Then the horsemen were spread out in the manner already mentioned, and the bird was started out of a little clump of timber where they had taken shelter. Harry and Ned were surprised to see the manner in which he ran. He seemed to be ready to drop with exhaustion, and Harry confidently predicted that he would fall dead from fright before going a mile. But somehow he managed to keep in advance of his pursuers, and whenever they quickened their pace he quickened his, but all the time keeping up the appearance of weariness. The last of the horsemen, however, approached within two hundred yards of the emu, who was by this time really tired. Then the dogs were turned loose, and they speedily overtook the bird and pulled him down. One of the dogs was quite severely injured in the fight with the bird, but his wounds were dressed and bandaged, and his owners said he would soon be well again.
The emu is called the Australian ostrich, and he resembles that bird in being unable to fly, running with great rapidity and using his feet for fighting purposes. He strikes a heavy blow with his foot, and a single stroke of it is sufficient to disable a dog or break a man’s leg. The young man who accompanied Harry told him that he knew of an instance where an emu was chased and overtaken by a man on horseback, accompanied by dogs. The bird became desperate at finding he could not escape. As the horse approached, the bird threw itself on its back and kicked savagely, ripping the side of the animal with its claws. The horse was so badly lacerated that it was necessary to shoot him.
If caught when young or hatched out from an egg, the emu can be easily domesticated, but he is a dangerous pet to have about the premises. Like the ostrich, it has a love for bright things, and has been known to swallow silver spoons and other shining articles. One day a stranger, standing close to the fence of a yard where a tame emu was kept, took out his gold watch to ascertain the time. The bird was attracted by the glittering object, and with a quick motion he seized it and dropped it down his throat. Several black fellows were called, who secured the bird with some difficulty, poured a powerful emetic into his stomach, and then hung him up by the feet. This heroic treatment had the desired effect, and restored the watch to its owner.
The eggs of the emu are in demand as great curiosities, and Australian jewelers work them into various ornamented articles and sell them readily at a high price. The perpetual hunt for the eggs, which is kept up by the blacks, is steadily diminishing the number of these birds, and, in course of time, there is danger that they will become extinct.
Another bird that was seen by our friends, but not captured, is the one known as the native companion. It is a large bird, belonging to the crane family. Its head stands about three feet from the ground, its legs are long, and its plumage is a lavender gray. It is rarely seen alone, there being generally two of them together, and very often a dozen or more. In this instance there were two birds, which went away rapidly on their wings and were soon lost to sight. When there is a large number of them together, they indulge in a series of evolutions which have a close resemblance to the movements of accomplished dancers. They advance, recede, turn, return, and go through a variety of figures like dancers in the quadrille or the minuet. Sometimes they keep up these performances for an hour or more, and seem to indulge in them entirely for the sake of amusement.
Harry asked if they would have an opportunity to see the famous lyre bird of Australia. “We saw two of them,” said he, “in the Zoo at Melbourne, and therefore, know what their appearance is, but we would like very much to see them in their wild state.”
“The lyre bird is getting very scarce in Australia,” said their young friend, “and I have never seen one in this locality. The bird frequents mountainous regions where the forests are somewhat dense, and very rarely comes out into the open plain. It is about the size of an ordinary barnyard fowl, but looks much larger, owing to its beautiful tail, which is very long, and grows exactly in the shape of the instrument after which it is named. It is a very clever mocking bird, and will reproduce the notes of all its forest companions, but it is very shy and difficult to get at, and unless it is got when very young it cannot be domesticated.
“We have wild turkeys here,” continued their informant; “and they are very good eating; perhaps some of our party will be fortunate enough to bring down a turkey or two before we go back. There is one fowl here called the mallee bird, about the size of the pheasant, and resembling him in many ways. He generally lives near the edge of the mallee scrub, and his flesh is very much esteemed by all who have eaten it. The mallee is a gregarious bird, and at the breeding season large numbers of them come together. They collect great heaps of dry leaves, among which a number of hen birds lay their eggs, indiscriminately taking care to cover them up warmly.
“They don’t take any trouble to hatch their eggs, but leave that for the heat of the dry and decaying vegetable matter. When the time approaches for the chicks to break the shell, the male birds hover about on the watch for their appearance, and snakes, also, like to come around, in the hopes of securing a few of the tender birds as they emerge into daylight. When the chick comes out from the egg, his skin is pink and bare, and hardly a sign of a feather is visible; but within twenty-four hours, during which the feathers spread so rapidly that you can almost see their growth, the bird is fully fledged and feathered, and able to take care of itself.”
An amusing circumstance happened during the day’s excursion. Ned was the victim of it, and he did not consider it at all amusing until after it was all over. This was the way of it:—