ANIMAL LIFE IN KENNEDY’S BUSH.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XCVI, Issue 14310, 2 March 1907, Page 13

ANIMAL LIFE IN KENNEDY’S BUSH.

(By GEORGE R. MARRINER, F.R.M.S.) The animals of Kennedy's Bush are by no moans its smallest asset, and now that civilisation, has obliterated most of our native fauna from around Christchurch, it is fortunate that in preserving ‘Kennedy’s Bush we have within easy walking distance of the city a sanctuary where many of our native birds can be seen in. their natural haunts. There is no reason why the bush should not be securely .fenced off with wire netting and other native birds liberated there, and so add to its popularity. The insect.life is plentiful, hut not at all unusual. The cicadas can be heard by their rasping noise, and under the stones and bark the queen wetns can bo found. Tb© brown lizard is very plentiful and can be seen at almost ©very step scampering off to the nearest shelter.

The absence of grass fires no doubt accounts for this abundance, for on crossing a piece of ground burnt by the recent grass fires, not a lizard nor an insect could be seen. These fires must destroy large numbers of small animals, by smoko and heat if not by the flames), for at one time the brown lizards were as plentiful all. over the hills as they nor.' are in Kennedy’s Bush. A search would very likely discover the pretty green or green and grey tree lizards, and no doubt among the rocks the grey lizard also finds a home. The avifauna is by far the most conspicuous of the denizens of the Bush, for not only is the variety good, but in some instances the birds are present in numbers. This is perhaps due to the fact that, the advance of civilisation has driven them from their old feeding grounds to this secluded hush-clad valley. Indeed, during the time we spent exploring tho bush, there was no pause in tho chorus—first the sweet song of the little grev warbler burst on the ear, as she trilled down the scale, making the air rich with harmony; then the tub's mellow note came uip tho valley a« he called to his mate from the tree-top, and all the while, like a choir singing a. double piano accompaniment to some gifted soloist, there was the quieter chirping of the silver-eye or the indignant cry of the fantail as it darts hither and thither after some unfortunate moth. From behind some tree trunk the pretty little tom-tit, with its quaint cry, peeped out inquisitively to spy upon the intruder. 1 do not remember ever before hearing so much bird music or seeing so many birds in. the same area of bush. Altogether there are some thirteen kinds of native birds, nine of which were seen during a visit on Monday. The most numerous variety is the little white eye, or, as. it is sometimes called, the wax-eye, silver-eye or ring-eye, owing to the conspicuous ring of white wax round the eyes. On almost every tree these pretty little green birds could be seen, either hanging head downwards against a tree . trunk or peeping in between the leaves for some dainty morsel. One moment they were perching in, the trees giving out a series of sad, hopeless “ tweeks,” as if the cares of life were pressing too heavily, and the next thing they would be flitting over the bush, chirping and twittering as if troubles were to them unknown. On account of their fondness for the American blight, they arc often termed blight birds, and by the way, they diligently search into every nook and cranny, a large number of insect pests must be devoured. These little birds, though now settled in New Zealand, are not natives, but are supposed to have come over from Australia in 1856, for they were not seen here before that year. By 1861 they had spread all over New Zealand, and are now well established on the adjacent islands. Tho Maoris, not knowing this little bird when it first arrived, called it the tauiiou, or “stranger.” It is pleasing to find that that sweet little songster,.tho grey warbler, is present in good numbers in Kennedy’s Bush, though it is more often., heard

than seen. It is a small grey bird with slight green tints, and, like many of the singing birds, its tints are very sombre. . Sometimes it can be seen hopping about in the trees, but it is not at all conspicuous. To sit in the bush, with its many shades of green gleaming in the sunshine and to hear first on, one side then on the other the sweet song of. this bird as she sings down her scale, trilling on each note, is worth while walking to the hush to enjoy. . The warbler is imposed upon by the shining cuckoo, who, though it does not have tho cuckoo note, like its cousin, in Europe yet follows her bad habit of laying its eggs in another bird’s nest. The young cuckoo soon after it is hatched begins to starve tho young warblers by eating all the food, and then by dint of much edging and pushing finally throws them out of their nest. The warblers having lost them family in this way are kept busy in trying to satisfy tne enormous appetite of the intruder.

I was very pleased to find that the tui, or parson bird, was still to be found in the bush; they have been unknown around Christchurch so long that it seemed strange to find them within two hours’ walk from the town. So scarce are they becoming that while camping in the recently burnt hush at Otarama in 1906 I never came across one. They are the largest of the day birds living in the bush, and their black coats, shimmering with green and touched here and there with white, make a pleasant break among the green foliage. The white tuft of feathers at the neck give him his wellknown name, hut his actions are much too undignified and frivolous for a wearer of the black cloth. His song is loud, rich and varied, and ho is a great mimicsometimes his song commences like tub toll of a hell, then comes a wild burst of joyful melody, to he followed by a sound as of choking. He can often be seen perched on the branches of a high tree, and after showing how many birds he can imitate, he disappears into the_ hush, giving his peculiar staccato whistle. Both species of the fantails are present, the black fantail, which is confined to the South Island, and the pied fantail. which is found all over New Zealand. These inquisitive little fellows have little fear of man, and will dart about after a moth within a foot of one’s face. The New Zealand pipit, or ground lark, which is common on the hills, can also be seen in the bush, though 1 was surprised to see one perching on a tree. *ln the valley the yellow-breasted tom-tit makes its nest, and the perky little bird can often be seen peeping at the intruder. On the soutli edge of the bush it has been stated that the little brown creeper can be seen, but we did not get a glimpse of it. .The men. who live about _ the place also state that the native canary, or yellow head, land the bell bird can. often be heard, the latter being noted for its beautiful bell-like notes. According to report, the shining cuckoo pays) the hush a visit in the spring, and uses the grey warbler’s nest in which to lay her egg. The cuckoo does not sound the wellknown cuckoo note, but has a very musical song. Like its European cousin, it is only here for the warm weather, and long before the cold weather approaches it is winging its way to some of the islands north of Australia. Formerly the longest distance that migratory birds were known to fiy over sea was three hundred miles, but the _ New Zealand cuckoo every autumn flies nine hundred miles, and is back here again in time to herald the spring. A bird that I saw was very much like our South Island thrush; but as one has to take a quick look as they flew past, I could not be certain. Around the knoll above Kennedy’s Bush, sailing round in great circles, Were large numbers of harrier hawks, and on one peak fourteen were seen at once. They are interesting birds to watch, with their slow, graceful mo-, tion and their sharp eyes, watching every movement of the small animals on the hillside. The owls are represented by the little morepork, whoso quaint little cry of “mo-poke” can be heard across the bush, as he heralds the night, and warns bhe small birds who delight to tease him at daytime that he is about to take Ms nightly ramble. The poet was correct when he said that: — No biref of the forest e'er mates with him, AH mock him outright by day; But at night, when the woods arc still and dim, The boldest will shrink away. He is seldom seen in the daytime, hut picnickers who remain until dusk are sometimes fortunate enough to hear hi a weird cry. It id. very likely that there are other native birds in the bush. I saw several that I was unable to identify, owing to the quickness with which they passed from view. Of tho introduced birds, only two kinds were seen, namely the goldfinch (which was there in large number's) and the blackbird, which seems very rare. It is to be hoped that strong meanurefl will be taken to prevent the socalled sportsman from taking firearms into the bush, for if the birds are once destroyed, the chances are that they can, never he replaced. About half a mile from the bush I was fortunate enough to got a glimpse of what I believe was a Maori rat. Twice I saw the greyish-brown animal, smaller than the ordinary rat, and with a long thin tail, disappear over a rock into "the tussock. The tail and the brown hindquarters made it eacily distinguishable from the grey rat. A long search failed to unearth it, so I had to leave, with tho hope that it will increase and become plentiful. This brown rat is supposed to have been brought here by’tho Maoris, and was at one time very plentiful, but the European rat, when it came, was too powerful an opponent. They are now getting very rare, and though they were plentiful many years ago at the hays, they seem to he almost on the verge of extinction. >