NATURE—AND MAN

Southland Times, Issue 21823, 28 September 1932, Page 3

NATURE—AND MAN

MARVELLOUS BIRD ARTISTS. VENGEANCE ON VANDALISM. (Edited by Leo Fanning.) Thou slngest of the Future, radiant Bird! Surely the Gods have lent thee sacred fire And taught thee songs forgotten or unheard By old-world men! Thou slngest of Desire, Youth, and high Hope, and the Infinity Of all we dream the Hewer Worlds may be. —Tribute of Dora Wilcox to New Zealand’s bell-bird. It is well known that tuis and bellbirds are mimics—particularly the tui, which is credited with ability to imitate the spitting of an angry cat. This cleverness is excelled in one respect by the long-tailed cuckoo which comes to New Zealand in spring and departs in the late summer, for this visitor is a ventriloquist, according to Mr James Cowan. “This bird called by the Maoris the koekoea, or kohoperoa,” he wrote, “is the arch-deceiver. You may hear one quite close to you, in a tree, but immediately he 'detects your presence he adopts protective tactics. The next shrill cuckoo call will come apparently from a distance, and you may imagine the bird to have taken flight to the tree from which the cry seemingly came. But Mr Koekoea has not stirred; he is sitting as still as can be on the same branch, maybe watching you through its leaves to see how well he has fooled you.” Classic Recitals Of Tuis. That cuckoo might be termed a vaudeville performer on whom such a supreme artist as the soprano tui could look with disdain. The tui and the bell-bird leave man the bother of writing elaborate musical scores. The birds are content to sing them. Mr Johannes Andersen has commented very interestingly on those birds’ natural knowledge of music, which many candidates in competitions might well envy. “There are two striking differences in the song of birds,” Mr Andersen says. “One is the wild wood song, and goes on indeterminedly without form or phrase, and never repeats * itself; the other is the art song, which consists of definite and oft-repeated themes. Most of the English birds have the wild wood song, the striking exception, perhaps, being the blackbird, which is strongly imbued with art song. A German named Stradler was so impressed with the themes used by the blackbird that he wrote a book about them. The thrush, one poet says, sings his song twice over, but such is not the case. The thrush’s song is never the same, and certainly he does not repeat a phrase. “New Zealand birds, for the most part, have the art song, and place their notes in order like a musician. Not only that but they have repertoires, the same as human beings. When they sing art songs they use practically the same musical notation as we do. That is not at all impossible or illogical, as probably we sang originally as the wild birds did, and so arrived at some form of notation. Like us, the birds use tones and semi-tones, and sometimes third and quarter tones such as occurred in the very old Maori music. “If the tui would always sing his best there is not a bird on the face of the globe to touch him, but with his clear pure notes he will introduce those mocking, harsh ones,” concludes Mr Anderson. “The records we have heard of the English nightingale are rubbish alongside the lovely song of the tui. He has a range of four octaves and usually sings in soprano register, but can soar two octaves above it. The tui can oc-

casionally be heard singing duets with bell-birds, another artistic songster to be heard to advantage up the Wanganui River. There I have heard the tui begin a theme, and the bellbird complete it very cleverly, the tui bringing in his harsh low notes as bass to the bellbird’s song. The bellbird sings definite themes and can elaborate them with variations. The singing is usually done by the females. Birds, as a rule, have no emotional feeling in their song, but when the male bellbird sings there is nothing like his voice for feeling.” Another Story of The Kea. Mr A. P. Harper, a well-known mountaineer, tells some very interesting stories of the frolics of Keas in the Alps. “When a turkey cock arrived at Mt. Cook Hermitage in a crate, we confidently looked for some fun in the morning,” he says. “Before leaving for my camp up the Tasman I helped to release the gobbler from his box. As soon as the box was taken out into the yard about thirty keas came to investigate, and sat round on the fence in puzzled silence while the battens were torn off. The turkey strutted out and puffed around the yard. The keas, still puzzled, merely ruffled their feathers, and maintained a disgusted silence at so tame a performance. Then one, apparently the leader, gave a derisive shriek of ‘K-e-e-e-a’, as much as to say 'Come away, boys, this is a poor show,’ which so hurt the turkey’s dig-

nity he could not let it pass unnoticed, and he issued a challenging gobble. This gave the keas their cue for a bit of fun, and instead of flying away they shrieked in chorus, the turkey obligingly responding every time till the fun became fast and furious for those humourists, who kept him gobbling till he was hoarse. It was so good a ‘show from the Keas 1 point of view that they repeated it for several days, every morning just after dawn.” “The Avengers.” No better description of the stupid slaughter of forest on steep watersheds has been given than the poem, “The Avengers,” by O. N. Gillespie, published in the New Zealand “Forest Magazine” of Ist. May, 1922. Here are several verses:— Like some huge earth-god, sprawling motionless And staring at the sea, the long hid lay, While busy centuries wrought him a dress „ .. Of splendid green to cloak the dingy clay. In toiling hands the spinning axes rang. Till, crashing one by one the great Hark! As they lay, a grim bush spirit "Brothers, the Bush . . . will take revenge . . . Farewell." Next at the reckless bidding of a fool. The sunlight sunken in each dying leaf Leapt to fierce flame that raged in mad misrule, . . Leaving an ashen desert, grey as grief. The timid alien grasses came at last, Pliant and servll", dreading the strange Faintly ’they heard, rustling with fear, The Sl warrior song of an attacking band. Tauwhinu and tall fem, foxglove and hutiwal*. Swarming up the long slopes, pouring through the passes On the flats the ragwort’s yellow banners fly; . , ~ "Vengeance for the slain trees; death to stranger grasses.” ♦The dreaded burr, the "biddybid.”