Wildlife expert writes about colourful career

Willie Labuschagne is an internationally renowned conservationist who shares his hilarious tales of people and other animals in his latest book, Of Man and Beast.

This is an extract

On the Lighter Side of Things

Managing a zoo is riddled with unexpected events. Many of these often-challenging incidents stretch one’s managerial ability to the ultimate degree, as no textbook or academic qualification can prepare you for the unexpected.

These include a humongous number of events from day-to-day management to handling fatal accidents or ‘near misses’ – the headache of every zoo director.

But the one responsibility of being a zoo director which I enjoyed is the lighter side of things.

OSTRICH VERSUS EMU

I have always taken a great interest in the interaction between children and animals.

Children are incredibly sincere and creative, and I am often amazed by their keen observational skills.

Sometimes their reasoning is exceptionally clear and every so often they have an added touch of genuine humour. I recall one day when I was on zoo inspection (which happened every Friday), I overheard a discussion between three young boys as they squatted, elbows on their knees, watching an emu sitting on a cluster of eggs. As I approached one youngster pointed at the emu, saying, ‘Look Sir, the female ostrich is sitting on her eggs.’ I squatted down next to them and remarked that the bird wasn’t actually an ostrich but an emu, the Australian counterpart of the ostrich. I continued by telling them, ‘It is in fact not the female, but the male. Once the female has laid her final egg, the male takes over the responsibility of incubating the eggs. In many instances the female abandons the nest and the male is solely responsible for the task, never leaving the nest. The male stops eating and relies on stored body fat for the incubation period, which may last more than fifty days. After the eggs have hatched, the male is also responsible for rearing the chicks. From beginning to end, the male is the responsible one.’

The youngsters looked at me in total disbelief, until one little guy eventually said: ‘Gee-whiz … my dad would never do that.’

PEAFOWL BREEDING

One day at the Johannesburg Zoo I received a phone call from a lady wanting an explanation on how peafowl breed. (Peafowl are often commonly referred to as peacock, which is the male gender of the bird. The female gender is a peahen.) The question caught me by surprise and I asked her what exactly she meant? She explained with a hint of irritation: ‘I want to know how it happens that after the female has laid the eggs and incubated them, a number of chicks hatch – how is that possible?’ she exclaimed.

Still not understanding the question, I told her: ‘That is a basic fact of life. The birds and the bees story, or whatever you want to call it.’ Rather testily she again asked, ‘How is it possible for the female to produce fertile eggs?’ Thinking that I now understood the background of her query, I explained that both the hen (peahen) and cock (peacock) align their cloacae and fertilisation takes place by the male transferring his sperm to the hen. This process is also called the ‘cloaca kiss’ and takes a few seconds. A cloaca is the only opening that serves digestive, urinary and reproductive functions.

I also explained to the lady that many vertebrates possess a cloaca, including all amphibians, reptiles, birds and even some primitive mammals. Once the sperm enters the hen, it migrates to her uterus and fertilises her eggs. The fertilised eggs develop, which the female lays and incubates until the chicks hatch after approximately 30 days. Period. Over and out.

I quickly realised my mistake as she, in a rather snappish tone, accused me of being pornographic and that I should immediately stop my ‘sex talk’. She wholeheartedly believed that the male only fertilised the eggs after they had been laid and wanted to know how it is possible that he could do that without breaking the shell.

There are three species of peafowls: two Asiatic ones and the African Congo peafowl from the Congo basin. The peafowl has been given the title of being ‘The King of Birds’, and rightfully so, as the cock has earned the accolade of being the oldest ornamental bird in history dating back centuries.

Although endemic to India, where it has been declared the national bird, the peafowl has now been introduced almost worldwide.

Even King Solomon, King of Israel and Judah, imported peafowls 1000 years BC. They became popular in royal palaces and were soon integrated in civilisations, mythologies, cultures and religions. In Hinduism the peafowl is connected to Lord Karthikeya and the warrior goddess Kaumari and is also depicted alongside the goddess of Santoshi.

They play a significant role in Buddhist teachings as a symbol of immortality. In medieval Christianity they were considered to be immortal, as the cock shed but always replaced their feathers, thereby signalling eternal life.

The ancient Romans had other ideas and the peafowl soon became a desired delicacy, sometimes decorating the dinner table with their full plumage. One of the reasons why the peafowl is regarded as holy by many cultures and religions is the primeval myth that copulation between cock and hen never occurs.

As an acknowledgment of the peafowl’s holiness and a sign of purity, the supreme god, Lord Krishna, one of the most popular figures in Indian religion, is adorned with peacock feathers. The myth postulates that fertilisation of the hen is done by the peahen licking the tears off the peacock’s eyes. This claim has recently been reinforced by a retired judge from the Indian High Court when he announced that India’s national bird ‘does not engage in sex to reproduce’. The issue is exacerbated by the fact that actual copulation is rarely seen and takes only a few seconds.

Back to my caller. I assumed that the lady had heard the ancient myth. Although she may have discarded the myth of licking the tears, she still wanted to know how the hen can produce fertile eggs. To ease her mood and maintain the credibility of the zoo, I told her: ‘Actually I, too, do not know. I assume it happens at night when no one can see him because even to this day it remains a secret.’ She was satisfied and I like to think she was smiling on the other end of the line and when sharing my explanation of peafowl breeding, which I asked her to keep secret.

Of Man and Beast: Further reflections on a life lived with animals by Willie Labuschagne. Published by Tracey McDonald Publishers. Available online and in all good book stores.