THE STITCHBIRD 4] 
the actions of the Stitchbird. It was never pos- 
sible, for instance, to predict the posture to be 
assumed. In attempting photography it was 
never possible to foretell an attitude. Without 
apparent rhyme or reason for the change, I have 
seen the male during one visit glide into the nest 
as if fulfilling a guilty assignation; at the next, 
scale the twisted lianes with simian activity, 
emitting with the last upward leap just such a 
“sptt ’—just such a triumphant shout as an 
athlete might utter in performance of a strenuous 
feat of strength. The birds, both cock and hen, 
will sometimes leave the nest with speed the 
eye can hardly follow, as if shot forth from the 
dark like shells. I have seen them equally often 
wait without haste on the lip of the hole, with 
plumage compressed and smooth. Sometimes 
they will dive with extraordinary celerity from a 
height straight into the dark interior of the tree, 
and sometimes leisurely perch and inspect the 
passage inwards to the nest. In approach, as the 
mood takes them, the birds will hesitate and 
loiter on the way, or proceed with business-like 
despatch. Sometimes the nest is reached in per- 
fect silence; at other times approach is heralded 
with the usual “ p-s-tt”’ from time to time re- 
peated. In the forest, too, and far from nest, the 
Stitchbird will one day appear to hide and shun 
observance; on another be indifferent; on a 
