Volume I Part 23 (2/2)

The first of these which came under my notice was an enormous black parrot (Microglossus aterrimus) with crimson cheeks; at Cape York it feeds upon the cabbage of various palms, stripping down the sheath at the base of the leaves with its powerful, acutely-hooked upper mandible. The next in order of occurrence was a third species of the genus Tanysiptera (T. sylvia) a gorgeous kingfisher with two long, white, central tail-feathers, inhabiting the brushes, where the glancing of its bright colours as it darts past in rapid flight arrests the attention for a moment ere it is lost among the dense foliage.

(*Footnote. Many of these have since been figured and described, with accompanying notes on their habits, etc., in the recently published Supplement to Mr. Gould's Birds of Australia.)

I may next allude to Aplonis metallica--a bird somewhat resembling a starling, of a dark glossy green and purple hue, with metallic reflections--in connection with its singular nest. One day I was taken by a native to the centre of a brush, where a gigantic cotton-tree standing alone was hung with about fifty of the large pensile nests of this species.

NATIVE BIRD-NESTING.

After I had made several unsuccessful attempts to shoot down one of the nests by firing with ball at the supporting branch, the black volunteered to climb the tree, provided I would give him a knife. I was puzzled to know how he proposed to act, the trunk being upwards of four feet in diameter at the base, and the nearest branch being about sixty feet from the ground. He procured a tough and pliant shoot of a kind of vine (Cissus) of sufficient length to pa.s.s nearly round the tree, and holding one end of this in each hand and pressing his legs and feet against the tree, he ascended by a series of jerks, resting occasionally, holding on for half a minute at a time with one end of the vine in his mouth. At length he reached the branches and threw me down as many nests as I required. He afterwards filled the bag which he carried round his neck with the unfledged young birds, which on our return to the native camp on the beach were thrown alive upon the fire, in spite of my remonstrances, and when warmed through were devoured with great apparent relish by himself and his friends.

A NEW BOWERBIRD.

Two days before we left Cape York I was told that some bowerbirds had been seen in a thicket, or patch of low scrub, half a mile from the beach, and after a long search I found a recently constructed bower, four feet long and eighteen inches high, with some fresh berries lying upon it. The bower was situated near the border of the thicket, the bushes composing which were seldom more than ten feet high, growing in smooth sandy soil without gra.s.s.

Next morning I was landed before daylight, and proceeded to the place in company with Paida, taking with us a large board on which to carry off the bower as a specimen. I had great difficulty in inducing my friend to accompany me, as he was afraid of a war party of Gomokudins, which tribe had lately given notice that they were coming to fight the Evans Bay people. However I promised to protect him, and loaded one barrel with ball, which gave him increased confidence, still he insisted upon carrying a large bundle of spears and a throwing-stick. Of late Paida's tribe have taken steps to prevent being surprised by their enemies. At night they remove in their canoes to the neighbouring island Rob.u.mo, and sleep there, returning in the morning to the sh.o.r.e, and take care not to go away to a distance singly or unarmed.

While watching in the scrub I caught several glimpses of the tewinya (the native name) as it darted through the bushes in the neighbourhood of the bower, announcing its presence by an occasional loud churrrr, and imitating the notes of various other birds, especially the leatherhead. I never before met with a more wary bird, and for a long time it enticed me to follow it to a short distance, then flying off and alighting on the bower, it would deposit a berry or two, run through, and be off again (as the black told me) before I could reach the spot. All this time it was impossible to get a shot. At length, just as my patience was becoming exhausted, I saw the bird enter the bower and disappear, when I fired at random through the twigs, fortunately with effect. So closely had we concealed ourselves latterly, and so silent had we been, that a kangaroo while feeding actually hopped up within fifteen yards, unconscious of our presence until fired at. My bowerbird proved to be a new species, since described by Mr. Gould as Chlamydera cerviniventris, and the bower is exhibited in the British Museum.

Among the gamebirds of Cape York, the emu is ent.i.tled to the first rank.

Only two or three, however, were seen, and we were not fortunate enough to procure one. One day an emu allowed me to approach within fifty yards by stalking it cautiously, holding up a large green bough before me, when, becoming alarmed, it darted in its fright into a thicket and was lost to view.

BRUSH TURKEY.

Many brush turkeys (Talegalla lathami) were shot by our sportsmen, and scarcely a day pa.s.sed on which the natives did not procure for us some of their eggs. The mode in which these and other eggs are cooked by the blacks is to roll them up in two or three large leaves, and roast them in the ashes; the eggs burst, of course, but the leaves prevent the contents from escaping. Both bird and eggs are excellent eating; the latter, averaging three and a half inches in length, of a pure white colour, are deposited in low mounds of earth and leaves in the dense brushes in a similar manner to those of the megapodius, and are easily dug out with the hand. I have seen three or four taken out of one mound where they were arranged in a large circle, a foot and a half from the surface. The laying bird carefully effaces any mark she may have made in scooping out a place for the eggs, but the keen eye of a native quickly detects the slightest sign of recent disturbance of the mound, and he seldom fails to hit upon the eggs.

SEASONS.

As at Port Essington, the year at Cape York is divided into two seasons,*

the dry and the rainy. From personal observation and other sources of information, it would appear that the limits and duration of these admit of so much variation that it is impossible to determine with certainty, even within a month, when one ceases and the other begins. It would appear however that the dry season, characterised by the prevalence of the south-east trade, usually terminates in November, the change having for some time previous been indicated by calms, light winds, sometimes from the westward, a gloomy unsettled appearance in the weather, and occasional showers--violent squalls of wind and rain are frequent about this time until the westerly breezes set in, when the weather becomes moderate with frequent rain, occasionally very heavy, and intervals, often of many days duration, of dry weather. In the month of March the south-east trade usually resumes its former influence, the change being often attended with the same thick squally weather, and perhaps a gale from the north-west, which ushered in the westerly monsoon.

(*Footnote. The natives of the neighbouring Prince of Wales Island distinguish the dry season (aibu or the fine weather) the wet (kuki or the North-West wind which then prevails) and the period of change (malgui) equivalent to our Spring and Autumn.)

WINDS.

Our own experience of the winds during our last stay at Cape York, at the period when the change of the monsoon was to be expected, may be summed up as follows. During the month of October the trade-wind prevailed, keeping pretty steady at East-South-East, and generally blowing rather strongly, with hazy weather and an occasional shower. For three days in the middle of the month we experienced light north-westerly winds dying away again in the evening, and on the 25th a violent squall from the same quarter accompanied by very heavy rain rendered it expedient that the s.h.i.+p should next day be moved a cable's length further offsh.o.r.e. During the four last days in the month we had calms and light winds from the northward of east, as if the trade were about to cease, but it commenced afresh and continued until the 26th of November, generally very moderate, with fine weather. During the last six days of our stay we had light airs from about North-West, succeeded in the evening by a slight puff of south-easterly wind followed by a calm lasting all night. Last year, during the month of October, we experienced no northerly or westerly winds, but a moderate trade prevailed throughout, pretty steady at East-South-East, but varying much in strength.

TEMPERATURE.

In a place situated like Cape York, only about 640 miles distant from the equator, the atmospheric temperature may be expected to be very high; still the heat, although occasionally very oppressive for a time, caused very different sensations from those experienced during the almost stifling calms of Port Essington. At Cape York, however, calms seldom lasted above a few hours, as from its peninsular position the land receives the full influence of nearly every breeze. An abstract of the thermometrical observations made on board the Rattlesnake shows the following results:

COLUMN 1: DATE.

COLUMN 2: AVERAGE TEMPERATURE IN DEGREES AND MINUTES.

COLUMN 3: AVERAGE MAXIMUM TEMPERATURE IN DEGREES AND MINUTES.

COLUMN 4: AVERAGE MINIMUM TEMPERATURE IN DEGREES AND MINUTES.

October 1848 : 81 : 85 : 77 5.

October 1849 : 81 : 83 8 : 78 7.

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