AND OTHER BIRDS 193 



the little jarring sound, similar, except more 

 shrill, to that of the male. She, too, under these 

 inexplicable conditions, hopped several times 

 back and forwards over the nest, before, still 

 unaided by reason, and following the bidding of 

 instinct alone, she finally settled on to the 

 nestlings. This jarring song was quite unlike the 

 stuttering notes I had heard from her before, 

 and was perhaps a reveille used but very rarely. 



I was surprised to notice how, on three 

 occasions, the sharp snap of a twig broken under 

 foot caused the nest instantly to blossom with 

 golden gapes. Nothing, of course, could have 

 been dry, yet the sound was just such as would 

 have been produced in open, arid woods by the 

 crack of a brittle branchlet; and I had already 

 wondered at a similar noise made on Piko- 

 mamaku-iti by a Mutton Bird blundering in the 

 dark. The vibratory tremor of the sound, to 

 my human hearing so totally unlike any bird call 

 of any species, represented apparently to the 

 nestling Tits the chirp that calls to food. 



Perhaps just as we know that many persons 

 cannot detect the high squeak of the bat, and as 

 the Tui in spring can be seen singing, and certain 

 ducks seen to be quacking though no sound is 

 heard, so I daresay the sharp snap of the stick 

 may have resembled some part of an entire song 

 inaudible to us. 



Up to this date, owing to the gales that rocked 

 not only the stage and object nest, but heaved the 

 very blanket of peat in which the tree roots were 

 anchored, our photographs had been wretched. 

 We were pleased, therefore, when late one after- 

 noon, whilst watching a pair of Bush Creepers 

 carrying nesting material into a dark thicket, 



