The sounds of the bush are rich with history. The sharp cry of a Wahlberg’s Eagle soaring overhead, the deep hoot of a Verreaux’s Eagle-Owl at night, and the bubbling call of a Burchell’s Coucal at dawn—each carries the name of a figure from the past. Often spoken without a second thought, these names belong to explorers, ornithologists, and naturalists who roamed Africa centuries ago, documenting its wildlife. Their legacies endure in the birds we see and hear every day, each one telling a story waiting to be discovered.
A Burchell’s Coucal beautifully perched out in the open in the golden afternoon light.
William John Burchell
One of the most recognizable birds is Burchell’s Starling, its iridescent blue plumage glistening in the sunlight. Another is Burchell’s Coucal, whose deep, bubbling call is synonymous with the first light of dawn in the bush. Both are named after William John Burchell, a British explorer and naturalist who travelled extensively across southern Africa in the early 1800s. His contributions to natural history extend beyond birds—his name is also attached to Burchell’s Zebra, a nod to his broader studies of the region’s wildlife.
A Burchell’s starlings glisten in the morning light in front of a herd of elephants. The fundamental definition of iridescence is that the colour changes depending on the direction in which you are looking at it.
A dazzle of Burchell’s zebra all lined up for a drink.
François Levaillant
François Levaillant, an 18th-century French explorer and ornithologist, lent his name to four different birds in Southern Africa, including the Levaillant’s Cuckoo. This striking black-and-white bird, with its long tail and bold crest, is known for its brood parasitism—laying its eggs in the nests of other birds.
Francois Levaillant, depicted in this painting at one of the camps he set up on his travels through South Africa.
Levaillant himself was an eccentric character, rejecting the Linnaean classification system in favour of more descriptive or indigenous names. One of his most famous namings was the Bateleur, a bird of prey he likened to a tightrope walker after observing it rocking its wings back and forth to maintain balance. The name, French for “tumbler” or “tightrope walker,” endures today. His meticulous illustrations and field notes were among the first to document Africa’s diverse birdlife, preserving their beauty for generations to come.
A Levaillant’s Cuckoo, with a heavily streaked breast not to be confused with the slightly smaller Jacobin’s Cuckoo that lacks the streaks and is named after the Dominican Monks, also known as Jacobins, as their black and white feathers resemble the garments of the Monks.
Johan August Wahlberg
Then there’s Wahlberg’s Eagle, a migratory raptor named after Swedish naturalist Johan August Wahlberg. This medium-sized eagle is often seen soaring over Londolozi in search of prey. Wahlberg met a tragic end in 1856 when he was trampled by a wounded elephant in what is now Maun, Botswana. Yet his name lives on in this resilient bird, which breeds in southern Africa before migrating north of the Equator for the winter.
The return of the migrant Wahlberg’s eagle is also an exciting time in the summer months as breeding pairs return to previous nesting sites to raise offspring once more.
Among our migrant species, Wahlberg’s Eagles are the first to arrive, with sightings often beginning in late August or early September. Like many eagles, they pair for life, returning to the same nests year after year—a testament to both their endurance and loyalty.
Jules and Edouard Verreaux
At Londolozi, the deep, resonant call of the Verreaux’s Eagle-Owl—Africa’s largest owl—often echoes through the night. With its striking pink eyelids and formidable presence, this nocturnal predator is named after Jules and Edouard Verreaux, French naturalists and collectors who traveled across Africa in the 19th century. While their collecting practices were controversial by today’s standards, their name remains tied to one of the most commanding owls of the region.
These birds are more than just striking sights or familiar calls; they are living tributes to the passion and dedication of the naturalists who first documented them. By learning their names and the histories behind them, we deepen our appreciation for both the birds themselves and the explorers who devoted their lives to understanding the natural world. Their work has allowed us to better observe, admire, and connect with the avian life around us. As we continue to witness their beauty at Londolozi, each sighting becomes more than just a fleeting moment—it is a link to the past, inviting us to share in the same sense of wonder that once drove these early pioneers.
Thanks, Kelsey, for this interesting article on some birds and their name givers, like Burchell.
Great photos!
Hi, the Levaillant’s Cuckoo and the Verreaux Eagle Owl are fantastic, I never saw the first one…. well, the European explorers made a lot of mistakes due to lack of knowledge of all.amimals behaviour they rather made a use of them, like dogs or birds of prey or cheetah and caracal to.hunt. What surprised me was the creation of a dog breed, the Rhodesian Ridgeback, to hunt lions… the strength and power of a feline physiology greatly surpass the canine’s one. I can imagine the horrific scene. The bad taste of some ancient “traditions ” went on undisturbed until today such as fox hunting, bull fighting, dolphins and whales hunting…. with a total ignorance about the environment and it’s balance. The destruction and extinction of all the main predators in the UK, ergo wolves, bear and lynxes brought to an uncontrollable growth of species that caused the extinction of fundamental vegetation. Great Britain is one of the most unbalanced and unnatural environment. Thank goodness explorers and researchers, like Darwin, Von Humboldt and Linneus that made their mistakes of course but surely weren’t trampled by an elephant or killed by lions, tigers, jaguars or crocodile, snakes, spiders or else… I remember with affection the Adamson couple, although more modern they managed to change the human mentality on wild beasts, that first were considered merely trophies…
Used to never understand people that watched birds…maybe it’s an age thing but I’m now fascinated! Ha! Love seeing all the varieties here I’ve never seen/heard of 🙂
Hi Kelsey, these birds are huge and also beautiful. I have seen the Levaillant’s cuckoo here on the reserve where I live. But it does not still long enough for me to take a photo of him. His cry is also something we hear a lot here. I have not seen or heard the verreaux’s eagle owl here yet. But we do have the Fish Eagle with his most gorgeous sound. Love the birds and try and listen to the different calls.
Kelsey – thank you for this interesting historical info – must say despite knowing more about naming of plant life, I had never stopped to consider who these intrepid explorers actually were and yet they named so many familiar species.
Kelsey, Thanks for a great education on these birds! The shot of the Levaillant’s Cuckoo with the R3 and 600mm lens is amazing! So crisp and clear! Hoping to try one of those from your rentals on our next visit.
This was great reading Kelsey and further educated me as to how some birds and animals were given their names. I’ve never seen the Levaillant cuckoo but it certainly is a beautiful bird. Perhaps next visit……