I may inform my reader that when the female bird produces an egg, one or more of the male birds of the family in the neighborhood at the time of its production, assemble and take charge of the egg. If several eggs are laid by different birds, the males collect them together and take charge of them, until the females of the whole colony have done producing and laying eggs for the season. The male birds then proceed to hatch out the eggs.
There was much contradiction and great argument over my statements in regard to this representative of the feathered tribe of New Zealand. The wise men—scientists and naturalists—“sat in council,” and asserted that I could not possibly know anything about the breeding and hatching of these birds in their native state, as I had never been out of England. This first egg was considered such a wonder that it was decided to send out to New Zealand and bring over some of the chiefs of the various tribes, in order that something might be learned about the manner of production and hatching out of this egg. The chiefs from the Antipodes came to see this great phenomenon, and pronounced their opinion. When they had given in their verdict, I begged to differ with their views, and expressed myself accordingly, and proved that these savages were simply ignoramuses on the subject. It was then decided to send them back to New Zealand in order to bring over a male bird to hatch out the egg, and after much trouble this was accomplished.
The chiefs returned to New Zealand and obtained and shipped to England a male Apteryx. On its arrival he was shown, and immediately took to sitting on and hatching out the egg laid by my female bird. During the time this male bird from New Zealand was sitting on the first egg of my pet Apteryx, he died suddenly, and there was a great investigation as to the cause, but no definite information was gleaned at the time. I carefully examined this dead Apteryx, and although I was not allowed to make a post-mortem examination, I found out the cause. There were a great many mice about the place, and I discovered that they had attacked him while he was sitting on the egg and eaten through his skin and flesh to the bone. No doubt this took away his life. I have never known, heard, or read of greater or more devoted duty on the part of any of God’s creatures than was displayed by this male Apteryx, a stranger from New Zealand, a prisoner, faithfully and tenderly doing the duty nature had ordained it to do, and that even when its vitals were being gnawed out. Such bravery is seldom met with. I may be pardoned for bringing this seeming trivial thing to the notice and for the benefit of my readers. Of course, the eggs of my pet bird were never hatched out, and I was a greatly disappointed man.
During the long spell my pet bird was breeding she was also awfully bitten by mice; the mice had made one considerable hole in the under part of her body. I had done all I could, used all my ingenuity, and tried all the ways and means of destroying the vermin, but as I dared not use poison I found it impossible to trap and catch them all. I nursed my pet bird with that care and thought I had many other animals and birds (I think even more so), and was rewarded by having her life saved.
The Apteryx is, to my knowledge, the most curious bird I have ever had to do with in my long experience.
CHAPTER VII.
MORE ABOUT THE APTERYX AND OSTRICH TRIBE GENERALLY.
The Apteryx produces only two eggs in a season. The first young Apteryx hatched out accompanies the female bird, its mother, during the time the male bird is hatching out the second egg. They then all join as one happy family, and journey along through life together.
The most remarkable feature of the habits of this bird, is that the female conceives, breeds, and produces the egg without the aid of the male bird—as remarked before.