the most silent and unobtrusive bird I have yet encountered in Western Australia. Occasionally one may unexpectedly flush an individual in some more or less frequented spot; but as a rule to find these birds one must go to the undisturbed flats and systematically tramp through all the closely-growing vegetation, and, if in luck, an odd bird, or at times even a pair, may be flushed, with a startling suddenness, into a flight of 40 or 50 yards, when they drop into the herbage again just as suddenly as they rose. I have never seen this species fly at a greater height than 8 or 9 feet. The flight is slightly undulatory, but very different to that of ordinary Parrots, the wings being very rapidly beaten at intervals, with periods of gliding flight more like that of a Quail between, the tips of the wings being pointed downwards like those of the latter bird. It never flies any great distance, and when about to alight appears to fall headlong to the ground. Usually it can be flushed again if followed immediately, as it does not appear to run along after alighting. Once or twice I have been able to watch a bird at close quarters. Despite its long legs, it does not appear very active on the ground, but it certainly moves with more grace and greater ease than the average Parrot, the awkward, waddling gait of the latter being quite absent.
The early settlers in this district tell me this species is not so frequently seen as formerly. Common, in the true sense of the term, I can hardly believe it ever was, and, with the numbers of large lizards haunting the flats, the wonder is it has not been exterminated years ago. Mr. James Knapp, who was born in this district over fifty years ago, states that as a boy he has more than once marked a bird down, and by carefully crawling on hands and knees has knocked it over with a stick. He attributes the diminishing numbers of these beautiful Parrots to Quail-shooters; but there are many square miles of flats as absolutely undisturbed now as they were fifty years ago. Bush-fires are probably more frequent now than formerly, and in dry seasons there may be some destruction of young not yet strong enough on the wing to escape.
In the spring of 1912 I spent many tiring hours tramping the flats on behalf of Mr. H. L. White, of Belltrees, N.S.W., in quest of the eggs of this species. Though I not infrequently flushed the birds, it was not until after weeks of plodding search that I discovered a nest containing two young birds a few days old. This was on 20th October. The nesting-site was on a low but dry ridge, thickly clothed with herbage, amongst which a few small, rounded, prickly bushes were growing—probably a species of dwarf Hakea. A slight hollow had been scratched out by the parents and scantily lined with dry grasses. The young birds uttered feeble and querulous cries when handled. Their bodies were clothed with a neutral-tinted down, with beak, legs, and feet lead-coloured. I photographed them as they lay in the nest. I saw absolutely nothing of the parents, nor could I flush them near at hand.
