others. Here, then, was an explanation of the wintering of the Keas. The alpine scrub is generally fairly thick where there is any at all, thick enough to form a roof upon which the snow can lie, and stiff enough to bear the weight of it; and beneath the scrub and snow roof the Keas can be very comfortably housed, out of the reach of frosts and gales, and with a larder under their feet. There may not be much in that larder, but it is enough to keep them alive till the snow disappears.
It is quite a mistake to think that whenever you are in Kea country you will see the birds; considering the expanse of the country, the Keas are comparatively few, and the traveller may spend days and even weeks without ever seeing a single specimen.
They seem to have favourite valleys and peaks, and, if you can get back into the mountain fastnesses and camp in these places, the Keas in their native haunts can usually be seen.
At other times they may be seen in ones and twos or larger groups scattered throughout the country, but their appearance on the scene is always an uncertainty.
Often they seem to be very timid, and fly high up in the air, giving out their characteristic cries as they sail overhead. Sometimes, on the other hand, they become fearless and poke round one’s tent and camp fire in a way that makes them a perfect nuisance.
In some districts, where they were once to be seen in large flocks, the long slaughter has since greatly reduced their numbers.
The Kea, like other parrots, is normally a vegetarian, with, as one might expect from its connection with the brush-tongued parrots, a strong liking for honey.
In addition to this it is strongly insectivorous, being specially fond of the larvae of the insects found on the mountains.
The late Mr. T. H. Potts says that the Kea gathers its subsistence from the nectar of hardy flowers—from the drupes and berries of dwarfed shrubs that contend with the rigorous
