Encounter with a special robin

ELISABETH M. BROWN

The native Maori name for New Zealand is Aotearoa, or Island of the

Long White (rain) Cloud. Indeed, its native forests are dark and wet.

Mosses, ferns and liverworts crowd the forest floor, tree ferns and

unfamiliar Southern Beech trees tower above. It’s temperate rain

forest, like the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, but with different

plants.

The country is the size of Great Britain, its two main islands

isolated in the southern Pacific after having split from Australia 70

million years ago. Like Hawaii, its isolation has greatly influenced

the selection of animals and plants that grow there.

Native New Zealand ecosystems are dominated by birds. Besides one

bat, three reptiles, and a few frogs, there were no vertebrates

(animals with backbones) other than birds before the Polynesians

arrived.

Walking on a quiet forest trail near Lake Taupo in the North

Island, I began to hear chirps. Suddenly a small grayish bird

appeared very close by on a tree branch, so close I didn’t need my

binoculars.

I froze, not wanting to alarm it, thinking it would fly off any

second. But that didn’t happen. Instead, it fixed me with a bold

stare. I stared back for a long minute, unmoving, although I was

dying to take out the camera. Then it chirped and flew in front of me

to another small tree next to the path, but on the other side. I

turned slowly to be able to watch it. Again it seemed to want only to

stare.

Another minute passed, giving me the chance to memorize the

features of my feathery companion. It was smallish (about 7 inches),

overall grey-brown, with light colored breast, dark glittery eyes and

a narrow pointed beak. In other words, a New Zealand robin.

Finally, with a louder chirp, it launched itself into the air and

flew right by my head, so close I could feel the wind from its wings

as it fluttered past. This time I got the message: “Get out of my

territory. Move on.”

Small and grey, this bird is very unlike our familiar red-breasted

robin. Its feisty attitude is also very unusual for one of our birds.

I suspect this is not a very good technique for a small bird faced

with a feral house cat or a fox. But it works on other birds, and

that’s the key.

According to the New Zealand bird book, other small songbirds

defend their territories in the same way, zigzagging around an

intruder while chirping loudly. It’s a form of mobbing behavior --

when smaller birds fly around and harass larger birds to get them to

fly off.

For a long time, the only intruders into New Zealand forests were

other birds. Aggressive behavior made perfect sense when the giant

flightless moas walked into the forest and blundered into a robin’s

territory. The smaller birds warned them off. Maybe to this little

robin, I was just another moa.