The Kea.

Free Lance, Volume XVII, Issue 913, 11 January 1918, Page 11

The Kea.

(For the N.Z. Free Lance.) <r '^. d of wisdom, deeply scheming 'Tis of thee.l sing; Parrot of the mountains, screaming Loud, on flying wing. "With the note, of sadness blended In thine echoing cry— Tell me, when the day has ended And the night draws nigh. "" \ •■'Dost thou not feel sad and lonely In tlry high domain, Eating roots and berries only, Life, there, to sustain?" "Lonely? No, I've friends in numbers Hovering around. But when winter snow encumbers AH. this mountain ground,. "And we fly to lower levels Seeking food and cheer. All the farmers cry, 'You devils, We don't want you here!' ' "Then they try to shoot or snare us With their traps and guns, No more mercy do they give us Than they show the Huns! • 'They accuse us of marauding. . _. 'Mong their woolly flocks. We, the good, green-coated parrots, . From the mountain rooks. ' 'True it is we watch the climbers, ■ Clad in hob-nailed boots Walk with foolish mountain rhymers O'er our stones and roots.. "True, we eat their soap, and proudly Steal small things that lie Round their camps, while loudly owners " • Shout, as off we fly. "And we tear their tents to tatters, Stockings, boots, and clothes, If we get the chance; what matters Climbers' angry oaths ? "But kill sheep? Ah, no, 'ti s falsely Said, the beasts just die! Look at me, and tell me truly, Could I tell a 2ie?" Off he flew, with screech discordant, Cunning in his eye, On green wings with scarlet lining O'er the tree tops high! —J. C. Thomson.