It is deservedly in high estimation for the table, and may be regarded as perhaps the most 
valuable of our indigenous birds. It is less plentiful than it formerly was, which is no doubt partly 
attributable to the increased traffic on our rivers, but is chiefly owing to the indiscriminate use of 
the gun. Happily, however, the Colonial Legislature has undertaken the care of this among other 
native species, and the Wild-Birds Protection Act now makes it a punishable offence to shoot or trap 
these birds during certain months of the year. 
It frequents rivers, bush-creeks, lagoons, and swamps, often consorting in large flocks, but more 
generally associating in parties of from three to seven. In some localities it affords very good 
shooting ; and being seminocturnal in its habits, a clear moonlight night is considered by many the 
best time for this kind of sport. The birds on reaching their feeding-ground make a circuit in the 
air to reconnoitre, and then descend in an oblique direction, the rapid vibration of their wings pro- 
ducing a whistling sound, very familiar and pleasant to the ear of a sportsman. 
In its habits, the Grey Duck differs in no respect from the other members of its group. In the 
water it swims low, with the neck erect and the head gently swayed to and fro ; when at rest it either 
floats on the surface, with the head drawn closely in, or it reposes on the bank very near to the 
water’s edge, often selecting a jutting point of land, as affording a more unobstructed view and less 
danger of surprise ; and when the banks are soft and muddy it takes up its station on a log of wood, 
bare rock, or other projecting object. Naturally of a wild disposition, the attempts to domesticate 
this bird, even when it is taken from the nest and reared by hand, generally end in failure — although 
I have met with one or two striking instances to the contrary, and with one case of its crossing, in 
captivity, with the Domestic Duck. 
Begarded as an article of food, the Grey Duck is in its prime during the autumn and commence- 
ment of winter; but the quality of the game differs according to the locality, those from the lakes 
and rivers of the interior having a richer flavour as a rule than birds living in the vicinity of the sea- 
shore, where the food is coarser. 
In many of our harbours and estuaries, when the tide has ebbed and the exposed sandy spits run 
far out into the rippling waters, flocks of Grey Duck may be seen resting there in long straggling 
lines, with here and there, in the very midst of them, a Sea-Gull displaying his snow-white head and 
breast, or a Black Shag spreading his wings, like funereal banners, to dry in the morning air. On these 
occasions a person on horseback, or even on foot, if not carrying a gun, may often come within easy 
range of them ; but it is notorious that, except in the more unfrequented parts of the country, the 
Grey Duck has learnt from cruel experience to detect the presence of fire-arms, and, unless under 
cover, a sportsman has no chance whatever of getting within shot-range. The same remark applies to 
other Ducks, but particularly to this species and to Casarca variegata. Any one carrying a long 
stick, or indeed anything having any resemblance to a gun, is similarly avoided by the wary Grey Duck. 
They seem generally to prefer cool and shady resorts, but I have also seen dozens of them 
floating on the bosom of the Waikato, under a strong noonday sun, as if enjoying the perfect calm. 
In the deep, quiet pools, or basking in the sunshine on the scattered rocks in the midst of a mountain- 
stream— its plump form exhibited to perfection— it is one of the commonest features of a New-Zealand 
river. 
Prom the box-seat of the passing coach I once witnessed, in the Manawatu gorge, a very unusual 
sight. A fine old Hawk {Circus gouldi) was apparently determined to dine off young duck, and was 
persistently chasing a small brood that were disporting themselves in the water below us. He made 
frequent dips upon them with his outstretched talons, but the little things were always on the alert, 
diviirg under the moment their pursuer approached. The old birds, evidently quite satisfied as 
to the safety of their brood, took iro heed of what was going on, and remained quite motioirless 
on their post of observation till we had passed out of sight. 
