Marriner. — On the Natural History of the Kea. 281 



homestead of the places where the sheep are found dead, it is 

 not surprising that so few men have seen the bird actually at- 

 tacking the sheep. 



Attacking Sheep. 



Among my numerous correspondents, over thirty state that 

 they have seen the keas actually attacking sheep. These 

 witnesses do not consist only of musterers and shepherds, . but 

 in many instances they are either managers of the sheep-stations- 

 or the station-owners themselves. Summing up the different 

 accounts, the bird's mode of procedure seems as follows : 

 They may attack in ones or twos or in numbers, but usually 

 one or two birds do the killing and the others share the spoil. 

 The keas do not, as some peoj^le think, attack the sheep 

 that are in poor condition, but always seem to choose the pick 

 of the flock. The bird settles on the ground near its quarry, 

 and after hopping round for some time it leaps on to its prey,^ 

 usually on the rump. If it cannot get a firm grip with its feet 

 the movement of the sheep causes it to fall of5, but it persists 

 until it has firmly perched itself on the sheep's back. Then 

 the kea begins its operations by tearing out the wool with its 

 powerful beak, and at last gets its beak into the flesh. The 

 sheep, which for some time has been moving uneasily about, 

 gives a jump as the beak pierces the flesh, and then begins to 

 run wildly about in vain efforts to rid itself of its tormentor. 

 When, however, the sheep finds it canrtot dislodge its enemy 

 it seems to become terrified by pain and fright, and rushes 

 blindly about, usually at a high speed. Sometimes the sheep 

 tears round the flock until it is played out and cowed, when it 

 sinks to the ground and lies with its neck stretched out. a 

 picture of misery. If snow is on the ground, the poor beast 

 flounders about until it gets into a snow-drift, and then it 

 becomes an easy prey to the relentless birds. At other times 

 the terrified sheep, as if making a last despairing attempt to 

 get rid of its enemy, rushes madly forward in one direction, 

 usually downhill, at a terrific speed, quite oblivious of rocks 

 and pitfalls, the kea meanwhile holding on and balancing 

 itself with outstretched wings. Very soon the sheep strikes a 

 rock or stumbles and rolls over and over down the hill, only to 

 get on its feet again and repeat the performance time after 

 time. When the beast stumbles the kea rises on its wings, 

 and settles do^vn again on to the sheep when it has regained 

 its feet. This awful race is continued until, bruised by its 

 numerous falls, utterly exhausted by its death-struggles, and 

 maddened with pain, the terrified animal stumbles to rise no 

 more, and becomes an easy prey to the kea. The blind rushes 



