Mating-Season in Australia

[Tame Emu Guy]

Morning! I have non-emu visitors coming shortly, so I am going to miss a valuable Sunday-morning auditing session -- but stepping out the back door, I hear a female talking to a male to the North East. Could it be Felicity?

Back soon.

Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

I'll double back to the Jane Goodall thing, E.H.

Guesses, theories, approximations, unprovable data. Semi-tested theses piling up like dishes in the sink. Wonderful!

We are undercarriage-down-and-locked-on-final-approach, readers – but I have a slew of data for you. So, deep breath . . .

visitors are gold, but I missed a great chance for observation this morning. Sunday mornings are premium: no sound of gum-harvesters across the river; perhaps no vehicle passing on the road above until nine; usually no sound of tractors or the like. Although I wasn’t ‘officially’ observing/auditing this morning, I was out in the house-clearing at dawn (with coffee).

Fabulous, readers! Just exquisite! There was a female vocalising just beyond the fig tree. That would have been Greedy. I briefly heard the South West female – more on that later. I heard a female calling to the North West, and males replying.

Could it have been Felicity? Could it be that the two-year-old males and the missed-the-breeding-boat birds like Mohawk and Felicity are still scrabbling in the very last days of the season to get into the season? Perhaps even practising – at least in the case of the two-year-olds?

About a half an hour after first light, three wild birds just walked up the track by the fig tree, and made themselves right at home. I was astounded. Here’s one that has come right up to the back door – behaviour that you’ll remember, readers, we haven’t seen since the beginning of the season – and helped itself to Greedy’s wheat:



Isn't it a lovely young bird? It's hard not think 'gawky adolescent.'

So, is this mating-season behaviour? Or (pity that we’re undercarriage-down-and-locked . . . ), is it the first flush of post-mating-season movement? Here is the blossom on the early-plum tree:




When I was a kid, we had a joke about all the Big-Belt-Buckle cowboys that used to appear for the three days of the Annual Agricultural Show – where were they the rest of the time? We had a theory that they kept them in a big freezer out the back. That is, the where-are-all-those-emus-some-times? problem remains unresolved.

What I do suggest is that the study of emu feathers on fence barbs is a key to it all. Note that the last four observations have been:

three birds on Coffey’s paddock that dashed fence-ward toward my place, a male and chick likewise crossing into my place, and two more sightings at a place we’re going to call the ‘top corner.’

[The fences are all North-South and East-West, readers. The corridor is part of the big-once-upon-a-time swamp. The swamp lies/lay East-West – across the N.-S. fence between my place and Coffey’s. The spot where we crossed the fence to view the three birds out in the paddock – by the storm-blasted swamp gum – is a hundred yards from the swamp, up the hill a little. That’s where the mini-block of young gums and lush grass is – where the male and chick came from yesterday. Well, a hundred yards further up is the ‘T-intersection’ that is the South side of both properties and the common fence: one of the three of the parts of the T is Coffey’s front fence; the second is my front fence; the third is the fence between us. It’s obviously a spot of interest to both us and the emus: you're an emu in ‘hungry’ bush; you cross the fence; you're in the lush grass fifty feet away.]

That is, in each case there’s a relationship between eating well and crossing fences.

Anyway, no sooner had the three wild birds arrived than I heard more wild birds, males, in the bush down behind the fig tree. At that point, we had G. and F. and the three interlopers and these birds down the back and the S.W. female and B.E. all on the map.

I wonder . . .

it would be most helpful to keep a diary, especially of physical attributes. Ordinary People are perfectly entitled to say that All Emus Look The Same, but we know that they are quite discernible. My point here, readers – opinions, please – is that I think I can pick birds that are genetic siblings (which tells us all sorts of other things, but we’ll come back to that . . . ). Remember ‘The Twins’ at the beginning of the season? They looked so very much alike.

Well, this group (from an unfortunately hasty observation) of three this morning comprised an older bird, probably male (judging by the non-reaction of the two females present), and two two-year-olds that I think were genetic siblings: their salt-and-pepper feather patterns/overall markings were remarkably similar.

Okay, I’ll post this chunk, and move on to the next.

Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

The South-West Female:

What about this, guys: I throw down food for the alpha female here a half an hour before dawn. (Consult schedule: alpha bird is who today? wa ha ha . . . ). Then I head off in the direction of the S.W. Female – it’s only about a half a mile. The bird here will undertake ‘territory-marking booms’ (which I think are different to vocal reconnaissances) about a half an hour later.

Then, I could be ‘over her side’ when my bird calls, and I could hear her answer. Perhaps this would provide a really good auditing of pre-dawn/dawn calls: hopefully I’d hear not only her, but the calls of other nearby birds. The calls that I heard on the morning that I walked to the river while hitching to town constituted one of the best bits of data we’ve gained. If nothing else, it would give us leverage in discussing the ‘breeding-pairs stake out a twenty-mile-square territory.’ Do they? Our thumbnail statistics suggest a density three or four times as great. I’d be thrilled if I heard a bird on the far side of the S.W. Female.

If there were a team of BYC people here, we could all leave the house at about 4:00 a.m. – goodness, isn’t Supreme Emu a serious emu? – head in different directions, and return later to pool our data.

Next, some thoughts from a farmer whom I haven’t mentioned yet. She owns one of the half dozen most beautiful (and secluded) properties in Western Australia, and I count myself privileged to be able to visit her place. Moreover, her father is ninety-two years old, and as mentally sharp as anyone you’ll meet.

She reckons that (a) a male emu will ‘sacrifice’ one or two chicks in a tight spot – like Supreme Emu stumbling upon his roosting-spot at dusk. We may question the phrasing of this: practically, it’s the same as: the male will ‘move and regroup,’ and the devil take the hindmost.

The ‘b’ thing is that, she reckons, males will ‘collect’ ‘spare’ chicks they find, and raise them. Both these notions are worth discussion, I reckon. I’ve seen Youtube footage of a male bird in a wildlife park that had about two dozen young chicks in his mob. No information is provided about how he acquired them all – he surely didn’t incubate twenty-four eggs – but he did seem to be parenting them all.
This ties in with a thought I’ve waiting to express:

guys, we should be able to do a thumbnail arithmetic on the attrition rate of chicks – and that’s why I asked for help to clarify how old chicks are when dad dumps them. Remember the five chicks that used to pass the house in parade formation? They were surely a year old – too big to be much less. What about the chick yesterday? It must be a year old. Why? Well, it’s not newly-hatched – it’s three feet tall; but it’s not a two-year-old – it’s only three feet tall.

So, firstly, better age-judging techniques, then a study of attrition rate. Eric the Emu turned up with three chicks – how many did he hatch? The male that brought the chick to the fig tree – did he only hatch the one. Peter Parent hatched at least eight chicks – and he’s lost two within ten days.

All my bird-watching henceforth will be of a higher quality: the parent-plus-one-older-chick duo is not uncommon.
Here are some random photos before I jump to the next post:


I love these fence posts -- solid jarrah (harwood) too.


Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

E.H., you have been so attentive, and you mentioned liking the terrain:
The three photos are thirds of a panorama taken from a high point on Coffey’s place, looking back to the high point on mine. It’s the third photo that is relevant. I’ll meet you at the bottom:






Our landmark is the electricity right of way, the 'cut' through the gums. The shadow on the left is where I saw the chick up close. At the left hand end is the Top Corner. Tucked away on the right of the right of way is the corridor. You can just see a high point on the horizon, to the right of the r.o.w. That's across the road, and our trip to the National Park only actually took us about three miles beyond that point -- that's where the second wedge-tailed eagle was the day we went to the N.P. Oudman's is just over that hight point, to the right. 99% of the land between that point and the ocean is the Big Green. My mate Ken can drive you around in there for a fortnight, and you'd never be on the same track twice.

Overall, the action of the last four months (!) has been within about a four-mile-square area; and it delights me that you all now know your way around so well: the house-clearing, the river, Oudman’s, the National Park, the corridor, Coffey’s paddock, the Top Corner.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Lastly, the notion of a ‘mosaic of environments.’ If the shots will bear enlargement, scan the ‘back edges’ of the first two thirds of the vista. If we ask Mrs. Coffey very very nicely, she might let me roam around the ‘mosaic’ next year. For example, behind the dam in the middle shot is a strip of green. Well, there’s another big paddock around the corner there, and the far corner of that paddock is only about a hundred yards from the National Park by the river. Remember the two females vocalising down by the river? They were just just outside the fence at that far bottom corner. We could learn a lot if we patiently plodded around the different patches of the mosaic.

Indeed, if anyone posts thanks for letting us roam her property, I’ll pass them on.

Such permission is not lightly given nowadays.

I’m going to buy her some chocolate. There is a great deal to see in that ‘swamp paddock’ apart from the wild emus. In fact . . . it’s exquisite.

Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Hmmm . . .

I just realised that I have overlooked a bit of data:

we have two multiple-audited females ‘holding’ territories hard by here – South West Female, and North East Female. Okay – but I’d forgotten for the second about the female that I heard on the way down to the river. It’s South East from here. My point, guys, is that Felicity came back from several days away, and this morning I suspected that Felicity had left Greedy here, and temporarily gone to talk to males over . . . to the North West – well, guys, that’s the last available spot. I’d forgotten about the on-the-way-to-the-river female. True, we have only one report of her; but it’s not so crazy to assume that she’s still over there.

And if we do that, assume the fact of South East Female, there's just the one compass-point from which we have not had any report – North East.

Meanwhile, Felicity is at a loose end, and perhaps trying to attract males to an area that she shares with another female is a mite complicated. And . . . she would know if there was a ‘slot’ vacant in the map – North East. We won’t lose any sleep over this one, but I had forgotten that we have one datum from the ‘South East Female.’

Before S.E. goes beddy byes himself, one more thing I’ve forgotten to post:

Hey guys, do you think that nearby females can tell that the females calling from this territory are different females on different mornings? Think about it. It’s an odd odd thing: the equation is that one female holds one territory. However, because of the Tame Bird Thing going on here, we have the singular reality of two birds calling alternately from the one location -- ???

Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

South West Female

By the time it was light enough to read a newspaper headline, I was kneeling on my camper’s mat, a half a mile to the South West of the house-clearing, auditing wild emus.

Not a success, readers, but a good start: there is a female almost exactly – done to about two hundred yards – from where I have said I’ve heard S.W.F. answering my birds – but let’s back up:

it’s not as death-defying as it sounds. I’m used to leaving the farm-house well before dawn. It wasn’t too cold – though I was dressed like the Michelin Man. Anyone familiar with the bush knows that there’s always more light than there seems. You just need to let your eyes adjust. Moreover, I was travelling on the electricity right-of-way, open ground, and pretty even. One fence to negotiate.
So, I stepped into the darkness well before first light, and started enjoyed myself from the outset. Firstly, to my surprise, only one of the two females here was vocalising – not the territorial exchanges I’m interested in, but the normal pre-dawn/dawn strings of booms. I spent ten minutes listening, just to be sure:

Emu Number One: a female, fifty yards into the gums on the South West side. Felicity, I think.
Emu Number Two: a male that uttered a couple of quiet and brief replies to the female’s calls. Not more than forty or fifty yards from the female.
Emu Number Three: Boy Emu: I smelt him!

Then, I went a couple of hundred yards further, unrolled my camper’s mat, and lay in the dark for ten minutes. Kurrawongs were calling. Emu Number One was quietly and repeatedly calling in short ‘strings.’ (Felicity’s strings of calls are usually shorter. That’s why I think it was her.)

Then, I walked the half mile to a spot that I had figured is just short of S.W.F.’s actual location (and I’d be already on her turf). There, I rolled out my mat, opened a little bottle of coffee, and sat and listened – pretty cool, guys! By this time, it was light enough to see the silhouettes of the kookaburras sitting on the electricity pole in front of me. Several had occupied the cross-bar, and wouldn’t let their mate on. It flew around in a frustrated circle, and alighted on a wire, where I could see it working hard – its tail going up and down – to keep its balance.

Almost immediately, I heard two more emus:

Emu Number Four: male, North West of my position, called quietly and briefly and close; but the direction is a little hard to pin. A vector of about sixty degrees is about right, at a distance of -- ?? plus or minus a hundred yards.
Emu Number Five: as above, but South West of my position.

Then I heard a female:

Emu Number Six: female. Quiet and brief – just a ‘gluk’ or two, actually, but definitely female.

At that point, readers, I had – in theory – to wait until the greedy guts birds at my place had finished the half ration I’d left on the ground, and undertake their morning territorial booms.
It didn’t happen, though. I heard all three emus again, briefly. I watched early morning kangaroos boxing, and saw and heard a range of other birds. Eventually, though, I was too cold and tired, and I headed back . . . and saw a really wild emu standing a hundred yards from the house.

Could it be that my birds don’t bother with the territorial calls if there are wild males to schmooze with? We might try again next Sunday. Perhaps I just came back too early.

Here are a couple of pictures. Yesterday, near the Top Corner, I realised that there’s a patch of sand by the fence. Can anyone figure out what the second photo is of? Be patient. It's a hard one.






Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Greedy and Felicity are both here.
B.E. is e.p.h. one!! He looks tired but well. I have, of course, no interest. I am maintaining a strict professional detachment.

(Wheeee!! Chicks!!!!!!)


This track is incomplete but excellent.
Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

S.E. needs advice:

there’s a fly in the ointment:

Boy Emu has been eating wheat with Greedy, here at the side of the house – you’ve seen photos of the birds just outside the carport – for well over a year. So, contrary to what I wrote earlier, just ignoring him and the chicks, and expecting them to just wander off, won’t work.

[I apologise for my sloppy prose and thinking of late. I have been most unwell, and am scheduled for more surgery in nine days, and have been just sort of . . . hanging in there. I will be convalescent through the whole thing, but that shouldn't be a major problem.]

So, I ask for the opinions of those experienced with captive birds:

there’s a lovely meadow about two hundred yards from B.E.’s nest – about two fifty yards on foot. Suppose . . . suppose . . . from Day One of post-nesting-B.E.-plus-chicks movement, I start laying a generous trail of wheat along that two-hundred-and-fifty yard track (across the clearing and through a strip of gums) down to the meadow, where there is water and pasture – and wheat provided.

Suppose I simultaneously feed G. and F. here by the house – in fact, a little down the back, by the fig tree, to get some ‘separation.’

Do you think that if, over two or three weeks, I patiently strew wheat according to plan (which will also keep B.E. and chicks away from arriving vehicles etc.), I can get B.E. re-acculturated?

This is not a rhetorical question. Would all readers with any practical experience (and hey! everyone else) please weigh in here.

There are already five birds acculturated to the house-clearing (though, thankfully, they are rarely all here together). If Felicity acquires a mate, that’ll be six. If B.E. introduces four or five chicks to the regular feedings by the house, the clearing will be a madhouse!

Supreme Emu

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Found chick
as fast as I can ty-pe
walking up to check in be
saw small small emu chick running nearby
confused: grab chick -- man smell -- or go to see if be is up and about with a clutch
wasn't yesterday at fouir

checked be: as normal

ran back, couldn't find chick
sat listened
chick peeping -- little peeps, not like aisle five and aisle seven
caught chick
took chick to be
seemed oblivious
approached to about thirty feet -- closer than ever before
released chick
chick ran past, ten feet away, be ignored chick, chick ignored be

sup emu crashing about noisily in litter, caught chick again -- this one is not exhaustedk, fairly fast
took chick back, much closer this time
chick peeped, be lifted head and looked sharply around, could obviously hear chick
s e moved a little closer
hestitanly released chick
chick made bee-line to b e
be stood up
hissed -- quite sure he was gonna kill the chick
then . . . click -- parenting mode
wow!! wow!! b e stood, nuzzling chick -- six or seven eggs visible

no open shell

it's not be's chick. where has it come from? has there been another nesting male hard by all this time?

s e exhausted. Gotta eat a little.
ran get binos and stuff
came back: b e sitting again, chick standing at his shoulder, seems to have been accepted
will go check
I think think thinkk I can hear ANOTHER chick calling
b e and s e thoroughly confused

se