TAKING OF THE TITI

Evening Star, Issue 22596, 13 March 1937, Page 11

TAKING OF THE TITI

MAORIS AND MUTTON BINDING APPROACH OF NEW SEASON The taking of the titi, or mutton bird, as it is more familiarly known, is a most interesting and strenuous business, and sidelights on the operations of those engaged in catching these birds were given to a ‘ Star ’ reporter last week by Mr F. H. W. Traill, of Stewart Island, who has had a close association with many of those so engaged on the islands adjacent. Mr Traill has frequently visited these islands, and during the taking of the census especially, had to visit some ;of the lesser-known islands with almost • unpronouncable names. Some of the bigger islands were visited by means of an auxiliary ketch, especially chartered for the purpose owing to their exposed situation. t Most of these islands are temporarily inhabited by a fairly large number of Natives who are given sections, but whose living quarters are in huts in a little group, so that they make a little community. These people have come in a group, having chartered a large vessel to deliver them and their stores to their island. METHOD OF LANDING STORES. Their method of landing and unloading their stores and gear is rather remarkable, Mr Traill explained, owing to the surge that sweeps up in an uninterrupted course from the Antarctic, and which is broken only by striking these exposed islands. Naturally, the landing has to be done with extreme care. The method is for the boatman to back the boat in towards the boulders, just keeping it from'actually touching the rocks. The men jump ashore, and form a line, each one a few feet from his companion, up to the hut on the side of the bushclad hill. One man in the boat then throws the first bundle ashore, whieh is deftly caught by the man nearest the rock and passed from hand to hand until it reaches up to the hut. _ In the space of a few minutes the dinghy is unloaded, and returns to the craft for another supply. The same process occurs when the mutton-birders load their season’s catch on to the waiting vessel. Several hundreds of kelp bags, full of preserved mutton birds, are passed down similarly from the hut to the waiting boat. Occasionally the boatman allows his boat too close and it touches the rock. If the sea is receding it is immediately hooked up, and with a drop of about Bft, caused by the swell receding, the boat naturally overturns and deposits its cargo into the sea. The season for the catching *f the titi, or mutton bird, begins on April 1, and Natives are the only ones privileged to take these birds by virtue of the Treaty of Waitangi. The Maoris usually a few days before the season opens, bringing with them an abundance of stores for what to them is a prolonged picnic, though strenuous work goes on all the time. Very little meat is included in the stores, as mutton birds, cooked in a variety of ways, is sufficient. GETTING THE BIRDS. With the actual business at hand, each one of the party has to do his or her share. In every direction, on whatever island the Natives have taken up quarters, are to be seen holes in the ground, similar in size and appearance to rabbit burrows. The catcher takes a short stick about a foot long, and

kneeling on the. ground, pushes this stick into the burrow and brushes it about against the sides. He then examines, the stick,: and if particles of down are -adhering to it ; then he knows there is a fat young bird in the hole. Next he pushes the stick along the hole the full length of his arm, measures off the distance in the same direction above ground, and with a short light adze he cuts a neat tuft of turf out and exposes the burrow. This time he inserts his hand without the stick, as the bird is now within reach, and he soon drags out the protesting inhabitant, biting and scratching for dear life. . A sharp pinch on the top of the skull, or a quick bite with the teeth on the soft head, and the bird is dead. Then,* holding it at the tail end, the catcher quickly squeezes out the oil in its crop which has not yet been digested. Plucking a wisp of down, he plugs the mouth so that no drops will get on to the body of the bird. Oil on the body makes plucking extremely difficult later on. The young bird is now seen to be about twice the size of an old titi, and covered with beautiful fine bluegrey down. The extra size is ; of course, only the fat caused by the rich feeding of one chick by two industrious parents. The beautiful covering of down is finer and better than eiderdown, and now that the Germans have disciDvered a means of rendering it odourless it promises to become extremely valuable. It is bagged up and exported. Before going to the next hole the catcher carefully replaces the tuft of turf so that the parent birds will still return to the same nest in the next season. The process is repeated at the next burrow. On occasions it is found that the; young bird cannot be reached by hand owing to roots of trees or big stones. A novel means is then used to extract the bird. A long frond of fern is taken, the leaves stripped, and the thin, whip-like stem is pushed along the hole until the young bird is felt scuffling about. The fern, is slowly twisted and winds up quite a ball of down on the bird, sufficiently strong to enable it to be dragged out and despatched. This work goes on till the catcher has as many birds os he thinks he can handle in plucking for the day—say, 80 to 100 birds—and, picking up his bundles, he makes for the huts. Tracks are cut radiating from the huts, and these help his progress, but the carry-., ing home of the birds is a heavy task. PRESERVING AND PACKING. Plucking the down is the next stage, and this is done with astonishing rapidity, each bird being roughly plucked, so that the young sprouting feathers beneath are exposed. The partly-plucked bird is dipped into boiling water for a moment only, when the rest of the feathers are easily rubbed off, until the clean, smooth skin is left. The birds are then tied into two bundles of five each, and slung across a beam, where they are left until next day, when they are cleaned, and the wings, neck, and feet are cut off short. Contrary to what one would expect from such a gamey, highly-flavoured bird, the titi when fresh is clean and wholesome. The entrails seem to be wholly a lump of firm, white fat. This fat, if used at once, has no odour, and can even be used for baking purposes, but it soon deteriorates when exposed to the air. After being cleaned, the birds are salted and laid in barrels overnight. Next day they are drained and packed tightly into kelp bags, whieh in turn are wrapped round with bark, one end being set into a flax basket; after which the birds are ready for sale or storage for the owner’s use. The bark round the kelp bags stops the sweating, otherwise the contents i

would soon become mouldy. Thus packed they will keep for over a year in perfectly fresh condition. Incidentally, the making of the kelp bag is interesting. Suitable pieces ,0f the tough bull kelp are gathered arid split to form a bag, which is blown up and tied before being dried in the sun! When perfectly dry, it is untied arid allowed .to soften a little and rolled up for future use. In the olden days the Maoris preserved the birds in the same way, but, having no salt, they cooked the birds in their _ own oil and packed them in bags which were filled with more oil, making them airtight. This to a certain extent is still done, and those birds are known as “ tried out ” birds. The Natives used to treat pigeons, wekas, kakas, and young penguins in the same way before the Europeans came. Perhaps the most delicious of the birds used by the Natives is a little sea bird known as the Korure, a fluffy ball of fat, excellent eating, though not very plentiful. When the day’s work is done the Maoris arrange entertainments among themselves, and they have regular little orchestras, most of them being expert players of the steel guitar. Little dances are held, and altogether the muttonbird season is one of the pleasantest periods of the year for those engaged.