^"'- ^''1 M'I,KAN, Bush-Birds of Neiv Zealand. 13 



111 early winter mice became a i)laguc about tlic camps, and 

 were, latL-r. displaced by rats, which, though not so numerous, 

 were a nuisance too, especially on wet nights, when they came 

 inside and left muddy footprints, or scampered overhead between 

 the tent and fly. As these rodents increased about the place, so 

 did the Owls ; but we could well afford to put uj) with the latter's 

 disturbance of the silence, and were pleased when wc heard the 

 squeal of a captured rat outside. The surface of this ridge was 

 a network, a foot or more in depth, of spongy roots and rootlets ; 

 and in this secure retreat these rodents lived, venturing out at 

 night to prowl about and feed upon whatever scraj)s they found, 

 and it was upon these animals that the Morepork chiefly preyed. 

 Although odd pieces of meat were deposited at the scrap-heap, 

 I do not think the Owls came for anything else but the rats and 

 mice which fed there. However, on one occasion an Owl was 

 blamed — and I think rightly — for sampling our steak from a 

 hind-quarter hung high in a birch. 



Not only in hollow trees does the Morepork pass the day, but 

 also, in the denser parts, under masses of overhanging vines or 

 " kie-kie." They were also noticed in the felled timber, where 

 dark recesses were formed in the gullies by piled-up trunks and 

 branches. There they were secure — until the lire. Usually only 

 single birds were disturbed, but occasionally pairs were met 

 with, and it was noticeable how close they kept to one another. 

 Such have been seen, in day time — of course, in a gloomy part — 

 to follow each other from perch to perch, when I intentionally 

 disturbed them to see if they would separate. On rare occasions, 

 in late afternoon or when the sky is much overcast, the notes 

 of an Owl may be heard for a moment or two ; but it is not 

 until the real change to dusk has come that the Owl, preparatory 

 to launching off through the trees, fairly starts his calls. The 

 notes, though a little variable, are unmistakable, and night is 

 usually heralded by the deliberate cry from which the Morepork 

 takes its name. This, with the second syllable slightly accentuated, 

 may be repeated at regular intervals, usually five or six times. 



On 26th September, 1906, one was unusually vociferous near 

 the camp. " First he opened with the usual ' More-pork,' and one 

 spell of calling consisted of the word uttered 36 times (about twice 

 in every three seconds), before a short spell of three or four minutes. 

 Then he went on for 42 calls, then flew a short distance and called 

 the gruff note for a minute. Again he called ' More-pork ' 41 

 times, after which I heard him no more." This gruff note is like 

 the first syllable of the usual call rapidly repeated for long 

 stretches at a time. When two or three of these birds are giving 

 a concert over the tent, it can be imagined how weird it sounds. 

 It has been remarked that when called repeatedly for some time 

 these notes, after about six or eight repetitions, are dropped about 

 half a note, and continued thus without variation to the end. 

 Some slight difference in pitch is also noticeable with different 

 birds. Judging by the hooting over our tents, they sometimes 



