THE NATURALIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 3673, 5 August 1924, Page 68

THE NATURALIST.

NATURAL, HISTORY FROM A RAILWAY TRAIN.

By

the Hon. G. M. Thomson, M.L.C.

I _ -'f In reading the autobiography of Henry Ford—a book descriptive of a remarkably interesting and valuable personality—one of the impressions left on the mind is that to get about quickly is thought to be one of the most important considerations in life. Conversely the man who moves leisurely is looked on as slow and behind the times. To hear some men —- and especially young men —talk, one would tnink that “hustle” was the secret of success in business. I think such ideas are quite incorrect. The average" man to-day does not work nearly so hard as his father did, nor does he work so efficiently. That is not my own opinion I merely, it is the expressed opinion of ; nearly every employer. Granted that | hfty years ago the average man’s working J hours were too long, and that lie did not have sufficient time for rest, recreation, and amusement, yet it is a correct affirmation that the average employed man to-day docs not do as much work per working hour as his father did. I am not of those who do not value the saving of time in covering distance, especially what may be termed “unprofitable distance.” But “festina lento” is a good old proverb. It is well to hurry slowly, and the man who does the most thorough and effective work is not the one who rushes at it pell-mell, but the one who goes at it quietly, determinedly, and persistently. The habit of rushing about has manifest disadvantages to set against its advantages. The man on a bike or a motor-cycle, or the driver of a motor car, sees little of the country he passes through. He is too intent on the bumps and holes in the road, for his safety and that of the machine depends on his ability to avoid them. To the observant man it is often the little things on the roadside which are the most important, and the j present style of rushing about the country j prevents liim—even when he is only being carried along in a car or a railway train —from seeing those little things. That is one reason why I am glad to notice that Field Clubs and Tramping Clubs are growing in favour in our towns. They are a protest against rush and hustle. Apart from their value as health giving, they give people time to look about them at leisure, and to relax from the restless bustle which characterises much modern business. They introduce new thoughts and ideas by the mere contemplation of ■the numerous objects which to an observant man make any walk interesting. Thoughts such as. these often pass through my mind as I travel by rail throughout New Zealand. Not that our railway trains are phenomenally rapid—far from it. One has often time, as the train labours up tbe frequent inclines, to note the vegetation by the side of tbe line, and even to give a brief look at the zoology. If he is a geologist, then the numerous cuttings and the contour of the country furnish an endless source of interest and of speculation. But as a general rule the railway traveller, even if he be very observant, knows little of the immediate neighbourhood of the line. He may mark the fields and their crops, the stock which feed in them, the plantations. the hills, valleys, swamps, seabeaches, and the distant scenery. But he cannot see much of the details, for lie has no time given to observe them. Yet running up recently from Dunedin to Christchurch, I noted a few of the objects which were passed, and was somewhat surprised to find that I had noted so much. The vegetation is perhaps the first thing to be observed, for it is comparatively unchanging, except in so far | as the seasons change. The first and ! most distinctive character is the prej valence of introduced plants. In a few ; sections of the line, where remains of ! native bush, swamp, or tussock occur, j indigenous plants are to he seen. But | plantations, hedge rows and fields, and the vegetation bordering the railway line are nearly all composed of exotic plants, cosmopolitan one might almost term them, because they have been introduced into | all parts of the temperate regions of the. earth where our race lias settled. The remains of native vegetation .are almost confined to the Otago portion of the lino, from Dunedin to about Waikouaiti, and a few points further north: but after Oamaru hardly any native plants are to be seen except tussock and rushes. Perhaps the tiling that most impresses itself on the mind is that the railway line, especially on the Seacliff section, is one of the best seeding-grounds for noxious weeds to be seen. There is more of interest in the animal i life on the line. Apart from the domestic | animals, the horses and cattle in the \ fields, and the large flocks of sheep on the hillside, eating down the turnips in winter, or crowded under the trees on hot summer days—only rabbits and hares are ’to be seen. But rabbits are not very common on the east coast, partly because S settlement is closer than elsewhere, and I partly, perhaps, because the climate is moistor than Central Otago, where they thrive so persistently. It is not at all uncommon to see hares on the Canterbury ! Plains. Their straight, long-loping movement is quite different from the quick, 1 jerky run of the rabbit, and the latter is I further distinguished by showing the ! white underside of its tail as it runs. Birds are much more abundant. The small birds, such as sparrows, greenfinches, goldfinches, and sky larks dart off in such a scared manner that it is almost impossible to recognise them, unless one is familiar with their flight. The native

larks or pipits are, however, easily distinguished, not only by the quick spring with which they dash away when alarmed, but by the touch of white in their plumage. Starlings are always abundant, and are easily recognised, as are blackbirds and thrushes; hut these latter birds are not much in evidence except in partially scrub-clad or thickly planted districts. The common harrier hawk is abundant throughout the South Island, but it is singular how opinion is divided as to its merits or demerits. In some parts, especially of the North Island, it is anathematised and a price placed on its head, as the destroyer of imported game. In others it is protected as the enemy of tlie rabbit. Its slow and leisurely flight mark it as a bird not too active on the wing. In former days it must have fed chiefly ou the birds of the open country, such as native quail and grass-birds, together with lizards and insects. But the introduction of rabbits provided a new and more abundant food supply when the native ground-birds were exterminated. Hawks no doubt eat the young of many small birds, but they are quite unable to check, their too rapid increase, just as they cannot cope with the rabbit pest. Nearly always, when in the neighbourhood of Rangitata, one sees an old Australia magpie, oi* perhaps a pair. This bird is not a magpie at all. Its correct name is Pied Grallina, but its very conspicuous black and white colouring recalls the home bird, and it has some of its tricky ways. Its notes are very beautiful. It is rather singular that this species has not spread more widely and abundantly. It was formerly established near Dunedin, and even began to breed on trees in the Leith Valley, but probably its colours rendered it too easy and tempting a mark to the amateur sportsman, especially of the schoolboy type. It is fairly common in North Canterbury, and at one time seemed to be spreading south again, having been reported not long ago from the Horse Ranges, but apparently it has again fallen a prey to the man or boy with a gun. One more interesting introduced bird is to bo seen on this journey. Two or three miles out of Christchurch, rooks arc nearly always seen in the fields, their rookeries being in Riccarton Bush, or in plantations near at hand. They are unmistakable birds with their black coats, and heavy, slow flight. If near at hand the white skin at the base of the bill is easily made out. This is the only place in the South Island where rooks are to be found, and they do not seem to increase very much. The swamps and lagoons along the coast, especially about Waikouaiti and Timaru, are the haunts of numerous aquatic birds. There is a bird sanctuary at Waikouaiti, where usually numbers of wild ducks and swans are seen swimming about; but I am told by some residents in the neighbourhood that those who ought to protect them do not do so, and a good deal of pot-hunting goes on. It is a pity that all country residents do not take a greater pride in the preservation of the native bird fauna than is the ease. If the sanctuaries arc not protected by the people who live near them, then the protection should be withdrawn, for then they are only traps for birds. Occasionally Paradise ducks breed in the sanctuaries, and I have seen clutches of young birds running with poultry, their -eggs having been brought in from the swamp nests, and set under a hen or a tame duck. - The swamps about Goodwood, to tlie north of Waikouaiti, are very interesting. A good deal of the land is very little above sea level, and the swamps are intersected by tidal channels. The mudflats in places are covered by beds of Salicornia, of an uniform dull sage-green colour. Where the water is fresher, there are numerous small pools, whose surface, is purple-red with its coating of Azolla, and with fringes of the brightest green grass. Others have their surface pale green from its dense mantle of duckweed. In these swamps I have occasionally seen either godwits or sandpipers, though usually at too great a distance to distinguish them properly. Black swans are very common in the lagoons, the greatest assemblage being a little to the north of Timaru, where whole fleets of these stately birds are to be seen sailing about. No introduced bird has more rapidly established itself in New Zealand. Gulls are common along the coast, both tlie large black-backed species, and the pretty little red-legged herring gull. The flocks never mix, hut keep severely apart. Their most abundant rendezvous is at Sawyer’s Bay, near Dunedin, where the small stream which passes the railway station brings down abundance of food material from the Glendermid tanneries. Lastly, immense flocks of white terns are seen ou the coast, notably north of Timaru,: wheeling in tlieir sudden rising and flight, they form a beautiful sight. Many people bury themselves in a book or a paper when train travelling: others forget time and tlie weariness of travel in the Land of Nod. To those who do neither, a hint of the things to be seen from the windows of a railway carriage may furnish some passing interest.