in the very act of making night hideous, so that all doubt has been removed as to the bird from which this startling cry proceeds; this night-call was referred to in “Notes on the Birds of New Zealand,” Trans., Vol. ii., pp. 45, 46. In 1854, at Rockwood, in the Malvern Hills, we first became acquainted with the Wekau; it had been captured in a drain or ditch, and lived in a half-tamed state for some time, beneath the house, till unfortunately destroyed by a visitor's dog. At the present time a very fine owl may be seen at the Christchurch Acclimatization Gardens, where it has lived in confinement about two years; we believe it was obtained from the Cass River. In its customary position, when at rest, the great length of the tarsi are concealed by the plumage of the breast, the head feathers are so raised as to increase the apparent size of the head, this lessens very much the hawk-like appearance which the prominent beak usually gives to preserved skins of this bird; the large brown eyes are very striking, but so sensitive that the owl apparently suffers great discomfort when forced into daylight; the irides then become scarcely discernable; the tarsi densely feathered, on examination appear remarkable for their depth no less than their length, the skin feeling loose or free to the touch; in dried skins this of course could not be observed; much of the peculiar character of the nostrils also is lost in preserved skins; the toes dull flesh colour, sparsely covered with hairs; the claws white, much curved, and sharp. The entire plumage is of warmer shades of brown than most of the specimens which we have seen, but has no claim to a white face; the outer edge of the facial disk, where it covers the auditory conch, is whitish grizzle; the nostrils appear raised or swollen. The Curator of the Gardens states that he has heard the cry uttered but rarely, it was of a most dismal character; it is fed on mice, rats, and birds; it refuses to eat any kind of meat that may be thrown to it; its sight is thought to be affected. Some years since, we saw a fine bird which had been caught on the preceding night by a bushman, on the Upper Rangitata Flat; the intelligent captor signalized his good fortune by chopping off the head of his victim with the ever-ready axe. The look of satisfied triumph, as the bird was pointed at, we never saw equalled, except perhaps on one occasion, when a friend, fresh from town, entered the house with the mangled remains of a tame kaka, which he had blown almost to pieces in a kowhai tree, from whence poor Bess had unfortunately studied the stranger's face too closely. A Wekau entered a shepherd's whare at the foot of Mount Hutt, and remained for several days, perching in the roof; on one occasion it seized a mouse which a cat had just brought in. Another visitor of this species remained in a station on the Rangitata for some weeks. Last year, a fine light-coloured specimen was obtained at the Point Station, Malvern Hills; when killed it was perched on the rail fence, not many yards distant from the house. Of the examples in the Canterbury Museum, one was procured from the Kakahu Bush, near