When Robin Moore first saw the Bornean rainbow toad, he felt like he was meeting a celebrity. Local scientists had finally spotted the amphibian for the first time in 87 years. They had spent more than 10 months searching the lush rainforest with nothing but a black-and-white illustration to guide them. Now it was Moore’s turn to see one for himself.
“They told me I had a 50/50 chance of seeing it. It was nerve-racking,” he says. Moore is a conservation biologist at Global Wildlife Conservation (GWC), the organization that spearheaded the search for the toad. To everyone’s delight, they spotted a specimen in a tree. “To actually see it in the flesh is really incredible,” he says. “The red markings really popped out.” The toad is so colorful that scientists decided to change its name from the Sambas stream toad to the Bornean rainbow toad. “When you go in search of lost species, you never know the outcome,” says Moore.
When Robin Moore first saw the Bornean rainbow toad, he felt like he was meeting a celebrity. Local scientists had spent more than 10 months searching the rainforest for the toad. They had nothing but a black-and-white illustration to guide them. Finally, they had seen the amphibian for the first time in 87 years. Now it was Moore’s turn to see one for himself.
“They told me I had a 50/50 chance of seeing it. It was nerve-racking,” he says.
Moore is a conservation biologist at Global Wildlife Conservation (GWC). The organization led the search for the toad. To everyone’s delight, Moore’s group spotted a specimen in a tree. “To actually see it in the flesh is really incredible,” he says. “The red markings really popped out.”
In person, the toad is so colorful that scientists decided to change its name. Instead of the Sambas stream toad, it’s now the Bornean rainbow toad. “When you go in search of lost species, you never know the outcome,” says Moore.