40 MUTTON BIRDS 



Sea Hen, Skua, and Sea Hawk are other island 

 names for this great gull, the first quite well 

 describing its appearance when seen in attitudes 

 of repose on sand or rock. The last designa- 

 tion is apt, too, for the nature of the bird is 

 predatory and fierce, and, furthermore, at least 

 one of his aerial positions most hawk-like. 



The excitement of a Sea Hawk once aroused is 

 not immediately allayed by the retirement of 

 the intruder. I have bored my way — a lengthy 

 process always — through the centre belt of bush 

 and nettle to reach the other coast of the island, 

 and yet have seen upon emerging into open 

 ground, the still vexed birds sweeping in long 

 beats to and fro above their grey nestlings 

 crouching in the gale. 



Thus separated by the island's width I have 

 watched the Sea Hawk poised for long like a 

 Windhover in the air, its fully-extended legs 

 straightened beneath it, as are momentarily a 

 Harrier's when voiding its excrement. 



Although the Sea Hawk will pounce and swoop 

 in a really terrifying manner, neither sex will, as 

 will the female of the New Zealand Falcon, 

 stand on guard over the nestlings and seem to 

 consent to share their fate; nor will either bird 

 dare, in my experience, actually to strike. 



I had much wanted to study the Sea Hawk at 

 close quarters, but on account of the parent 

 gulls' disinclination to approach their chicks, 

 nothing could be done in the time available. 



During this November visit to Herekopere — 

 a favourite Mutton Bird resort be it re- 

 membered — the inflight of that species lasted 

 rarely more than about thirty minutes. Nor 

 could there, I think, have been more than a few 



