54 



I have received from Westport two partial albinoes of this species marked almost exactly 

 alike. They are both males and, having been captured at the same time, they presumably 

 belonged to the same nest. The finer one of the two has the forehead, sides of the head, throat 

 fore-neck, breast (with the exception of a central patch of brown), and the whole of the abdomen, 

 sides of the body, and flanks pure white ; the rest of the plumage normal. The other bird is 

 almost exactly similar in plumage, but has a little more brown on the sides of the head, a larger 

 patch of brown on the breast, and an admixture of brown with the white of the abdomen and 

 thighs. 



In Mr. Townson's collection at Westport there is a specimen in which the face, fore-neck, 

 breast and abdomen are white ; the rest of the plumage being normal. 



To this species no doubt belongs the " brown-and- white Weka, with a pink bill and dark 

 chrome yellow legs " caught by Miss E. H. Warne on the Tat am Eiver, on the west coast, of 

 which a sketch was given in the 'Witness.' 



I obtained one example of the Brown Wood-hen on Stewart Island, and I am assured that the 

 Black Wood-hen is found there also. We had landed our party at Price's Cove, in Paterson's 

 Inlet, a charming spot near a sandy beach, enclosed by a thick belt of vegetation, among which 

 the beautiful Senecio' rotundifolia was conspicuous. Kindling a fire in front of a huge block of 

 granite, we put on our "billy" of tea, and prepared for an alfresco lunch. Whilst this was 

 proceeding a Wood-hen came out of the bush and, with characteristic curiosity, peered round in 

 its usual stealthy manner to see what we were about, coming right out on to the beach and 

 approaching to within a few feet of our party. I drove him off to a convenient distance, and 

 then brought him down with a very small charge of shot. He proved to be a male of the above 

 species, and was in very fat condition. I found his crop gorged with the berries of the tataramoa 

 bramble (Bubus australis), with which the ground, as I had noticed, was plentifully strewed in the 

 vicinity of our camp. 



The only species of Wood-hen that remains with us in undiminished numbers is Ocyclromus 

 earli, an inhabitant of the wooded country on the west coast of the South Island. 



As I have remarked before, the advantage to our native birds from compulsory protection has 

 been amply demonstrated by results. Take, for example, the Tui. In the early days of settle- 

 ment, this was the commonest of our birds, whilst certainly not the least interesting. But some 

 twenty years ago it was becoming so scarce in all the settled districts, that lovers of birds became 

 alarmed, and in the end the strong arm of the law had to be invoked for its protection. As a 

 consequence, this species is now as plentiful as ever ; indeed, in some places, it is visibly 

 increasing. It would, of course, be absurd to expect birds, whose subsistence depends on bush 

 products, to survive in districts where there is a wholesale destruction of the forest. In the 

 miserable little fringes of native bush that are allowed to remain in such districts, the indigenous 

 birds, as might have been expected, are silenced for ever, and, instead of the sweet notes of the Tui ? 

 one hears the twitter of the Sparrow or the call of the Californian Quail. But the case is wholly 

 different where ample bush reserves have been made. 



Whilst these pages are preparing for press, Captain Hutton writes : " I have just got a speci- 

 men of Ocyclromus earli from Stewart Island. It seems to be a well-defined species." 



During a discussion in the House of Bepresentatives as to the propriety of protecting the 

 Wood-hen in the South Island, it was stated by a Minister of the Crown that he possessed 

 authentic information that this bird was increasing on the Canterbury Plains, and might therefore 

 be left to take care of itself. As to certain favourable localities, this statement is no doubt quite 

 true ; but to those who remember how abundant the Wood-hen was on the plains in the early 

 " 'sixties," it will seem now that the bird is practically a thing of the past. I recollect when 

 travelling on horseback towards Waimate South in 1859, accompanied by a single Maori, we were 



