Order PASSEEIFORMES.] 



[Family MUSCICAPIM1. 



MIEO ALBIFEONS. 



(SOUTH-ISLAND EOBIN.) 



Miro albifrons (G-melin), Buller, Birds of New Zealand, vol. i., p. 36. 



There was a time when the sprightly Wood Eobin was one of the commonest birds in the 

 South Island. What is the position now ? It is told in the following letter from the facile 

 pen of my friend, Mr. W. W. Smith, of Ashburton (under date of August 15th, 1903) :— 



The Wood Eobin (Miro albifrons)- — the settler's familiar companion of the olden time — is now almost 

 extinct and is very rarely seen. The Bush Wren and the Eifleman also disappear with the vanishing 

 bush. On the more densely bush-clad spurs and valleys, clothed with lighter bush in the Alford Forest 

 and Springburn districts, their feeble notes are occasionally heard. During a trip through that district, in 

 April last, I was charmed and surprised to see numbers of the Makomako or Bell-bird (Anthomis mela- 

 nura). They chiefly inhabited the denser bush-clad spurs, which, alas, are the only remnants now 

 remaining of these magnificent native forests of twenty years ago ! The Tui (Prosthemadera novce- 

 zealandicB) and the Kaka (Nestor meridionalis) have become rare in the district, while the magnificent 

 native Pigeon (Garpophaga novce-zealandice) is extremely so. The graceful Fantail (Bhipidura flabellifera) 

 and the sprightly Tom-tit (Myiomoira macrocephala) flit plentifully on the outskirts of the rapidly vanishing 

 forest. These species do not diminish appreciably, and they are invariably the first to offer welcome 

 greetings to visitors entering the bush. The Weka (Ocydromus australis) is now represented by one-eighth 

 of the number existing when the early settlers arrived and bought or leased extensive areas of the forest 

 and the rich swamps extending for many miles along its outskirts. The Utick (Sphenceacus punctatus) and 

 the beautiful Swamp-hen (Porphijrio melanonotus) were then very abundant. In the autumn, and during 

 the finer months of winter, it was a charming picture of bird-life to observe a large troop of these latter 

 birds feeding peacefully and unmolested in the shallow parts of the swamp. The pleasant calls of the Uticks 

 in the summer evenings, as they moved rapidly through the dense vegetation of the swamps, were also a 

 daily delight to the ornithologist. The lower echo-like call of these reed-loving birds is peculiar to the 

 nesting period, and differs much from the loud calls during the summer and autumn, when they hail each 

 other from all parts of the swamp. It is a rapidly vanishing species, and disappears apace as agricultural 

 settlement advances. 



You will sincerely regret the foregoing observations on the species of birds named. They are, never- 

 theless, accurate fulfilments of your predictions on the fate of many species given in both editions of your 

 .book. Since the destruction of the magnificent native forests and the removal of the dense tussock 

 grass that formerly clothed the Canterbury plains, the climate of Canterbury is much colder, and, therefore, 

 more uncongenial to the native birds. The hailing calls of the Weka from all directions after sundown, 

 and the melodious notes of the Makomako from the beautiful forests, after sunrise, are now sincerely missed 

 by lovers of Nature and the early settlers who formerly enjoyed the singing of the choir of sylvan minstrels. 



A dry, warm summer is more conducive to the well-being of the native birds than the cool wet summers 

 we have experienced for several years. After a succession of three hot, dry summers experienced from 1894 

 to 1897, the Tui and Makomako were more numerous than they had been for some years previous. Since 

 1899 their numbers have greatly decreased, which will continue owing to the exceptionally cold winter 

 we have lately passed through, and until the seasons become warmer and more congenial to their habits. 



When you return to New Zealand and view the wanton destruction and wreck of many of the grand 

 old primseval forests existing in your boyhood days, you will rejoice that your history of the ' Birds of New 

 Zealand' was written while they were in their primseval beauty and grandeur, and while the unique native 

 birds flourished in their peaceful glades. Fortunately for science and coming generations, your valued 

 work was written amid these harmonious scenes of bird-life in early New Zealand. Mr. Keuleman's work, 

 associated with your own, which so richly embellishes your ' History,' will also be more valued when many 



