NATIVE AND IMPORTED GAME IN WELLINGTON.
By John Uiuo, M.L.C
Tho last -hooting <-eason wa- a closed 1 soason for pigeon, kaka. and pukeko, and! therefore wo may conclude that nono were 6hot ->o long as we are not asked to believe it. There were, then, loft only swan, duck, and teal. and. as I have dealt with the two latter elsewhere, it would appear that there is nothing to be said in regard to native game. But this is not so. Closed seasons, like other seasons, pass away, giving place to the seasons that follow, and thon the thoughts of tho " shooter " turn to the days when, with a crick in his neck through much tree-top gazing, he sought tho stolid wild pigeon or the restless kaka on mountains clothed with
primeval forest, and he long* to do so again. Therefore there is still something to be said on the subject.
Of the pukeko I have not much to say in addition to the remark that its dark blue plumage and red legs and red beak make a pretty contrast. It is a swamp fowl of large size, and it gives a fairly easy 6hot, for it takes a long time to get "under weigh." It flaps its wings a good deal as_ it rises, and even when fairly started it is 6low on the wing. But though primarily a swamp fowl, the pukeko, like the domestic turkey, wanders a long way from home, and it is often to be met with at some distance from any fiwamp. Where you see one pukeko you usually find a number of others, for when the pukeko travels he takes with him his whole family, and also, like Sir J^P" Porter, his sisters and his cousins and his aunts.
With the progress of settlement the pigeon and the kaka have been driven farther and farther towards the great mountain ranges, and it is seldom now—except when the tawa berries are ripe or there is much snow on the range* —that they visit the foothills or the more level country There is really little excitement in shooting the pigeon or the kaka, for half-a-dozen pigeons will sit on the limb of a tree and remain undisturbed by the report of the gun until they all exchange their resting-place for the sportsman's bag, when it may be said appropriately of them : Together in life, in death they were not divided. The kaka is also easily shot while climbing the smaller branches of a tree, and whon wounded it makes such a noise that all the kakas within a mile fly to the spot and approach the wounded bird so closely that they may almost be knocked down with a stick. Yet I have noticed al«o that when apparently exhausted or mortally wounded the kaka. g-ives a peculiar call, at tht sound of which the others take instant flight and return no more
There are two localities I know of where good pigeon and kaka shooting may still be obtained, but both places require a " camp out." One of these is the western side of the Tararua Ranges, and the other is situated in the district of Taranaki. Of the Tararua Ranges I cannot speak from personal knowledge, but I know that the Maoris near Levin make occasional visits to them and seldom return without a number of pigeons. With respect to Taranaki I can speak with more assurance.
It was in the course of a visit to the oamps of some co-operative workers in Taranaki, in the month of March, 1906, that I found myself on the Mataimoana road — one of the roads then in course of construction by the Government, with a view td open up the back-bloca of the district — asfl there, at a distance ofabout 20 miles fron> Waverley, I stayed from Saturday till Monday. Pigeons and kakas were to be seen in large numbers, and wild pigs were numerous in the vicinity. Twenty years had flown since last I had seen a wild pigeon or a kaka, and on ! the delight I felt as I watched these birds fly from tree to tree ancl from limb to limb in the enjoyment of a primitive and unrestricted freedom, as they sought to plunder the topmost bough of its store of berries. Then, as my glance travelled over miles and miles of deep valleys, undulating hills, and lofty mountains clothed with dense and almost impenetrable bush of every shade of verdure, and I inhaled the fragrance of the forest and absorbed the eoul of its abiding genius, memory awoke, my miml reverted to the days of my boyhood when first, with gun in hand, I roaxned the bush-clad hills of Karori — alas ! no longer bush-clad— and I felt I lived again. And each day as I waked, aroused by the beautiful, deep-toned, bell-like call of a kokako, the fascination of it all still grew upon me, till I carried away a sense of joy and charm I still recall.
I then resolved that if ever I have a friend from over-sea whom I wish to honour, and to whom I desire to give a pleasure of a kind rarely attainable, and one that would impress upon a visitor a characteristic feature of the beauty of our country, I should invite him to visit with me the Mataimoana, and to there enjoy the sport so abundantly provided. The cock pheasant is the king of game birds so far as New Zealand is concerned, and he is an imported bird. He possesses both size and beauty. There are those who ever think that a game bird looks best as it lies on its back on a well-dreesed dinner table, surrounded by what Mr Weller would call " the usual trimmings"; but give me the cock pheasant as he rises, when " flushed." with harsh croaks and outspread wings. and enters on his straight and steady flight, his gorgeous plumage shining in the bright rays of a noonday sun. For then he is beautiful. And never under any circumstances do I shoot a cock pheasant without feeling- that the pleasure of success is largely alloyed with a substantial measure of regret. It was stated at the annual meeting of the Wellington Acclimatisation Society that pheasants were holding their own in the Rangatikei district, and I was pleased to hear it; but my own knowledge goes t)O Show that in other places, where pheasants were once comparatively numerous, they are now practically extinct. The •ociety, however, has made vigorous efforts
in recent years to restore the status quo in the Wellington district, and a large number of pheasants bred at the game farm at Paraparaumu has been released in the country about the Wellington and Manawatu railway. It was, I think, a mistake to release young hand-fed birds shortly before the opening of the shooting season, and one that, but for the efforts of a few enthusiasts — assisted by some 30 of the largest landowners, who voluntarily declared a close season for pheasants on their properties — might have proved disastrous.
But I do not regard the outlook of the pheasant as a bright one. It has too many enemies. First, there is man, whose opportunities for destruction continually grow with the increase of land under cultivation and the progress of farm development, for the pheasant is irresi6tibh attracted by the food available or the presence of the barn-door fowl, and. should it escape the gun of the sportsman, it often, when feeding, falls an easy prey to that of the pot-hunter. And then, even when its environment may be regarded aa more favourable one. there are itnatural enemies. Of the«o the hawk is without doubt one of the most destructive, and yet we can say a word in its favour : The hawk was in "the country before the advent of the pheasant, and consequently it may be said to possess certain preemptive rights that it is entitled to enjoy. But what is there to be said in favour of the other enemies of the pheasant, such as stoats, weasels, and other pests that have been introduced into the country ? Nothing ! not even that thoy have succeeded appreciably in fulfilling the purpose for which they were introduced — namely, the destruction of rabbits. rbe<=e cursed things — which, by the way. are protected by law — have 6pread far and wide North, couth, east, and west they carry on their depredations, and when
they make their appearance in localitieo hitherto frequented b\ game of any kind, tho ga'ne -con disappears.
Apropos of the predatory instincts of those creatures and the scarcity of game, let mo relate a com creation I once heard in a railway carriage when on a short journey: — Speaking of the scarcity of game in certain placet-, one of the passengers remarked that there was a rumour that a pheasant had been seen near hi« home, which was in the neighbourhood of Kereru, and that there was a local sportsman who had had the temerity to say that he had seen the pheasant, though no one believed him, for the reason that all sportemen were liars, more or less. Presently the talk passed in logical sequence to the cause of the scarcity of pheasants in the Wellington district, and this led another passenger to enlarge on the habits of weasels. lie said that he had reason to believe that, like the common rat, weasels sometimes migrated in large numbers ; in fact, a friend of his had 6een. near Waikanae, a quarter of an acre of weasels on the move, and that they were travelling northwards, marching in battalions like soldiers. But here the discussion came to an end. for a quiet man in a corner seat remarked : " I suppose they were going to Kereru to look for that pheasant."
When the pheasant rices within a reasonable distance and in fairly clear ground, it is a. comparatively easy shot; but in rough places, where the shooting is necessarily of the snapshot order, it ie a. vexatious ono. Shooting at the tail of a disappearing bird is always unsatisfactory, for unless the bird be " winged " it will carry away enough 6hot to cause it a. slow and painful death. There is little guile about the pheasant. When pursued in rough country it will sometimes run for a. tang- distance before it will rise, and to see it run over favourable ground when wounded reminds one of a "sprinter" who is trying to oover the hundred yards
lin "even time." At other times it will 1 crouch till it is almost caught by the dog. ! But when shot at a few times the pheasant j rises quickly, eoars to a great height, dwells for a moment as it steadies iteelf ■ for its onward flight, and then flies swiftly
away. Californian quail are plentiful in some parts of the West Coast of the North Island, and they give good sport when found among crops or in small 6crub; but when near bush where there is thick undergrowth it is difficult to get a shot at them. When first disturbed, quail run together and form a group before they fly, and this is the pot-hunter's opportunity. In rising these birds make a loud whirring noise with their wing6 — a noise that, in the case of a single bird, seems to be out of all proportion to the size of the bird— and then they fly straight for some convenient cover, where they conceal themselves mo«t effectively. But, when suddenly alarmed, they instantly hide, and then it ie remarkable how small an amount of cover will serve to conceal a quail. I have sometimes seen a quail rise from my very foot on an apparently clear piece of ground, and, when I ha\c examined its hiding-place. I have found i it to be a small depression in the ground made by the impress of a horse's hoof. It i 6 when hiding thus that quail gne the best sport, for on being hunted by the dog they rise singly and fly in all directions. I Most birds when wounded exhibit a most | persistent objection to being killed — even i though tho object be to end their sufferI ing— and they show a wonderful ingenuity iin their attempts to escape capture. In J this respect the Californian quail excels, | for it is beyond compare the cutest, | "cussedest" bird of all. Where there is i plenty of cover it is almost impossible. i without the aid of a good clog, to secure
a wounded quail, and it is extremely aimiMiig to witness the efforts that "a shooter" will make to capture one. But I regard the assistance of a dog that is able to retrieve a^ al»-olutel\ essential at all times, for I am -uic that it is onl\ then that a sportsman has a true conception of the amount of wounded game for which he is reeponoible. 1 lememh-r
on ono occasion m\ dog picking up two i that will c wounded hare-- while -duelling for a when the* pheasant a companion of mine had shot. I <k i and on another occasion pi eventing me speak a with a fine cock pheasant that righti the; belonged to «omeone < i-e. Holding a- coloi I do that it is the duty of e\eiyone t<> Pro'
l>re\ent as much as possible the infliction of unnecessary pain, I think that the person who goes out shooting without a dog should l>e prosecuted for cruelty to animals. In any case, he i--often a man who shoots a pheasant while it is feeding, or one who spread-- oatmeal 'on a log and then takes up a position
c the quail
phould ;he nin. 'ley ater am an tmg, ound r tus- ^ how'larao- . uld not Oi.e of extraordivvhich the
g >■ n New Zeaid.ni 1 wlu-n compared with that of the British stock from which it came; and the other is its peculiar habit of returning when followed up by a dog, to the spot it started from, and there to meet its fate — a peculiarity that causes us to reflect that, similarly, the life of a man oft moves for a time on one straight, unbroken course of love and fortune, only to return from whence it started and 6ink into oblivion.
Speaking generally, I am of opinion that while game is not abundant, there is still sufficient to be found in many parts of tho Wellington district — the onlj district of which I have had much experience — to give a good day's sport. If any sportsman looks upon a large ''bag" as tho main attraction, I fear he will be. disappointed : but if, on the other hand, he is able fo enjoy some " rough-and-ready" shooting — that is, to walk a good distance and take what comes before him, whether it be pheasant, quail, or hare, and, to put it shortly, to follow the ■s]x>rfc for the love of it —lie will have little reason to complain.
It may be laid down, I believe^ as a general rule that tho expectations of sportsmen in\ariabl\ exceed their
perio rin a n ces ; and then- is a reason for
Sportsmen as a rule
are sociable people, and therefoie like company. Now, where there ; ib company there is noise, and noise is fatal to good sport. I have joined many a shooting party, but never one that obi tamed much game. In recent years I | have worked a good deal alone, but I prefer a companion. Two persons can always work a likely spot better than one I person, and they soon learn to work to-
gether in a harmonious and practical manner — without talk or other disturbance — and with good results. During the greater part of a recent shooting season I had as a companion a corpulent and plethoric Maori whose only objectionable feature was that he appeared to breathe with difficulty, and in the process made a noise like that which is heard from a brokenwinded horse. This weakness of my Maori friend was certainly rather annoying at times, and led to me asking him : " W r hy do you puff and blow like that?" "Because I got too much wind," he replied. Although there is not in connection with the shooting of imported game the same strong sense of excitement that is inseparably identified with duck-shooting, it has its own attractions, and not the least of these is the satisfaction that is felt by the sportsman when he has made an excellent shot. Yet, above all. there is the element of success to bo considered, which, whether it be 6ucoes6 in sport or success in life, covers everything with an enduring sense of charm and satisfaction, and renders attractive anything that promises success. But leaving out of consideration altogether the attractiveness of the sport and its success or otherwise, let me point out, in concluding, that the benefits to be derived from it as a physical exercise should not be overlooked.
Competent authorities tell us that physical exercise, to be beneficial, should not partake of the nature of a task or of a duty to be performed, but should be involuntary; and it is in this respect that the exercise to be obtained when in pursuit of game meets all requirements. Too many of our young men \ ste their time and energy in cultivate in an artificial manner" large solid mus. =s that are of no U6e when they have dc /eloped them. They would, I am confident, become better athletes and better men if their exercise were of a natural kind and taken in Nature's own garden. GAME DISTRICTS IN WELLINGTON.
The following is a list of different localities in the Wellington Acclimatisation Society's district where native and imported game may be found by the sportsman: —
Karori (four miles from Wellington). can be reached by train or 'bus, or by motor car or cycle, the roads ac a rule being good. Rabbits, quail, hares. Crofton (near Wellington) to Plimmerton, 18 miles distant by rail— Hares, quail, ducks. , . ... Pukerua to Longburn (on the Wellinfr-ton-Manawatu railway; a stretch of 62 miles)— Quail, pheasants, ducks, goats, hares, pigeons, kakas, pics. Foxton (the terminus of the Foxton-Fal-merston branch railway ; 20 miles from Palmerston North, and 104 miles from Wellington, in Manawatu County) — Ducks. Sambur deer, swans, bittern. There js good accommodation. Whitebait netting is becoming an important industry. Palmerston North (88 miles N.W. from Wellington) — Ducks, pheasants, quail, hares, pigeons bittern, pigs, goats, kakas. Marton (called after the birthplace of Captain Cook, in Yorkshire, England, is 118 miles by rail from Wellington and 33 from Wanganui ; one of the early settlements on the West Coast, and a flourishing agricultural and pastoral district; good accommodation ; excellent roads) — Red-leg partridges, pheasants, quail, and hares. Woodville (105 miles from Wellington' to Masterton (67 miles from Wellington by the Main Trunk line)— Pheasants, quail, pigeons, ducks, kakas, , pigs, goats, rabbits. red deer. . . Greytown. Gladstone. . & Martinborough (in the Wairarapa district) — Red deer, rabbits, pigeons, ducks, pigs, goats, swans, Featherston (45 miles north of Wellington, by rail ; an excellent centre for sportsmen ; good accommodation ; roads from Featherston to Martinborough and the East Coast, and also down the Wairarapa Valley to Palliser Bay)— Rabbits, quail, pigeons, kakas, pigs, and goats. Wairarapa Lake — Ducks, bittern, swans, geese. Kaitoke (27 miles from Wellington)— Rabbits, quail, pigeons, ducks, pigs, goats, kakas.
Upper Hutt, Moonshine, Mungaroa, Whiteman's Valley (near Wellington)— Rabbits, quail, ducks, pigeons, kakas, pigs, goats. Silvorstream to Lower Hutt (near Wellington) — Pheasants, quail, hares, rabbits.
Wainuiomata. Gollan's Valley, Orongorongo (near Wellington) — Pheasants, quail, pigeons, kakas, ducks, pigs, goats.
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Otago Witness, Issue 2805, 18 December 1907, Page 24 (Supplement)
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3,274NATIVE AND IMPORTED GAME IN WELLINGTON. Otago Witness, Issue 2805, 18 December 1907, Page 24 (Supplement)
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