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GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

JUNGLE  FOLK  :  Indian  Natural  History 
Sketches.     Demy  8vo. 

BOMBAY  DUCKS  :  An  Account  of  some  of  the 
Everyday  Birds  and  Beasts  found  in  a 
Naturahst's  El  Dorado.  With  numerous  illus- 
trations reproduced  from  Photographs  by 
Captain  Fayrer,  LM.S.     Demy  8vo. 

BIRDS  OF  THE  PLAINS.  With  numerous 
Illustrations.     Demy  8vo. 

INDIAN  BIRDS  :  Being  a  Key  to  the  Common 
Birds  of  the  Plains  of  India.     Demy  8vo. 

(WITH  FRANK  FINN)  THE  MAKING  OF 
SPECIES.     Demy  8vo. 


:R 


GLIMPSES  OF 
INDIAN  BIRDS 

BY  DOUGLAS  DEWAR 


LONDON  :  JOHN  LANE  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 
NEW  YORK:  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 
TORONTO  :     BELL    &>    COCKBURN       MCMXIII 


X^-//^0/  0-    ^an.  ? 


WILLIAM    BRENDON    AND   SON,    LTD.    PRINTERS,    PLYMOUTH 


I    DEDICATE 
THIS    BOOK    TO 

THEODORE   ROOSEVELT 

A    HUNTER    OF    BIG    GAME   AND    A    NATURALIST 

WHO,    HAVING    BROUGHT    COMMON-SENSE   TO   BEAR 

ON    THE    PROBLEMS    OF    NATURAL    HISTORY 

DECLINES  TO    BE    DICTATED    TO    BY    THOSE    WHO 

HAVE    CONSTITUTED    THEMSELVES 

ZOOLOGICAL    AUTHORITIES 


PREFACE 

IN  the  brief  sketches  that  follow  I  find  occasion 
repeatedly  to  attack  the  prevalent  theories  of 
protective  colouration,  because  it  is  impossible 
for  the  naturahst  who  uses  his  eyes  to  accept 
these  theories. 

Most  of  these  hypotheses  were  advanced  by  field 
naturalists,  but  they  have  since  been  elaborated  by 
cabinet  zoologists  and  have  become  a  creed.  Now, 
Huxley  remarked  with  truth,  "  Science  commits  suicide 
when  it  adopts  a  creed."  With  equal  truth  he  asserted, 
**  *  Authorities,'  *  disciples,'  and  *  schools  '  are  the 
curse  of  science  and  do  more  to  interfere  with  the 
work  of  the  scientific  spirit  than  all  its  enemies." 

In  England  zoology  is  at  present  in  the  hands  of 
*  schools '  and  *  authorities '  of  the  kind  to  which 
Huxley  objected. 

The  result  is  that  where,  in  some  of  my  previous 
books,  I  have  exposed  the  shallowness  of  the  prevalent 
theories,  I  have  been  taken  to  task  by  certain  reviewers 
who  are  disciples  of  those  '  authorities.'  These 
gentlemen  term  my  criticisms  superficial,  but  they 
have  made  no  attempt  to  show  in  what  way  my 


X  PREFACE 

criticisms  are  superficial.  There  is  a  good  reason  for 
this.  It  is  that  these  journahsts  know  well  that  any 
attempts  to  rebut  my  statements  will  lead  to  a  con- 
troversy in  which  they  cannot  but  be  worsted  because 
the  facts  are  against  them. 

If  what  I  say  is  incorrect  my  reviewers  now  have  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  demonstrate  this. 

Lest  these  have  recourse  to  the  unfaihng  resort  of  the 
defeated  Darwinian  or  Wallaceian — the  argument  of 
ignorance,  lest  they  say  that  it  is  only  owing  to  their 
insufficient  knowledge  of  Indian  birds  that  they  cannot 
answer  me,  let  me  assert  that  what  I  say  of  Indian  birds 
is  equally  true  of  British  birds. 

I  assert  with  confidence  that  the  colouring  of  nine 
out  of  ten  birds  has  some  feature  which  the  theories 
attacked  by  me  cannot  account  for. 

"  Hypotheses,"  wrote  Huxley,  "  are  not  ends  but 
means.  .  .  .  The  most  useful  of  servants  to  the  man  of 
science,  they  are  the  worst  of  masters,  and  when  the 
establishment  of  the  hypotheses  comes  the  end,  and  fact 
is  attended  to  only  so  far  as  it  suits  the  '  Idee/  science 
has  no  longer  anything  to  do  with  the  business." 

The  hypotheses  which  I  decline  to  accept  have 
become  the  masters  of  many  zoologists  who  are  busily 
occupied  in  distorting  facts  which  do  not  coincide  with 
theory. 

It  is  not  very  long  since  an  English  scientific  paper 
published  an  article  entitled  "  What  have  ornitholo- 


PREFACE  xi 

gists  done  for  Darwinism  ?  "  So  long  as  zoologists 
test  the  work  of  the  naturalist  by  the  amount  of 
evidence  he  collects  for  Darwinism  or  any  other 
"  ism,"  it  is  hopeless  to  expect  zoological  science  to 
progress. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I. 

Birds  in  a  Grove          .         .         .         . 

3 

11. 

The  Magpie-Robin          .         .         .         . 

9 

III. 

The  Indian  Snake-Bird 

14 

IV. 

MiNIVETS 

19 

V. 

The    Power    of    Animals    to    Express 

Thought     

25 

VI. 

Pied  Woodpeckers        .        .         .         . 

31 

VII. 

A  Jhil  out  of  Season  .         .         .         . 

37 

VIII. 

Birds  in  White 

42 

IX. 

The  Pied  Crested  Cuckoo    . 

48 

X. 

Vultures 

55 

XI. 

The  Indian  Robin 

61 

XII. 

The  Shikra 

69 

XIII. 

A  Finch  of  Roseate  Hue     . 

.       74 

XIV. 

Birds  on  the  Lawn 

.       80 

XV. 

The  Grey  Hornbill 

.       86 

XVI. 

The  Flamingo       .... 

.       91 

XVII. 

Summer  Visitors  to  the  Punjab  Plain 

s      98 

KVIII. 

A  Bird  of  Many  Aliases 

.     106 

XIX. 

Paddy  Birds  at  Bedtime 

.     Ill 

XX. 

Merlins 

.     116 

xiv  CONTENTS 

XXI.  The  Common  Wryneck    . 

XXII.  Green  Pigeons 

XXIII.  BuLBULs'  Nests 

XXIV.  Nightingales  in  India     . 

XXV.  The  Wire-tailed  Swallow 

XXVI.  Winter    Visitors    to    the    Punjab 

Plains 

XXVII.  A  Kingfisher  and  a  Tern 

XXVIII.  The  Red  Turtle  Dove    . 

XXIX.  Birds  in  the  Millet  Fields    . 

XXX.  Hoopoes  at  the  Nesting  Season 

XXXI,  The  Largest  Bird  in  India     . 

XXXII.  The  Swallow-Plover 

XXXIII.  The  Birds  of  a  Madras  Garden 

XXXIV.  SUNBIRDS 

XXXV.  The  Bank  Myna      . 

XXXVI.  The  Jackdaw 

XXXVII.  Fighting  in  Nature 

XXXVIII.  Birds  and  Butterflies 

XXXIX.  Voices  of  the  Night 

Index 


PAGE 
121 

172 
178 

197 
204 

211 
218 
225 
231 

234 

238 
246 

257 


THESE  *' Glimpses"  originally  appeared  in 
one  or  other  of  the  following  periodicals: 
lite    Madras    Mail,    Pioneer,    Civil    and 
Military  Gazette,  Times  of  India,  Bird  Notes. 

The  author  takes  this  opportunity  of  thanking  the 
editors  of  the  above  papers  for  permission  to  re- 
produce the  sketches. 


GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 


GLIMPSES    OF 
INDIAN  BIRDS 


BIRDS    IN    A    GROVE 

THE  small  groves  that  usually  surround 
hamlets  in  Oudh  are  favourite  resorts  of 
birds. 
I  know  of  few  more  pleasant  ways  of 
passing  an  hour  than  under  the  trees  in  such  a  grove 
at  the  beginning  of  December,  when  the  weather  is 
perfect.  The  number  of  birds  that  show  themselves  is 
truly  astonishing. 

Recently  I  tarried  for  a  little  time  in  such  a  grove 
consisting  of  half  a  dozen  mango  trees,  a  tamarind 
and  a  pipal,  and  witnessed  there  a  veritable  avian 
pageant — a  pageant  accompanied  by  music. 

The  sunbirds  {Arachnechthra  asiatica)  were  the 
leading  minstrels.  There  may  have  been  a  dozen  of 
them  in  the  little  tope.  To  count  them  was  impossible, 
because  sunbirds  are  never  still  for  two  seconds 
together.  When  not  flitting  about  amid  the  foHage 
looking  for  insects  they  are  playing  hide-and-seek,  or 
pouring  out  their  canary-like  song.    At  this  season  of 


4  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

the  year  the  cocks  are  in  undress  plumage.  In  his 
full  splendour  the  male  is  glistening  purple ;  but 
in  August  he  loses  nearly  all  his  purple  gloss  and 
becomes  brownish  above  and  ashy  grey  below,  save 
for  a  purple  stripe  running  downwards  from  his  chin. 
The  hen  is  at  all  times  brown  above  and  yellow  below. 

The  red-whiskered  bulbuls  (Otocompsa  emeria)  were 
as  numerous  and  as  full  of  life  and  motion  as  the  sun- 
birds.  Their  tinkling  notes  mingled  pleasantly  with 
the  sharper  tones  of  the  other  choristers. 

It  is  superfluous  to  state  that  two  or  three  pairs  of 
doves  were  in  that  little  hagh,  and  that  one  or  other  of 
them  never  ceased  to  coo. 

Further,  it  goes  without  saying  that  there  were  red- 
starts in  that  tope.  The  Indian  redstart  (Ruticilla 
rufiventris)  is  one  of  the  commonest  birds  in  Oudh 
during  the  winter  months.  During  flight  it  looks  like 
a  little  ball  of  fire,  because  of  its  red  tail :  hence  its  old 
English  name,  fire-tail. 

At  intervals,  a  curious  tew  emanated  from  the 
fohage.  A  short  search  sufficed  to  reveal  the  author — 
the  black-headed  oriole  (Oriolus  melanocephalus) ,  a 
glorious  golden  bird  having  the  head  and  neck  black 
and  some  black  in  the  wing.  This  creature  seems  never 
to  descend  to  the  ground  ;  it  dwells  always  in  the 
greenwood  tree  and  its  life  is  one  long  search  for  fruit, 
caterpillars  and  other  creeping  things. 

The  flycatchers  were  a  pageant  in  themselves ; 
there  were  more  species  in  that  tiny  bagh  than  are  to 
be  found  in  the  whole  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

First  and  foremost  the  fan-tailed  flycatcher  {Rhipt- 


BIRDS    IN    A    GROVE  5 

dura  alhifyontata) — the  prima  donna  of  the  tope — 
presented  herself.  Like  a  fairy  in  a  pastoral  play, 
she  comes  into  view  from  some  leafy  bower,  announcing 
her  appearance  by  five  or  six  joyous  notes  that  mount 
and  descend  the  musical  scale.  Dainty  as  a  wagtail 
she  is  arrayed  in  black  and  white  like  some  motacillas. 
She  is  dancer  as  well  as  singer,  and  she  pirouettes  up 
and  down  a  horizontal  branch,  bowing  now  to  right 
and  now  to  left,  spreading  her  tail  into  a  fan  and 
suddenly  breaking  off  her  dance  to  make  a  flight  after 
an  insect. 

Even  more  beautiful  was  the  next  flycatcher 
to  introduce  itself — Tickell's  blue  flycatcher  (Cyornis 
tickelli).  The  upper  parts  of  this  exquisite  little 
creature  are  glistening  royal  blue  ;  the  throat  and 
breast  are  flaming  orange,  and  the  lower  parts  are 
white.  After  flitting  from  bough  to  bough  in  search 
of  quarry,  it  stood  still  and  uttered  its  lay,  which  con- 
sists of  a  chik,  chik,  followed  by  a  httle  trill,  not  unlike 
that  of  the  fan-tailed  flycatcher.  Having  delivered 
itself  of  its  melody,  it  vanished  into  the  green  canopy. 
Its  place  was  taken  almost  immediately  by  a  red- 
breasted  flycatcher  {Siphia  farva),  a  bird  very  like  the 
EngHsh  robin  in  appearance.    Ere  long  it  moved  away. 

Shortly  after  another  flycatcher  took  its  little  part 
in  the  pageant.  This  was  the  grey-headed  flycatcher 
(Culicicapa  ceylonensis) ,  "  a  tiny  brownie  bird,"  with 
the  head  grey  and  the  lower  parts  bright  yellow.  With 
the  exception  of  the  RMpidura,  all  these  flycatchers 
had  come  down  from  the  Himalayas. 

While    watching    their    graceful    movements,    my 


6  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

attention  was  attracted  by  a  curious  grating  sound 
that  emanated  from  the  branches  immediately  over 
my  head.  On  looking  up,  I  saw  a  crow-pheasant 
(Cenfropus  rufipennis)  running  up  a  branch  in  the 
inimitable  manner  of  his  kind.  His  bright  red  eye  was 
fixed  on  me,  and  he  had  evidently  made  up  his  cucuHne 
mind  that  "  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view  " 
of  a  human  being,  and  accordingly  lost  no  time  in 
making  his  exit. 

Scarcely  had  I  lost  sight  of  him  when  there  was  a 
considerable  commotion  in  the  pipal  tree  near  by. 
When  running  to  discover  the  cause  of  this  I  startled 
half  a  dozen  pipits  (Anthus  rufulus)  that,  hidden  by 
the  grass,  were  feeding  on  the  ground.  They,  as  is  their 
wont  when  frightened,  flew  into  the  foliage.  Pipits  are 
dull  brown  birds,  streaked  like  larks,  that  display  tail- 
wagging  propensities.  I  discovered  that  the  bird 
making  the  commotion  near  the  summit  of  the  pipal 
tree  was  a  vulture.  Very  large  and  out  of  place  did  it 
seem  struggling  among  the  slender  branches  with  wings 
spread-eagled.  It  was  tugging  away  vigorously  at  a 
small  branch  and  soon  succeeded  in  breaking  it  off. 
Having  accomplished  this,  it  scrambled  on  to  what 
looked  like  a  large  ball  of  dried  leaves  and  twigs  caught 
in  one  of  the  upper  branches.  This  was  a  nest  in  course 
of  construction,  which  the  vulture  was  lining  with 
pipal  branches.  Presently  the  huge  bird  flew  off,  and 
I  was  then  able  to  identify  it  as  the  white-backed 
vulture  {Pseudogyps  bengalensis) .  I  returned  to  the 
mango  tree  beneath  which  I  had  been  standing,  and 
in  so  doing  disturbed  a  bee-eater  (Merops  viridis)  that 


BIRDS    IN    A    GROVE  7 

was  perching  on  one  of  the  lower  branches.  Of  the 
presence  in  the  vicinity  of  these  charming  little  birds 
I  was  already  aware  from  their  soft  twitterings.  I  had 
not  actually  seen  them,  because  their  habit  is  to  perch 
on  the  outer  branches  of  trees,  whence  they  make  aerial 
salhes  after  insects. 

The  calls  of  the  blossom-headed  parakeets  (PalcB- 
ornis  cyanocephalus),  far  softer  and  mellower  than 
those  of  the  rose-ringed  species,  had  at  frequent 
intervals  mingled  with  the  notes  of  the  other  birds  ; 
and  at  this  moment  one  of  these  green  parrots  settled 
on  a  branch  quite  close  to  me.  Her  slate-coloured  head 
showed  her  to  be  a  hen  ;  in  this  species  the  head  of  the 
cock  is  coloured  like  a  ripe  plum. 

Sharp  sounds,  hke  those  made  by  insects,  issuing 
from  every  tree  revealed  the  presence  of  warblers. 
These  birds  were  so  small  and  so  active  that  I  am  not 
certain  to  what  species  they  belonged.  The  majority 
of  them  were,  I  believe,  willow  warblers  (Phylloscopus 
tristis) . 

At  intervals  the  to-wee  to-wee  of  the  tailor-bird 
(Orthotomus  sutorius)  had  rung  out  clear  and  distinct 
from  the  medley  of  sounds  that  filled  the  grove. 
Suddenly  two  tailor-birds  came  on  the  scene,  one 
chasing  the  other.  They  alighted  on  a  horizontal 
bough,  where  they  tarried  sufficiently  long  to  enable 
me  to  see  the  chestnut  crown  so  characteristic  of  the 
species. 

I  have  omitted  to  make  mention  of  the  sprightly 
magpie-robin  {Copsychus  saularis).  Of  this  species 
there  was  at  least  one  pair  in  that  little  grove,  and 


8  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

several  times  did  the  cock  descend  to  the  ground,  and 
hop  about,  with  tail  erect.  He  is  arrayed  in  black  and 
white,  and  a  smarter-looking  bird  does  not  exist. 
His  mate  also  put  in  an  appearance  ;  she  has  all  his 
sprightliness  and  is  equally  tastefully  attired  in  grey 
and  white. 

Having  spent  an  hour  in  the  grove,  I  had  to  return 
to  my  tent  to  work,  without  having  witnessed  all  the 
dramatis  personcB  of  the  daily  pageant.  As  I  was  leaving 
the  tope  a  hen  brown-backed  robin  (Thamnobia 
cambaiensis)  hopped  out  of  an  arhar  field  and  stood 
beneath  a  mango  tree,  carrying  her  tail  erect  so  as  to 
display  the  red  undertail  coverts. 

After  I  had  reached  my  tent,  fifty  yards  away,  I 
heard  the  kutur — kutur — kuturuk  of  the  green  barbet 
(Thereiceryx  zeyloniciis) ,  the  loud  tap,  tap,  tap  of  the 
golden-backed  woodpecker  (Brachypternus  aurantius), 
and  the  cheerful  notes  of  the  king  crow  (Dicrurus  afer). 


II 

THE    MAGPIE-ROBIN 

THE  magpie-robin  (Copsychus  saularis),  or 
dhayal,  as  the  Indians  call  him,  is  a  truly 
delightful  bird.  He  is  of  handsome  appear- 
ance, bold  disposition,  and  confiding  habits. 
He  is,  further,  a  singer  who  can  hold  his  own  in  any  com- 
pany when  at  his  best.  The  dhayal  is  a  typically  Indian 
bird,  being  found  in  all  parts  of  the  country  from  the 
Himalayas  to  Cape  Comorin.  He  is  common  in  Ceylon 
and  ascends  the  hills  of  India  to  altitudes  of  over  6000 
feet.  He  is,  I  beheve,  more  abundant  in  the  United 
Provinces  than  anywhere  else.  It  is  no  exaggeration 
to  assert  that  at  least  one  pair  of  magpie-robins  lives 
in  every  garden  in  Oudh  and  Agra.  I  do  not  count 
as  gardens  those  treeless  compounds  in  which  some 
bungalows  are  situate,  for  the  magpie-robin  is  a  bird 
that  loves  shade.  The  species,  although  by  no  means 
rare  in  South  India,  is  not  nearly  so  abundant  there 
as  in  the  northern  part  of  the  peninsula. 

The  dhayal  is  very  easily  identified.  The  cock  is  a 
black  and  white  bird  rather  larger  than  the  famihar 
English  robin.  His  head,  neck,  breast,  and  upper  parts 
are  black  with  a  white  bar  in  the  wing.  The  lower 
parts  are  white,  as  are  the  outer  tail  feathers. 

9 


lo  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

The  above  description  will  show  that  the  black  and 
white  markings  of  the  plumage  are  similar  to  those 
of  the  common  magpie  ;  hence  the  popular  name  of 
the  bird — magpie-robin.  If  the  distribution  of  the 
magpie-robin  happened  to  coincide  with  that  of  the 
magpie,  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  zoologists  of 
the  school  of  Wallace  would  cite  the  dhayal  as  an 
example  of  protective  mimicry.  They  would  tell  us 
that  this  robin  had  aped  the  dress  of  the  powerful 
magpie  in  order  to  dupe  the  crows  and  other  bullying 
birds  that  vex  the  lives  of  their  smaller  neighbours. 

As  the  magpie-robin  dwells  mostly  where  the  magpie 
is  not  found,  no  Wallaceian  has  attempted  to  explain 
why  its  colouring  is  so  like  that  of  the  magpie.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  magpie  scheme  of  colouring  seems 
to  be  a  popular  one  in  nature  (if  I  may  be  permitted 
to  use  such  an  expression).  It  appears  in  seven  species 
which  are  in  no  way  closely  related  one  to  another,  to 
wit,  a  goose,  a  crow,  a  tanager,  a  honey-eater,  a 
swallow-shrike,  a  robin,  and,  of  course,  the  common 
magpie. 

The  hen  magpie-robin  is  brownish  grey  where  her 
lord  and  master  is  black,  the  pattern  of  her  plumage  be- 
ing the  same  as  his. 

The  magpie-robin  does  not  carry  his  tail  as  most 
birds  do,  but  goes  about  with  it  pointed  to  the  sky. 
This  gives  the  bird  a  very  sprightly  appearance.  Its 
actions  fulfil  the  promise  of  its  looks.  It  is  never  still 
for  an  instant.  Now  it  descends  to  the  ground,  where 
it  hops  about  with  tail  erect,  picking  up  here  and  there 
tiny  insects  ;   now  it  flies  into  a  tree  or  bush,  where 


THE   MAGPIE-ROBIN  ii 

it  pursues  its  search  for  insects  or  pours  forth  its  joyous 
song.  Nor  does  it  confine  its  operations  to  trees, 
bushes,  and  dry  land.  I  have  seen  a  magpie-robin 
hunting  for  insects  on  a  tangled  mass  of  weeds  and 
stems  floating  on  water.  On  these  it  hopped  about 
just  as  it  does  on  terra  firma.  Each  httle  jump  caused 
considerable  commotion  in  the  water.  The  bird  did 
not  seem  to  mind  its  toes  getting  wet. 

The  dhayal  is  essentially  a  bird  of  gardens.  Like  the 
English  robin,  it  prefers  to  dwell  as  near  human 
habitations  as  possible.  In  my  opinion  it  is  one  of 
the  finest  song  birds  in  the  world.  Like  the  majority 
of  melodious  birds,  the  magpie-robin  is  not  in  song  all 
the  year  round.  During  the  early  winter  it  is  a  silent 
creature.  Towards  the  end  of  the  cold  weather  the  cock 
begins  to  find  his  voice,  and  at  that  time  his  efforts  are 
not  very  pleasing  to  the  human  ear.  But  each  succes- 
sive day's  effort  produces  better  results,  until,  by 
March,  the  bird  is  able  to  pour  forth  a  torrent  of  far- 
reaching  melody  which  is  inferior  to  that  of  no  Indian 
bird  save  his  cousin,  the  shama. 

Needless  to  say,  the  period  when  the  cock  dhayal  is  in 
song  corresponds  to  the  mating  time.  At  this  season 
the  cocks  are  very  pugnacious.  This  pugnacity  is 
simply  the  expression  of  the  fact  that  the  dhayal  is  at 
that  time  more  than  usually  overflowing  with  energy. 
This  energy  has  to  find  outlets.  One  of  these  is  through 
the  medium  of  vigorous  song.  Another  way  of  dis- 
sipating energy  is  by  performing  gymnastic  feats  in  the 
air.  As  a  rule  magpie-robins  rarely  perform  sustained 
flights.    They  are  content  with  flitting  from  bush  to 


12  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

bush,  or  making  little  excursions  to  the  ground  and 
back  again.  But  at  the  breeding  season  the  cocks  often 
fly  up  high  in  the  air  and  describe  a  series  of  wide 
circles.  They  will  spend  hours  in  this  performance  with 
only  a  few  seconds'  rest  at  long  intervals. 

The  eggs  are  nearly  always  placed  in  some  natural 
hole,  that  is  to  say,  one  not  excavated  by  the  dhayal 
itself.  The  hole  is  sometimes  in  a  tree,  but  nine  times 
out  of  ten  in  Northern  India  the  site  selected  is  a  hole 
in  some  building.  The  servants'  quarters  in  the  comer 
of  some  shady  garden  are  almost  invariably  chosen.  A 
very  favourite  spot  is  between  the  wooden  lintel  and 
the  mud  wall  of  a  kachcha  building  ;  such  buildings  are 
well  called  kachcha,  for  they  begin  to  crack  and  fall 
down  as  soon  as  they  are  built.  The  cracks  and 
crevices  that  appear  in  them  offer  just  what  magpie- 
robins  want  for  nesting  purposes.  The  eggs  are  not 
laid  on  the  bare  brick,  mud,  or  other  material  in  which 
the  cavity  exists.  The  hole  is  invariably  lined  with 
roots,  fibres,  grass,  feathers,  or  any  other  soft  material 
available.  My  experience  of  the  nests  of  this  species 
has  been  confined  chiefly  to  Northern  India,  and  I  do 
not  recollect  ever  having  found  a  nest  that  was  not  in 
the  wall  of  some  building  ;  but  observers  from  South 
India  say  that,  as  often  as  not,  the  dhayal  nests  in 
trees.  ^  Gates  states  that  in  Burma  the  magpie-robin 
almost  invariably  selects  a  large  hollow  bamboo,  and 


^  Such  is  the  contrariness  of  birds  in  g-eneral  and  of  magpie-robins 
in  particular,  that  since  this  book  went  to  press  I  have  found  in  the 
Pilibhit  and  Bareilly  districts  no  fewer  than  seven  dhayals  nests  in 
holes  in  trees  ! 


THE    MAGPIEtROBIN  13 

places  its  nest  about  two  feet  inside,  near  the  first 
joint ;  but  he  adds  that  the  bamboos  selected  are 
generally  to  be  found  lying  about  the  verandahs  and 
cucumber  framings  of  the  native  houses.  The  truth 
of  the  matter  would  seem  to  be  that  magpie-robins 
select  the  very  first  cavity  of  the  right  size  they  come 
across,  and,  as  they  affect  human  habitations,  the 
cavity  used  is  almost  invariably  near  some  man's 
dwelling.  In  Northern  India  the  construction  of  the 
dwellings  of  Indians  is  such  that  the  walls  afford  con- 
venient sites,  so  that  these  are  generally  utilised  ;  in 
other  parts  of  the  country,  where  the  walls  do  not 
present  so  many  holes,  other  cavities  in  trees,  etc.,  are 
selected. 

The  eggs  have  a  greenish-white  background  which 
is  usually  largely  obliterated  by  blotches  of  brownish 
red.  March,  April,  May,  and  June  are  the  months  in 
which  eggs  are  most  likely  to  be  found  ;  April  and  May 
for  preference. 


Ill 

THE    INDIAN    SNAKE-BIRD 

THE  Indian  darter,  or  snake-bird  (Plotus 
melanogaster)  is  best  described  by  what  I 
may  perhaps  call  the  synthetic  method. 
Take  a  large  cormorant  and  remove  the  head 
and  neck  ;  to  the  headless  cormorant,  sew  on  the  head 
and  neck  of  a  heron,  and  you  will  have  produced  a  very 
fair  imitation  of  the  Indian  snake-bird.  If  during  the 
operation  you  happen  to  have  dislocated  one  of  the 
lower  neck  vertebrae  of  the  heron,  so  much  the  better, 
for  the  slender  neck  of  the  darter  is  characterised  by  a 
bend  at  the  junction  of  the  eighth  and  ninth  vertebrae, 
which,  as  Mr.  Garrod  has  shown,  enables  the  bird,  by 
suddenly  straightening  the  neck,  to  transfix  the  fish  on 
which  it  has  designs.  As  a  catcher  of  fish  the  snake- 
bird  is  probably  without  peer.  This  is  not  surprising, 
since  it  possesses  the  swimming  and  diving  apparatus 
of  the  cormorant,  the  long  neck  and  dagger-like  beak 
of  the  heron,  and,  in  addition,  a  patent  thrusting 
apparatus  in  the  shape  of  the  aforesaid  kink  in  the  neck. 
The  Indian  darter  is  a  bird  with  which  all  who  go 
down  to  jhils  to  shoot  duck  must  be  familiar,  since  it  is 
a  full  yard  in  length  and  occurs  in  most  parts  of  India, 

14 


THE   INDIAN    SNAKE-BIRD  15 

Burma,  and  Ceylon.  Notwithstanding  its  large  size, 
it  is  apt  to  be  overlooked  when  in  the  water,  because  it 
almost  invariably  swims  with  the  body  submerged, 
showing  only  the  upper  neck  above  the  surface.  Every 
now  and  again  it  completely  disappears  from  view. 
After  remaining  submerged  for  several  seconds  the  head 
reappears  with  a  small  fish  projecting  from  the  bill. 
The  fish  is  forthwith  thrown  a  little  way  into  the  air, 
and  then  caught  and  swallowed.  This  habit  of  tossing 
food  into  the  air  preparatory  to  swallowing  it  occurs 
in  many  long-billed  species,  and  appears  to  be  the  most 
expeditious  method  of  getting  food  from  the  tip  of  an 
elongated  beak  to  the  other  extremity,  where  it  is 
seized  by  the  muscular  walls  of  the  gullet  and  passed 
onwards. 

The  snake-bird  is  said  sometimes  to  secure  its  quarry 
by  diving  from  a  perch  like  a  kingfisher.  I  have  not 
observed  the  bird  behave  thus,  and  the  method  does 
not  appear  to  be  generally  practised. 

Plotus  melanogaster  is  called  the  snake-bird  because 
of  its  long,  slender,  snake-like  neck,  which  looks  very 
like  the  anterior  portion  of  a  water-snake  when  the 
bird  swims,  as  it  often  does,  with  the  body  submerged. 
If  danger  threatens  the  bird  usually  sinks  in  the  water 
until  every  part  of  it  except  the  beak  disappears.  This 
certainly  is  a  method  of  hiding  superior  to  that  said 
to  be  adopted  by  the  ostrich. 

The  snake-bird  is  a  rapid  swimmer,  and  as  it 
frequently  remains  under  water  for  thirteen  or  fourteen 
seconds  at  a  time,  it  is  able  to  move  considerable 
distances  while  completely  submerged. 


i6  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

The  snake-bird  is  a  powerful  flier.  While  on  the  wing 
it  does  not  retract  its  neck  after  the  manner  of  the 
heron,  but  progresses  with  neck  extended.  The  neck 
being  so  slender  gives  the  bird  a  comic  appearance  and 
renders  it  easy  to  identify  during  flight.  When  resting 
from  its  piscatorial  labours  it  betakes  itself  to  the  edge 
of  the  jhil  or  to  an  islet  and  squats  there  to  dry  its 
plumage  in  the  approved  cormorant  fashion,  with  wings 
partially,  and  tail  fully,  expanded.  In  this  grotesque 
attitude  it  frequently  preens  itself,  and,  thanks  to  the 
length  of  its  neck  and  bill,  it  has  not  to  undergo  the 
contortions  that  characterise  most  birds  when  trying  to 
reach  with  the  tip  of  the  beak  their  least  accessible 
feathers. 

The  Indian  darter  does  not  appear  to  patronise  the 
open  sea.  Probably  it  objects  to  the  swell  and  finds 
its  quarry  easier  to  catch  in  comparatively  shallow 
water.  It  does  not  mind  salt  water,  for  it  may  be  found 
in  tidal  estuaries  and  creeks.  I  have  seen  it  on  the 
Cooum  at  Madras.  It  is,  however,  essentially  a  bird 
of  the  jhil.  Needless  to  state  that  it  is  no  songster — 
none  of  the  Phalacocoracidae  are  melodious — nor  is  it 
given  to  undue  loquacity,  but  it  is  capable,  when  the 
occasion  demands,  of  emitting  a  harsh  croak. 

So  far  as  my  experience  goes,  snake-birds  usually 
occur  singly  or  in  pairs,  but  according  to  Jerdon 
hundreds  of  the  birds  are  to  be  seen  on  some  jhils  in 
Bengal. 

At  the  nesting  season  it  is  more  likely  to  be  seen  in 
flocks  than  at  other  times,  for  numbers  breed  together, 
often  in  company  with  herons  and  cormorants.    Like 


THE    INDIAN    SNAKE-BIRD  17 

these  latter,  the  snake-bird  times  its  nesting  operations 
so  that  the  young  will  be  hatched  out  after  the  mon- 
soon has  brought  into  existence  numbers  of  amphibia 
and  Crustacea  on  which  to  feed  them.  Accordingly,  it 
nidificates  in  July,  August,  and  September  in  Northern 
India  and  Travancore,  which  are  served  by  the  south- 
west monsoon,  and  in  January  and  February  in  those 
parts  of  South  India  visited  by  the  north-east  mon- 
soon. 

The  nest  is  a  mere  platform  of  twigs,  usually  placed 
in  low  trees,  babools  for  preference,  and  growing  in 
situations  flooded  in  the  rains. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  place  near  the  city  of  Madras 
where  snake-birds  breed.  Mr.  T.  F.  Bourdillon,  writing 
of  Travancore,  says,  "  I  once  found  a  colony  of  these  birds 
nesting  above  the  Athirapuzha  in  the  Kodasheri  River 
in  September.  They  had  taken  possession  of  an  island 
in  midstream,  where  they  had  built  their  untidy  nests 
on  small  trees  about  twenty  feet  high,  and  there  were 
fresh  and  hard-set  eggs  in  them  in  all  stages  of  incuba- 
tion, while  half-fledged  birds  scrambled  about  the 
branches  or  flopped  into  the  water  at  our  approach. 
The  nests  were  about  one  foot  in  diameter  and  roughly 
built  of  twigs.  The  eggs  are  white  and  covered  with  a 
chalky  coat  and  measure  2  inches  by  ij.  Some  of 
the  eggs  are  rather  larger  at  one  end  than  the  other, 
while  others  are  truly  fusiform  with  pointed  ends.** 

The  snake-bird  is  sometimes  kept  as  a  pet  by  Indians. 

According  to  Mr.  J.  R.  Cripps  the  Buddeas,  a  race  of 

gipsies  who  travel  about  the  Eastern  Bengal  districts 

in  boats,  are  very  fond  of  keeping  these  birds,  almost 

c 


i8  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

every  boat  tenanted  by  these  gipsies  having  a  snake- 
bird  on  board. 

The  shoulder  feathers  of  the  Indian  darter  are  long 
and  narrow  like  the  hackles  of  a  cock.  Each  is  black 
with  a  conspicuous  silvery  shaft,  which  renders  it  a 
thing  of  unusual  beauty.  According  to  Jerdon  these 
feathers  constitute  the  badge  of  royalty  among  the 
Khasias,  and  used  to  be  the  badge  of  one  of  the  Bengal 
Regiments  of  Irregular  Cavalry. 


IV 

MINIVETS 

WERE  a  beauty  show  held  open  to  all  the 
birds  of  India,   the  minivets  would,   I 
think,  win  the  first  prize.     To  say  this 
is  to  bestow  high  praise,  for  India  teems 
with  beautiful  birds. 

All  the  colours  of  the  rainbow  appear  in  our  avian 
population.  Indeed,  the  Indian  pitta  {Pitta  brachyura) 
— the  bird  of  nine  colours — is  a  rainbow  in  himself,  dis- 
playing as  he  does  red,  yellow,  grey,  and  various  shades 
of  blue  and  green,  to  say  nothing  of  black  and  white. 

Most  of  our  beautiful  birds,  however,  pin  their 
affections  more  especially  to  one  colour.  The  parakeets, 
the  chloropses,  the  green  pigeons,  the  bee-eaters,  and 
the  barbets  wear  sufficient  green  to  satisfy  the  most 
patriotic  Irishman. 

Golden  yellow  is  affected  by  the  orioles  and  the 
ioras. 

The  kingfisher,  the  roller  and  the  purple  porphyrio 
are  as  blue  as  Putney  on  boat-race  day. 

Sunbirds,  pheasants,  and  peafowl  favour  us  with  a 
gorgeous  display  of  metallic  hues. 

The  rose-coloured  starling  and  the  flamingo  wear 
their  pink  as  proudly  as  a  Westminster  boy. 

19 


20  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

The  minivets  are  the  leaders  of  fashion  as  regards 
the  reds  and  yellows.  The  cocks  vie  with  the  hens 
as  to  who  shall  be  the  more  resplendent,  and,  in  so 
doing,  make  short  work  of  the  attempts  of  Wallace  and 
Darwin  to  explain  sexual  difference  in  plumage.  In 
most  species  of  minivets  the  cocks  are  arrayed  in 
bright  scarlet,  whence  the  name  Cardinal  -  bird, 
rich  crimson,  deep  rose  colour,  flaming  red,  or  soft 
orange,  while  their  respective  wives  are  studies  in  the 
various  shades  of  yellow.  But  the  beauty  of  the 
minivet  is  not  merely  that  of  colouring.  The  elegance 
of  its  slender,  well-proportioned  form  rivals  that  of  the 
wagtail. 

Minivets  are  little  birds  with  longish  tails  which  flit 
about  among  the  leaves  of  trees  in  flocks  of  half  a  dozen, 
conversing  in  low  but  exceedingly  melodious  tones. 

They  are  veritable  nomads.  They  never  remain  long 
in  one  place,  except,  of  course,  when  nesting.  Without 
apparently  ever  taking  a  prolonged  flight,  the  flocks 
of  minivets  must  traverse  very  considerable  tracts  of 
country.  They  never  leave  the  neighbourhood  of  trees. 
Their  habit  is  to  pass  methodically  from  tree  to  tree, 
tarrying  awhile  at  each,  seeking  for  insects  now  on  the 
topmost  branches,  where  the  dainty  forms  of  the  birds 
stand  out  sharp  and  clear  against  the  azure  sky,  now 
lost  to  view  amid  the  denser  foliage. 

Few  are  the  lurking  insects  that  escape  the  bright 
little  eye  of  the  minivet.  Even  those  resting  on  parts 
of  the  tree  where  a  bird  cannot  obtain  a  foothold  do 
not  escape,  for  the  minivet  is  able  to  seize  them  while 
hovering  in  the  air  on  vibrating  wings.    Occasionally, 


MINIVETS  21 

in  order  to  reach  a  tiny  victim  hidden  away  on  the 
under  surface  of  a  leaf,  the  minivet  will  hang  by  its 
feet,  like  a  titmouse,  from  the  slender  branch  that  bears 
the  leaf.  At  times  the  minivet  will  indulge  in  a  little 
zigzag  flight  among  the  green  branches,  and  it  is  on 
such  occasions  that  the  cock  utters  his  feeble  but 
pleasing  little  warble. 

Fifteen  species  of  minivet  adorn  India.  Unfortu- 
nately, most  of  them  are  of  comparatively  restricted 
range,  being  confined  to  the  Himalayas.  Two  species 
only,  I  believe,  are  common  in  South  India,  namely, 
the  small  minivet  {Pericrocotus  peregrinus)  and  the 
orange  minivet  (P.  flammeus).  The  former  is  the  only 
one  likely  to  be  seen  in  Madras  city.  If  we  would  see 
the  orange  species  we  must  go  to  the  Nilgiris  or  the 
Western  Ghauts. 

Both  sexes  of  Pericrocotus  peregrinus  are  handsome 
without  being  showy.  They  are  about  the  size  of 
sparrows,  but  have  a  much  longer  tail.  The  head,  nape, 
and  upper  part  of  the  back  of  the  cock  are  of  a  rich 
slaty-grey  tint,  which  deepens  into  black  on  the  sides 
of  the  head,  and  on  the  throat,  wings,  and  tail.  There 
is  an  orange  bar  in  the  wing,  and  the  tail  feathers  are 
tipped  with  that  colour.  The  breast  and  lower  portion 
of  the  back  are  of  the  richest  scarlet.  The  female  is 
less  showily  attired  than  the  cock  ;  she  lacks  his  scarlet 
trimmings  and  wears  yellow  in  place  of  his  patches  of 
orange. 

The  orange  minivet  is  a  still  more  beautiful  bird. 
The  head  and  the  back  of  the  cock  are  black.  His  wings 
are  black  and  flame-coloured  red,  the  red  being  so 


22  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

arranged  as  to  form  a  band  running  along,  not  across, 
the  wing  during  flight.  This  longitudinal  red  or  yellow 
wing-band  characterises  most  species  of  minivet.  His 
tail  feathers  are  all  red,  save  the  two  median  ones, 
which  are  black.  During  flight  the  brilliant  red  seems 
almost  to  obliterate  the  black,  so  that  a  number  of 
cocks,  as  they  fly  from  one  tree  to  another,  look  like 
sparks  driven  before  the  wind.  The  hen  is  marked  in 
the  same  way  as  the  cock,  but  in  her  the  flaming  red 
colour  is  replaced  by  bright  yellow.  In  my  opinion, 
"  orange  "  is  not  a  very  suitable  adjective  to  apply  to 
this  species.  A  literal  translation  of  the  Latin  name — 
the  flame-coloured  minivet — would  be  more  appro- 
priate. 

A  minivet 's  nest  is  a  work  of  art.  As  all  the  species  con- 
struct precisely  the  same  kind  of  nursery,  what  is  true 
of  any  one  species  applies  equally  to  all  the  others.  The 
nest  is  a  neat  little  cup,  about  three  inches  in  diameter, 
composed  of  twigs  and  grasses,  and  covered  outside 
with  moss  and  cobwebs,  so  that  in  colour  and  general 
appearance  the  exterior  is  exactly  like  the  bark  of  a 
tree.  It  is  usually  placed  on  a  bough  ;  if  this  happens 
to  be  a  thick  one,  the  nest  is  totally  invisible  to  any 
person  looking  up  into  the  tree.  If  the  branch  happens 
to  be  a  thin  one,  the  nursery,  seen  from  below,  looks 
exactly  like  a  knot  or  swelling  in  the  branch.  Thus, 
unless  one  actually  sees  the  minivet  sitting  on  the  nest, 
or  climbs  the  tree,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  locate  the 
little  nursery.  It  is  easy  enough  to  discover  that  a  pair 
have  a  nest,  for  the  parent  birds  make  a  great  noise 
when  a  human  being  comes  anywhere  near.     If  they 


MINIVETS  23 

happen  to  be  carrying  food  in  the  beak  for  the  young 
birds,  they  at  once  drop  it,  set  up  their  cry  of  distress 
and  try  to  entice  the  stranger  away  by  flying  a  httle 
distance  off.  If  this  ruse^  be  not  successful,  the  hen 
minivet  will  act  as  if  her  wing  were  broken  and  flap 
along  away  from  the  nest. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  although  minivets  build 
open  nests  and  the  sexes  differ  so  considerably  in 
appearance,  both  the  cock  and  the  hen  take  part  in 
incubation. 

Some  years  ago,  when  writing  of  the  small  minivet, 
I  quoted  Mr.  William  Jesse  as  describing  a  very  curious 
phenomenon  in  connection  with  the  nesting  of  this 
species,  namely  that  in  his  experience  almost  invariably 
two  hens  and  one  cock  take  part  in  nest  building  and 
incubation.  "  What  is  the  exact  duty  of  this  second 
wife,"  writes  Jesse,  "  I  cannot  make  out.  Possibly  she 
may  be  a  drudge.  That  she  exists  I  have  satisfied 
myself  time  after  time,  and  so  convinced  are  the 
Martiniere  boys  of  the  fact  that  they — no  mean 
observers  by  the  way — rarely  trouble  to  look  for  a  nest 
if  only  one  female  is  present.  Unfortunately,  I  have 
never  yet  found  out  what  happens  when  there  are 
young.  Whether  both  females  take  part  in  incubation 
and  in  rearing  the  young  I  do  not  know.  I  do  not  think 
that  both  lay  eggs,  as  I  have  never  found  more  than 
three."  From  the  time  when  I  first  read  the  above 
passage  I  have  paid  particular  attention  to  minivets, 

^  I  use  the  word  "  ruse"  for  want  of  a  better  term.  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  bird  intends  to  deceive  the  intruder.  I  am  disposed 
to  think  that  this  feigning-  of  injury  is  a  purely  instinctive  act.  The 
phenomenon  is  discussed  on  p.  207  infra. 


24  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

with  the  object  of  trying  to  account  for  the  alleged 
phenomenon,  and  the  result  of  my  efforts  is  that  I 
have  never  seen  more  than  one  cock  and  one  hen  at  a 
nest,  whether  it  be  under  construction  or  whether  it 
contain  eggs  or  young.  Moreover,  I  have  not  come 
across  any  naturalist  other  than  Mr.  Jesse  who  has 
seen  more  than  two  birds  at  the  nest.  I  am  therefore 
driven  to  the  conclusion  that  minivets  are  monogamous 
birds  and  that  the  observation  recorded  by  Mr.  Jesse 
is  faulty,  that  the  presence  of  the  second  female  was 
due  to  the  chance  visit  of  an  outsider.  Possibly,  since 
there  seem  to  be  more  hen  minivets  than  cocks,  there  is 
considerable  competition  among  the  hens  for  cocks, 
and  it  may  happen  that  the  hen  who  has  set  her  cap  at 
a  cock  in  vain  may  stay  on  in  the  vicinity  for  some  time 
after  her  rejection. 


THE  POWER  OF  ANIMALS  TO  EXPRESS 
THOUGHT 

THE  thoughts  of  birds  and  beasts  are  prob- 
ably few  and  simple.  Yet  it  is  unhkely  that 
they  are  able  to  communicate  all  their 
thoughts  to  one  another,  because  the  lan- 
guage they  possess  consists  of  a  few  monosyllables,  by 
which  they  can  express  only  elementary  feelings  such 
as  pain,  anger,  fear,  hunger,  and  the  presence  of  food. 
Some  animals  possess  a  much  larger  vocabulary  than 
others.  Dr.  Garner,  who  went  to  Africa  to  study  the 
language  of  his  Simian  brothers,  found  that  the  aver- 
age monkey  was  able  to  emit  only  about  seven  cries, 
but  the  vocabulary  of  the  highly  intelligent  chimpanzee 
comprised  twenty-two  separate  calls. 

According  to  Mr.  Edmund  Selous,  the  rook  is  really 
in  process  of  evolving  a  language.  He  records  no  fewer 
than  thirty-three  distinct  sounds  he  heard  rooks  utter, 
and  states  that  this  is  but  a  small  page  out  of  their 
vocabulary.  Nevertheless,  he  is  compelled  to  admit 
that  only  in  few  cases  was  he  able  to  connect  a  note 
with  any  particular  state  of  mind. 

The  articulate  language  of  animals  is  a  language  of 
monosyllables,  a  language  composed  almost  entirely 

25 


26  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

of  interjections.  Such  a  language,  while  very  expres- 
sive as  far  as  it  goes,  does  not  go  very  far.  And  the 
question  naturally  arises,  does  it  go  sufficiently  far  to 
meet  the  needs  of  the  various  species,  or  have  they 
some  means  of  communicating  with  one  another  other 
than  by  sounds  ?  It  is  very  tempting  to  believe  that 
they  have,  that  they  are  able  to  transmit  thought  to 
one  another  in  some  way.  It  is  only  on  the  assump- 
tion of  brain  waves  that  one  can  explain  the  soldier- 
like evolutions  which  flocks  of  birds  sometimes  per- 
form in  the  air. 

I  have  often  wondered  how  those  species  of  birds, 
of  which  both  the  cock  and  hen  take  part  in  the  nest- 
building  operations,  select  the  site.  The  matter  is,  of 
course,  simple  when  only  the  one  sex  constructs  the 
nest.  But  how  is  the  site  selected  when  both  sexes 
build  ?  It  is  tempting  to  believe  that  they  discuss  the 
matter,  that  the  hen  says  to  the  cock,  "  Now,  James, 
my  dear,  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  build  a  nest  without 
delay  :  come,  let  us  select  a  secluded  spot  wherein  to 
build  "  ;  and  to  picture  the  little  birds  hunting  about 
together  and  criticising  the  sites  each  selects.  Never- 
theless, I  think  it  most  unlikely  that  any  such  discus- 
sion takes  place.  Nest  building  is  largely  instinctive. 
In  the  case  of  the  first  nest  it  is  improbable  that  the 
little  builders  quite  know  what  they  are  doing,  and  I 
do  not  see  how,  before  the  nest  is  begun,  they  can  have 
any  idea  of  what  it  will  look  like  when  it  is  finished. 

It  is  possible  that  birds  agree  as  to  the  site  without 
any  discussion  or  without  any  communication.  Let 
us  suppose  that  a  pair  of  bulbuls  have  mated.     Sud- 


POWER   TO    EXPRESS   THOUGHT         27 

denly  one  of  them  is  overmastered  by  the  nest-building 
instinct  which  has  hitherto  lain  dormant.  This  par- 
ticular bird  is  impelled  by  some  irresistible  force  to 
seek  out  a  site  and  then  forthwith  to  begin  to  build 
the  nest.  The  nest-building  instinct  of  its  mate,  which 
is  dormant,  is  at  once  awakened  by  the  sight  of  its 
spouse  collecting  material.  When  this  happens  the 
second  bird  begins  collecting,  and  is  content  to  work 
at  the  structure  already  commenced  by  its  mate. 
Assuming  the  correctness  of  the  suggestion  that  the 
nest-building  instinct  does  not,  as  a  rule,  become 
awakened  simultaneously  in  a  pair  of  birds,  what  will 
happen  in  the  exceptional  cases  when  the  instinct  does 
awaken  simultaneously  ?  When  this  happens,  it  is  my 
belief  that  each  sex  commences  to  build  a  separate 
nest.  When  one  of  the  pair  discovers  what  its  mate 
is  doing,  it,  of  course,  gets  angry  and  scolds  it.  The 
other  returns  the  compliment.  Probably  the  next  step 
is  that  each  examines  the  handiwork  of  the  other  and 
thinks  very  little  of  it.  Possibly  at  first  each  refuses 
to  yield  to  the  other,  or  the  one  whose  nest  is  the 
least  advanced  leaves  this  in  favour  of  the  other,  or — 
a  third  alternative — the  stronger  bird  may  attack  the 
weaker  and  compel  it  to  desert  its  nest. 

This,  of  course,  is  pure  conjecture.  But  it  is  in 
accordance  with  the  fact  that  numbers  of  nests  are 
commenced  which  are  never  completed,  and  which, 
indeed,  never  progress  very  far.  There  are  at  present 
in  my  verandah  two  nests  belonging  to  bulbuls  which 
have  been  left  after  about  three  hours'  work  was  put 
into  them.     Several  explanations  of  this  phenomenon 


28  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

are  possible.  Each  bird  may  have  commenced  a  sepa- 
rate nest,  and  so  one  was  deserted  ;  or  the  site  in  ques- 
tion may  have  been  found  to  have  some  fatal  defect, 
consequently  the  nest  has  been  given  up ;  or  the  birds 
have  been  scared  away  or  killed.  The  last  alternative 
is  the  least  likely,  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
the  first  explanation  is  the  true  one. 

I  recently  read  in  Country  Life  an  exceedingly  in- 
teresting account  of  the  nest-building  operations  of  a 
pair  of  wagtails.  The  account  is  brief  and  has  so  im- 
portant a  bearing  on  the  subject  we  are  discussing  that 
I  take  the  liberty  to  quote  at  length  : — 

"  From  the  cover  of  a  riverside  cottage,"  writes  Mr. 
Alfred  Taylor  of  the  grey  wagtail  in  England,  "  I  saw 
two  birds  repeatedly  fly  to  a  rocky  ledge  both  with 
nest-building  material  in  their  beaks.  It  was  soon 
evident  that  the  male  wagtail  had  selected  one  nest 
and  the  female  another  place  a  couple  of  yards  away. 
The  former  for  some  time  took  no  notice  of  the  doings 
of  his  mate,  and  they  both  continued  to  gather  ma- 
terials into  their  selected  places.  Suddenly  he  flew  to 
her  position  and  commenced  removing  her  material  to 
the  place  where  he  thought  the  nest  ought  to  be. 
Trouble  seemed  to  be  brewing  in  the  family,  especially 
when  she  still  persisted  in  carrying  dead  grass  to  her 
site.  In  the  end  the  cock  bird  lost  his  temper,  flew  to 
her  ledge,  and  viciously  attacked  her,  knocking  off 
the  ledge  all  evidence  of  her  efforts  at  building.  She 
flew  away,  and  for  a  couple  of  hours  remained  perched 
in  a  tree  and  sulked,  evidently  much  upset  at  her 
chastisement,  not  taking  the  slightest  notice  of  over- 


POWER   TO    EXPRESS   THOUGHT        29 

tures  of  peace  from  her  mate.  As  the  deadlock  seemed 
hkely  to  continue  I  departed. 

"  Two  days  later  I  was  round  again,  eager  to  see 
how  the  difference  had  been  settled,  if  at  all.  To  my 
great  surprise,  I  must  confess,  the  male  bird  had  given 
way  to  the  female,  and  the  nearly  completed  nest  was 
on  her  chosen  site.  A  close  examination  of  the  two 
places  showed  that  the  judgment  of  the  male  had  been 
at  fault.  Where  he  had  erred  was  in  not  detecting 
the  presence  of  mice  ;  it  was  quite  impossible  for  these 
destructive  little  animals  to  reach  the  spot  selected  by 
the  hen." 

Here,  then,  is  a  case  of  the  cock  having  selected  one 
site  and  the  hen  another.  Had  they  gone  about 
choosing  a  site  in  company  and  disagreed  upon  the 
place,  it  is  hardly  likely  that  the  cock  would  for  some 
time  have  taken  no  notice  of  what  the  hen  was  doing  ; 
he  would  surely  have  set  his  foot  down  at  once.  The 
fact  that  at  first  he  took  no  notice  seems  to  show  that 
at  the  outburst  of  what  I  may  perhaps  call  the  fury 
of  nest-building  the  cock  had  eyes  for  nothing  but  his 
work.  Again,  when  the  cock  did  assert  his  authority, 
he  apparently  did  not  argue  with  the  hen.  He  simply 
knocked  her  and  her  handiwork  off  the  ledge — a  rude 
but  forcible,  if  inarticulate,  method  of  expressing  his 
feelings. 

It  may  be  asked,  how  was  it  that  the  birds  agreed 
to  the  change  of  site  if  they  were  not  able  to  com- 
municate with  one  another  ?  Here,  again,  we  must 
wander  into  the  field  of  conjecture.  It  must  suffice 
that  it  is  possible  to  explain  the  change  of  tactics  of 


30  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

the  cock  without  assuming  any  communication  be- 
tween him  and  his  mate.  Let  us  suppose  that  while 
she  was  sulking,  and  he  was  working,  a  mouse  appeared 
on  the  scene.  This  would  alarm  him,  and  possibly  the 
instinct  of  flying  from  enemies,  that  the  appearance 
of  the  mouse  called  into  play,  would  cause  him  to 
desert  his  nest,  and  perhaps  he  too  began  to  sulk. 
Then  the  hen,  once  again  overcome  by  the  nest- 
building  instinct,  recommenced  her  work,  and  when 
the  cock  followed  suit  he  left  his  useless  site  and 
worked  at  hers. 

Investigation  into  the  extent  to  which  birds  and 
beasts  can  communicate  with  one  another  is  as  diffi- 
cult as  it  is  fascinating.  It  is  one  of  those  subjects  of 
which  probably  but  little  can  be  learned  by  systematic 
experiment.  The  casual  observer  is  as  likely  to  throw 
light  upon  it  as  the  man  who  makes  a  special  study 
of  it.  A  chance  incident,  such  as  that  observed  by 
Mr.  Taylor,  throws  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  subject. 
It  is  not  until  we  have  a  large  number  of  such  observa- 
tions on  record  that  we  shall  be  able  to  acquire  some 
definite  knowledge  of  the  extent  to  which  birds  and 
beasts  can,  and  do,  communicate  with  one  another. 


VI 

PIED  WOODPECKERS 

NO  fewer  than  fifty-six  species  of  woodpecker 
occur  in  India,  and  of  these  thirteen  wear 
a  pied  hvery.  The  black-and-white  wood- 
peckers are  all  small  birds.  Most  of  them 
are  of  very  limited  distribution,  several  being  con- 
lined  to  the  Himalayas  and  the  connected  hills.  One 
species  is  peculiar  to  the  Andamans.  One  pied  wood- 
pecker, however,  ranges  from  Cochin  China,  through 
India,  to  Ceylon,  but  its  distribution,  although  wide, 
is  capricious.  It  is  abundant  in  all  parts  of  North- 
West  India,  but  is  said  not  to  occur  in  Eastern  Bengal 
and  Assam.  I  do  not  remember  having  seen  it  in 
Madras,  yet  it  is  the  common  woodpecker  of  Bombay. 
The  bird  is  easily  identified.  A  pied  woodpecker  seen 
in  South  India  can  belong  to  no  species  other  than 
that  which  is  known  as  Liopicus  mahrattensis  to  men 
of  science.  The  English  name  of  this  species  is  the 
yellow-fronted  pied  woodpecker.  It  is  clothed  in  black- 
and-white  raiment  set  off  by  a  yellow  forehead,  and, 
in  the  case  of  the  cock,  a  short  red  crest.  There  is 
also  a  patch  of  red  on  the  abdomen,  but  this  is  not 
likely  to  be  seen  in  the  living  bird,  which  presents  only 
its  back  to  the  observer  as  it  seeks  its  insect  quarry 

31 


32  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

on  the  trunks  and  boughs  of  trees.  In  the  lower 
plumage  the  white  predominates  ;  the  lower  back  is 
white,  as  are  the  sides  of  the  head  and  neck.  The 
shoulders,  upper  back,  wings,  and  tail  are  black 
speckled  with  white. 

Its  habits  are  those  of  the  woodpecker  family.  It 
moves  about  in  a  jerky  manner,  like  a  mechanical  toy. 
Its  method  is  to  start  low  down  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree 
and  work  upwards,  searching  for  insects.  Unlike  the 
nut-hatch,  the  woodpecker  seems  to  object  to  work- 
ing head  downwards,  so  that,  when  it  reaches  the  top 
of  the  tree,  it  flies  off  to  another.  Its  movements  in 
the  air  are  as  jerky  as  those  on  the  tree-trunk. 

While  other  birds  are  hunting  for  insects  that  fly  in 
the  air,  or  creep  on  the  ground,  or  lurk  under  the 
leaves  of  trees,  the  woodpecker  has  designs  on  those 
that  burrow  into  tree-trunks  or  hide  in  the  crevices 
of  the  bark.  These  the  woodpecker  evicts  by  means 
of  its  bill  and  tongue.  The  former  is  stout  and  square 
at  the  end,  which  presents  a  chisel-like  edge.  The 
bird  is  thereby  enabled  to  cut  holes  in  the  hardest 
wood.  Occasionally  it  literally  excavates  its  quarry, 
but,  as  a  rule,  it  is  not  obliged  to  resort  to  such  drastic 
measures.  A  series  of  vigorous  taps  on  the  bark  under 
which  insects  are  lurking  usually  frightens  them  to 
such  an  extent  that  they  bolt  from  their  hiding-places 
as  hastily  as  men  leave  their  habitations  during  an 
earthquake.  When  the  insects  expose  themselves  the 
woodpecker's  tongue  comes  into  operation.  This  organ 
is  a  fly-paper  of  the  most  approved  "  catch- 'em-ahve-o" 
type.    It  is  covered  with  a  secretion  as  sticky  as  bird- 


PIED   WOODPECKERS  33 

lime.  The  insects  it  touches  adhere  to  it,  one  and  all 
are  drawn  into  the  woodpecker's  mouth,  and  forthwith 
gathered  unto  their  fathers  ! 

The  nest  is  of  the  usual  woodpecker  type,  that  is  to 
say,  a  cavity  in  the  trunk  or  a  thick  branch  of  a  tree, 
partially,  at  any  rate,  excavated  by  the  bird.  Although 
the  chisel-like  bill  of  the  woodpecker  can  cut  the 
hardest  wood,  the  bird  usually  selects  for  the  site  of 
its  nest  a  part  of  the  tree  where  the  internal  wood  is 
rotten.  This,  of  course,  means  less  work  for  the  bird. 
The  only  hard  labour  it  has  then  to  perform  is  to  cut 
through  the  sound  external  wood  a  neat,  round  pas- 
sage leading  to  the  decayed  core.  When  once  this  is 
reached,  little  further  effort  is  required. 

Last  year  I  spent  a  few  days  at  Easter  in  the  Hima- 
layas, and  there  had  leisure  to  watch  a  pair  of  pied 
woodpeckers  at  work  on  their  nest.  These  birds  were 
brown-fronted  pied  woodpeckers — Dendrocopus  auri- 
ceps.  Their  nest  was  being  excavated  in  the  trunk  of 
a  large  rhododendron  tree,  at  a  spot  some  thirty  feet 
from  the  ground.  When  I  first  began  to  watch  the 
birds  the  cock  was  at  work.  He  confined  his  opera- 
tions to  a  spot  about  four  inches  from  the  surface,  so 
that,  as  he  hammered  away,  his  head,  neck,  and  a 
part  of  his  shoulders  disappeared  in  the  hole.  His  fore 
toes  grasped  the  inside  of  the  aperture,  and  his  hind 
toes  the  bark  of  the  tree.  The  wood  at  which  he  was 
working  was  sufficiently  hard  to  cause  the  taps  of  his 
bill  to  ring  out  clearly.  After  I  had  been  watching 
him  for  about  ten  minutes  he  flew  off  to  a  tree  hard 
by  and  uttered  a  number  of  curious  low  notes.    Then 


D 


34  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

his  spouse  appeared  and  he  caressed  her.  After  this 
both  birds  flew  off.  A  few  seconds  later  the  hen  came 
to  the  nest  hole  and  set  to  work.  Her  efforts  were 
not  directed  to  the  part  of  the  cavity  at  which  the 
cock  had  been  working.  Her  taps  were  at  a  spot 
deeper  down,  so  that  while  at  work  her  tail,  although 
at  right  angles  to  her  body,  derived  no  support  from 
the  trunk.  She  was  operating  on  soft  wood,  hence 
the  tapping  of  her  bill  was  scarcely  audible.  After 
working  for  about  eight  minutes  she  began  to  remove 
the  chips  of  wood  she  had  detached.  This  operation 
is  performed  so  rapidly  that  it  is  apt  to  be  overlooked. 
The  bird  plunges  its  head  into  the  hollow,  seizes  some 
chips,  draws  out  its  head  and  jerks  this  violently  to 
one  side,  usually  to  the  right,  and  thus  casts  the  chips 
over  its  shoulder. 

After  the  hen  had  been  at  work  for  nearly  ten 
minutes  she  flew  away.  Within  one  minute  and  a  half 
of  her  departure  the  cock  arrived  on  the  scene,  and  at 
once  set  to  work  in  a  most  business-like  fashion.  He 
now  operated  on  the  right  side  of  the  cavity,  and  not 
at  the  spot  to  which  his  wife  had  directed  her  atten- 
tion. After  working  for  exactly  twenty-five  minutes 
the  cock  flew  off.  Then  for  a  fraction  over  ten  minutes 
the  hole  was  deserted.  At  the  end  of  this  time  it  was 
the  cock  who  again  appeared.  He  put  in  a  spell  of 
thirty-five  minutes'  work,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
indulged  in  a  "  breather  "  lasting  three  minutes.  I 
then  went  away,  and  returned  nearly  three  hours  later, 
by  which  time  the  work  had  advanced  to  such  an 
extent  that  when  a  bird  was  excavating  at  the  deepest 


PIED   WOODPECKERS  35 

part  of  the  cavity  only  the  tail  and  the  tip  of  the  wing 
were  visible.  I  found  that  the  habit  of  the  birds  was 
to  cease  working  about  4  p.m.  I  do  not  know  at  what 
hour  they  commenced  work. 

Five  days  later  the  nest  hole  had  attained  such  a 
size  that  the  birds  were  able  to  turn  round  in  it,  and 
so  now  emerged  head  foremost.  When  throwing  away 
the  chips,  the  head  of  the  bird  would  appear  at  the 
aperture  with  the  beak  full  of  chips  and  dispose  of 
them  with  a  jerk  of  the  head.  The  head  of  a  wood- 
pecker at  the  entrance  to  its  hole  is  a  pretty  sight,  so 
bright  and  keen  is  its  eye.  The  excavation  of  the  nest 
from  start  to  finish  probably  occupies  from  ten  to 
fourteen  days. 

The  yellow-fronted  pied  woodpecker  sometimes 
selects  as  a  nesting  site  a  spot  in  a  tree -trunk  only  a 
few  inches  above  the  level  of  the  ground. 

Some  years  ago  my  ignorance  of  this  fact  afforded 
me  a  rather  amusing  experience.  I  noticed  a  pied 
woodpecker  with  some  insects  in  its  bill.  Obviously  it 
was  about  to  carry  these  to  its  young.  As  there  was 
only  one  clump  of  about  six  trees  in  the  vicinity  the 
nest  was  necessarily  in  one  of  these.  Having  half  an 
hour  to  spare,  I  determined  to  wait  and  discover  the 
whereabouts  of  the  nest.  The  sun  was  powerful,  so  I 
elected  to  squat  in  the  shade  close  by  the  trunk  of 
the  smallest  of  the  trees.  I  anticipated  that  the  wood- 
pecker would  fly  direct  to  its  nest  with  the  food. 
Birds  that  nest  in  holes  are  usually  quite  indifferent 
to  the  presence  of  man  ;  instinct  teaches  them  that 
their  nest  is  in  an  inaccessible  place.    But,  in  this  in- 


36  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

stance,  the  bird  kept  hopping  about  looking  very  dis- 
tressed. Consequently,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
its  nest  must  be  in  the  trunk  of  the  tree  near  which  I 
was  crouching.  I  stood  up  and  examined  the  trunk 
carefully,  but  found  no  signs  of  a  nest.  I  again  sat 
down  and  waited  until  the  patience  of  the  woodpecker 
should  be  exhausted,  but  it  continued  to  hop  about  on 
a  log  of  wood  with  the  food  in  its  beak  and  disgust 
plainly  depicted  in  its  face.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour 
I  went  off  mystified.  The  following  day  I  returned  to 
the  spot,  and  the  first  thing  that  caught  my  eye  was 
the  entrance  to  the  woodpecker's  nest  eight  inches  off 
the  ground  in  the  trunk  by  which  I  had  sat  on  the 
previous  day.  I  had  then  unwittingly  been  blocking 
the  approach  of  the  bird  ! 


VII 

A  JHIL  OUT  OF  SEASON 

EVEN  as  every  English  seaside  resort  has  its 
'*  season,"  so  is  there  for  every  Indian  jhil 
a  period  of  the  year  when  it  is  thronged  with 
avian  visitors.  At  other  times  of  the  year 
the  jhil,  hke  the  seaside  town,  is,  comparatively  speak- 
ing, deserted.  The  season  of  the  jhil  extends  from 
October  to  April — a  term  long  enough  to  turn  the 
average  lodging-house  keeper  green  with  envy  !  During 
the  winter  months  the  jhils  of  Northern  India  are  full 
to  overflowing  with  ducks,  geese,  coots,  pelicans,  cor- 
morants, and  waders  of  every  length  of  leg.  As  the 
weather  grows  hot,  the  majority  of  these  take  to  their 
wings  and  hie  themselves  to  cooler  climes,  where  they 
enter  upon  the  joyous  toil  of  rearing  up  their  families. 
Thus,  from  May  to  September,  the  permanent  residents 
hold  undisputed  possession  of  the  jhil.  The  number 
of  these  permanent  residents  is  considerable,  so  that  a 
jhil,  even  in  the  rains,  when  it  contains  most  water, 
has  not  the  forlorn  appearance  of,  let  us  say,  Margate 
in  winter. 

It  is  very  pleasant  during  a  short  break  in  the  rains 
to  visit  a  jhil  late  in  the  afternoon,  especially  if  a 

37 


38  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

breeze  be  blowing.  The  sky  presents  a  panorama  of 
clouds  of  the  most  varied  and  fantastic  shapes,  to 
which  the  setting  sun  imparts  hues  wonderful  and 
beautiful.  The  slanting  rays  are  reflected  and  re- 
fracted from  cloud  to  cloud,  so  that  not  infrequently 
there  appear  to  be  two  suns  behind  the  clouds,  a  major 
one  setting  in  the  west  and  a  minor  one  sinking  to 
the  eastern  horizon.  The  earth  below  is  very  beauti- 
ful. It  is  clothed  in  a  mantle  of  green  of  every  hue, 
from  the  vivid  emerald  of  the  young  rice  crop  to  the 
dark  bluish  green  of  the  pipal  tree.  As  likely  as  not 
the  jhil  is  so  thickly  studded  with  grasses  and  other 
aquatic  plants  as  to  present  the  appearance,  from  a 
little  distance,  of  a  number  of  flooded  fields,  in  most 
of  which  are  well-grown  crops — the  water  being  visible 
only  in  patches  here  and  there. 

The  most  conspicuous  of  the  occupants  of  the  jhil 
are  the  snow-white  egrets  (Herodias  alba).  These 
birds,  which  attain  a  length  of  a  yard,  strut  about 
solemnly  in  the  shallower  parts  of  the  lake,  seeking 
their  quarry.  Their  long  necks  project  high  above  the 
vegetation  ;  so  slender  are  these  that  they  might 
almost  belong  to  swans.  Here  and  there  stands 
motionless  a  "  long-necked  heron,  dread  of  nimble 
eels  "  (Ardea  cinerea),  waiting  patiently  until  a  luck- 
less frog  shall  approach.  The  grey  plumage  of  this 
species,  dull  and  sober  though  it  be,  stands  out  in 
bold  contrast  to  the  surrounding  greenery.  In  another 
part  of  the  jhil  a  couple  of  sarus  cranes  {Grus  antigone) 
are  visible.  This  is  the  only  species  of  crane  resident 
in  India  ;  the  others  are  to  be  numbered  among  those 


A   JHIL   OUT   OF   SEASON  39 

which  visit  the  jhil  in  the  "  season."  One  of  the 
saruses,  hke  the  heroine  of  the  "  penny  dreadful," 
has  drawn  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and  his  grey 
form,  relieved  by  patches  of  red  and  white  on  the 
head  and  neck,  shows  well  against  the  background  of 
dark  foliage.  His  mate  is  apparently  sitting  down. 
This  probably  indicates  the  presence  of  a  nest.  To 
discover  this  we  must  wade  and  chance  an  occasional 
immersion  to  the  waist.  Risking  this,  w^e  advance,  to 
the  disgust  of  the  saruses,  who  set  up  a  loud  trumpet- 
ing. Sometimes  the  parent  birds  attack  the  intruders. 
Such  conduct  is,  however,  rare.  Usually  the  sarus  in- 
dulges in  Lloyd  -  Georgian  methods  of  meeting  an 
enemy. 

The  nest  in  question  is  a  pile  of  rushes  and  water- 
weeds,  rising  a  couple  of  feet  from  the  water  and  large 
enough  for  a  man  to  stand  upon.  It  contains  two 
whitish  eggs  faintly  blotched  with  yellowish  brown. 

Viewed  from  the  margin,  the  jhil  appears  to  be 
utterly  devoid  of  waterfowl ;  but  in  this  case  things 
are  not  what  they  seem.  Before  we  have  waded 
far  in  the  direction  of  the  nest  of  the  sarus,  numbers 
of  duck  and  teal  which  were  hidden  by  the  sedges  and 
grasses  get  up  and  fly  to  another  part  of  the  jhil.  The 
first  birds  to  be  disturbed  are  some  cotton-teal  [Netto- 
pus  coromandelianus) .  As  these  consist  of  a  flock  of 
eight  or  ten  they  are  obviously  not  nesting.  The  cotton- 
teal  drake  is  a  bird  easy  to  identify.  Its  small  size, 
white  head,  and  black  necklace  are  unmistakable,  and 
the  white  margins  to  the  wings  are  very  conspicuous 
during  flight. 


40  GLIMPSES    OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

On  another  part  of  the  jhil  a  pair  of  spot-billed 
ducks  (Anas  poecilorhyncha)  settle  down.  These  are 
recognisable  even  at  a  considerable  distance  when  in 
the  water  by  the  white  patch  on  each  flank.  As  there 
are  two  of  these  birds  together  it  is  probable  that  they 
have  a  nest  hidden  in  one  of  the  sedge-covered  islets 
studded  about  the  tank.  The  other  ducks  disturbed  by 
our  approach  are  whistling  teal  {Dendrocycna  javanica), 
•  which  occur  in  considerable  flocks,  and  a  few  comb- 
duck  {Sarcidiornis  melanotus).  All  these  species  of 
duck  and  teal  are  permanent  residents  in  India. 

Not  a  single  coot  is  to  be  seen  upon  the  jhil.  The 
explanation  of  this  is  that  this  particular  tank  dries 
up  in  the  hot  weather,  and  coots  usually  keep  to  those 
lakes  that  contain  water  all  the  year  round. 

Half  a  dozen  terns  form  a  conspicuous  and  beautiful 
feature  of  the  jhil.  As  they  sail  overhead,  with  every 
now  and  then  a  descent  to  the  water  to  secure  a  frog 
or  small  fish,  their  silvery  wings  stand  out  boldly  from 
a  dark  cloud  on  the  southern  horizon.  The  terns  at 
the  jhil  are  all  of  the  black-bellied  species  (Sterna 
melanogaster) .  The  other  species  haunt  rivers  in  pre- 
ference to  shallow  lakes. 

Last,  but  not  least,  mention  must  be  made  of  Pallas's 
fishing  eagle  (Haliaetus  leucoryphus) .  One  or  more 
pairs  of  this  bird  are  to  be  seen  in  the  vicinity  of  every 
jhil.  In  the  earlier  part  of  the  day  they  are  active, 
screaming  creatures,  but  when  once  they  have  made 
a  good  meal  off  a  teal  or  some  fish  they  become  very 
sluggish.  Two  of  them  are  sitting  about  fifty  yards 
apart  on  a  hand  alongside  the  jhil,  looking  like  kites 


A   JHIL   OUT   OF   SEASON  41 

with  whitish  heads.  They  sit  as  motionless  as  statues. 
They  are  obviously  feeling  very  lazy.  Presently  a 
king-crow  (Dicrurus  ater)  comes  up  and,  uttering  that 
soft  note  which  seems  to  be  peculiar  to  the  rainy 
season,  makes  repeated  feints  at  the  head  of  one  of 
the  fishing  eagles.  Save  for  a  slight  inclination  of  the 
head,  the  eagle  pays  no  attention  to  the  attack  of  its 
puny  adversary.  Eventually,  the  king-crow  gives  up 
in  despair  and  flies  off,  probably  to  find  something 
which  will  take  more  notice  of  his  threatening  demon- 
strations. 

Even  when  I  approach  the  fishing  eagle  the  phleg- 
matic bird  only  flies  a  few  yards.  There  is  no  creature 
more  sluggish  than  a  bird  or  beast  of  prey  that  has 
recently  made  a  good  meal. 


VIII 

BIRDS    IN    WHITE 

jA  LMOST  every  species  of  bird  and  beast  throws 
/  ^     off  an  occasional  albinistic  variation  or  sport, 

/  ^  which  tends  to  breed  true.  Such  sports 
"^^are  of  two  kinds — complete  and  incomplete 
albinos.  In  the  former,  the  organism  is  totally  devoid  of 
external  pigment,  so  that  the  eye  looks  red,  there 
being  no  colouring  matter  in  the  iris  to  mask  the  small 
blood  vessels  in  it.  In  the  incomplete  albinistic  form 
the  iris  retains  the  pigment,  so  that  the  eye  colour  is 
normal.  True  albinos  have  very  poor  sight,  hence  when 
such  sports  occur  in  a  species  in  a  state  of  nature  they 
soon  perish  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  The  white 
varieties  with  pigmented  eyes  are  not  handicapped  by 
bad  eyesight,  but  their  whiteness  makes  them  con- 
spicuous to  the  creatures  that  prey  upon  them  ;  so 
that,  unless  they  are  well  able  to  defend  themselves 
or  unless  they  dwell  in  a  region  of  everlasting  snow, 
they  tend  to  be  eliminated  by  natural  selection. 

If  protective  colouring  were  as  important  to  the 
welfare  of  birds  as  Wallaceians  and  modern  Darwin- 
ians assert,  all  the  birds  of  the  Polar  regions  would  be 
white  and  not  a  single  white  species  would  be  found  in 

42 


BIRDS    IN    WHITE  43 

the  temperate  zones  or  in  the  Tropics.  That  coloured 
species  occur  in  the  Arctic  regions  and  white  species 
in  the  Tropics  is  conclusive  proof  that  in  those  par- 
ticular cases,  at  any  rate,  it  is  not  of  paramount  im- 
portance to  the  species  that  they  be  protectively 
coloured. 

Finn  and  I  have  shown  in  The  Making  of  Species 
that  the  ice-bound  Arctic  and  Antarctic  regions  are  not 
inhabited,  as  popular  works  on  zoology  would  have 
us  believe,  by  a  snow-white  fauna.  We  have  shown 
that  in  the  Polar  countries  the  coloured  species  of 
birds  outnumber  the  white  species.  I  will,  therefore, 
not  dilate  further  upon  this  subject.  It  will  suffice 
to  repeat  that  in  the  area  of  eternal  snow  the  white 
forms  are  at  an  advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence, 
as  their  whiteness  tends  to  render  them  difficult  to 
see,  while,  in  regions  where  snow  is  unknown,  such 
organisms  labour  under  a  disadvantage  because  of 
their  conspicuousness,  and,  other  things  being  equal, 
they  ought  not  to  be  able  to  hold  their  own  against 
less  showy  rivals. 

The  fact  that  white  birds  exist  in  the  plains  of  India 
must  mean  that  their  colour  is  not  a  matter  of  great 
importance,  that  a  conspicuous  organism  can  survive 
in  the  fight  for  life  provided  it  be  otherwise  well 
equipped  for  the  contest.  From  this  it  follows  that 
it  is  incorrect  to  speak  of  the  whiteness  of  such  organ- 
isms as  the  direct  product  of  natural  selection. 

Let  us  take  a  brief  survey  of  those  birds  of  India 
of  which  the  plumage  is  largely  white,  and  try  to 
discover  how  it  is  that  each  of  them  is  able  to  hold  its 


44  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

own  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  notwithstanding  its 
showy  plumage.  These  birds  are  the  spoonbill,  the 
egrets,  the  black-winged  stilt,  the  avocet,  the  white 
ibis,  the  flamingo,  adult  cock  paradise  flycatcher, 
and  certain  of  the  gulls,  terns,  pelicans  and  storks, 
including  the  open-bill.  With  many  of  these  every  one 
is  famihar.  Accordingly,  it  will  not  be  necessary  to 
describe  the  sea  gulls,  the  pelicans  or  the  flamingo. 

The  spoonbill  (Platalea  leucorodia)  is  a  bird  larger 
than  a  kite  with  very  long  black  legs  and  a  bill  of  the 
same  hue  which  is  flat  and  expanded  at  the  end  like  a 
spoon,  hence  the  popular  name  of  the  bird.  Perhaps 
another  name  for  the  bird — Banjo-bill— still  better 
describes  its  beak.  Spoonbills  dwell  on  the  fringe  of 
water  and  feed  much  as  ducks  do. 

The  white  ibis  {Ihis  melanocephala)  is  another 
wading  bird,  rather  smaller  than  the  spoonbill  and 
with  considerably  shorter  legs.  All  its  plumage  is 
white,  but  the  legs,  bill,  and  featherless  head  and 
upper  neck  are  black.  The  bill  is  long  and  curved  hke 
that  of  the  curlew.  The  stilt  [Himantopus  candidus) 
may  be  described  as  a  sandpiper  on  red  stilts.  It  is 
a  white  bird  with  dark  wings  and  back  which  spends 
its  days  wading  in  shallow  water.  The  avocet  {Re- 
curvirostra  avocetta)  is  perhaps  the  most  elegant  of 
all  wading  birds.  It  is  slightly  bigger  than  the  stilt 
but  with  shorter  legs.  Its  body  is  white  picked  out 
with  black.  Its  most  characteristic  feature  is  a  long, 
slender  bill  which  curves  upwards.  Like  the  species 
already  mentioned,  it  feeds  in  shallow  water,  and  I 
have  seen  it  on  the  Cooum. 


BIRDS    IN    WHITE  45 

The  open-bill  {Anastomus  oscitans)  looks  like  a  shabby 
specimen  of  the  common  white  stork.  It  is  character- 
ised by  a  peculiar  beak,  of  which  the  mandibles  do  not 
meet  in  the  middle  and  look  as  though  they  had  been 
bent  in  an  attempt  to  crack  a  hard  nut.  The  egrets, 
of  which  there  are  several  species  in  India,  are  snow- 
white,  heron-like  birds.  The  most  familiar  is  the 
cattle  egret  {Bubulcus  coromandiis) ,  which  Finn  charac- 
terises as  one  of  the  most  picturesque  birds  in  the 
East.  This  is  the  bird  that  struts  along  beside  a  cow 
or  buffalo  and  seizes  the  grasshoppers  disturbed  by 
the  motion  of  the  quadruped.  It  is  the  least  aquatic 
of  all  the  egrets,  most  of  which  are  true  waders. 

Terns  may  be  described  as  very  graceful  and  slenderly 
built  gulls.  Their  feet  are  webbed,  so  that  they  can 
swim  after  the  manner  of  ducks  and  sea  gulls,  but 
they  spend  most  of  their  time  on  their  powerful 
pinions  and  so  elegant  is  their  flight  that  they  have 
been  called  sea-swallows.  The  adult  cock  paradise 
flycatcher  {Terpsiphone  paradisi)  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  birds  in  the  world.  As  he  is  described  in 
another  essay  it  is  only  necessary  for  me  to  state  in 
this  place  that  he  is  a  white  bird  with  a  black -crested 
head.  He  is  not  much  larger  than  a  sparrow,  but  his 
two  median  tail  feathers  are  twenty  inches  in  length 
and  float  behind  him  like  streamers  of  white  satin  as 
he  flits  from  tree  to  tree. 

It  will  be  observed  that  of  the  above  list  of  Indian 
birds  that  are  mainly  white,  only  the  paradise  fly- 
catcher belongs  to  the  great  Order  of  Passeres  ; 
moreover,    with   this    exception,    all    are    wading   or 


46  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

aquatic  birds.  These  are  significant  facts  if  we  can 
interpret  them  aright.  I  interpret  them  in  the  follow- 
ing manner.  It  may  be  taken  as  a  fact  that  every 
species  throws  off  occasionally  white  mutations  or 
sports,  which  breed  true,  so  that,  if  allowed  to  persist, 
they  form  the  starting  point  for  new  varieties  and 
species.  As  most  passerine  birds  are  small  and  preyed 
upon  by  the  raptores,  white  varieties  among  them 
usually  perish  at  an  early  age  on  account  of  their 
conspicuousness.  Thus  there  are  very  few  white 
passerine  birds.  The  paradise  flycatcher  lives  amid 
thick  foliage,  and  so  is  comparatively  immune  from 
the  attacks  of  birds  of  prey  ;  but  even  here  it  is  note- 
worthy that  the  hens  are  not  white  but  chestnut  in 
colour  throughout  life,  and  the  cocks  have  chestnut- 
coloured  plumage  until  they  are  two  years  old.  As 
the  cock  shares  in  the  duties  of  incubation  equally 
with  the  hen,  her  failure  to  acquire  white  plumage 
cannot  be  accounted  for  by  supposing  her  to  have 
a  greater  need  of  protection.  Finn  has  suggested  that 
the  whiteness  of  the  cock  is  a  senile  character ;  that 
it  is  the  livery  of  old  age. 

The  majority  of  the  non-passerine  birds  that  are 
altogether  or  mainly  white  are  large  and  able  to  fight 
well,  so  that  they  are  comparatively  immune  from  the 
attacks  of  raptorial  birds.  The  gulls  and  terns,  al- 
though small,  fly  so  powerfully  as  to  be  equally  safe. 
In  the  case  of  birds  which  secure  their  food  in  the  water, 
whiteness  is  probably  useful  in  rendering  them  less 
conspicuous  to  organisms  living  in  the  liquid  medium 
than  they  would  be  were  they  coloured. 


BIRDS    IN   WHITE  47 

Further,  whiteness  of  feather  seems  to  be  correlated 
in  some  way  with  the  power  to  resist  cold  and  damp. 

It  should  be  noted  that  not  one  of  the  larger  fruit- 
eating  birds  is  white.  The  reason  of  this  would  seem 
to  be  that  in  the  case  of  non-aquatic  birds  such  white 
species  possess  no  advantage  in  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence, but,  on  the  contrary,  the  whiteness  of  their 
plumage  is  perhaps  correlated  with  weakness  of 
constitution.  This,  of  course,  is  a  heavier  handicap  to 
a  large  bird  than  being  conspicuous  is. 

The  correlation  or  interdependence  of  various 
characteristics  and  organs  is  a  subject  full  of  interest, 
but  one  which  has  hitherto  attracted  comparatively 
little  attention.  Close  study  of  this  phenomenon  may 
eventually  revolutionise  zoological  thought.  Whether 
this  surmise  prove  right  or  wrong,  one  thing  is  certain, 
and  that  is  there  is  more  in  the  philosophy  of  white- 
ness than  the  old-fashioned  evolutionist  dreams  of. 


IX 
THE    PIED    CRESTED    CUCKOO 

THE  pied  crested  cuckoo  {Coccystes  jacohinus) 
is  the  most  handsome  of  all  the  cuckoos. 
He  is  more  than  this.  He  stands  out  head 
and  shoulders  above  his  fellow-deceivers. 
Lest  these  words  should  convey  an  exaggerated  idea 
of  his  splendour,  let  me  say  that  they  do  not  necessarily 
mean  very  much.  Among  the  family  of  parasitic 
cuckoos  the  standard  of  beauty  is  not  high.  Most  of  the 
CuciiUdcB  not  only  lack  bright  colours,  ornamental 
plumes,  and  other  superfluous  appendages,  but  are 
also  devoid  of  the  smart  appearance  and  soldier-like 
bearing  that  characterise  the  great  majority  of  the 
feathered  folk.  Thus  it  cometh  to  pass  that  the  pied 
crested  cuckoo,  although  he  cannot  hold  a  candle  to 
such  birds  as  the  paradise  flycatcher  or  the  oriole,  is 
able  to  point  the  claw  of  scorn  at  his  fellow-cuckoos. 
His  black-and-white  livery  is  distinctly  stylish  and  is 
embelhshed  by  a  crest  that  does  not  lie  down  as  though 
it  were  ashamed  of  itself,  but  projects  prettily  from 
the  back  of  the  head. 

Even  as  a  little  girl  of  my  acquaintance  calls  every 
plump   Indian   a   Bengali,   so   do   the  inhabitants  of 

48 


THE   PIED   CRESTED   CUCKOO  49 

Bengal  call  all  birds  possessing  these  pretty  crests 
bulbuls.  On  this  principle  the  Bengali  name  for  the 
pied  crested  cuckoo  is  Kola  hulhul.  On  the  other  hand, 
black  bulbuls  {Hypsipetes) ,  which  possess  no  crests, 
are  not  recognised  as  bulbuls  by  the  natives  of  India. 
Obviously,  the  crest  maketh  the  bulbul. 

The  pied  crested  cuckoo  is  a  bird  that  is  easily 
recognised.  The  upper  parts  of  his  plumage  are  black, 
his  lower  parts  and  the  tips  of  his  tail  feathers  are 
white.  There  is  in  each  wing  a  conspicuous  white  bar. 
Then,  there  is  the  black  crest.  As  regards  size  the 
plumage  of  the  common  cuckoo  would  fit  our  pied 
crested  friend  like  a  glove. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to  set  eyes  on  him  in  order 
to  recognise  him.  To  hear  him  sufficeth.  In  this 
respect  he  differs  in  no  way  from  his  brother  cuckoos. 
A  silent  cuckoo  is  unthinkable.  The  generating  of 
sound  is  to  the  cuckoo  what  wine  is  to  the  wine-bibber, 
poker  to  the  gambler,  fighting  to  the  soldier,  "  votes 
for  women  "  to  the  Suffragette.  According  to  cuculine 
philosophy,  hfe  without  noise  is  but  the  image  of  death. 
The  reason  of  this  is  obvious.  At  the  breeding  season 
a  vast  amount  of  surplus  energy  is  generated  in  birds. 
This  has  to  find  some  outlet.  It  is  usually  dissipated  in 
the  form  of  vocal  effort,  the  dances  and  antics  of 
courtship,  and  the  labours  of  nest  building  and  feeding 
the  young.  Or  it  may  find  expression  in  more  concrete 
form  in  the  growth  of  plumes  and  other  ornaments. 
To  the  parasitic  cuckoos  most  of  these  outlets  are 
closed.  They  do  not  produce  nuptial  ornaments  ;  to 
build  nests  they  know  not  how.    They  are  denied  the 


50  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

pleasurable  labours  of  rearing  up  their  offspring.  They 
do  not  appear  to  indulge  in  elaborate  courtship.  All 
their  superfluous  energy  is  sent  forth  in  the  form  of 
noise.  Watch  any  cuckoo  while  he  is  calling,  be  it  the 
cheery  canorus,  who  gladdens  the  Himalayas,  or  the 
koel  or  the  brain-fever  bird  or  the  pied  crested  cuckoo, 
who  enliven  the  plains,  and  you  will  be  driven  to  the 
conclusion  that  they  are  demented  creatures.  Although 
the  frenzied  screaming  of  the  pied  cuckoo  is  easily 
recognised,  it  is  difficult  to  describe.  "  Its  call,"  writes 
Stuart  Baker,  "  is  a  very  loud  metallic  double  note, 
too  harsh  to  be  called  a  whistle.  In  the  early  part  of 
the  season,  before  its  voice  has  fully  formed,  its  cries 
are  particularly  harsh  and  disagreeable,  and  the  second 
note,  which  should  be  the  same  in  tone  as  the  first, 
often  goes  off  at  a  tangent.  Later  on  in  the  year,  though 
it  becomes  more  noisy  than  ever,  its  notes  are  rather 
musical." 

Much  remains  to  be  discovered  regarding  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  pied  crested  cuckoo  in  India.  Al- 
though it  has  been  observed  in  most  parts  of  the 
country,  it  appears  to  undergo  considerable  local 
migration.  In  Northern  India  I  have  seen  the  bird 
only  during  the  rains,  but  I  believe  that  there  are 
cases  on  record  of  its  occurring  there  in  winter.  On 
the  other  hand,  I  have  seen  pied  crested  cuckoos  in 
Madras  in  July,  at  which  time  they  are  supposed  all 
to  migrate  northwards.  An  anonymous  writer  recently 
put  forward  the  theory  that  our  Indian  cuckoos  are 
not  really  migratory,  that  they  appear  to  migrate 
because  of  their  skulking  habits.     Cuckoos  are  loved 


THE   PIED   CRESTED   CUCKOO  51 

by  their  fellow-birds  about  as  much  as  Lord  Morley 
is  loved  by  Anglo-Indians.  As  cuckoos  dislike  demon- 
strations, the  theory  is  that  they  habitually  shun 
observation,  and  are  therefore  not  noticed,  except  at 
the  breeding  season,  when  their  loud  excited  calls 
betray  their  presence.  This  theory  is  a  plausible  one, 
but  the  facts  are,  I  think,  against  it.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  some  species  of  cuckoo  are  migratory. 
Indeed,  one  of  the  earlier  theories  to  account  for  the 
parasitic  habits  of  the  common  cuckoo  was  that  the 
bird  did  not  stay  in  England  sufficiently  long  to 
enable  it  to  rear  up  a  brood.  Again,  the  Indian 
koel  {Eudynamis  honor ata)  certainly  migrates.  No 
bird  is  commoner  in  Lahore  in  the  hot  weather, 
but  I  did  not  set  eyes  upon  the  bird  there  in  the 
course  of  two  winters  during  which  I  took  several 
walks  a  week,  armed  with  field-glasses.  Likewise 
the  pied  crested  cuckoo  is  also  migratory,  but  the 
particular  direction  of  its  movements  remains  to  be 
established.  I  would  ask  every  one  interested  in 
birds  to  make  a  note  of  each  date  on  which  this 
cuckoo  is  seen. 

The  parasitic  habits  of  the  pied  cuckoo  are  interesting. 
The  bird  victimises  various  species  of  babbler,  more 
especially  the  jungle  babbler  {Crater opus  canorus)  and 
the  large  grey  babbler  {Argya  malcomi).  There  is 
nothing  particularly  remarkable  in  this,  for  babblers 
are  the  favourite  dupes  of  Indian  cuckoos.  The  point 
that  is  of  interest  is  that  the  common  hawk-cuckoo, 
or  brain-fever  bird  {Hierococcyx  varius)  also  victimises 
the  seven  sisters.     Now  this  cuckoo  is  much  hke  a 


52  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

hawk  in  appearance,  so  much  so  that  it  affords  the 
stock  example  of  aggressive  mimicry  among  birds. 
Says  the  Wallaceian :  "  This  cuckoo  resembles  a 
hawk  so  closely  that  small  birds  mistake  it  for  one. 
When  the  nesting  babblers  see  it,  they  flee  for  their 
lives,  and  the  cuckoo — the  ass  in  the  lion's  skin — 
seizes  the  opportunity  to  deposit  an  egg  in  the  mo- 
mentarily deserted  nest.  The  strange  egg  is  not  noticed 
by  the  babblers  on  their  return  because  it  is  blue  like 
theirs.  We  thus  see  how  natural  selection  has  brought 
about  the  hawk-like  appearance  of  the  brain-fever 
bird,  and  caused  the  egg  to  become  blue."  If  all 
cuckoos  parasitic  on  babblers  were  like  hawks  in 
appearance,  I  should  have  nothing  to  urge  against 
the  above  explanation.  Unfortunately  for  the  Walla- 
ceians,  the  pied  crested  and  other  cuckoos,  which  do 
not  look  in  the  least  like  hawks,  successfully  dupe  the 
seven  sisters.  It  w^ould  seem,  therefore,  that  this 
elaborate  disguise  of  the  hawk-cuckoo  is  quite  un- 
necessary. I  grant  that  it  may  make  very  smooth  the 
path  of  the  brain-fever  bird.  This,  however,  is  not 
enough.  As  I  have  repeatedly  said,  almost  I  fear  ad 
nauseam,  natural  selection  cannot  be  said  to  have 
brought  about  a  structural  peculiarity  which  is  proved 
to  be  merely  useful,  and  not  essential.  Unless  it  can 
be  shown  that,  but  for  a  certain  peculiarity,  a  species 
would  have  perished,  it  is  incorrect  to  speak  of  natural 
selection  as  having  fixed  that  characteristic  in  the 
species  by  eliminating  all  individuals  that  did  not 
possess  it.  Moreover,  if  it  can  be  shown  that  any 
specified  character  has   such   a  survival   value,    the 


THE   PIED   CRESTED   CUCKOO  53 

selectionist  has  still  to  prove  that  the  characteristic 
had  this  value  at  the  earliest,  and  at  each  successive 
stage  of  its  development. 

I  submit,  then,  that  the  Wallaceian's  explanation 
of  the  hawk-like  appearance  of  the  brain-fever  bird  is 
in  all  probabihty  not  the  correct  one.  In  the  same  way 
it  is  doubtful  whether  the  blue  eggs  of  the  brain-fever 
bird  and  the  pied  crested  cuckoo  can  be  fairly  laid  to 
the  charge  of  natural  selection.  The  common  cuckoo 
sometimes  lays  its  eggs,  which  are  not  blue,  in  the  nests 
of  birds  whose  eggs  are  blue,  for  example  the  hedge- 
sparrow  in  England  and  the  Himalayan  laughing  thrush 
in  India. 

The  pied  crested  cuckoo,  when  it  first  leaves  the 
nest,  differs  considerably  from  the  adult  in  appear- 
ance. Its  upper  parts  are  slaty  grey,  and  its  lower 
parts,  the  wing  patch  and  the  tips  of  the  outer  tail 
feathers  are  pale  buff,  so  that  the  young  cuckoo,  when 
flying,  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  bank  myna 
(Acridotheres  ginginianus)  but  for  the  length  of  its 
tail.  Like  all  young  cuckoos,  it  is  a  greedy,  querulous 
thing.  It  sits  on  a  branch,  clamouring  continually  for 
food,  flapping  its  wings  and  uttering  a  very  fair  imita- 
tion of  the  babbler  call. 

September  is  the  month  in  which  to  look  out  for 
young  pied  cuckoos.  Those  that  I  have  seen  appear 
always  to  be  unaccompanied  by  foster-brothers  or 
sisters.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  either  that  the 
parent  cuckoos  destroy  the  legitimate  eggs  at  the  time 
of  depositing  their  own,  or  that  the  young  birds  have 
the  depraved  habits  of  the  youthful  Cucuhis  canorus. 


54  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

But  there  are  cases  on  record  of  young  pied  crested 
cuckoos  being  accompanied  by  young  babblers.  It  is 
thus  evident  that  much  remains  to  be  discovered 
regarding  the  habits  of  Coccystes  jacohinus. 


X 

VULTURES 

HAVING  dealt  in  Bombay  Ducks  with 
what  I  may  perhaps  term  the  domestic 
vulture  of  India — Neophron  ginginianus, 
or  Pharaoh's  chicken — I  do  not  pro- 
pose again  to  discuss  this  worthy  but  ugly  fowl. 
Nevertheless,  before  passing  on  to  the  aristocratic 
vultures,  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  re- 
produce Phil  Robinson's  inimitable  description  of 
our  famihar  Neophron :  "A  shabby-looking  fowl 
of  dirty  white  plumage,  about  the  size  of  an  able- 
bodied  hen,  but  disproportionately  long  for  its  height, 
pacing  seriously  along  the  high  road,  taking  each 
step  with  its  legs  set  wide  apart,  with  all  the  circum- 
spection of  a  Chinaman  among  papers,  but  keeping 
its  eyes  as  busily  about  it  for  chance  morsels  of  refuse 
as  any  other  professional  scavenger.  The  traffic, 
both  of  vehicles  and  foot  passengers,  may  be  con- 
siderable, but  the  vulture  is  a  municipal  institution 
and  knows  it.  No  one  thinks  of  molesting  it ;  indeed, 
if  it  chose  to  obstruct  the  footpath,  the  natives  would 
make  way  for  it.  Children  let  it  alone,  and  dogs  do 
not   run   after  it.     So   it   goes  plodding   through   its 

55 


56  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

day's  work,  solemn,  and  shabby,  and  hungry,  un- 
complaining, and  poor,  and  at  night  flaps  up  into 
some  tree  and  quietly  dozes  off  to  sleep."  Neophron 
ginginianus  always  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  heroes 
in  some  of  George  Gissing's  novels. 

Very  different  are  the  ways  of  the  other  members 
of  the  vulture  tribe.  They  are  not  content  to  wander 
about  among  rubbish  heaps  and  in  other  still  less 
savoury  places  in  the  hope  of  securing  any  small 
morsel.  They  demand  substantial  fare ;  nothing 
less  than  a  large  carcase  pleases  them.  It  is  true 
that  they  have  sometimes  to  put  up  with  garbage  of 
the  lesser  sort,  so  that  those  which  have  not  been 
successful  in  their  hunt  have  perforce  to  gather  in 
the  trees  near  the  municipal  slaughter-house  and  await 
the  casting  forth  of  the  offal.  Their  usual  method 
of  securing  a  meal  is  of  the  won-by-waiting  description. 
They  mount  high  into  the  air  and  float  on  outstretched 
pinions  3000  or  4000  feet  or  more  above  the  level 
of  the  earth,  and  thence  scan  its  surface  with  eager 
eye.  When  the  hand  of  death  strikes  any  terrestrial 
creature,  down  comes  the  soaring  vulture.  His  earth- 
ward flight  is  observed  by  his  neighbour,  floating  in 
the  air  a  mile  away,  who  follows  quickly  after  number 
one.  In  a  few  seconds  numbers  three,  four,  five,  six^ 
and  others  are  also  making  for  the  quarry,  so  that 
the  stricken  creature,  before  life  has  left  it,  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  hungry  vultures,  and,  as  the 
poet  has  it,  "  but  lives  to  feel  the  vultures  bick'ring 
for  their  horrid  meal."  Nor  do  these  wait  for  death 
to  set  in  before  they  begin  their  ghastly  repast.    It 


VULTURES  57 

suffices  that  their  wretched  victim  is  too  feeble  to 
harm  them  ;  they  then  set  to  work  to  tear  it  to  pieces, 
utterly  indifferent  to  its  cries  of  agony.  Such  behaviour 
is  characteristic  of  all  birds  and  beasts  of  prey.  These, 
in  consequence,  have  been  dubbed  "  cruel  "  by  those 
who  should  know  better.  Thus  Bonner,  in  his  "  Forest 
Creatures,"  writes  :  "  Just  as  a  child  likes  to  enjoy 
the  consciousness  of  having  possession  of  a  cake,  and 
revels  for  a  while  in  the  pleasurable  feeling  before 
taking  the  first  bite,  feeling  sure  that  delay  will  not 
weaken  his  tenure,  so  will  an  eagle  very  often  toy 
with  his  victim,  and  though  within  his  grasp,  defer 
the  fatal  grip.  At  such  times  his  appetite  is  probably 
not  very  keen  ;  or  he  is  in  a  merry  humour  and  likes 
the  fun  of  seeing  the  terror  he  causes,  as  he  races 
in  his  mirth  round  and  round  the  animal  almost 
paralysed  with  fear.  Or  perhaps  there  is  somewhat 
of  a  Caligula  in  his  nature,  and  he  considers  that 
the  only  true  enjoyment  which  is  purchased  by  the 
acute  suffering  of  others.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  will 
thus  dally  with  a  creature's  anguish,  and  only  after 
having  twenty  times  swooped  down  as  if  to  seize  it  in 
his  talons,  do  so  in  reality." 

To  call  such  behaviour  on  the  part  of  a  bird  of  prey 
cruel  is,  I  submit,  utterly  wrong,  and  based  on  an 
altogether  incorrect  perception  of  the  animal  mind. 
It  is  my  belief  that  vultures  and  other  raptorial  birds 
do  not  recognise  in  the  screams  of  their  victims  the 
wails  of  pain.  Their  power  of  reasoning  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  enable  them  to  interpret  the  meaning  of 
these  cries.     How  can  they  possibly  know  that  they 


58  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

are  hurting  their  victim,  or  that  it  can  feel  ?  They 
have  never  been  taught  that  it  is  most  painful  to 
be  torn  to  pieces,  and  they  themselves  have  not 
experienced  the  sensation.  How,  then,  are  they  to 
understand  that  it  hurts  ?  An  Indian  coolie,  even, 
does  not  appear  to  appreciate  the  fact  that  birds  can 
feel  pain,  for  when  accompanying  a  man  out  shooting 
he  will  pick  up  a  winged  snipe  or  duck  and  put  it, 
while  still  alive,  in  the  game  stick  and  leave  it  there 
to  die  a  lingering  death.  Now,  I  readily  admit  that 
the  Indian  villager  is  not  overburdened  with  brains, 
but  he  is  capable  of  simple  reasoning,  which  is  more 
than  can  be  said  of  any  bird.  He  certainly  is  not 
conscious  that  by  putting  the  head  of  a  live  bird 
into  a  game  stick  he  is  causing  unnecessary  pain  ; 
much  more  are  birds  of  prey  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
being  eaten  alive  is  a  most  painful  experience. 

A  crowd  of  vultures  gathers  round  a  stricken  animal 
in  almost  as  short  a  space  of  time  as  a  mob  of  gaping 
Londoners  collects  round  the  victim  of  an  accident. 
Recently,  in  the  course  of  a  shoot  in  the  Terai,  the 
man  in  the  machan  next  to  mine  shot  a  spotted 
deer,  which  fell  lifeless  in  an  open  patch  in  the  forest. 
By  the  time  the  line  of  beaters  had  reached  our 
machans  fifteen  or  sixteen  vultures  had  assembled 
round  the  dead  stag,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
we,  from  our  machans,  kept  the  greedy  birds  off  the 
carcase. 

Vultures  are  always  to  be  found  at  the  burning 
ghat.  Wood  is  expensive  in  many  parts  of  India, 
so  that  only  the  more  wealthy  completely  burn  the 


» 


VULTURES  59 

remains  of  their  dead  relatives.  For  the  poor  and 
the  parsimonious  the  vultures  complete  the  work 
commenced  by  the  fire,  so  that  truer  than  even  its 
author  suspected  is  Michelet's  description  of  vultures 
as  "  beneficent  crucibles  of  living  fire  through  which 
Nature  passes  everything  that  might  corrupt  the 
higher  life."  When  a  body,  with  the  face  only  singed, 
is  cast  on  to  the  Ganges,  at  least  one  vulture  alights 
upon  it  and  proceeds  to  devour  it  as  it  is  borne  on 
the  waters  of  the  sacred  river  ;  the  air  and  gases 
in  the  corpse  keep  both  it  and  the  vulture  afloat. 
Sooner  or  later  a  rent  causes  the  gases  to  escape, 
then  the  corpse  sinks  suddenly  and  the  vulture  is 
often  hard  put  to  it  to  reach  the  bank,  for  it  cannot 
fly  properly  when  its  wings  are  wet.  The  half -burnt 
corpse  is  not  always  consigned  to  the  river,  and  in 
these  circumstances  the  scene  at  the  ghat  when  the 
living  human  beings  have  left  it  is  not  one  that  is 
pleasant  to  contemplate.  But  in  India,  where  Nature's 
back  premises  are  so  exposed,  it  is  not  always  possible 
to  avoid  it.  More  than  once  when  strolling  along  a 
river  bank  have  I  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  come 
upon  a  company  of  vultures  squatting  in  an  irregular 
circle  round  some  object,  each  fighting  with  its  neigh- 
bour for  a  place  at  the  repast.  The  vultures  are  not 
the  only  participants.  Some  pariah  dogs  run  about 
on  the  outskirts,  every  now  and  then  making  frantic 
efforts  to  wedge  themselves  in  between  the  vultures 
and  so  obtain  for  their  emaciated  bodies  a  mouthful 
of  food.  Some  crows  and  kites  are  invariably  present, 
trusting  to  their  superior  agility  to  snatch  an  occasional 


6o  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

morsel.  And  in  the  Punjab  some  ravens  will  also  be 
at  the  feast. 

There  are  several  species  of  vulture  in  India.  Next 
to  the  scavenger  vulture  the  commonest  is  the  white- 
backed  species  {Pseudogyps  hengalensis).  This  is  not 
a  bad-looking  bird  in  its  solemn  lugubrious  way. 
Its  general  colour  is  ashy  black — the  black  of  a  thread- 
bare coat.  Its  back  is  white,  but  this  is  usually  nearly 
entirely  hidden  by  the  dark  wings,  and  shows  merely 
as  a  thin  streak  of  white  along  the  middle  of  the  back. 
The  dark  grey  head  and  neck  are  almost  devoid  of 
feathers  and  their  nakedness  is  accentuated  by  a  ruff 
or  collar  of  whitish  feathers.  The  bareness  of  the 
head  makes  the  large  hooked  beak  look  longer  and 
bigger  than  it  really  is.  The  bird  is  nearly  a  yard 
in  length. 

A  yet  finer  bird  is  the  black,  King,  or  Pondicherry 
vulture  [Otogyps  calvus).  The  back  and  wings  of 
this  species  are  glossy  black  relieved  by  white  patches 
on  the  thighs.  Its  bare  head  and  neck  are  yellowish 
red,  and  there  is  a  wattle  of  this  colour  on  each  side 
of  the  head.  This  vulture,  unlike  the  last  species, 
is  sohtary,  and  is  called  the  **  King  vulture  "  be- 
cause, when  it  comes  to  a  carcase,  all  the  vulgar  herd 
of  smaller  vultures,  kites,  and  crows  give  way  before 
it,  and,  as  a  rule,  are  afraid  to  approach  until  this 
regal  bird  has  had  its  fill. 

Vultures  build  huge  platforms  of  nests  high  up  in 
lofty  trees,  and,  like  sand  martins,  rear  up  their  young 
in  the  winter. 


XI 
THE  INDIAN   ROBIN 

SPEAKING  generally,  the  birds  of  India  are 
to  the  feathered  folk  of  the  British  Isles  as 
wine  is  to  water.  The  birds,  such  as  the 
blue  tits,  which  we  looked  upon  in  our  youth 
as  possessing  gay  plumage,  seem  to  have  lost  some 
of  their  lustre  when  we  again  set  eyes  upon  them 
after  a  sojourn  in  the  East.  It  is  not  that  they  or 
we  have  grown  older,  that  their  feathers  have  lost 
their  ancient  splendour  or  that  the  rose  rims  to  our 
spectacles  have  worn  away.  The  explanation  lies 
in  the  fact  that  we  have  for  years  been  looking  upon 
allied  species  of  brighter  hue.  The  English  robin, 
however,  is  one  of  the  few  exceptions  to  this  rule. 
He  is  in  all  respects  superior  to  his  Indian  cousins — 
the  Thamnobias.  I  mean  no  offence  to  the  latter, 
for  they  are  charming  little  birds,  nevertheless  they 
must  bow  to  the  superiority  of  their  English  brethren. 
The  Indian  robins  lack  the  red  waistcoat  that  gives 
the  British  bird  his  well-to-do,  homely  appearance. 
It  is  true  that  our  Indian  robins  wear  a  patch  of  red 
feathers  under  the  tail.  But  this,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  they  make  unceasing  efforts  to  display 

6i 


62  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

it,  is  not  adequate  compensation  for  the  lack  of  the 
red  waistcoat.  It  is  not  so  much  what  one  wears 
as  the  way  in  which  one  wears  things  that  matters. 
To  wear  brown  boots  with  light-coloured  clothes  is 
no  offence  against  good  taste,  although  at  one  time 
the  undergraduates  at  Pembroke  College,  Cambridge, 
were  not  allowed  to  wear  brown  boots  in  chapel ; 
but  to  don  this  description  of  footwear  simultaneously 
with  a  frock  coat  is  a  sin  that  is  likely  to  be  visited 
upon  the  children — I  was  about  to  say — unto  the 
fourth  generation,  but  in  this  horrid,  democratic, 
Lloyd-Georgian  age  I  think  it  would  be  more  correct 
to  say  "  unto  the  second  generation."  Nor  is  this 
the  only  point  of  inferiority  of  the  Indian  robin. 
Although  he  is  by  no  means  a  poor  singer,  he  is  not 
nearly  so  brilhant  a  performer  as  his  British  cousin. 

Then  again,  the  Indian  robin  has  not  the  confidential 
manners  of  the  Enghsh  species.  Often  when  I  have 
been  sitting  in  an  English  garden,  has  a  robin  come 
and  perched  on  the  arm  of  my  chair,  an  example 
which  his  Indian  counterpart  has  never  shown  the 
slightest  inchnation  to  follow.  In  England  the  robin 
is  a  semi-domesticated  bird  ;  in  India,  although  a 
pair  often  take  up  their  abode  in  the  compound, 
robins  prefer  to  dwell  "  far  from  the  madding  crowd." 
If  the  truth  must  be  told  the  Indian  species  love  not 
the  shady  garden.  The  cool  orchard  has  no  attractions 
for  them.  They  abhor  the  babbling  brook.  Their 
idea  of  an  earthly  paradise  is  a  brick-kiln,  a  railway 
embankment,  or  a  flat,  rocky,  barren,  arid  piece  of 
land.    Aloes  and  prickly  pear  are  their  favourite  plants. 


THE    INDIAN    ROBIN  63 

But  enough  of  these  odious  comparisons.  Let 
me  now  describe  the  two  Indian  species  of  Thamnobia 
— the  black-backed  robin  (T.  fulicata)  which  has 
possessed  itself  of  South  India  and  the  brown-backed 
species  (T.  camhayensis)  which  is  found  all  over 
Northern  India.  The  cock  of  the  former  species  is  a 
glossy,  jet-black  bird,  with  a  narrow  white  bar  in  his 
wing,  and  the  brick-red  patch  under  his  tail  which 
I  have  already  had  occasion  to  mention.  The  hen 
is  sandy  brown  all  over  save  for  the  aforesaid  patch. 
The  hen  of  the  northern  species  differs  in  no  appre- 
ciable way  from  her  sister  in  the  South  ;  while  the 
cock  of  the  North  varies  only  from  his  southern  brother 
in  having  the  back  brown  instead  of  black.  It  is 
my  belief  that  the  black-backed  species  arose  as  a 
mutation  from  the  brown-backed  form.  The  hen  and 
the  two  cocks  probably  represent  three  stages  in  the 
evolutionary  process. 

I  am  sorry  to  be  under  the  necessity  of  making 
a  statement  which  may  offend  the  ladies,  but  the 
fact  is  that  among  birds  the  cocks  tend  to  be  ahead 
of  the  hens  as  regards  evolutionary  development, 
they  are,  in  a  sense,  superior  beings.  The  tendency 
is  for  all  birds  to  assume  brilliant  plumage,  and  it  is 
fitting  that  this  should  be  so,  for  are  not  birds  the 
most  exquisite  ornaments  of  the  earth  ?  In  some 
species  both  sexes  have  travelled  equally  far  along 
the  evolutionary  path,  and  in  such  instances  the  sexes 
are  alike.  In  other  cases  one  of  the  sexes  is  one  or 
more  stages  ahead  of  the  other,  and  it  is  almost  in- 
variably the  cock  who  leads  and  who  is,  therefore, 


64  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

the  more  beautiful.  It  is  my  belief  that  at  one  time 
both  sexes  of  both  species  of  Indian  robin  were  coloured 
as  the  hens  now  are.  Later,  a  mutation  arose  in  the 
cock  whereby  all  his  plumage  save  the  back  became 
black,  and  when  this  mutation  became  fixed  in  the 
species,  the  cock  had  advanced  a  stage  in  his  evolution- 
ary progress.  A  still  more  advanced  stage  was  reached 
when  the  whole  of  the  plumage  became  black.  Could 
we  peep  a  thousand  years  into  the  future,  it  is  quite 
likely  that  we  should  find  that  the  northern  species  of 
Indian  robin  had  acquired  a  black  back. 

Some  may  think  that  these  statements  are  far- 
fetched. I  submit  that  they  are  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Not  infrequently  it  happens  that  hen  birds  develop 
the  plumage  of  the  male.  Again,  sometimes  of  two 
closely  allied  species  one  displays  marked  sexual 
differences,  while  the  sexes  of  the  other  are  difiicult 
to  distinguish.  Every  one  is  familiar  with  the  showy 
drake  and  the  dull-coloured  hen  of  the  common 
mallard  or  wild  duck  of  Europe  (Anas  hoscas),  and 
we  in  India  are  equally  familiar  with  an  allied  species 
the  spotted  bill  [A.  poecilorhyncha) ,  in  which  both 
sexes  are  dull-coloured  like  the  female  mallard. 
The  cock  mallard  is  a  stage  ahead  of  the  hen  mallard 
and  of  both  sexes  of  the  spotted  bill  as  regards  evo- 
lutionary development.  A  thousand  years  hence 
the  male  spotted-bill  may  have  developed  a  coat 
of  many  colours.  The  foregoing  will  not  be  acceptable 
to  the  old-fashioned  Darwinians,  but  as  these 
cannot  explain  satisfactorily  how  it  is  that  natural 
selection   has   given   cock   robin   in   Northern   India 


THE    INDIAN    ROBIN  65 

a  brown  back,  and  a  black  back  to  his  southern  cousin, 
they  are  not  entitled  to  dictate  to  us.  The  Darwin- 
Wallace  hypothesis  has  been  of  great  service  to  Science 
during  the  past  fifty  years,  but  zoology  has  now  out- 
grown it,  and  sooner  or  later  all  scientific  men  must 
recognise  this  fact.  But  we  have  made  a  long  di- 
gression into  the  arid  field  of  science,  let  us  hie  back 
to  our  Indian  robins. 

Perhaps  their  most  interesting  characteristic  is 
their  fondness  for  queer  nesting  sites.  There  is  nothing 
particularly  remarkable  about  the  nest  itself,  which 
varies  according  to  its  situation,  from  a  mere  pad 
to  a  neat  cup  composed  of  soft  materials,  such  as 
cotton,  grass,  and  vegetable  fibres.  The  nursery  is 
cosily  lined,  frequently  with  feathers.  The  lining 
almost  invariably  contains  some  human  or  horse 
hair,  and  often  fragments  of  snake's  skin.  In  April 
and  May  of  one  year  I  came  upon  the  following  robins' 
nests  at  Lahore  :  No.  i,  in  the  disused  nest  of  a  rat- 
bird  {Argya  caudata)  placed  about  five  feet  above  the 
ground  in  a  thorny  but  dense  bush ;  No.  2,  on  the 
outer  sill  of  a  window,  which  was  guarded  by  trellis- 
work,  the  meshes  of  which  were  so  fine  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  insert  two  fingers  into  the 
nest ;  No.  3,  in  a  hole  in  the  mud  wall  of  a  deserted 
hut ;  No.  4,  among  the  roots  of  a  sago  palm  tree  ; 
No.  5,  in  a  very  dilapidated  disused  rat-bird's  nest  ; 
No.  6,  in  a  hole  in  a  railway  embankment ;  No.  7, 
in  a  hole  barely  a  foot  from  the  ground  in  the 
trunk  of  a  tree — in  the  same  hole  was  a  wasps'  nest  ; 
No.  8,  in  one  of  the  spaces  between  bricks  that  had 


66  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

been  stacked  in  order  to  become  dried  by  the 
sun. 

The  above  form  a  varied  assortment  of  sites  ;  but 
there  is  nothing  very  remarkable  in  any  of  them. 
Colonel  Marshall  records  a  nest  built  in  the  hole  in 
a  wall  intended  for  the  passage  of  a  punkah  rope. 

At  Fategarh,  some  years  ago,  a  pair  of  robins 
built  inside  an  old  watering  pot  that  had  been  thrown 
into  a  bush.  Another  pair  went  "  one  better  "  by 
nesting  in  the  loop  of  an  old  piece  of  cloth  that  had 
been  thrown  over  the  branch  of  a  tree. 

Mr.  J.  T.  Fry  records  in  The  Countryside  Monthly 
a  nest  built  at  Jhansi  in  a  long-haired  brush  used  for 
taking  down  cobwebs.  "  The  nest,"  he  writes,  "  is 
constructed  of  the  fine  roots  of  the  khus-khus  lined 
with  hair  into  which  onion  peel  and  scraps  of  cast- 
off  snake's  skin  have  been  incorporated.  The  brush, 
when  out  of  use,  was  placed  against  the  wall  at  the 
side  of  the  bungalow,  being  fixed  to  the  end  of  a 
long  bamboo.  It  was  only  in  use  about  a  fortnight 
before  the  nest  was  discovered." 

The  above  were  all  nests  of  the  brown-backed  robin, 
but  the  black-backed  species  selects  equally  curious 
nesting  sites.  As  examples  of  these  mention  may 
be  made  of  holes  in  railway  cuttings  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  line,  holes  in  walls,  the  side  of  a  haystack, 
a  hole  in  a  gatepost.  Dr.  Blanford  found  the  nest 
of  this  species  inside  the  bamboo  of  a  dhooly  in  the 
verandah  of  Captain  Glasfurd's  house  at  Sironcha. 
Mr.  J.  Macpherson  records  a  nest  in  an  elephant's 
skull  lying  out  in  his  compound  at  Mysore. 


THE   INDIAN    ROBIN  6y 

Both  sexes  take  part  in  nest  construction.  At  the 
mating  season  cock  robins  are  very  bold  and  pug- 
nacious, but  these  characteristics  do  not  always 
save  the  nest  from  destruction,  as  the  following  in- 
cident will  show. 

In  May,  191 2,  a  pair  of  brown-backed  robins  elected 
to  nest  in  the  verandah  of  my  bungalow  at  Fyzabad. 
The  roof  of  the  verandah  is  supported  by  longitudinal 
beams  which  rest  on  a  series  of  cross-beams  that 
project  from  the  main  wall  of  the  house  and  lean 
at  their  far  end  on  the  verandah  pillars.  The  upper 
surface  of  the  cross-beams  affords  admirable  nesting 
sites  of  which  the  doves  and  mynas  take  full  advantage. 
The  robins  in  question  built  their  nest  on  one  of  these 
cross-beams.  No  sooner  had  the  nursery  been  com- 
pleted than  trouble  began.  The  first  intimation 
I  received  of  the  existence  of  the  nest  was  much 
swearing  (if  I  may  use  that  expression  to  denote  the 
angry  cries  of  a  little  bird)  on  the  part  of  cock  robin, 
The  temperature  on  that  day  was  well  over  100°  F. 
in  the  shade,  consequently  I  did  not  open  the  doors 
of  the  house  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  robin's 
wrath.  But  the  angry  cries  of  the  bird  persisted, 
and  I  heard  them  repeatedly  on  the  following  day, 
so  I  braved  the  heat  and  went  into  the  verandah  to 
prospect  and  discovered  that  a  myna  was  the  object 
of  the  robin's  wrath. 

During  the  following  day  the  language  of  the  robin 
abated  neither  in  quantity  nor  quality  ;  indeed,  his 
noise  began  to  get  on  my  nerves.  He  used  to  perch 
when  giving  vent  to  his  feelings,  just  above  the  heads 


68  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

of  the  chaprassis  who  sat  in  the  verandah  awaiting 
orders.  These  men  are  not  usually  very  observant, 
but  even  they  noticed  and  grew  annoyed  at  the  robin's 
noise,  and  on  several  occasions  I  heard  them  flicking 
at  the  robin  with  a  duster.  During  the  early  part  of 
the  fourth  day  there  was  comparative  quiet  in  the 
verandah,  and  I  thought  that  the  robins  and  mynas 
had  settled  their  differences.  I  was  mistaken.  The 
quiet  proved  to  be  the  lull  before  the  storm.  This 
burst  about  4  p.m.  The  uproar  brought  me  to  the 
window ;  from  there  I  saw  that  the  robin  was  hissing 
with  rage  at  a  myna  who  was  peeping  into  the  robin's 
nest.  Then  the  cock  robin  flew  at  the  myna  and 
pecked  at  him.  The  myna,  although  three  times 
the  size  of  the  robin,  fled  and  flew  from  the  verandah, 
followed  by  the  swearing  robin.  A  couple  of  minutes 
later  cock  robin  returned  alone.  He  then  perched 
on  the  floor  of  the  verandah,  drew  himself  up  to  his 
full  height,  like  the  heroine  in  a  penny  novelette 
(who,  by  the  way,  appears  always  to  slouch  except 
when  she  is  very  angry),  and  stood  there  hissing  with 
rage.  This  continued  until  a  chaprassi,  who  was 
squatting  in  the  verandah,  drove  the  angry  bird  away. 
The  next  morning  I  found  lying  on  the  floor  of  the 
verandah  the  wreck  of  the  robins'  nest,  and  noticed 
that  a  myna  was  constructing  a  nest  on  the  site  re- 
cently occupied  by  that  of  the  robin. 


XII 

THE    SHIKRA 

FALCONERS  divide  hawks  into  the  long- 
winged  and  the  short-winged  varieties.  The 
former  stand  in  much  the  same  relation  to 
the  latter  as  the  cross-country  runner  does  to 
the  sprinter.  The  long-winged  hawks  have  dark  eyes, 
while  in  the  short-winged  ones  the  eyes  are  yellow  or 
orange  ;  hence  the  two  classes  are  sometimes  dis- 
tinguished as  dark-eyed  and  hght-eyed  hawks.  The 
various  falcons,  the  peregrine,  the  laggar,  the  saker, 
etc.,  come  in  the  long- winged  category.  When  they 
catch  sight  of  their  quarry,  they  give  chase  and  follow 
it,  if  necessary  for  a  long  distance,  till  they  either  lose 
it  or  are  able  to  get  above  it  in  order  to  strike.  The 
short-winged  hawk  is  content  with  making  one  pounce 
or  dash  at  its  quarry  ;  if  it  secures  it,  well  and  good,  if 
it  fails,  it  does  not  give  chase.  The  sparrow-hawk 
and  the  shikra  are  familiar  examples  of  the  short- 
winged  hawks. 

The  long-winged  falcons  are  naturally  held  in  greatest 
favour  by  the  hawker ;  but  short-winged  birds  of 
prey  are  also  trained.  Long-winged  hawks  hunt  in  the 
open.    Being  long-distance  fliers,  they  rely  chiefly  upon 

69 


JO  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

their  power  of  endurance,  and  so  naturally  like  plenty 
of  room  in  which  to  operate.  Short-winged  hawks, 
on  the  other  hand,  usually  hunt  in  wooded  localities, 
where  they  are  better  able  to  surprise  their  victims 
than  in  the  open. 

After  the  kite,  the  shikra  {Astur  hadius)  is  the 
commonest  bird  of  prey  in  India.  It  is  in  habits  and 
appearance  very  like  the  common  sparrow-hawk 
(Accipiter  nisus).  So  great  is  the  resemblance  between 
the  two  species  that  "  Eha,"  in  his  Common  Birds 
of  Bombay,  gives  an  excellent  description  of  the 
shikra  under  the  title  of  the  Indian  sparrow-hawk. 

Although  the  two  little  hawks  are  so  similar  in  ap- 
pearance, ornithologists  place  them  in  different  genera 
on  account  of  the  considerably  longer  legs  of  the 
sparrow-hawk  proper  and  its  heavily  spotted  and 
blotched  eggs,  the  eggs  of  the  shikra  being  white  and 
almost  entirely  free  from  spots. 

The  shikra  is  a  slightly-built  bird  about  the  same 
length  as  a  pigeon  ;  its  tail  is  half  a  foot  long.  The 
upper  plumage  is  greyish.  The  wings  and  tail  are 
heavily  barred  with  black.  The  breast  is  white,  with 
large  brown  spots  in  young  birds  ;  in  old  birds  the 
brown  spots  are  replaced  by  a  number  of  thin  wavy, 
rust-coloured  cross-bars.  The  female,  as  is  invariably 
the  case  in  birds  of  prey,  is  considerably  larger  than 
the  male,  she  being  fourteen  inches  in  length  as  against 
his  twelve  and  a  half.  But  it  is  quite  useless  to  attempt 
to  recognise  a  shikra,  or  indeed  any  other  bird  of  prey, 
from  a  description  of  its  plumage.  As  *'  Eha  "  says  : 
"  To  try  to  make  out  hawks  by  their  colour  is  at  the 


THE   SHIKRA  71 

best  a  short  road  to  despair.  Naturalists  learn  to 
recognise  them  as  David's  watchman  recognised  the 
courier  who  brought  tidings  of  the  victory  over 
Absalom  :  '  His  running  is  like  the  running  of  Ahi- 
maaz  the  son  of  Zadok.'  Every  bird  of  prey  has  its 
own  character,  some  trick  of  flight,  some  peculiarity  of 
attitude  when  at  rest,  something  in  its  figure  and 
proportions  which  serves  to  distinguish  it  decisively. 
The  sparrow-hawk  (shikra)  flies  with  a  few  rapid  strokes 
of  the  wings  and  then  a  gliding  motion,  and  this, 
together  with  its  short,  rounded  wings  and  long  tail, 
distinguishes  it  from  any  other  common  bird  of  prey. 
I  learn  of  its  presence  oftener  by  the  ear  than  the  eye. 
Its  sharp,  impatient  double  cry  arrests  attention  among 
all  other  bird- voices." 

The  shikra  has  comparatively  feeble  claws,  and  so  is 
unable  to  tackle  any  large  quarry.  Birds  of  prey 
strike  with  the  claw,  not  with  the  beak,  as  some 
artists  would  have  us  believe  ;  hence  the  size  of  the 
claws  of  any  particular  bird  of  prey  affords  a  safe 
index  of  the  magnitude  of  its  quarry.  The  more 
formidable  the  claw,  the  larger  the  prey.  No  matter 
how  large  a  raptorial  bird  be,  if  its  claws  are 
small  and  feeble,  it  feeds  either  upon  carrion  or  tiny 
creatures. 

The  shikra  is  said  to  live  chiefly  upon  lizards  ;  but  it 
makes  no  bones  about  taking  a  sparrow  or  other  small 
bird,  a  mouse,  or  even  a  rat.  In  default  of  larger 
game  it  does  not  despise  grasshoppers,  and,  when  the 
termites  swarm,  it  will  make  merry  among  these  along 
with  the  crows  and  kites.    I  once  saw  a  shikra  pounce 


72  GLIMPSES    OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

upon  a  little  striped  squirrel.  Some  crows  were 
witnesses  of  the  feat,  and  at  once  proceeded  to  attack 
the  shikra  so  vehemently  that  it  let  go  of  the  squirrel, 
which  made  good  its  escape.  The  crows,  let  me  add, 
were  not  actuated  by  philanthropic  motives.  Their 
object  was,  not  to  liberate  the  squirrel  but  to  make  a 
meal  of  it.  They  were  quite  as  disappointed  as  the 
shikra  when  the  little  rodent  regained  its  liberty. 

Natives  of  India  frequently  hawk  with  the  shikra, 
setting  it  on  to  partridges,  quails,  and  mynas.  It  is 
very  easily  and  quickly  trained.  Within  a  week  or 
ten  days  of  capture  its  education  is  complete.  How- 
ever, hawking  with  a  shikra  is,  in  my  opinion,  very 
poor  sport,  for  the  shikra  makes  but  one  dash  at  its 
quarry,  and  at  once  desists  if  it  fails  to  secure  it. 
The  hawker  holds  it  in  his  hand  and  throws  it  like  a 
javelin  in  the  direction  of  its  quarry.  While  waiting  for 
its  victim  it  is  carried  on  the  hand  in  the  same  way  as  a 
merlin  is,  but  is  never  hooded.  It  is  only  the  dark- 
eyed  hawks  that  have  to  be  hooded  ;  they  seem  to  be 
much  more  excitable  than  the  light-eyed  ones.  A 
trained  shikra  is  very  tame  and  does  not  show  any 
objection  to  being  handled. 

The  shikra  nests  from  April  to  June,  building,  high 
up  in  a  lofty  tree,  a  nest  which  can  scarcely  be  de- 
scribed as  a  triumph  of  avine  architecture.  Hume  says  : 
"  These  little  hawks  take,  I  should  say,  a  full  month  in 
preparing  their  nest,  only  putting  on  two  or  three 
twigs  a  day,  which  they  place  and  replace,  as  if  they 
were  very  particular  and  had  a  great  eye  for  a  hand- 
some nest ;    whereas,  after  all  their  fuss  and  bother. 


THE   SHIKRA  73 

the  nest  is  a  loose,  ragged-looking  affair,  that  no 
respectable  crow  would  condescend  to  lay  in."  Three 
bluish- white  eggs  are  deposited  in  the  nest.  Shikra 
nestlings  show  fight  when  interfered  with  and  peck 
savagely  at  the  intruder. 


I 


XIII 
A    FINCH    OF    ROSEATE    HUE 

THE  FringillidcB,  or  finches,  constitute  the 
most  successful  family  of  birds  in  the  world. 
The  crow  tribe  runs  the  finches  close,  but 
the  Corvi  are  handicapped  by  their  large 
size.  Were  the  sparrow  as  big  as  the  crow,  man  would 
never  have  allowed  him  to  become  the  pest  that  he 
is.  The  impudent  pigmy  is  tolerated  because  he  is  so 
small  and  insignificant. 

Finches  are  birds  of  coarse  build,  and  are  character- 
ised by  a  vulgar-looking  beak,  so  that  they  need  either 
fine  feathers  or  a  sweet  voice  to  render  them  acceptable 
to  man.  Those  finches  which,  like  the  common 
sparrow,  lack  either  of  these  attributes  are  accounted 
mean  birds  of  low  estate.  But,  on  the  whole,  Dame 
Nature  has  been  kind  to  the  finches  in  that  she  has 
arrayed  the  cocks  of  many  species  in  bright  colours. 
The  showy  goldfinch  is  a  famihar  instance  of  this, 
as  is  the  canary,  but  the  yellow  colour  of  the  latter 
has  been  induced  largely  by  artificial  selection.  The 
wild  canary  is  not  a  very  beautiful  bird. 

Among  the  finches  all  shades  of  red  and  yellow  are 
to  be  found.     Brown  and  green  are  worn  by  some 

74 


A  FINCH    OF  ROSEATE    HUE  75 

species.    Blue  seems  to  be  the  only  colour  not  vouch- 
safed to  the  FringillidcB. 

Several  of  the  finches  have  the  gift  of  song.  This 
being  so,  it  is  regrettable  that  the  particular  species 
of  finch  which,  like  the  poor,  is  always  with  us  should 
have  such  an  execrable  voice.  If  sparrows  sang  like 
canaries  what  a  pleasing  adjunct  to  London  they  would 
be! 

The  gross,  massive  beak  of  the  finch,  though  not  good 
to  look  upon,  is  of  great  value  as  a  seed-husking 
machine.  No  one  can  have  watched  a  canary  for  five 
minutes  without  observing  the  address  with  which 
each  little  seed  is  picked  up,  cracked,  and  the  husk 
rejected  by  the  joint  action  of  tongue  and  mandibles. 

Sixty-four  species  of  finch  occur  within  the  limits 
of  the  Indian  Empire.  Of  these  fifteen  species  are 
known  as  rose-finches.  Rose-finches  are  birds  of 
about  the  size  of  a  sparrow.  The  plumage  of  the 
cocks  is  more  or  less  suffused  with  crimson,  while  that 
of  the  hens  is  dark  greyish  olive  sometimes  washed 
with  yellow.  Rose -finches  are  essentially  birds  of  a 
cold  climate  ;  they  are  found  in  Northern  Europe, 
Asia,  and  America.  All  the  Indian  species,  save  one, 
are  confined  to  the  Himalayas  and  the  country  north 
of  those  mountains.  The  one  exception  is  the  species 
known  as  the  common  rose-finch  (Carpodacus  ery- 
thrinus).  This  spreads  itself  during  the  winter  all  over 
the  plains  of  India  as  far  south  as  the  Nilgiris.  I  do 
not  remember  having  seen  it  in  or  about  Madras, 
but  it  may  sometimes  visit  that  city.  In  April  this 
rose-finch   goes   north   to    breed,    a   few   individuals 


76  GLIMPSES    OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

remaining  in  the  Himalayas,  where  they  nidificate  at 
altitudes  of  10,000  feet  and  upwards. 

The  nest  is  a  neat  cup-shaped  structure  made  of 
grass  with  a  lining  of  fine  material.  It  is  usually  built 
within  a  yard  of  the  ground,  in  a  bush,  or  even  among 
long  grass.  The  eggs  are  blue  with  chocolate  or  purple 
markings,  which  may  be  sparse  or  numerous,  and  may 
take  the  form  of  blotches,  freckles,  or  pencillings. 

The  cock  rose-finch,  or  Tuti,  as  he  is  always  called 
by  the  natives  of  India,  is  a  handsome  bird.  The  head 
and  neck  are  dull  crimson,  the  lower  parts  are  rosy  pink 
and  the  wings  are  brown.  The  rose-finches  seen  in  the 
early  part  of  the  winter  are  considerably  less  brightly 
coloured  than  those  observed  after  Christmas.  This 
phenomenon  is  due  to  two  causes.  The  one  is  that  the 
bird  moults  in  September  or  October  and  dons  a  new 
suit  of  clothes.  These  are  of  such  excellent  material 
that  they  improve  by  wearing  !  As  is  so  often  the 
case,  the  margins  of  the  new  feathers  are  duller  than 
the  inner  portion.  A  bird's  feathers  overlap  like  the 
tiles  on  a  roof,  and  they  overlap  to  such  an  extent  that 
only  the  margin  of  each  feather  shows.  As  the  dull 
edges  wear  away,  the  brighter  parts  begin  to  show, 
hence  the  gradual  transition  from  dullness  to  bright- 
ness. Further,  the  actual  colouring  of  the  feathers 
becomes  intensified  as  the  spring  season  approaches. 
But  in  the  plains  of  India  the  cock  is  never  seen  in 
the  full  glory  of  his  crimson  tunic,  because  he  departs 
to  high  altitudes  at  the  breeding  season. 

The  hen  rose-finch  is  an  olive-brown  bird  with  a 
tinge  of  yellow  and  some  brown  streaks  in  her  plumage. 


A  FINCH   OF  ROSEATE    HUE  yy 

The  wing  is  set  off  by  a  couple  of  whitish  wing-bars. 
There  are  also  bars  in  the  wing  of  the  cock,  but  these 
are  not  well  defined. 

Seeing  how  beautiful  the  cock  rose-finch  is  naturally, 
and  how  successful  have  been  the  efforts  to  improve 
the  canary,  it  may  seem  strange  that  fanciers  have  not 
turned  their  attention  to  the  rose-finch,  and  produced, 
by  artificial  selection,  a  rose-finch  arrayed  from  head 
to  tail  in  crimson  lake. 

The  fact  is  all  the  crimson  colour  disappears  from  the 
plumage  of  a  rose-finch  kept  in  captivity.  Until  some 
means  of  preventing  this  is  discovered  it  is  hopeless 
to  attempt  to  breed  a  crimson  finch. 

Rose-finches  live  in  flocks,  which  consist  usually  of 
from  sixteen  to  thirty  members.  These  flocks  appear 
to  be  made  up  of  cocks  and  hens  in  equal  numbers. 
The  birds  feed  on  the  ground,  from  which  they  pick 
small  seeds  that  have  fallen.  "  In  the  extreme  south," 
writes  Jerdon  of  the  rose-finch,  "  I  have  chiefly  seen 
it  in  bamboo  jungle,  feeding  on  the  seeds  of  bamboos 
on  several  occasions,  and  so  much  is  this  its  habit  that 
the  Telugu  name  signifies  '  Bamboo  sparrow.'  "  In 
other  parts  of  the  country  it  frequents  alike  groves, 
gardens,  and  jungles,  feeding  on  various  seeds  and 
grain  ;  also  not  infrequently  on  flower  buds  and  young 
leaves.  Adams  states  that  in  Kashmir  it  feeds  much 
on  the  seeds  of  a  cultivated  vetch. 

During  the  greater  part  of  the  year  the  rose-finch  is 
a  silent  bird.  At  the  breeding  season,  and  a  little 
before  it,  the  cock  joins  in  the  bird  chorus.  Its  vocal 
efforts  are  well  described  by  Blyth  as  "  a  feeble  twit- 


^Z  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

tering  song,  but  soft  and  pleasing,  being  intermediate 
to  that  of  the  goldfinch,  and  that  of  the  small  redpole 
linnet,  the  call  note  much  resembling  that  of  a  canary 
bird." 

Rose-finches  are  said  to  be  very  pugnacious,  and  in 
this  respect  they  resemble  their  vulgar  relations  the 
sparrows,  but  they  difer  from  the  latter  in  lacking 
their  fearlessness  of  man  or  beast.  At  the  least  alarm 
a  flock  of  rose-finches  feeding  on  the  ground  scurries 
into  the  nearest  tree  with  a  loud  fluttering  of  wings. 
The  harsh  cry  of  the  king-crow  or  the  shadow  of  a 
passing  kite  is  quite  sufficient  to  cause  the  instant 
disappearance  of  the  little  flock  into  the  foHage. 

On  an  average,  a  feeding  flock  thus  takes  alarm  at 
least  twenty  times  in  the  course  of  an  hour.  Sometimes 
the  birds  take  fright  for  no  apparent  reason  whatever. 
Their  behaviour  in  this  respect  is  exactly  like  that  of 
chaffinches,  greenfinches,  etc.,  in  England,  which 
Edmund  Selous  describes  so  accurately  in  that  perfect 
nature  book  Bird  Watching.  Selous  "  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  cause  of  flight  was  almost 
always  a  nervous  apprehension,  such  as  actuates 
schoolboys  when  they  are  doing  something  of  a  for- 
bidden nature  and  half  expect  to  see  the  master  appear 
at  any  moment  round  the  corner.  Though  there  might 
be  no  discernible  ground  for  apprehension,  yet  after 
some  three  or  four  minutes  it  seemed  to  strike  the 
assembly  that  it  could,  not  be  quite  safe  to  remain  any 
longer,  and,  presto  !   they  were  gone." 

It  is  my  behef  that  what  may  be  called  the  undue 
nervousness  of  little  birds  has  been  caused  by  the  attacks 


A  FINCH   OF  ROSEATE    HUE  79 

of  birds  of  prey.  It  must  as  a  rule  be  the  bolder  spirits 
— those  that  refuse  to  take  refuge  in  the  foliage  at 
every  alarm — that  fall  victims  to  the  sparrow-hawk. 
The  more  nervous  ones  escape  and  transmit  their 
innate  nervousness  to  their  offspring.  There  has  thus 
arisen  a  race  of  little  birds  as  nervous  as  horses. 

Before  a  minute  has  passed  the  rose-finches,  who 
have  taken  refuge  in  a  tree,  perceive  that  there  was  no 
ground  for  alarm.  They  then  drop  to  the  ground  in 
twos  and  threes,  so  that,  although  the  birds  begin  to 
return  almost  as  soon  as  they  have  fled  into  the 
foliage,  some  little  time  elapses  before  the  whole  of 
the  flock  is  again  seeking  food  on  the  ground.  The  re- 
formation of  a  flock  is  a  pretty  sight— a  shower  of 
little  birds  falling  from  a  tree  like  leaves  in  autumn. 


XIV 
BIRDS   ON  THE   LAWN 

IN  some  parts  of  India  the  hot -weather  nights 
are  sufficiently  cool  to  allow  the  European 
inhabitants  to  dispense  with  punkas  and  to 
enjoy  refreshing  sleep  in  the  open  beneath 
the  starlit  sky.  He  who  spends  the  night  under 
such  conditions  sees  and  hears  much  of  the  birds. 
Not  an  hour  passes  in  which  the  stillness  of  the  dark- 
ness is  not  broken  by  the  voice  of  some  owl  or  cuckoo. 
Most  of  our  Indian  cuckoos  are  as  nocturnal  as  owls. 
The  brain  -  fever  bird  [Hierococcyx  varius) — most 
vociferous  of  the  cuculine  tribe — seems  to  require 
no  sleep. 

The  human  sleeper,  no  matter  how  early  he  wakes 
in  the  morning,  finds  that  some  of  the  feathered 
folk  have  already  begun  the  day.  Every  diurnal 
bird  is  up  and  about  long  before  the  rising  of  the  sun. 
In  the  daylight  the  gauze  curtains  which  kept  the 
mosquitoes  at  bay  during  the  night,  form  a  most 
convenient  cache  from  which  to  observe  the  doings 
of  the  birds.  Birds  do  not  see  through  the  meshes 
of  the  mosquito  nets.  Eyesight  is  largely  a  matter 
of  training.    This  explains  why  the  vision  of  birds  is 

80 


BIRDS   ON   THE   LAWN  8i 

so  keen  in  some  respects  and  so  defective  in  others. 
A  bird  of  prey  while  floating  in  the  air  does  not  fail 
to  notice  a  small  animal  on  the  ground  3000  feet 
below.  Nevertheless,  that  same  bird  will  allow  itself 
to  become  entangled  in  a  coarse  net  stretched  out 
in  front  of  a  tethered  bird.  I  once  asked  a  falconer 
how  he  would  explain  such  inconsistencies  in  the 
behaviour  of  raptorial  birds.  He  replied  that  in  his 
opinion  the  bird  of  prey  sees  the  net  but  fails  to 
appreciate  its  nature,  that  the  falcon  looks  upon 
the  net  spread  before  its  quarry  as  a  spider's  web, 
as  a  gossamer  structure  that  can  be  contemptuously 
swept  aside.  I  think  that  the  falconer's  explanation 
is  not  the  correct  one.  I  believe  that  the  bird  of  prey 
really  does  not  see  the  net.  It  has  eyes  only  for  its 
quarry.  It  is  not  trained  to  look  out  for  snares, 
having  no  experience  of  them  under  natural  con- 
ditions. A  bird  that  had  several  times  been  snared 
while  stooping  at  its  prey  would  learn  the  nature  of 
a  net  and  avoid  it. 

Similarly,  birds,  being  unaccustomed  to  see  living 
creatures  emerge  from  apparently  solid  structures, 
do  not  look  for  human  beings  inside  mosquito  nets, 
and  so  fail  to  observe  them.  The  consequence  is 
that  the  birds  hop  and  strut  about  the  lawn  within  a 
few  feet  of  my  bed,  or  even  perch  on  the  mosquito 
curtain  frame,  utterly  unconscious  of  my  presence. 

There  is  to  me  something  very  fascinating  in  thus 
watching  at  close  quarters  the  ways  of  my  feathered 
friends.  My  compound  boasts  of  a  lawn,  sufficiently 
large  for  three  tennis  courts,  which  owing  to  much 

G 


82  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

watering,  mowing,  and  rolling  is  green  and  velvet- 
like. This  lawn  is  a  popular  resort  for  many  birds 
of  the  vicinity. 

In  England  blackbirds,  thrushes,  robins,  starlings, 
and  sparrows  are  the  birds  which  frequent  lawns. 
Of  these  the  sparrows  are  the  only  ones  found  in 
our  Indian  gardens.  Sparrows  are  very  partial  to 
my  lawn.  Throughout  the  day  numxbers  of  them 
hop  about  on  the  turf,  looking  for  objects  so  small 
that  I  have  not  been  able  to  make  out  what  they 
are.  The  fact  that  sparrows  are  greatly  addicted  to  a 
lawn  that  is  watered  and  mown  twice  a  week  serves 
to  show  that  Passer  domesticus  is  not  so  black  as  he 
is  painted  by  his  detractors.  The  sparrows  cannot 
come  to  my  lawn  for  any  purpose  other  than  that  of 
looking  for  insects. 

The  first  birds  to  visit  the  lawn  every  morning  are 
a  pair  of  coucals,  or  crow-pheasants  (Cenfropus  sinensis) . 
They  appear  on  the  scene  with  great  punctuality 
about  an  hour  before  sunrise.  The  crow-pheasant 
is  one  of  the  most  familiar  of  Indian  birds.  It  is 
neither  a  crow  nor  a  pheasant,  nevertheless  there  is 
much  to  be  said  in  favour  of  its  popular  name,  because 
the  bird  has  altogether  the  appearance  of  a  crow  that 
has  exchanged  wings  and  tail  with  a  pheasant.  It 
is  black  all  over  save  for  its  ruby-coloured  eye  and 
chestnut-hued  wings.  It  belongs  to  the  cuckoo 
family,  but,  unlike  the  majority  of  its  brethren, 
builds  a  nest  and  incubates  its  eggs.  It  is  charac- 
terised by  an  elongated  hind  toe,  which  he  who  lies 
behind  the  mosquito  net  may  observe  as  its  possessor 


BIRDS   ON    THE   LAWN  83 

struts  by.  There  is  something  very  pompous  about 
the  strut  of  the  crow-pheasant.  Were  it  an  inhabitant 
of  Whitechapel,  its  friends  would  undoubtedly  enquire 
whether  it  was  a  fact  that  it  had  purchased  the  street  ! 
But  the  sight  of  an  insect  on  the  lawn  causes  the  coucal 
to  throw  dignity  to  the  winds.  Its  sedate  walk  be- 
comes transformed  into  a  bustling  waddle  as  it  gives 
chase  to  the  insect  with  a  gait  like  that  of  a  stout, 
nervous  lady  hurrying  across  a  road  thronged  with 
traffic.  Crow-pheasants  feed  largely  on  insects, 
and  it  is  in  search  of  these  that  they  frequent  the 
lawn.  Their  food,  however,  is  not  confined  to  such 
small  fry  ;  they  are  very  partial  to  snakes,  and  so  are 
useful  birds  to  have  in  the  garden. 

Hoopoes  {Upupa  indica)  are  constant  visitors  to 
my  lawn.  They  revel  in  soft  ground.  The  com- 
paratively hard  probe-like  bill  of  the  hoopoe  enables 
the  bird  to  extract  insects  from  ground  on  which  the 
soft-billed  snipe  could  make  no  impression.  But 
hoopoes  prefer  soft  ground  ;  from  it  they  can  obtain 
food  with  but  little  effort.  Unfortunately  for  them, 
velvety  lawns  are  not  common  in  India  ;  hence  the 
birds  flock  to  those  that  exist  as  eagerly  as  Europeans 
rush  to  the  Himalayas  in  June.  A  few  mornings 
ago  I  counted  twenty-seven  hoopoes  feeding  on  my 
lawn.  Occasionally  a  hoopoe  perches  on  one  of  the 
bars  from  which  my  mosquito  curtains  hang,  and 
thus  unconsciously  exposes  himself  to  close  scrutiny 
on  my  part.  There  are  few  birds  so  delightful  to  watch 
as  hoopoes.  Their  form  is  unique.  Their  colouring 
is  striking  and  pleasing.     Then  they  are  such  fussy 


84  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

little  creatures.  When  feeding  they  behave  as  if 
they  were  in  a  violent  hurry.  The  modus  operandi 
is  a  hasty  tap  of  the  bill  here  and  another  there,  and 
if  these  reveal  nothing  promising,  a  few  hurried  steps, 
then  more  probing.  The  majority  of  these  tappings 
and  probings  reveal  nothing,  but  every  now  and  then 
a  spot  is  discovered  beneath  which  an  ant-lion,  earth- 
worm, or  other  creature  lies  buried.  Then  the  fun 
waxes  fast  and  furious  ;  the  hoopoe  begins  to  excavate 
in  real  earnest,  and  plies  its  bill  as  eagerly  as  a  terrier 
scratches  away  the  loose  earth  that  conceals  its  re- 
treating quarry.  After  a  few  seconds  this  strenuous 
probing  and  digging  usually  results  in  some  creature 
being  dragged  out  of  the  earth.  This  is  swallowed  by 
the  hoopoe  after  a  little  manipulation  rendered 
necessary  by  the  length  of  the  bird's  bill.  Having 
disposed  of  its  quarry  the  insatiable  hoopoe  passes 
on,  without  a  pause,  to  seek  for  further  victims. 
With  twenty  or  thirty  hoopoes  thus  at  work,  day 
after  day,  it  is  strange  that  the  insect  store  of  my  lawn 
does  not  become  exhausted. 

While  the  hoopoe  is  feeding,  its  fan-like  crest  remains 
tightly  closed.  This  attitude  of  the  crest  denotes 
business.  The  corona  of  the  hoopoe  is  as  mobile  as 
are  the  ears  of  a  horse.  There  is  more  expression  in 
it  than  in  the  face  of  many  a  man  or  woman. 

Mynas  are,  of  course,  always  to  be  found  on  the 
lawn,  but  as  these  birds  feed  largely  on  grasshoppers, 
they  seek  their  food  by  preference  amid  grass  which 
is  drier  and  longer  than  that  of  my  lawn. 

At  the  time  when  the  grass  is  irrigated  numbers 


BIRDS   ON    THE   LAWN  85 

of  pied  mynas  (Sturnopastor  contra)  and  paddy-birds 
(Ardeola  grayii)  visit  the  lawn.  The  former  strut 
about,  and  the  latter  stand  near  the  place  where 
the  water  trickles  from  the  pipe.  Both  come  in  quest 
of  creatures  driven  from  their  underground  homes  by 
the  water. 

Occasionally  two  or  three  crows  visit  the  lawn  ; 
these  come  to  gratify  their  curiosity  rather  than  for 
food.  Crows  are  inquisitive  creatures,  and  cannot 
resist  visiting  any  spot  where  they  see  other  birds 
enjoying  themselves.  Wagtails  are  birds  which  are 
very  partial  to  lawns,  but  all  the  Indian  species, 
with  one  exception,  leave  India  in  April  or  May, 
so  that  their  graceful  forms  do  not  delight  the  eye  in 
the  hot  weather. 


XV 
THE   GREY   HORNBILL 

HORNBILLS,  like  the  Jews,  are  a  peculiar 
race.  There  are  no  other  birds  like 
unto  them.  They  are  fowls  of  extrava- 
gant form.  Their  bodies  are  studies 
in  disproportion.  The  beak  and  tail  of  each  species 
would  fit  admirably  a  bird  twice  as  big  as  their  actual 
possessor,  while  birds  less  than  half  their  size  might 
well  look  askance  at  the  wings  with  which  hornbills 
are  blessed.  With  the  solitary  exception  of  the  "  cake 
walk  "  of  the  adjutant  [Leptoptilus  dubius),  I  know  of 
no  sight  in  Nature  more  absurd  than  the  flight  of 
the  hornbill.  By  dint  of  a  series  of  vigorous  flaps 
of  its  disproportionately  short  wings  the  bird  manages 
to  propel  itself  through  the  air.  But  the  efforts  put 
forth  are  too  strenuous  to  be  maintained  for  many 
seconds  at  a  time.  When  it  has  managed  to  acquire 
a  little  impetus,  the  great  bird  gives  its  pinions  a 
rest,  and  sails  at  a  snail's  pace  for  a  few  seconds, 
after  which,  in  order  to  save  itself  from  falling,  it 
violently  flaps  its  wings  again,  and  thus  manages 
to  win  its  way  laboriously  from  one  grove  to  another, 
in  much  the  same  way  as  the  primitive  flying  reptiles 

86 


THE    GREY    HORNBILL  ^7 

must  have  done.  Nor  is  the  excitement  over  when  it 
reaches  its  destination.  Owing  to  the  weight  of  the 
beak,  the  hornbill  is  in  danger  of  topphng  over, 
head  foremost,  as  it  ahghts  on  a  branch,  and  assuredly 
would  sometimes  do  so  but  for  the  long  tail  which 
serves  to  balance  the  great  beak.  So  vigorously  does 
the  hornbill  have  to  flap  its  wings  during  flight  that 
the  sound  of  the  air  rushing  through  them  can  be 
heard  for  nearly  half  a  mile  in  the  case  of  the  largest 
species. 

All  hornbills  are  grotesque.  The  grey  species  is, 
however,  the  least  grotesque,  and  approaches  the 
most  nearly  to  the  appearance  of  normal  birds.  Three 
species  of  grey  hornbill  occur  in  India.  The  common 
grey  hornbill  [Lophoceros  biro  sir  is)  is  characterised 
by  the  possession  of  what  is  known  as  a  casque — 
an  appendage  which  the  other  two  species  of  grey 
hornbill  lack.  This  is  a  horny  excrescence  from  the 
upper  surface  of  the  beak.  In  some  species  the  casque 
is  so  large  as  to  extend  over  the  greater  part  of  the 
head  and  beak.  No  one  has  yet  discovered  its 
use.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  it  has  no  use. 
The  Malabar  and  Ceylonese  grey  hornbills,  whose 
habits  are  identical  with  those  of  the  common  grey 
hornbill,  thrive  very  well,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
they  have  no  casque. 

Lophoceros  hirostris  is  a  bird  nearly  two  feet  in 
length.  The  prevailing  hue  of  the  plumage  is  greyish 
brown.  The  bill,  which  is  four  inches  long,  and  the 
casque  are  blackish.  Like  the  other  members  of 
this    peculiar    family,    the    grey    hornbill    possesses 


88  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

eyelashes,  which  increase  the  strangeness  of  its  ap- 
pearance. This  species  is  found  in  most  parts  of 
the  plains  of  India,  except  the  Malabar  coast,  where 
it  is  replaced  by  Lophoceros  griseus.  The  grey  hornbill 
of  Ceylon  is  the  species  L.  gtngalensis. 

The  majority  of  species  of  hornbill  shun  the  vicinity 
of  human  beings.  They  are  accordingly  to  be  found 
only  in  the  Terai  and  other  great  forest  tracts.  The 
grey  hornbill,  on  the  contrary,  shows  no  fear  of  man. 
Although  strictly  arboreal  in  its  habits,  it  occurs  in 
those  parts  of  the  country  that  are  not  thickly  wooded. 
A  grove  of  trees  is  all  that  it  demands.  Grey  horn- 
bills  are  birds  of  the  highway  and  the  village.  Usually 
they  go  about  in  small  flocks. 

Lophoceros  hirostris  is  particularly  abundant  in  the 
sub-Himalayan  districts  of  the  United  Provinces.  In 
Oudh  and  the  eastern  part  of  Agra  almost  every 
village  has  its  colony  of  grey  hornbills.  These  ham- 
lets are  nearly  always  surrounded  by  trees,  usually 
bamboos,  among  which  the  hornbills  live.  In  many 
parts  of  Northern  India  grey  hornbills  are  commonly 
seen  in  the  avenues  of  trees  which  are  planted  along 
the  high  roads  to  shelter  wayfarers  from  the  midday 
sun. 

Hornbills  feed  largely  on  fruit  and  are  fond  of  that 
of  the  pipal  and  the  banian  trees.  Their  great  bills 
are  admirably  suited  to  the  plucking  of  fruit.  When 
the  hornbill  has  severed  a  berry,  it  tosses  it  into  the 
air,  catches  it  in  the  bill  as  it  falls,  and  then  swallows 
it.  This  is  the  most  expeditious  way  of  passing  the 
food  from  the  tip  of  its  bill  to  the  entrance  to  its  gullet. 


THE   GREY    HORNBILL  89 

The  cry  of  the  grey  hornbill  is  feeble  for  so  large  a 
bird,  and  is  querulous,  like  that  of  the  common  kite. 

The  nesting  habits  of  the  hornbills  are  very  remark- 
able. The  eggs  are  deposited  in  a  cavity  in  a  tree. 
The  cavity  selected  may  be  the  result  of  decay  in 
the  wood,  or  it  may  have  been  hollowed  out  by  a 
woodpecker  or  other  bird.  In  either  case  the  hornbill 
has  usually  to  enlarge  the  cavity,  for,  being  a  big 
bird,  it  requires  a  spacious  nest.  When  all  preparations 
have  been  made,  the  female  enters  the  nest  hole, 
and  does  not  emerge  until  some  weeks  later,  when  the 
eggs  have  been  hatched  and  the  young  are  ready  to  fly. 
Having  entered  the  nest,  the  hen  hornbill  proceeds 
to  reduce  the  size  of  the  orifice  by  which  she  gained 
access  to  the  nest  cavity,  by  plastering  it  up  with  her 
ordure  until  the  aperture  is  no  more  than  a  mere 
slit,  only  just  large  enough  to  enable  her  to  insert  her 
beak  through  it.  Thus,  during  the  whole  period  of 
incubation  and  brooding  she  is  entirely  dependent 
on  the  cock  for  food.  And  he  never  leaves  her  in  the 
lurch.  He  is  most  assiduous  in  his  attentions.  When 
he  reaches  the  trunk  in  which  his  wife  is  sitting,  he, 
while  clinging  to  the  bark  with  his  claws,  taps  the 
trunk  with  his  bill,  and  thus  apprises  her  of  his  arrival. 
She  then  thrusts  her  bill  through  the  orifice  and  re- 
ceives the  food.  When  at  length  the  young  are  ready 
to  leave  the  nest,  the  mother  emerges  with  her  plumage 
in  a  much-bedraggled  condition. 

Why  the  hen  hornbill  behaves  thus,  why  she  is 
content  to  submit  periodically  to  a  term  of  "  simple 
imprisonment,"    is    one    of   the    unsolved   riddles   of 


90  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

Nature.  This  curious  habit  is  peculiar  to  the  horn- 
bills,  but  seems  to  be  common  to  every  member  of 
the  family.  In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to 
note  that  the  hoopoes,  which  are  nearly  related  to  the 
hornbills,  have  somewhat  similar  nesting  habits. 
The  hen  hoopoe,  although  she  does  not  adopt  the 
heroic  measure  of  closing  up  the  entrance  to  the 
nest  cavity,  is  said  never  to  leave  the  nest  until  the 
young  have  emerged  from  the  eggs.  No  sight  is 
commoner  in  India  than  that  of  a  hoopoe  carrying 
food  to  the  aperture  of  a  hole  in  a  tree,  or  in 
a  building  made  of  mud,  in  which  his  spouse  is 
sitting.  Another  curious  feature  in  the  nesting  habits 
of  the  hornbill  does  not  appear  to  have  been  mentioned 
by  any  observer,  and  that  is  that  during  the  nesting 
season  hornbills  go  about  in  threes,  and  not  in  pairs. 
I  have  noticed  this  on  two  occasions,  and  Mr.  Home, 
in  his  interesting  account  of  the  nesting  of  the  grey 
hornbill  at  Mainpuri,  which  is  recorded  in  Hume's 
Nests  and  Eggs  of  Indian  Birds,  mentions  the  pre- 
sence of  a  third  hornbill,  who  "  used  to  hover  about, 
watch  proceedings,  and  sometimes  quarrel  with  her 
accepted  lord,  but  he  never  brought  food  to  the 
female."  Although  grey  hornbills  are  by  no  means 
uncommon  birds,  very  few  nests  seem  to  have  been 
taken.  The  result  is  that  there  are  several  points 
regarding  their  nidification  that  need  elucidation. 
Those  who  love  the  fowls  of  the  air  should  lose  no 
opportunity  of  studying  the  ways  of  these  truly  re- 
markable birds. 


XVI 
THE  FLAMINGO 

ORNITHOLOGISTS,  as  is  their  wont,  have 
disputed  much  among  themselves  as  to 
whether  the  flamingo  is  a  stork-hke  duck 
or  a  duck-hke  stork.  Indians  accept 
the  former  view  and  call  the  bird  the  King  Goose 
[Raj  Hans)  ;  their  opinion  was  shared  by  Jerdon, 
who  classed  the  flamingo  among  the  geese.  Likewise, 
Stuart  Baker  has  given  flamingos  a  place  among  the 
Indian  ducks  and  their  allies. 

The  flamingo  is  both  wader  and  swimmer.  It  has 
long  legs,  the  better  to  wade  with,  and  webbed  feet 
admirably  adapted  to  natation.  The  bird  certainly 
wades  by  preference.  I  have  never  seen  it  in  water 
sufficiently  deep  to  render  swimming  necessary  or 
even  possible.  Those  who  have  been  more  fortunate 
state  that  the  swimming  movements  of  the  flamingo 
resemble  those  of  a  swan.  I  doubt  whether  flamingos 
ever  swim  from  choice,  but  the  webbed  feet  are 
likely  to  be  useful,  especially  in  the  case  of  young 
birds,  when  flamingos  are  swept  off  their  feet  by  the 
wind  in  a  violent  storm. 

Two  species  of  flamingo  occur  in  India.    These  are 

91 


92  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

known  as  Phcenicopterus  roseus  and  P.  minor,  or  the 
common  and  the  lesser  flamingo.  As  the  former  is 
the  one  most  often  seen  in  India  let  us  concentrate 
our  attention  on  it.  It  is  as  tall  as  many  a  man, 
and  measures  over  four  feet  from  the  tip  of  the  beak 
to  the  end  of  the  tail.  Of  these  four  feet  the  greater 
portion  consists  of  neck,  which  is  very  supple  ;  a 
flamingo  when  preening  its  feathers  often  twists  the 
neck  so  that  it  assumes  the  shape  of  a  figure  of  eight. 
The  general  hue  of  the  bird  is  white  tipped  with  rosy 
pink  ;  the  wings  are  crimson  and  black,  hence  the 
appropriate  scientific  name,  Phcenicopterus,  wings  of 
flame.  The  bill  is  pale  pink,  tipped  with  black,  while 
the  legs  are  reddish  pink. 

Every  Anglo-Indian  has  seen  flamingos  in  the  wild 
state,  if  not  in  India,  at  any  rate  from  the  deck  of 
a  ship  as  it  crept  through  the  Suez  Canal.  The  shallow 
lakes  and  lagoons  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Canal  abound 
with  flamingos.  These  beautiful  birds  are  to  be  seen 
in  numbers  throughout  the  cold  weather  in  the  shallow 
lakes  and  backwaters  round  about  Madras.  Flamingos 
are  very  numerous  in  Ceylon,  where  they  are  known 
to  the  Singalese  as  the  "  Enghsh  Soldier  Birds  "  on 
account  of  their  "  crimson  tunics "  and  upright 
martial  bearing. 

A  flock  of  flamingos  is  a  fine  spectacle.  Some  years 
ago  I  saw  near  the  Pulicat  Lake  about  two  hundred 
of  these  birds.  They  were  perhaps  half  a  mile 
from  the  house-boat.  Their  white  bodies  showed  up 
well  against  a  background  of  blue  water.  Some  of 
them   were   feeding   with    heads   underwater,    others 


THE   FLAMINGO  93 

stood  as  erect  as  soldiers  at  attention  and  as  motion- 
less as  statues  ;  a  few  were  moving  with  great  pre- 
cision, like  recruits  under  training.  Portions  of  the 
flock  were  congregated  in  small  groups,  apparently 
in  solemn  conclave.  Dignity  and  solemnity  are  the 
distinguishing  features  of  the  flamingo.  After  watching 
the  flock  for  fully  half  an  hour  I  fired  a  gun.  I  did 
not  try  to  kill  any  of  them.  They  were  out  of  range. 
I  fired  because  I  wanted  to  see  the  birds  take  to  their 
wings,  to  see  them  rise  like  a  "  glorious  exhalation." 
The  report  of  the  gun  seemed  to  cause  no  alarm. 
There  was  none  of  that  fluster  and  hurry  that  most 
birds  display  when  they  hear  the  sound  of  firing. 
The  flamingos  rose  in  a  stately  manner  ;  they  did  not 
all  leave  the  water  simultaneously.  The  birds  took  to 
their  wngs  by  twos  and  threes,  so  that  it  was  not  until 
more  than  a  minute  after  the  firing  of  the  gun  that  all 
of  them  were  in  the  air.  As  their  wings  opened  the 
colour  of  the  birds  changed  from  white  to  crimson, 
the  latter  being  the  hue  of  the  lining  of  their  wdngs. 
It  was  as  if  red  limelight  had  been  thrown  on  to  the 
whole  flock. 

During  flight,  the  long  white  neck,  that  terminates 
in  the  pink-and-black  bill,  is  stretched  out  in  front, 
and  the  pink  legs  point  behind,  so  that  the  neck  and 
legs  form  one  straight  line,  broken  by  the  crimson 
wings,  which  are  flapped  very  slowly.  The  great 
birds  sailed  thus  majestically  for  a  few  hundred 
yards  and  then  sank  to  the  water. 

^^^en  flamingos  are  about  to  alight  the  legs  leave 
the    horizontal    position    assumed   during   flight    and 


94  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

come  slowly  forward  until  they  touch  the  water. 
The  whole  flock  settles  without  making  any  splash. 
It  has  never  been  my  good  fortune  to  watch  the 
flight  of  flamingos  at  very  close  quarters.  I  will, 
therefore,  reproduce  from  the  Saturday  Review 
Colonel  Willoughby  Verner's  description  of  those  he 
witnessed  in  Spain  :  "  What  a  wonderful  sight  it  was  ! 
The  curious-shaped  heads  and  bulbous  beaks  at  the 
end  of  the  long,  thin,  outstretched,  and  snake-like 
necks,  the  small  compact  bodies,  shining  white  below 
and  rosy  pink  above,  the  crimson  coverts  and  glossy 
black  of  the  quickly  moving  pinions,  and  the  im- 
mensely long  legs  projecting  stiffly  behind,  ending 
in  the  queer-shaped  feet.  Surely  no  other  bird  on 
God's  earth  presents  such  an  incongruous  and  almost 
uncanny  shape  and  yet  affords  such  a  beautiful 
spectacle  of  colour  and  movement.  Onward  they 
sped,  now  in  one  long  sinuous  line  ;  now  with  some 
of  the  birds  in  the  centre  or  rear  increasing  their 
speed  and  surging  up  *  line  abreast  '  of  those  in  front 
of  them,  and  again  falling  back  and  resuming  their 
posts,  ever  and  anon  uttering  their  weird,  trumpeting, 
goose-like  call.  They  were  flying  not  fifteen  feet 
above  the  water,  and  as  they  passed  abreast  of  me, 
the  moving  mass  of  white,  pink,  crimson,  and  black 
was  mirrored  in  the  placid  surface  of  the  laguna  below 
them  which  shone  like  a  sheet  of  opal  in  the  setting 
rays  of  the  sun." 

The  beak  of  the  flamingo  is  a  curious  structure. 
It  is  bent  almost  to  a  right  angle  m  the  middle,  so 
that  when  the  basal  portion  is  horizontal  the  tip  of 


THE   FLAMINGO  95 

the  bill  points  towards  the  ground,  and  when  the 
long  neck  is  directed  downwards  (as  must  be  done 
when  the  bird  feeds  because  of  the  length  of  the  legs) 
the  terminal  half  of  the  bill  is  parallel  to  the  ground, 
and  the  tip  points  between  the  bird's  toes.  Thus  the 
flamingo  when  feeding  assumes  the  position  it  would 
adopt  when  about  to  stand  on  its  head  !  The  upper 
mandible  then  is  placed  along  the  ground,  and,  for 
the  convenience  of  the  bird,  is  flattened,  while  the 
lower  mandible,  which  is  uppermost  when  the  bird 
is  feeding,  is  arched  like  the  upper  mandible  in  most 
birds.  This  arrangement  gives  the  flamingo  a 
grotesque  appearance. 

The  food  of  this  species  consists  of  small  crustaceans, 
insects  and  mollusc  a,  together  with  vegetable  matter. 
The  quarry  is  scooped  out  of  the  mud  at  the  bottom 
of  the  lake.  The  mandibles  are  lamellated  like  those 
of  ducks,  hence  they,  assisted  by  the  tongue,  act  as 
sieves  and  reject  most  of  the  mud  while  retaining 
the  nutritive  material.  The  words  "  most  of  the 
mud  "  are  used  advisedly,  for  it  is  not  possible  to 
sift  all  out,  so  that  those  who  have  examined  the 
contents  of  the  stomach  of  the  flamingo  have  usually 
found  it  to  contain  a  quantity  of  sand  and  mud. 

The  nest  of  the  flamingo  is  a  mound  of  earth  raised 
by  the  bird  from  shallow  water.  The  only  place  in 
India  where  flamingos  are  known  to  breed  is  the  Run 
of  Cutch.  In  seasons  when  there  has  been  sufficient  rain- 
fall this  curious  spot  abounds  with  nests  of  flamingos. 

The  older  writers  believed  that,  on  account  of 
the  length  of  its  legs,  the  flamingo  could  not  incubate 


96  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

its  eggs  in  the  ordinary  manner.  It  was  known 
that  the  nest  consists  of  a  mound  raised  from  the 
ground,  and  from  this  it  was  conjectured  that  the 
bird  stood  up  to  hatch  its  eggs.  Writing  of  the  in- 
convenience of  the  long  shanks  of  the  flamingo.  Bishop 
Stanley  said : — 

*'  A  still  greater  inconvenience  would  ensue  if  it 
were  under  the  necessity  of  sitting  on  its  nest,  like 
other  birds,  for  it  would  then  be  utterly  impossible 
to  dispose  of  its  long,  stilted,  disproportioned  legs. 
Nature  has,  however,  met  the  difficulty,  and  taught 
it  how  to  make  a  nest  exactly  suited  to  its  form 
and  length  of  leg.  It  is  made  of  mud,  in  the  shape 
of  a  hillock,  with  a  cavity  on  the  top  where  the  eggs 
are  laid  ;  and  the  height  of  the  hillocks  is  such  that 
she  can  sit  as  comfortably  on  her  nest  as  a  horseman 
does  on  his  saddle,  leaving  her  legs  to  hang  dangling 
down  at  full  length  on  either  side." 

In  order  to  impress  this  peculiarity  of  the  flamingo 
on  the  mind  of  the  reader,  the  worthy  Bishop  furnishes 
a  picture  of  an  incubating  flamingo.  A  similar  belief 
used  to  exist  regarding  herons  and  other  long-legged 
birds.  These  were  supposed  to  sit  astride  the  nest, 
and  certain  veracious  observers  stated  that  they  had 
noticed  the  legs  dangling  down.  Needless  to  state, 
there  is  no  truth  in  these  stories.  Every  long-shanked 
bird  is  able  to  bend  its  legs  and  tuck  them  up  under 
it  when  necessary. 

Mr.  Abel  Chapman  has  actually  observed  the 
flamingo  folding  its  legs  under  its  body  when  it  is 
about  to  sit  on  the  nest. 


THE   FLAMINGO  97 

But  it  is  unfair  to  laugh  at  good  Bishop  Stanley. 
His  statement  that  the  flamingo  sits  astride  its  nest 
is  not  nearly  so  ridiculous  as  Mr.  A.  Thayer's  assertion 
that  crocodiles  mistake  the  flamingo  for  a  sunset  ! 
Mr.  Thayer  is  an  American  artist  who  is  obsessed 
by  the  theory  that,  amid  their  natural  surroundings, 
all  birds  and  beasts  are  obliteratively  coloured,  so 
as  to  be  completely  invisible.  Instead  of  meeting 
with  the  ridicule  it  deserves,  this  utterly  preposter- 
ous theory  appears  to  be  accepted  by  some  British 
zoologists  ! 

Two  eggs  are  usually  laid  by  the  flamingo,  but 
only  one  seems  to  be  hatched  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases. 

Baby  flamingos  are  covered  with  greyish  down,  and 
have  normally  shaped  bills,  which,  however,  at  an 
early  age  assume  the  curious  form  so  characteristic 
of  the  adult. 


XVII 
SUMMER  VISITORS  TO  THE  PUNJAB  PLAINS 

DURING  the  months  that  Father  Sol  is  doing 
his  best  to  make  the  Punjab  an  earthly 
Inferno  the  birds  are  busy  at  their  nests. 
They  do  not  seem  to  mind  the  heat.  Some 
of  them  positively  revel  in  it,  visiting  us  only  in  the 
hot  weather.  These  summer  visitors  form  an  interest- 
ing group. 

The  bee-eaters  are  the  first  to  make  their  appear- 
ance. In  the  first  or  second  week  in  March,  two  species 
of  bee-eater  visit  the  Punjab — the  little  green  one 
(Merops  viridis),  and  the  blue-tailed  species  {M. 
philippinus).  The  former  is  a  grass-green  bird  about 
the  size  of  a  bulbul.  Its  beak  is  slightly  curved  and 
black  ;  a  bar  of  the  same  hue  runs  through  the  eye. 
The  throat  is  a  beautiful  turquoise  blue.  The  wings 
are  tinted  with  bronze,  so  that  the  bird,  when  it  flies, 
looks  golden  rather  than  green.  The  most  distinctive 
feature  of  the  bee-eater  is  the  middle  pair  of  tail 
feathers,  which  are  blackish  and  project  beyond  the 
others  as  sharp  bristles. 

Bee-eaters  feed  upon  insects  which  they  catch  on  the 
wing.  The  larger  species  live  up  to  their  name  by 
devouring  bees  and  wasps.    Like  every  other  bird  that 


SUMMER   VISITORS  99 

hawks  flying  insects  the  bee-eater  takes  up  a  strategic 
position  on  a  telegraph  wire,  a  raihng,  a  bare  branch  or 
other  point  of  vantage,  whence  it  keeps  a  sharp  look- 
out for  its  quarry.  When  an  insect  appears  it  is  smartly 
captured  in  the  air,  the  mandibles  of  the  bee-eater 
closing  upon  it  with  a  snap,  audible  at  a  distance  of 
several  yards. 

Bee-eaters  begin  nesting  almost  immediately  upon 
arrival.  The  nest  is  a  chamber,  rather  larger  than  a 
cricket  ball,  which  the  cock  and  hen,  working  turn  about, 
scoop  out  of  a  sandbank  with  beak  and  claw.  The  nest 
chamber  communicates  with  the  exterior  by  a  passage 
about  three  feet  long,  so  narrow  that  the  bird  is  unable 
to  turn  round  in  it.  Every  kind  of  sandbank  is 
utilised.  Numbers  of  nests  are  to  be  found  in  the 
mounds  that  adorn  the  Lawrence  Gardens  at  Lahore. 
Others  may  be  seen  in  the  artificial  bunkers  on  the 
uninviting  maidan  which  is  by  courtesy  called  The 
Lahore  Golf  Links.  The  butts  on  the  rifle  range  are 
sometimes  made  use  of,  the  bee-eaters  being  utterly 
regardless  of  the  bullets  that  every  now  and  then  bury 
themselves  with  a  thud  in  the  earth  near  the  nest  hole. 

The  blue-tailed  bee-eater  is  distinguishable  by  its 
larger  size,  its  yellowish  throat,  and  its  blue  tail.  It 
is  not  so  abundant  as  the  green  species,  and  excavates 
its  nest  at  a  higher  level.  The  note  of  both  kinds  of 
bee-eater  is  a  soft  but  cheery  whistle. 

The  honey-suckers  {Arachnechthra  asiatica)  or  sun- 
birds,  as  they  are  frequently  called,  follow  hard  upon 
the  bee-eaters.  As  these  charming  little  birds  form  the 
subject  of  a  subsequent  chapter,  it  is  only  necessary 


lOO  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

to  state  in  this  place  that  they  build  thousands  of  nests 
in  the  various  stations  of  the  Punjab  during  the  sum- 
mer months.  At  least,  one  nest  is  to  be  found  in  every 
garden.  In  each  little  nursery  two  or  three  families 
are  reared  in  succession. 

The  koel  (Eudynamis  honorata)  is  perhaps  the  most 
interesting  of  our  summer  visitors.  We  are  all  of  us 
acquainted  with  his  fluty  crescendo  kii-il,  ku-il,  ku-il, 
also  with  the  excited  kuk,  koo-oo,  koo-ooo,  which  the 
bird  pours  forth  in  a  veritable  torrent. 

The  koel  is  sometimes  erroneously  called  the  brain- 
fever  bird.  This  proud  title  properly  belongs  to  an- 
other parasite,  namely  the  hawk  cuckoo  (Hierococcyx 
varius),  which  does  not  come  as  far  west  as  Lahore, 
but  may  be  heard  at  Umballa.  This  noisy  fowl  shrieks 
brain  fever,  brain  fever,  brain  fever,  beginning  low  down 
in  the  scale  and  ascending  higher  and  higher  until 
his  top  note  is  reached,  then  he  begins  all  over  again, 
and  repeats  the  performance  for  an  indefinite  period. 
He  would  have  a  future  before  him  as  a  foghorn  were 
it  only  possible  to  make  him  call  at  will ! 

The  cock  koel  is  a  jet  black  bird  with  a  red  eye  and 
a  green  bill.  When  flying  he  looks  like  a  slenderly 
built,  long-tailed  crow.  The  hen  is  speckled  black  and 
white.    This  cuckoo  cuckolds  crows. 

The  cock  draws  off  the  owners  of  the  nest  by 
placing  himself  near  them  and  screaming.  The  crows, 
being  short-tempered  birds,  rise  to  the  bait  and  give 
chase.  While  they  are  absent  the  hen  slips  into  the 
nest  and  lays  her  egg.  If  sufficient  time  be  allowed  she 
destroys  one  or  more  of  the  eggs  already  in  the  nest. 


SUMMER   VISITORS  loi 

She  works  hurriedly,  for  the  operation  is  a  dangerous 
one.  If  she  be  caught  on  the  nest  the  crows  will  try  to 
kill  her  and  will,  as  hkely  as  not,  succeed.  The  life 
of  the  koel  is  by  no  means  all  beer  and  skittles.  If  the 
hen  koel  gets  away  before  the  crows  return  they  fail 
to  notice  the  strange  egg,  although  it  differs  markedly 
from  their  blue  and  yellow  ones,  being  smaller  and 
olive  green  blotched  with  yellow.  Nor  do  they  seem 
to  miss  their  own  eggs  which  are  lying  broken  on  the 
ground  beneath  the  nest.  Sometimes  the  koel  returns 
and  lays  a  second  egg  in  the  same  nest,  and  destroys 
all  the  legitimate  eggs,  for  she  can  tell  the  difierence 
between  her  eggs  and  those  of  the  crow.  Thus  it 
sometimes  happens  that  the  deluded  crows  rear  up 
only  two  koels.  They  never  seem  to  notice  the  trick 
that  has  been  played  upon  them.  Even  when  the 
black-skinned  young  koels  hatch  out,  the  crows  are 
apparently  unable  to  distinguish  them  from  their  own 
pink-coloured  young. 

The  young  koel  invariably  emerges  from  the  egg 
before  his  foster-brothers  and  thus  begins  life  with  a 
start.  He  develops  much  more  quickly  than  they  do, 
but,  unlike  the  common  cuckoo,  ejects  neither  the  other 
eggs  in  the  nest,  nor  the  young  birds  as  they  hatch 
out.  He  lives  on  good  terms  with  the  other  occupants 
of  the  nest,  and  when  fledged,  makes  laudable  if  lu- 
dicrous attempts  to  caw. 

The  natives  assert  that  the  hen  koel  keeps  an  eye 
on  her  offspring  all  the  while  they  are  in  the  crow's 
nest  and  takes  charge  of  them  after  they  leave  it.  I 
am  almost  certain  that  this  is  not  so. 


I02  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

Early  in  April  the  paradise  flycatchers  (Terpsiphone 
paradisi)  arrive.  The  hen  is  a  chestnut  bird  with  a 
black  head  and  crest  and  a  white  breast ;  she  looks 
something  like  a  bulbul.  The  cock  when  quite  young 
is  similarly  attired.  At  his  first  autumnal  moult,  that 
is  to  say  when  he  is  about  fifteen  months  old,  his  two 
middle  tail  feathers  outgrow  the  rest  by  twelve  or 
thirteen  inches.  In  his  third  year  white  feathers  begin 
to  appear  among  the  chestnut  ones,  and  after  his 
third  autumnal  moult  he  emerges  as  a  magnificent 
white  bird  with  a  metallic  black  head  and  crest.  His 
elongated  tail  feathers  now  look  like  white  satin 
streamers.  He  retains  this  livery  for  the  remainder  of 
his  life,  and  looks  so  magnificent  in  it  as  to  merit  well 
his  name.  It  is  impossible  to  mistake  the  paradise  fly- 
catcher. There  is  no  other  bird  like  it.  It  is  a  denizen 
of  orchards  and  shady  groves  and  may  always  be  seen 
during  the  hot  weather  in  the  beautiful  wood  on  the 
bank  of  the  Ravi  between  the  bridge  of  boats  and  the 
railway.  A  cock  paradise  flycatcher,  in  the  full  glory 
of  his  white  plumage,  as  he  flits  like  a  sprite  through  the 
leafy  glade,  is  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  The 
movements  of  his  long  tail  feathers  as  he  pursues  his 
course  are  as  graceful  as  those  of  the  folds  of  the 
gossamer  garments  of  a  skilled  serpentine  dancer. 

The  nest  is  a  deep  cup,  in  shape  like  an  inverted 
cone,  plastered  exteriorly  with  cobweb  and  white 
cocoons.  It  is  almost  invariably  placed  in  a  fork  near 
the  end  of  one  of  the  lower  branches  of  a  tree.  Both 
cock  and  hen  take  part  in  nest  building  and  incubation. 
As  the  cock  sits  his  long  white  tail  feathers  hang  down 


SUMMER   VISITORS  103 

over  the  side  of  the  nest  and  render  him  very  conspicu- 
ous. The  most  expeditious  way  of  finding  a  paradise 
flycatcher's  nest  is  to  look  out  for  a  sitting  cock. 
The  alarm  note  of  this  species  is  a  sharp  harsh  Tschit, 
but  the  cock  is  also  able  to  warble  a  very  sweet  song. 

The  Indian  oriole  (Oriolus  kundoo)  is  another  gor- 
geous summer  visitor  to  the  Punjab.  The  cock  is 
arrayed  in  rich  golden  yellow.  His  bill  is  pink  and  he 
has  a  black  patch  on  each  side  of  his  head,  there  is 
also  some  black  in  his  wings  and  tail.  The  hen  is  clad 
in  greenish  yellow  and  is  neither  so  showy  nor  so  hand- 
some. The  oriole  is  commonly  called  the  mango  bird 
by  Europeans  in  India.  I  have  never  been  able  to 
discover  whether  the  bird  is  so  named  because  the  cock 
is  not  unlike  a  ripe  mango  in  colour,  or  because  orioles 
are  to  be  found  in  almost  every  mango  tope.  Oriolus 
kundoo  is  a  bird  of  many  notes.  Of  these  the  most 
pleasing  is  a  mellow  lorio,  lorio.  Another  note  very 
frequently  heard  is  a  loud  but  not  unmusical  tew.  The 
alarm  note  of  the  species  is  a  plaintive  cry,  not  easy  to 
describe.  It  is  uttered  whenever  a  human  being  ap- 
proaches the  nest.  The  hen  alone  incubates,  but  she 
is  not  often  seen  upon  the  nest,  for  she  leaves  it  at  the 
first  sound  of  a  human  footfall. 

The  nest  of  the  oriole  is  a  wonderful  structure.  It 
is  a  cradle  slung  on  to  a  stout  forked  branch.  The 
bird  tears  with  its  beak  strips  of  the  soft  bark  from  the 
mulberry  tree.  An  end  of  the  strip  is  wound  round 
one  limb  of  the  fork,  then  the  other  end  is  passed  under 
the  nest  and  wound  round  the  other  limb  of  the  sup- 
porting bough.    If  the  strip  be  long  enough  it  is  again 


I04  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

passed  under  the  nest.  This  framework  supports  the 
nest  proper,  which  is  a  hemispherical  cup  composed 
of  fine  roots  and  dried  grass.  The  minimum  of  material 
is  used  in  construction,  with  the  result  that  the  eggs 
lying  in  the  nest  are  sometimes  visible  from  below. 
He  who  would  find  orioles'  nests  should  repair  in  June 
to  the  canal  bank  or  to  the  above-mentioned  wood. 

Every  oriole's  nest  that  I  have  seen  in  Lahore  has 
been  placed  near  a  king-crow's  nest.  It  is,  I  think, 
for  the  sake  of  protection  that  the  oriole  builds  near 
the  king-crow.  This  latter  is  so  pugnacious  that  most 
predaceous  birds  avoid  the  tree  in  which  its  nest  is 
situated. 

Among  the  summer  visitors  to  the  Punjab  is  a  dove 
known  as  Oenopopelia  tranqueharica.  Those  who  find 
this  name  rather  a  mouthful  are  at  liberty  to  call  the 
bird  the  red  turtle-dove.  This  species  is  of  interest  on 
account  of  the  large  amount  of  sexual  dimorphism 
which  it  displays.  The  head  and  neck  of  the  cock 
are  ashy  grey,  his  upper  back  and  wings  are  the  peculiar 
red  of  a  faded  port -wine  stain,  the  lower  back  is  grey, 
the  middle  tail  feathers  are  brown  and  the  other  ones 
white.  There  is  a  black  collar  round  his  neck.  The 
hen  is  a  uniform  greyish  brow^n,  her  only  adornment 
being  a  black  collar  similar  to  that  of  the  cock. 

As  a  chapter  of  this  work  is  devoted  exclusively  to 
the  red  turtle-dove,  nothing  more  need  be  said  of  it  in 
this  place,  save  that  its  note  is  not  the  orthodox  coo,  it 
is  a  pecuhar  low  grunt,  and  gives  one  the  impression 
that  the  bird  has  caught  cold. 

One  summer  visitor  remains  to  be  described,  but  he 


SUMMER   VISITORS  105 

need  not  detain  us  long,  for,  save  his  respectability, 
he  has  nothing  in  particular  to  commend  him.  I  allude 
to  the  yellow-throated  sparrow  (Gymnorhis  flavicollis). 
This  bird  probably  sometimes  passes  for  a  hen  house 
sparrow  ;  close  inspection,  however,  reveals  a  yellow 
patch  on  the  throat.  According  to  Jerdon  this  creature 
has  much  the  same  manners  and  habits  as  the  common 
sparrow.  This  I  consider  libellous.  The  yellow- 
throated  sparrow  is  a  bird  of  retiring  disposition  and 
I  have  never  heard  of  one  forcing  its  way  into  a  sahib's 
bungalow.  It  nestles  in  a  hole  in  a  tree.  Having  lined 
the  ready-made  cavity  with  dry  grass  and  feathers, 
it  lays  four  eggs  which  are  thickly  blotched  all  over 
with  sepia,  chocolate  brown,  or  purple.  A  pair  of 
these  birds  lives  in  the  octagonal  aviary  at  the  Lahore 
Zoo. 


XVIII 
A    BIRD    OF    MANY    ALIASES 

THE  paddy  bird  has  as  many  aliases  as  a 
professional  criminal  of  twenty  years'  stand- 
ing. I  do  not  refer  to  his  scientific  names. 
Of  course  he  has  a  number  of  these.  Every 
bird  has.  A  person  who  desires  violent  exercise  for  the 
memory  cannot  do  better  than  try  to  keep  pace  with 
the  kaleidoscopic  changes  which  Indian  ornithological 
terminology  undergoes.  The  paddy  bird  is  now  known 
as  Ardeola  grayii,  but  I  do  not  guarantee  that  he  will 
be  so  called  next  month.  When  I  assert  that  the  paddy 
bird  is  a  creature  of  many  aliases,  I  mean  that  he  has 
a  number  of  popular  names.  He  is  sometimes  known 
as  the  pond  heron,  because  no  piece  of  water  larger 
than  a  puddle  is  too  small  to  serve  as  a  fishing  ground 
for  him.  His  partiality  to  flooded  rice  fields  has  given 
rise  to  the  name  by  which  he  most  commonly  goes. 
He  is  frequently  dubbed  the  blind  heron,  especially 
by  natives.  The  Tamils  call  him  the  blind  idiot. 
Needless  to  say  the  bird  is  not  blind,  its  confiding 
disposition  is  responsible  for  the  adjective.  It  might 
be  blind  for  all  the  notice  it  takes  of  surrounding 
objects  as  it  stands  at  the  water's  edge,  huddled  up 
like  a  decrepit  old  man. 

io6 


A   BIRD   OF   MANY   ALIASES  107 

Before  proceeding  further,  let  me,  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  avifauna  of 
India,  describe  the  bird.  It  is  much  smaller  than  the 
common  heron,  being  about  the  size  of  a  curlew.  The 
head,  neck,  and  the  whole  of  the  upper  plumage  are 
greenish  brown,  each  feather  having  a  darker  shaft 
stripe.  The  under  parts  are  white,  as  are  the  larger 
wing  feathers,  but  these  latter  are  so  arranged  as  to 
be  altogether  invisible  when  the  wings  are  closed,  so 
that  the  bird,  when  it  flies,  seems  suddenly  to  produce 
from  nowhere  a  pair  of  beautiful  white  pinions  and 
sail  away  on  them.  Before  it  has  flown  far  it  usually 
performs  the  vanishing  trick.  This,  like  most  effective 
conjuring  tricks,  is  very  easy  to  perform  when  one 
knows  how  to  do  it.  The  bird  merely  folds  its  wings, 
then  the  dark  coverts  alone  are  visible.  These  are  of 
the  same  hue  as  the  damp  sand  or  mud  on  which  the 
paddy  bird  spends  a  considerable  portion  of  the  day. 
The  dingy  hues  of  the  paddy  bird  are  the  outcome  of 
its  habits  ;  it  is  a  shikari  that  stalks  its  prey  or  lies  in 
wait  for  it.  If  it  were  as  showy  as  the  cattle  egret  its 
intended  victims  would  "  see  it  coming  "  and  mock  at 
it.    Hence  the  necessity  for  its  workaday  garb. 

The  paddy  bird  is  a  very  sluggish  creature  ;  it 
comes  of  a  lazy  family.  There  is  not  a  single  member 
of  the  heron  tribe  that  does  sufficient  work  to  disqualify 
it  for  membership  of  the  most  particular  trade  union. 

Most  herons,  however,  do  stalk  their  prey,  which  is 
more  than  the  paddy  bird  usually  does.  One  may 
sometimes  see  him  progressing  through  shallow  water 
at  the  rate  of  six  inches  a  minute  ;  but  more  commonly 


io8  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

he  stands  in  shallow  water  as  motionless  as  a  stuffed 
bird,  with  his  head  almost  buried  in  his  shoulders, 
looking  as  though  he  were  highly  disgusted  with  things 
in  general.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  is  thoroughly  en- 
joying himself.  His  ugly  eye  is  fixed  upon  some  luck- 
less frog  in  the  water.  The  moment  this  comes  within 
striking  distance  the  pond  heron  will  shoot  out  his 
long  neck,  seize  the  frog  and  swallow  it  whole.  One 
cannot  but  feel  sorry  for  the  frog  as  it  finds  itself 
being  hustled  down  the  heron's  throat.  It  probably 
mistook  the  motionless  creature  for  a  rock  and,  even 
had  it  not  made  this  mistake,  it  could  not  be  expected 
to  know  that  the  bird  had  buried  in  its  shoulders  a 
patent  telescopic  neck.  After  the  amphibian  is  safely 
lodged  in  ventro,  the  paddy  bird  resumes  his  strategic 
position  at  the  water's  edge  and  maintains  it  for  hours. 

One  day  when  I  have  nothing  else  to  do  I  mean  to 
mark  down  a  paddy  bird  in  its  roosting  tree,  follow 
it  to  its  fishing  ground  and  picnic  there  all  day  and 
watch  its  behaviour.  I  shall  then  write  an  essay 
entitled  A  Leaf  from  the  Diary  of  a  Lazy  Bird. 

I  imagine  that  the  daily  entry  will  read  somewhat 
as  follows  : — 

8  a.m. — (One  hour  after  sunrise)  woke  up. 
8 — 8.30 — Pruned  my  feathers. 
8.30 — Flew  to  my  fishing  ground. 
8.32 — Settled  there  for  the  day. 
8.40 — 9 — Caught  a  few  water    insects   for    break- 
fast. 

9 — 10 — Had  a  nap. 


A   BIRD   OF   MANY    ALIASES  109 

10.30 — Caught  a  frog. 
10.32 — 12 — Had  a  nap. 
12.15 — Caught  another  frog. 
12.17 — 2 — Had  a  nap. 
2.20 — Caught  a  third  frog. 
2.22 — Walked  three  yards. 
2.24 — 4 — Had  a  nap. 
4.40 — Caught  a  fourth  frog. 
5 — 6 — Had  a  nap. 

6.15 — 6.30 — Caught  and  ate  my  supper. 
6.30 — Flew  to  roost. 

6.35 — 40 — Had  a  row  with  a  neighbour  who  had 
taken  my  private  roosting  site. 

7  p.m.  onwards — Slept  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

The  above  is  not  a  statement  of  actual  fact.  Like 
many  scientific  productions  it  is  based  on  imagination 
and  not  observation.  I  have  not  yet  devoted  a  whole 
day  to  the  paddy  bird.  I  have,  however,  spent  an 
hour  at  a  pond  heron's  dormitory  and  record  in  the 
next  chapter  what  I  saw  there. 

At  the  nesting  season  the  paddy  birds  awake  from 
their  habitual  lethargy.  Towards  the  end  of  June 
they  begin  to  make  a  collection  of  sticks  and  pile  these 
together  on  a  forked  branch  high  up  in  some  tree. 
When  the  pile  has  reached  a  magnitude  sufficient 
to  support  four  or  five  eggs  the  paddy  bird  flatters 
itself  that  it  has  built  a  fine  nest  and  forthwith  proceeds 
to  stock  it  with  eggs.  This  species  usually  nests  in 
colonies,  sometimes  in  company  with  night  herons 
[Nycticorax    griseiis),    and    occasionally    with    crows. 


no  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

Seen  from  below  the  nursery  looks  rather  like  an  old 
crow's  nest.  The  eggs  are  a  beautiful  pale  green. 
They  are  most  jealously  watched  by  the  parents  ;  one 
or  other  always  remaining  on  guard,  and,  every  now 
and  then,  gurgling  with  delight. 

The  youngsters  hatch  out  in  a  comparatively  ad- 
vanced condition.  A  baby  pond  heron  about  a  week 
old  is  a  most  amusing  object.  It  has  a  long,  narrow, 
pinkish  beak,  quite  unlike  the  broad  triangle  that  does 
duty  for  a  mouth  in  passerine  birds.  Its  neck  is  dis- 
proportionately long,  while  its  green  legs  are  many 
sizes  too  big  for  it.  Downy  feathers  are  scattered 
irregularly  over  the  body,  and  add  to  the  absurdity  of 
its  appearance.  The  eye  is  bright  yellow  and  gives  its 
possessor  a  very  knowing  look. 

Most  birds  when  they  have  young  work  hke  slaves 
to  procure  sufficient  food  for  them.  Not  so  the  paddy 
bird.  He  knows  a  trick  worth  two  of  that.  He  is  a 
past  master  in  the  art  of  loafing.  He  does  not  feed 
his  offspring  on  tiny  insects,  dozens  of  which  are 
required  to  make  a  decent  meal ;  he  forces  whole 
frogs  down  the  elastic  gullet  of  the  nestling.  Now 
the  most  ravenous  and  greedy  young  bird  cannot 
negotiate  very  many  frogs  per  diem  ;  hence  the  feed- 
ing of  their  young  is  not  a  great  tax  upon  paddy  birds. 


XIX 

PADDY    BIRDS    AT    BEDTIME 

THE  paddy  bird    [Ardeola  grayii)   is  at  all 
times  and  all  seasons  as  solemn  as  the  pro- 
verbial judge  ;  hence  at  bedtime,  when  all 
other  birds  are  hilarious  and  excited,  he  is 
comparatively  sedate. 

Paddy  birds,  in  common  with  the  great  majority  of 
the  feathered  kind,  roost  in  company.  At  sunrise, 
the  company  separates.  Each  goes  his  own  way  to 
his  favourite  river,  paddy-field,  tank,  pond  or  puddle, 
as  the  case  may  be,  and  spends  the  day  in  morose 
solitude.  At  sunset  he  rejoins  his  fellow  pond  herons. 
Growing  out  of  the  water  in  a  small  tank  near  the 
railway  station  at  Fyzabad  are  three  trees,  one  of 
which  is  quite  small,  while  the  other  two  are  about 
the  size  of  well-grown  apple  trees.  This  description 
is  perhaps  as  vague  as  saying  of  an  object  that  it  is  as 
big  as  a  piece  of  chalk.  I  am  sorry.  I  cannot  help  it. 
I  know  of  no  accurate  method  of  judging  the  size 
of  a  tree  that  is  surrounded  by  dirty,  slimy  water.  On 
one  of  these  trees,  like  unto  an  apple  tree,  over  fifty 
paddy  birds  spend  the  night. 

One  might  have  thought  that  this  was  a  very  fair 
load  for  an  average  tree.     This,  however,  is  not  the 


112         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

opinion  of  the  feathered  folk.  Some  300  or  400  mynas 
also  utilise  this  tree  as  a  dormitory.  The  mynas 
occupy  the  higher  branches,  and  the  paddy  birds  the 
lower  ones. 

As  every  one  knows,  the  roosting  place  of  a  com- 
pany of  mynas  is  a  perfect  pandemonium.  For  thirty 
or  forty  minutes  before  going  to  sleep  each  individual 
bird  shouts  at  every  other  individual  with  truly 
splendid  energy.  If  man  could  but  devise  some 
means  of  harnessing  this  energy,  every  station  in 
India  might  be  lighted  with  electric  light  at  a  very 
small  cost.  As  things  are,  all  this  energy  is  dissipated 
in  the  form  of  sound,  with  the  result  that  the  noise 
made  by  300  starlings  can  be  heard  at  a  distance  of 
half  a  mile. 

One  might  reasonably  suppose  that  a  quiet,  sedate 
bird  like  Ardeola  grayii  would  be  greatly  disgusted 
at  the  din  that  emanates  from  the  throats  of  mynas  at 
bedtime,  and  would  refrain  from  selecting  as  his 
dormitory  a  tree  that  literally  quivers  with  the  shout- 
ings of  mynas.  It  is,  however,  not  so.  Birds  rarely 
do  what  one  would  expect.  I  know  hundreds  of  ideal 
sites  for  birds'  nests  that  are  never  utilised.  Per 
contra,  I  have  met  with  numbers  of  nests  situated  in  the 
most  uncomfortable  and  evil-smelling  places.  Padd}^ 
birds  obviously  do  not  suffer  from  nerves. 

For  about  fifteen  minutes  before  and  fifteen  minutes 
after  sunset  the  tree  in  which  all  these  birds  roost 
presents  an  animated  appearance.  One  or  two  paddy 
birds  are  the  first  to  arrive,  and  they  settle  on  one 
or  other  of  the  lower  branches  which  almost  touch  the 


PADDY   BIRDS   AT   BEDTIME  113 

water.  Nearly  all  birds,  on  approaching  the  tree  in 
which  they  roost,-  literally  throw  themselves  into  the 
foliage,  they  plunge  into  it  at  headlong  speed.  Need- 
less to  say,  the  paddy  bird  does  nothing  so  reckless 
as  this  ;  nevertheless,  when  approaching  the  tree  in 
which  he  intends  to  spend  the  night  he  travels  faster 
than  at  any  other  time,  except,  of  course,  when  he  is 
being  chased  by  a  falcon.  The  advance-guard  of  the 
mynas  arrives  very  shortly  after  the  first  bagla.  The 
mynas  belong  to  two  species — the  common  and  the 
bank  mynas  (Acrtdotheres  tristis  and  A.  ginginianus) . 
They  come  in  squads  of  twenty  or  thirty.  The  various 
squads  arrive  in  rapid  succession.  Then  the  uproar 
begins  and  continues  to  swell  in  volume  as  the  numbers 
in  the  tree  increase. 

The  paddy  birds  come  in  ones  and  twos,  and,  as 
stated,  invariably  alight  on  one  of  the  lower  branches. 
They  usually  select  a  branch  so  thin  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  so  large  a  bird  to  obtain  a  foothold  on 
it  did  not  the  claws  of  that  bird  grip  like  a  vice  ;  and 
even  so  it  is  not  without  much  flapping  of  their  white 
wings  that  the  pond  herons  manage  to  reach  a  state  of 
equilibrium. 

If,  when  a  paddy  bird  has  succeeded  in  steadying 
itself  on  a  slender  branch  two  feet  or  so  above  the 
level  of  the  water,  another  feckless  fellow  elects  to 
alight  on  the  selfsame  branch,  there  follows  trouble 
compared  to  which  the  Turco-Italian  War  is,  as  the 
babu  says,  a  mere  storm  in  a  teapot ;  both  birds  seem 
in  danger  of  taking  a  bath.  On  such  occasions,  the 
bird  first  on  the  tree  greets  the  new-comer  with  gurgles 
I 


114  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

of  protest,  there  is  much  flapping  of  white  wings,  and 
eventually  one  or  both  the  birds  have  to  leave  the 
branch. 

But  it  is  not  until  the  tree  is  filled  with  birds  that  the 
real  fun  begins.  When  about  forty  paddy  birds  are 
squatting  on  the  lower  branches  and  over  300  mynas 
on  the  upper  ones,  it  will  be  well  understood  that  there 
is  not  much  accommodation  available  for  new  arrivals. 
When  a  belated  myna  appears  on  the  scene  and 
plunges  into  the  midst  of  his  brother  starhngs,  he  is 
greeted  with  such  a  torrent  of  abuse  that,  although, 
in  the  gathering  gloom,  one  cannot  see  what  is  going 
on  amid  the  foliage,  one  feels  convinced  that  the 
abuse  is  backed  up  by  assault  and  battery.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  luckless  myna  pitches  into  the  tree 
at  a  lower  elevation,  he  is  liable  to  find  himself  trans- 
fixed by  the  stiletto-hke  beak  of  the  nearest  paddy 
bird,  the  savage  thrust  being  accompanied  by  a  lugu- 
brious croak  which  seems  to  be  the  only  note  of  the 
paddy  bird.  Nine  out  of  ten  mynas  prefer  incurring 
the  wrath  of  their  own  kind  to  bringing  down  upon 
themselves  the  less  noisy  but  more  formidable  anger 
of  the  pond  heron. 

If  the  mynas  are  packed  like  sardines  in  a  box,  the 
paddy  birds  lower  down  are  not  much  more  comfort- 
able. It  is  true  that  the  paddy  birds  are  not  squeezed 
together  after  the  manner  of  the  mynas,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  if  more  than  two  of  them  attempted  to 
squat  on  any  but  the  stoutest  of  the  branches  they 
would  all  find  themselves  immersed  in  the  slimy, 
unsavoury  water  beneath.     The  discomfort   of  the 


PADDY   BIRDS   AT   BEDTIME  115 

paddy  birds  is  of  another  kind.  Each  one  is  balancing 
liimself  on  an  insecure  perch  and  lives  in  momentary 
terror  of  being  displaced  by  the  advent  of  some  other 
hagla.  Hence,  when  the  tree  contains  about  forty 
herons,  every  fresh  arrival  is  greeted  with  croaks  the 
most  sepulchral,  and  there  is  much  shaking  of  branches 
and  flapping  of  wings  before  he  can  find  a  spot  on 
which  he  is  able  to  maintain  himself  in  a  state  of 
unstable  equilibrium. 

I  watched  the  tree  in  question  one  evening  in  order 
to  ascertain  how  many  paddy  birds  roosted  in  it.  I 
was  able  to  count  fifty-four  by  enumerating  the  birds 
as  they  arrived.  I  may  have  missed  a  few.  But  this 
is  a  mere  detail.  The  lower  branches  carried  all  the 
paddy  birds  they  were  capable  of  bearing  with  safety. 
A  few  of  the  paddy  birds  had  to  be  content  with 
berths  in  a  neighbouring  tree,  which  grew  out  of  the 
water  at  a  distance  of  a  few  feet. 

Some  time  after  the  sun  had  set  one  of  the  over- 
flow party  decided  to  try  his  luck  in  the  main  tree, 
and  this  resulted  in  such  croaking  and  fluttering 
of  wings  on  the  part  of  his  fellow  paddy  birds  that  for 
a  few  seconds  the  din  of  the  mynas  was  drowned. 

By  the  time  it  is  really  dark  every  bird,  be  he 
myna  or  pond  heron,  is  sufficiently  satisfied  to  hold 
his  tongue.  From  then  until  an  hour  before  sunrise 
not  a  sound  emanates  from  the  sleeping  population 
of  some  400  mynas  and  50  paddy  birds,  who  have 
elected  to  spend  the  night  amid  the  unwholesome 
vapours  that  emanate  from  the  water  below.  Birds  are 
evidently  mosquito  proof. 


XX 

MERLINS 

MERLINS  are  pigmy  falcons.  Like  falcons, 
they  are  reclaimed  for  hawking  purposes, 
but  are  regarded  as  mere  toys  by  those 
who  indulge  in  "  the  sport  of  kings." 
In  the  days  when  falconry  was  a  fashionable  pastime 
in  England  nearly  every  lady  of  quality  possessed  a 
merlin,  which  was  often  as  much  of  a  companion  as 
a  dog  is  nowadays.  The  exquisite  little  bird  of  prey 
would  accompany  its  mistress  on  her  rides  or  her 
walks,  flying  overhead  and  coming  to  the  glove  when 
called.  This  species,  being  the  only  kind  of  merlin 
found  in  England,  is  popularly  called  the  merlin 
{Msalon  regulus),  even  as  Cuculus  canorus  is  always 
known  as  the  cuckoo,  as  though  it  were  the  only  cuckoo 
in  the  world. 

The  merlin  when  trained  for  falconry  is  usually 
flown  at  the  skylark.  There  are  few  prettier  sights 
than  that  presented  by  a  contest  between  a  merlin 
and  a  skylark.  Both  know  that  the  merlin  can  do 
nothing  until  it  gets  above  its  quarry  ;  hence  the 
contest  at  first  resolves  itself  into  one  for  supremacy 
of  position.  The  adversaries  often  fly  upwards  in 
spirals  until  they  almost  disappear  from  view.    When 

ii6 


MERLINS  117 

once  the  merlin  does  succeed  in  getting  above  the 
lark  it  makes  swoop  after  swoop  until  it  strikes  its 
quarry. 

In  India  the  merlin  is  often  trained  to  fly  at  the 
hoopoe.  This  contest  is  of  a  nature  very  different 
from  that  just  described.  The  hoopoe  does  not  rely 
on  speed.  It  trusts  to  its  truly  marvellous  power 
of  timing  the  onslaught  of  the  merlin  and  swerving 
at  the  critical  moment,  so  that  the  merlin  misses  it 
by  a  hair's  breadth.  So  great  a  master  of  aerial 
manoeuvre  is  the  hoopoe  that  two  merlins  working 
together  are  required  to  accomplish  its  downfall. 

As  the  plumage  of  Msalon  reguhis  has  the  nondescript 
colouring  that  characterises  most  birds  of  prey,  no 
useful  purpose  will  be  served  by  an  attempt  to  describe 
it.  The  merlin  is  a  winter  visitor  to  India,  and  visits 
only  the  Punjab  and  Sind. 

There  is,  however,  another  species  of  merlin  which 
is  a  permanent  resident  in  and  distributed  throughout 
India,  viz.  the  red-headed  merlin  (jE salon  chicquera) 
or  turumti  as  the  bird  is  popularly  called.  Like  the 
common  merlin  it  is  one  of  the  smaller  pirates  of  the 
air,  being  no  larger  than  a  myna,  but  it  is  the  very 
quintessence  of  ferocity,  and  it  knows  not  what  fear 
is.  Hence  it  is  a  terror  to  many  creatures  of  greater 
magnitude  than  itself.  The  red-headed  merlin  is 
comparatively  easy  to  identify,  because  it  has  some 
distinctive  colouring,  in  the  shape  of  a  chestnut- 
red  head  and  neck.  The  remainder  of  the  upper 
plumage  is  French  grey,  marked  with  fine  brown 
cross-bars.    There  is  a  broad  black  band  with  a  white 


ii8  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

edge  across  the  end  of  the  tail.  The  chin,  throat, 
and  under  parts  are  white,  with  brown  spots,  which 
become  less  plentiful  as  the  individual  grows  older. 
This  disappearance  with  age  of  the  markings  on  the 
lower  parts  is  very  common  among  birds  of  prey, 
and  is  one  of  the  many  problems  of  animal  colouring 
that  do  not  appear  to  be  explained  by  the  theory  of 
natural  selection. 

The  hen  turumti  is  about  fourteen  inches  in  length, 
of  which  six  consist  of  tail.  The  cock,  as  is  usual 
among  raptores,  is  somewhat  smaller  than  the  hen. 

The  red-headed  merlin  occurs  only  in  India.  It 
is  an  evil  manufactured  for  the  sole  benefit  of  the 
small  birds  of  Hindustan.  The  turumti  does  not 
appear  to  undergo  any  periodical  migration.  It 
preys  chiefly  upon  small  birds.  Social  larks,  little 
ringed  plovers  and  sparrows  are  its  commonest  victims. 
But  it  is  not  afraid  to  tackle  larger  birds.  Frequently 
it  attacks  mynas,  starlings,  quails,  and  doves.  In- 
deed the  usual  lure  bird  for  a  red-headed  merlin  is  a 
myna.  This  is  tethered  to  a  stick  stuck  into  the  ground, 
and  in  front  of  it  is  stretched  a  net  attached  to  up- 
right posts.  The  first  turumti  to  observe  this  swoops 
down  at  the  myna  to  find  itself  hopelessly  entangled 
in  the  net.  Hume  once  saw  a  red-headed  merlin  strike 
a  pigeon  and  kill  it  with  the  first  blow.  Turumtis 
do  not  confine  their  attention  to  birds.  The  alert 
httle  palm  squirrel  is  often  victimised,  as  are  some- 
times those  bats  that  are  so  unwary  as  to  venture 
forth  before  the  merhns  go  to  bed. 

When  pursuing  their  operations  in  the  open  tu- 


MERLINS  119 

rumtis  frequently  hunt  in  couples,  and,  as  they  fly 
exceedingly  swiftly,  no  matter  how  speedy  the  quarry 
be  or  how  adept  in  swerving  in  the  air,  it  is  rarely 
able  to  escape  from  the  concerted  attack  of  a  pair 
of  these  little  furies. 

Red-headed  merlins  are  addicted  to  perching  on 
the  telegraph  wires  that  are  stretched  alongside 
railway  lines.  They  do  this  in  order  to  pounce  down 
into  the  midst  of  a  flock  of  small  birds  alarmed  by 
the  noise  of  a  passing  train.  The  turumti,  like  the 
sparrow  hawk,  is  a  sprinter  rather  than  a  long-distance 
flier,  and  hence  is  able  to  secure  its  quarry  in  gardens, 
groves,  and  other  comparatively  confined  places. 
It  is  fond  of  ghding  with  great  rapidity  along  some 
hedgerow  or  bank  and  swooping  down  on  any  small 
bird  feeding  in  the  vicinity. 

The  turumti  is  not  often  used  for  purposes  of  falconry, 
which  is  somewhat  surprising,  seeing  that  it  affords 
better  sport  than  does  the  shikra,  because  it  does  not 
give  up  the  chase  so  readily.  When  trained  it  is  usually 
flown  at  the  blue  jay  or  roller  [Coracias  indica). 
*'  In  pursuit  of  this  quarry,"  writes  Jerdon,  "  the 
falcon  follows  most  closely  and  perseveringly,  but  is 
often  baulked  by  the  extraordinary  evolutions  of 
the  roller,  who  now  darts  off  obliquely,  then  tumbles 
down  perpendicularly,  screaming  all  the  time  and 
endeavouring  to  gain  the  shelter  of  the  nearest  grove 
or  tree.  But  even  here  he  is  not  safe  ;  the  falcon 
follows  him  from  branch  to  branch,  and  sooner  or 
later  the  exhausted  quarry  falls  a  victim  to  the  ruthless 
bird  of  prey." 


I20         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

Very  different  is  the  behaviour  of  the  shikra  ;  he 
makes  a  dash  at  the  quarry,  and,  if  he  fail  to  seize 
it  at  once,  gives  up  the  chase. 

The  red-headed  merhn  is  thrown  from  the  hand 
in  the  same  way  as  the  shikra.  According  to  Mr. 
R.  Thompson,  the  turumti  affords  peculiar  sport 
with  the  spotted  dove  {Turtur  siiratensis),  "  striking 
at  the  quarry  several  times,  and  even  often  losing 
it  altogether,  owing  partly  to  the  softness  of  the 
dove's  feathers,  which  give  way  at  the  least  touch, 
and  partly  to  its  rapid  dodging  flight.*' 

Turumtis  breed  from  February  to  June,  earlier 
in  South  India  than  in  the  Punjab  and  the  Himalayas. 
The  nest  is  usually  built  in  a  fork  near  the  top  of  a 
tree — a  tamarind  or  a  mango  for  preference.  In 
size  and  appearance  the  nest  resembles  that  of  a 
crow.  It  consists  of  a  conglomeration  of  twigs,  form- 
ing a  platform  of  which  the  diameter  measures  about 
a  foot.  In  the  middle  is  a  depression,  lined  with  fine 
twigs,  roots,  feathers,  or  other  convenient  materials, 
in  which  the  eggs  are  placed.  Both  sexes  take  part 
in  nest  building,  which  they  appear  to  consider 
a  very  difficult  and  arduous  task,  judging  by  the 
fuss  they  make  over  the  placing  of  every  twig  brought 
to  the  nest.  The  eggs  are  reddish  white,  very  thickly 
speckled  with  brownish  red.  Turumtis  are  exceedingly 
pugnacious  at  the  nesting  season,  and  are  as  resentful 
as  king-crows  at  any  kind  of  intrusion  ;  hence  they 
are  kept  busy  in  giving  chase  to  crows  et  hoc  genus 
omne,  who  seem  to  take  a  positive  delight  in  teasing 
fussy  birds  with  nests. 


XXI 

THE  COMMON   WRYNECK 

I  LEAVE  it  to  anatomists  to  determine  whether 
wrynecks    are    woodpeckers    that    are    turning 
into  other  birds,  or  other  birds  that  are  changing 
into  woodpeckers.     Certain  it  is  that  they  are 
closely  allied  to  woodpeckers. 

Only  four  species  of  wryneck  are  known  to  exist, 
and,  of  these,  three  are  confined  to  the  Dark  Continent, 
while  the  fourth  is  a  great  traveller.  It  is  the  bird 
which  is  frequently  seen  in  India  during  the  winter, 
and  is  well  known  in  England  as  the  "  cuckoo's  mate," 
because  it  migrates  every  year  to  Great  Britain  at 
the  same  time  as  the  cuckoo.  Ornithologists  call  this 
bird  lynx  torquilla,  plain  Englishmen  usually  term  it 
the  wryneck,  as  though  there  were  only  one  species 
in  the  world.  From  their  insular  point  of  view  they 
are  quite  right  because  it  is  the  only  WTyneck  they 
ever  see  unless  they  leave  their  island.  One  con- 
venience of  living  in  a  country,  like  England,  poor 
in  species,  is  that  to  particularise  a  bird  is  rarely 
necessary  ;  it  is  sufficient  to  speak  of  the  cuckoo, 
the  swallow,  the  kingfisher,  the  heron.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  who  dwell  in  this  country  of  many  species, 
if  we  would  not  be  misunderstood,  usually  have  to 

121 


122         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

particularise  the  cuckoo,  the  kingfisher,  or  the  swallow 
of  which  we  are  speaking.  However,  as  regards 
wrynecks,  India  is  no  better  off  than  England.  One 
species  only  visits  that  country ;  hence  Indians 
may  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  speaking  of  it  as  the 
wryneck.  This  is  a  bird  not  much  larger  than  a 
sparrow  and  attired  as  plainly  as  the  hen  of 
that  species.  But  here  the  resemblance  ends.  The 
wryneck  is  as  retiring  in  disposition  as  the  sparrow 
is  obtrusive.  I  defy  any  one  to  dwell  a  week  in  a 
locality  that  boasts  of  a  pair  of  sparrows  without 
noticing  them,  but  many  a  man  spends  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  in  India  without  once  observing  a 
wryneck.  The  greyish-brown  plumage  of  the  wryneck, 
delicately  mottled  and  barred  all  over  with  a  darker 
shade  of  brown,  harmonises  very  closely  with  the 
trunks  of  trees  or  the  bare  earth  on  which  it  spends 
so  much  of  its  time,  and  thus  it  often  eludes  observa- 
tion. 

The  wryneck,  like  its  cousins  the  woodpeckers, 
feeds  almost  exclusively  on  insects  which  it  secures  by 
means  of  the  tongue.  This  wormlike  structure  is 
several  inches  in  length  and  is  hard  and  sharp,  barbed 
at  the  tip  and  covered  elsewhere  with  very  sticky 
saliva.  It  can  be  shot  out  suddenly  to  transfix  the 
bird's  quarry,  and  then  as  rapidly  retracted.  The 
tongue  is  so  long  that  when  retracted  it  coils  up 
inside  the  head.  Although  wrynecks  feed  a  good  deal 
on  trees,  they  are  far  less  addicted  to  them  than 
woodpeckers  are.  The  latter  sometimes  feed  upon 
the  ground,  but  this  is  the  exception  rather  than  the 


THE   COMMON    WRYNECK  123 

rule,  while  with  the  wryneck  the  reverse  holds  good. 
Once,  at  Lahore,  I  nearly  trod  upon  a  wryneck  that 
was  feeding  on  the  ground.  It  flew  from  between 
my  boots  to  a  low  bush  hard  by  ;  then  it  descended 
to  the  ground  and  began  to  feed  in  the  grass.  I  crept 
towards  the  place  where  it  was  feeding,  and  it  did  not 
again  take  to  its  wings  until  I  was  close  up  to  it. 
This  time  it  flew  to  a  branch  of  a  tree  about  ten  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  ground.  I  again  followed 
up  the  wryneck.  This  time  it  allowed  me  to  walk 
right  up  under  it,  and  study  the  dark  cross-bars 
on  its  tail  feathers.  After  a  little  time  it  betook  itself 
to  a  bunker  on  the  golf  hnks,  from  off  which  it  began 
to  pick  insects.  Then  it  flew  to  a  low  bush,  and  from 
thence  dropped  to  the  ground.  I  again  followed  it 
up,  and,  as  I  approached,  it  quietly  walked  away. 
Other  naturahsts  have  found  the  wryneck  in  India 
equally  tame.  Mr.  Blyth  says  of  it  :  "  Instinctively 
trusting  to  the  close  resemblance  of  its  tints  to  the 
situations  on  which  it  alights,  it  will  lie  close  and 
sometimes  even  suffer  itself  to  be  taken  by  the  hand ; 
on  such  occasions  it  will  twirl  its  neck  in  the  most 
extraordinary  manner,  rolling  the  eyes,  and  erecting 
the  feathers  of  the  crown  and  throat,  occasionally 
raising  its  tail  and  performing  the  most  ludicrous 
movements  ;  then,  taking  advantage  of  the  surprise 
of  the  spectator,  it  will  suddenly  dart  off  like  an 
arrow." 

At  most  seasons  of  the  year  the  wryneck  is  a  re- 
markably silent  bird.  I  do  not  remember  ever  having 
heard  one  utter  a  sound  in  India.     When,  however. 


124         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

it  first  arrives  in  England  it  has  plenty  to  say  for  itself. 
*'  In  one  short  season,"  says  an  anonymous  writer 
in  England,  **  we  hear  its  singular  monotonous  notes 
at  intervals  through  half  the  day.  This  ceases,  and 
we  think  no  more  about  it,  as  it  continues  perfectly 
mute  ;  not  a  twit  or  a  chirp  escapes  to  remind  us 
of  its  sojourn  with  us,  except  the  maternal  note 
or  hush  of  danger,  which  is  a  faint,  low,  protracted 
hissing,  as  the  female  sits  clinging  by  the  side  or  on 
the  stump  of  a  tree." 

The  wryneck  is  not  singular  among  birds  in  uttering 
its  note  only  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year.  Very  few 
of  the  song  birds  pour  forth  their  melody  all  the  year 
round.  This  fact  bears  powerful  testimony  to  the 
view  I  have  frequently  enunciated  as  to  the  nature 
of  birds'  song.  There  is  nothing  conversational  in 
it,  nothing  in  the  nature  of  language  ;  it  is  merely 
the  expression  of  superabundant  vitality  which  fills 
most  birds  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year. 

Like  very  many  other  migrants,  the  wryneck  does 
not  appear  to  be  powerful  on  the  wing.  Its  flight 
has  been  well  described  as  "  precipitate  and  awkward." 

The  wryneck  derives  its  name  from  a  curious  habit 
it  has  of  twisting  its  neck  as  it  seeks  for  insects  on 
a  tree-trunk  or  mound. 

Wrynecks  are  very  rarely  seen  in  cages  or  aviaries, 
probably  because  they  are  not  songsters  and  because 
their  habits  are  not  such  as  to  render  them  attrac- 
tive in  an  aviary.  Nevertheless,  wrynecks  thrive  in 
captivity.  Bishop  Stanley  records  an  instance  of  a 
wryneck  which  "  lived  for  a  year  and  a  half   in   a 


THE   COMMON    WRYNECK  125 

cage,  and  never  appeared  to  show  impatience  during 
its  confinement  ;  it  was  observed  always  to  take  its 
food  by  throwing  out  its  long  tongue." 

During  the  winter  the  wryneck  seems  to  visit  all 
parts  of  India,  except  possibly  the  Malabar  coast, 
and  it  is  sufficiently  common  in  South  India  to  have 
a  Tamil  name — Moda  nulingadu. 

The  wryneck  breeds  neither  in  the  plains  of  India 
nor,  I  believe,  in  the  Himalayas,  but  its  nest  has  been 
recorded  in  Kashmir.  It  busies  itself  with  parental 
duties  in  the  summer — in  May  and  June  in  England — 
laying  its  glossy  white  eggs  in  a  hollow  in  a  tree. 
Unlike  the  woodpecker  the  wryneck  does  not  hollow 
out  its  hole  for  itself.  It  is  sensible  enough  not  to 
undertake  that  which  can  be  equally  well  done  by 
others.  In  this  respect,  as  in  so  many  others,  it  differs 
from  the  woodpeckers  proper. 


XXII 
GREEN   PIGEONS 

GREEN  birds  are  comparatively  few  in 
number,  but  nearly  all  of  those  that  do 
exist  are  very  beautiful  objects.  Green 
is  a  coloiu"  which  is  rarely  found  alone 
in  birds.  The  fowls  of  the  air  of  which  the 
plumage  is  mainly  green  almost  invariably  display 
patches  of  other  colour.  In  the  familiar  green 
parrots  red,  pink,  blue,  and  black  occur ;  the 
green  coppersmith  flaunts  the  most  gaudy  hues 
of  red,  crimson,  and  yellow ;  the  emerald  merops 
adorns  itself  with  gold  and  turquoise  ornaments ; 
while  green  pigeons  are  birds  which  display  the  whole 
spectrum  of  colours,  each  in  a  subdued  form.  In 
the  common  Indian  species  the  forehead  is  greenish 
yellow  ;  the  nape  and  sides  of  the  head  French  grey  ; 
the  chin  and  neck  are  old  gold  shading  off  into  olive  ; 
the  body  is  greenish  olive  ;  the  shoulder  is  washed 
with  lilac.  The  primary  wing  feathers  are  dark  grey, 
while  the  secondaries  are  similarly  coloured,  but 
have  pale  yellow  tips.  The  tail  is  slate-coloured, 
becoming  greenish  yellow  at  the  base.  The  feathers 
under  the  tail  are  a  dark  claret  colour  with  creamy 

126 


GREEN    PIGEONS  127 

bars.  The  lower  parts  are  slate-coloured  tinged 
with  green,  save  for  the  feathers  of  the  thigh,  which 
are  canary  yellow.  The  legs  are  orange  yellow. 
The  eye  is  blue,  with  an  outer  ring  of  carmine.  Yet, 
notwithstanding  all  this  show  of  colour,  there  is 
nothing  gaudy  about  the  green  pigeon.  Every  tint 
is  most  delicately  laid  on,  and  each  hue  blends  into 
the  surroundmg  ones  in  a  truly  exquisite  fashion, 
so  that  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  call  the  green  pigeon 
a  vision  of  perfect  loveliness. 

In  the  unlikely  event  of  any  one  taking  the  trouble 
to  compare  the  above  description  with  those  given 
in  the  fauna  of  British  India  for  Crocopus  phcenicopterus 
(the  Bengal  green  pigeon)  and  C.  chlorogaster  (the 
Southern  green  pigeon),  that  person  will  observe 
that  it  does  not  tally  exactly  with  either  of  them. 
Nevertheless,  my  description  is  taken  from  a  specimen 
shot  by  me  in  the  Basti  district  of  the  United  Pro- 
vinces. The  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  in  places  where 
the  Bengal  form  meets  the  southern  species  the 
two  interbreed,  as,  I  believe,  do  all,  or  nearly  all, 
allied  species  at  the  point  of  junction.  And,  in  such 
cases,  the  hybrid  birds  appear  to  be  perfectly  fertile 
and  to  thrive  equally  with  the  parent  species  ;  neither 
of  which  would  be  the  case  were  facts  in  accordance 
with  the  Wallaceian  theory.  But,  as  we  shall  see 
later,  green  pigeons  seem  to  lay  themselves  out  to 
destroy  the  biological  orthodoxy  of  to-day. 

Green  pigeons  appear  to  live  exclusively  on  fruit. 
They  go  about  in  small  flocks,  seeking  out  trees  of 
which  the  fruit  is  ripe ;    when  they  hit  upon  such  a 


128  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

tree  they  behave  as  if  they  were  schoolboys  let  loose 
in  a  tuck  shop  ! 

The  Hindustani  name  for  the  green  pigeon  is  HarriaL 
The  natives,  or  at  any  rate  some  of  them,  assert  that 
the  bird  never  descends  to  the  ground,  because  when 
its  foot  touches  the  earth  the  bird  loses  a  pound  in 
weight,  in  other  words,  shrivels  up  into  nothingness  ! 
If  asked  how  it  drinks,  they  will  reply  that  it  settles 
on  a  reed  which  bends  with  its  weight,  so  that  it  is 
able  to  partake  of  the  water  beneath  without  touching 
the  earth.  In  the  absence  of  a  conveniently  situated 
reed,  the  green  pigeon  overcomes  the  difficulty  by 
carrying  a  twig  in  its  feet.  It  would  be  interesting 
to  discover  the  origin  of  this  story,  which  is  on  a  par 
with  that  which  asserts  that  the  red-wattled  lapwing 
[Sarcogrammus  indicus)  sleeps  on  its  back  with  its 
legs  in  the  air,  in  order  to  be  ready  to  catch  the  sky 
on  its  feet  if  ever  this  should  fall  !  As  a  matter  of 
fact  green  pigeons  are  very  arboreal  in  their  habits. 
I  do  not  remember  ever  having  seen  one  of  them  on 
the  ground. 

The  note  of  the  green  pigeons  is  not  a  coo,  but  a 
pleasant  whistle.  The  birds  are  sometimes  caged 
on  account  of  their  song.  But  they  are  uninteresting 
pets.  In  captivity  they  soon  lose  their  beauty,  because 
they  are  so  gluttonous  as  to  smear  the  head  and  neck 
with  whatever  fruit  be  given  them  to  eat. 

Green  pigeons  are  said  to  be  far  less  obtrusive  in 
their  courtship  than  the  majority  of  their  kind.  The 
male  does  hot  puff  himself  out  after  the  manner  of 
other  cock  pigeons,  but  is  content  to  bow  before  his 


GREEN   PIGEONS  129 

lady  love  and  in  this  attitude  move  his  expanded  tail 
up  and  down. 

There  are  few  birds  that  assimilate  so  closely  to 
their  surroundings  as  green  pigeons.  Fifty  of  them 
may  be  perched  in  a  pipal  tree,  and  a  man  on  the  look- 
out for  them  may  fail  to  detect  a  single  individual 
until  one  of  the  birds  moves.  They  are  thus  excellent 
examples  of  protectively  coloured  birds.  Their  green 
livery  undoubtedly  affords  them  a  certain  amount 
of  protection,  and  so  may  perhaps  be  considered  a 
product  of  natural  selection.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
a  consideration  of  the  details  of  the  colouring  of  their 
plumage  shows  that  many  of  these,  as,  for  example, 
the  lilac  on  the  wing,  are  quite  unnecessary  for  the 
concealment  of  the  bird.  The  eastern  and  the  southern 
species  which  occur  together  in  certain  places  and  the 
hybrids  produced  by  the  interbreeding  of  these  are 
all  equally  difficult  to  distinguish  from  the  surrounding 
leaves,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  their  plumage 
differs  in  details,  e.g.  the  breast  and  the  abdomen 
are  greenish  yellow  in  the  southern  and  ashy-grey  in 
the  eastern  form,  while  there  is  green  in  the  fore- 
head and  tail  of  the  latter,  but  not  of  the  former. 
Thus  we  have  two  species  of  green  pigeon,  of  which 
at  least  one  has  not  originated  by  natural  selection. 
Facts  such  as  these,  however,  do  not  prevent  Dr. 
Wallace,  Sir  E.  Ray  Lankester,  and  Professor  Poulton 
continually  proclaiming  from  the  housetops  that 
every  existing  species  owes  its  origin  to  natural  se- 
lection and  nothing  but  natural  selection  ! 

There  are  several  genera  of  green  pigeons,  and  all  of 

K 


I30         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

them  are  characterised  by  short  legs  and  broad  toes. 
These  are  adaptations  to  the  arboreal  habit,  in  the 
formation  of  which  natural  selection  has,  in  all  proba- 
bihty,  played  an  important  part.  The  habits  of  all 
the  genera  are  identical.  They,  one  and  all,  build 
the  rough-and-ready  shakedowns  which  do  duty  for 
nests  amongst  the  Columhidce.  All  lay  the  inevitable 
two  white  eggs.  Yet  the  sexes  of  the  genus  Crocopus 
are  alike  in  external  appearance,  while  those  of  the 
genera  Osmosteros,  Sphenocercus,  and  Treron  exhibit 
considerable  dimorphism.  Again  in  the  genus  Butreron 
the  sexual  differences  displayed  are  inconsiderable. 
These  facts,  of  themselves,  are  quite  sufficient  to 
disprove  the  theory  that  sexual  dimorphism  in  birds 
is  due  to  the  hen's  greater  need  of  protection.  Cock 
green  pigeons  assimilate  so  well  to  their  leafy  en- 
vironment that  there  cannot  possibly  be  any  necessity 
for  their  wives  to  be  differently  dressed.  Further,  it 
is  worthy  of  note  that  the  most  flourishing  of  the 
genera  of  green  pigeons  is  that  in  which  the  sexes 
dress  alike. 


XXIII 
BULBULS'    NESTS  -I 

IN  May,  1911,  a  pair  of  red-whiskered  bulbuls 
(Otocompsa  emeria)  took  up  their  residence  in 
my  verandah  at  Fyzabad,  that  is  to  say,  they 
spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day  there  in  con- 
structing a  nest  in  a  croton  plant.  The  nest  of  the 
bulbul  is  a  shallow  cup,  formed  of  bast,  roots,  twigs, 
and  grass,  loosely  worked  together.  Sometimes  dead 
leaves,  pieces  of  rag  and  other  oddments  are  woven 
into  the  fabric  of  the  nest.  The  pair  of  bulbuls  of  which 
I  write  did  not,  however,  indulge  in  any  of  these 
luxuries  ;  they  were  content  with  a  rudely  constructed 
nursery.  When  the  nest  was  nearly  complete  the 
owners  deserted  it.  Why  they  acted  thus  I  have  not 
been  able  to  discover. 

The  bulbuls  absented  themselves  for  a  few  days. 
When  they  returned  they  frequented  another  portion  of 
the  verandah,  and  their  fussiness  betrayed  the  fact  that 
they  were  working  at  another  nest.  Several  days  passed 
before  I  found  time  to  look  for  their  nest,  and  I  then 
discovered  it  in  an  aralia  plant  growing  in  the  verandah, 
in  a  large  pot  placed  at  the  right-hand  side  of  one  of 
the  doors  leading  into  my  office  room.  The  site  chosen 
was  the  more  remarkable  in  that  it  was  within  ten  feet 

131 


132  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

of  the  carpet  on  which  the  chaprassis  sit  when  not 
engaged  in  active  work.  This  nest  was  of  even  rougher 
design  than  the  first  one,  and  was  equally  devoid  of 
decoration.  So  carelessly  had  it  been  constructed 
that,  to  use  a  nautical  expression,  it  had  a  distinct 
list.  I  found  in  the  nest  three  pinkish  eggs,  mottled 
and  blotched  with  purplish  red.  They  had  been 
laid  some  time  before  I  first  saw  them.  This  was 
demonstrated  by  the  reluctance  of  the  hen  to  leave 
the  nest  when  I  approached.  Among  birds  the  parental 
instinct  increases  as  incubation  proceeds.  On  one 
occasion  the  bird  sitting  on  the  nest  in  question 
allowed  me  to  stroke  its  tail.  This  organ  projects 
upwards  like  a  semaphore,  the  nest  not  being  sufficiently 
large  to  accommodate  it. 

It  was  not  until  the  15th  July  that  I  had  leisure  to 
watch  these  bulbuls  closely.  Up  to  that  time  I  had 
merely  noticed  that  both  birds  incubate,  and  that 
both  sexes,  and  not  the  cock  alone,  as  some  writers 
assert,  have  the  red  '*  whiskers,"  or  feathers,  on  the 
cheeks. 

The  weather  being  warm,  it  was  not  necessary  for 
the  birds  to  sit  continuously,  and  the  eggs  were  fre- 
quently left  for  ten  minutes  or  longer  at  a  time.  On 
the  morning  of  the  15th  July,  I  found  that  two  of  the 
young  birds  had  hatched  out.  Both  parents  were 
feeding  them. 

Birds  are  creatures  of  habit.  Each  parent  bulbul 
had  its  own  way  of  approaching  the  nest  and  of 
perching  when  tending  the  nestlings,  so  that,  although 
I  was  not  able  to  say  for  certain  which  of  the  pair 


BULBULS'   NESTS— I  133 

was  the  cock  and  which  the  hen,  I  could  distinguish 
one  individual  from  the  other.  For  brevity  I  will 
call  them  A  and  B,  respectively. 

Both  birds,  before  flying  to  the  nest,  used  to  alight 
on  the  stem  of  a  palm  standing  in  the  verandah. 
From  this  point  their  manoeuvres  differed.  Individual 
A  invariably  flew  to  a  stout  vertical  branch  of  the 
aralia,  remained  there  for  a  second  or  two,  flitted  to  a 
second  vertical  branch,  and  from  thence  hopped  on 
to  the  edge  of  the  nest,  so  that  its  face  when  there 
pointed  to  the  east.  This  individual  always  showed 
itself  the  bolder  spirit  of  the  two.  The  other  bird,  B, 
used  to  fly  from  the  palm  to  a  slender  leafy  branch  of 
the  aralia,  and  thus  cause  considerable  commotion 
among  the  leaves ;  from  thence  it  jumped  on  to  the 
edge  of  the  nest,  where  it  perched  with  its  face  pointing 
to  the  north.  The  modus  operandi  of  A  was  the 
superior.  The  verandah  faces  the  east,  so  that  when 
A  wished  to  leave  the  nest,  it  had  but  to  jump  across 
it  into  the  space  beyond,  and  then  wing  its  way  ahead, 
while  B  had  to  turn  round  before  it  could  fly  off.  The 
neatness  and  address  with  which  A  used  to  leap  across 
the  nest  into  the  air  baffles  description. 

The  i6th  July  fell  on  a  Sunday.  I  therefore  deter- 
mined to  devote  some  hours  to  studying  the  ways  of 
those  bulbuls  at  the  nest.  Every  naturalist  has  his 
own  method  of  prying  into  the  ways  of  the  fowls  of  the 
air  or  the  beasts  of  the  field.  Some  expose  themselves 
to  the  Indian  sun  at  midday  in  May,  others  will  squat 
for  hours  in  feverish  swamps.  People  who  do  these 
things  are  worthy  of  all  praise.     I  prefer  less  heroic 


134         GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

methods.  Accordingly,  I  had  the  pot  containing  the 
nest-bearing  plant  moved  a  distance  of  rather  less 
than  a  yard,  so  that  it  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  door- 
way. I  then  had  an  easy  chair  placed  in  the  office  room 
at  a  distance  of  some  four  feet  from  the  nest.  Finally, 
I  removed  such  of  the  leaves  as  tended  to  obstruct 
my  view.  Thus,  I  was  able  to  watch  the  bulbuls  through 
the  chik  in  comfort,  reclining  in  the  easy  chair. 

Both  parent  birds  were  present  when  the  plant  was 
being  moved.  They  looked  rather  alarmed,  but 
raised  no  outcry.  They  did  not  seem  eager  to  approach 
the  nest  after  the  position  of  the  aralia  had  been 
changed.  Evidently  they  did  not  understand  the 
meaning  of  what  they  had  seen.  Eventually  bulbul  A 
summoned  sufficient  courage  to  visit  the  nest,  and 
must  have  been  highly  gratified  to  find  the  two  young- 
sters and  the  egg  safe.  While  perching  on  the  nest  it 
kept  its  eye  on  me,  having  espied  me,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  there  was  a  chik  between  me  and  it. 
While  eyeing  me  it  cocked  its  head  on  one  side  and 
half  opened  its  bill.  The  opening  of  the  bill  is  an 
expression  of  anger.  The  bulbul's  crest  was  also 
folded  back,  but  this  does  not  necessarily  denote 
anger.  The  crest  invariably  assumes  this  attitude 
when  the  bulbul  is  incubating,  or  brooding,  or  feeding 
its  young.  It  was  some  time  before  bulbul  B  could 
bring  itself  to  visit  the  nest.  It  made  at  least  six 
abortive  attempts  before  it  reached  the  edge  of  the 
nest,  and  then  perched  only  for  a  second  before  flying 
off  with  every  sign  of  trepidation.  And  for  the  whole 
of  that  day  it  showed  itself  nervous,  whereas  A  soon 


BULBULS'   NESTS— I  135 

came  quite  boldly  to  the  nest.  The  difference  in 
temperament  between  the  two  birds  was  most  marked. 

The  parent  birds  did  not  come  to  the  nest  with  the 
bill  very  full.  They  were  usually  content  to  bring  one 
succulent  grub  or  insect  at  a  time. 

In  the  earliest  stages  of  their  existence  bulbul 
nestlings  are  so  small  that  one  caterpillar  satisfies  their 
hunger  completely  for  some  little  time.  So  that  it 
often  happened  that  one  of  the  parents  arrived  with 
food  for  which  neither  of  the  young  birds  was  ready. 
Under  such  circumstances,  the  parent,  after  trying 
to  force  the  food  into  the  mouth  of  each  nestling, 
remained  on  the  rim  of  the  nest  waiting  patiently 
until  one  of  the  youngsters  lifted  up  its  head  for  food. 
The  baby  bulbuls  did  not  display  at  this  early  stage 
of  their  existence  that  eagerness  for  food,  amounting 
almost  to  greediness,  that  characterises  nesthngs 
when  they  grow  a  little  older. 

On  arrival  with  food  the  adult  bird  invariably 
uttered  a  couple  of  tinkling  notes  as  if  to  inform  its 
offspring  that  it  had  brought  food.  No  sound  emanated 
from  the  young  birds  during  the  first  two  or  three 
days  of  their  existence.  When  it  had  disposed  of 
the  food  it  had  brought,  the  parent  bird  usually 
looked  after  the  sanitation  of  the  nest  by  picking  up 
and  eating  the  excreta.  The  parent  birds  did  not 
appear  ever  to  bring  water  to  the  nestlings.  The 
succulent  food  probably  supplies  the  requisite  moisture. 
About  midday  on  the  i6th  July  the  third  young  bird 
hatched  out.  The  egg  was  intact  at  10  a.m.,  but  by 
a    few    minutes    after    midday    the    youngster   had 


136         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

emerged,  and  half  the  shell  was  still  in  the  nest. 
Thus  the  latest  arrival  made  his  appearance  at  least 
twenty-eight  hours  after  either  of  his  brethren. 

I  watched  carefully  in  order  to  ascertain  how  the 
parent  birds  got  rid  of  the  egg-shell.  Presently 
bulbul  A  came  to  the  nest  with  food.  When  it  had 
disposed  of  this,  it  began  pecking  in  the  nest,  and 
appeared  to  be  eating  up  the  shell,  but  in  reality  it 
was  cleaning  the  nest.  After  being  thus  engaged  for 
a  couple  of  minutes  it  flew  off,  carrying  the  half  egg- 
shell in  its  beak.  It  flew  to  a  distance  with  this,  so 
that  I  did  not  see  what  became  of  it.  This  explains 
why  broken  egg-shells  are  seldom  found  lying  on 
the  ground  below  a  nest.  On  the  following  day  I 
placed  a  small  piece  of  paper  in  the  nest.  This  was 
carried  off  by  the  first  parent  bird  to  visit  the  nest, 
but  not  before  the  bird  had  fed  its  young.  Shortly 
afterwards  I  placed  a  sheet  of  thick  paper  over  the 
top  of  the  nest  so  as  to  completely  cover  it.  This  non- 
plussed both  parents.  They  made  no  attempt  to 
insert  their  heads  underneath  it,  but  hopped  about 
near  the  nest  looking  very  disconsolate.  I  therefore 
removed  the  obstruction. 

Young  bulbuls  when  first  hatched  out  are  almost 
lost  in  the  nest,  taking  up  very  little  more  room  than 
the  eggs  that  contained  them  ;  but  they  grow  at  an 
astonishing  rate.  By  the  time  the  oldest  was  six 
days  old  the  three  young  birds  almost  filled  the  nest. 
From  the  fourth  day  the  heads  of  the  nestlings  went 
up,  and  the  mandibles  vibrated  rapidly  whenever 
a   parent   approached ;    previously   the   young   birds 


BULBULS'    NESTS— I  137 

did  not  seem  to  hear  the  approach  of  the  old  birds. 
On  the  sixth  day  of  their  existence  the  youngsters 
first  began  to  call  for  food,  and  for  a  time  the  sounds 
they  emitted  were  very  feeble.  On  the  sixth  day 
their  eyes  began  to  open,  the  opening  at  first  being 
a  tiny  slit. 

The  parents  were  not  always  judicious  in  selecting 
food  for  their  babes.  I  saw  a  bulbul  bring  a  large 
insect  with  gauzy  wings  to  a  six-day-old  nestling. 
The  bird  succeeded  in  ramming  about  one-third 
of  it  into  the  gaping  mouth  of  the  young  one.  The 
latter  then  made  frantic  efforts  to  swallow  its  prize. 
After  struggling  for  the  greater  part  of  a  minute  it 
rested  for  a  few  seconds  with  half  an  inch  of  insect 
projecting  from  its  bill.  When  at  last  it  did  succeed 
in  swallowing  it,  the  young  bulbul  fell  back  with 
neck  stretched  out  and  appeared  to  be  in  a  thoroughly 
exhausted  condition. 

A  triple  tragedy  has  now  to  be  related.  Tragedies, 
alas  !  are  very  common  among  the  bulbul  community. 
On  several  occasions  have  I  watched  the  nesting 
operations  of  these  birds,  but  never  yet  have  I  seen 
a  single  young  one  reach  maturity.  When  the  eldest 
of  the  nestlings  was  seven  days  old  I  noticed  that  the 
list  on  the  nest  had  become  very  marked,  and  on 
examining  the  nursery  I  found  it  empty.  I  then  saw 
two  of  the  young  bulbuls  lying  on  the  floor  of  the 
verandah.  The  third  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Having 
rectified  the  position  of  the  nest,  I  replaced  the  two 
nestlings,  which  the  parents  continued  to  feed.  They  did 
not  seem  to  notice  that  one  of  their  babes  was  missing. 


138         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

On  the  following  morning  I  found  the  nest  half 
torn  from  its  holdings,  and  saw  the  two  youngsters 
on  the  earth  near  the  roots  of  the  aralia.  Some  leaves 
were  strewn  on  the  ground.  Apparently  a  cat,  a 
mongoose,  or  other  predaceous  creature  had  attempted 
to  capture  the  parent  bird  during  the  night  when  it 
was  sitting  on  the  nest.  It  had  not  succeeded  in  the 
attempt,  for  both  the  old  birds  were  hale  and  hearty  ; 
nevertheless,  the  fall  had  killed  one  of  the  youngsters. 
I  placed  the  nest  higher  up  in  the  aralia,  in  what  I 
considered  a  safer  situation,  wedging  it  tightly  be- 
tween some  branches,  and  then  replaced  the  remaining 
nestling.  This  the  parents  continued  to  feed,  although 
they  seemed  to  find  the  nest  difficult  of  access  in  its 
new  position.  The  next  morning  I  found  the  young 
bird  alive  and  well  in  the  nest,  but  this  latter  was 
now  a  lower  branch  of  the  aralia,  to  which  it  had 
been  tied  by  string.  Some  officious  chaprassi  had 
doubtless  done  this.  He  had  probably  found  the 
nest  pulled  down  as  I  had  found  it  on  the  previous 
day.  Our  efforts,  however,  were  of  no  avail.  On 
the  following  morning  I  again  found  the  nest  torn 
down,  and  this  time  the  young  bird  was  lying  lifeless 
on  the  ground.  The  parents  were  somewhat  dis- 
consolate, and  hung  about  for  a  little  with  food  in 
their  bills.  But  they  soon  seemed  to  realise  that 
it  was  useless  to  bring  food  to  a  little  bird  that  would 
not  open  its  mouth.  So  they  went  off.  They  are, 
I  believe,  looking  out  for  a  suitable  nesting  site  at 
the  opposite  end  of  my  verandah.  Bulbuls  are  as 
pliilosophical  as  they  are  foolish. 


BULBULS'    NESTS— II  139 


BULBULS'   NESTS— II 


The  simplest  observations  often  bring  to  light 
the  greatest  scientific  truths.  The  force  of  gravity 
was  revealed  to  Sir  Isaac  Newton  by  the  falling  of  an 
apple.  A  kettle  of  boiling  water  gave  the  idea  of 
the  steam-engine  to  James  Watt.  The  watch- 
ing of  bulbuls,  which  are  so  common  in  our  Indian 
gardens  and  verandahs,  suffices,  apart  from  all  other 
evidence,  to  demonstrate  how  erroneous  is  the  ortho- 
dox doctrine  that  the  survival  of  the  fittest  is  the 
result  of  a  struggle  for  existence  among  adult  or- 
ganisms. This  year  (1912)  six  bulbul  tragedies  have 
occurred  in  my  garden,  and  the  year  is  yet  young. 

The  scene  of  one  of  these  tragedies  was  the  identical 
plant  in  which  occurred  the  disaster  described  above, 
which  happened  about  nine  months  ago.  Thus  we 
see  that  among  bulbuls  destruction  takes  place  mostly 
in  the  nest,  whole  broods  being  wiped  out  at  a  time. 
The  same  is,  I  believe,  true  to  a  large  extent  of  other 
species  that  build  open  nests.  There  are  three  critical 
stages  in  the  life  of  a  bird — the  time  when  it  is  defence- 
less in  the  egg,  the  period  it  spends  helpless  in  the  nest, 
and  the  two  or  three  days  that  elapse  after  it  leaves 
the  nest  until  its  powers  of  flight  are  fully  developed. 
When  once  a  little  bird  has  survived  these  dangerous 
periods,  when  it  has  reached  the  adult  stage,  it  is 
comparatively  immune  from  death  until  old  age  steals 
upon  it.  If  zoologists  would  perceive  this  obvious 
truth  there  would  be  an  end  to  nine-tenths  of  the 


I40         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

nonsense  written  about  protective  colouring.  Most 
birds  are  not  protectively  coloured ;  moreover,  if 
they  were  so  clothed  as  to  be  invisible  amid  their 
natural  surroundings  they  would  not  derive  much 
profit  therefrom. 

The  labour  of  the  six-and-twenty  little  bulbuls 
who,  to  my  knowledge,  have  failed  to  rear  their 
broods  has  not  been  lost  altogether,  for  it  has  taught 
me  something  about  their  ways  that  I  did  not  know 
before.  Those  birds  showed  me  how  quickly  they 
are  able  to  build  a  nest. 

Very  few  observations  regarding  the  duration  of 
nest-building  operations  are  on  record.  The  reason 
is  not  far  to  seek.  A  nest  at  the  very  beginning  of 
its  existence  is  difficult  to  discover,  and  if  come  upon 
by  chance  is  not  easy  to  recognise  as  an  incipient 
nursery.  The  nests  we  find  are  usually  complete  or 
in  an  advanced  stage  of  construction. 

I  was  strolling  in  the  garden  about  8  a.m.  on  the 
3rd  March  last,  when  I  noticed  a  bulbul  with  a  leaf 
in  its  bill.  I  saw  the  bird  fly  into  a  small  cypress  bush 
and  then  emerge  therefrom  without  the  leaf.  A  short 
search  sufficed  to  reveal  the  place  in  the  bush  where 
the  leaf  had  been  deposited.  Placed  by  this  leaf  I 
found  another  leaf,  a  small  branch  of  Duranta  with 
some  yellow  berries  attached  to  it,  two  or  three  small 
straws  and  some  cobweb.  These  apparently  had 
been  thrown  haphazard  into  the  bush.  Had  I  not 
seen  the  bulbul  go  into  the  bush  carrying  a  leaf, 
I  should  not  have  suspected  that  these  few  things 
were  the  beginning  of  a  nest,  for  they  had  no  sem- 


BULBULS'   NESTS—II  141 

blance  of  one.  The  bulbuls  could  not  have  been 
working  at  that  nest  for  more  than  half  an  hour 
when  I  discovered  it.  On  my  return  thirty  minutes 
later  to  look  at  it  I  found  that  the  amount  of  material 
collected  had  doubled,  but  the  nest  was  still  without 
any  definite  form ;  it  was  a  mere  conglomeration 
of  rubbish.  The  two  leaves  already  mentioned  had 
dropped  down  nearly  a  couple  of  inches  below  the 
other  material.  The  additional  material  consisted 
of  more  Duranta  twigs  with  berries,  straws,  dried 
grasses,  cobweb,  and  a  piece  of  what  looked  like 
tissue  paper.  Half  an  hour  later  the  rapidly  increasing 
collection  included  a  long  piece  of  worsted,  but  this 
was  not  wound  round  any  of  the  branches.  In  most 
bulbuls'  nests  that  I  have  seen  a  certain  amount  of 
cotton  or  such-like  material  is  used  to  support  the 
cup-like  nest  by  being  bound  to  one  of  the  neighbouring 
branches,  although  cobweb  is  the  chief  means  of 
attaching  the  nest  to  its  surroundings.  In  this  par- 
ticular instance,  however,  the  worsted  was  not  so 
utilised ;  possibly  the  pliable,  upright  branches  of 
the  cypress  did  not  lend  themselves  to  this  kind  of 
attachment.  At  this  time  (9  a.m.)  the  collected 
materials  had  nothing  of  the  shape  of  a  nest,  but  some 
of  the  tiny  twigs  were  entwined  in  the  cypress  branches. 
At  midday,  four  hours  after  I  had  first  seen  the 
nest,  I  was  astonished  to  find  that  it  had  assumed 
a  saucer-like  form.  I  was  not  a  witness  of  the  pro- 
cess whereby  the  original  shapeless  mass  was  made 
to  take  this  shape,  but  my  observations  on  other 
nests   have   convinced   me   that   the   nest   is   shaped 


142  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

entirely  by  the  bird's  body  and  feet.  When  a  bulbul 
brings  material  to  the  nest,  it  drops  this  on  to  what 
has  already  been  collected,  sits  on  it,  and  proceeds 
to  arrange  it  with  its  feet,  which  work  so  vigorously 
as  to  shake  the  whole  plant  in  which  the  nest  is  placed. 
In  the  middle  of  the  process  the  bird  usually  turns  on 
its  axis,  a  right  angle,  and  thus  the  interior  of  the 
nest  becomes  rounded  by  the  bird's  breast.  All  new 
material  is  added  to  the  inside  of  the  nest. 

At  midday,  then,  the  nest  in  question  was  a  shallow 
saucer  composed  chiefly  of  Duranta  and  other  twigs, 
dried  grass,  and  bast.  The  leaves  mentioned  above 
had  fallen  some  way  below  the  nest,  and  the  worsted 
and  tissue  paper  had  been  crushed  into  a  ball  at  one 
side  of  the  nest. 

By  the  evening  more  material,  chiefly  bast  in  bands 
about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  broad,  had  been  added, 
and  the  nest  looked  almost  as  complete  as  some 
bulbuls'  nests  in  which  I  have  seen  eggs.  But  that 
particular  pair  were  evidently  bent  on  building  a 
very  substantial  structure. 

By  8  a.m.  on  the  following  day  the  cup  of  the  nest 
had  grown  deeper,  and  its  walls  had  been  considerably 
thickened.  By  the  evening  of  the  day  the  nest  was 
practically  complete.  On  the  5th  March  the  finishing 
touches  were  put  to  it  in  the  shape  of  a  few  grasses 
and  prickly  stems. 

The  diameter  of  the  completed  nest  is  between 
2 1  and  3  inches.  The  nest  is  rarely  quite  circular. 
It  is  about  2 J  inches  in  depth.  The  length  of  its 
diameter  appears  to  be  determined  by  that  of  the 


BULBULS'   NESTS— II  143 

bird's  body  (exclusive  of  head  and  tail)  which  is  the 
mould  that  shapes  it.  A  bulbul  sitting  in  the  nest 
looks  very  cramped  and  uncomfortable,  with  the 
tail  projecting  vertically  upwards,  the  neck  stretched 
out,  and  the  chin  resting  on  the  rim  of  the  nest.  The 
crest  of  the  sitting  bird  is  folded  right  back. 

On  the  early  morning  of  the  8th  March  the  first  egg 
was  laid.  On  the  9th  a  second  egg  was  deposited.  My 
little  boy,  to  whom  I  had  shown  the  nest,  then  thought 
that  he  would  like  a  couple  of  bulbul's  eggs  poached 
for  his  breakfast,  so,  regardless  of  the  feelings  of  the 
bulbuls,  removed  both  eggs  and  took  them  to  the 
cook  !  As  that  individual  declined  to  cook  them, 
my  little  son  replaced  them,  or  rather  one  of  them, 
for  he  broke  the  other.  On  the  morning  of  the  loth 
a  third  egg  was  laid  and  deposited  in  the  nest  beside 
the  other.  The  usual  clutch  of  Otocompsa  emeria 
is  three.  On  the  morning  of  the  nth  I  found  the  nest 
half  pulled  down  and  empty  and  on  the  ground 
beneath  I  saw  a  few  bulbul's  feathers.  Some  pre- 
daceous  creature,  possibly  a  cat  or  a  mongoose,  had 
seized  the  sitting  bulbul  in  the  night. 

The  above  notes  show  that  a  pair  of  bulbuls  can 
build  a  nest  in  a  couple  of  days.  This  observation 
was  confirmed  by  another  pair  who  constructed 
a  nest  in  my  verandah  on  the  23rd  and  24th  March. 
On  the  22nd  I  noticed  a  pair  of  bulbuls  prospecting 
in  a  croton  plant  near  my  daftar  window  ;  nevertheless, 
although  I  examined  that  plant  carefully,  I  found 
no  traces  of  a  nest.  On  the  next  day,  however,  I 
saw   that   the  nest   had   been   commenced.      During 


144         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

the  three  following  days  I  had  no  leisure  in  which  to 
look  at  the  nest,  but  on  the  28th  I  found  a  bulbul 
sitting  on  three  eggs,  so  that,  as  only  one  egg  per 
diem  is  laid,  the  first  egg  must  have  been  deposited 
on  the  morning  of  the  26th  at  the  latest. 

On  returning  to  my  bungalow  at  about  10.30  p.m. 
of  the  28th,  I  found  some  of  the  servants  collected 
in  the  verandah.  They  showed  me  a  dead  brown  tree 
snake  (Hipsas  trigonata)  which  they  had  killed  in 
the  plant  containing  the  bulbuls'  nest.  The  reptile 
had  evidently  discovered  the  nest  and  crawled  up 
the  stem  of  the  plant.  At  its  approach  the  incubating 
bulbul  had  made  a  great  commotion  which  attracted 
the  notice  of  the  servants.  They  promptly  killed 
the  snake.  On  my  return  the  eggs  were  lying  broken 
on  the  ground,  and  I  was  not  able  to  discover  whether 
the  fluttering  bulbul  or  the  servants  striking  the 
snake  had  caused  their  downfall.  No  further  eggs 
were  laid.  Bulbuls  seem  always  to  desert  a  nest 
when  their  eggs  are  destroyed.  It  is  worthy  of  note 
that  the  snake  attacked  the  nest  in  the  dark,  and  on 
all  other  occasions  on  which  I  have  observed  similar 
tragedies  they  have  been  enacted  at  night.  What, 
then,  becomes  of  the  elaborate  theory  of  protective 
colouration  ? 


XXIV 
NIGHTINGALES   IN   INDIA 

THE  nightingale  shares  with  the  Taj  Mahal 
the  distinction  of  being  an  object  on  which 
every  person  lavishes  high  praise.  All 
who  hear  the  song  of  the  nightingale  go 
into  ecstasies  over  it ;  similarly,  every  human  being 
who  sets  eyes  on  the  Taj  waxes  enthusiastic  at  the 
sight  thereof.  Some  years  ago  a  writer  in  the  Glohe 
stated  that  a  patient  investigator  compiled  a  list 
of  nearly  two  hundred  epithets  bestowed  by  poets 
alone  on  the  nightingale's  song,  and  I  doubt  not  that 
an  equally  patient  investigator  could  compile  an 
equally  long  list  of  adjectives  lavished  on  the  Taj 
Mahal  by  those  who  have  attempted  to  describe 
that  famous  tomb.  The  consequence  is  that  every 
superlative  in  the  English  language  has  been  ap- 
propriated by  some  person,  so  that  he  who  nowadays 
wishes  to  bestow  something  original  in  the  way  of 
praise  on  either  the  nightingale  or  the  Taj  is  at  his 
wit's  end  to  know  what  to  say.  Recently  I  met 
in  a  railway  train  a  Portuguese  gentleman  who  was 
paying  a  visit  to  India.  Needless  to  say,  I  asked  him 
what  he  thought  of  the  Taj .  He  promptly  replied  : 
"  Le  Taj,  ah!  c'est  un  bijou."  I  feel  that  by  way  of 
L  145 


146         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

paying  the  necessary  homage  to  the  nightingale  I 
cannot  do  better  than  repeat  "  cest  un  hijou." 

Ornithologists  assure  us  that  there  are  three  species 
of  nightingale.  There  is  the  Western  nightingale 
(Daulias  luscinia) ,  which  visits  England  in  the  summer 
and  fills  the  woods  with  its  glorious  melody.  Then 
there  is  the  Eastern  species  or  variety  which  is  also 
known  as  the  sprosser  (D.  philomela),  and,  lastly, 
the  Persian  nightingale,  the  hazar-dastan  or  bttlbul 
of  the  Persian  poets.  This  last  variety  is  known  to 
men  of  science  as  Daulias  golzii. 

It  would  puzzle  the  ordinary  man  to  distinguish 
between  these  various  races.  The  length  of  the  tail 
is  one  test.  If  the  nightingale  have  a  tail  well  over 
three  inches  in  length  it  is  the  Persian  form,  if  well 
under  three  inches  it  is  a  Western  nightingale,  and 
if  about  three  inches  a  sprosser.  The  nightingale, 
as  every  one  knows,  is  a  small  bird  varying  from 
6|  to  7|  inches  in  length.  Both  sexes  dress  alike 
and  in  the  plainest  manner  possible,  the  upper  plumage 
being  russet  brown  and  the  lower  pale  buff. 

As  we  have  seen,  one  of  the  Persian  names  of  the 
nightingale  is  "bulbul."  This  has  given  rise  to  con- 
siderable misunderstanding  regarding  the  existence  of 
nightingales  in  India.  Every  one  knows  that  India 
teems  with  bulbuls,  and  as  "bulbul"  is  the  Persian 
for  nightingale,  the  average  Englishman  labours  under 
the  delusion  that  Hindustan  abounds  with  nightingales 
which  fill  the  soft  Indian  night  with  melody,  at  the  time 

"When  mangoes  redden  and  the  asoka  buds 
Sweeten  the  breeze  and  Rama's  birthday  comes." 


NIGHTINGALES    IN    INDIA  147 

Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  Indian  bulbul  has 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  nightingale.  There 
can,  I  think,  be  but  little  doubt  that  the  Persian 
poets  have  misapplied  the  word  "  bulbul  "  in  using  it 
to  denote  the  nightingale.  The  term  "  bulbul  "  is 
familiar  to  every  native  of  India  as  meaning  one  of 
the  Brachypodous  birds  belonging  to  the  genera 
Molpastes,  Otocompsa,  etc.,  and  as  there  are  true 
bulbuls  in  Persia,  one  of  which,  Molpastes  lencotis, 
is  a  good  singer,  it  is  probable  that  the  poets,  who  are 
notoriously  bad  naturalists,  have  misapplied  the 
name  of  this  songster  to  an  even  better  singer,  namely, 
the  nightingale.  And  this  name,  having  been  im- 
mortalised by  Hafiz  and  others,  will  always  remain. 
We  must,  therefore,  be  careful  to  distinguish  between 
the  true  bulbuls,  which  are  not  very  brilhant  singers,  and 
the  nightingale,  which  in  India  is  known  as  the  hulhul 
hostha,  or  hulhul  hasta.  Numbers  of  Persian  nightingales 
are  captured  and  sent  in  cages  to  India,  where  they  are 
highly  prized  on  account  of  their  vocal  powers.  A 
good  singing  cock  will  fetch  as  much  as  Rs.  400  in 
Calcutta.  The  cock  nightingale  alone  sings,  and 
as  he  is  indistinguishable  in  appearance  from  the 
hen,  a  would-be  purchaser,  before  paying  a  long 
price  for  one  of  these  birds,  should  insist  on  hearing 
it  sing.  Nightingales  thrive  in  captivity  if  provided 
with  a  plentiful  supply  of  insect  food.  The  Western 
and  Eastern  forms  have  both  bred  in  captivity,  and 
the  Persian  variety  will  doubtless  do  likewise  if  given 
proper  accommodation. 

Indian   bulbuls,   then,   are  not   nightingales.     Nor 


148  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

are  nightingales  common  in  that  country.  Oates, 
it  is  true,  includes  Daulias  golzii  among  the  birds  of 
India,  but,  in  my  opinion,  on  insufficient  evidence. 
He  admits  that  it  is  of  extreme  rarity  in  the  country, 
"  only  two  instances  of  its  occurrence  being  known." 
Hume,  in  October,  1865,  had  a  Persian  nightingale 
sent  to  him,  which  was  said  to  have  been  procured 
in  the  Oudh  terai.  It  is  probable  that  neither  this 
specimen  nor  the  other  whose  presence  is  recorded 
in  India  was  a  wild  bird  at  all ;  as  likely  as  not  they 
were  caged  birds  that  had  escaped  from  captivity  ! 
The  nightingale  is  certainly  a  very  retiring  bird, 
and  since,  if  it  occurs  in  India,  it  can  be  only  as  a 
winter  visitor  when  it  is  not  in  song,  it  is  possible 
that  it  might  be  overlooked.  But  in  face  of  the  fact 
that  many  good  ornithologists  have  spent  long  periods 
in  Oudh  without  ever  having  seen  a  nightingale, 
and  the  bird  has  never  been  observed  anywhere  else 
in  India,  it  seems  most  improbable  that  nightingales 
ever  stray  into  India.  What,  then,  are  we  to  think 
of  the  statement  of  Dr.  Hartert,  a  German  ornitholo- 
gist, who  says  of  the  Eastern  nightingale  that  *'  it 
winters  in  Southern  Arabia,  parts  of  India  (e.g. 
Oudh)  and  East  Africa  "  ? 

Here  we  have  an  excellent  illustration  of  the 
adage  "  A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,"  a  good 
example  of  how  erroneous  statements  creep  into 
scientific  books.  Dr.  Hartert  has  heard  that  night- 
ingales have  been  recorded  in  Oudh,  so  jumps  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  species  winters  there,  even 
as  it  does  in  Egypt.     This  statement  will  doubtless 


NIGHTINGALES    IN    INDIA  149 

be  copied,  without  acknowledgment,  into  many 
future  text-books,  for  plagiarism  is  very  rife  among 
men  of  science  ;  and  thus  the  popular  notion  that 
nightingales  are  common  in  India  will  be  fortified  by 
scientific  support !  Nightingales  undoubtedly  do  winter 
in  India — but  only  in  cages.  We  have  many  fine 
songsters  in  Hindustan,  but  the  nightingale  is  not  one 
of  them. 


XXV 
THE   WIRE-TAILED   SWALLOW 

WERE  each  species  of  bird  to  record  in 
writing  its  opinion  of  men,  the  resulting 
document  would  certainly  not  be  flatter- 
ing to  the  human  race.  The  inhumanity 
of  man  would  figure  largely  in  it.  The  majority  of  the 
feathered  folk  have  but  little  cause  to  love  their 
human  neighbours.  Men  steal  their  eggs,  destroy 
their  nests,  kill  them  in  order  to  eat  them  or  to  decorate 
women  with  their  plumage,  and  capture  them  in  order 
to  keep  them  in  cages.  A  few  species,  however,  ought 
to  regard  man  with  friendly  eyes,  for  they  owe  much 
to  him.  The  swallow  tribe,  for  example,  must  ac- 
knowledge man  as  its  greatest  benefactor.  Take  the 
case  of  the  common  swallow  {Hirundo  mstica),  the 
joyful  herald  of  the  English  summer,  the  bird  to  which 
Gilbert  White  devotes  a  particularly  charming  letter. 
All  the  places  in  which  this  species  builds  owe  their 
origin  to  human  beings.  The  myriads  of  swallows 
that  visit  Great  Britain  in  the  spring  find  in  the 
chimneys  of  houses  ideal  nesting  places — hence  the 
birds  are  known  as  house  or  chimney  swallows. 

**  The    swallow,"    writes    White,    "  though    called 
150 


THE   WIRE-TAILED   SWALLOW         151 

the  chimney  swallow,  by  no  means  builds  altogether 
in  chimneys,  but  often  within  barns  and  outhouses 
against  the  rafters,  and  so  she  did  in  Virgil's  time  : 

'Ante 
Garrula  quam  tignis  nidos  suspendat  hirundo/ 

"  In  Sweden  she  builds  in  barns,  and  is  called 
ladu  swala,  the  barn  swallow.  Besides,  in  the  warmer 
parts  of  Europe  there  are  no  chimneys  to  houses, 
except  they  are  English-built.  In  those  countries 
she  constructs  her  nest  in  porches  and  gateways 
and  galleries  and  open  halls.  Here  and  there  a  bird 
may  affect  some  odd,  peculiar  place,  as  we  have 
known  a  swallow  build  down  the  shaft  of  an  old  well 
through  which  chalk  had  been  formerly  drawn  up 
for  the  purpose  of  manure  ;  but  in  general  with  us 
this  Hirundo  breeds  in  chimneys,  and  loves  to  haunt 
those  stacks  where  there  is  a  constant  fire,  no  doubt 
for  the  sake  of  warmth.  Not  that  it  can  subsist  in 
the  immediate  shaft  where  there  is  a  fire,  but  prefers 
one  adjoining  to  that  of  the  kitchen,  and  disregards 
the  perpetual  smoke  of  that  funnel,  as  I  have  often 
observed  with  some  degree  of  wonder." 

In  the  days  before  man  began  to  build  substantial 
houses  for  his  habitation,  the  swallows  can  have 
nested  only  in  caverns  and  under  natural  ledges  in 
cliffs,  so  cannot  have  existed  in  anything  like  their 
present  numbers.  Hirundo  rustica  is  a  common  bird 
in  India.  During  the  winter  it  spreads  itself  over 
the  plains,  and  may  be  seen,  as  in  England,  dashing 
through  the  air  after  tiny  insects.     In  the  East  the 


152         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

gentle  twittering  of  the  birds  as  they  propel  themselves 
through  the  air  sounds  doubly  sweet,  since  it  recalls 
scenes  in  our  distant  island.  The  swallows  which 
winter  in  India  migrate  to  the  Himalayas  or  Kashmir 
or  Afghanistan,  where  they  rear  up  their  families. 

But  to-day  I  write  of  a  more  beautiful  bird  even 
than  Hirundo  rusttca,  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
swallow  kind,  of  a  species  on  which  Gilbert  White 
could  not  have  set  eyes.  Like  the  common  species, 
the  wire- tailed  swallow  (Hirundo  smithii)  is  a  glossy, 
steel-blue  bird.  The  forehead,  crown,  and  nape 
are  chestnut,  and  all  the  lower  plumage,  including 
the  chin,  is  white.  In  this  last  respect  it  differs  con- 
siderably from  the  common  swallow,  which  has  the 
chin  and  throat  chestnut,  a  black  pectoral  band, 
and  the  rest  of  the  under  parts  pale  reddish  brown. 
In  both  species  there  is  a  white  spot  on  each  of  the 
tail  feathers,  except  the  median  pair.  These  white 
spots  are  very  conspicuous  when  the  bird  sits  with 
tail  expanded. 

The  chief  characteristic  of  Hirundo  sjnithii  is  the 
great  development  of  the  shafts  of  the  outer  tail 
feathers.  In  most  swallows  the  shaft  is  elongated. 
In  H.  rustica  it  extends  2|  inches  beyond  the  other 
tail  feathers.  In  the  wire-tailed  swallow  the  shaft 
of  each  of  the  outer  tail  feathers  attains  a  length  of 
seven  inches,  and  is  thus  more  than  twice  as  long  as 
the  body  of  the  bird.  This  swallow,  indeed,  looks  as 
though  two  pieces  of  wire  had  been  inserted  into  its 
tail ;  hence  the  popular  name,  which  is  far  more 
appropriate   than   the  scientific   one.     Jerdon   called 


THE   WIRE-TAILED   SWALLOW        153 

this  species  H.  filifera,  an  excellent  name,  but  among 
cabinet  ornithologists  the  excellence  or  appropriateness 
of  a  bird's  name  counts  for  nothing.  Many  years 
ago  a  member  of  the  Smith  family  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  bird,  and  it  was  named  after  him. 
This  name  being  the  oldest  is  the  one  by  which  we 
must  call  the  bird  until  some  bibliophile  manages  to 
unearth  some  yet  earlier  name. 

The  elongated  shafts  of  the  outer  tail  feathers  are 
brittle  and  easily  broken,  so  that  it  is  the  exception 
rather  than  the  rule  to  see  a  bird  with  both  the  delicate 
filiferous  appendages  complete. 

The  habits  of  this  swallow  are  similar  to  those  of 
other  species,*  except  that  it  is  probably  not  migratory. 
It  is  found  all  the  year  round  in  the  plains  of  North- 
West  India.  It  is  rare  in  Lower  Bengal,  Assam, 
Upper  Burma,  and  in  South  India.  Although  it 
occurs  in  the  Madras  Presidency,  it  is  not  often  seen 
as  far  south  as  the  city  of  Madras.  Since  water  is 
always  conducive  to  the  presence  of  the  small  insects 
on  which  swallows  feed,  these  birds  usually  seek  their 
quarry  in  the  vicinity  of  the  liquid  element,  and 
naturally  roost  near  their  feeding  grounds.  This 
fondness  for  the  neighbourhood  of  water  doubtless 
gave  origin  to  the  once  prevalent  belief  that  some 
swallows  did  not  leave  England  in  the  autumn,  but 
remained  behind  and  hibernated  underwater.  This 
idea  is,  of  course,  erroneous. 

Wire-tailed  swallows  like  to  roost  in  considerable 
companies  in  the  minarets  of  mosques  or  in  other 
lofty    towers.      Unlike    swifts,    swallows    frequently 


154         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

perch.  Telegraph  wires  are  a  very  favourite  resting 
place.  When  these  are  not  available  the  birds  will 
settle  on  stones  or  tufts  of  grass. 

As  chimneys  are  scarce  in  the  plains  of  India, 
the  wire-tailed  swallow  has  to  look  elsewhere  for 
nesting  sites.  True  to  the  traditions  of  its  family, 
it  almost  invariably  elects  to  build  on  some  structure 
erected  by  man.  Nine  out  of  ten  nests  are  built  under 
the  arches  of  low  bridges  or  culverts,  preferably  those 
under  which  there  is  a  little  water  lying.  The  nest 
projects  from  the  arch  like  a  little  shelf.  It  resembles 
a  deep  saucer  in  shape,  and  is  composed  of  a  shell  of 
mud,  lined  with  feathers. 

Wire-tailed  swallows  obtain  the  mud  they  use 
from  the  edge  of  water,  and  carry  it  in  the  bill  in 
precisely  the  same  way  as  the  house  martin  does  in 
England.  One  of  the  prettiest  sights  of  a  London 
suburb  is  to  watch  the  house  martins  taking  the 
materials  for  their  nests  from  a  muddy  road,  which 
they  always  contrive  to  do  without  soiling  their 
white-feathered  legs.  Muddy  roads  are  not  common 
in  India,  hence  wire-tailed  swallows  are  not  able  to 
resort  to  them  for  nest-building  materials. 

The  cup  of  the  nest  is  usually  fairly  thick,  especially 
at  the  place  where  the  nest  is  attached  to  its  foundation. 
The  outside  of  the  cup  has  a  rugged  appearance, 
and  each  of  the  projections  which  it  displays  corre- 
sponds to  a  mouthful  of  mud  added  to  it  by  the  bird. 
According  to  Mr.  James  Aitken,  the  birds  occupy 
about  four  weeks  in  building  the  nest,  "  a  narrow 
layer  of  mud  being  added  each  day  and  left  to  dry." 


THE   WIRE-TAILED   SWALLOW        155 

When  once  a  pair  of  wire-tailed  swallows  have 
made  up  their  minds  to  nest  in  a  certain  spot  they 
are  not  easily  deterred  from  carrying  out  their  in- 
tention. Mr.  Aitken  admits  having  on  one  occasion 
removed  two  eggs,  out  of  a  clutch  of  three,  but  the 
little  mother  sat  on  and  hatched  out  the  one  egg 
that  remained.  A  man  of  my  acquaintance,  who, 
although  an  egg  collector,  is  not  altogether  devoid 
of  the  milk  of  kindness,  always  carries  about  with 
him  one  or  two  sparrow's  eggs  which  he  exchanges 
for  the  birds'  eggs  he  wishes  to  add  to  his  collection. 
One  May  day  at  Lahore  this  person  came  upon  a 
wire-tailed  swallow's  nest  which  contained  one  egg. 
This  he  removed,  and  substituted  for  it  a  sparrow's 
egg.  The  owners  of  the  nest  either  did  not,  or  pre- 
tended not  to,  notice  the  exchange,  and  the  hen  laid 
two  more  eggs,  so  that  when  I  visited  the  nest  three 
days  later  I  found  that  two  legitimate  eggs  had  been 
placed  beside  the  spurious  one.  The  incubating  bird 
sat  very  tight,  and  allowed  me  to  touch  her,  and  had 
I  wished  to  do  so  I  could  easily  have  caught  her  ; 
such  is  the  strength  of  the  incubating  instinct  in  some 
birds.  The  nest  in  question  was  built  under  a  low 
arch,  one  end  of  which  was  blocked  up.  The  only 
other  occupants  of  the  arch  were  a  number  of  wasps. 
Birds  seem  to  have  little  or  no  fear  of  wasps.  Indeed, 
it  is  rather  the  wasps  that  fear  the  birds,  which  have 
a  disagreeable  habit  of  swallowing  them,  notwith- 
standing their  sting  and  warning  colouration !  Three 
weeks  later  I  paid  another  visit  to  the  arch  in  question, 
and  found  that  the  swallow's  nest  had  been  removed 


IS6         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

by  some  person  or  persons  unknown,  but  under  the 
same  arch  was  another  nest  containing  two  eggs. 
It  w^ould  seem  that  the  plucky  little  birds,  undaunted 
by  the  fate  of  their  first  nest  and  eggs,  had  quickly 
set  to  work  to  make  good  the  loss. 


XXVI 
WINTER  VISITORS  TO  THE  PUNJAB  PLAINS 

SIX  months  ago  we  welcomed  the  birds  that 
came  to  spend  the  summer  with  us — the 
tiny  iridescent  purple  sunbird,  the  emerald 
bee-eater,  its  larger  blue-tailed  cousin,  the 
golden  oriole,  the  superb  paradise  flycatcher,  the 
yellow-throated  sparrow,  the  solemn  night  heron, 
and  the  noisy  koel. 

These  have  all  built  their  nests,  reared  up  their 
families  (except,  of  course,  the  koels  who  made  the 
crows  do  their  nursemaids'  work)  and  departed.  The 
sunbirds  were  the  first,  and  the  koels  the  last,  to  go. 
By  August  the  former  had  all  disappeared,  but  through- 
out the  first  half  of  October  young  koels  were  to  be  seen, 
perched  in  trees,  flapping  their  wings,  opening  a  great 
red  mouth,  and  making  creditable  but  ludicrous 
attempts  at  cawing. 

Even  the  koels  have  now  gone  and  will  not  reappear 
until  the  sun  once  again  causes  us  human  beings  to 
wonder  why  we  have  come  to  this  "  Land  of  Regrets." 
The  places  left  vacant  by  the  summer  visitors  are 
being  rapidly  filled  up.  Lahore  has  for  birds  a  winter 
as  well  as  a  summer  season.     The  former  is  the  more 

157 


158  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

important  of  the  two.  So  numerous  are  our  winter 
bird  visitors  that  it  is  not  feasible  to  enumerate  them 
in  this  place  ;  we  must  be  content  with  a  ghmpse 
at  those  which  come  in  the  greatest  numbers  and  are, 
therefore,  most  likely  to  attract  attention. 

The  earhest  to  arrive  are  the  rosy  starhngs  (Pastor 
roseus)  or  Gulahi  Mainas,  or  Tilyers  as  the  natives  call 
them.  They  are  easy  to  recognise.  They  go  about  in 
great  flocks.  When  a  flock  settles  on  a  tree  it  is  a  point 
of  etiquette  for  all  the  individuals  that  compose  it  to 
talk  simultaneously.  The  head,  crest,  neck,  throat, 
upper  breast,  wings,  and  tail  are  glossy  black.  The  rest 
of  the  plumage  is  a  beautiful  rose  colour  in  the  adult 
cock  and  pale  coffee  colour  in  the  hens  and  young 
cocks. 

Rosy  starlings  arrive  in  Lahore  as  early  as  July. 
As  they  do  not  leave  us  until  the  end  of  April,  and 
are  supposed  to  nest  in  Asia  Minor,  it  might  be  thought 
that  they  are  the  discoverers  of  some  specially  rapid 
method  of  nest-construction,  egg-incubation,  and  bird- 
rearing.  This  is  not  so.  The  fact  is  they  do  not  migrate 
simultaneously.  The  birds  that  were  in  Lahore  in 
such  numbers  last  April  are  not  those  which  appeared 
in  July.  These  latter  probably  migrated  to  Asia  Minor 
in  February. 

It  is  only  in  the  spring  that  the  rosy  starlings  go 
about  in  very  large  flocks  ;  these  are  the  result  of 
"  packing  "  prior  to  migration.  At  other  times  the 
birds  occur  in  nines  and  tens  and  associate  with  the 
ordinary  mynas,  feeding  either  on  fruit  or  grain. 

They  appear  to  be  the  favourite  game  bird  of  the 


WINTER   VISITORS  159 

native  of  the  Punjab.  They  are  quite  good  to  eat. 
A  charge  of  small  shot  fired  into  a  tree  full  of  them 
brings  down  a  dozen  or  more,  so  that  a  "  crack  "  shot 
is  easily  able  to  secure  a  large  bag  and  brag  about  it 
to  his  friends  ! 

Several  other  species  of  starling  visit  the  plains  of 
the  Punjab  during  the  winter,  arriving  in  November. 
These,  like  the  familiar  English  starling,  are  all  dressed 
in  black,  glossed  with  blue,  green,  and  purple,  and 
spotted  with  white.  The  species-making  propensity  of 
the  professional  ornithologist  has  led  to  the  division  of 
these  into  a  number  of  species,  although  it  requires 
an  expert  with  an  ornithological  imagination  to  dis- 
tinguish them  from  one  another.  They  go  about  in 
flocks  and,  like  the  rosy  starlings,  all  "  talk  at  once." 

The  winter  visitors  that  appeal  most  to  the  sports- 
man are  the  game  birds — the  grey  quail,  the  various 
species  of  duck,  teal,  geese,  and  snipe.  The  quail 
{Coturnix  communis)  are  the  first  to  appear.  They 
arrive  in  Lahore  late  in  August  or  early  in  September. 
It  is  the  moon  rather  than  the  temperature  that 
determines  the  date  of  their  arrival.  They  migrate 
at  night-time  and  naturally  like  to  travel  by  moonhght. 
A  few  grey  quail  remain  with  us  all  the  year  round. 
These  are  probably  birds  that  have  been  wounded 
by  shikaris  and  have  not  in  consequence  sufficient 
strength  for  the  long  migratory  flight  across  the 
Himalayas.  The  fact  that  some  quail  remain  in  India 
throughout  the  hot  weather,  and  are  able  to  breed 
successfully,  shows  that  their  migration  is  a  luxury 
rather  than  a  necessity. 


i6o         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

It  is  a  universal  rule  that  all  migratory  birds  of  the 
Northern  Hemisphere  breed  in  the  more  northerly 
of  their  two  homes.  This  seems  to  indicate  that  they 
were  formerly  permanent  residents  in  the  latter. 
Geology  tells  us  that  thousands  of  years  ago  the  cHmate 
of  this  earth  suddenly  became  colder.  The  result 
was  that  the  more  northerly  portions  of  it  were  ren- 
dered uninhabitable  for  birds  during  the  winter — the 
frost  killed  insect  life  and  the  snow  made  vegetable 
food  difficult  to  procure  ;  hence,  the  birdfolk  were 
confronted  with  the  alternative  of  starving  in  winter 
or  going  south  in  search  of  food.  They  chose  the  latter 
alternative.  So  powerful  is  the  ''homing  instinct" — 
the  instinct  that  man  has  developed  so  wonderfully 
in  the  homer  pigeon — that  these  migrants  invariably 
returned  in  the  summer  to  their  old  homes  for  breeding 
purposes. 

The  cHmate  has  again  become  milder,  so  that  for 
many  migratory  birds  migration  is  no  longer  necessary  ; 
nevertheless,  they  still  perform  the  double  journey 
every  year.  The  force  of  habit  is  strong  in  birds. 
Those  AustraHan  finches  which  are  imported  into 
India,  even  when  kept  in  aviaries  in  the  Himalayas, 
nest  in  December  and  January  as  they  did  in  AustraHa, 
where  these  are  summer  months. 

The  ducks  and  geese  that  visit  the  Punjab  in  winter 
are  too  numerous  to  be  dealt  with  in  this  brief  essay, 
which  of  necessity  is  not  exhaustive.  It  merely  deals 
with  such  of  the  winter  visitors  to  the  Punjab  as  are 
seen  every  day.  Every  winter  Northern  India  is 
invaded  by  millions  of  grey-lag   and  barred-headed 


WINTER   VISITORS  i6i 

geese,  and  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of  brahmany 
ducks,  mallard,  gadwall,  teal,  wigeon,  pintails,  shovellers 
and  pochards.  The  other  game  birds  which  visit  the 
Punjab  in  great  numbers  every  winter  are  the  jack 
and  the  common  snipe. 

The  Indian  redstart  or  firetail  [Ruticilla  rufiventris) 
is  one  of  the  most  striking  of  our  winter  visitors.  No 
one  but  a  blind  man  can  fail  to  notice  the  sprightly 
little  bird  with  St.  Vitus'  dance  in  its  tail.  The  head, 
breast,  neck,  and  back  of  the  cock  are  grey  or  black 
according  to  the  season  of  the  year.  Birds'  clothes 
wear  out  just  as  ours  do.  But  every  bird  is  his  own 
tailor.  When  his  clothes  wear  out,  instead  of  resorting 
to  the  West -End  tailor  or  the  humble  darzi,  he  grows 
a  new  coat.  This  process  is  technically  known  as  the 
moult  and  occurs  at  the  end  of  summer  in  most  birds. 

Each  of  the  feathers  composing  the  coat  of  the  cock 
redstart  is  black  with  a  grey  margin.  When  the 
feathers  are  new  only  the  grey  edges  show,  the  bird, 
therefore,  looks  grey  ;  gradually  the  grey  borders 
become  worn  away,  so  that  the  bird  turns  black. 
The  remainder  of  the  plumage  of  the  cock,  except 
the  two  middle  tail  feathers,  is  brick  red.  The  hen  is 
reddish  brown  where  the  cock  is  black  or  grey.  As 
the  bird  hops  about  in  the  garden  it  looks  very  like 
a  robin,  but  the  moment  it  takes  to  its  wings  it  becomes 
transformed,  as  if  by  magic,  into  a  flash  of  red.  The 
red  of  the  tail  and  back  is  scarcely  visible  when  the 
bird  is  not  flying,  for  the  wings  cover  the  latter  and 
the  tail  is  closed  like  a  fan  ;  the  red  feathers  all  folding 
up  underneath  the  middle  brown  ones  which  act  as  a 

M 


i62         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

cover.  During  flight  the  red  tail  feathers  open  out 
and  the  wings  leave  the  red  back  exposed — hence  the 
sudden  transformation. 

The  redstart  should  be  a  favourite  with  Englishmen, 
because  in  habits  and  appearance  it  resembles  the 
familiar  robin  of  our  country.  The  perverse  Indian 
robin  (Thamnobia  cambayensis),  it  will  be  remembered, 
insists  on  wearing  its  patch  of  red,  as  Phil  Robinson 
hath  it,  on  the  seat  of  its  trousers. 

The  Indian  redstart  arrives  towards  the  end  of 
September.  In  the  autumn  of  1906,  September  22nd 
was  the  date  on  which  I  first  noticed  a  redstart  in 
Lahore.  In  the  following  autumn  I  did  not  see  one 
until  September  27th.  Bird-lovers  of  fixed  abode  in 
India  would  be  rendering  no  small  service  to  ornithology 
if  they  would  record  carefully,  year  after  year,  the  dates 
on  which  they  first  observe  each  of  our  returning 
summer  and  winter  visitors. 

When  the  migrant  wagtails  arrive  we  feel  that  the 
hot  weather  is  really  over.  Three  species  of  wagtail 
are  common  in  Lahore.  One  of  these — the  pied  wagtail 
(Motacilla  maderaspatensis) — is  a  permanent  resident. 
The  other  two — the  white  wagtail  [Motacilla  alba) 
and  the  grey  wagtail  (M.  melanope) — come  to  us  only 
for  the  winter.  The  last  is  easily  distinguished  by  its 
bright  yellow  lower  plumage.  The  white  and  the  pied 
wagtails  are  both  clothed  in  black  and  white,  but 
whereas  the  face  and  throat  of  the  former  are  white, 
the  whole  head  of  the  pied  wagtail  is  black  save  for  a 
white  eye-brow. 

Wagtails  live  almost  entirely  on  the  ground.  Through- 


WINTER   VISITORS  163 

out  the  winter  dozens  of  them  are  to  be  seen  on  the 
gymkhana  cricket  ground,  sprinting  after  tiny  insects, 
and  stopping  after  each  capture  to  indulge  in  a 
little  tail  wagging.  All  three  species  of  wagtail  feed 
exclusively  on  insects,  so  that  the  migration  in  this 
case,  as  in  that  of  the  quail  and  of  many  other  birds, 
is  obviously  due  to  the  force  of  habit. 

Another  winter  visitor  that  cannot  fail  to  attract 
attention  is  the  white-eared  bulbul  {Molpastes  leucotis), 
a  bird  loathed  by  the  gardener  on  account  of  the 
damage  it  does  to  buds. 

Two  species  of  bulbul  are  abundant  in  Lahore  : 
this  one  and  the  Punjab  red- vented  bulbul  [Mol- 
pastes intermcdius) .  The  latter,  like  the  poor,  is  always 
with  us,  while  the  form^er  shakes  the  dust  of  Lahore 
off  its  feet  and  departs  when  the  weather  becomes  hot. 
The  permanent  resident  has  a  red  patch  under  its  tail 
and  a  black  head  and  crest,  while  the  migrant  wears 
yellow  under  the  tail  and  has  white  cheeks. 

The  family  of  birds  of  prey  furnishes  us  with  a 
large  number  of  winter  visitors.  Those  most  likely  to 
be  seen  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Lahore  are  the  steppe 
eagle,  the  long-legged  buzzard,  the  sparrow  hawk, 
the  peregrine  falcon,  the  kestrel,  and  the  merlin.  It 
must  not  be  thought  that  all  our  Indian  birds  of  prey 
are  migrants.  A  number  of  species  remain  in  the  plains 
throughout  the  hot  weather  to  vex  the  souls  of  their 
weaker  brethren.  Curiously  enough,  there  is  among 
the  permanently  resident  raptores  a  counterpart,  a 
nearly  allied  species — I  might  almost  say  a  "  double  " 
— of  nearly  every  migrant.    The  tawny  eagle  (Aquila 


i64         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

vindhiana)  and  the  steppe  eagle  {A.  hifasciata)  are  so 
alike  that  some  authorities  are  inclined  to  regard 
them  as  a  single  species.  But  the  former  lives  in  the 
plains  all  the  year  round  and  breeds  in  and  about 
Lahore,  while  the  steppe  eagle  goes  to  the  hills  in  the 
hot  weather  to  breed,  and  appears  quite  unable  to 
endure  heat.  The  one  caught  at  Wazirabad  in  the 
cold  weather  of  1906-7  and  confined  in  the  local 
"  Zoo  "  died  comparatively  early  in  the  hot  weather, 
whereas  the  tawny  eagle,  kept  in  the  same  cage,  has 
all  along  flourished  like  the  green  bay  tree.  The 
shikra  (Astur  badius)  and  the  sparrow  hawk  {Accipiter 
nisus),  although  ornithologists  now  place  them  in 
different  genera,  are  so  much  alike  that  it  is  easy  to 
mistake  one  for  the  other,  yet  the  former  is  a  perma- 
nent resident  while  the  latter  is  a  migrant.  Similarly 
the  peregrine  falcon  (Falco  peregrinus)  is  a  winter 
visitor  to  the  plains  of  the  Punjab,  while  its  cousin  the 
laggar  {Falco  jugger)  is  a  permanent  resident.  In  the 
same  way  the  Tummti  or  red-headed  merlin  abides 
with  us  all  the  year  round,  while  the  common  merlin 
(Aesalon  regulus)  visits  us  only  in  winter. 

Almost  the  only  raptorial  winter  visitor  that  has 
not  a  cousin  who  lives  in  the  plains  throughout  the 
year  is  the  kestrel  {Tinnunculus  alaudarius),  the  bird 
known  in  England  as  the  Windhover.  This  is  perhaps 
the  easiest  to  identify  of  all  the  birds  of  prey,  on  account 
of  its  habit  of  hovering  on  vibrating  wings,  like  the 
pied  kingfisher,  high  in  the  air,  over  a  spot  where  it 
thinks  that  there  is  quarry  in  the  shape  of  some  small 
rodent.     If  the  surmise  be  correct  the  kestrel  drops 


WINTER   VISITORS  165 

like  a  stone  and  seizes  its  quarry  in  its  talons  ;  if  it 
sees  nothing  it  sweeps  away  with  a  few  easy  movements 
of  its  powerful  wings  and  hovers  elsewhere.  The  only 
other  bird  of  prey  that  hovers  like  the  kestrel  is  the 
black- winged  kite  {Elamcs  caerulus).  This  is  mainly 
white  and  so  cannot  be  confounded  with  the  kestrel. 

The  explanation  of  the  fact  that  one  species  of  bird 
of  prey  leaves  the  plains  in  the  hot  weather,  while  a 
nearly  related  species  remains,  may  perhaps  be  found 
in  the  nature  of  their  food.  Birds  of  prey  are  to  a 
greater  or  lesser  extent  specialists  ;  while  quite  ready 
to  devour  any  small  bird,  reptile,  or  mammal  which 
comes  their  way,  they  lay  themselves  out  more  es- 
pecially to  catch  one  particular  species,  and  if  that 
species  migrates  it  follows  that  the  bird  that  preys  upon 
it  will  also  migrate.  Thus  the  peregrine  falcon  lays 
itself  out  to  catch  ducks  and  naturally  goes  with  them 
to  their  breeding  grounds,  just  as  the  hawker  of  cheap 
wares,  who  preys  upon  the  mem-sahib,  follows  her  to 
the  hills  in  the  summer. 

In  conclusion  mention  must  be  made  of  the  Corvi 
which  visit  us  in  winter.  The  arch-corvus,  the  grey- 
necked  rascal  (Corvas  splendens),  of  course,  abides 
with  us  all  the  year  round.  The  raven,  too,  is  to  be 
seen  at  all  times  of  the  year,  but  is  more  abundant  in 
the  cold  weather  than  in  the  hot.  During  the  summer 
months  we  see  comparatively  few  ravens  ;  in  the  winter 
they  are  exceedingly  numerous.  Every  evening 
towards  sunset  a  long  stream  of  them  may  be  observed 
flying  in  a  westerly  direction  to  the  common  roosting 
place.    There  is  a  similar  stream  of  crows  that  flies  in 


i66         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

a  north-westerly  direction.  The  rook  (Corvus  fru- 
gilegus)  is  a  permanent  resident  of  Kashmir  and  the 
North- Western  Himalayas,  but  in  mid-winter  many 
individuals  are  driven  by  the  cold  into  the  Frontier 
Province  and  the  Punjab  ;  some  come  as  far  south  as 
Lahore,  where  they  consort  with  the  crows.  If  the 
winter  is  a  severe  one  large  numbers  of  rooks  come  to 
Lahore,  otherwise  these  birds  are  not  very  numerous. 
The  same  applies  to  the  jackdaw  [Corvus  monedula), 
but  he  never  comes  in  such  numbers  as  the  rook.  There 
is  in  the  octagonal  bird  house  in  the  Lahore  **  Zoo  " 
a  compartment  in  which  there  is  a  "  Happy  Family  " 
of  ravens,  rooks,  and  jackdaws,  with  an  Australian 
crow-shrike  and  a  Nicobar  pigeon  to  keep  them 
company.  Thus  every  one  who  cannot  already  do 
so  may  learn  to  identify  the  various  Corvi  which  visit 
Lahore  in  the  winter. 


XXVII 
A    KINGFISHER    AND    A    TERN 

NEARLY  every  village  in  India  has  its 
pond  which  becomes  filled  with  water 
during  the  monsoon  and  grows  drier  and 
drier  during  the  winter  and  hot  weather. 
The  pond  is  usually  a  natural  depression,  sometimes 
enlarged  and  deepened  by  human  agency.  Occa- 
sionally a  village  is  situated  on  the  edge  of  a  lake, 
or  jkil,  but  such  fortunate  villages  are  few  and  far 
between  ;  the  average  hamlet  has  to  be  content  with 
a  small  tank.  This  morning  I  came  upon  such  a  tank, 
in  which  the  water  had  become  low,  leaving  a  wide 
margin  of  mud  between  it  and  the  artificially  made 
bank.  At  one  end  a  couple  of  people  were  squatting. 
Mirahile  dictu,  there  was  not  a  paddy  bird  to  be  seen, 
and  the  only  feathered  creature  disporting  itself 
along  the  edge  was  a  grey  wagtail.  In  mid  pond  four 
domestic  ducks  were  feeding.  A  tern — the  Indian 
river  tern  {Sterna  seena) — was  busy  at  the  tank,  flying 
gracefully  over  the  water  and  dipping  into  it  every  few 
seconds.  Judging  from  the  frequency  with  which  the 
bird  dived,  the  water  must  have  teemed  with  food, 
but  there  were  no  signs  of  fish  rising,  so  that  how  the 

167 


i68         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

eye  of  the  tern  was  able  to  penetrate  the  very  muddy 
water  is  a  mystery.  However,  the  tern  did  manage 
to  distinguish  its  quarry,  for,  although  its  movements 
were  so  rapid  that  I  was  not  able  to  discover  what  it 
was  catching,  I  could  see  distinctly  that,  when  rising,  it 
carried  something  tiny  in  its  bill. 

Terns  are  especially  addicted  to  pieces  of  water  that 
are  rapidly  drying  up,  for  under  such  conditions  they 
find  the  creatures  upon  which  they  prey  literally 
josthng  one  another.  After  the  water  has  been  run 
off  from  a  canal,  dozens  of  terns  congregate  at  each 
hollow  in  the  canal-bed  in  which  water  lies. 

The  tern,  when  it  plunges  after  its  quarry,  takes  great 
care  not  to  wet  its  wings.  Its  habit  is  to  drop  from  a 
height  of  about  twenty  feet  head  foremost .  In  the  course 
of  the  plunge  the  head  and  body  are  often  submerged, 
but,  I  think,  never  the  wings  ;  during  the  operation, 
these  are  held  almost  vertically.  So  assiduously  was 
this  tern  plying  his  profession  that  he  made  thirty 
dives  in  about  six  minutes. 

While  he  was  thus  employed  a  pied  kingfisher 
(Ceryle  nidis)  appeared  on  the  scene  and  took  up  a 
position  on  one  of  three  neem  trees  that  grew  beside 
the  tank.  After  sitting  thus  for  a  few  seconds,  he  too 
began  to  seek  for  food.  Save  that  both  he  and  the 
tern  drop  from  a  height  of  about  twenty  feet  into  the 
water  after  their  quarry,  there  is  but  little  similarity 
between  their  movements.  The  tern  sails  gracefully 
along  on  pinions  which  move  but  slowly,  while  the 
kingfisher  flies  a  little  way,  then  remains  stationary  in 
the  air  for  a  few  seconds  on  rapidly  vibrating  wings, 


A   KINGFISHER   AND   A   TERN         169 

with  both  tail  and  bill  pointing  downwards,  so  that  the 
shape  of  the  bird  is  an  inverted  V  with  the  apex  at 
the  neck.  It  then  either  dives  or  passes  on  to  another 
spot  where  it  again  hovers.  Frequently  it  makes  as 
if  it  were  going  to  dive,  then  seems  to  change  its  mind, 
for  it  checks  itself  during  its  drop  and  passes  on. 

When  the  kingfisher  was  hovering  in  the  air,  the 
tern  approached  and  looked  as  though  he  were  going 
to  attack  him.  However,  he  contented  himself  by 
skimming  past  very  close  to  the  "  pied  fish  tiger." 
This  appeared  to  disconcert  the  latter,  who  went  back 
to  the  neem  tree  and  rested  there  for  a  few  minutes. 
Meanwhile,  the  tern  flew  away.  The  moment  he  had 
departed  the  kingfisher  renewed  his  piscatorial  efforts 
and  took  up  a  position  about  twenty  feet  above  the 
water  almost  directly  over  the  spot  where  the  ducks 
were  floating.  I  thought  this  rather  foolish  on  the  part 
of  the  kingfisher,  because  the  ducks  must  necessarily 
scare  away  all  the  fish  from  that  part  of  the  water. 
However,  the  little  fisherman  possessed  more  sense  than 
I  gave  him  credit  for.  He  had  not  been  hovering  for 
thirty  seconds  when  he  plunged  into  the  water  and 
emerged  with  a  large  object  in  his  bill.  With  this  he 
flew  to  the  muddy  border  of  the  pond.  Then,  by  means 
of  my  field  glasses,  I  saw  that  his  quarry  consisted  of 
a  frog  about  two  and  a  half  inches  long  including  the 
legs.  The  kingfisher  experienced  some  little  diificulty 
in  swallowing  the  frog.  He  had  it  crosswise  in  his  beak 
and  the  problem  that  confronted  him  was  to  get  the 
frog  lengthwise  head  foremost  in  his  bill  without 
releasing  the  nimble  little  amphibian  and  thus  giving 


I70         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

it  a  chance  of  escape.  After  a  little  manoeuvring  the 
kingfisher  got  the  frog  in  the  desired  position,  and, 
having  held  it  thus  for  a  few  seconds,  swallowed  it. 

Then  the  kingfisher  remained  squatting  on  the 
bank  for  a  couple  of  minutes  looking  pensive.  This 
was  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at,  seeing  that  as  regards 
size  the  frog  bore  to  him  the  same  relation  as  a  large 
mackerel  does  to  a  man.  I  was  interested  to  see 
whether  the  kingfisher  would  consider  this  a  sufficient 
meal,  or  whether  he  would  immediately  resume  his 
fishing  operations.  I  expected  him  to  adopt  the  latter 
course,  for  birds  have  most  voracious  appetites.  If 
horses  were  to  eat  in  the  same  ratio  they  would  require 
at  least  a  maund  of  oats  per  diem  to  keep  them  in 
health  !  My  surmise  was  correct.  In  a  few  seconds 
the  kingfisher  flew  to  a  large  stake  projecting  from  the 
water  and  squatted  there,  cocking  up  his  tail  at  frequent 
intervals.  This  motion  of  the  tail  is  possibly  an  aid  to 
digestion  !  When  he  was  thus  seated,  the  tern  re- 
appeared on  the  scene  and  at  once  recommenced 
fishing  in  the  manner  already  described.  After  the 
tern  had  been  fishing  for  a  couple  of  minutes  the  king- 
fisher resumed  operations  and  again  sought  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  ducks.  He  soon  captured  a  second 
frog  ;  but  this  time,  instead  of  being  able  to  bear  it 
to  the  bank  and  devour  it  in  peace,  he  had  to  reckon 
with  the  tern.  He  had  not  risen  a  yard  above  the 
water  when  the  tern  noticed  that  he  had  quarry.  Forth- 
with the  tern  committed  a  breach  of  the  tenth  com- 
mandment and  then  proceeded  to  try  to  violate  the 
eighth.    He  made  a  swoop  at  the  kingfisher,  which  the 


A   KINGFISHER   AND   A   TERN         171 

latter  adroitly  dodged,  squeaking  loudly  but  without 
dropping  the  frog.  Then  ensued  a  chase  which  was  a 
sight  for  the  gods.  As  regards  pace  on  the  wing  the 
kingfisher  is  no  match  for  the  tern.  In  an  aerial 
contest  the  slower  flier  has  the  advantage  of  being  able 
to  twist  and  turn  more  quickly  than  the  rapid  flier. 
Of  this  advantage  the  kingfisher  availed  itself  to  the 
full,  so  that  the  contest  waxed  fast  and  furious,  the 
combatants  moving  in  a  series  of  curves,  zigzags, 
circles,  and  other  geometrical  figures. 

The  kingfisher,  notwithstanding  that  he  had  just 
swallowed  a  frog,  evidently  had  not  the  least  intention 
of  delivering  up  his  catch.  The  tern  appeared  equally 
determined  to  capture  it.  Seeing  that  he  would  never 
be  able  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  prowess  while  he 
remained  at  the  tank,  the  kingfisher  changed  his 
tactics  and  flew  right  away,  disappearing  behind  some 
trees,  with  the  tern  in  pursuit.  The  latter,  however, 
did  not  follow  far.  He  seemed  suddenly  to  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  honesty  is  the  best  policy,  and  returned 
to  the  pond  to  endeavour  to  secure  food  in  a  more 
legitimate  manner.  I  waited  on  for  about  half  an  hour, 
expecting  to  see  the  kingfisher  reappear,  but  was  dis- 
appointed. Then  the  tern  went  to  seek  pastures  new, 
and  left  the  ducks  and  a  solitary  wagtail  in  possession 
of  the  tank. 


XXVIII 

THE   RED  TURTLE   DOVE 

INSECTS  and  birds,  on  account  of  the  vast 
number  of  species  they  present,  furnish  the 
best  available  material  for  the  study  of  evo- 
lution. It  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  most  Pro- 
fessors of  Zoology  are  neither  entomologists  nor 
ornithologists  that  biological  science  is  in  its  present 
deplorably  backward  condition.  There  exists  scarcely 
a  zoological  theory,  be  it  neo-Lamarckian  or  neo- 
Darwinian,  that  the  competent  ornithologist  is  not 
able  to  refute.  For  example,  writing  of  sexual  di- 
morphism in  animals,  Cunningham  states  that  in  the 
case  of  birds  which  exhibit  such  dimorphism  the  cocks 
differ  essentially  in  habits  from  the  hens,  and  in 
this  way  he,  as  a  Lamarckian,  would  account  for 
their  external  differences.  "  The  cocks  of  common 
fowls  and  of  the  PhasianidcB  generally,"  he  writes, 
"  are  polygamous,  fight  with  each  other  for  the  posses- 
sion of  females,  and  take  no  part  in  incubation  or 
care  of  the  young,  and  they  differ  from  the  hens  in 
their  enlarged  brilliant  plumage,  spurs  on  the  legs, 
and  combs,  wattles,  or  other  excrescences  on  the  head. 
In  the  CohimhidcB,  per  contra,  the  males  are  not  poly- 

172 


THE    RED   TURTLE   DOVE  173 

gamous,  but  pair  for  life,  the  males  do  not  fight,  and 
share  equally  with  the  females  in  parental  duties. 
Corresponding  with  the  contrast  of  sexual  habits  is 
the  contrast  of  sexual  dimorphism,  which  is  virtually 
absent  in  the  Coltimbidce." 

Mr.  Cunningham  evidently  is  not  acquainted  with 
the  red  turtle  dove  {(Enopopelia  tranqeharica)  so 
common  in  India,  or  he  would  not  have  asserted  that 
sexual  dimorphism  is  virtually  absent  in  the  Columhidcs. 
The  sexes  in  this  species  are  very  different  in  appear- 
ance, and  I  know  of  nothing  peculiar  in  its  habits 
to  explain  this  dissimilarity.  The  sexual  dimorphism 
displayed  by  the  red  turtle  dove  is  a  fact  equally 
awkward  for  the  Wallaceians,  because  the  habits 
of  this  species  appear  to  be  in  no  way  different  from 
those  of  the  other  doves.  I  have  seen  red  turtle  doves 
feeding  in  company  with  the  three  other  common 
species  of  Indian  dove  ;  they  eat  the  same  kind  of 
food,  build  the  same  ramshackle  nests,  and  lay  the 
usual  white  eggs.  But  I  will  not  spend  time  in  whipping 
a  dying  horse.  The  poor  overburdened  beast  which 
we  call  Natural  Selection  has  done  yeoman  service  ; 
for  years  he  has  pulled  the  great  car  of  Zoology  along 
the  rugged  road  of  knowledge,  and  now  that  he  is 
past  work,  now  that  he  stands  tugging  impotently 
at  the  traces,  it  is  time  to  pension  him  and  replace 
him  by  a  new  steed.  Unfortunately,  the  drivers  of 
the  coach  happen  to  be  old  gentlemen,  so  old  that 
they  fail  to  perceive  that  the  coach  is  at  a  standstill. 
They  believe  that  they  are  still  travelling  along  as 
merrily  as  they  were  in  Darwin's  time.    Ere  long  their 


174         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

seats  will  be  occupied  by  new  drivers,  who  will  give 
the  good  steed  Natural  Selection  a  well-earned  rest, 
and  replace  him  by  a  fresh  animal  called  Mutation. 
Then  once  again  the  coach  will  resume  its  journey. 

The  red  turtle  dove  is  a  little  bird,  and  the  hen 
looks  like  an  exceptionally  small  specimen  of  the  ring 
dove.  So  great  is  the  resemblance  that  a  hen  red 
turtle  dove  was  shown  at  the  United  Provinces  Ex- 
hibition at  Allahabad  as  a  ring  dove.  The  cock  red 
turtle  dove  has  a  pretty  grey  head,  a  black  half-collar 
running  round  the  back  of  his  neck,  which,  as  Jerdon 
remarks,  is  "  well  set  off  by  whitish  above,"  while 
the  remainder  of  his  upper  plumage  is  dull  brick  red. 
The  hen  is  clothed  in  greyish  brown,  in  the  hue  known 
as  dove  colour,  and  her  one  ornament  is  a  black  half- 
collar  similar  to  that  of  the  cock. 

The  best  friends  of  turtle  doves  can  scarcely  main- 
tain that  they  have  melodious  voices.  Phil  Robinson, 
writing  of  the  species  which  visits  England,  contrasts 
its  note  with  the  "  mellow  voluptuous  cooing  of  the 
ring-dove."  "  The  call  of  the  turtle  dove,"  he  says, 
**  is  unamiable,  usually  grumbling,  and  often  ab- 
solutely disagreeable.  To  the  imagination  it  is  a 
sulky  and  discontented  bird,  perpetually  finding  fault 
with  its  Enghsh  surroundings  of  fohage,  weather, 
and  food.  '  Do,  for  goodness'  sake  get  those  eggs 
hatched,  my  dear,  and  let  us  get  back  to  Italy.'  That 
is  the  burden  of  his  grumble,  morning,  noon,  and 
night." 

Phil  Robinson's  opinion  of  the  call  of  the  red  turtle 
dove  is  not  on  record  :    this  is  unfortunate,  for,  as- 


THE    RED   TURTLE   DOVE  175 

suredly,  it  would  be  a  document  worthy  to  be  placed 
side  by  side  with  Mr.  Lloyd  George's  invective  against 
the  House  of  Lords  ! 

To  describe  the  note  of  the  turtle  dove  as  a  coo 
would  be  to  violate  the  truth.  It  is  a  sepulchral  grunt, 
the  kind  of  sound  one  might  expect  of  a  ring  dove 
suffering  from  an  acute  sore  throat.  The  only  other  bird 
which  makes  a  noise  in  any  way  resembling  the  call 
of  the  turtle  dove  is  an  owl  that  makes  itself  heard 
in  India  shortly  after  the  shades  of  night  have  fallen. 
To  what  species  this  owl  belongs  I  know  not,  for  it 
is  no  easy  matter  to  fix  on  the  owner  of  a  voice  heard 
only  after  dark,  and  the  descriptions  of  the  cries 
of  the  various  owls  given  in  ornithological  works  are 
anything  but  illuminating.  The  owl  in  question  is, 
I  think,  the  brown  fish  owl  {Ketupa  ceylonsis),  but  of 
this  I  am  not  certain. 

The  red  turtle  dove  occurs  throughout  India,  but, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  other  species  of  dove,  its  distri- 
bution appears  to  be  capricious.  It  is  a  permanent 
resident  in  the  United  Provinces,  and,  possibly,  in 
South  India,  although  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  it 
goes  north  to  breed.  Of  this  I  am  not  sure.  It  never 
does  to  be  sure  of  anything  connected  with  doves  ; 
they  are  most  unreliable  birds.  To  give  a  concrete 
instance.  Having  lived  for  two  years  at  Lahore, 
and  having  seen  any  number  of  red  turtle  doves 
there  during  the  hot  weather,  but  not  even  the  shadow 
of  one  in  the  cold  season,  I  was  rash  enough  to  assert 
in  a  scientific  journal :  "  There  is  no  doubt  that  this 
species  is  merely  a  summer  visitor  to  Lahore."     As 


176         GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

if  to  stultify  me,  some  red  turtle  doves  took  into 
their  heads  to  remain  on  in  Lahore  during  the  following 
winter,  and  at  the  end  of  September,  when  they  ought 
to  have  been  far  away,  a  pair  of  them  were  hatching 
out  eggs.  On  the  27th  of  that  month  Mr.  Currie  found 
a  nest  containing  three  fresh  eggs.  The  laying  of 
three  eggs  was  an  additional  piece  of  effrontery  on 
the  part  of  the  lady  turtle  dove,  and  she  was  rewarded 
by  having  them  captured  by  Mr.  Currie.  As  every  one 
knows,  two  is  the  correct  number  of  eggs  for  a  re- 
spectable pair  of  doves.  I  have  found  dozens  of  doves' 
nests,  but  have  never  seen  more  than  two  eggs  in 
any  of  them.  Two  is  the  normal  number  for  the  red 
turtle  dove,  but  this  species  has  a  trick  of  occasionally 
laying  three,  and  so  would  seem  to  be  departing  from 
the  traditions  of  the  family  in  the  matter  of  egg- 
laying. 

As  regards  architecture,  it  has  not  made  any  ad- 
vances on  the  vulgar  herd  of  doves.  Its  nursery 
is  the  typical  slight  structure  over  which  so  many 
ornithologists  have  waxed  sarcastic — a  few  slender 
sticks,  or  pieces  of  grass,  or  both,  so  loosely  and 
sparsely  put  together  that  the  eggs  can  generally 
be  spied  from  below  through  the  bottom  of  the 
nest.  Hume  states  that  he  has  always  found 
the  nest  at  or  near  the  extremities  of  the  lower 
branches  of  very  large  trees,  at  heights  of  from 
eight  to  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground.  My  experi- 
ence agrees  with  Hume's  in  that  the  nests 
are  placed  in  tall  trees,  but  all  those  that  I  have 
observed   have   been   situated   high   up   in   the   tree 


THE   RED  TURTLE   DOVE  177 

at  a  level  not  less  than  twenty  feet  above  the  ground. 
Mr.  Currie  states  that  the  nests  he  found  at  Lahore 
in  May  and  June  were  also  in  high  trees,  forty  or  fifty 
feet  from  the  ground,  but  that  the  nests  which  he 
found  in  August  and  September  of  the  individuals 
who  elected  to  winter  at  Lahore  were  placed  in 
bushes  or  low  trees,  and  were  not  more  than  twelve 
feet  above  the  earth,  one  of  them  being  at  an  elevation 
of  but  four  feet. 


XXIX 
BIRDS   IN  THE  MILLET  FIELDS 

THE  fields  of  hajra,  or  giant  millet,  which 
in  late  autumn  or  early  winter  form  so 
conspicuous  a  feature  of  the  landscape  of 
Northern  India,  are  a  never-failing  source 
of  amusement  to  the  naturalist,  because  they  are 
so  attractive  to  the  feathered  folk.  Were  the  bird 
visitors  asked  why  they  came  to  the  hajra,  they  would 
doubtless  reply,  if  they  could  speak,  that  the  attrac- 
tion was  the  insects  harboured  by  the  crops.  And 
the  majority  would  be  telling  the  truth.  But  there 
are,  alas,  some  who  come  for  a  less  useful  purpose, 
that  of  abstracting  the  grain.  Let  us  deal  first  with 
the  avian  black  sheep.  Of  these,  the  buntings  are 
the  most  numerous,  unless  the  particular  field  happens 
to  be  within  a  mile  of  a  village  ;  in  that  case,  of 
course,  the  sparrows  outnumber  them.  On  Passer 
domesticiis  I  have  not  leisure  to  dwell.  It  must  sufiice 
that  he  eats  and  twitters  and  squabbles  to  his  heart's 
content  all  day  long,  and  generally  enjoys  himself  at 
the  expense  of  the  cultivator. 

The    buntings    merit    more    attention.      They    are 
aristocratic  connections  of  the  sparrow.     They  need 

178 


BIRDS    IN    THE    MILLET   FIELDS       179 

no  introduction  to  the  Englishman,  for  of  their  clan 
is  the  yellow-hammer,  the  little  bird  that  sits  on  a 
fence  and  calls  cheerily  "  A  little  bit  of  bread  and  no 
che-e-e-se."  Like  other  grain-eating  birds,  buntings 
possess  a  stout  bill — not  a  coarse  beak  like  that  of 
the  bullfinch  or  even  of  the  sparrow,  but  a  powerful, 
conical,  sharply  pointed  instrument  with  which  they 
are  able  to  extract  grain  from  the  ear  and  then 
husk  it  preparatory  to  swallowing  it.  A  peculiarity 
of  the  bill  of  the  bunting  is  that  the  upper  and  lower 
mandibles  do  not  come  into  contact  along  their  whole 
length,  but  are  separated  in  the  middle  by  a  gap 
which  gives  the  beak  the  appearance  of  having  been 
used  to  crack  grain  too  hard  for  it. 

Fifteen  species  of  bunting  visit  India.  I  am  not 
going  to  attempt  to  describe  all  these,  for  two  excellent 
reasons.  The  first  is  that  no  one  would  read  my 
descriptions,  and  the  second  is  that  I  have  never 
set  eyes  upon  several  of  the  Indian  buntings.  Three 
species,  however,  are  very  abundant,  and  one  fairly 
so,  in  Northern  India,  during  the  cold  weather.  Bunt- 
ings are  not  often  seen  south  of  Bombay.  As  they  find 
plenty  of  grain  in  northern  latitudes,  there  is  no 
necessity  for  them  to  penetrate  into  the  tropics. 
The  grey-necked,  the  red-headed  and  the  black- 
headed  are  the  three  commonest  species.  The  grey- 
necked  bunting  {Emberiza  huchanani)  is  an  ashy- 
brown  bird  with  a  reddish  tinge  in  its  lower  plumage, 
and  a  whitish  ring  round  the  eye.  It  is  a  bird  that  is 
apt  to  pass  unnoticed  unless  looked  for.  This  perhaps 
explains  why  Gates  wrongly  states  that  the  species 


i8o         GLIMPSES    OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

is  not  found  east  of  Etawah.  The  cock  red-headed 
bunting  (E.  luteola)  is  a  handsome  bird,  nor  has 
the  hen  any  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  her  appearance, 
whatever  the  ladies  of  the  other  species  may  say. 
The  wings  and  tail  of  the  cock  are  greenish  brown. 
His  head  is  a  beautiful  old-gold  colour,  while  his 
rump  and  lower  parts  are  bright  yellow.  In  the 
hen  the  colouring  is  everywhere  more  subdued.  In 
the  cock  black-headed  bunting  {E.  melanocephala) 
the  feathers  that  adorn  the  head  are  black  with  a 
grey  border,  so  that  the  head  looks  grey  when  the  bird 
first  reaches  India  in  the  autumn,  but  grows  blacker 
as  the  grey  edges  of  the  feathers  become  worn  away. 
The  back  and  shoulders  are  rich  chestnut,  the  wings 
and  tail  are  brown,  the  cheeks  and  lower  plumage 
rich  yellow.  The  hen  is  brownish  with  dull  yellow 
under  parts,  and  a  bright  yellow  patch  under  the 
tail.  This  species,  which  might  at  a  casual  glance 
be  mistaken  for  a  weaver  bird  (Ploceus  bay  a),  is  very 
abundant  on  the  Bombay  side,  where,  to  quote  "  Eha," 
it  "  about  takes  the  place  of  the  yellow-hammer  at 
home,  swarming  about  fields  and  hedges,  and  singing 
with  more  cheer  than  music." 

The  fourth  species  of  bunting  has  been  promoted 
to  a  different  genus  because  it  boasts  of  a  conspicuous 
crest,  not  unlike  that  of  the  crested  lark  {Galerita 
cristata).  Its  scientific  name  is  Melophus  melanicterus , 
and  its  non-scientific,  or  popular,  or  vulgar  name  is 
the  crested  bunting.  The  cock  is  a  greyish  black 
bird  with  russet-brown  wings.  The  hen  is  a  dark 
brown  bird.     This  is  said  to  be  a  resident  species  in 


BIRDS    IN   THE   MILLET   FIELDS       i8i 

the  plains,  whereas  the  other  three  are  migratory. 
Otherwise  its  habits  are  very  like  those  of  the  ordinary 
buntings.  These  birds  spend  the  day  in  the  fields. 
As  they  live  in  the  midst  of  plenty  they  enjoy  much 
leisure.  This  they  employ  perched  on  a  head  of 
millet  making  a  joyful  noise.  Sometimes  one  will 
be  sitting  thus  on  a  particular  stalk  when  a  friend 
will  fly  up,  drive  him  from  his  position,  and  in  turn 
hold  forth,  only  to  be  playfully  ousted  by  another 
of  his  comrades.  Verily  the  life  of  a  bunting  is  a 
jolly  one. 

Like  rosy  starlings,  the  buntings  are  not  very  much 
in  evidence  until  they  begin  to  collect  in  huge  flocks 
preparatory  to  leaving  India  for  the  hot  weather. 
Then  it  is  impossible  to  miss  seeing  them.  At  that 
season  golden  corn  takes  the  place  of  millet  in  the 
fields.  Heavy  is  the  toll  which  the  buntings  levy 
on  the  ripening  grain.  When  disturbed,  they  take 
refuge  in  the  nearest  tree,  and  the  moment  the  fear 
of  danger  is  past  they  are  back  again  in  the  field. 
Hence  Jerdon  calls  them  corn  buntings. 

The  other  black  sheep  of  the  hajra  field  are  the 
rosy  starlings  [Pastor  roseus)  and  the  green  parrots 
{PalcBornis  torquatus).  For  noisiness  and  destructive- 
ness  these  are  a  pair  of  species  hard  to  beat. 

Having  considered  the  sinners,  it  now  behoves 
us  to  turn  to  the  saints.  Fortunately  for  the  long- 
suffering  ryot,  the  latter  outnumber  the  former; 
the  majority  of  the  avian  habitues  of  the  millet  field 
come  for  the  sake  of  the  insects  which  are  so  abundant 
in   this   particular   crop.     The   most   conspicuous   of 


i82         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

these  is  the  Indian  roller  {Coracias  indica),  who  uses 
the  heads  of  the  millet  as  convenient  perches  whence 
he  can  descend  upon  his  quarry.  It  is  not  by  any 
means  every  millet  stalk  that  is  sufficiently  stout  to 
support  so  weighty  a  bird,  and  it  is  amusing  to  watch 
a  **  blue  jay  "  try  in  vain  to  find  a  perch  on  several 
successive  heads,  on  each  occasion  almost  losing  his 
balance.  For  this  reason  the  roller  always  selects  for 
his  watch-tower  a  castor-oil  plant,  when  any  of  these 
are  interspersed  among  the  millet. 

King-crows  are  always  in  force  on  the  millet  field, 
but  is  there  any  spot  in  India  where  they  are  not  in 
force  ?  They,  like  the  roller^  use  the  heads  as  resting 
places  whence  to  secure  their  quarry,  but  they  take 
it  in  the  air  in  preference  to  picking  it  from  off  the 
ground. 

On  the  highest  stalk  of  the  field  sits  a  butcher  bird, 
still  and  grim,  waiting  for  a  victim.  Though  he  is 
small,  you  cannot  fail  to  notice  him  on  account  of 
his  conspicuous  white  shirt  front.  As  a  rule,  there 
are  no  thorny  bushes  in  the  vicinity  of  the  millet 
field,  so  that  here  he  must  devour  his  food  without 
spitting  it  on  a  thorn. 

Every  millet  field  is  visited  by  flocks  of  mynas — 
bank,  pied,  and  common  mynas — with  now  and  then 
a  starling.  These,  I  believe,  visit  the  field  mainly  for 
insects  ;  but  I  would  not  like  to  assert  that  they  do 
not  sometimes  pilfer  the  grain.  In  any  case,  they  are 
a  cheery  crowd,  and  without  them  the  bajra  fields 
would  not  be  the  lively  spots  they  are.  Mention  must 
also  be  made  of  the  Indian  bush  chat  {Pratincola  maura) 


BIRDS    IN   THE   MILLET   FIELDS      183 

— most  unobtrusive  of  little  birds.  The  hen  is  dressed 
in  reddish  brown,  and,  when  apart  from  her  lord  and 
master,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  distinguish  her  from 
several  other  lady  chats,  unless,  of  course,  the  observer 
be  so  ungallant  as  to  shoot  her.  The  upper  parts  of 
the  cock  are  reddish  brown  in  winter,  black  in  summer. 
There  is  a  large  patch  of  white  on  each  side  of  the 
neck.  The  breast  is  orange  red,  the  lower  parts 
russet  brown.  But  what  with  the  young  cocks  as- 
suming gradually  the  full  adult  plumage,  and  the 
adults  changing  from  the  plumage  of  one  season  to 
that  of  the  next,  no  two  of  these  birds  seem  to  be 
exactly  ahke.  The  bush  chats  feed  upon  the  small 
insects  that  live  on  the  millet  plants. 

Lastly,  mention  must  be  made  of  various  species 
of  pipits  and  warblers,  who  feed  on  insects  down  in 
the  depths  of  the  millet  field. 

Such,  then,  are  the  principal  of  the  dramatis  personce 
of  the  gay  little  scene  that  is  enacted  daily  in  the 
millet  field.  But,  stay — I  have  forgotten  a  very  im- 
portant class  of  personages — the  birds  of  prey.  In 
India  these  are,  of  course,  very  numerous,  and  many 
of  them,  more  especially  the  harriers,  habitually 
hunt  over  open  fields,  gliding  on  outstretched  wings 
a  few  yards  above  the  crops,  ready  to  swoop  down 
upon  any  creature  that  has  failed  to  mark  their  ap- 
proach. Great  is  the  commotion  among  the  birds 
in  the  millet  when  a  harrier  appears  on  the  scene. 
The  voices  of  the  smaller  birds  are  suddenly  hushed, 
and  their  owners  drop  on  to  the  ground,  where  they 
are   hidden   from   view   by   the   crop.     The   mynas, 


i84         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

uttering  harsh  cries  of  anger,  take  to  their  wings  and 
fly  off  to  right  and  to  left  of  the  path  of  the  harrier, 
as  though  they  were  soldiers  performing  a  manoeuvre. 
Thus  the  bird  of  prey  flies  over  a  field  which  is  ap- 
parently devoid  of  living  creatures.  But  long  before 
he  is  out  of  sight  the  little  birds  have  again  come  to 
the  surface,  the  mynas  have  returned,  and  all  are 
feeding  as  merrily  as  before.  So  cautious  are  the 
smaller  birds  that  even  a  dove  flying  overhead  causes 
them  to  drop  into  the  depths  of  the  crop.  They  do 
not  wait  to  see  the  nature  of  the  living  object — to  do 
so  might  mean  death. 

It  may  perhaps  be  thought  that,  if  birds  are  thus 
in  constant  fear  of  being  devoured,  their  life  must 
be  fraught  with  anxiety.  Far  from  it.  Birds  know 
not  what  death  is.  Instinct  teaches  them  to  avoid 
birds  of  prey,  but  they  probably  enjoy  the  sudden 
dash  for  cover.  The  smaller  fry  appear  to  look  upon 
the  raptorial  bird  in  much  the  same  light  as  children 
regard  the  "  bogey  man."  For  some  unknown  reason, 
they  are  afraid  of  him,  but  at  the  same  time  he  affords 
them  a  certain  amount  of  amusement. 


XXX 

HOOPOES    AT    THE    NESTING    SEASON 

UK-UK-UK — soft  and  clear  ;  uk-uk-uk — 
gentle  and  monotonous  pipes  the  nodding 
hoopoe  with  splendid  pertinacity  through- 
out the  month  of  February.  This  is 
the  prelude  to  nesting  operations.  From  mid- February 
till  mid-March  hoopoes'  eggs  to  the  number  of  several 
millions  are  laid  annually  in  India.  During  the 
months  of  March  and  April  considerably  over  a  million 
hoopoes  emerge  from  the  egg.  In  Northern  India 
during  the  month  of  April  it  is  scarcely  possible  to 
find  an  adult  hoopoe  who  is  not  employed  from  sunrise 
to  sunset  in  digging  insects  out  of  the  ground  with 
feverish  haste  and  flying  with  them  to  the  holes  in 
which  the  youngsters  are  calling  lustily. 

But  let  me  begin  at  the  beginning.  Ordinarily  the 
Indian  hoopoe  {Upupa  indica)  is  as  sedate  and  prim 
as  a  maiden  lady  of  five-and-fifty  summers.  At  the 
season  of  courtship  the  hoopoes  cast  aside  their  prim- 
ness to  some  extent.  But  even  at  that  festive  time 
the  cock  does  not,  like  the  king-crow  and  the  roller, 
disturb  the  whole  neighbourhood  by  his  noisy  love 
songs.    In  his  wildest  moments  his  voice  is  never  loud. 

185 


186         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

Sometimes  he  chases  his  mate  on  the  wing,  and  then 
the  pair  of  lovers  perform  the  most  wonderful  gyra- 
tions, twisting,  turning,  and  doubling  with  greater 
rapidity  and  ease  than  the  most  mobile  butterfly. 
The  chase  over,  the  birds  descend  to  the  ground  and 
remain  motionless  for  a  little.  Then  the  cock — it  is 
impossible  to  distinguish  the  sexes  by  outward  appear- 
ance, but  it  is  the  custom  to  attribute  all  matrimonial 
advances  to  the  cock,  hence  I  say  the  cock — opens 
out  his  beautiful  cinnamon-and-black  corona  and 
runs  rapidly  along  the  ground.  The  lady  of  his  choice 
pays  no  attention  whatever  to  his  display. 

Mark  this  statement,  gentle  and  ungentle  readers  ! 
Mark  it  with  a  black  mark,  because  it  is  an  example 
of  that  horrid  heterodoxy  of  mine  which  causes  the 
worthy  reviewers  of  a  number  of  influential  and 
highly  respectable  newspapers  to  indulge  at  inter- 
vals in  much  gnashing  of  teeth  and  to  roar  with 
impotent  rage.  The  orthodox  view  is,  of  course,  that 
the  lady  only  pretends  that  she  does  not  see  the  display 
of  the  cock  ;  in  reality  she  is  watching  it  carefully 
out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye,  and  is  thoroughly  appre- 
ciating it.  Says  she  to  herself  (according  to  the 
orthodox  view),  "My  eye!  Hasn't  John  James  got 
a  magnificent  crest  !  But  I  must  not  let  him  know 
that  I  think  it,  otherwise  he  will  suffer  from  swelled 
head  and  be  positively  unbearable  to  live  with  !  " 

The  orthodox  would  have  us  believe  that  the  lady 
hoopoe  is  a  consummate  actress.  She  may  be.  But, 
I  submit  that  the  burden  of  proof  is  on  those  who  make 
such  assertions.     If  the  hen  looks  as  though  she  is 


HOOPOES  AT  THE  NESTING  SEASON  187 

taking  no  notice,  it  is  proper  to  assume  that  she  is 
taking  no  notice  until  we  can  prove  that  this  assump- 
tion is  incorrect.  Now,  I  submit  that  it  is  not  possible 
to  adduce  one  jot  or  tittle  of  proof  of  the  hen's  alleged 
pretence.  All  the  evidence  goes  to  show  that  the  hen 
bird  really  does  not  notice  the  display  of  the  cock. 
I  ask,  why  should  the  hen  dissimulate  ?  Why  should 
she  show  without  hesitation  her  feelings  on  all  occa- 
sions that  call  for  a  display  of  feeling  except  this  one  ? 
I  ask  again,  even  if  the  hen  does  notice  the  display 
of  the  cock,  has  she  any  sense  of  beauty  ?  Is  it  likely 
that  a  bird,  which  lays  its  eggs  in  a  dirty  dark  hole  and 
squats  in  that  hole  for  a  fortnight  until  it  stinketh  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  be  perceptible  to  the  Indian 
coolie,  appreciates  the  beauty  of  the  corona  of  the 
cock  or  of  the  bold  black-and-white  markings  on  his 
wings  ?  I  decline  to  attribute  to  the  hen  hoopoe  all 
the  wiles  of  a  human  coquette.  But,  grant  that  she 
does  possess  them.  What  of  the  cock  ?  Is  he  supposed 
to  see  through  them  ?  If  not,  why  does  he  display  his 
beauties  to  a  lady  who  appears  persistently  to  refuse 
to  notice  them  ?  I  submit  that  the  orthodox  view  of 
the  nuptial  display  is  totally  wrong.  The  cock  does 
not  try  to  show  off,  nor  does  his  display  win  him  a 
mate.  At  the  breeding  season  the  sight  of  the  hen 
excites  him,  and  his  excitement  shows  itself  in  the 
form  of  dance,  of  the  erection  of  certain  feathers,  or  of 
song.  Even  as  a  man's  joy  often  finds  expression  in 
song  or  dance,  so  does  the  pleasure  of  a  bird.  A 
fighting  dove  often  goes  through  the  antics  we  asso- 
ciate with  courtship.     These  antics  are  merely  the 


i88         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

expression  of  excitement,  and  not  made  deliberately 
to  attract  a  hen  or  alarm  an  enemy. 

So  much  for  conjecture.  Let  us  now  turn  to  facts. 
The  hoopoe  usually  lays  its  eggs  in  a  hole  in  a  tree  or 
a  building  ;  on  rare  occasions  only,  in  a  crevice  of  a 
rock  or  under  a  large  stone.  The  most  approved 
nesting  site  is  a  roomy  cavity,  as  dark  and  dirty  as 
possible,  with  a  very  small  opening  leading  to  the 
world  without. 

I  have  no  wish  to  exaggerate,  and  I  believe  that  I 
am  understating  facts  when  I  say  that  I  have  seen 
more  than  fifty  hoopoes'  nests. 

These  have  all  been  in  cavities  in  trees  or  buildings 
opening  to  the  exterior  by  a  very  small  aperture. 
I  think  I  may  safely  assert  that  forty-nine  out  of 
every  fifty  hoopoes'  nests  are  in  such  situations.  I 
emphasise  this  point  in  order  to  demonstrate  the  kind 
of  nonsense  that  finds  its  way  into  English  periodicals. 
In  the  issue  of  the  Fortnightly  Review  for  February, 
1912,  an  article  by  Mr.  Philip  Oyler  appeared  entitled 
"  Colour  Meanings  of  some  British  Birds  and  Quad- 
rupeds." 

Mr.  Oyler  is  a  disciple  of  that  eccentric  artist, 
Mr.  Abbot  Thayer,  who  imagines  that  all  birds  and 
beasts  are  invisible  in  their  natural  surroundings. 

Mr.  Oyler's  article  in  the  Fortnightly  Review  is 
composed  chiefly  of  erroneous  statements,  wild  guesses, 
and  absurd  interpretations  of  facts.  The  climax  of 
nonsense  is  reached  by  Mr.  Oyler  when  he  writes  about 
the  hoopoe : — 

**  As  it  nests  in  hollow  stems,   and  hollow  stems 


HOOPOES   AT  THE   NESTING  SEASON   189 

mean  decay,  there  is  invariably  fungus  on  those  stems. 
And  how  wonderfully  the  hoopoe's  white  copies  them, 
and  how  wonderfully  the  black  represents  shadows  ; 
and  then  again,  in  addition  to  colouration,  is  a  crest 
to  help  break  the  outline." 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  not  visited  India 
I  may  state  that  in  the  greater  part  of  the  plains  the 
trunks  of  old  trees  are  not  covered  with  fungus. 
Practically  every  hoopoe  nests  in  a  place  completely 
hidden  from  the  outer  world.  If  the  hen  hoopoe  were 
coloured  with  all  the  colours  of  the  spectrum  she 
would  while  sitting  on  her  eggs  be  invisible  from  the 
outer  world.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  people  exist  who 
can  bring  themselves  to  write  such  nonsense  as  Mr. 
Oyler  has  inflicted  on  the  readers  of  the  Fortnightly 
Review. 

It  is  said  that  a  pair  of  hoopoes  uses  the  same  nest 
year  after  year.  I  have  not  been  able  to  verify  this 
statement  owing  to  the  demands  on  my  peripatetic 
capacity  made  by  the  exigencies  of  the  public  service. 

The  eggs  of  the  hoopoe  are  elongated  ovals  of  a  dirty 
white  colour ;  euphemists  describe  them  as  dingy 
olive-brown  or  green,  while  euphuists  portray  them 
as  having  a  delicate  greyish  blue  tint.  They  are 
devoid  of  markings. 

The  clutch  is  said  to  contain  from  four  to  seven 
eggs.  This  is  another  assertion  which  I  have  never 
attempted  to  verify,  because  in  order  to  reach  the 
eggs  of  the  hoopoe  one  has  usually  to  pull  down  part 
of  a  wall  or  other  edifice  and  at  the  same  time  wreck 
the  nest.     However,   I   can  say  that   I  have  never 


190         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

observed  more  than  two  young  hoopoes  emerge  from 
a  nest,  and  on  several  occasions  I  have  noticed  that 
only  one  issued  forth. 

As  concrete  instances  are  more  interesting  than 
generalities  I  propose  in  what  follows  to  give  an  account 
of  the  nesting  operations  of  a  pair  of  hoopoes  that 
recently  reared  up  a  youngster  in  a  chink  in  the  wall 
of  my  verandah  at  Fyzabad  between  a  wooden  rafter 
and  the  brickwork.  The  cavity  in  question  was  so 
situated  that  I  could  see  its  orifice  as  I  sat  at  my 
dressing  table.  I  noticed  for  the  first  time  a  hoopoe 
bringing  food  to  the  nest  on  the  17th  March.  The 
food  brought  appeared  to  consist  chiefly  of  caterpillars. 
Whenever  the  bird  arrived  at  the  nest  it  uttered  a  soft, 
pretty,  tremulous  coo-coo-coo.  This  was  to  inform  its 
mate  that  it  had  come. 

The  hen  hoopoe  is  said  not  to  leave  the  nest  from 
the  time  she  begins  to  incubate  until  the  young  emerge 
from  the  eggs.  This  statement  is,  I  beheve,  correct. 
It  is  not  one  that  can  be  very  easily  verified  because 
the  sexes  are  alike  in  outward  appearance.  Certain 
it  is  that  the  hen  sits  very  closely  and  the  cock  con- 
tinually brings  food  to  her. 

As  soon  as  the  young  are  hatched  out  the  hen  leaves 
the  nest  and  assists  the  cock  in  finding  food  for  the 
baby  hoopoes.  I  cannot  say  on  what  day  the  particular 
hen  whose  doings  are  here  recorded  left  the  nest.  April 
9th  was  the  first  date  on  which  I  noticed  both  birds 
feeding  the  young.  At  that  period  the  parents  were 
bringing  food  faster  than  the  occupant  of  the  nest 
could  dispose  of  it,  and  one  or  other  of  them  had  often 


HOOPOES  AT  THE   NESTING  SEASON  191 

to  wait  outside  with  something  in  the  beak  until  the 
nestling  was  ready  to  receive  it.  At  that  time  I  had 
no  idea  how  many  young  birds  were  inside  the  nest. 
The  chink  that  led  to  it  was  too  narrow  to  admit  of  the 
insertion  of  one's  hand.  It  was  not  until  the  young 
bird  emerged  that  I  discovered  that  only  one  nestling 
had  been  reared. 

While  the  parent  was  thus  waiting  outside  with  a 
succulent  caterpillar  hanging  from  its  bill,  it  used  to 
utter  its  call  uk-uk-uk.  Sometimes  while  one  bird  was 
thus  waiting  the  other  would  appear.  Then  the  first 
bird  would  transfer  the  quarry  to  its  mate,  and  the 
latter  would  either  devour  it  or  wait  outside  the  nest 
with  the  morsel. 

Most  birds  when  they  feed  their  young  collect 
several  organisms  in  the  beak  between  the  visits  to 
the  nest.  Not  so  the  hoopoe  ;  it  brings  but  one  thing 
at  a  time,  which  it  carries  at  the  extreme  tip  of  the  bill. 
The  reasons  for  this  departure  from  the  usual  practice 
are  obvious.  The  long  bill  of  the  hoopoe,  like  that  of 
the  snipe,  is  a  probe  to  penetrate  the  earth.  During 
this  operation  any  food  already  in  the  bill  would  be 
torn  and  damaged.  Moreover,  if  the  hoopoe  were  to 
carry  the  food  to  the  nest  in  the  angle  of  the  beak  as 
most  birds  do,  it  would  be  difficult  to  transfer  this  to 
the  long  bill  of  the  young  bird.  Hence  it  comes  to 
pass  that  hoopoes  visit  their  nestlings  a  very  great 
number  of  times  in  the  course  of  the  day. 

When  young  hoopoes  emerge  from  the  egg  they  are 
silent  creatures,  but  before  they  are  many  days  old 
they  begin  to  welcome  with  squeaks  the  arrival  of  the 


192  GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

parents  with  food.  The  older  the  young  birds  grow  the 
more  vociferous  they  become. 

Like  the  majority  of  birds  that  nestle  in  holes, 
hoopoes  with  young  display  but  little  fear  of  man. 
The  nest  of  which  I  write  was  situated  over  the  door 
of  the  pantry,  where  servants  work  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  day.  The  hoopoes  did  not  seem  to  object 
at  all  to  the  presence  of  the  servants,  but  they  took 
great  exception  to  my  arrival.  Whenever  I  came  upon 
the  scene  the  parent  hoopoes  used  to  greet  me  with 
a  harsh  chur  uttered  with  crest  folded  back  and  tail 
expanded. 

One  day  a  corby  (Corvus  macrorhynchus) ,  who 
doubtless  had  done  to  death  many  a  promising  nest- 
ling, alighted  on  a  table  placed  in  the  verandah  outside 
the  pantry.  The  hoopoes  were  furious  at  the  intrusion. 
They  took  up  positions,  to  right  and  to  left  of  the  crow, 
at  a  safe  distance,  and  scolded  it  with  great  vehemence. 
The  crow  took  no  notice  whatever  of  this  hostile 
demonstration.  After  a  little  one  of  the  hoopoes  flew 
to  the  ground,  and  from  there  continued  its  abuse  of 
the  crow.  Then,  while  waiting  to  regain  its  breath, 
it  expanded  its  crest  and  repeatedly  bobbed  its  head 
so  that  the  tip  of  the  bill  almost  touched  the  ground. 
This  bowing  performance  is  evidently  an  expression 
of  great  excitement.  I  have  seen  doves  behaving  in 
a  similar  manner  in  the  midst  of  a  fight,  and  also  when 
courting.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  case  of  what  is 
usually  considered  to  be  showing  off  or  display  to  the 
female,  taking  place  at  a  time  when  a  bird  is  very 
angry.     The  hoopoe  in  question  was  not  showing  off 


HOOPOES  AT  THE  NESTING  SEASON   193 

either  to  the  crow  or  to  its  mate  ;  it  was  assuredly  no 
time,  **  no  matter  for  his  swelhngs  nor  his  turkey 
cocks." 

On  the  25th  April  the  young  hoopoe  began  to  call 
even  when  its  parents  were  not  at  the  nest.  Each 
time  they  brought  food  it  uttered  a  series  of  squeaks 
much  like  those  that  emanate  from  a  cycle  pump  when 
air  is  being  pumped  through  it  into  a  nearly  fully 
inflated  tyre.  By  this  time  the  young  bird  had 
developed  to  such  an  extent  that  when  a  parent 
arrived  it  would  push  its  head  through  the  aperture 
of  the  nest  hole. 

On  the  26th  April  the  young  bird  left  the  nest. 
Assuming  that  the  17th  March  was  the  day  when  the 
hen  began  to  sit,  we  find  the  young  bird  emerging 
from  the  nest  forty  days  later.  It  is,  however,  im- 
probable that  I  noticed  the  cock  feeding  the  hen  on 
the  very  first  day  of  incubation.  It  is  my  belief  that 
young  hoopoes  do  not  leave  the  nest  for  fully  a  month 
after  they  are  hatched.  When  they  do  leave  the  nest 
they  differ  very  little  in  appearance  from  the  adult. 
They  have  the  crest  and  the  colouring  fully  developed. 
The  only  difference  is  that  the  bill  is  not  quite  so  long 
or  so  curved. 

From  the  time  the  bird  emerges  from  the  nest  until 
the  moment  when  it  is  gathered  unto  its  fathers,  the 
hoopoe's  plumage  does  not  undergo  any  change  in 
appearance.  This  being  so  I  am  puzzled  to  know  what 
a  correspondent  meant  when  he  recently  wrote  to  the 
Field  about  a  hoopoe  in  full  breeding  plumage  that 
appeared  in  Yorkshire. 


194         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

But  let  us  return  to  the  young  hoopoe  that  emerged 
from  the  nest  in  my  verandah  at  Fyzabad  on  the  26th 
April,  1912.  Not  content  with  thrusting  its  head  and 
shoulders  through  the  aperture  at  the  visit  of  its  father 
or  mother  as  it  had  been  doing  for  some  time,  it 
suddenly  came  right  out  on  to  the  beam  to  meet  its 
food-laden  parent.  After  it  had  eaten  the  proffered 
caterpillar  and  the  parent  had  left,  the  young  bird 
caught  sight  of  me.  Immediately  it  opened  out  its 
crest  and  began  bowing  in  the  manner  described 
above  as  betokening  excitement.  Then  it  fluttered 
on  to  a  ledge  at  the  distance  of  six  feet.  A  minute 
later  it  flew  out  of  the  verandah  and  alighted  on  a 
creeper  growing  on  a  wall  fifteen  yards  away.  Its 
flight  was  wonderfully  strong,  but  I  noticed  that  it 
was  breathing  heavily  after  it  had  alighted,  showing 
that  the  short  flight  entailed  considerable  exertion. 
It  appeared  to  dislike  the  interest  I  was  taking  in  it, 
and  so  flew  on  to  the  roof  of  the  bungalow,  where  I  lost 
sight  of  it. 

These  httle  incidents  are,  I  submit,  utterly  subver- 
sive of  the  anthropomorphic  theory,  so  much  in  favour 
nowadays  and  expounded  by  Mr.  Walter  Long  in  that 
much-read  book  The  School  of  the  Woods,  that  birds 
and  beasts  are  born  with  their  minds  a  blank,  and  that 
they  have  to  be  taught  how  to  walk  and  how  to  fly 
just  as  human  babies  are  taught  how  to  talk  and  walk. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  young  birds  require  and  receive 
very  little  education  from  their  parents.  A  young 
bird  flies  as  instinctively  as  a  baby  cries. 

I  saw  nothing  more  of  the  young  hoopoe  until  the 


HOOPOES  AT  THE  NESTING  SEASON  195 

morning  of  the  28tli  April,  when  I  noticed  a  hoopoe 
on  the  roof  of  my  bungalow  calling  uk-uk-uk  repeatedly, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  it  had  a  caterpillar  in 
its  beak.  Birds  can  sing  with  the  mouth  full ! 
Presently  a  young  hoopoe  appeared  on  the  roof.  The 
adult  bird  ran  to  the  latter  and  thrust  the  caterpillar 
into  its  mouth.  This  was  acknowledged  by  a  little 
squeak  of  thankfulness. 

Most  young  birds  flap  their  wings  and  make  a  great 
commotion  when  they  think  it  is  time  they  received 
a  beakful  of  food.  Baby  hoopoes,  however,  do  not 
behave  in  this  way  at  all.  They  toddle  sedately  in  the 
wake  of  the  mother  or  father,  but  make  no  clamour  for 
food.  They  receive  this  in  a  most  dignified  manner, 
merely  uttering  a  little  squeak  of  thanks. 

To  return  to  the  young  hoopoe  of  whose  exploits  I 
have  been  writing.  I  saw  a  parent  come  repeatedly 
and  feed  him  on  the  roof  of  the  bungalow  on  that  day 
and  on  the  29th  and  the  30th.  This,  of  course,  I  was 
prepared  for.  But  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  next 
event,  which  was  the  revisit ation  of  the  nest  in  the 
verandah  by  the  two  parent  birds  on  the  ist  May. 
On  the  following  days  they  continued  to  visit  the  nest 
hole,  but  I  had  no  leisure  for  watching  them.  On  the 
5th  May  I  saw  one  hoopoe,  presumably  the  cock, 
literally  drive  the  other  into  the  nest  hole.  They  both 
flew  into  the  verandah  and  alighted  on  a  ledge  that 
runs  round  it  a  little  way  below  the  roof.  There  the 
cock  emitted  some  harsh  cries,  expanded  his  crest 
and  bowed  as  described  above.  Then  he  advanced 
towards  her.    She  disappeared  into  the  nest  hole.    He 


196         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

flew  up  to  the  aperture  and  remained  outside  on  guard 
for  some  time.  After  a  little  he  put  his  head  into  the 
aperture  and  gave  vent  to  his  gentle  uk-uk-uk.  Then 
he  withdrew  his  head,  remained  standing  outside  the 
nest  aperture  for  a  few  minutes  and  flew  off.  The  hen 
emerged  from  the  hole  a  couple  of  minutes  later. 

The  next  day  the  cock  was  bringing  food  to  the  nest, 
and  the  hen  was  apparently  incubating.  On  the  7th, 
8th,  9th,  loth,  and  nth  I  saw  the  cock  still  at  work 
feeding  the  hen,  uttering  at  each  visit  to  the  nest  a 
soft  coo-coo-coo.  From  this  date  I  did  not  see  the  cock 
visit  the  nest  again  until  the  24th,  when  I  saw  him 
fly  to  the  verandah  with  some  food  in  his  mouth,  but 
he  emerged  from  the  nest  hole  without  having  disposed 
of  the  food  he  was  carrying.  He  then  dropped  down 
on  to  the  lawn  and  gave  this  to  another  hoopoe  feeding 
on  the  grass.  From  that  day  onwards  I  have  not  seen 
a  hoopoe  visit  the  nest  hole  in  the  verandah.  It  would 
seem  that  after  sitting  on  the  second  batch  of  eggs  a 
few  days  the  hen  hoopoe  went  on  strike  !  Or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  the  fury  of  incubation  left  her,  and 
she  regained  her  normal  taste  for  a  life  in  the  open. 


XXXI 

THE   LARGEST   BIRD   IN   INDIA 

IT  has  always  been  a  cause  of  wonder  and  sorrow 
to  me  that  the  sarus  crane  (Grus  antigone) 
does  not  occur  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Madras, 
or  indeed  in  South  India  at  all.  The  tropical 
portion  of  the  Indian  peninsula,  with  its  millions 
of  acres  of  green  paddy,  should  be  a  paradise 
for  cranes  ;  yet  not  one  of  these  fine  birds  is  likely 
to  be  found  south  of  the  Godavery,  or,  at  any  rate, 
of  the  Kistna.  There  is  presumably  some  good  reason 
for  this,  but  that  reason  has  yet  to  be  discovered. 

The  sarus  might  well  be  called  the  Indian  crane, 
for  it  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  and  beautiful 
birds  of  Northern  India  ;  moreover,  it  appears  to 
be  found  nowhere  outside  India.  Saruses  occur  in 
Burma,  but  the  Burmese  birds  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  ornithological  systematist,  and  he  has, 
of  course,  made  a  separate  species  of  them.  The  sarus 
from  Burma  is  now  known  in  the  scientific  world 
as  Grus  sharpii  —  not  because  very  sharp  eyes  are 
necessary  in  order  to  distinguish  him  from  the  Indian 
form  ! 

The  plumage  of  the  sarus  is  a  beautiful  shade  of 

197 


198  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

grey.  The  tail  feathers  are  paler  than  the  rest  of  the 
plumage,  being  almost  white  in  some  individuals. 
There  is  a  broad  red  band  round  the  neck  and  the 
lower  part  of  the  head.  This  at  the  breeding  season 
becomes  very  brilliant,  and  then  looks  like  a  broad 
collar  of  crimson  velvet.  The  legs  of  the  sarus  are 
also  bright  red  and  are  nearly  a  yard  long.  So  that 
the  sarus  can,  when  he  wishes  to  assert  himself, 
look  over  the  head  of  the  average  human  being  with- 
out unduly  stretching  his  neck. 

The  sarus  is  the  only  crane  that  stays  in  India 
throughout  the  year.  As  has  already  been  said, 
the  species  is  very  common  in  Northern  India  ;  in- 
deed, a  broad  stretch  of  landscape  in  that  part  of 
the  world  would  not  seem  true  to  life  did  it  not  con- 
tain a  pair  of  saruses  standing  near  together.  Every 
pair  of  these  birds  is  a  regular  Darby  and  Joan.  There 
are  instances  on  record  of  a  sarus  having  pined  away 
and  died  because  it  had  lost  its  mate.  This  affection 
of  the  male  and  female  who  pair  for  life  is  so  notorious 
that  the  Indians  who  eat  the  flesh  of  these  birds  make 
a  point,  after  they  have  bagged  one  of  a  pair,  of  killing 
the  mate. 

The  food  of  saruses  is,  as  Hume  remarks,  very 
varied.  No  small  reptile  or  amphibian  comes  amiss 
to  them.  They  also  eat  insects  and  snails,  and  seeds 
and  green  vegetable  matter.  They  are  often  to  be 
observed  feeding  at  some  distance  from  water.  In- 
deed, my  experience  is  that  they  are  seen  more  often 
on  dry  land  than  in  water.  Their  long  legs  appear 
to  be  of  little  use  to  them  except  at  the  nesting  season. 


THE   LARGEST   BIRD    IN    INDIA         199 

when  they  are  necessary  in  order  to  enable  the  birds 
to  wade  to  the  nest.  Cranes,  unlike  storks  and  herons, 
cannot  grip  with  the  foot,  so  that  they  never  perch 
in  trees.  The  nest  is  built  on  the  ground  and,  pre- 
sumably for  the  sake  of  protection  against  jackals, 
wolves,  and  such-like  creatures,  is  usually  surrounded 
by  water.  As  a  rule,  it  is  not  constructed  on  an  island, 
but  is  itself  an  islet  rising  from  the  bottom  of  the  jhil 
or  tank  in  which  it  is  situated. 

I  have  not  had  the  good  fortune  to  witness  a  nest 
of  the  sarus  in  course  of  construction,  but  from  the 
behaviour  of  the  owners  when  heavy  rain  falls  after 
the  nest  is  completed,  I  beheve  that  both  sexes  take 
part  in  construction.  As  the  nesting  season  is  in 
June,  July,  August,  and  September,  a  good  deal 
of  rain  usually  falls  while  nesting  operations  are  going 
on.  The  nest  is  a  mound  or  cone,  composed  of  rushes 
and  reeds,  of  which  the  diameter  is  two  feet  at  least. 
The  top  of  this  cone,  on  which  the  eggs  are  placed,  is 
usually  about  a  foot  above  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Thus  the  eggs  lie  only  a  little  above  the  water  level ; 
nevertheless,  they  always  feel  quite  dry,  as  does  the 
layer  of  rushes  on  which  they  are  placed.  This  is 
rather  surprising — one  would  expect  the  water  to 
get  soaked  up  into  the  parts  of  the  nest  above  the 
surface  ;  but  this  does  not  happen.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  if  the  top  of  the  nest  became  submerged 
it  would  be  impossible  to  keep  the  eggs  dry  ;  hence, 
when  very  heavy  rain  causes  the  water  level  round 
the  nest  to  rise,  the  parent  saruses  raise  the  top  of 
the  nest  by  adding  more  material  to  it. 


200         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

Two  eggs  are  usually  laid.  These,  as  befits  the  size  of 
the  owners,  are  very  large.  It  is  as  much  as  one  can  do 
to  make  both  ends  meet  of  a  tape  eleven  inches  long, 
passed  round  the  long  axis  of  the  egg.  The  eggs  vary 
considerably  in  size,  but  are  usually  of  a  creamy  hue, 
They  may  be  with  or  without  markings.  The  shell 
is  very  thick  and  hard,  so  that  if  sarus's  eggs  were 
used  for  electioneering  purposes,  fatalities  would 
often  occur. 

Various  observers  give  very  different  accounts 
of  the  behaviour  of  the  parent  saruses  when  their 
nest  is  attacked.  The  general  experience  is  that 
they  show  no  fight,  but  that  they  retire  gracefully 
as  soon  as  the  human  being  gets  within  twenty  yards 
of  the  nest.  Hume,  however,  records  one  case  of  a 
sitting  sarus  making  such  vigorous  pokes  and  drives 
at  the  man  who  approached  her  when  sitting  on 
the  nest  that  he  was  forced  to  flap  her  in  the  face 
vigorously  with  his  waist  cloth  before  she  left  her 
eggs.  That,  says  Hume,  is  the  nearest  approach  to 
a  fight  for  its  penates  he  has  ever  seen  a  sarus  make. 
Recently  I  visited  a  nest  of  these  birds,  which  was 
situated  in  a  small  patch  of  water,  perhaps  forty  feet 
square,  with  a  millet  field  on  one  side  and  paddy  on 
the  other  three.  I  was  on  horseback,  not  wishing 
to  wade  nearly  to  my  waist.  With  me  were  three 
men.  When  we  first  noticed  the  nest,  the  hen  was 
sitting  on  it  and  the  cock  standing  near  by.  As  we 
approached  the  female  rose  to  her  feet  very  slowly, 
and  then  I  could  see  that  the  nest  contained  a  young 
one.     When  we  were  at  a  distance  of  some  ten  yards 


THE   LARGEST  BIRD    IN    INDIA        201 

the  female  began  to  move  her  feet  as  if  scraping  the 
nest,  and  the  young  bird  betook  itself  quietly  to  the 
water,  and  swam  slowly  into  the  neighbouring  flooded 
paddy  field.  The  hen  then  slowly  descended  from 
the  nest  into  the  water  and  quietly  walked  off.  On 
reaching  the  nest,  I  found  in  it  one  egg.  I  sent  one 
of  the  men  after  the  youngster,  which  he  quickly 
secured  and  brought  to  me  to  look  at.  It  was  about 
the  size  of  a  small  bazaar  fowl,  and  had  perhaps  been 
hatched  three  days.  It  was  covered  with  soft  dowTi. 
The  dowm  on  the  upper  parts  was  of  a  rich  reddish 
fawn  colour,  the  back  of  the  neck,  a  band  along  the 
backbone,  and  a  strip  on  each  wing  being  the  places 
where  the  colour  was  most  intense  ;  these  were  almost 
chestnut  in  hue.  The  lower  parts  were  of  a  cream 
colour,  into  which  the  reddish  fawTi  merged  gradually 
at  the  sides  of  the  body.  The  eyes  were  large  and 
black.  The  bill  was  of  pink  hue  and  broad  at  the 
base  where  the  yellow  hning  of  the  mouth  showed. 
The  pink  of  the  bill  was  most  pronounced  towards 
the  base,  fading  almost  to  white  at  the  tip.  The  legs 
and  feet  were  pale  pink,  the  toes  being  slightly  webbed. 
Even  at  that  stage  of  the  youngster's  existence  the 
legs  were  long,  and  enabled  him  to  swim  with  ease, 
but  they  were  not  strong  enough  to  support  him  when 
he  tried  to  walk.  Sarus  cranes  cannot  walk  properly 
until  they  are  several  months  old. 

While  I  was  handling  the  young  bird  the  cock 
sarus  was  evidently  summoning  up  his  courage, 
for  presently  he  began  to  advance  in  battle  array, 
that  is  to  say,  with  neck  bent,  so  that  the  head  pro- 


202  GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

jected  forward,  mouth  slightly  open,  and  wings 
about  half  expanded.  Thus  he  slowly  approached, 
looking  very  handsome.  He  did  not  advance  direct, 
but  took  a  circuitous  course  as  if  stalking  us.  When 
he  had  approached  within  about  six  feet  I  made  a 
pretence  of  striking  him  with  a  short  cane.  Of  this 
act  of  hostihty  he  took  not  the  least  notice,  but  con- 
tinued to  approach.  The  men  with  me,  who  were  on 
foot,  began  to  fear  being  attacked,  so  one  of  them 
ptdled  up  some  paddy  stalks  and  threw  these  at  him. 
This  made  him  jump  and  retreat  a  few  paces.  But 
he  soon  recommenced  his  advance  in  battle  array. 
Then  one  of  the  men  rushed  at  him.  That  caused 
him  to  retreat  a  few  paces  hastily,  but  with  dignity. 
He  then  proceeded  to  attempt  a  rear  attack,  and  as 
he  circled  round  us  with  bent  neck  he  put  me  in  mind 
of  the  villain  of  the  melodrama,  who  stalks  about 
saying  "  My  time  will  come  !  "  When  the  sarus  had 
advanced  thus  to  within  four  feet  of  my  men  and 
looked  as  though  he  were  about  to  spring  at  them, 
one  of  these  lunged  at  him  with  a  short  stick,  and 
he  would  have  been  struck  had  he  not  beaten  a  hasty 
retreat.  Nothing  daunted,  he  again  returned  to  the 
attack.  We  were  at  the  nest  for  fully  ten  minutes, 
and  the  whole  time  he  was  trying  to  get  at  us.  Only 
once  did  he  utter  his  trumpet-like  call.  The  female 
meanwhile  remained  watching  at  a  distance  of  per- 
haps forty  yards. 

Having  seen  what  we  wanted,  we  replaced  the 
young  bird  and  the  egg  in  the  nest  and  retreated 
fifteen  or  twenty  yards.     We  waited  to  see  what  the 


THE    LARGEST  BIRD    IX    IXDL-\         203 

parent  birds  would  do.  The  female  came  up  to  the 
cock  (she  is  distinguishable  by  her  smaller  size)  ; 
then  they  both  advanced  very  slowly  towards  the 
nest,  the  hen  approaching  the  faster.  When  at  a 
distance  of  perhaps  eight  yards  from  the  nest,  the 
cock  indulged  in  some  curious  antics.  He  slowly 
drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  and  stood  thus 
motionless  for  a  few^  seconds,  then  he  stretched  out 
his  bill  towards  the  sky.  Next,  the  long  neck  began 
to  bend  slowly  until  it  took  roughly  the  shape  of  the 
letter  S.  Then,  while  the  neck  was  still  so  bent,  the 
sarus  dipped  his  bill  into  the  water.  After  this  he 
again  stood  upright  and  repeated  the  whole  per- 
formance. Finally  he  indulged  in  a  little  dance. 
Meanwhile  the  hen  slowly  advanced,  and  when  within 
a  yard  of  the  nest  stood  still  and  contemplated  it  for 
a  little,  then,  after  caressing  the  youngster  with  her 
bill,  she  slowly  climbed  on  to  the  nest.  The  nest 
ca\ity  being  a  \ery  shallow  one,  the  yomig  bird  sitting 
in  it  could  be  seen  from  a  considerable  distance,  and 
its  reddish  fawn  plumage  showed  up  in  strong  contrast 
to  its  surroundings.  The  sarus  nestling  cannot  by 
any  stretch  of  the  imagination  be  called  protectively 
coloiu-ed.  but  it  fares  very  well,  notwithstanding  its 
conspicuousness,  because  its  parents  never  depart 
far  from  the  nest,  and  while  they  are  present  it  is 
immime  from  attack.  Even  large  birds  of  prey  avoid 
the  powerful  beak  of  an  infuriated  crane. 


XXXII 
THE   SWALLOW-PLOVER 

TERNS  are  so  beautiful  that,  where  they 
occur,  they  are  apt  to  attract  unto  them- 
selves all  attention.  This  is,  I  think,  the 
reason  why  so  little  is  on  record  regarding 
the  swallow-plovers,  which  haunt  all  the  larger  rivers 
of  India  to  such  an  extent  that  it  is  scarcely  possible 
to  spend  an  hour  on  the  Ganges,  the  Jumna,  the  Gogra, 
the  Indus,  the  Brahmaputra,  the  Nerbudda,  the 
Mahanuddy,  or  even  the  distant  Irawaddy  without 
meeting  with  a  flock  of  those  curious  little  birds. 

Swallow-plovers,  or  pratincoles,  as  they  are  often 
called,  are  easily  described.  They  are  plovers  that 
subsist  largely  upon  flying  insects  which  they  catch 
when  on  the  wing.  As  a  result  of  this  habit  swallow- 
plovers  (Glareola  lactea)  have  taken  on  some  of  the 
attributes  of  the  swallow,  notably  the  long  wings  and 
the  broad  gape. 

The  total  length  of  a  swallow-plover,  including 
the  tail,  is  6|  inches,  while  the  wing  alone  is  nearly 
six  inches  long.  It  is  these  long  wings  that  give 
the  bird  a  swallow-like  appearance. 

The  general  hue  of  Glareola  lactea  is  that  curious 
204 


THE   SWALLOW-PLOVER  205 

sandy-grey  shade  of  brown  which,  for  some  occult 
reason,  is  known  as  isabelHne.  The  short  tail  is  white 
with  a  black  tip.  There  is  a  black  streak  through 
the  eye  and  a  white  one  near  the  margin  of  the  wing. 
The  abdomen  is  white.  The  legs  are  short  for  those 
of  a  plover  ;  nevertheless,  the  species  is  very  nimble 
on  its  feet,  and  runs  in  the  manner  peculiar  to  the 
peewit  family. 

Swallow-plovers  are  to  be  found  at  a  distance 
from  water,  but  they  are  essentially  river  birds. 

At  sunset,  when  insects  in  their  myriads  disport 
themselves  over  the  surface  of  rivers,  the  swallows- 
plovers  issue  forth  and  hawk  these  flying  hexapods 
just  as  swallows  do,  and,  as  they  fly  low  over  the  face 
of  the  waters,  they  are  doubtless  often  mistaken  for 
swallows. 

Jerdon  states  that  swallow-plovers  live  exclusively 
on  insects  which  they  catch  on  the  wing.  I  doubt 
whether  this  assertion  is  correct.  These  birds  cer- 
tainly feed  largely  on  flying  insects,  but  as  they 
spend  the  major  part  of  their  time  on  the  sand,  over 
which  they  run  swiftly,  I  think  that  creeping  things 
constitute  a  not  inconsiderable  portion  of  their  diet. 

Their  nesting  habits  are  similar  to  those  of  terns 
and  plovers  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  eggs  are  placed  on 
the  sand  or  bare  ground  without  any  semblance  of  a 
nest. 

I  make  a  point  every  year,  if  possible,  of  spending 
a  morning  on  a  river  at  the  beginning  of  the  hot 
weather  looking  for  the  nests  of  terns  and  other 
birds   which   lay  on  churs   and  sandbanks.     Almost 


2o6         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN    BIRDS 

every  Indian  river  is  plentifully  studded  with  islets 
which  render  its  navigation  difficult,  but  afford  most 
convenient  nesting  sites  for  many  species  of  birds. 
The  sandy  islets  whereon  eggs  are  laid  are  nearly 
always  those  of  which  some  portion  is  sufficiently 
high  to  escape  being  flooded  when  the  river  rises  in 
consequence  of  the  melting  of  the  snow  on  the  higher 
peaks  of  the  Himalayas.  The  selected  islands  are 
almost  invariably  sufficiently  far  from  the  river  bank 
to  prevent  jackals  and  other  predaceous  creatures 
wading  across  to  them.  If  terns  or  plovers  fail  to 
take  such  precautions,  the  chances  are  that  their 
eggs  will  come  to  grief. 

This  year  (1912),  on  the  15th  April,  I  went  out 
on  the  Gogra  at  Fyzabad,  and  found  over  thirty  nests 
of  swaUow-plovers  on  one  islet,  on  which  I  also  saw 
two  eggs  of  the  black-bellied  tern  {Sterna  melanogaster) . 

Immediately  I  set  foot  on  the  island  the  terns  and 
small  pratincoles  commenced  making  an  uproar, 
which,  of  course,  amounted  to  an  assurance  that 
they  had  eggs  on  the  island.  One  portion  of  it  was 
well  sprinkled  with  stunted  vegetation,  and  thither 
I  at  once  repaired,  to  the  great  disgust  of  the  swallow- 
plovers,  who  flew  about  excitedly,  uttering  their  lap- 
wing-like cry — tiferi,  Uteri.  A  search  of  less  than 
a  minute  served  to  reveal  a  couple  of  eggs  placed  on 
the  bare  ground  between  two  small  plants  that  were 
growing  out  of  the  sand.  As  I  stooped  down  to 
examine  these  eggs  I  looked  round  and  saw  a  very 
curious  and  pretty  sight.  Swallow-plovers  were 
surrounding  me.    They  were  nearly  all  on  the  ground 


THE   SWALLOW-PLOVER  207 

and  striking  strange  attitudes.  Some  were  lying  on 
the  sand  as  though  they  had  been  wounded  and  fallen 
to  the  ground  ;  others  were  floundering  on  the  ground 
as  if  in  pain  ;  some  were  fluttering  along  with  one 
wing  stretched  out  hmply,  looking  as  though  it  were 
broken  ;  while  others  appeared  to  have  both  wings 
injured.  I  did  not  count  the  birds,  but  at  least  twenty 
of  them  were  seemingly  injured.  I  had  often  seen 
one  bird  or  a  pair  behave  thus,  but  never  a  whole 
flock. 

All  the  plover  family  have  this  injury-feigning 
instinct,  but  in  none  is  it  so  well  developed  as  in  the 
pratincoles. 

'*  The  strange  antics,"  writes  Hume,  "  played  by 
these  little  birds,  at  least  those  of  them  that  had 
young  or  hard-set  eggs,  whenever  we  approached 
their  treasures  were  very  remarkable ;  flying  past 
one,  they  would  come  fluttering  down  on  to  the  sand 
a  few  paces  in  front  of  one,  and  there  gasp  and  flutter 
as  if  mortally  wounded,  hobbling  on  with  draggled 
wings  and  limping  legs  as  one  approached  them,  and 
altogether  simulating  entirely  helpless  and  completely 
crippled  birds.  No  one  unacquainted  with  the  habits 
of  this  class  of  birds  could  have  believed,  to  see  them 
flapping  along  on  the  sands  on  their  stomachs,  every 
now  and  then  falling  head  over  heels  and  lying  quite 
still  for  an  instant,  as  if  altogether  exhausted,  that 
this  was  all  a  piece  of  consummate  acting  intended 
to  divert  our  attention  from  their  nests." 

Hume  here  voices  the  popular  opinion  that  birds, 
when  they  behave  as  though  they  are  injured,  are 


208         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

deliberately  pretending  to  be  wounded  with  the  object 
of  diverting  the  attention  of  an  intruder  from  their 
eggs  or  young.  I  hold  this  view  to  be  utterly  and 
entirely  wrong.  Consider  the  long  chain  of  reasoning 
that  a  bird  has  to  make  before  behaving  as  swallow- 
plovers  are  supposed  to  do.  In  the  first  place  the 
birds  must  know  or  believe  that  the  intruder  has 
come  with  the  object  of  taking  their  eggs  or  young 
ones.  They  must  know  or  believe  that  the  said  in- 
truder would  like  to  capture  them  in  preference 
to  their  eggs  or  young.  They  must  further  have 
discovered  that  a  bird  with  a  leg  or  a  wing  broken  is 
easier  to  capture  than  one  that  is  sound  in  limb. 
They  must  also  know  how  a  bird  with  a  broken  wing 
or  leg  behaves  when  endeavouring  to  escape  from  a 
foe.  Knowing  and  believing  all  these  things,  the 
swallow- plover  must  reason  thus  within  itself  :  "If 
I  pretend  that  I  am  injured  the  intruder  will  try  to 
catch  me  and  thus  be  drawn  away  from  my  eggs  or 
young.  I  will,  therefore,  proceed  to  act  the  wounded 
bird  to  the  best  of  my  ability." 

I  do  not  for  a  moment  beheve  that  the  average 
swallow-plover  has  half  this  knowledge  and  power 
of  reasoning.  Its  behaviour  can  be  accounted  for 
in  a  far  more  probable  manner.  We  all  know  that 
instinct  teaches  birds  to  fly  away  from  all  birds  or 
beasts  of  prey  or  large  strange  moving  objects ; 
but  instinct  teaches  them  to  guard  their  eggs.  Now, 
when  a  human  being  approaches  the  eggs  of  a  pra- 
tincole, these  two  instincts  come  into  violent  oppo- 
sition, and  the  bird's  mental  equilibrium  is  much  dis- 


THE   SWALLOW-PLOVER  209 

turbed  ;  the  result  is  that  the  bird  undergoes  all  manner 
of  strange  contortions.  We  look  at  these  and  say, 
"  What  a  clever  httle  bird  !  How  well  it  is  acting  !  " 
The  contortions  of  the  swallow-plover  undoubtedly  do 
tend  to  attract  the  attention  of  predaceous  creatures, 
and  are  probably  useful  to  the  species  when  there  are 
young,  for  these  are  able  to  slip  away  while  the  at- 
tention of  the  attacker  is  momentarily  diverted  by 
the  parent  birds.  Hence  such  behaviour  must  tend 
to  be  perpetuated  by  natural  selection.  That  it  is 
in  no  sense  an  intelligent  act  is  obvious  from  the  fact 
that  such  behaviour  occurs  when  there  are  eggs, 
and  so  can  do  no  good  ;  moreover,  the  parents  will 
go  on  behaving  in  this  manner  even  after  the  intruder 
has  taken  the  eggs  and  put  them  in  his  pocket  ! 

Textbooks  tell  us  that  Glareola  lactca  \d.ys  from 
two  to  four  eggs.  I  have  never  found  more  than 
two  in  a  clutch,  and  think  that  Hume  made  a  mistake 
when  he  said  '*  from  two  to  four,"  and  as  plagiarism 
is  very  rife  among  writers  on  ornithology,  other 
ornithologists  have  copied  his  statements  without 
acknowledgment,  and,  of  course,  reproduced  his 
mistake  ! 

The  eggs  of  this  species  are  interesting  on  account 
of  the  extraordinary  variations  they  exhibit.  As 
Hume  well  says,  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  find  two  eggs 
(outside  the  same  clutch)  that  closely  resemble  each 
other.  It  not  infrequently  happens  that  the  two  eggs 
in  the  same  clutch  differ  so  greatly  that  it  is  difficidt 
to  believe  that  they  are  the  produce  of  one  hen. 
The  ground  colour  may  vary  from  pale  green,  almost 


2IO  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

white,  to  fawn  colour.  The  markings  sometimes 
take  the  form  of  blotches,  so  that  the  eggs  look  like 
those  of  a  small  tern.  More  usually  the  markings 
appear  as  tiny  spots,  freckles,  pencillings,  or  cloudy 
smudges.  On  a  sandbank  containing  twenty  nests  it 
is  possible  to  pick  out  ten  eggs,  each  of  which  differs 
so  greatly  from  the  others  that  the  casual  observer 
would  certainly  say  they  all  belonged  to  different 
species.  The  size  is,  of  course,  fairly  uniform,  but  the 
shape  varies  greatly  ;  some  are  elongated,  while  others 
are  nearly  as  broad  as  they  are  long.  Occasionally 
a  pear-shaped  egg  is  found,  but  as  a  rule  the  narrow 
end  of  the  egg  is  comparatively  blunt.  That  eggs 
which  are  laid  on  the  sand  in  the  open  should  display 
these  extraordinary  variations  is  an  awkward  fact 
for  those  who  consider  that  the  colouring  of  birds' 
eggs  is  the  direct  result  of  natural  selection.  If  this 
were  so  we  should  expect  to  find  a  wonderful  sameness 
about  the  eggs  of  this  species,  which  are  laid  in  such 
exposed  situations.  The  fact  is,  of  course,  that  on  a 
sandbank  eggs  of  any  colour  that  is  not  too  pro- 
nounced are  difficult  to  see ;  hence,  for  purposes  of 
protection,  the  actual  colours  of  the  background  and 
the  markings  of  the  egg  are  matters  of  little  im- 
portance. 


XXXIII 
THE  BIRDS  OF  A  MADRAS  GARDEN 

RICHARD  JEFFERIES  devotes  several  chap- 
ters of  one  of  the  most  dehghtful  of  his 
books — Wild  Life  in  a  Southern  County — 
to  the  birds  that  frequent  a  farm  on  the 
Downs.  "  On  looking  back,"  he  writes,  "  it  appears 
that  the  farm-house,  garden,  orchard,  and  rickyard 
at  Wick  are  constantly  visited  by  about  thirty- 
five  wild  creatures,  and,  in  addition,  five  others 
come  now  and  then,  making  a  total  of  forty.  Of  these 
forty,  twenty-six  are  birds,  two  bats,  eight  quad- 
rupeds, and  four  reptiles.  This  does  not  include  some 
few  additional  birds  that  only  come  at  long  intervals, 
nor  those  that  simply  fly  overhead  or  are  heard  singing 
at  a  distance. 

"  Around  the  farm-house  itself  come  the  starlings, 
sparrows,  swallows,  water  wagtails,  hedge-sparrows, 
robins,  wrens,  tomtits,  thrushes,  and  blackbirds. 
The  orchard  is  frequented  by  sand  martins,  cuckoos, 
missel  thrushes,  goldfinches,  greenfinches,  flycatchers, 
hnnets,  blackcaps,  and  titmice. 

"  In  the  rickyard  are  seen  redstarts,  stone-chats, 
rooks,  chaffinches,  wood-pigeons,  doves,  and  larks." 

211 


212  GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

Now  a  closer  observer  of  nature  than  Richard 
Jefferies  never  existed,  and  he  knew  every  square 
yard  of  the  Wick  Farm,  so  that  we  ma}^  be  sure  that 
the  list  he  gives  is  exhaustive. 

This  list  seems  very  meagre  to  one  who  is  accustomed 
to  bird  life  in  India.  If  the  Wick  Farm  were  trans- 
ported bodily  and  set  down  in  the  middle  of  India 
it  would  be  visited  by  seventy  or  eighty  species  of 
birds  instead  of  twenty-six. 

Every  garden  of  tolerable  size  in  Madras  is  the 
abode  of  quite  twice  as  many  birds  as  those  which 
visit  a  downland  farm  in  England,  so  superior  is  India 
to  England  as  a  field  for  the  ornithologist. 

Every  Madrassi  whose  bungalow  is  placed  in  a 
garden  worthy  of  the  name  may,  without  leaving 
the  same,  count  upon  seeing  fifty  species  of  birds 
before  he  has  been  many  months  in  the  country. 

First  there  are  the  perennials — the  birds  which, 
like  the  poor,  are  always  with  us — the  jungle  and  the 
house  crows,  the  white-headed  babbler,  the  iora, 
the  red-vented  and  the  white-browed  bulbuls,  the 
king-crow,  the  tailor  bird,  the  common  and  the 
brahmany  mynas,  the  common  sparrow,  the  golden- 
backed  woodpecker,  the  bush  lark,  Loten's  and  the 
purple-rumped  sunbirds,  the  coppersmith,  the  white- 
breasted  kingfisher,  the  hoopoe,  the  koel,  the  crow- 
pheasant,  the  spotted  owlet,  the  common  and  the 
brahmany  kites,  the  spotted  and  the  httle  brown  doves, 
and  the  cattle  egret ;  while  if  the  garden  boast  of 
anything  in  the  shape  of  a  pond  there  will  be  found 
the  common  kingfisher  and  the  paddy  bird. 


J 


THE  BIRDS  OF  A   MADRAS  GARDEN     213 

Nearly  all  these  birds  nest  in  the  compound,  and 
all  are  so  famihar  to  every  Anglo-Indian  that  no  de- 
scription is  needed.  Moreover,  I  have,  I  think,  pre- 
viously treated  of  all  of  them  with  the  exception  of 
the  iora  (Aegithina  tiphia).  In  case  there  be  any 
who  are  unable  to  give  this  beautiful  little  species 
a  name  when  they  see  or  hear  it,  let  me  briefly  de- 
scribe it.  It  is  considerably  smaller  than  a  sparrow, 
and  lives  amid  the  foliage,  from  which  it  picks  the 
tiny  insects  that  constitute  its  food.  In  summer  the 
upper  parts  of  the  cock  are  black,  and  the  lower 
parts  bright  yellow.  There  are  two  narrow  white 
bars  in  the  wing.  In  winter  the  black  on  the  head 
and  back  is  replaced  by  yellowish  green.  The  hen 
has  the  upper  plumage  and  tail  green,  and  the  lower 
parts  yellow.  She  also  has  the  two  white  wing  bars. 
To  my  mind  the  iora  is  a  good  songster.  Neverthe- 
less, "  Eha  "  states  that  it  "  has  no  song,  but  scarcely 
any  other  bird  has  such  a  variety  of  sweet  notes." 
I  will  not  quarrel  over  the  meaning  of  the  word  song ; 
every  one  who  knows  the  iora  must  agree  that  it 
continually  makes  a  joyful  noise. 

Less  common  than  the  birds  named  above,  but  occu- 
pants of  almost  every  garden,  are  the  butcher  birds 
and  their  cousins  the  wood-shrikes,  the  fantail  fly- 
catchers, and  the  pied  wagtails,  the  emerald .  bee- 
eaters,  and  parakeets,  the  robin  and  the  palm  swift. 

The  commonest  species  of  butcher  bird  in  Madras 
is  the  bay-backed  shrike  [Lanius  vittakis) ,  a  small  bird 
with  a  grey  head  and  a  maroon  back,  and  a  broad 
black  streak  through  the  eye.     This  tyrant   of  the 


214         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

garden  takes  up  a  perch  on  a  bare  branch,  and  there 
remains  like  a  sentinel  on  a  watch-tower,  until  it 
espies  an  insect  on  the  ground.  On  to  this  it  swoops, 
displaying,  as  it  descends,  much  white  in  the  wings 
and  the  tail. 

The  wood-shrike  (Tephrodornis  pondiceranus)  fre- 
quents trees  and  hedgerows.  But  for  its  broad  white 
eyebrow  and  the  white  in  its  tail,  it  might  pass  for 
a  sparrow.  It  is  most  easily  recognised  by  its  melodious 
and  cheerful  call — tanti  tuia,  tanti  tuia. 

The  pied  wagtail  [Motacilla  maderaspatensis) — ele- 
gance personified — loves  to  sit  on  the  housetop  and  pour 
forth  a  lay  which  vies  with  that  of  the  canary.  Sud- 
denly away  it  flies,  speeding  through  the  air  in  un- 
dulating flight,  until  it  reaches  the  ground,  where, 
nimble-footed  as  Camilla,  it  chases  its  insect  quarry. 

The  fantail  flycatcher  [Rhipidura  alhifrontata)  is 
another  study  in  black  and  white.  This  most  charming 
of  birds  frequents  leafy  trees,  whence  it  pours  forth 
its  sweet  song  of  six  or  seven  notes.  Every  now  and 
again  it,  after  the  manner  of  all  flycatchers,  sallies 
into  the  air  after  insects.  Having  secured  its  victim, 
it  alights  on  a  branch  or  on  the  ground,  and  there 
spreads  out  its  tail  and  turns  as  if  on  a  pivot,  now  to 
one  side,  now  to  the  other. 

We  must  seek  the  robin  {Thamnobia  fulicata) 
among  the  tangled  undergrowth  in  some  corner  of 
the  compound  neglected  by  the  gardener.  There  shall 
we  find  the  pair  of  them — the  cock  a  glossy  black  bird 
with  a  narrow  white  bar  in  the  wing,  the  hen  arrayed 
in  a  gown  of  reddish  brown.     In  each  sex  there  is  a 


THE  BIRDS  OF  A  MADRAS  GARDEN     215 

patch  of  brick-red  feathers  under  the  tail,  and,  as  if 
for  the  purpose  of  displaying  this,  the  tail  is  carried 
almost  erect. 

If  there  be  any  fruit  ripening,  even  if  it  be  that  of 
the  cypress,  green  parrots  {Palaeornis  torquatus) 
are  certain  to  visit  the  garden.  On  the  approach  of 
a  human  being  these  feathered  marauders  will  fling 
themselves  into  the  air  with  wild  screams,  and  dash 
off,  looking,  as  Lockwood  Kipling  says,  like  **  live 
emeralds  in  the  sun." 

Even  more  like  living  emeralds  are  the  little  green 
bee-eaters  {Merops  viridis),  whose  feeble  twitter  may 
emanate  from  any  tree.  Take  a  huge  emerald  and 
cut  it  into  the  shape  of  a  bird.  Insert  a  pale  blue  tur- 
quoise at  the  throat,  rubies  for  the  eyes,  and  set 
these  off  with  strips  of  darkest  emery,  let  into  the 
head  a  golden  topaz,  then  breathe  into  this  collection 
of  gems  the  breath  of  life,  and  you  will  have  pro- 
duced a  poor  imitation  of  that  gem  of  the  feathered 
world — the  little  emerald  merops. 

If  there  be  palm  trees  in  the  garden  the  presence 
of  the  little  palm  swift  {Tachornis  hatassiensis)  is 
assured.  Palm  swifts  are  tiny  smoky-brown  birds 
which  travel  unceasingly  through  the  air  in  pursuit 
of  the  insects  on  which  they  feed.  During  flight 
the  wings  remain  expanded,  looking  like  a  bow  into 
the  middle  of  which  the  slender  body  is  inserted. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  one  of  the  most  striking 
birds  in  the  world — the  Indian  paradise  flycatcher 
(Terpsiphone  paradtsi),  which  certainly  is  entitled 
to  a  place   among  the  common  birds  of  a  Madras 


2i6         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 

garden.  The  cocks  are  white  or  chestnut,  according 
to  age.  The  crested  head  is  shining  black,  and  the 
two  median  tail  feathers  are  greatly  elongated,  so 
that  they  flutter  in  the  air  like  satin  streamers  as 
the  bird  flits  about  among  the  trees.  The  hen  lacks 
the  lengthened  tail  feathers,  and,  as  "  Eha  "  says,  looks 
like  a  chestnut-coloured  bulbul.  Indeed,  Anglo- 
Indian  boys  call  this  species  the  Shah  BulbuL 

There  are  a  number  of  occasional  bird  visitors 
to  our  Madras  gardens.  Parties  of  minivets  and 
cuckoo  shrikes  come  and  seek  for  insects  among  the 
leaves  of  trees.  The  unobtrusive  yellow-throated 
sparrow  [Gymnorhis  flavicollis)  is  another  tree-haunting 
species  to  be  looked  for  in  the  garden.  Conspicuous 
among  the  less  common  birds  which  feed  on  the  ground 
are  the  gorgeous  roller  or  "  blue  jay,"  the  sprightly 
magpie  robin,  the  white-throated  munia,  attired  like 
a  quaker,  and  that  bird  of  many  colours  the  Indian 
pitta,  which  keeps  always  near  thick  underwood, 
sometimes  issuing  from  thence  into  the  open  to  give 
forth  a  cheery  whistle. 

In  conclusion,  mention  must  be  made  of  the  migrant 
species.  Many  of  the  birds  that  come  to  the  farm  on 
the  downs  of  which  Jefferies  wrote — the  swallows, 
the  cuckoos,  and  the  wagtails — are  but  summer  visitors 
to  England.  So  do  a  number  of  migrating  species  visit 
our  Madras  gardens.  There  is,  however,  this  difference 
in  the  two  cases.  The  migrating  species  visit  England 
in  summer  for  nesting  purposes,  whereas  they  spend 
the  winter  in  w^arm  Madras,  and  leave  it  in  summer 
before  the  nesting  time  begins. 


THE  BIRDS  OF  A  MADRAS  GARDEN     217 

Among  the  winter  visitors  which  come  into  the 
garden  must  be  mentioned  the  beautiful  Indian  oriole, 
a  study  in  yellow  and  black,  the  Indian  redstart, 
or,  to  give  it  its  older  name,  the  fire-tail,  the  grey- 
headed wagtail,  whose  under  parts  are  bright  yellow, 
the  dull  earthy-hued  little  Sykes's  warbler,  which 
hides  itself  in  a  bush  and  keeps  on  calling  out  chick, 
and  the  grey-headed  myna,  which,  but  for  the  fact 
that  the  head  and  recumbent  crest  are  grey,  might 
easily  pass  for  a  brahmany  myna. 

The  birds  above  enumerated  do  not  form  by  any 
means  an  exhaustive  list.  Were  birds  that  sometimes 
come  into  the  garden  included,  the  list  would  extend 
to  three  times  its  present  length. 


XXXIV 
SUNBIRDS 

SUNBIRDS,  or  honey-suckers  as  they  are 
sometimes  called,  are  to  the  tropics  of  the 
Old  World  what  humming  birds  are  to 
the  warmer  portions  of  the  New  World. 

Sunbirds  are  tiny  feathered  exquisites  which  vary 
in  length  from  3 J  to  5  inches,  including  a  bill  of  con- 
siderable length  for  the  size  of  the  bird. 

They  are  numbered  among  the  most  familiar 
birds  of  India,  owing  to  their  abundance  and  their 
partiality  to  gardens.  They  occur  all  the  year  round 
in  the  warmer  parts  of  the  peninsula,  but  leave  the 
coldest  regions  for  a  short  time  during  the  winter. 

Twenty-nine  species  of  sunbirds  are  described 
as  belonging  to  the  Indian  Empire,  but  most  of  them 
are  only  local  in  their  distribution.  Three  species, 
however,  have  a  considerable  range.  These  are 
Arachnechthra  asiatica,  the  purple  sunbird,  which 
occurs  throughout  India  and  Burma,  ascending  the 
hills  to  5000  feet ;  A,  zeylonica — the  purple-rumped 
sunbird — which  is  the  commonest  sunbird  in  all 
parts  of  Southern  India  except  Madras,  where  the 
third  species.  A,  lotenia — Loten's  sunbird — is  perhaps 

more  abundant. 

218 


SUNBIRDS  219 

The  genus  Arachnechthra  is  characterised  by  a 
great  difference  in  appearance  between  the  sexes. 
The  hens  of  all  the  species  are  very  like  one  another  ; 
all  are  homely  -  looking  birds,  dull  greenish  brown 
above  and  pale  yellow  below.  The  cocks  of  the 
various  species  are  arrayed  in  metallic  colours  as 
resplendent  as  those  that  decorate  humming  birds. 

Seen  from  a  little  distance,  the  cock  of  the  purple- 
rumped  species  is  a  bird  with  dark  head,  neck,  wings, 
back,  and  tail,  and  bright  yellow  under  parts,  while 
the  female  is  brown  above  and  yellowish  beneath. 
Thus  at  a  distance  the  male  does  not  look  much  more 
beautiful  than  the  female,  but  if  one  is  able  to  creep 
up  sufficiently  near  him  his  plumage  is  seen  to  be 
unsurpassable  ;  it  ghstens  with  a  splendid  metallic 
sheen,  which  is  purple  or  green  according  to  the 
direction  from  which  the  sun's  rays  fall  upon  it.  On 
the  top  of  the  head  is  a  patch  of  brilHant  shining 
metallic  green,  which  exceeds  in  beauty  any  crown 
devised  by  man. 

The  cocks  of  the  purple  and  Loten's  species  are 
very  much  alike,  but  may  be  readily  distinguished 
by  the  fact  that  the  slender  curved  bill  of  Loten's 
is  considerably  longer  than  that  of  its  cousin.  How 
shall  I  describe  these  beautiful  birds  ?  In  my  volume 
Indian  Birds  I  classed  them  among  black  birds, 
because  they  look  black  when  seen  at  a  distance, 
but  I  stated  that  they  are  in  reality  dark  purple, 
and  have  been  taken  to  task  for  not  classing  them 
among  the  blue  birds.  The  fact  of  the  matter  is  that 
these  birds  cannot  be  said  to  be  of  any  colour ;    like 


220         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

shot  silk,  their  hue  depends  upon  the  angle  at  which 
the  sun's  rays  fall  upon  them.  In  the  sunlight  their 
plumage  glistens  like  a  new  silk  hat,  and  sometimes 
the  sheen  looks  lilac  and  at  others  green. 

The  habits  of  all  three  species  appear  to  be  exactly 
alike. 

The  cocks  of  all  have  fine  voices.  At  his  best 
the  purple  sunbird  sings  as  sweetly  as  a  canary. 
Indeed,  on  one  occasion  when  I  was  staying  at  Ban- 
galore I  heard  a  bird  singing  in  the  verandah  which 
I  thought  was  a  caged  canary  ;  it  was  only  when  I 
went  to  look  at  the  canary  that  I  discovered  it  to  be 
a  wild  sunbird  pouring  forth  its  music  from  some 
trellis-work  ! 

Sunbirds  are  always  literally  bubbling  over  with 
energy.  They  are  bundles  of  vivacity — ever  on  the 
move.  Although  they  eat  tiny  insects,  they  subsist 
chiefly  on  the  nectar  of  flowers,  which  appears  to  be 
a  most  stimulating  diet. 

Sunbirds  have  long,  slender,  curved  bills  and 
tubular  tongues,  hence  they  are  admirably  equipped 
to  secure  the  honey  hidden  away  in  the  calyces  of 
flowers.  As  the  little  birds  insert  their  heads  into 
the  blossoms  they  get  well  dusted  with  pollen,  so 
that,  like  bees  and  some  other  insects,  they  probably 
play  an  important  part  in  the  cross-fertilisation  of 
flowers  ;  but  they  do  not  hesitate  to  probe  the  sides 
of  large  flowers  with  their  sharp  bills,  and  thus  secure 
the  honey  without  bearing  pollen  to  the  stigma. 
It  is  pretty  to  watch  the  sunbirds  feeding.  They 
are  as  acrobatic  as  titmice  and  strike  the  most  extra- 


SUNBIRDS  221 

ordinary  attitudes  in  their  attempts  to  procure  honey. 
When  there  is  no  convenient  point  d'appui  they 
hover  hke  humming  birds,  on  rapidly  vibrating  wings, 
and  while  so  doing  explore  with  their  long  tongues 
the  recesses  of  honeyed  flowers.  To  quote  Aitken,  "  be- 
tween whiles  they  skip  about,  slapping  their  sides 
with  their  tiny  wings,  spreading  their  tails  like  fans, 
and  ringing  out  their  cheery  refrain.  As  they  pass 
from  one  tree  to  another  they  traverse  the  air  in  a 
succession  of  bounds  and  sportive  spirals."  Verily 
the  existence  of  a  sunbird  is  a  happy  one  ! 

The  nest  of  the  sunbird  is  one  of  the  most  wonderful 
pieces  of  architecture  in  the  world,  and  it  is  the  work 
of  the  hen  alone.  While  she  is  working  like  a  Trojan, 
her  gay  young  spark  of  a  husband  is  drinking 
riotously  of  nectar  !  The  nest  is  a  hanging  one,  and 
is  usually  suspended  from  a  branch  of  a  bush  or  a 
tree,  and  not  infrequently  from  the  rafter  of  the 
verandah  of  an  inhabited  bungalow ;  sunbirds  show 
little  fear  of  man. 

The  nest  is  commenced  by  cobwebs  being  wound 
round  and  rouud  the  branch  from  which  the  nest 
will  hang.  Cobweb  is  the  cement  most  commonly 
employed  by  birds.  To  this  pieces  of  dried  grass, 
slender  twigs,  fibres,  roots,  or  other  material  are  added 
and  made  to  adhere  by  the  addition  of  more  cobweb. 

The  completed  nest,  which  usually  hangs  in  a 
most  conspicuous  place,  often  passes  for  a  small 
mass  of  rubbish  that  has  been  pitched  into  a  bush, 
and,  in  view  of  the  multifarious  nature  of  the  material 
used  by  the  sunbird,  there  is  every  excuse  for  mis- 


222         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

taking  the  nursery  for  a  ball  of  rubbish.  Grasses, 
fibres,  fine  roots,  tendrils,  fragments  of  bark,  moss, 
lichen,  petals  or  sepals  of  flowers,  in  short,  anything 
that  looks  old  and  untidy  is  utilised  as  building 
material. 

In  Birds  of  the  Plains  I  mentioned  the  sunbirds' 
nest  that  was  literally  covered  with  the  white  paper 
shavings  that  are  used  to  pack  tight  the  biscuits  in 
Huntley  and  Palmer's  tins. 

*'  It  is  curious,"  writes  Mr.  R.  M.  Adam,  "  how 
fond  these  birds  are  of  tacking  on  pieces  of  paper 
and  here  and  there  a  bright-coloured  feather  from  a 
paroquet  or  a  roller  on  the  outside  of  their  nests. 
When  in  Agra  a  bird  of  this  species  built  a  nest  on  a 
loose  piece  of  thatch  laid  in  my  verandah,  and  on  the 
side  of  the  nest,  stuck  on  like  a  signboard,  was  a  piece 
of  a  torn-up  letter  with  *  My  dear  Adam  '  on  it." 

Mr.  R.  W.  Morgan  describes  a  yet  more  extraordinary 
nest  that  was  built  by  sunbirds  in  an  acacia  tree  in 
front  of  his  office  at  Kurnool :  "It  was  ornamented 
with  bits  of  blotting-paper,  twine,  and  old  service 
stamps  that  had  been  left  lying  about.  The  whole 
structure  was  most  compactly  bound  together  with 
cobwebs,  and  had  a  long  string  of  caterpillar  excre- 
ment wound  round  it.  This  excrement  had  most 
probably  fallen  on  to  a  cobweb  and  had  stuck  to  it, 
and  the  cobweb  had  afterwards  been  transported  in 
strips  to  the  nest." 

The  completed  nest  is  a  pear-shaped  structure, 
with  an  opening  at  one  side  near  the  top.  Over  the 
entrance  hole  a  little  porch  projects,  which  serves 


SUNBIRDS  223 

to  keep  out  the  sun  and  rain  when  the  nest  is  exposed 
to  them. 

The  nest  is  cosily  hned  with  silk  cotton.  The 
aperture  at  the  side  acts  as  a  window  as  well  as  a 
door  ;  the  hen,  who  alone  incubates,  sits  on  her  eggs, 
looking  out  of  the  little  window  with  her  chin  rest- 
ing comfortably  on  the  sill. 

Two  eggs  only  are  laid.  The  smallness  of  the  clutch 
indicates  that  there  is  not  a  great  deal  of  loss  of  life 
in  the  nest.  The  immunity  of  the  sunbird  is  due 
chiefly  to  the  inaccessibility  of  the  nest.  The  latter 
is  usually  at  the  extreme  tip  of  a  slender  branch  upon 
which  no  bird  of  any  size  can  obtain  a  foothold. 
When  a  sunbird  does  make  a  mistake  and  place  its 
nest  in  an  unsuitable  place,  the  predaceous  crows  de- 
vour the  young  ones,  as  they  did  recently  in  the  case 
of  a  nest  built  in  the  middle  of  an  ingadulsis  hedge  in 
my  compound  at  Fyzabad. 

In  conclusion,  I  should  like  to  settle  one  disputed 
point  in  the  economy  of  the  purple  sunbird  {A .  asiatica) . 
Jerdon  stated  that  the  cock  doffs  his  gay  plumage 
after  the  breeding  season  and  assumes  a  dress  like 
that  of  the  hen  except  for  a  purple  strip  running 
longitudinally  from  the  chin  to  the  abdomen. 

Blanford  denied  this.  He  appears  to  have  based 
his  denial  on  the  fact  that  cocks  in  full  plumage  are 
to  be  seen  at  all  seasons  of  the  year.  There  is  no 
month  in  the  year  in  which  I  have  not  seen  a  cock 
purple  sunbird  in  nuptial  plumage.  I  used,  therefore, 
to  think  that  Blanford  was  right  and  Jerdon  wrong. 

Afterwards  I  came  across  the  following  passage  by 


224         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

Finn  in  The  Birds  of  Calcutta  :  *'  The  purple  cock 
apparently  thinks  his  wedding  garment  too  ex- 
pensive to  be  worn  the  whole  year  round  ;  for  after 
nesting  he  doffs  it,  and  assumes  female  plumage, 
retaining  only  a  purple  streak  from  chin  to  stomach 
as  a  mark  of  his  sex.  ...  I  well  remember  one  bird 
which  came  to  the  museum  compound  after  breeding 
to  change  his  plumage  ;  he  kept  very  much  to  two 
or  three  trees,  singing,  apparently,  from  one  particular 
twig,  and  even  when  in  undress  he  kept  up  his  song." 

Since  reading  the  above  I  have  watched  purple 
sunbirds  carefully,  and  have  observed  that  during 
the  months  of  November  and  December  cocks  in 
full  breeding  plumage  are  very  rarely  seen,  although 
there  is  no  lack  of  cocks  in  the  eclipse  plumage  de- 
scribed by  Finn. 

Moreover,  a  purple  sunbird  which  is  being  kept 
in  an  aviary  in  England  assumes  eclipse  plumage  for 
a  short  period  each  year  at  the  beginning  of  winter. 
Thus  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  cock  of  the 
purple  species  does  doff  his  gay  plumage  after  the 
nesting  season,  but  only  for  a  short  period.  In  January 
the  majority  of  cocks  are  in  breeding  plumage,  and, 
indeed,  in  some  parts  of  the  country  nest  building 
begins  as  early  as  February. 


XXXV 

THE  BANK  MYNA 

THE  bank  myna  {Acridotheres  ginginianus) , 
like  the  Indian  corby  {Corvus  macrorhynchus) , 
is  a  bird  that  has  suffered  neglect  at  the  hands 
of  those  who  write  about  the  feathered  folk. 
The  reason  of  this  neglect  is  obvious.  Even  as 
the  house  crow  {Corvus  splendens)  overshadows  the 
corby,  so  does  the  common  myna  [Acridotheres  tristis) 
almost  eclipse  the  bank  myna.  So  famihar  is  the 
myna  that  all  books  on  Indian  birds  deal  very  fully 
with  him.  They  discourse  at  length  upon  his  char- 
acter and  his  habits,  and  then  proceed  to  dismiss 
the  bank  myna  with  the  remark  that  his  habits  are 
those  of  his  cousin. 

The  bank  myna  is  a  myna  every  inch  of  him.  He 
is  a  chip  of  the  old  block  ;  there  is  no  mistaking  him 
for  anything  but  what  he  is.  So  like  to  his  cousin 
is  he  that  when  I  first  set  eyes  upon  him  I  took  him 
for  a  common  myna  freak.  And  I  still  believe  I  was 
not  greatly  mistaken.  I  submit  that  the  species  arose 
as  a  mutation  from  A.  tristis. 

Once  upon  a  time  a  pair  of  common  mynas  must 
have  had  cause  to  shake  their  heads  gravely  over 
Q  225 


226         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

one  or  more  of  their  youngsters  who  differed  much 
from  the  rest  of  the  brood.  As  these  youngsters  grew 
up,  the  differences  became  even  more  marked,  they 
showed  themselves  slaty  grey  where  they  should 
have  been  rich  brown,  and  pinkish  buff  where  white 
feathers  ought  to  have  appeared,  and  the  climax  must 
have  been  reached  when  these  weird  youngsters  de- 
veloped crimson  patches  of  skin  at  the  sides  of  the 
head,  instead  of  yellow  ones.  Probably,  the  other 
mynas  of  the  locality  openly  expressed  their  disap- 
proval of  these  caricatures  of  their  species,  for  mynas 
do  not  keep  their  feelings  to  themselves.  As  likely 
as  not  they  put  these  new-fangled  creatures  into 
Coventry,  for  birds  are  as  conservative  as  old  maids. 

Thus  these  myna  freaks  were  compelled  to  live 
apart,  but,  being  strong  and  healthy,  they  throve 
and  either  paired  inter  se,  or  managed  to  secure  mates 
among  their  normally  dressed  fellows.  In  either 
case,  the  offspring  bore  the  stamp  of  their  abnormal 
parents. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  and  one  which  throws  much 
light  on  the  process  of  evolution,  that  abnormalities 
have  a  very  strong  tendency  to  perpetuate  themselves. 
Thus  was  brought  into  being  a  new  species,  and  as 
there  were  in  those  times  no  ornithologists  to  shoot 
these  freaks,  and  as  they  passed  with  credit  the  test 
prescribed  by  nature,  the  species  has  secured  a  firm 
footing  in  India.  This  hypothesis  accounts  for  the 
comparatively  restricted  distribution  of  the  bank 
myna.  It  does  not  occur  south  of  the  Narbada 
and  Mahanadi  Rivers,  but  is  found  all  over  the  plains 


THE   BANK   MYNA  227 

of  Northern  India,  and  ascends  some  way  up  the 
Himalayas.  It  is  particularly  abundant  in  the  eastern 
portion  of  the  United  Provinces.  In  the  course  of 
a  stroll  through  the  fields  at  Allahabad,  Lucknow, 
or  Fyzabad,  one  meets  with  thousands  of  bank  mynas. 
There  seems  to  be  evidence  that  this  species  is  ex- 
tending its  range  both  eastwards  and  westwards ; 
and  one  of  these  days  a  southerly  advance  may  be 
made,  so  that  eventually  the  bank  myna  may  form 
an  attractive  addition  to  the  birds  of  Madras. 

This  species  goes  about  in  flocks  of  varying  numbers, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  common  myna.  It  comes  into 
towns  and  villages,  but  is  much  less  of  a  garden  bird 
than  its  familiar  cousin.  It  is  in  the  fields,  especially 
in  the  vicinity  of  rivers,  that  these  birds  occur  most 
abundantly.  They  consort  with  all  the  other  species 
of  myna,  for,  whatever  may  have  been  thought  of 
them  when  first  evolved,  they  are  now  in  society. 
King-crows  (Dicrurus  ater)  dance  attendance  upon 
them  as  they  do  on  the  common  mynas,  for  the  sake 
of  the  insects  put  up  by  them  as  they  strut  through 
the  grass.  The  king-crow,  owing  to  the  length  of 
its  tail  and  the  shortness  of  its  legs,  is  no  pedestrian, 
and  so  is  not  able  to  beat  for  itself. 

The  books  tell  us  that  bank  mynas  feed  on  insects, 
grain,  and  fruit.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  their 
diet  is  confined  almost  exclusively  to  the  first  of  these 
articles.  I  speak  not  as  one  having  authority,  for, 
in  order  to  do  this,  it  is  necessary  to  shoot  dozens  of 
the  birds  and  carefully  examine  the  contents  of  their 
stomachs.    This  kind  of  thing  I  leave  to  the  economic 


228         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

ornithologist.  I  admit  that  bank  mynas  are  very 
partial  to  the  fields  of  millet  and  other  tall  grain  crops, 
but  I  am  persuaded  that  they  visit  these  for  the 
insects  that  lurk  on  their  spikes. 

Grasshoppers  are  to  the  common  myna  what 
bread  and  meat  are  to  the  Englishman,  the  pieces 
de  resistance  of  the  menu.  This  is  why  mynas  always 
affect  pasture  land,  where  it  exists,  and  keep  company 
with  cattle,  the  sedate  march  of  which  causes  so  much 
consternation  among  the  grasshoppers.  Bank  mynas 
eat  grasshoppers,  but  seem  to  prefer  other  insects, 
especially  those  which  lurk  underground.^  Certain  it 
is  that  wherever  they  occur  they  maintain  a  sharp 
look-out  for  the  ploughman,  and  follow  him  most 
assiduously  as  he  turns  up  the  soil  by  means  of  his 
oxen-drawn  plough.  The  house  crows  also  attend 
this  function.  The  other  species  of  myna  follow  the 
plough,  but  not  so  consistently  as  the  bank  myna. 
The  pied  starling,  although  it  does  not  disdain  the 
insects  cast  up  by  the  plough,  seems  to  prefer  to 
pick  its  food  out  of  mud.  One  often  sees  a  flock  of 
these  birds  paddling  about  in  shallow  water,  as  though 
they  were  sandpipers. 

It  is  amusing  to  watch  a  flock  of  bank  mynas 
strutting  along  a  newly  turned  furrow.  In  Upper 
India  it  is  usual  for  two  or  more  ploughs  to  work 

^  Since  the  above  was  written,  C.  W.  Mason  has  published  a 
paper  entitled  The  Food  of  Birds  in  India.  In  this  he  shows  that 
eight  stomachs  of  the  bank  myna  contained  io6  insects.  His 
researches  show  that  this  species  is  very  partial  to  the  caterpillars 
of  the  common  castor  pest,  Ophiusa  melicerte.  Vide  Memoirs  of  the 
Department  of  Agriculture  in  India  (Entomological  Series,  Vol.  III). 


THE   BANK    MYNA  229 

together  in  Indian  file,  a  few  yards  separating  them. 
The  mynas  hke  to  place  themselves  between  two 
ploughs,  and  so  fearless  are  they  that  they  some- 
times allow  themselves  almost  to  be  trodden  on  by 
the  team  behind  them.  Although  the  progress  of 
the  ploughing  oxen  is  not  rapid,  it  is  too  fast  for 
the  mynas,  who  find  themselves  continually  dropping 
behind,  and  have  every  now  and  again  to  use  their 
wings  to  keep  pace  with  them.  At  intervals,  the 
whole  following,  or  a  portion  of  it,  takes  to  its  wings 
and  indulges  in  a  little  flight  purely  for  the  fun  of 
the  thing.  The  flock  sometimes  returns  to  the  original 
plough,  at  others  transfers  its  attentions  to  another. 
Thus  the  flocks  are  continually  changing  in  number 
and  personnel,  and  in  this  respect  are  very  different 
from  the  companies  of  seven  sisters.  The  latter  appear 
to  be  definite  clubs  or  societies,  the  former  mere 
chance  collections  of  individuals,  or  probably  pairs 
of  individuals. 

Bank  mynas  are  so  called  because  they  invariably 
nest  in  sandbanks,  in  the  sides  of  a  well,  or  some 
such  locality,  they  themselves  excavating  the  nest 
hole.  Like  sand  martins,  bank  mynas  breed  in 
considerable  companies,  but  they  are  not  so  obliging 
as  regards  the  season  of  their  nidification.  They 
usually  select  sites  which  are  not  only  at  a  distance 
from  human  habitations,  but  difficult  of  access,  and, 
as  the  birds  do  not  begin  to  nest  until  well  on  in  May, 
when  the  weather  in  Upper  India  is  too  hot  to  be 
described  in  literary  language,  one  does  not  often 
have  a  chance  of  seeing  the  birds  at  work.     Their 


230         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

nesting  passages  do  not  necessarily  run  inwards  in  a 
straight  line.  The  result  is  that  neighbouring  ones 
often  communicate.  At  the  end  of  the  passage  is  a 
circular  chamber  which  is  lined  with  grass  and  any- 
thing else  portable.  Cast-off  snake  skin  is  a  lining 
particularly  sought  after.  Mr.  Jesse  informs  us  that 
from  one  of  these  nests  in  the  bank  of  the  Goomti, 
near  Lucknow,  he  extracted  parts  of  a  Latin  exercise 
and  some  arithmetic  questions.  The  owners  of  the 
nest  were  not  going  in  for  higher  education  ;  it  was 
merely  a  case  of  putting  a  thing  to  a  use  for  which  it 
was  never  intended,  a  feat  at  which  both  birds  and 
Indian  servants  are  great  adepts.  Notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  the  eggs  are  laid  in  dark  places,  they  are 
blue,  as  are  those  of  the  other  mynas.  Young  bank 
mynas  lack  the  red  skin  at  the  side  of  the  head,  and 
are  brown  in  places  where  the  adults  are  black.  Young 
mynas  of  all  species  have  a  rather  mangy  appearance. 
Like  port  wine,  they  improve  with  age. 


XXXVI 

THE   JACKDAW 

THE  jackdaw,  although  numbered  among 
the  birds  of  India,  has  not  succeeded  in 
estabhshing  itself  in  the  plains.  Large 
numbers  of  jackdaws  visit  the  Punjab  in 
winter,  where  they  keep  company  with  the  house 
crows  and  the  rooks,  the  three  species  appearing  to 
be  on  the  best  of  terms.  At  the  first  approach  of  the 
warm  weather  the  daws,  the  rooks,  and  the  majority 
of  the  ravens  betake  themselves  to  Kashmir  or  to 
Central  Asia,  leaving  the  house  crows  to  represent 
the  genus  Corvus  in  the  plains  of  the  Punjab.  The 
jackdaw  {Corvus  monedula)  is  in  shape  and  colouring 
like  our  friend  Corvtts  splendens,  differing  only  in  its 
smaller  size  and  in  having  a  white  iris  to  the  eye. 
As  is  the  case  with  the  common  Indian  crow,  individual 
jackdaws  differ  considerably  in  the  intensity  of  the 
greyness  of  the  neck.  In  some  specimens  the  sides 
of  the  neck  are  nearly  white.  Of  these  systematists 
have  made  a  new  species,  which  they  call  C.  collaris. 
Gates,  I  am  glad  to  observe,  declines  to  recognise 
this  species.  A  jackdaw  is  a  jackdaw  all  the  world 
over,  and  it  is  absurd  to  try  to  make  him  anything  else. 

231 


232         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

As  it  has  not  been  my  good  fortune  to  spend  any 
time  in  Kashmir,  my  acquaintance  with  the  jackdaws 
of  India  is  confined  to  those  that  visit  the  Punjab 
in  winter.  These  do  not  appear  to  frequent  the  vicinity 
of  houses  ;  I  have  invariably  found  them  feeding 
in  fields  at  some  distance  from  a  village.  They  roost, 
along  with  the  crows  and  the  rooks,  in  remote  parts 
of  the  country.  Every  evening  during  the  half-hour 
before  sunset  two  great  streams  of  birds  pass  over 
Lahore.  The  larger  stream,  consisting  of  crows, 
rooks,  and  daws,  moves  in  a  north-westerly  direction, 
while  the  other,  composed  exclusively  of  ravens, 
takes  a  more  westerly  course.  The  ravens  apparently 
decline  to  consort  with  their  smaller  and  more  frivolous 
relations. 

Although  jackdaws  seem  never  to  remain  in  the 
plains  after  the  beginning  of  spring,  they  are  able 
to  thrive  well  enough  in  the  hot  weather.  A  specimen 
in  the  Zoological  Gardens  at  Lahore  keeps  perfectly 
well,  and  loses  none  of  his  high  spirits  even  when  the 
heat  is,  to  use  the  words  of  Kipling,  "  enough  to  make 
your  bloomin'  eyebrows  crawl."  But  then,  as  Bishop 
Stanley  asked,  **  who  ever  saw  or  heard  of  a  moping, 
melancholy  jackdaw  ?  "  This  particular  bird  is  able 
to  hold  his  own  quite  well  against  the  crows,  rooks,  and 
ravens  confined  in  the  same  aviary.  Moreover,  all  these 
are  on  quite  friendly  terms  with  an  Australian  piping 
crow — a  butcher  bird  which  apes  the  manners  and 
appearance  of  a  crow  so  successfully  as  to  delude 
the  Corvi  into  thinking  that  he  is  one  of  themselves ! 
Half  a  century  ago  Jerdon  wrote  :    "  The  jackdaw  is 


THE   JACKDAW  233 

tolerably  abundant  in  Kashmir  and  in  the  Punjab, 
in  the  latter  country  in  the  cold  weather  only.  It 
builds  in  Kashmir  in  old  ruined  palaces,  holes  in  rocks, 
beneath  roofs  of  houses,  and  also  in  trees,  laying  four 
to  six  eggs,  dotted  and  spotted  with  brownish  black." 
No  one  living  in  Kashmir  appears  to  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  amplify  this  somewhat  meagre  account 
of  the  jackdaw  in  Asia.  It  would  be  interesting  to 
know  whether  the  daws  of  Kashmir  have  any  habits 
peculiar  to  themselves.  The  fact  that  Jerdon  mentions 
their  breeding  in  trees  is  interesting,  for  in  England 
they  nest  in  buildings  in  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  cases  out  of  a  thousand. 

The  jackdaw  makes  a  most  admirable  pet.  When 
taken  young  it  becomes  remarkably  tame,  soon 
learning  to  follow  its  master  about  like  a  dog.  More- 
over, the  bird  is  as  full  of  tricks  as  is  a  wagon-load  of 
monkeys,  so  that  Mr.  Westell  does  not  exaggerate 
when  he  says  that  the  jackdaw  when  kept  as  a  pet 
seems  more  of  an  imp  than  a  bird.  It  thieves  for  the 
mere  sake  of  thieving.  The  nest  is  sometimes  a  veritable 
museum  of  curiosities.  One  bird,  immortalised  by 
Bishop  Stanley,  appears  to  have  tried  to  convert 
its  nest  into  a  draper's  shop,  for  this,  although  not 
finished,  was  found  to  contain  some  lace,  part  of  a 
worsted  stocking,  a  silk  handkerchief,  a  frill,  a  child's 
cap,  "  besides  several  other  things,  but  so  ragged  and 
worn  out  that  it  was  impossible  to  make  out  what 
they  were." 


XXXVII 

FIGHTING    IN   NATURE 

jA  CORRESPONDENT  to  Country  Life  states  that 
/%        he  has  noticed  that  in  the  various  battles 

r     ^     between  ravens  and  golden  eagles,  which 
"^   frequently  take  place  in  the  island  of  Skye, 
the  golden  eagles  are  always  defeated. 

He  enquires  whether  this  phenomenon  is  a  usual 
one  and  how  it  is  that  the  comparatively  weak  raven 
can  vanquish  so  powerful  a  bird  as  the  golden  eagle. 

The  above  statement  and  its  attendant  queries  are 
the  result  of  faulty  observation. 

Such  a  thing  as  a  battle  between  ravens  and  golden 
eagles  has  probably  never  happened.  If  it  did  take 
place  it  could  have  but  one  ending — the  victory  of  the 
golden  eagles. 

Battles  rarely,  if  ever,  occur  in  nature  between 
different  species.  In  order  that  a  battle  may  take 
place  it  is  necessary  that  each  of  the  opposing  species 
should  want  the  same  thing  and  be  ready  to  fight  and, 
if  necessary,  to  sustain  serious  injuries  in  order  to 
obtain  that  thing. 

Now  these  conditions  are  rarely  fulfilled  except  at 
the  breeding  season,  when  males  of  the  same  species 
fight  for  the  females. 

234 


FIGHTING    IN    NATURE  235 

The  only  other  things  over  which  fighting  is  likely  to 
arise  are  food  and  nesting  sites. 

It  frequently  happens  that  birds  of  different  species 
want  the  same  food.  But  this  rarely  leads  to  anything 
in  the  nature  of  a  battle.  In  such  contests  the  weaker 
almost  invariably  gives  way  to  the  stronger  without  any 
fighting. 

A  familiar  instance  of  this  is  afforded  by  the 
behaviour  of  the  white-backed  (Pseudogyps  bengal- 
ensis)  and  the  black  vultures  (Otogyps  calvus)  when 
they  gather  round  a  carcase. 

Jesse  writes,  and  my  experience  bears  out  what  he 
says  :  "  Often  I  have  been  watching  the  vulgar  white- 
backed  herd,  with  a  disreputable  following  of  kites 
and  crows,  teasing  and  fighting  over  a  body,  when 
one  of  these  aristocrats  (i.e.  Otogyps  calvus),  in  his  red 
cap  and  white  waistcoat,  has  made  his  appearance. 
Way  is  immediately  made  for  him,  the  plebeian  herd 
slinking  back  as  if  ashamed  or  afraid,  and  I  cannot 
remember  the  last  comer  ever  being  obliged  to  assert 
his  authority." 

If  the  smaller  vultures,  which  are  the  more  numer- 
ous, chose  to  combine,  they  could  drive  off  the  black 
vultures,  but  in  doing  this  some  of  them  would  run 
the  risk  of  sustaining  injuries.  Now,  it  seems  to  be 
a  rule  in  nature  that  no  creature  will  willingly  run 
such  a  risk.  Rather  than  do  this  an  animal  will  flee 
before  a  comparatively  puny  adversary. 

The  instinct  of  self-preservation,  which  includes  the 
preservation  of  the  body  from  injury,  is  strongly 
developed  in  all  organisms.     Natural  selection  tends 


236         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

to  develop  this  instinct,  because  the  individuals  in 
which  the  instinct  is  strongly  developed  are  less  likely 
to  be  injured  by  fighting  than  those  which  are  pug- 
nacious. In  other  words,  it  does  not  pay  to  fight  in 
nature.  Injured  individuals  are  seriously  handi- 
capped in  the  struggle  for  existence.  Thus  natural 
selection  tends  to  produce  cowards. 

At  the  breeding  season  an  instinct,  which  is  ordi- 
narily dormant  in  birds,  suddenly  becomes  active — 
the  instinct  of  preserving  the  nest  and  its  contents. 

This  instinct,  when  aroused,  frequently  overmasters 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  with  the  result  that 
shy  birds  become  bold,  timid  ones  grow  aggressive, 
little  birds  which  usually  are  terrified  at  the  close 
proximity  of  a  human  being  allow  themselves  to  be 
handled  rather  than  leave  their  eggs  or  young. 

At  the  breeding  season  the  desire  to  protect  the 
nest  leads  many  birds  to  attack,  or  to  make  as  if  to 
attack,  all  intruders. 

No  sight  is  commoner  in  India  than  that  of  a  pair 
of  Httle  drongos  (Dicrurus  ater)  chasing  a  kite  or  a 
crow. 

Similarly  I  have  witnessed  doves  chase  and  put  to 
flight  a  tree-pie  {Dendrocitta  rufa),  and  fantail  fly- 
catchers mob  a  corby  {Corvus  macrorhynchus). 

Nor  are  such  cases  confined  to  India. 

In  England  Mr.  A.  H.  Bryden  states  that  he  has 
seen  sea-gulls  mob  and  put  to  flight  so  formidable  a 
creature  as  a  peregrine  falcon. 

In  each  of  the  above  instances  the  bird  pursued 
could,   if  it  wished,   turn  round  and  rend  its  puny 


FIGHTING   IN    NATURE  237 

adversaries.  Why  does  it  not  do  so  ?  Because  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  is  implanted  in  it  so 
firmly. 

This  instinct  teaches  it  never  to  resist  an  attack,  no 
matter  how  feeble  the  attacker  be. 

The  object  of  the  attack,  provided  it  have  no  nest  to 
defend,  has  everything  to  lose  and  nothing  to  gain  by 
resisting  the  attack  and  giving  battle.  It  matters 
little  to  a  golden  eagle  on  the  look-out  for  quarry  in 
which  direction  it  flies ;  hence  if,  while  it  is  sailing 
through  the  air,  it  is  suddenly  attacked  by  a  couple  of 
infuriated  ravens,  the  obvious  course  is  for  it  to 
change  the  direction  of  its  flight.  If  it  fail  to  do  this 
it  must  either  run  the  risk  of  being  severely  pecked  by 
the  ravens  or  fight  them  and  thereby  expose  itself 
to  injury.  Under  the  circumstances  it  naturally 
chooses  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

It  is  absurd  to  speak  of  a  bird  that  behaves  in  this 
manner  as  being  defeated  in  battle.  It  does  not  suffer 
defeat.    It  merely  declines  to  give  battle. 

The  general  rule  in  nature  is,  "  Never  fight  when  a 
fight  can  be  avoided." 

This  rule  is  unconsciously  followed  by  all  birds, 
except  those  that  have  nests. 

The  most  familiar  example  of  the  rule  in  operation 
is  the  well-known  habit  of  birds  of  surrendering  their 
perches  to  new-comers.  When  individual  A  flies  to  a 
perch  occupied  by  individual  B  the  latter  almost 
invariably  gives  way  without  demur.  The  particular 
perch  is  of  no  value  to  the  occupier,  but  a  whole  body 
may  be  a  matter  of  hfe  or  death. 


XXXVIII 
BIRDS    AND    BUTTERFLIES 

BIOLOGICAL  science  is  at  present  in  a  rather 
peculiar  position.  Biologists  are  divided 
into  two  parties.  On  the  one  side  stand  the 
theorists  and  their  followers ;  on  the  other 
the  practical  men  who  think  for  themselves.  At 
present,  the  theorists  are  the  party  in  power  (and  they 
are  quite  Lloyd-Georgian  in  their  methods),  while  the 
practical  men,  the  breeders  and  the  field  naturahsts, 
form  the  opposition.  The  reason  of  the  division  is 
that  many  facts,  that  have  come  to  light  lately,  do  not 
fit  in  with  the  theories  that  hold  the  field. 

Now,  when  facts  are  discovered  which  mihtate 
against  a  theory  the  proper  course  for  the  holder  of  the 
theory  is  to  test  carefully  the  alleged  facts,  and  if  they 
prove  to  be  really  facts  to  discard  or  modify  his  theory. 
Unfortunately  the  professional  biologists  of  to-day 
do  not  usually  follow  this  course.  They  have  made 
fetishes  of  their  theories,  which  they  worship  as  the 
Israelites  worshipped  the  golden  calf.  The  consequence 
is  that  they  feel  in  honour  bound  either  to  ignore  or  to 
gloss  over  the  facts  that  are  subversive  of  their  fetishes. 
When  they  write  books  in  honour  of  their  fetishes,  they 

238 


BIRDS   AND   BUTTERFLIES  239 

omit  many  facts  which  tend  to  show  that  their  fetishes 
are  shams.  They  regard  the  discussers  of  the  awkward 
facts  as  enemies  to  be  crushed.  Hence  the  gulf  between 
the  two  classes  of  biologists. 

One  of  the  fetishes  of  the  present  day  is  the  theory 
of  protective  mimicry.  Butterflies  and  moths  are  the 
organisms  which  exemplify  best  this  theory. 

It  often  happens  that  two  species  of  butterfly  occur 
in  the  same  locality  which  resemble  one  another  in 
outward  appearance.  In  such  cases  zoologists  assert 
that  one  species  mimics  the  other.  They  maintain  that 
this  mimicry  has  been  brought  about  by  natural  selec- 
tion, because  the  one  species  profits  by  aping  its  neigh- 
bour. The  species  that  is  copied  is  said  to  be  un- 
palatable. The  copy-cat,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
may  be  either  palatable  or  unpalatable.  In  either  case 
it  is  believed  to  profit  by  the  resemblance.  If  it  is 
edible  the  birds  that  are  supposed  to  prey  upon  butter- 
flies are  said  to  leave  it  alone,  because  they  mistake  it 
for  its  unpalatable  neighbour.  This  resemblance  of  an 
edible  form  to  an  unpalatable  one  is  called  Batesian 
mimicry. 

If  the  copy-cat  be  unpalatable  it  is  nevertheless  said 
to  profit  by  the  likeness,  because  young  birds  are 
supposed  to  feed  on  every  kind  of  butterfly  and  only 
to  learn  by  experience  which  are  unpalatable.  The 
theory  is  that  if  they  attack  a  red-coloured  butterfly 
and  find  it  nasty  to  the  taste,  they  leave  all  red-coloured 
butterflies  alone  henceforth.  Thus,  the  imitating 
species  may  benefit  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  other  red- 
coloured  species.    This  is  known  as  Mullerian  mimicry. 


240         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

The  mimicry  theory  is  very  enticing  ;  indeed,  it  is  so 
enticing  that  those  who  hold  it,  as,  for  example.  Pro- 
fessor Poulton,  of  Oxford,  seem  to  think  that  there 
must  be  something  wrong  with  the  evidence  opposed 
to  it. 

I  assert  that  it  is  not  the  evidence  against  the 
theory,  but  the  theory  itself  that  is  wrong. 

The  objections  to  the  hypothesis  are  many  and 
weighty.  Finn  and  I  summarised  most  of  them  in 
The  Making  of  Species. 

Two  of  the  objections  appear  to  be  insuperable. 

The  likeness  cannot  be  of  much  use  until  it  is  fairly 
strong.  How,  then,  is  the  beginning  of  the  resemblance 
to  be  explained  ? 

In  order  that  natural  selection  should  have  produced 
these  astounding  resemblances,  it  is  necessary  that 
butterflies  should  be  preyed  on  very  largely  by  birds  ; 
but  all  the  evidence  goes  to  show  that  birds  very 
rarely  eat  butterflies.  In  the  course  of  some  ten  years 
spent  in  India  I  have  not  seen  butterflies  chased  by 
birds  on  more  than  a  dozen  occasions.  Similarly, 
Colonel  Yerbury,  during  six  years*  observation  in 
India  and  Ceylon,  can  record  only  about  six  cases  of 
birds  capturing,  or  attempting  to  capture,  butterflies. 
Colonel  C.  T.  Bingham,  in  Burma,  states  that  between 
1878  and  1891  he  on  two  occasions  witnessed  the 
systematic  hawking  of  butterflies  by  birds,  although  he 
observed  on  other  occasions  some  isolated  cases. 

Nor  is  the  evidence,  as  regards  India,  confined  to 
the  experience  of  the  casual  observer.  Mr.  C.  W. 
Mason,    when    supernumerary    entomologist    to    the 


BIRDS   AND   BUTTERFLIES  241 

Imperial  Department  of  Agriculture  for  India,  con- 
ducted a  careful  enquiry  into  the  food  of  birds.  The 
enquiry  was  made  at  Pusa  in  Bengal,  in  the  years 
1907,  igo8, 1909.  The  results  arrived  at  by  Mr.  Mason 
are  pubhshed  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  Department  of 
Agriculture  for  India  (Entomological  Series,  Vol.  Ill, 
January,  1912).  As  the  result  of  this  enquiry,  in 
the  course  of  which  the  contents  of  the  stomachs  of 
hundreds  of  Indian  birds  were  examined,  Mr.  Mason 
writes  (page  338,  loc.  cit)  :  "  ButterfUes  do  not  form  any 
appreciable  proportion  of  the  food  of  any  one  species 
of  bird,  though  a  good  many  birds  take  these  insects 
at  times.  .  .  . 

"  The  butterflies  include  a  number  of  minor  pests, 
of  which  Melanitis  ismene  was  taken  by  Merops 
viridis  and  Papilio  pamnion  b}^  Acridotheres  tristis. 
Other  well-known  pests  are  Pieris  hrassicae,  Virachola 
isocrates  and  Papilio  demoleus.  Belenois  mesentina, 
a  Pierid,  was  seen  to  be  taken  on  one  occasion  by 
the  king-crow,  and  Ilerda  sena  by  Passer  domesticus, 
both  of  which  insects  are  neutral. 

*' Moths  include  many  major  pests  of  varied  habits 
— defoliators,  miners,  cut-worms,  grain  and  fabric 
pests.  The  larvae  form  an  inexhaustible  supply  of 
insect  food  to  almost  aU  species  of  insectivorous 
birds,  and  even  many  species  of  birds  that  when 
mature  feed  almost,  if  not  quite,  entirely  on  grain 
and  seeds  are  when  in  the  nest  fed  very  largely  on 
caterpillars  by  the  parent  birds." 

Obviously,  then,  in  India  birds  comparatively 
rarely  attack  butterflies  ;    but  they  devour  millions 


242         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

of  caterpillars.  It  is  the  same  in  other  parts  of  the 
world. 

Mr.  G.  A.  K.  Marshall,  in  the  course  of  five  years' 
observation  in  South  Africa,  recorded  eight  cases  of 
birds  capturing  butterflies. 

Similarly  Mr.  Banta  points  out  in  various  issues  of 
Nature,  in  1912,  that  all  the  evidence  available  shows 
that  in  North  America  birds  very  rarely  capture 
butterflies.  Field  naturalists  scarcely  ever  witness  a 
butterfly  chased  by  a  bird.  Of  40,000  stomachs  of 
birds  examined  very  few  were  found  to  contain  re- 
mains of  butterflies. 

In  191 1  the  butterflies  of  the  species  Eugonia  cali- 
fornica  were  so  numerous  that  "  the  ground  was  often 
blackened  with  them,  and  great  swarms  of  them 
filled  the  air  from  morning  to  evening."  Yet  of  the 
birds  in  the  locality  where  those  butterflies  were  most 
numerous,  only  five  out  of  forty-five  species  were 
found  by  direct  observation  and  stomach  examination 
to  eat  the  eugonia,  and  the  only  bird  that  fed  off  them 
copiously  was  the  brewer  blackbird  {Euphagus  cyano- 
cephalus)  which  is  almost  omnivorous,  and  eats  insects 
of  all  kinds,  even  if  they  be  what  Darwinians  call 
warningly  coloured  ! 

Now,  modern  theorists,  as  a  rule,  ignore  facts  such 
as  these,  and  this  certainly  is  the  wisest  course  they 
can  pursue,  unless  they  are  ready  to  give  up  these 
theories  or  make  themselves  look  foolish. 

Hov/ever,  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  record  that  Pro- 
fessor Poult  on  has,  as  regards  the  remarks  of  Mr.  Banta, 
not  followed  the  usual  course  of  the  modern  theorist. 


BIRDS    AND   BUTTERFLIES  243 

He  has  had  the  courage  to  take  up  the  cudgels 
and  reply  to  Mr.  Banta  in  Nature.  The  reason  of 
this  unusual  course  appears  to  be  that  Mr,  C.  F.  M. 
Swynnerton  has  made  some  observations  in  South 
Africa  which  Professor  Poulton  considers  are  in  favour 
of  his  pet  theory. 

According  to  the  Professor,  Mr.  Swynnerton,  as 
the  result  of  three  and  a  half  years'  investigation 
in  South-East  Rhodesia,  "  has  obtained  the  records 
of  nearly  800  attacks  made  by  35  species  of  birds 
belonging  to  30  genera  and  18  families,  upon  79  species 
of  butterflies  belonging  to  g  families  or  sub-families.'* 

Professor  Poulton  does  not  seem  to  see  that  the 
researches  of  Mr.  Swynnerton  are  altogether  sub- 
versive of  the  theory  of  protective  mimicry.  In 
order  that  natural  selection  may  totally  change  the 
colouring  of  a  butterfly  (as  it  does  according  to  the 
theory  of  protective  mimicry),  that  butterfly  must 
be  habitually  preyed  upon  by  large  numbers  of  birds, 
which  must  be  so  vigilantly  and  unceasingly  on  the 
look-out  for  it,  that  its  only  chance  of  escaping  from 
their  attacks  must  be  for  it  to  assume  a  disguise. 

Compare  with  this  the  state  of  affairs  revealed 
by  Mr.  Swynnerton's  observations.  He  worked 
for  three  and  a  half  years,  and,  as  his  investigations 
extended  to  eighteen  families  of  birds,  they  must  have 
been  very  extensive.  Exactly  how  extensive  they 
have  been  we  do  not  know,  because  he  has  not  yet 
published  them.  Nevertheless,  as  the  result  of  three 
and  a  half  years'  watching  and  stomach  examination 
he  has  evidence  of  only  **  nearly  800  "  attacks  made 


244         GLIMPSES   OF    INDIAN   BIRDS 

by  birds  on  insects  ;  that  is  to  say,  on  an  average 
about  two  attacks  in  three  days  ! 

Watch  a  bee-eater  feeding  and  you  will  see  it  take 
twenty  or  thirty  insects  in  less  than  an  hour.  If  you 
were  to  watch  it  one  whole  day  you  might  see  it 
capture  300  insects,  but  certainly  not  more  than  one 
of  its  victims,  on  an  average,  would  be  a  butterfly. 
Yet,  the  theory  of  mimicry  is  based  upon  the  assump- 
tion that  butterflies  are  so  greatly  preyed  upon  by 
birds  that  they  require  special  means  of  protection  ! 

I  ask  all  who  are  interested  in  the  subject  to  be  ever 
on  the  look-out  for  birds  chasing  butterflies  or  moths. 
These  are  so  large  and  so  easy  to  identify  that  there 
can  be  no  chance  of  mistaking  them.  Even  a  casual 
observer,  when  watching  a  bird,  cannot  fail  to  notice 
the  capture  of  a  butterfly  by  it.  And  when  a  bird  has 
captured  a  butterfly  it  cannot  dispose  of  it  very  quickly. 
According  to  Mr.  Swynnerton,  "  some  (birds)  swallow 
the  insect  (butterfly  or  moth)  whole,  but  usually  after 
masticating  or  beating  it ;  some  remove  inconvenient 
portions  by  '  worrying  '  like  a  dog  or  beating  against 
perch  or  ground ;  some  grasp  the  prey  in  one  foot  and 
tear  off  the  rejected  portions  with  the  bill,  eating  the 
rest  piecemeal." 

The  fact  that  the  average  bird  has  to  go  through 
all  the  above  performances  before  devouring  a  creature 
containing  so  little  nourishment  as  a  butterfly,  is 
sufficient  to  show  that  it  does  not  pay  birds  to  chase 
butterflies. 

But  it  is  best  not  to  rely  on  arguments  to  refute 
the  theories  of  persons  who  have  no  logic  in  them. 


BIRDS   AND   BUTTERFLIES  245 

The  only  way  to  destroy  the  pernicious  zoological 
theories  that  hold  the  field  at  present  is  to  pile  up  the 
facts  that  tell  against  them.  Similarly,  theories  that 
are  true  cannot  be  established  satisfactorily  except 
by  the  accumulation  of  facts.  The  relations  between 
birds  and  butterflies  can  be  determined  only  by  ob- 
servation, and  for  that  kind  of  observation  no  country 
presents  a  better  field  than  India.  Moreover,  such 
observations  can  be  conducted  by  people  having  little 
or  no  scientific  knowledge. 


XXXIX 

VOICES    OF   THE    NIGHT 

THE  stillness  of  the  Indian  night  suffers 
many  interruptions. 
In  the  vicinity  of  a  town  or  village  the 
hours  of  darkness  are  rendered  hideous  by 
the  noises  of  human  beings  and  of  their  appendages — 
the  pariah  dogs.  In  the  jungle  the  "  friendly  silences 
of  the  moon  "  are  continually  disturbed  by  the  bark 
of  the  fox,  the  yelling  of  the  jackal,  or  the  notes  of  the 
numerous  birds  of  the  night. 

The  call  of  the  various  nocturnal  birds  must  be 
familiar  to  every  person  who  has  spent  a  hot  weather 
in  the  plains  of  Northern  India  and  slept  night  after 
night  beneath  the  starry  heavens.  With  the  calls  of 
the  birds  all  are  familiar,  but  some  do  not  know  the 
names  of  the  originators  of  these  sounds. 

First  and  foremost  of  the  fowls  that  hft  up  their 
voices  after  the  shades  of  night  have  fallen  are  the  tiny 
spotted  owlets  (Athene  brama).  Long  before  the  sun 
has  set  these  quaint  little  creatures  emerge  from  the 
holes  in  w^hich  they  have  spent  the  day,  and  treat  the 
neighbours  to  a  "  torrent  of  squeak  and  chatter  and 
gibberish  "  which  is  like  nothing  else  in  the  world,  and 

246 


VOICES   OF   THE   NIGHT  247 

which  Tickell  has  attempted  to  syllabise  as  "  Kucha, 
kwachee,  kwachee,  kwachee,  kwachee,"  uttered  as 
rapidly  as  the  httle  owlets'  breath  will  allow  of.  These 
noisy  punchinellos  are  most  vociferous  during  moonlit 
nights,  but  they  are  by  no  means  silent  in  the  dark 
portion  of  the  month. 

Almost  as  abundant  as  the  spotted  owlet  is  another 
feathered  pigmy — the  jungle  owlet  {Glaiicidium  radi- 
aturn).  This  species,  like  the  last,  calls  with  splendid 
vigour.  Fortunately  for  the  Anglo-Indian  its  note  is 
comparatively  mellow  and  musical.  It  is  not  alto- 
gether unlike  the  noise  made  by  a  motor  cycle  when 
it  is  being  started,  consisting,  as  it  does,  of  a  series  of 
disyllables,  low  at  first  with  a  pause  after  each,  but 
gradually  growing  in  intensity  and  succeeding  one 
another  more  rapidly  until  the  bird  seems  to  have 
fairly  got  away,  when  it  pulls  up  with  dramatic  abrupt- 
ness. The  best  attempt  to  reduce  to  writing  the  call  of 
this  bird  is  that  of  Tickell  :  "  TnrUick,  turtuck,  iuriuck, 
turtuck,  turtuck,  turtuck,  tukatu,  chatuckatuckatuck." 
This  owlet  calls  in  the  early  part  of  the  night  and  at 
intervals  throughout  the  period  of  darkness,  and 
becomes  most  vociferous  just  before  the  approach  of 
"  rosj.'-fingered  dawTi." 

Very  different  is  the  cry  of  the  httle  scops  owl  (Scops 
giu).  This  bird  has  none  of  that  Gladstonian  flow  of 
eloquence  which  characterises  the  spotted  and  the 
jungle  owlets.  His  note  is,  however,  more  befitting  the 
dignity  of  an  owl.  He  speaks  only  in  monosyllables, 
and  gives  vent  to  those  wdth  great  deliberation.  He 
sits  on  a  bough  and  says  "  won'  "  in  a  soft  but  decisive 


248         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

manner.  When  this  pronouncement  has  had  time  to 
sink  into  the  ears  of  his  listeners,  he  repeats  *'  wowy 
and  continues  to  sound  this  impressive  monotone  at 
intervals  of  a  minute  for  several  hours. 

The  above  are  the  three  owls  which  are  most  often 
heard  in  the  plains  of  Northern  India.  Sometimes  all 
three  species,  like  the  orators  in  Hyde  Park,  address 
the  world  simultaneously  from  neighbouring  trees. 

There  are  numbers  of  other  owls  that  disturb  the 
stillness  of  the  night  with  more  or  less  vigour,  but  it 
would  be  tedious,  if  not  impossible,  to  describe  them 
all.  It  must  suffice  to  make  mention  of  the  low, 
solemn  booming  durgoon  durgoon,  of  the  huge  rock- 
horned  owl  (Bubo  bengalensis)  and  the  wheezy 
screech  of  the  barn  owl  (Strix  flammea). 

Another  call,  often  heard  shortly  before  dawn,  is 
doubtless  usually  believed  to  be  that  of  an  owl.  This 
is  the  deep,  whoot,  whoot,  whoot  of  the  coucal  or  crow 
pheasant  {Centropus  sinensis),  that  curious  chocolate- 
winged  black  ground-cuckoo  which  builds  its  nest  in  a 
dense  thicket. 

Unfortunately  for  the  peace  of  mankind  the  coucal 
is  not  the  only  cuckoo  that  hfts  up  its  voice  in  the 
night.  Three  species  of  cuckoo  exist  in  India  which 
are  nocturnal  as  owls,  as  diurnal  as  crows,  and  as  noisy 
as  a  German  band.  A  couple  of  hours'  sleep  in  the 
hottest  part  of  the  day  appears  to  be  ample  for  the 
needs  of  these  super-birds.  From  this  short  slumber 
they  awake,  like  giants  refreshed,  to  spend  the  greater 
portion  of  the  remaining  two-and-twenty  hours  in 
shrieking  at  the  top  of  their  voices. 


VOICES   OF  THE   NIGHT  249 

Needless  to  state  these  three  species  are  the  brain - 
fever  bird,  the  koel,  and  the  Indian  cuckoo — a  tri- 
umvirate that  it  is  impossible  to  match  anywhere  else 
in  the  world.  Some  there  are  who  fail  to  distinguish 
between  these  three  giants,  and  who  believe  that  they 
are  but  one  bird  with  an  infinite  variety  of  notes.  This 
is  not  so.  They  are  not  one  bird,  but  three  birds.  Let 
us  take  them  in  order  of  merit. 

The  brain-fever  bird  or  hawk  cuckoo  [Hierococcyx 
varhis)  is  facile  princeps.  In  appearance  it  is  very  like 
a  sparrow-hawk,  and,  but  for  its  voice,  it  might  be 
mistaken  for  one.  This  species  has  two  distinct  notes. 
The  first  of  these  is  well  described  by  Cunningham  as  a 
'*  highly  pitched,  trisyllabic  cry,  repeated  many  times 
in  ascending  semitones  until  one  begins  to  think,  as 
one  sometimes  does  when  a  Buddhist  is  repeating  his 
ordinary  formula  of  prayer,  that  the  performer  must 
surely  burst."  But  the  brain-fever  bird  never  does 
burst.  He  seems  to  know  to  a  scruple  how  much 
he  may  with  safety  take  out  of  himself.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  dilate  upon  this  note.  Have  we  not  all 
listened  to  the  continued  screams  of  "brain-fever, 
brain-fever,  Brain-fever,"  until  we  began  to  fear  for 
our  reason  ?  The  other  call  is  in  no  way  inferior  in 
magnitude.  It  consists  of  a  volley  of  single  descending 
notes,  uttered  with  consummate  ease — facilis  descensus 
— which  may  or  may  not,  at  the  option  of  the  per- 
former, be  followed  by  one  or  more  mighty  shouts 
of  Brain-fever.  There  is  not  an  hour  in  the  twenty- 
four  during  the  hot  weather  when  this  fiend  does  not 
make  himself  heard  in  the  parts  of  the  country  haunted 


250         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

by  him.  His  range  extenHs  from  Naini  Tal  to  Tuticorin 
and  from  Calcutta  to  Delhi.  Assam,  Sind,  and  the 
Punjab  appear  to  be  the  only  portions  of  India  free 
from  this  cuckoo. 

The  second  of  the  great  triumvirate  is  the  Indian 
koel  {Eudynamis  honor ata).  This  noble  fowl  has  three 
calls,  each  as  powerful  as  the  others. 

The  first  is  a  crescendo  ku-il,  ku-il,  ku-il,  very 
pleasing  to  Indian  ears,  but  too  powerful  for  the  taste 
of  Westerns.  The  second  is  well  described  by  Cunning- 
ham as  an  outrageous  torrent  of  shouts,  sounding 
"  kuk,  Mtlj  kiiu,  kuu,  kun,  kiiul'  repeated  at  brief 
intervals  in  tones  loud  enough  to  wake  the  seven 
sleepers.  When  the  bird  thus  calls  its  whole  body 
vibrates  with  the  effort  put  forth.  The  third  cry  is 
uttered  only  when  the  koel  is  being  chased  by  angry 
crows,  and  is,  as  Cunningham  says,  a  mere  cataract 
of  shrill  shrieks  :    "  Hekaree,  karee." 

For  the  benefit  of  those  unacquainted  with  the 
ways  of  the  koel  it  is  necessary  to  state  that  that  bird 
spends  much  of  its  time  fleeing  before  the  wrath  of 
crows.  It  lays  its  eggs  in  the  nests  of  these.  And, 
if  one  may  judge  from  their  behaviour,  they  suspect 
the  koel.  The  other  two  calls  are  heard  at  all  hours 
of  the  day  and  night,  and  it  makes  no  difference  to 
the  koel  whether  it  is  the  sun  or  the  moon,  or  only 
the  stars  that  are  shining.  He  is  always  merry  and 
bright.  The  second  call,  however,  is  usually  reserved 
for  the  dawn.  Hence  this  particular  vocal  effort  is 
rendered  all  the  more  exasperating,  coming  as  it  does 
precisely  at  the  time  when,  after  the  departure  of  a 


VOICES   OF   THE   NIGHT  251 

"  sable- vested  night  "  straight  from  Dante's  Inferno, 
which  has  been  embelhshed  by  the  sluggishness  of  the 
punkawalla,  a  certain  degree  of  coolness  sets  in  to 
give  some  chance  of  a  little  refreshing  sleep.  Then  is  it 
that  the  jaded  dweller  in  the  plains,  uttering  strange 
oaths,  rushes  for  his  gun  and  seeks  out  the  disturber 
of  his  slumber.  In  case  there  be  any  unable  to  identify 
the  koel,  let  it  be  said  that  the  cock  is  black  from  head 
to  foot,  that  he  possesses  a  wicked-looking  red  eye, 
that  he  is  about  the  size  of  a  crow,  but  has  a  slighter 
body  and  a  longer  tail.  The  hen  is  speckled  black  and 
white.  This  bird  spares  not  even  Sind  or  the  Punjab. 
It  visits  every  part  of  the  plains  of  India,  wintering 
in  the  south  and  summering  in  the  north. 

The  third  of  the  triumvirate,  the  common  Indian 
cuckoo  [Cucitlus  microptenis),  although  in  its  way  a 
very  fine  bird,  is  not  of  the  same  calibre  as  its  confreres. 
It  stands  to  them  in  much  the  same  relation  as  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  does  to  the  Universities  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge.  It  has  quite  a  pleasant  note,  which 
Indians  represent  as  Boutotaku,  but  which  is  perhaps 
better  rendered  by  the  words  "  wherefore,  therefore," 
repeated  with  musical  cadence.  It  does  not  call  much 
during  the  middle  of  the  day.  It  usually  uplifts  its 
voice  about  two  hours  before  sunset,  and  continues 
until  the  sun  has  been  up  for  a  couple  of  hours.  This 
cuckoo  is  very  common  in  the  Himalayas  and  in  the 
plains  of  India  from  Fyzabad  to  Calcutta.  Fyzabad 
ought  really  to  be  renamed  Cuckooabad.  It  is  the 
habitation  of  untold  numbers  of  cuckoos.  There 
during  the  merry  month  of  May  the  cuckoos  spend 


252         GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 

the  night  chanting  anthems  of  which  the  refrain 
runs  kui-il,  ku-il,  ku-il,  wherefore,  therefore,  brain- 
fever,  brain-fever,  brain-fever.  The  Indian  cuckoo 
is  very  like  the  Enghsh  cuckoo  in  appearance,  and  it 
victimises  the  seven  sisters  {Crateropus  canorus)  and 
other  babblers,  as  does  the  brain-fever  bird. 

The  night-loving  cuckoos  have  demanded  so  much 
space  that  the  other  vocalists  of  the  hours  of  darkness 
will  have  to  be  content  with  very  brief  notice. 

The  night  heron  (Nycticoran  griseus)  makes  the 
welkin  ring  with  his  guttural  cries  of  "  waak,  waak," 
uttered  as  he  flies  after  nightfall  from  his  roost  to  the 
pond  where  he  will  fish  till  morning.  As  he  fishes 
in  silence  the  addition  he  makes  to  the  noises  of  the 
night  is  not  great.  The  large  family  of  plovers  must 
be  dismissed  in  a  single  sentence.  They,  like  many 
cuckoos,  regard  sleep  as  a  luxury  ;  hence  their  plaintive 
cries  are  heard  both  by  day  and  by  night.  The  most 
familiar  of  their  calls  is  the  "  did-he-do-it,  pity-to-do-it," 
of  the  red- wattled  lapwing  (Sarcogrammus  indicus). 
The  notes  the  rest  of  his  family  consist  of  variations 
of  the  words  titeri,  titeri. 

In  conclusion,  mention  must  be  made  of  the  night- 
jars or  goatsuckers,  as  they  are  sometimes  called  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Romans,  who  believed  that  these 
birds  used  to  sally  forth  at  night  and  milk  goats.  This 
belief  was  based  on  two  facts.  First,  the  udders  of 
goats  were  often  found  to  be  empty  in  the  morning  ; 
secondly,  the  broad  gape  possessed  by  the  nightjar. 
However,  the  character  of  these  birds  has  now  been 
cleared.    We  know  that  their  bills  are  wide  in  order 


VOICES   OF   THE   NIGHT  253 

to  seize  large  insects  on  the  wing,  and  that  if  goats 
yield  no  milk  in  the  morning  it  is  not  the  nightjar 
who  is  to  blame.  Nightjars  are  brownish  grey  birds, 
mottled  and  barred  all  over  like  cuckoos,  for  which 
they  are  often  mistaken.  Two  are  common  in  India. 
The  first  of  these  is  Caprimulgus  asiaticus,  the  common 
Indian  nightjar,  whose  call  is  heard  only  after  night- 
fall, and  resembles  the  sound  made  by  a  stone  skimming 
over  ice.  The  other  nightjar  is  that  of  Horsfield 
(Caprimulgus  macrurus).  Its  note  has  been  compared 
to  the  noise  made  by  striking  a  plank  with  a  hammer. 
The  distribution  of  nightjars  is  capricious.  They  are 
fairly  common  in  the  western  districts  of  the  United 
Provinces. 

Horsfield's  nightjar  is  abundant  in  the  sal  forests  of 
the  Pihbhit  district. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Accipiter  nistts,  70,  164 
Acridotheres  gmginiayms,  53,   113, 
225-30 

—  irisiiSy  1 13,  225-30,  241 
Adam,  Mr.  R.  M.,  222 
Adams,  77 

Adjutant,  86 
Aegilhina  tiphia^  213 
Aesalon  chicqttera,  117-20 

—  regtdus,  116,  117,  164 
Aitken,  Mr.  James,  154,  155 
Alauda7-iuSy  Tinnunadus^  164 
Alba,  Herodias,  38 

— ,  Motacilla,  162 
Albifrontata,  Khipiduray  4,  214 
Albinos,  42 
Anas  boscas,  64 

—  poecilorhyncha,  40,  64 
Anastoimis  oscitans,  45 
Anthus  riiftihis,  6 
Antigone^  Grus,  38,  197-203 
Aquila  bifasciata,  164 

—  viitdhiana,   163 
Arachnechthra     asiatica^      3,    99, 

218-224 

—  loteniay  218 

—  zeylonicUy  218 
Ardeatinereay  38 
Ardeola  grayiiy  85,  1 06- 1 5 
Argya  caudata,  65 

—  fnalcomiy  51 

Asiatica,     Arachnechthra^    3,    99, 

218-24 
Asiaticiis  capriniidgiis ,  253 
Astur  badius,  70,  164 


^/^r,  DicruriiSy  8,  41,  227,  236 
Athene  brama,  246 
Ajirantius,  Brachyptermis,  8 
AiiricepSy  DendrocopiiSy  33 
Avocet,  44 
Avocetta  rectirvirostra,  44 

Babbler,  grey,  51 

—  jungle,  51 

—  white-headed,  212 
Badius,  Astur,  70 
^a;>^,  178 

Baker,  Stuart,  50,  91 

Bamboo  sparrow,  77 

Banjo-bill,  44 

Bank  myna,   53,  113,  182,225-30, 

235 
Banta,  Mr. ,  242,  243 
Barbet,  green,  8,  19 
Barn  owl,  248 

—  swallow,  151 
Barred-headed  goose,  160 
BatassiensiSy  Tachornis,  215 
Batesian  mimicry,  239 
Baya,  Ploceus,  180 
Bay-backed  shrike,  213 
Bee-eater,  6,  19,  98,  213,  215,  244 

—  blue-tailed,  98,  156 

—  little  green,  98,  156 
Belenois  mese7zttna,  241 
Bengalensis,  Bubo,  248 
— ,  Pseudogyps,  6,  60 
Bingham,  Col.  C.  T.,  240 
Biology,  peculiar  position  of,  238 
Birds  and  Butterflies,  238-45 

257 


258        GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 


"Birds  of  Calcutta,  "224 

••  Birds  of  the  Plains,"  222 

Birostris,  Lopkoceros,  86-90 

Black-bellied  tern,  40,  2l6 

Blackbird,  211 

— ,  Brewer,  242 

Black  bulbul,  49 

Blackcap,  211 

Black -headed  bunting,  179 

Black- winged  kite,  165 

Blanford,  Dr.,  66,  223 

"Blue  jay,"  119,  182,  216 

Blyth,  77,  123 

"  Bombay  Ducks,"  55 

Bonner,  57 

Bourdillon,  Mr.  T.  F.,  17 

Brachyptermis  auraniiuSy  8 

Brachyura,  Pitta,  19 

Brahmany  duck,  161 

—  kite,  212 

—  myna,  212,  217 
Brain-fever  bird,  51,  80,  249 
Bratna,  Athene,  246 
Brassicae,  Pieris,  241 
Brewer  blackbird,  242 
Brown  fish  owl,  175 
Brown-fronted  pied  woodpecker,  33 
Brown  tree  snake,  144 

Bryden,  Mr.  A.  H.,  236 
Bubo  bengalensis,  248 
Biibulcus  coromandus,  45 
Buchanani,  Emberiza,  179 
Bulbul,  146,  147 

—  (nightingale),  146 

—  basta,  147 

—  black,  49 

—  bostha,  147 

—  kola,  49 

— ,  red-vented,  163,  212 
— ,  red-whiskered,  4,  130-44 
Bulbuls'  nests,   130-44 
Bulbul,  white-browed,  212 

—  white-eared,  163 
Bunting,  178-81 

—  black-headed,  179,  180 


Bunting,  grey-necked,  178,  180 

—  red-headed,  179,  180 
Bush  chat,  182 
Bush-lark,  212 
Butcher-bird,  182,  213 
Butreron,  1 30 

Butterflies,  Birds  and,  238-45 
Buzzard,  long-legged,  163 

Caerulus,  Elanm,  165 
Californicay  Eugonia,  242 
Calvus,  Otogyps,  60,  235 
Cambaiensis,  Thamnobia,  8,  162 
Caiididus,  Himantopiis,  45 
Canonis,  Craieropus,  51,  252 
— ,  Cuctihis,  50,  53,  116 
Caprhmilgus  asiaticus,  253 

—  macrurtis,  253 
Carpodacus  erythrinus,  75 
Cattle  egret,  45,  212 
Candata,  Argya,  65 
Centroptn  rufipcnnh,  6 

—  sinensis,  82,  248 
Ceryle  rttdis,  168 
Ceylonensis,  Cxilicicapa,  5 

—  Ketiipa,  175 
Chaffinch,  21 1 
Chapman,  Mr.  Abel,  96 
Chat,  Bush,  182 
Chicqnera,  Aesalon,  117 
Chloropsis,   19 
Cinerea,  Ardea,  38 
Coccystes  jacobintis,  48 
Collar  is,  Corvus,  231 

"  Colour  Meanings  of  some  British 
Birds  and  Quadrupeds,"  188 

Columbidae,  130,  172,  173 

Comb-duck,  40 

"  Common  Birds  of  Bombay,  The," 
70 

Communis,  Coturnix,  159 

Coppersmith,  212 

Copscychus  satilaris,  7 

Coracias  indica,  119,  182 

Corby,  192,  236 


INDEX 


259 


Coromandelianus .,  Nettopus^  39 
CoromanduSy  Btibulctis,  45 
Correlation  of  Characters,  47 
Corvus  collarisy  23 1 
— y)'«i''//<:^^/i-,  166 

—  viacrorhy)ichus\  192,  236 

—  monedula^  166,  231-3 

—  splendens,  165,  225,  231 
Cotton  teal,  39 
Coturnix  cotnmnnis^  159 
Coucal,  82,  248 
"Country  Life,"  28,  234 

'*  Country-side  Monthly,"  66 
Crane,  sarus,  38,  197-203 
Crater  opus  canonis,  51,  252 
Crested  lark,  180 
Cripps,  Mr.  J.  R.,  17 
Cristata,  Galerita,  I  So 
Crocopus,  130 

—  chlorogaster,  127 

—  phoenicopteruSy  127 

Crow,  85,  100,  165,  192,  212,  225, 
231,  236,  250 

—  jungle,  212 
Crow-pheasant,  6,  82,  212 
Cuckoo,  common,  116,  211 

—  Indian,  251 

—  pied  crested,  48-54 
Cuckoo's  mate,  121 
Cuckooabad,  251 

Cticulus  canortis,  30,  53,  116 

—  micropterus  H.,  251 
Culicicapa  ceyloneiisis^  5 
Cunningham,  172 

—  Col.,  249,  250 
Currie,  Mr.,  176,  177 
CyanocephahiSy  Eujdiagtis,  240 

—  Palaeornis ,  7 
Cyornis  HckeliiT.,  5 

Darter,  Indian,  14-18 
Darwin,  20,  173 
Daulias  gohiiy  146,  148 

—  luscinia,  146 

—  Philomela^  146 


Demoleus  Papilio^  241 

De)idrociita  riifa,  236 

Dendrocopus  auric  eps,  33 

Dhayaly  9-13 

Dicj'urus  ater,  8,  227,  236 

Dimorphism,  sexual,   172 

Display,  nuptial,  187 

Doinesticus^  Passer,  82,  24I 

Dove,  192,  211 

— ,  little  brown,  212 

— ,  red  turtle,  104,  172-7 

~,  ring,  174 

— ,  spotted,  120,  212 

— ,  turtle,  174 

Drongo,  236 

Dubiits,  Leptoptihis,  86 

Duck,  brahmany,  161 

— ,  comb,  40 

— ,  pintail,  161 

— ,  shoveller,  161 

— ,  spotbilled,  40,  64 

— ,  wild,  64 


Eagle,  golden,  234 
— ,  Pallas's  fishing,  40 
— ,  steppe,  163,  164 
— ,  tawny,  163,  164 
Egret,  38 
— ,  cattle,  45,  212 
"Eha,"7o,  213,  216 
Elanus  caeriiluSy  165 
Emberiza  buchajiani,  179 

—  luteola,  180 

—  melaocephala,  180 
Emeria,  Olocompsa,  4,  131-44 
Erythrinus  carpodaais,  75 
Eudynamis     ho7iorata,     51,      lOO, 

250 
Eugonia  californica,  242 
Euphagtis  cyanocephaliis,  2.0^1 
Eyesight  of  birds,  80 


Falco  jugger,  164 
— ,  peregrinus,  164 


26o        GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 


Falcon,  69 

— ,  laggar,  164 

— ,  peregrine,  163,  164,  165 

Fan-tailed  flycatcher,  4,  213,  214, 

236 
'♦Field,"  193 

Fighting  in  nature,  234-237 
Finch,  gold,  74 

—  of  roseate  hue,  74-79 

—  rose,  74-79 
Finn,  42,  45,  46,  224 
Firetail,  161,  162,  217 
Fishing  eagle,  40 
Fish-owl,  brown,  175 
Flammea^  Strix,  248 
FlammeiiSy  Pericrocotus,  21 
Flamingo,  19,  91-97 
FlavicoUis^  Gymnorhis^  105,  216 
Flycatcher,  21 1 

— ,  fantailed,  4,  213,  214,  326 

— ,  grey-headed,  5 

— ,  paradise,  45,  46,  100,  157,  215 

— ,  red-breasted,  5 

— ,  Tickell's  blue,  5 

"Food  of  Birds  in  India,"  228 

"  Forest  Creatures,"  57 

"  Fortnightly  Review,"  188,  189 

Frog,  caught  by  kingfisher,  169 

Frugilegus,  Corvus^  166 

Fry,  Mr.  J.  T.,  66 

FuluatUy  Thamnobia,  214 

Gadwall,  161 
Galerita  cristata^  180 
Garner,  Dr.,  25 
Gkrrod,  Mr.  A.,  14 
George  Gissing,  56 
Gingalensisy  Lophoceros,  88 
Ginginianus^  Acridoiho-es^  53 
— ,  Neophron,  55 
Gissing,  George,  56 
6'm,  Scops,  247 
Glareola  lactea,  204-210 
Glancidium  radiatuviy  247 
Goatsuckers,  252,  253 


Goldfinch,  74,  211 
Golden-backed  woodpecker,  212 
Golden  eagle,  234 
Golzii,  Daulias,  146,  148 
Goose,  barred-headed,  160 
— ,  grey-lag,  160 
Grayii,  Ardeola^  85,  106- 15 
Green  finch,  211 

—  parrot,  181,  215 

—  pigeon,  19,  126-30 
Grey-headed  myna,  217 

—  wagtail,  217 
Grey  hornbill,  86-90 

—  lag  goose,  160 
Grey-necked  bunting,  179 
Grey  wagtail,  28,  162,  167 
Griseiis,  Nydicorax,  109,  252 
Gj'us  atitigone,  38,  197-203 

—  sharpii,  197 
Gtilahi  Piai7ia,  158 
Gy7nnorhis  flavkollis,  105,  216 

Hafiz,  147 

Haliaetus  leucoryphus,  40 

Harrial,  128 

Harrier,  183 

Hartert,  Dr.,  148 

Hawks,  light-eyed,  69 

— ,  dark-eyed,  69 

— ,  long-winged,  69 

— ,  short-winged,  69 

Hawk-cuckoo,  249 

Hedge-sparrow,  53,  211 

Herodias  alba,  38 

Heron,  38 

— ,  night,  109,  157,  252 

— ,  pond,  106 

Hierococcyx    varitis,    51,   80,    100, 

249 
Hiinantopus  candidus,  44 
Hips  as  trigonata,  144 
Hirundo  filifera,  153 

—  ritstica,  150,  151,  152 

—  smiihit,  152 
Honeysucker,  99,  218 


INDEX 


261 


Honor ata,    Eudynamis,    51,    100, 

250 
Hoopoe,  83,  90,  117,  185-96,  212 
Hornbill,  86 
— ,  grey,  86-90 
Home,  Mr.,  90; 
Horsfield's  night-jar,  253 
House-martin,    154 
Hume,  72,  90,  118,  148,  176,  198, 

200,  207,  209 
Humming-birds,  218 
HyPsipetes,  49 

Ibis  melanocephalay  44 

Ibis,  white,  44 

Ilerdi  sena,  24 1 

"Indian  Birds,"  219 

Indica^  Coracias,  119,  182 

— ,  Upupa,  83,  185-96 

Indictcs^  Sarcogrammus,  128,  252 

Injury-feigning  instinct,  22,  207 

Instinct,  injury-feigning,  22,  207 

Intermedins y  Molpastes^  163 

lora,  212,  213 

Jsmene,  Melanitis^  241 

Isocraiesy  Virachola^  241 

lynx  torquilla^  I2I 

Jackdaw,  166,  231-3 

Jack  snipe,  161 

JacobinuSy  Coccystes^  48 

Javanica,  Dendrocynca,  40 

Jay,  blue,  119 

Jefferies,  Richard,  211,  212,  216 

Jerdon,  16,  77,  91,  105,  119,  181, 

205,  223,  232,  233 
Jesse,  Mr.  William,  23,  3,  24,  230, 

235 
Jhil  out  of  season,  37-41 
Jungle  owlet,  247 

Kestrel,  163,  164,  165 
Ketupa  ceylonensiSy  175 
Kipling,  232 


Kipling,  Lockwood,  215 
King-crow,  8,   41,    104,   182,   185, 

212,  227,  241 
Kingfisher,  19,  167-71 
— ,  common,  212 
— ,  pied,  168 
— ,  white-breasted,  212 
King  vulture,  60 
Kite,  black-winged,  165 
— ,  brahmany,  212 
— ,  common,  212 
Koel,  50,  51,  100,  157,  212,  250 
Kola  bulbul,  49 


LacteUy  Glareola^  204-10 
Laggar  falcon,  164 
Language  of  birds  and  beasts,  25 
Lanius  vitiatiis,  213 
Lankester,  Sir  E.  Ray,  129 
Lapwing,  red- wattled,  128,  252 
Largest  bird   in  India,   the,    197- 

203 
Lark,  211 

Laughmg- thrush,  Himalayan,  53 
Lawn,  birds  on  the,  80-5 
Leptoptilus  dubius,  86 
LeucorodiUy  Platalea,  44 
LeucoryphuSy  Haliaetus^  40 
Leucotis,  Molpastes^  147 
Linnet,  211 

Liopicus  mahraltensis,  31-6 
Long,  Mr.  Walter,  194 
Lophoceros  birostris^  86-90 
—  gingalensis,  88 
Loten's  sunbird,  212,  218-24 
Luscinia^  Daulias^  146 
Lutcolay  Emberiza^  180 


Macpherson,  Mr.  J.,  66 
Macrorhynchtis y  Corvus,  192,  236 
Macrurus,  Caprimulgus,  253 
Madras  garden,    the    birds    of    a, 
211-7 


26: 


GLIMPSES    OF    INDIAN    BIRDS 


Maderaspatensisy    Motacilla,    162, 

214 
Magpie-robin,  7,  9-i3>  216 
MahrattensiSy  Liopicus,  31-6 
AlainUy  golabiy  158 
"Making   of  Species,    The,"    42, 

240 
Malcomi^  Argya^  51 
Mallard,  64 
Marshall,  Col.,  66 
— ,  Mr.  G.  A.  K.,  242 
Martin,  house,  154 
— ,  sand,  211 

Mason,  Mr.  C.  W.,  228,  240,  241 
Mate,  cuckoo's,  121 
Maura^  Pratincola^  182 
Melanicterus,  Melophxcs,  180 
Melanitis  ismene,  241 
Melanocephala,  Ember iza^  1 80 
Melanocephala^  Ibis^  44 
Melanocephalus ,  Oriohis,  4 
Alelanogaster^  Plotus^  14-18 
— ,  Sterna^  40,  20b 
MelanotuSy  SarcidoTnis,  40 
Melophus  vielanicterus ,  180 
Merlin,  116-20,  163,  164 
— ,  red-headed,  117-20,  164 
Merops  philippinus,  98 

—  viridisy  6,  98,  215,  241 
MesenimUy  Belenois,  241 
Michelet,  59 

Micropteriis,  Cuailus^  251 
Millet  fields.  Birds  in  the,  178-84 
Mimicry,  52,  243 

— ,  Batesian,  239 
— ,  Mullerian,  239 
— ,  protective,  10,  239 
Minivet,  19-24 
Missel-thrush,  211 
Moda  nulingadu,  125 
Molpastes,  147 

—  intermedius,  163 

—  leucotisy  147,  163 
Monedula,  Corvus,  166,  231 
Morgan,  Mr.  R.  W      222 


Motacilla  alba,  162 

—  maderaspatensis ,  162,  214 

—  melanope,  162 
Mullerian  mimicry,  239 
Munia,  white-throated,  216 
Mutation,  46,  64,  174,  225 
Myna,  bank,  53,  113, 182,  225-30 
— ,  brahmany,  212,  217 

— ,  common,  67,  84,  113,  182,  183, 

212,  225-30 
— ,  grey-headed,  217 
— ,  pied,  85,  182 

Natural  Selection,    53,    173,    i74. 

236,  240,  243 
*'  Nature,"  242 
Neophron  ginginianus,  60 
"Nests  and  Eggs  of  Indian  Birds," 

I   Nettopus  coromandelianus,  39 

j   Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  139 

;   Nightingales  in  India,  145-9 

Nightingale,  Persian,  146,  147 
'   Nightjar,  252,  253 

— ,  common  Indian,  253 

— ,  Horsfield's,  253 

Nisus  Accipiter,  70 

Nulingadu,  Moda^  125 

Nuptial  display,  187 

Nycticorax  griseuSy  109,  252 

Oates,  148,  231 

Oenopopelia  tranquebarica,  104,  173 

Open-bill,  45 

Orange  minivet,  21 

Oriole,  4,  103,  I57,  217 

Oriolus  ktindoo,  103 

—  melanocephalus y  4 

Orthotomus  sutorius,  7 

OscitanSy  Anasto?iius,  45 

Osmosteros,  130 

Otocompsa,  147 

— ,  emeria,  4,  131-44 

Otogyps  calvus,  60,  235 


INDEX 


263 


Owl,  barn,  248 

— ,  brown  fish,  175 

— ,  rock-horned,  248 

— ,  scops,  247 

Owlet,  jungle,  247 

— ,  spotted,  212,  246 

Oyler,  Mr.  Philip,  188,  189 

Paddy  bird,  85,  106-15,  212 
Palaeornis  cyanocephalus,  7 

—  torquatuSy  181,  215 
Pallas's  fishing  eagle,  40 
Palm  swift,  213,  215 
Pammon,  FaptliOf  241 
Papilio  dcmoleus,  241 

—  patfifHotty  241 

Paradise   flycatcher,    45,    46,    102, 

157 

Paradisi,     Terpsiphotu^    45,     102, 

215 
Parakeet,  7,  19,  l8i,  213 
Parrot,  green,  181,  215 
Parva^  Siphia,  5 
Passer  domesticus^  82,  178,  241 
Pastor  rosetiSy  158,  189 
Peafowl,  19 

Peregrine  falcon,  164,  165 
Pericrocotus flajinneuSy  21 

—  PeregrinuSy  21 

Persian  nightingale,  146,  147 
Phasianidae,  172 
Pheasant,  19 
Philippinus,  Merops^  98 
Philomela^  Danlias^  146 
Phil  Robinson,  55 
Phoenicopterus  minora  92 

—  rosettSy  91-7 
— ,  Croc  opus,  127 
Phylloscopiis  tristis,  7 
Pied  crested  cuckoo,  48-54 

—  kingfisher,  168 

—  myna,  85,  182 

—  wagtail,  162,  3,  213,  214 
Pigeon,  green,  19,   126-30 
— ,  Bengal,  127 


Pigeon,  southern,  127 

Pintail  duck,  161 

Piping  crow,  232 

Pipit,  6 

Pitta,  19,  216 

Pitta  brae hy lira  y  19 

Platalea  leticorodia,  44 

Place  us  bay  a,  180 

Plotus  melanogaster,  14-8 

Pochard,  161 

Poecilorhyticha,  Anas,  40,  64 

Polar  regions,  birds  of,  42 

Pond  heron,  106 

Pondiccn'anus,  Tephridornis,  214 

Porphyrio,  19 

Poulton,   Professor,  129,  240,  242, 

243 
Pratincola  maura,  182 
Pratincole,  204-10 
Protective  mimicry,  10,239,  243 
Pseiidogyps  bengalensis^  6,  60,  235 
Purple-rumped  sunbird,  212,  218- 

24 
Purple  sunbird,  218-24 

Quail,  common,  159 

Radiatunty  Glaucidium^  zt^J 

Raj  Hans,  97 

Rat  bird,  65 

Raven,  165,  231,  232,  234 

Ray  Lankester,  Sir  E. ,  129 

Recurvirosira  avocetta,  44 

Redstart,  211 

— ,  Indian,  4,  l6i,  162,  217 

Red  turtle-dove,  104,  172-7 

Red-vented  bulbul,  156,  163,  212 

Red-wattled  lapwing,  128,  252 

Regulus  Aesalou,  116,  117,  164 

Rhipidura  albifrontata,  4,  214 

Ring  dove,  174 

Robin,  black-backed,  63 

— ,  brown-backed,  8,  63 

— ,  Indian,  61-68,  162,  212,  214 


264        GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN   BIRDS 


Robinson,  Phil,  55,  162,  174 
Rock-horned  owl,  248 
Roller,  19,  119,  182,  185,  216 
Rook,  25,  166,  211,  231,  232 
Rose-finch,  74-9 
Roseate  hue,  finch  of,  74-79 
Roseusy  Pastor^  158,  18 1 
Rosy  starling,  158,  181 
Rudis  ceryle,  168 
Rufa,  Dendrocitta^  236 
RufipenniSy  CentropuSy  6 
RuJiventriSy  Ruticillay  4,  161 
RufuluSy  AnthuSy  6 
Ruticilla  rufiventris,  4,  161 


Sand  martin,  211 

Saras  crane,  38,  197-203 

Sarcidiornis  nielanotuSy  40 

Sarcogrammus  indicus,  128,  252 

"Saturday  Review," 94 

Saularisy  Copsyckus,  7,  9- 1 3 

"  School  of  the  Woods,"  194 

Scops  giuy  247 

Scops  owl,  247 

SeenUy  SternUy  167 

Selection,   Natural,   53,    173,   174, 

236,  240,  243 
Selous,  Mr.  Edmund,  25,  78 
Senuy  Ilerday  241 
'*  Seven  sisters,"  252 
Sexual  dimorphism,  172 
Shah  bulbul,  216 
Shama,  ii 
Sharpiiy  Grusy  197 
Shikra,  69-73,  164 
Shoveller,  161 

ShiensiSy  CentropuSy  82,  248 
Siphia  parvay  5 
Skylark,  1 16 
Snake,  brown  tree,  144 
Snake-bird,  14-8 
Snipe,  common,  161 
— , jack,  161 
Sparrow,  82,  211 


Sparrow,  yellow-throated,  105,  157, 

216 
Sparrow-hawk,  69,  70,  163,   164 
"  Species,  The  Making  of,"  43 
Sphenocercus,  130 
Splendens,  Corvus,  165,  225,  23 1 
Spoonbill,  44 
Spot-billed  duck,  40,  63 
Spotted  dove,  120,  212 

—  owlet,  212,  246 
Sprosser,  146 
Squirrel,  little  striped,  72 
Stanley,  Bishop,  96,  97,  124,  232, 

233 
Starling,  159,  182,  211 
— ,  rose-coloured,  19,  158,  181 
— ,  rosy,  19,  158,  181 
Steppe  eagle,  163 
Sterna  melanogaster^  40,  206 

—  seenuy  107 
Stilt,  44 
Stone  chat,  211 
Strix  flatmneay  248 
Stuart  Baker,  50,  91 
Sturnopasiory  contra y  85 
Sunbird,  3,  19,  99,  212,  218-24 
— ,  Loten's,  212,  218-24 

— ,  purple,  2\2i-2.i\ 

— ,  purple-rumped,  212,  218-24 

Suratensisy  Turtury  1 20 

Sutoriusy  OrthotomuSy  7 

Swala  ladUy  151 

Swallow,  barn,  151 

— ,  common,  150,  151,  205 

— ,  wire-tailed,  149-56 

Swallow-plover,  204-10 

Swift,  153 

— ,  palm,  213,  215 

Swynnerton,  Mr.  C.  F.   M.,    243, 

244 
Sykes's  warbler,  217 


Tachomis  batassiensis^  215 
Tailor-bird,  7,  212 


INDEX 


265 


Tawny  eagle,  163,  164 

Taylor,  Mr.  Alfred,  28 

Teal,  161 

— ,  cotton,  39 

— ,  whistling,  40 

Tephrodoniis  pondicerianus ,  2 1 4 

Tern,  45,  167-71,  204-10 

— ,  black-bellied,  49,  206 

Tcrpsiphonc     paradisi,     45,      102, 

215 

Thaimiobia,  61 

—  cainbaiensis^  8,  63,  162 

— fulicata,  6t„  214 

Thayer,  Mr.  A.,  97,  188 

Tkcreiceryx  zeylotiicus,  8 

Thompson,  Mr.  R.,  120 

Thought,  power  of  animals  to  ex- 
press, 25-30 

— ,  transmission  of,  26 

Thrush,  211 

— ,  missel,  211 

Tickell,  247 

Tickelli,  Cyornis,  5 

Tilyer,  158 

Tinnunculus  alaudarius^  164 

Tiphia^  ALgithina^  213 

Titmice,  211 

Tomtit,  211 

TorquaiuSy  Palaeornis,  181,  215 

Torquilla^  lynx^  \zi 

Tranquebaricay     CEnopopilia,    104, 

173 
Tree-snake,  brown,  144 
Treron,  130 
Trigonata,  Hipsas,  144 
Tristis,  Acridotheres,  113 
— ,  Phylloscopus,  7 
Turtle-dove,  174 
— ,  red,  104,  172,  177 
Turtur  suratensis,  120 
Turumti,  117-20,  164 
7«//,  76 


Upupa  indica^  83,  185-96 


Varius,  Hierococcyx,    51,   80,  1 00, 

249 
Verner,  Col.  Willoughby,  94 
Virachola  isocratcs^  2.0^1 
Viridis,  Merops,  6,  98,  241 
Visitors,   winter,     to    the    Punjab 

Plains,  157-66 
VittatuSy  Lanius,  213 
Voices  of  the  Night,  246-53 
Vulture,  55-60 
— ,  black,  60,  235 
— ,  domestic,  55 
— ,  king,  60 
— ,  Pondicherry,  60 
— ,  scavenger,  55,  60 
— ,  white-backed,  60,  235 
Wagtail,  85 
— ,  grey,  28,  162,  167 
— ,  grey-headed,  217 
— ,  pied,  162,  213,  214 
— ,  water,  211 
— ,  white,  162 
Wallace,  20,  129 
Wallaceian  theory,  127,  173 
Warbler,  7 
— ,  Sykes's,  217 
— ,  willow,  7 
Water- wagtail,  211 
Watt,  James,  139 
Westell,  Mr.,  233 
White,  Gilbert,  149,  150,  151 
— ,  Birds  in,  42-7 

—  ibis,  44 

—  wagtail,  162 

—  backed  vulture,  60,  235 

—  breasted  kingfisher,  212 

—  browed  bulbul,  212 

—  eared  bulbul,  163 

—  headed  babbler,  212 

—  throated  munia,  216 

"Wild      Life     in      a      Southern 

County,"  211 
Willow-warbler,  7 
Winter     visitors     to    the     Punjab 

Plains,  157-66 


266 


GLIMPSES   OF   INDIAN 


Wire-tailed  swallow,  149-56 
Woodpecker,  golden- backed,' 
— ,  pied,  31-6 
Wood-pigeon,  211 
Wood-shrike,  214 
Wren,  211 
Wryneck,  121-25 


BIRDS 

pied    woodpecker, 


Yellow-fronted 

31-6 
Yellow-hammer,  179 
Yellow-throated  sparrow,  105,  157, 

216 
Yerbury,  Colonel  240 


BY   THE    SAME   AUTHOR 


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NEW  MEMOIRS,  BIOGRAPHIES,  ETC. 


The  Life  &  Letters  of  William 

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A      CATALOGUE      OF 

MEMOIT^S,  "BIOGRAPHIES,  ETC. 

THE    LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    WILLIAM 

COBBETT  IN  ENGLAND  AND  AMERICA.  By  Lewis 
Melville.  Author  of  "  William  Makepeace  Thackeray."  With 
two  Photogravures  and  numerous  other  Illustrations.  2  vols. 
Demy  8vo.      32s.  net. 

THE   LETTER-BAG   OF   LADY  ELIZABETH 

SPENCER  STANHOPE.  By  A.  M.  W.  Stirling.  Author 
of  "Coke  of  Norfolk,"  and  ''Annals  of  a  Yorkshire  House." 
With  a  Colour  Plate,  3  in  Photogravure,  and  27  other 
Illustrations.      2  vols.      Demy  8vo.      32s.  net. 

***  Extracts  might  be  multiplied  indefinitely,  but  we  have  given  enough  to 
show  the  richness  of  the  mine.  We  have  nothing  but  praise  for  the  editor's 
work,  and  can  conscientiously  commend  this  book  equally  to  the  student  of 
manners  and  the  lover  of  lively  a.n&cd.ote."~St3.)tdarci. 

MEMOIRS   OF   THE  COURT  OF  ENGLAND 

IN  1675.  By  Marie  Catherine  Comtesse  d'Aulnoy.  Trans- 
lated from  the  original  French  by  Mrs.  William  Henry  Arthur. 
Edited,  Revised,  and  with  Annotations  (including  an  account  of 
Lucy  Walter)  by  George  David  Gilbert.  With  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      21s.  net. 

J  ***  W'^®"  ^^^  Comte  de  Gramont  went  back  to  France  and  Mr.  Peovs 
decided  that  to  save  his  eyesight  it  was  essential  that  he  should  suspend  his 
Diary,  the  records  of  delectable  gossip  of  the  ever  interesting  Restoration  Court 
became,  of  necessity  sadly  curtailed.  Indeed,  of  the  second  decade  of  the 
Golden  Days  the  sedate  hvelyn  has  hitherto  been  almost  the  only  source  ol 
iniormation  available  to  the  public.  Though  the  Memoirs  of  the  Countess 
dAulnoy  have  always  been  known  to  students,  they  have  never  received  the 
respect  they  undoubtedly  merit,  for  until  Mr.  Gilbert,  whose  hobby  is  the  social 
history  of  this  period,  took  the  matter  in  hand,  no-one  had  succeeded  in  either 
deciphering  the  identity  of  the  leading  characters  of  the  Memoirs  or  of  verifyine 
the  statenients  made  therein.  To  achieve  this  has  been  for  some  years  his  labour 
01  love  and  an  unique  contribution  to  Court  and  Domestic  history  is  the  crown  ol 
ins  abours.  The  Memoirs,  which  have  only  to  be  known  to  rank  with  the 
sparkling  Comte  de  Gramont"  (which  they  much  resemble),  contain  amusine 
anecdotes  and  vivid  portraits  of  King  Charles  II.,  his  son  the  Duke  of  Monmouth 
Prince  Rupert,  Buckingham,  and  other  ruffling  "Hectors"  of  those  romantic 
days.  Among-^  the  ladies  we  notice  the  Queen,  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk  and 
Richmond,  and  the  lively  and  vivacious  Maids  of  Honour.  The  new  Nell  Gwvnn 
matter  is  of  particular  interest.  The  Memoirs  are  fully  illustrated  with  portraits 
not  reproduced  before,  from  the  collection  of  the  Duke  of  Portland  and  others.     ' 

AUSTRIA:      HER     PEOPLE     AND     THEIR 

HOMELANDS.  By  James  Baker,  F.R.G.S.  With  48  Pictures 
in  Colour  by  Donald  Maxwell.      Demy  8vo,      2is.net. 

%*  The  Empire  of  Austria  with  its  strangely  diversified  population  of  raanv 
ongues  IS  but  little  known  to,  English  readers.  The  Capital  aSd  a  few  famJui 
interesting  places,  such  as  Carlsbad,  Marienbad,  the  glorious  Tyrol  and  su?h 
bui^the'  Sn  f  i'  kP^^  ""*^  Innsbruck  are  known  to  thi English  a^lmScaSs; 
D.n.it  ^"^^.•■kable  scenery  of  the  Upper  Elbe,  the  Ultava  or  Moldau  and  the 
?or^^=  '  interesting  peasantry  in  their  brilliant  costumes,  the  wild  mountain 
gorges,  are  quite  outside  the  ken  of  the  ordinary  traveller.  The  volume  is 
TnH  h."«  .^."Th"^  ""  ^l"^^  1873  has  continually  visited  various  parts  of  the  Empire 
and  has  already  written  much  upon  Austria  and  her  peopled      Mr    Baker  was 

also^nt^r/h  ^^^'V^g^P^'T.  Vr^J^  J°^^Ph  *°'-  his  lit^erary  work  and  wS 
also  voted  the  Great  Silver  Medal  hy  the  Prague  Senate.  The  volume  is 
Illustrated  with  48  beautiful  water-colour  picture!  by  Mr.  Donald  Maxwellthl 

sTudies  frtSI"s"orume'  '''"^'"''  ^^°  ^^^  ^^'^^  ^^"^^^^  j^"'-"^^^  ^°  """^'^-  ^- 


A   CATALOGUE   OF 


TAPESTRIES  :     THEIR    ORIGIN,    HISTORY, 

AND  RENAISSANCE.  By  George  Leland  Hunter.  With 
four  full-page  Plates  in  Colour,  and  147  Half-tone  Engravings, 
lare  8vo.     Cloth.      165.  net. 


Squ£ 


%*  This  is  a  fascinating  book  on  a  fascinating  subject.  It  is  written  by  a 
scholar  whose  passion  for  accuracy  and  original  research  did  not  prevent  him 
from  making  a  story  easy  to  read.  It  answers  the  questions  people  are  always 
asking  as  to  how  tapestries  differ  from  paintings,  and  good  tapestries  from  bad 
tapestries.  It  will  interest  lovers  of  paintings  and  rugs  and  history  and  fiction, 
for  it  shows  how  tapestries  compare  with  paintings  in  picture  interest,  with  rugs 
in  texture  interest,  and  with  historic  and  other  novels  in  romantic  interest; 
presenting  on  a  magnificent  scale  the  stories  of  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey,  the 
./Eneid  and  the  Metamorphoses,  the  Bible  and  the  Saints,  Ancient  and  Medieval 
History  and  Romance.  In  a  word,  the  book  is  indispensable  t®  lovers  of  art  and 
literature  in  general,  as  well  as  to  tapestry  amateurs,  owners  and  dealers. 

FROM     STUDIO     TO    STAGE.       By    Weedon 

Grossmith.  With  32  full-page  Illustrations.  Demy  8yo. 
168.  net. 

%*  Justly  famous  as  a  comedian  of  unique  gifts,  Mr.  Weedon  Grossmith  is 
nevertheless  an  extremely  versatile  personality,  whose  interests  are  by  no  means 
confined  to  the  theatre.  These  qualities  have  enabled  him  to  write  a  most 
entertaining  book.  He  gives  an  interesting  account  of  his  early  ambitions  and 
exploits  as  an  artist,  which  career  he  abandoned  for  that  of  an  actor.  He  goes  on 
to  describe  some  of  his  most  notable  roles,  and  lets  us  in  to  little  intimate 
glimpses  "behind  the  scenes,"  chats  pleasantly  about  all  manner  of  celebrities  in 
the  land  of  Bohemia  and  out  of  it,  tells  many  amusing  anecdotes,  and  like  a  true 
comedian  is  not  bashful  when  the  laugh  is  against  himself.  The  book  is  well 
supplied  with  interesting  illustrations,  some  of  them  reproductions  of  the 
author's  own  work. 

FANNY     BURNEY     AT     THE     COURT     OF 

QUEEN  CHARLOTTE.  By  Constance  Hill.  Author  of 
"  The  House  in  St.  Martin  Street,"  "  Juniper  Hall,"  etc.  With 
numerous  Illustrations  by  Ellen  G.  Hill  and  reproductions  of 
contemporary  Portraits,  etc.     Demy  8vo.      i6s.net. 

%*  This  book  deals  with  the  Court  life  of  Fanny  Burney  covering  the  years 
1786-91,  and  therefore  forms  a  link  between  the  two  former  works  on  Fanny 
Burney  by  the  same  writer,  viz.  "The  House  in  St.  Martin  Street,"  and 
"Juniper  Hall."  The  writer  has  been  fortunate  in  obtaining  much  unpublished 
material  from  members  of  the  Burney  farailj'  as  well  as  interesting  contemporary 
portraits  and  relics.  The  scene  of  action  in  this  work  is  constantly  shifting — 
now  at  Windsor,  now  at  Kew,  now  sea-girt  at  Weymouth,  and  now  in  London  ; 
and  the  figures  that  pass  before  our  eyes  are  endowed  with  a  marvellous  vitality 
by  the  pen  of  Fanny  Bnrney.  When  the  court  was  at  St.  James's  the  Keeper  of 
the  Robes  had  opportunities  of  visiting  her  own  family  in  St.  Martin  Street,  and 
also  of  meeting  at  the  house  of  her  friend  Mrs.  Ord  "eveiything  delectable  in  the 
blue  way."  Thither  Horace  Walpole  would  come  in  all  haste  from  Strawberry 
Hill  for  the  sole  pleasure  of  spending  an  evening  in  her  society.  After  such  a 
meeting  Fanny  writes— "  he  was  in  high  spirits,  polite,  ingenious,  entertaining, 
quaint  and  original."  A  striking  account  of  the  Kings  illness  in  the  winter  of 
1788-9  is  given,  followed  by  the  widespread  rejoicings  for  his  recovery ;  when 
London  was  ablaze  with  illuminations  that  extended  for  many  miles  around,  and 
when  "even  the  humblest  dwelling  exhibited  its  rush-light."  The  author  and  the 
illustrator  of  this  work  have  visited  the  various  places,  where  King  George  and 

8ueen  Charlotte  stayed  when  accompanied  by  Fanny  Burney.  Among  these  are 
xford,  Cheltenham,  Worcester,  Weymouth  and  Dorchester ;  where  sketches 
have  been  made,  or  old  prints  discovered,  illustrative  of  those  towns  in  the  late 
i8th  century  savours  of  Georgian  days.  There  the  national  flag  may  still  be  seen 
as  it  appeared  before  the  union. 

MEMORIES   OF    SIXTY    YEARS    AT    ETON, 

CAMBRIDGE  AND  ELSEWHERE.  By  Oscar  Browning. 
Illustrated.      Demy  8vo.      14s.  net. 


MEMOIRS,    BIOGRAPHIES,    Etc.  5 

THE  STORY  OF  DON  JOHN  OF  AUSTRIA. 

By  Padre  Luis  Coloma,  S.J.,  of  the  Real  Academia  Espanola. 
Translated  by  Lady  Moreton.  With  Illustrations.  Demy  8vo. 
165.  net. 

*4f*  "  A  new  type  of  book,  half  novel  and  half  history,"  as  it  is  very  aptly 
called  in  a  discourse  delivered  on  the  occasion  of  Padre  Cbloma's  election  to  the 
Academia  de  Espana,  the  story  of  the  heroic  son  of  Charles  V.  is  retold  by  one  ol 
Spain's  greatest  living  writers  with  a  vividness  and  charm  all  his  own.  The 
childhood  of  Jeromin,  afterwards  Don  John  of  Austria  reads  like  a  mysterious 
romance.  His  meteoric  career  is  traced  through  the  remaining  chapters  ol  the 
book  ;  first  as  ttie  attractive  youth  ;  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  that  were  bright  and 
gay  at  the  court  of  Philip  II.,  which  Padre  Coloma  maintains  was  less  austere 
than  is  usually  supposed  ;  then  as  conqueror  of  the  Moors,  culminatingas  the 
"man  front  God"  who  saved  Europe  from  the  terrible  peril  of  a  Turkish 
dominion  ;  triumphs  in  Tunis  ;  glimpses  of  life  in  the  luxury  loving  Italy  of  the 
day;  then  the  sad  story  ol  the  war  in  the  Netherlands,  when  our  hero,  victim 
of  an  infamous  conspiracy,  is  left  to  die  of  a  broken  heart ;  his  end  hastened  by 
lever,  and,  maybe,  by  the  "broth  of  Doctor  Ramirez.'  Perhaps  more  fully  than 
ever  before  is  laid  bate  the  intrigue  which  led  to  the  cruel  death  of  the  secretary, 
Escovedo,  including  the  dramatic  interview  between  Philip  II.  and  Antonio 
Perez,  in  the  lumber  room  of  tlie  Esconal.  A  minute  account  of  the  celebrated 
auto  da  fe  in  Valladolid  cannot  fail  to  arrest  attention,  nor  will  the  details  of 
several  of  the  imposing  ceremonies  of  Old  Spain  be  less  welcome  than  those  of 
more  intimate  festivities  in  the  Madrid  of  the  sixteenth  century,  or  of  everyday 
life  in  a  Spanish  castle. 

%*  "This  book  has  all  the  fascination  of  a  vigorous  rotnan  a  clef  .  .  .  the 
translation  is  vigorous  and  idiomatic."— ^r.  Owen  Edwards  in  Morning  Post 

THIRTEEN  YEARS   OF  A   BUSY   WOMAN'S 

LIFE.       By  Mrs.  Alec  Tweedie.       With  Nineteen  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      i6s.  net.     Third  Edition. 

^f*,f  It  is  a  novel  idea  for  an  author  to  give  her  reasons  for  taking  up  her  pen 
as  a  journalist  and  u'riter  of  books.  This  Mrs.  Alec  Tweedie  has  done  in 
"Thirteen  Years  of  a  Busy  Woman's  Life."  She  tells  a  dramatic  storv  of  youthful 
happiness,  health,  wealth,  and  then  contrasts  that  life  with  the  thirteen  years  of 
hard  work  that  followed  the  loss  of  her  husband,  her  father,  and  her  income  in 
quick  succession  in  a  few  weeks.  Mrs.  Alec  Tweedie's  books  of  travel  and 
biography  are  well-known,  and  have  been  through  many  editions,  even  to  shilling 
copies  for  the  bookstalls.  This  is  hardly  an  autobiography,  the  author  is  too 
young  for  that,  but  it  gives  romantic,  and  tragic  peeps  into  the  life  of  a  woman 
reared  in  luxury,  who  suddenly  found  herself  obliged  to  live  on  a  tiny  income 
with  two  small  children,  or  work— and  work  hard— to  retain  something  of  her  old 
life  and  interests.  It  is  a  remarkable  story  with  many  personal  sketches  of  some 
of  the  best-known  men  and  women  of  the  day. 

^*^  "One  of  the  gayest  and  sanest  surveys  of  English  society  we  have  read 
for  years." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

4(.%  "A  pleasant  laugh  from  cover  to  cover."— Dai/;'  Chronicle. 

THE    ENGLISH     AND     FRENCH     IN    THE 

XVIIth   century.     By  Charles  Bastide.     With  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.   6d.  net. 

.«f%  The  author  of  this  book  of  essays  on  the  intercourse  between  England 
and  France  in  the  seventeenth  century  has  gathered  much  curious  and  little- 
known  information.  How  did  the  travellers  proceed  from  London  to  Paris?  Did 
the  Frenchmen  who  came  ovei-  to  EngUnd  learn,  and  did  they  ever  venture 
to  write  English?  An  almost  unqualified  admiration  for  everything  French  then 
prevailed  :  French  tailors,  milliners,  cooks,  even  fortune-tellers,  as  well  as  writers 
and  actiesses.  reigned  supreme.  How  far  did  gallomania  afi'ect  the  relations 
between  the  two  countries  ?  Among  the  foreigners  who  settled  in  England  none 
exercised  such  varied  influence  as  the  Hugeiiots  ;  students  of  Shakespeare  and 
Milton  can  no  longer  ignore  the  Hugenot  friends  of  the  two  poets,  historians  of 
the  Commonwealth  must  take  into  account  the  "Nouvelles  ordinaires  de 
Londres."'  the  French  gazette,  issued  on  the  Puritan  side,  by  some  enterprising 
refugee.  Is  it  then  possible  to  determine  how  deeplv  the  refugees  impressed 
English  thought?  Such  are  the  main  questions  to  which  the  book  affords  an 
answer.  With  its  numerous  hitherto  unpublished  documents  and  illustrations, 
drawn  from  contemporary  sources,  it  cannot  fail  to  interest  those  to  whom  a  most 
brilliant  and  romantic  period  in  English  history  must  necessarily  appeal. 


A   CATALOGUE    OF 


THE   VAN   EYCKS   AND   THEIR    ART.       By 

W.  H.  James  Weale,  with  the  co-operation  of  Maurice 
Brockwell.  With     numerous     Illustrations.         Demy     8vo. 

I2S.   6d.  net. 

4t%  The  large  book  on  "Hubert  and  John  Van  Lyck''  which  Mr.  Weale 
published  in  1908  through  Mr.  John  Lane  was  instantly  recognised  by  the 
reviewers  and  critics  as  an  achievement  of  quite  exceptional  importance.  It  is 
now  felt  that  the  time  has  come  for  a  revised  and  slightly  abridged  edition  of  that 
whicii  was  issued  four  years  ago  at  ^5  5s.  net.  The  text  has  been  compressed  in 
some  places  and  extended  in  others,  while  certain  emendations  have  been  made, 
and  aiter  due  reflection,  the  plan  of  the  book  has  been  materially  recast.  This 
renders  it  of  greater  assistance  to  the  student. 

The  large  amount  of  research  work  and  methodical  preparation  of  a  revised 
text  obliged  Mr.  Weale,  through  failing  health  and  eyesight,  to  avail  himself  of 
the  services  of  Mr.  Brockwell,  and  Mr.  Weale  gives  it  as  his  opinion  in  the  new 
Foreword  that  he  doubts  whether  he  could  have  found  a  more  able  collaborator 
than  Mr.  Brockwell  to  edit  this  volume. 

"The  Van  Eycks  and  their  Art,"  so  far  from  being  a  mere  reprint  at  a  popular 
price  of  '•  Hubert  and  John  Van  Eyck,"  contains  several  new  features,  notable 
among  which  are  the  inclusion  of  an  Appendix  giving  details  of  all  the  sales  at 
public  auction  in  any  country  from  i66a  to  1912  of  pictures  reputed  to  be  by  the 
Van  Eycks.  An  entirely  new  and  ample  Index  has  been  compiled,  while  the 
bibliography,  which  extends  over  many  pages,  and  the  various  component  parts 
of  the  book  have  been  brought  abreast  of  the  most  recent  criticism.  Detailed 
arguments  are  given  for  the  first  time  of  a  picture  attributed  to  one  of  the  brothers 
Van  Eyck  in  a  private  collection  in  Russia. 

In  conclusion  it  must  be  pointed  out  that  Mr.  Weale  has,  with  characteristic 
care,  read  through  the  proofs  and  passed  the  whole  book  for  press 

The  use  of  a  smaller /orwa/  and  of  thinner  paper  renders  the  present  edition 
easier  to  handle  as  a  book  of  reference. 

COKE    OF    NORFOLK    AND    HIS    FRIENDS. 

The  Life  of  Thomas  Coke,  First  Earl  of  Leicester  and  of 
Holkham.  By  A.  M.  W.  Stirling.  New  Edition,  revised, 
with  some  additions.  With  19  Illustrations.  In  one  volume. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.   6d.   net. 

THE     EMPRESS     JOSEPHINE.         By     Joseph 

Turquan.        Author     of    "The     Love    Affairs    of    Napoleon," 

"The  Wife  of  General   Bonaparte."       Illustrated.      Demy  8vo. 

I2S.   6d.   net. 

^*^  "The  Empress  Josephine"  continues  and  completes  the  graphically 
drawn  life  story  begun  in  "  The  Wife  of  General  Bonaparte  "  by  the  same  author, 
takes  us  through  the  brilliant  period  of  the  Empire,  shows  us  the  gradual 
development  and  the  execution  ot  the  Emperors  plan  to  divorce  his  middle-aged 
wife,  paints  in  vivid  colours  the  picture  of  Josephines  existence  after  her  divorce, 
tells  us  how  she,  although  now  nothing  but  his  friend,  still  met  him  occasionally 
and  corresponded  frequently  with  him,  and  how  she  passed  her  time  in  the  midst 
of  her  minature  court.  This  work  enables  us  to  realise  the  very  genuine 
affection  which  Napoleon  possessed  for  his  first  wife,  an  affection  which  lasted 
till  death  closed  her  eyes  in  her  lonely  hermitage  at  La  Malmaison,  and  until  he 
went  to  expiate  at  Saint  Helena  his  rashness  in  braving  all  Europe.  CompKir- 
atively  little  is  known  of  the  period  covering  Josephine's  life  after  her  divorce, 
and  yet  M.  Turquan  has  found  much  to  tell  u?  that  is  very  interesting;  for  the 
ex-Empress  in  her  two  retreats,  Navarre  and  La  Malmaison,  was  visited  by  many 
celebrated  people,  and  after  the  Emperor's  downfall  was  so  ill-judged  as  to 
welcome  and  fete  several  of  the  vanquished  hero's  late  friends,  now  his  declared 
enemies.  The  story  of  her  last  illness  and  death  forms  one  of  the  most  interesting 
chapters  in  this  most  complete  work  upon  Ihe  first  Empress  of  the  French. 

NAPOLEON  IN  CARICATURE  :  1795-1821.    By 

A.  M.  Broadley.  With  an  Introductory  Essay  on  Pictorial  Satire 
as  a  Factor  in  Napoleonic  History,  by  |.  Holland  Rose,  Litt.  D. 
(Cantab.).  With  24  full-page  Illustrations  in  Colour  and  upwards 
of  200  in  Black  and  White  from  rare  and  unique  originals. 
2  Vols.     Demy  8vo.     42s.  net. 

Also  an  Edition  de  Luxe.      10  guineas  net. 


MEMOIRS,    BIOGRAPHIES,    Etc.  7 

NAPOLEON'S  LAST  CAMPAIGN  IN  GER- 
MANY. By  F.  LoRAiNK  Petre.  Author  of  "Napoleon's 
Campaign  in  Poland,"  "Napoleon's  Conquest  of  Prussia,"  etc. 
With    17   Maps  and   Plans.      Demy   8vo.      12s.   6d.   net. 

.x.%  In  the  author's  two  first  histories  of  Napoleon's  campaigns  (1806  and  1807) 
the  Emperor  is  at  his  greatest  as  a  soldier.  The  third  (1809)  showed  the 
commencemenc  of  the  decaj'  of  his  genius.  Now,  in  1813,  he  has  seriously  declined. 
The  military  judgment  of  Napoleon,  the  general,  is  constantly  fettered  by  the 
pride  and  obstinacy  of  Napoleon,  the  Emperor.  The  military  principles  which 
guided  him  up  to  1807  are  frequently  abandoned  ;  he  aims  at  secondary  objectives, 
or  mere  geographical  points,  instead  of  solely  at  the  destruction  of  the  enemy's 
army;  he  hesitates  and  fails  to  grasp  the  true  situation  in  a  way  that  was  never 
known  in  his  earlier  campaigns.  Yet  frequently,  as  at  Bautsen  and  Dresden,  his 
genius  shines  with  all  its  old  brilliance. 

The  campaign  of  1813  exhibits  the  breakdown  of  his  OYer-centralised  system 
of  command,  which  lelt  him  without  subordinates  capable  of  exercising  semi- 
independent  command  over  portions  of  armies  which  had  now  grown  to  dimensions 
approaching  those  of  our  own  day. 

The  autumn  campaign  is  a  notable  example  of  the  system  of  interior  lines,  as 
opposed  to  that  of  strategical  envelopment.  It  marks,  too,  the  real  downfall  ol 
Napoleon's  power,  for,  after  the  feariul  destruction  of  1813,  the  desperate  struggle 
of  1814,  glorious  though  it  was,  could  never  have  any  real  probability  of  success. 

FOOTPRINTS  OF   FAMOUS  AMERICANS  IN 

PARIS.  By  John  Joseph  Conway,  M.A.  With  32  Full-page 
Illustrations.  With  an  Introduction  by  Mrs.  John  Lane. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.   6d.  net. 

**^  Franklin,  Jefferson,  Munroe,  Tom  Paine,  La  Fayette,  Paul  Jones,  etc., 
etc.,  the  most  striking  figures  of  a  heroic  age,  working  out  in  the  City  of  Light 
the  great  questions  for  which  they  stood,  are  dealt  with  here,  Longfellow  the 
poet  of  the  domestic  affections  ;  matchless  Margaret  Fuller  who  wrote  so  well  ol 
women  in  the  nineteenth  century;  Whistler  master  of  American  artists;  Saint- 
Gaudens  chief  of  American  sculptors  ;  Rumford,  most  picturesque  of  scientific 
knight-errants  and  several  others  get  a  chapter  each  for  their  lives  and 
achievements  in  Paris.  A  new  and  absorbing  interest  is  opened  up  to  visitors. 
Their  trip  to  Versailles  becomes  more  pleasurable  when  they  realise  what 
Franklyn  did  at  that  brilliant  court.  The  Place  de  la  Bastille  becomes  a  sacred 
place  to  Americans  realizing  that  the  principles  of  the  young  republic  brought 
about  the  destruction  of  the  vilest  old  dungeon  in  the  world.  The  Seine  becomes 
silvery  to  the  American  conjuring  up  that  bright  summer  morning  when  Robert 
Fulton  started  from  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  in  the  first  steam  boat.  The  Louvre 
takes  on  a  new  attraction  from  the  knowledge  that  it  houses  the  busts  of 
Washington  and  Franklyn  and  La  Fayette  by  Houdon.  The  Luxembourg  becomes 
a  greater  temple  of  art  to  him  who  knows  that  it  holds  Whistler's  famous  portrait 
of  his  mother.  Even  the  weather-beaten  bookstalls  by  the  banks  of  the  Seine 
become  beautiful  because  Hawthorne  and  his  son  loitered  among  them  on  sunny 
days  sixty  years  ago.  The  book  has  a  strong  literary  flavour.  Its  history  is 
enlivened  wfth  anecdote.     It  is  profusely  illustrated. 

MEMORIES       OF        JAMES        McNEILL 

WHISTLER  :  The  Artist.  By  Thomas  R.  Way.  Author  of 
"The  Lithographs  of  J.  M.  Whistler,"  etc.  With  numerous 
Illustrations.      Demy  4  to.      los.  6d.  net. 

%*  This  volume  contains  about  forty  illustrations,  including  an  unpublished 
etching  drawn  by  Whistler  and  bitten  in  by  Sir  Frank  Short,  A.R.A.,  an  original 
lithograph  sketch,  seven  lithographs  in  colour  drawn  by  the  Author  upon  brown 
paper,  and  many  in  black  and  white.  The  remainder  are  facsimiles  by  photo- 
lithography. In  most  cases  the  originals  are  drawings  and  sketches  by  Whistler 
w^hich  have  never  been  published  before,  and  are  closely  connected  with  the 
matter  ol  the  book.  The  text  deals  with  the  Author's  memories  of  nearly  twenty 
year's  close  association  with  Whistler,  and  he  endeavours  to  treat  only  with  the 
man  as  an  artist,  and  perhaps,  especially'  as  a  lithographer. 

*Also  an  Edition  de  Luxe  on   hand-made  paper,  with  the   etching 
printed  from  the  original  plate.      Limited  to  50  copies. 
*This  is  Out  of  Print  with  the  Publisher. 


A    CATALOGUE    OF 


HISTORY  OF  THE  PHILHARMONIC  SO- 
CIETY :  A  Record  of  a  Hundred  Years'  Work  in  the  Cause  of 
Music.  Compiled  by  Myles  Birket  Foster,  F.R.A.M.,  etc. 
With  1 6  Illustrations.      Demy  8vo.      los.  6d.  net. 

%*As  the  Philharmonic  Society,  whose  Centenary  is  now  being  celebrated,  is 
and  has  ever  been  connected,  during  its  long  existence,  with  the  history  of 
musical  composition  and  production,  not  only  in  this  country,  but  upon  the 
Coniinent,  and  as  every  great  name  in  Europe  and  America  in  the  last  hundred 
years  (within  the  realm  of  high-class  music),  has  been  associated  with  it,  this 
volume  will,  it  is  believed,  prove  to  be  an  unique  work,  not  only  as  a  book  of 
reference,  but  also  as  a  record  oi  the  deepest  interest  to  all  lovers  of  good 
music.  It  is  divided  into  ten  Decades,  with  a  small  narrative  account  of  the 
principal  happenings  in  each,  to  which  are  added  the  full  programmes  of  every 
concert,  and  tables  showing,  at  a  glance,  the  number  and  nationality  of  the  per- 
formers and  composers,  with  other  particulars  ol  interest.  The  book  is  made  of 
additional  value  by  means  of  rare  illustrations  of  MS.  works  specially  composed 
for  the  Society,  and  of  letters  from  Wagner,  Berlioz,  Brahms,  Liszt,  etc.,  etc., 
written  to  the  Directors  and,  by  their  permission,  reproduced  for  the  first  time. 

IN     PORTUGAL.         By     Aubrey     F.    G.    Bell. 

Author  of  "  The  Magic  of  Spain."        Demy  8vo.        7s.  6d.  net. 

4f%  The  guide-books  give  full  details  of  the  marvellous  convents,  gorgeous 
palaces,  and  solemn  temples  of  Portugal,  and  no  attempt  is  here  made  to  write 
complete  descriptions  of  them,  the  very  name  of  some  of  them  being  omitted. 
But  the  guide-books  too  often  treat  Portugal  as  a  continuation,  almost  as  a  province 
of  Spain.  It  is  hoped  that  this  little  book  may  give  some  idea  of  the  individual 
character  of  the  country,  of  the  quaintnesses  of  its  cities,  a»d  of  peasant  life  in 
its  remoter  districts.  While  the  utterly  opposed  characters  of  the  two  peoples 
must  probably  render  the  divorce  between  Spain  and  Portugal  eternal,  and  reduce 
hopes  of  union  to  the  idle  dreams  of  politicians.  Portugal  in  itself  contains  an 
infinite  variety.  Each  of  the  eight  provinces  (more  especially  those  of  the 
alcMitejanos,  minhotos  and  beiriJcs)  preserves  many  peculiarities  of  language, 
customs,  and  dress  ;  and  each  will,  in  return  for  hardships  endured,  give  to  the 
traveller  many  a  day  of  delight  and  interest. 

A     TRAGEDY     IN     STONE,     AND     OTHER 

PAPERS.       By    Lord     Redesdale,     G.C.V.O.,     K.C.C.,    etc. 
Demy  8vo.     js.   6d.  net. 

*%  "  From  the  author  of  'Tales  of  Old  Japan'  his  readers  always  hope  for 
more  about  Japan,  and  in  this  volume  they  will  find  it.  The  earlier  papers, 
however,  are  not  to  be  passed  over." — Times. 

^*^f  "Lo'-d  Redesdale's  present  volume  consists  of  scholarly  essays  on  a 
variety  ol  subjects  of  historic,  literary  and  artistic  appeal"— Siatidard. 

^'^  "The  author  of  the  classic  'Tales  of  Old  Japan'  is  assured  of  welcome, 
and  the  more  so  when  he  returns  to  the  field  in  which  his  literary  reputation  was 
made.    Charm  is  never  absent  from  his  pages." — Daily  Chronicle, 

MY    LIFE     IN    PRISON.      By  Donald  Lowrie. 

Crown   8vo.       6s.  net. 

^f%  This  book  is  absolutely  true  and  vital.  Within  its  pages  passes  the 
myriorama  of  prison  life.  And.  within  its  pages  may  be  found  revelations  of  the 
divine  and  the  undivine  ;  of  sirange  humility  and  stranger  arrogance  ;  of  free 
men  brutalized  and  caged  men  humanized;  of  big  and  little  tragedies;  of  love, 
cunning,  hate,  deepair,  hope.  There  is  humour,  too  though  sometimes  the  jest  is 
made  ironic  by  its  sequel.  And  there  is  romance— the  romance  of  the  real ;  not  the 
romance  of  Kipling's  g.15,  but  the  romance  of  No.  19,093,  and  of  all  the  other 
numbers  that  made  up  the  arithmetical  hell  of  San  Quentin  prison. 

Few  novels  could  so  absorb  interest.  It  is  human  utterly.  That  is  the  reason. 
Not  only  is  the  very  atmosphere  of  the  prison  preserved,  from  the  colossal  sense 
of  encagement  and  defencelessness,  to  the  smaller  jealousies,  exultations  and 
disappointments  ;  not  only  is  there  a  succession  of  characters  emerging  into  the 
clearest  individuality  and  genuineness,— each  with  its  distinctive  contribution 
and  separate  value  ;  but  beyond  the  details  and  through  all  the  contrasted 
variety,  there  is  the  spell  of  complete  drama,— the  drama  of  liie.  Here  is  the 
underworld  in  continuous  moving  pictures,  with  the  overworld  watching.  True, 
the  stage  is  a  prison;  but  is  not  all  the  world  a  stage  ? 

It  is  a  book  that  should  exercise  a  profound  influence  on  the  lives  of  the 
caged,  and  on  the  whole  attitude  of  society  toward  the  problems  of  poverty  and 
criminality. 


MEMOIRS,    BIOGRAPHIES,    Etc.  9 

AN  IRISH  BEAUTY  OF  THE  REGENCY  :  By 

Mrs.  Warrenne  Blake.  Author  of  "  Memoirs  of  a  Vanished 
Generation,  i  813-1855."  With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and 
other  Illustrations.      Demy  8vo.      i6s.  net. 

*^*The  Irish  Brauty  is  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Calvert,  daughter  of  Viscount  Pery, 
Speaker  of  the  Irisli  House  of  Commons,  and  wile  of  Nicholson  Calvert,  M.P.,  of 
Hunsdon.  Born  in  1767,  Mrs.  Calvert  lived  to  the  ape  of  ninety-two,  and  there 
are  many  people  still  living  who  reiriember  her.  In  ilie  delightful  journals,  now 
for  the  first  time  published,  exciting  events  are  described. 

THE  FOUNDATIONS  OF  THE  NINETEENTH 

CENTURY.  By  Stewart  Houston  Chamberlain.  A  Translation 
from  the  German  by  John  Lees.  With  an  Introduction  by 
Lord  Redesdale.  Demy  8vo.  2  vols.  25s.  net.  Second 
Edition. 

%*  A  man  who  can  write  sucli  a  really  beautiful  and  solemn  appreciation  of 
true  Christianity,  of  true  acceptance  of  Christ's  teachings  and  personality,  as 
Mr.  Chamberlain  has  done.  .  .  .  represents  an  influence  to  be  reckoned  with 
and  seriously  to  be  taken  into  account.'  —Theodore  Roosevelt  tn  the  Outlook,  New 
Yotk. 

%*  •'  It  is  a  masterpiece  of  really  scientific  history.  It  does  not  make  con- 
fusion, it  clears  it  away.  He  is  a  great  generalizer  of  thought,  as  distinguished 
from  the  crowd  of  mere  specialists.  It  is  certain  to  stir  up  thought.  Whoever 
has  not  read  it  will  be  rather  out  of  it  in  political  and  sociological  discussions  for 
some  time  to  come.' — George  Bernard  Shaw  in  Fabian  News. 

%*  "This  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  rare  books  that  really  matter.  His 
judgments  of  men  and  things  are  deeply  and  indisputably  sincere  and  are  based 
on  immense  reading  .  .  .  But  even  many  well-informed  people  .  .  .  will  be 
grateful  to  Lord  Redesdale  for  the  biographical  details  which  he  gives  them  in  the 
valuable  and  illuminating  introduction  contributed  by  him  to  this  English 
translation." — Txrnes. 

THE     SPEAKERS     OF     THE     HOUSE     OF 

COMMONS  from  the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Present  Day,  with 
a  Topographical  Account  of  Westminster  at  Various  Epochs, 
Brief  Notes  on  Sittings  of  Parliament  and  a  Retrospect  of 
the  principal  Constitutional  Changes  during  Seven  Centuries.  By 
Arthur  Irwin  Dasent,  Author  of  "The  Life  and  Letters  of  John 
Delane,"  "The  History  of  St.  James's  Square,"  etc.,  etc.  With 
numerous  Portraits,  including  two  in  Photogravure  and  one  in 
Colour.      Demy  8vo.      21s.  net. 

ROMANTIC  TRIALS  OF  THREE  CENTU- 
RIES. By  Hugh  Childers  With  numerous  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.  6d.  net. 

%*  This  volume  deals  with  some  famous  trials,  occurring  between  the  years 
1650  and  1850,  All  of  them  possess  some  exceptional  interest,  or  introduce 
historical  personages  in  a  fascinating  style,  peculiarly  likely  to  attract  attention. 

The  book  is  written  for  the  general  reading  public,  though  in  many  respects 
it  should  be  of  value  to  lawyers,  who  will  be  especially  interested  in  the  trials  of 
the  great  William  Penn  and  Elizabeth  Canning.  The  latter  case  is  one  of  the 
most  enthralling  interest. 

Twenty-two  years  later  the  same  kind  of  excitement  was  aroused  over 
Elizabeth  Chudleigh.  alias  Duchess  of  Kingston,  who  attracted  more  attention  in 
1776  than  the  war  of  American  independence. 

Then  the  history  of  the  fluent  Dr.  Dodd,  a  curiously  pathetic  one,  is  related, 
and  the  inconsistencies  of  his  character  ver^'  clearly  brought  out;  perhaps  now  he 
may  have  a  little  more  sympathy  than  he  has  usually  received.  Several  im- 
portant letters  of  his  appear  here  for  the  first  time  in  print. 

Among  other  important  trials  discussed  we  find  the  libel  action  aeainst 
Disraeli  and  the  story  of  the  Lyons  Mail.  Our  knowledge  of  the  latter  is  chiefly 
gahered  from  the  London  stage,  but  there  is  in  it  a  far  greater  historical  interest 
than  would  be  suspected  by  those  who  have  only  seen  the  much  altered  story 
enacted  before  them. 


lo A  CATALOGUE  OF 

THE  OLD  GARDENS  OF  ITALY— HOW  TO 

VISIT  THEM.  By  Mrs.  Aubrey  Le  Blond.  With  loo 
Illustrations  from  her  own  Photographs.      Crown  8vo.      5s.  net. 

%*  Hitherto  all  books  on  the  old  gardens  of  Italy  have  been  large,  costly,  and 
incomplete,  and  designed  for  the  library  rather  than  for  the  traveller.  Mrs. 
Aubrey  Le  Blond,  during  the  course  of  a  series  of  visits  to  all  parts  ot  Italy,  has 
compiled  a  volume  that  garden  lovers  can  carry  with  them,  enabling  them  to 
decide  which  gardens  are  worth  visiting,  where  they  are  situated,  how  they  may 
be  reached,  il  special  permission  to  see  them  is  required,  and  how  this  may  be 
obtained.  Though  the  book  is  practical  and  technical,  the  artistic  element  is 
supplied  by  the  illustrations,  one  at  least  of  which  is  given  tor  each  of  the  71 
gardens  described.  Mrs.  Aubrey  Le  Blond  was  the  illustrator  of  the  monumental 
work  by  H.  Inigo  Triggs  on  "The  Art  ot  Garden  Design  in  Italy,"  and  has  since 
taken  three  special  journeys  to  that  country  to  collect  material  for  her  "  The  Old 
Gardens  of  Italy." 

The  illustrations  have  been  beautifully  reproduced  by  a  new  process  which 
enables  them  to  be  printed  on  a  rough  light  paper,  instead  of  the  highly  glazed 
and  weighty  paper  necessitated  by  half-tone  blocks.  Thus  not  only  are  the 
illustrations  delightful  to  look  at,  but  the  book  is  a  pleasure  to  handle  instead  of 
a  dead  weight. 

DOWN   THE    MACKENZIE    AND    UP    THE 

YUKON.  By  E.  Stewart.  With  30  Illustrations  and  a  Map. 
Crown  8vo.      5s.  net. 

*^*  Mr.  Stewart  was  former  Inspector  of  Forestry  to  the  Government  of 
Canada,  and  the  experience  he  thus  gained,  supplemented  by  a  really  remarkable 
journey,  will  prove  of  great  value  to  those  who  are  interested  in  the  commercial 
growth  of  Canada.  The  latter  portion  of  his  book  deals  with  the  various  peoples, 
animals,  industries,  etc.,  of  the  Dominion;  while  the  story  of  the  journey  he 
accomplished  provides  excellent  reading  in  Part  I.  Some  of  the  difficulties  he 
encountered  appeared  insurmountable,  and  a  description  of  his  perilous  voyage 
in  a  native  canoe  with  Indians  is  quite  haunting.  There  are  many  interesting 
illustrations  of  the  places  of  which  he  writes. 

AMERICAN   SOCIALISM    OF  THE  PRESENT 

DAY.  By  Jessie  Wallace  Hughan.  With  an  Introduction 
by  John  Spargo.     Crown  8vo.      5s.  net. 

*^*  All  who  are  interested  in  the  multitudinous  political  problems  brought 
about  by  the  changing  conditions  of  the  present  day  should  read  this  book, 
irrespective  of  personal  bias.  The  applications  of  Socialism  throughout  the 
world  are  so  many  and  varied  that  the  book  is  of  peculiar  importance  to 
English  Socialists. 

THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    BREAD.         By    "A 

Rifleman  "     Crown   8vo.      5s.   net. 

%*^-  This  book  is  a  reply  to  Mr.  Norman  Angell's  well-known  work,  "The 
Great  Illusion"  and  also  an  enquiry  into  the  present  economic  state  of  Europe. 
The  author,  examining  the  phenomenon  of  the  high  food-prices  at  present  ruling 
in  all  great  civilized  states,  proves  by  statistics  that  these  are  caused  by  a 
relative  decline  in  the  production  of  food-stuffs  as  compared  with  the  increase  in 
general  commerce  and  the  production  of  manufactured-articles.  and  that  con- 
sequently there  has  ensued  a  rise  in  the  exchange-values  ot  manufactured-articles, 
which  with  our  system  of  society  can  have  no  other  effect  than  of  producing  high 
food-prices  and  low  wages.  The  author  proves,  moreover,  that  this  is  no  tem- 
porary fluctuation  of  prices,  but  the  inevitable  outcome  of  an  economic  movement, 
which  whilst  seen  at  its  fullest  development  during  the  last  few  years  has  been 
slowly  germinating  for  the  last  quarter-century.  Therefore,  food-prices  must 
continue  to  rise  whilst  wages  must  continue  to  fall. 

THE  LAND  OF  TECK  &  ITS  SURROUNDINGS. 

By  Rev.  S.  Baring-Gould.  With  numerous  Illustrations  (includ- 
ing several  in  Colour)  reproduced  from  unique  originals.  Demy 
8vo.      I  OS.  6d.   net. 


MEMOIRS,    BIOGRAPHIES,    Etc.         ii 
GATES  OF  THE  DOLOMITES.     By  L.  Marion 

Davidson.  With  32  Illustrations  from  Photographs  and  a  Map. 
Crown  Hvo.      Second  Edition.      5s.  net. 

%*  Whilst  many  English  books  have  appeared  on  the  Lande  Tirol,  few  have 
given  more  than  a  chapter  on  the  fascinating  Dolomite  Land,  and  it  is  in  the  hope 
of  helping  other  travellers  to  explore  the  mountain  I.  nd  with  less  trouble  and 
inconvenience  than  fell  to  her  lot  that  the  author  has  penned  these  attractive 
pages.  The  object  of  this  book  is  not  to  inform  the  traveller  h  <\v  to  scale  the 
apparently  inaccessible  peaks  of  the  Dolomites,  but  rather  how  to  find  the  roads, 
and  thread  the  valleys,  which  lead  him  to  the  recesses  of  this  most  lovely  part  of 
the  world's  face,  and  Miss  Davidson  conveys  just  the  knowledge  which  is  wanted 
for  this  purpose  ;  especially  will  her  map  be  appreciated  by  those  who  wish  to 
make  their  own  plans  for  a  tour,  as  it  shows  at  a  glance  tlie  geography  of  the 
country. 

KNOWLEDGE     AND     LIFE.  By     William 

Arkwright.      Crown   8vo.      3s.   6d.   net. 

%*  This  is  a  remarkably  written  book— brilliant  and  vital.  Mr.  Arkwright 
illumines  a  number  of  subjects  with  jewelled  flashes  of  word  Iiarinonv  and  chisels 
them  all  with  the  keen  edge  of  his  wit.  Art,  Letters,  and  Religion  of  different 
appeals  move  before  the  reader  in  vari-coloured  array,  like  the  dazzling  phan- 
tasmagoria of  some  Eastern  dream. 

CHANGING   RUSSIA.     A  Tramp  along  the  Black 

Sea  Shore  and  in  the  Urals.  By  Stephen  Grah.^m.  Author  of 
"  Undiscovered  Russia,"  "  A  Vagabond  in  the  Caucasus,"  etc. 
With  Illustrations  and  a  Map.      Demy  8vo.      7s.  6d.   net. 

%*  In  "  Changing  Russia,"  Mr.  Stephen  Graham  describes  a  journey  from 
Rostof-on-the-Don  to  Batum  and  a  summer  spent  on  the  Ural  M  untains.  The 
author  has  traversed  all  the  region  which  is  to  be  developed  bv  the  new  railway 
from  Novo-rossisk  to  Poti.  It  is  a  tramping  diary  with  notes  and  reflections. 
The  book  deals  more  with  the  commercial  life  of  Russia  than  with  that  of  the 
peasantry,  and  there  are  chapters  on  the  Russia  of  the  hour,  the  Russian  town, 
life  among  the  gold  mmers  of  the  Urals,  the  bourgeois,  Russian  journalism,  the 
intelligentsia,  the  election  of  the  fourth  Duma.  An  account  is  given  of  Rus-sia  at 
the  seaside,  and  each  of  the  watering  places  of  the  Black  Sea  shore  is 
described  in  detail. 

ROBERT  FULTON  ENGINEER  AND  ARTIST : 

HIS  LIFE  AND  WORK.  By  H.  W.  Dickinson,  A.M.I.Mech.E. 
Demy  8vo.      los  6d.  net. 

%*  No  Biography  dealing  as  a  whole  with  the  life-work  of  the  celebrated 
Robert  Fulton  has  appeared  of  late  years,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  introduction 
of  steam  navigation  on  a  commercial  scale,  which  was  his  greatest  achievemeni 
has  recently  celebrated  its  centenary. 

The  author  has  been  instrumental  in  bringing  to  light  a  mass  of  documentary 
matter  relative  to  Fulton,  aud  has  thus  been  able  to  present  the  facts  about  him  in 
an  entirely  new  1  ight  .  The  interesting  but  little  known  episode  of  his  career  as 
an  artist  is  for  the  first  time  fully  dealt  with.  His  sfay  in  France  and  his 
experiments  under  the  Directory  and  the  Empire  with  the  submarine  and  with 
the  steamboat  are  elucidated  with  the  aid  of  documents  preserved  in  tlie  Archives 
Nationales  at  Paris.  His  subsequent  withdravvnl  from  France  and  his 
employment  by  the  British  Cabinet  to  destroy  the  Boulogne  flotilla  that  Napoleon 
had  prepared  in  1804  to  invade  England  are  gone  into  fully.  The  latter  part  of  his 
career  in  the  United  States,  spent  in  the  introduction  of  steam  navigation  and  in 
the  construction  of  the  first  steam-propelled  warship,  is  of  the  greatest  interest. 
With  the  lapse  of  time  facts  assume  naturallv  their  true  perspective.  Fultonl 
instead  of  being  represented,  according  to  "the  English  point  of  view,  as  a 
charlatan  and  even  as  a  traitor,  or  from  the  Americans  as  a  universal  genius,  is 
cleared  from  these  charges,  and  his  pretensions  critically  examined,  with  the 
result  that  he  appears  as  a  cosmopolitan,  an  earnest  student,  a  painstaking 
experimenter  and  an  enterprising  engineer. 

It  is  believed  that  practically  nothing  of  moment  in  Fulton's  career  has  been 
omitted.  The  illustrations,  which  are  numerous,  are  drawn  in  nearly  every  ca=e 
from  the  original  sources.  It  may  confidently  be  expected,  therefore,  that  this 
book  will  take  its  place  as  the  authoritative  biographv  which  everyone  interested 
m  the  subjects  enumerated  above  will  require  to  possess. 


12 A  CATALOGUE  OF 

A   STAINED    GLASS   TOUR   IN    ITALY.       By 

Charles  H.  Sherrill,  Author  of  "  Stained  Glass  Tours  in 
England,"  "  Stained  Glass  Tours  in  France,"  etc.  With 
33  Illustrations.      Demy  8vo.      7s.  6d.  net. 

%*  Mr.  Sherrill  has  already  achieved  success  with  his  two  previous  books 
on  the  subject  of  stained  glass.  In  Italy  he  finds  a  new  field,  which  offers  con- 
siderable scope  for  his  researches.  His  present  work  will  appeal  not  only  to 
tourists,  but  to  the  craftsmen,  because  of  the  writer's  sympathy  with  the  craft. 
Mr.  Sherrill  is  not  onlj'  an  authority  whose  writing  is  clear  in  style  and  full  ol 
understanding  for  the  requirements  of  the  reader.  Taut  one  whose  accuracy  and 
reliability  are  unquestionable.  This  is  the  most  important  book  published  on  the 
subject  with  which  it  deals,  and  readers  will  find  it  worthy  to  occupy  the 
position. 

SCENES   AND    MEMORIES    OF   THE    PAST. 

By  the  Honble.  Stephen  Coleridge.  With  numerous  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.  6d.  net. 

*,*  Mr.  Stephem  Coleridge  has  seen  much  of  the  world  in  two  hemispheres 
and  has  been  able  to  count  among  his  intimate  personal  triends  many  of  those 
whose  names  have  made  the  Victorian  age  illustrious. 

Mr.  Coleridge  fortunately  kept  a  diary  for  some  years  of  his  life  and  has 
religiously  preserved  the  letters  of  his  distinguished  friends  ;  and  in  this  book 
the  public  are  permitted  to  enjoy  the  perubal  of  much  vitally  interesting 
correspondence. 

With  a  loving  and  appreciative  hand  the  author  sketches  the  characters  of 
many  great  men  as  the3'  were  known  to  their  intimate  associates.  Cardinals 
Manning  and  Newman,  G.  F.  Watts,  James  Russell  Lowell,  Matthew  Arnold, 
Sir  Henn.'  Irs-ing,  Goldwin  Smith,  LewisMorris,  Sir  Stafford  Northcote,  Whistler, 
Oscar  Wilde,  Ruskin.  and  many  others  famous  in  the  nineteenth  century  will  be 
found  sympathetically  dealt  with  in  this  book. 

During  his  visit  to  America  as  the  guest  of  the  American  Bar  in  1883,  Lord 
Coleridge,  tlie  Chief  Justice,  and  the  author's  father  wrote  a  series  ofletters, 
which  have  been  carefully  preserved,  recounting  his  impressions  of  the  United 
States  and  of  the  leading  citizens  whcm  he  met. 

Mr.  Coleridge  has  incorporated  portions  ot  these  letters  from  his  father  in  the 
volume,  and  they  will  prove  deeply  interesting  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

Among  the  illustrations  are  many  masterly  portraits  never  before  published. 

From  the  chapter  on  the  author's  library,  which  is  full  of  priceless  literary 
treasures,  the  reader  can  appreciate  the  appropriate  surroundings  amid  which 
this  book  was  compiled. 

ANTHONY  TROLLOPE  :  HIS  WORK,  ASSO- 
CIATES AND  ORIGINALS.  By  T.  H.  S.  Escott.  Demy 
8vo.      1 2s.  6d.  net. 

%*  The  author  of  this  book  has  not  solely  relied  for  his  materials  on  a 
personal  intimacy  with  its  subject,  during  the  most  active  years  of  Trollope's  life, 
but  from  an  equal  intimacy  with  Trollope's  contemporaries  and  from  those  who 
had  seen  his  early  life,  lie  has  derived,  and  here  sets  forth,  in  chronological 
order,  a  series  of  personal  incidents  and  experiences  that  could  not  be  gained 
but  lorthe  author's  exceptional  opportunities.  These  incidents  have  neverl)efore 
appeared  in  print,  but  that  are  absolutely  essential  for  a  right  understanding  of 
the  opinions— social,  political,  and  religious  -of  which  Trollope's  writings  became 
the  medium,  as  well  as  of  the  chief  personages  in  his  stories,  from  the 
"Macdermots  of  Ballycloran  "  (1847;  to  the  posthumous  "Land  Leaguers"  (1883). 
All  litelike  pictures,  whether  of  piace,  individual,  character  of  incident,  are 
painted  from  life.  The  entirely  fresh  light  now  thrown  on  the  intellectual  and 
spiritual  forces,  chiefly  felt  by  the  novelist  during  his  childhood,  youth  and  early 
manhood,  helped  to  place  within  his  reach  the  originals  of  his  long  portrait 
gallery,  and  had  their  further  result  in  the  opinions,  as  well  as  the  estimates 
of  events  and  men.  in  which  his  writings  abound,  and  which,  whether  they  cause 
agreement  or  dissent,  always  reveal  life,  nature,  and  stimulate  thought.  The 
man.  who  had  for  his  Harrow  schoolfellows  Sidney  Herbert  and  Sir  William 
Gregory,  was  subsequently  brought  into  the  closest  relations  with  the  first  State 
offidais  of  his  time,  was  himself  one  of  the  most  active  agents  in  making  penny 

Eostage  a  national  and  imperial  success,  and  when  he  planted  the  first  pillar- 
ox  in  the  Channel  Islands,  accomplished  on  his  own  initiative  a  great  postal 
reform.  A  life  so  active,  varied  and  full,  gave  him  a  greater  diversity  of  friends 
throughout  the  British  Isles  than  belonged  to  any  other  nineteenth  century 
worker,  literary  or  official.  Hence  the  unique  interest  of  Trollope's  course,  and 
therefore  this,  its  record. 


MEMOIRS,  BIOGRAPHIES,  Etc.  13 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLISH  PATRIOTISM. 

By  EsME  C  WiNGHELD  Stratford,  Fellow  King's  College,  Cam- 
bridge. In  2  vols.  Demy  8vo.  With  a  Frontispiece  to  each 
volume,  (1,300  pages).      25s    net. 

%•  This  work  compresses  into  about  HALF  A  MILLION  WORDS  the 
substance  of  EIGHT  YEARS  of  uninterrupted  labour. 

The  book  has  been  read  and  enthusiastically  commended  by  the  leading 
experts  in  the  principal  subjects  embraced  in  this  encyclopaedic  survey  of  English 
History. 

When  this  work  was  first  announced  under  the  above  title,  the  publisher 
suggested  calling  it  "A  New  History  of  England."  Indeed  it  is  both.  Mr. 
Wingfield  Stratford  endeavours  to  show  how  everything  of  value  that  nations  in 
general,  and  the  English  nation  in  particular.have  at  any  time  achieved  has  been 
the  direct  outcome  of  the  common  feeling  upon  which  patriotism  is  built.  He 
sees,  and  makes  his  readers  see,  the  manifold  development  of  England  as  one 
connected  whole  with  no  more  branch  of  continuity  than  a  living  body  or  a  perfect 
work  of  art. 

The  author  may  fairly  claim  to  have  accomplished  what  few  previous 
historians  have  so  much  as  attempted.  He  has  woven  together  the  threads  ot 
religion,  politics,  war,  philosophy,  literature,  painting,  architecture,  law  and 
commerce,  into  a  narrative  of  unbroken  and  absorbing  interest. 

The  book  is  a  world-book.  Scholars  will  reconstruct  their  ideas  from  it, 
economics  examine  the  gradual  fruition  uf  trade,  statesmen  devise  fresh  creative 
plans,  and  the  general  reader  will  feel  he  is  no  insignificant  unit,  but  the  splendid 
symbol  of  a  splendid  world. 


CHARLES  CONDER  :  HIS  LIFE  AND  WORK. 

By  Frank  Gibson.  With  a  Catalogue  of  the  Lithographs  and 
Etchings  by  Campbell  Dodgson,  M.S.,  Keeper  of  Prints  and 
Drawings,  British  Mnseum.  With  about  100  reproductions  of 
Conder's  work,  12  of  which  are  in  colour.     Demy  4to.     21s.  net. 

%*  With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  articles  in  English  Art  Magazines,  and 
one  or  two  in  French,  German,  and  American  periodicals,  no  book  up  to  the 
present  has  appeared  fully  to  record  the  life  and  work  of  Charles  Condor,  by 
whose  death  English  Art  has  lost  one  of  its  most  original  personalities.  Con- 
sequently it  has  been  felt  that  a  book  dealing  with  Conder's  life  so  full  ol  interest, 
and  his  work  so  full  of  charm  and  beauty,  illustrated  by  characteristic  examples 
of  his  Art  both  in  colour  and  in  black  and  white,  would  be  welcome  to  the  already 
great  and  increasing  number  of  his  admirers. 

The  author  of  this  book.  Mr.  Frank  Gibson,  who  knew  Conder  in  his  early 
days  in  Australia  and  afterwards  in  England  during  the  rest  of  the  artist's  life, 
is  enabled  in  consequence  to  do  full  justice,  not  only  to  the  delightful  character 
of  Coader  as  a  friend,  but  is  also  able  to  appreciate  his  remarkable  talent. 

The  interest  and  value  of  this  work  will  be  greatly  increased  by  the  addition 
of  a  complete  catalogue  of  Conder's  lithographs  and  engravings,  compiled  by 
Mr.  Campbell  Dodgson,  M.A.,  Keeper  of  the  Print-Room  ot  the  British  Museum. 


PHILIP    DUKE    OF    WHARTON.       By    Lewis 

Melville.      Illustrated.      Demy  8vo.      21s.  net. 

%*  A  character  more  interesting  than  Philip,  Duke  of  Wharton,  does  not 
often  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  biographer,  yet.  by  some  strange  chance,  though  nearly 
two  hundred  years  have  passed  since  that  wayward  genius  passed  away,  the 
present  work  is  the  first  that  gives  a  comprehensive  account  of  his  life.  A  man 
of  unusual  parts  and  unusual  charm,  he  at  once  delighted  and  disgusted  his 
contemporaries.  Unstable  as  water,  he  was  like  Dryden's  Zimri,  "Everything 
by  starts  and  nothing  long."  He  was  poet  and  pamphleteer,  wit,  statesman, 
buffoon,  and  amorist.  The  son  of  one  of  the  most  stalwart  supporters  of  the 
Hanoverian  dynasty,  he  went  abroad  and  joined  the  Pretender,  who  created  him 
a  duke.  He  then  returned  to  England,  renounced  the  Stuarts,  and  was  by 
George  I.  also  promoted  to  a  dukedom— while  he  was  yet  a  minor.  He  was  the 
friend  of  Attenbury  and  the  President  ol  the  Hell-Fire  Club.  At  one  time  he  was 
leading  Spanish  troops  against  his  countrymen,  at  another  seeking  consolation 
in  a  monastery.     It  is  said  that  he  was  the  original  of  Richardson's  Lovelace. 


14 A   CATALOGUE   OF 

THE   LIFE  OF  MADAME  TALLIEN  NOTRE 

DAME  DE  THERMIDOR  (A  Queen  of  Shreds  and  Patches.) 
From  the  last  days  of  the  French  Revolution,  until  her  death  as 
Princess  Chimay  in  1885.  By  L.  Gastine.  Translated  from 
the  French  by  J.  Lewis  May.  With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece 
and  1 6  other  Illustrations      Demy  8vo.      1 2s.  6d.  net. 

%*  There  is  no  one  in  the  history  of  the  French  Revolution  who  has  been 
more  eagerly  canonised  than  Madame  Talhen  ;  yet  according  to  M.  Gastine,  there 
is  no  one  in  that  history  who  merited  canonisation  so  little.  He  has  therefore  set 
himself  the  task  of  dissipating  the  mass  of  legend  and  sentiment  that  has 
gathered  round  the  memory  of  "/.a  Belle  Tallien"  and  of  presenting  her  to  our 
eyes  as  she  really  was.  The  result  of  his  labour  is  a  volume,  which  combines  the 
scrupulous  exactness  of  conscientious  research  with  the  richness  and  glamour  of 
a  romance.  In  the  place  of  the  beautiful  heroic  but  purely  imaginary  figure  of 
popular  tradition,  we  behold  a  woman,  dowered  indeed  with  incomparable  loveli- 
ness, but  utterly  unmoral,  devoid  alike  of  heart  and  soul,  who  readily  and 
repeatedly  prostituted  her  personal  charms  for  the  advancement  of  her  selfish 
and  ignoble  aims.  Though  Madame  Tallien  is  the  central  figure  of  the  book,  the 
reader  is  introduced  to  many  other  personages  who  played  famous  or  infamous 
roles  in  the  contemporary  social  or  political  arena,  and  the  volume,  which  is 
enriched  by  a  number  of  interesting  portraits,  throws  a  new  and  valuable  light  on 
this  stormy  and  perennially  fascinating  period  of  French  historj'. 

MINIATURES  :       A    Series    of   Reproductions    in 

Photogravure  of  Ninety-Six  Miniatures  of  Distinguished  Personages, 
including  Queen  Alexandra,  the  Queen  of  Norway,  the  Princess 
Royal,  and  the  Princess  Victoria.  Painted  by  Charles  Turrell. 
(Folio.)  The  Edition  is  limited  to  One  Hundred  Copies  for  sale 
in  England  and  America,  and  Twenty-Five  Copies  for  Presentation, 
Review,  and  the  Museums.  Each  will  be  Numbered  and  Signed 
by  the  Artist,      i  5  guineas  net. 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  GUYDE  MAUPASSANT. 

By  his  Valet  FRAN901S.  Translated  from  the  French  by  Maurice 
Reynold.     Demy  8vo.      12s.  6d.  net. 

THE  WIFE  OF  GENERAL  BONAPARTE.     By 

Joseph  Turquan.  Author  of  "  The  Love  AiFairs  of  Napoleon," 
etc.  Translated  from  the  French  by  Miss  Violette  Montagu. 
With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  16  other  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.  6d.  net. 

%*  Although  much  has  been  written  concerning  the  Empress  Josephine,  we 
know  comparatively  little  about  the  veuve  Beauharnais  and  the  ciloyenne 
Bonaparte,  whose  inconsiderate  conduct  during  her  husband's  absence  caused 
him  so  much  anguish.  We  are  so  accustomed  to  consider  Josephine  as  the 
innocent  victim  of  a  cold  and  calculating  tyrant  who  allowed  nothing,  neither 
human  lives  nor  natural  affections,  to  stand  in  the  way  of  his  all-conquering  will, 
that  this  volume  will  come  to  us  rather  as  a  surprise.  Modern  historians  are 
over-fond  of  blaming  Napoleon  for  having  divorced  the  companion  of  his  early 
years ;  but  after  having  read  the  above  work,  the  reader  will  be  constrained  to 
admire  General  Bonaparte's  forbearance  and  will  wonder  how  he  ever  came  to 
allow  her  to  play  the  Queen  at  the  Tuileries. 

THE   JOURNAL   OF  A  SPORTING  NOMAD. 

By  J.  T.  STUDLEY.  With  a  Portrait  and  32  other  Illustrations, 
principally  from  Photographs  by  the  Author.  Demy  8vo. 
I2s,   6d.  net. 

*^f*  "Not  for  a  long  time  have  we  read  such  straightforward,  entertaining 
accounts  of  wild  sport  and  adventure." — Manchester  Guardian. 

*^^*  "  His  adventures  have  the  whole  world  for  their  theatre.     There  is  a 

freat  deal  of  curious  information  and  vivid  narrative  that  will  appeal  to  every- 
o&^"— Standard. 


MEMOIRS,   BIOGRAPHIES,    Etc.      ~i7 
SOPHIE  DAWES,  QUEEN   OF    CHANTILLY. 

By  VioLtiTTE  M.  Montagu.  Author  of  "The  Scottish  College  in 
Paris,"  etc.  With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  i6  other 
Illustrations  and  Three  Plans.      Demy  8vo.      i  zs.  6d.  net. 

%*  Ainon^  the  many  queens  of  France,  queens  by  right  ofmarriaire  witli  the 
re.gmno- sovereign,  queens  of  beauty  or  of  intrigue  the  name  of  Sophie  Dawes, 
the  daughter  of  humble  fisherlolk  in   the  Isle  of  Wight,  better  known  as  "the 

de  Sa'inf  I  iT-'-n^H^^^f^T'-K-'J^^  Q".^^"  of  Chanting"  and  -The  Montespan 
de  Saint  Leu  in  the  land  which  she  chose  as  a  suitable  sphere  in  which  to 
exercise  her  talents  for  money-making  and  for  getting  on  in  the  world,  stand 
forth  as  a  proof  of  what  a  woman  s  will  can  accomplish  when  that  will  is  ac- 
companied with  an  uncommon  share  of  intelligence. 


MARGARET     OF     FRANCE     DUCHESS     OF 

SAVOY.  1 5 23- 1  574.  A  Biography  with  Photogravure  Frontis- 
piece and  16  other  Illustrations  and  Facsimile  Reproductions 
of  Hitherto  Unpublished  Letters.      Demy  8vo.      i  2s.  6d.  net. 

„.  V  A  time  when  the  Italians  are  celebrating  the  Jubilee  of  the  Italian 
^f  iWo.^r'li  '^P^^'h^PS  no  unfitting  moment  in  which  to  glance  back  over  the  annals 
of  that  royal  House  of  Savoy  which  has  rendered  Italian  unity  possible.  Margaret 
ofFrance  may  without  exaggeration  be  counted  among  the  l^uilders  of  modern 
&Vv,^H^"'^T^^  i-manuel  Philibert,  the  founder  of  Savoyard  greatness;  and 
fL^JnttettLlherXpt^^la^"^^^    the  day  of  her  death  she  laboufed  to  advance 

MADAME    DE    BRINVILLIERS     AND     HER 

TIMES.  1 630- 1 676.  By  Hugh  Stokes.  With  a  Photogravure 
Frontispiece  and  16  other  Illustrations.     Demy  8vo.     12s.6d.net. 

fammllTn  th''''"'^  ?^  ^^'''^  Marguerite  d'Aubray,  Marquise  de  Brinvilliers,  is 
famous  in  the  annals  of  crime,  but  the  true  history  of  her  career  is  little  known 
A  woman  of  birth  and  rank,  she  was  also  a  remorseless  poisoner  and  her  trial 
was  one  of  the  most  sensational  episodes  of  the  early  reign  of  Louis  XIV  The 
author  was  attracted  to  this  curious  subject  by  Charles  le  Brun's  realistic  sketch 
of  the  unhappy  Marquise  as  she  appeared  on^her  way  to  execution  ThfsS 
fitdnXvnn.'ft'^  and  agony  forms  the  frontispiece  to  the  volume,  and  strikes  a 
fitting  keynote  to  an  absorbing  st  Dry  of  human  passion  and  wrong-doing. 

THE  VICISSITUDES  OF  A  LADY-IN  WAITING. 

1 7 3  5- 1 8 2 1 .  By  Eugene  Welvert.  Translated  from  the  French 
by  Lilian  O'Neill  With  a  Pnotogravure  Frontispiece  and  16 
other  Illustrations.      Demy  8vo.      125.  6d.  net. 

A^J**.-^Ht  ^"P'^esse  de  Narbonne-Lara  was  Lady-in- Waiting  to  Madame 
Adelaide,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Louis  XV.  Around  the  stately^figure  of  ?Ss 
Re^'^.^b^%^^'^^?^  the  most  remarkable  characters  ot  the  days^  of  tSe  Old 
Regime,  he  Revolution  and  the  first  Empire.  The  great  charm  of  the  vvork  is 
hat  It  takes  us  over  so  much  and  varied  ground,  liere,  in  the  -ay  crowd  of 
ladies  and  courtiers,  in  the  rustle  of  flowery  silken  paniers   in  the  cla tter  of  hieh- 

AnSn.nr''w''^^' K^  ^^""^^  °^  ^^'^'^  '^^-  Louis  XVI.,'  Du  Barri  and  Marie- 
Antoinette.  We  catch  picturesque  glimpses  of  the  great  wits  diplomatists  and 
soldiers  of  the  time,  until,  finally  wl  encounter  Napoleon  Bonaparte? 

ANNALS   OF  A  YORKSHIRE  HOUSE.     From 

the  Papers  of  a  Macaroni  and  his  kindred.  By  A.  M.  W.  Stirling, 
author  of  "Coke  of  Norfolk  and  his  Friends."  With  33 
Illustrations,  including  3  in  Colour  and  3  in  Photogravure. 
Demy  8vo.      2  vols.       32s.  net. 


MEMOIRS,   BIOGRAPHIES,   Etc.         i6 


WILLIAM    HARRISON    AINSWORTH     AND 

HIS  FRIENDS.  By  S.  M.  Ellis.  With  upwards  of  50 
Illustrations,  4  in  Photogravure.      2  \fols.      Demy  8vo.      32s.  net. 

NAPOLEON  AND  KING  MURAT.     1805-18 15  : 

A  Biography  compiled  from  hitherto  Unknown  and  Unpublished 
Documents.  By  Albert  Espitalier.  Translated  from  the  French 
by  ].  Lewis  May.  With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  i6 
other  Illustrations.     Demy  8vo.      1 2S.  6d.  net. 

LADY  CHARLOTTE  SCHREIBER'S  JOURNALS 

Confidences  of  a  Collector  of  Ceramics  and  Antiques  throughout 
Britain,  France,  Germany,  Italy,  Spain,  Holland,  Belgium, 
Switzerland,  and  Turkey.  From  the  year  1 869  to  1885.  Edited 
by  Montague  Guest,  with  Annotations  by  Egan  Mew.  With 
upwards  of  100  Illustrations,  including  8  in  colour  and  2  in 
Photogravure.      Royal  8vo.      2  volumes.      42s.  net. 

CHARLES   DE   BOURBON,    CONSTABLE   OF 

FRANCE:  "The  Great  Condottiere."  By  Christopher 
Hare.  With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  1 6  other  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      12s.  6d.  net. 

THE  NELSONS  OF  BURNHAM  THORPE:  A 

Record  of  a  Norfolk  Family  compiled  from  Unpublished  Letters 
and  Note  Books,  1 787-1 843.  Edited  by  M.  Eyre  Matcham. 
With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  16  other  illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.      i6s.  net. 

%*  This  interesting  contribution  to  Nelson  literature  is  drawn  from  the 
journals  and  correspondence  of  the  Rev.  Edmund  Nelson,  Rector  of  Burnham 
Thorpe  and  his  youngest  daughter,  the  father  and  sister  of  Lord  Nelson.  The 
Rector  was  evidently  a  man  of  broad  views  and  sympathies,  for  we  find  him 
maintaining  friendly  relations  with  his  son  and  daughter-in-law  after  their 
separation.  What  is  even  more  strange,  he  felt  perfectly  at  liberty  to  go  direct 
from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Horatio  Nelson  in  Norfolk  to  that  of  Sir  William  and 
Lady  Hamilton  in  London,  where  his  son  was  staying.  This  bopk  shows  how 
completely  and  without  any  reserve  the  family  received  Lady  Hamilton. 

MARIA  EDGEWORTH  AND  HER  CIRCLE 
IN    THE    DAYS    OF    BONAPARTE    AND     BOURBON. 

By  Constance  Hill.  Author  of  "  Jane  Austen  :  Her  Homes 
and  Her  Friends,"  "Juniper  Hall,"  "The  House  in  St.  Martin's 
Street,"  etc.  With  numerous  Illustrations  by  Ellen  G.  Hill 
and  Reproductions  of  Contemporary  Portraits,  etc.  Demy  8ro. 
2 IS.  net. 

CESAR  FRANCK  :  A  Study.  Translated  from  the 
French  of  Vincent  d'Indy,  with  an  Introduction  by  Rosa  Nbw- 
march.     Demy  8vo.     7s.  6d.  net. 


I