XVI. Sea Hawk.

Than prejudice overcome and original dislike disarmed there is no surer foundation of lasting respect and friendship. Years ago I had become acquainted with the Sea Hawk—first on the windswept sands of Mason Bay, later again on the rook stacks off Stewart Island,—but whether viewed from a distance or comparatively close there was nothing attractive in the big gull's sullen mien and lowering dour demeanour. I heard no good of him either; he became registered in my mind as a dull heavy fellow of no very nice character. This superficial knowledge at a later period developed from negative disapproval into active disapprobation. I disliked his facile slaughter of the inoffensive Kuaka, his pursuit in unfair parties of threes and fours of single Kaka Parrots passing from island to island. Now, however, with a more intimate knowledge of the life of the Sea Hawk, his failings and frailties, his too obvious page 176 slaughter of the innocents, his inexpungeable hatred of man, are condoned as we blink friends' faults. Though I do indeed feel sorrow for the silly little Kuaka and the wandering Parrot, naked of shelter above open strips of sea 'twixt islet and islet, yet it is pain only of the chastened sort, which lawgivers of the Dominion may be supposed to feel for the squatter class, whom season by season they do not cease to devour.

At any rate, whatever his faults may be, the Sea Hawk has reached a perfection of altruism, at least in certain aspects of family life, which we poor mortals can never attain. He has solved difficulties which cannot amongst ourselves be so much as considered, and which must for ever militate against the selfless ideal of communism.

With a fuller comprehension of these birds, respect, I say, grew and matured, until finally I came to have a deep admiration for creatures able to practise in their daily lives that essential part of Christianity—the spirit of the creed—able to reach the highest happiness by service, not selfishness, and, at least in the particular strange tripartite union watched, able to determine that all pleasurable action should be enjoyed collectively.

For many evenings after our encampment on Kotiwhenu, and ere those Sea Hawk, to whom the local rights of residence appertained, had page break

Hen Sea Hawk Sitting.

page break page 177 become aware that ours was a permanent establishment, regularly the great birds arrived at dusk, banging to earth on the tiny clearing with clumsy force and scorn of all concealment. They were monarchs of all they surveyed. On their alighting ground there were few stumps or branches, there was little risk of damage to the splendid pinions of these overlords of the islet. Besides this space by the hut there were other ribbons of open ground frequented by the Sea Hawk. These were the pathways cut by the “birders”; on them, too, gleanings of the Petrel crop were gathered by day as by dusk. At noon even I have met Sea Hawk on these cleared tracks, for each evening on the smallest islet it happens that, in their earthward fall through scrub, numbers of Petrel are hurt or hung up snared by neck or wing or leg. It is in search of these that the pathways of the island are perambulated and patrolled. Petrel know not danger of this sort on the ocean; they experience it only as presage to immediate death, and cannot therefore develop wisdom racially. These unfortunates are the Sea Hawk's daily bread.

So much so indeed has the species become habituated to this manner of replenishing its larder by broad day that, when an hungered, it straggles from the paths and ranges the entire island. A wandering bird thus discovered invites page 178 molestation; he presents a ludicrous spectacle when compelled to walk or rather to trample and roll ahead of his tormentors. The Sea Hawk hates walking, and detests rapid walking; it was always therefore an entertainment to expedite his uneasy gait without, however, forcing him to rise, to note his ungainly progression, the anxiety with which he heard our steps behind, his perturbed glancings from side to side; finally, his relief when at last he could float off into the unobstructed air. Although thus careful of their pinions, and unfitted by the formation of their feet to move or rest except on rock or sand, I have nevertheless noted a female bird, agitated by our presence near her nest, sometimes alight on the unstable tupari-tops.

Sea Hawk chicks become wanderers from an early age. The nest, indeed, is so shallow a structure—often a mere depression in the short wiry turf—that any slight hollow where the parent bird may chance to be sitting can excusably be mistaken by the youngsters for their original home. From early Life the nestlings seem to realise the environment proper to their race, and from the moment of hatching delight in the tide-rip running fiercely beneath them, the break of the seas on naked rock, the sting of the driven spray. Their birthplace is oftenest on the edge of the cliff, and it is only whilst still mere animated page break

Hen Sea Hawk: Male Sitting.

page break page 179 balls of dense grey down that sullenly they will suffer capture. Birdlings only two or three weeks older have to be approached with the utmost circumspection. “I am a part of all that I have seen,” the youthful Sea Hawk seems to feel. Rather than be taken from the rocks they have learned at so early an age to put their trust in, chicks will run almost desperately, as if wild with apprehension, along the more and more steeply sloping crags. They do not seem to be frightened; indeed rather they appear to lack the sense of all other fear in their intense desire of freedom. If rashly followed, all idea of selfs-preservation is abandoned; they precipitate themselves over the rocks into the sea beneath. Like Rebecca at the castle of Torquilstone, who would rather trust her body to the stones below her turret window than her honour to the Templar, so the Sea Hawk fledgeling will prefer death to the desecrating touch of man.

The open spaces of the island were parcelled out amongst its Sea Hawk inhabitants. There was no trespassing or poaching; the demarcations of the various holdings were never transgressed. A general good-fellowship prevailed; the greeting passing between birds in the sky and those on land was cheerful and friendly. During these picturesque salutations the wings are uplifted and fully stretched as if to show the quills of the primaries, page 180 the crest raised high, and the mouth wide opened in a crowing scream. Whether in mid-air or on firm land the attitude alters not. Oftentimes when the thunder of the surf dulled all other sound it was quaint to see a bird high overhead pause in his flight, open his pinions, raise his head, and distend his great beak. We could see but not hear the recognition. The Sea Hawk establishment most persistently watched was perched on the very edge of the cliffs that girdle the islet, cliffs permitting only on one place a landing, rough and awkward even in fair weather, unapproachable otherwise.

Another larger island lay but a few score chains distant, protected also by girdling granite rocks. Immediately above its precipices straggled a long irregular line of daisy-trees, at this season in full bloom, making with the rocks below and the bush above a ribbon border of green, white, and grey.

Two or three yards from the rock face fronting this pleasant prospect the writer watched in all weathers the manners of the Sea Hawk. Sometimes an angry rip ran in the narrow strait, its centremost current crested, combed, and raging like a mountain stream in spate; sometimes, heaved on the rise of a long ground swell, the restless fringe of huge bull kelp would toss its shining skirts like wantons in a dance, then in the downward draw become a roaring slope of page break

Sea Hawk: Preliminaries Of Feast.

page break page 181 gleaming, writhing, slippery brown. There were calm days, too, when the kelp streamed evenly this way and that in the current's tow; there were hours so calm, indeed, that the smaller seaweeds, red and green, floated, each thread apart like long hair combed on a frosty night, when dry leaves resting on the rocks were moved off one by one. I used to try and detect the exact moment when fullest flow was reached, that mysterious instant when the highest mussel cluster was awash, the dryest limpet just submerged, when the channel lay filled full as if welled up from the depths, when for a moment ebb and flow had ceased, and the mighty forces of nature balanced one another in wax and wane.

The weather experienced was perhaps exceptionally fine. Our drinking water, caught from the roof, had to be carefully saved. In sunshine and shade, the sky never fully clouded and never cloudless, the time passed but too quickly.

Thus established on the cliff edge, looking across to Te Puka, downwards on the channel beneath, the woods of Kotiwhenu behind, full of Tuis, Saddlebacks, Robins, and Bellbirds, the domestic economy of the Sea Hawk family could be registered under particularly pleasant conditions.

The preliminary stage in an approach to incubating page 182 birds is usually a brief cursory inspection. If that is borne with philosophic endurance, an advance gradually accomplished diminishes the distance between observer and observed, until sometimes the twain are separated only by a few yards, a few feet, even a few inches. Species will endure the presence of man according to their varying natures, some from intrepidity, as the Caspian Tern and the Falcon, whose fury consumes their fear; some from use and wont, like the Pukeko; some from dull brainedness, like the Penguin; some from the moral support of numbers, like the Shag or Tern; some from absorption in work, like the Warbler and Waxeye; and some, like the Tit and Robin, from trustfulness. Sea Hawks belonged to the first category; because of their fierce nature they soon learnt to endure our presence.

About the spot chosen by the particular birds watched most closely was a small clearing on the cliff. Morticed into chinks of its grey granite grass grew short and sparse. On a sward so small that it might have been entirely covered by half a dozen handkerchiefs was placed the nest, a mere pressure in the turf. Upon first discovery of their breeding quarters two birds became much agitated, wheeling along the cliff edge and swooping overhead. A third bird continued to sit, and only at length left the nest less, I think, from fear than page break

Sea Hawk: Preliminaries Of Feast.

page break page 183 from uncontrollable emotion that had to find vent in action and physical exercise. It, too, joined in the outcry, and the demeanour of all three was so furious that we were glad of the shelter of the tupari-tops beneath which to beat a retreat. After a few minutes we had the pleasure of seeing the biggest bird resettle itself on the two brown eggs. Not long afterwards a second bird took up a position a few feet away from the nest rather lower down the cliff. With its appearance no doubts remained in my mind as to the likelihood of obtaining photographs at close range.

I was satisfied on that head, but much astonished when immediately after the arrival of the second bird a third appeared on the scene. It was a surprise that any pair of mated birds should thus permit a third to perch so near their nesting site. I was the more amazed when after a brief period it became obvious that the two sentinel birds were on terms of unaffected amity. My conclusion then was that the three were married—two hens doubtless and one cock. It was impossible, however, to remain satisfied for any length of tune with this conclusion. The more I saw of the birds, the more I pondered over their relations towards one another, the more I began to doubt. At length I was no longer able to resist the conclusion that the married “pair” page 184 consisted not of two hens and a cock, but of two cocks and a lien.¹

Though each of the three at times sat on the eggs, the largest bird, the hen, was evidently the most eager to do so. There were many minute signs of expectation, too, on the part of the others that she should take upon herself the chief burden

¹ Observations made during three weeks' residence in the late spring of 1923 on an island already mentioned—Te Puka—fully confirmed this view. There my daughter and niece discovered a Sea Hawk's nest, from which the sitting bird—the hen—resolutely refused to budge—refused to budge even when gently pressed with sticks. From this nest when visited by myself next day the hen was gone; only the two males remained in charge. These gentlemen, after much screeching and swooping, at length became reassured. They returned, and finally snuggled down as if incubating—one on the peat near by, where already a saucer-like depression had been worn; the other on the more marked depression, the actual nest, within which lay the two brown eggs. I noticed, however, that the silly creature who had taken the better place was sitting only on one egg; the other lay exposed and uncared for. He had sat there at all not particularly because the eggs lay there, but because there was a more comfortable convenient depression into which to fit himself. No female bird assuredly would have thus treated her clutch. After seeing a great deal of the many Sea Hawks' nests on Te Puka my companions believed that the tripartite nest was the normal condition of wedlock. We left the island, however, when only a single chick had hatched, so that, although strongly leaning to their views, I would not care to state definitely that there were no two-bird marriages at all. I may add that often we used to eat our biscuits on a certain northern headland overlooking a superb view of the west coast of Stewart Island, its promontories, granite cones, and islands, with, farther afield, the towering snow-clad peaks of Westland, and far to sea the Solander rocks. There on that wind-blown top a trio of Sea Hawk used to participate in our frugal meal, and accept with apparent relish such foreign delicacies as apple-cores and apple-peel.

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Sea Hawk Chick About To Be Fed.

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Sea Hawk Chick Being Fed.

page break page 185 of incubation. There were, moreover, but the usual two eggs in the nest—the normal number laid. Had a couple of hens shared the nest there would have been double that number of eggs, or at least more than two. If each had not laid her full complement of eggs—and I have given reasons elsewhere for believing that the extrusion of eggs can be controlled in a very wonderful fashion—not both of them would have laid a single egg.¹

There were airs, too, of particular peculiar proprietorship indulged in by the biggest bird. She was the boldest on guard. It was she who, not content with staving us off the precious eggs, would sometimes assume the offensive, following us with ungainly tramplings into the scrub, harassing our retreat with screams, minatory gesticulations, and on one well-remembered occasion seizing the rearmost man by the slack of his trousers. After a few days not one of us had any doubt but that the trio consisted of one hen and two cocks.

In size and coloration of plumage the males were indistinguishable, but fortunately one of them had the web of one of its feet torn. I could thus discriminate between the two birds, and note with certitude the individuality of each. I could be positive that it was sometimes the bird with the cut web that stood sentinel next to the hen, and that sometimes it was the bird with the entire web. The female, too, besides her considerable advantage in size, was also distinctly marked, the web of each of her feet being torn. These rents resulted probably from struggles with the much smaller but fierce and active Mutton bird. Each of the three Sea Hawk sharing this nest could be thus distinguished at a glance.

Racial rules of conduct are in the long-run based on the tastes and inclinations of the individual. Between the relations of these three units of this particular species and anything in human custom and law there is a great gulf fixed. Amongst birds the sexual appetite is absent for the greater part of the year. Even in respect to those ascribed by the ancients to Venus—the Sparrow and the Dove—both are semi-domesticated. No more than those of poultry are their habits the normal habits of wild birds of the page 188 woods. On the other hand, as Coleridge says of mankind in one of his lyrics—

“All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame”—

inclinations vitally and continuously affecting the manners and conduct of our race are of ephemeral concern to the avian tribes. Exclusive possession of the female as mistress, companion, or nurse is the ideal of man. It is not the ideal of the Sea Hawk.

The union of these three particular birds was by no means unique or even uncommon. On Te Puka, visited for a few hours, but where we were unable to camp because of weather conditions, there existed just another such triplicate household. There, too, were to be seen the normal two eggs, the produce of the single hen. Furthermore, in another volume I had noted and wonderingly commented on the toleration of mated Sea Hawk owning nests ready for eggs towards other members of the breed. I know now that it was the presence of the third individual in the family that had so surprised me, and which for lack of fuller experience had then seemed so incomprehensible.

It was not long before the presence of my camera and myself became not indeed indifferent page break

Sea Howk Greeting A Passing Friend.

page break page 189 to the birds, but endurable. There existed truce, not peace, between us. So resolute, indeed, and steadfast was the hen in her incubation that, when it was necessary to know if the eggs had hatched, the great bird had to be gently displaced with a lengthy pole, always, of course, in such a manner that no hurt came to herself or her brown eggs.

It was not until about a week after our arrival that one of the eggs hatched and a chick appeared, the feeding of which provided one of the most interesting sights witnessed by me in wild nature. The training and care of the chick was not only in itself curious, but brought out all that was best in the parents three. Often only I myself saw what it was impossible that the absent parent or parents, male or female, could witness, a deliberate self-abnegation and sense of fair-play. There was not only a rare and beautiful outward courtesy between the three birds, but a true inward selflessness, a constant practise of the golden rule, “Do as you would be done by.” There was never a thought that by the combination of two the third might, whilst absent, be deprived of participation in what I cannot but believe was the deep joy of feeding the chick. So speaking a testimony to the relationship of the triplice was this act that no excuse is offered for the accompanying mediocre illustrations.

It was always easy to forecast the feast. Becoming page 190 an hungered, the little one grew restless beneath the sheltering feathers, poking out his small head and evincing unmistakable signs of a desire for dinner. If two of the three parents happened to be away, no notice was taken of his wishes by the mothering bird, and then often he would quit his covert and venture forth for a desperate ramble by himself on the cliff edge. If a second parent was about the nest standing sentinel, he would then attempt to seduce it. On no occasion, however, did I see success attend these manoeuvres. I am, in fact, convinced that he was never fed except by the combined action of the three parents.

Not one of the triple alliance ever thought of cornering the chick. It was evident that each bird desired the presence of the other two. Maybe in great degree this pleasure was of an altruistic kind, positively a pleasure in each other's pleasure. Negatively I feel sure, lacking one of the party—could such an event have happened—each of the other two birds would have experienced a sense of disillusion, disappointment, dissatisfaction. When, however, all three old birds were assembled, the chick seemed to know that feeding could no longer be properly postponed. His coaxing and pestering became more and more persistent. At last one of the parents—propinquity seemed to decide the choice—would slowly advance to the page 191 banquet table, a flattish bit of grassy ground strewn with grisly relics of former feasts—skeletons, bones, and curled grey feathers. Always the same site was used, and the chick, if inclined to linger or straggle to less level spots, was stimulated now and again by touches of beak, or lured on by simulated retching. During these preliminaries the conscientious bird immediately in attendance on the chick, advancing still into the open, would now and again pause, turning his or her head towards his or her fellows, as a setter at his point will slowly turn his head to ascertain the position of his master. Again by very slow, almost reverent glancings back and signallings—ghostly beckonings as it were of the minister's hand from the pulpit—the chick is lured forward to the predestined spot.

Although by this time there is an air of grave concern in the expression of each one of the trio, the two furthermost from the chick will nevertheless sometimes loiter and linger, standing about, or one of them even continuing to sit, until the last moment. The entire absence of hurry, indeed, makes conspicuously apparent the utter trust placed by each on the others. Each, whether near the chick or far distant, is perfectly confident that he or she will not be ousted, or slighted, or forgotten. The more distant parents now move forward, for each of them knows that the act of page 192 feeding is about to be consummated, and now usually there is a considerable amount of manipulation and manœuvring required to get the chick into the centre—it becomes the hub, they the spokes. With the three parental beaks almost touching or perhaps actually touching, one or other of the old birds very easily and gently disgorges food, whilst each of the three helps the youngster to scraps. If perchance an osseous morsel is brought up, one parent holds the bone whilst the others strip it of flesh, or a pair of them pulling as if at tug-of-war, the third bird picks clean the fragment. During the whole process the necks of the old Sea Hawks are lowered almost to the ground, stretched forth to the uttermost; and if perchance the food regurgitated is not wholly consumed by the chick, the superfluity is then divided equally and with delicate discrimination—most amiably shared amongst the trio. The movements of the three great birds, equidistant from one another and ranged like the spokes of a wheel, I could never tire of seeing re-enacted. The strangeness of the act had in it something of glamour and magic. I used to find myself—so enthralling was the contemplation of the little drama—drawn as if by sorcery from my seat amongst the tupari; a little more, and though a man and master of a Christian household, I should have joined the Sea Hawk circle.

The second egg was addled. One morning, as I was watching, it exploded with a soft plop beneath the hen who happened to be sitting. Whether she really was unaware of the event or thought it good manners before me to appear not to notice it, I do not know. At any rate, she sat unmoved until the chick, not appreciating the reek or becoming hungry, ventured forth. When rising from her nest the hen moved forth to participate in the feeding processes, the broken egg stuck to her feathers, and finally becoming detached rolled in front of her, and was several times disdainfully touched by her bill. Next morning it was gone.

Although during our intercourse with this household at no time did it become friendly towards us, we on our part could not but sympathise with the happiness of the old birds in their child, even in the small ailments and ills that extended to them as to all living things whatever their rank in life, or creed, or breed.

I have mentioned the torn webbing of the feet. One of the old birds was slightly lame for a time. Another for a few days suffered from a cold in the head, or at any rate from some such nasal distress as amongst us would have necessitated the use of a pocket-handkerchief. Often a drop would gather and hang at the end of the patient creature's neb. When perhaps it became an page 194 offence to propriety, or may have begun to tickle, the bird would blow its nose by plunging its beak into the soft soil. We blow our human noses into our pockets; the Sea Hawk blows his into the earth—we may deem our method the more refined—certainly our noses are too soft and wobbly to dive into the ground, but few, I think, will affirm that it is the more sanitary.

When first I saw the Sea Hawk on the sands of Mason Bay, dour, lowering, commonplace, I then had no expectation whatsoever of finding aught in the bird of good or grace. I was to leave Kotiwhenu awakened to a selflessness in the breed, a magnanimity not often discoverable in man. Gift of a little knowledge had been granted me; a fresh impression, a pregnant hint. Such is the treasure-trove of the field naturalist, his harvest gathered of the wilds—and if to one, why not to all? May it not be that in the future, with thousands devoted to nature study for every one who is so now—may it not be that in such devotion the healing of the nations may be found? Only from nature's realm can a new province be interchanged without offence; only from nature's realm a conquest won without exacerbation. Even as to all living things water is not a source of strife, even as wild herds will lap out of the same stream, as dogs without jealousy will share the same pool, so surely will the nations participate page break

Tuatara Lizard.

page break page 195 without strife in the unravelling of nature's lore; her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace. Creeds may fail, conduct be difficult to adjust in the rival claims of old and new, yet while life lasts, to follow nature in the woods and wilds is “sisterly sweet hand in hand” to woo a mistress virgin to the end—to court a hapxspiness that never knows satiety.