NATURE—AND MAN

Gisborne Times, Volume LXXIII, Issue 11832, 13 January 1933, Page 3

NATURE—AND MAN

PARADISE OF CHILDHOOD

THE VISION SPLENDID

(Edited by Loo Fanning)

The highway marches sturdily lu market-town and mill, Hut I would find u little road that loiters up a hill— A IttlU vagrant, woodland' road, grayfibbohed through the green,

Where berry brambles bar the way and orchard elders leall. —-Margaret Lee Asldey.

The spread of the tramping favour among the young 1 oik—and among some who are not so young—should increase the number of earnest effective workers for the protection of native forests and birds. It is bard to imagine that those rambles in delightful, inspiring scenes will lail to create some active enthusiasm fog the preservation ol natural beauty.

“THE CHILD IS FATHER TO

THE MAN.”

Some people, as they grow older, gain a deeper Jove of nature, but usually this wonderful world is at its best for the very young, to whom the days and nights are lull of miracles. It is a very real world which the young child secs as a revelation. That is the only time when colours, sounds, scents and tastes have their proper values, clear of tho unromantic confusion caused bv scientific explanations. To the simple child, Nature’s bank (full of notes of birds, gold of flowers and silver currency of sun-lit rivers) gives compound’ interest. Would not, or should not, a Rockefeller gladly east away his millions to regain the paradise of childhood ?

It is well for adults to remember that vivid impressionism of childhood. Friends of the birds and trees should take suitable opportunities to put tho right thoughts into young minds.

JOY AND PEACE OF THE

WOODS

Sir Walter Duller, author of “A History of the Birds of New Zealand,” passed many happy hours in tho native forest. “There is nothing more delightful on a sultry summers day than to recline in some cool shade and inhale 1 lie sweet fragrance of the native woods.” he wrote. “All is still and cjuiel save tho hum of the bees in the air and the loud drumming of the Tarukilii as it clings to the hark overhead. Then there falls upon the ear the well-known cry of the koheperoa — not the vociferous scream of the early nic-rning, but a low sleepy erv—issuing from some lolly tree-top where the bird is resting during the beat of tlie day. From a neighbouring tree conies the full rich note of the tui. uttered at short intervals like the slow tolling of a silver hell; then tho low whistle of a kaka calling to its mate to come and seek repose while the sun is at its meridian; then all is still again, and nothing is heard but the soft murmur of insects in the air and the languid cry of a solitary fantail as its flits around with full-spread wings and tail, dancing from side to side, or the sweet thrill of the ugirungiru, full of pleasant associations.”

FEARLESS HABITS OF THE KAKA PARROT.

Many observers have written about the playful ness of the kaka as well as the bigger parrot, the kea. Many years ago. when the late Mr. AV. L. Travers was on a remote sheep-station, near a big forest, kakas came to keep him company. ‘ ‘During the winter season/’ he wrote, “the wild birds often unhesitatingly enter tiie house for food, making themselves thoroughly at home, and even roosting on the cross-beams in the kitchen on specially inclement nights. Two ol these in particular soon learnt how to open the door of the dairy, which they were very fond of getting into, in order to regale themselves on cream and butter, both of which they appeared to like excessively. 1 have had several of these birds billing on the eaves of the house in the evening, waiting to he fed. and coming readily to roccvo from the hand pieces of bread spread thickly with butter, and strewed with sugar. But they rarely cat any ot the bread itself, dropping it as soon as they had cleared off the huttet and sugar. If one bird happened to have finished his portion before the others, lie unhesitatingly helped himself to a share of some neighbour’s goods, which was always yielded without! the slightest demur. they arc very foutl of raw ilesh, and 1 have seen them hovering in front of a. sheep’s pluck hung on a tree, precisely as a humming-bird hovers in .front of a bower, eating fmoments which they tore off, preference to the lungs. 'When anxious to get into the house, they take post on the window-sills and beat at the window with tlieir beaks until admitted. They are very mischievous, however, invariably cutting oil’ the bottoms of any article of clothing which may happen to he left within tlieir reach.’’ A TUI’S COMIC INTERJECTION. Preceding articles have mentioned the Uli’s cleverness in mimicry—a natural skill which once impressed itself memorably on Sir Walter Bailor. “The Maoris fully appreciate the mocking-powers of this bird,” he stated, “and often devote much tune and patience to its instruction. There are some wonderful stories current among them of the proficiency it sometimes acquires; and I may mention an amusing incident that came undqr my own notice at Uangitikei some years ago. I had been addressing a large meeting of natives in the 'Whare-riinaiiga, or Councilhouse, on a matter of considerable political importance, and had been urging my views with all tlio earnestness that .the subject demanded. Immediately on the conclusion of. my speech, and before tho old chief, to whom my arguments were chiefly addressed, had time to reply, tui,

whose netted cage hung to a rafter overhead, responded, in a clear emphatic way, ‘Tito!’ (false), lhc circumstances naturally caused much merriment among my audience, ami quite upset the gravity of the venerable old chief Nepia Taratoa. ‘Friend.'

.he said laughing, ‘your arguments are verv good, but my inokai is a very wise bird, and be is not jet convinced!’' ” “FIRST THINGS FIRST." “First things first!" remarked a friend to me the other day. ”V by worry about native hires at a time like this when so many people are in need of help?” He meant wellhut bis remark lacked commonsense and vision. There is always a danger, in a big crisis, that some matters of immeasurable impoituncc to the national welfare will be neglected. For example during Hie Great War, when man-power was called up to the utmost- for military service, much farming land lapsed into wilderness.

A weakening of the policy of preservation ol lorest and bin.-life non would only make bad worse. The farmer has been termed “the backbone of tlie country.” No doubt today, h 0 would be inclined to put an adjective, aching, in front ol the backbone. Whether the faimci legat'd* himself as at the front or the back of the country at present, U is certain that the forest is the back-bone of the fanning. because forest, regulating the flow of water, is the necessary insurance policy against destruction of farming country. Some time ago a big advertising campaign, for paint was based on the slogan: “Save the surface, and you save the lot.” Long-sighted men and women in New Zealand say mih . “Save the forest, and you save the lot—but to save the forest, you must save the birds.”