Soon after the death of the second Curlew chick, the parents began to show signs yet again of turning broody, resuming the relentless , wondrous cycle of life . They got about together, made familiar clucking sounds , tossed leaves and twigs about , became very territorial . Late each afternoon they dashed from the backyard , down the side path and chased off the property the at times up to 15 opportunistic other Curlews hopeful of getting a feed , which they sometimes do in a scrum of balletic leaping, fully extended wings and screeching .
However, a slim bird, who may have been from an earlier clutch , suddenly appeared on the back verandah , seeking a feed in the afternoon. The male from the nesting would chase it away. Still it persisted and came back for tucker , chased about the yard until forced to fly away .
One day-there it was...another egg, bigger than any seen before , like a bantam's. As we once had some loveable Bantams, with names like Blondie and Little One, in Saddleworth, South Australia, that used to nest at night in an apple tree away from foxes , the egg brought back memories. Then another large egg . From time to time the female bird took time off sitting on the eggs to join the male chase the other birds away down the front .
The male also began to come to the back door early in the morning to be fed . During the day he would stay near the female on the eggs , drop flat when you went near , and hiss if you came close.
Sunbirds started to appear in numbers, sucking nectar from flowers . Currawongs came out in force , stealing Curlew food , dive bombing them , in turn being chased by angry , defensive, much smaller birds .
