Wild Emus at The Lilly Pilly Tree

So, what we’re getting, readers, is a very ‘uncluttered’ insight into how GB Emu is ‘coming out’ in the (Emu) world.



First, let’s note A Bigger Thing: most readers have some ‘paddock emus.’ You get to observe them much closer than I do. I’ve never hugged an emu. (They object.) But your ‘area of observation’ is far from complete. The fact of captivity skews the value of (some of) your observations greatly.



Likewise, my observations are less than perfect; but they are of wild emus.



Over years, we have pieced together our observations. Some things we know a lot about. Some things we are making wild guesses about. Some things are an ‘hypothesis in progress.’



Well, GB Emu and Consort are ‘an hypothesis.’ Felicity Emu didn’t mate until her fifth year. It became clear around then that a ‘third year female’ – two years and a few days – is like a teenager at a prom. She is learning the mating game, unprepared to tackle older more powerful birds.



GB, you recall, is not a member of Eric’s family. She is the first ever ‘walk in’: she arrived as a chick in her second year, with another chick that was likely her sibling. She figured out that wheat is Yummy, and just stayed! Consorts and various strays have got a peck or two of wheat over the years; but no wild bird has ever just set up shop.



Now we get to work:



GB is just days into her third year. She already has what appears to be a consort – he’s been around for weeks now.

They talk to each other, from moving from the roost to sitting down for their wheat together. (There has been a second female vocalizing some mornings of late.)



The other day we reported GB and Consort driving an interloper off – territorial defense! We note that they have formed a breeding-pair long long before the ususal time.



In recent days, the pair has been coming and going. They spend a day away, and turn up for a feed.



How far do they roam when away? We don’t know.



SE

PS Dawns are already coming noticeably earlier. Fine!! Bird song has been superlative.
 
Last edited:
So, good data and bad data?


A minute ago, I spied an adult emu. It was a male with four (or five) chicks. They were half-grown – so they must be last spring’s chicks.



It’s 99.9% certain it was a Dad with his clutch, a clutch that he decided to stay with over winter, and into this spring.



This is a great datum. Do Dad emus sometimes abandon their clutches in autumn, in order to have a chance of mating in winter? We know ‘Yes’ because we have data on this. (Cold lonely freaked-out fuzzball chicks sitting by themselves in the pouring rain as winter comes on.)



But we also know that sometimes they don’t. How? Because you sometimes see a Dad with chicks like the ones in this photo.



SE
 
A wild female has been messin’ with GB Emu’s mind for several days, vocalizing from different compass points. This morning, she made her move.



As she advanced across the clearing towards GB, GB made a lot of fuss but avoided contact.

GB is on the left. She’s vocalizing. But you can see the second when she changes course.
 

Then blah blah blah – I have no idea! There was a tree in the way. Emus ran wildly off into the fog.



Now y’all welcome to chime in. Watch the second clip. I think the middle of the three is GB. And Consort is likely the emu to the left of GB.



This makes the right-hand bird the attacker . . .



and they all ran off into the fog.
 
This is a great datum. Do Dad emus sometimes abandon their clutches in autumn, in order to have a chance of mating in winter? We know ‘Yes’ because we have data on this. (Cold lonely freaked-out fuzzball chicks sitting by themselves in the pouring rain as winter comes on.)
How do the emu chicks survive without parental assistance? Like an abandoned chicken chick would be dead in short order (I would think)...
 
'How do the emu chicks survive without parental assistance? Like an abandoned chicken chick would be dead in short order'

Thinking as an evolutionary biologist is a good place to start, Evadig: there must be some logic here, or emus would likely not have evolved this way.

But here's the answer you're looking for:

it seems that the risk of predation drops rapidly in the first six months or so of a chick's life. In their first week, to watch them travelling with their Dad is to understand their vulnerability. The 'litter' -- leaves and twigs, etc. -- on the ground is often as tall as they are.

But at the end of their first season (12 weeks), they start sprouting serious plumage, they get bigger, and more importantly, they get FAST.

And they are learning to source food and water.

So, if they get the boot at 8-9 months, they are, at night, wet and cold and scared; but they are also an efficient little life-form: fast and knowledgeable.

The chicks below are about seven months -- you can guess the age of chicks in my photos from the background. It's early autumn. The dead grass and ripe figs tells you that.
 

Attachments

  • 20170207_061327.jpg
    20170207_061327.jpg
    597.6 KB · Views: 8

New posts New threads Active threads

Back
Top Bottom