I stumbled into a wild kiwi!!!
On my last day of hiking through the forests of Stewart Island.
I was into the last hour of the track. I'd been making good time since the hut. Most of my food was gone- I'd finished the last of my bread for breakfast, leaving me with a couple of cereal bars and an old bag a gummy bears. I needed to get back for lunch, preferably for some of the Kai Kart's beautiful, fresh, fish n chips. I was steaming along. The last to leave the hut, again, I wasn't due to be the last to reach Oban. I kept passing small groups with each kilometre. 5 hours to get to Obam? Nah, I can do it in 3. The route is relatively flat, and much of it is quite straight, if muddy.
Minding my own business, just thinking of stuff, trundling along... then something brown ran off the track and into the bush.
This area was straight for 200 yards. If I'd been looking at the track I'd have seen it long ago. Yet clearly neither of us was concentrating- we'd been a few feet from one another.
And there she was, under a log. I whistled a couple of bird calls- I've been using that trick a few times here, to make the birds think it's safe. Make it sound as though someone else has been brave enough to be the first to emerge after this strange man appeared.
The she began to look around at the ground. She started prodding her beak into the ground, sniffing for insects in the muddy ground. In truth, at first, I'd wondered if she was a Weka- I've seen plenty of them, and they've a similar size, shape, and colour to a kiwi. But not the nose, they're smart and adaptable, but not so specialised as a kiwi (maybe why there's so many of them), scratching at the ground like a chicken in search of grubs. Once I saw this behaviour from the dark silhouette under the fallen tree I finally knew I was seeing my first wild kiwi.
Becoming more confident she emerged, as I filmed, from under the tree, prodding around for her lunch. Occasionally she would toss her head back, swallowing a delicious find with glee, before returning to the hunt.
Yet as she moved there was something wrong.
The first kiwi I ever saw was in Wellington zoo. Here they have a kiwi that only has one leg. He hops around in a manner that still worries me (he deserves a prosthetic), foraging in his enclosure as the public watch.
Equally I've seen lame chicken and ducks, even treating a few.
My kiwi was walking in a similar manner. Her right foot was swollen and she wasn't putting weight on it properly. Above the swelling was a small metal ring- an ID ring, evidently made too small for her eventual large size. She was quite big for a kiwi.
I would later go and tell the Department of Conservation officers. Next week there's a team coming in to look at the local population and treat any as necessary. Having a rough idea of were she was, and being territorial, it shouldn't be too hard for them to pick her up in the nearby area.
She looked to be eating well and was still getting about on the foot so I'm not too concerned, DoC will sort her out.
(NB- normally seeing a naturally nocturnal animal, such as a kiwi, in the day time, means it's in real trouble. Yet on Stewart Island they frequently come out during the day, particularly after heavy rain when the ground is soft and the insects are more active. It a feeding frenzy and they're not energy going to let the sun stop them!)
As time went by she happily carried on eating from a fruitful patch of leaf litter. In my view, however, along the path, appeared a number of my fellow walkers, from either direction. Thank goodness the path was straight here. I quietly waved my hands, put a finger to my lips, mouthed 'Kiwi', before pointing to the little brown fluffy volley ball rustling through the undergrowth.
Getting the message each party gathered cameras from pockets quickly but quietly, tip toeing towards me smiling. Muted gasps followed before cameras were raised and shots taken. Everyone was quiet, slow, and no one used a flash- we were all on our best behaviour to keep the little delight amongst us. She look it all in her hobbling stride, mooching about, scouring the mud for more crunchy snacks. We all shifted as she moved, no one wanting to leave. The group had grown to 11 people all staring in amazement.
Eventually she wandered off into the forest, though not with much grace. A fallen sapling of many branches barred her way. She took a leap at it, attempting to get through the branches. Most of her made it. But not the giant feet. They were lodged for a moment and wiggled, reminding me Yoda jumping head first into Luke Skywalker's supplies the first time they meet, or when the chickens get sent head first into something in Chicken Run. She wiggled through and went off on her way to see what else the damp weather had brought up.
