the whole excursion we never saw or even heard the note of the Tui; we shot a Kaka, heard a Parrakeet, and saw a single Huia (a fine female bird), which, on our near approach, went bounding through the mountain vegetation with the swiftness of a greyhound. Formerly this was a favourite haunt of this elegant mountain starling, which could always be attracted by an imitation of its peculiar whistling cry; now it has all but vanished. Seeing that excellent insular preserves have been acquired by the Government, it seems to me a great pity that an effort is not made, before it is too late, to capture a few live Huias and turn them out on the Little Barrier, on Kapiti, and on Resolution Island. Unless this be done, the final extinction of this species can only be a matter of a few years. Its powers of flight are so limited—its progression being generally effected by a bounding movement through the branches—that, once safely introduced, there would be no danger of its quitting its island home for the mainland; and the difference of climate at the three points I have indicated, would give the experiment every chance of success. The cost would be very small, as this bird is easily snared; and, if the Government would not defray the trifling expenditure necessary, the task might be properly undertaken by our Acclima-tisation Society. From a zoological point of view, it is even of more importance to preserve the Huia for the student of the future than the little Stitch-bird, about which so much has of late been said and written. The Huia is more tamable than perhaps any other New Zealand bird, and will accept suitable food almost immediately after being caught; so there would be no practical difficulty in effecting its transportation to any part of the colony. It should be remembered, also, that this was part of the original scheme proposed by Lord Onslow, whose celebrated memorandum to his Ministers gave the first impulse to this island-conservation which has so taken hold of the popular fancy. During a recent discussion in the House of Representatives as to the propriety of protecting the Woodhen in the South Island it was stated by a Minister of the Grown that he possessed authentic information that this bird was increasing on the Canterbury Plains, and might therefore be left to take care of itself. As to certain favourable localities, this statement is no doubt quite true; but to those who remember how abundant the Woodhen was on the plains in the early “sixties” it will seem now that the bird is practically a thing of the past. I recollect when travelling on horseback towards Waimate South in 1859, accompanied by a single Maori, we were overtaken by darkness, and had to camp in the open, using our saddles as pillows. It was a fine night, although somewhat dark, and my companion's little dog spent the