The TV cameras started to roll when he called again and on fluttering wings, a young falcon descended from one of the high trees onto the clearing and landed a few metres in front of the boy. Without hesitation or fear, the little bird stepped forward and gently took a piece of meat from the boy’s fingers.
It was a moving scene of mutual trust, which touched the hearts of many viewers when it was eventually broadcast nationwide. The film crew was from 50/50, who heard about this remarkable relationship between this seemingly wild falcon and young Fernando Maranta, whose friendship developed after their paths crossed on his father’s smallholding on the outskirts of Pretoria. ‘Birdie’ was a young greater kestrel and wasn’t truly wild. I raised him on my smallholding about 5km away, after he was brought to me as a chick. The old windpomp, on which he and his three siblings were born in a disused crow’s nest, had been blown over in a storm. He was the only survivor of the fall. When he was almost ready to fly, I released him, but the wind blew him away. Fortunately he and Fernando found each other and his rehabilitation was eventually successful.

Sweethearts to falconer and farmer alike
Falcons have a very calm and trusting nature, and the small, hovering falcons are the most timid of them all. In Southern Africa we have seven of them, which can collectively be called kestrels. Four of these are residents, which are here year-round. They are the greater and rock kestrels, which are widely distributed across the country, while the grey and Dickenson’s kestrels are rare tropical species, of which the southern limits of their distribution fall just within our subcontinent.
The other three – the lesser kestrel, as well as both the eastern and western red-footed kestrels – are Palaearctic migrants, which are here only during summer.

Kestrels are valuable allies to farmers, as they feed mainly on insects, with the odd rodent or small bird falling prey whenever the opportunity presents itself. This makes them extremely vulnerable to any pesticide-contaminated locusts, mice or quelea.
Greater kestrel: taking the fall for crows
Of all our kestrels, the greater kestrel is the largest and only falcon in the world that doesn’t have black eyes. Although the immature kestrel has dark brown eyes, its iris becomes progressively lighter with age until it turns ivory white with adulthood.
They were once very common in the Free State and the arid west, but their numbers have dwindled sharply, not only from pesticides, but also due to their relationship with crows.
Like all falcons, they never build nests. The open, dry country usually doesn’t offer many mountain or rock ledges for breeding, which makes them completely dependent on other birds’ nests, especially crows, whose needless eradication as “vermin” had serious consequences for greater kestrels and lanner falcons.

Rock kestrels: the hovering specialists
Our second resident, the rock kestrel, occurs throughout Southern Africa and prefers hilly or mountainous terrain, but having less specialised nest-site requirements, it has no nesting problems and occurs even in the Namib and featureless plains of Botswana. Utilising both natural sites and manmade structures, they’ll use ledges, holes and hollows along cliffs, hillsides or dongas, old quarries, road-cuttings, high buildings or bridges and lacking this, use vacant nests of crows and other raptors in trees.

The rock kestrel is a hover-specialist, able to keep its head absolutely still even in strong wind, while the rest of its body, with winnowing wings and spread tail, is a blur of motion against the sky. They also have exceptional eyes, able to detect ultraviolet light reflected by trails of urine-dribbling mice in the grass.

Migratory kestrels: a dwindling species
In summer, by far the most numerous kestrels are the three migratory species. Red-footed and lesser kestrels often assemble on overhead powerlines along our roads, but their present numbers is a mere shadow of the countless thousands that used to invade our countryside way back when I was a child.
They used to overload telephone lines and the mass of roosting lesser kestrels frequently tore large bluegum trees apart. They came from Europe and Asia, as far away as Scandinavia, Siberia, Mongolia and China – almost 10 000km away. Some flew the last 3 000km from India to Africa over the Indian Ocean, without stopping. They came here with one purpose – to glut themselves on tons of our abundant insects, of which locusts and termites were the main items on the menu.
Fattened and fertile, they could return, as they had for millennia, to breed again on the other side of the globe. This natural balance enabled our grandfathers to farm and get rich, producing healthy food without poison threatening our health.
This delicate balance came to an end in the last century when millions of kestrels and other predators perished in the Karoo. During 1985 and 1988 alone, the agriculture department, with the grateful blessing of the global chemical community, fruitlessly dumped 6 million kilograms of the now-banned carcinogen lindane, against locust.
This ill-considered campaign and the loss of all these millions of kestrels over the years can’t be undone. It had a global effect that will undoubtedly not only have a detrimental effect on the cost of food production, but even on food security, both here and in Eurasia, because you can’t ever turn back the clock.
Contact Abré J Steyn on 083 235 4822 or e-mail abrejsteyn@vodamail.co.za.     |fw