The Bird of Summer.

The call to the open air is in that little bird's cheery trill. You may hear it in every park and garden copse these summer days. The riroriro, or grey warbler, is one of the very few native birds that has not disappeared from the neighbourhood of the towns.

The mingling of indigenous and exotic trees and shrubs in many a garden harbours the warbler, and the coming of the summer brings the voice that perhaps has been silent for many weeks. The Maoris say that the riroriro makes two appearances in the locality in the year, the first in early summer, the second well on in autumn.

In some places, however, it is heard all the year round. That sober-coated little bird, how sweetly plaintive its song that is never quite finished—a chant that never a foreign bird introduced to this country can emulate or imitate. There is a bitter-sweet in its song, a kind of blending of happiness and sorrowful longing. The Maori has a song about the warbler that expresses something of the soul in its music.

“Tangi e te riroriro, te tohu o te raumati,” it begins. I once heard a Maori woman in the Urewera Country sing it to the tune of the song itself, and that bird-lilt has always remained in my memory. “The riroriro is singing, a sign that summer has come.” The song goes on to praise the chant of the bush-hidden singer:

“Come forth, O little bird!
My ears ensnare thy melody,
The chant that brings the gushing tears
Of joy and love;
The chant that thrills,
The song that cheers
The very soul of me.”

To the Maori there is a spirit in that bird-song that involuntarily causes the “fount of tears” (puna-roimata) to flow. But there is a joyful note—summer has come, let us rejoice and be glad for summer has come.