Australian Search Party | Page 9

Charles Henry Eden
are
found bleached bones, broken oyster, snail, and cowrie shells, and not
unfrequently, in the more civilised districts, pieces of coloured rag, and
fragments of ribbon pilfered from some neighbouring station, for, in
search of attractive objects to decorate his playground, the bower-bird
entirely ignores the eighth commandment, and, I fear, justifies the
somewhat strong expression of "d--d thief" which Ferdinand bestowed
on him. Indeed, so well are his filching propensities known to the
natives, that they make a practice of searching the runs whenever any
small article of value is missing, and often succeed in recovering the
lost object.
I find that I have been using the pronoun 'he' hitherto, whilst describing
this insatiable love of finery, but on reflection I cannot but think that I
am utterly wrong, and that when more is known of the domestic
arrangements of the bower-bird, it will be found that the lady alone is
responsible for this meretricious taste, and that the poor 'he', whom I
have so unblushingly accused, is in reality gathering berries and fruit
for the little ones, guiltless of the slightest inclination towards picking
and stealing.
These birds live and thrive in confinement, and busy themselves
immensely in the construction of runs, but they never multiply whilst
captive. Indeed, the place and manner of their breeding is as yet a
mystery, for, so skilful are they in concealment, that even the lynx-eyed
blacks have failed to discover their next.
We found the descent to the boat incomparably preferable to the
tedious climb of two hours previous, and, thanks to the promise of a
"nobbler of rum each," Cato and Ferdinand transported my precious
"run" in safety to the stern-sheets; the sun having then sunk in crimson

beauty behind the coast-range, and the breeze having fallen to the
faintest whisper, we shoved off, and pulled leisurely over the calm bay
to Cardwell, arriving about ten o'clock, to hear the welcome news that
the 'Daylight' would be ready for us on the following afternoon.
HOW WE EXPLORED HINCHINBROOK ISLAND.
The sun was just showing above the distant sea-line, and the bay was
lying motionless as a mirror, with a rosy hue thrown across its placid
surface, when I awoke on the following morning, stiff from the clamber
of the preceding day. The short half-hour before the rays of the sun
have attained an unpleasant fierceness is most enjoyable in Australia,
particularly in a wild region such as Cardwell, where birds, beasts, and
fishes pursue their daily avocations, heedless of the presence of man.
My house was situated at the extreme north end of the township, and
far apart from the nearest dwelling -- so much so, in fact, that it was
only by a stretch of the imagination that I could say I was included
within the village boundary. On the side farthest from the settlement
lay the virgin bush, whilst outside the garden at the back, all was wild
and rude as Nature had left it, except a small clearing I had made for
the growth of maize, sweet potatoes, etc. Now this clearing had many
enemies, and of many species, ranging from feathered and furred to
biped. The cockatoos came down in such clouds as almost to whiten
the ground, and made short work of the maize; the bandicoots and the
township pigs dug up and devoured the sweet potatoes, just as they
were becoming large enough for use -- commend me to your
half-starved pig to find out in a moment where the juiciest and finest
esculent lies buried -- and the chattering little opossums stripped the
peach-trees of their wealth, in which labour of love they were eagerly
assisted by the flying-foxes during the night, whilst any that had
escaped these nocturnal depredators became the spoil of two or three
idle boys, who loafed about all day, seeking mischief, and, as always
happens, succeeding in finding it, even in this sequestered region. From
this it will be seen that my efforts in the direction of husbandry were
attended with some difficulty, and, despite a real liking for the animal
world, I had imbibed a holy hatred of that particular section of its
society which insisted on devouring my substance under my very nose,
only retreating to the nearest tree until my back was turned, and then
resuming operations with unblushing effrontery. By way of a mild

vengeance, I had got into the habit of coming out every morning
directly I awoke, with my gun, and easing off both barrels amongst the
cockatoos, wallabies, or whatever particular class of robbers happened
to be afield at the moment -- a practice which served as a safety-valve
for my injured feelings, whilst at the same time it provided me with a
cockatoo pie, or a good bowl of kangaroo-tail soup.
Once,
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