the NZ native bat that pollinates and forages on foot
- Size
- Length: 6–8 cm, Weight: 12–18 g
- Lifespan
- 10–15 years
- Diet
- Insectivorous. Feeds on insects, spiders, and other small invertebrates. Unique among bats for its ability to forage on the ground, using its folded wings as front legs to climb and scramble.
- Habitat
- Pristine, old-growth forests with deep leaf litter and massive, hollowed-out roost trees. Secretive inhabitants of the deep North Island, South Island, and Codfish Island forests, where the canopy is dense and the floor is undisturbed.
- Range
- Now restricted to pristine, old-growth forests with deep leaf litter and massive, hollowed-out roost trees. Found in the central North Island (Pureora, Whirinaki, Tongariro), the West Coast of the South Island, and Codfish Island (Whenua Hou).
- Endemism
- Endemic
- Main Threats
- Predation by rats and stoats is the primary threat. Also threatened by habitat loss from forest clearance and the removal of old-growth roost trees. Classified as At Risk - Recovering, with populations slowly increasing in areas with intensive predator control.
- Population
- Once widespread, they are now conservation dependent, flourishing only in areas where intensive, large-scale predator control has neutralised the threat of rats and stoats. Populations are slowly recovering in managed sanctuaries.
- Conservation Status
- At Risk - Recovering
Arguably the most unusual flying mammal in the world, this bat has essentially spent the last few million years trying to figure out how to be a mouse. While other bats are specialised for aerial manoeuvres and catching insects mid-air, the Peka-peka-tou-poto has evolved to spend a massive portion of its life on the ground. It possesses a suite of physical adaptations that are unique to the Mystacinidae family. Its wings fold away into protective, leathery sheaths, and its elbows and feet are equipped with specialised claws that allow it to scramble, run, and burrow through the leaf litter with a frantic, quadrupedal gait. It does not just fly. It hikes. It crawls. It burrows. It is a bat that has reclaimed the forest floor as its primary hunting ground, moving through the darkness like a caffeinated rodent that just happens to have the option of flight if things get dangerous.
This terrestrial lifestyle makes the lesser short-tailed bat a critical component of the New Zealand forest ecosystem. They are the only pollinators of the rare Dactylanthus taylorii (Te Pua o te Rēinga or Flower of the Underworld), a parasitic plant that grows entirely at ground level. The bat lands on the forest floor, crawls to the flower, and drinks the nectar, emerging with its face covered in pollen. Their diet is incredibly varied, encompassing everything from large flightless insects and spiders to fruit and pollen. They are the janitors of the forest night, recycling nutrients and ensuring the survival of specialised plant species. They live in massive communal roosts within the hollow hearts of ancient trees, some of which have been occupied for centuries, where the internal temperature is kept warm by the collective body heat of hundreds of bats.
However, being a ground-dwelling bat in a country now infested with rats, cats, and stoats is an extremely dangerous proposition. The very behaviours that made the Peka-peka-tou-poto so successful in a predator-free New Zealand, burrowing into leaf litter and nesting in accessible tree hollows, made them incredibly easy targets for introduced mammals. By the mid-20th century, their range had contracted significantly, and several populations were on the brink of total collapse. Their current status of At Risk - Recovering is a direct result of some of the most intensive conservation work in the world. Large-scale aerial predator control and the creation of mainland islands have allowed these bats to bounce back in spectacular fashion in places like the Pureora Forest and Eglinton Valley.
The lesser short-tailed bat is a living testament to the strangeness and resilience of New Zealand's ancient fauna. It is a tiny, twelve-gram mammal that carries the evolutionary weight of sixteen million years. When you stand in an old-growth forest at dusk, you are not just looking for something flying overhead. You are listening for the faint, high-pitched scuttle of a bat that is busy working the dirt. They are the architects of the deep forest night, and their recovery is a signal that we are finally learning how to share the floor with them. The Peka-peka-tou-poto is still here, still running through the leaves, and still proving that sometimes, the best way to be a bat is to walk.