Unearthed Gems – EcoLincNZ articles from the last two decades see the light again! From 2008…
The blue penguin (Eudyptula minor) is found around New Zealand’s coastlines and in many parts of south-eastern and western Australia (where they are sometimes known as fairy penguins). Over the years there have been many different suggestions put forward to explain the regional variations seen throughout the range of this species.
Early researchers hypothesised that each geographical region of New Zealand contained a subspecies of blue penguin. Molecular data from gene regions is often ideal for examining these kinds of hypotheses. A study in 2002 found only a little support for regional differences but a lot more support for major differences between blue penguins in New Zealand and Australia.
Image by Julie Paterson.
In a follow-up to this study Adrian Paterson, Rob Cruickshank, Gabby Drayton (Lincoln University) with Jonathan Banks (then University of Waikato) examined the regional genetic variation of blue penguins across Australia. Samples were taken from a western Australian and Victorian populations (which are thousands of kilometres apart).
The team examined the fast evolving control region and the slower evolving cytochrome B gene regions of the mitochondrial DNA from each penguin sample.
The western Australian individuals were found to be the same as the Victorian samples implying that there is a high level of gene flow between east and west Australia (more than from the east and west coasts of New Zealand, for example).
The study also confirmed that Australian and New. Zealand blue penguins are very different genetically and may warrant becoming recognised as separate species in the future.
Curiously, this study also agrees with the earlier study by placing the birds from Otago, New Zealand with the Australian birds rather than the other New Zealand populations. This result is hard to explain at present and will provide impetus for further studies.
This was the second EcoLincNZ article uploaded and was written by Adrian Paterson. In upgrading to a new site it was lost. I am uploading some of these old articles to let new readers access them. Adrian is currently working on little penguins for the first time since this time in 2008!
Unearthed Gems – EcoLincNZ articles from the last two decades see the light again! From 2008…
Tuatara, leiopelmatid frogs, weta (Orthoptera), peripatus (Onychophora), southern beech (Nothofagus) and kauri (Agathis australis) and other New Zealand species are often referred to as Gondwanan taxa. What does this mean? Gondwanaland was a large landmass made up of the southern continents that slowly broke apart through Jurassic and Cretaceous time. The New Zealand area began to break away from Eastern Australia and Antarctica around 83 million years ago in a large chunk of land the size of India, called Zealandia. Slowly this landmass sank. All that remains of this small continent are New Zealand, New Caledonia, Norfolk, Chatham Islands and the subantarctic islands. The term ‘Gondwanan’ is given to species whose distribution recalls this ancient history.
The living species of penguins. Art by Julie Paterson.
First, a taxon is Gondwanan if its lineage has been continuously present in New Zealand since Zealandia broke away from Gondwanaland.
Second, a taxon is Gondwanan if it is descended from a lineage that was present in Gondwanaland prior to break-up but arrived in New Zealand after Zealandia broke away from Gondwanaland and sank (dispersed and colonised).
Third, a taxon is Gondwanan if species are currently found in former Gonwanaland landmasses – but with no expectation of a common historical process to explain different instances of this pattern (which could be because of either of the two meanings above).
For example, penguins are found in New Zealand, Australia, southern Africa, South America and Antarctica and certainly demonstrate a Gondwanan distribution (third meaning).
Penguins have a fossil history to at least 62 Myr ago and molecular analyses suggest a much earlier origin in the Gondwanaland landmass, implying that they are found in the New Zealand region by virtue of having been in Gondwanaland when Zealandia rifted away (first meaning).
Fossil and molecular data all suggest that modern living penguin species all share a recent ancestor from about 25-30 million years ago. Living penguin genera of Eudyptes, Eudyptula and Megadyptes may have colonised New Zealand from other former Gondwanan landmasses since that time (second meaning).
Indeed, Eudyptula, the blue penguin, is found in Australia and New Zealand with molecular evidence for recent contact between these populations. Thus, the modern distribution of penguins could be described as Gondwanan in all three senses.
Does it really matter; it’s all Gondwanan isn’t it? Science is about being precise, removing ambiguity and these three meanings suggest different things. Meaning three simply acknowledges that there is a group of species that share a certain southern hemisphere pattern. Meanings one and two provide different explanations for the origin of this pattern with meaning one implying species have been continuously in New Zealand for 80 million years and meaning two implying that the species could have arrived at any time over the last 80 million years.
Understanding the difference will allow biogeographers (scientists that study where species are found) to be better able to tell the complicated story of the history of the New Zealand’s biota.
This was the very first EcoLincNZ article from 2008, written by Adrian Paterson. In upgrading to a new site it was lost. I am uploading some of these old articles to let new readers access them. Adrian is still bothered by how we use Gondwana.
Just before Christmas in 1999, Dr. Eric Scott collected an unusual ground beetle from the Wangapeka Track, in Kahurangi National Park. His wife also suffered a broken arm after a bad fall along the track and Eric safely supported her through the tough walk out for medical care. You will also be pleased to know that the beetle specimen was safely delivered to the Entomology Research Museum at Lincoln University. All in a day’s work for an entomologist!
At that time, no one knew that this tiny beetle would become crucial evidence in a controversial biogeographical debate years later.
Classification work
The scientific name of this newly discovered ground beetle species was Orthoglymma wangapeka (there is no common name). This species belongs to the ground beetle family (Carabidae, Coleoptera). It is quite small, with a body length about the size of a fingernail. The beetle is elongated and narrowed at the ‘neck’ position. Its entire body is covered in a dark brown, polished exoskeleton.
It looks like a normal brown beetle at first glance. However, careful examination of both its external structure and internal reproductive organs, led an international research team, including John Marris and Rowan Emberson from Lincoln University, to discover that this was a new species, different from any other known Orthoglymma species.
Dorsal View of Orthoglymma wangapeka, Scale bar: 1 mm. Photo Citation: Lincoln University Living Heritage: Tikaka Tuku Iho (6th Mar 2023). Coleoptera Orthoglymma wangapeka Holotype. In Website Lincoln University Living Heritage: Tikaka Tuku Iho. Retrieved 17th Apr 2026 12:00, from https://livingheritage.lincoln.ac.nz/nodes/view/36272, used under CC BY 3.0 NZ
The research team placed the newly named Orthoglymma (from Ancient Greek for straight carved lines – referring to the lined on the abdomen) wangapeka (from the locality of collection) in a tribe called Broscini.
They obtained data on 73 physical traits and compared with closely related beetles. The closest relatives of this species are all found only in New Zealand, Australia, and southern South America. This suggests that the ancestor of these Orthoglymma species was found in these areas. Fossil evidence of Broscini ground beetles in other research suggests that this group originated before the Gondwana breakup.
Ancient biota debate
What is the Gondwana breakup? Based on earth science research, Gondwana was a supercontinent that formed around 600 million years ago. It included many of the current continents, such as South America, Africa, Antarctica, Australia, and our homeland, New Zealand. The supercontinent Gondwana began to break apart around 180 million years ago.
The continent of Zealandia started separating from Gondwana about 85 million years ago, becoming isolated around 70 million years ago, leading to the formation of the Tasman Sea.
The long process of the fragmentation is known as the Gondwana breakup. This history explains why New Zealand’s biology shares high similarities with other southern landmasses, like Australia, South America, and Southern Africa, which were also part of the original landmass and neighbours to New Zealand.
A map of the supercontinent Gondwana. At this stage in the earth’s history, Zealandia had not formed a distinct continent yet. Photo Citation: Mikocheung, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
A second critical event occurred in New Zealand after the Gondwana breakup. New Zealand experienced a significant rise in sea level due to the sinking of the Zealandia continent around 25 million years ago. This is known as the ‘Oligocene Drowning’ theory.
There has been a heated debate about the extent of this drowning in the academic world. Some experts argue that New Zealand was completely submerged under the ocean during the Oligocene Drowning, which would cause all local terrestrial organisms to go extinct. From this perspective, our current animals and plants would have had to colonise New Zealand by crossing the sea after the drowning. On the other hand, the opposing experts claim that parts of New Zealand must have remained above the ocean, providing a refuge for ancient species to survive.
Beetles and land
Orthoglymma wangapeka is a tiny ground beetle that belongs to an ancient branch that evolved before the Gondwana breakup began. These beetles are flightless, lacking the obvious ability to disperse long distances across oceans. Their ancestors almost certainly were present in the pre-break up New Zealand region of the supercontinent Gondwana. Their presence is a powerful piece of evidence suggesting that New Zealand was not completely submerged in the ocean during the Oligocene Drowning.
The area where Orthoglymma wangapeka was collected belongs to the Buller Terrane, which is one of the oldest rock formations in New Zealand and originated on the eastern margin of Gondwana. The species may be a Gondwanan relict, a survivor of extreme environmental change in this area.
Other ‘living fossil’ are also found in this area suggesting that the Nelson area might have been an island that provided insects, including ground beetles, wētā, and micropterigid moths, with dry land to avoid extinction during the Oligocene Drowning.
View of Wangapeka Track, where Orthoglymma wangapeka was collected. Photo Citation: Michal Klajban, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Summary
As an ecology student, I am deeply drawn to this story because it is remarkable that a newly discovered species could play a vital role in a long-standing unsolved debate in earth science.
It fascinates me how a tiny organism can carry such a wealth of information about our country’s ancient past. This case demonstrates how biodiversity research connects with other subjects and provides a priceless value in broadening knowledge and highlights the importance of environmental conservation.
Without conservation of the habitat, this new species could have gone extinct before it was collected, and we would have missed a critical piece to the puzzle to understand the ancient geographical secrets of our country.
Next time you walk a trail in New Zealand (first watch where you are walking – don’t break and arm!), keep in mind that everything that exists in the environment might carry some undiscovered secrets of the earth’s history, even a tiny ground beetle.
This article was prepared by Master’s of Bioprotection student, Ethan Harland, as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.
References
Liebherr, J. K., Marris, J. W. M., Emberson, R. M., Syrett, P., & ROIG‐JUÑENT, S. (2011). Orthoglymma wangapeka gen.n., sp.n. (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Broscini): a newly discovered relict from the Buller Terrane, north‐western South Island, New Zealand, corroborates a general pattern of Gondwanan endemism. Systematic Entomology, 36, 395-414. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-3113.2011.00569.x
Mildenhall, D. C., Mortimer, N., Bassett, K. N., & Kennedy, E. M. (2014). Oligocene paleogeography of New Zealand: maximum marine transgression. New Zealand Journal of Geology and Geophysics, 57(2), 107-109. https://doi.org/10.1080/00288306.2014.904387
Bellbirds love to sing; they sing for everything that they do. Communicating, courtship, foraging, defending their homes, it’s almost like they’re living in a musical. I’ve always been captivated by the song of bellbirds. Whether I’m on a walk in the Port Hills, or at Willowbank Wildlife Reserve looking at the capybara and otters, I hear bellbirds singing in the background.
The New Zealand Bellbird, or Anthornis melanura, is a honeyeater species and a close relative of New Zealand’s Tūī (Prosthemadera novaeseelandiae). They have a variable diet, feeding primarily on nectar, but also fruits, insects, and scale insect honeydew. In Christchurch, bellbirds spend their summers in the Port Hills, feeding from the large nectar supplies that come from flowering native vegetation. Then, in the winter, some move to the city, where urbanisation creates a warmer environment, and sugar feeders and exotic plantings provide food.
In 2019, PhD student Jennifer Dent studied foraging and migratory patterns of bellbirds in Christchurch for her thesis, using their calls to determine where different groups were. Bellbirds in different areas make different calls, basically a different accent, language, or singing a song in a different key, and this is referred to as dialect.
For this, Jennifer placed DOC AR4 audio recorders at 59 locations. 29 locations were in the Port Hills, where recording took place in autumn. Sites were everywhere from Rapanui Bush in the east to Ahuriri Reserve in the west, totalling 15 km around the Port Hills. The other 30 recording locations were in Christchurch city during winter, from as far north as the Groynes, as far east as Sumner, and as far west and south as Lincoln. From this, Jennifer matched dialects in the Port Hills in autumn to those recorded in Christchurch city in winter.
Christchurch dialects
Jennifer found four different bellbird dialects in Christchurch.
Dialect A was the most common dialect. It was spread across the northern region of the Port Hills, as well as in more central areas, such as the Botanic Gardens.
Dialect B was the next most common. In the Port Hills, it was found in Kennedy’s Bush, and in the city, it was in south-western areas, such as Halswell and Hoon Hay.
Dialect C was the least common dialect that Jennifer observed. In the Port Hills, it was found in Omahu Bush, and in Christchurch, it was found outside of the city, but only as far as Tai Tapu and Lincoln.
Dialect D was the last dialect. This pattern is unusual because it was not found in the autumn Port Hills recordings, but was found in the winter Christchurch recordings around the eastern and northern parts of Christchurch, such as Sumner, the Groynes, and Riccarton Bush, but because it was not found in the autumn recordings, it is not known where they went after winter.
It’s surprising that four different dialects were found both so close together and with very little overlap, especially since there are no geographic barriers stopping members of one group from flying to another. Jenny suggested that there could be two main reasons for this: limited dispersal and vocal imitation.
Limited dispersal, or philopatry, is the theory that states that birds remain in the areas where they were born and raised perhaps because it is harder to survive outside their own groups. A second theory is that vocal imitation by bellbirds occurs when birds move between groups, but we don’t notice it because they are so quick to pick up on the new dialect. It is possible that both of these theories are occurring simultaneously.
Following bellbirds into the city
The presence of all Port Hills dialects in the Christchurch recordings suggests that seasonal dispersal from the Port Hills to Christchurch is a shared behaviour among all populations. Furthermore, as shown by the map, dispersing to the nearest suitable location rather than spreading across all of Christchurch also seems to be a shared behaviour.
Bellbirds in Christchurch likely remember foraging areas for different times of the year, but rather than remembering many locations across Christchurch, they remember only a few patches that are close together. This is referred to as patch-scale resource tracking, and it has been shown to be a low-work, high-reward technique for foraging by bellbirds.
Next time you hear a bellbird singing, you aren’t just hearing background noise, you’re hearing a local neighbour. That bellbird might be a Cashmere regular or a member of the Tai Tapu community. It makes Christchurch a more lively city, as it’s not only just a place for us, but for birds following their own routines, singing their songs as they go about their day.
This article was prepared by Master of Science student Max Mulvihill as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.
Dating is hard and confusing for most… but especially for these guys.
A recent study on two native semi aquatic spiders, Dolomedes aquaticus and Dolomedes minor, revealed that spider dating is dramatic, but beneficial for their evolution. These spider species spend a lot of time diving for their prey in rivers and streams.
Male fishing spiders (Dolomedes species) perform complex courtship displays for their partners, which include vibratory, visual, and chemical signals, all just to avoid being killed by the female they are trying to impress, and just so he gets the opportunity to copulate.
D. aquaticus at Boyle River. Photo by Nicky Lowther (CC BY-NC)
These fishing spider species are found throughout New Zealand. In a particular area in the lower South Island, something interesting is going on… they are hybridising!… but only in one direction.
These species are closely related and have been observed to interbreed. This causes genes from one species to pass to the other; this process is called introgression. Introgression between these species has only been observed in one direction between female D. aquaticus and male D. minor. Introgression has also only been seen in one location, in the south of the South Island, the “introgression zone.”
Distribution of Dolomedes aquaticus and D. minor within New Zealand, with introgressed D. minor specimens shown. Data from Vink and Dupérré 2010 and Lattimore et al 2011. Also shows collection locations of spiders for laboratory experiments, and Waipara field monitoring site. The introgression zone is shown by the square box. (Content subject to copyright: please see the study image notes for details)
The purpose of this study was to investigate life history traits and mating behaviour that promoted and limited introgression that occurs only one way and is limited to one area.
Spiders were collected from within and outside the introgression zone and mating behaviour was tested in a lab.
From these experiments, it was found that males from outside the introgression zone were less willing to continue courtship once realising the female was of a different species from themselves, often ghosting halfway through, an experience familiar to those of us in the dating pool. On the other hand, D. minor males within the introgression zone were happy to flirt with any female. This unfussy selection seems familiar. Whether this is a spider phenomenon or a southern cultural trait remains unclear.
Another interesting find was that female D. minor were more short tempered when it comes to D. aquaticus males, having much higher attack and rejection rates towards D. aquaticus males than the opposite pairing. When a D. aquaticus male attempted courtship, the females often attacked and ate him. This suggests the differences in female behaviour between the two species may have just as much influence on gene flow as mate choice.
Female receptiveness to male courtship is key for introgression to occur, including female ability to recognise male courtship, female choice, and premating aggressive behaviour, these could all prevent interbreeding in ways that could vary throughout the species’ range.
Pairings were more successful if the pairings were similar in size. Females in both species are much larger than males, although D. aquaticus is larger overall. It was suggested that one way introgression could be because a female D. aquaticus assumes that a smaller male would be an easier snack, not a great mate!
D. aquaticus at Boyle River. Photo by Nicky Lowther (CC BY-NC)
Other potential factors could include that partners in the south could be less choosy in their mate selection as their breeding seasons may be shorter due to natural conditions. D. aquaticus females may think males of their species are rarer, or D. aquaticus male and D. minor female genitalia may not be compatible.
In summary, it is likely that mating behaviour has a strong influence on the dynamics of introgression gene transfer between these species within the introgression zone.
Male behaviour may limit introgression one way, preventing mating between D. minor females and D. aquaticus males. Also, female behaviour and choice may limit introgression because of a preference: mate or meal?
In the end, these spiders prove one thing: rejection is natural selection, and preference is important in evolution. So, next time you have a bad date, consider yourself grateful that your rejection did not end in sexual cannibalism. 🕷️
This article was prepared by Master of Bioprotection student Nicky Lowther as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course
Connolly, S. J., Hunt, J., Curtis, K. M., Painting, C. J., Cooney, C., & Vink, C. (2025). Mating behaviour influences the direction and geographic extent of introgression in New Zealand fishing spiders (Dolomedes). Journal of Evolutionary Biology, 38(3), 291–304. https://doi.org/10.1093/jeb/voae147
Are your maize plants growing well in the field? If not,we can often blame plant parasitic nematodes.
There are around 4100 known species of nematodes and they cause a considerable loss of agricultural produce, with estimated global crop damage of $US 358 billion every year.
The life cycle of these plant parasitic nematodes have four stages, and the second-stage juvenile (J2) is the destructive phase. Most nematodes are sedentary inside the host and others survive in the soil.
Written by Sambath in behavior, conservation, front page profile, invasive species, student blog, Uncategorized, zoology, pest management
In the 2021/22 NZ growing season, about 196,000 tonnes of grain and 1,200,00 tonnes of silage were harvested, making maize one of the most cultivable crops in New Zealand. Around 58% of the harvest was grown for livestock feed demand, and the remaining 42% was for food and industrial processors.
Plant parasitic nematodes are common in New Zealand and many horticulture industries have experienced a substantial loss of profits from these destructive plant pests. While maize is one of the most crucial crops in this country reported to be damaged by various species of nematodes, few studies have been conducted here compared to other countries.
So, Nagarathanam Thiruchchelvan, a PhD student at Lincoln University, and his team conducted research to identify and quantify plant parasitic nematode infestations of maize production across New Zealand. Their purpose was to investigate the prevalence and diversity of several genera of plant parasitic nematodes.
The researchers collected a total of 384 composite soil samples from 25 maize fields located in the North and South Islands, focusing on: Canterbury, Waikato, and Manawatu-Whanganui. Data collection was carried out at various maize growing stages and seasons during 2022.
It was not good news!
The researchers found that at least one genus of plant parasitic nematode was detected in 378 (98%) of the maize samples. Pratylenchus was the most prevalent and widespread genus (91%) followed by Helicotylenchus (38%).
The plant parasitic nematode population and diversity were higher in Canterbury than in Waikato and Manawatu-Whanganui. Thiru and his team believed that the inconsistent distribution was caused by different climate and geography conditions between the two regions. For example, the South Island is more diverse in soil physiochemical proportions than the North Island.
Thiru also observed that soil orders, a soil classification system, affected the proliferation of plant parasitic nematode populations, with brown and pallic soil types promoting nematode reproduction, especially for Pratylenchus. Pallic soils refer to a soil type having pale, fragile topsoil and compacted subsurface. For the brown soil, its topsoil is dark grey-brown, and the subsoil is tan or yellowish-brown.
The lowest number of plant parasitic nematodes was detected in organic soil. Organic-rich soils favor a wide range of beneficial fungi, bacteria, and nematode survival. These microorganisms can suppress the proliferation of plant parasitic nematodes by either feeding on eggs or predating invasive nematodes.
The study further indicated that the population and diversity of plant parasitic nematodes increased alongside distinguishing developmental stages of maize. Most nematodes were reported from the harvesting stage, while the least were from the seedling stage.
Root-knot nematode (Meloidogyne enterolobii). Image from Jeffrey W
Thiru and his team noticed that rotating maize with other crops played a significant role in reducing the incidence and prevalence of plant parasitic nematodes in the field. These other crops included ryegrass, pasture, wheat, white clover, potato, peas, and winter crops. One maize field located in Canterbury was detected with a high significant intensity of 3000 nematode root lesions per kg of roots as a result of non-rotation practice.
Thiru concluded that there was a requirement for a deeper understanding of dispersal, feeding characters, and life cycle of plant parasitic nematodes, in particular, root-lesion nematode (Pratylenchus) in maize fields across New Zealand. Specific pest management approaches are needed to control the prevalence and abundance of targeted nematodes impairing maize production in both islands.
Thiruchchelvan, N., Kularathna, M., Moukarzel, R., Casonato, S., & Condron, L. M. (2024). Prevalence and abundance of plant-parasitic nematodes in New Zealand maize fields: effects of territory, soil orders, crop stage, and sampling time. New Zealand Journal of Zoology, 1-22. https://doi.org/10.1080/03014223.2024.2424900
Have you ever bitten into a slice of bread, only to find out that it’s gone mouldy? Yuck! But what causes mould, and how does it spread? This was a mystery solved by scientists in the 1800s.
Mould in bread is caused by a fungus (fungifor multiple). Fungi are made of many tiny branches that grow into a huge maze. These branches reach out to find food from the environment around them; the branches spread from a central point to search for food at the edges. As resources run low, the middle of the fungus dies, creating an expanding ring of live branches. There are many types of fungi out there, and mould is one type that we try to avoid when we store our fruit, vegetables, and bread. When scientists discovered fungi, they solved one mystery, but there are new questions to be answered.
One mystery involves atype of insect that loves to eat fungi: beetles! Specifically, beetles in the group called Brontini. These little guys eat fungi when they are larvae (baby beetles before they’ve become adults).Usually, the these larvae eat fungi under the bark of trees, but recently a special Brontini beetle was found. This beetle, called Protodendrophagus antipodes by scientists, lives up in the mountains of New Zealand, above the treeline in the alpine zone. Protodendrophagus antipodes is a long name, so we’ll call them Anti.
Anti (Protodendrophagus antipodes) larva. Photo credit: John Marris.
Anti are special for more than one reason. First, they live way up in the cold alpine area, which is a harsh environment to live in. The freezing temperatures and dry environment even stop trees from growing there! Second, every other species of Brontini beetle feeds on fungi under tree bark. Confusingly, the area where Anti lives doesn’t have these fungi. Since it’s too high up the mountain for trees to grow, there’s no fungi under tree bark for the beetles to munch on. And so, one group of enthusiastic scientists decided to figure out what these little guys eat. Let’s meet our investigators!
Our team is made up of three skilled diet detectives: John Marris (“The Mastermind”) – the strategic leader who knows the ins and outs of beetles; David Hawke (“The Brains”) – a science whiz with a flair for chemistry; and David Glenny (“The Sidekick”) – your friendly neighbourhood plant expert. Together, the team solved the mini mystery in the mountains: where is the food for Anti?
In 2018, the team went into the Southern Alps on an exciting trip to examine the scene and gather more evidence. They found two very important clues. First, there were lots of lichens in the areas where the beetles live. Second, sometimes the beetles lived where there wasn’t anything else to eat. I bet you can guess what our prime menu suspect is!
You’ve probably seen lichens around, though you may not have known what they were. Lichens grow on trees and rocks, but they’re not just one species; lichens are an example of a “symbiotic relationship”. This is when two organisms work together to boost each other’s chance of survival. In this case, the organisms work so closely together that the lichen itself is actually made up of both species! The body of the lichen is a strong skeleton built from fungus. Inside that skeleton live algae, plant-like organisms that can use the sun to make food. In this way, the fungus keeps the algae safe, and the algae feed the fungus. Win win! Cha-ching!
Since lichens are made up of fungi, this seemed like a pretty good place for our detectives to start. Every good private eye needs evidence to make their case. Thankfully, our clever detectives saw a way to test their theory: the stomach contents of the beetles! They collected some Anti as “evidence” and looked at the food in their stomachs. Inside they found spores that came from a lichen fungus.
“What is a spore?” you may ask. Remember that maze of branches that make up a fungus? Well, sometimes the branches can’t find enough food for the fungus to eat. If that happens, the fungus has a new strategy to survive: spores! These are little circular pieces of fungus that can spread to new areas and find the fungus a better home.
But their work wasn’t done yet: the detectives found more than just lichen spores in their beetle stomachs. They also found a whole bunch of mystery food which they couldn’t identify. The scientists needed to confirm that lichens really are the only food eaten by Anti. So, the scientists put their thinking hats on and decided to find a new way to solve this puzzle. They chose to use an approach called the “stable isotope test”.
An isotope is a special form of elements, such as nitrogen and carbon, and organisms at the bottom of the food chain absorb them from the environment. If an animal eats something, then the isotopes of the animal should be pretty similar to its food.To solve this mystery, the scientists tested the isotopes of Anti and all of the potential foods in the area. A good detective looks at all the possible solutions, so they tested the soil, the mosses, the lichens, the tiny mountain plants, and even a type of spider.
At last, the detective work was done. Their test showed just what we’re all thinking: the Anti beetle really does eat lichen. The link was so clear that David Hawke called it a “textbook example” of the test in action. The scientists were very excited because lichen-eating is pretty rare for beetles.
After all their investigation, the detectives could finally declare: “case closed!” Now we have a new mystery: how do these beetles survive in the extreme cold of the alpine zone?
This article was prepared by Master of Science student Heidi Allan as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.
Curiosity often starts with a sense of wonder and a desire to understand the world around us. If you are a parent, I hope you have noticed and observed this in your children. Their endless questions and fascination with the world are a beautiful reminder of the joy and excitement that comes with learning and discovery.
I have four lovely daughters, among them four-year-old Arshifa Gul is a bundle of curiosity and always gives me a tough time replying to all her unexpected questions. She also loves watching animated movies, stories and travelling. Back in 2023, I took her to the Pakistan Museum of Natural History for the first time. She was shocked by seeing the animal models and skeleton structures, especially the huge dinosaurs and their roaring, Asiatic lions and their growling, and the realistic models of sharks and dolphins. At first, she was quiet, observing closely, making sure they couldn’t attack. Then, her surprising questions began. “Why is the dolphin here? Who made the dinosaur roar? How did they get so big? When did they live?”
As a wildlife biologist, I’ve worked with animals for years, but her questions confused me! It was the first time that I struggled to explain my own field. Her curiosity pushed me to think deeper and find ways to explain complex concepts in simple terms. Our trip ended but Arshifa Gul’s questions did not. Her curiosity shifted to linking the roars and growls to the human voice of the animals she heard in the animated movies
AI-generated image (Grok) of Arshifa Gul standing in awe before a towering dinosaur skeleton in a museum, her eyes wide with wonder, surrounded by animal models like lions and dolphins.
The next morning at breakfast, Arshifa Gul excitedly shared her thoughts about the characters from her favourite animated movie, “Allahyar and the Legend of Markhor”, set in Pakistan. She talked about the boy Allahyar and his animal friends, then asked where these animals lived, how big they were in real life, what their calls sounded like, and if we could visit them. I said yes we could, but explained that Khunjerab National Park, home to the markhor and snow leopard, was seven hours away.
Her curiosity turned our breakfast into an adventure planning session. I gathered information on the park’s history, species like snow leopards, ibex, and Marco Polo sheep, and conservation efforts, including a trophy hunting program initiated by IUCN and WWF. 80% of the total benefits from this hunting initiative goes to the local communities while the remaining 20% is invested in habitat protection and improvement.
We visited the site, and she enjoyed the trip thoroughly and I answered most of her questions and her confusion cleared regarding voices and the original habitat of different species. Answering her is always tough, but it makes me see the world through her bright, wondering eyes, full of love for animals. She makes me realise how important it is to nurture this curiosity, not just in her, but in all children.
Curiosity is a powerful force that drives us to explore, learn, and grow. Arshifa Gul’s curiosity inspired me to write about the introduction of European hedgehogs into New Zealand. The European hedgehog, also known as the West European hedgehog, is a charming little creature native to Europe.
Hedgehogs can live in a variety of terrestrial habitats and are mostly active at night. They have a slow, hesitant way of walking and often stop to sniff the air. Unlike other hedgehog species that
Hedgehogs have fascinated people for centuries. Their spiky charm has made them popular in history, from ancient amulets to modern pop culture icons, like Sonic the Hedgehog. Did you know that New Zealand is the only country outside Europe where European hedgehogs have successfully been established in the wild? This fascinating story of how these spiky little creatures made their way to both the North and South Islands of New Zealand is filled with twists and turns.
Back in the 1869, acclimatisation societies in New Zealand introduced European hedgehogs to control pests. For a long time, it was believed that hedgehogs were first introduced to the South Island and later spread to the North Island. However, a molecular study in 2013 challenged this view and suggested that hedgehogs were independently introduced to both the islands directly from Europe. This means that the North Island had its own separate introduction of hedgehogs, rather than receiving them from the South Island.
To uncover the truth, researchers from various universities, including Lincoln University, turned to historical records, especially old newspaper articles. They discovered that there were at least four independent shipments of hedgehogs into the North Island before 1900 (which were not documented in the first publication back in 1975). These findings confirmed that the North Island’s hedgehog population did not originate from the South Island. This study highlights the importance of combining observational data, molecular studies, and historical records to understand the introduction pathways of species.
The European hedgehog population thrived well in NZ, too well, as it has now become problematic for native wildlife. For example, they prey on ground-nesting birds and compete with native species for food. Leading conservationists have classified them as a pest, and the Department of Conservation New Zealand has launched a campaign to protect native species from hedgehogs.
Arshifa Gul’s questions and the hedgehog share a common thread. Curiosity drives us to explore and learn. Whether it’s a child marvelling at a museum exhibit or scientists unravelling ecological puzzles, curiosity bridges wonder and action. It reminds us that conservation isn’t just about saving species—it’s about nurturing the spark that makes us care. As parents, educators, or stewards of the planet, or a teacher we can foster curiosity by encouraging, sharing stories, and exploring nature together by using interactive technologies.
Reference: Pipek, P., Pysek, P., Bacher, S., Cerna Bolfikova, B., & Hulme, P. E. (2020). Independent introductions of hedgehogs to the North and South Island of New Zealand. New Zealand Journal of Ecology, 44(1), 3396. https://doi.org/10.20417/nzjecol.44.7
Collecting things seems to have deep roots in the human brain. There are few things more satisfying than finding something unexpected that you really need for your collection. The shock (woah!), the excitement (at last!), the surprise (how did this get here?), the urgency (I better grab this before someone else does), even though anyone standing close to you probably won’t care about this!
My youngest son had a few years of thrifting where he would scour second-hand stores for ‘cool clothes’ that he could buy and then sell on for a reasonable profit to people who wanted that retro look but didn’t want to spend time searching. Edgar trained me up to spot certain brands, labels, styles and so on. For about five or six years I spent a lot of time browsing ‘dead peoples’ clothes’ as my middle son Arthur called them. I still remember a great trip with Edgar as I took him to a university semester in Dunedin. We struck gold in Waimate (a little off the beaten track) and found 30+ items!
A small selection of Tanith Lee.Active from the 1970s till the 2010s – prolific and great for collecting! The Winter Players and Companions on the Road are two of my favourite (short) books ever. Image from Adrian.
What do I collect? I guess there is a distinction between hobbies and collecting? I have a lot of small plastic figures that I love painting but I am not searching for some elusive or rare halfling commando. I buy a lot of boardgames and there are some older games that I might keep an eye out for, but I would count these as hobbies not collecting.
Books, I have a lot of books…. Some of that is hobby – reading the latest books by Tad Williams or Lindsey Davis, for example. But I definitely collect some authors (Tanith Lee, Robert Howard) and spend time in second hand book shops with a list…. I still remember the day that I found the original D&D colouring book in absolutely mint, uncoloured condition! So rare! So elusive! All mine! (Sadly it has somehow gone missing from my collection in recent years!).
Collected on camera – a red panda. Image by Sonam Lama
As a zoologist interested in natural history, you are also dealing with collecting. Typically you want to collect the types of species found in an area. This tells us a lot about species diversity and richness, conservation, ecological interactions, evolutionary adaptations and so much more! This collection could be physical (like the hundreds of thousands of insect specimens found in our LU Entomology Research Museum) or it could be observational, where spotting an individual from a species can be logged (like with iNaturalist). But it certainly scratches the collecting itch.
Observations can be direct (e.g. I saw that animal) or indirect (e.g. I found a footprint of that animal). Either way these are data that tell us that a species is found in the area. We are increasingly relying on indirect methods to collect observations – in fact much of our wildlife research here in Pest-management and Conservation is around developing better ways to monitor our mammal pests.
Sonam Lama was a Master of International Nature Conservation student at Lincoln University. He had spent a lot of time working for the Red Panda Network back in Nepal. As part of his research, with Adrian Paterson and James Ross, he was interested in being better able to monitor red panda in the wild (but that will be another story!). Sonam was also keen to find what other species share the red panda habitat in far eastern Nepal. Were there many predators? Were there many competitors?
Sonam in the forest of eastern Nepal. Image by Sonam Lama
Sonam worked within the high altitude (between 2-4000 m abs) forests of Ilam, Panchthar and Taplejung, which provide a corridor between the rest of Nepal and India. Over this large area Sonam identified sites where he could put his 60 cameras. Typically the cameras were attached to the base of a tree. Observations from these camera traps were made through winter and spring. Results have now been published in the European Journal of Wildlife Research.
So what did Sonam collect? Over 3000 camera trap days about 90000 images were recorded. Two thirds were false triggers (vegetation moving in the wind, sudden changes in temperature with sunrise and sunset) – such is the bane of the camera approach. About 11000 were of local people moving through the forest. Amongst all of this were over 5000 images of mammals, including 23 different species, and 3600 images of birds, including 37 species.
Seventeen of these mammals were medium to large and could be identified. Red panda were observed. The commonly seen species were a deer – northern red muntjac, wild boar and leopard cats. The rarest were other cats: marbled cat (first record in Nepal), Asiatic golden cat and common leopard. The spotted lingsang was also collected for the first time, as was the first melanic (black) leopard.
Collecting images and video also allows us to look at behaviour. We can get a sense of when species are active. We can see which species move around in groups. Wild boar foraged for tubers in front of the camera, red panda marked their territory, two porcupines mated! Red panda and macaques were active during the day, red foxes and porcupines were nocturnal.
Collected on camera, a melanic form of leopard. A first for the region. Image by Sonam Lama.
All of these collected images and videos provide little snapshots of natural history for these species, many of which are difficult to find any other way. Our understanding of potential threats for red panda has also increased. They definitely share their habitat with several potential predator species (and we found a few that were not even known from Nepal). Perhaps more importantly we were able to show that people are common in these habitats and that they are often accompanied by dogs. Good to know from a conservation point of view!
Collecting images of different species using trail cameras is an increasingly common tool around the globe. It is becoming an essential tool for monitoring species. It doesn’t hurt that there is that thrill of the collector when you find an image of something surprising in amongst all of those misfires.
This article was written by Adrian Paterson (Pest-management and Conservation at Lincoln University). Yes he is a collector ( I guess you could argue that he collects EcoLincNZ articles!).
Our adventure begins in the breathtaking north of Pakistan, where the majestic peaks of the Himalayas, and their foothills, stand as one of the last sanctuaries, a place where the sky meets the earth. Here, clouds drift over rough mountains and lush valleys, into dense forests. Glistening lakes and spectacular waterfalls shape this natural paradise.
In this wilderness, the air echoes to the calls of rhesus monkeys, while wild boars wander through the underbrush. The Himalayan red fox prowls the mountains, on the hunt for colourful pheasants, a tale as old as time.
But the fox is not the only hungry predator in these forests. A top predator, larger and stronger, with a powerful bite and covered in unique dots, reigns in the mountainous range. The majestic leopard (Panthera pardus), a mysterious and shy creature, expert at camouflage, is prowling these forests.
Leopards are amongst the most iconic big cats. Just like other big cats, leopards are endangered. Human activity and landscape alteration pose significant threats to their survival. When leopards and humans cross paths, conflicts arise, turning this top predator from hunter to hunted.
Panthera pardus fusca is described as larger subspecies, with brighter coloration and smaller rosettes (Bellani, 2019).
Photo Credit: CC BY 2.0 DEED, taken by Rupal Vaidya in October 2016
Leopards are generally cryptic and shy, much remains unknown about these ferocious hunters.
Muhammad Asad, a PhD student at Lincoln University, started his dangerous journey to this wild region in the north of Pakistan. The dangers of the landscape were not limited to wildlife; humans also posed a significant risk in this troubled region. Undeterred, Asad was ready for the challenge that lay ahead.
Leopards are amongst the world’s most widespread carnivores, ranging from Africa to Asia. Prowling over such a vast distribution has led to the recognition of several subspecies, most of which are endangered. The forests in the north of Pakistan are known to be home to leopards, but their subspecies status has not been assessed.
Contrary to the legend of water-shy cats, leopards are excellent swimmers. Still, the mighty Indus River was believed to act as a barrier between populations, maybe even keeping subspecies apart.
To unravel this mystery, Asad and his team collected and analysed tissue samples from leopards. Modern techniques have created a genetic tool as powerful as its name: mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA). Mitochondria, the powerhouses of our cells, have long been known for their role in providing power for our cells. These powerhouses also carry their own DNA, passed down maternally, making mtDNA incredible useful for studying population dynamics and subspecies differentiation.
A key protein encoded on the mtDNA, NADH 5, is essential for energy production and is highly variable among big cats, making it an excellent candidate gene for subspecies identification.
Through their research, Asad and his team found two distinct subspecies of leopard in the north of Pakistan, P. p. saxicolorandP. p. fusca, both belonging to the Asian group of leopards.
Panthera pardus saxicolor is commonly a bigger subspecies and is often more pale coloration, with bigger rosettes (Kiabi et al., 2002).
Photo Credit: CC BY 2.0 DEED, taken by Guido Konrad in July 2021
These findings mark the first subspecies identification in this region and hold significant implications for conservation efforts. The coexistence of both subspecies in the same region suggests an interesting natural corridor that connects leopard habitats, offering hope for their conservation in the face of habitat fragmentation.
At the same time, discovering two subspecies living in the same area opens up the possibility of them interbreeding. This can create some challenges for conservation. We might wonder: could one or both of these subspecies disappear over time? Or will they blend together and create a new subspecies? Hybridisation is very unpredictable, which is why it’s important to work on conserving both subspecies. They each have unique evolutionary histories, which are the product of thousands of years of adaptation and survival, and could potentially be lost due to this phenomenon called hybridisation.
These findings not only help leopard conservation in the paradise of the Himalayan belt in the north of Pakistan, but also contribute to global conservation efforts to protect this amazing species. By identifying subspecies and unveiling their genetic patterns, we can better protect them. It is important to protect both subspecies, which helps protect the overall species Panthera pardus.
Asad M, Martoni F, Ross JG, Waseem M, Abbas F, Paterson AM. 2019. Assessing subspecies status of leopards (Panthera pardus) of northern Pakistan using mitochondrial DNA. PeerJ 7:e7243 https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.7243
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