NATURE—AND MAN

Northern Advocate, 17 December 1932, Page 3

NATURE—AND MAN

PARADISE OF CHILDHOOD,

VISION' SPLENDID

(Edited by Loo Fanning.)

The highway marches sturdily to market-town and mill, But, I would find a little road that loiters up a hill — A little vagrant, woodland road, greyribboned through the green, Where berry brambles bar the way and orchard elders lean. —Margaret Lee Ashley.

The spread of the tramping fervour among the young folk—and among some who arc not so young —should increase the number of earnest effective. workers for the protection of native forests and birds. It is hard to imagine that these rambles in delightful, inspiring scenes will fail to create some active enthusiasm for the, preservation of natural beauly. “The Child Is Father To The Man.”

Pome people, as they grow older, gain a deeper love of nature, but nsu ally this wonderful world is at its best for the very young, to whom the days and nights are full of miracles It is a very real world which the young child sees as a revelation. That is the only time when colours, sounds, scents and tastes have their proper values, clear of the nnromantlc confusion caused by scientific explanations. To the simple child, Nature’s bank (full of notes of birds, gold of flow ers and silver currency of sunlit rivers) gives compound interest. Would not, or should not, , a Rockefeller gladly cast away his millions to re gain the paradise of childhood/

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

Joy And Peace Of The Woods. Sir Walter Bu Her, author of "A History of the Birds of New Zealand,” passed many happy hours in the native forest. “There is nothing more delightful on a sultry summer’s dav tJia.ii to recline in some cool shade and inhale the sweet fragrance of the native woods,” ho wrote. “All is still and cjuio tsave the humm of the bees in the air and the loud drumming of the taralcihi as it clings te the bark overhead. Then there falls upon the ear the well-known cry of the koheperoa —not the vociferous scream of the early morning, but a low sleepy cry —issuing from some lofty tree-top where the bird is resting during the heat, of the day. From a neighbouring tree comes the full iic.li note of the tui, uttered at short intervals like the alow tolling of a silver bell; then the low whistle of a kaka calling to its mate to come and

seek repose while the sun is ar- its meridian; then all is still again, and nothing is heard but th<* soft murmur of insects in the air and the languid cry of a solitary fantail as it tilts around with full-spread wing-; and tail, dancing from side to side, :ir the sweet trill of the ngirnngirn, lull of pleasant associations.’ ’

Tearless Habits Of The Kaka Parrot. Many observers have written about the playfulness of the kaka as well as the bigger parrot, the ken. Many years ago, when the late Mr W. L.

Travers was on a remote slioop station, near a. big forest, kakas came to keep him company. “During the winter season,” he wrote, ‘‘the wild birds often unhesitatingly enter the house for food, making themselves thoroughly at home, and even roost i ing on the cross-beams in the kitchen on specially inclement nights. Two of these in particular soon learnt how to open the door of the dairy, winch they wore very fond of getting into, in order to regale themselves on cream and butter, both of which tnty appeared to like excessively. 1 •.rvc had several of these birds billing on the eaves of the house in the evening;, waiting to bo fed, and coming readily to receive from the hand pieces of bread spread thickly with butler, and strewed with sugar. But they rarely cat any of the bread itself, dropping it as soon as they had cleared off the butter and sugar. If one bird hap pened to have finished his portion before the others, he unhesitatingly helped himself to a share of some neighbour’s goods, which was always yielded without the slightest demur. They arc very fond of raw flesh, and I have soon them hovering in front of a sheep’s pluck hung on .a tree, precisely as a humming-bird hovers in front of a flower, eating fragments which-they tore off, giving preference to the lungs. When anxious to get into the house, they take post on the window-sills and beat at -the window with their beaks until admitted. They are very mischievous, however, invariably cutting off the buttons of any article of clothing whicu may be left wilhiti Iheir reach.”

A Tui’f? Comic Interjection. 1 Precedilift' articles -have mentioned j 11 1 (> Ini’s cleverness in mimicry- -net-1 lira! si;i 11 which once impressed its‘lf j memorably on Sir Walter Puller. “Tliej Maoris fully appreciate the mocl.ing | powers of this bird,” he stated, ‘ ‘ and often devote much time 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 under my own notice at .llangitihei. some years ago. I had been addressing a large meeting of natives in the Whare-rnn-anga, or council-house, on a matter of considerable political importance, and had been urging my views wil.i all the earnestness that the subject demanded. .Immediately on the conclusion of my speech, and before the old chief, to whom my arguments were

chiolly addressed, had time to reply, a tui, whoso netted cage hung to a rafter overhead, responded, in a clear, emphatic way, ‘Tito!’ (false). The circumstances naturally caused much merriment among my audience, and quite upset the gravity of the venerable old chief Nepia Taratoa. ‘Friend,’ he said, laughing, ‘your arguments are very good; but my mokai is a very wise bird, and he is not yet convinced! ’ ’ ’

“First Things First.” “First things first!” remarked a friend to me the other day. “Why worry about native birds at a time like this when so many people arc in need of help?’’ He meant well —but his remark lacked common-sense and vision. There is always a danger, in a big crisis, that some matters of immeasurable importance to the national welfare will be neglected. For exaple during the Great War, when manpower was called up to the. utmost for military service, much farminp land lapsed into wilderness. A 'weakening of the policy of preservation of forest and bird-life now would only make bad worse. The farmer, has been termed “the backbone of the country.” No doubt, today, he would bo inclined to put an adjective, aching, in front of the back-bone. Whether the farmer regards himself as at the front or back of the country at present, it is certain .that the forest is the back-bone of farming, because forest, regulating the How of water, is the necessary insurance policy against destruction of farming country. Rome time ago a big advertising campaign for paint was based on (be slogan: “Rave the surface, and you save Ihe lot.” Long-sighted men and women in New Zealand say truly: “Rave the forest, and you save the lot —but to save the forest, you must save the birds.”