swiftly down to another hiding-place among 

 the alders. To the hunters, who are practi- 

 ca Uy hi s on jy human acquaintances, he is a 

 game bird pure and simple, and their interest 

 is chiefly in his death. The details of his 

 daily life he hides from them, and from all 

 others, in the dark woods, where he spends 

 all the sunny hours, and in the soft twilight 

 when he stirs abroad, like an owl, after his 

 long day's rest. Of a hundred farmers on 

 whose lands I have found Whitooweek or the 

 signs of his recent feeding, scarcely five knew 

 from observation that such a bird existed, so 

 well does he play the hermit under our very 

 noses. 



The reasons for this are many. By day 

 he rests on the ground in some dark bit of 

 cover, by a brown stump that exactly matches 

 his feathers, or in a tangle of dead leaves 

 and brakes \vhere it is almost impossible to 

 see him. At such times his strange fearless- 

 ness of man helps to hide him, for he will 

 let you pass within a few feet of him without 

 stirring. That is partly because he sees 

 poorly by day and perhaps does not realize 



