Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Flashers

Science is always soothing to me. There’s something comforting about simple observation. So today I took shameless advantage of my needing to document the local wildlife, and played the anti-social scientist; I spent the day sprawled on the cliff face with my binoculars glued to my eyeballs, watching the most recent herd of uku to pass through our territory.



They eat a lot.

A lot. I think about 90^% of today was just watching the things eat. Granted, their food source is somewhat labor intensive; the plant almost resembles bamboo in that it’s primarily a cylindrical stem with thin, lefty extremities. The uku have no interest in the leaves. Instead they use their sharp, horn-like beaks to snap off pieces of the stem, and then split the pieces open to get at the soft pulp inside. Kohric says the pulp is sweet, and the Azu-nah use it to make something a little like candied fruit (I will officially not be able to die happy if I don’t get to try at least one piece of candied koh before I croak).

Anyway, when they’re not hunting around for something to eat (which is rare), they seem to engage in a lot of … shoving. There’s definitely some sort of hierarchy in the herd, but I have a very hard time telling the individual animals apart, so I haven’t been able to pin it down. The sexes look identical, for example, and other than size and their horns being a bit blunter, the young look almost the same as the adults. This makes it tricky to tell who an individual is arguing with and why.

The shoving matches are relatively subdued for the most part; one individual will saunter up to another, broadside, and just start shoving. The two will huff and honk and push back and forth for a few minutes, and then the loser will go off and sulk. Occasionally the argument will get a little more rowdy, and the two “combatants” will start puffing the dewlap-like structure on their necks. The skin seems to be thin and very flexible, like a frigatebird’s gular pouch, and can inflate into a kind of spiky red balloon under the jaw.

One encounter, though, was even more impressive. The shoving had started as usual, and had escalated to gular-pouch-dewlap-thingy puffing. But instead of one of them breaking off and going away, they just kept at it. Maybe they were evenly matched. Whatever it was, it was enough to move to the next level of behavior. One of the two suddenly reared up on its hind legs and a huge hood expanded from its neck. The bony spikes lining each side of the neck are apparently anchors for a fleshy frill structure. There are two vibrant eye spots on the inside of the hood that are normally hidden.
They’re iridescent, and the animal rocks back and forth on its hind legs while displaying them, causing them to flash. They’re surprisingly bright. The non-displaying uku immediately backed down and trotted off to hide behind a bush.

It was fascinating. I’m dying to know if the hoods are exclusively to intimidate rivals (for what I still don’t know), if both sexes have them, and if there’s some aspect of the hood that makes one “win” a fight. I wonder if the hood is mostly used for breeding displays, like with pheasants? That’s the problem with ethology; one question answered, thirty new questions arise.

Poor Kohric. I’m going to have so many more things to ask him.




There will be no update next week. I have a commitment I can't avoid. But hopefully I will get time to make some spiffy art for the week after.

0 comments:

Post a Comment