^'■"'iqm'J M'I.kan, Bush-Birds of New Zealand. II 



coming fast over a s])ur oi' bill-top. shoots down its side to snatch 

 his luckless victim. In his |)ursuit ol the Tui and the Pigeon a 

 more direct mode of attack is emi)loyed. On the southern side, 

 where cleared country touched the hush, and esjiecially about 

 the open valley leading up to the slip, one could obtain an almost 

 unintcrru])ted view of these tactics. The Tuis were intercepted 

 as they flew across the valley from clearing to bush, the Falcon 

 cutting out from his outlook and preventing his victim from 

 darting down to cnvcv in tlic busli. The chase usually continued 

 for some minutes, until, becoming exhausted, the bird would be 

 struck down. One evening I saw a Tui killed high above the trees. 

 The smashing blow was plainly audible, and the bird at once 

 collapsed ancl fell screaming to the ground, the Falcon wheeling 

 and coming down for it immediately. On walking over he was 

 foiuid busy tearing at his prey, and, on my advancing, managed 

 to lly off down the hill with it. But as a rule the Bush-Hawk 

 will, if carefully approached, allow one within a few yards when 

 engaged in ]>lucking its prey. In the valley above mentioned 

 two pairs of these Falcons lorded it over their fellow-creatures, and 

 many a Pigeon fell. One showery day a Pigeon was seen, as is 

 their custom on such days, sitting disconsolate, and probably half- 

 asleep, upon the to})most branch of a dead tree, which, being 

 on a spur, stood high above its neighbours. One of the Falcons 

 liad seen it too, and, sailing over the valley, shot on and took it 

 in one swift onrush from behind. Patches of Pigeons' feathers 

 were frequently noticed about this valley all througli the winter. 

 Most of the killing was done at daylight or late evening, and the 

 birds did so w^ell that they refused to return to any Pigeon they 

 had killed and from which they had been disturbed. One 

 evening I came upon a Bush-Hawk with a Pigeon which was quite 

 warm. The few scattered feathers showed where the bird had 

 fallen on the grass of the open flat, but the Falcon had, as they 

 usually do, dragged the bird to the shelter of a fallen tree some 

 six or eight yards away. He left it on my approach, but sat and 

 watched me from a stump a few yards distant while I examined 

 the spoil. The marks of his talons were deep in the bird's back, 

 but only in one place. The head had been pulled off, and he 

 had started opening up the crop. The Pigeon was left where it 

 lay, but next morning not the Bush-Hawk, but a Harrier, was 

 in possession. 



Odd Harriers {Circus gouldi) worked the cleared country near 

 the bush, and if one came close enough he was sure to meet with 

 a warm reception. This in winter, not the breeding season. The 

 surprising part was that the Harriers should ever have the nerve 

 to chance a renewal of the acquaintance : but they did, and the 

 same bird has been seen in trouble on consecutive days. As a 

 rule the Bush-Hawk hunts singly, but when escorting their enemy 

 off the premises both Falcons assist. One day a Harrier was 

 seen cruising about the valley near the reserve, and in wide circles 

 was drawing nearer to the Bush-Hawks' domain. Soon the cry 



