60 MUTTON BIRDS 



refused to budge, and not placated with 

 squeezing us on to the wet and dirty bank, made 

 furious lunges with his beak, when accidentally 

 brushed by our gear or waterproofs. 



To and from their rookeries the birds travel 

 in broad daylight, and often one can be seen 

 slouching home from the ocean, ludicrously like 

 a man drenched to a sop, with his soaked arms 

 dropped at full length dejectedly at his sides, 

 and as helpless looking as the legs of a drone on 

 the wing. 



The main entrance to one of the Te Kuri 

 rookeries was up a little creek, shallow in ebb 

 and filled in a flowing tide. Breaking its bed 

 was a fall of three or four feet, and once, when 

 my head was momentarily turned, a Penguin 

 appeared on the upper level. He must have 

 leaped straight from the water beneath, as 

 Shackleton describes the landing of an Emperor 

 in his "In the Heart of the Antarctic." 

 Noticing me on the track this bird re- 

 turned to the sea, and cruised about the 

 little estuary swimming high out of the 

 water somewhat in the manner of a Pekin 

 Duck. Sometimes, too, this species of Penguin 

 may be observed moving very low in the water 

 and with his head alone showing. When com- 

 panies are swimming fast at sea they can be 

 easily mistaken for some sort of porpoise, pos- 

 sessing the same wonderful resilient leap and 

 dive, in and out motion. Like flying fish, they 

 live indeed a two-fold life; as birds enjoying the 

 air, and warmth, and light, and as fish the 

 penetrable waves, their coolness, and their dim 

 delightful shade. 



The breeding season begins about September. 



