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Post by another specialist on Jun 9, 2005 18:49:34 GMT
Piopio, the New Zealand Thrush  Turnagra capensis by Walter Lawry Buller There is a peculiar charm about the New Zealand forest in the early morning; for shortly after daylight a number of birds of various kinds join their voices in a wild jubilee of song, which, generally speaking is of very short duration. This was the morning concert to which Captain Cook referred in such terms of enthusiasm; and the woods of Queen Charlotte's Sound, where his ship lay at anchor, are no exception to the general rule. In illustration of this, I take the following from an entry in one of my notebooks: 'Tuesday, 5 a.m. - At this moment the wooded valley of the Mangaone, in which we have been camped for the night, is ringing with delightful music. It is somewhat difficult to distinguish the performers amidst the general chorus of voices. The silvery notes of the Bellbird, the bolder notes of the Tui, the loud continuous strain of the native Robin, the joyous chirping of a flock of Whiteheads, and the whistling cry of the Piopio - all these voices of the forest are blended in wild harmony. And the music is occasionally varied by the harsh scream of a Kaka passing overhead, or the noisy chattering of Parakeets on a neighbouring tree, and at regular intervals the far off cry of the Long-tailed Cuckoo and the whistling call of its bronze-winged congener; while on every hand may be heard the soft trilling notes of Myiomoira toitoi.' For more than an hour after this concert had ceased, and the sylvan choristers had dispersed in search of their daily food, one species continued to enliven the valley with his musical notes. This bird was the Piopio, or New Zealand Thrush, the subject of the present article, and unquestionably the best of our native songsters. His song consists of five distinct bars, each of which is repeated six or seven times in succession; but he often stops abruptly in his overture to introduce a variety of other notes, one of which is a peculiar rattling sound, accompanied by the spreading of the tail, and apparently expressive of ecstasy. Some of the notes are scarcely distinguishable from those of the Yellowhead; and I am inclined to think the bird is endowed with mocking powers. The ordinary note, however, of the Piopio, whence it derives its name, is a short, sharp whistling cry, quickly repeated. It was when I obtained a caged Piopio that I first became acquainted with its superior vocal powers. In 1866 I purchased one for a guinea from a settler in Wellington, in whose possession it had been for a whole year. Although an adult bird when taken, it appeared to have become perfectly reconciled to confinement; but on being placed in a new cage it made strenuous assaults on the wire bars, and persevered until the feathers surrounding its beak were rubbed off and a raw wound exposed. It then desisted for several days; but when the abraded part had fairly healed, it renewed the attempt, and with such determined effort that the fore part of the head was completely disfigured, and the life of the bird endangered. On being removed, however, to a spacious compartment of the aviary, it immediately became reconciled to its condition, made no efforts to escape, and for a period of fifteen months (when it came to an untimely end) it continued to exhibit the contentment and sprightliness of a bird in a state of nature. I observed that this bird was always most lively during or immediately preceding a shower of rain. He often astonished me with the power and variety of his notes. Commencing sometimes with the loud strains of the Thrush, he would suddenly change his song to a low flute note of exquisite sweetness; and then abruptly stopping, would give vent to a loud rasping cry, as if mimicking a pair of Australian magpies confined in the same aviary. During the early morning he emitted at intervals a short flute note, and when alarmed or startled uttered a sharp repeated whistle. This caged bird was generally fed on dry pulse or grain; but he also evinced a great liking for cooked potato and raw meat of all kinds; in fact he appeared to be omnivorous, readily devouring earthworms, insects of all kinds, fruits, berries, green herbs, &c. He was supplied daily with a dish of fresh water, and was accustomed to bathe in it with evident delight. At one time he occupied the same division of the aviary with a pair of Australian Ring-Doves which had commenced to breed. The Doves were allowed to bring up their first brood in peace; but when the hen bird began to build a second time, she was closely watched by the Piopio, and immediately the first egg was deposited he darted upon the nest and devoured it. The innocent little Ring-Dove continued to lay on in spite of repeated robbery, and had at length to be placed beyond the reach of her persecutor. During the day the Piopio was unceasingly active and lively; at night he slept on a perch, resting one leg, and with the plumage puffed out into the form of a perfectly round ball, the circular outline broken only by the projecting extremities of the wings and tail. Every sound seem to attract his notice, and he betrayed an inquisitiveness of disposition which in the end proved fatal; for having inserted his prying head through an open chink in the partition, it was seized and torn off by a vicious Sparrow-Hawk in the adjoining compartment of the aviary. In the wild state this species subsists chiefly on insects, worms and berries. I have shot it on the ground in the act of grubbing with its bill among the dry leaves and other forest debris. Its flight is short and rapid. It haunts the undergrowth of the forest, darting from tree to tree, and occasionally descending to the ground, but rarely performing any long passage on the wing. It is very nimble in its movements; and when attempting on one occasion to catch one of these birds with an almost invisible horsehair noose, it repeatedly darted right through the snare, and defeated every effort to entrap it. Sir James Hector informs me that, during his exploration of the West Coast in the years 1862-63, he found it very abundant, and on one occasion counted no less than forty in the immediate vicinity of his camp. They were very tame, sometimes hopping up to the very door of his tent to pick up crumbs; and he noticed that the camp dogs were making sad havoc among them. He is of the opinion that within a few years this species would also be numbered among the extinct ones. Mr Potts, who studied this bird pretty closely in Wetland, states that the nest is generally found among the thick foliage of the Tutu, Coriara ruscifolia, but sometimes in Karamu or Manuka, that it is sometimes finished off with soft tree-fern down as lining, and that it usually contains two eggs; and he is of the opinion that the bird breeds twice in the season.  www.nzbirds.com/Piopio.html
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Post by another specialist on Jan 2, 2007 15:47:03 GMT
Piopio Confusing names Neither the English nor the scientific name of the Piopio Turnagra capensis ( Sparrman, 1787) is appropriate. The bird is often referred to as the New Zealand Thrush. It bears, however, no relationship whatsoever to the thrushes. This name seems to have been given by an early, homesick naturalist. Or maybe less romantically, by someone who tried to place all new birds into known groups. Several other New Zealand bird names inappropriately refer to European species, such as the New Zealand wrens. The scientific name capensis, meaning 'from the Cape', is equally confusing. The Swedish naturalist Anders Sparrman, by invitation of Johann and Georg Forster, had sailed with Captain Cook on his second voyage to New Zealand. When Sparrman returned to his home in the Cape Province, South Africa, he did not remember all localities where the birds in his collection had been shot. Apparently he was under the impression that the Piopio came from somewhere in South Africa. www.naturalis.nl/300pearls/ |
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Post by another specialist on Jan 2, 2007 15:48:46 GMT
Two subspecies At the time of its discovery, the species was quite common on South Island and in the southern parts of North Island, where it lived both on the coastal plains and in the mountains. The second director of the National Museum of Natural History, Hermann Schlegel, recognized that the birds from North Island differed from those of South Island, particularly in the breast, which is more heavily streaked in the North Island birds. In 1866, he described this Piopio as a separate species, Otagan tanagra. Nowadays the North and South Island forms are considered two different subspecies of the Piopio. The Piopio was a tame and confiding bird, which did not seem to be disturbed by human presence. However, as with so many endemic New Zealand birds, the introduction of dogs and cats led to its disappearance. The North Island race became extinct about 20 years after it had been described. Around the turn of the century the South Island Piopio too, had practically vanished, though it managed to linger on until at least 1947. It has not been seen since. www.naturalis.nl/300pearls/ |
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Post by another specialist on Jan 2, 2007 16:20:14 GMT
Piopio or New Zealand Thrush Turnagra capensis turnagra (Schlegel, 1865)  RMNH 89869: adult. Northern Island, New Zealand, 1846. Aqcuired: 1870. Holotype, Otagon tanagra Schlegel, 1865.  RMNH 110.054: female. Northern Island, New Zealand, 1871.  RMNH 110.055: female. Northern Island, New Zealand, 1870. Inappropriate name Neither the English nor the scientific name of the Piopio is appropriate. The bird is often referred to as the New Zealand Thrush. However it bears no relationship whatsoever with the thrushes. This name seems to have been given by an early, homesick naturalist or, somewhat less romantic, by someone who tried to place all new birds in known groups. Other New Zealand birdnames too often injustly refer to European species, such as the New Zealand Bush Wren Xenicus longipes. The scientific name capensis, meaning “from the Cape”, is equally confusing. The Swedish naturalist Anders Sparrman, on the invitation of Johann and Georg Forster, sailed with Captain Cook on his second voyage to New Zealand. When Sparrman returned to his home in the Cape Province, South Africa, he did not remember all localities where the birds in his collection had been shot. Apparently he was under the impression that the Piopio came from somewhere in South Africa. At the time of its discovery, the species was quite common on South Island and in the southern parts of North Island, where it lived both on the coastal plains and in the mountains. The second director of the Leiden Museum, Hermann Schlegel, recognized that the birds from North Island differed from those of South Island, particularly in the breast, which is more heavily streaked in the North Island birds. In 1865 he described this Piopio as a separate species. Nowadays the North and South Island forms are generally considered two different subspecies of the Piopio. The Piopio was a tame and confiding bird, which did not seem to be disturbed by human presence. However, as with so many endemic New Zealand birds, the introduction of dogs and cats led to its disappearance. The North Island race became extinct about 35 years after it had been described, although there were unconfirmed reports until 1955. Around the turn of the century the South Island Piopio too had practically vanished, but it seemed to have managed to linger on until 1963. It has not been seen since. Museum specimens The Leiden Museum possesses three specimens of the northern subspecies (among which the holotype, the skin used in Schlegel's description) and six of the South Island Piopio. ip30.eti.uva.nl/naturalis/detail.php?lang=uk&id=34 |
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Post by another specialist on Jan 2, 2007 16:33:35 GMT
Turnagra tanagra Common Name/s NORTH ISLAND PIOPIO (E) Species Authority (Schlegel, 1865) Taxonomic Notes The taxon was traditionally considered conspecific with the South Island form, T. capensis, but recent work has shown it to be distinct. Red List Category & Criteria EX ver 3.1 (2001) Year Assessed 2004 Assessor/s BirdLife International Evaluator/s Stattersfield, A. (BirdLife International Red List Authority) & Brooks, T. (Conservation International) Justification North Island Piopio Turnagra tanagra was endemic to the North Island, New Zealand. Buller described them as common in the 1870s, but there were few specimens ever collected (specimens are only known to exist in Chicago, Tring, Philadelphia and Wellington), the last being from 1900. Occasional sight records persisted until 1955. Presumably both habitat destruction and direct predation by people, cats and rats caused the species' extinction. Taxonomy The taxon was traditionally considered conspecific with the South Island form, T. capensis, but recent work has shown it to be distinct. History 1988 - Extinct (BirdLife International 2004) 1994 - Extinct (BirdLife International 2004) 2000 - Extinct (BirdLife International 2000) Range Turnagra tanagra was endemic to the North Island, New Zealand1. Buller described them as common in the 1870s, but there were few specimens ever collected (specimens are only known to exist in Chicago, Tring, Philadelphia and Wellington), the last being from 19001. Occasional sight records persisted until 19553. Presumably both habitat destruction and direct predation by people, cats and rats caused the species's extinction1. www.iucnredlist.org/search/details.php/40154/all |
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Post by Melanie on Jul 12, 2008 21:35:40 GMT
Fam.TURNAGRIDÆ
Turnagra Hectori. (North-Island Thrush.)
Otagon tanagra, Schl. Ned. Tijdschr. Dierk. iii. p. 190 (1865).
Turnagra hectori, Buller, Ibis, 1869, p. 39.
Turnagra tanagra, Gray, Hand-1. of B. i. p. 284 (1869).
Keropia tanagra, Finsch, J. f. O. 1870, p. 323.
Native names.
Piopio, Koropio, Korohea, and Tiutiukata.
Ad. statura T. crassirostris sed rostro crassiore, suprà olivascenti-brunneus: pileo nusquam striolato:
uropygio caudâque clare rufis: gutture albo: pectore superiore cinerascente: abdomine medio albo, parte
imâ et subcaudalibus conspicuè flavicantibus: hypochondriis olivascentibus: rostro et pedibus saturatè
brunneis: iridè flavâ.
Adult. Crown of the head, hind neck, and upper parts generally clear olive-brown; throat pure white;
breast and abdomen ashy grey, darker on the former, the abdomen and the under tail-coverts tinged with
yellow; sides olive-brown, washed with yellow; wing-feathers dark olive-brown, dusky on their inner
webs; tail-feathers and their upper coverts bright rufous, paler on their under surface, the two middle
ones tinged above with olive-brown. Irides yellow; bill and feet dark brown. Total length 11 inches; wing,
from flexure, 5·25; tail 5; bill, along the ridge ·8, along the edge of lower mandible 1; tarsus 1·25; middle
toe and claw 1·25; hind toe and claw 1.
Young. Birds of the first year differ in having the feathers at the base of the upper mandible, the tips of
those covering the crown and sides of the head, the small feathers fringing the eyelids, and a broad zone
on the upper part of the breast bright rufous; the primary and secondary wing-coverts, and sometimes the
secondary quills, are also largely tipped with the same colour, and the grey of the underparts is darker,
but with a tinge of orange-yellow under the wings.
InJanuary 1869 I communicated to ‘The Ibis’ the description of a new species of Thrush inhabiting the North Island, and differing from the South-Island bird ( Turnagra crassirostris) not only in plumage, but
in its superior size and more strongly developed bill; and I named it in compliment to my friend Dr. (now
Sir) James Hector, F.R.S., Director of the Colonial Museum and Geological Survey of New Zealand.
In an editorial footnote to my paper, Professor Newton suggested that this species might be identical
with one described, in a Dutch work, by Professor Schlegel, four years before, without, however, any
habitat being assigned to it. This opinion has since been verified by a careful comparison of the specimen
I have figured with the type of Schlegel's Otagon tanagra in the Museum at Vienna; and under ordinary
circumstances the name I have proposed would of course be reduced to a synonym. It will be observed,
however, that Professor Schlegel has used a common generic name to distinguish the bird specifically,
while he refers the form to the genus Otagon , established by Bonaparte in 1850. As I can see no valid
reason for setting aside the generic title of Turnagra proposed by Lesson as early as 1837, and as the
adoption of the older specific name would, according to this view, give the confused result of Turnagra
tanagra , I have deemed myself justified in retaining the distinctive appellation of T. hectori . At the
same time I am anxious to give due prominence to the fact that Professor Schlegel was the first to
discover the existence of this new species.
There is a peculiar charm about the New-Zealand forest in the early morning; for shortly after daylight a
number of birds of various kinds join their voices in a wild jubilee of song, which, generally speaking, is of
very short duration. This was the morning concert to which Captain Cook referred in such terms of
enthusiasm; and the woods of Queen Charlotte's Sound, where his ship lay at anchor, are no exception
to the general rule. In illustration of this, I take the following from an entry in one of my
note-books:—“Tuesday, 5 A.M.—At this moment the wooded valley of the Mangaone, in which we
have been camped for the night, is ringing with delightful music. It is somewhat difficult to distinguish the
performers amidst the general chorus of voices. The silvery notes of the Bell-bird, the bolder song of the
Tui, the loud continuous strain of the native Robin, the joyous chirping of a flock of White-heads, and the
whistling cry of the Piopio—all these voices of the forest are blended together in wild harmony. And the
music is occasionally varied by the harsh scream of a Kaka passing overhead, or the noisy chattering of a
pair of Parrakeets on a neighbouring tree, and at regular intervals the far-off cry of the Long-tailed
Cuckoo and the whistling call of its bronze-winged congener; while on every hand may be heard the soft
trilling notes of Myiomoira toitoi .” For more than an hour after this concert had ceased, and the sylvan
choristers had dispersed in search of their daily food, one species continued to enliven the valley with his
musical notes. This bird was the Piopio, or New-Zealand Thrush, the subject of the present article, and
unquestionably the best of our native songsters. His song consists of five distinct bars, each of which is
repeated six or seven times in succession; but he often stops abruptly in his overture to introduce a
variety of other notes, one of which is a peculiar rattling sound, accompanied by a spreading of the tail,
and apparently expressive of ecstacy. Some of the notes are scarcely distinguishable from those of the
Yellow-head; and I am inclined to think that the bird is endowed with mocking-powers. The ordinary
note, however, of the Piopio, whence it derives its name, is a short, sharp, whistling cry, quickly
repeated.
It was when I obtained a caged Piopio that I first became acquainted with its superior vocal powers. In
1866 I purchased one for a guinea from a settler in Wellington, in whose possession it had been for a
whole year. Although an adult bird when taken, it appeared to have become perfectly reconciled to
confinement; but on being placed in a new cage it made strenuous assaults on the wire bars, and
persevered till the feathers surrounding its beak were rubbed off and a raw wound exposed. It then
desisted for several days; but when the abraded part had fairly healed, it renewed the attempt, and with
such determined effort that the fore part of the head was completely disfigured, and the life of the bird
endangered. On being removed, however, to a spacious compartment of the aviary, it immediately
became reconciled to its condition, made no further efforts to escape, and for a period of fifteen months
(when it came to an untimely end) it continued to exhibit the contentment and spright-liness of a bird in a state of nature.
I observed that this bird was always most lively during or immediately preceding a shower of rain. He
often astonished me with the power and variety of his notes. Commencing sometimes with the loud
strains of the Thrush, he would suddenly change his song to a low flute-note of exquisite sweetness; and
then abruptly stopping, would give vent to a loud rasping cry, as if mimicking a pair of Australian
Magpies confined in the same aviary. During the early morning he emitted at intervals a short flute-note,
and when alarmed or startled uttered a sharp repeated whistle.
This caged bird was generally fed on dry pulse or grain; but he also evinced a great liking for cooked
potato and raw meat of all kinds; in fact he appeared to be omnivorous, readily devouring earthworms,
insects of all kinds, fruits, berries, green herbs, &c. He was supplied daily with a dish of fresh water, and
was accustomed to bathe in it with evident delight. At one time he occupied the same division of the
aviary with a pair of Australian Ring-Doves which had commenced to breed. The Doves were allowed to
bring up their first brood in peace; but when the hen bird began to build a second time, she was closely
watched by the Piopio, and immediately the first egg was deposited he darted upon the nest and
devoured it. The innocent little Ring-Dove continued to lay on in spite of repeated robbery, and had at
length to be placed beyond the reach of her persecutor. During the day the Piopio was unceasingly active
and lively; at night he slept on a perch, resting on one leg, and with the plumage puffed out into the form
of a perfectly round ball, the circular outline broken only by the projecting extremities of the wings and
tail. Every sound seemed to attract his notice, and he betrayed an inquisitiveness of disposition which in
the end proved fatal; for having inserted his prying head through an open chink in the partition, it was
seized and torn off by a vicious Sparrow-Hawk in the adjoining compartment of the aviary.
In the wild state this species subsists chiefly on insects, worms, and berries. I have shot it on. the ground
in the act of grubbing with its bill among the dry leaves and other forest debris. Its flight is short and rapid.
It haunts the undergrowth of the forest, darting from tree to tree, and occasionally descending to the
ground, but rarely performing any long passage on the wing. It is very nimble in its movements; and when
attempting on one occasion to catch one of these birds with an almost invisible horsehair noose, it
repeatedly darted right through the snare, and defeated every effort to entrap it.
In my former edition of this work I stated that the Piopio was at that time comparatively common in all
suitable localities throughout the southern portion of the North Island, but was extremely rare in the
country north of Waikato. I mentioned also that a specimen which I shot in the Kaipara district in the
summer of 1852 (doubtless a straggler from the south) was quite a novelty to the natives in that part of
the country; that it was recognized, however, by an old Maori, who called it a “Korohea,” a name quite
unknown in the south, and who stated that in former years it was very abundant in all the woods. I
ventured then to express a belief that the bird whose biography I had undertaken to write would soon be
equally scarce elsewhere. And so it has proved, for the North-Island Piopio is now one of our rarest
species, and is certainly doomed to extinction within a very few years.
In the Bay of Plenty district it has never been heard of since the time of Hongi's famous invasion (about
the year 1820). A little wooded spur near Te Puke settlement, behind Maketu, frequented by a pair of
these birds at that troublous period has ever since borne the name of Piopiorua; and to the present day
the old men talk of the ominous appearance in their district of this “manu aitua” at the time that the
bloodthirsty warrior landed in. his war-canoes and spread terror and destruction with his newly acquired
firearms
*Captain Mair, -who took a prominent part throughout the late Maori War, and finally won the
Now-Zealand Cross by his gallant conduct at Ohinemutu, informs me that on one occasion, when in
close pursuit of Te Kooti and his followers in the Urewera country, he unexpectedly came upon a pair of these birds in the bush, and, at the risk of scaring his nobler game, could not resist the temptation of
shooting both specimens of so rare a species. This was at a place between the Whakatane and Rangitaiki
rivers. During very many years spent in the Bay of Plenty he has never seen or heard of the Pionio in that
district or in the Rotorua country; but he once heard its unmistakable note in some low bush at the
northern end of Lake Taupo. In February 1880 he shot a pair at Taumarunui, near the junction of the
Wanganui river with the Ongarue in The Tuhua eountry, at a point about 250 miles by the river from the
town of Wanganui. This pair had been known to the natives as inhabiting that particular locality for
several years. In the hope of securing them he travelled moro than fifteen miles through the bush. He
found them perfectly tame, answering his call and hopping round him, apparently quite heedless of his
presence; but his efforts to ensnare them were all in vain, the bird always darting through the loop and
escaping.
.
The last accessible place in which I met with it was Horokiwi, about 25 miles from Wellington. This was
some twenty years ago—when riding through this lovely wooded valley—at a time when the road passed
through the primitive forest, all untouched by the hand of man, disclosing to the eye new beauties at every
turn as it followed the course of a tortuous mountain-stream. From the time of my first visit up to the
present (and I have passed through the valley hundreds of times) I have never tired of this beautiful sylvan
scenery; but at the period I speak of the bush was an almost impervious tangle, the lower tree-tops
bound together with kareao and other creeping plants, and the trees themselves laden with a rich
epiphytic growth. Even now it is a delightfully refreshing resort. The tawa rears its feathery branches of
soft pale green, and beside it rises, like a sentinel, the cone-shaped top of the darker Knightia excelsa ;
the bright green of the rimu with its graceful, drooping boughs, is everywhere present; and, as the eye
scans the scene more closely, almost every tree common to the New-Zealand bush may be readily
distinguished, all growing in rank profusion, plentifully sprinkled with the star-like crowns of giant
tree-ferns, varied here and there with the bending palm-like top of the nikau ( Areca sapida), its huge
stem springing up from the shady depths of the uneven forest—the whole presenting a beautiful picture, in
ever varying tints, and almost subtropical in the luxuriance of its growth. In this valley there are yet some
matchless groups of Cyathea medullaris and other tree-ferns; but the hand of civilization is upon the
wilderness, the virgin forest is receding more and more, the axe of the woodman is incessant, and the
bushman's fire is doing every season its further work of devastation. A few years hence, and the sylvan
beauty of Horokiwi with all its sweet memories will have passed away for ever|
One peculiarity about this species is its devotion to some particular locality, beyond which it never
wanders very far. Mr. C. Field, a Government surveyor, who has spent the best part of his life in the
woods, writes to me:—” I have seen the bird in the same spot year after year, and generally in pairs,
except when the hen is nesting. To my certain knowledge a pair of them have kept to the same locality,
on a valley flat by the side of a stream, for a period of seven or eight years.” My last fresh specimens
(two males and one female preserved in spirit) were received in January 1884, from this gentleman, who
obtained them far up the wooded valley of the Pourewa on the west coast, where he was conducting a
trigonometrical survey. A year later a skin was sent in by Mr. Tone, another Government surveyor, who
was employed on the east coast, and who informed me that the bird was still to be met with in the woods
at Akitio.
A pair has been known to frequent for several seasons a spot on the western side of the Rangataua lake,
near the source of the Mangawhero river, at the foot of the Ruapehu mountain. A correspondent who
visited the place in the summer of 1880 was informed by the resident natives that the birds had always
nested there. He could hear their musical song from his camp across the lake, and on going over he found
the old birds in a maire tree, but could see nothing of the young brood. They were very tame and
fearless, and on his simulating their notes they readily came to the ground and hopped about, scratching
the surface and turning over the leaves as if in search of insects. It shows how rare the bird has become when its habitat is thus localized. Indeed, it has already entirely
disappeared from a tract of country where in former years it was specially abundant. In proof of this, I
may mention the experience of Mr. Morgan Carkeek, who in 1884, at the instance of the Public Works
Department, made a careful exploration of the Mokau-Wanganui district. Starting from the foot of Mount
Egmont he followed down the Patea river, then up the north-east branches of this and the Wanganui
rivers, crossed the watershed, and followed up the north-west branches of the latter into the Tuhua
country; and then returned, by a route lying between the White Cliffs and Mokau, to the sea-coast. All
the country thus traversed is heavy bush-land and, for the most part, excessively rough and broken.
During the whole journey, which occupied about two months, he never once saw or heard a Piopio|
As to its nidification, I may mention that in the Ruahine ranges I met with a breeding-pair of these birds
late in December. The sudden disappearance of the female and the cautious demeanour of the male
satisfied me that I was in the immediate vicinity of the nest; but I nevertheless failed in my endeavours to
find it. The bird resented my intrusion on its sanctum by a peculiar purr, not unlike the alarm-note of the
American Cardinal ( Cardinalis virginianus), accompanied by a sudden spreading of the tail.
A native once-described the nest to me as being of large size and composed of moss, twigs, and dry
leaves. He assured me that he had twice met with it in the high scrub near the Manawatu river, and that in
both cases the nest contained two eggs. This was many years ago; but that the account was reliable may
be inferred from the fact, since ascertained, that this description applies very well to that of a closely
allied species in the South Island.
Although Turnagra has hitherto been placed among the Turdidæ, the form is admittedly an aberrant
one. Dr. Finsch has suggested the propriety of uniting it to Glaucopis , but I do not think this view has
met with any acceptance or support. Fortunately I was able to bring with me to England a specimen in
alcohol, which I forwarded to Dr. Gadow, of Cambridge, for anatomical study. After making an autopsy,
with his accustomed care, he writes to me as follows:—” I am sorry to say that the outcome of my
investigation regarding Turnagra is not very striking. After all, you are quite right in your suggestions as
to its position and affinities. The fact is, we know so little of the anatomy of the many birds belonging to
the Timeliidæ that comparison with these forms is almost out of the question. At any rate, it is satisfactory
to know that there are not present any known characters to indicate other affinities, or to negative your
suggestions.”
Mr. Sharpe has placed Turnagra among his Timeliidæ; but I have decided to make it the type of a new
family, Turnagridæ, because the form seems to differ quite as much from typical Timelia as it does from
Turdus .
As it is important to place on permanent record the results of Dr. Gadow's patient study of the subject, I
shall here append his report in full, together with his detailed remarks on Glaucopis (referred to on page
4 ), in order to show that there is no relationship between these two forms, not-withstanding the similarity
of some of the external characters:—
“Turnagra.—Stomach quadrangular, flattened, very muscular. Crop absent. Tongue fleshy, with a few
short bristles on the sides near the tip. Intestinal convolutions Thrush-like, certainly not Corvine, with
decided graminivorous adaptation. Syrinx muscles acromyodean. Pterylosis agrees with Nitzsch's
Subulirostres s. Canoræ. Ten primaries; terminal (or first) long; tip of wing formed by third to seventh;
sixth longest. Nine secondaries. Twelve tail-feathers. Metatarsus like that of Thrushes or Sylviæ. Sternum
and shoulder-girdle agree with many birds: Struthidea, Graucalus, Strepera, Ptilonorhynchus, Turdus
(i. e. all alike). Conclusion : After examination of the digestive apparatus, the pelvic nerve-plexus, the
skeleton, and the pterylosis, I feel inclined to put Turnagra with the wide and ill-defined group of Timeliidæ. Turnagra is certainly neither Corvine nor Fringilline, and it is in fact a member of the Southern
(Indian-Australian) mass of Thrush-like birds. Its bill and certain modifications of its digestive apparatus
seem to show that this bird is a Thrush with graminivorous propensities . I would put it into Sharpe's
subfamily Ptilonorhynchinæ, to which Æluroedus belongs, but unfortunately Ptilonorhynchus itself is very
different from Timeliidæ in its pterylosis.”
“Glaucopis.—After examination of the skeleton I am satisfied that Glaucopis comes nearest to the
Corvidæ. The skull , although in general configuration and beak very similar to that of Struthidea ,
differs from the latter. Barring the peculiar lacrymals, it agrees with Ptilonorhynchus , also with Strepera
, and, more remotely, with Paradisea . No agreement with Graucalus . Comparison with Heteralocha
and Sturnus is not possible. Skull, consequently, agrees with Ptilonorhynchus and Strepera. Sternum :
agrees most with that of Strepera , far less with Graucalus, Struthidea, Paradisea. Ptilonorhynchus
disagrees in clavicles, like Heteralocha and Sturnus . Pelvis and sacrum : agrees with Graucalus,
Heteralocha , and Ptilonorhynchus , also with Strepera, Paradisea , and Struthidea. Metatarsal
scutes : agree most with Heteralocha ; through the fusing condition in which the scutes are, very much
with Ptilonorhynchus and Gymnorhina. Hyoid bones : Corvidæ. Pterylosis: Strepera and
Ptilonorhynchus , but the latter has considerably more remiges. Conclusion: Glaucopis is nearly allied
to the Austrocoracos. It agrees best with Strepera (Gymnorhininæ in general), and shows some
considerable similarity in structure with Ptilonorhynchus. Struthidea agrees with Glaucopis by far less
than you might perhaps suppose, and Graucalus is still further removed. Heteralocha is an unmistakable
Starling form, and has little of importance in common with Glaucopis .”
Source: A History of the Birds of New Zealand.
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