h was not securely covered by night. These birds are the
most persistent thieves, nearly as large as a common fowl, of a browny
colour, gamy looking, with long legs and very short wings, the latter
only serving to assist them in running, for they cannot fly. They are to
be found in every New Zealand bush, and unless travellers take the
precaution to place provisions or any articles, edible or not, out of
their reach, they will not long remain in ignorance of their proximity.
When living in the forest I have frequently amused myself killing these
birds in the following manner, while sitting at my camp fire at night. I
procured two short sticks, at the end of one I attached a bit of red
cloth or rag to be used as a lure. They are the most curious birds in
existence, and this together with their thieving propensities is so
powerful that when their desires for appropriation are excited they
possess little or no fear. I would sit by the fire holding out the red
rag, when in a few moments a slight rustle would be heard from the
branches. After a little the bird would step boldly into the open
firelight stretching his neck and cocking his head knowingly as he
approached in a zig-zag way the object of his curiosity and desire.

So soon as he would come sufficiently near, and his attention was taken
up with the bright object he hoped to possess, whack would descend the
other stick on his head, and his mortal career of theft was at an end.
Then I would roast the two drumsticks, having separated them from the
body, skinning them, and eating them for supper; they are the only part
of the bird fit for food.

The remainder of the body is boiled down for oil, which is invaluable
for boots of any kind, making them waterproof and pliable.

I have frequently killed six or eight weekas in a single evening at my
camp fire. I did not, however, eat all the drumsticks.

We were up betimes, and after a hearty breakfast started for our last
pull to the head of the lake, which we reached in the forenoon. The
heaviest part of the work, however, had yet to come--namely, pulling the
boat a mile up the stream which flows into the lake. This was
unavoidable, as the land each side was an impassable swamp. For the last
half-mile the current was so swift we could make no headway against it
with the oars, and the water being only from one to two feet deep, we
got out and waded, hauling the boat by hand to the landing place. Here
we had to transfer pro