Mauri's Relocation

The landing was rough. Mauri shook his wings in his tiny cage as the tires screeched on the ground. He let out his own high pitched skraaaaak in reply, and heard the kākāpō near him mumble similar disagreements from their cages too. How much longer would they be in here?

After the plane slowed to a halt, a familiar face appeared in front of Mauri’s cage.

Mauri had seen her many times before in the forest on their tiny island. She was usually clutching a camera or a notebook and following his tracks around and around the territory. Mauri didn’t mind this. She never got too close, and other than her loud camera, she was very quiet.

Until yesterday. Yesterday she had shown up and trapped him in this very cage! He had to wait all night from a small room while three more people brought in three more kākāpō, hooting their indignation. This morning they had been stuffed into this tiny plane and now Mauri knew in his bones that they were no longer on his little island.

He gave another shriek as his cage was lifted up and ferried to a small car. His neighbors called loudly to one another too.

“Where are we going?”

“Why did they take us?”

“When can we eat?”

Mauri didn’t reply. He was too angry with the humans. What was wrong with his island anyway? It had everything he loved: rimu and solitude. Where would he get those things now?

The four kākāpō jostled along as the car headed south.

It drove for a very long time and all the while his neighbors continued to complain.

Mauri was just wondering if he would have to tell them to shut up for a minute when the car suddenly stopped.

His cage was lifted and carried a great distance from the car before it was set down in a beautiful forest. Through the bars Mauri could smell Rimu and hear birds. His heart gave a small flutter. This seemed like a wonderful place.

Without warning, his door swung open. Mauri poked his head out and took a deep breath. The human who normally followed him around stood above him with a notebook. She took a few gentle steps back. Then she nodded at the forest.

Mauri took in his surroundings. He could hear other birds tittering from the tower of trees above him. Were they mocking him for being on the ground? That was fine, Mauri was very good at climbing trees, but he could prove that later.

He took several steps out of his cage and stretched his wings. Then several more. Soon, he had ambled completely into the bush where the forest enveloped him from every side. Supplejack vines and orchard tubers poked out of the ground, and he stopped to for the snack. In front of him, ripe rimu fruit presented themselves in such abundance that Mauri had to take a step back to absorb it all. What was this place? Mauri hoped he’d never have to leave.

—

Mauri had been in his new forest home for several months. He had a schedule now, and most mornings he even passed by what he knew to be a camera trap. But today he wasn’t looking for a camera, or even his normal delight of fruits and roots.

No, today, Mauri was looking for the perfect place to build his stage.

He ambled for hours into the brush to find the perfect place. He passed a few

takahē, their bright orange beaks in sharp contrast to their green-blue bodies. He passed a kiwi nest, where he knew a kiwi lay sleeping until it was ready to hunt after sundown. He thought he passed more than one kaka, but who could tell in all this brush? They blend in so well.

Mauri wasn’t afraid of these neighbors. Just like him, none of them could fly. But they also couldn’t help him with the task he set out for.

He finally stopped in a small, flat spit of earth stretched between three trees. He cocked his head, considering, and then decided. This was it.

Mauri began digging near the closet tree, where the trunk was lost in a thick of dense moss. It was the perfect place for his bowl. He thought about his three plane-mates who joined him in this sanctuary. All three of them were female, and he hoped at least one would find his space enticing enough to give him a chance. Distantly he knew that his bowl should be dug close to the bowls of the other males, but he hadn’t so much as seen another kākāpō since his arrival, much less another male. So he continued alone.

After some time, he left his bowl and began tracing several footpaths leading away from the bowl to better attract the females and help them find their way. It took him all afternoon and evening, but he looked over it happily just as night began to set in.

Once the sun was down, Mauri positioned himself properly in the bowl and, using the backdrop as am amplifier, let out several calls. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

For a moment he waited a breath. Then he made a high-pitched CHING to make sure everyone could hear him. He returned to his booming for the rest of the night.

Mauri knew it could take weeks for this to work, but on the third night he was rewarded. One of the females from the plane. She stopped at his footpath to assess him while he let out more calls.

“Hello,” he boomed. “I’m Mauri.”

“Hello Mauri,” she said. She stayed at the footpath. “I’m Marama.” She assessed the bowl. “I like your bowl. It makes you very loud.”

Mauri ruffled his feathers in appreciation.

They spent more time in this way, exchanging pleasantries. Mauri learned she had already raised several chicks successfully. Mauri had never been a father, but already Marama was a wonderful mother. Mauri was glad for this. The forest was too short on kākāpō so having a good mother was essential.

The two birds enjoyed the company of one another all night. And by morning, Marama knew she would be a wonderful mother once again.

—

Mauri lived in the forest sanctuary for many more years and every year more kākāpō joined him. Most came by plane, but when the fruiting season was bountiful, the population was able to transform itself, bird by bird, to higher numbers. Mauri loved roaming the forest, surrounded by his favorite foods and even occasionally seeing Marama and his own chicks. He was a very lucky kākāpō indeed.