The
animal measures about 400 millimetres in length,
with the tail occupying a further 200 millimetres.
The ears are thin and rabbit-like, the nose long
and pointed and the grey fur soft and silky. The
tail is black at the base and white and tufted at
the tip.
In the
early days of settlement, the Dalgyte was
plentiful in what is now the wheat belt, and no
entirely satisfactory explanation has been
presented for the population crash which occurred
about 50 years ago. An infectious disease which
depleted many animals about the turn of last
century probably played it’s part, but extensive
clearing for agriculture and the spread of the fox
and the feral cat must have helped. Another
important factor was the control campaign against
the rabbit, which involved not only poisoning
(probably harmless to the dalgyte), but burrow
fumigation and ripping. Anything that looked like
a rabbit burrow was treated and so the
harmless dalgyte was a frequent, if unintended,
victim.
Although Dalgytes have vanished from many of their
former haunts, evidence of their earlier presence
still exists in the form of old disused burrows. I
noticed one of these in a farm paddock at Northam
at least 20 years after the last dalgyte had
vanished from the district. Dalgyte colonies still
survive in the North-west and the Warburton Ranges
and the World Wildlife Fund recently made funds
available for a special study of these isolated
groups.
Fortunately, the dalgyte is very well adapted to
arid conditions and may be able to make a
last-ditch stand in the dry interior. Their
nocturnal habits and deep burrows are a protection
from daytime extremes of temperature and the fact
that plugs of soil are often found blocking the
tunnel suggests that this is a further adaptation
to reduce evaporation. Even the large rabbit-like
ears may have a special use. Thin broad ears are
found in the fennec, or desert fox of Africa, as
well as in several other desert animals and tests
have shown that these ears act as a kind of
radiator, allowing the animal to lose heat from
the expanded surface, which is very well supplied
with blood vessels. My first experience of the
dalgyte was in the Northam district in 1926.
Dalgytes were common at the time and were regarded
as a nuisance by some farmers, who mistakenly
believed that when the animals burrowed in a
paddock, they were eating the roots of the crop.
In actual fact, the creatures were digging in
search of root damaging insects and I soon learned
to distinguish the conical scratchings of the
dalgyte, so common around trees and bushes, from
the one-sided scrapings of destructive rabbits.
Few
animals are better adapted for burrowing than the dalgyte: it’s fore feet are provided with long
powerful claws, and the pouch, which is quite well
developed, opens backwards so that the mother need
have no fear of giving her offspring a shower of
sand when digging for food. The burrows have but
one opening and usually descend in a spiral, often
to a depth of almost two metres. Pioneer
naturalist grazier, Bruce Leake, recorded that the
Aboriginal women had great difficulty in capturing
dalgytes for food as the animals could dig as fast
as their would-be captors, and the hunt would
resolve itself into an endurance test, with the
dalgyte the usual winner. My own observations
strongly support this, for even with the help of
my brother and a post-hold shovel instead of an
Aboriginal digging stick, I never succeeded in
unearthing a dalgyte from its burrow and all my
captures were made with strategically set traps
