MUTTON BIRDS 



CHAPTER X. 

 THE WOODS OF AUTUMN AND SPRING. 



iWICE during autumn I had been 

 camped on the banks of the Ra.kiahua, 

 once in search of high country 

 grasses, and once again to watch a 

 Kaka 's nest ; and now in spring again 

 I was delighted to be in the well-remembered 

 wilds to sleep in the bare hut, to wake to the 

 view of the wooded slopes, to watch the spring 

 awakening of dwarf plants on soaked red moss 

 and spongy turf. 



There are no pleasures like those the desert 

 can give ; and to their devotees the wildernesses 

 of the earth can never weary or grow stale. I 

 had left in autumn and now returning in spring 

 found a vast difference in the life of the woods. 

 In March, a stranger to the movements of our 

 New Zealand birds would have wondered at 

 their numbers ; in October, he would have vowed 

 that even here in these remotest wilds, native 

 species had become almost extinct. The altera- 

 tion, in truth, was very great. In March those 

 inland woods had been full of sound and flight ; 

 in October they were noiseless and bare, 'bare 

 deserted choirs where once the sweet birds 

 sang. ' The tall trees then had really been alive 

 with ICaka, the birds hopping with short, silent 



