Maden Dam

African pied wagtail.

This was published in Leisure on June 16, 2001, under the headline, “Of near misses and little wagtails”.

I HAVE a theory about the Cape wagtail. We all know the little bird with the black breast band which will land nonchalantly on the lawn near you – after all the other birds have fled the garden on your arrival to hang out the washing.

With its tail bobbing up and down, while issuing a shrill, squeaky call, it will set about foraging in the grass for worms and mites.

And my theory is that it is taking advantage of the human presence. Its apparent tameness is a ploy. It knows it is too quick to be in any real danger from a person – in the rare likelihood that anyone would want to do it any harm.

So, while the doves, sparrows and starlings are away, it makes hay.

But this isn’t an article about the Cape wagtail.

As a relative newcomer to bird-watching, I recently had my first sighting of its close relation, which I had not known existed: the pied wagtail.

Rarely, if ever, seen in Port Elizabeth and environs, I encountered the pied version during a trip to the picturesque Maden Dam, about 40km outside King William’s Town.

Setting off from East London over the Easter weekend, we were initially on the look-out for Cape parrots, which are known to feed on the cashew nut plantations near King, but actually live in the indigenous forest which runs along the edge of the Amatola Mountains.

Cape parrot

Sadly, we were a bit late and never spotted any parrots heading home after an early morning binge. About 20km inland of King, on the Stutterheim road, you turn left onto gravel and, before long, you are at the Rooikrantz Dam. A little upstream lies the stately old Maden Dam, which was built in 1910 and was full to overflowing when we were there. After spotting some yellow-eyed canaries near the car park – plentiful in the East London area but rarely seen in Port Elizabeth – we set off on a walk along the edge of the lake.

Cape otter

And our first sighting had me thinking Loch Ness Monster thoughts. Except, the curved brown shape playing in the water a few metres from the shore was small – and soon identified as a Cape clawless otter.

Our walk along the edge of the dam was punctuated by near misses. At one point a flourish of big wings indicated a giant kingfisher, but the bird was seen only fleetingly, so there was no certainty there.

Further on, a possible green-backed heron or dwarf bittern – according to my knowledgeable nephew and guide, Dylan Weyer – flew out of a thicket of reeds to our right, and disappeared in the forest a few metres away – again unidentified. A little later, two raptors were heard and fleetingly seen through the thick canopy, but disappeared before we could determine what they were, although Dylan said they may have been black sparrow-hawks. A chattering of vervet monkeys had earlier alerted us to the presence of these raptors, which are among their main predators.

But we did get lucky a few times. A brilliant-yellow forest weaver was seen for some time from across a narrow stream that feeds the dam. This was at a point where the six-day, 105km Amatola Trail begins (it ends at Hogsback), as well as a separate three-hour walk to Sandile’s cave.

Cape batis

We did not have that sort of time available, but on our return walk struck it lucky when a mini-bird party yielded, well, many mini-birds. These included a couple of delightful brown, white and black Cape batises, along with yellow-throated warblers and yellow-breasted apalises.

Back at the carpark, we set out to explore the area below the dam wall, and were rewarded when a magnificent crowned eagle hove majestically into view.

Then, back at the car, as we were about to set off, a shrill, insistent call from the roof of a little building on the dam wall caught our attention.

It was a wagtail, but not the grey and white Cape version. No this species was stark black and white – a pied wagtail – which is apparently highly territorial, hence the loud chirping from such a small (20cm) bird.

Golden-breasted bunting

As so often happens, some of our best sightings occurred on the gravel stretch while travelling back to the main road. Bringing back memories of a recent trip to the Addo Elephant Park, we spotted the conspicuous black and white lines on the head of a golden-breasted bunting.

Red-throated wryneck

On the ground beside the road, several swee waxbills busied themselves in the long grass. And then, to cap it all, a red-throated wryneck was seen, an unexpected bonus.