The butchers and the flower eaters

Closeup of sparrowhawk with prey against background of bark

Collared sparrowhawk with prey

The crowd of noisy miners  squabbling right outside my window had me jumping straight out of bed and reaching for my camera.  More than the usual disputes for territory with the “house” little wattlebirds, this had the distinct vibe of a predator in action.  And sure enough there was one of our collared sparrowhawks, perched on a low branch less than 5 metres from my front door, wrapping its laughing gear around what looked like one of the miners.  They weren’t taking the dismemberment of one of their own lying down.  The sparrowhawk stayed very very still while a crowd of miners scolded and divebombed  it. But eventually it was time to do some butchery.

After a certain amount of viscera had been hurled around, the miners obviously decided that Bob wasn’t looking likely to rejoin the flock.  While I was watching, one hold-out had a final swoop – the sparrowhawk ducked and called out repeatedly for moral support.

Sparrowhawk calling for its mate

Calling for moral support

I’m not sure if it was the male (smaller, more bomb-able) or the female (generally chattier) calling for help.  Male and female sparrowhawks really  similar, even though when you see them side by side the females are distinctly larger.

A pair of collared sparrowhawks, showing the female is much larger than the male

Sparrowhawk pair

No chance of comparing sizes on this occasions – calls for help were completely ignored. Eventually this most belligerent miner of the group wandered off to harass some less aggressive passers-by.

I’ve been a vegetarian for over thirty years but this kind of gory scene doesn’t bother me one little bit.

Sparrowhawk with prey

Especially when it’s a noisy miner biting the dust.  I had a look in my files to see if I had any good pictures of miners but nada.  I’m not even that keen on their cousins the more elusive bellbirds – despite the atmospheric calls, like their cousins they’re colonial, driving other bird species out of their patch.  Groups of bell miners can even, somehow, execute the trees they inhabit.

I’ve been a bit surprised at the distaste of lots of bird lovers for scenes of raptor butchery, when I’ve definitely smelt the smoke of barbecues drifting from their backyards.  Where’s the solidarity with other top predators?  Plenty of people seem to be fond of cats.

Thinning out the noisy miners is  not the only environmental service provided by the local birdlife.  The wattlebirds make short work of the window spiders, hovering like hummingbirds and plucking them from the tangled webs, that according to my kids, “make it look like Halloween at our place the whole year round”.  The chooks clean up ticks and fruit fly larvae.  And I captured a juvenile satin bowerbird earlier in the year making a dent in the local caterpillar population, with the help of mum.

Adult female bowerbird feeding juvenile with caterpillar

I don’t mind when the bowerbirds do some tip pruning on my liquidambar tree.

Bowerbird silhouette in the top of a liquidambar tree

But I’m a bit less keen on the scarlet blooms of my “running postman“, few and far between, getting munched, even if that means the local bowerbirds are subscribing, like me, to a plant based diet

Because they’re so famous for their decorative skills, whenever you see male satin bowerbirds collecting pretty stuff, you expect them to be thinking about their bowers.  Like this visitor who I’m pretty sure was sussing out the “bowerbird blue” backyard tennis pole.

But I’m pretty confident that the Kennedia rubicuns flowers this bowerbird was collecting were for snacks, not for interior decor.  How do I know?  Well, some researchers got satin bowerbirds to choose their favourite colour of Froot Loop.  Turns out, even though bowerbirds prefer blue and violet things as decorations in their love-shacks, given a choice of Froot Loop for a snack (not something that happens a lot, admittedly), they’d rather eat red and yellow ones.

Why, you might ask, were scientists trying to goad satin bowerbirds into eating Froot Loops?  Well, it was all about the evolution of preferences for a blue-hued bower.  Researchers were testing whether male bowerbirds evolved to decorate their bowerbirds with blue things because female bowerbirds liked blue snacks (Borgia 1987).  Presumably they came up with this idea in a study with rump steaks, potato wedges and steamed broccoli framed and hung on the walls.

A black male satinbowerbird sitting on a branch looks curiously at the camera

These researchers already had a pretty good idea that they wouldn’t find red Froot Loops in bowers – I know this because of a series of experiments that seem to me to essentially be an interspecies wind-up.  One of these tests involved goading male birds by trashing one half of their bowers and seeing what would happen.  Another, capitalising the “intense dislike for red objects at their bowers”, involved “a clear container over three red objects and quantif[ying]the time for each male to remove the container” and “super-glue[ing] a red square tile to a long screw and fix[ing] the tile into the bower platform and ground below so that it could not be physically removed” (Keagey 2011 1064).  They also recorded the male bower-birds’ come-on lines – their mimicry of other birds – and spied on them to see if they got lucky. I don’t want to perpetuate any stereotypes, but is it a coincidence that the guy running this lab sports the name “Borgia”?

Juvenile satin bowerbird perched in a tree seen in profile with a background of green leaves

Turns out being smart improves your chances of getting lucky (if you’re a male satin bowerbird, anyway) but being very worried about red things in your bower not so much.  Also, bowerbirds are capable of making a clear distinction between decorative items and food.

Somehow this doesn’t seem so odd to me. It’s humans, it seems to me, who don’t seem to be able to adequately categorise their Froot Loops.

A sparrowhawk in flight against a blue sky

References

Jason Keagy, Jean-François Savard, Gerald Borgia (2011) “Complex relationship between multiple measures of cognitive ability and male mating success in satin bowerbirds, Ptilonorhynchus violaceusAnimal Behaviour 81 1063-1070

Gerald Borgia, Ingrid M. Kaatz & Richard Condit (1987) “Flower choice and bower decoration in the satin bowerbird
Ptilonorhynchus violaceus: a test of hypotheses for the evolution of male display” Animal Behaviour, 35, 1129 1139

Matthew Mo (2016) “Diet of the Satin Bowerbird Ptilonorhynchus violaceus in the Illawarra Region, New South Wales, Australia” Corella 40(2)

 

More stories about the sparrowhawks in our backyard

Death and sibling rivalry

Motherhood on a windy day

The battle of the baby birds

Loves and leaves: our sparrowhawks do some nestbuilding

Sex, nests and dogfighting

 

And more about our bowerbirds

The bowerbird bachelors

R2D2 in black and white

Gymnastic bees, virgin fruit and the birds that ate spring

 

Adult female bowerbird feeding juvenile red berry

The one-eyed butcherbird

Butcherbird in tree good eye gleaming 2

We had an unusual visitor this weekend – a cocky grey butcherbird, turning up first in the branches of the Japanese maple that reaches up to our back deck, and then hopping boldly onto the balustrade.

BB profile horizon corrected cropped

Our butcherbird showing off his hooked beak

Butcherbirds are just the kind of generalists – like fellow “corvoids”, magpies and currawongs – that do really well in urban areas.  But we’re rarely had them turn up at our place before.

And this lovely lad (or lass – they look too similar for an amateur like me to distinguish) was notable in another way, too – it had only one fully functioning eye.

Looking side on you could see a glimmer of a right eyeball, but it was sunk back into the feathers of the head – on a front view only his inquiring left eye was visible.

Butcherbird on ground looking at me frontallycrop

Our one-eyed butcherbird

The wounded eye seemed to have healed long ago – this guy was distinctly perky and healthy looking, if a little edgy.  And this was an adult bird – no sign of the brown and buff colours of a juvenile (like this one spotted at Narrabeen Lake a few years ago).  So whether it had been injured as a chick or as an adult, it seems to have been getting along okay for quite some time.

Juvenile grey butcherbird crop long

Juvenile grey butcherbird

In the past, animal rescue organisations assumed that birds with serious injuries to an eye wouldn’t make it if they were released from captivity.  Usually birds found wounded in this way were euthanised.  But in Germany and the US, researchers and birdwatchers have reported hunting birds like owls and eagles surviving for years in the wild – and even successfully breeding and raising chicks – with only one functional eye.

On a first glance, it seems obvious that binocular vision would be important for judging distances when flying.  An early twentieth century ornithologist proposed that “a bird is a wing guided by an eye” but it seems there’s a lot more to eyesight in birds than navigating through the air.

Researchers think that binocular vision is more about being able to see what you’re doing with your beak than getting around on the wing. Birds that have to do tricky things with their bills – cormorants making sure the fins of the fish they’ve just caught are in the right position to slide nicely down their throats, for instance – need to see what they’re doing.  Having your eyes at the front of your head means you’re less likely to spot a predator from behind, but it’s worth it for the tucker.

It was interesting to watch our visitor managing life with a limited visual field.  He could certainly fly, and RB saw him successfully catch something that was scuttling around on the deck.  That said, when we (naughtily) fed him a few pieces of meat, he seemed to struggle a little to get a handle on it.

He was also pretty twitchy, reacting to every sound, looking regularly over his shoulder so he could keep tabs on his surroundings with his good left eye.  Butcherbirds usually dive down on prey from above, and as he looked out for tasty treats below, he kept his head cocked to maximise his vision.  As a someone with only one “good” ear, I recognise the advantages of that head tilt!

Butcherbird facial closeup good

Our one-eyed bird keeping an tabs on surroundings with his one good eye

Our visitor also seemed to understand the possibilities of humans as a resource.  At one point he flew right up to where I was sitting by the balustrade, looked me in the face and “spoke” to me in a mildly demanding way familiar to me from my teenaged childen.  Later on, I went inside, leaving the sliding door was open, just a bit. The butcherbird hopped up to the door,  and after a few moments of hesitation, continued straight through into the house.

Butcherbirds are smart and excellent problem solvers.  They’re also creative, as my colleague, the violinist and composer Hollis Taylor found, when she started analysing their marvellous improvisational music making.  Was our butcherbird visitor just curious, and yearning to see our interior decor?  No matter how clever these guys are, that seems unlikely.

Butcherbird on chair looking at me blind eye visible crop tighter.jpg

I suspect that this guy was looking for friends.  Perhaps some local folks who regularly fed him – maybe in a room with a sliding door, just off a deck?  Did his human buddies take care of him after his eye was injured?  I don’t know but I can say for sure he expected good things from us, and our kind.

BB inside head cocked cropped

Grey butcherbird expecting good things from humans

References

Brown, Matthews (2016) Clever crows: Investigating behaviour and learning in wild
Torresian crows (Corvus orru) and related Cracticids in a suburban environment, Doctoral thesis, Griffith University.

Hegemann, A, Hegemann, ED, Krone, O. (2007) “Successful rehabilitation and release with subsequently brood of a one-eyed Eagle Owl (Bubo bubo)” Berliner und Münchener tierärztliche Wochenschrift 120(5-6):1

Martin, Graham (2017) “What drives bird vision? Bill control and predator detection overshadow flight” Frontiers in Neuroscience 11

Tyrrell,Luke and Fernandez-Jericic, Esteban (2017) “Avian binocular vision: It’s not just about what birds can see, its also about what they can’t” PLOS One, Mar 29.

Reflections of a ground predator

Drawing of Andy bigger

What noise does a chicken make?

Some people might go for the classic “cockadoodle dooo!” of an rooster at the crack of dawn.

But many people probably come up with something like this: “Buck buck buck buck” (here’s a video example).  That’s what chickens sound like to most of us.

In fact, this is a specific type of chicken alarm call.  It means “Ground predator! Watch out!“.   In this video, there’s a cat on the prowl.  However, this call sounds so familiar to us humans, even those of us who are not chicken obsessives, because we are ground predators.  So what we think of as “normal chicken sounds” say less about what chickens normally do, and more about the fact that we’re there, and they’re keeping an eye on us.

Chickens make at more than twenty four different calls (check out some of them on this very interesting video), which are not only referential (“aerial predator” “food” and so on) but are uttered differently depending on who’s listening and what’s going on.  In fact, they can be quite machiavellian, deliberately “lying” (for instance, some males make a food call to attract females when there’s no food to be had – though since chickens can recognise and remember up to 100 individuals, this is not a good long term strategy!)  They are pretty cunning too.  In a recent article in Scientific American K-Lynn Smith and Sarah Zielinski explain how researchers resolved a problem: why do roosters frequently call out a warning about a passing hawk even when this might attract the hawk’s attention and put the rooster himself at risk.  They found that roosters are very strategic.  For instance, they observe that “a male calls more often if he is safe under a bush and his rival is out in the open, at risk of being picked off by a swooping predator. If the rooster is lucky, he will protect his girl, and another guy will suffer the consequences”.

To sum up, chickens are smarter than humans usually think (if not always nice), and humans… well, humans are ground predators.