62 Director's Annual Report. 
ridge, it would, in all probability be gone from sight and forever. 
I pulled the trigger and, to my consternation my gun missed fire. 
It was after all little wonder that gun and ammunition failed me, 
for both had been soaking wet for three days. The next few sec- 
onds were moments of painful indecision. ‘To break and reload 
my gun would surely frighten the bird; to use the heavy charge 
in the left barrel was almost criminal, but my only recourse. With- 
out further delay I availed myself of the first opportunity when the 
bird was screened by limbs and fired. The feathers flew: my first 
Black Mamo had been shot. Shot, but not found. ‘‘A bird in 
the hand’’ in the Hawaiian forests, is worth several in the bush, 
especially the bush in Molokai. ‘Though the bird was not more 
than twenty-five feet from me when I fired, and my man and I both 
saw it start to fall, we searched for it in vain for three-quarters of 
an hour. We looked carefully under the vines and ferns, among 
the undergrowth in the trees, in fact everywhere for it, even sein- 
ing a pool of water that had collected in the rocks a little farther 
below, yet not a sign of the coveted Hoa could we find. I had 
almost given up all hope of finding it, and began to save the few 
scattered feathers lying about, feeling that my claim to having 
found the rare bird would have to rest on such evidence as they 
could furnish. 
As the search grew more hopeless, my native, who had assured 
me in the morning that he had heard of the Hoa, but had never 
seen such a bird as I described it to be, now became more earnest, 
as he declared to me that the bird just shot was not the Oo—the 
only other black bird known to him. As he was able to give the 
points wherein it differed from that now almost equally rare spe- 
cies, I felt his remarks were valuable as a convincing commentary 
on the scarcity of this bird. Here was a native hunter, familiar 
with the teachings of his fathers, whose knowledge of the forest 
had been gained almost half a century before, who knew not only 
the native names and uses of almost every plant we saw, but the 
names and habits of all the native birds, save this one, declaring 
it to be unknown to him. Yet we who understand something of 
Nature’s processes, know that the Hoa has been for ages inhabiting 
these mountains, not six miles distant from, and in sight of the place 
where this man was born, and where he had lived all his life. 
[152] 
