gar or "Shell Parrot" (Melopsittacus undulatus). They may have been passing migrants.
At night I occasionally heard Parrot-like notes that I could not account for. They were uttered by some bird, as it flew around. After sunset I put in some time near telegraph posts in the hopes that whatever bird it was might perch on one of the arms, but without success. It was only on calm nights that these notes were audible, and they had an aggravating way of putting one on the alert after having turned in. On one occasion the settlers reported a Parrot seen as they were returning from work some two miles from camp. I visited the neighbourhood next morning without meeting with it, so have no idea what it was. After the heavy gales waifs of known species are not unlikely to occur.
On the plain the Australian Dottrel (Peltohyas australis) is well known. At times it is said to occur in large flocks. I met with parties nearly every day at Haig, and saw others near Loongana. The breeding season was over. I picked up the wreck of three or four birds killed by striking the telegraph wires. One I found alive with both legs broken. This proved to be an adult female that had bred earlier in the season. Moulting had commenced. The favourite haunt of this species seems to be the gentle stony rises in the plain. Here they fed and rested in small flocks, and were excessively wary. Seldom I got within a hundred yards of a party before they took to flight.
At Naretha I had the luck to find the nest of the only pair I met with. Some two miles from camp, in crossing a small bare flat, I noticed a Dottrel running away. There had been a heavy gale the previous night, and I thought this bird might have been a stray. It was not feeding, however, so I sat down to watch. In ten minutes it ran back towards me, and squatted down, at the same time keeping his head erect to watch me. I walked over to the place, and spotted the three eggs. They were just visible, being laid in a slight hollow, and nearly covered with fluffy seed vessels. I saw nothing of this bird's mate.
Quails of any species were rare at Naretha, but on the plain at Haig the Little Quail (Turnix velox) was plentiful. I found this species nesting on the grassy flats or in the long herbage on the edges of the dongas, and occasionally on the margins of the tracts of timber. Usually, the apology for a nest—a little pad of grass—was placed at the foot of a tussock of grass. On this four pretty eggs were laid. Occasionally the eggs were protected by a few fallen sticks. Some nests I found by flushing the sitting bird, others I found without any aid. Both the male and female shepherd the young. I often heard them calling their gentle "tchook-tchook" to lead the young away.
There was a second species of Quail at Haig, much less common than T. velox. It was larger, and laid as many as six eggs, somewhat like those of the Painted Quail (Turnix varia). I found one deserted nest, and another nest with the empty shells
