Art. LI.—New Zealand Bird-song: Further Notes.

By Johannes C. Andersen.

The pairs of (63) were not absolutely definite, but the effect was as written: they glided smoothly across the intervals, but were not slurred; as in (61), the lower notes were more open. This jangle also was uttered in less than 2 seconds. Jangle (64) took barely a second; (64A) was a slight variation, enclosed between expletives; (65), occupying about three-quarters of a second, opened with a barbaric twang on the c—whilst a jangle, it was smoothly legato.

These jangles sounded as though the bird merely set free the mechanism, and then the bells producing the notes swung freely in no determined order—though many jangles were many times repeated. There was an allied series, however—bell cascades or runnels—where the bird seemed to exercise more control over the notes, each runnel being distinct, clear, and orderly. The cascade (66) occupied about a second; the sound was as a mellow bell–almost flute-like, with broad nasal opening. A very clear runnel was heard in (67): the notes, whilst not staccato, were well divided. (67 A) was a curious variant: each occupied about a second. The runnel (68) was preceded by a long light note on e, and succeeded by a diminishing note on a, the whole occupying a second and a half. The trebling of the notes of the sequence of (69) gave this runnel a distinctive charm. The opening and close of (70) related that runnel to (68), but the runnel itself, a common one, was quite different. It may be noted that the jangles and runnels were generally sung during flight, or immediately before or after. The notes of (71) were clear whistles, followed by kraw; or one whistle might precede four reedy notes, as (71 A); or four whistles might be separated from four anvil notes by a kraw, as in (71 B). The three low notes of (72) were not bell, nor whistle, nor reed, but a thick muffled sound like qug qug qug; at times they were sounded singly, at times followed by kraw. In (73) two bell notes were followed by a staccato whistle, the whole followed sometimes by a click; once there was a still further addition to the click of kraw krurr.

One tui pursued by another cried the notes of (74), up to five pairs, the ten notes occupying a second and a half. A different cry was (75): here the pursuer uttered the first part, repeating the couple on a many times in quick succession; the pursued bird similarly repeated the slurred note from d to c sharp. The sound of the tui's flight is on the note of (76): a mackintosh shaken quickly and vigorously will give the quality of the sound. Once it could be vocalized furr-a-ea—fuff fuff fuff. At times, through this fuff fuff of the wings, one could plainly hear a sharp krr, followed by a long-drawn, soft, highly pitched, but rather sweet note (77)—as though the mechanism of the wings grated occasionally and creaked during motion. The sound of (78) was also produced during flight; it was like one of the horn-sounds of the multifarious-voiced motor-car. In (79), a very characteristic phrase heard very frequently on one day, the reed note was at times omitted; at times the full phrase was repeated several times in succession.

The Bell-bird.

Whilst not so plentiful as the tui, the bell-bird was seen often in 1911–12, sometimes at very close range. One came flying into a tree with the cry tiu tiu tiu—a cry it has in common with the tui—and at once began prying busily under the leaves, hopping quickly from twig to twig. It would pause for a moment to give utterance to the common theme of (13), then on again searching for prey. The pitch again constantly varied, and it was very difficult to catch the intervals, the note giving the most difficulty being the

times with a small wooden mallet very quickly and very lightly. The effect of this note was extraordinarily sweet and plaintive, the whole theme of five notes coming like the rich voice of a contralto singing whilst on the point of tears. Sometimes the place of this fifth note was taken by a note slurred from e flat to d—a note without the bell sound, but with one more approaching that of the unwinding of a sharply jerked fishing-reel. I heard only one bird sing these notes; it sat but 6 ft. or 8 ft. above me, singing parts or the whole of the theme for some considerable time. Each pair of notes took about a second. The bird was of beautiful bright-green colour, much brighter than the duller olive of the other bell-birds seen—more of a parra keet green. The plumage along its sides was rather raggled and ruffled. Its entire body seemed to enter into the production of the notes, contracting all along the sides on the emission of each one, the neck being stretched out and the beak slightly open. It turned from side to side, singing one note to the left, one to the front, one to the right irregularly, turning through a semicircle, as though before an audience, unseen by me, of Haku-turi or Nuku-mai-tore. It raised the body with each note, as though to eject them with a jerk in the case of the first four, and to pour out the sound of the fifth, the vibrating bell. An ordinarily coloured and smaller bell-bird appeared to be its companion during part of the time I saw it. I saw it again on the following day, when the vocalization of the notes was as in (20C) and (20D); again, as before, the final closed consonants were not breathed on. The theme was even more musical than on the day before, the turr of (20C) being entirely bell-like. The quality of this bird's song was quite different from that of any other bell-bird ever heard by me, and its beauty impressed me much more than even that of the sweetest tui song. In (21) the notes were a sharp incisive whistle, and so of its variant (21 A), which occupied less than a second in utterance. The second of the first four notes in (21 A) was sometimes replaced by a rest of equal duration, and sometimes the first four were preceded by a click.

The Fantail.

Five fantails, three black and two pied, came to call, tweeting and flirting and displaying their beauties, all practically within touch; the phrase (6), sung quickly several times in succession, was the one most often used. In (7) the twi was the constricted sound—the i short as in “hit”—but the twee of the g was more open and sweet. This song was continued for half a minute without break; not always in the order of the notes given, but in various combinations of those sounds. The bird still flirted about whilst singing, hopping restlessly here and there.

On the 10th January 1912, a fantail came to call whose body above and below was a beautiful dark brown, wing and tail feathers black. It was in

company with a little pied paragon that constantly displayed to the full its white tail with central black longitudinal bar, spreading its wings at the same time, flitting about very daintily, and tweeting with bright-eyed insouciant exuberance. In (9) and (11) the i of the ti has the sound in “tit,” the e the sound in “net”; (11) was repeated many times in succession at twilight. The song (10) was very vigorous, constricted e sounds followed by whistles on g much softer in tone; their different quality caused them to sound an octave above their real pitch. The triplets of (13) were repeated five or six times.

I am not sure that it is altogether friendliness that makes the fantail so tame, or whether it is not rather sheer curiosity and pugnacity; for on two occasions when I spoke or called fantails sitting close by me they uttered their rapid tweet tweet with mouth agape as they jerked from side to side whilst facing me. The mouth is not usually agape when the note is uttered; and, moreover, it will be remembered that when the sea-birds came in their great flock to attack the land-birds the fantail was the first to fly to the assault on the invading host, and, being put into a “towering rage,” flew forward crying ti ti, ti ti, presenting his spear to left and right.

The grey warbler.

This bird had lost all shyness in 1911–12, and was repeatedly seen close at hand, often two together, and generally singing. They were also plentiful in 1912–13. Three years ago the notes of (13) were taken down and queried as a warbler's; again, in January, 1912, (14) was noted as a warbler song, though the quality of the notes differed from the usual song, and the same of (15) and (15 A). I often followed the sound, but it was elusive as Wheke, goddess of song—often heard, but never seen. One day, however, whilst seated under a totara, I saw a warbler whilst actually singing the doubtful theme, followed by the ordinary song. No. (16) was repeated six or eight times, each set of six notes and rest occupying about a second. I was able to compare the quality of the two sounds: (16) was cheery and bright; the usual song is much softer, more plaintive, and in comparison slightly ventriloquous, so that the two songs appeared to sound from two different places, the ordinary song being the farther removed. I now noted, too, that the first note of the six was always fainter; at a distance it would be so subdued as to be inaudible, and the listener would hear odd instead of even numbers, as in (13), (14), and (15 A). An ordinary song was once opened with (17)—a quiet little chuckling guggle of notes, much softer than the song itself, and repeated in two or more sets of three notes. I saw two warblers guggling and singing within 6 ft. of where I stood. One discovered an unhappy

insect under a leaf; after the titbit he sat on a twig in the sunlight, and, with bill partly open and tail quivering, sang his sweet, plaintive, minor melody. It may have been a thank-offering, it may have been a requiem—both appropriate; but, considering the minor quality of the song and the apparent gentleness of the bird, it was most probably the latter.

Two days afterwards, on the 12th January, 1912, I again saw two feeding. They kept close together, flitting quickly from place to place. Once one of them, as it were, kissed the other—very quickly, just a peck; probably a bonne bouche was offered and taken—a grubby affectionate kiss. Now and again a very soft, barely audible, exchange of notes took place, like monosyllabic endearments. I could not detect if they were uttered by one bird only or if both took part; it was as though they were saying You! You! You! You! (18). Two were heard uttering the cry and reply of (12); and when they came and settled above me, busily peering, one continually repeated quickly the notes of (19). In the vocalization the d sounded as when one speaks the word “dear” without letting the tongue quite touch the palate. The first five couple of notes took little over a second in utterance; the tee tee was nearer a whistle. The theme of (20) was very softly sung; it was almost a bird-whisper, with a sound somewhat like the rubbing of a wet finger on glass; each group of eight notes was uttered in a second.

It looked very pretty to see the warblers searching for prey amongst the misty-foliaged Coprosmas that here and there grew in glimmering thickets under the taller trees. The birds would try to settle on the thin springy twigs, sometimes opening and closing the tail very quickly; and sometimes they would poise, fluttering, in one position, tail downwards and broadly spread, so that on the ventral side they showed a bar of white along the tips of the tail-feathers. When fluttering amongst the green leaves where the branch-tips were too delicate for foothold, the waft from their wings made the surrounding green quiver like mist blown by a faint wind.

The wren.

The faint chirp of (3) was uttered whilst the bird was running up a branch, constantly flitting its wings. No. (4) is practically a variant of (1). The notes of (5) and (6) were considerably faster than the throbbing chirp of a cricket, but no louder, if as loud, and certainly not so penetrating; the slur e to c in (5) was at times a to f, as indicated. One wren, answering to another, ran down in a vibrato of quarter-tones as in (7); there would be ten or eleven notes in the drop, which only occupied about a second. No. (8) is the cry of a young wren, which came to call. It settled on a twig

immediately before my face, and each time I called it stretched towards me with extended fluttering wings, uttering the long vibrato with mouth agape. The real mother bird soon came, sat beside her extravagant offspring, and coaxed it away. The notes of (1) and (2) might be vocalized titit or tutut, in combinations of two, three, or more notes. A wren sounded this tutut whilst ascending a vine in its quick, jerky fashion; it was tutut and a jerk upwards, tutut and another jerk, as though the bird had to wind itself up for each movement, and one heard the snapping of the tiny pawls of its lilliputian winding-gear. When the note was strengthened, as in the middle part of (9), the aperture was evidently widened, from the i of it to the u of tut, and the note dropped a semitone.

The yellow-breasted tit.

The cascade song (1) was continued in the strain (4). The vibrato, dropping a quarter-tone, was so rapid that it was almost a burr or throb. The whole was sung almost as softly as the chirping song of the wren; the bird sat still, and the tail quivered in sympathy with the vibrato. On the 16th January, 1912, the cascade song dropped from b to g by five steps, so that the intervals would appear to have been slightly less than quartertones. No. (5) was noted in Kennedy's Bush on the 18th January, 1912, and was sung several times. The notes of (6) were sharp whistles; the bird usually announced his sudden appearance with these, as though they gave the warning call of the watchman of the wood-fairies. In reply to the call (7) in a series of three pairs, another bird answered with the cascade song of (1) six or eight times in succession.

The parrakeet.

The common cry of (1) was different both in pitch and vocalization in (4). A curious combination of sounds was heard in (5): it was as though a squad of raw recruits were being drilled by an irascible officer.

The long-tailed cuckoo.

Several variants of the cry of (1) are given. The tiueet of (6) was repeated alone a dozen times or more at intervals of 3 or 4 seconds, interspersed with tsiuu of (7). Whilst two birds were circling over the trees, wheet wheet wheet was repeated quickly, four times a second, many times at intervals.