"Although, unfortunately," continues Mr. Gould, "I was almost too late for the breeding season, I nevertheless saw several of these hatching mounds, both in the interior of New South Wales and at Illawarra. In every instance they were placed in the most retired and shady glens and on the slope of a hill, the part above the mound being scratched clean, while all below remained untouched, as if the birds had found it more easy to convey the materials down than to throw them up. The eggs are perfectly white, of a long oval form, three inches and three-quarters long, by two inches and a half in diameter."
In the Gardens of the Zoological Society in the Regent's Park, several old birds have constructed mounds, in which they deposited eggs, and their young have become developed.
"In the year 1854," says Mr. Sclater, "the singular phenomenon of the mound-raising faculty of the Tallegallus, which had been well ascertained in Australia by Mr. Gould, was effectually displayed by a pair of birds.
"On being removed into a sufficiently large enclosure, with an abundance of vegetable material within reach, the male began at once to throw it up into a heap behind him, by a scratching motion of his powerful feet, which projected each footful as he grasped it for a considerable distance in the rear. As he always began to work at the outer margin of the enclosure, the material was thrown inwards in concentric circles until it sufficiently neared the spot selected for the mound to be jerked upon it. As soon as the mound had risen to a height of about four feet, both birds worked in reducing it to an even surface, and then began to excavate a depression in the centre. In this in due time the eggs were placed, as they were laid, and arranged in a circle about fifteen inches below the summit of the mound, at regular intervals, with the smaller end of the egg pointing downwards. The male bird watched the temperature of the mound very carefully; the eggs were generally covered, a cylindrical opening being always maintained in the centre of the circle for the purpose of giving air to them, and probably to prevent the danger of a sudden increase of heat from the action of the sun, or accelerated fermentation in the mound itself. In hot days the eggs were nearly uncovered two or three times between morning and evening. In about a month after the first egg was supposed to have been laid a young bird was hatched, and is still living with its parents. Subsequent observation enables us to state that on the young bird chipping out of the egg, it remains in the mound for at least twelve hours, without making any effort to emerge from it, being at that time almost as deeply covered up as the rest of the eggs. On the second day it comes out with each of its wing-feathers well developed in a sheath which soon bursts, but apparently it has no inclination to use them, its powerful feet at once giving it ample means of locomotion. Early in the afternoon the young bird retires to the mound again, and is partially covered up for the night by the assiduous father, but at a diminished depth as compared with the circle of eggs from which it emerged in the morning. On the third day the nestling is capable of flight, and one of them accidentally forced its way through the strong netting which covered the enclosure."
In its native woods this species lives in small companies like other Gallinæ, and while on the ground appears shy and distrustful, but quite fearless when in the trees. "While stalking about the trees," says Mr. Gould, "the Tallegallus utters a rather loud clucking noise, but whether this sound is only produced by the female I could not ascertain; still, I think that such is the case, and that the spiteful male, who appears to delight in expanding his richly-coloured fleshy wattles and unmercifully thrashing his helpmate, is generally mute. In various parts of the brush I observed depressions in the earth, which the natives informed me were made by the birds in dusting themselves."
When disturbed, the Wattled Tallegallus readily eludes pursuit by the facility with which it runs through the tangled brush. If hard pressed, or when rushed upon by its great enemy the native dog, it springs upon the lowermost bough of some neighbouring tree, and by a succession of leaps from branch to branch ascends to the top, and either perches there or flies off to another part of the brush. It has also the habit of resorting to the branches of trees as a shelter from the mid-day sun, a peculiarity that greatly tends to its destruction; for, like the Ruffed Grouse of America, when assembled in small companies, these birds will allow a succession of shots to be fired until they are all brought down. Unless some measures be adopted for their preservation, this circumstance must lead to an early extinction of this singular species—an event much to be regretted, since, independently of its being an interesting object for the aviary, it is an excellent bird for the table.
THE MALEO.
The MALEO (Megacephalon Maleo) is characterised by a hard, round excrescence that commences at the nostrils and passes over the brow to the back of the head. The powerful beak is ridged at its culmen, and has the margin of the lower mandible almost straight; the third quill in the shell-shaped wing is longer than the rest; the rounded tail is composed of eighteen feathers, and the strong foot furnished with short toes. The plumage on the back, a band on the breast, and the region of the vent and thighs are blackish brown, and the breast and belly pale rose-red. The eye is yellow, the bare part of the head whitish blue, the occipital protuberance blue; the beak and the fore part of the foot are horn-grey. This species is twenty-four inches long; the wing measures eleven and the tail eight inches.
"In the months of August and September," says Wallace, "when there is little or no rain, the Maleos come down in pairs from the interior to one or two favourite spots, and scratch holes three or four feet deep, just above high-water mark, where the female deposits a single large egg, which she covers with about a foot of sand, and then returns to the forest. At the end of ten or twelve days she comes again to the same spot to lay another egg, and each female bird is supposed to lay six or eight eggs during the season. The male assists the female in making the hole, coming down and returning with her. The appearance of these birds when walking on the beach is very handsome. The glossy black and rosy white of the plumage, the helmeted head, and elevated tail, like that of the Common Fowl, give a striking character, which their stately and somewhat sedate walk renders still more remarkable. There is hardly any difference between the sexes, except that the casque or bonnet at the back of the head and the tubercles at the nostrils are a little larger, while the beautiful rosy salmon-colour is perhaps deeper in the male bird; but the difference is so slight that it is not always possible to tell a male from a female without dissection. They run quickly, but when shot at or suddenly disturbed take wing with a heavy noisy flight to some neighbouring tree, where they settle on a low branch; they probably roost at night in a similar situation. Many females lay in the same hole, for a dozen eggs are often found together, and these are so large that it is not possible for the body of the bird to contain more than one fully-developed egg at the same time. In all the female birds which I shot," continues this author, "none of the eggs besides the one large one exceeded the size of peas, and there were only eight or nine of these, which is possibly the extreme number a bird can lay in the season.