WAYS OF THE WILD.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 230, 28 September 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

WAYS OF THE WILD.

A NATURALIST'S NOTEBOOK. j THE MOBEPOBK. j (By A. T. PYCROFT.); A keen young naturalist of twelve, writing under the noin de plume of "Riroriro," states he is very interested in birds. He first became interested in birds when a friend gave him a collection'of eggs, but later he found he .rot more pleasure by watching the birds !hemselvea than taking their eggs. I also when a boy learnt of many of the Sttß of birds/and that knowledge has gfven me lasting pleasure and has been of more value than the possession of the eggs. As the years pass I look back to the many happy *? .■*«?* "% me> several questions about the names ol native Wrds q "Riroriro" wishes to know £ 'Cor pork" the name which appears above the cage of our sma native owl at the zoo, should not be "more pork. The name "more pork" was given to this owl, the ruru of the Maori, by the early colonists on account of a frmcmu resemblance of one of its calls to the words "more pork." The native name ruru means close or hidden, and no doubt refers to this nocturnal bird which remains hidden during the day. ihe ruru's common note is "kou kou, sometimes frequently repeated, and this call has been changed into more pork by the colonists. Sir W. L. Buller, in his 'Birds of New Zealand," relates that as long ago 1 as 1846, when our Boldiers were fighting Maniaku and Rangihaeata in the Hutt Valley, the discipline of the piquet, turned out about an hour, before daylight, was upset by a titter among the men when the officer in command, who was a new arrival in the country, ordered no talking in the ranks, hearing, as he thought, the words "more pork." Captain Power, in his book "Sketches in New Zealand," published in 1849, states: "At the attack of Kororareka by Heke and Kawiti, the native parties, in moving to their positions about the blockhouses and town before daybreak, communicated their whereabouts to one another by imitating the cry of this bird, which the sentries had been so accustomed to hear of a morning that it did not attract their notice. A Bird of 111 Omen. Eledon Best states that the cry of the owl at night has often caused a Maori village to be deserted, the whole of the people betaking themselves to the forest to escape an expected attack from enemies. The owl was considered by the Maoris as a bird of ill omen. Buller relates that he found a nest in a clump of wood on the banks of the Wairoa River containing two fully fledged young ones. Buller sent his native lad up the tree to capture them, and while he was so engaged the parent birds came forth from their hiding place and darted at his face with a low growling note, making him yell with fear. The Maoris share in the almost universal feeling of superstition regarding the owl. The Maori lad's conscience was troubled, and a≤ the shades of night were closing in upon us with the call of "more pork' in every direction, he handed Buller the captives and hurried away from the scene of his exploit, evidently sharing in some degree the horrors of that luckless wi°ht immortalised by Mr. Stevenson in his "Birds of Norfolk," who, hav< ing killed the church owl as it flitted past him, ran shrieking home and confessed his awful crime—"l've been and killed a cherubim." Besides the cry of "more pork," this owl has a peculiar cry of "ke-e-eo ke-e-eo" repeated several times, and also at times a louder and shriller note. This owl as a rule nests in hollow trees. Three eggs have sometimes been found, but two is the usual number. They are white, with a very slight gloss on the surface. The young leave the nest about the beginning of January and may then be heard uttering a ■peculiar sibilent snoring sound. Although habitually nocturnal, it is occasionally seen abroad in the day time, but only during very dull weather. When discovered in its hiding place during the day it is found sitting upright with the head drawn in, the eyes half closed, and the feathers of the body raised, making the bird appear much larger than it really is. Students consulting the second edition of Buller's "Birds of New Zealand" will find it referred to as Spiloglaux, but it is now known at Ninox Novae Zealandiae. Birds of the genus ninox are found in Southern Asia to Australia and New Zealand. An Australian bird, the tawny frogmouth, is, according to I Charles Barrett, popularly known there as the "mopoke," owing to the widespread belief that it utters the weird call "more pork" heard so frequently in the bush on still nights. The boobook owl Ninox boobook Barrett thinks is the true mopoke, though the frogmouth also has a "more pork" call. This is one of the vexed questions of Australian ornithology which has been debated scores of times. When camping on Hen Island, off- the Whangarei Heads, I was examining a hole in a puriri one morning and disturbed a morepork from its retreat. Immediately tuis and bellbirds, which were plentiful, gave chase, at the same time uttering their alarm calls, saddlebacks joining in, their clarion calls being taken up by other birds in the vicinity. This babel attracted several kakas, who also joined the throng, uttering their harsh cry and whistling. The late Mr. Colenso relates a similar occurrence. He states that in the early days the forest teemed with bird life so widely different from when he wrote in ISBB. In the early days our little owl (New Zealand possesses a large owl known as the laughing owl, npw very rare) was to be often seen snugly ensconced in some sheltered nook and not infrequently nestling close under the fronds of the tree fern. There, ae soon as his retreat was seen by thf smaller birds, the mobbing began. The incessant noise the little fellows madf brought up their friends from all quarters filled with rage and intent on insulting their common enemy. Whihthey would often fly up quite close to him, they never laid hold of him oi touched him with their beaks. Still tin owl did not like it and tried hard to gei at them without removing from his perch by thrusting forth his head and fiercely snapping his beak. The difference of the dilation of the pupils of his eyes could be seen, which sometime? glared on the disturbers of his sleep and peace, yet it is doubtful if he clearly saw them. The owl at such time* makes no eound. There would be nc rest, no peace for him while daylight lasted. Occasionally he will fly to some other tree, the birds following in pursuit, the mobbing bein<j continued until dusk, and then, no doubt, the tables were turned upon his persecutors with heavy interest.