The Confessions of a BeachcomberBanfield, E. J. (Edmund James)
History
The Confessions of a Beachcomber
Banfield, E. J. (Edmund James)
Dunk Island (Qld.); Natural history -- Australia -- Queensland
Twenty or thirty may be peering about in a bloodwood, and with a
unanimous impulse and a call in unison they slip through the forest, and
shoot into the jungle, flashing sun-glints. Eager, alert, always under
high pressure, the business of the moment brooks of no delay. The flocks
come and go between the home and the feeding-ground with noisy
exclamations and impetuous haste. With whirr of wings and jeering notes
they swoop close overhead, wheeling into the wilderness of leaves with
the rapidity of thought, and with such graceful precision that the
sunlight flashes from their shoulders as an arc of light. Work, hasty
work, is a necessity, for their wastefulness is extreme, or, rather, do
they not unconsciously perform a double duty, being chief among the
distributing agents--industrious and trustworthy though unchartered
carders for many helpless trees. When the company darts again out of the
jungle, each with a berry in its bill and each shrilly exulting, many a
load is dropped by the way, and many another falls to mother earth in the
act of feeding the clamorous young. Berries and seeds having no means of
self-transportation are thus borne far from parent trees to vegetate in
sweet unencumbered soil. Other birds take part in this generous
dispersal, but none engage in it so systematically or so openly.
Beneath the tree which is the head centre of the colony is a carpet of
debris several inches thick. Old and discarded nests, fragments of unused
building materials, the nutmeg with its lacing of coral-red mace, the
blue quandong, the remains of various species of figs, hard berries,
chillies, degenerated tomatoes, the harsh seed-vessels of the
umbrella-tree, samples of every fruit and berry of attractive appearance,
however hot and acrid, all go to form a mulching of vegetable matter such
as no other tree of forest or jungle gets. Prodigal and profuse as she
may be, Nature is the rarest of economists. Out here in the forest is
springing up an oasis of jungle, every plant of which owes its origin to
the shining calornis.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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