NATURE-AND MAN

Northern Advocate, 17 April 1933, Page 8

NATURE-AND MAN

PLEASURE OF STUDY. WAYS OF VARIOUS ISIRDS (Edited by Leo Fanning.)

Ordinarily the black-backed seagull does not look an amiable subject for a pet. It is certainly handsome, but lias a cold, hard, greedy eye, and it worries some of the smaller seabirds in their nesting colonies. Yet, even the “black-back’' has its softer side, and can become fond of friendly folk.

.Sir Walter Boiler mentions in his “Birds of New Zealand” that he obtained a young seagull from a nest, and kept it in his garden for more than five years. “The most remarkable phase of character it developed,’’ he wrote, “was the romantic attachment it formed for a large black-and-white Newfoundland dog. For more than two years it had enjoyed the constant companionship of a tame skua and seemed then to lie perfectly happy; but on the death of the latter, the seagull moped for a time and then fixed her affections on “Crusoe” in a very unmistakable way. Whenever the dog appeared on the lawn the bird would run to meet him with loud clamour, and dance round him with every expression of delight; when the dog had coiled himself to rest, the bird would peck him all over in a loving way with its bill, and finally nestle down beside him or even squat upon his soft coat, and if disturbed' would utter a long squealing note as if in mild protest.”

Sir "Walter has described the common harsh cry of of the black-backed gull as a “laugh,” but it is not a melodious one. “I do not think,” he said, “it has over been recorded yet that the seagull has a natural love for music, I have seen a tame one in a settlor's garden run up to the house as soon as the children commenced their morning practice on the piano, enter at the open door and stand in the passage in a position of eager attention, I was assured that this was an invariable habit, showing incontestably that the bird was not insensible to music. On one occasion, long after dark, attracted by the strains of a lively waltz, it posted itself under the bay-window and be-

gan to scream as if in eager accompaniment."

It is recorded by Sir Walter that a publican at Whakatane obtained a hen gull from White Island, a distance of ,°.r» miles. “It became perfectly tome,” the story runs, “answering to the name of ‘ Rinemoa/ and coming into, the house at mealtimes to be fed. When about two years old it suddenly disappeared, and after a lapse of six months it returned with two young ones, which have since become quite domesticated."

A Loving Pair of Black Shags. The black shag, much persecuted by gunmen who accuse it of trout-poach-ing, is a likeable bird at home. ‘ Mr Edgar Stead, author of ‘‘The Life Histories of New Zealand Birds, 5 ’ gives a pleasant picture of a mated pair of these cormorants. “During building and hatching operations, ’ ’ he says, “the birds exhibit great affec-

tion for their mates. When a hen is sitting on the nest and her mate arrives, she greets him with demonstrative devotion, rubbing her cheek against his, and stroking his head and neck with her bill; preening his.feathers and generally making a fuss of him; while he is obviously just as pleased as she is over their reunion, returning her .every caress. I well remember watching a pair which was building in a ribbonwood tree. The hen sat. on the half-finished nest adjusting the material —pulling out a stick here, and thrusting it more deeply there, or tidying and sorting some of the smaller twigs, apparently for the sake of something to do. Presently her mate returned with a piece of stick in his bill, and settled heavily with a great flapping of wings,

and a loud, ‘ kan-kan-kau, ’ on the side of the nest, almost upsetting the whole thing. Now it was a very ordinary stick that he had brought, yet she received it with fervent admiration, running her bill along it and nipping it as if to tost its soundness; then stroking the back of his head and neck as he bent down and laid it at her feet. Evidently touched by her display, he stood beside her awhile, intertwining his sinuous neck with hers, before flying off for more material, while she built the last piece into their home.”

Courtship of White-fronted Tern. Many kinds of birds have evolved remarkable habits of courtship, Mr Stead refers to a breeding haunt of white-fronted terns at the month of the Rakaia River, Canterbury. In the spring some thousands assemble there and a spectacular courtship . begins. Here is the chronicle of Mr Stead: —

“Uttering his monotonous call of ‘crek’ at intervals of a few seconds, a cock bird will come in from the sea carrying a small fish in his bill; circle over the sitting birds, and perhaps settle with them, holding his head high, and strutting and turning about as if to say, ‘Look what a good food provider I am.’ Almost immediately one or more hens will approach him with their nocks stretched out, as if asking to be fed, when the cock will rise in the air, followed by his admirers, and fly about until only one is following him, when he may settle and give her the fish; but not

always, for I have often seen a bird, perhaps disapproving of the looks of his pursuers, or disappointed, with their powers of .flight, settle on the gound again, and eat the - lisli himself. Granted that he feeds the hen, the initial feeding over, the pair seem to regard themselves as mated, and thereafter indulge in what one might term ‘ecstasy flights,’ the most striking being one in which, the cock bird leading, they achieve a certain height, when he .will spread his wings at an angle above his back and sail downwards in short, sweeping curves, first to the right and then to the left, the hen, close on his tail, and with her wings similarly spread, following his every movement. The effect is very beautiful, and when the birds alight again they run about together, and around one another, heads raised, and ‘crek-ing’ loudly, as if well pleased with themselves.” -

A Secret Aviary. Mr Stead’s keen study of native birds began when ho was at a board-ing-school. “I got a young morepork,” ho wrote, “and kept it in my desk. I fed it on meat, or small birds, chiefly greenfinches, which I killed with my catapult: Partly on account of the ■ unfortunate state into which it? food supplies sometimes got, jnv • classunates christened -it ‘Flyblown Shylock.’ As the bird grew I hired the next boy’s desk for my books for half a crown, and ho, having a head for high finance, hired half the next boy’s desk for 1/3 for lus. When I opened the lid of my desk, Shylock would snap his beak loudly. This is done when the birds nro either angry or excited, for Shylock, long after he had lost all fear of men,, would still sometimes snap his beak, when I brought him food. I took him home in the Christmas holidays, and turned him loose in the garden, whore he took up his abode

in : fi largo ivy-covered cabbage tree, coming'out every evening just before dusk, when I called him for food. He v/as still there when I came home for my next holidays in May, but had lost'much of his tameness, and ho left the garden before September.”

Butchery Of Godwits. How much longer will pitiless gunmen offer weak excuses for their slaughter of migrating godwits? When will these brave fliers over the wide ocean be granted complete prottection? Here is a pathetic passage from Euller’s book:—

“It is a common thing to see birds with a single leg, or with a broken or truncated bill. Captain Mair saw one with both legs shot away. It kept with the (lock, supporting itself on the clumps of tarsi when walking, and crouching on the ground when at rest, but mainly using its wings for purposes of locomotion. The maimed and injured birds, of winch each flock contains many towards the closb of the shooting season, habitually keep apart from the main flock, confining themselves to the high beach, and are known to sportsmen as the ‘sick brigade.’” Think of the heartless mannings of birds by so-called sportsmen since those words were written half a century ago! Mrs P. Moncrieff, of Nelson, a well known worker for native birds, is urging that. Farewell Spit should be declared a sanctuary. That loneily headland' is one of the places from which godwits begin their long flight to Siberia —a fact known, alas, by numbers of callous pot-hunters. It is a, good ' recommendation which deserves the strong support of the general public.