196 MUTTON BIRDS 



My first thought was for the priceless picture 

 I had lost; my second, that the Cuckoo might, 

 as I then believed, return to devour the 

 remaining chicks — if indeed he had not already 

 taken the lot. 



Although, however, I crept to cover again, and 

 bulb in hand waited for long, the Cuckoo never 

 returned. When at last an examination was 

 made, instead of an empty nest, I found that 

 every chick was there, not one had been taken. 

 I acknowledge my astonishment was that of the 

 householder, who watches his home entered by a 

 burglar, yet finds that the criminal, after ample 

 leisure, has departed with empty hands. But 

 although thus proved innocent on this occasion, 

 the general depravity of the Cuckoo tribe was, 

 to my mind, very fully established by the conduct 

 of the Tits, who never again ventured near their 

 nest and allowed their little brood to perish. 



During that afternoon several times I came 

 across the bereaved pair in the neighbouring 

 thicket. It was pitiful to watch the little fellows, 

 still flying on and off the ground as if, in spite 

 of its futility, the impulse to gather food 

 persisted still. 



To reiterate, I am positive that in every way 

 the position was normal, and that each action in 

 the drama would have occurred precisely as it 

 did, had I been nowhere in the neighbourhood of 

 Stewart Island. 



The Tits, male and female, tame even on the 

 afternoon of their discovery, had become 

 perfectly indifferent to my presence on the 

 second day; equally indifferent was the hen on 

 the third day, when, if anything, the camera 



