Australian Search Party | Page 8

afresh, and in a few minutes we were sweeping across the
small belt of water that separated the two islands. We approached the
shore with caution, for, as I mentioned before, the sides of Gould Island
are everywhere very steep, and hostile blacks, by simply dislodging
some of the loose masses of rock, could easily have smashed the boat
and its crew to pieces without exposing themselves to the slightest
danger. Noiselessly, and with every faculty painfully alert, we closed
the land, sprang on to the rocks, and at once set about the tedious task
of breasting the hill. Hill climbing, under the vertical sun of North
Australia, is by no means an enjoyable undertaking, more particularly
when the loose shale and rock gives way at every stride, bringing down
an avalanche of rubbish on the heads of the rearmost of the party.
Encumbered with our carbines, we made but slow progress, and it was
nearly six o'clock before we attained the summit, from whence we saw
several canoes making their way with full speed towards Hinchinbrook.
"So far then, so good," we said; "we have made certain that none of the
rascals are lurking about the two islands, and we are sure to get them
now, when we sweep Hinchinbrook."
We had now done everything that was possible until the 'Daylight' had
finished unloading, and so spread ourselves out about the island to see
if the blacks had left any of their curious implements behind them. We

were in no hurry to get back to the township, so purposed having
supper where we were, and pulling back in the cool of the evening, by
the light of the moon, which was just then in full glory. We found
plenty of traces of the blacks, the embers of their fires even still
glowing, but they had carried off everything with them, and no trophies
crowned our search of Gould Island; and yet I am wrong, for I got one
memento, which I have by me still, and which is so curious to lovers of
natural history that I am tempted to describe it. In rummaging about, I
came to a place strewed with old bones, shells, parrots' feathers, etc.,
close to which stood a platform of interwoven sticks. I was terribly
puzzled at first to account for the presence of this miniature rag and
bone depot, and my astonishment culminated when Ferdinand informed
me that --
"Bird been make it that fellow; plenty d--d thief that fellow, steal like it
pipe, like it anything."
It then flashed across me that I had fallen in with the "run" of the
bower-bird, of which I had so often heard, and had so often sought for
without success.
The satin bower-bird ('Ptilonorhynchus holosericus') belongs to the
family of starlings, and though tolerably common in New South Wales,
is but a rare visitor to the hotter climate of Northern Queensland. The
plumage of the adult male is of a glossy satin-like purple, appearing
almost black, whilst the females and the young are all of an
olive-greenish colour. The peculiarity for which this bird is generally
known, is its habit of constructing a sort of arbour of dry twigs, to act
as a playground. These bowers are usually made in some secluded
place in the bush -- not infrequently under the shady boughs of a large
tree -- and vary considerably in size, according to the number of birds
resorting to them, for they seem to be joint-stock affairs, and are not
limited to one pair. The bower itself is somewhat difficult to describe,
and a better idea can be formed from the engraving, or by visiting the
British Museum, where several are shown, than I can ever hope to set
before the reader in words. A number of sticks, most artistically woven
together, form the base, from the centre of which the walls of the
structure arise. These walls are made of lighter twigs, and considerable
pains must be taken in their selection, for they all have an inward curve,
which in some "runs" cause the sides almost to meet at the top. The

degree of forethought that these self-taught architects possess is
strikingly exemplified in the fact that, whilst building the walls, any
forks or inequalities are turned 'outwards', so as to offer no impediment
to their free passage when skylarking (if it is not an Irishism, using
such an expression with regard to a starling) and chasing each other
through and through the bower, to which innocent recreations,
according to the testimony of Messrs. Cato and Ferdinand, they devote
the major part of their time. Their love of finery and gaudy colours is
also most remarkable. Interwoven amongst the twigs of which the
bower is composed, and scattered about the ground in its vicinity,