He’s known as “The Inquisitive One”
Zuni Fish and Wildlife director and biologist Nelson Luna
opened the door to the eagle refuge’s main flyway, a
100-by-25-foot space with 18-foot slatted walls. Shade dappled
the gravel-covered floor and made the Zuni Eagle Sanctuary a
pleasant haven from western New Mexico’s brilliant high-desert
sun. In the refuge, Luna and environmental technician Alfonso
Penketewa care for 26 injured eagles—13 golden and 13 bald—that
wouldn’t survive if released. Birds bathed in shallow pools.
Others sprinted short distances or flew the length of the space,
feathers floating in their wake. Occasionally, they shrieked—a
wild, piercing cry.
On a shelf-like perch at one end of the flyway, a young bald
eagle cocked his head at the sight of strangers accompanying
Luna.
“What’s this?” I imagined him thinking. The eagle swiveled
his head to make eye contact with Luna—to seek reassurance?—then
turned back to scrutinize the visitors.
“I call him The Inquisitive One,” said Luna. “He’s observant
and intelligent. I think I can glove-train him to use for
demonstrations of traditional eagle husbandry to schools and
community groups. He should learn quickly.” The Inquisitive One
is living in the refuge because he broke his right shoulder, and
it healed with a droop that doesn’t allow him to fly properly.
A strapping bald eagle standing nearby pivoted her
white-helmeted head so her right eye was facing us. “Her name is
Liberty, and she’s here because she has partial sight in that
eye and is blind in the other one,” Luna explained.
He pointed out a few more blind or partially sighted eagles.
The ones that were running instead of flying had broken or
amputated wings—the result of gunshots, collisions with vehicles
or power lines, or other accidents. One had a paralyzed foot
Luna said was beginning to respond to massage. Another had
nervous-system damage, probably the result of lead poisoning.
This happens when eagles feed on the carcasses of game animals
or wildfowl that were shot with lead bullets or pellets.
The biggest eagles were from cold regions like Alaska, where
their relatively large size helps them retain body warmth.
Liberty was one of these, as was a female golden, Ivy, who had
staked out a four-foot cylindrical perch made to look like a
tree stump. Eagles from warm areas like Florida were the
smallest birds there.
Along one side of the main flyway were a series of smaller
aviaries holding birds that needed special care or had recently
arrived from around the country—some of the 40 the sanctuary has
accepted since it opened in 1999. These were adjusting to the
local climate and getting ready to be moved into the main
convocation, the term for a group of eagles. “They have to get
used to each other and figure out their pecking order,” said
Luna.
Sometimes birds go into side mews because they’ve behaved
aggressively and need to be segregated to preserve the safety of
all. “It’s their time-out room,” Luna said with a laugh.
Luna currently cares for 13 golden eagles, such as the one
seen here, as well as 13 bald eagles. (Joseph Zummo)
He picked up a few feathers from the ground. “They’re
collected daily,” he said, indicating a long broken feather as
he nodded with a smile toward The Inquisitive One. “We have to
get to them before he does. He likes to play with feathers and
can end up breaking them.”
In a later interview, the pueblo’s lieutenant governor, Steve
K. Boone, remarked on the eagles’ distinctive personalities and
the undeniable charm that leavens their fierce majesty. “We Zuni
have always considered them members of the family,” he said. “We
raised them from fledglings, and they lived among us their
entire lifespan. We took care of them, and they took care of
us.” He said the Zunis cherish those in the sanctuary, looking
after them as they would tribal members who are elderly or
disabled.
Zuni’s 12,000 tribal members use eagle feathers to meet
religious and cultural obligations—sometimes daily, according to
Luna. Because historically Zunis raised eagles within the
pueblo, they had the feathers needed to ensure the strength of
healing prayers, among other uses. However, starting in 1940,
federal law required Native Americans to request feathers and
other eagle parts through the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s
(FWS) National Eagle Repository, in Colorado. (Though bald
eagles are no longer on the federal list of threatened and
endangered species, they remain protected under other
regulations.) Because demand was high, wait times were long—as
many as several years, said Joe Early, Native American liaison
for the service’s Southwest region, which has offices in Denver.
The delay was not practicable for traditional Zuni Pueblo. In
talking to the service about ways to
Two bald eagles have become best friends. (Joseph Zummo)
shorten the waiting period, the tribe learned in the early
1990s that veterinarians were euthanizing badly injured eagles
they believed would never heal well enough to survive in the
wild. “At that time, there were no permitted facilities for
disabled but otherwise healthy birds,” explained Early, who is
from the Pueblo of Laguna. Zoos weren’t taking them because they
prefer to exhibit perfect specimens, nor were rehabilitators,
who nurse eagles back to health then might use them for
educational demonstrations. The injured eagles weren’t useful
for master falconers who hunt with eagles. According to the law,
these groups are in line after Native Americans for the species,
said Early.
Zuni decided to build the first Native American aviary for
nonreleasable eagles. “They said, ‘Send them to us. We’ll care
for them,’ ” said Early. As the eagles naturally molted their
feathers, these were collected for tribal members’ use.
The tribe’s architect-designed aviary is made of locally cut,
hand-shaped red sandstone and sustainably harvested wood. It
cost $75,000 in private funding, along with in-kind
donations—mostly time—from community members. The sanctuary
received a design award from the American Institute of
Architecture the year it opened, in 1999, and three years later,
it got a High Honors Award from the Harvard Project on American
Indian Economic Development.
A testimonial for the Harvard award described the sanctuary
as “combining functional aspects of eagle care with an aesthetic
that reflects the natural surroundings of Zuni.” And it called
the idea behind it a “paradigm shift” in tribal sovereignty,
transforming the relationship with the federal government and
giving a tribe control over a sensitive need. In this, said the
testimonial, Zuni’s sanctuary became a model for efforts of all
sorts by other tribes.
Since the Zuni sanctuary opened its doors, more tribes have
built refuges. The Iowa Tribe of Oklahoma takes both
nonreleasable eagles and those its specialists think will
eventually be able to fend for themselves. “The Iowa program has
been very successful,” said Early. “Eight eagles have been
rehabilitated and released, and three more are about to be.”
The Comanche Nation of Oklahoma is breeding eagles that will
remain in captivity and be used as demonstration birds and
sources of feathers for regalia and ceremonies. Both the Iowa
and the Comanche programs are doing genetic research,
particularly into conditions, like brittle feathers, that have
appeared among eagles. “The research benefits the species and
the scientific community,” said Early.
The Citizen Potawatomi Nation of Oklahoma and the Navajo
Nation Zoo and Botanical Park, in Arizona, have eagles as well.
At Jemez Pueblo, in New Mexico, two tribal members have permits
for small aviaries. The San Carlos Apache Nation, in Arizona,
has received a grant for a refuge, and Fort Belknap Indian
Reservation, in Montana, will open the first tribal sanctuary
outside the Southwest.
More tribes are considering aviaries, according to Pat
Durham, the FWS’s senior Native American liaison, in Arlington,
Virginia. “We accept the next round of proposals for eagle
refuges and other wildlife programs in September 2013,” he said.
Having several aviaries in operation has taken some pressure off
FWS waiting lists, though they’re still long, especially for
certain highly prized tail feathers, said Early. The service is
in the process of talking to the tribes about ways to expedite
the process.
The existing aviaries’ professionals also share ideas and
consult with those hoping to start programs, Early said. Luna
confirmed, “We at Zuni have talked to at least 12 interested
tribes.”
At the Zuni sanctuary, the eagles eat animals donated by the
community and a meat-based commercial mix. Occasionally, a small
bird has the misfortune to flutter through their airspace. They
also get fresh road-kill, which explains the five-foot-wide rack
of antlers in a corner of the eagles’ examination room. In that
room, the birds also receive periodic physicals from Luna and
Penketewa, who check muscle mass (an indicator of overall
conditioning) and look for foot infections, because these eagles
spend more time on the ground than they normally would. The
birds also see a zoo veterinarian annually and receive vaccines
for West Nile virus and other blood-borne infections.
Zuni religious societies helped establish within the
community two additional, smaller aviaries where families care
for two nonreleasable golden eagles, and Luna would like to set
up more satellite facilities in the pueblo: “Kids would acquire
the food, clean the aviary and grow up knowing how to look after
eagles.” He knows the relationships developed would be
meaningful and lifelong.
According to Early, the injuries of nonreleasable eagles mean
their lifespan is typically on the low end of the 12 to 20 years
they might attain in the wild. Said Luna: “The longest lifespan
I’ve heard of for any eagle was one that died at 56 after being
cared for by succeeding generations of a Zuni family.” Zuni
traditional eagle husbandry made that longevity possible, he
said.
Today’s tribal members continue to value their eagles, Luna
said. Before turning to go, he surveyed the airy space. The
birds were still and quiet—poised on perches and on the rims of
pools. Two bald eagles stood together companionably about
halfway down one long side of the flyway. The Inquisitive One
was eyeing us intently, and Ivy was magnificent on her high
perch, gazing at us over her broad golden shoulder.
“When I feel stressed, I come into the aviary and reflect on
their lives,” Luna said. “The spirit they emanate lessens my
problems and makes me whole. In that sense, they are healers.”
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Eagle
Repository Services
The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service’s (FWS) National Eagle
Repository in Commerce City, Colorado, northeast of Denver, has
a wide range of services and information, according to Joe
Early, FWS’s Native liaison for the Southwest region. For
example, you can contact the repository at 303-287-2110 or by
clicking
here if you:
• are an enrolled member of a federally recognized tribe
wishing to obtain eagles, parts and/or loose feathers;
• are a qualified Native traveling overseas with a feather and
need a permit to ensure it will not be seized when entering
foreign countries;
• find a dead eagle. Do not touch it as it may have avian flu or
other illnesses, said Early. The repository will arrange for a
local expert to collect it.