A Glimmer of Hope: The Return of the Rare Numbat in Australia

In the dappled light of Australia’s eucalypt woodlands, a small creature, no bigger than a squirrel, busily goes about its day. With a finely pointed snout, a bushy, bottle-brush tail, and a cascade of striking white stripes across its reddish-brown coat, it is a living work of art. This is the numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus), a unique and critically endangered marsupial, and its story is one of dramatic decline, relentless dedication, and a fragile, flickering hope for the future. Once widespread across the vast southern expanse of the continent, this captivating animal was driven to the very precipice of extinction, its range contracting by a staggering 99%. Today, thanks to a multi-pronged, decades-long conservation battle, the numbat is making a tentative comeback, a testament to the resilience of nature and the unwavering commitment of the people fighting to save it.

This is not just the story of an animal, but a story of an entire ecosystem's struggle for balance. It is a narrative woven with threads of scientific innovation, on-the-ground grit, and the collaborative spirit of government agencies, private organizations, and passionate communities. From the world’s only captive breeding program to the creation of massive, predator-proof landscapes, the fight to save the numbat is a landmark chapter in Australian conservation history, offering hard-won lessons and a cautious, yet profound, sense of optimism.

The Enigmatic Termite-Eater: A Marsupial Like No Other

To understand the numbat's vulnerability and the challenges of its recovery, one must first appreciate its unique place in the animal kingdom. Unlike the vast majority of Australia's marsupials, which are nocturnal, the numbat is almost exclusively active during the day. This unusual diurnal lifestyle is dictated entirely by its highly specialized diet: termites. An adult numbat is a voracious and discerning predator, consuming up to 20,000 termites every single day.

Its scientific name, Myrmecobius fasciatus, translates to "banded ant-eater," though this is a slight misnomer. While ants are occasionally ingested by accident, termites are its sole source of sustenance. The numbat is not a brutish predator; it is a precision instrument. Lacking the strength to break into fortified termite mounds, it relies on a keen sense of smell and possibly hearing to detect the faint vibrations of termites moving through shallow, unfortified underground galleries. With its sharp front claws, it delicately scrapes away the topsoil to expose these insect highways. Then, its most remarkable adaptation comes into play: a long, slender, and incredibly sticky tongue, extending up to 11 centimeters, which darts into the galleries to lap up its prey. Its teeth have degenerated into small, blunt pegs, as it has no need to chew its food.

This dependency on termites dictates every aspect of the numbat’s life. Its daily activity is synchronized with that of the termites, which are themselves influenced by temperature. In the cooler winter months, a numbat may forage from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. In the heat of summer, it will be active in the cooler parts of the morning, retreat to a shelter during the midday peak, and emerge again in the late afternoon. It obtains all the water it needs from the termites it consumes, an adaptation to its historically arid and semi-arid environments.

Numbats are largely solitary and territorial creatures. A male's home range can be up to 50 hectares, overlapping with the territories of several females. This solitary nature is a direct result of their food source; termites are a diffuse and hard-won resource, not one to be shared. Their lives are intimately tied to the structure of their woodland habitat, specifically the presence of hollow logs and fallen timber. These provide crucial shelter from predators, refuge from the elements, and nesting sites for raising young. In a remarkable defensive behavior, a numbat will block the entrance of its hollow log or burrow with its unusually thick-skinned rump, creating a formidable barrier against predators.

Reproduction is a slow and precarious process. Mating occurs in the summer, between December and January. After a very short gestation period of just 14 days, the female gives birth to up to four tiny, rice-grain-sized young. Unique among marsupials, the female numbat has no pouch. Instead, the minuscule joeys crawl to her four teats, which are protected by a patch of crimped, golden hair and the swelling of her abdomen. They remain firmly attached and are carried by the mother for six to seven months until they become too large and heavy. At this point, in late July or August, she deposits them in a well-prepared burrow or log, returning at night to suckle them. The young begin to forage for themselves in September and become fully independent by November, ready to disperse and establish territories of their own. This ten-month investment by the mother to raise a single litter highlights how slowly populations can recover from any losses.

A Catastrophic Decline: Erased from the Landscape

The story of the numbat's decline is a tragic echo of the fate of many of Australia's mid-sized mammals. At the time of European settlement in the late 18th century, the numbat was found across a vast swathe of southern Australia, from the west coast of Western Australia, through South Australia and into north-western New South Wales and Victoria. They thrived in a variety of habitats, from eucalypt woodlands to arid spinifex grasslands.

The contraction of their range began in the mid-1800s, but the most devastating blow came with the deliberate introduction and spread of the European red fox (Vulpes vulpes) in the 19th century. Being a small, diurnal animal, the numbat was exquisitely vulnerable to this efficient new predator, against which it had no evolved defenses. The collapse was swift and brutal. The most rapid phase of extinction occurred in the arid zones during the 1940s and 1950s, coinciding directly with the establishment of the fox in those regions.

By the 1970s, the numbat had vanished from 99% of its former range. The species was presumed extinct in New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, and the Northern Territory. The entire global population was reduced to just two small, isolated remnant populations in the south-west of Western Australia: one in the Dryandra Woodland and the other in the Perup Nature Reserve. Even these strongholds were not entirely safe, with population numbers hitting a terrifying low of under 1,000 individuals by the late 1970s. Observers in the 1940s had already predicted its demise, even in its western stronghold.

The introduction of predators was compounded by sweeping habitat destruction. Widespread land clearing for agriculture and urban development fragmented and destroyed the eucalypt woodlands that provided the hollow logs and termite populations essential for the numbat's survival. Changes to traditional fire regimes, which had been practiced by Aboriginal people for millennia, also impacted the health and structure of these woodlands. The loss of the 'walpurti', as it is known to the Pitjantjatjara, Ngaanyatjarra, and other desert peoples, was not just a biological extinction but also a cultural one, silencing stories and severing a connection to country.

The Fightback Begins: A War on Two Fronts

As the numbat teetered on the brink, a dedicated coalition of scientists, conservationists, and government bodies began to mobilize. The 1980s marked the beginning of an intensive research and conservation program that would become a four-decade-long battle.

The Fox War and an Unexpected Enemy

The initial breakthrough came with the identification of the red fox as the primary driver of the decline. In 1982, a pioneering experimental fox-baiting program was initiated at Dryandra Woodland, led by research scientist Dr. Tony Friend. The results were nothing short of spectacular. With fox numbers suppressed, numbat sightings in the baited area increased by a factor of 40. The population grew rapidly, peaking in 1992. This success led to the rollout of broad-scale fox control, notably through the Western Shield program, which uses baits containing a biodegradable toxin called 1080. Because many native Western Australian plants naturally contain fluoroacetate (the compound from which 1080 is derived), local fauna like the numbat have a high degree of tolerance to it, while introduced predators do not.

However, the victory was short-lived. Just as conservationists began to celebrate, a new, more insidious threat emerged. After the 1992 peak, numbat numbers at Dryandra began to fall dramatically once again, despite ongoing fox control. Research revealed a grim ecological truth: the removal of the apex predator, the fox, had allowed the population of another, equally deadly introduced predator—the feral cat (Felis catus)—to proliferate. Cats, which are notoriously difficult to control with baits, had become the new primary predator. A 2013 study in Dryandra attributed a staggering 50% of numbat predation to feral cats. The war for the numbat’s survival had to be fought on a second, more complex front. This led to the development of new cat-specific baits, such as Eradicat, and a renewed focus on integrated predator management.

The Ark Strategy: Building Fenced Havens

While predator control in the wild was proving a constant, uphill battle, a parallel strategy was emerging: the creation of 'arks'. This approach involves constructing large, feral-predator-proof fenced exclosures to establish safe havens where threatened species can thrive without the pressure of cats and foxes.

The Australian Wildlife Conservancy (AWC), a private, non-profit organization, has been a global leader in this strategy. They have established several large sanctuaries that now play a critical role in the numbat's survival. Numbats were first reintroduced to AWC's Yookamurra Sanctuary in South Australia in 1993, followed by Scotia Sanctuary in New South Wales in 1999. More recently, they have been reintroduced to AWC's Mount Gibson Sanctuary in Western Australia (2016) and, in partnership with the NSW Government, to Mallee Cliffs National Park in New South Wales (2020).

These sanctuaries are monumental undertakings. The fence at Mallee Cliffs, for example, encloses a 9,570-hectare area—nearly 100 square kilometers—from which every single feral cat and fox has been eradicated. These predator-free zones are now home to a significant proportion of the global numbat population and have become vital breeding grounds, producing new generations of numbats that can be used to establish further populations. The success within these fences is palpable. Recent sightings in late 2025 of baby numbats at Mallee Cliffs and Scotia, including a playful quadruplet of juveniles, have sparked immense hope among conservationists. Michael Daddow, an AWC Land Management Officer, described the surreal experience of watching them: "They were just cruising around, falling asleep, and playing with each other. The bravest of the lot even ran up to me to check me out before scurrying back, it wasn't scared at all.”

The World's Only Numbat Nursery: The Perth Zoo Story

Integral to the success of these reintroductions is the world's only captive breeding program for numbats, managed by Perth Zoo. Established in 1987, the program was born out of necessity. With wild populations so low, a source of animals was needed to found new populations without further depleting the fragile remnant groups.

Breeding this highly specialized marsupial in captivity was an immense challenge. It took five years of intensive research into their reproductive biology and husbandry before the first successful breeding occurred in 1992. One of the greatest hurdles, according to zookeepers, is replicating their diet. The zoo must go to great lengths to trap and provide the 20,000 termites each numbat requires daily, sometimes supplementing this with a special "termite custard."

Since that first success, the program has been a cornerstone of numbat recovery. As of mid-2022, Perth Zoo had successfully bred and released over 283 numbats back into the wild, bolstering existing populations and founding new ones at sites like Scotia, Yookamurra, and Mount Gibson. Every individual joey is precious. Perth Zoo Science Numbat Keeper Renee Bauhofer spoke of the dedication required when two joeys, Sam and Mack, had to be hand-raised in 2024 after being mismothered. It involved round-the-clock feeds of a special marsupial milk. "Every individual numbat is really important to the future of the species, and has been a privilege for us to raise these little ones," she said. "It took a lot of time, effort and dedication so it's incredibly rewarding to see them doing so well as young adults."

The program is a collaborative effort, working hand-in-hand with the WA Department of Biodiversity, Conservation and Attractions (DBCA) and the Numbat Recovery Team. This partnership ensures that zoo-born animals are released into managed habitats, often fitted with radio collars to monitor their survival and integration into the wild.

A Patchwork of Hope: Reintroduction Across Australia

The return of the numbat is a story being written across a mosaic of sites, each with its own narrative of struggle and success.

Dryandra and Perup: These two remnant populations in Western Australia are the species' ancestral heartlands. They remain critically important as sources of wild-born animals for translocation and as reservoirs of genetic diversity. The population at Dryandra, after its initial recovery and subsequent crash, has seen numbers climb again since 2020 following intensified feral cat control, rising from a low of around 30 to an estimated 500. These unfenced populations, however, remain in a constant, delicate balance, their survival dependent on sustained predator management.
AWC Sanctuaries (Yookamurra, Scotia, Mt Gibson, Mallee Cliffs): These fenced havens represent the species' secure strongholds. Scotia Sanctuary in NSW now hosts a robust population, providing animals for other reintroduction projects. Mallee Cliffs in NSW and another fenced site on South Australia's Eyre Peninsula have seen exciting breeding success shortly after their initial translocations in 2020 and 2022 respectively. These sites demonstrate that, when freed from the pressure of introduced predators, numbats can and will thrive. However, even here, challenges remain. A severe drought in the Murray-Darling Basin saw populations at Yookamurra and Scotia decline sharply around 2019, though they have since shown promising signs of recovery with the return of wetter conditions.
Other Translocations: The history of numbat reintroduction is not without its failures. Early attempts to establish populations in more arid zones, such as Karroun Hill Nature Reserve, were hampered by high levels of predation from raptors and feral cats, highlighting the difficulty of re-establishing the species in its full historical range. Each translocation, whether successful or not, provides invaluable data that informs future conservation strategies.

New Frontiers and Future Threats: The Challenge of a Warming World

Even as conservationists celebrate breeding successes, a new and formidable threat is casting a long shadow over the numbat's future: climate change. Recent research, published in 2024, has revealed a worrying vulnerability. The numbat's physiology, adapted to conserve energy by absorbing warmth from the sun, now puts it at risk of overheating.

Dr. Christine Cooper, an environmental physiologist from Curtin University who has studied numbats extensively, used thermal imaging to find that on days with temperatures over 23°C, a numbat can overheat to a body temperature above 40°C within just ten minutes of being in direct sunlight. This forces them to retreat to the shade or their burrows, drastically reducing the time they can spend foraging for their low-calorie termite meals.

"If temperatures become too extreme, numbats might not have sufficient time to forage during daylight," says Dr. Cooper. Unlike other animals that might shift their activity to the cooler night, numbats cannot. Their termite prey retreats deeper underground at night, and their poor night vision would make them even more vulnerable to nocturnal predators. This means that even in the shade, the radiant heat from the ground and hot air could become intolerable. This research underscores the urgent need to factor in temperature and shade availability when planning future translocations and managing habitats.

In response, conservation science is continuously innovating. AWC is actively researching how numbats cope with extreme heat at sites like Mount Gibson, looking at how they use microclimates in hollow logs and burrows. They are also strategically establishing populations in different environments to hedge against future climate scenarios, hoping that genetic diversity will provide the raw material for adaptation.

Monitoring these small, cryptic animals also requires cutting-edge technology. While traditional methods like surveys for diggings and scats are still cost-effective, researchers are increasingly using remote sensor cameras. By analyzing the unique stripe patterns on a numbat's rump, scientists can now individually identify animals from camera trap images, allowing for more accurate population density estimates and tracking the health of populations over time.

A Symbol of Resilience and a Call to Action

The numbat, or 'noombat' in the Noongar language from which its common name is derived, is more than just a quirky marsupial. It is the faunal emblem of Western Australia, a symbol of the state's unique biodiversity. Its story has galvanized a powerful coalition of partners, from the scientists at DBCA and universities, to the dedicated keepers at Perth Zoo, the strategic land managers at AWC, and the passionate volunteers of community groups like Project Numbat.

Project Numbat, a volunteer-run organization, plays a vital role in this effort. Since 2006, they have raised funds for crucial equipment like radio-tracking collars, conducted on-ground dig surveys, and run education programs in schools and communities to raise awareness of the numbat's plight. Their work, driven by volunteers who spend weekends searching for the subtle signs of numbat diggings in reserves like Boyagin, embodies the grassroots passion that is essential for long-term conservation success.

The journey to secure a future for the numbat is far from over. The total population remains perilously small, estimated at fewer than 2,000 individuals. They remain at the mercy of sustained predator control, the integrity of their woodland habitats, and the looming uncertainties of a changing climate.

Yet, there is an undeniable glimmer of hope. Every joey born in Perth Zoo's nursery, every successful breeding event in a fenced sanctuary, and every increase in sighting rates at Dryandra is a victory. The return of the numbat to parts of New South Wales and South Australia, where it had been absent for over a century, is a powerful symbol of ecological restoration. It proves that with scientific rigor, unwavering commitment, and collaborative action, we can begin to mend what has been broken.

The story of the numbat is a reminder that extinction is not inevitable. It is a choice. By continuing to support the multi-faceted efforts to protect this striped marvel—through habitat protection, innovative science, and community engagement—we are choosing a future where the flicker of hope for the numbat can ignite into a steady, burning flame, ensuring its survival for generations to come.