Forest owlet - Athene blewitti
For half a century, the forest owlet was known from only seven museum specimens.
Of the five specimens belonging to Britain’s Natural History Museum, four
were shot in the 1880s. The fifth, purportedly shot in 1914, was acquired as
part of the enormous collection donated to the museum by flamboyant World War
I soldier, spy, and amateur ornithologist Colonel Richard Meinhertzhagen. While
doing research for The Birds of India in 1993, Pamela Rasmussen of the Smithsonian
Institute, Nigel Collar of BirdLife International, and Robert Prys-Jones of
the Natural History Museum’s Bird Group found incongruities in Meinhertzhagen’s
documentation for his forest owlet specimen. Using modern forensic technologies,
Rasmussen and colleagues discovered evidence of theft (possibly from the museum’s
own holdings), re-stuffing, and falsified label data. Basing their information
in part on Meinhertzhagen’s invented location for the bird he claimed
to have killed, researchers had for 113 years been looking for the bird in the
wrong place. After taking into consideration the habitat preferred by other
Athene species, in 1997, Rasmussen and Collar et al. rediscovered the forest
owlet in a lowland hill forest near Bombay, one of the most populous cities
in India. The team is re-examining Meinhertzhagen’s entire bird collection
and uncovering more discrepancies.
Magnolia - Magnolia kobus
There is a short section in Sir David Attenborough’s 1995 book The Private
Life of Plants about some researchers who found a few odd black seeds in jars
of 2,000-year-old rice buried at an archaeological site in northern Japan. The
seeds reportedly sprouted, and ten years later the plant—a magnolia—bloomed.
An unusual number of petals on the flowers suggested that it might be a new
species related to Magnolia kobus. Despite my extensive attempts to confirm
this story with magnolia experts, the book’s publishers, and the university
group on the dig site, it remains uncorroborated. Perhaps it is a hoax, or simply
a mistake (magnolia seeds are, in fact, renowned for being particularly fleshy
and short-lived). Nevertheless, I included the magnolia in the picture because
the story so clearly exemplifies the depth of our desire for nature to be resilient.
Seeds, arctic lupine - Lupinus arcticus
A fairly common plant in the arctic, this lupine is unique for its seeds’
extraordinary longevity and resilience. At a gold mine in Canada in 1954, an
entire lemming burrow was dug up from three to six meters below the frozen surface.
A curious mining engineer put the nest and all its contents in a cool, dry storage
shed. Twelve years later, Canadian Museum of Nature paleontologist Dick Harington
heard about the unearthed burrow and took the contents to Ottawa for examination.
Harington inferred an age of about 10,000 years from some partially fossilized
bones. Of about 20 seeds found in the burrow, six sprouted and grew into healthy
Lupinus arcticus plants. If these seeds were as old as the bones, this would
be the longest known example of seed dormancy. The previous documented record
holder was a sacred lotus that sprouted from a 1,275-year-old seed.
Large Blue - Maculinea arion
The last of Britain’s large blue butterflies died in 1979, despite 200
years of conservation efforts to save them. Maculinea arion is myrmecophilous,
or ant-loving, and has an astounding relationship to the red ants native to
its habitat. The butterfly lays its eggs on wild thyme. The caterpillars hatch,
feed on the thyme leaves for a few weeks, then drop to the ground and begin
to secrete “honey” to attract ants. After the ants have fed, the
caterpillar waits for most of them to leave, then rears up on its back legs
and imitates an ant grub. If this deception works, one of the red ants will
mistake the caterpillar for an escaped grub of its own kind and carry it back
to its nest. Once inside the nest, the caterpillar feasts on the grubs with
which it has been placed. The following spring, the caterpillar forms a chrysalis
near the entrance to the nest. The adult butterflies of this species all emerge
from the ground within a few weeks in mid- to late summer. In 1972, in the face
of the imminent extinction of Britain’s population of Maculinea arion,
one scientist, Jeffrey Thomas, made an exhaustive last-ditch effort to examine
what remained of the butterfly’s habitat in Cornwall and try to save it.
There he discovered five nearly identical species of red ants. Several of these,
it turned out, were invasive species that tend to recognize the caterpillars
as intruders and kill them, while the red ant species key to the butterfly’s
survival had dwindled because of well-meaning but incorrect conservation efforts.
The requisite ants require close-cropped fields with sun-exposed sandy soil
for their nest sites. But an attempt to foster the growth of wild thyme by excluding
browsing animals had resulted in more vegetation and cooler soil. After its
extinction in England, Maculinea arion’s close cousins from Sweden were
reintroduced to correctly prepared sites in 1983. There are now several separate,
carefully monitored colonies around Britain, with one hatching a thousand or
more adults each summer.
Franklin tree - Franklinia alatamaha
Franklinia alatamaha no longer survives in the wild. The well-known Philadelphia
plantsman John Bartram first discovered this spreading green tree with graceful
white flowers along the Alatamaha River in Georgia in 1765. He returned to the
site a few years later and collected seeds. The Franklin tree was reportedly
seen in the wild in 1790, and possibly in 1803, but has never again been found
in its native environment. Luckily, Bartram was able to grow the plant in his
garden from the seeds he gathered. It is believed that all Franklinia alatamaha
available from nurseries today are descendants of those he cultivated.
Owens pupfish - Cyprinodon radiosus
The Central Valley of California was nearly mosquito-free before the decline
of the native pupfishes. Uniquely tolerant of the elevated temperature and shallow
waters in the valley, the Owens pupfish has the misfortune of living in the
river system most severely impacted by the water demands of Los Angeles. By
1948, it was believed to be extinct. After it was rediscovered in 1956 and in
1964, efforts were made to build refuges with sanctuary pools and barriers to
keep out non-native, predatory fish. In 1967, the Owens pupfish was federally
listed as endangered. In 1969, a combination of natural forces almost completely
dried out one of the last remaining pupfish pools. California Department of
Fish and Game biologist Phil Pister and colleagues raced out to an area called
Fish Slough with buckets, nets, and aerators to save the fish. They removed
800 fish and put them in mesh cages in a nearby pool, planning to move them
the following day to better sites. On Pister’s final check before leaving
for the day, he noticed that the fish were dying in large numbers from lack
of oxygen. He gathered all the survivors in two five-gallon buckets and, praying
he would not trip, carried the buckets and the fate of the species as he searched
for more suitable temporary pools. Fortunately for the pupfish, Pister succeeded.
Less drastic conservation efforts continue to this day.
Egg, short-tailed albatross - Phoebastria albatrus
The short-tailed albatrosses of Torishima Island, 370 miles south of Tokyo, once numbered in the millions. They were slaughtered for their plumage from the early 1800s until the 1930s. The harvest of feathers and down was so great it could be measured in tons. In 1902, a volcano erupted on Torishima, destroying nesting habitat and killing many of the birds, along with all of the 125 villagers who made their livelihood from them. The short-tailed albatross was believed extinct for two decades. Happily, short-tails were seen again on the island in 1951, and by 1977 nearly 200 birds were nesting there. Since then, Japanese ornithologist Hiroshi Hasegawa has devoted his life to the resurrection of the species. Although long-line fishing operations continue to take a steep toll, there are now about 1,000 short-tailed albatrosses breeding on Torishima Island.