THE GREY DUCK

Forest and Bird, Issue 47, 1 February 1938, Page 9

THE GREY DUCK

NEED FOR REAL SANCTUARIES

THE plight of the grey and other species of native duck is yearly becoming more and more desperate. Overshooting, the destruction of natural habitats, the importation of black swan, mallard and other foreign competitors, concentration of shooting on waterfowl owing £o the rapid decrease of upland game birds during many years such as pheasants and quail, have all been factors in depleting the numbers of native waterfowl.

Various expedients have been suggested to avoid the inevitable finale—the placing of all native waterfowl on the list of absolutely protected birds. Amongst the various suggestions put forth have been the destruction of hawk and pukeko and the closing of the shooting season for one or two years.

The killing of the natural enemy in a wholesale manner is perhaps the usual remedy occurring to the non-biological mind, which does not take into consideration the fact that hawks, for instance, are the arch enemy of rodents and that rats take a tremendous toll of ducklings, so much so that one competent observer, who has unique opportunities for making accurate observations, concluded that no less than 90 per cent, of the ducklings hatched in his district fell a prey to rats. A close season, although it is necessary as a primary measure, falls far short of the need. Such procedure, because of the very ineffective field administration of wild life matters in New Zealand would merely result in shooting of the increase, upon the resumption of legal killing, despite bag-limit restrictions. What then is the real remedy for the present state of affairs with regard to our disappearing native waterfowl? It is, of course, plain to anyone with any knowledge of real conservation that large-scale efforts should be made to reestablish the natural habitat on a comprehensive scale by setting up a chain of efficientlydesigned and managed waterfowl sanctuaries throughout the Dominion. The following description of a sanctuary in Utah and how it is proposed to administer it, as explained by George H. Nichols in “Bird

Lore,” will illustrate what is meant by an effici-ently-managed sanctuary:—

A WILDFOWL UTOPIA.

By George H. Nichols.

On a perfect early June day, at the height of the nesting and brood-rearing season, in the most nearly perfect part of the year in that locality, we travel westward out of Brigham City, Utah, to visit the ideal and nearly completed Federal Government wildfowl sanctuary, the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge. The road to the Refuge leaves this northern Utah city on Forest Street, traversing, from almost immediately outside it, the low alkali flats which were at one time the bed of ancient and mysterious Lake Bonneville, a scant remnant of which is now the Great Salt Lake. Three shore-lines, marking different levels of the old lake, can plainly be seen to the left, after a turn southwest. Highest of these—almost 1000 feetshows the Bonneville line, a few hundred feet below, the Stansbury, and, low at the base of the Wasatch Range, the Provo level, all named for early explorers. Our road extends through a distance of six to eight miles, well rounded above the flat to facilitate wet-weather travel. The soil is almost bare, deprived of all growth except a scant mantle of wire-grass. Sluggish old delta channels with barren banks appear, unusual to the West where rivers mainly are confined to narrow canyons and valleys, their waters rushing and leaping. In the Mississippi Valley such slow streams as these would be lined and overhung with swamp elms, ash, maples, birches, and sycamores, and would bear the name “bayous.” Marshlands begin to appear now, interspersed with numerous barracks-like structures which in season house the members of duck clubs. These clubs are the forerunners of the Government’s present work of reclamation for wild life. Mostly they have been in existence for many years. One of them bears the modest, shrinking name, “The Millionaires’ Duck Club.”

The terrain becomes increasingly marshy now, and water-fowl life more abundant. The

low buildings of the project appear and we follow for a short distance along the banks of the main stream of the Bear River, turgid and muddy, and soon find ourselves in the midst of the Government village, 15 miles, or a little more, from our starting-point. We present our credentials to the refuge’s superintendent, and are immediately taken in charge and introduced to the small administrative staff. The intent of the Government in the preservation of wild life is fully outlined and many of its methods explained. We are then conducted through the group of buildings, preliminary to a tour of the nesting-grounds, the most interesting proving to be the power plant and the as-yet-incompleted research building for the biological staff. The complete powerplant furnishes the refuge buildings with heat, light, and refrigeration, operated from a natural gas-well. As pure water has not been obtained, a distilling plant is used. A filtration plant furnishes water for all other purposes. The building for scientific research houses apparatus to be used in the study of wild-life plagues such as have decimated the flocks in past years. Methods of feed-growing and all factors contributing to the well-being of the feathered inhabitants are studied.

We are shown a great store of various wild plant seeds which must have been gathered with infinite labour from many distant points, to be used experimentally to supply a variety as well as an increase of food-supply. A great room of glass tanks, located in tiers, one above the other, for experimental and observation purposes is a feature of the research plant. Steel towers, 100 feet high, with mounted telescopes, stand out prominently in the refuge, for the observation of flights and the apprehension of poachers. There are warehouses, cottages for employees, garages, and other buildings, constructed with the appearance of permanency and utility usual to Government building. A raised area of about 10 acres, which is to be parked with lawns, trees, driveways, and paths, is being formed by CCC workers about the buildings. The top-soil of this island is hauled about 20 miles. This is made necessary on account of the alkalinity of the soil of the locality. Here is also under construction a

lagoon, fed by the river, which will be surrounded by a high fence and in which will be kept on display specimens of the wildfowl life of the region. The trip through the nesting-grounds is made on roadways on the top of the dikes, of which there are more than 40 miles. They are 150 feet thick at the base and about 8 feet high. The territory encompassed amounts to over 60,000 acres. Several miles of the fresh-water side have been beached with fine gravel. Grit is as essential to the well-being of wild fowl as to domestic fowl. At the mouth of the river the main dike contains forty spillways to keep the water at the desired level.

Our conductor, the superintendent, has explained to us the qualifications which are considered for the selection of employees. They are, he says, experience in similar work, such as game-warden, and special adaptation. Courses are now given as preparation in colleges. As we are shown about we are able to observe the meaning of special adaptation—the careful watchfulness of the mother hen coupled with the same amount of affection for her charges.

Driving out upon the first dike to begin a 10-mile tour, the most interesting imaginable, our guide demonstrates all this special adaptation. His care with the nests of Teals, which he searched out, standing smilingly by while our unaccustomed eyes fail to locate the nest 2 feet away, although it contains 9 eggs almost as large as pullet eggs, shows to us what he had meant.

We note now, all along the way, the peculiar circumstance that all the nests are located on the north and west sides of the dikes. Our guide can give no reason for it but it is noticeable that, of the nearly eighty species of classified water-fowl, all are located thus. Some are concealed in weeds and grasses; others, as those of the Avocet, lie carelessly exposed upon the bare dirt.

The uproar of the marshes is almost unbelievable. The vast numbers of feathered inhabitants living here do not preserve the stillness usual to wild life in contact with man. Here they live as they did before the coming of their human enemies, without the restraint of fear. Constant chattering and piping, squawking and honking, the flapping of wings and the impact of meteor-like bodies on the surface of the

water, produce indescribable confusion of sound.

We pass around 10 miles of diking that return to our starting-point. During the trip we see myriads of birds: Pelicans, Geese, Ducks of many kinds, Swans, many varieties of the Snipe and Plover families;; Coots, Cranes, Egrets, Grebes, and others, interesting and uninteresting. Most of these birds are now nesting here, breaking the habits of many generations. A few varieties stay only to rest and feed. Islands are being thrown up in the more isolated places for the use of the more timid birds who will not nest where there is possibility of danger. There are thousands of Pelicans but they still rear their grotesque young on distant islands in Great Salt Lake. There they transport the mud fish, which is their diet, for a hundred miles or more from fresh-water lakes partially digested in their gullets. Many of the species represented in increasing numbers have been threatened with extinction. Egrets, whose beauty of plumage has been the means of great loss in numbers through gentle woman’s love of ornamentation, have secured a new lease of life through the interest of hard-hearted congressmen and senators. Many game-birds, now well endowed with the self-protective instinct, are increasing by Government benefit. Avocet, Curlew, and the like are reproducing here in thousands. A few specimens of Jack-snipe were seen. The same is true of numerous others.

The interesting thing of the refuge is the tameness of nearly all the bird-life there. The knowledge of safety gives the birds an entirely

new aspect. Even the familiar trick of simulating a broken wing or leg to draw attention from the nest is almost lacking. Once or twice a half-hearted attempt at such cajolery is made for our benefit but is soon given up as not worth the effort. Mostly the little fellows sit quietly on their nests, or walk away a few feet, scolding us mildly. One could watch for hours the different bird characteristics. The Grebe children out for a ride on the parent bird’s back; the well-studied pose of the Heron representing himself as a harmless post or bunch of grass to the unwary fish or frog until the lightning-like stroke ends a career; the number of species showing traits not usually ascribed, as the maternal instincts of different males who sit upon the eggs after the female has laid them, and even the rearing of the family by dad while mother gads about, interests us by the unfairness of it all. The idea might spread! We see a representative part of this great project, and we are impressed how much wild life is worth preserving. There is evidence of considerable outlay, but the benefit appears great and maintenance will be negligible. We are glad to learn that several such organisations ore projected throughout the nation or are already in operation. Visitors to this refuge have not been encouraged in the past, partly on account of the great amount of construction, and in greater part to preserve its usefulness as a refuge. It is hoped that it will be possible, upon the completion of proper facilities, to grant privileges as well as to furnish guides to all who care to take this scenic trip.”