Camera captures video showing one of Australia's rarest and strangest mammals

A hidden camera at Richard Underwood Nature Refuge in southwest Queensland has captured an unlikely scuffle: a juvenile northern hairy‑nosed wombat spun in circles while a short‑beaked echidna trundled past, seemingly unfazed. 

The playful yet tense scene, buried among 100 hours of footage, is more than viral bait, explains Andy Howe of the Australian Wildlife Conservancy.

Shy wombat steps into the light

Only around 400 northern hairy‑nosed wombats remain after decades of painstaking work to reverse their decline.

“It’s very gratifying to know that one of the world’s most critically endangered animals is doing well and breeding within the safety of the fenced area,” said Howe, recalling that numbers bottomed out at just 35 animals in the late 1990s.

The joey’s smooth coat and sturdy build suggest plentiful forage and low stress, two metrics ecologists rarely get to confirm in the field.

Because the species is nocturnal and wary, every clear daylight image helps researchers refine population models and track body condition.

Why a spiky passerby stayed calm

The echidna, one of only five egg‑laying mammals or monotremes, carried on as if nothing happened.

Echidnas deter attackers by erecting sharp spines and, when pressed, curling into a compact ball that exposes only hardened quills, a textbook defense noted by zoologists.

“It’s a nervous wombat and a happy echidna,” joked biologist Tim Flannery of the Australian Museum after watching the clip.

Digging for survival

The northern hairy‑nosed wombat is the largest burrowing marsupial, stretching to a yard in length and weighing up to 77 pounds, with some individuals living three decades in the wild.

Its barrel‑shaped body, forward‑facing pouch, and chisel‑like claws turn sandy soils into elaborate tunnel networks that buffer heat and predators.

Inside those networks the animals conserve water, ride out droughts, and minimize energy loss, emerging only at night to graze on native grasses.

Because females raise a single joey no more than every two years, each new youngster represents a sizeable share of future genetic diversity.

Betting on new homes

In 2009 conservationists launched an ambitious translocation, moving 15 wombats into the 320‑acre Richard Underwood refuge behind predator‑proof fencing.

Fifteen years on, at least the same number now live there as residents rather than transplants, and the latest juvenile shows that second‑generation wombats are thriving without human hand‑feeding.

Camera traps, set low along open runways, let ecologists confirm pouch emergence dates, monitor health, and detect any intruding wild dogs before disaster strikes.

Success at this site has revived plans for a third population farther west, reducing the risk that fire, disease, or floods could wipe out the species in a single blow.

Why wombats like burrows

Wombats earn the label ecosystem engineer because their 300‑foot‑long burrows moderate temperature and humidity for many smaller animals; “burrows are essential for regulating underground temperature and humidity,” noted Dave Harper of Queensland’s threatened species unit.

Researchers have since documented reptiles, small birds, and even introduced mammals using wombat tunnels as wildfire refuges and drought shelters.

By churning sub‑soil to the surface the animals also aerate compacted ground and accelerate nutrient cycling, boosting grass growth for grazers that share their range.

Conservationists argue that restoring wombats across their former territories could amplify these soil benefits while giving embattled species new hideouts during Australia’s increasingly severe heatwaves.

Conserving charisma‑free species

Northern hairy‑nosed wombats lack the global fame of koalas, yet their story shows how science, rural landholders, and careful media moments can rally support.

Every fresh glimpse of a healthy joey, especially one tossing dirt at an indifferent echidna, helps translate spreadsheets of recovery targets into an image ordinary people remember.

Long term, the program still hinges on predator control, genetic monitoring, and enough grassy habitat to feed expanding colonies, but small wins on trail cameras keep field teams motivated.

If additional safe sites come online before the next severe drought, researchers believe the population can pass the 500‑animal threshold that lowers extinction risk.

Wombats are quickly disappearing

Before Europeans arrived, northern hairy‑nosed wombats ranged from central Queensland down into New South Wales and northern Victoria.

But widespread land clearing for sheep and cattle grazing destroyed much of the open woodland they relied on for food and shelter.

They were also directly targeted. In 1884, over a thousand wombats were shot on a single property in the Riverina region.

Habitat loss, competition with livestock, and predation by dingoes and wild dogs pushed the species to the brink by the 1980s.

The images used for this news item have been taken from the Australian Wildlife Conservancy channel.

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