90 MUTTON BIRDS 



under normal conditions became impossible. 

 It is worth recording, nevertheless, that, even 

 when wild with desire to escape, although the 

 old bird dug desperately with his bill, tearing 

 out and taking beakfuls of earth and brown root 

 fibre from the sides and ends of the chamber, 

 not the slightest attempt was made to scrape 

 out an exit. The bird, however, could and did 

 kick backwards violently when touched; on one 

 occasion somersaulting his innocent child. The 

 posture in defence was somewhat similar to that 

 of a young Hawk. In attack, the Kiwi seemed 

 momentarily to stand on his "tail," projecting 

 himself forward, and striking with the spurs 

 of his thick fowl-like legs. Beyond showing the 

 picture of the bird, and in the Kiwi's case a 

 disgustingly bad one at that, photography of 

 species in their burrows is worthless. None of 

 the attitudes are normal and the feathers soon 

 get tousled and the bill encrusted with dirt. At 

 the least touch, moreover, the Kiwi sheds its 

 plumage that plumage so harsh at the tips, so 

 lustrously soft and silky beneath. 



At last the bird broke away, and a final 

 glimpse revealed him moving off at a high- 

 stepping trot, and making no attempt to dodge 

 into cover and hide. He was travelling, I am 

 sure, on a trail well known and often used. 



The chick now left an orphan on our hands, 

 was just like a little hedgehog with a long bill. 

 In "Dick," as he was afterwards christened by 

 his kind hostess at Half Moon Bay, the bill was 

 of a whitish ivory hue slightly tinged with flesh 

 at the base, and was seemingly still used to some 

 degree as a means of support. His claws were 

 pale lead colour and noticeablv turned in. The 





