IT WAS A hard story to read. Not because our Jacy Marmaduke did a poor job of reporting. Quite the contrary. She let the story about a mute swan speak for itself. Some of us had never heard of mute swans. And wondered why the good people at Game and Fish here in Arkansas would want to kill them.
It seems some folks around Perryville, specifically around Harris Brake Lake, had been feeding a mute swan of the male persuasion for a few years now. He found himself a friend of the Trumpeter Swan variety, and they did what nature suggests, even demands. The result was four babies-technically, cygnets-that were hybrids. Half mute swan, half Trumpeter.
That’s right: were. Because the Game and Fish Commission saw to it that they were killed last week. By snapping their necks. It can’t have been easy. Either for the cygnets or the humans. And if the owner of the mute swan hasn’t show up by the time you’re reading this, daddy bird may be dead, too.
But if you’re looking for a bad guy in this story, don’t look at Game and Fish. It did what it had to do. It was protecting the native Trumpeters. Because the mute swan is a non-native, invasive species. It’s more aggressive than the graceful Trumpeter swans, and has been known to attack humans and pets. Mute swans aren’t known as the pit bull of waterfowl for nothing.
Anyone who’s ever read E.B. White’s classic children’s book The Trumpet of the Swan will come away with a lifelong picture of that creature in his mind-and heart-and by now has probably bought a copy for his children and grandchildren. Saving the species from extinction is worth the effort-and even the pain and heartbreak of having to kill these little cygnets.
“We did what was biologically right,” explains Karen Rowe, who’s head of Game and Fish’s bird-preservation program. “We look at what we see in front of us and we see the beauty. But we don’t see what’s down the road. Doing what’s right isn’t always easy.”
Certainly not in this case.
Think of the pythons that a particular two-legged species of beast once released into the Florida swamps. Now the things have grown so prolific that Florida has had to establish a season for hunting the snakes, and they’re being slaughtered as fast as they can be found. All because somebody probably decided a python was too much trouble-and a handy roadside ditch looked like a good way to get rid of the thing.
Another example: the Eurasian Collared Dove, another feathered (but not much of a) friend. Dove hunters hereabouts doubtless have heard of it. Because the state of Arkansas sets limits on how many mourning doves may be shot during dove season, but there’s no limit-or has been no limit-on how many Eurasian Collared Doves a hunter can kill. Shoot as many of those as you like. Please.
Why this unlimited invitation and plea to dove hunters? Because somebody released this native of Southern Asia, Europe and parts east into the Americas several years back. And now the collared things are everywhere, competing with the native birds and probably putting pressure on local species. Just take a walk around the block and notice how many you see. The pretty cooing doves with the bands around their necks? Those ain’t from around here.
Or think of the nutria rat. It was introduced into South Louisiana decades ago, and now farmers there-and landowners in South Arkansas-have to do all they can to keep the things from destroying the wetlands.
Then there’s kudzu, aka The Vine That Ate The South.
CONSERVATIONISTS HAVE long tried to boost the population of Trumpeter Swans in these parts. Only about 10,000 of the Trumpeters now inhabit the Mississippi River valley. And they’re not going to grow any more numerous if mute swans are allowed to breed with them.
The well-intentioned folks who had been feeding Mr. Mute on Harris Brake Lake say the bird wasn’t overly aggressive. Maybe not. But his offspring might have been.
Have you noticed? Whenever a pit bull is featured in the news-often enough because it’s killed a human-the first thing its owners may say is, why, that particular dog was never aggressive. At least not before it killed some innocent. Or as is inevitably said about some serial killer, “Why, he was just a nice, quiet kind of guy you’d never notice.”
If the folks living around Harris Brake Lake are looking for somebody to blame in this sad story, don’t look at Game and Fish. If this story has a villain, it’s whoever dumped the mute swan in the lake in the first place.
Editorial, Pages 14 on 06/27/2013