One day last week, Tuesday, October 31st, I was poking around the yard before work, heard the familiar caw, caw, caw sound of a crow. I looked overhead a saw small group, perhaps five to seven birds flying in a southwesterly direction not much higher than three tree heights overhead. I watched for a moment, then noticed another group about the same size, then another, larger group of 12 to 15 birds headed the same way, flying about 5 to 15 seconds apart. This event continued on for nearly 10 minutes. Groups ranging from five to six birds up to about twenty kept appearing overhead. I eventually started counting and reached 299 birds over this time span. If you figure they were flying about 25 mph, the front of the flock was more than 4 miles ahead of the tail-enders.

Not knowing a whole lot about crows, I started doing some reading and some research on the internet and discovered a fascinating amount of information from sources such as Audubon Society, Cornell University, and other Web sites.

I learned that this flock was not exceptionally large, that flocks of crows that congregate together as “roosts” may contain several thousand individuals, and that a roost out in Oklahoma had an estimated 2 million birds. Evidently, this roosting event takes place during fall and winter. Crows in the northern latitudes have rather short migratory patterns, and our birds may spend the winter in the mid-Atlantic and central eastern states such as Pennsylvania.

Quite a bit of publicity on crows in the past few years revolves around West Nile virus, an infection that can cause encephalitis and meningitis. The virus is transmitted by mosquitoes that feed on the blood of infected birds. Just a few species of mosquitoes feed on both birds and mammals, and these are found in urban and suburban areas where pools of stagnant water as a result of poor drainage or pools of water in buckets, barrels, tires, and clogged gutters have been allowed to collect water.

Much is being learned about this virus, but it is felt by scientists that birds do not transmit the virus to humans, and that crows happen to be victims due to their proximity the human environment. One important thing that we all can do to lessen the chance of spreading this virus is to make certain our yards and properties do not have places for mosquitoes to breed.

-Norman Forbes, Biology Specialist
Region B – Central Maine

Attention class. Would those sportsmen who contend that the successful introduction of wild turkeys into Maine has had a negative impact on deer, please sit up and pay attention.

The argument has been advanced that the wild turkey consumes all the acorns and other natural foods to the detriment of the deer. If our previous class discussions on this topic have not persuaded you, I invite you to examine the state of the acorn crop in central Maine this fall.

The acorn crop is virtually non-existent yet deer being processed at local meat lockers have more body fat than any year I can recall. Remember, even in the absence of acorns whether by natural cycle or the voracious appetite of the wild turkey, deer always fatten up for winter.

Opening day of deer season 2006 was a memorable day. We had gathered the day before as a group of four to celebrate our tradition. I was joined by Paul, a celebrated Maine poet from Millinocket, Charlie, a salty woodsman from Gray, and Rick, the land baron and brewmaster of Brooks.

We had forged our friendships long ago when Northern Maine whitewater was the master of our youthful passion. Opening morning on the drive over for breakfast, I saw a nice six-point buck and a large doe standing where I normally park my truck to walk to my stand. I held my breath and drove slowly, foolishly thinking they might stand there until legal time. As I continued down the driveway I saw three more deer in the glow of the headlights. I had seen five deer and the season hadn’t even started. There could be no excuse now. We walked to our stands in the quiet darkness and sat alone with our thoughts. Paul got turned around and wound up sitting in a tree stand that was long ago abandoned in favor of a more promising spot.

Within the hour, a nice 2-year-old seven-point buck had crossed paths with a poet and the single report signaled the end of a successful hunt. The wind began to blow and the rain began to fall. Other hunters left the woods for warmer haunts. We laughed and listened intently as Paul relished in his moment, and I thought, Maine the way deer season should be.

– Keel Kemper, Assistant Regional Wildlife Biologist
Region D – Western Mountains

I was gassing up the truck last Saturday and overheard one guy ask another if he got his deer yet.

Whose wildlife is it often depends on the time of year because last summer I was instructed by an owner of apples trees to get IFW’s deer away from his trees. It’s not uncommon for people experiencing problems with wildlife to view the animal as the property of “someone else.” By law, wildlife belongs to all of us. A hunting license allows an individual to harvest a set number at a certain time of year. Watching wildlife is also highly valued by many people and has no season. Many hunters place a high value on watching all wildlife while hunting for one species.

As wildlife biologists, our relationship with wildlife also changes, depending on situation and time of the year. Three weeks ago, we were working a moose-hunting registration stations, where we collect biological data from moose brought in by hunters. I’ve always enjoyed doing this mainly because it is such a positive experience for so many hunters. These stations also draw people who just want to see, photograph, and often touch a moose. Evewry year in Eustis, two vans from an assisted living center in Farmington bring residents to watch the whole process.

Yesterday morning we received a call from district game warden Reggie Hammond of Rangeley. He was called by the Navy’s SERE School (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) in Redington Township. They encountered a bull moose tangled in a parachute. It is not uncommon for bull moose to get tangled up in ropes, wire, TV/phone cable, or fencing left hanging or on the ground. The lucky ones are found by caring people like the Navy folks at SERE.

After deciding to help the moose, the second good decision made was to notify the Maine Warden Service and not try to untangle the moose themselves. Moose are notoriously unappreciative of such assistance. A few years ago an experienced outdoorsman attempted to untangle a large bull ensnared in cable wire. He cut the moose free and got stomped as a thank you. His injuries were severe enough to warrant a life-flight to the hospital.

Upon receiving the call, assistant regional wildlife biologist Bob Cordes and I gathered up our capture and immobilization gear and headed to Redington. The moose was a 2-year-old bull and we estimated it to weigh 750 pounds. Bob prepared the drug dosage and combination while I gave a quick talk on chemical immobilization, do’s and don’ts, and how each of the Navy instructors could help. While most of us stayed back a few hundred yards and out of sight, Bob and one of the Navy instructors approached the moose from behind and delivered the drug via a dart and dart projector (gun).

Moose are difficult to handle mainly because heat and stress are lethal combinations. Stress affects the ability of the drug to work. The moose was still highly agitated, meaning he hadn’t been tangled up for a long time. Air temperature in the 30s was in our favor.

The drugs we use disengage the animal’s ability to use voluntary muscles, but they can see and hear. Any stimulation including voices, touch, or light affects the ability for the drug to work.

After 15 minutes the moose was down and out. Snoring is good and is a sign we look for before handling the animal. Everyone worked to prop the moose onto his chest and keep him up (sternal position) with the hay bales we brought. Moose, like cows, are ruminants, and they would have serious gas build-up if left on their sides for long. His head was positioned so his airway was clear. Then the Navy instructors put their knives to work and cleared the moose of the parachute, cord, and a small log. I gave him a dose of eye ointment, as they will dry while under very long.

We cover their eyes with towels to help reduce stimulation from light. The dart is removed and the minor cut is treated. Vital signs are monitored and recorded and they include temperature, heartbeat, and respiration. His body temperature ranged from 100.1 to 101.2 during the two hours he was under. Had his temperature gone to 103, we would have taken measures to lower it, but that was never a problem. After an hour and a half he started to show signs of recovery, and we administered a drug to reverse the effects, and 15 minutes later he was up and able to walk off.

About every two years, wildlife biologists at IFW receive really good training in wildlife chemical immobilization. If it is decided to use drugs to immobilize an animal, the animal is treated like a patient. In fact, the process the animal goes through is very close to what you would go through when going under anesthesia. It is not a simple procedure.

Because our “patients” are wild and scared, successful outcomes for the animal are not a sure thing. Plus, drug injection to the right spot often has to be delivered through the air, from a gun.

Yesterday was a good day and all went well. This would not have been possible without the action and assistance by the Navy SERE instructors.

-Chuck Hulsey, Regional Wildlife Biologist