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sure it depends greatly on its hearing for finding its food ; and it must be sharp to detect the small noises of worms or grubs so deep in the ground. It often rests the point of its beak on the ground, apparently for support, but it may be to scent the worm-holes that come to the surface. Though their sight seems to be of little use to them, there is no doubt about their keen scent, because when a worm or piece of meat is thrown near them they are aware of its presence at once, and touch the ground here and there, coming nearer and nearer until it is felt and taken up. I have often seen their tracks on the sandy beaches at Te Anau, and was puzzled to know why there were only a few regular steps and then a deep footprint and a long stride to the right or left; but now I think they get part of their food in the spring by catching insects that fly close to the ground, and late in the evening, such as moths and beetles ; so their sight is of some use to them, notwithstanding their blind manner. I think that a large part of their food consists of earth-worms, though no doubt they will eat all sorts of insects, including many things they get out of puddles and water-holes ; and, like the woodhens, they can fall back on some vegetable food. Last August I got some fine fat roas killed through the dog getting the muzzle off, and their stomachs were full of miro berries, the hard stones of which they completely digest, probably for the sake of the little oily kernels. They will accommodate themselves in a sort of a way to bread and meat in captivity, but they get very poor, because they worry so much trying to get their liberty. They require plenty of ventilation, and if the sandflies get liberty they will kill them, so that I have great trouble to keep captives on Pigeon Island. Mr. Ness, of Port Chalmers, kept one for years in splendid health. On Mount Bradshaw in December, 1898, I found two roas away out on the grass—the only ones I ever found out of the forest. One was under a bit of scrub and the other under a big tussock. The last one I had to wake up, and then it looked more surprised than afraid. I took it up in my arms and noticed that it had a great coat of feathers, so that it may live up there altogether. When I put it down it just fixed itself in its seat to go asleep again. It knew nothing of enemies of any sort. We had put several pairs of roas on Parrot Island, which is only a couple of hundred acres in extent, and on the 15th November went to see how they were getting on, and found one hatching a fresh egg ; and in the same hole with him was a little chicken only a week or two old. This was a plain case of breeding twice, but it was rather hard on the hatcher ; yet he was in good condition, so that they must have been getting abundance of food in that new place. The egg was 5 in. long and over 3Jin. in diameter, and weighed 18 oz. The hatcher would have weighed about 61b. and the mother about 8 lb., for I have weighed them several times ; but in this case we did not see the mother at all. The father could not mind the youngster and hatch at the same time; but I have long held the idea that the young ones become independent very soon, for I have often got them away by themselves, and when I was keeping little ones and let them out for a while they would always work for themselves as a matter of course. They are born fully feathered like their parents, and perhaps fully educated, which latter would be a great desideratum for humanity. The mother might come and look after the little one, but I think not this time, for I found one soon after laying an egg, and it was indifferent about anything. So the hatching male and big egg are necessary co-relations. Though they could make holes for themselves in the soft banks, yet I think they very seldom do so, for there are always plenty to choose from under the roots of trees where they can sleep during the day. For the nest they like rather a small hole with only one entrance, and in the driest place they can find. There they gather a few handfuls of dry fern-leaves and scrub and lay their one great egg; and I think the male takes entire charge of it, and never leaves it until it is hatched, but I am not quite sure of this, for the female may sit a while at night and let him come out for food, but I never found one on an egg, though I have seen dozens of nests in the last fourteen years. On a very few occasions I have found the female in the hole with him when sitting, but generally he is there alone, though at other times the adults are always in pairs. Even if I were to go up the spur in the dark to a nest I might disturb them and learn nothing; but the point of his endurance can be easily settled by those that keep them in gardens. At the beginning of his task he is in good condition, but when the egg is nearly hatched he is poor and quite stupid, while his mate is wide awake and fightable, so that they have just exchanged places since she laid that egg. I found two chickens just hatched, one of them not quite dry ; yet there was not a scrap of eggshell in the nest, and I could not account for it. The chickens were quite helpless, and unable to stand up, so they must have either absorbed food enough to last them until they could walk or the parents carried it to them. When they are able to walk some of them at least are quite careless about staying with the old ones, for I have found a tender little thing several yards away from where the parents were asleep ; and I found a tiny grey kiwi in a knot-hole near the beach, and my dog could not find the mother at all. So there are many questions to be asked about them, for they have some curious ways, and as yet we may not know half their history. From the size of the egg and the shape of his body it would be impossible for him to hatch two eggs at one time, so that the big egg must be a very old le § ac yThe voice of the male is a high-pitched rather musical scream, with a tremble and a sudden drop of several notes at the and of each call, which may be about two seconds duration, repeated five or six times. The female sings nearly the same tune, but in a much lower and hoarser tone, somewhat like ro-ar, ro-ar, with both syllables accented and a slight rest between. When disturbed in their holes they crack their beaks like a snap of the fingers, and protest in a grunt or growl, but never use the beak for defence. In fact, I often take both legs in my hand before they seem to be aware of it. But long ago I caught one by the head, and with its powerful legs and strong sharp claws it wounded my hand and wrist severely—poisonous wounds that were very slow to heal.