The KEA—Progress of Development

Abstract

A NOTICE of the development of a striking change in the habits of a bird may be considered by naturalists interesting enough to justify a brief record in your journal. The Kea (Nestor notabilis) may be seen and heard in certain localities amidst the wild scenery of the Southern Alps in the middle island of New Zealand, for it is not so rare as has been described. This fine bird belongs to one of our indigenous genera, an examination of its structure proves that it shares with the Kaka a claim to a position amongst the Trichoglossinæ or Brush-tongued Parrots; the under side of its thick tongue near the tip is fringed with papillæ, enabling it to collect the sweets of its favourite blossoms. Through how many years has this species been content to range over shrub-covered heights and rock-bound gullies, gathering its subsistence from the nectar of hardy flowers, from the drupes and berries of the dwarfed shrubs that contend with a rigorous climate, and Dress upwards almost to the snow line of our Alpine giants? To these food-resources may be added insects found in the crevices of rocks, beneath the bark of trees, and its aliment not wholly vegetarian, yet such as called forth no display of boldness in order to procure a sufficient supply. This peaceful demeanour was observed under the ascendency of Moaic conservatism. The European has been the means of corrupting the simplicity of its ancient habits; the meat-gallows of the back-country squatters attracted the attention of our mountain-parrots in the winter season. To them they became points of interest in their wanderings, and furnished many a hearty meal torn from the dangling carcass as it swung in the frosty air; neither were the drying sheepskins, stretched on the rails of the stockyard, neglected. The Paneka has been destined to supply the enterprising Kea with a dainty only equalled perhaps by that which the epicurean African cuts warm from his bovine victim—our educated bird now tears his food from the back of the living sheep. From a local paper one learns that, for the last three years the sheep belonging to a settler “in the Wanaka district, (Otago) appeared afflicted with what was thought to be a new kind of disease; neighbours and shepherds were equally at a loss to account for it, having never seen anything of the kind before. The first appearance of this supposed disease is a patch of raw flesh on the loin of the sheep, about the size of a man's hand; from this matter continually runs down the side, taking the wool completely off the part it touches, and in many cases death is the result. At last a shepherd noticed one of the mountain parrots sticking to a sheep and pecking at a sore, and that the animal seemed unable to get rid of its tormentor. The runholder gave directions to his shepherds to keep watch on the parrots when mustering on the high ground; the result has been that during the present season when mustering high upon the ranges near the snow line, they saw several of the birds surrounding a sheep which was freshly bleeding from a small wound in the loin; on other sheep were noticed places where the Kea had begun to attack them, small pieces of wool having been picked out.”