NATURE—AND MAN

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 409, 19 December 1932, Page 3

NATURE—AND MAN

Leo.

Fanning.)

THE TRAMPING URGE SHOULD INCREASE LOVE ' OF NATURE AMONG YOUTH* PARADISE OF CHILDHOOD.

(By

Tlie highway marches sturdily to markettown and mill, But I wpuld flnd a little road that loiters up a hill — • A little vagrant, woodland road, gray- ( ribboned through the green, VVhere herry hramhles har the way and orchard elders lean. — Margaret Lee Ashley. The spread of the tramping fervour among the young folk and among some who are not so young should increase-the numher of earnest effective workers for the protection of native forests and birds. It is hard to imagine that these ramhles in delightful, inspiring seenes will fail to create some active enthusiasm for the preservation of natural beauty. "The Child is Father to the Man." Some people, as they grow older, gain a, deeper love of nature, but usually this wonderful world is at itg best for the very young, to whom the days j. and nights are full of miracles. It is a very real world which the young j child sees as a revelation. That is the only time when colours, sounds, ' scents and tastes have their proper j values, clear of the unromantic confusion caused by scientific explanations. To the simple child, Nature's J bank (full of notes of birds, gold of j flowers -and silver currency of sun-lit rivers) gives compound interest. ; It is well for adults to remember j that vivid impressionism of childhood. | Friends of the birds and trees should l take suitable opportunites to put the right thoughts into young minds. Joy and Peace of the Woods. Sir Walter Buller, author of "A \ History of the Birds of New Zealand," passed many happy hours in the native forest. "There is nothing more delightful on a sultry summer's day than to recline in some cool shade and inhale the sweet fragrance of th'e native woods," he wrote. "All is still and quiet save the hurn of the bees in the air and the loud drumming of the tarakihi as it clings to the bark overbead. Then there fallg upon the ear the well-known cry of the koheperoa — not the vociferous seream of , the early morning, but low,sleepy ' cfy — issuing from some lofty tree-top where the bird is resting during the heat of the day. From a neighbouring tree comes the full rich notes of the tui, uttered at short intervals like the slow tolling of a silver bell; then the low whistle of a kaka calling to its mate to come and seek repose while the sun is at its meridian; then all is still again, and nothing is heard but the soft murmur of insects in the air and the languid cry of a solitary fantail as it flit3 -around with fullspread wings and tail, dancing from side to side, or the sweet thrill of the ngirungiru, full of pleasant associations." Fearless Habits of the Kaka Parrot. Many observers have written about the playfulness of the kaka as well as the bigger parrot, the kea. Many years ago, when the late Mr. W. L. Travers was on a remote sheep-sta-tion, near a big forest, kakas came to keep him company. "During the winter season," he wrote, "the wild bird3 often unhesitatingly enter the house for food, making themselves thoroughly at home, -and even roosting on the cross-beams in the kitchen on specially inelement nights. Two of these in particular soon learnt how to open the door of the dairy, which they were very fond of getting into, in order to regale themselves on cream and butter, both of which they appeared to like excessively. I have had several of these birds billing on the eaves of the house in the evening, waiting to be fed, and coming readily to receive from the hand pieces of bread spread thickly with butter, and strewed with sugar. But they rarely eat any of the bread itself, dropping it as soon a3 they had cleared off the butter and sugar. If one bird happened to have finished his portion before the others, he unhesitatingly helped himself to a share of some neighbour's goods, which was alw-ays yielded without the slightest demur. They are very fond of raw flesh, and I have seen them hovering in front of a sheep's pluck hung on a tree, precisely as a humming-bird hovers in front of a flower, eating fragments which they tore off, giving preference to the lungs. When anxious to get into the house, they take post on the window-sill3 and beat at the window with their beaks until admitted. They are very mischievous, however, invariably cutting off the buttons of any article of clothing which may happ'en to be left within their reanh"

A Tui's Comic Interjection. Preceding articles have mentioned the tuis' cleverness in mimicry — a natural skill which onee impressed itself mem6rahly on Sir Walter Buller. "The Maoris fully appreciate the mocking powers of this bird," he stated, "and often devote much time and patience to its instruction. Ther'e are some wonderful stories current -among them of the proficiency it sometimes acquires; and I may mention an amusing incident that came under my notice at Rangitikei some years ago. I had been addressing a large meeting of natives in the whare-runanga, or council-hous'e, on a m-atter of considerable political importance, and had been urging my views with' all the earnestness that the subject demanded. Immediately on the conclusion of my speech, and before the old chief, to whom my arguments were chiefly addressed, h-ad time to reply, a tui, whose netted cage hung to a rafter overhead, responded, in a clear emphatic way, 'Tito!' (false). The circumstances naturally caused much merriment -among my audience, and quite upset the gravity of the venerahle old chief Nepia Taratoa. 'Friend,' he said laughing, 'your arguments are very good; but my mokai is a very wise bird, and he is not yet convinced'!" "First Things First." "First things first-" remarked -a friend to me the other day. "Why worry about native birds at a time like this when so many people are in need of help ?" He meant well— but :j his remark lacked common sense and

vision. There is always -a danger, in a big crisis, that some matters of immeasurable importance to th'e national welfare will be neglected. For example, during the Great War, when man-power was called up to the utmost for military service, much farming land lapsed into wilderness. A wealcening of the policy of preservation of forest and bird-life now would only malce had worse. The farmer has been termed "the backbone of the country." No doubt, today, he would he inclined to put an ■adjective, aching,- in front of the •backbone. Whether the farmer regards himself as at the front or the back of the country at present, it is certain that the forest is the haclcbone of farming, because forest, regulating the flow of water, is the necesdary insurance policy against destruction of farming country. Some time ago a big advertising campaign for paint was based on the slogan: "Save the surface, and you save the lot." Long-sighted men^and women in New Zealand say truly "Save the forest and you save the lot — but to save the forest, you must . ,save the birds."