NATURE—AND MAN

Southland Times, Issue 22131, 27 September 1933, Page 11

NATURE—AND MAN

PERSISTENT DEER-PROTESTORS. NATIONAL WELFARE THREATENED (Edited by. Leo Fanning.) Well, friends of the native forest and birds, it is again necessary to tell you that sportsmen who dearly like the stalking of deer are fighting hard for a measure of protection of these destructive animals. It has been definitely proved, again and again, that wherever these pests have a footing in the forests they are a grievous nuisance, but the persons who enjoy firing at these wily targets turn a blind eye to the damage. Knowingly or unwittingly, they are regarding their own pleasure as more important than the preservation of the national forests, which are necessary for the conservation of the soil—the very earth which gives New Zealand its living. Will this selfish view prevail? Will New Zealanders agree to let stalkers have their way, even if it brings death to the forests and ruination to the lowex - country? The word “control” is being shrewdly used by the stalkers. “Keep the deer under control, and all will be well,” is practically their plea. That argument will not stand up to facts. Consider the wild, rugged, broken country in which hundreds of thousands of deer are now strongly established. They can retreat into mountain fastnesses not easily reached by man. Their natural increase is alarmingly large, and they have no enemies such as the fierce flesh-eaters which prey on their kin in many other countries. Fiddling with “control” schemes is like playing with fire. They give the deex - a good chance to win against New Zealand’s people. The instinct of self-preservation requires the New Zealand public to declare war against the deer, and keep the war going until the forests are freed from their destroyers.

Beautiful Gymnasts. Among the many kinds of Australian acacia (of which the sweet-scented wattle is one) is the tree known as the “bottle-brush,” a name inspired by the big greenish-yellow sprays of bloom, which look like beautiful brushes. It is a quick-growing tree, with a handsome habit in all seasons of the year, particularly in the flowering period of spring. The other day, when I was passing a clump of these trees in Wellington, I saw scores of white-eyes played merry-go-round on the brushes in theix - quest of the honeyed juice known as nectar. What a delightful display of acrobatics it was! The quickly-moving olive-green jackets and russet vests of the birds mingled vex-y pleasantly with the bright colour - of the brushes. The silver circles around the fossickers’ eyes suggested a thought that they were wearing white-rimmed spectacles to help them in their search of food. Suddenly one of the honey-eaters paused. Its attention had been caught by a withered twig. “Ah!” thought Mr Waxeye. “Here is something solid after the dainty appetiser of the nectar. I know what is worrying that twig.” Quickly a sharp little beak did some probing, and the caterpillar tribe sufered a casualty. The bird looked about for similar troubled, twigs, and othexcaterpillars had sudden death. We are all trying to have that comforting state of affairs known as a “favourable balance.” We have certain things plus and others minus—and when we have more plus than minus we are able to brighten the days foxthe butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. Well, the popular whiteeye is said to have faults as well as virtues—and in the view of some orchardists the bad overbalances the good. But have those orchardists worked out the balance correctly? I have just read a well-reasoned article on the white-eye, written by Dr. J. G. Myers for the “New Zealand Journal of Agriculture.” It can be taken for granted that an official publication of the Department of Agriculture will not lend itself to the broadcasting of error. Dr. Myers strikes a favourable balance for the white-eye. “It is no exaggeration,” he states, “to say that nearly every major insect pest of the New Zealand orchard is in one stage or another of its existance searched out and eaten by the parties of white-eyes which subject every tree, every twig, and every crevice to the strictest surveillance. There can be no question that the value of the services rendered by the white-eye in the orchard alone in destroying insect pests throughout the year more than count-er-balance the depredations committed during the ripe-fruit season.”

Help the Tuis to Live.

A previous article mentioned how the tui and other native birds helped in the pollination of certain native trees. Tuis and bell-birds do similar service for many species of Australian eucalypts (popularly known as gumtrees), which are rich in nectar. Alas, when some tuis have mustered for this feast they have fallen into the hands of pitiless pot-hunters. “It appears,” remarks Dr. Myers, "that the persecution of the tui is not confined to the bush itself, but that even those which venture to visit the gum plantations in settled areas are in some districts shot for gastronomic purposes by Maoris. The decay of tapu and the spread of firearms have, generally speaking turned the Maori into a serious enemy of all the forest-birds which are large enough for food.” How sad it is that so many of the modern Maoris lack the commonsense and sentiment of their ancestors! Will a day come again when powerful chiefs will be able to influence their folk against vandalism? Meanwhile every possible effort should be made to .detect slayers of “protected” native birds and inflict a proper punishment on them.

Has any other country as large a fuchsia tree as New Zealand’s? No doubt, an average person would not think that this pleasant tree has any useful function in the forest except the food that it yields for tuis and bellbirds with its nectar and berries. However, the fuchsia, in co-operation with other small trees, “plays an important part in the regeneration of the New Zealand forests,” says Dr. Myers. “It stabilizes the lower slopes, often stoney and clayey, of many valleys which otherwise would suffer much from erosion, and by affording shelter to ferns and other small plants, helps to form a seed-bed for the young plants of many timber-trees.” Chants for the Dead. A much-used steep path winds between an old cemetery and the grounds of Victoria College, Wellington. Now and then a thrush or a hedge-sparrow will stand on the top of a tomb-stone giving a goodwill message from the dead to the fretful public of to-day The hedge-sparrow’s chant among the graves usually comes at the onset of dusk, and is thus more impressive, as it is a note of good hope, despite the threat of night. That is one touch of the cemetery. Another, “distinctly modern,” was furnished one bright day by some students. They had noticed the broad flat top of a tomb. So they spread themselves prone upon it for a sunning. In a sense they had ordered the dead to serve the living.