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it were, by a thick undergrowth of bright green pukapuka, mixed with the still brighter mahoe, and 
protected in front by a perfect network of kareao vines, attached to and suspended from the higher 
trees. W e soon had a roaring camp fire and some ribs of mutton roasting for supper. As the night 
closed in upon us we heard all round the solemn notes of the New-Zealand Owl : first, a distinct Jcou- 
7iOU, kou-kou ; then in a weaker key (perhaps the responsive call of the female) Jceo-keo-keo ; and then, 
in alternation, the alarm-note and the ever familiar cry of “ more-pork.” 
-kven after a pall of darkness had settled on the woods, some Tuis in the tall tree-tops kept up a 
delicious liquid song, like the measured tolling of a silver bell, and far into the night could be heard, 
at intervals, the low whistling note of the Kaka communing with his mate. Then all was quiet, the 
night being very dark, and nothing broke the stillness of the forest till the Huia-call of our native 
guide brought us to our senses in the early dawn. But the day turned out unpropitious. The 
drizzling rain continued and a strong breeze set in ; so we determined to shift our camp to the other 
side of the range. Our road lay along the side of another ravine. We had not proceeded more than 
a mile when Rahui’s call was answered from the other side. The bird’s loud cry was presently 
succeeded by a whistling whimper, and then he came towards us, bouncing through the brushwood 
as if in a desperate hurry. Descending to the ground a few yards in front of us, he hopped along the 
surface, and then up the trunk of a prostrate tree, with surprising agility. My companion took a shot 
at him ; but owing to the dampness his gun missed fire, and the bird, taking alarm, disappeared in an 
instant, all our efforts to recall him proving of no avail. On reaching the head of the valley, we 
tethered our horses and commenced the ascent of the range, which we found very steep. About half- 
way up, we rested on the ground. Rahui continued his call — a loud clear whistle — not much like 
the ordinary call of the bird, being louder and more shrill. In a few seconds, without sound or 
warning of any kind, a Huia came bounding along, almost tumbling, through the close foliage of the 
pukapuka, and presented himself to view at such close range that it was impossible to fire. This 
gave me an opportunity of watching this beautiful bird and marking his noble bearing, if I may so 
express it, before I shot him. While waiting to get the bird within proper range, I heard far below 
me the rich note of the Kokako, repeated several times. It is scarcely distinguishable from the 
call of the Tui, but is preceded by a prolonged organ-note of rare sweetness. My next shot was 
at an adult male Huia who came dashing up, with reckless impetuosity, from the wooded gully. 
Being anxious to obtain a perfect specimen, I risked a long shot and only wounded my bird. Down 
he went to the ground like an arrow, with a sharp flute-note of surprise or pain, and then darted off, 
kangaroo-fashion, covering the ground with wonderful rapidity, and disappeared in the tangle. 
We found the descent of the range much easier than our toilsome climb. Remounting our 
horses we continued up the valley. At a turn in the road, at a spot hemmed in by a wooded 
amphitheatre of beautiful shapely trees (chiefly rata), we halted for a moment to gaze on the scene. 
On a tree, immediately in front of us, a pair of Wood-Pigeons were sitting side by side, showing off 
their ample white breasts under the rays of sunlight glancing through the rain-drops. W hilst we 
were looking at and admiring this little picture of bird-life, a pair of Iluias, without uttering a sound, 
appeared in a tree overhead, and as they were caressing each other with their beautiful bills, a 
charge of No. 6 brought both to the ground together. The incident was rather touching, and I felt 
almost glad that the shot was not mine, although by no means loth to appropriate the two 
fine specimens. Before we reached our next camping-ground, at the foot of Poroporo, we had 
bagged another bird (a female of last year) who was unattended, and came up quite fearlessly to 
her doom. 
After we had secured our horses and “ refreshed the inner man,” Rahui and I started again for 
Huias, whilst our companion remained to fish for eels in the creek near our camp. After we had 
walked about a mile, a bird answered our call, and immediately afterwards a pair of Huias 
alighted in a pukatea tree above us. I brought them down, with right and left, and then another 
