Planet Rothschildi

[Tame Emu Guy]

There’s a lot going on on Planet Rothschildi. Firstly – but details later – I have started banging heads with a whole Indian university. Remember the guy who wrote that emus are solitary birds? Well, I went back and worked his article over – he’s a plagiarist: he just cut-and-pasted stuff out of Happy Emu articles on the Net, and pasted them into his ‘scholarly articles’!!
So, after sending bunch of bunches of emails, and writing Dear Sir, blah blah blah, I want to go out and get some data. It will be hard, and take some time; but I want to do things like watch the ‘afternoon birds’ down on Coffey’s swamp paddock. I need to know if they go back into the scrub to roost. I’m sure they do; but the academics say otherwise.

The trip across the river was a first, a long way for me. Gee, guys: I love this hobby, and I’m gonna stick with it; but Summer here is hard hard work, and observing is gonna present real difficulties.
Here’s something pleasant:

readers, we are privileged to know the owners of absolutely and undoubtedly one of the most beautiful properties in the million square miles of this state. (The owner’s old old dad needed someone to ‘edit’ his stamp collection, and people in this neck of the woods with the necessary skills – I’m a retired technical-writing tutor – are few and far between. That’s how I got to know her.)

As I figure out more about the ‘prehistoric emu thing,’ the more I understand the centrality of permanent water to the evolution of emus. [For example, I now suspect that the fluctuations in the emu population were much much larger in the old days, before there were so many sources of water. It may have been a much more brutal environment than we might have thought, and that’s hinted at in the discrepancies between the life-spans of wild and captive birds. That kangaroo – with its Achilles tendon ripped out – that’s real. It’s just out the back.]

Well, there’s a lake on her place. It has water all year around. It’s famous for its birds. (Quite famous. The Government Department of Birdwatchers is always out there, traipsing around. All manner of groups are always trying to gain access to the place. Yay, go us!!) We are gonna arrange a day’s observation over there, particularly the morning and evening, to determine if the wild birds come and go to the water from further afield.

Got no emus here but. Haven’t seen Felicity or Greedy and Speckles for days and days. The first foreign birds poked their nose into the clearing yesterday, and the fruit on the fruit trees is positively swelling.

Next: really, readers, if you have a spare half hour, watch the documentary on cassowaries that Casuarius posted. I have watched it three times. It’s tremendous.

Finally, would all aficionados (means ‘passionate,’ to have a passion for. For Hemingway, it was bullfights. For us, it’s feathery dinosaurs.) please post a brief opinion:

Are emus solitary life-forms by any normal definition of the word?

S.E.

 

[Raptor65]

On the subject of natural population cycles, here in America the Deer have large population booms, then massive die off in the winter. This is the natural cycle for Deer, but in places where there is regulated hunting the die offs don't occur because the Deer population isn't allowed to swell beyond what territory and winter food supply can support.

But in places which have fewer hunters or no hunting, the Deer will venture into developed areas after having stripped the forest bare of everything above the height of the average deer on it's hind legs and feast on the greenery around houses which throws everything out of order and often results in roadkill.

Anyway what I'm getting at is if there were no humans in North America, the Deer would have a large buildup of individuals up until winter, when food begins to become scarce and the stronger, tougher Deer stake out territory and force the others to move on.
One might assume a similar thing would happen to Emus in the summer with competition for water, especially if a watering hole suddenly dries up.

This happens with crocodiles in Africa as well so it's a pretty widespread method of survival even between completely different animals and typically ends badly for the majority of the population, large powerful crocodiles will stake out territory, forcing other crocodiles to leave the water in search of other places of safety, often resulting in their deaths when they can't find water or don't survive the trip with the summer sun beating down on them. Even for the ones that do take control of a watering hole the danger of that water drying up is very real, and I wouldn't imagine Emus can burrow into the mud and wait several weeks underground without food for the rain to come.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Ahhh . . . thank you, Raptor. That is a great bit of info. I felt a little apocalyptic when I posted this morning, but I have been trying to formulate even the roughest roughest ‘equation’ of how large an average emu’s territory is/what amount of pasture is on it/how fast that pasture vanishes as summer progresses/how far down the pecking-order that bird might be/etc. etc. Then, if you just subtract the fact of all human-made water sources, the situations gets ugly rather fast.

‘Even for the ones that do take control of a watering hole the danger of that water drying up is very real, and I wouldn't imagine Emus can burrow into the mud and wait several weeks underground without food for the rain to come.’


The Net says that emus up stakes in bad times, and hit the trail; and that may well be so – but what you wrote tells me that you can see how it might . . . not go well.

Trying to figure out how big – and therefore how resilient – the original swamp was is v. interesting. I would love to have you all here, so we could walk it together. It goes dry in summer now. Did it go dry in summer ten thousand years ago? How long was it then? (Something like four miles. Now it’s down to a half a mile.)

‘Kay, everyone: just spoke to the owner of The Beautiful Property. We have permission to observe there.

She says that as many as sixty or seventy emus congregate on the shores of the lake in mid-summer!

And . . . we talked about microclimates. Today she saw (at the lake) a male with chicks that she swears were no more than a fortnight old. I expressed dismay. She explained that her place has a sort of ‘left over winter’ affect because it’s wetter and windier.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Set out for ‘back of Oudman’s’ for ‘first attempt/reconnaissance’ at 2:30 a.m. Didn’t wind up in the right spot – navigational hitch – but we really learned a lot today, readers; and I really will need your help to make sense of it all. Here’s a photo of part of the observation area. This is not The Big Green, guys. This is looking back towards my place and Coffey’s and Oudman’s:




The photo below is part of the same area. The N.P. is on the left. The island of scrub visible is ‘the roost,’ which we are about to visit. I want to be positioned near here at dawn to see if (a) emus cross from the N.P. to this ‘pasture’ (It’s not actually bad feed), and (b) emus emerge from the roost.


Firstly, the academic stuff. That last long long post was about me trying to figure out if emus eat, drink, and poop at night, which is relative to their daytime movements. If you camp at night far from water . . . you can’t drink at night.
An academic named ‘Immelmann’ says they feed and defecate at night; but he did his observations in a German zoo. Another source claims that they drink. Apparently, in over a half a century, no one has ever said, ‘No . . . wait a minute. That simply makes no sense!! Wild birds don’t crash around in the scrub at night – six to eight times, no less – to eat.’

I mean no respect to this academic, but I think he’s wrong. Poop at night – yes. Eat at night? Eat what? Drink at night? Drink where?

Well, I returned this morning to that place that we thought last winter might be a roost – and it is!! BYC readers, this may be a first. Here's a better shot of the roost:






I am sure that emus sleep here at night. There are piles of blessings, and feathers. Here is one:



‘Kay, now it gets interesting. Here’s a photo of another ‘roost’:




Look carefully at the blessings in it. They show that the bird has eaten different things on different days. Really different things! This is great information about the birds’ movements.





Then, full of enthusiasm, I walked to a copse on the next hill. (We’ll be back at dawn in a little while.) On the copse I found a roost that still had the imprint of the bird’s body on the grass. Here below is a photo of it. I reckon it was used until about three hours before I arrived. (So that bird is gonna get a shock tomorrow at 3:30 a.m., ‘cause my observation post is about ten yards away.)

Now back to dawn, then S.E. must go and roost:


I didn’t get lost as such, but I have never needed to use the tracks – which you have to use in the dark. In the rain. With a patch over one eye. I ended up in the right place . . . but the wrong part of the right place. Still, it was great. I had a fine ‘hide’: a pile of comfy gum litter, into which I snuggled down in my brown jacket. Then I closed my eyes – it was still about 4:30, still before first light – and listened to the sounds. Kookaburras and kurrawongs are always first, then other birds. I was still squirming around, trying to choose my ‘vector.’ At this point, I must admit that I didn’t know quite know which direction I was facing. I wasn’t lost (and E.H., I missed a fabulous shot of the moon going down).
I knew my way out, but I couldn’t tell what was gums and what was N.P. and what was normal scrub.
Then it was dawn. I heard an emu call. Sure enough, a pair, just come from their roost, were already grazing on the edge of the open area – this is still before 5:00 a.m.



I am working on a better camera. There will be emu-cam for fig-time. Meanwhile, look at the photo below, can you find one bird? Right in the middle? They are really close. It’s the first time I’ve been able to photograph a wild bird:



I observed them at length – they were much closer than the photo suggests. It was absolutely can’t-buy-it-for-money quiet. I was perhaps 120 feet away when I took the photo, and one bird heard the ‘click.’ They both stood and stared about hard for some time, then moseyed off. I did notice that they lifted their heads to check for danger much less often than the birds over ‘my side.’ Gotta watch for this tomorrow.

More later. S.E.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Pardon the focus on poop. All data is good data:

one day last winter, when Felicity was Queen for a Week, I saw and commented upon a particular thing: Felicity was here alone when two wild birds approached her at the lilly pilly tree. I watched what followed. It was low key, but resulted in the birds accessing the tree: Felicity couldn’t hold the pair of them off. At that time, I noted the tremendous difference in the diet of birds according to their place on The Ladder.

Yesterday, right up on the fence of the National Park, I saw a blessing that immediately attracted my attention. This whole Life and Death Thing really begins to impress itself upon me (and in conjunction with the 'who controls the pastures thing'). Here’s the blessing:






This bird is likely to lose the raffle, guys. I’ve never seen a poop with so much fibre, so much low-value grass in it. A quarter of a mile away, in the roost, are the blessings of another bird, the one with the multi-coloured exhaust. That bird is clearly covering a wider range. One of its blessings is quite full of the ‘button’ of little yellow flowers. I think:
Stronger bird = larger range = better balance of diet = stronger bird

I joked once about my birds being ‘grain fed,’ but it’s no longer a joke. I think that there is an unending ‘power play’ on each and every pasture and waterhole; and this bird is not faring well. To make the point, consider the two photos below. You can work it out:





S.E.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Deep breath . . .

Dawn at The Big Green:






Morning, everyone! I was snuggling down into the gum litter at the ‘back of Oudman’s’ at about 3:40 a.m. The logistics and technique were exemplary this time. I hoped to see if birds actually come from The Big Green at dawn, to graze on the pasture; or to see an emu emerge from the roost or from the creek at the foot of the hill. It really is a great observation point, and we shall return. Today, though, the observation was a total failure – not a single emu. Nary a one.

Here's the eastern sky at dawn:




Here’s the skyline to the south of that photo, The Big Green:



I learned more, though – I found another roost!! Small pieces of the (v. v. large) puzzle are falling into place: you look around a big pasture. You note stands of trees on high ground. You go and look. So far, roosts in three places; six actual roosts all up.

Emu Tracks at Water:

can’t find many!! Actually, I have found . . . one. And a feather in a dam! Do their toe-sies sit in the water? And the tracks then dissolve? What do you think?

Overall Demographics of Emus:

[should be ‘emugraphics’ . . . ‘demos’ means ‘humans’] I can only confess complete confusion. On one day, there are emus running about everywhere. The following day, no emus to be found.

Overall, though, my understanding of ‘the map’ has increased greatly. Five years ago, it was just a couple of emus coming to the house. Although I saw emus all over place after that, I wasn’t correlating anything to anything. The Mating-Season thread changed that – thank you to all BYC persons. It wouldn’t be fun if you weren’t reading.

Now I am beginning to see The Big Cycle, and every bit of data now falls into its slot.

The Equation, guys, goes something like this:

[rapidly decreasing] water + small [and decreasing] good pastures + a million square miles of starvation scrub + crossable fences + uncrossable fences + the natural aggression of the birds involved/mating-instinct.

Here’s an example: the Top Corner and the swamp paddock are adjacent. I can go down (almost) any day to see emus at the Top Corner. I see birds grazing on the swamp paddock perhaps one in three observations. But . . . the two pastures are separated by fence the birds can't cross. I think that there are two groups of birds – at least two alpha groups. I think that the birds that graze at the Top Corner sneak through the fence (south) to roost. I think that the swamp-paddock birds go into the ‘island’ that’s on the swamp paddock (west).

Give me your thoughts:

do you think the collective males down at the nursery at The 500 are given some sort of emu-society permission to hog that exquisite pasture? Or do those dads fight for it? (There are non-dad birds in there.)

Change subject. Check the photo below:


Emus don’t like this grass! How do we know? Well, I walked through a half a mile of it, and couldn’t find a bird or a blessing. Note the absence of Lima Yankee Foxtrots. I will start trying to guess what the emus will eat next. For example, this morning, I didn’t get a single burr in my socks in the Unyummy pasture. A burr is a seed. A ripe seed. The Unyummy pasture is full of a grass whose seeds aren’t ripe yet. They will be soon. Will the birds then switch to this pasture? Next autumn, we’ll be waiting for the birds to ‘jump’ to the grass seeds that fill their blessings in the run-up to winter.


Life in The Big Green:

I went about a half a mile into The Big Green on a dirt track, guys; and I found my mind ticking over the whole time: guys, do any emus live in there? Say what? What a dumb question!!

Is it? If you were an emu, would you live in there? Now, before we go on, I’m talking about the patch beyond ‘the back of Oudman’s.’ We need information about the rest. (I have been driving in there with Ken. Must think back on that – I recall emu friendly places.)

There are emu-Yummy foods in there; but my point is that the present overall situation is very very strange: the emus lived here for eighty million years before the first fence went up. Now, the uncrossable fences rule their world They just can’t migrate as they once did. At the same time, if they can cross fences, they get water and pasture beyond their wildest dreams. (Do emus dream about pasture?)

Gotta go roost.

S.E.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

Eric has brought chicks!!

Report:

Eric the emu, who has been coming here for nearly five years that I know of (he is the father of my two tame birds) arrived this afternoon. He has two chicks with him. (They’re still here.) The chicks are slightly different in colour and size. One is perhaps twenty percent smaller than the other, and has several ‘wounds’ – well, I’m not sure; but something like it. They are quite healthy.
The chicks clearly like the wheat, but repeatedly moved away to eat the wild grass. I could see through the binoculars that both are eating the flowers and semi-formed seeds of grasses.

The chicks seemed – even with me in sight – happy to move about thirty feet from Eric. (I should spend more time interpreting their calls.)

Eric toured the house-clearing’s fruit trees. You may recall that I wrote of Felicity doing this. Well, emus aren’t that stupid: Eric went first to the early-plum tree, then to several others. He did so in the order in which those trees fruit. He didn’t even check the fig tree. It fruits much later.

Eric Plus have been here twice today: I have started a new habit. I put a coffee can of wheat on a post in the yard. All my birds ‘speak coffee can’!! The can was empty when I returned from the back of Oudman’s this morning. I thought it was Felicity, but it was probably Eric Plus.

This visit is routine behaviour for this bird. For new readers, this old bird (got a great scar on his neck. I’d give a fortnight’s pension to have seen that fight!) turned up in autumn, 2008, just after I moved in. I figured then that he had been scoffing the fallen fruit before. He was old and ornery looking then, so he must be eight or ten.

He is – until Felicity whups him – second only to Greedy. He has a dinosaur’s eyes.

We could make guesses about the attrition of clutches from Eric. His mate is undoubtedly an alpha bird. So, they would have, on average, good-sized 'hatchings.' Now there are two. There were three the time he brought 'my' chicks here.

Please ask any questions you like.










Supreme Emu

 

[kbgh]

I just found this thread and am truly in awe. The information and pictures are the best. Anytime a "first person" account such as yours can hold so much interest it is totally awsome.

Of all places in the world to visit it has always been my dream to see the Australian Outback. You are helping me with that dream even though I can't actually be there.

I am subscribing to this threa so as not to miss any more of it.

Please keep it up.

From North Eastern Pennsylvania, USA, Kerry

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

I examined two of Eric’s blessings. They don’t accord with my theory: pretty much all grass but no ‘flower buttons.’ I don’t know what that tells us. I’m sure the basic notion is sound because of the great differences in diets of the alpha and non-alpha birds here in the house-clearing; but I'll keep looking.

I wonder where they roost?

S.E.

 

[Tame Emu Guy]

There were six birds here at dawn, and what transpired was most interesting – but first a detail from yesterday:
Went to town. Thus, dashed some wheat down and bolted. Eric Plus was here, and so were two other birds. One approached Eric. The other was scared, and skittered about on the edge of the clearing. I think the bird that approached Eric was Speckles.

This morning, Eric Plus Chicks and Felicity and ‘Speckles’ – and another bird hangin’ out with ‘Speckles.’

Firstly, the long-awaited showdown between Eric and Felicity. Lasted two seconds – and seriously, it seemed to go like this: firstly, an almost ceremonial exchange of kicks, without Bruce-Lee jumping in the air. Then, as though having shifted up a gear, Eric did this with a single swipe:





Felicity withdrew . . . and started threatening ‘Speckles.’ She slowly drove ‘him’ around the clearing, then out into the gum trees. I checked the aisles, and found the sixth bird, the one shadowing ‘Speckles.’ Then Felicity left with ‘Speckles’ and co.

The Policies of the Project

Readers, I would appreciate your views on this:

policy should be: Eric gets a half a coffee can of wheat morning and night because he is a ‘here’ emu, though a peripheral one. ‘My’ birds, Felicity and Greedy, get the same basic ration; but I will give them any extras that I feel like. (sultanas!)

Otherwise, no one gets anything else. I have been a little liberal at times. For example, throwing down cans of wheat in order to attract and photograph breeding-season contenders, and not throwing handfuls of sultanas to wild chicks cheeping at your back door is a hard thing.

However, if Eric’s two chicks (Alpha and Omega) ‘imprint’ on the house-clearing -- bearing in mind that Boy Emu is still here somewhere, and that Speckles (perhaps split from Greedy?) is prepared to poke his beak in -- well, that leaves the house-clearing ‘running a bit hot,’ don’t you think?


Otherwise, had a valuable chat with a local guy who grew up here and farms near by. He knows enough about The Deep Green to explain a little. (He told me he’s seen perhaps sixty brumbies at different times, including a magnificent stallion, in their territory, which is just to the West of where I was observing. Apparently, the brumbies are also involved in this cross-fence-to-access-pasture thing.

S.E.

Supreme Emu