THE MENACE OF THE GERMAN OWL.

Forest and Bird, Issue 30, 1 August 1933, Page 14

THE MENACE OF THE GERMAN OWL.

(By Hugh Ross, of Invercargill, Junior Member.)

"Whooll,” the haunting cry comes through the night, causing us to look with apprehension at the grey shape perched on the gate-post, a score of yards distant. As we look he ruffles his feathers, bobs his head, and suddenly bursts into cries like whistling laughter. Little grey killer. That same cry strikes terror to the heart of any small birds within hearing. Again, yet again, does he call. Then on noiseless wings he begins his night’s hunting. The damage done by a single owl in a few nights is almost incredible. Every nest in his hunting ground is robbed. The nests themselves are torn to pieces, the eggs, and probably the luckless mother birds devoured. It is the native birds that chiefly suffer. There are ten times the number of owls in the bush than the number that haunt the farmyard trees. Little wonder, then, that for a while the smaller birds were on the decrease. 1 say for a while, because about 1925-26 the owl appeared to have it all his own way, while the smaller birds rapidly disappeared. Now, however, the owls, in this and other surrounding districts, have practically disappeared, while the native birds have increased. As an example of the damage done by these grey killers, the following facts will show only too plainly why we should do our best to exterminate them. Three years ago, a pair of grey warblers that were always to be seen about the fruit trees of the orchard, nested in an old pear tree, the nest being very well hidden. A pair of silver eyes at the same time built in a hawthorn hedge close by. They, unlike the warblers, took little or no pains in hiding their nest. It was built on a branch projecting over an old drain; and could be seen at quite a distance. For a while all was well. I think there were young birds in the warblers’ swinging home. The silver eyes were brooding on their eggs. Then, one night, the melancholy cry of an owl was heard. For three nights he haunted the orchard, in that time robbing both nests. The fourth night, to the vengeful crack of a gun, he toppled from his perch on the ridge of the barn. Neither warblers nor silver eyes were ever seen again. This owl is quite fearless of man, and will approach to within a few feet of him. Some time ago, I was returning home just at twilight, when I was startled by the cry of one close by. A glance round showed him perched on the branch of a dead tree, within twenty feet of me. I threw a stone at him, but instead of taking fright he darted in pursuit of the missile. Doubtless lie took it for a moth or some such insect. A half-dozen or so stones he treated in a similar fashion. It was not until one

thumped on his perch, upsetting him, that he eventually' took fright. At that, he only flew fifty yards or so to another perch, from where he regarded me suspiciously, cocking his head first on one side and then on the other. Another fact will further show their boldness. A neighbour had a hen with a dozen chickens which one by one disappeared. Traps failing to catch stoats or other vermin, the blame was laid on a German owl. Deciding to shoot it, our neighbour accordingly waited in the vicinity of the coop one moonlight night, his gun barrel projecting in front of him. For some time he waited, with his eyes fixed on the surrounding trees. At last, tiring of his steady watching he chanced to look down, and beheld the very bird he was hunting perched on the barrels of his gun. Although never witnessing anything like this, I have many times seen them alight within a few feet of me. A peculiar fact about them is that at first moreporks appeared to hold sway in the bush. Then the owls appeared in hundreds and the ■ moreporks disappeared. Now again the owls appear to be dying out, while the moreporks are again making their appearance. To give an example of the owls that lived in one small patch of bush. While returning from school one night, myself and a few companions were invited over to witness the falling of a giant red pine. The crash of that grand tree as it fell was a sight never to be forgotten. Perhaps more so, however, was that of scores of startled owls, which swarmed everywhere, making the bush ring with their wild whistling. Indeed there must have been hundreds of them, for they were visible everywhere, and others could be heard on all sides. During that period I only once heard the sad cry of a morepork. Now they are quite plentiful, while the owls are fast disappearing. The owls themselves are not hard to catch. Using an ordinary rabbit trap, they can be trapped very easily at the mouths of old rabbit burrows in clay banks. If there are any trees nearby this method usually proves very successful. They can usually be shot among the burnt stumps and fallen bush. Using a light shotgun a surprising number can often be taken. There is some peculiar attraction for the owls among the moss-covered fallen trunks. Perhaps it is the grubs and beetles that are usually to be found among the same that attract them. Perhaps, and of the two I think the latter by far the more probable, it is the fact that their colour blends so perfectly with that of the logs that they adopt it as a natural means of safety. Having no enemies, it seems very probable that these birds will naturally increase. If such be the case, our smaller native birds are doomed. Perhaps stoats account for a few owls, but even those blood-thirsty little killers as a general rule show caution as to what they attack. Harrier hawks probably destroy

an odd one, although I only know of one occasion in which one actually caught an owl —that was after it had been mobbed by starlings. Several times I have seen them swoop at the grey shapes which, although looking decidedly uncomfortable and frightened, refused to leave their perches, thus causing the harrier to flap off in search of other prey. Once or twice I have seen cats stalking them, usually in the bright moonlight. In every case, however, the grey birds proved too wary and wideawake, never letting puss get within striking distance. Thus it would seem that with no natural enemies the owl will naturally increase. Such, however, does not seem to be the case, for within the last few years there has been a decided decrease in their numbers, until within the last year they have, in this district at least, almost entirely disappeared, it being now but seldom that one hears their weird cry. This may be because the district has been killed out by them. On the other hand, the equally mournful cry of the morepork can now be heard on every hand throughout the night. That he is not nearly so harmful to our small native birds as is the owl is easily seen by the fact that while moreporks and other birds lived and flourished side by side for probably centuries, directly the owl was introduced both began rapidly to disappear. Of course, owls haunting the neighbourhood of farm buildings do a certain amount of good in the way of destroying vermin, such as mice, rats, insects, and a considerable number of sparrows and other such birds. Nevertheless the damage done by the owl to our native birds far exceeds the good he may do in the way of helping the farmer. After summing things up, the wisest plan seems to be to destroy all these grey killers that come our way, for unless we do our beautiful, friendly native birds must surely become less and less until finally they disappear