hissing, spitting, and fluttering of wings, at me dashed a Bower-Bird. She was violently agitated, and almost brushed my face with her wings, uttering at the same time loud, clear notes, imitations of the cry of the Black-throated Butcher-Bird. I was soon up to the nest, which was barely 15 feet from the ground. I cautiously felt inside. There were two eggs. I raised one into view; it was a typical Bower-Bird's egg. Down I went for cloth cap and wadding, and soon had the satisfaction of gazing on two perfect specimens of these rare and little-known eggs. They were similar to eggs of C. maculata, but hardly so glossy—the ground colour a delicate French grey or greenish-grey. The markings were of various shades of brown. The lighter brown markings were in the form of continuous lines, wound in and out, in a more or less circular manner, around the wider part of the shell. The darker markings were in the form of irregular blotches of colour, but they are hardly so bright and pronounced as in typical eggs of C. maculata. In shape this pair may be described as slightly elongated ovals, with no very great distinction between either end. The eggs were quite fresh. It will be convenient to give the measurements here:—Specimen a, 1.48 x 1.07 inches; b, 1.52 x 1.05 inches. The nest was near the top of the casuarina tree, and was outwardly an irregular-shaped structure of dried and black twigs. The cup was fairly well defined, but rather shallow. It had a lining of fine twigs, with a few casuarina needles. The lining was sufficiently substantial to hide the contents of the nest from below. After I had robbed the nest the parent bird quietened down and made no further hostile demonstration towards me. As I packed the eggs she remained sitting on a neighbouring branch.
There was a point to be cleared up concerning the plumage of the female. In Hall's "Key"—compiled largely from the British Museum "Catalogue of Birds"—the female of C. maculata is said to have no lilac band, and as nothing is said to the contrary in referring to the female of C. guttata, we may assume, too, that she in turn was thought to possess no lilac band. Now, during my close watching of the party of seven at the acacia thicket I became aware that three of the performers possessed this so-called lilac band. Two of them, however, were much less strongly marked in this respect than the adult male I called the stage manager. From his behaviour towards one of these individuals I felt sure the latter was a female. Now was the opportunity to prove my theory. Though very loth to do it, I shot this bird. I had to take into consideration the scepticism too often meted out to the field naturalist when his observations are unsupported by tangible evidence. On dissection, my suspicions proved to be correct—she was a fully adult female. Whilst on this subject, let me repeat that the colour of this nuchal band is not lilac, but in these East Murchison birds of a vivid pink, with just a suspicion of silvery-lilac when viewed in certain lights. In the female it is much smaller than in the male, and rather difficult to detect when the bird is in repose. The same is the case with the male, the band in both sexes then appearing as a narrow longitudinal stripe, rather more conspicuous in the male than in the female. Immature birds possess no trace of this colouration whatever; but a male, probably in his second year and non-breeding, showed as much colour as an adult female. The plumage of the adult male in my birds is black on the upper parts, with a slight velvety gloss. The spots, which are most numerous near the hind neck but largest on the greater coverts, vary from fawn-
