when descending the Murrumbidgee, in Australia, saw two emus in the act of swimming. The inhabitants who live in the country readily distinguish, even at a distance, the male bird from the female. The former is larger and darker coloured,[25] and has a larger head. The ostrich, I believe the cock, emits a singular, deep-toned, hissing note. When first I heard it, standing in the midst of some sand-hillocks, I thought it was made by some wild beast, for it is a sound that one cannot tell whence it comes, or from how far distant. When we were at Bahia Blanca in the months of September and October, the eggs were found, in extraordinary numbers, all over the country. They either lie scattered single, in which case they are never hatched, and are called by the Spaniards, huachos, or they are collected together into a shallow excavation, which forms the nest. Out of the four nests which I saw, three contained twenty-two eggs each, and the fourth twenty-seven. In one day’s hunting on horseback sixty-four eggs were found; forty-four of these were in two nests, and the remaining twenty scattered huachos. The Gauchos unanimously affirm, and there is no reason to doubt their statement, that the male bird alone hatches the eggs, and for some time afterwards accompanies the young. The cock when on the nest lies very close; I have myself almost ridden over one. It is asserted that at such times they are occasionally fierce, and even dangerous, and that they have been known to attack a man on horseback, trying to kick and leap on him. My informer pointed out to me an old man, whom he had seen much terrified by one chasing him. I observe, in Burchell’s Travels in South Africa, that he remarks, “having killed a male ostrich, and the feathers being dirty, it was said by the Hottentots to be a nest bird.” I understand that the male emu, in the Zoological Gardens, takes care of the nest: this habit therefore is common to the family.[26]