daybreak at "Atrichia Slope." with the view to removing large quantities of fallen trees, vines, and entangled rubbish at the western end of No. 2 mass, where I had twice seen the female Atrichornis. The scrub was hot and steamy after the continuous and heavy rains, and scrub leeches troublesome. After spending some hours watching for a shot at the female, I finally set to work with axe and hoe to remove more of the débris, in hopes of finding No. 2 nest, if there were one.
On 14th November I watched the male Atrichornis in a mass of débris ("B" in plan), and at the part numbered 8 in the plan, and standing behind an ironwood tree, ready in case the female should also show herself. He called again and again, and I saw him move in a mass of dead pine twigs and limbs on the western side of the long fallen tree. I felt hopeful the female was with him, as he was ruffled and cleaning his plumage and behaving in an unusual manner, and until he called again I was beginning to think he was the female. He ventured out into the sunlight, kept silent, and sat on a twig with his feathers puffed and wings drooped, just as a domestic fowl will often do when she has chickens feeding about. He did not see me, and I got a really splendid view of him. He remained in the sun for several seconds, and, shaking his plumage, broke the silence with a loud and shrill "chirp," and disappeared in the mass of débris. I remained watching, and again saw him a few times before I made another search in that heap for No. 2 nest. While I was watching the male here, a Dollar-Bird (Eurystomus pacificus) was calling in a tall tree near, and the Atrichornis promptly answered by imitating its notes. I never on any previous occasion got such a good sight of the Atrichornis as I did to-day. My radius of search had by this time (14th November) extended to a distance of 250 yards from the locality of the nest found on 16th October, and most of the work was carried out in rain. On the 17th November, when removing débris in No. 2 mass, I heard a strange noise at the pine log which lies through the northern side of this heap, and the sound resembled a bird in an excited state, and as if it had young ones. It came from beneath the log, where it was up 6 inches from the ground. After much heavy work moving tangled masses of débris, limbs, &c., away, I discovered that the sound emanated from a small grey frog, which was sitting on a dead vine caught under the log.
This day I again tried to follow the male Scrub-Bird to his roosting-place, and so get an idea where the female and No. 2 nest (if it really existed) were. But this I found impossible. He was in No. 1 mass of débris at 6.30 p.m., when he called, and, leaving it, he apparently worked his way through the dense scrub and débris (silently) and crossed the southern end of the narrow timber track and entered the mass of débris shown in the bottom left-hand corner of the plan, for here he uttered one note at the part marked 6 about 7 p.m., and the scrub at that hour was very dark. This was the only time that I heard this bird call on the
