With
Discordant Screams They Circle About, As If A Little Undetermined, And Then
Perch Upon The Topmost Branches Of The
Tallest trees, where they screech,
flap their wings, and engage in a series of either imaginary combats, or
affectionate caresses,
Until, the coast being clear, they are again enabled
to continue their repast.
A curious and indescribable wailing cry is heard in the air, singularly
depressing in its effect, and a string of some dozen black cockatoos flit
from tree to tree, the brilliant scarlet band on the tail of the male
flashing as he alternately expands and contracts it, to keep his balance
whilst extracting the sweets from the flowers of the 'Eucalypti'. Few
things present so great a contrast as the cries of these two birds - of
the same family, and so alike in everything but colour - and yet both are
disagreeable: that of the white variety from its piercing harshness, and
that of the black from an indefinable sensation of the approach of coming
evil it carries with it - at least, such is the effect it always has upon
me. On strolling to the paling and looking into the clearing - for
although my gun is in my hand, it is loaded with ball cartridge, and I do
not fire - the nimble little bandicoot scuttled away towards his hollow
log, looking so uncommonly like a well-fattened rat, that I mentally wonder
how I could ever have had the courage to eat one, and a flight of
rainbow-hued Blue Mountain parrots, who have held their ground to the last,
whirr up with a prodigious flapping of wings, and, alighting on a gum-tree,
can be seen hanging about the blossoms, head downwards, sucking out the
honey with their uncouth beaks and awkward little tongues, which seem but
badly adapted to such a delicate task.
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