ii8 ' THE BOOK OF BIRDS 



prefers the ground, along which he makes tracks to and 

 from his nest, closely resembling paths worn by human 

 feet. 



His coat seems made to match the thick moss which 

 grows on the moist New Zealand hills. And if suddenly 

 surprised, instead of rising and whirring off, partridge-like, 

 " he will just pretend he is only a bunch of moss, and will 

 roll over the edge of the rock or tussock where he happens 

 to be sitting, and squat in the moss below, till the danger 

 has passed." 



But neither this cute trick, nor his nocturnal habits, 

 seem to be saving him from approaching extinction. Once 

 he was common all over the colony, now he is only found 

 in the North Island and the northern part of the South 

 Island. Dogs, cats, and pigs make war upon him, and 

 the natives often organize hunts by torchlight, sending 

 their dogs to attack him, and pull him out of his hole. 

 Such unequal contests are soon decided, but the Owl 

 Parrot's sharp beak can give very serious wounds, and the 

 dogs do not have it all their own way. 



His food is chiefly tender twigs and leaves, mosses, 

 roots, ferns, berries, and seeds, with an occasional lizard 

 on which he may be heard feasting with grunts of satis- 

 faction. He is said to graze, nibbling the grass much as a 

 rabbit does. He must be sought for in forest glades, or on 

 open hillsides where there are plenty of stones among 

 which he can hide. 



The late Sir George Grey, when he was Governor of 

 New Zealand, noticed with interest that when this bird 

 happened to be disturbed either by accident or by native 

 hunters, during its day-time sleep, it usually tried to cover 

 itself up again — just like the sluggard in Watts's poem — 

 "You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." 



