History of Raphus cucullatus

In the Indian Ocean, off the southeast coast of Africa, is a huge island called Madagascar. Just a bit farther east is a tiny island called Mauritius. There, in the woods near the water, lived a bird named Raphus cucullatus; or for short, as affectionately nicknamed in this book, Raph. This bird was descended from a proud old family of pigeons and doves. But in many ways, Raph was a bird of a different feather.

Raph was a big bird, standing more than three feet tall and weighing more than thirty pounds. Raph had brown-gray feathers all over its body, a little extra tuft of feathers for a tail, but no feathers at all on its head. In fact, Raph’s last name, cucullatus, means “wearing a hood.” Raph’s beak was very large: black, yellow, and red, with a huge bulb for smelling. Like a turkey, Raph kept rocks in its gizzard for grinding up swallowed food. Raph’s wings were too weak to fly. But with big yellow feet and strong sturdy legs, Raph could walk around just fine. And there was plenty of ground food, mostly nuts and fruits.

Raph’s favorite fruit was the Tambalacoque, a round, juicy kind of peach with a woody pit containing its seeds. Raph enjoyed picking up Tambalacoque fruit with its beak and grinding up the pit with stones in its gizzard.

On the little island of Mauritius, Raph had plenty of friends and no enemies. With nothing to fear, there was no need to fly. Raph only needed to lay one egg at a time to ensure its family’s survival.

Even if Raph was a different kind of bird, Mauritius suited Raph just fine. And in one very special way, Raph suited the island of Mauritius.

Not only did Raph get big eating Tambalacoque fruit, the Tambalacoque tree flourished thanks to Raph. Each time Raph ate Tambalacoque fruit, seeds germinated in Raph’s intestines. With each poop, Raph disseminated Tambalacoque seeds. The more Tambalacoque fruit Raph ate, the more Tambalacoque seeds were planted. A win-win, bird-tree relationship! Talk about recycling! Propagation through defecation!

For thousands of years, there were no human beings on the island of Mauritius. But then, starting in the 1500s, Portuguese explorers made occasional visits. The Raphinae family’s first sustained encounters with people were not until about 1600, when Dutch sailors came to Mauritius. They had never seen birds like Raph. These birds didn’t know flight or fear. They were defenseless and naive. The Dutch easily killed them, ate them, and destroyed their habitat. The Dutch boats also brought cats, rats, pigs, and monkeys. These nonnative animals ate the Raphinae family’s eggs. Extinction came quickly.

This strange bird is now known as the “dodo.” It’s not clear how such a derogatory name originated. The most generous explanation is that “dodo” might have been an approximation of the bird’s call, a two-note pigeon-like sound, “doo-doo.” More likely, and still not so bad, “dodo” might have been a term related to the Dutch word Dodaars, which means either “fat-arse” or “knot-arse,” referring to the tuft of feathers on its hind end. But because these flightless and fearless birds were so easily caught, it’s likely that “dodo” came from the Dutch word dodoor for “sluggard” or the Portuguese word doudo (currently doido), meaning “fool” or “crazy.” Despite this uncertainty about origins, everybody today knows to “go the way of the dodo” means to be “dead as a dodo” because you clearly must have been “stupid as a dodo.”

The last living bird from the Raphinae family was seen in 1662. But the name “dodo”—and a very important message—lives on.

History of the Tambalacoque Tree

Sideroxylon grandiflorum, known as the Tambalacoque tree, is endemic to the island of Mauritius. It is a majestic tree with many strong roots and sprawling, thick branches that provide plenty of shade. Each tree normally lives for hundreds of years.

As you have already read, the Raphinae family needed the Tambalacoque tree for food, and the tree needed the bird to be its “Johnny Appleseed.” Up through its extinction in the seventeenth century, Raphinae ate the Tambalacoque fruit and spread the seeds. Because of this mutually beneficial relationship, the Tambalacoque became known as the “dodo tree.” But if so linked in life, what would keep the “dodo” and “dodo tree” from being likewise linked in death? Was the Tambalacoque tree too dependent on the Raphinae?

Over the centuries, since the last of the Raphinae died, there has been a steady decline in the number of Tambalacoque trees. But this sad story has a hopeful epilogue. Ironically, the rapid extinction of the Raphinae helped inspire the wildlife conservation movement. Raphus became a powerful early “poster bird” for protection of other endangered species. Locally, alarmed by the dodo bird’s fate, Mauritians devoted themselves to saving its namesake tree. Globally, recognition of the bird and tree’s mutual decline served as a cautionary tale about the interconnection of all life. To whatever degree Raph’s extinction endangered the Tambalacoque, their relationship shed light on the importance of protecting individual species for the sake of entire ecosystems.

The seventeenth century was a terrible time to be a flightless bird. There were no conservationists around to save the Raphinae. But their extinction made the twenty-first century a more encouraging time for the Tambalacoque tree. Legions now rally to protect the Tambalacoque tree and the diversity of all natural life. One can only wonder: What if Raph was alive today? Would it be listed as an endangered species? Would hunting be illegal? Would people defend its habitat? Moreover, would it still be called a dodo bird?