosts at night on trees, and never flies if it
can avoid so doing.
"The mounds it constructs are from twelve to thirteen yards in
circumference at the base, and from two to three feet in height, the
general form being that of a dome. The sand and grass are
sometimes scraped up for a distance of from fifteen to sixteen feet
from its outer edge. The mound appears to be constructed as
follows:—A nearly circular hole of about eighteen inches in diameter
is scratched in the ground to the depth of seven or eight inches, and
filled with dead leaves, dead grass, and similar materials; and a
large mass of the same substance is placed all around it upon the
ground. Over this first layer a large mound of sand, mixed with dried
grass, &c., is thrown, and finally the whole assumes the form of a
dome, as I have before stated.
"When an egg is to be deposited, the top is laid open, and a hole
scraped in its centre, within two or three inches of the bottom of the
layer of dead leaves. The egg is placed in the sand just at the edge
of the hole, in a vertical position, with the smaller end downwards;
the sand is then thrown in again, and the mound left in its original
form. The egg which has thus been deposited is therefore
completely surrounded and enveloped in soft sand, having from four
to six inches of sand between the lower end of the egg and the layer
of dead leaves. When a second egg is laid, it is deposited in precisely
the same plane as the first, but at the opposite side of the hole
before alluded to. When a third egg is laid, it is still placed in the
same plane as the others, but, as it were, at the third corner of a
square. When the fourth egg is laid, it is still placed in the same
plane, but in the fourth corner of the square, or rather of the
lozenge, the figure being of this form, ; the next four eggs in
succession are placed in the interstices, but always on the same
plane, so that at last there is a circle of eight eggs all standing
upright in the sand, with several inches of sand intervening between
each. The male bird assists the female in opening and covering up
the mound, and, provided the birds are not themselves disturbed,
the female continues to lay several eggs in the same mound, even
after it has been several times robbed. The natives say that the
females lay an egg every day. Eight is the greatest number I have
heard of, from good authority, as having been found in one nest.
"The farthest point north at which I have seen the breeding-places
of these birds is in Gantheaume Bay. The natives of King George's
Sound say that the bird exists in their neighbourhood. I have never
fallen in with its nests but in one description of country, viz., where
the soil was dry and sandy, and so thickly wooded with a species of
dwarf Leptospermum that if you stray from the paths it is almost
impossible to force your way through."
Besides the above particulars, we have from Gould the following
account, which he elicited by cross-examination of several natives:
—"There is only one male and one female to each mound; they
repair an old mound, and do not build a new one; both assist in
scratching the sand to the nest. The female commences laying about
the beginning of September, or when the spear-grass begins to
shoot. Both sexes approach the nest together when the female is
about to lay, and they take an equal share in the labour of covering
and uncovering the mound. After every sunrise the female lays an
egg, and lays altogether from eight to ten. If the natives rob the
mound, the female will lay again in the same nest, but she will only
lay the full number of eggs twice in one summer. From the
commencement of building until the last eggs are hatched, four
moons elapse—this would give a very long period of time before the
eggs were hatched. The young one scratches its way out alone, the
mother does not assist it. They usually come out one at a time,
occasionally a pair appear together. The mother, who is feeding in
the scrub in its vicinity, hears its call and runs to it; she then takes
care of the young one as a European Hen does of its chick. When all
are hatched, the mother is accompanied by eight or ten young ones,
who remain with her until they are more than half grown. The male
bird does not accompany them. The two sexes have different calls,
that of the female is constantly uttered as she walks about the scrub
with her young ones.
"The natives frequently find the nest and eggs, but they seldom see
the old birds, as they are very timid and quick-sighted. They run
very fast like the Emu, roost on trees, live for a long time without
water, but drink when it rains. The Ocellated Leipoa is a remarkably
stout compact bird, and appears when alive to have as large a body
as the female Turkey, but it is shorter in the legs. Mr. Schomburghk
states that an egg he took home and placed under a Domestic Hen
was hatched the next day, and the young bird appeared covered
with feathers, and capable of at once obtaining its own food."

The MEGAPODES (Megapodii) have a large slender body, moderate-

sized neck, and large head; the broadly-rounded wing has the third,
fourth, and fifth quills of equal length; the tail, formed of ten
feathers, is short and rounded; the tarsus very strong, and longer
than the long, powerful middle toe, which is armed like the rest with
a formidable and slightly-hooked claw. The straight beak is usually
shorter than the head, and vaulted towards its tip. The thick
plumage is prolonged upon the back of the head and the region of
the eye; a large portion of the head and the throat and neck are
always bare. We are indebted to Gould, Gilbert, and Macgillivray for
full particulars respecting the mode of life of the Megapodes. "The
habits and economy of the birds comprised in this family are," says
Gould, "both curious and extraordinary, nor are they less singular in
their structure; indeed, in my own opinion, no group of birds is more
isolated. By one of our best ornithologists one species has been
classed with the Vultures, another placed it with Meleagres, and a
third authority considered it to be allied to the genus Ralles. From
the colonists of Australia the three species inhabiting that country
have received the trivial names of Brush Turkey, Native Pheasant,
and Jungle Fowl, but to none of these birds are they in any way
allied. In general appearance the Megapodidæ offer a certain degree
of alliance to the Gallinaceæ, but in the peculiar shape, colouring,
and odour of their eggs, and in the mode in which they are
incubated, they are totally different, and in some of these respects
resemble the tortoises and turtles. Three species belonging to
different genera inhabit Australia; others exist in New Guinea and
the neighbouring islands, and extend as far north as the Philippines."

THE AUSTRALIAN MEGAPODE.

The AUSTRALIAN MEGAPODE (Megapodius tumulus) is about the size of a
female Pheasant. The head of this species is dark reddish brown, the
back and wing reddish brown, the upper and lower tail-covers deep
chestnut-brown, the quills and tail-feathers blackish brown, and back
of the head and under side grey. The eye is light reddish brown, the
beak of rather a darker shade, and the foot bright orange.
"On my arrival at Port Essington," says Gilbert, "my attention was
attracted to numerous immense mounds of earth, which were
pointed out to me by some of the residents as the tumuli of the
aborigines; on the other hand, I was assured by the natives that
they were formed by the Megapode for the purpose of incubating its
eggs. This latter statement appeared so extraordinary, and so much
at variance with the general habits of birds, that no one in the
settlement believed them or took sufficient interest in the matter to
examine the mounds, and thus to verify or refute their accounts.
Another circumstance which induced a doubt of their veracity was
the great size of the eggs brought in by the natives as those of this
bird. Aware that the eggs of the Leipoa were hatched in a similar
manner, my attention was immediately arrested by these accounts,
and I at once determined to ascertain all I possibly could respecting
so singular a feature in the bird's economy; and having procured the
assistance of a very intelligent native, who undertook to guide me to
the different places resorted to by these birds, I proceeded on the
16th of November to Knocker's Bay, a part of Port Essington
Harbour, comparatively but little known, and where I had been
informed a number of these birds were always to be seen." A
detailed account follows of his finding several different mounds,
which he examined, and was quite convinced that the natives had
spoken the truth concerning them. Somewhat later, Mr. John
Macgillivray observed the Megapode on Nago Island, in Endeavour
Straits, and during his stay there was so fortunate as to procure both
the male and the female, and to find several mounds containing
eggs.
"Few birds," says this gentleman, "are more wary and less easily
procured than the Megapodius; it inhabits the belts of brush along
the coast, and I never found the tumulus at a greater distance from
the sea than a few hundred yards. When disturbed this species
seldom rises at once, unless on the margin of a thicket, but runs off
to some distance and then takes to wing, flying heavily, but without
any of the whirring noise of the true Gallinaceæ. It seldom takes a
long flight, and usually perches on a tree, remaining there in a
crouching attitude with outstretched neck, but flying off again upon
observing any motion made by its pursuer; and it is only by
cautiously sneaking up under cover of the largest trees that it can be
approached within gunshot. As an example of its shyness, I may
mention that a party of three persons scattered about in a jungle on
Nago Island for the purpose of shooting the Megapodius did not see
a single bird, although they put up several, one of which came
towards me and perched, unconscious of my presence, within
twenty yards. At Port Essington I have shot this bird among
mangroves, the roots of which were washed by the sea at high
water; and Captain F. P. Blackwood killed one while running on the
mud in a similar locality, in both instances close to a mound."
Gilbert also confirms the statement that it is found near the shore.
The Megapode, he says, is almost exclusively confined to the dense
thickets immediately adjacent to the sea-beach; it appears never to
go far inland, except along the banks of creeks. It is always met with
in pairs, or quite solitary, and feeds on the ground, its food
consisting of roots, which its powerful claws enable it to scratch up
with the utmost facility, and also of seeds, berries, and insects,
particularly the larger species of Coleoptera. He did not himself
detect any note or cry, but, from the natives' description of it, it
much resembles the clucking of a Domestic Fowl, ending with a
scream like that of the Peacock. The mounds are very different, both
as regards situation, size, and composition. They usually stand near
the edge of water; some are composed of sand and shell, while
others contain vegetable mould and decaying wood. Gilbert found
one fifteen feet in height and sixty in circumference at the base, and
another which covered a space of at least a hundred and fifty feet in
circumference, and Macgillivray speaks of one of similar height and
extent. It is most probable that these mounds are the work of
several generations; whether each mound is resorted to by more
than one pair, Mr. Macgillivray had not the means of ascertaining.
"Some of them," he observes, "are evidently very ancient, trees
being often seen growing from their sides. In one instance I found a
tree which was a foot in diameter growing from the middle of a
mound." The holes containing the eggs sometimes commence at the
outer edge of the summit, and slope down obliquely, towards the
centre, and sometimes run in an oblique direction from the centre
towards the outer slope of the hillock. The eggs lie six feet deep
from the summit, but only two or three feet from the side. "The
natives," says Gilbert, "dig them up with their hands alone, and only
make sufficient room to admit their bodies and to throw out the
earth between their legs; their patience is, however, often put to
severe trials, for they often dig down to a depth of six or seven feet
without finding an egg, and are quite exhausted by their vain
attempts. The eggs are placed in a perpendicular position, the larger
end uppermost; they differ in size, but in form they assimilate; they
are three inches and five lines long, by two inches and three lines
broad. The composition of the mound appears to influence the
colouring of a thin epidermis with which the eggs are covered, and
which readily chips off, showing the true shell to be white; those
deposited in the black soil are always of a dark reddish brown, while
those from the sandy hillocks near the beach are of a dirty yellowish
white. The natives affirm that the eggs are deposited at night, at
intervals of several days." The exit of the young bird from the egg
was not seen either by Macgillivray or Gilbert, but the latter found a
young bird in a hole about two feet deep, lying on a few withered
leaves, which appeared to be only a few days old. Gilbert took great
care of the bird, intending to rear it, and placed it in a moderate-
sized box containing a large quantity of sand. It fed freely on bruised
corn, but was so wild and intractable that it would not reconcile itself
to confinement, and escaped on the third day. While in captivity, it
was incessantly occupied in scratching up the sand into heaps, and
throwing it from one end of the box to the other with a rapidity quite
surprising for so young and small a bird, its size not exceeding that
of a small Quail. At night it was so noisy in its efforts to escape that
its captor was kept constantly awake. In scratching up the sand it