96 THE LIVING ANIMALS OF THE WORLD 
The kakapo nests in holes under 
trees and rocks, laying two or three 
eggs, which, like those of the Parrots, 
are white. 
The natives take advantage of 
its feeble powers of flight, hunting it 
on foot by torchlight, aided by dogs, 
which, it is said, are not seldom 
seriously wounded by the powerful 
bill. 
When the breeding-season is 
over, these birds appear to live in 
small communities, four or five 
occupying the same hole. They are 
apparently gifted with some fore- 
sight, inasmuch as they lay up a store 
of food, to be drawn upon during bad 
weather. 
CUCKOOS AND PLANTAIN-EATERS 
The Cuckoo Tribe is somewhat 
unfortunate in that the numerous 
members of which it is composed 
are completely overshadowed by the 
prominence which has been given 
to the COMMON CUCKOO. Few birds, 
indeed, have managed to secure so 
much attention, the poet in particular 
having sung its praises without stint. 
This enthusiasm undoubtedly is but 
an echo of the general popular senti- 
ment, for there are few birds to 
MACAW which the British extend a more 
The flight of these gorgeously clad birds is very powerful hearty welcome, its well-known cry 
possessing a peculiar charm for lovers 
of the country. Coming in April, and leaving again in July, its stay is of the 
shortest; but during the greater part of this time its whereabouts may generally be known 
by the familiar call “ cuckoo, cuckoo,” though undergoing certain characteristic changes as the 
months glide by. 
Apart from its song, one of the most interesting things concerning the cuckoo is the fact 
that it goes about in disguise — the disguise of the ass in the lion’s skin with a vengeance; 
for it is clothed in the garb of that terror of the countryside, the sparrow-hawk. Nay, more; 
it has also most successfully imitated the flight of that bogy; and this to frighten little 
birds — not, however, for the mere purpose of creating consternation amongst them, but for far 
[Wishaw, N.B. 
Phote by C, Reid] 
more sinister ends. 
Somehow or another, in cuckoo society, the rearing of a family is a responsibility which 
is utterly repudiated. Great pains seem to have been taken to evade this duty, and yet to 
ensure the continuity of their distinguished house. The Oviparous method of reproduction, 
which obtains in the feathered world, has been turned to good account —in fact, everything 
depends upon this. It seems to have suggested itself as far more convenient to drop an egg 
here and there into a neighbour’s nursery, and leave the work of bringing it to life to 
the owners thereof. But to carry out this system of distributing foundlings requires tact, 
