The news magazine of the South Pacific · since 1930

Pacific Islands Monthly, 1 September 1948Vol. XIX, No. 2

Pacific Nature Notes

p. 47 · Read in the full issue

Written for "PIM" by Charles Barrett, FRZS

Communications from Nature students in the Pacific Islands are welcomed by our contributor—Mr.

Charles Barrett, “Maralena,” Mays bury Avenue, Elsternwick S 4, Victoria.

The White Tern

FAIRY tern would be a fitting name for Gygis alba, were it not “preoccupied” by another of the sea-swallows, almost as dainty as the white tern but not such a lovely bird. All who are familiar with the Gygia in its haunts will agree with me that, among living creatures of the Pacific, it is unrivalled for grace and delicate beauty—such a bird as the poet may have seen when gazing through his magic casement over a faery sea.

An easy subject for the nature photo grapher, when brooding its egg, resting precariously on a horizontal branch or a rock, the snow-white bird, with black eyes and beak and blue or blue-black feet, has been “snapped” hundreds of times, but seldom successfully. The best of the many photographs I have seen was taken by John Ramsay on Norfolk Island.

I notice that Dr. Ernst Mayr calls Gygis alba “fairy tern,” in his book on Birds of the South-west Pacific; but that name was given to Sterna neiris many years ago and remains in general use for the little white-faced bird which ranges from Broome, Western Australia, round Leeu wm and along the southern coast of Aus tralia to Tasmania and New Zealand. It also occurs off the coasts of New Cale donia.

The white tern enjovs a wide range: from isles to the east of Brazil to Ascen sion, m the Indian Ocean, Malaya, and throughout the South-west Pacific. My first glimnse of Gygis was gained near Cocos-Keeling, where the “Emden” met Tl *opic birds soaring high in the blue looked as ethereal as snowy plumaged terns fishing near the shore.

Charles Darwin, during the voyage of the “Beagle,” more than a century ago was cheered by the sight of white terns, and he wrote a description of them in his famous Journal. Many another natural ist has tried his hand at description of these sea swallows, whose beauty cannot be captured in a net of words.

Actually there are two kinds of Gygis, one being known as G. Candida, or G. alba Candida, if one must use trinomials (which are a fetish of present day zoolo gists, though most field naturalists favour the good old-fashioned nomenclature) Some day the splitters may get busv among the terns, and discover that there are numerous sub-species of Gygis. They have already done this with the common landrail, making geographical varieties on a generous, scale.

Fireflies

A FEW dozen fireflies, collected some where on the Lower Fly River, Papua, were submitted to an ento mologist who specialises in beetles. Using a powerful pocket lens, he examined the insects as calmly as if they were common everyday beetles, and not elfin lights of the tropics.

“Probably related to Luciola flavicollis of North Queensland,” my learned friend announced. “Sorry to disappoint you; but your Malacoderms are unlikely to be new to science.”

Well, I had the memory of a tropic night, with hosts of fireflies flashing their fairy lights among coconut palms black against the sky. A familiar spectacle that custom cannot stale. Once in a lifetime, if lucky, one may witness such a spectacle as that observed in Borneo by Robert Shelford, and vividly described by him: a vast number of fireflies flashing simultaneously—a sudden rain of sparks darkness for a minute, then the flashing

in synchronism again for several seconds.

This phenomenon has been observed in the Philippines and several other coun tries, including North America and Eastern Siberia. The beetles assemble in tens of thousands; sometimes there may be a million or more, and, shining their emn lights in unison, they provide one of the strangest and most beautiful sights in Wild Nature’s realm.

On a moonless night, losing the track through a big patch of jungle, I captured about a score of fireflies in my net—l had been butterfly hunting—and their flashes provided sufficient light to enable me to find the track again. Of course, the net was held close to the ground. The beetles deserved a reward; so, instead of being dumped into a killing-bottle, they were given freedom and flew away into the darkness, flashing their tiny lamps.

All the Malocoderms—beetles with rather soft integuments—are not lamp bearers; only the true fireflies and glow worms emit phosphorescent light, and they are replaced, by the systematist, in a sub-family, called Lamprides. During the daytime, when they rest among foliage and don’t shine their lights, fire flies remain unseen, unless you look closely for small brown beetles which the collector of pretty insects would re gard with cqntempt. Pinned in a cabinet drawer, their lights extinct forever, they look dowdy and uninteresting—these little creatures which, living, break up the jungle darkness with fairy lights.

The Goura Pigeon

WRITING from Port Moresby, a reader who takes a keen interest in wild life, from birdwing butterflies to birds of paradise, tells me that he is leaving for the Kerema district, home of the goura pigeon. On his return he may send me some notes on these birds, which have the misfortune to possess beautiful crests, coveted by the plume trade.

Thousands, before the era of protection, were shot for the sake of their coronets.

There are several species of crowned, or goura pigeons, and they are among the handsomest of New Guinea birds, ranking next to the birds of paradise.

The few I have seen alive were delight ful to watch, as they opened and closed their crests of bluish-grey plumes as daintily and demurely as a debutante opens and shuts her fan of ivory “feathers.”

Goura pigeons are good tucker for natives, but most Europeans who have eaten the white flesh have found it very dry. Being a bird lover, I have never killed a goura for food, so can offer no opinion of my own as to the quality of the crowned pigeon’s flesh. Often enough, members of scientific expeditions have been obliged to take heavy toll of pigeons, particularly the gouras, because they afford the only fresh meat obtainable in the jungle. This was the case with the British Ornithologists’ Union Epedi tion into Dutch New Guinea in 1910. It is worth noting that a large percentage of the gouras shot were infected with small red parasites, similar to, if not identical with, the kind that causes “scrub Itch.” These birds belonged to the species known as Sclater’s goura; doubtless the Victoria goura of Papua is not free from the horrible parasites.

Feeding chiefly upon fruits, crowned pigeons vary their menu with small crabs and shellfish which they find on river banks. Being as large as a good sized domestic fowl, they need plenty of food, and do a deal of pecking around, getting fallen fruit on the jungle floor and extras by the waterside.