Birds and Bush of the Kaimanawas

Forest and Bird, Issue 91, 1 February 1949, Page 4

Birds and Bush of the Kaimanawas

By

DR. D. A. BATHGATE

EARLY in the present year I took part in a 10-day trip to the headwaters of the Ngaruroro River, which rises in the northeastern end of the Kaimanawa Ranges. This river is one of the major rivers of the North Island and has its source almost from the middle of the island. It has watersheds in common with the following large rivers—the Waikato, Rangitikei, Tuki Tuki, Tutaekuri and Mohaka, and through an intermediate saddle with the Rangitaiki. It traverses the AucklandWellington, and later the Wellington-Hawke’s Bay provincial boundaries, and finally breaks through the ranges to flow across Hawke’s Bay and enter the sea at halfway between Napier and Hastings.

As an illustration of how the headwaters of this river may be considered to lie in the centre of the main watershed of the North Island, certain members of the party in one afternoon had a drink of water from branches of the Ngaruroro,' Rangitikei and Waikato Rivers. When one realises where these rivers flow into the sea and how far their mouths are apart, one may well understand how extensive an area this river drains.

From Mt. Mangarahi at the head of the Ngaruroro River very extensive panoramic views can be obtained, ranging from Mounts Edgecumbe and Tarawera in the north to the Tararua Range in the south, and from the Titiokura saddle on the Napier-Taupo road in the east, to Lake Taupo and the peaks of the National Park in the west.

In its upper reaches, the Ngaruroro River is fed by tributaries which rise in beautiful beech forested gullies and gorges to form the parent stream which courses for miles along a tussockclad open valley, at an elevation of over 3000 feet. Here the beech forests recede from the valley floor but persist on the ridges and the spurs.

In the middle part of its course the river enters a series of deep, rugged, bush-clad gorges to emerge finally into the rich farm lands of Hawke’s Bay. ! The beech forests of this region are not the best type of bush for bird life as they do not supply much variety of food. Compared with our mixed tain forests they offer a poor substitute except for one or two species of native birds.

THE DEER MENACE

The bush in all this region shows signs of extensive deer damage. Over a great extent of the area such species as the five-finger have been practically wiped out and many other trees have been extensively damaged. In traversing these forests we were appalled to note the extent of the death and destruction of the bush and to see the denudation of the forest floor by the deer, which are certainly noble looking animals. But deer and native bush cannot live together for any long period. One or the other must go. The deer cullers have been, and still are, doing efficient work in this region. Six years ago, when the writer was last in the area, more than one hundred deer were counted in the course of a single day’s tramp in the upper river basin. On this last trip only 55 deer were counted in the whole 10 days. Much credit must be given to the Department of Internal Affairs and its officers and staff for using every endeavour to deal efficiently with the deer menace.

Our farthest out camp was pitched on the bush edge at Mount Mangarahi, close to the Tauranga-Taupo Divide. On a previous trip many wild cattle were seen in this bush. This time none were seen and no tracks noticed. This serves to confirm the statements of the back country people who state that where deer increase wild cattle tend to die out owing to the deer eating out the available food supply in the bush.

The bush on whose edge we pitched our top camp also showed extensive deer damage. There were no young treesthe forest floor was almost bareeven the species of hard fern present had been eaten down almost to the ground. Some of the large trees were scarred heavily by the rubbing of the deers’ antlers. It was a saddening sight to realise that uncontrolledthis beautiful forest was doomed to death and destruction through these animals, and even with heavy culling it will, be many years before true regeneration is noticed. Our party left from Hastings and proceeded along the Napier-Taihape road to the Owhaoko homestead, which is situated at an elevation of 3000 feet.

We left the homestead after lunch for the Golden Hills hut—l 6 miles away at the head of the Taruarau, a tributary of the Ngaruroro.

This hut is picturesquely situated at the edge of the beech forest which extends over the saddle into Gold Creek and the Ngaruroro basin. The first day’s trip was through open tussock country with Ruapehu towering up into the western sky and the Golden Hills in sight ahead of us. These latter foothills of the Kaimanawasare covered with the beautiful red tussock and in certain lights appear red gold in colour. They are well named the Golden Hills. In ages past this, country has been covered by repeated showers of hot pumice from the Taupo volcanoes, and in the banks of the streams and on the sides of the gullies remains of trees converted into charcoal by the various eruptions could be seen. On the first day three pairs of paradise duck were seen and several pairs of banded dotterels. The native lark or pipit was quite numerous, running along the track ahead of us and then flying for a short distance to run ahead again —a habit somewhat similar to the bird called the “road runner” in the U.S.A.

We arrived to the Golden Hills hut about 7.30 p.m. and were delighted to see a pair of native parrakeets feeding on the ground adjacent to the hut. We were not so pleased to notice a pair of Australian magpies in the same vicinity. These imported birds seem to have firmly established themselves in the back country and to have penetrated into what is left of our mountain forests — much to the detriment of our native birds.

The bush at the head of the Taruarau is beech forest. We had the impression that many of the trees in the bush were dying—possibly as the result of the third consecutive dry year and possibly also as the result of invasion by the larvae of beetles which were once kept in control by our now almost vanished native birds. No doubt the birds need the bush but the bush also needs the birds in order to survive.

It was pleasant to see that one species of bird could be described as plentiful. This was the New Zealand rifleman, the “titi pounamu” of the Maori. This, the smallest of our native birds, is one of the most delightful to observe. His colour is a soft greyish green with some golden feathers in the wing and a grey breast. Perhaps he was called a “rifleman” by the early settlers because members of the Rifle Brigade in the old British Army wore green jackets. His Maori name is more descriptive, the “titi” being an atempt to imitate his high-pitched note (tee!-tee!) and the “pounamu” the word used for greenstone and describing his colour.

We found these birds everywhere in the beech forests. They were never still, but constantly on the move up and around the trunks and branches of the trees searching every crevice and crack in the bark for grubs and insects. Their work in controlling the smaller pests must be invaluable. The rifleman takes little notice of human —they seem to be so urgent in their search for food that they keep incessantly on the move. We were privileged to find a rifleman’s nest. This was built in an old. feeding box which had been constructed out of a packing case and sacking, nailed in to a beech tree at Boyd’s hut. The nest was shown to us by a, deer culler. On examining the nest we discovered a tragedy. A rat had found the nest and destroyed not only the eggs but also the parent bird who had been incubating the eggs. The remains of the egg shells were still in the nest along with pieces of the body and wings •of the parent bird. This pair of birds had the previous year actually built their nest inside the hut on the sill above the door and in full view of the

two deer cullers who occupied the hut. They had laid their eggs and hatched out and reared two young ones. The only way into the hut was by a small crack above the door which they used. They showed no fear at all of the occupants of the hut and went about the business of nesting and rearing their family without taking any notice of the human beings. The paradise duck seems to be holding its own in • spite of shooters and other introduced enemies. They draw one’s attention to their presence by the shrill cries of the light-headed female and the deep honking notes of the male bird. The presence of young was denoted by the frantic endeavours of one of the parehts to draw us away on a false scent by fluttering around on the ground and dragging a wing as if sorely wounded or in great distress. On such occasions I have seen them luring dogs and humans right away from their family by a most finished and convincing display of acting. We also saw grey ducks but only one blue duck. This latter bird, known to the Maoris as “whio,” is a true bush lover. Where they are not disturbed they are very tame — tame that when a stick was tossed towards this duck it actually swam towards the party to examine the stick. They are beautiful birds, of a soft grey-blue colour, and have a high pitched whistling cry which can be quite disconcerting when one stumbles across one at night in the inky blackness of a mountain gorge. One of the most interesting things to watch about these

ducks is the way they can proceed up a roaring, boulder-strewn creek bed, with apparently very little effort. They take advantage of every little eddy and cross current, and seem eel-like in their movements upstreammore like a fish than a bird.

In the open tussocky country we saw banded dotterel, which were nesting, also the harrier hawk— “kahu” of the Maoris. This bird I am sure is useful to the farmers, although he is ruthlessly trapped and killed throughout New Zealand. Much of the damage done to lambs and cast sheep can rightly be blamed on the black-backed gull. The harrier hawk, on the other hand, destroys many young rabbits and also field mice, the latter causing considerable loss to the farmer through the destruction of grass seed. A harrier’s nest was found right out in the tussocks—it contained four eggs.

When pitching our camp we were visited by a New Zealand robin—the only one we saw on the trip. Each morning it would sing in the tree above the tent for quite half an hour and again in the evening. This bird did not seem interested in our doingsafter the first inspection —in fact, our presence from then on was completely ignored. One of the most attractive of our New Zealand birds—the grey warbler— noticed all through the trip. This bird ranges from the sea coast up to the last clump of subalpine bush. As usual, it was the last bush bird noticed in climbing up the ranges, and its delightful little song was the first to be heard when coming down off the high tops.

One small flock of waxeyes (or white-eyes) was seen; these must share with the grey warbler the distinction of being the most widely distributed of our native birds. Bellbirds were seen, and the similarity of some of their notes to that of the tui was

particularly apparent. Sixteen years ago the writer was privileged to hear a magnificent morning chorus by bellbirds at the Golden Hills hut, but on this occasion the bellbird was not present in nearly so great numbers.

An occasional pair of tuis was seen, and it was noted that one particular tui sang until 8.25 p.m., when dusk had fallen, and the beautiful liquid notes of the tui were rendered along with an obligato provided by a morepork from a neighbouring tree. On one occasion a tui was seen pursuing a long-tailed cuckoo.

The shining cuckoo was —with its lilting song echoing and re-echoing through the

bush —calling that summer had indeed come. The long-tailed cuckoo was seen on several occasions and heard at times throughout the day and most of the night. It has a slurring note closely resembling one of the chaffinch’s notes and has the same ventriloquial gifts as the shining cuckoo. It was always most puzzling to locate the bird and quite a time was spent in trying to find where the call was coming from. One was seen flying overhead and calling out at the same time. Through the binoculars the bird was seen to open its bill wide every time it calledeven when in flight. The long-tailed cuckoo is a large, handsome, rakish-looking bird, shunned and disliked by all other bush birds, but it is always a thrill to hear or to see one of them.

An occasional kaka was seen, but these were rare. Each evening one solitary bird could be seen > and heard flying up and across the head of the valley. Everyone knows when the kaka is on the move as this bird keeps calling out as he flies.

Parrakeets were not uncommon, and were usually noticed high up in the tree tops or flying in a small flock over the valley. It seems strange to think that away up in the untouched country one of our native birds looked so much out of place and almost bizarre. The reaction of the average New Zealander would be, “I wonder what cage these birds got out of?” Whiteheads were present in fair numbers in the bush. They are cheerful, noisy birds —the ones we saw all kept fairly high up in the trees. Only one fantail was seen, and only an occasional tomtit. No wekas were seen and no kiwis heard. A few pair of grey ducks were seen on the river, also a black shag. Introduced birds in the bush country consisted of the blackbird and the chaffinch, which seem to be the first and farthest out of any of the imported birds in any outback part of New Zealand. One song thrush was seen. We had ten happy days in ideal surroundings in country that apart from the deer damage must have looked much the same one thousand years ago, and I hope will look much the same a thousand years from now—our own Native Land as God made it. WE SHOULD BE MORE DETERMINED THAN EVER TO PROTECT ITS UNIQUE FORESTS AND BIRDS FROM EXPLOITATION, VANDALISM AND DESTRUCTION. IF WE ARE NOT PREPARED TO FIGHT FOR THEIR PROTECTION WE ARE SURELY NOT FIT TO INHERIT AND HOLD THEM.