These birds are almost too smart for their own good

 kw: book reviews, nonfiction, birds, ornithology, falcons, caracaras

According to my friends who study birds, when you net a bird, weigh it, perhaps take a blood sample, and let it go, it typically flutters off at high speed. Suppose your study subject is raven-sized, and when you have finished "processing" it and let it go, it doesn't speed away. It flutters to the ground, turns around, cocks its head and gives you a look like, "OK, what was that all about?"

In A Most Remarkable Creature: The Hidden Life and Epic Journey of the World's Smartest Birds of Prey, author Jonathan Meiburg opens a window for us into the lives of an amazing group of falcons, the caracaras.

Before reading this book, the term "caracara" meant to me the cara cara orange, a pink-fleshed navel orange. The only contact between oranges and the Striated Caracara shown here would be the orange "leggings"! The bird's scientific name is Phalcoboenus australis, of the family Falconidae.

Family Falconidae has three subfamilies. The largest group is the "true falcons" including the familiar Peregrine Falcon, seen here for comparison. To me the caracara has a somewhat more "eagle-ish" look.

There are 45 species of true falcon, nine of caracaras, and eight of "forest falcons", plus an enigmatic species that is probably also a forest falcon.

Of the three groups, the caracaras are clearly the most intelligent. They are playful, brash, and typically less fearful of humans than the others. They also are more likely to walk about than swoop any short distance, which is similar to some vultures.

For completeness, here is an illustration of Barred Forest Falcon, a painting from a field guide. They are hard to photograph in the wild.

The Striated Caracara is not the largest caracara, but it is larger than average, about the size of a raven. They mostly live on the western islands of the Falkland Islands, and further west on islands just off Tierra del Fuego.

They are omnivores, and their subfamily name is derived from an old generic term, Polyborus, which is a variant of "omnivore" or "eats everything. And they do. They eat carrion as often as live prey, and have been seen hanging around with vultures, and even mutually preening. They also eat berries and other plant materials.

The author was fortunate to be funded for several expeditions to study caracaras. While I didn't take count, I think he managed to see members of all nine species. But the Striated Caracara, called Johnny Rook in the Falklands, is his clear favorite. Note: "rook" is what the English call a crow, and perhaps "Johnny" was given because they are often found among Gentoo Penguins, also called Johnny Penguins.

During early parts of the Twentieth Century birds were captured in the Falklands by the Penguin King, Len Hill, and captive Johnny Rooks are to be found here and there all over the British Isles. Some escaped birds seem to be doing well, as we would expect for a smart omnivore that can take the cold of British winters, which are less severe than those of the Falklands. Individuals of other species of caracara are found living ferally in North America.

Caracaras that haven't been taken elsewhere are almost totally endemic to South America; a few northern species are also found in Central America and southern Mexico. In fact, the Crested Caracara, Caracara plancus, may be the prototype of the Mexican Eagle depicted on the country's flag and on its coins, rather than the Golden Eagle as we are usually told. This picture of the bird is suggestive, though the coloration is different from that on the flag.

The intelligence, boldness and fearlessness of caracaras, at least of most species, makes them interesting performers in bird shows. Perhaps you've been to a "bird of prey" show at which a hawk or falcon has been trained to fly to someone in the audience holding up a dollar bill, and bring it back to the trainer (who will thank them for the tip). If a Johnny Rook is performing, it can be trained to take the dollar to a slot in a vending machine and slip it inside, something no other bird can manage.

In a place or two the author calls the Johnny Rook "the most human of birds," and in many ways that seems to be true. They like to hang about near humans, though the bond is usually to our ability to provide food, even by accident (That is how our house cat relates to us). But sometimes there is a bond of affection, and some residents of the Falklands would agree. Whatever the case, reading this book took me to places I didn't know existed, both biologically and geographically. An excellent read.