NATURE—AND MAN

Grey River Argus, 17 September 1932, Page 3

NATURE—AND MAN

CALL OF THE FOREST. SOME PLAYFUL PARROTS. (Edited by Leo. Fanning). Her never the fever-mist shrouding, Nor drought of the desert may blight, Nor pall of dun smoke overclouding Vast cities of clamorous night, But the voice of abundance of waters. Cold rivers that stay not or sleep, Greets children, the sons ami the da ugh tors Of light and the deep. —From “New Zealand,” by William Bomber Reeves. The late Mr Reeves, a brilliant New Zealander, warmly loved the evergreen forest of his native land. “Though no great traveller,’’ he wrote, “I have seen beautiful landscapes in fourteen or fifteen countries, and yet hold to it that certain views of our forest, spreading round lakes and over hills and valleys, peaceful and unspoiled, are sights as lovely as are to be found. Whence comes their complete beauty? Of course, there ore the fine contours of mountain and vale, cliff and shore. And the abundance of water, swirling in torrents, leaping in waterfalls, or winding in lakes or sea-gulfs, aids greatly. But to me the magic, of the forest—l speak of it where you find it still unspoiled — canies first from its prodigal life and continual variety. ’’ Of course the average New Zealander has some pride in his country’s forests, but does he know the worth of it, as national wealth? Occasionally it requires a visitor from another country to remind us of the tourist value of marvellous wooded hills and valleys which are warmly admired by travellers from the British Isles, Europe, America and Australia. Here is a remark of Lord Burnham (head of the British Press delegation which visited New Zealand a few years ago) after a drive through a valley, flanked by a ferny forest: — “What particularly struck me was the exquisite beauty of the verdure of the forest and the limpid blue of the streams and rivers.” A distinguished scientist, Dr Johannes Schmidt, was deeply impressed by the splendour of the woodlands. "Tn the native forests alone,” he said “New Zealand has a heritage to be treasured. Preserve what you can for the admiration of visitors like, myself, and for the perpetual enjoyment of your own sons and daughters; and in preserving the forests you will also assist in preserving your wonderful bird life. Your fern beauty is unrivalled.” Nearly every town of New Zealand is within easy reach of a stand of native forest. The people of every town

should appoint themselves honorary custodians of a suitable scenic woodland. THE COMICAL KEA. Now Zealand’s Kea is one. of the most amusing birds in the world, as its scientific name, Nestor notabilis, indicates. Some years ago Mr Edgar Stead, a zealous student of bird life, had some of these parrots in a large aviary. He invited me to observe their tanties —and I was truly astonished at the quaintness of their capers. He placed two or three large pieces of drain pipe and other obstacles on the grassy ground for the kcas’ fun-making, and they did not disappoint us. They chased one another through the pipes and under and over the other things just as frolici some schoolboys would do, and they ! varied their play remarkably. Suddeni ly they would become very sedate, . and sit solemnly on the branches of a I tree, as if meditating fresh drollery, i During one of these lulls, Mr Stead reminded me to look out for a domestic drama. He pointed to a young Mr Kea, a very handsome chap, making love to a very pretty Miss Kea, who seemed pleased with the frisky advanc--1 es. Tn the background was Mrs Kea. a rather old hen. with whom young Mr Kea had been previously mated. She was angrily watching the flirtatious pair. At last she made a quick swoop, buffeted Miss Kea from the perch, and took her place beside her fickle spouse. He sat crestfallen, in evident awe of his stern mate. He was eager to be off. but was afraid to budge. However, the comedy would repeat itself later, so Mr Stead said. THE FRIENDLY KAKAPO. Probably no other country has a. more likeable bird dhan New Zealand’s “ground parrot” known as the kakapo, which helps the Dominion to maintain its reputation as a country of distinctive birds. Here is a parrot of brilliant plumage—moss green enriched with flecks and spangles of gold, with warm brown markings on the back and wings—a splash of colouring which should be flashing in the sunlight, but the kakapo is a night rover, to which the gorgeous raiment serves no purpose, useful or ornamental, in the darkness of the forests. The bird has large wings, well proportioned to the size of its sturdy body, larger than the -Australian cockatoo’s, but the wing muscles are weak, and the kakapo has not enough power of flight to escape from the hunter’s dog. “Though it is a parrot, I have never known the kakapo to learn to talk,’’ remarks one nature-lover. “Its i brilliant intellect works in other dir ections entirely, for it never tires of learning new and different tricks. In fact, it /demands special attention from one who makes it a friend. A kakapo in a bush camp is the life and

soul of the lonely habitation, and the wonderful and original tricks performed by this entertainer are beyond description. On one occasion, when exploring the heights of that wonderful rugged cape, located at the mouth of the Waitaha River, in Westland, known as Bold Head, my party came upon a large male kakapo basking in the warm sand. It was captured after a short chase, and although it set up a defence, it was perfectly subdued within an hour, and began to play with its captors —something in the nauature of a cat’s play. During the three days it was kept in camp it was persistently looking for excitement and play. The bird is usually referred to by the back-country settlers as the “ground parrot”, but. being a splendid climber, it frequently finds its way into the tops of the medium-sized shrubs and trees. When climbing, much use is made of its powerful beak; a half right and left method is adopted. ’ ’ The food of this quaint bird consists of grasses, berries, seeds ami leaves. After a good meal in the night and early hours of the morning it retires to its secluded resting place, where the daylight hours are usually spent.