Andrew Mathieson
A LONG-time belief up north that foxes were killing off the indigenous Mallee fowl has been dispelled.
That’s not to say foxes aren’t a menace, points out New-town’s Ann Stokie.
“Foxes did not appear to be the threat we thought they were,” she reveals.
“Certain foxes eat Mallee fowl – there’s no doubt about that.
“But, then again, rhinoceros eat antelopes too and there are still antelopes around.
“You’ve got to have some balance between the predator and the prey.”
Men in lab coats haven’t entirely uncovered such research about the Mallee fowl.
Not for a number of years since government cuts ended Dr Joe Benshemesh’s diligent monitoring of the bird.
Rather it’s been a hearty band of bush lovers that has kept his life’s work alive and kicking.
Ann and husband Peter helped establish Victorian Mallee Fowl Recovery Group in 2000 from little more than a dozen volunteers whose ranks have now swollen to nearly 100.
The Stokies, two retired high school teachers, and Geelong friends Ralph and Wendy Patford regularly trek up to the North Central plains near Wedderburn during the warmer months.
“People may ask what are these people doing, chasing these birds all over the Mallee – that’s a fair question,” Ann ponders.
They walk around in search of breeding grounds with a hand-held data-gathering palm pilot linked to the same GPS that gives motorists directions around busy suburban streets.
Compasses were once the tools of choice not too long ago, Ann remembers.
Back then Mallee fowl sites were grided every 50 metres with a red reflector and walking monitors had a tough time turning off the line past tree bushes to find mounds in the searing heat.
“You had to count your footsteps all the time because it’s very hard to find any significant landmarks,” Anne recounts.
“Even Major Mitchell got lost out there, so it’s dangerous country to be in.”
The Mallee fowls dig up mounds and fills them with a combination of bark and sand, although Ann notes that birds on South Australia’s Eyre Peninsula coastline have adapted to using sea shells instead.
The mounds need to turn soft and compost to incubate the eggs to work.
Integral to the species’ survival, farmers are not the only ones that have been cursing the drought.
“No water and they don’t breed,” Ann exclaims.
“What’s more, if you look at the rainfall in those places, sure, there has been a drought for the past 10 years but the usually dramatic winter rain has been no support – there’s even less in the winter now.”
The urban conservationist, sitting in front of a log fire at home, pulls out a detailed map and points to the Mallee fowls’ past tracks.
Originally they were first found east of Bendigo but Ann talks of a time when the bird was breeding in the Brisbane Ranges near Anakie.
“That was a long time ago, probably the 1890s,” she reflects
“There’s been an anecdotal report but there’s definitely Mallee vegetation in the Brisbane Ranges.”
Again, low rainfall and poor soil killed off the birds off in the area, Ann adds.
A small clan has since been sighted southward close to Bacchus Marsh.
Boasting as much knowledge as any scientific boffin, Ann laughs off suggestions retirement will be spent obsessing on the Mallee fowl.
“I think it’s silly to be a megalomaniac about one species,” she says.
“It’s so silly people talking about koalas, who talk about seeing the poor thing starving to death and there are people who go silly about the kangaroo cull.
“Well, I’m pretty passionate just about the bush because I love region parrots and they’re indigenous too.”