NATURE—AND MAN

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXVI, 19 August 1933, Page 10

NATURE— AND MAN

WONDERFUL WAYS OF BIRDS VARIOUS STUDIES (Edited by Leo Fanning) In several previous articles I have mentioned how individuals in the same species of bird have differences ot' temperament and intelligence. A few days ago I had another interesting demonstration of that truth on the Wellington waterfront. At the lonely end of a wharf seven red-hilled gulls were clustered peacefully on a stringer. Evidently they had dined well, and were having a pleasant rest. As I approached slowly and silently they took no heed of me until I was about ten feet away. Then as I moved on, quietly, inch by inch, one began to he fidgety, and soon it flew away. On I went gradually, and another decided to take wing. At a distance of five feet only one remained, and then I halted for observation. Tiie hist of the seven looked at me fearlessly. He gibed at his more timid kin as they fluttered up and down a few feet overhead. I imagined that he was saying: “What stupid gulls you are! If you had any sense you could ho resting here, just as I am; but because you are foolish, you have to he working your wings.” That bird was in his new courting raiment of snowy white neck and breast plumage and mantle of dove-grey, but the most impressive colour note was in the vivid rich redness of the bill and legs. They were like living rubies. SEA-BIRDS’ VOICES Usually, a sea-bird has a harsh cry, which gives the hearer an eerie feeling in desolate places on a rugged coast, far from human haunts. Is there a sea-bird that lias a. song? In Ills “Forsaken Garden,” Swinburne lias these, lines: “Over the meadows that blossom and wither Rings hut the note of a sea-bird’s song; Only the sun and the rain come hither All year long.”

Now. what did Swinburne mean by “song”? Did lie know of some strange sea-bird (hat sang like a fabled siren, or was lie merely using poetic licence? Still, 1 like to think that somewhere —perhaps by a. palm-fringed coral isle of the South Seas—a. sea-bird greets the rising sun with song.

VENTURESOME YOUNG BELL BIRDS

The well-fledged young of some birds (end to cling to the nest until they are enticed out by their parents, and the offspring of other species may have the opposite inclination —an eagerness to he up and doing before they are able to fend for themselves. In this venturesome class come the children of the bell-bird. “When t lie young are feathered. but before they can fiv,” remarks Mr Edgar Stead, “they have a habit of leaving the nest and perching oil nearby twigs, being fed there by their parents. 'This sometimes leads to | accidents, the young birds falling to j the ground. Once, when we camped I in the bush, I tried to get photographs i of a boll-bird feeding its young in a ! clump of lawyer at the top of a titoki above our tent. The hooked thorns of the vine gave me a lot of trouble, but finally I got the camera lip, and in position. One of the three young, which were just feathered, wanted to sit on a branch about a foot away from the nest. I replaced it, and waited, but the wanderlust was in liis blood and be went Columbus-ing off right to the end of the branch. I tried to reach him, but be fell to tlie ground, and while I was getting him up again on a string from my friend, who was below, the parents fed the two in the nest. ‘Columbus’ was replaced in the nest, but the spirit of adventure was strong in him, and off he went, out of focus, to be immediately fed. I waited for a long time, and when the old birds came hack next time, they went to the ground and fed a fourth member of this enterprising family, of whose existence we had not known until then. The light had now gone, so I packed up and left them until the morrow, putting the bird from the ground into the tent for safety. The next day, another was oil the ground, so I collected the two from the nest and posed them on a convenient perch, afterwards putting them in a thick bush, where they stayed all day. Next morning they wore scattered about on the ground, and while we wore having breakfast we saw a stoat hunting for one of them. We chased it, but it escaped, and when we left our camping ground that day it was with deep misgivings for the fate of the hell-bird family.” A SHREWD JAPANESE MOVE A well-known lover of native birds, Dr. J. (r. Myers, who is a member of .the International Committee for Bird Preservation, wrote a very interesting article some time ago on tho subject of

“Native Birds as National Monuments.” He mentions that the Japanese Government has a strong protective policy for the birds. “There are three main reasons for protecting birds—the economic. the scientific and aesthetic,” remarks Dr. Myers. “Japan by a stroke of administrative genius welds the scientific and aesthetic aspects together and, under the law for Preserving (Scenery, Historic and Natural Monuments, protects all her' more distinctive species as ‘natural monuments.’ In preserving the breeding-places and | special haunts of these birds, an appeal is made also to the popular veneration for the things of old Japan. These areas are protected as ‘Breeding places of birds famous in Japan,’ as ‘Places famous for these birds flocking there,’ as ‘Valuable breeding places of famous birds’ and so on. It is interesting that Jong before these sentiments were expressed in modern legislation they were in many eases felt very strongly among the people. Thus whoopor swans visit one locality only in large flocks and for this reason: ‘The inhabitants of this district have, since the olden times, regarded swans as messengers of God, protected them very carefully and excluded any hunters from elsewhere. In this manner they are adequately protected and preserved in this district.’ (Uehida). In the same way the ptarmigan of the Japanese Alps has long been preserved on traditional religious grounds by (he peasantry, but is now in danger from mountaineers, i.e., tourists, who have gained some of that western enlightenment which prompts us to scatter waste-paper and empty bottles in scenic reserves and heather in Tongariro National Park.” Could New Zealand have better monuments than the beautiful native j

forests and their inhabitants—the enchanting birds. THE SPEECH OF BIRDS The “Nature Magazine” reported this incident, observed by an American naturalist: — “A flock of geese were flying southward over Wisconsin wilds, in regular formation. Suddenly the rear guard pushed to the front, and flew a second or so beside the leader, who almost immediately turned the flock at right angles toward the west. The guard returned to his place, and the flock passed from view. There was a lake westward —straight on there was only dry land. Had the goose seen the water, and advised the captain of the flock?” The answer to that question is “Why not?” The ordinary domestic rooster has quite a vocabulary. He has one call which means: “Here is food! Hurry up and get some before it is all gone.” He‘has a cry which means: “Danger is near. Look out.” He has a crow which may express his joy of living or a challenge to a rival—and he has various other notes which have definite meanings. To the extent that he makes sounds which are clearly understood he has a limited gift of speech. What is the difference in principle between that kind of sound-making and the spoken words of mankind? If one. within its own range, is as successful as the other, which is the better for its own purposes?