As a hunting bat closes in on a flying insect, its echolocation calls get closer and closer together, and shorter and shorter in duration. The calls, more than 160 per second, give the bat rapid-fire information on the location of its ever-moving prey.

To the human ear, the calls register as one continuous sound. Researchers call it the “terminal buzz,” and until recently, scientists did not fully understand how bats produced it.

Bats use muscles in the larynx to produce sound, just like humans, but scientists had never found a mammal muscle that could turn on and off that quickly.

"You can tap your finger on a table, and you can try to tap your finger as fast as you possibly can," said Andy Mead, a biology graduate student at the University of Pennsylvania. Eventually, your muscles seize up and you can’t tap any faster, Mead said. “You can probably tap five, six, seven times a second if you really try.”

As part of a research team led by Coen Elemans from the University of Southern Denmark , Mead found muscles in a bat larynx that could turn on and off in less than one one-hundredth of a second, firing up to 180 times a second.

"It was instantaneously really shocking and exciting to see yes, this is a very, very fast muscle," Mead said.

The discovery marked the first evidence of a “superfast” muscle in a mammal. Superfast muscles are responsible for the rattle of a rattlesnake and the mating call of the bottom-dwelling toadfish and some songbirds, but the discovery of the muscles in mammals leads researchers to believe they may be more common than they thought. They are also key to the evolutionary success of bats, which are the only flying mammals to use echolocation to hunt.

See the original story from our partners at WHYY.

Additional Links

• Scientific community unites to save bats: Bats are dying at rapid rates of the mysterious white nose syndrome. Learn about efforts in Pennsylvania to study the disease.

Peregrine Falcon. Photo: Glenn Nevill at kqedquest.

This time of year, you may see birds of prey, with their wings outstretched, circling overhead. It is nesting season, and raptors will nest in trees, on cliffs and, in our urban environment, on the ledges of tall buildings. But the shared history of humans and raptors is far older than the concept of urban wildlife. Humans have been practicing falconry—caring for and hunting with raptors—for close to 4000 years. This week’s Science on the SPOT story, Peregrine Falcons Up Close, is about a falcon named Bella, a retired falconry bird who now lives at the San Francisco Zoo.

In falconry, a human cares for a bird of prey, and trains it to hunt. The bird hunts on behalf of the human. This relationship has created some controversy, but first, a bit more about how falconry works.

To learn more about the practice of falconry, I spoke to my friend Rikki Shackleford, an apprentice falconer. Rikki got interested in falconry when he was working at an environmental education school. The school was caring for a Red-tailed Hawk that had been hit by a car. Unsure of how to care for the bird, Rikki contacted a local falconer. Rikki got hooked.

Falconry is tightly regulated at both the state and federal level. To own a bird, you need a license, and you need to apprentice with an experienced falconer for two years. Once you’ve completed your apprenticeship, you can get a general license and own up to three birds, of almost any species. With a master license, you can own up to 5 birds. After you’ve had a master license for 7 years, you can own an eagle. The California Hawking Club and the North American Falconers Association have more information about the licensing and practice of falconry.

Red-tailed Hawk. Photo: Ron Wolf at kqedquest.

Rikki has a Red-tailed Hawk, named Nut, which he trapped in the wild last year. There are strict rules about how and when falconers can catch birds. Only passage birds—sexually immature birds less than a year old and on their first migration— can be caught. And falconers can only catch certain species. Many species, including endangered birds, are off-limits. However, falconers can get rare birds, like Peregrine Falcons, from captive breeding programs. Rikki intends to free Nut when she is three years old, when she’s old enough to breed. Because she was caught in the wild, and learned to hunt on her own before she hunted with Rikki, he can return her to the wild. Birds from captive breeding programs cannot be released. When captive-bred birds get old and can no longer hunt effectively, they can go back into captive breeding programs, or be cared for a by a zoo, like Bella.

Rikki flies Nut every day at a local park, and she hunts a few times a week. Each time Nut catches prey, she brings it back to Rikki. He rewards her with food—most of the time, prey that she has previously caught. The idea that the raptor is hunting for the human is controversial—anyone who is against hunting would probably be against falconry. And the concept that a wild animal is kept in captivity can definitely ruffle some feathers. Rikki counters these arguments: Nut would hunt without him, he says, and would probably hunt more often, because she can’t store the leftovers in the freezer. And Rikki contends that his relationship with Nut is the same as any relationship a human has with an animal—a dog, a cat, a horse—it’s just a little less common. However, Red-tailed Hawks haven’t been domesticated for generations like dogs and cats; Nut was born wild.

A Peregrine Falcon named Gracie flies by the Bay Bridge. Photo: Glenn Nevill at kqedquest.

While there are many objections to the practice of falconry, the Peregrine Falcon has falconers to thank for its continued existence. Peregrine Falcons were on the edge of extinction in the 1970s, because the pesticide DDT made their eggshells perilously thin. However, falconers had healthy Peregrine Falcons in captive breeding programs; offspring from these captive-bred falcons were carefully raised without human contact and were introduced to the wild. Because of these efforts and the ban of DDT, Peregrine Falcons were removed from the Endangered Species List in 1999.

Learn more about falcons in the Science on the SPOT story, Peregrine Falcons Up Close, and the QUEST story Falcon Fascination. Also, check out the falcon Nest Cam at San Jose City Hall.

37.8793 -122.245

QUEST Producer Chris Bauer rides into the hunt in the back of a pick-up truck.

"Oh, we’ll get letters."

I knew going into this story that we might ruffle some feathers. But one of the things that made this story so intriguing to me is that it would bring up some questions about where people stand on what can be a pretty touchy subject.

So full disclosure – I generally side myself on the side of environmentalists, naturalists and true scientists. I think extremism one way or the other is generally not a good idea. I believe in the overwhelming scientific evidence that global climate change is happening and human behavior is the root cause. I'm pro-open space. I like clean air and water. I support the restoration of native ecosystems. I champion native plants and animals. I am against pollution, invasive species and uncontrolled urban sprawl. Some things we judge for ourselves one side or the other. Such as, I am for native song birds and against feral cats. But some other things don’t tie up into a pretty package. For example, I love natural ecosystems but I am not ready to support clear-cutting the cypress trees in The Presidio. I'm not a hunter. But I eat meat. I may feel some pangs of guilt when I see an animal shot but those feelings are rarely there when I purchase meat at the grocery store. I like my barbecue. That’s me. (If you eat meat too, check out our great Quest radio story on Low-Carbon Diets and get a preview of the letters we’ll receive regarding this story.)

So where do you stand? And what happens if your stances are on opposite sides of the fence? Perhaps you are for clean energy and also happen to care for the native bird populations? See our story "Fatal Attraction: Birds and Wind Turbines."

Sometimes these questions can prompt us to examine what is truly most important to us. This brings me to the invasive pigs. There are people who are adamantly opposed to all hunting or any animal control. I can understand and respect their opinions. But many of those same people also consider themselves pro-environment. So is the thought of shooting a pig so distasteful that you are willing to sacrifice the native flora and fauna? What happens to the indigenous fox, deer, ground squirrel or California quail? Are you willing to give up California's live oaks, wildflowers and other native species that may be directly impacted by this invasive species? You can’t always have it both ways. Anyway…something to chew on.

Oh, and by the way… We'll get letters.

Watch the Hog Wild television story online.

36.1835 -120.983

Photo by: Melissa Batson

And how they put a snare in the plan for chimps and humans to live together.

In the Budongo Forests of Uganda, a large group of Chimpanzees, named by researchers The Sonso Group, attempt to thrive in their natural habitat, eating plants and small prey. At the same time, humans who live around the forest are also trying to survive, working at places like the local sugarcane plantation and living in straw and mud houses. For food, they set out into the forest with small snares and aim for duiker and or pig.

Most of these snares are made from wire. As chimpanzees walk through the forest, their hands or feet may become trapped in the snare. In two of the forests where chimpanzees are studied, researchers have observed up to 25 percent of chimpanzees are maimed due to snare injuries. More die.

This problem is typical all over the world. How do the chimps and people live together? How do elephants and people live together? Wolves and people? Mountain Lions and Bay Area people? Though solutions seem impossible at times, I am impressed by many of the solutions, one being that of the Budongo Snare Removal Project.

In January 2000, the Jane Goodall Institute in collaboration with the Budongo Forest Project initiated a snare removal program in the Budongo Forest Reserve. The objective is to reduce the number of snares set, reduce the number of animals caught in snares and traps, and increase the number of local people who obey wildlife laws and understand the need for protecting wildlife.

Teams of two men locate and remove snares. After the first year of operation, they found that the number of snares being set within the grid system of the research area dropped. The census teams found heavy poaching and illegal activities were being carried out in the southern end of the forest reserve, so the team near the research site extended their range.

A new education center reaches out to the local community and provides education around ecology, wildlife and the treasure that is the chimpanzees.

The Oakland Zoo adopted this project in 2001 and the support covers the salaries for four field assistants, two educators, two eco-guards, and allowances for transportation and bike repair, gum boots, rain gear, backpacks, and compasses.

Funds raised at an annual fall lecture and silent auction and on Primate Discovery Day go toward this project.This year’s Primate Day is September 27^th and the lecture, featuring Shirley McGreal, is on October 2^nd.

The Oakland Zoo also supports connection and awareness of this project by visiting the site in Uganda. Teens will be traveling there in July and adults will embark on the journey (including gorilla trecking) in October.

More spots are available on this once in a lifetime adventure. For details, email: amy@oaklandzoo.org.

37.7772 -122.166595

"One of my favorites is this one here," says my host, Senior Wildlife Forensic Specialist Jeff Rodzen, "we have a bird who choked to death on the head of a lizard." Hmm. A favorite? Maybe compared to the others lining the wall: jars filled with parasitic worms, a tule elk fetus, a see-through rabbit where you can see every bone.

Add in the bighorn sheep skull among the modern equipment, and the paws sticking up in the back of the evidence and it made for a surreal day of reporting.

Welcome to the autopsy and necropsy room at the California Fish and Game office in Rancho Cordova, about 12 miles east of Sacramento. This is the place where blood and hair and small fibers from wildlife crime scenes are DNA-matched for all the poaching cases in California.

This is a fascinating place, if a little macabre. And it was the starting point for a QUEST radio story that had many more story lines than I could possibly pursue in one feature.

• I learned about a canine program designed to track down poachers, and an offshoot of that program that actually sniffs out invasive species like Quagga mussels.
• I found out how dangerous the job of Game Warden actually is, and the reasons it’s so hard to recruit new officers.
• And I found out how complicated poaching can become, and how endemic it is in California.
• I discovered there’s a subculture of poaching.

Some poachers hit the country backroads late at night, right after the bars close, and Game Warden Todd Tognazzini said those are the easier ones to catch. But the ones who are good at it use sophisticated communications equipment, night-vision sights on their guns, and small, strong flashlights to stun wild pigs or deer into standing still. This is called "spotlighting." Some poachers will black out their brake lights, run on roads without headlights, and use other ingenious ways to keep a low profile while they illegally hunt wild animals.

Game warden is one of the most dangerous law enforcement jobs around– after all, you're going into a remote area, with no backup, to confront people who are carrying guns and knives. Would any urban police officer do that? There is a dearth of game wardens in California, partly due to decades of budget cuts. Last thing I found: The newest high-tech method of tracking down poachers is actually pretty low-tech. Dogs. A new canine program helps game wardens find illegal animal kills. Not surprisingly, poachers hide their contraband, and it's not easy for game wardens to find it. Lieutenant Kristie Wurster is stationed in Alpine County, near Placerville. She’s one of 18 wardens in the canine-training program, and she uses her dog Wrigley to sniff out illegal fishing and hunting. .

Wurster estimates the dog saves about 800 man-hours of work a year. "We are so small in numbers and we just tip the iceberg of how much poaching is going on," she says. "That’s why I’m so excited about the program, to have another set of eyes and ears – and nose – to be able to detect the issues."

Listen to the "Wildlife CSI" Radio report online, and check out our photo set on Flickr which includes: photos of a game warden at work tracking poachers in the foothills of southern Monterey County, as well as deer, boar, abalone and other illegally killed animals.

38.570226 -121.327390