same habit, and this paper should have been prepared and placed before the members of our society during one of the meetings of last session, but owing to a pressure of other work the writing of this note was never accomplished, and this preliminary opening is for the purpose of enabling me to claim an original discovery, and not a following of Mr. Kingsley's original remarks on the same subject.

I have long known that rats, which I suppose are Norway rats (Mus decumanus), were in the habit of climbing up the many-stemmed and thickly-clustering heads of the kiekie, a many-headed plant which clings so pertinaciously to many of our forest-trees, and often ascends to a considerable height— not by turning around so much as by the hold it takes by short rootlets, which are given off at frequent intervals along its extended length, and by these root-fibres the plant firmly grasps the rough bark of its supporter. These stems make good ladders by which the rat can climb to his favourite cluster of kiekie heads, which, with their long ribbon-like leaves, form a good hiding-place and a dry thatched roof, and here our friend the rat can take his daily slumbers and become suitably refreshed and invigorated preparatory to his midnight rambles.

There is very little doubt that the forest rats occasionally make a kind of nest in the kiekie clumps, by drawing together the dry leaves of their shelter, and nests built in such a thicket of drooping leaves would be entirely concealed from the view or knowledge of any but the most persevering searchers after hidden treasures in the animal or vegetable kingdom. I only remember to have once seen a rat's nest in the kiekie stems, and in this instance the surroundings were different, for the forest had been felled, burnt, and sown in English grass, so that the clinging kiekie and the giant tree (left standing) which supported it had been long dead. The day previous to my passing that way had been a specially windy one, and the long and sinuous stems of kiekie had given way, and lay extended on the ground. I was attracted to the spot by noticing a roll of fibrous material among the stems, and, although in a great hurry at the time, I stopped to investigate it. The bunch of dry material proved to be a dome-roofed nest; but I never examined it very closely, for on my first touching it out sprang an animal of a yellow or cream colour, which had the size and appearance of a rat. This creature speedily hid itself in the long swamp-grass on the edges of a pool of water, and although I and my dogs made diligent search for it we were unsuccessful. Whether the animal was a rat or a weasel I cannot be positive, but its colour being of a much lighter shade than that of a weasel, whose colour I call a dull red, my conclusion was that it was a rat of an abnormal colour.

During the winter season previous to the present—that is, in the year 1895—when cutting down a small tree so that my Angora goats might eat the leaves, I saw among its branches a dark something, seemingly a short piece of the trunk or stem of the punga, or fern-tree. When looking more closely, it proved to be a nest of a most peculiar architecture, and a great novelty. The base or foundation was formed by a number of dry sticks, or, rather, thin twigs, having no leaves adherent to them. These were crossed, and roughly interlaced, and most probably had been placed and brought together by a bird, possibly a tui, or, as the people at the Zoological Society's gardens in London name it, the “poi bird,” thereby following Captain Cook's very mistaken rendering of its Maori name. Upon this platform a rat had evidently raised a superstructure which was to serve him as a permanent home, or perhaps Mrs. Rat required a nursery for her children; but on this latter point we have no evidence. The back of the rat's nest was of moss, mixed with a few twigs, similar to those forming the platform, and no doubt were raised from the latter, and used as a stiffener, to give solidity to the back wall of the nest. The sides and front were of moss alone, and the entrance was not visible, but could be found by touch of the fingers. The covering material used for roofing-in the top gave to the structure a most singular appearance, and readily gave the idea that a parody of the human head had been manufactured. This most remarkable result was obtained by the introduction of an entirely different material for the roofing of the dome—namely, the hairy covering taken from the young fronds of the black punga. These being of a stiff hairlike texture, black and shining, made a very good but rough imitation of a crop of short-cut bristly hair. The interior of the nest was lined with the large, coarse, and serrated leaves of the so-called native currant, which would seem anything but a desirable lining. The small tree which held the nest, some 10 ft. from the ground, was growing in close proximity to a large rata-tree—the species that produces a mass of scarlet flowers at Christmas time. Into the top of this large tree extended the rope-like vines of a second species of rata, having small white flowers, which, although it reaches and competes for light and air with the tallest forest-trees, never attains to the dignity of a tree itself. This rata-vine is named in Maori “akatea,” and is in Maori story sometimes the vehicle by whose assistance the spirits of the dead descend to the reinga, or place of abode after death. By the aid of this natural ladder my rat evidently climbed up to the nest, and by this road carried all the material for the building of the nest.

After finding No. 1 rat's nest I kept a sharp look-out for others, and in a few weeks' time discovered No. 2; but for the

succeeding twelve months I have been unable to find any others. This nest was in the upper branches of a young ribbon-wood tree, alias thousand-jacket or lace-bark, all of which names denote a remarkable characteristic of this small tree. Its inner bark is made up of a great number of separate wrappers, each of which is finer than writing-paper, and each wrapper is made up of fine fibres, held together by a glutinous tissue, and has the similitude of open lace-work. This lace-work, or easily-divided bark, is superior in design but somewhat after the same plan as that peculiar material known as bass matting, a European mercantile product exported from Russia, and greatly used by British gardeners in tying plants to a support. I think the lime- or linden-tree (Tilia europœa) supplies this material. This small ribbon-wood (Hoheria betulina) was supporting and thickly surrounded by a bush-lawyer (Rubus australis), and near by was growing a large toitoi (Arundo conspicua), having seed-stems with their straw-coloured feathery grass-heads. This nest was about 7 ft. from the ground, and the outer part was built of the flower-heads or culms of the toitoi grass (a grass almost identical with the pampas grass of South America). These yellow culms were massed together, to the size of a man's two hands when placed together, and were mainly held in place by the entangled runners of the bush-lawyer. The inside was lined with the coarse leaves of the native currant-bush, as was also No. 1 nest. The using of this coarse lining was remarkable, for the toitoi flowers would seem a warmer, softer, and more suitable substance than the thick, harsh, disconnected leaves.

These are the only two nests I have seen, and I am unable to say for certain what species of our rats is the architect, but suppose they were made by the black rat (Mus rattus). It still seems to be the general idea in the northern parts of New Zealand that the original native rat is the black animal resembling Mus rattus of Europe, whereas the true Mus maorium is a smaller-sized rat, very similar in colour to the Norway rat (Mus decumanus). I was greatly interested to notice in the publication of “New Arrivals at the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park,” mention made of the safe arrival of fifteen or more rats received from the Kermadec Islands, presented by Lady Glasgow, the wife of our present Governor. I have little doubt but that they will be found identical with our small grey-brown rat (Mus maorium). Sir Walter Buller informs me that he saw in the zoological department of the British Museum specimens of this New Zealand rat, which had been presented by Sir George Grey many years ago, and which up to the present have remained unnoticed.

Mention is made of the black rat by Mr. T. F. Cheeseman, of Auckland, in his interesting paper on New Zealand rats,

wherein he remarks that many persons consider the Maori rat extinct, but that “others, whose views are perhaps equally entitled to attention, believe that the small black rat still found in forest districts and on the outlying islands, and which occasionally makes incursions in considerable numbers into the settled portion of the country, is the true indigenous species.^*

In vol. xxvii., p. 238, of the Transactions Mr. R. I. Kingsley heads his paper “Arboreal Nests of Bush-rat (Mus maorium),” but I fail to see that he satisfactorily proves the identity of the nest-builder in his communication; in fact, from a newspaper cutting of later date it seems to me that he champions the black rat. A farmer residing in Aniseed Valley complains that a hitherto unnoticed species of rat of a black colour has commenced to climb his fruit-trees and eat the fruit suspended from the branches. The editor replies that Mr. Kingsley says this black rat is the original rat of New Zealand (Mus maorium). Therefore I maintain we have as yet no satisfactory proof as to whether Mus rattus or Mus maorium are the arboreal nest-builders, and I favour the idea that it will prove to be Mus rattus. One reason for assuming this is that the Maoris make no mention of this habit pertaining to their edible rat of long ago. Further, I am inclined to suppose that this nesting in the small branches of trees and shrubs is a newly-acquired instinct, possibly developed to aid the black rat (?) in the struggle for existence against his stronger and cannibal neighbour Mus decumanus. If so, it is very remarkable that instances of this new habit should appear simultaneously, and be recorded for the first time in two places so far apart, and with Cook Strait intervening.

To show how prevalent the black rat is in the North Island I will give a few extracts from letters received:—

Under date the 27th June, 1895, Captain Thomas Good, of Oeo, Taranaki, writes, “The native black, or tree-climbing, rat is not uncommon. It is different both in size and colour to the Norwegian rat, the latter being dingy-brown, and the former black, inclining to slate underneath.”

Mr. H. C. Field, of Wanganui, writes on the 16th May, 1895, “As regards the rats, it is the black kind which the Maoris of this part always told me was the ‘kiore Maori,’ and the brown Norway one is called the ‘kiore pakeha.’ They eat the former greedily, because it is exclusively a vegetable feeder, while they reject the latter on the ground that it will eat excrement. I was present when Buller exhibited the small brown or fawn-coloured rat from the Pacific Islands and said it was the true ‘kiore Maori,’ and I was

surprised at the assertion, both because I had never seen such a rat, and because our Maoris had always identified the black one as the rodent in question. I made inquiry lately at the principal grain-stores in town as regards the rats, of which they catch a good many, and find that the only animals of the Mus tribe which trouble them are the brown Norway rat and the common mouse, though the black fellows are far from uncommon in the gardens and orchards around the town. I often, too, see dead rats, which have been killed either in the streets or thrown there after death, but they are all brown ones. I do not at all believe that the black rat is driving out the brown one, but should say the opposite was the case, as the brown fellow is carnivorous, while the other seems exclusively a vegetable feeder. In England, too, the brown rat drives out the black one.”

A further communication, dated the 26th June, 1895, says, “‘Kiore’ is not an unusual part of Maori names [i.e., personal and local.—T. W.] I do not think the Maoris ever caught rats in pits as traps, the native tawhiti being arranged on the same principle as an English mole-trap, and wonderfully effective; but it is by no means unlikely that the rodents were often caught in the kumara-pits, which were beehive-shaped excavations in dry ground, usually on top of ridges, and had only a square opening at the top, just large enough to enable a person to descend into them. If a rat got into one to eat the kumaras he would find it hard to get out, particularly as the pits were usually lined with weki, the fibrous lower part of a fern-tree stem, which rats seem greatly to object to gnawing. It was also used to line potato-pits.”

Mr. J. R. Annabell writes me as follows: “I cleared the bush off a hill near the junction of the Ketaruki and Wanganui Rivers, and found four or five pits about 4 ft. to 5 ft. deep, with overhanging sides. The natives told me they were dug many years ago to catch rats. I found the remains of several kiwi (Apteryx) in them, which skeletons I have since set up.”

Wishing to find out if the black rat (Mus rattus) occasionally comes to this country in the shipping, I sent circular letters to several of our leading merchants who have their storage buildings near the shipping at Port Ahuriri. Messrs. Williams and Kettle have sent me word that a black rat, having a longer tail than usual, has been caught on their premises, and placed in spirits. It will be deposited in our Museum at Napier. Some eighteen years ago I picked up a dead specimen of Mus rattus at the front entrance to Messrs. Murray, Roberts, and Co.'s store at the same place. These two instances are fair evidence that this rat will be found arriving in the shipping. It is notable that Mus rattus is never found occupying buildings or corn stacks, but keeps to