THE STITCHBIRD 43 
perched and watched us within a few feet. Often 
a Bellbird and sometimes a Tui will indulge in a 
fit of wondering and peering—an active curiosity 
at close quarters,—but not for a longer period or 
with more dispassionate detachment than a Stitch- 
bird. Whilst, however, there was no difficulty in 
seeing the birds on the not very frequent occa- 
sions when they chose to allow themselves to be 
viewed, there was great difficulty in following 
their journeys for more than a few feet. Day 
by day passed with mere momentary appearances, 
disconcerting glimpses intercepted instantly by 
boles and boughs and shifting greenery. The 
flutter to earth of the hen direct from a high tree- 
top is a marvel to watch, a flutter as rapid as the 
fall of a stone—really doubtless a series of zigzags 
performed at so prodigious a speed that the 
human eye cannot detect more than a blurr of 
rapid movement. The birds can mount lianes 
like monkeys scaling a rope. They can move 
through open scrub quick as light with the hop- 
ping run of the Crow or Saddleback. They can 
hover like great bees or humming-birds in front of 
blossoms. With sunlight falling full on the splen- 
did rich gold of the outspread wings, on the deep 
blacks and pure whites of head and neck, the male 
then appears not a bird but a huge brilliant 
tropical butterfly—a magnificent creature indeed. 
It was curious to note the indifference of the 
