eight years ago. His theory has received confirmation from my friend Mr. B. W. Leake, of Kellerberrin, who states that previous to the drought mentioned the Gnous were numerous in his district (some 150 miles south-east of the Wongan Hills), but that during the drought not only the Gnous but also all the smaller marsupials disappeared, and have not since been seen there. At my request, Mr. Conigrave very kindly photographed one of these nest-mounds which had been constructed in the conglomerate on a hill-brow. The photograph is here produced, and shows in the foreground, on the rim of the nest-crater, some pieces of conglomerate used in the construction of the mound. One piece measured 6 inches × 4 inches × 4 inches and weighed considerably over a pound avoirdupois.[1] Obviously the birds must have experienced great difficulty in breaking through the inhospitable and dense surface and afterwards in excavating and removing the heavy fragments. I have at all times held the opinion that these birds, in constructing these mounds, do not use their wings for transporting material, but their feet only. In the particular mound under notice it would have been impossible for the builders to have seized and transported the rock and gravel by their wings, and doubtless their stout claws were the sole agency. Whilst at the Margaret River, in the south-west of this State, I had the opportunity of seeing one of the birds at work "coning" the saucer top of the mound (see Emu, vol. ii., page 76), and on that occasion the feet only were used.
In vain Mr. Conigrave and I strained our ears to catch the sound of the inimitable notes of the Black-throated Coachwhip-Bird. The low-growing scrubs of the locality formed ideal homes for them, but evidently they had left or perished simultaneously with the Gnous. It is noteworthy that the members of both the species named are found in close companionship in the scrubs between Capes Naturaliste and Leeuwin. Notwithstanding the absence of these two feathered friends of Gilbert's, we found pleasure in meeting one of his discoveries—Malurus pulcherrimus—at its scientific "birthplace." On our first day's outing on the Hills the first two birds shot fell to my gun, the second of which was a handsome male bird of the Wren in full nuptial plumage. We found the species very numerous in the general tracts or rock patches in and about the hills. I had ample opportunity of observing them in their native haunts, and frequently brought the little families to my feet by imitating the calls of a young bird in distress. Great rivalry appears to exist between the males in their song, and on one occasion I found two of them in fierce combat. It would have been possible to shoot at least a dozen males without trouble, but after killing the second male I felt that I had done enough "murder" amongst these charming creatures. We were too
- ↑ The size of these stones is remarkable.—Eds.
