NATURE—AND MAN

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume LXIII, Issue 6497, 6 January 1939, Page 4

NATURE—AND MAN

FRIENDS OF BIRDS

Kindness in Cities (Edited by Leo. Fanning). Happily the number of feeders of wild birds— easily tamed by kindness, —is increasing in many towns of New Zealand. Wellington has plenty of folk who find heartfelt pleasure in providing, meals for birds. One dear old lady, who lives in a flank of Mt. Victoria, has daily calls from many thrushes,, blackbirds, starlings, sparrows and other species. When she had a com crete retaining-wall made on her steep section, the builders weie oidered to put in plenty of drainage bores, so that sparrows and starlings j could havel shelter and nesting places. I "It looks like a miniature monastry of Tibet," a visitor said, when he saw ithose birds perched at the entrances of the holes. The diet includes fragments of suet, bread and other scraps and seeds, to enable various birds to have a feast. Well do they know their meal times. Mice, too, muster there for some nibbles'. It is a little paradise except for one devil—an ugly fat cat that sneaks some of the food. I was told that this cat did not try to pounce on the birds or mice. Perhaps it is too lazy; perhaps it prefers the other fare, obtainable without an effort.

During the past year, I have seen seagulls ialighting on the roofs of houses half a mile or more away from the waterfront. They call for snacks which friends put out for them every day. A friend told.me that he used to throw lumps of meat on his iron roof, but reluctantly he had to cease the practise. Seagulls used to come at dawn and agitate for the dole. They clamouixu and they scrambled up and down icof with a din which banished Joep from their benefactors. A Feathered Samaritan Ellis O'Brien tells a good story in "Nature Magazine" about a friendly wren. "Last summer," he writes, "a pair of phoebes built a nest in my grape arbor. They were friends of three years' standing, but this was the first time they had built in an accessible place, so I decided to try photographing the young birds when they hatched. I went out one 'sunny morning, set up my camera, and hid myself behind a tree, about twenty feet away. The phoebes accepted me with out comment, and after a few minutes resumed feeding the fledglings. As I watched them, snapping pictures every now and then< I noticecj a male house wren hovering around the camera, chattering and scolding in true wren style. He would fly up to the trellis; flit around nervously; edge up to the nest; (alternately singing and scolding) then dash off to a neighbouring bush and catch a caterpillar or two; come back, work up a little closer, and dash away again.

"Finally, he flew directly to the nest and perched just above it, cocking his- head and inspecting the occupants minutely. After a while, he flew away, returning presently with a grub in his mouth. I suspected what was about to happen, but I couldn't believe it possible, l'or I had never heard of anythnig like it before. He went to the side of the nest, and when the baby birds, thinking it was one of opened wide, he poked the grub down the throat of the nearest one! He repeated this several times, and I, was able to get a picture of the odd performance. I

wondered whether he was really trying to do a good turn, or whether the habit of feeding babies was so strong in him that he couldn't view an open mouth without wanting to find food to put in it!" Pines in the Wind

The pines are reeling galleons Tossed on windy nights, Their singing masts strung with stars For Swinging lights. The pines are phantom galleons Adrift through samite mist, Their wraith dike sails the floating clouds By ghostly moonbeams kissed. The pines are pirate galleons, Their chant a weird rune; Their treasure-hold& with silver filled Stolen from the moon. The pines are cai'goes galleons Laden with sweet spice; The God of the trees built them so, And launched with beauty thrice With music, fragrance, form, Pine galleons ride the storm. —By Marie Fischer in "Nature Magazine." Trees—The Best Soil-Savers Mr T. A. F. Stone, author of "Universal Race Suicide," tersly states the case for Forest conservation in these lines of his own:— Treees. need the soil—the soil needs the trees, Both need sunshine —clouds, rain, breeze. The pact destroyed, the angry sun, Will wreak his wrath and pity none. Will scorch and starve and kill the seeds, The fruits—the flowers—the grass and weeds, Will raise fierce 'storms to flood the land, To change its soil to desert sand. The soil will then deficient be, Its goodness washed into the sea, And Nature's balance all upset, Will death, disease—-decline beget; Unless men cease their senseless greed And spare and grow the trees they