WHERE THE BELL-BIRD CHIMES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2883, 23 June 1909, Page 91

WHERE THE BELL-BIRD CHIMES.

I.— TT7IS

Bht Edith Howes.

In the topmost' branch of a giant rimu tree hung a nest of slender twigs *nd softest moss and tree-fern down. Sunbeams stole to it between, the leaves, spring winds rocked it to and fro, bird musicians of the hush sang round it "tr-eir choruses of joy. But only the patient builders of the nest saw and heaTd these things: the baby tuis within knew nothing, felt nothing but the desire for warmth, for &s yet they were not out of the shell.

There were four of them, tiny, half-formed creatures, each lying in its oval white-walled house, and each floating close to the- too, where thrilled the tender warmth of the mother's feathered breast. Helpless, unseeing, unh earing, they 1-ay there, vet in the silent little frames were being formed the beginnings of 'those mysterious organs of flight which should one day give all power in* the air, those -exquisite mechanisms of fluted throats wh.i-ch should fill t'l-e arches of tha bvsh with sweetest melody.

The days passed. " Our little ones are coming out," crooned the mother in the nest. "Our little ones are coming out, coming out, coming out!" sang the joyful father from his bough above her head.

One by one the little ones came out, four bald, wide-throated babies to be f'V.l and guarded. Morning by morning, noon by moon, the parents hunted tfny creeping things from bark and leaf and^ si-em to satisfy the cravings of their hungry brood; night by night they sheltered them from cold of storms, from savage beaks of nightmaraud'aig owls. The nestlings grew. Black-plumaged, bamded with white a.bout their graceful throats, they left ihe rest at last, to learn from never-wearied parent birds the arts of flight, of song, of quick pursuit of flying food. Now cam© the freedom of the bush. All gladsomeness, all joy was "theirs. Poised with dainty feet on rata. toughs, flirting slim heads and brush-edged tongues this way and that among the glowing scarlet flowers, they drank their fill of golden nectar-wine. Swooping froni tree to tree, soaring and falling through the sunny upper air, they learned the ecstasy of flight. They ■woke the pale cold dawn with eager peals of liquid melcdy; they shng and called and chattered in the underwood throughout the busy, happy day; at eve -they belled their soft good-nights before they hid their drowsy head 3 J n sleep. So sumoner danced itself «.way. The honeyed flowers dropped off, and winter came, with insect-hunting fcrr the daily needs, and shivered cowering under thickest boughs from stress of sudden storms. Sweet spring returned. Whitft tassek hung where white throat-bands had been, and burnished bine shone down the shapely backs. Love ruled each heart, for mating

time -had come. All day the bush resounded with the songs and courtesies of wooing birds, till choice was made, and soft-eyed pairs began to build their homes.

Again frail nests were hung in giant trees, where peeping sunbeams found them out, and spring winds rocked them to and fro. Again were baby tuis warmed beneath a mcther's sheltering breast, and taught and guarded through their days of helplessness. Again there ©anie to them the freedom of the bush, and all the ecstasies of radiant life.