often end even more tragically: the sheep in its blind rush often comes to a precipice, and, with the same mad impulse that brought it so far, it leaps over the edge and is dashed to pieces on the ground below. In this case the kea leaves go its hold as soon as the sheep begins to fall, but follows the unfortunate animal in the descent, to satisfy its hunger on the result of its labours. Some writers think that many inexperienced keas kill sheep in this way, even though they may not have intended to.

I will now give some typical accounts from men who have seen the bird at work:—

Mr. Don. Finlayson, late of Glenthorne Station, Canterbury, writes, “In December, 1898, in company with Walter Grieve (now manager for Mr. F. W. Cordy, Hororata), when walking along the edge of Lake Coleridge, at the foot of Mount Oakden (on the Acheron Run), we saw a kea rise suddenly about a chain ahead of us. We walked to the place and found a sheep lying with a hole torn in its back. The sheep was so severely injured that we had to kill it. When mustering in the same year on Totara Hill, up the Wilberforce River, I was walking quietly along, and coming to the edge of a alight depression in the ground, there right at my feet a kea rose from the body of a sheep. I examined the sheep. It was a merino wether, perfectly sound, but had been so severely injured by the kea (a hole had been torn in the sheep's loin, the kidneys were protruding, and some of the fat had been eaten) that I had to kill it.”

Mr. Charles W. Symonds, Christchurch, writing of his experiences while living on the border-line of Canterbury and Otago, says, “While mustering, I have on many occasions actually seen the kea on the sheep's back (loin), and generally three or four keas would be flying round the sheep, which would be running at the tail of the mob. The sheep would run until it was thoroughly exhausted and had to lie down from exhaustion and fright.”

Mr. R. McKenzie, Blackmount Station, writes, “Seeing your request re the kea in the local paper, I write to say that I have seen the kea at work on the sheep's back. The latter was driven frantic by the bird's attack, ran wildly in any and every direction, eventually making a bee-line down a steep slope, and, as if blind, took a ‘header’ over a precipice, more than 100 ft. high, and was dashed to pieces on the rocky and shingly bottom. The kea hung on to its prey until the moment the unfortunate animal left terra firma, when the bird relaxed its hold, but flew down almost on the very track of its prey, when it was lost to view by the writer and a shepherd who was there also.”

Mr. Donald Burnett, Sawdon Station, Burke's Pass, writes, “It was in the afternoon; I was mustering in Boundary Gully, Mount Cook Station, at the time, and had a mob of sheep in hand, and was about 2 chains away, when a kea—one of several that were flying around—settled on a sheep. The beast at first gave a jump or two and then made downhill at a great rate. When the sheep got into motion the bird spread out its wings, and as the pace became faster the wings came together at the perpendicular. The sheep continued its race until both were lost to view, after going some distance through the storm.”

Mr. Thomas Wilson, of Alford Forest, Canterbury, writes, “Some years ago a kea rode a sheep into the woolshed on the Double Hill Estate; I was an eye-witness, and closed the door. The kea was caught, and I killed the sheep, which was badly picked on the back, and the entrails were pulled out just over the kidneys.”

Mr. J. Sutherland, of Benmore Station, Otago, writes, “In 1887 I was keeping a boundary where keas were numerous, and on several occasions I saw them attack sheep. I saw sheep running down the hill with a kea hanging on. I followed after it and found the sheep lying in the gully with the kea tearing away at it. I drove it off. The sheep was not dead, but the wool and the skin was torn and a hole was made in the sheep's back, just above the kidneys, a wound from which it would have died; however, I killed it to put it out of pain.”

Mr. H. E. Cameron, of Longslip Station, Otago, writes, “One day while mustering in the summer-time of 1895 I saw a kea on a sheep's back, clinging to the wool and digging his beak into its back, and a number of others flying about. I went down to the sheep with some other men. Some entrails had been pulled through a hole in its back, and we had to kill the sheep. I was camped at the foot of Davies Saddle (Longslip Station) one foggy day, and at 3 o'clock heard a great screaming of keas, so I went out to see what they were at. On going down the creek a short distance I saw a sheep coming down the face of the hill as fast as it could, with a kea on the hips, and twelve more birds following and screaming. The sheep when it got to the foot of the hill ran under a bank, and the others watching as if waiting for a feed. I went up to the sheep, after throwing stones at the birds. When I got up to the sheep it had two holes in its back; the kidney-fat had been eaten, but the kidneys were lying bare in the sheep. The entrails were pulled out through the hole in the back. The sheep was not dead, but had to be killed.”

Mr. J. H. Bond, of Templeton, gives his experience while on

the Mount Algidua Station: “I saw a kea settle on a sheep and begin to tear away at its back while I was within a few chains. The sheep bolted downhill into a gully, and stood up to its belly in the snow at the bottom, from 3 to 4 chains off. It looked to me as if the kea then drove its beak deep into the flesh; the sheep gave a big jump and stood still. When I went to examine the sheep it had a bad wound just over the kidney, quite fresh in appearance.”

Mr. Hugh McKenzie, of Etalvale Scation, Nightcaps, writes, “In 1884, on Lorne Peak Station, Wakatipu, in the month of July, there came a heavy fall of snow. One morning early myself and two other men went out to look up the sheep; at 10 a.m. we sighted a mob. As we got within about a quarter of a mile of them we could make out a number of keas flying about the sheep, making a great noise screeching. We at once hastened on to the sheep, which were stuck on a point of a spur about 3,000 ft. in altitude. At a distance of 300 to 400 yards we saw two sheep floundering in the snow with a kea perched on the rump of each sheep and at work on the loins. These sheep would be distant from the mob about 80 yards, and fully 20 yards from each other. As we sighted them, however, notwithstanding our singing out and hurrying up to the sheep, neither kea quit his position until we were within 20 yards of them. They, however, did not damage these Sheep enough to cause death, so we came just in time.”

Mr. J. Morgan writes, “On Mesopotamia Station, in July, 1905, one afternoon at 2 p.m., the kea settled on the snow alongside the sheep, and then hopped on to the sheep's back. The kea then started to pull a tuft of wool out above the loins, and then another, &c. Then it inserted its beak; at this the sheep ran into the mob, and the kea just flew off, and when the sheep was quiet again it once more got on to its back and started to use its beak again. At this the sheep plunged downhill into the snow. The kea went through the same performance again. All this occurred inside of five minutes. Of course we did not let the kea kill the-sheep.”

Mr. A. S. Smith, of Fairlie, writes, “The first occasion on which I actually saw a sheep killed was one time while mustering. I noticed two sheep that had been passed some little distance, and while in the act of hunting a dog for the sheep a kea flew down to the back of a sheep, which made headlong down the hill with the bird all the while on its back. After running some little distance the beast stumbled and fell. Then the bird rose to its wings until the sheep got up and continued its race downhill, evidently much terrified. The bird then flew on to the sheep's back again while it ran. This oc-

curred, I should say, three or four times before the bottom of the gully was reached. When I went to investigate I found the sheep not quite dead, but bleating with evident pain, it would appear on account of a hole in its back, close up to the shoulder.”

Mr. A. Wilson, of Pembroke, Lake Wanaka, writes, “I have seen them attack a sheep at midday, when it was quietly feeding, and it would rush away as fast as it could go, until it either tripped itself or fell down exhausted, when the keas that followed it would start picking the wool off the loins. I have followed sheep under these circumstances and found the keas picking them until I drove them away and set the sheep on to its feet again. I have also found sheep actually able to walk about a little, even though they had portions of their intestines pulled out through the hole in the loins and hanging down their sides These, of course, we killed.”

Mr. H. Heckler, of Lumsden, Southland, writes, “I was keeping boundary up the Gladstone Gorge, after snow muster, and was gathering stragglers off the high country, when I ran across about twenty keas. Two of them were on a sheep's back. The balance were flying round him (a stray wether) making a terrible noise. The sheep was going at full speed down the spur. I watched where he ran to and followed him down for about three miles. When I got down the sheep was dead, with two holes (one on each side of the backbone) in him, and most of the mob of keas were picking out the kidney-fat. I crawled to the rock where the poor sheep was lying, and the keas were so busy at work that I killed three with my stick.”

Mr. Andrew Watherston, Ree's Valley Station, Glenorchy, writes of his experience in 1904 as follows: “I was looking out a mob of wethers, and found that the keas had been killing them, and there were eight dead. As it came on a dense fog I had to return to my hut. Early on the following morning I went out to the wethers again. Arriving where the sheep were camped, some time before sunrise, I could hear the keas calling, and following up the sound I got to where there were about forty of them. They had about three or four hundred wethers rounded up. The sheep were huddled close together, and the keas were flying over them and alighting on their backs. When the keas started to pick the back of the sheep it would start to run round and round the mob; the kea would rise, but as soon as the sheep stopped the bird was on its back again. This continued for a little time; the sheep, apparently getting sulky, lay down with its neck stretched out and its lower jaw resting flat on the ground, when it showed no further resistance, but allowed the kea to pick away at its back. I never saw a sheep, after it once sulked, to show any further