IN TOUCH WITH NATURE

Otago Witness, Issue 3742, 1 December 1925, Page 11

IN TOUCH WITH NATURE

A RIVER OF BIRDS. By J. Drummond, F.L.S., F.Z.SL A graphic description of the mutton birds’ flight, which often is watched with surprise and wonder by people on the oast coast of Otago, is supplied by Mr C. M. Hector, Dunedin. “On the morning of October 18,” he writes, “I went with my family to a bay beyond Tomahawk Bay. arriving there at 11.30 o’clock. We at once saw a remarkable flight of birds. How long it had been going on we cannot say, but it continued without intermission till 2.30 p.m.—that is, for three hours, when it was interupted by the passage of a dark squall and strong wind. The appearance was that of a river of birds. They kept mnstlv to a line about half a mile from the beach, occasionally wavering to seaward and opening out their formation, but m'' f lv flv’nor low down on the water. I estimated that the line passed about 200 to 300 yards outside of the Seal Rock, which, bv trinngulation with a pocket sextant, I made to be about 660 yards from the bench. As far as I could see with field-glasses, they followed the indentations of the coast, towards Brighton and Taieri Mouth. Their flight was more or less direct, the general impresssion with the naked eye was that of n rapidly-moving stream of birds, all in one direction, but in following individual birds with the field-glasses, it was seen that each made an occasional backward loop on its ‘'ourso. With the aid of mv son as timekeeper, I tried to estimate the number of birds disapnearing behind the bluff to I he north of the hoy per second: all were flying north. I tried counting in threes and fives, but. had to give it up. At first I lhonght ten Dor second would te about, the average, but further examination of the ttrenin with field-glasses showed that the totnl wns nrcfbablv double or treble that number. Taking 20 per second as tho average. we get. the following Twenty multiplied by 60 by 60 by 3 —216,000 birds passing in three hours. As to their rate of flight. I found that they took on the average 7A seconds to traverse the field of mv x 6 Leitx prism binoculars. This field lust

embraces the constellation ot the Southern Cross, which curiously is just 7jdeg, .so that the birds traversed the space of one deg re 3 per second at a distance of half a mile. This works out at about 31 miles an hour. Whether this was part of a general migration, or merely a local excursion, I am unable to say, and cannot gather front iho literature at hand, but it was a remarkable illustration of the countless numbers of living things and of concerted puruosive action.” Many rerords of the arrival of tho shining cuckoo and the long-tailed cuckoo this season have teen received. They probably will be published next week. Amongst the records are interesting notes on the migrants’ methods and habits, and on bird life generally. Mrs G. Taylor, Pukekaroro, Kaiwaka, North Auckland, states that early one morning in the first week of October she heard a commotion in a tall kauri tree a few chains from her house. Inquiries showed that, a kingfisher was on the edge of its nest, about 10ft from the ground, dodging and pushing nine shining Cuckoos, which seemed to be attacking it. Tho kingfisher held a worm in it* bill, but the watcher was unable to discover if the cuckoos were trying to get the worm, as, when they noticed her, one of them fiew r down on to a tea-tree a few yards from her, and uttered a very soft note, and all the cuckoos then wont off to the hillside. The old kauri ia the home of many species of birds. As two pairs of magpies, deadly enemies of hawks, have a permanent abode in tho higher parts of that tree, and as its smooth trunk is some protection from other marauders. kingfishers, starlings, and other small birds rear their families there in comparative safety. Three years ago, Mrs Taylor began to feed birds that came to her door during the winter. This year her friends numbered about 100. The firsb sight that met her eyes each winter’s morning was birds on the fence, the clothesline. the house, and the ground. There i# a certain place on which she fed them. As soon as she went there they attended in flocks. There were magpies, starlings, fantails, sparrows, skylarks, yellow-ham< mers, tomtits, song thrushes, quail, and, regularly, redpolls. “We always look for the shining cuckoo when the blooms appear on the kowhai,” Mr J. J. O’Regan writes from Inangahua. “ but the kowhai and the clematis were quite two weeks later than usual. In February this year I saw for the first time two young shining cuckoos being fed by their foster parent, a grey warbler. They took up their abode in a fruit tree in my garden for a week, during which time the young cuckoos grew rapidly. It was amusing to see the little mite feeding each cuckoo turn about, while they, gave a plaintive chirp.” Dealing with native birds generally Mr O’Regan states:—“You will be glad to learn that native birds are not decreasing in this district Tuis and bellbirds are very plentiful. The former are giving the kowhais attention just now, October 17, Wekas show a notable increase, and I have noted two young broods this season. They always select a snug place for a nest, and are very devoted to their young. Recently I remarked on the scarcitv of the blue mountain duck: a fe v days later I saw one on the river. The shrill call of the kiwi mav be heard, and the deeper note of its mate; they seldom fail to answer each other! If you go into ihe bush and start chopping you will be almost certain to attract a wood-robin. I can endorse what your correspondents have said about the beauty of its song. An early summer morning is its favourite time Back in the bush I find little groups of vellow-heads foraging in the moss or the trees and chirping appreciatively; sometimes thev are a £?° m ‘ named by two or three parrakeets. There is a bird here that I cannot place. It flies at night in the spring and summer months, (riving, at short intervals, a sharp shriek. You may hear it three or four times, and then it is gone. I don't want to be told it is a ’ong-tailed cuckoo : it. shrieks on the wing also, but its shriek is longer drawn out and quite different from the one I ask about.”

Folk-lore in respect to the shining cuckoo has been added to by Mr Elsdon Best, of Wellington. His Maori friends have told him that Mahuru, who lived in Haw’aikfc traditionally the home of the Maoris before they came to New Zealand, sent the shining cuckoo —the pipi-wharauroa in their language—to this country to tell Maori# here when to plant their Kumara crops. As the messenger sometimes arrived somewhat early in the season, the crops then failed. When the shining cuckoo was heard pinging “ Ivoia, koia. lcoia ” —“ dig, dig, dig it was known that the sowers should go forth to sow, or correctly, the planter# to plant. Maoris from Polynesia, when beginning to cultivate the kumara in New Zealand, Mr Best explains, would discover that the work required much more care and caution tl an customari'y was given to it in the warmer Polynesian climate, and they would recognise the shining cuckoo as the bird that wintered in some of the Polynesian islands. The word “ wharau ” is‘used throughout Polynesia It means “to travel” and “to voyage.” The pipi-wha-rauroa is the much-travelled bird, which crosses wide seas.

Ml- Best has no doubt whatever that the kumara was not indigenous to New Zealand, but was brought from Polynesia by Maori voyagers, apparently by several vessels, but not by the first-comers. As the kumara was the most important cultivated food of the Maoris before Europeans came to change the face of the country, it is not surprising that the planting, cultivation, and storing of it were associated with elaborate and rigid ceremonial. Some incantations recited at the planting to Pam, who occupied almost -the same place in Maori mythology as Ceres occupied in more advanced countries, are very graphio and pretty.

A resident, of Muriwai Beach, Waimauku, reports that on several occasions he has seei* magpies, usually in pairs, chasing a tui, which always seemed to get a had time, Tho tui last season disappeared from that district, perhaps worried by magpies, per* hans frightened’ by the motor traffic. “ These beautifully bushed valleys are woll suited to all kinds of bird life,” this correspondent adds, “and we enjoy the note# and songs of them all.”