144 MUTTON BIRDS 



like the Tui, in spring time and when mating, 

 pairs can be noticed flying swiftly together one 

 above the other, separated only by a few inches. 

 In these remarkable flights the upper bird 

 manages to duplicate and follow exactly each 

 slightest undulation, inclination, drop, or rise 

 of the lower. To accomplish this at full speed 

 and dashing through the branched heights and 

 tangle of the underwood, without the deviation 

 by a hair's breadth of the space between the pair, 

 has always seemed to me to be one of the most 

 extraordinary efforts of flight. 



Lastly, the Bell-bird, too, is an excellent 

 mimic, a better imitator of other birds than 

 even the Tui. Perched on a tree above a swamp 

 near Mason Bay I watched one giving a fine 

 rendering of the mellow chirp of a Fern Bird; 

 and on Ulva I have been again and again 

 deceived by its imitation of a Parrakeet's 

 quick chattering note a note in its commence- 

 ment a little like that of the common house 

 Sparrow. The dawn chorus of this classic 

 bird, choired by innumerable throats, and 

 so extolled by early travellers, I have 

 never had the good fortune to hear. Indeed, 

 although the numbers of the Bell-bird may 

 appear to those who have not known the past, to 

 be still considerable, yet the volume of sound 

 listened to by Cook and his mariners, can never 

 perhaps again be heard in New Zealand. The 

 tolling-note, however, cannot be designated by 

 any other appellation, and is unmistakable. I 

 have heard it most clearly when in autumn 

 watching Parrakeets, and when half a dozen 

 Bell-birds have come up to the stage attracted 

 by the opening in the bush and the warmth and 



