the box, and by dint of pushing, with their heads down, they were able to roll the stones off.
Whether it was done for fun, as the birds have been known to do at the Hermitage, or whether it was done as an attempt to rescue their imprisoned mates, I am not prepared to say.
At the shepherd’s hut at the Mt. Algidus Station there was a tame Kea, who kept the inmates from becoming dull by the mischief into which he was always getting. What he loved most of all was to creep into the kitchen, when the cook was absent, and try all the tempting dishes on the table. He would sample the butter, put his feet into the milk, take a mouthful of jam, upset the sugar-basin, and would usually end up by walking into the treacle pot. When he heard the cook returning he would make a dash for the door, and, as his feet were more or less gripped by the treacle, he would upset the pot and leave the table in a state of chaos. At other times he would interfere with the bread and try the meat, but, as soon as he saw the cook’s hand steal towards the long-handled broom, the bird almost fell over himself in his anxiety to get to the door. Outside he worried the kittens and fowls, and once while playing with a ball of string he got so tangled up that he had to be helped to get free.
The birds make very interesting pets, but are very noisy and destructive, and they need a very strong cage in which to confine them.
Though very tame and inquisitive, they are not so easily caught in their wild state as one would imagine. To give a good idea of this I cannot do better than quote from a short article by Mr. E. F. Stead, of Christchurch, who has devoted much splendid practical investigation to the bird life of New Zealand. He gives the following graphic account:—
"The call bird, which had never been in a small cage before, and was very wild when we first put her in the evening before, had got quite used to the surroundings, and had learned how to hang on with her feet and beak, so that she was not knocked about when being carried. It is marvellous
