282 J. Cassidy—The Extinct Moa and the Living Kiwi


to lay eggs. I had a very fine, handsome female Kiwi. She was fastidious

about a mate and it is a fact that the first intended mate that I introduced

to her she almost killed, so strongly did she disapprove of him. Perhaps

his scent displeased her. The second introduction was almost as un¬

satisfactory at the beginning, as she punished him by giving him a

thorough thrashing. However, after the thrashing, the two became

reconciled and they mated. They had been mated three months when

she laid two eggs. One was laid a week after the other. Before laying

the eggs the pair dug a pit in the floor of the clay house. The pit was so

dug that the cavity was of dome shape, that shape giving the greatest

ease to the setting birds. Or perhaps I should say bird, as it is the male

bird that sets as, in a nest shaped in this way, he finds it possible to move

his body and turn to any position he will on the eggs.


“ The eggs are buried for one third of their depth in the soil at the

bottom of the nest and for the most of the time the male bird sets across

them. Pie is much smaller than the hen bird. He sat twenty-eight days

and brought out one chick, and on the following day another—little

pure white fluffy creatures with pinkish bills.


“ I procured earth worms for them, and grubs, and they were no

sooner hatched than they began to run about. The male bird, after his

long inactivity, was miserably emaciated and ate enormous quantities

of food. When the eggs were hatched the mother-bird at once took

possession of the chicks and reared them to maturity. I have seen the

chicks sitting close against her but not actually gathered under her. I

have also seen the mother-bird prod for worms, which she dropped

on the surface for the young ones.


“ When one of the Kiwi chicks was half-grown I wanted to show it to

a friend and on going to the house to fetch it I found that it was dead,

its jugular vein having been severed by a weasel!


“ I reared the other Kiwi ; he’s running about in the park now.

It takes half a pound of fresh meat a day to feed a Kiwi, to save the cost

I freed him. When I was rearing the young ones I used to go into their

place, taking with me a dim light, and sit and watch them for an hour

or so, observing their habits. I have sat down on a seat only slightly

raised from the ground, without moving in the least and with my knee

at a slight angle, and the birds have come and prodded me over and



