SEPTEMBER IN NEW ZEALAND. 
51 
to detect, the white abdomen harmonising perfectly with the 
flat white lichens that wrap the boles and boughs of surrounding 
trees. It is a very stupid, or a very confiding bird. Even the 
report of a gun, and the slaughter of a companion on the same 
branch causes no alarm. 
Not many years ago a native got over forty brace on the 
run during a single afternoon ; now not half that number are 
secured in the course of the whole shooting season. The pigeon 
when fat is excellent eating, but during some months the flesh 
becomes bitter from certain berries and leaves. The dark fruit 
of the “ wawao ” is said to discolour the flesh with its dye. 
In this month, during showery weather, the strange wild cry of 
the weka may often be heard. They seem to be specially 
uneasy before rain, or in wet weather. The note never fails to 
recall to me the weird, moorland cry of the curlew. The weka, 
though possessed of large wings, is quite unable to use them for 
flight. It is a prolific breeder, and sometimes the eggs are 
laid as early as August, and I have seen the jet-black chicks 
early in September. This rail is a very inquisitive creature, 
and will carry off anything bright or glittering. While fishing 
upon one occasion, one of these birds attempted to purloin my 
artificial minnow. An old sardine tin is a great prize. Buller 
says he has known it take away meerschaum pipes, spoons, 
pannikins, boxes of matches, even, upon one occasion, a watch 
from a bushman’s hut. In districts where there are rabbits, the 
weka is looked upon as a friend and ally. It not only kills the 
rabbits above ground, but enters the burrows in search of the 
young. 
This month the yellow kowhai {Sophora tetraptera var. grandi- 
flora) is in its fullest bloom, and the flowers of the scented white 
rangiora [Brachyglottis repanda) set off the green of our rather 
sombre woods. When ruffled in a breeze, too, the silver-backed 
leaves whiten and shine. These, and wreaths of clematis, give 
any colour there is to the September woods. The air is full, 
however, of the scent of gummy, bursting buds, and the spikes 
of the ti {Cordyline), already lean with the promise of October's 
blossoms. 
H. Guthrie-Smith. 
Cruelty to Starlings.— On Saturday morning, December 9, 1893, forty 
starlings were brought me in a bag, made by sewing up a man’s dirty jersey, the 
neck being tied round with string. Holes were punched at intervals in the jersey 
(like those in Alcock’s plaster), and the wretched birds were thrusting their beaks 
through them. The man who sold them warranted that they would keep, as 
packed, in good condition for shooting from traps till Monday. We took them 
out one by one, and they flew away, some weakly, but they must have been very 
recently caught, as the metallic sheen on their wings was in most cases undimmed. 
They were still strong to bear many hours’, perhaps days’, torture. Of course, to 
buy them was but to encourage the trapper, but we could not have endured to 
leave them in that bag all Sunday. 
Vaughan House, Croydon. 
E. PuiLi.irs. 
