Kо̄lea: The Story of the Pacific Golden Plover 9780824844950

The Kolea (Pacific Golden Plover) leads a double life. From May to August it nests and raises its young on Alaska's

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Kо̄lea: The Story of the Pacific Golden Plover
 9780824844950

Table of contents :
Introduction
Information about Kōlea
Glossary
About the Author
About the Illustrator

Citation preview

KOLEA

The Story of

Marion Codte Illustrated by Fred E. Salmon,

the Pacific Go id en Plover ® A Kolowalu Book University of Hawaii P/YM Honolulu

Jr.

Thanks to Mandy Bowers, Phillip Bruner, Peter Connors, Dick Cunningham, Dr. 0. W. Johnson, Kathy Ratliffe, Sigrid Southwaite, Alice Terada, Gerda Turner, LoriM. Ward, and Jeanne Wilson for their help in bringing this book into existence.

Text copyright © 1998 Marion Coste Illustrations copyright © 1998 Fred E. Salmon, Jr. All rights reserved Printed in Singapore 03

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kolea: the story of the Pacific golden plover / Marion Coste: illustrated by Fred E. Salmon, Jr. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references (p. ). Summary: Describes the physical characteristics, migration, and life cycle of the Kolea or Pacific golden plover, which spends part of its year on the tundra of western Alaska and the remaining months in Hawaii. ISBN 0 - 8 2 4 8 - 1 9 6 1 - 6 (alk. paper)

1. Golden plovers—Juvenile literature. [1. Golden plovers. 2. Plovers.] I. Salmon, Fred E., ill. II. Title. QL696.C43C67

1998

598.33—dc2i

98-7673

CIP AC University of Hawai'i Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Council on Library Resources. Design by Barbara Pope Book Design

For the children of Hawaii, who hold the future of the Iélandé in their hanch and heartJ.

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uiet in the grass, the Kolea watches the scientist tramp across the Alaskan tundra. A cool June breeze brushes the treeless plain and

ruffles the Kolea's feathers. The man is far away, but coming closer. The Kolea looks down at his nest. Four eggs lie in the bottom, two with cracked shells. Soft peeping sounds come from inside. Soon the chicks will be out. The man stops and shifts his heavy camera bag, then turns toward the nest. The Kolea watches him step over clumps of grass and splash through trickles of ice-cold water. The Kolea pumps his neck up and down. Time to act. The bird puts his head down and runs away from the nest. After a short distance, he hops on a rock. Standing tall, he calls loudly, "Keeee!" The scientist turns to look at the bird. The Kolea sticks out his black chest and looks straight at the intruder. "Keeweet!" The man pulls out his camera and starts toward the bird. The Kolea jumps off the rock and runs through the grass, long legs carrying him quickly away. The man stops and looks from side to side. "Feeb!" The Kolea stands on a little hill. He is farther from the nest. He holds out his wings and bobs his head. The man stops and turns again. He raises the camera slowly. Again, the Kolea disappears into the grass. Calling and hiding, the Kolea leads the man across the tundra. When they are far from the nest, the Kolea lifts long, slender wings and flies away. The scientist watches him go, shading his eyes with one hand. He waits hopefully for a minute, then puts his camera back in its bag and walks off across the tundra.

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The Kolea flies in a wide circle and lands a safe distance from his nest. Folding his wings, he looks out across the plain. Bright blossoms nod in the breeze, but nothing else moves. Satisfied that danger is past, the Kolea walks back to his nest. One eggshell has a hole in its side. The female Kolea, who has been hunting nearby, flies in. Both parents hover nearby as the hatching continues, pacing and calling. Before long, a wet chick lies in the bottom of the nest. It looks small and weak, its head too big for its thin little neck. Father Kolea picks up the broken shells and carries them away. Mother Kolea climbs on the nest and covers the chick and eggs with her warm body. Through the short night, the Kolea stay near their eggs. The morning sun shines down on four hatched chicks. The first chick is dry, fluffy, and ready to leave the nest. As soon as all the chicks are dry, the Kolea family leaves the nesting area. For the first three weeks, while the chicks are very small, the family stays together. In this part of Alaska the summer sun barely sets, and the night is not completely dark. The Kolea can hunt all day and all night. The chicks learn to watch for insects moving in the grass, then dart to catch them. When they are tired or cold, they peep, and a parent lets the young chicks creep under its feathers. Mother and father Kolea protect their chicks from danger. Foxes and ground squirrels prowl the tundra for food, and hungry hawks, owls, and jaegers search overhead.

One late afternoon, a shadow skims the ground. "Feeeeb!" cries mother Kolea. The chicks and father Kolea instantly crouch down. The chicks' down looks so much like the ground that the babies seem to disappear. High overhead a hawk glides silently, looking down for anything that moves. The Kolea hold perfectly still. Out of the corner of one yellow eye, the hawk sees a lemming scurry through the grass. The hunter swoops down, legs outstretched, and rises with the helpless lemming clutched in her talons. The Kolea family stays crouched a moment longer, then gets up. With a ruffling of feathers, they

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go back to their hunt. The chicks grow quickly. When they are about three weeks old, they can fly. As soon as the chicks can survive on their own, the family splits up. Each Kolea goes its own way. They may never see each other again. As the northern summer ends, the sun drops farther below the horizon at night, and the days are shorter. Cold winds blow. Frost crusts the tundra in the mornings. The small creatures who live in the grass and mud hide away for the coming winter. The Kolea find it harder and harder to catch food. They are changing, too. They have lost some of their black and white feathers and are beginning to show the brown and gold of winter. During the chilly days of August, all the Kolea leave the tundra. They fly to the seashore, where rocks protect them from the bitter winds and they find food along the ocean's edge. The Kolea mix with other birds gathering along the shoreline, all preparing to escape the Arctic winter.

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One cold, foggy morning, a few adults circle upward. They spiral higher and higher, then drop back down to earth. A little later, they go up and down again. Finally, late in the afternoon, the birds fly up one more time. This time, they don't come down, but turn and fly toward the open sea. They head away, dwindling to small black specks against the slate-gray sky. Now begins an incredible journey across a fearsome ocean. The Kolea pit their slender wings and small bodies against gusting winds and changing weather to travel to a warmer winter home. The trip they make seems far too long, far too hard, and far too dangerous for such a light and fragile creature. For the Kolea, this amazing flight is simply part of life. The pull of instinct and the need for food carry them across the sea. But people who see these birds fly off and return months later are filled with wonder. How do Kolea find their way across the trackless ocean? What signs and clues do they follow? Do they carry some kind of map inside their heads? Do they feel the magnetic tug of the earth, or are the stars or sun their guides? The Kolea's knowledge is a mystery to humans. The Kolea fly across the ocean hour after hour. They continue through sunset and moonrise, wings beating without letup. Kolea cannot glide on the wind or rest on the water. If they stop moving their wings, they plunge into the churning sea. The stars appear and fade into the dawn. Still the birds fly on. No chance to rest or eat or drink. The sun rises, moves across the sky, and sets again. For one more night and day the Kolea keep up their constant flight. At last, clouds on the horizon promise land below. The long flight is over. The flock breaks up as birds turn off toward different islands. Some circle down to Kaua'i. Others fly on to Moloka'i, O'ahu, Maui, Lana'i, and Hawai'i.

For the past four winters, father Kolea's winter home has been a beachfront golf driving range. His territory also shelters small lizards, earwigs, and cockroaches. Although mongooses and feral cats prowl nearby, father Kolea doesn't worry—he is too alert to be surprised by them. He stays clear of people and their noisy cars. This year, when father Kolea lands on his territory, another Kolea is already there. Father Kolea stares at the new bird. The other Kolea pecks at the ground, pretending to eat. Father Kolea bobs his head and paces back and forth, calling loudly, then he sticks out his sharp beak and rushes toward the other bird. Almost on top of him, father Kolea stops and lifts his wings, back feathers raised. The other Kolea crouches, wings open. For a long moment, both birds are still. Then the new bird flies off. Father Kdlea keeps his home. Tn Alaska, the days are shorter and much colder; the nights chill and damp. With aH the adults gone, the young Kolea take care of themselves, picking across the rocky beaches for food washed up by waves. At night they crouch in groups, seeking shelter from the wind.

One September morning, some youngsters fly upward, circling. Later that day, they rise again and leave the shelter of the shoreline. Like the adult Kolea, the grown chicks head south for warmth and food. The young Kolea have never been away from their Alaskan birthplace. Yet, without anyone to help or guide them, they cross nearly three thousand miles of open ocean to islands that seem as small as pinpoints in the middle of the sea. How do they do it? What invisible paths do they follow? Are they born knowing where and when to go? Do they know they can neither glide nor rest? What tells them to eat and store energy for the long trip? After a day of flying, one of the grown chicks, not as big as most, grows tired. The vast ocean stretches below. Trying to keep up, the exhausted youngster sinks lower and lower. He skims just above the restless waves, then drops into the dark water. The rest of the birds fly on. Before they reach Hawai'i, other young birds tire and fall into the unforgiving sea. The ragged flock of young Kolea that finally lands in Hawai'i is smaller than the one that left Alaska two days before.

The small Northwestern isles are crowded with birds. The new arrivals find no place to feed and rest. Some of the young Kolea, weak and hungry after their long trip, can go no farther. Chased off the feeding grounds by stronger birds, they starve. Others rest a while, then fly on to other islands. Each young Kolea finds its own place to live. One chooses a lawn. Another settles on a school playground, another near a beach cabin. Some Kolea don't choose a territory, but roam from place to place to feed.

Father Kolea is watchful on his driving-range home. During the day, he rests and preens his feathers and hunts for food. If something gets too close, he flies to a nearby rooftop until the threat is gone. At night, he goes to a small rocky island just offshore. Other Kolea sleep there too. They roost restlessly, uneasy in a group. One night a silent owl swoops down and grabs a sleeping Kolea. The other Kolea wake in alarm and scramble into the air, calling loudly. Too late. The owl is gone with his catch. The Kolea settle back on the rocks.

Father Kolea grows fat as the winter weeks pass. In early spring, he slowly drops his brown and gold feathers and new feathers grow in, bright black and white. One April day he leaves his driving range. He flies to the north edge of the island. Other Kolea are there. Does father Kolea see last summer's mate or chicks? We have no way to know. One late afternoon, a group of birds passes high overhead. Father Kolea and the others fly up to join them. They blend into a ragged line and move away northeast, high above the clouds. The Kolea are on their way back to Alaska, to the breeding grounds. For the second time this year, the Kolea fly nonstop across the ocean. This trip is harder than the August flight, for now the birds head directly into winds and spring storms.

Father Kolea flies across the tundra to find his nest. Patches of ice and snow glimmer in the pale May sunlight. Insects and other small tundra creatures are not yet out of their winter hideaways. For a while, food is scarce. Father Kolea eats seeds and berries to survive. When the snow is gone, father Kolea finds last year's nest broken and scattered. Maybe reindeer walked across it during the winter, or a grizzly bear scratched it apart, searching for food. Father Kolea scrapes a shallow bowl in the ground near the old nest. He pulls moss and lichens from the rocks and works them into the bowl. When he's finished, his new nest looks just like the ground around it. A female Kolea flies by. Father Kolea quickly takes off, calling "Kee-er-wee, kee-er-wee." He catches up to the female and together they swing in a wide turn with slow, sweeping wingbeats. They whistle as they drop to the ground, wings upright in a "V." The female steps into the nest and sits down. Father Kolea turns and bows, showing his white undertail feathers. The female gets out of the nest and walks a little way off. Father Kolea hurries after her, calling "Pk, pk, pk." He bows again, feathers puffed. This time, the female stays. Soon the nest holds four mottled eggs. They look like pebbles lying in the moss. Father Kolea tends the nest during the day while mother Kolea goes off to hunt. At night, she sits while father Kolea eats. When they are on the nest, the Kolea are very hard to see. As their bodies warm the eggs, alert black eyes watch for danger. Around the nesting Kolea, the tundra wakes to summer warmth. Bright arctic flowers open to the sun, and the buzz of insects fills the air. Busy with the chores of parenthood, the Kolea enter another season of birth and growth, weaving again the threads of life that join two different worlds.

Information about Kolea Scientific name: Pluvialis fulva C o m m o n name: Pacific Golden Plover

Description The Kolea is a black-eyed shorebird with long, thin, gray-black legs and a sharp black bill. A full-grown adult stands just under twelve inches tall and has a wingspan of almost fifteen inches. When not fattening up to migrate, it weighs three and one-half to five ounces. The Kolea looks so different in summer and winter it seems like two separate birds. Before it leaves Alaska in August, the Kolea begins to molt, losing its black and white summer feathers. By late October, its back is brownish gray flecked with gold. Its belly is white; the underparts are yellowish streaked with brown. In winter, male and female look very much alike. Starting in late February, the Kolea molts again. This time, rich breeding colors replace its brown and gold winter plumage. By the time he leaves the islands in April, the male Kolea is mostly black, his back spotted white and golden brown. A bright white band runs over his forehead and down both sides of his neck to his chest. His belly and underparts are black except for white feathers just under his tail. The female has the same markings, but the line around her face and neck is yellowish, and her black face and underparts are mottled with lighter feathers. Kolea chicks have soft yellow down spotted with black. When they are about two weeks old, they begin to lose their fuzzy down and grow brown and gold adult feathers. The strong new flight feathers on their wings will last for three trips across the sea before they are molted.

Kolea "talk" to each other all the time. They make whistling, piping, or chattering noises to sound alarms, make threats, or call for help. Adult Kdlea use soft calls for brooding and feeding and use a special trilling call when looking for a mate. Breeding adults call to each other often, and when chicks appear, there is constant calling between parents and their young.

Habitat Kolea are living links between two different ecosystems. From May until August, they mate, nest, and care for their young on the tundra of western Alaska. In August, they fly to Hawai'i and spend the winter months in a tropical island climate. Alaska: On the tundra, a treeless plain near the Arctic Circle, Kolea make their nests on the ground. Beneath the surface, the tundra stays frozen all the time, but in summer, the ground thaws enough for grass, moss, lichens, wildflowers, and some small bushes to grow. The summer tundra is rich with life. Insects and small invertebrates thrive. Ground squirrels, lemmings, and weasels scurry through the rocks and grasses, and larger animals such as reindeer, musk oxen, caribou, arctic foxes, and grizzly bears roam freely. The short tundra summer is damp, windy, and often foggy. The temperature usually stays between 40 and 50 degrees Fahrenheit. In western Alaska, where most Hawai'i Kolea breed, summer days are long. Nights are not completely dark. Around midnight, the sun dips just below the horizon and twilight covers the land until the sun rises again around 4A.M. Hawai'i: Winter in Hawai'i is warm. The temperature (except in the mountains) is usually between 60 and 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The land ranges from steep mountains to grassy plains, marshes, sandy beaches, and hot, dry lava fields. Although many people live on the major islands of Kaua'i, O'ahu, Moloka'i, Maui,

Lana'i, and Hawai'i, the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands have very few people except for fishermen, a few military personnel, and scientists. In 1996, tourist groups began visiting tiny Midway Island, once a U.S. Navy base, to see the birds, sea turtles, and monk seals that live there. In Hawai'i, Kolea live anywhere they find open, grassy areas, from lowlands to 10,000 feet above sea level. Some choose lawns or golf courses, others live on pastures, marshes, or cutover sugarcane fields. Still others live on borders of airport runways, parks, soccer fields, playgrounds, even highway median strips. At night, some Kolea leave their territories and gather with other Kolea to sleep on flat rooftops or small offshore islands. They do not like to be too near each other—even to sleep—and often "argue" about space.

Food Kolea eat insects and other small creatures. When they can't get these animals, they will eat leaves and berries for a short time. In Alaska, for instance, they may feed on lingonberries until the snow melts and insects come out. They also eat buttercup seeds and some kinds of tundra flowers. The Alaskan tundra is like a Kolea buffet. It offers mud beetles, fly larvae, caterpillars, weevils, crane flies, spiders, and many other smaller plant-eating animals. Along the ocean, Kolea feed on small shellfish washed up by waves. In Hawai'i, the Kolea's diet changes. They eat small creatures like beetles, cockroaches, flies, and earwigs, and once in a while, flowers and leaves. In the marshes and at the beaches, they hunt small animals in the sand or mud. Sometimes, K5lea eat cooked rice and bread people put out, but a steady diet of "people food" is not good for them. Kolea hunt by sight. They walk slowly through the grass or stand quietly until they see prey move. Then they dash and grab it with their sharp beaks.

Nesting and Breeding Scientists used to think Kolea nests were simple scrapes in the ground, covered with moss. When they took one apart, they changed their minds. They discovered the male Kolea builds his nest carefully and neatly, perhaps weaving in as many as 250 different pieces of moss or lichen. Sometimes he even puts in flower blossoms. When the nest is finished, it looks very much like the ground around it. The male Kdlea returns to the same nesting area year after year. Once in a while, the same pair will mate more than one season, but usually females find new mates every year. After mating in early June, the female lays an egg every other day until she has four in the nest. The male and female Kolea take turns brooding the eggs. The male usually sits on the nest during the day, and the female takes care of the eggs at night. If an intruder comes near, the sitting bird calls and leaves the nest. The parent tries to lead predators away, but it is not afraid to attack an animal that threatens the eggs or chicks, even an arctic fox. While the eggs are hatching, both parents stay near the nest. The eggs are about two inches long and one and one-fourth inches wide. They look like pebbles lying in the nest. Their grayish-white color is the same as lichens, and the shells' dark blotches look like dirt. The eggs and nest are very hard to see. Scientists studying the Kolea have to follow the birds carefully to find their nests.

Care of the Young Kolea incubate their eggs for twenty-three to thirty days. If they are left alone a lot in the cool air, eggs take longer to hatch. In early July, cracks appear in the shells, and peeping sounds come from inside. It may take more than a full day for the chicks to peck their way out, or the eggs may all hatch in a few hours. For the first few hours after hatching, the babies lie helpless in the nest. Wet down sticks to their skin, and their heads seem too big for their bodies. As soon as their down dries, chicks become active. They explore outside the nest but come back to their parents to hide or get warm. They make peeping noises to let the parents know where they are. Kolea parents protect their chicks well, but never have to feed them. The babies are able to find their own food as soon as they are out of the nest. When the chicks are about three weeks old, in mid-July, they begin to fly. The family may separate after that, each bird going its own way. In late August, the adults go back to Hawai'i, leaving the young birds to feed and grow for another month before they, too, make the long trip south.

Adaptations The way Kolea look and act helps them survive in both their worlds. The colors of their feathers give them camouflage. In Hawai'i, their brown and gold winter plumage blends into grassy areas. When they stand still, they are very hard to see. In their Alaskan habitat, Kolea's summer colors help protect them from predators. The white stripe across its black head and neck hides its eyes and breaks up the bird's body outline. Predators looking across the tundra cannot pick a Kolea out of the background. Hawks or falcons searching from the sky have trouble finding Kolea because their dark body feathers make the crouching birds look like flat shadows on the ground. The colors of the nest, eggs, and chicks blend into the tundra, making them seem invisible. When danger threatens from the air, Kolea "freeze" and depend on their camouflage to save them. Even very young chicks crouch and stay absolutely still. If a threat appears on the ground, the birds become excited and call repeatedly. A Kolea may lead predators away from its nest with a kind of hide-and-seek

behavior. It crouches and runs from the nest, then shows itself. When the predator approaches, the bird runs farther away and shows itself again, luring the predator farther and farther from the nest. Sometimes a Kolea may pretend to have a broken wing, dragging itself pitifully in front of a predator. The bird stays just out of reach as it draws the predator away from the nest. Kolea will fight when they have to, usually to chase away other birds and animals from their territories. They may stare at the intruder, pace back and forth, then rush toward it. If the intruder doesn't leave, Kolea will attack with wing, claw, and beak and even carry the battle into the air. When not nesting and brooding, Kolea like to live alone. Most Kolea living in Hawai'i, both male and female, set up territories. A Kolea's territory can be big: up to two thousand square yards (half a football field). Some Kolea don't settle in territories. They gather in loose flocks and fly from place to place to feed. Even in their flocks, they don't get too close to each other. Do Kolea still need territories to survive in Hawai'i? In ancient times, when forests covered most of the land, Kolea had a hard time finding grassy feeding areas. When a K5lea found a good feeding space, it would take it over and keep other birds and animals away. In this way, the Kolea made sure it had enough food. As people developed more and more of the Islands, building farms, golf courses, playgrounds, parks, airports, lawns, sports fields, and highways, grassy spaces became more plentiful. Kolea no longer have trouble finding feeding areas. Are Kolea slowly changing their way of life as they adapt to changes in their Hawaiian habitat?

Migration Each April, almost all Kolea leave Hawai'i and fly twenty-seven hundred miles across open ocean to Alaska to breed. In August, their chicks grown, they fly back to Hawai'i. Fossil clues tell us Kolea have been making this migration flight for at least 120,000 years. How the Kolea find their way is a mystery. Perhaps they use the magnetic forces of the earth. Perhaps they are born with a kind of star map in their heads. Or they might steer by the sun. Scientists think that someday satellites can be used

to track the flight of the Kolea. When a transmitter small and light enough is developed, Kolea can carry it as they fly. Maybe then scientists will be able to unlock some of the Kolea's secrets. A few weeks before they make their

flight

between Hawai'i and Alaska, Kolea begin to eat a lot. By the time they migrate, they weigh seven to ten ounces, almost twice their normal weight. The added fat gives Kolea enough energy to make the long journey. On the northern flight, the fat also helps them stay warm in the cold Alaskan climate and gives them energy to live on until the tundra insects hatch. Kolea can fly as fast as sixty-five miles per hour and may go as high as 20,000 feet. They use a huge amount of energy during the migration flight. They beat their wings two times per second for almost fifty hours. Kolea are not able to glide or land on water, and they do not eat or drink while flying. In late summer, young Kolea, called juveniles, stay behind in Alaska for a month after the adults leave. They eat steadily to put on fat for their first flight to Hawai'i. If they are not able to gain enough weight, they can't fly far enough. Scientists think many juvenile Kolea tire during their first long flight and fall into the sea. In September, the juveniles leave Alaska and fly to Hawai'i on their own, without any help from adult birds. How the young Kolea make this amazing flight is a mystery. Each summer, a few Kolea stay in Hawai'i instead of going to Alaska. Scientists are not sure why. Maybe they haven't been able to gain enough weight or

aren't strong enough to fly so far. Most of the time, these "over-summering" Kolea do not completely change their colors. Kolea is only one type of plover. There are other species that live in Asia, Europe, and mainland America. Most plovers migrate from northern summer breeding grounds to warmer southern winter homes. Some make even longer flights than Hawai'i's Kolea. Some Pacific Golden Plovers, for instance, summer in Alaska and fly all the way to New Zealand for the winter, a distance of more than five thousand miles. History People in Hawai'i have been fascinated by Kolea for hundreds of years. Kolea stories are woven through island history, legends, and folklore. In ancient times, before Hawai'i was discovered, South Pacific islanders watched Kolea fly north in spring and return in late summer, followed later by their young. Because they never saw Kolea eggs or chicks, Polynesian voyagers realized the birds went to some unknown northern land to breed. Did the Kolea encourage the voyagers to sail in search of new lands? Early Hawaiians knew the life cycle of the Kolea held many secrets. If something were impossible to reach, the Hawaiians would say it was like the Kolea's egg: " 'O ka hua o ke Kolea aia i kahiki (The egg of the Kolea is laid in a foreign land)." In a few ancient legends, Kolea were messengers of the gods. Some Hawaiians had Kolea as their 'aumakua, their guardian spirit. The famous explorer Captain Cook noticed Kolea on all his voyages. Near Tahiti and Java in 1773, ship scientists took specimens of Kolea, and artists sketched pictures. These birds looked, they wrote, "exactly like our English golden plover." They did not know they were seeing a new species. Later, in the Arctic, Captain Cook watched Kolea fly south and wondered if they were the same birds he had seen in the South Pacific. In his journal, he wrote, "Does not this indicate that there

must be land to the North . . . ?" Did the Kolea confirm Captain Cook's belief that he would find new lands as he explored uncharted waters? In modern Hawai'i, some folk sayings reflect Kolea's habits. A visitor, for instance, who comes for dinner, eats everything in sight, then leaves, may be called a Kolea. Some people say that if you hear a Kolea call and see one fly across your yard, you will have visitors. Human Impact In Alaska, Eskimos have known Kolea for hundreds of years. Their word for Kolea is "dureck" or "tuzhek." Other than Eskimos, very few people live in Kolea's habitat. The tundra is a fragile environment, damaged when anything disturbs the surface and causes the frozen underground to thaw. If the tundra is destroyed, Kolea and many other species of birds, insects, and mammals will lose their breeding and feeding grounds. In Hawai'i, Kolea live in the midst of many people. It is one of Hawai'i's few native animals not endangered by humans. In fact, humans have made life easier for Kolea in Hawai'i. Kolea need open areas with low grass. Before people came to the Hawaiian Islands, forests covered much of the land. When people burned or cut away the forests, Kolea found new places to live. Now they thrive on golf courses, parks, graveyards, airports, and playgrounds. Even though people have helped Kolea gain living space in Hawai'i, they have caused trouble for the birds in other ways. People brought many new animals to the Islands. Some of these new species, like the mynah, eat the same foods as Kolea and compete for the same feeding grounds. People also brought cats, rats, and a new species of owl to the Islands—night hunters who prey on sleeping KSlea. Kolea are too alert to be captured by daylight hunters, such as mongooses and dogs. Early Hawaiians discovered Kolea were good to eat, and they hunted the birds

with snares and nets. Sometimes, Hawaiians used K5lea feathers to make kahili and cloaks. Europeans who came to the Islands hunted with guns, and by the late 1800s, Kolea were shot for sport as well as food. Fancy dinners often had Kolea on the menu.

Protection In 1909, President Theodore Roosevelt set aside the Hawai'i Islands Bird Reservation to protect the birds of the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. This area later became known as the Hawai'i National Wildlife Refuge and today includes all the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. In this refuge, where many Kolea live, birds cannot be hunted or bothered. Today, both Alaska and Hawai'i have laws that forbid hunting Kolea. Scientists don't know how many Kolea live in the wild, so they can't tell if the population is growing or shrinking. Research is needed to see how changes in their habitats affect Kolea, or if the use of pesticides and chemicals harms them. People in modern Hawai'i like to have Kolea living near. The birds are very good bug-catchers. Some people put out rice and bread, hoping Kolea will come and feed on their land. Kolea are so popular in Hawai'i their yearly comings and goings are even reported in the newspapers.

To Read More about Kolea: Call of Kolea, Maura O'Connor. Honolulu: Moanalua Gardens Foundation, 1992. Flight of the Golden Plover, Debbie S. Miller. Anchorage: Alaska Northwest Books, 1996. Native Animals of Hawai'i Coloring Book, Patrick Ching. Honolulu: Bess Press, 1988.

Glojjary adaptation change in an animal's body structure or behavior that enables it to survive brood sit on and hatch or protect eggs camouflage the color (and sometimes behavior) of an animal that enables it to blend into its surroundings Captain Cook an English sea captain who explored the Pacific Ocean in three voyages between 1768 and 1779 down soft, fine feathers ecosystem the interaction of all living and nonliving things that exist in a certain environment feral wild glide to fly through the air with little or no wing movement habitat the area in which an animal lives and can find all it needs to survive incubate to keep eggs warm or safe until they hatch invertebrate an animal without a backbone jaeger (JAY-grr) an arctic seabird that preys on the eggs, chicks, and adult Kolea; jaegers often steal prey from other birds kahili long poles with feathers fastened to the top, symbolic of Hawaiian royalty lemming a small, mouselike mammal with furry feet

lichen (LY-ken) a very small, flat plant that grows like a crust on rocks, wood, and soil migration a group's movement from one place to another, usually at a change in seasons molt to shed feathers and grow new feathers mynah a yellow-footed black bird about the size of a crow brought to Hawai'i from India in the 1860s parasite an organism that gets its food and protection by living in or on another organism pesticide a chemical used for killing weeds and harmful animals plumage feathers predator an animal that hunts and eats other animals preen to clean and trim feathers prey an animal hunted or killed for food by another animal refuge a safe place snare a kind of trap for small animals, usually a noose that snaps tight when the animal gets inside specimen one animal or plant; an example subarctic area just below the Arctic Circle

About the Author Marion Coste, a graduate of Connecticut College, has been an elementary teacher in six states and a museum educator/administrator at Mystic Marinelife Aquarium, Bishop Museum, Honolulu Academy of Arts, and the Hawai'i Children's Museum. She was a trainer/consultant for The Kamehameha Schools and an instructor in the College of Education, University of Hawai'i. Marion received the 1991 Anna Cross Giblin nonfiction grant from the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and is the author of two previous books on Hawai'i's native species: Nene (about the Hawaiian goose) and Honu (about the green sea turtle).

About the Illustrator Fred E. Salmon, Jr., is a former professional electrical engineer pursuing an avocation in fine art. His mediums of choice are oil and watercolor. Specializing in landscapes, seascapes, portraiture, and animal art, his works have won many awards in juried exhibitions. He resides in Honolulu with his wife Ingrid.