AND OTHER BIRDS 87 



the well-worn routes in their vicinity, to be the 

 permanent homes of Kiwi families. The 

 breeding burrows, on the other hand, were quite 

 shallow, and their entrance tunnels short. That 

 of the Kiwi and chick was two feet six inches in 

 length, that of the Kiwi and egg one foot 

 nine inches; the length of the tunnel of the 

 vacated nest was two feet six inches, and that of 

 the scraped out burrow two feet six inches. 



Our first discovered Kiwi boring, that of the 

 parent and chick, was found late on a gloomy 

 afternoon ; all day long we had been wandering 

 a chain or so apart, and had now edged in 

 toward one another for interchange of views 

 and news. We were dejected and wet, and 

 Banjo, for hours run on a rope, was dispirited 

 too. In his novel role of field naturalist, 

 and debarred from slaughter, the dog had 

 perpetually been taking the wrong side of 

 saplings, sound snags, and bush vines, and 

 had endured a score of times, with strug- 

 glings and chokings, the pangs of partial 

 strangulation. Like a child in his nurse's hand, 

 hanging back at full arm's length, and all 

 unsatiated gazing over his shoulder in wonder- 

 ment of travelling menagerie or village show, 

 Banjo was dragged that live-long day. Mostly, I 

 imagine, he marvelled why Wekas should be 

 spared, and luncheon time was to him the most 

 miserable ten minutes of the day, for then it was 

 the Wekas came up to investigate and prowl 

 around. I knew his feelings; for have not I 

 myself been but recently " saved," and I could 

 sympathise from the heart with his desire to 

 slay. After a chiding or two he could bear to 

 watch the birds; shivering with pent eagerness 

 he could endure the slow approach, the random 



