AND OTHER BIRDS 51 



concern by holy men, fed on high festivals by 

 children's hands, sacred throughout the land. 



I like to fancy that though himself, his speech, 

 his faith, his land, except perhaps some peak 

 an Easter Island in deep seas has gone, yet that 

 not all has gone, but that whilst still the Robin 

 lives, the kindly customs of that lost race survive. 



In the eighties I remember the Robin fairly 

 plentiful in the wooded gorges of parts of 

 Canterbury, and at that date he was probably 

 still comparatively plentiful in suitable localities 

 throughout the South Island; but it was not 

 until thirty years later that a more intimate 

 acquaintance with the breed began. 



The South Island Robin is about the size of 

 a fledgling thrush, very dark brown all over 

 except the lower breast and belly, which are 

 more or less grey-white. Above the upper part 

 of the bill there is also a minute line of white. 

 This grey, or grey-white ventral tract varies 

 much in different birds, and is in some quite 

 irregular. The belly feathers, moreover, do not 

 always lie close and tight, and this sometimes 

 gives the bird a rather shabby and unkempt 

 appearance as if its plumage was sparse 

 and uneven. Usually, however, the bird wears 

 that particularly neat appearance so associated 

 with the English red-breast, and the plumage of 

 the finest males is almost black and of splendid 

 sheen. 



Even in Stewart Island the bird has gone 

 from about the little settlement of Half Moon 

 Bay. Wherever a man builds even the smallest 

 hut and wherever the Weka is killed out rats 

 follow, and the Robin is at once exterminated. 

 Some of the great inland valleys, however, are 



