Page:The Kea, a New Zealand problem (1909).pdf/128

124 In order to give a graphic idea of the ordinary routine of a Kea-hunter’s life, I cannot do better than quote from a letter from Mr. J. S. Ryan, who for many years hunted this mountain parrot around Mt. White, Canterbury.

He writes as follows:—“To hunt the Kea for pleasure or profit is an undertaking that only those who are sound in wind and limb can indulge in with safety. It is not for the untrained plainsman or the ‘tired Tims,’ who would most propablyprobably [sic] take more time thinking how to get to the mountain top than they would spend in climbing there. Kea hunting is mostly combined with rabbiting, since one could hardly hunt the Kea from day to day throughout the year without a spell. Rabbiting ‘between whiles’ on the low lands affords the necessary change. The usual thing is a weekly wage, and so much per head for Keas, free ‘tucker’ for self and dogs, a pack-horse, a riding horse, camping outfit (consisting of tent, ‘billy,’ knife and fork, tomahawk, and piece of wire for grid), bread and flour, currants for ‘duff’ on wet days, butter (if there is any), with as much mutton and potatoes as you care to pack up. To these you add the weekly sporting paper and magazines. A good appetite between meals comes of its own accord. You start ‘out back,’ say, on Monday morning after coming in for supplies. You have a fair day’s ride to the ‘out back’ hut, where you pull up for the night, hobble the horses and sleep like a top after the usual good tea of chops, potatoes and ‘billy’ tea. Next morning you leave half your supplies at the hut, load up the pack-horse with the remainder, and then start on your way again. Now comes the river, which you cross continually as you work your way up to its source in the same gorge, until you reach the very heart of the mountains, and the towering rocky walls close in on you on either side. It is here that the shrill whistle of the blue mountain duck strikes on your ear through the rush and roar of the river as it twists and leaps among the boulders and dashes its spray on to the bush that comes right