The Zoologist— December, 1871. 2857 



canopy of snow, is not without its influence on the habits of this 

 hardy bird : it is driven from its stronghold in the rocky gully and 

 compelled to seek its food at a far less elevation, as its food supply 

 has passed away gradually at the approach of winter, or lies buried 

 beyond its reach. The honey-bearing flowers have faded and 

 fallen long before; the season that succeeded with its lavish yield 

 of berries and drupes that gaily decked the close-growing Copros- 

 mas, the trailing Pimelias, or the sharp-leaved Leucopogon, has 

 succumbed to the stern rule of winter: nor has this change of 

 season affected the Flora of the Alps alone ; the insect world, in a 

 thousand forms, which enlivened every mountain gully with the 

 chirp and busy hum of life, now lies entranced in its mummy state, 

 as inanimate as the torpid lizard that takes its winter's sleep 

 sheltered beneath some well-pressed stone. Under the effects of 

 such a change, that cuts off" such a supply of food, the kea gradually 

 descends the gullies, where a certain amount of shelter has 

 encouraged the growth of the kohai that yields its supply of hard 

 bitter seeds, the beautiful Pittosporums with their small hard seeds 

 packed in gluten, and the black-berried Aristotelia; these and 

 numerous other shrubs, or trees, such as the pitch pine and totara, 

 furnish the means of life to the parrot. It is during the continuance 

 of this season that we have had the best opportunities of becoming 

 somewhat familiar with it. 



Within the last few years it has discovered the out-stations of 

 some of the " back country " settlers. Of course, every station has 

 that indispensable requisite, a meat gallows ; it has found out and 

 fully appreciates the value of this institution, as occasionally 

 off'ering an excellent supply of food : the gallows is generally 

 visited by night; beef or mutton equally suffer from the voracity of 

 the kea, nor are the drying sheepskins despised. These visits 

 may be looked upon quite as social gatherings, as it is by no means 

 a rare occurrence for a score of noisy parrots to be perched on the 

 roof of a hut at one time. A son of the writer obtained some fine 

 specimens by means of a very simple snare — the noose made of a 

 slender strip of flax-leaf attached to the end of ricker or rod ; he 

 describes them as exhibiting great boldness and confidence, clam- 

 bering about the roof of the hut, allowing a very close approach : 

 when caught they remained quite still, without any of the noisy 

 fluttering which usually accompanies the capture of birds, even 

 when managed with adroitness; they preserved this quiet demeanour 



