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JUNGLE FOLK

INDIAN NATURAL HISTORY
SKETCHES m DOUGLAS DMAR-

FOR THE PEOPLE

FOR EDVCATION

FOR SCIENCE

LIBRARY

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

NATURAL HISTORY

JUNGLE FOLK

BV THE SAME AUTHOR

BOMBAY DUCKS: An Account of some of
the Everyday Birds and Beasts found in a
Naturalist's El Dorado. With numerous
Illustrations reproduced from Photographs by
Captain Fayrer, I. M.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 Svo.

JUNGLE FOLK

INDIAN NATURAL HISTORY
SKETCHES BY DOUGLAS DEWAR

Sf/^C^U-)

LONDON: JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXII

.'-»■.

.f^cffi^.c^.

WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH

PREFACE

It is not of the bigger jungle folk that I write — of
lions, tigers, leopards, bears, bison, or even deer and
antelopes ; for of these it is vouchsafed to no man —
not even to the shikari, who spends years in the jungle
— to obtain more than an occasional fleeting glimpse.

The subjects of my theme are the lesser fry — viva-
cious mynas, noisy babblers, vociferous cuckoos, silent
herons, beautiful pittas, graceful wagtails, elegant
terns, melodious rock-chats, cheeky squirrels.

A cheery crowd are these. The man who passes his

days in India without knowing them misses much of the

pleasure of life.

D. DEWAR.

CONTENTS

I. Of Indian Birds in General
II. Respectable Cuckoos .

III. The Brown Rock-Chat .

IV. The Scavenger-in-Waiting .
V. Indian Wagtails ....

VI. The Teesa

VII. Falconry in India
VIII. Hawks in Miniature
IX. The Roosting of the Bee-Eaters
X. Owls

XI. A Bundle of Iniquity .

XII. The Interpretation of the Actions of

Animals

XIII. At the Sign of the Farash .

XIV. The Coot

XV. The Beautiful Porphyrio

XVI. The Cobra . . . .
XVII. The Mungoose ....

XVIII. The Swan

XIX, Kites of the Sea

PAGE

32
37
45
51
56

78
84
89

99
104

viii CONTENTS

XX. River Terns .
XXI. Green Bulbuls
XXII. Cormorants

XXIII. A Melodious Drongo

XXIV. The Indian Pitta .
XXV. The Indian White-eye

XXVI. Goosey, Goosey Gander .
XXVII. Geese in India
XXVIII. A Swadeshi Bird .
XXIX. The Indian Redstart
XXX. The Night Heron
XXXI. The Cement of Bird Masons
XXXII. Indian Fly-Catchers

XXXIII. Insect Hunters

XXXIV. The Rosy Starling .
XXXV. The Pied Starling .

XXXVI. A Bird of the Open Plain
XXXVII. Birds in the Cotton Tree
XXXVIII. Ugly Ducklings
XXXIX. Babbler Brotherhoods .
XL. The Mad Babbler .
XLI. The Yellow-eyed Babbler
XLII. The Indian Sand-Martin
XLIII. The Education of Young Birds
XLIV. Birds at Sunset

Index

JUNGLE FOLK

OF INDIAN BIRDS IN GENERAL

LITERARY critics seem to be agreed that we
who write about Indian birds form a
J definite school. ** Phil Robinson," they say,
"^ " furnished, thirty years ago, a charming
model which all who have followed him in writing seem
compelled to copy more or less closely." Mr. W. H.
Hudson remarks : " We grow used to look for funny
books about animals from India, just as we look for
sentimental natural history books from America."

In a sense this criticism is well founded. Popular
books on Indian ornithology resemble one another in
that a ripple of humour runs through each. But the
critics err when they attempt to explain this similarity
by asserting that Anglo-Indian writers model them-
selves, consciously or imconsciously, on Phil Robinson,
or that they imitate one another. The mistake made
by the critics is excusable. When each successive
writer discourses in the same peculiar style the obvious
inference is that the later ones are guilty of more or less

4 JUNGLE FOLK

unconscious plagiarism. The majority of literary critics
in England have not enjoyed the advantage of meeting
our Indian birds in the flesh. To those who do possess
this advantage it is clear that the Indian birds them-
selves are responsible for our writings being " funny."
We naturalists merely describe what we see. The avi-
fauna of every country has a character of its own. Mr.
John Burroughs has remarked that American birds as a
whole are more gentle, more insipid than the feathered
folk in the British Isles. Still greater is the contrast
between EngHsh and Indian birds. The latter are to
the former as wine is to water.

India is peculiarly rich in birds of character. It is
the happy hunting-ground of that unique fowl, Corvus
splendens — the splendid crow — splendid in sagacity,
resource, adaptiveness, boldness, cunning, and de-
pravity ; a Machiavelli, a Shakespeare among birds, a
super-bird. The king crow {Dicrurus ater) is another
superlative. He is the Black Prince of the bird king-
dom. He is the embodiment of pluck. The thing in
feathers of which he is afraid has yet to be evolved.
Like the mediaeval knight, he goes about seeking those
upon whom he can perform some small feat of arms.

When we turn to consider the more outward char-
acteristics of birds, the peacock, the monal pheasant,
the " blue jay," the oriole, the white-breasted king-
fisher, the sunbird, the little green bee-eater, and a host
of others rise up before us. Of these some, showily
resplendent, compel attention and admiration ; others
of quieter hues possess a beauty which cannot be
appreciated unless they be held in the hand and each

OF INDIAN BIRDS IN GENERAL 5

feather minutely examined. At the other extreme
stands the superlative of hideousness, the ugliest bird
in the world — Neophron ginginianiis, the scavenger
vulture. The bill, the naked face, and the legs of this
creature are a sickly yellow. Its plumage is dirty white,
with the exception of the ends of the wing feathers,
which are shabby black. Its shape is displeasing to the
eye, and its gait is an ungainly waddle. Yet even this
fowl looks almost beautiful as it sails on outstretched
pinions, high in the heaven. Between the extremely
beautiful and the extremely ugly birds we meet with
another class of superlatives — the extremely grotesque.
This class is well represented in India. The great
hornbill — Dichoceros hicornis — and the adjutant — Lep-
toptilus dubitis — are birds which would take prizes in
any exhibition of oddities. The former is nearly four
and a half feet in length. The body is only fourteen
inches long, being an insignificant part of the bird,
a mere connecting link between the massive beak and
the great, loosely inserted tail. The beak is nearly a
foot in length, and is rendered more conspicuous than
it would otherwise be by a structure known as the
casque. This is a horny excrescence, nearly as large
as the bill, which causes the bird to look as though it
were wearing a hat which it had placed for a joke on its
beak rather than on its head. The eye is red, and the
upper lid is fringed with eyelashes, which add still
further to the oddity of the bird's appearance. The
creature has an antediluvian air, and one feels when
contemplating it that its proper companions are the
monsters that lived in prehistoric times. The actions

6 JUNGLE FOLK

of the hornbill are in keeping with its appearance. It
is the clown of the forest.

Even more grotesque is the adjutant. This is a
stork with an enormous bill, a tiny head, and long neck,
both innocent of feathers. From the front of the neck
hangs a considerable pouch, which the bird can inflate
at will. Round the base of the neck is a ruff of white
feathers that causes the bird to look as though it had
donned a lady's feather boa. It is the habit of the
adjutant to stand with its head buried in its shoulders,
so that, when looked at from behind, it resembles
a hunch-backed, shrivelled-up old man, wearing a grey
swallow-tailed coat. It looks still more ludicrous when
it varies the monotony of Hfe by kneeling down; its
long shanks are then stretched out before it, giving the
idea that they have been mistakenly inserted hind part
foremost ! Its movements partake of the nature of a
cake-walk. ** For grotesque devilry of dancing," writes
Lockwood Kipling, " the Indian adjutant beats crea-
tion. Don Quixote or Malvolio were not half so solemn
or mincing, and yet there is an abandonment and hght-
ness of step, a wild lift in each solemn prance, which
are almost demoniacal. If it were possible for the
most angular, tall, and demure of elderly maiden ladies
to take a great deal too much champagne, and then to
give a lesson in ballet dancing, with occasional pauses
of acute sobriety, perhaps some faint idea might be
conveyed of the peculiar quality of the adjutant's
movements." If the hornbill be the clown of the
forest, the adjutant is the buffoon of the open plain.

Consider for a Httle avine craftsmanship, and you

OF INDIAN BIRDS IN GENERAL 7

will find no lack of superlatives among our Indian birds.
The weaver-bird (Ploceus hay a) , the wren -warbler (Prinia
inornata) are past masters of the art of weaving. The
tailor-bird {Orthotomus sutorius), as its name implies,
has brought the sartorial art to a pitch of perfection
which is not likely to be excelled by any creature
who has no needle other than its beak.

If there be any characteristic in which Indian birds
are not pre-eminent it is perhaps the art of singing.
A notion is abroad that Indian birds cannot sing. They
are able to scream, croak, and make all manner of weird
noises, but to sing they know not how. This idea
perhaps derives its origin from Charles Kingsley, who
wrote : '* True melody, it must be remembered, is un-
known, at least at present, in the tropics and peculiar
to the races of those temperate climes into which the
song-birds come in spring." This is, of course, absurd.
Song-birds are numerous in India. They do not make
the same impression upon us as do our English birds
because their song has not those associations which
render dear to us the melody of birds in the homeland.
Further, there is nothing in India which corresponds
to the English spring, when the passion of the earth
is at its highest, because there is in that country no sad
and dismal winter-time, when life is sluggish and feeble.
The excessive joy, the rapture, the ecstasy with which
we greet the spring in the British Isles is, to a certain
extent, a reaction. There suddenly rushes in upon the
songless winter a mighty chorus, a tumult of birds to
which we can scarcely fail to attach a fictitious value.
India possesses some song-birds which can hold their

8 JUNGLE FOLK

own in any company. If the shama, the magpie-robin,
the fan-tailed fly-catcher, the white-eye, the purple
sunbird, the orange-headed ground thrush, and the
bhimraj visited England in the summer, they would
soon supplant in popular favour some of our British
song-birds.

Another feature of the Indian avifauna is its richness
in species. Gates and Blanford describe over sixteen
hundred of these. To the non-ornithological reader
this may not convey much. He will probably obtain
a better idea of the wealth of the Indian avifauna when
he hears that among Indian birds there are numbered
io8 different kinds of warbler, 56 woodpeckers, 30
cuckoos, 28 starlings, 17 butcher-birds, 16 kingfishers,
and 8 crows. The wealth of the fauna is partly ac-
counted for by the fact that India lies in two of the
great divisions of the ornithological world. The
Himalayas form part of the Palsearctic region, while
the plains are included in the Oriental region.

Finally, Indian birds generally are characterised by
their fearlessness of man. It is therefore comparatively
easy to study their habits. I can count no fewer than
twenty different species which, during past nesting
seasons, have elected to share with me the bungalow
that I happened to occupy. Is it then surprising that
an unbounded enthusiasm should pervade the writings
of all Indian naturalists, that these should constantly
bubble over with humour ? The materials on which
we work are superior to those vouchsafed to the
ornithologists of other countries. Our writings must,
therefore, other things being equal, excel theirs.

RESPECTABLE CUCKOOS

THE general public derives its ideas regarding
the manners and customs of the cuckoos
from those of Cuculus canorus, the only
species that patronises the British Isles.
" The Man in the Street," that unfortunate individual
who seems never by any chance to catch hold of the
right end of the stick, is much surprised, or is expected
to express great surprise, when he is informed that some
cuckoos are not parasitic, that not a few of them
refuse to commit their eggs and young ones to the
tender mercies of strangers. The non-parasitic cuckoos
build nests, lay eggs and sit on them, as every self-
respecting bird should do. All the American species
of cuckoo lead virtuous lives in this respect. But the
Western Hemisphere has its evil-hving birds, for many
cow-birds — ^near relatives of the starlings — lay their
eggs in the nests of their fellow-creatures ; some of them
go so far as to victimise the more respectable members
of their own brotherhood.

There are several upright cuckoos among our Indian
birds, so that there is no necessity for us to go to
America in order to study the ways of the non-parasitic
species of cuckoo.

lo JUNGLE FOLK

First and foremost among these is our familiar friend
the coucal, or crow-pheasant {Centropus sinensis),
known also as the lark-heeled cuckoo, because the
hindmost of its toes has a long straight claw, hke that
of the lark. This cuckoo is sometimes dubbed the
" Griff's pheasant," because the new arrival in India
frequently mistakes the bird for a pheasant, and there-
by becomes the laughing-stock of the *' Koi-Hais."

It always seems to me that it is not quite fair to poke
fun at one who makes this mistake. A man cannot
be expected to know by instinct which birds are
pheasants and which are not. The coucal is nearly as
large as some species of pheasant, and rejoices in a tail
fully ten inches long ; moreover, the bird is usually
seen walking on the ground. Further, Dr. Blanford
states that crow-pheasants are regarded as a great
dehcacy by Indian Mohammedans, and by some Hindu
castes. I have never partaken of the flesh of the coucal,
and those Europeans who have done so do not seem
anxious to repeat the experiment. Its breast is smaller
than that of a dak bungalow murghi, for its wing
muscles are very small. As to its flavour, Col. Cunning-
ham informs us, in his volume Some Indian Friends and
Acquaintances, that " a young fellow, who had recently
arrived in the country, complained with good reason of
the evil flavour of a ' pheasant ' that one of his chums
had shot near a native village, and had, much to the
astonishment of the servants, brought home to be
cooked and partaken of as a game-bird." There is an
alHed species of crow-pheasant, which is still more like
a long-tailed game-bird, so much so that it is known

RESPECTABLE CUCKOOS ii

to zoologists as Centvopus phasianus. Here, then, we
have examples of cuckoos which resemble other species
and suffer in consequence. What have those naturalists
who declare that mimicry is due to natural selection to
say to this ?

The crow-pheasant is an easy bird to identify. The
wings are chestnut in colour, while all the remainder
of the plumage is black with a green or purple gloss.

But for the fact that the brown wings do not match
well with the rest of the plumage, I should call the
coucal a handsome bird. This, however, is not
" Eha's " view.

The crow-pheasant is widely distributed in India,
being found in gardens, in cultivated fields, and in the
jungle. All the bird demands is a thicket or hedgerow
in which it can take cover when disturbed. It does not
wander far from shelter, for it is a poor flier. Its diet
is made up chiefly of insects, but not infrequently it
captures larger quarry in the shape of scorpions, Hzards,
small snakes, and the hke dehcacies. Probably fresh-
water mollusca and Crustacea do not come amiss to
the bird, for on occasions I have seen it wading in a
nearly dried-up pond. It certainly picks much of its
food from off the ground, but, as it is often seen in
trees, and is able to hop from branch to branch with
considerable address, I am inclined to think that it
sometimes feeds on the caterpillars and other creeping
things that lurk on the under surface of leaves. I have
never actually observed it pick anything off a leaf,
for the coucal is of a retiring disposition. Like some
pubhc personages, it declines to be interviewed.

12 JUNGLE FOLK

Its call is a very distinctive, sonorous Whoot, whooi,
whoot, and, as the bird habitually calls a httle before
dawn in the early part of the hot weather, its voice is
doubtless often attributed to some species of owl.

The nest is, we are told, globular in shape, con-
siderably larger than a football, composed of twigs and
grass and lined with dried leaves. The entrance con-
sists of an aperture at one side. I must confess that
I have not yet seen any of the creature's nests. I have
located several, but each one of these has been placed
in the midst of a dense thicket, which, in its turn, has
been situated in the compound of one of my neighbours.
The only way of bringing a nest built in such a position
to human view is by pulling down the greater part of
the thicket. This operation is not feasible when the
thicket in question happens to be in the garden of
a neighbour.

Large though the nest is, it is not sufficiently com-
modious to admit the whole of the bird, so that the
long tail of the sitting crow-pheasant projects outside
the nest. " When in this position," writes Hume, " the
bird is about as defenceless as the traditional ostrich
which hid its head in the sand." This remark would
certainly be justified were the crow-pheasant to build
its nest in mid-desert, but I fail to see how it applies
when the nest is in the middle of a thicket into which
no crow or other creature with tail-pulling propensities
is hkely to penetrate. " In Australia," continues Hume,
" the coucal manages these things far better. There,
we are told, ' The nest, which is placed in the midst of a
tuft of grass, is of a large size, composed of dried grasses,

RESPECTABLE CUCKOOS 13

and is of a domed form, with two openings, through
one of which the head of the female protrudes while
sitting, and her tail through the other.' On the other
hand, the Southern Chinese coucal, which Swinhoe
declares to be identical with ours, goes a step further,
and gets rid of the dome altogether."

Young crow-pheasants are of exceptional interest.
Three distinct varieties have been described. In some
the plumage is barred throughout. Jerdon supposed
that these are all young females. Other young birds
are like dull-coloured adults ; these are smaller than
the barred forms, and sometimes progress by a series
of hops, instead of adopting the strut so characteristic
of the species. These dull-coloured birds are very wild,
whereas the barred ones are usually easily tamed.
This interesting fact was pointed out by Mr. Frank
Finn in his delightful volume Ornithological and Other
Oddities. Jerdon regards these as young cocks. The
third variety is coloured exactly like the adult. Finn
does not accept Jerdon's view, for, as he points out,
the three forms differ in habits, and the barred and
dull-coloured forms do not appear to occur in the same
brood ; the young in any given nest are either all barred,
or all dull-coloured, or all like the adults in colour.
So that if the barred and dull-plumaged birds represent
different sexes, then all the individuals of a brood must
be of the same sex. Instances of this phenomenon
have been recorded, but they appear to be very rare.
Finn therefore thinks that the three varieties of young
correspond to three races. In this connection it is of
interest to note that Hume divided this species into

14 JUNGLE FOLK

three : Centropus ruftpennis, found in the Indian
Peninsula and Ceylon ; C. intermedius, which occurs in
Eastern Bengal, Assam, and Burma ; and C. maximus,
that inhabits Northern India and Sind. Blanford,
while uniting all these into one species, says, " un-
questionably these are all well-marked races."

Finn had brought to him in Calcutta barred and dull-
coloured young birds, these possibly correspond to the
rufipennis and intermedius races. The matter needs
further investigation.

In this connection it should be noted that the young
of the Indian koel {Eudynamis honor ata) — a cuckoo
parasitic on crows — are of three kinds. Some are all
black like the cock, some are barred black and white
like the hen, while others, though nearly altogether
black, display a few white bars. The fact that I have
seen specimens of all three kinds of koel nestling in one
garden at Lahore would seem to militate somewhat
against the theory that these correspond to different
races or gentes.

I have discoursed at such length on the crow-
pheasant that our other respectable cuckoos will not
receive adequate treatment. The interesting malkohas
will not get an innings to-day. I trust they will accept
my apologies.

I must content myself in conclusion with a few words
regarding the sirkeer or grey ground-cuckoo. The
scientific name of this species — Taccocua leschenaulti —
affords an excellent example of the heights to which
our scientific men can rise in their subhmer moments.
This cuckoo always appears to me hke a large babbler.

RESPECTABLE CUCKOOS 15

It has the untidy appearance, the sombre plumage,
and the laborious flight of the " seven sisters." But it
does not go about in flocks. It appears to consider
that " two is company, three is none." Its cherry-red
bill is the one bit of bright colour it displays. From its
beak it derives its vernacular name jungli iota (jungle
parrot), the villagers being evidently of opinion that
the beak makes the parrot. This cuckoo seems to feed
entirely on the ground, picking up insects of all sorts
and conditions. It is found only in the vicinity of
trees. In the Basti district of the United Provinces,
where it is unusually abundant, I noticed it at almost
every camping-ground I visited. Mango topes appear
to be its favourite feeding-places. When alarmed it
used to fly to the nearest cornfield, where it was quickly
lost to view. Its habits are in many ways like those of
the coucal. It builds a rough-and-ready nest, a mere
collection of twigs with a few leaves spread over the
surface. The eggs are chalky white, like those of the
crow-pheasant. Both the cock and the hen take part
in incubation.

It is a bird concerning the habits of which there is
comparatively little on record. It therefore offers a
fine field for the investigations of Indian ornithologists.

Ill

THE BROWN ROCK-CHAT

THE standard books on Indian ornithology
give inaccurate accounts of the distribution
of some species of birds. In certain cases
the mistakes are due to imperfect know-
ledge, in others it is probable that the range of the
species in question has undergone change since the
text-books were published. There must of necessity
be a tendency for a flourishing species to extend its
boundaries. Growing species, like successful nations,
expand. A correspondent informs me that the
Brahminy myna {Temenuchus pagodarum) is now a
regular visitor at Abbottabad and Taran Taran in the
Punjab, whereas Jerdon states that the bird is not
found to the west of the United Provinces. Similarly,
there is evidence that the red turtle dove [CEnopopelia
tranquebarica) is extending its range westwards. Gates
states that the tailor-bird (Orthotomus sutorius) does not
occur at elevations over 4000 feet, but I frequently
saw it at Coonoor, 2000 feet higher than the limit set
by Gates.

The brown rock-chat (Cercomela fusca) is another
species regarding the distribution of which the text-
books are in error. Jerdon gives its range as " Saugor,

THE BROWN ROCK-CHAT 17

Bhopal, Bimdlekhand, extending towards Gwalior and
the United Provinces." Gates says, ** The western
Hmits of this species appear to be a Hne drawn from
Cutch through Jodhpur to Hardwar. Thence it ex-
tends to Chunar, near Benares, on the east, and to
Jubbulpur on the south, and I have not been able to
trace its distribution more accurately than this."
Nevertheless, this bird is very abundant at Lahore,
some two hundred miles north-west of the occidental
limit laid down by Gates. Brown rock-chats are so
common at Lahore, and the locality seems so well
suited to their mode of life, that I cannot think that
the species is a recent addition to the fauna of the
Lahore district. It must have been overlooked. It is
scarcely possible for one individual to have a personal
knowledge of all parts of so extensive a country as
India : we cannot, therefore, expect accuracy in
describing the range of birds until an ornithologist
does for each locality what Jesse has done for Lucknow,
that is to say, compiles a list of birds observed in a
particular neighbourhood during a period of observa-
tion extending over a number of years.

Let us now pass on to the subject of this essay. The
brown rock-chat is a dull-reddish-brown bird, slightly
larger than a sparrow. There is no outward difference
between the cock and the hen, both being attired
with quaker-like plainness. They are, however,
sprightly as to their habits, being quite robin-like in
behaviour. As they hop about looking for food they
make every now and again a neat bow, and by this
it is easy to identify them. They seem invariably to
c

1 8 JUNGLE FOLK

inhabit dry, stony ground. Round about Lahore
numbers of ruined mosques and tombs exist, and each
of these is the home of at least one pair of brown rock-
chats. But these birds by no means confine themselves
to old ruins. They are very partial to plots of building
land on which bricks are stacked. When a man deter-
mines to build a bungalow in Lahore he acquires a plot
of land, and then has pitched on to it a quantity of
bricks in irregular heaps, each heap being a cartload.
These bricks are then left undisturbed for any period
up to ten years. Among these untidy and unsightly
collections of building material numbers of brown
rock-chats take up their abode. But there are not
enough ruins and collections of bricks to accommodate
all the rock-chats of the locality ; consequently, many
of them haunt inhabited buildings, and display but
Httle fear of the human possessors of these. Indeed,
an allied species (Cercomela melanura) is thought by
some to be the sparrow of the Scriptures.

A cock rock-chat used at the beginning of each hot
weather to come into the skyhght of my office at
Lahore and sing most sweetly, while his mate was
sitting on her eggs hard by. As I had not then seen a
nest of this species I sent a Mohammedan chaprassi
into the Shah Chirag — a tomb in the office compound —
to ascertain whether the nest was inside it or not.
He brought back word that the nest was inside the
sepulchre, but that Christians were not allowed inside,
adding, however, that the fakir in charge thought that
an exception might be made in my favour. A rupee
settled the question. Matting was laid down so that

THE BROWN ROCK-CHAT 19

the saint's burying-place might not be defiled by the
dust that fell from the boots of the infidel, and a ladder
was taken inside. Let into the walls of the tomb were
a number of large niches. In one of these, of which the
base was some ten feet above the level of the ground,
was the nest of the brown rock-chats, containing three
beautiful pale blue eggs, blotched with light yellow
at the broad end. The ledge on which the nest was
built was covered with dust and pieces of fallen plaster,
which had evidently been accumulating there for
generations. The fallen plaster served as a foundation
for the little nursery, which was composed entirely of
fine dried grass. This had the appearance of being
woven into a shallow cup, but I am inclined to think
that the material had been merely piled on to the ledge,
and that the cavity had resulted from the sitting of the
bird. The nest was bounded on two sides by the wall,
and the part of it next to the wall was deeper than the
remainder. There was no attempt at weaving or
cementing, and the whole was so loosely put together
that it could have been removed only by inserting a
piece of cardboard under it, and thus lifting it bodily
away. In other niches were three disused nests,
one of which I appropriated ; they had probably been
made in previous years by the same pair of birds.
I subsequently came across another nest inside an
inhabited bungalow at Lahore, and another on the
inner ledge of the window of an outhouse. Hume
stated that a pair of brown rock-chats built regularly
for years in his house at Etawah. They do not in-
variably construct the nest inside buildings. Hume

20 JUNGLE FOLK

writes : " Deep ravines and earthy cliffs also attract
them, and thousands of pairs build yearly in that vast
network of ravines that fringes the courses of the
Jumna and Chambul from opposite Agra to Calpee.
Others nest in quarries, and I got several nests from
those in the neighbourhood of Futtehpoor Sikri."

During the nesting season the brovvn rock-chat
knows not what fear is. Mr. R. M. Adam gives an
account of a pair which built a nest in a hole in a bath-
room wall. The birds did not appear to be frightened
by people entering and leaving the room. When the
first brood had been reared the hen laid a second
clutch of eggs, and, on these being taken, she immedi-
ately laid a third batch. Colonel Butler writes : " Dur-
ing the period of incubation both birds are extremely
pugnacious, and vigorously attack any small birds,
squirrels, rats, lizards, etc., that venture to approach
the nest." The tameness of the brown rock-chat,
together with his alluring ways and sweet song, make
him an exceptionally fascinating httle bird.

IV
THE SCAVENGER-IN-WAITING

THE number of kites to be seen in any given
place depends almost entirely upon the
state of sanitation in that place. In
England conservancy arrangements are
so good that the kite is practically extinct. We have
no use for the bird at home. '* II faut vive," says the
kite, " and if you do not provide me with offal I shall
prey upon poultry," " As to your hving," repHes the
farmer, *' Je n'en vols pas la necessite, and, if you
attack my poultry, I shall attack you." The kites in
the United Kingdom were as good as their word ; so
were the farmers. The result is that the kite is a
rara avis at home ; a nestling born in the British Isles
is said to be worth £25.

India teems with kites (Milvus govinda) ; we may
therefore infer that sanitation out there is primitive.
Unfortunately, we Anglo-Indians do not require the
kites to enable us to appreciate this fact. Kites, how-
ever, are useful in giving us the measure of the in-
sanitariness of a town. Lahore is a great place for
kites. That city contains a greater proportionate
number of these scavenger birds for its size than any

22 JUNGLE FOLK

other city or town I have ever visited. They are nearly
as abundant as the crows ; further, that beautiful bird,
commonly known as Pharaoh's chicken (Neophron
percnopterus) , shows his smiling face to one at every
turn. Let me here observe that I am not calHng anyone
names ; I am merely stating a fact. If the Lahore
municipal authorities take my words to heart, so much
the better !

Kites are the assistant sweepers to Government ; I
was going to say " honorary sweepers," but that
would not have been strictly accurate, for in India
nothing is done for nothing. The kites receive no
money wages, nothing that comes under the
Accountant-General's audit, but they are paid in truck.
They are allowed to keep the refuse they clear away.
This seems on the face of it to be a bandohast most
favourable to the Government, a very cheap way of
securing servants ; but, like many another arrange-
ment which reads well on paper, it is in practice not
so advantageous as it appears. Thus the kite is
apt to put a wide, I might almost say an elastic
interpretation on the word *' refuse." To take a
concrete example : the other day one of these
birds swooped down and carried off the chop that
was to have formed the piece de resistance of my
breakfast.

But, notwithstanding his many misdeeds, the kite is a
bird with which we in India could ill afford to dispense,
for he subsists chiefly upon garbage. Fortified with
this knowledge, we are able to properly appreciate the
sublime lines of the poet Hurdis :

THE SCAVENGER-IN-WAITING 23

" Mark but the soaring kite, and she will reade
Brave rules for diet ; teach thee how to feede ;
She flies aloft ; she spreads her ayrie plumes
Above the earth, above the nauseous fumes
Of dang'rous earth ; she makes herself a stranger
T' inferior things, and checks at every danger."

Now, I like these lines. Not that I altogether ap-
prove of the sentiments therein expressed. I would not
advise anyone, not even a German, to learn table
manners from the kite. What I do like about the
above is the splendid manner in which the poet strikes
out a new line. [N.B. — The poets and their friends
are strongly advised to omit the forty lines that
follow.] The vulgar herd of poets can best be compared
to a flock of sheep. One of them makes some wild
statement about a bird, and all the rest plagiarise it.
Not so Hurdis ; he is no slavish imitator. He obviously
knows nothing about the kite, but that is a trifle. If
poets wrote only of things with which they were au fait,
where would all our poetry be ?

What Hurdis did know was that, as a general rule,
when you want to write about a bird of which you
know nothing, you are pretty safe in reading what the
poets say about it, and then saying the very opposite.
That in this particular case the rule does not hold good
is Hurdis's misfortune, not his fault. The kite happens
to be almost the only bird about which the poets write
correctly. This is a phenomenon I am totally unable
to explain.

Cowper sang :

" Kites that swim sublime
In still repeated circles, screaming loud.''

24 JUNGLE FOLK

Writes Clare :

" Of chick and duck and gosling gone astray,
All falling preys to the sweeping kite."

King says :

" The kite will to her carrion fly."

The most captious critic could not take exception
to any of these sentiments. He might certainly pull
a long face at Macaulay's

"The kites know well the long stern swell
That bids the Roman close."

But he would find it exceedingly difficult to prove that
the kites do not know this.

But let us leave the poets and return to the bird as it
is, for common though he be in the East, the " sailing
glead " is a bird that will repay a little study. His
powers of flight, his ability to soar high above the
earth, to sail through the thin air with outstretched
and apparently motionless wings, are equalled by few
birds. Watch him as he glides overhead in great
circles until he disappears from sight. He constantly
utters his tremulous, querulous scream — Chee-hee-hee-
hee-hee ; his head is bent so that his beak points down-
wards, and few things are there which escape his keen
eye. Suddenly he espies a rabble of crows squabbling
over a piece of meat. Quick as thought he is full on his
downward career. A second or two later the fighung,
squawking crows hear the swish of his wings — a sound
very famihar to them — and promptly make way for
him. None desires to feel the grip of his powerful
talons. He sweeps above the bone of contention, drops

THE SCAVENGER-IN-WAITING 25

a little, seizes it with his claws, and sails away to the
nearest housetop, where he devours his booty, fixing
it with his talons as he tears it with his beak.

Crows love not the kite. His manner of Uving
resembles theirs so closely that a certain amount of
opposition is inevitable. Then, again, the kite never
makes any bones about carrying off a young crow if the
opportunity presents itself. If the truth be told, the
crows are afraid of the kite. They will, of course, not
admit this. You will never get a crow to admit any-
thing that may be used as evidence against him.

The crows regard kites with much the same feelings
that the smaller boys at school regard the big, bullying
boys. Those who know the ways of the corvi (and who
is there in India that does not ?) will not be surprised
to hear that they never lose an opportunity of scoring
off a kite. There is no commoner sight than that of
a brace of them, as hkely as not aided and abetted by a
king crow, chasing the fleeing glead, and endeavouring
to pull a beakful of feathers out of his rump.

But crows prefer to worry the kite upon terra firma,
for the latter is a clumsy bird when on the ground.
He is so heavy that he can only waddle along, and,
notwithstanding his great pinions, he experiences
difficulty in raising himself off a level plain. Hence
it is when a kite is resting, half asleep, upon the
ground, that the " lurking villain crows " usually
worry him. It requires at least two of the " treble-
dated birds " to do this with success. One ahghts in
front of the victim and the other behind him. This
apparently harmless manoeuvre is quite sufficient to

26 JUNGLE FOLK

excite the suspicions of the kite. He turns his eyes
uneasily from crow to crow, and, although he utters no
sound, he is probably cursing his luck that he has not
a visual organ at the back of his head. If he is a sensible
bird he will at once fly off, in hopes that the perditions
crows will not follow him. If he remains, the pos-
teriorly situated crow takes a peck at his tail. He, of
course, turns upon the aggressor, and thus gives the
front bird the opportunity for which it has been waiting.
Sooner or later the kite has to move on.

Kites are very fond of settling on the tops of posts,
and on other spiky places ; this feature they share
with crows, green parrots, blue jays, and other birds.
I cannot bring myself to believe that such perches
are comfortable ; but, just as a small boy will prefer
balancing himself upon a narrow railing to sitting on a
proper seat, so do birds seem to enjoy perching on all
sorts of impossible places. Birds are like small boys in
many respects. A kite, of course, enjoys one great
advantage when he elects to rest upon such a perch :
it is then impossible for "ribald" crows to come and
squat to right and to left of him.

Kites are not migratory birds in most parts of India.
It is said, however, that the kites leave Calcutta during
the rains. I have never visited the " Queen of Indian
cities," so I cannot say whether or not the kites act
thus. Jerdon, Blanford, and Cunningham all declare
that they do ; but Finn writes : " How such an idea
could have arisen I do not know. I have always noticed
kites in the rains, and have never heard that they were
ever in the habit of leaving Calcutta then." The truth

THE SCAVENGER-IN-WAITING 27

of the matter seems to be that when it rains very
heavily the streets of the city on the Hooghly are washed
comparatively clean, and all the food of the " sailing
glead " is swept out into the country, so the kites go
after it, but they return as soon as the rain stops.

The nesting season for the kites is at any time when
they feel disposed to undertake the cares of the family.
The books tell us that it begins in January. This is
correct. Where they go wrong is in asserting that it
ends in April. I should rather say that it ends in
December. It is true, however, that in Northern
India the greater number of nests are constructed in
the first three months of the calendar year.

The completed nest is about the size of a football,
and is an untidy mass of twigs, rags, mud, brickbats,
and such-like things. It is usually placed high up in a
tall tree, not quite at the top, on a forked branch.
It is not a great architectural triumph, but it serves its
purpose. Two eggs are usually laid. These have a
white ground blotched with red or brown. Kites
object to having their nest pried into, so that he who
attempts to steal the eggs must not be surprised if
the owners attack him.

INDIAN WAGTAILS

"What art thou made of? — air or light or dew?
— I have no time to tell you if I knew.
My tail — ask that— perhaps may solve the matter ;
IVe missed three flies already by this chatter."

I QUITE agree with Mr. Warde Fowler that wag-
tails are everything that birds should be. They
are just the right size ; their shape and form are
perfect ; they dress most tastefully ; they display
that sprightHness that one looks for in birds ; their
movements are elegant and engaging ; their undulating
flight is blithe and gay ; their song is sweet and cheery ;
they are friendly, and sociable, fond of men and
animals, " not too shy, not too bold." They are, in
short, ideal birds.

I know of nothing more enjoyable than to sit
watching a wagtail feeding at the water's edge.

'* She runs along the shore so quickly," writes a long-
forgotten author, " that the eye is hardly able to
follow her steps, and yet, with a flying glance, she
examines every crevice, every stalk that conceals her
reposing or creeping prey. Now she steps upon a
smoothly washed stone ; she bathes and drinks — and
how becomingly, and with what an air ! The very

INDIAN WAGTAILS 29

nicest soubrette could not raise her dress more coquet-
tishly, the best-taught dancer not move with more
graceful pas than the pretty bather as she lifts her
train and dainty feet. Suddenly she throws herself,
with a jump and a bound, into the air, to catch the
circling gnat ; and now should be seen the beating of
wings, the darting hither and thither, the balancing
and the shakes and the allegretto that her tail keeps
time to. Nothing can surpass it in lightness. In fine, of
all the little feathered people, none, except the swallow,
is more graceful, fuller of movement, more adroit or
insinuating, than the wagtail."

Wagtails are essentially birds of the temperate zone.
They remind us of a fact that we who dwell in the
tropics are apt to forget, namely, that there are some
beautiful birds found outside the torrid zone.

Fourteen species of wagtail occur in India, but the
majority of them leave us to breed. They bring up
their famihes in cool Kashmir, on the chilly, wind-
swept heights of Thibet, or even in glacial Siberia, and
visit India only in the winter when their native land
becomes too frigid even for them.

Many of the migratory wagtails do not show them-
selves in the southern portion of the peninsula, being
rightly of opinion that the climate of Upper India is
not far from perfect during the winter months.

There is, however, one species — the most lovable
of them all — the pied-wagtail (Motacilla maderas-
patensis) — which has discovered that it is possible to
live in the plains of India throughout the year ; and,
having made this discovery, it has decided that the

30 JUNGLE FOLK

troubles and trials of the hot weather are lesser evils
than the inconveniences and perils of the long migra-
tory journey. The head of this species is black,
relieved by a white streak running through the eye ;
the wings and tail are mostly black, and a bib — or is
" front " a more correct word ? — of similar hue is
usually worn. The under parts of the bird are white.

The pied-wagtail is common all over India. It is
particularly abundant in the city of Madras, where it
is to be seen everywhere — on the house-top, in the
courtyard, in shady garden, in open field, and on the
river bank in company with the soldiers who solemnly
fish in the waters round about the fort.

When in Madras I used to see almost daily one of
these birds perched on the telegraph wire that runs
across the Cooum parallel with the Mount Road bridge.
The bird seemed to spend most of the day in pouring
forth its sweet song. When sitting on the wire its tail
used to hang down in a most unwagtail-like manner,
so that the bird looked rather Hke a pipit. Pied-wag-
tails sometimes appropriate suitable parts of the
bungalow for nesting sites ; when this happens the
human occupant has plenty of opportunity of studying
their ways.

The remaining thirteen species of wagtails are
merely winter visitors to the plains of India. Two or
three of these are to be seen feeding, during the cold
weather, on every grass-covered field, and at the edge
of every jhil. In the latter place wagtails are nothing
short of a nuisance to the man who is out after snipe,
for they have the habit of rising along with the snipe,

INDIAN WAGTAILS 31

and the white outer-tail feathers invariably catch the
eye. Man}^ a snipe owes its life to the wagtail.

The four commonest of the migratory wagtails are,
I think, the white {Motacilla alba), the masked (M.
impersonata) y the grey {M. melanope), and the grey-
headed wagtail [M. horealis). The two latter are
characterised by much bright yellow in the lower
plumage, which the first two lack ; but I am not going
to attempt to achieve the impossible by trying to
describe the various species of wagtail. Owing to the
fact that these birds, like ladies of fashion, are con-
tinually changing their gowns, it is very difficult to state
the species to which an individual belongs without
examining that individual feather by feather. You
ma}^ see a dozen wagtails of the same species catching
insects on your lawn, each of which differs markedly
from all his companions. Most of us are satisfied with
the knowledge that a given bird is a wagtail, and are
able to enjoy the poetry and grace of its motion with-
out troubling our heads about its scientific name.

THE TEESA

BUTASTUR TEESA used to be called the
white-eyed buzzard, but one day a worthy
ornithologist discovered that the bird was
not the genuine article, that its legs and its
eggs betrayed the fact that it is not a true buzzard.
Therefore a new name had to be found for the bird.
In their search for this, naturalists have not met with
great success. Indeed, the last state of the bird is
worse than the first, for it is now known as the white-
eyed buzzard-eagle. To the adjectival part of the name
no one can take exception, because the white eye and
a whitish patch of feathers on the back of the head are
the most remarkable features of a rather ordinary-
looking fowl. The name " buzzard-eagle," however,
is most misleading. Although, as I have previously
had occasion to state, eagles are not quite the noble
creatures the poets have made them out to be, to
suggest that Butastur teesa is one of them is to insult
the whole aquiline community. Eagles, notwith-
standing the fact that they sometimes eat carrion,
attack, each according to the size of its talons, quarry
of considerable size, and are, in consequence, the

THE TEESA 33

terror of other birds. As Phil Robinson says of them,
" they stand in the sky as the symbol of calamity.
When they stoop to the earth it is a vision of sudden
death." To speak thus of Butastur teesa would be,
as Euclid says, absurd. The white-eyed buzzard is
almost contemptible as a bird of prey ; he is a raptorial
degenerate, a mere loafer.

In India one often sees a white-eyed buzzard, some
mynas, a pair of doves, several bee-eaters, one or two
king crows, and a roller, sitting, all in a row, on a tele-
graph wire within a few yards of one another ; the
first and the last, as likely as not, on the tops of the
telegraph poles, looking like pillar saints. Contrast
this state of affairs with what happens when a hawk
or a falcon appears on the scene. " Take to woodland,"
writes Phil Robinson, " and fill it with your birds of
beauty and of song; put your 'blackbird pipers in every
tree,' and have linnets ' starting all along the bushes.'
Let melody burthen every bough and every cloud
hold a lark. Have your doves in the pines, and your
thrushes in the hawthorn ; spangle your thistle-beds
with restless goldfinches, and your furze with yellow-
hammers. The sun is shining brightly, and the country-
side seems fairly overflowing with gladness. But with
a single touch you can alter the whole scene ; for let
one hawk come skimming round that copse yonder,
and the whole woodland is mute in the moment. Here
and there shrill warning cries of alarm, and here and
there a bird dipping into the central covert of the
brake. But for the rest there might not be one winged
thing alive in all the landscape. The hawk throws a

34 JUNGLE FOLK

shadow of desolation as it goes, its wings scatter fears on
either side ; silence precedes it and gloom pursues."

Small birds fear the hawk and despise the teesa,
because they know that the former is as swift and
energetic as the latter is slow and lazy. But it is not
easy to understand why the white-eyed buzzard does
not prey upon wild birds, because its wings are, in
proportion to its size, longer than those of most birds
of prey. It is not that Btitastur considers birds unfit
to eat. On the contrary, says Mr. C. H. Donald, ** that
he would love to catch a bird for his dinner is proved
bj^ the fact of his coming down to a bird behind a net
as soon as he sees it, but I suppose experience has
taught him that it is no use his trying to catch one
in its wild state, and in full possession of its wings and
feathers, and, consequently, he never tries." Thus,
we have no alternative but to regard the white-eyed
buzzard as a degenerate, a bird that might starve in
the midst of plenty.

When a hungry Butastur sees flitting all around him
potential meals in the shape of small birds, his feelings
must be akin to those of the impecunious man in the
comic song who, as he contemplates the insurance
poHcy on the hfe of his shrewish wife, cries out : " Stone
broke with fifty quid staring me in the face ! " The
white-eyed buzzard has perforce to feed upon very
humble quarry, upon the creeping and crawling things,
upon beetles and insects, with an occasional rat or
frog. His usual method of capturing his prey is very
similar to that of the shrike, or butcher-bird, or, to
come nearer home, to that of the true buzzards. He

THE TEESA 35

takes up a position on a bare branch of a tree, a tele-
graph pole, a fence, or other point of vantage, such as a
heap of kankar, and there waits patiently until some
small creature wanders by. On to this he quietly drops,
secures it in his feeble talons, and returns to the perch
to devour his quarry and thus bring to a close one of
nature's Httle tragedies, of which millions are being
daily enacted. After he has finished his dinner he
loves to sit awhile, as the nursery rhyme tells us we
should do, and quietly digest what he has eaten. I
once disturbed a Butastur that had just finished a
heavy meal in the shape of a frog, with the result that
the bird " brought up " the frog !

Sometimes the white-eyed buzzard beats over the
ground in search of its quarry, but this is not his usual
modus operandi. If you would see the white-eyed
buzzard, go into an open place and w^atch for a brown
bird a little larger than a crow, sitting motionless on
some point of vantage, like Patience on a monument.
By its sluggish habits, its small size, its white eye, and
the whitish patch at the back of its head, you may
recognise it. It utters a pecuHar plaintive screaming
call, which is heard mostly at the nesting season.
" In February and March," writes Mr, Donald, " just
before the breeding season, these birds may be fre-
quently seen soaring high up in the heavens, and giving
vent to their plaintive call, and might be taken for
falcons if it were not for their much more rounded
wings. When at a height their breasts appear dark
and their wings (lower surface) very light and silvery."

Needless to say, the nest of this species is not a very

36 JUNGLE FOLK

skilfully constructed affair. It is not more beautiful
than a dak bungalow, but, like the latter, serves the
purpose for which it is built. It is very like that of the
common crow — a loosely-put-together collection of
sticks, devoid of anything in the form of lining, and
placed fairly high up in the fork of a tree. The tree
selected is usually one with rather dense foliage, and
one of a clump or row, in preference to a solitary tree ;
nevertheless, I have seen a nest in an isolated tree.
The eggs, which are greyish white, are not laid until
some time after the nest has been made ready. Teesas
are very noisy at the nesting season ; the sitting hen
utters constantly a mewing cry, which renders the
nest easy to locate ; but her vocal efforts pale into
insignificance before those of the young hopefuls.
These, to quote Mr. Benjamin Aitken, " keep up an
incessant screaming for days before and after they
leave the nest ; so that you cannot pass within two
hundred yards of a brood of nearly fledged or newly
fledged birds without being made painfully aware of
their existence and good spirits."

VII

FALCONRY IN INDIA

LEST the title of this chapter should lead the
reader to indulge in expectations that will
J not be realised, let me hasten to say that,
in my opinion, hawking is a much overrated
pastime. This statement will, of course, rouse the ire
of the keen falconer, who will tell me that hawking is
the sport of kings, and that it has no equal. To such a
defence of the sport the obvious reply is that it has
almost entirely died out in England, and that in India,
where there is every faciHty for it, very few Europeans
care to indulge in it. In Persia and India falconry
is carried on in precisely the same way as it used to be
in England. There can be little doubt that the sport
originated in the East, and was introduced into the
British Isles in Anglo-Saxon times. The hoods, the
jesses, the lures, the gauntlets that are used in India
to-day are exactly like those portrayed in old English
hawking prints.

Hawks fall into two classes, according to the method
of catching their quarry. These may be compared
respectively to sprinters and long-distance men among
human athletes. They are known to falconers as the

38 JUNGLE FOLK

short-winged or yellow-eyed hawks and the long-
winged or dark-eyed hawks. The former adopt what
I may perhaps call slap-dash methods. A furious rush
is made at the quarry, and if this be not secured at the
first onslaught the chase is given up. The second class
adopts the slow but sure method. The falcon, having
sighted its quarry, settles down to a long pursuit, keeps
on and on until it finds itself above its victim, on to
which it stoops. The second class of raptorial birds,
which includes all the falcons, affords the better kind
of sport, because the following of the chase entails some
hard riding. For falconry of this kind a stretch of
fiat, open country is a sine qua non, and, as this is
comparatively easy to find in India, one would natur-
ally expect that the long-winged form of falconry
would be the most popular among Indians. But this
is not so. In Northern India, at any rate, that species
of falconry that does not involve hard riding on the
part of the falconer is the most practised. The gos-
hawk (Astur palabarius) is the hawk most commonly
used.

Perhaps the best method of conveying an idea of
falconry to one who has not witnessed the sport is to
describe a day's actual experience. The month is
December, and the place Oudh. This means a sunny
but perfectly cool day, so that riding, even when the
sun is at its zenith, is dehghtful. Our party consists
of an Indian gentleman — a Sikh and a large land-
holder— who owns the hawks, and three Europeans
all well mounted, also the chief falconer, indifferently
mounted, who carries on his gloved forearm a goshawk.

FALCONRY IN INDIA 39

Then there are two other falconers on foot, one carrying
a goshawk and the other a sparrow-hawk (Accipiter
nisus) . Half a dozen beaters and three mongrel terriers
complete the party. The sparrow-hawk is hooded,
while the goshawk is not, being of a less excitable
nature. The hood is a leather cap, constructed so as
to cover up the wearer's eyes but not her beak. The
hood terminates in a point like a helmet. In the
summit some plumes are stuck, so that the hooded
bird has a fantastic appearance. Sparrow-hawks and
peregrines are made to wear these hoods when taken
out, until the falconer espies quarry, when he unhoods
his hawk and lets the ends of the jesses go. The jesses
are short straps made of soft leather, which all trained
hawks and falcons always wear. The goshawks are
both females. In all species of the raptor es — Glisten to
this, ye suffragettes ! — the female is larger and bolder
than the male, and hence is more highly esteemed by
the falconer. The female goshawk is known as a baz,
and is worth anything up to Rs. 150, while the male,
called the jurra, will never fetch more than Rs. 80.
The goshawks whose exploits I am about to recount
cost Rs. 80 and Rs. 60 respectively. They have been
trained more especially to take peafowl.

The party sets out in a southerly direction across an
uneven plain, much intersected by dried-up water-
courses. There is no cultivation on the plain, which
is to a large extent covered with long sarpat grass and
other xerophilous plants. We move along in an
irregular line, the dogs and beaters doing their best
to put up game. Suddenly a quail rises. " Let loose

40 JUNGLE FOLK

the sparrow-hawk," cries the Sirdar. But, alas, the
man carrying that bird has lagged behind, so the quail
escapes. I may here say that on nine occasions out
of ten when out hawking the man with the proper
hawk is not where he should be. We continue our
course, and presently come to a narrow river running
through a deep nullah. Here two or three cormorants
come flying overhead. They are forthwith " spotted "
by the goshawks, which have all the time been eagerly
looking about them in all directions. Having seen the
cormorants, they begin tugging excitedly at their
jesses. The falconers Hberate the goshawks, and away
they go in pursuit. After flying about eighty yards,
first one goshawk, then the other, gives up the chase,
and each repairs to the tree that happens to be nearest
it. Then the falconers go up and show the birds pieces
of meat, in order to entice them back to the fist. One
baz immediately flies to the bait. Not so the other.
She sits perched in her tree with an air of fy suis, fy
reste. In a few seconds some crows catch sight of her
and proceed to mob her by flying around her and
squawking loudly. However, not one of them dares
to touch her. Presently she too flies to her trainer, and
the party moves on.

We next ford the river. On the far side the country
is still more rugged, but contains more trees. Presently
there is a great commotion in the thicket, and up gets
a great peacock. The goshawks are again released and
give chase. They fly low and make straight for the
peacock, upon which they gain rapidly. We ride hard
after them. After a flight of perhaps two hundred

FALCONRY IN INDIA 41

yards the hawks, when close up to the object of their
chase, give up the pursuit, and fly to trees hard by.
I ask their owner why they did not secure the peacock.
He repHes : " They would have taken it had it been a
hen. They are not used to the male bird. Alas, my
best hawk, which would take the cock, died last week ! "
Let me here remark that I have never yet come across
a falconer whose best hawk had not recently died.
This is the inevitable excuse for the apparently in-
variable failure of the falcon to secure its quarry. To
cut a long story short, neither of those goshawks secured
anything that day. Later, the sparrow-hawk was sent
after an unfortunate myna (Acridotheres tristis), which
it secured after a chase of perhaps a dozen yards. Its
talons struck the myna in the neck, and it soon killed
it, not, however, before the poor little creature had
emitted some heart-rending shrieks. The goshawk
must occasionally catch something, or it would not
fetch so large a price, and would not be so popular a
bird with falconers in Northern India, but I imagine
that on most days the hawking party returns without
having secured anything.

Let me now give a brief account of hawking with the
Bhairi, or peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus). The
scene, this time, is a huge expanse of flat plain in the
Punjab, near the River Jhelum. The hawks belong to
a European. We have ridden for several hours, not
having succeeded in putting up quarry of any kind.
As the falconer seems to have anticipated this, and as
he has with him on trial a new peregrine, which he
wants to see at work, an unfortunate crow, which was

42 JUNGLE FOLK

captured in the morning and has been carried round in
a bag with us, is let go. He flies in a very stiff manner.
When he has flown some eighty yards the peregrine isun-
hooded and let go after him. She at once flies upwards,
and in a few seconds is above the crow, who, seeing her,
drops to the ground and lies there on his back prepared
to show fight. The falcon stoops at him, but seems
to be afraid to tackle him on the ground. The falconer
then runs up to him and tries to make him get up ;
but he refuses, so he is picked up and thrown into the
air. The falcon at once stoops at him, but before
she reaches him the crow has again dropped to the
ground, and still the falcon refuses to close with him.
" That bird is of no use," is the comment of my
host, an assertion which I do not feel inclined to
contradict.

The only other kinds of falconry I have witnessed
are those with hawk-eagles {SpizcBtus nepalensis),
shikras (Asttir badius), and merlins {Msalon regulus).
Hodgson's hawk-eagle is so large a bird that to watch
him dashing after his quarry is a fine sight. It is said
that this species can be trained to capture chinkara
(Gazella hennetti). However, I have only seen it in
pursuit of a hare that had been previously caught and
then let loose. The hawk-eagle overtook this before
it had gone fifty yards.

Hawking with the shikra is, in my opinion, very poor
sport, for this little bird of prey makes but one dash
at its quarry, and at once desists if this does not enable
it to overhaul it. It is usually flown at quails or mynas.
While waiting for its victim it is carried on the hand.

FALCONRY IN INDIA 43

but is not hooded. When one of the kind of bird to
which it has been trained is flushed, the hawker takes
the shikra in his hand, holds it between his thumb and
fingers, and then throws it hke a javehn in the direction
of its quarry. Thus it enjoys the benefit of a flying
start, but, notwithstanding this, it generally fails to
make a catch.

The contest between a merlin and a hoopoe is an
exceedingly pretty sight. The hoopoe is not a very
rapid flier, but he is a past master in the art of jinking
and dodging, and the manner in which he times the
onslaught of the merlin, and jerks himself a couple of
inches to right or to left, is a sight for the gods. The
merlin, thus cheated of his victim, is carried on by
sheer force of momentum some sixty yards before he
can turn for another dash at the hoopoe. Meanwhile
the latter is steadily flapping towards cover. The
merlin is no more successful in his second dash, nor in
his third or his fourth ; on each occasion the hoopoe
escapes, apparently by the proverbial hair's-breadth.
A single merlin is usually not clever enough to capture
the wily hoopoe, but when two of them act in concert
they usually succeed in doing so.

Such, then, is falconry as I have seen it. I concede
that my experience has not been great, but I have
witnessed enough to enable me to understand how
it is that shooting has almost entirely displaced it as
a pastime.

The training of hawks is, of course, most interesting,
and must be a very fascinating pursuit to those
engaged in it. When once the hawk or falcon has

44 JUNGLE FOLK

been trained, it appears to me that the best of the fun
is over.

The going out in search of quarry seems only an
excuse for spending a day in the open on horseback
under very pleasant conditions.

VIII
HAWKS IN MINIATURE

EVEN as the earth is overrun by dacoits,
robbers, and highwaymen in all places
where the arm of the law is not far-reaching
and hard-striking, so is the air infested with
bandits. These feathered marauders fall into three
classes, according to the magnitude of their quarry.
There are, first, the eagles, falcons, and hawks,
which attack creatures of considerable size. Then
follow the shrikes or butcher-birds — pocket editions
of the raptores — which prey upon the small fry among
reptiles, mammals, and birds, also upon the larger
insects. Lastly come the fly-catchers, which content
themselves with microscopic booty, with trifles that
the larger birds of prey do not deem worthy of notice.
These last are able to swallow their victims bodily.
Not so the shrikes and birds of prey, whose quarry has
to be devoured piecemeal, to be captured, killed, then
torn to pieces.

Similarity of calling not infrequently engenders
similarity of appearance. Swifts and swallows afford
a striking instance of this. AHke externally, they are
widely separated morphologically. So is it with the

46 JUNGLE FOLK

shrikes and the raptores. The earher naturahsts were
misled by this outward Hkeness, and, in consequence,
classed the swifts with the swallows and the shrikes
with the falcons.

Many are the points of resemblance between the
greater and the lesser bandits of the air. The ferocity
of their mien is apparent to the most casual observer.
Michelet speaks of the eagle as having a *' repulsively
ferocious figure, armed with invincible talons, and a
beak tipped with iron, which would kill at the first
blow." Even more sinister is the aspect of the shrike.
The broad black streak that runs from the bill to the
nape of the neck serves to accentuate the fierce ex-
pression of the eye. The American naturahst Bur-
roughs speaks of the shrike as a ** bird with the mark of
Cain upon him. . . . the assassin of the small birds,
whom he often destroys in pure wantonness, or to sup
upon their brains."

Much has been written about the cruelty of birds of
prey. Their calHng is indeed a barbarous one ; they
undoubtedly inflict much pain ; but these are not
reasons why they should be spoken of as villains of
the deepest dye, as criminals worthy of the noose.
The bird of prey kills his quarry because it is his
nature to do so. He regards his victims as so many
elusive loaves of bread, made for his consumption,
to be obtained for the catching. The fly-catcher holds
similar views regarding his quarry. We should bear
in mind that the average insectivorous bird kills in
the course of his life a vastly greater number of living
things than does the eagle. The robin, for example.

HAWKS IN MINIATURE 47

has been known to devour two and a half times its
weight in earthworms in a single day. Were the daily
tale of its victims placed end to end they would form
a wriggling line fourteen feet in length. Yet writers
abuse the fierce and vicious eagle, while they belaud the
gentle and good robin. Thus Michelet writes with
typical romantic fervour : " These birds of prey, with
their small brains, offer a striking contrast to the
numerous amiable and plainly intelligent species
which we find among the smaller birds. The head of
the former is only a beak ; that of the latter has
a face. What comparison can be made between these
giant brutes and the intelligent, all-human bird, the
robin redbreast, which at this moment hovers about me,
perches on my shoulder or my paper, examines my
writing, warms himself at the fire, or curiously peers
through the window to see if the spring-time will not
soon return ? "

Writing of this description is possibly very mag-
nificent, but it is not natural history. What is sauce
for the goose is sauce for the gander. If it is wicked
of the falcon to devour a duck, I fail to see that it is
virtuous of the robin to gobble up a worm.

But to return to the shrike. His beak is very falcon-
like. The short, arched, upper mandible, with its
pointed, downwardly-directed tip and strong projecting
tooth, is a weapon admittedly adapted to the tearing-up
of raw flesh. The butcher-bird waits for his quarry
much as the buzzard does, sitting immobile on the
highest branch of a bush or low tree, whence he scans
the surface of the earth. Something moving on the

48 JUNGLE FOLK

ground arrests his attention. In an instant he has
swooped and seized a grasshopper. A second later
he is back on his perch, grasping his victim. I have
already stated that shrikes feed upon small mammals,
birds and reptiles, and large insects. These last
make up by far the greater portion of his menu. Often
have I watched the smaller species of Indian shrike
obtaining a meal, but never have I seen any
of these capture anything larger than an insect.
Mr. W. Jesse says of the Indian grey shrike [Lanius
lahtora) — the largest of our species : "It feeds on
crickets, locusts, lizards, and the like. It may occa-
sionally seize a sickly or a young bird, but I have
never actually seen it do so." Other observers have
been more fortunate. Thus " Eha " says : " Sometimes
it sees a possible chance in a flock of little birds absorbed
in searching for grass seeds. Then it sHps from its
watch-tower and, gliding softly down, pops into the
midst of them without warning, and strikes its talons
into the nearest." Similarly Benjamin Aitken writes :
" The rufous-backed shrike, though not so large as
the grey shrike, is a much bolder and fiercer bird. It
will come down at once to a cage of small birds exposed
at a window, and I once had an amadavat killed and
partly eaten through the wires by one of these shrikes
which I saw in the act with my own eyes. The next
day I caught the shrike in a large basket, which I had
set over the cage of amadavats. " On another occa-
sion I exposed a rat in a cage for the purpose of
attracting a hawk, and in a few minutes found a Lanius
erythronotus fiercely attacking the cage on all sides,"

HAWKS IN MINIATURE 49

I am disposed to regard such cases as the ex-
ceptions which prove the rule that the food of, at any
rate, the smaller species of shrike, consists mainly of
insects. This would explain why so few shrikes'
" larders " are discovered in India. Every popular
book on natural history describes how the butcher-bird,
having killed his victim, impales it upon a thorn, and
leaves it there to grow tender preparatory to devouring
it. I have not been lucky enough to come across one
of these larders. Other naturalists have been more
fortunate, and we may take it as an established fact
that even the smaller Indian species of butcher-birds
sometimes impale their victims on thorns. The
existence of such larders is easily accounted for. When
the little butcher captures a victim so large that it
has to be torn to pieces before consumption, he has
to find some method of fixing it while tearing it up.
He is not heavy enough to pin it to the ground with his
talons, as a raptorial bird does, so must perforce utilise
the fork of a tree or a large thorn. Having taken his
fill, he flies away, leaving the remains of his dinner
impaled on the thorn, where it is discovered by some
enterprising ornithologist.

Fifteen species of Lanius are described as existing
in India. Of these the three most commonly seen are
the rufous-backed, the bay-backed, and the grey
species.

The rufous-backed shrike (Lanius erythronotus) is the
only butcher-bird that is abundant on the Bombay
side. It is about the size of a bulbul. It sits bolt
upright, with tail pointing to the ground, and in this

50 JUNGLE FOLK

attitude watches for its quarry. It has a grey head,
with a conspicuous broad black band — the mark
of the butcher-bird community — running through the
eye. Its back is reddish brown. It has a white shirt-
front, which makes it easy to see ; moreover, it always
sits on an exposed perch. To mistake a shrike is
impossible. There is no other fowl like unto it.

The bay-backed species (L. vittatus) is a somewhat
smaller bird, but is very Hke erythronotus in appearance.
It may, however, be distinguished at a glance when on
the wing by the white in the wings and tail.

The third common species — the Indian grey shrike
(L. lahtora) — has the whole of the back grey, and thus is
recognisable without difficulty.

The nest of the butcher-bird is an untidy, cup-
shaped structure, from which pieces of rag frequently
hang down. As often as not it is built in a thorny
tree, and, by preference, pressed up close against the
trunk. Baby shrikes make their debut into the world
during the hot weather.

THE ROOSTING OF THE
BEE-EATERS

ONE evening in August I was ** on the
prowl " with a pair of field-glasses, when
I came across a tree from which eman-
ated the twittering of many green bee-
eaters (Merops viridis). As the sun was about to set, it
was evident that these alluring little birds were get-
ting ready to go to sleep. Most birds seem to roost
in company. They do so presumably for the sake
of companionship, warmth, and, perhaps, protection.
To my mind there is no sight more amusing than that
of a number of Httle birds going to bed, so I turned
aside to watch these emerald bee-eaters. The tree in
question was an isolated one, growing at the side of a
field. I do not know its name, but it was about
twenty feet high, with fairly dense foliage, the leaves
being in colouring and shape not unlike those of the
rose. The bee-eaters in the tree were making a great
noise ; all were twittering at the top of their musical
little voices, and, as there were certainly more than
forty of them, to say nothing of some other birds, the
clamour may be imagined. From a little distance it

52 JUNGLE FOLK

sounded like the calling of many cicadas. The birds
were evidently busy selecting perches on which to pass
the night, and there was, as there seems always to be
on such occasions, a certain amount of squabbling. I
was going to say " fighting," but perhaps that would be
too strong a word to use for this scramble for places.
At times, indeed, the scramble would develop into a
fight, and two birds emerge snapping at one another.
Once outside they would desist from fighting and return
to the tree. Occasionally a bee-eater would dart out
of the tree, and make a sally after some flying insect,
and, having caught it with a loud snap of its mandibles,
return to the tree and disappear into the " leafy bower."
While this was going on amid the foliage, fresh bee-
eaters kept coming in from a distance, mostly in pairs.
These all made direct for the tree, evidently knowing
it well.

I crept up to within about six yards of the dormitory,
so as to witness as much as possible of what was going
on amongst the leaves.

Some of the birds looked as though they had settled
down for the night, since they were quite quiet. Two,
in particular, had taken up a position, side by side,
close up against one another on a somewhat isolated
bough. They sat there quite still except for an occa-
sional turn of the head, which seemed to express
surprise and annoyance at the clamour of their
fellows. Several other individuals had settled down
in the same manner, in rows of two or more, huddled
as close as possible together, each row being on a
separate branch.

THE ROOSTING OF THE BEE-EATERS 53

I noticed one line of eight bee-eaters, squeezed up
against one another, and very pretty did the eight httle
heads look. But these rows were subjected to constant
disturbance, and were continually being broken up and
re-formed. The disturbances came both from within
and from without. One of a row, usually the outside
one (outside berths are not appreciated by the bird-
folk), would suddenly determine to better his position,
which he would seek to do by hopping on to his neigh-
bour's back, and trying to wedge himself in between
him and the next bird. This would be resented by the
aforesaid neighbour, who would try to shake off the
intruder, and the struggle that ensued would, as often
as not, result in the break-up of the whole row. Birds
that had not already found suitable perches would join
rows already in existence. This was a constant source
of disturbance. Perhaps four bee-eaters would be
sitting on a bough which their weight caused to hang
horizontally, then a fifth bird would take it into his little
head to ahght at the extreme tip of the branch, and
bear it down to such an extent that those already on
it had to grip hard to maintain their equiUbrium. It
must be very disconcerting and annoying to a sleepy
little bird when the angle of its perch is suddenly
changed by fifteen or twenty degrees !

While I was watching all this some village boys
caught sight of me, and, with the curiosity so char-
acteristic of the Punjabi, came up to see what I was
looking at. Shortly after their arrival one of them
showed his country manners by clearing his throat with
such violence as to frighten all the bee-eaters out of

54 JUNGLE FOLK

the tree in which they were settHng down for the night !
Some flew to a neighbouring tree, but the majority
circled in the air with loud twitterings. Within less
than three minutes, however, all were back again,
trying to find suitable perches. Before they had half
settled down a boy again disturbed them. This was
obviously done to annoy me, so I sent the urchins
about their business. All the bee-eaters were back
again almost immediately. By this time the sun had
disappeared below the horizon, a fact which the birds
seemed to appreciate, judging by the celerity with
which they settled down. It soon grew so dark that I
could scarcely distinguish the birds from the foliage
which they resemble so much in hue. But for the
black streak through the eye I should not have been
able to do so. I now crept up under the tree, and was
able, by looking up, to distinguish little groups of bee-
eaters huddled together. I noticed several couples,
two rows of three, four rows of four, and one of five.
The tails projected from behind, and by counting these
I was able to determine the number in a row. I noticed
that the tails were not parallel ; some were crossed
by others, showing that the birds do not roost so closely
packed as they appear to be when looked at from the
front. Birds are composed largely of feathers, so that
it is easy for them to have the appearance of being
packed like sardines in a tin when in reality they have
plenty of room.

All the birds in a row faced the same way, but some
rows looked one way and others another.

Bee-eaters do not sleep with the head under the wing,

THE ROOSTING OF THE BEE-EATERS 55

as some birds do, but are content to allow it to drop into
their downy shoulders.

The little company did not all roost at the same
elevation, but none slept on the lowest branches, nor
could I distinguish any on the highest boughs. I should
say that all the birds roost in the middle zone of the
tree. The branches selected were not necessarily those
where the foliage was thickest, nor, so far as I could
make out, where the sleeping birds would be best
protected from dew and rain. As it rained very
heavily in the night in question, some of those bee-
eaters must have had a nocturnal shower-bath.

OWLS

IT is the misiortime of owls thai they are uni-
versally unpopular. They are heartily detested
b\" ilieir fellow-birds, who never miss an
oppor:;uiity of mobbing them. They are looked
upon with superstitious dread by the more ignorant
classes all the world over. Jews and Gentiles, Chris-
:-;.:-.s ar.d !v:..:l-.::-.s. ahke hate them. Owls are thought
i: l\ ■ c:..:"a " .vds," "foul precursors of the liend,"
"birds wh::-: V :a:h brings sickness, and whose note
is death." deatlis dreadful messengers, Satan's chap-
■^ .'5.v\v ::v: d:\-rs paultr\-. Poets join \^-ith the \-iilgar
/.".'< v:. sh;v.Y::n^ abusive epithets upon them.
Owls are gibbering, moping, didl. ghastly, gloomy,
::;■:■" ;:-ael. fatal, dire. foul. balefrJ. boding, grim,
siu^cu '. .:af, bii'ds of mean degree and e\'il omen.
The na:a::.^-^: is. however, above the \-iLlgar and ill-
fo vjided prejudice against the " sailing pirates of the
night." To him. owls are birds of peculiar fascinarion
and s^-.T^assiiig interest. They are of peculiar fascina-
::::: : : . r: ..: r ::. d comparatively little about
their habits. We day folk have but a slender know-
ledge of the hves oi the creatures of the night. To

OWLS 57

most of us owls are -ioces, ct prcBterca Jiihil — voices
which are the reverse of pleasant. Owls are of sur-
passing interest to the naturalist on account of their
perfect adaptation to a pecuUar mode of hfe.

The owl is a bird of prey which seeks its quarr^^ by
night, a " cat on wings," as Phil Robinson hath it.
A master of the craft of night-hunting must of necessity-
possess exceptional eyesight. His sense of hearing too
must be extraordinarily acute, for in the stillness of
the night it is the ear rather than the eye that is relied
upon to detect the presence of that which is sought.
Another sine qua non of owl existence is the power of
silent progression. Were the flight of owls noisy, Hke
that of crows and other large birds, their \-ictim5 would
hear them coming, and so be able to make good their
escape. He who hunts in the night has to take his
quarry by surprise. Ever^'one must have noticed
the great staring orbs of the owl. Like the wolf in the
stor\^ of Little Red Riding Hood, it has large eyes in
order the better to see its victim. The eye of the owl
is both large and rounded, and the pupil is big for the
size of the eye in order to admit as much moonlight
as possible. The visual organs of the owl are made
for night work, and so are unsuited to the hours of
sunlight. Ordinary dayhght is probably as trying to
the owl as the glare of the noonday sun in the desert
is to human beings. But it is not correct to speak of
the owl as blind during the day. He can see quite well.
He behaves stupidly when evicted from his shady
haunts in the daytime because he is momentarily
blinded, just as we human beings are when we suddenly

58 JUNGLE FOLK

plunge from the darkened bungalow into the midday
sun of an Indian June. I have seen owls of various
species either sitting on a perch or flying about quite
happily at midday.

The chief reason why most owls are so strictly noc-
turnal is because they are intensely unpopular among
the birds of the day. These give them a bad time when-
ever they venture forth. In this the crows take the
lead. Crows, like London cads, are intensely con-
servative. They hate the sight of any curious-looking
or strangely dressed person. Put on a Cawnpore tent
club helmet, and walk for a mile in the East End of
London, and you will learn the kind of treatment to
which owls are subjected by their fellow-birds when
they venture forth by day. Mr. Evans, writing of the
owl in his volume. The Songs of Birds, says : " There
is some sad secret, which we do not know, which no
bird has yet divulged to us, and which seems to have
made him an outcast from the society of birds of the
day. He is branded with perpetual infamy." I trust
that Mr. Evans will not take it ill if I state that there is
no secret in the matter. Diurnal birds are not aware
that the country is full of owls, so that when one of
these appears they regard it as an intruder, a new
addition to the local fauna, to extirpate which is
their bounden duty. When a cockatoo escapes from its
cage the local birds mob it quite as viciously as they do
the owl.

Another pecuHarity of the owl lies in the position of
its eyes. These are forwardly directed. In most birds
the eyes are placed at the side of the head, so that owls

OWLS 59

alone among the feathered folk can truly be said to
possess faces. The position of a bird's eyes is not the
result of chance or accident. A creature whose eyes
are forwardly directed can see better ahead of him
than he could were they placed at the sides of the head,
but he cannot see what is going on behind his back.
Animals whose eyes are at the side of the head have a
much wider range of vision, for the areas covered by
their visual organs do not overlap. Such creatures
cannot set; quite so well things in front of them, but
can witness much of what is going on behind them.
They are therefore better protected from a rear attack
than they would be did their eyes face forwards. The
result of this is that, if we divide birds and beasts into
those which hunt and those which are hunted, we
notice that in the latter the tendency is for the eyes
to be placed at the sides of the head. They thereby
enjoy a wider range of vision, while in the former the
tendency is for the eyes to be so situated as to enable
them best to espy their quarry. Compare the position
of the eyes in the tiger and the ox, in the eagle and
the sparrow. The tiger and eagle have little fear of being
attacked, so have thrown caution to the winds and
concentrated their energies to equipping themselves
for attack. In owls the eyes are more forwardly
directed than in the diurnal birds of prey, because they
have to hunt their quarry under more difficult con-
ditions. Even when its ears inform the owl that there is
some creature near by, it requires the keenest eyesight
to detect what this is. The position of a bird's eyes
is determined by natural selection. With colour and

6o JUNGLE FOLK

such-like trifles natural selection has but Httle to do.
It works on broad lines. It determines certain Hmits
within which variations are permissible ; it does not go
into details. So far as it is concerned, an organism may
vary considerably, provided the limits it defines are
not transgressed. This statement will not meet with
the approval of ultra-Darwinians, but I submit that it
is nevertheless in accordance with facts. If we try to
account for every trivial feature in every bird and
beast on the principle of natural selection, we soon find
ourselves lost in a maze of difficulties.

It is because the eyes of owls are forwardly-directed
that they are such easy birds to mob. They can see
only in one direction — a limitation which day-birds
have discovered. The result is that when the owls do
venture forth during the daytime, they come in for
rough handling. The position of the eyes in the owl
would lead us to infer that the bird has but few enemies
to fear, and, so far as I am aware, there is no creature
which preys on them, except, of course, the British
gamekeeper. Why, then, are owls not more numerous
than they are in those countries where there are no
gamekeepers to vex their souls ? The population of
owls must of course be limited by the abundance of
their quarry. But there is more than enough food
to satisfy the hunger of the existing owls. What, then,
keeps down their numbers ? Mr. F. C. Selous has
asked a similar question with regard to lions in Africa.
Even before the days of the express rifle lions were
comparatively scarce, while the various species of deer
roamed about the country in innumerable herds. The

OWLS 6i

answer must, I think, be found in the intensity of the
struggle for existence. Nature balances things with
such nicety that the beasts of prey have their work
cut out to secure their food. The quarry is there in
abundance ; the difficulty is to catch it. If this be
so, it follows that the weaker, the less swift, the less
skilled of the predaceous creatures must starve to
death. In that case the lot of birds and beasts of prey
is a less happy one than that of their victims. These
latter are usually able to find food in abundance, and
death comes suddenly and unexpectedly upon them
when they are in the best of health. How much better
is such an end than death due to starvation ?

In most birds the opening of the auditory organ is
small ; in owls it is very large and is protected by a
movable flap of skin, which probably aids the bird
in focussing sounds. In many species of owl the two
ear-openings are asymmetrical and differ in shape and
size. This arrangement is probably conducive to the
accurate location of sound. Want of space debars me
from further dilating upon the wonderful ear of the
owl.

In conclusion, mention must be made of the flexible

wing feathers, and their soft, downy edges. Air rushing

through these makes no sound. Hence the ear may not

hear, but

" The eye
May trace those sailing pirates of the night,
Stooping with dusky prows to cleave the gloom,
Scattering a momentary wake behind,
A palpable and broken brightness shed,
As with white wings they part the darksome air."

XI
A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY

THE common squirrel of India is a fur-
covered bundle of iniquity. He is a bigger
rascal than either the crow or the sparrow.
I am aware that these statements will not
be believed by many residents of Northern India. I
am sorry, but the truth must be told. Let those who
will imagine Sciurus palmantm to be a pretty, fluffy
little creature, as charming as he is abundant. I know
better. I have sojourned in Madras. In Northern
India the little striped squirrel is merely one of the
many tribes that live on your frontier ; in South India
he is a stranger who dwells within your gates. We who
are condemned to residence in the plains of Northern
India keep our bungalows shut up during the greater
part of the year in order to protect ourselves from the
heat, or the cold, or the dust, or whatever climatic
ill happens to be in season. And when the weather does
permit us to open our doors we have to guard them
by means of chiks from the hordes of insects that are
always ready to rush in upon us. Thus we keep the
squirrel at arm's length. In Madras you lead a very
different life. The gentle breeze is always welcome,
you rarely, if ever, close the doors of your bungalow, for

A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY 63

extremes of temperature are unknown. Nor are you
obliged to protect every aperture by means of a chik.
There is thus no barrier between the squirrel and
yourself. The result is that the impudent little rodent
behaves as though he believed that men build their
bungalows chiefly for his benefit. Not content with
living rent-free in your house during the nesting season,
he expects you to furnish his quarters for him, and to
provide him with food. As I have hinted elsewhere,
Indian bungalows are constructed in such a manner
as to lead one to infer that there is a secret compact
between the builders and the fowls of the air. The
rafters rarely fit properly into the walls, and the
spaces left make ideal nesting sites for sparrows and
squirrels. These last, although devoid of wings, are
such adepts at climbing that there are few spots in any
building to which they are unable to gain access.

In Madras punkahs are up all the year round, and,
as usually they are pulled only at meal times, squirrels
regard them as paths leading to their nests. Running
up the hanging rope, walking, Blondin-like, along the
leathern thongs that lead to the punkah, jumping from
these on to the top of the punkah frame, climbing up
the rope to a rafter, and marching along this to the nest,
are feats which the little striped rodent performs
without effort.

In default of a suitable cavity, the squirrel constructs,
among the branches of a tree, a large globular nest,
which has the appearance of a conglomeration of grass,
straw, and rubbish, but it contains a cosily lined
central cavity. Any available soft material is used

64 JUNGLE FOLK

to make the interior of the nest warm and comfortable.
When squirrels are nesting it is not safe to leave any
balls or skeins of wool lying about the bungalow. The
fluffy little creatures sometimes display considerable
ingenuity in adapting materials for use in nest con-
struction. One rascal of my acquaintance destroyed
a nearly new grey topi, finding the felt covering and
the pith *' the very thing " for nest-lining.

Books on natural history inform us that the food of
this species of squirrel consists of seeds, fruits, and
buds, with an occasional insect by way of condiment.
This is the truth, but it is not the whole truth. The
above list does not by any means exhaust the menu
of Sciurus palmarum. My experience shows him to be
nearly as omnivorous as the myna. Occasionally I
fall asleep again after my chota hazri has been brought.
In Madras I was sometimes punished for my laziness
by the disappearance of the toast or the butter.
Needless to state that theft had been perpetrated,
and that the crows and the squirrels were the culprits.

On one occasion I feigned sleep in order to see what
would happen. For a little all was still ; presently a
squirrel quietly entered the room, took a look round,
then chmbed up a leg of the table and boldly pulled
a piece of toast out of the rack which was within a
couple of feet of my face. It was no easy matter for
the little thief to climb down the leg of the table
with his big load. A loud thud announced that the
toast had fallen on to the floor. The squirrel scampered
away in alarm, leaving his booty behind him. In a
few seconds his head appeared at the doorway f having

A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY 65

regarded me attentively with his bright little eye, and
satisfied himself that all was well, he advanced to the
toast and bore it off. But, alas, the way of transgressors
is hard ! A " lurking, villain crow," who had been
watching the theft from the verandah, pounced upon
the thief, and bore off his ill-gotten toast. The wrath
of the squirrel was a sight for the gods. His whole
frame quivered as he told that crow what he thought
of him.

Sciurus palmarum is very fond of bread and milk, and
will, in order to obtain this, perform deeds of great
daring. I once kept a grackle, or hill-myna. This
bird, when not at large, used to dwell in a wicker cage.
In a corner of this cage a saucer of bread-and-milk
was sometimes placed. The squirrels soon learned to
climb up the leg of the table on which the cage stood,
insert their little paws between the bars, and abstract
the bread-and-milk, piece by piece. In order to
frustrate them, I placed the saucer in the middle of
the cage. Their reply to this was to gnaw through a
bar, and boldly enter the cage. They grew so audacious
that they used to walk into the cage while I was
present in the room ; but, of course, the least move-
ment on my part was the signal for them to dash away
into the verandah. On one occasion I was too quick
for a squirrel who was feeding inside the grackle 's cage.
I succeeded in placing my hand in front of the gnawed-
through bar before he could escape. He dashed about
the cage like a thing demented, and so alarmed the
myna that I had to let him out. In half an hour he
was again inside the cage !

66 JUNGLE FOLK

The little striped squirrel feeds largely on the ground.
As every Anglo-Indian knows, it squats on its hind legs
when eating, and nibbles at the food which it holds
in its fore-paws. In this attitude its appearance is
very rat-like, its tail not being much en evidence. It is
careful never to wander far away from trees, in which
it immediately takes refuge when alarmed. It does
not always wait for the seeds, etc., upon which it feeds,
to fall to the ground : it frequently devours these while
still attached to the parent plant. Being very light,
it can move about on slender boughs. It is able to
jump with ease from branch to branch, but in doing so
causes a great commotion in the tree ; its arboreal
movements seem very clumsy when compared with
those of birds of the same size.

Squirrels are sociably inclined creatures ; when not
engaged in rearing up their families they live in colonies
in some decayed tree. At sunrise they issue forth from
the cavity in which they have slept, and bask for a
time in the sun before separating to visit their several
feeding-grounds ; at sunset they all return to their
dormitory. Before retiring for the night they play
hide-and-seek on the old tree, chasing each other in
and out of the holes with which it is riddled.

Young squirrels are born blind and naked, and are
then ugly creatures. Their skin shows the three black
longitudinal stripes — the marks of Hanuman's fingers —
which give this creature its popular name. The hair
soon grows and transforms the squirrels.

A baby Sciurus makes a charming pet. The rapid
movements are a never-failing source of amusement. It

A BUNDLE OF INIQUITY 67

is feeding out of your hand when it takes alarm at ap-
parently nothing, and, before you can realise what has
happened, it has disappeared. After a search it is found
under the sofa, on the mantelpiece, or out in the garden.
I know of one who took refuge in its owner's skirts.
She had to retire to her room and divest herself of
sundry garments before she could recover it. Once,
in trying to catch a baby squirrel that was about to
leap off the table, I seized the end of its tail ; to my
astonishment the squirrel went off, leaving the ter-
minal inch of its caudal appendage in my hand, nor
did the severance of its note of interrogation seem to
cause it any pain. A squirrel's tail, like a lamp brush,
is composed mainly of bristles.

XII

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE
ACTIONS OF ANIMALS

THE proper interpretation of the actions of
animals is one of the greatest of the diffi-
culties which confront the naturahst. We
all know how liable a man's actions are to
be misinterpreted by his fellow-men, whose thoughts
and feelings are similar to his. How much more must
we be hable to put false constructions on the acts of
those creatures whose thoughts are not our thoughts
and whose feelings are not our feelings ? The natural
tendency is, of course, to assign human attributes to
animals, to put anthropomorphic interpretations on
their actions, to endow dumb creatures with mental
concepts like those of man — in short, to credit them
with reasoning powers similar to those enjoyed by
human beings. That this is incorrect is the opinion of
all who have made a study of the question, and yet
even such seem unable completely to divest themselves
of the tendency to regard animals as rather simple
human folk. I do not wish to speak dogmatically upon
this most difficult subject. Let it suffice that it is my
belief that animals do not possess the mental powers

ACTIONS OF ANIMALS 69

popularly ascribed to them. My object is not to argue,
but to record some instances showing how liable we
are to misinterpret animal actions.

Some time ago, while walking near the golf-links at
Lahore, I noticed a rat-bird, or common babbler (Argya
caudata, to give it its proper name), with a green cater-
pillar hanging from its beak. The succulent insect was,
of course, intended for a young bird in a nest near by.
Being in no hurry, I determined to find that nest.
Under such circumstances, the easiest way is to sit
down and wait for the parent bird to indicate the
position of the nursery. The bird with the caterpillar
had seen me, so, instead of flying with it to the nest,
moved about from bush to bush uttering his or her note
of anger (I do not pretend to be able to distinguish a
cock from a hen rat-bird). In a few minutes the other
parent appeared on the scene, also with something in
its beak. Observing that all was not well, it too began
to " beat about the bush," or rather from one bush to
another. Meanwhile, both swore at the ungentlemanly
intruder. However, I had no intention of moving
on before I fomid that nest. After a little time the
patience of the second bird became exhausted ; it flew
to a small bush, into which it disappeared, to reappear
almost immediately with an empty beak. I immedi-
ately advanced on that bush, of which the top was not
three feet above the ground. In the bush I found a
neatly constructed, cup-shaped nest, which contained
five young rat-birds. I handled these, taking one
ugly, naked fellow in my hand in full view of the
parents, who were swearing like bargees. I was careful

70 JUNGLE FOLK

to make certain that the mother and father could see
what I was doing, for I was anxious to find out how
far their laudable attempts at the concealment of the
nest from me were due to the exercise of intelHgence.
Having replaced the baby bird in the nest, I returned
to the place where I had waited for the parents to
direct me to their nursery, and watched their future
actions. If they had been acting intelligently, they
would reason thus, " The great ogre has found our
nest and seen our little ones. If he wants them we
are powerless to prevent him taking them. The
game of keeping their whereabouts hidden from him
is up. There is nothing left for us to do but to continue
to feed our chicks in the ordinary way without further
attempt at concealment." If, however, they were
acting blindly, merely obeying the promptings of the
instinct which teaches them not to feed their young
ones in the presence of danger, they would be as
unwilling now to visit the nest as they were after they
first caught sight of me. They pursued the latter
course, thus demonstrating that this seemingly most
intelligent behaviour is prompted by instinct.

It is a well-known fact that some birds, such as the
partridge, whose young are able to run about when
first hatched, behave in a very clever manner in
presence of danger. The mother bird acts as though
her wing was broken, and flutters away from the in-
truder with what appears to be a great and painful
effort. By this means she draws the attention of the
enemy to herself ; meanwhile her chicks are able to
hide themselves in whatever cover happens to be con-

ACTIONS OF ANIMALS n

venient. If anything looks like an intelligent act this
surely does. But in this case appearances are deceptive.
It sometimes happens that a hen partridge acts in
this manner before her eggs are hatched. Under such
circumstances the pretence of a broken wing is not
only useless, but positively harmful, since it probably
directs the attention of the intruder to her white eggs.
This feigning of injury would thus appear to be a
purely instinctive act, a course of behaviour dictated
by natural selection. Mr. Edmund Selous discusses
the origin of this peculiar habit in that admirable book
entitled Bird Watching, to which I would refer those
who are interested in the matter. Instances such as
these, of acts which are only apparently purposeful,
could easily be multiplied. They should prevent our
rushing to the conclusion that because a cat, or dog,
or horse behaves in a sensible manner under certain
conditions, it is exercising intelligence. Natural
selection has brought instinct to such perfection that
many instinctive actions are very difficult to dis-
tinguish from those which are intelligent.

XIII
AT THE SIGN OF THE FARASH

THE far ash tree [Tamarix articulata), re-
garded from the point of view of a huraan
being, is everything that a tree should not
be. Its wood has little or no commercial
value, being of not much use even as fuel. Its needle-
like leaves afford no shade. It has a dusty, dried-up,
funereal appearance. During the day it absorbs a large
amount of the sun's heat, which it emits, with interest,
at night-time, so that if, on a hot-weather evening, you
happen to pass near a far ash tree you cannot fail to
notice that the temperature of the air immediately
surrounding it is considerably higher than it is else-
where. Each farash tree becomes, for the time being,
a natural heating stove. In appearance the farash is
not unlike a stunted casuarina tree. It is what botan-
ists call a xerophile ; it is addicted to dry, sandy soil,
and is found only in the more desert-like parts of Sind
and the Punjab. The one redeeming feature of the
farash tree is the shelter it affords to the fowls of the air.
Its wood is so soft and so liable to decay that the tree
seems to have been evolved chiefly for the benefit
of those birds which nest in holes. The interior of

AT THE SIGN OF THE FARASH 73

every aged farash is as full of cavities as a honeycomb.
A grove of farash trees is a veritable bird hotel ; it
might with truth be called UHotel des Oiseaux. Like
many of the hotels built for the accommodation of
human beings, the Farash Hotel is almost deserted
at some periods of the year and overcrowded at others.
It has its " season." During the winter months many
of its rooms remain untenanted. The more com-
modious ones, however, are occupied all the year
round ; some by spotted owlets [Athene hrama), and
others by the little striped squirrel {Sciiirus palmarum) .
The spotted owlets do not, hke most birds, visit the
farash merely for nesting purposes ; they live in it,
lying up in their inner chamber during the day, immune
from the attacks of crows, kites, drongos, and other
birds that vex the souls of httle owls. No matter at
what season of the year you call at the hotel, you will
find Mr. and Mrs. Spotted Owlet at home during the
daytime. If you tap on the trunk, which is tanta-
mount to knocking at the door or shouting " Koi hat,"
you may expect to see appear at the door of the suite
occupied by the owlets a droll little face, that will
bow to you, but with such grimaces as to leave no
doubt that you are unwelcome.

The squirrels are winter residents in the hotel ; they
like to dwell in it throughout the year, but are not
always permitted to do so. Numbers of them are
ejected every February by the green parrot {Palceornis
torquatus) . The green parrot is a bully, and is neither
troubled by the Nonconformist conscience, nor ham-
pered by the Ten Commandments ; so that, when he

74 JUNGLE FOLK

has set his heart on a certain suite in the hotel, he
proceeds to install himself therein, regardless of the
vested interests of the squirrels. The " season " may
be said to begin with the arrival of the green parrots.
These rowdy creatures make things " hum," and must
cause considerable annoyance to the more respectable
birds that stay in the hotel. The green parrot is to
bird gentlefolk what the Italian organ-grinder is to
the musical Londoner — an ill that has to be endured.
The little coppersmith {Xantholcema hcBmatocephala)
takes up its quarters in the bird hotel early in the
season. It is very particular as regards its accom-
modation. It holds, and rightly holds, that rooms
which have already been lived in are apt to harbour
parasites and carry disease, so insists on hewing out a
chamber for itself. Owing to the industry of both the
cock and the hen, the excavation of their retort-
shaped nesting chamber occupies surprisingly little
time, and the neat, circular front-door that leads to it
compares very favourably with the irregular, broken-
down-looking entrance to the quarters occupied by the
parrots or owlets. As often as not the coppersmith
excavates its nest in a horizontal bough, in which case
the entrance is invariably made on the under surface,
with the object of preventing rain-water coming into
the room.

Another regular patron of the Farash Hotel is the
beautiful golden-backed woodpecker {Brachypternus
aurantius). This bird usually arrives later in the season
than the coppersmith, but, like it, disdains a room
which has been occupied by others. It is not, as a rule.

AT THE SIGN OF THE FARASH 75

so industrious as the coppersmith, for it usually selects
for the site of its abode a part of the tree that is more
or less hollow, and proceeds, by means of its pick-hke
beak, to cut out a neat round passage or tube leading
to the ready-made cavity.

The most flashy of the habitues of the hotel is the
Indian roller (Coracias indica), or " blue jay," as he is
more commonly called. Like " loud " human beings,
the roller bird is excessively noisy. When there are
both green parrots and blue jays in the hotel it becomes
a veritable bear-garden, resembling the hotels in
Douglas, a town of the Isle of Man. During the summer
months these are filled with hoHday-makers from the
Lancashire mills, who seem to spend the greater part
of the night in playing hide-and-seek, hunt the shpper,
" chase me," and such-hke delectable games in the
corridors and pubhc rooms. There is, however, this
difference between the rowdiness of the Lancashire
*' tripper " and that of the parrots and ''jays "—the
former is chiefly nocturnal, whereas the latter is
strictly diurnal. The blue jays indulge in their screech-
ings and* caterwaulings, their aerial gymnastics, their
" tricks i' the air," only during the hours of dayhght.
Not that the hotel is quiet at night. Far from it. The
spotted owlets take care of that. The blue jay is
not particular as to the nature of his accommodation ;
any kind of hole is accepted, provided it be fairly
roomy. He is quite content with a depression in the
broken stump of an upright bough. Sometimes the
bird places in its quarters a Httle furniture, in the shape
of a lining of feathers, grass, and paper. More often

76 JUNGLE FOLK

the bird scorns such luxuries, and is content with the
hard bare wood.

When a pair of blue jays first takes up its quarters in
the hotel a great secret is made of the fact. Anyone
who did not know the birds might think they were
trying to avoid their creditors. This is not the case.
The fact is that the nest contains some eggs which the
owners imagine every other creature wants to steal.
When, however, the young ones hatch out, the parents
forget all about the necessity for concealing the
whereabouts of the nest, so taken up are they with the
feeding of their young ones.

The hoopoe [Ufupa indica) is another bird that
must be numbered among the clientele of the hotel.
It is just the kind of visitor that a hotel proprietor
likes. It is not in the least particular as to its quarters.
Any tumble-down room will do, the filthier the better !
All that it demands is that the front-door shall be a
mere chink, only just large enough to admit of its
slender body. It then feels that its house is its castle ;
no enemy can possibly enter it.

The common myna {Acridotheres tvistis) is another
bird which habitually patronises the Farash Hotel.
It is even less particular than the hoopoe as to the
nature of its quarters — anything in the shape of a hole
does quite well. Having secured accommodation, it
proceeds to throw into it, pell-mell, a medley of straws,
sticks, rags, bits of paper. That is its idea of house-
furnishing. So untidy is the myna that you can
sometimes discover the room it occupies by the pieces
of furniture that stick out of the window ! The mynas

AT THE SIGN OF THE FARASH ^7

arrive later than most of the bkds which nest in the
farash, hence they find all the more desirable suites
occupied. This does not distress the happy-go-lucky
creatures in the least. They are probably the most
contented of all the members of the little colony that
lives in the Hotel des Oiseaiix. SiimmcB opes, inopia
cupiditatum.

XIV
THE COOT

THE coot {Fulica atra) is a rail which has
taken thoroughly to the water. It has,
in consequence, assumed many of the
characteristics of a duck. We may per-
haps speak of it as a pseudo-duck. Certain it is
that inexperienced sportsmen frequently shoot and
eat coots under the impression that they are " black
duck." Nevertheless, there is no bird easier to
identify than our friend, the bald coot. In the
hand it is quite impossible to mistake it for a duck.
Its toes are not joined together by webs, but are
separated and furnished with lobes which assist it
in swimming. Its beak is totally different from that
of the true ducks. But there is no necessity to shoot
the coot in order to identify it. Save for the con-
spicuous white bill, and the white shield on the front
of the head, which constitutes its " baldness," the
coot is as black as the proverbial nigger-boy. Thus
its colouring suffices to differentiate it from any of the
ducks that visit India. Further, as " Eha " truly says,
" its dumpy figure and very short tail seem to dis-
tinguish it, even before one gets near enough to make

THE COOT 79

out its uniform black colour and conspicuous white
bill." The difficulty which the coot experiences in
rising from the water is another easy way of identifying
it. Ducks rise elegantly and easily ; the coot plunges
and splashes and beats the water so vigorously with
wings and feet that it appears to run along the surface
for a few yards before it succeeds in maintaining itself
in the air. But, when fairly started, it moves at a great
pace, so that, as regards flight, it may well say, even at
the risk of perpetrating a pun, II n'y a que le premier
fas qui conte. During the efforts preliminary to flight
the bird presents a very easy mark ; hence its popu-
larity among inexperienced sportsmen. Now, since
the coot is, to use a racing term, so indifferent a starter,
raptorial birds must find it a quarry particularly easy
to catch. Therefore, according to the rules of the
game of natural selection, as drawn up by the learned
brotherhood of zoologists, the coot ought to be as
difficult to see as a thief in the night, and should spend
its life skulking among rushes, in order to escape its
foes. As a matter of fact it is as conspicuous as a
Hfeguardsman in full uniform, and, so far from having
the habits of a skulker, it seems to take a positive
delight in exposing itself, for, as Jerdon says, " It is
often seen in the middle of some large tank far away
from weeds or cover."

Someone has suggested that the coot is an example
of warning colouration, that it is unpalatable to birds
of prey, and that its black livery and white face are
nature's equivalent to the druggist's label bearing the
legend ** Poison." Unfortunately for this suggestion,

8o JUNGLE FOLK

certain sportsmen, as we have seen, never lose an
opportunity of dining off roast coot, and appear to be
none the worse for the repast. Moreover, Mr. Frank
Finn, who holds that no man is properly acquainted
with any species of bird until he has partaken of the
flesh thereof, informs us that '* coots are edible, but
need skinning, as the skin is tough and rank in taste."
Miss J. A. Owen has a higher opinion of the flavour of
the bird. She maintains that coots are " very good
for eating, but they are not often used for the table,
chiefly because they are so difficult to pluck, except
when quite warm." Further, low-caste Indians appear
to be very partial to the flesh of our pseudo-duck. One
of the drawbacks to water-fowl shooting in this country
is the constant wail of the boatmen, *' Maro wo chiriya,
sahib, ham log khate hain " (Shoot that bird, sir, we
people eat it). Neither expostulations nor threats will
stay the clamour. The sportsman will enjoy no peace
until he sacrifices a coot. If, then, human beings of
various sorts and conditions can and do eat the coot, it
is absurd to suppose that the creature is unpalatable
to birds of prey, some of which will devour even the
crow. It is true that I do not remember ever having
seen an eagle take a coot, but how few of us ever do see
raptorial creatures seize their victims ? What is more
to the point, some observers have seen coots attacked
by birds of prey. We are, therefore, compelled to
regard the bald coot as a ribald fellow, who makes
merry at the expense of modern zoologists by setting at
naught the theory of natural selection as it has been
developed of late.

THE COOT 8i

Some may, perhaps, accuse me of never missing an
opportunity to cast a stone at this hypothesis. To the
charge I must plead guilty ; but at the same time
I urge the plea of justification. The amount of non-
sense talked by some naturalists in the name of natural
selection is appalling. The generally accepted con-
ception of the nature of the struggle for existence needs
modification. Natural selection has of late become a
kind of fetish in England. So long as biologists are
content to fall down and worship the golden calf
they have manufactured, it is hopeless to look for
rapid scientific progress. The aspersions I cast on
Wallaceism are either justified or they are not. If
they are justified, it is surely high time to abandon
the doctrine of the all-sufficiency of natural selection
to account for the whole of organic evolution. If, on
the other hand, they are not justified, why do not the
orthodox biologists arise and refute my statements and
arguments ? It is my belief that the black livery of the
coot is not only not the product of natural selection,
but is positively harmful to its possessor ; that the
coot would be an even more successful species than it
now is, if, while retaining all its habits and other
characteristics, it had a coat of less conspicuous hue.
I maintain that many organisms possess characters
which are positively injurious to them, and yet manage
to survive. Natural selection has to take animals and
plants as it finds them — their good qualities with the
bad. If a species comes up to a certain standard, that
species will be permitted to survive, in spite of some
defects. By the ill-luck of variation the coot has

82 JUNGLE FOLK

acquired black plumage, but this ill-luck is out-
weighed by its good-luck in possessing some favourable
characters.

The first of these favourable attributes is a good
constitution. Thanks to this the coot is able to thrive
in every kind of climate : in foggy, damp England ;
in the hot, steamy swamps of Sind, and in cold Kash-
mir. In this respect it enjoys a considerable advantage
over the ducks, inasmuch as it is not exposed to the
dangers and tribulations of the long migratory flight.

Another valuable asset of the coot is a good digestion.
Creatures which can live on a mixed diet usually do
well in the struggle for existence. Then, the coot is a
proHfic bird. It brings up several broods in the year,
and its clutch of eggs is a large one. The nest is usually
well concealed among reeds and floats on the surface
of the water, so is difficult of access to both birds and
beasts of prey. Moreover, the mother coot carefully
covers up the eggs when she leaves the nest. Another
useful characteristic of the coot is its wariness. Many
water-fowl go to sleep in the daytime, but the coot
appears to be always watchful. This perhaps explains
its popularity with ducks and other water birds,
although I should be incUned to attribute it to the
extreme amiability of the coot. Nothing seems to
ruffle him, except the approach of a strange male bird
to the nest. Whatever be the reason therefor, the
general popularity of the coot among his fellow-water-
fowl is so well established that in England many
sportsmen encourage coot on to their waters in order
to attract other water-fowl. Thus, a strong con-

THE COOT 83

stitution, a good digestion, prolificness, and wariness,
enable the coot to thrive, in spite of its showy Hvery.
The first three of the above characteristics enable the
species to contend successfully with cHmate and
disease, which are checks on the increase of organisms
far more potent than predaceous animals. It is also
possible — but this has yet to be domonstrated —
that the coot, although edible, is not considered a
dehcacy by birds of prey, and so is taken when nothing
more dainty is obtainable. If this be the case, it could,
of course, minimise the disadvantages of the coot's
conspicuousness. But even then there is no evading
the fact that the blackness of the coot is an un-
favourable characteristic.

THE BEAUTIFUL PORPHYRIO

THE bald coot is, as we have seen, a rail that
has taken thoroughly to an aquatic Hfe.
The purple coot ma}- be described as a rail,
which, while displa\iDg hankerings after
a hfe on the hquid element, has not definite^ com-
mitted itself to the water. The porph\'rio, then, is a
rail which, to use a pohtical expression, is " sitting
on the fence." The indecision of Mr. Porph^Tio has
somewhat puzzled ornithologists. These seem to be
vmable to come to an agreement as to what to call him.
Jerdon dubs him a coot, Blanford a moor-hen. The
New Zealanders term him a swamp-hen, and their
name is better than that given him by either Jerdon
or Blanford, as denoting that the bird is neither a
coot nor a moor-hen. But, perhaps, the classical name
best suits a bird which is arrayed in purple and fine
linen. For the fine linen, please look under the tail,
at what Dr. Wallace would call the bird's recognition
mark, although I am sure it wiM puzzle that great
biologist to say what use so uniquely plumaged a bird
as the porph^Tio can have for a recognition mark.
As well might Napoleon have worn a red necktie, to

THE BEAUTIFUL PORPHYRIO 85

enable his friends to recognise him when the}' met him !
But this is a digression.

The Greeks were well acquainted with a near relative
of the Indian porph\Tio, which the}' kept in confine-
ment. " For a wonder," writes Finn, *' they did not
keep it to eat, but because they credited it with a
strong aversion to breaches of the conjugal tie in its
owTier's household." He adds : " Considering the
state of morahty among the wealthier Romans, I fear
that accidents must often have happened to pet
porph\Tios."

The purple moor-hen is a study in shades of art blue
— a bird which should appeal strongly to Messrs.
Liberty and Co. Its bill, which is not flat hke that of
a duck, but rounded, is bright red, as is the large
triangular shield on the forehead. Its long legs and
toes are a paler red. The plumage is thus described
by Blanford : " Head pale, brownish gre\', tinged with
cobalt on cheeks and throat, and passing on the nape
into the deep purphsh lilac of the hind neck, back,
rump, and upper tail-coverts ; wings outside, scapu-
lars and breast Hght greenish blue ; abdomen and
flanks hke the back ; the wing and tail-coverts black,
blue on the exposed portions ; imder tail-coverts
white."

So striking a bird is this coot, that it cannot fail to
arrest one's attention. Many sportsmen seem unable
to resist the temptation of shooting it. Mr. Edgar
Thurston informs me that a cold weather never passes
without some sportsman sending him a specimen of
Porphyria polioccphalus for the Madras Museum. They

86 JUNGLE FOLK

come across the bird when out snipe-shooting, and,
thinking it a rare and valuable species, pay it the very
doubtful compliment of shooting it. As the museum
has now a sufficient stock of stuffed porphyries to meet
its requirements for the next few decades, I hope that
sportsmen in that part of the world will in future stay
their hand when they come across the beautiful swamp-
hen.

Rush-covered marshes, lakes, and jhils, which are
overgrown with reeds and thick sedges, form the happy
hunting-grounds of this species. Its long toes enable
it to run about on the broad floating leaves of aquatic
plants. They also make it possible for the bird to cling
to the stems of reeds and bushes. Very strange is the
sight it presents when so doing — a bird as big as a
fowl behaving like a reed warbler. The long toes of the
porphyrio are not webbed, but are provided with
narrow lobes which enable it to swim, though not with
the same ease as its cousin, the bald coot.

In places where it is abundant the purple swamp-
hen is very sociable, and keeps much more to cover
than does the coot. When flushed, it flies well and
swiftly, with its legs pointing backwards — the position
so characteristic of the legs of the heron during flight.
Its diet is largely vegetarian, and it is said to commit
much havoc in paddy fields. The harm it does is
probably exaggerated, for the purple coot flourishes
in many districts where no paddy is grown.

This species has one very unrail-like habit, that of
taking up its food in its claws. Its European cousin,
P. veterum, was seen by Canon Tristram " to seize a

THE BEAUTIFUL PORPHYRIO 87

duckling in its large foot, crush its head and eat its
brains, leaving the rest untouched." This behaviour
Legge stigmatises as cannibalism ! There is no evi-
dence that the purple moor-hen is a cannibal, but it is
not safe to keep the bird in the same enclosure as
weaker birds.

Its voice is not melodious ; indeed, it is scarcely
more pleasant to refined ears than the wail of the street-
singer.

Purple coots breed in company. The nest is a plat-
form made of reeds and rushes, or, when these are not
available, of young paddy plants, erected on a tussock
of long grass projecting out of the water, usually some
way from the edge of the jhiL Hume's observations
led him to lay down two propositions regarding the
nesting habits of this species. First, " that all birds
in the same swamp both lay and hatch off about the
same time." Secondly, " that in two different jhils
only a dozen miles apart, and, apparently, precisely
similarly situated, there will be a difference of fifteen
days or more in the period of the laying of the two
colonies." Neither of these statements appears to
hold good of the purple coot in Ceylon, for, according
to Mr. H. Parker, " they do not breed there simul-
taneously." " Young birds, eggs in all stages of incu-
bation and partly built nests are all found in the same
tank. In some cases the eggs are laid at considerable
intervals. I have met with a nestling, partly incu-
bated eggs of different ages and fresh eggs in the same
nest." Widely distributed species not infrequently
display local variations in habit. Such local pecuhari-

88 JUNGLE FOLK

ties are of considerable interest, for they must some-
times Jorm the starting-points for new species. They
are also responsible for some of the discrepancies which
occur in the accounts of the species by various ob-
servers. The nesting season is from June to September ;
August for choice, in India. The eggs are pale pink,
heavily splashed with red, quite in keeping with the
beautiful plumage that characterises the adult bird.
Sometimes the eggs of purple coots are placed under
the barn-door fowl. Young porphyrios hatched under
such conditions become quite tame and form a pleasing
addition to the farmyard.

XVI

THE COBRA

yA CCORDING to my dictionary, the cobra di
/^ capello (Naia tripudians) is a reptile of
/ ^ the most venomous nature. This, Hke
many other things the dictionary says, is
not strictly true. There exist snakes whose bite is far
more poisonous than that of the cobra. The common
krait, for example, is four times as venomous, and yet
the bite of this little reptile is mild as compared with
that of the sea snake, which should be carefully dis-
tinguished from the sea-serpent of the " silly season."
But let us not quarrel with the writer of the dictionary ;
he did his best. The cobra is quite venomous enough
for all practical purposes to merit the title of *' the
most venomous." A fair bite kills a dog in from five
minutes to an hour. Notwithstanding the lethal
nature of his bite, the cobra is said by all who know
him intimately to be a gentle, timid creature. Sulki-
ness is his worst vice. In captivity he sometimes sulks
to such a degree as to starve to death unless food be
pushed down his gullet ! The cobra is a reptile who
prefers retiring gracefully to facing the foe. It is
only when driven into a corner that he strikes, and then

90 JUNGLE FOLK

apparently he does so with the utmost reluctance.
Nicholson writes : "A cobra standing at bay can be
readily captured ; put the end of a stick gently across
his head and bear it down to the ground by a firm
and gradual pressure. He will not resist. Then place
the stick horizontally across his neck and take him
up. You must not dawdle about this ; sharp is the
word, when dealing with snakes, and they have as
much respect for firm and kind treatment as contempt
for timidity and irresolution.'* *' There is very little
danger," he adds, " about handling this snake ; nerve
is all that is required." I have no doubt that this
is all true. It is certainly borne out by the non-
chalance with which an Indian, who is accustomed
to snakes, will put his hand into a basket of cobras and
pull one out. There are, however, some things the
doing of which I prefer to leave to others, and one of
these is the handling of venomous snakes. There is
always the colubrine equivalent of the personal equa-
tion to be taken into consideration. People whose
fondness for playing with fire takes the form of snake-
charming will do well to operate upon Hght-coloured
specimens, for experience has taught those who handle
snakes that dark-coloured varieties are worse-tempered
than those of paler hue. In some unaccountable
manner blackness seems to be correlated with evil
temper. Another word of warning. A snake has a
longer reach than might be anticipated. On one
occasion, wishing to show how the cobra strikes,
I walked up to within a yard or two of one stand-
ing at bay and threw a clod of earth at him. He

THE COBRA 91

struck, and his head came unpleasantly near to my
legs !

The cobra is a species of considerable interest to the
zoologist. In the first place, several varieties exist.
Some cobras have no figure marked on the hood, others
display a pattern like a pair of spectacles, while others
show a monocle. These are known respectively as the
anocellate, the binocellate, and the monocellate varie-
ties. The binocellate form is most frequently met with.
It is found all over India. It is the only variety that
occurs in Madras, and the one most commonly found
in Bombay and North-Western India. The great
majority of the cobras that dwell in Central India
belong to the anocellate variety. This form is also
found on the frontier from Afghanistan to Sikkim. The
monocellate variety is the common cobra of Bengal,
Burma, and China.

There can be but little doubt that the cobra is a
form undergoing active evolution. Naia tripudians
appears to be spHtting up into three species. The
spectacled cobra is probably the ancestral form. The
black anocellate variety seems best adapted to the
climatic conditions of the Central Provinces, while
the pale, binocellate form thrives in Southern India.
It is possible that these external characteristics are
in some way correlated with adaptability to particular
environments. Curiously enough, brown, yellow, and
black varieties of the African cobra {Naia haje) exist.
Some species of birds display a similar phenomenon.
The coucal or crow-pheasant, for example, is divided
up into three local races. Most naturahsts are agreed

92 JUNGLE FOLK

that geographical isolation has been an important
factor in the making of some species. Exactly why
this should be so has yet to be explained.

Another interesting feature of the genus Naia is the
dilatable neck or hood. Of what use is this to its pos-
sessor ? Zoologists, or at least those of them who sit
at home in easy chairs and formulate theories, have
an answer to this question. They assert that the hood
has a protective value. A cobra when at bay raises
the anterior portion of its body, expands its hood, and
hisses. This is supposed to terrify those animals which
witness the demonstration. Thus Professor Poulton
writes : ** The cobra warns an intruder chiefly by
attitude and the broadening of its flattened neck, the
effect being heightened in some species by the * spec-
tacle.' " Unfortunately for this hypothesis, no crea-
ture, with the possible exception of man, appears to be
in the least alarmed at this display. Dogs regard it as
a huge joke. Of this I have satisfied myself again and
again, for when out coursing at Muttra we frequently
came across cobras, which the dogs used invariably
to chase, and we sometimes found it very difficult to
keep the dogs off, since they seemed to be unaware
that the creature was venomous. Colonel Cunning-
ham's experience has been similar. He writes :
" Sporting dogs are very apt to come to grief where
cobras abound, as there is something very alluring to
them in the sight of a large snake when it sits up
nodding and snarling ; and it is often difficult to come
up in time to prevent the occurrence of irreparable
mischief." He also states that many ruminants have

THE COBRA 93

a great animosity to snakes and are prone to attack
any that they may come across. We must further
bear in mind that even if the cobra does bite his adver-
sary, this will avail him nothing, for the bite itself,
though painful, is not sufficiently so to put a large
animal hors de combat immediately. It does not profit
the cobra greatly that his adversary dies after having
killed him.

Thus, it seems to me that neither the hood nor the
venom is protective. Indeed, it is difficult to under-
stand how it is that the poison fangs have been evolved.
The venom, of course, soon renders a small victim
quiescent and so makes the swallowing of it easier than
would otherwise be the case. But non- venomous
snakes experience no difficulty in swallowing their
prey. Moreover, in order that natural selection can
explain the genesis and perfecting of an organ it is not
sufficient to show that the perfected organ is of use.
We must demonstrate that from its earliest beginning
the organ in question has ail along given its possessor
sufficient advantage in the struggle for existence to
effect his preservation when his fellows have been
killed.

XVII
THE MUNGOOSE

FROM the cobra it is a natural step to his foe —
the mungoose. This creature — the ichneu-
mon of the ancients — occupies a most
important place in the classical and mediae-
val bestiaries. Every old writer gives a graphic
account, with variations according to taste, of the
'* mortall combat " between the aspis and the ich-
neumon. But the noble creature was not content
with fighting a mere serpent, it used to pit itself
against the leviathan. Phny tells us that the crocodile,
having gorged himself, falls asleep with open mouth
in order that the little crocodile bird may enter and
pick his teeth. Then the watchful ichneumon "whip-
peth " into the monster's mouth and "shooteth"
himself down his throat as quick as an arrow. When
comfortably inside, the ichneumon sups off the bowels
of his host, and, having satisfied his hunger, eats his
way out through the crocodile's belly, so that, to use
the words of the learned Topsell, who gallantly gives
flace aux dames, " Shee that crept in by stealth at the
mouth, like a puny thief, cometh out at the belly like
a conqueror, through a passage opened by her own
labour and industrie."

THE MUNGOOSE 95

In these degenerate days the mungoose does not
perform such venturesome exploits ; nevertheless, he
still has a " bold and sanguinary disposition." Stern-
dale's tame mungoose once attacked a greyhound.
Although in the wild state he does nothing so quixotic
as to assail large snakes, the mungoose is a match for
the cobra. The natives of India declare that, when
bitten by his adversary, he trots off into the jungle and
there finds a root or plant which acts as an antidote to
poison, so that he may claim to be the discoverer of the
anti-venom treatment for snake-bite. We may term
this the anti-venom theory to account for the immunity
of the mungoose. It bears the stamp of antiquity, but
is unsupported by any evidence. In this respect it
is not much worse off than some modern zoological
theories. The other hypothesis we may call the-
prevention-is-better-than-cure theory. It attributes
the immunity of the mungoose to his remarkable
agility. He does not allow the cobra to " have a bite,"
and even if the latter does succeed in striking, the
chances are that its fangs will be turned aside by the
erected hair of the mungoose or fail to penetrate his
tough skin. Blanford states that although it has been
repeatedly proved that the little mammal dies if
properly bitten by a venomous snake, it is less sus-
ceptible to poison than other animals. He adds : "I
have seen a mungoose eat up the head and poison
glands of a large cobra, so the poison must be
harmless to the mucous membrane of the former
animal."

Eight species of mungoose occur in the Indian

96 JUNGLE FOLK

Empire. The only one which is well known is the
common mungoose, which Jerdon calls Herpestes
griseus. It is, I believe, now known as Herpestes mungo.
During the last century it has been renamed some
eight or nine times.

It is not necessary to describe the mungoose. The
few Anglo-Indians who have not met him in the wild
state must have frequently seen him among the
** properties " of the individual who calls himself a
snake-charmer.

The mungoose lives in a hole excavated by itself.
It is diurnal in habits, and feeds largely on animal food.
Jerdon states that it is " very destructive to such birds
as frequent the ground. Not infrequently it gets
access to tame pigeons, rabbits, or poultry, and
commits great havoc. ... I have often seen it make
a dash into a verandah where some cages of mynas,
parrakeets, etc., were daily placed, and endeavour to
tear them from their cage." But birds are not easy for
a terrestrial creature to procure, so that its animal food
consists chiefly of mice, small snakes, lizards, and
insects. Jerdon states that " it hunts for and devours
the eggs of partridges, quail, and other ground-laying
birds." I am inclined to think that the carnivorous
propensities of the mungoose have been exaggerated,
for its food seems to contain a considerable admixture
of vegetable substances. In captivity it will eat bread
and bananas, although it requires animal food in
addition. McMaster records the case of a mungoose
killed near Secunderabad, of which the stomach
contained a quail, a portion of a custard apple, a small

THE MUNGOOSE 97

wasp's nest, a blood-sucker lizard, and a number of
insects — quite a recherche little repast !

In Lahore I, or rather my wife, made the discovery
that the mungoose is very fond of bird-seed. A certain
individual contrived to spend the greater part of the
day in our bungalow. He was probably attracted
in the first instance by the amadavats. Finding that
these were secure in their strongly-made cage, he
turned his attention to their seed, and found that it was
good. When he had devoured all that had fallen to the
ground he would endeavour by means of his claws to
extract seed from within the cage. This used to alarm
the birds terribly ; one night their flutterings woke me
up. It takes an amadavat a long time to learn that
it is safe in its cage. It is not until after months of
captivity that it will sit on the floor of its house and
gaze placidly at the hungry shikra which has alighted
on the top. For this reason we did not encourage that
mungoose. I may say that we distinctly discouraged
it by throwing things at it, or chasing it out of the
bungalow whenever we saw it. But it soon became
so bold that, unless we ran out of the bungalow after
it, it used to remain irl hiding in the verandah, and,
a few seconds after all was quiet, its little nose would
appear at the doorway.

The impudence of the Indian house-crow is great,
that of the sparrow is colossal, that of the striped
squirrel staggering, but the impudence of all these is
surpassed by that of the mungoose. Small wonder,
then, that it makes an excellent pet. McMaster kept
one that died of grief when separated from him. But,

98 JUNGLE FOLK

in order to tame a mungoose, the animal must be
captured while young. Babu R. P. Sanyal, in his
useful Handbook on the Management of Animals in
Captivity, writes : " Adult specimens seldom become
tame enough even for exhibition in a menagerie ;
they either remain hidden away in the straw or snap
at the wire, uttering a querulous yelp, possibly ex-
pressive of disgust, at the approach of man. They
have been known to refuse nourishment and to starve
to death."

A mungoose (Herpestes ichneumon) allied to our
Indian species is common in Egypt, where it is known
as Pharaoh's rat or Pharoe's mouse. It is frequently
trained by the inhabitants to protect them from rats
and snakes.

J ''iThe mungoose is a ratter without peer. Bennet, in
his ^ower Menagerie, states that " the individual now
in the Tower actually, on one occasion, killed no fewer
than a dozen full-grown rats, which were loosed to it
in a room i6 feet square, in less than a minute and a
half." The Egyptian species eats crocodiles' eggs, so
that Diodorus Siculus remarks that but for the
ichneumon there would have been no sailing on the
Nile. The Indian species seems to display no penchant
towards crocodiles' eggs.

XVIII
THE SWAN

" With that I saw two swannes of goodly hewe
Come softly swimming downe the lee ;
Two fairer birds I yet did never see ;
The snow, which does the top of Pindus strew,
Did never whiter shew."

WHEN I speak of " the swan," I mean the
bird called by ornithologists the mute
swan (Cygnus olor), the swan of the poets
that warbles subhme and enchanting
music when it is about to shuffle off its mortal coil, the
tame swan of Europe, the swan that used to take
Siegfried for cheap trips down the river, the swan that
** graces the brook," the sv/an of the " stately homes
of England," the swan I used to feed as a youngster
on the Serpentine, not the black fellow in St. James's
Park, the swan that hovers expectantly in the offing
while you are having tea in a boat on the Thames.
This is, of course, by no means the only species of swan.
There are plenty of others — white ones, black ones,
black-and-white ones — for the family enjoys a wide
distribution. Nevertheless, I propose to confine
myself to this particular swan. I have excellent
reasons for doing so. As it is the only swan with which
I have had much to do, I can, like the Cambridge Don

lOO JUNGLE FOLK

who declared that the Kaiser was quite the pleasantest
Emperor he had ever met, say that Cygnus olor is the
most agreeable of my swan acquaintances. This may
sound like flattery, like the fulsome praise of the
penny-a-line puffer. It is nothing of the kind. It is
barely complimentary. Among the blind the one-eyed
is king, unless, of course, he lives in a republic. " You
are the best of a very bad lot," were the encouraging
words with which a prize for arithmetic was once
handed to me. The mute swan is the most agreeable
of a bad-tempered clan.

Swans are overrated birds. They cannot hold a
candle to their despised cousins, the geese. I am sorry
to have to say this, to thus shatter another idol of the
poets, to expose yet another of what the Babu would
call their ** bull cock " stories. I am the more sorry
as I am fully aware that this will bring down upon me
the thunderous wrath of the hterary critic, whose
devotion to the British bards is truly affecting. Let me,
therefore, by way of trimming, say that there is some
justification for idolising the swan. The bird is as
beautiful as the heroine in a three-volume novel. He
is dignified and stately, full of " placid beauty."
** Proudly and slow he swims through the lake in the
evening stillness. No leaf, no wave, is moving : the
swan alone goes on his soHtary course, floating silently
like a bright water spirit. How dazzHngly his snowy
whiteness shines ! How majestically the undulating
neck rises and bends ! With what lightness and
freedom he glides buoyantly away, the pinions unfurled
like sails ! Each outline melts into the other ; every

THE SWAN loi

attitude is full of feeling, in every movement is nobility :
an ever-changing play of graceful lines, as though he
knew that the very stream tarried to contemplate his
beauty."

But his splendour is not without alloy. It is marred
by the tiny, black, beady eye, which gives the bird an
evil-tempered, sinister expression. This expression is
in keeping with the character of the swan. Cygnus
is a bully. He delights to tyrannise over the ducks
who so often keep him company in captivity. The
domineering behaviour of an old swan that used to
live in the Zoological Gardens at Lahore was amusing
to watch. The water-fowl are fed twice daily, the food
being placed in a series of dishes so that all can eat
at once. The swan used to appropriate the first dish
to be filled, and no duck or goose durst approach that
dish. Having taken the edge off his appetite, the
swan would waddle to the next plate, and drive away
the ducks that were eating out of it. He would then
pass on to dish number three, and so on all along the
line, his idea being, apparently, to cause the maximum
of annoyance to his neighbours with the minimum of
trouble to himself. There were great rejoicings among
the ducks when that old swan died.

An angry swan is capable of inflicting a nasty blow
with its powerful wings. It is said to be able to use
these with such force as to break a man's arm. Mr.
Kay Robinson denies this, and declares that the wing
of a swan is not a formidable weapon. Personally, I
always give the wing the benefit of the doubt and an
angry swan a wide berth.

I02 JUNGLE FOLK

Considering its size, the swan has a very small brain ;
hence it is not overburdened with inteUigence. Mr.
H. E. Watson relates how one day when shooting in
Sind he came across five swans on a tank. " They let
the boat get pretty close," he writes, *' and I shot one.
The other four flew round the tank a few times and
then settled on it again. I went up in the boat and
fired again, but without effect. They flew round, and
then settled again. The third time I shot another ; the
three remaining again flew round and settled, and the
fourth time I fired I did not kill. Exactly the same
thing happened the fifth time ; the birds flew round
and round, and settled close to me, and I shot a third.
The remaining two flew a little distance, and settled,
but I thought it would be a pity to kill them ... so I
began to shoot ducks, and then the two remaining
swans flew by me, one on the right and one on the left,
so that I could easily have knocked them over with
small shot." What a pity swans are such rare visitors
to India ! What grand birds they m.ust be for an
indifferent shot. One swan on a small jhil would give
a really bad gunner a whole morning's shooting ; it
would circle round and round the sportsman at short
range, letting him blaze off to his heart's content until
it fell a victim to its trustfulness ! Try to imagine the
so-called stupid goose behaving in this manner.

The swan is a very silent bird in captivity, for this
reason it is called the mute swan. The only noise I
have ever heard it make is a hiss when it is angry. At
the breeding season it is said to trumpet sometimes.
The ancients believed that the swan, though mute

THE SWAN 103

throughout life, sings most sublimely at the approach
of death ; it then sings, not a funeral dirge, but a
jolly, rollicking song. This presented an excellent
opportunity for moralising. Mediaeval authors were
always on the look out for such opportunities. The
swan, wrote the author of the Speculum Mundi, '* is
a perfect emblem and pattern to us, that our death
ought to be cheerful, and life not so dear to us as it is."
This practice of singing before death has, like the crino-
line, quite gone out of fashion. The mute swan can
never have been so great a musician as some of his
brethren, since the French horn which he carries in his
breast-bone is not nearly so well developed as it is in
either the hooper or the black swan. Let me here
say, en passant, that both ancient and mediaeval writers
declined to believe in the existence of a black swan ;
they regarded it as " the very emblem and type of
extravagant impossibility." The phoenix, the dragon,
and the mermaid they could believe, but they felt that
they must really draw the line at a black swan.

A swan's nest is a bulky structure composed of
rushes, reeds, and other aquatic plants ; it is placed
on the ground near the water's edge. Six or seven
large greenish-white eggs are laid. The breeding season
is from March to May. Swans do not, of course, breed
in India. Indeed, it is only on rare occasions that
they visit that country, and then they do not venture
farther south than Sind.

XIX

KITES OF THE SEA

" Graceful seagulls, plumed in snowy white,
Follow'd the creaming furrow of the prow,
With easy pinion, pleasurably slow ;
Then on the waters floated like a fleet
Of tiny vessels, argosies complete,
Such as brave Gulliver, deep wading, drew
Victorious from the forts of Blefuscu."

OF all the methods of obtaining food to which
birds resort, none makes greater demands
on their physical powers than that which
we human beings term scavenging — the
seeking-out and devoming of the multifarious edible
objects left, unclaimed by the owners, on the face of the
land or the sea. No bird can eke out an existence by
scavenging unless it be endowed with wonderful power
of flight, the keenest eyesight, and limitless energy,
to say nothing of the abihty and the will to fight when
necessity arises. Thus it happens that it is to the
despised scavengers that we must direct our eyes
if we would behold the perfection of flight. The
vultures, the kites, and the gulls are verily the monarchs
of the atmosphere.

Bird scavengers are of two kinds — specialists and
general practitioners. The former confine themselves

104

KITES OF THE SEA 105

to one particular kind of food — the bodies of dead
animals. Of such are the vultures. In the pohty of
the feathered folk might is right, so that these great
birds enjoy the prerogative of picking and choosing
their food. The lesser fry have to be content with that
which the vultures do not require, with the crumbs
that fall from the vulturine table ; they are ready to
devour " anything that is going." All is grist that
comes to their mill.

The kites and gulls are the chieftains of the clan of
general scavengers. The sway of the former extends
over the land : the latter have dominion over the seas.
Kites cannot swim ; their operations are in conse-
quence necessarily confined to the land, and to water
in the neighbourhood of terra firma. Sea-gulls, on the
other hand, are as buoyant as corks, and have webbed
feet ; they are, further, no mean swimmers, and are
eminently adapted to a seafaring hfe. They are birds
of powerful flight, and almost as much at home on land
as at sea. They confine their attention mainly to the
sea, not because they are compelled by their structure
to do so, but because they encounter less opposition
there.

Among birds, similarity in feeding habits often
engenders similarity in appearance — a professional
hkeness grows up among those that pursue the same
calling. The Hkeness between swifts and swallows is
a remarkable instance of this. The separate sphere
of influence occupied by kites and gulls sufficiently
explains the dissimihtude of their plumage. In nearly
all other respects the birds closely resemble one another.

io6 JUNGLE FOLK

In habits, gulls are marine kites. Grandeur of flight
is the most marked attribute of each. They do not
cleave the air at great velocity, like swifts or " green
parrots." It is the effortlessness, the perfect ease with
which kites and sea-gulls perform their aerial move-
ments for hours at a time, rather than phenomenal
speed, that compels our admiration. A dozen gentle
flaps of the wings in a minute suffices to enable a gull
to keep pace with a fast steamship.
Cowper sang of —

" Kites that swim sublime
In the still repeated circles, screaming loud."

These words are equally appropriate to the kites of
the sea.

I have watched, until my eyes grew tired, kites
floating in circles in the thin atmosphere, with scarce
a movement of the pinions ; I have seen gulls keeping
pace with a steamer without as much as a quiver of
their wings. In each case the wind was the motive
power.

Both kites and gulls fly with downwardly directed
eyes. Their hfe is one long search for food. So keen
is their vision that no object seems minute enough to
escape their notice. The smallest piece of bread
thrown from a moving ship is immediately pounced
upon by the " wild sea-birds that follow through the
air," but no notice appears to be taken of a piece of
paper rolled up into a ball.

Gulls, like kites, are omnivorous. Some species
occasionally prey upon fish which they catch alive ; this
method of obtaining food is, however, the exception

KITES OF THE SEA 107

rather than. the rule among gulls. They are sea-birds
merely in the sense that they usually pick their food
off water. They are found only where there is refuse
to be picked up. In those parts of the ocean that are
not frequented by ships gulls are conspicuous by their
absence. They do not, as a rule, travel very far from
land ; when they do venture out to sea, it is invariably
in the wake of some great ship. Every ocean liner
sheds edible objects all along its course, and so attracts
numbers of gulls. These follow the ship for perhaps
two hundred miles, and then forsake it to return with
some homeward-bound vessel.

The seashore and the estuaries of tidal rivers are
the favourite hunting-grounds of the sea-gulls, the
flotsam of the rivers and the jetsam of the waves being
the attractions. Numbers of the graceful birds await
the return of the fishing smacks, in order to secure
the fish thrown away by the fishermen. The marine
kites are not always content to wait for rejected fish ;
not infrequently they boldly help themselves to some
of the shining contents of the nets, and sometimes
actually tear the meshes with their strong sharp bills.
In India there is always much fighting between the
gulls and the crows over the fish cast away by the
fishers. The antagonists are well matched. Similar
contests have been recorded in the British Isles. I
cull from The Evening Telegraph the following descrip-
tion of a fight between gulls and rooks over ground
covered with worms which had been killed by a salt-
water flood : " Thousands of gulls and rooks fought
each other with a determination and venom that could

io8 JUNGLE FOLK

not be appreciated unless witnessed. Feathers flew
in all directions ; the cawing and screaming were
almost deafening. It was a genuine fight. At first it
took place in mid-air, but soon the combatants came
to the ground, and then the struggle centred in and
around a fairly large hillock. Just as the gulls appeared
to be gaining the upper hand, the report of a gun broke
up the fight."

The diet of the kites of the sea is not confined to
small things. ** A son of the marshes " states that
he has seen them feeding with hooded crows on the
carcases of moorland sheep. In the British Isles gulls
frequently follow the plough and greedily seize the
worms and grubs turned up in the furrow. In London
and Dublin, and probably in other places, gulls have
taken up their residence in the parks, where they feed
largely on the bread thrown to the ornamental water-
fowl, seizing it in the air before it reaches the ducks.
So tame do these gulls become that they will almost
take bread from the hands of children. Many people
labour under the delusion that these gulls are domesti-
cated ones kept by the authorities along with the
ducks and swans.

Of late years a large colony of gulls has established
itself on the Thames opposite the Temple. These now
form one of the sights of London. The townsfolk take
so much interest in the graceful birds that some in-
dividuals earn a living by selling on the Embankment
small baskets of little fish which passers-by purchase
in order to throw to the screaming gulls that hover
around expectantly.

KITES OF THE SEA 109

Even as hunger frequently drives kites to commit
larceny in the farmyard, so does it sometimes turn
sea-gulls into birds of prey.

Mr. W. J. Williams gives an account, in The Irish
Naturalist, of a lesser black-headed gull that used to
frequent the lake in St. Stephen's Green Park. It
was wont to rest on the cornice of a house overlooking
the park, till an opportunity presented itself of swoop-
ing down and snatching a duckling. It became so
expert at this form of poaching that the Board of
Works had the marauder executed. Another gull
which attacked a duckling was in turn attacked by
the parents (a pair of Chilian wigeons) , with such success
that the exhausted gull was killed with a stick by one
of the Park constables.

In India gulls do not, I think, venture far inland.
The terns regard the inland waters of Hindustan as
their preserve. Some people eat gulls. The late
Lord Lilford declared that the black-headed species
is a good bird for the table. I am not prepared to
deny this assertion. I shall not put it to the test, for,
in my opinion, gulls should be a feast only for the eyes.

XX
RIVER TERNS

A SOJOURN of a few years in Upper India
usually teaches a European to make the
most of the cold weather as it gives place
to the heat of summer. There is a period
of a week or two in March and early April when,
although the days are very hot, the nights and early
mornings are cool, when the mercury in the ther-
mometer fluctuates between 104° and 68° F. If at this
season a man is energetic enough to rise at 5.15, shortly
after the birds awake, there are few more pleasant
ways of spending the ensuing three hours than by
taking what the French would term a promenade upon
the water. The ghding motion of a boat propelled
by sail or oar is always soothing, and is doubly so
when one knows that the breeze which then blows
cool upon the cheek will scorch the face seven hours
hence. The morning excursion on the water is ren-
dered especially enjoyable if it happens to take place
at one of the comparatively few parts of the Ganges
or the Jumna where the river-bed is narrow, so that the
water fills the space between the banks, instead of
being, as is more usually the case, a mere trickle of
water meandering through a great expanse of sand.

RIVER TERNS in

Under the former conditions it is good to sit in the
stern of a gliding boat and watch the birds that
frequent the river.

At sunrise the crow-pheasants (Centropus rufipennis)
come to the water's edge to drink, so that numbers
of the long-tailed, black birds with chestnut wings are
to be seen from the boat. Having slaked their thirst,
they hop up the steep bank with considerable dexterity,
to disappear into the stunted bushes that grow on the
top of the bank. Then there are, of course, the regular
habitues of the water's edge — the birds that frequent it
at all hours of the day — the ubiquitous paddy bird
(Ardeola grayii), which spends the greater part of its
life ankle-deep in water, waiting motionless for the
coming of its prey ; the common sandpiper [Totanus
hypoleucus), that solitary bird, as small as a starling,
which, on the approach of a human being, emits a
plaintive cry and flies away, displaying pointed wings
along the length of which runs a narrow white bar ; the
handsome spur- winged plover {Hoplopterus ventralis),
whose call is very like that of the did-he-do-it — but we
must not dwell on these littoral birds, for to-day I
would write of terns, the river birds par excellence.
None of God's creatures are more attractive than terns
to those who love beauty. That few, if any, of our
English poets have sung the praises of these beautiful
birds surely demonstrates how little attention poets
pay to nature, and how artificial are their writings.
This will, I fear, annoy the friends of the poets. I am
sorry, but I cannot help it. It is the fault of the bards
for having so grossly neglected the terns.

112 JUNGLE FOLK

In colouring, these superb birds show what endless
possibilities are open to the artist who confines himself
to black and white and their combinations.

There is in the flight of terns a poetry of motion over
which no one with an eye for the beautiful can fail to
wax enthusiastic. The popular name for terns — sea-
swallows — is a tribute to their wing power. They are
all designed upon a common plan. Length and shm-
ness characterise every part of their anatomy, save the
legs, which are very short. Terns rarely walk ; nearly
all their movements are aerial.

The terns that commonly frequent the rivers of
Upper India are of three species — the black-beUied tern
{Sterna melanogaster) , the Indian river tern (S. seena)
with its deeply forked tail, and the whiskered tern
(Hydrochelidon hyhrida), a study in pale grey. These,
when not resting on a sandbank, are dashing through
the air without effort, ever and anon dropping on to
the water to pick something from off the surface, or
plunging in after a fish. AlHed to the terns, and found
along with them, are the Indian skimmers {Rynchope
alhicollis), easily recognised by their larger size and
black wings.

The passing of a black crow causes some of the terns
to desist from their piscatorial occupation, in order to
mob the intruder. This means that there are terns'
eggs or young ones in the vicinit}^ Many species of
birds betray the presence of their nests by displaying
unusual pugnacity at the breeding season. To discover
the eggs or young of the terns is not a difficult matter.
It is only necessary to land upon the nearest island

RIVER TERNS 113

between which and the river bank there is a sufficient
depth of water to prevent jackals fording it. If the
island contain eggs or young ones, the parent birds
will make a hostile demonstration by collecting over-
head and flying backwards and forwards, uttering
their harsh cries, and the nearer one approaches the
nest the more clamorous do they become. In this
manner they unwittingly inform the nest-seeker
whether he is getting " hot " or " cold," to use the
expressions employed in a nursery game.

The terns which breed on islets in Indian rivers
do not appear to do much incubating in the daytime.
There is no need for them to do so, because the sand
grows very warm under the rays of the sun. Moreover,
the only foes to be feared are the crows and the kites,
which the terns can keep at bay more effectually when
on the wing than while sitting on the eggs. Very different
is the behaviour of the sea terns, whose eggs are liable
to attack by gulls and crabs. For safety's sake the sea
terns lay in large colonies, and, to use Colonel Butler's
expression, sit on their eggs ** packed together as close
as possible without, perhaps, actually touching one
another." He once came upon the nests of a colony
of large-crested terns {Sterna hergii). The sitting birds
did not leave their eggs until he was within a few yards
of them. Having put them up, he retired to a little
distance. " No sooner had I done so," he writes, " than
both species [i.e. the gulls and terns] began to descend
in dozens to the spot where the eggs were lying. In a
moment a general fight commenced, and it was at once
evident that the eggs belonged to Sterna hergii, and that

114 JUNGLE FOLK

the gulls were carr^dng them off and swallowing their
contents as fast as they could devour them." River
terns do not construct any nest. They deposit their
eggs on the bare, dry sand. The eggs have a stone-
coloured ground, sometimes suffused \\ith pink,
blotched with dark patches, those at the surface of the
shell ha\'ing a sepia hue, and those deeper down
appearing dark grejish mauve. The eggs, although not
conspicuous, may, without difficult}^ be detected w^hen
l}ing on the sand. Their colouring would seem to
be adapted to match a stom', rather than a sandy
en\ironment, but the fact that the colouring of the
eggs is but imperfectly protective does not much matter
when the latter he on a sand island, to which but few
predaceous creatures have access ; the watchfulness of
the parent birds more than compensates for the com-
parative conspicuousness of the eggs.

Young terns, hke most other birds, are bom helpless,
and are then covered with a greyish down ; but before
the tail feathers have broken through their sheaths,
and while the wing feathers are quite rudimentary^
the temlets learn to run about and swim upon the
water. At this stage the httle terns look hke ducklings
when on the water, and, as they run along the w^ater's
edge, may easily be mistaken, at a httle distance, for
sandpipers.

When a young tern is surprised by some enemy, his
natural instinct is to crouch down, half buried in the
sand, and to remain there quite motionless until the
danger has passed. The colouring of his down is such
as to cause him to assimilate more closely to the sandy

RIVER TERNS 115

environment than the eggs do. If one picks up such
a crouching temlet, the bird will probably not struggle
at all ; it may, perhaps, peck at one's fingers, but in
nine cases out of ten will remain limp and motionless
in the hand, looking as though it were dead, and if it
be set upon the ground it falls all of a heap, and
remains motionless in the position it assumed when
dropped. If you take a young tern in your hand and
lay it upon its back on the sand it makes no attempt
to right itself, but remains motionless in that attitude,
looking for all the world like a trussed chicken ; but
if you turn your back upon it, it will take to its little
legs and run, with considerable speed, to the water,
to which it takes just as a duck does, its feet being
webbed at all stages of its existence.

XXI
GREEN BULBULS

SINCE green is a splendid protective colour for
an arboreal creature, it is surprising that there
are not more green animals in existence. The
truth of the matter is that green seems to be
a difficult colour to acquire. There does not exist a
really green mammal ; while green birds are Relatively
few and far between. In India we have, it is true, the
green parrots, the barbets, the green pigeons, the green
bulbuls, and the bee-eaters. Take away these and
you can count the remaining green birds on the fingers
of your hands. Curiously enough, the bee-eaters spend
very little time in trees ; consequently the beautiful
leaf -green livery seems rather wasted on them. And
of the other green birds we may almost say that they
are precisely those that seem least in need of this
form of protection. The parrakeets and barbets, thanks
to their powerful beaks, are well adapted to fighting,
while more pugnacious birds than bulbuls and pigeons
do not exist. I think, therefore, that the green liveries
of these birds are not the result of their necessity for
protection from raptorial foes. This livery is a luxury
rather than a necessity.

ii6

GREEN BULBULS 117

Anatomically speaking, green bulbuls are not bulbuls
at all. Jerdon called them bulbuls because of their
bulbul-Uke habits, although, as " Eha " points out,
they take more after the orioles. Gates tells us that
these beautiful birds are glorified babblers, rich rela-
tions of the disreputable-looking seven sisters. He
gives them the name Chloropsis.

Seven species of green bulbul are found in India ;
they thus furnish an excellent example of a bird
dividing up into a number of local races. When the
various portions of a species become separated from
one another this phenomenon often occurs. The
common grey parrot of Africa is, according to Sir
Harry Johnston, even now splitting up into a number
of local races. That interesting bird is presenting us
with an example of evolution while you wait. It is
quite Hkely that the process may continue until several
distinct species are formed. We must bear in mind that
there is no essential difference between a species and a
race. When the differences between two birds are
slight we speak of the latter as forming two races ;
when the divergence becomes more marked we call
them species. Very often systematists are divided as
to whether two alhed forms are separate species or
mere races. In such cases some peacemakers split
the difference and call them sub-species.

Green bulbuls are essentially arboreal birds. In the
olden time when India was densely wooded I believe
that there was but one species of Chloropsis, even as
there is but one species of house-crow in India proper.
Then, as the land began to be denuded of forest in parts.

ii8 JUNGLE FOLK

these green bulbuls became a number of isolated com-
munities, with the result that they eventually evolved
into several species. In this connection I may mention
that the grey on the neck of Corvus splendens is much
more marked in birds from the Punjab than in those
that worry the inhabitants of Madras.

Of the green bulbuls only two species occur in South
India — the Malabar Chloropsis (C. malaharica) and
Jerdon's Chloropsis (C. Jerdoni). The former, as its
name tells us, is found in Malabar. The green bulbul
of the other parts of South India is Jerdon's form.
This handsome bird does not occur in or about the
City of Madras ; at least I have never seen it in the
neighbourhood, nor indeed nearer than Yercaud.
However, not improbably it occurs between the
Shevaroys and the east coast. If anyone who reads
these lines has seen this bird in that area, I hope that he
or she will be kind enough to let me know. Here let me
say that to identify a green bulbul is as easy as falling
out of a tree. He is of the same size as the common
bulbul. His prevailing hue is a rich bright grass-
green — the green of grass at its best. His chin
and throat are black, and he has a hyacinth-blue
moustache, so that he deserves his Telugu name — the
" Ornament of the Forest." His wife is pale green
where he is black and her moustache is of a paler blue.
The Malabar species is easily distinguished by its
bright orange forehead. Green bulbuls go about, some-
times in small flocks, more frequently in pairs. They
rarely, if ever, descend to the ground, but flit about
amid the foliage, to which they assimilate so closely,

GREEN BULBULS 119

seeking for the insects, fruit, and seed on which they
feed. Like many other gaily attired birds, they give
the He to the oft-repeated assertion that it is only the
dull-hued birds that are good songsters. Green bulbuls
are veritable gramophones, '* flagrant plagiarists "
Mr. W. H. Hudson would call them. Not only have
they a number of pretty notes of their own, but the
feathered creature whose song they cannot imitate
remains yet to be discovered. Green bulbuls might
be called Indian mocking-birds were there not so many
other birds in the country that imitate the calls of their
fellows. Some ornithologist with a good ear for music
should draw up a list of all our Indian birds that mock
the calls of others, setting against each the names of
these whose sounds they imitate.

Green bulbuls are hardy birds and thrive well in
captivity. I saw recently a specimen in splendid con-
dition at a bird show in London. " There is one draw-
back, however," writes Finn in his Garden and Aviary
Birds of India, " to this lovely bird (from a fancier's
point of view), and that is its very savage temper in
some cases. In the wild state Mr. E. C. Stuart Baker
has seen two of these birds fight to death, and another
couple defy law and order by hustling a king-crow, of
all birds. And in confinement it is difficult to get two
to live together ; while some specimens are perfectly
impossible companions for other small birds, savagely
driving them about and not allowing them to feed.
Many individuals, however, are quite peaceable with
other birds, and a true pair will live together in har-
mony."

120 JUNGLE FOLK

There is nothing remarkable in the nest of the
Chloropsis ; it is a shallow cup, devoid of lining, placed
fairly high up in a tree. July and August are the
months in which to look for nests. Two eggs usually
form the complete clutch. It would thus seem that
green bulbuls have not a great many enemies to fear.
Nevertheless they fuss as much over their eggs as
some elderly ladies of my acquaintance do over their
baggage when travelUng. Birds and people who worry
themselves unduly over their belongings seem to lose
these more often than do those folk who behave more
philosophically. Take the case of the common bulbuls.
These certainly lose more broods than they succeed in
rearing, yet the ado they make when a harmless crea-
ture approaches their nest puts one forcibly in mind
of the behaviour of the captain of a Russian gunboat
when an innocent vessel happens to enter the zone of
sea in the centre of which the Czar's yacht floats.

XXII
CORMORANTS

CORMORANTS, like Englishmen, have
spread themselves all over the earth.
Save for a few out-of-the-way islands,
there is no country in the world that
cannot boast of at least one species of cormorant.
Cormorants, then, are an exceedingly successful and
flourishing family. It must be very annoying for
those worthy professors and museum naturalists who
are always lecturing to us about the all-importance
of protective colouration that the most flourishing
families of birds — the crows and the cormorants — are
as conspicuous as it is possible for a thing in feathers
to be.

Mr. Seton Thompson well says that every animal has
some strong point, or it could not exist ; and some
weak point, or the other animals could not exist.
Cormorants have several strong points, and that is
why they flourish hke the green bay tree, notwith-
standing their conspicuous plumage. They are as
hardy as the Scotchman, as voracious as the ostrich, as
tenacious of Hfe as a cat, to say nothing of being pis-
catorial experts, powerful fliers, and champion divers.

122 JUNGLE FOLK

The cormorant family furnishes a very good example
of the manner in which new species arise quite inde-
pendently of natural selection. Notwithstanding their
world-wide distribution, all cormorants belong to one
genus, which is divided up into thirty-seven species.
Of these no fewer than fifteen occur in New Zealand —
a country not characterised by a large avifauna.

One species — the large cormorant (Phalacocorax
carbo) — flourishes in almost every imaginable kind
of climate and among all sorts and conditions of
birds and beasts. Yet in New Zealand, in a country
where the conditions of existence vary but little,
cormorants have split up into fifteen species. It
is therefore as clear as anything can be in nature
that we must look to some cause other than natural
selection for an explanation of the multiplicity of
species of cormorant in New Zealand. It seems to
me that the solution of this puzzle lies in the fact that
the conditions of life are comparatively easy in New
Zealand. Consequently a well-equipped bird like a
cormorant is allowed a certain amount of latitude as to
its form and colouring. In places where the struggle
for existence is very severe, where organisms have their
work cut out to maintain themselves, the chances are
that every unfavourable variation will be wiped out by
natural selection ; but if the struggle is not particu-
larly severe, or if a species has something in hand, it
can afford to dispense with part of its advantage and
still survive. Thus it is that in New Zealand we see
a number of different species of cormorant living side
by side. De Vries likens natural selection to a sieve

CORMORANTS 123

through which all organisms are sifted, and through
the meshes of which only those of a certain description
are able to pass. Bateson compares it to a public
examination to which every organism must submit
itself. Those animals that fail to get through are killed.
The standard of the examination may vary in various
parts of the world.

So much for cormorants in general and the puzzle
they present to evolutionists. Let us now consider for
a little while our Indian cormorants. For once India
is at a disadvantage as compared with New Zealand.
There are but three species found in this country — the
great, the lesser, and the little cormorant. The last —
Phalacocorax javanicus — is the most commonly seen
of them all. It is to be found in the various backwaters
round about Madras, being especially abundant in the
vicinity of Pulicat. At the place where the canal runs
into the lake there are a number of stakes driven into
the canal bed ; these project above the level of the
water, and on every one of them a little cormorant is
to be seen. Cormorants in such a position always put
me in mind of the pillar saints of ancient times. Al-
though very active in the water, cormorants become
statuesque in their stillness when they leave it.

The lesser cormorant (Phalacocorax fuscicollis) breeds
in nests in the trees on the islets which stud the Red-
hills Tank near Madras, also on the tank at Vaden
Tangal, near Chingleput. The third species of cor-
morant found in India is the great cormorant {Phala-
cocorax carho). This is the one which is world-wide in
its distribution. It is a large bird, being over 2 ft. 6 in.

124 JUNGLE FOLK

in length. It is said to be capable of swallowing at
one gulp a fish fourteen inches long. It is less gre-
garious in its habits than the other cormorants, but it
breeds and roosts in colonies. Captain H. Terry states
that this species' nests are to be met with on a tank
near Bellary. The great cormorant possesses fourteen
tail feathers, while all other cormorants have to put
up with twelve. Why the big fellow should be the
happy possessor of two extra caudal feathers is a
puzzle which no one has attempted to solve.

It is not very easy to distinguish the three species of
cormorant from one another. The great cormorant
has a conspicuous white bar on each side of the head.
This and his larger size serve to separate him from the
two smaller forms. It is usually possible to distinguish
the other two by the fact that the little cormorant has
more white on the throat than his somewhat larger
cousin. But, when all is said and done, it is not of
great importance to distinguish the various species.
All cormorants have almost exactly the same habits.
The nests are all mere platforms of sticks. They are
all expert fishermen, and seem equally at home on
fresh or salt water. They can swim either on or under
water and move at a considerable pace, covering
nearly 150 yards in a minute. The young are said to
feed themselves by inserting their heads into the
gullet of the parent and pulling out the half-digested
fish. Cormorants are readily tamed and are employed
in China to fish for their masters, a rubber ring being
inserted round the lower part of the neck in order to
prevent the fish from going too far. In bygone days.

CORMORANTS 125

fishing by means of cormorants was considered good
sport, and the royal household used to have its
Master of the Cormorants.

Cormorants' eggs are of a very pale green colour, and
their nests smell of bad fish, for the owners care nothing
about sanitation. Young cormorants are not nearly
so black as their parents, and do not attain adult
plumage till they are four years old.

XXIII
A MELODIOUS DRONGO

OUR friend the king crow (Dicrurus ater) is
so abundant throughout India, and pos-
sesses to so great a degree the faculty of
arresting the attention, that we are apt
to overlook his less numerous relatives. In Ceylon it
is otherwise. Dicrurus ater occurs in that fair isle,
but only in certain parts thereof, and is not so abundant
as his cousin, the white- vented drongo {Dicrurus leuco-
pygialis). The former has, therefore, to play second
fiddle in Ceylon, where he is usually known to Euro-
peans as the black fly-catcher. The white-vented
drongo is their king crow — the bird that lords over the
corvi.

The drongos constitute a well-defined family. When
you know one member you can scarcely fail to recognise
the others. They fall into two great classes, the fancy
and the plain, the dandies and those that dress quietly.
The bhimraj, or larger racket-tailed drongo (Dissemurus
paradiseus), is the most perfect example of the fancy
or ornamental class. His head is set off by a crest,
but his speciality is the pair of outer tail feathers,
which attain a length of nearly two feet.

126

A MELODIOUS DRONGO 127

Of the less ornamental drongos, the king crow is
the best-known example. This bird is found in all
parts of India, and occurs in Ceylon. Almost as widely
distributed, but far less abundant, is the white-bellied
drongo. This species may be met with in all parts of
India save the Punjab. In the Western Province
of Ceylon it is replaced by a drongo having less white
in the plumage.

It is a moot question whether this last is to be looked
upon as a race or a distinct species. Legge writes :
" No bird in Ceylon is so puzzling as the present,
and there is none to which I have given so much
attention with a view to arriving at a satisfactory
determination as to whether there are two species in
the island or only one. I cannot come to any other con-
clusion than that there is but one, the opposing types of
which are certainly somewhat distinct from one another,
but which grade into each other in such a manner
as to forbid their being rightly considered as distinct
species ; and I will leave it to others, who Hke to take
the matter up for investigation, to prove whether my
conclusions are erroneous or not." Oates has since
constituted the birds which have less white on the
lower parts a distinct species, which he calls the white-
vented drongo (Dicrurus leucopygialis). He admits
that the amount of white on this form and on the white-
belHed species {Dicrurus ccerulescens) is variable, and
that a bird is occasionally met with which might, as
regards this character, be assigned indifferently to
one or the other species, but, says he, the colour of
the throat and breast will, in these cases, be a safe

128 JUNGLE FOLK

guide in identification. The parts in question are grey
in the white-belHed species and dark brown in the
white- vented form. It seems to me that a sHght differ-
ence in the colouring of the feathers of the throat is not
a very safe foundation on which to estabhsh a new
species. However, this piece of species-sphtting need
not worry the Anglo-Indian, for the white-vented form
is found only in Ceylon. All drongos with white under-
parts that occur in India are Dicrurus ccsrulescens.
This bird is not common in Madras ; I observed it but
twice during eighteen months' residence in that city.
It is in shape exactly like the common king crow, and
possesses the characteristic forked tail, but it is a
smaller bird, being nine and a half inches in length,
and therefore shorter by fully three inches than the
black drongo. Its upper plumage is deep indigo ; the
throat and breast are grey ; all the remainder of the
lower plumage is white. Its habits are very much hke
those of the king crow, but it is less addicted to the
open country, seeming to prefer well-wooded localities.
I have never seen the Dhouli, or white-belhed drongo,
perched on anything but a branch of a tree. It almost
always catches its insect prey upon the wing, after
the manner of a fly-catcher. Jerdon, however, states
that he once saw it descend to the ground for an insect.
As a singer it is far superior to the king crow. In
addition to the harsh notes of that species it produces
many melodious sounds. Tickell describes its song as
" a wild, mellow whistle pleasingly modulated." It
was the voice of the bird that first attracted my notice.
Some eight years ago, when camping in the Fyzabad

A MELODIOUS DRONGO 129

District, I heard a very pleasing but unknown song.
Tracking this to the mango tope whence it issued, I
discovered that the author was a white-belHed king
crow. Last winter a member of this species favoured
me with a fine histrionic performance. I was sitting
outside my tent one afternoon, when I heard above me
a harsh note that was not quite hke that of the king
crow. Looking up, I observed, perched on a bare
branch at the summit of the tree, a white-bellied
drongo. Then, as if for my especial benefit, he began
to imitate the call of the shikra ; he followed this up
by a very fair reproduction of some of the cries of a
tree-pie. Having accomphshed this, he made, first his
bow, then his exit. I was much interested in the per-
formance, since an aUied species, the bhimraj, is not
only one of the best songsters in the East, but a mimic
second only to the wonderful mocking-bird of South
America.

The white-belHed drongo is so rare in the peninsula
of India that not one of our ornithologists has given
us anything like a full account of its habits, and no one
appears to have discovered the nest in India. Fortu-
nately, it is very common in Ceylon, so that Legge has
been able to give some interesting details regarding its
habits. We must bear in mind that Legge includes
both the white-belhed varieties under one species.
If we divide them into two, the question arises to which
do his various observations apply ? The reply is to
either or both, for Legge was not able to detect any
differences between them, except that perhaps the
white- vented variety has a more powerful voice. He

I30 JUNGLE FOLK

writes : *' It is occasionally, when there is abundance of
food about, a sociable species, as many as three or four
collecting on one tree, and carrying on a vigorous
warfare against the surrounding insect world." Like
the king crow, it is an early riser and a late rooster.
It is a great chaser of crows, and of any creature that
dares to intrude into the tree in which its nest is placed.
Needless to say that it detests owls. Says Legge :
" The white-bellied king crow never fails to collect all
the small birds in the vicinity whenever it discovers
one of these nocturnal offenders, chasing it through
the wood until it escapes into some thicket which
baffles the pursuit of its persecutors." But why does
he call owls " nocturnal offenders " ? Wherein lies
their offence ? So far as I can see, the only crime that
owls commit is in being owls. The creatures they prey
upon have reason for dishking them. But owls do not
attack ornithologists. Why, then, should these gentry
call them hard names ?

The nesting habits of both the white-belhed and
the white-vented drongos are very similar to those
of the common king crow. Legge describes the
nest as a shallow cup, almost invariably built at
the horizontal fork of the branch of a large tree
at a considerable height from the ground, some-
times as much as forty feet. The eggs seem to vary as
greatly in appearance as do those of the common king
crow.

Since the white-bellied drongo appears to be quite as
pugnacious as its black cousin, and to have almost
identical habits, it is strange that it should be so

A MELODIOUS DRONGO 131

uncommon in India. As we have seen, its distribution
is wide, so that it seems able to adapt itself to various
kinds of climate. Nevertheless, it is common nowhere
in India. What is the cause that keeps down its
numbers ? NaturaHsts are wont to talk airily about
natural selection causing a species to be numerous or
the reverse, but imless they can show precisely how
natural selection acts they explain nothing. Those
who write books on natural history convey the im-
pression that it is the birds and beasts of prey that keep
down the numbers of the smaller fry. As a matter of
fact, predaceous creatures seem to exercise but little
influence on the numbers of their quarry. There are
hidden causes at work of which we know almost noth-
ing. Damp and small parasites are probably far more
powerful checks on multiplication than predaceous
creatures. It would seem that there is something in
the constitution of the white-bellied drongo which
enables it to outnumber the king crows proper in
Ceylon, but which prevents it from becoming abundant
in the peninsula of India. What this something is we
have yet to discover. We really know very little of the
nature of that mysterious force with which naturalists
love to conjure, and which Darsvin named Natural
Selection. We write it with a capital N and a capital S,
and then imagine that w^e have explained everything.

" Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Now we all know what you are."

XXIV
THE INDIAN PITTA

SOME Indian birds are adepts at self-advertise-
ment. To use an expressive vulgarism, they
continually " hit you in the eye " ; they ob-
trude themselves upon you in season and out
of season. Others are so retiring that you may live
among them for years without observing them. To this
class, to the class that hide their light under a bushel,
the beautiful Indian pitta [Pitta brachyura) belongs.
There is at least one favoured compound in Madras
where a pitta, or possibly a pair of them, spends the
cool- weather season. Pittas proclaim their presence
by uttering at dawn their cheery notes, which have
been described as an attempt to whistle, in a moderately
high key, the words *' quite clear." If, on hearing this
call, you are sufficiently energetic to go out of doors,
you will probably see on the ground a bluish bird,
about the size of a quail, but before you have had time
to examine it properly it will have taken to its wings
and disappeared into the hedge. Those who are not
so fortunate as to have pittas on the premises may be
tolerably certain of seeing a specimen by visiting the
well-wooded plot of land bordered on the west by the
canal and on the south by the Adyar River.

132

THE INDIAN PITTA 133

This bird is about seven inches in length. Thus it
does not measure much more than a sparrow, but it
is nevertheless considerably larger, for the tail is very
short, being barely one inch and a half in length.
The crown is yellow, tinged with orange, and divided
in the middle by a broad black band running from the
beak to the nape of the neck, where it meets a broader
black band that passes below the eye. The eyebrow
is white. The back and shoulders are dull bluish green.
The upper tail-coverts are pale blue. There is also a
patch of this colour on the wing. The wings and tail
are black, tipped with blue. During flight the pinions
display a white bar. The chin and throat are white.
The breast is of the same yellow hue as the head.
There is a large crimson patch under the tail. Captain
Fayrer's photograph in Bombay Ducks conveys very
well the shape of the bird, but, of course, does not
reproduce the most marked feature of the pitta — its
colouring. Indians in some localities call it the naurang
— the nine-colours. The bird may truly be said to be
arrayed in a coat of many colours. Unfortunately,
such a garment is apt to lead to trouble. Even as the
coat of many colours brought tribulation upon Joseph
of old, so does the much-coveted, multi-hued plumage
of the pitta frequently bring death to its possessor.

Apart from the colouring, it is impossible to confound
the pitta with any other bird. Its long legs and its
apology for a tail recall the sandpiper, but there is
nothing else snippet-like about it. The classification
of the bird has puzzled many a wise head. It has been
variously called the Madras jay, the Bengal quail,

134 JUNGLE FOLK

the short-tailed p3^e, the ant-thrush, the painted thrush,
and the ground thrush. But it is not a jay, neither is it
a quail, nor a thrush, nor a tailless pye. It is a bird
made on a special model. It belongs to a peculiar
family, to a branch of the great order of perching birds,
which differs from all the other clans in some im-
portant anatomical details. Into these we will not go,
for they belong to morphology, the science which
concerns itself chiefly with the dry bones of zoology,
with the lifeless aspect of the science of life.

The Indian pitta is a bird which likes warmth, but
not heat, so that it refuses to live in the Punjab, where
the climate is one of extremes — a spell of cold, then a
headlong rush into a period of intense heat, followed
by an equally sudden return to a low temperature. The
pitta seems to occur in all parts of Eastern, Central,
and Southern India, undergoing local migration to the
south in the autumn and back again in the spring. In
places where the climate is never very hot or very
cold, as, for example, Madras and the hills in Ceylon,
some individuals seem to remain throughout the year.
I have seen pittas in Madras at all seasons, and I know
of no better testimonial to the excellence of the climate
of that city. Jerdon writes of the pitta : "In the
Carnatic it chiefly occurs in the beginning of the hot
weather, when the land-winds first begin to blow with
violence from the west ; and the birds in many
instances appear to have been blown, by the strong
wind, from the Eastern Ghauts, for, being birds of
feeble flight, they are unable to contend against the
strength of the wind. At this time they take refuge in

THE INDIAN PITTA 135

huts, outhouses, or any building that will afford them
shelter. The first bird of this kind that I saw had
taken refuge in the General Hospital at Madras ; and
subsequently, at Nellore, I obtained many alive under
the same circumstances." Other observers have had
similar experiences. Bligh, for instance, states that in
Ceylon pittas are frequently caught in bungalows on
coffee estates on cold and stormy days.

It is strange that so retiring a bird as the pitta should
find its way with such frequency into inhabited houses.
Jerdon's explanation is its " feeble flight," but I doubt
whether he is correct in calling the pitta a bird of weak
flight ; it can travel very fast, for short distances at
any rate. It seems to me that the pitta dislikes cold
and wind, and therefore naturally seeks any shelter
that presents itself. Not being a garden bird, it is
unaware that the bungalow, which offers such tempting
cover, is the abode of human beings. Possibly another
reason why the pitta so frequently enters bungalows
is to avoid the crows. Dr. Henderson tells me that he
was playing tennis some years ago at a friend's house
in Madras when he saw a bird being chased by a mob
of crows. The fugitive took refuge in the drawing-
room of the house, where Dr. Henderson caught it, and
found that it was an uninjured but very much fright-
ened pitta. Mr. D. G. Hatchell informs me that he
once picked up in his verandah a dead pitta that had
probably been killed by crows. The corvi are out-
and-out Tories. They strongly resent all innovation
qua innovation. Any addition to the local fauna is
exceedingly distasteful to them. They object to the

136 JUNGLE FOLK

foreigner quite as strongly as do (perhaps I should say
" did ") the Chinese. It is for this reason that they
mob every strange bird that shows its face. Now,
they seldom come across either the creatures of the
night or the denizens of the thick undergrowth ;
consequently, when such venture forth into the light
of day the crows forthwith attack them.

The pitta feeds chiefly on beetles, termites, ants,
and other creeping things, which it seeks out among
fallen leaves, after the manner of the " seven sisters."
The pitta is quick on its feet, and is able to hop and
run with equal ease. It thrives in captivity. It is an
excellent pet, provided it be not kept with smaller
birds. It regards these as so much fresh meat especially
provided for it.

The nest of the pitta is described as a globular
structure fully nine inches in horizontal diameter
and six inches high, with a circular aperture on
one side. Twigs, roots, and dried leaves are the
building materials utilised. The eggs are exceedingly
beautiful. " The ground colour," writes Hume, " is
China w^hite, sometimes faintly tinged with pink,
sometimes creamy ; and the eggs are speckled and
spotted with deep maroon, dark purple, and brownish
purple as primary markings, and pale inky purple as
secondary ones. Occasionally, instead of spots, the
markings take the form of fine hair-hke lines."

XXV

THE INDIAN WHITE-EYE

THE Indian white-eye [Zosterops palpebrosa)
is a bird which should be familiar to every-
one who has visited the Nilgiris. To
wander far in a hillside wood without
meeting a flock of these diminutive creatures is im-
possible. Sooner or later a number of monosyllabic
notes will be heard, each a faint, plaintive cheep. On
going to the tree from which these notes appear to
emanate a rustle will be observed here and there in the
foliage. Closer inspection will reveal a number of tiny
birds flitting about among the leaves. These are white-
eyes — the most sociable of birds. Except when nesting,
they invariably go about in companies of not less than
twenty or thirty. Each individual is as restless as a
wren, so that some patience must be exercised by the
observer if he wish to obtain a good view of any mem-
ber of the flock. But by standing perfectly motionless
for a time under the tree in which the birds are feeding
he who is watching will, ere long, be able to make out
that the white-eye is a tiny creature, not much more
than half the size of a sparrow. The upper parts are
yellowish green, the chin, throat, and feathers under

137

138 JUNGLE FOLK

the tail are bright yellow, and the remainder of the
lower surface of whitish hue. The most marked feature
of the Zosterops is a conspicuous ring of white feathers
round the eye, which causes the bird to look as though
it were wearing white spectacles. From this circle
the species derives its popular names, the white-eye
or spectacle bird. Thanks to the conspicuous eye-ring,
it is impossible to mistake the bird.

All feathered creatures that go about in flocks and
haunt thick foliage emit unceasingly a call note, by
means of which the members of the flock keep in
touch with one another. This ceaseless cheeping note
is probably uttered unconsciously. Each individual
listens, without knowing that it is doing so, for the
calls of its fellows ; so long as it hears these it is
happy. When the main volume of the sound grows
faint the individual white-eye knows that his com-
panions are moving away from him ; he accordingly
flies in the direction from which their calls are coming,
giving vent, as he goes, to a louder cheep than usual.
Whenever a white-eye flies from one tree to another it
utters this more powerful call and thereby informs its
fellows that it is moving forward. This louder cry
stimulates the others to follow the bird that has taken
the lead. All the time they are thus flitting about the
white-eyes are busy picking tiny insects off the leaves.
I have never observed them eating anything but insects.
Legge, however, asserts that their diet is for the most
part frugivorous, in consequence of which the birds
are, according to him, very destructive to gardens,
picking off the buds of fruit trees, as well as attacking

THE INDIAN WHITE-EYE I39

the fruit itself. He further declares that he has
known caged individuals in England feed with avidity
on dried figs. Hutton also states that white-eyes
feed greedily upon the small black berries of a species
of Rhamnus, common in the Himalayas. Notwith-
standing the authorities cited, it is my beUef that these
little birds are almost exclusively insectivorous. They
perform a useful work in devouring numbers of ob-
noxious insects, which they extract from flowers. In
so doing their heads sometimes become powdered
with pollen, so that the white-eyes probably, like bees
and moths, render service to plants by carrying pollen
from one flower to another.

The search for food does not occupy the whole day.
Except at the nesting season, the work of birds is hght.
In the early morning the white-eyes feed industriously ;
so that by noon they have satisfied their hunger. They
then flit and hop and fly about purely for pleasure.
White-eyes, hke all small birds, literally bubble over
with energy. They are as restless as children. Once
when walking through the Lawrence Gardens at
Lahore in the days when they had not yet fallen into
the clutches of that enemy of beautiful scenery, the
landscape gardener, I came across a company of these
charming httle birds disporting themselves amid some
low bushes near a plantation of loquat trees. First
one little bird, then another, then a third, a fourth, a
fifth, etc., dropped to the ground, only to return at once
to the bush whence they came. A whole flock ap-
peared to be taking part in this pastime. There were
two continuous streams, one of descending and the

140 JUNGLE FOLK

other of ascending white-eyes. These might have
been Httle fluffy, golden balls with which some unseen
person was playing.

When the heat of the day is at its zenith, white-eyes,
like most birds in India, enjoy a siesta. At this hour
Uttle gatherings of them may be seen, each bird huddled
against its neighbours on some bough of a leafy tree.

At the nesting season the white-eye sings most
sweetly. The ordinary cheeping note then becomes
glorified into something resembling the lay of the
canary ; less powerful, but equally pleasing to the ear.

The nest of the white-eye is a neat little cup, or,
as Mr. A. Anderson' describes it, a hollow hemisphere.
It is a miniature of the oriole's nursery. It is large
for the size of the bird, being usually over two inches
in diameter. Some nests are fully two inches deep,
while others are quite shallow. It is composed of fine
fibres (i.e. grass stems, slender roots, moss, and seed
down) and cotton, bound together by cobweb, which
is the cement most commonly used by bird masons.
The nursery is invariably provided with a hning.
In one nest that I found, this lining consisted of human
hair. Other hning materials are silky down, hair-hke
moss and fern-roots, and grass fibres so fine that the
horsehairs which are sometimes utihsed look quite
coarse beside them. The most wonderful thing about
the nest of this pretty httle bird is the manner in which
it is attached to its supports. I have called it a minia-
ture of the oriole's nursery, because it is usually sus-
pended from two or more branches by cotton fibres.
I once came upon a nest which was attached to but

THE INDIAN WHITE-EYE 141

one slender branch, and to the tip of this. The end
was worked into the structure of the nest so that the
whole looked like a ladle with a very thin handle. It
seemed incredible that so slight a branch could support
the nest and its contents.

I have not been fortunate enough to watch the
white-eye building its nest. Mr. A. Anderson states
that the pair — for both the cock and the hen take
part in nest construction — " set to work with cobwebs,
and having first tied together two or three leafy twigs
to which they intend to attach their nest, they then use
the fine fibre of the sunn (Crotalaria juncea), with which
material they complete the outer fabric of their very
beautiful and compact nest. As the work progresses,
more cobwebs and fibre of a silky kind are applied
externally, and at times the nest, when tossed about
by the wind (sometimes at a considerable elevation),
would be mistaken by a casual observer for an acci-
dental collection of cobwebs. The inside of the nest
is well felted with the down of the madar plant, and
then it is finally lined with fine hair and grass stems
of the softest kind." The nest is usually situated
within three or four feet of the ground, but is sometimes
placed at much higher elevations.

In South India, the time to look for white-eyes'
nests is from January to March. In the north, the
majority of nests are found between April and June.

The eggs are a beautiful pale blue. Most commonly
only two seem to be laid. There are, however, many
cases on record of three and a few of four eggs. This
is an unusually small clutch. Nevertheless it is un-

142 JUNGLE FOLK

likely that a pair of white-eyes bring up more than
two broods in the year. These facts, when taken in
conjunction with the wide distribution of the species,
indicate that the white-eye meets with exceptional
success in rearing its young. The nest is usually well
concealed in the depths of a leafy bush. Squirrels and
lizards must find the suspended nursery difficult of
access. In addition to this we must bear in mind that
white-eyes are plucky little creatures. Mr. Ball
describes how he saw one of them attacking a rose-
finch, a vastly more powerful bird, and drive it away
from the flowers of the mohwa, which form a favourite
hunting-ground of the white-eye.

As I have repeatedly stated, pugnacity is a more
valuable asset than protective colouration in the
struggle for existence.

Lastly, the white-eye appears able to thrive under
greatly varying conditions of climate.

These advantages possessed by white-eyes, I think,
explain why the clutch of eggs is so small.

White-eyes make excellent pets. They will live
amicably along with amadavats in a cage. Finn is my
authority for saying that soft fruit, bread and milk,
and small insects are all the food required by white-eyes,
and they are so easy to keep that many specimens are
sent to Europe.

XXVI
GOOSEY, GOOSEY GANDER

THE goose, like certain ladies who let lodg-
ings, has seen better times. It is a bird
that has come down in the world. For
some reason which I have never been able
to discover, it is nowadays the object of popular ridi-
cule. It is commonly set forth as the emblem of
foolishness. Invidious comparisons are proverbially
drawn between it and its more handsome cousin, the
swan. The modern bards vie with one another in
blackening its character. As Phil Robinson says,
" It does not matter who the poet is — he may be any-
one between a Herbert and a Butler — the goose is a
garrulous fool, et frceterea nihil." Well may the bird
cry 0 tempora ! 0 mores ! It has indeed fallen upon
evil days. Things were not ever thus. Time was
when men held the goose in high esteem. Livy was
loud in his praises of the bird. Pliny was an ardent
admirer thereof. The Romans used to hold a festival
in honour of the feathered saviour of the Capitol.
The degradation of the goose is, I fear, a matter of
looks. Its best friend can scarcely call it handsome.
It is built for natation rather than perambulation ;

143

144 JUNGLE FOLK

nevertheless it spends much time out of water and feeds
chiefly on terra firma. It is probably a bird that is
undergoing evolution, a bird that is changing its habits.
It has taken to a more or less terrestrial existence, but
has not yet lost what I may perhaps call the aquatic
waddle. While walking it looks as though it might lose
its balance at any moment. As a matter of fact, the
goose is no mean pedestrian, and is capable of per-
forming considerable journeys on foot. When pressed,
it can show a fine turn of speed. This I have had some
opportunity of observing in the Zoological Gardens at
Lahore. A crane (Grus antigone) is confined in the
water-birds' enclosure along with the ducks, geese,
pelicans, etc. Now, cranes are the most frolicsome and
playful of birds. In no other fowl is the sense of
humour more highly developed. The crane in question
continually indulges in " cake walks," and cuts other
mad capers. Sometimes it is seized with the impulse
to " clear the decks," that is to say, the banks of the
ornamental pond. The operation is conducted as
follows : The crane opens out its wings, takes two
wild jumps into the air, then rushes at the nearest
duck or goose, with wings expanded, looking as though
it were going through one of the figures of the serpen-
tine dance. The frightened duck flees before the
crane ; the latter keeps up the chase until the duck
takes refuge in the water. Having succeeded in its
object, the crane trumpets loudly and performs a dance
which a Red Indian on the war-path could scarcely
hope to emulate. It next turns its attention to some
other inoffensive duck or goose. It is while being thus

GOOSEY, GOOSEY GANDER 145

chased that pinioned geese show a fine turn of
speed. Fly they cannot, so they sprint with expanded
wings.

The goose is a great favourite of mine. The more
one sees of the bird the more one hkes it and appreciates
its good quahties. It is a creature of character. It
rapidly forms attachments, and will sometimes follow
about, like a dog, the person to whom it has taken a
fancy. A curious instance of this was recorded many
years ago by The Yorkshire Gazette. A gander belong-
ing to a farmer developed a liking for an old gentleman.
The bird used to go every morning from the farmyard
to the house of the said elderly gentleman and awake
him by its cries. It would then accompany him the
whole day in his walks and strut behind him in the
most frequented streets, unmindful of the screams of
the urchins by whom the strange pair were often
followed. When the old gentleman sat down to rest
the gander used to squat at his feet. When they were
approaching a seat on which the old man was accus-
tomed to sit the gander used to run on ahead and
signify by cackhng and flapping of wings that the
resting-place was reached. When anyone annoyed
the old gentleman the gander would express its dis-
pleasure by its cries and sometimes by biting. When
its friend went into an inn to take a glass of ale, the
bird used to follow him inside if permitted ; if not
allowed to do so, it would wait outside for him.

One should not of course accept as gospel truth every-
thing one reads in a newspaper. It is necessary to dis-
criminate. Thus, when a well-known weekly journal

146 JUNGLE FOLK

produces a picture of the ladies of a Sultan's harem
dancing unveiled before a distinguished company of
gentlemen, one begins to wonder whether truth really
is stranger than fiction. However, I see no reason to
doubt the substantial accuracy of the story of the
Yorkshire gander. The goose is an exceptionally
intelHgent bird and is very easily tamed. I once made
friends with a goose in the Zoological Gardens at
Lahore. It was a white, bazaar-bred bird. Whenever
it saw me it used to walk up to the fence and emit a low
note of welcome. I was able to distinguish that
particular bird from the other geese by the fact that a
piece had been broken off its upper mandible.

I am glad to notice that Mr. W. H. Hudson, one of
the leading British ornithologists, has a high opinion
of the goose. In his Birds and Man he gives a delight-
ful account of the home-coming of a flock of tame
geese led by a gander. ^ He writes : " Arrived at the
wooden gate of the garden in front of the cottage, the
leading bird drew up square before it, and with re-
peated loud screams demanded admittance. Pretty
soon in response to the summons, a man came out of
the cottage, walked briskly down the garden-path and
opened the gate, but only wide enough to put his right
leg through ; then placing his foot and knee against
the leading bird he thrust him roughly back ; as he did
so three young geese pressed forward and were allowed
to pass in ; then the gate was slammed in the face
of the gander and the rest of his followers, and the
man went back to the cottage. The gander's indigna-
tion was fine to see, though he had probably experienced

GOOSEY, GOOSEY GANDER 147

the same rude treatment on many previous occasions.
Drawing up before the gate again, he called more loudly
than before ; then deliberately hfted a leg, and placing
his broad webbed foot like an open hand against the
gate, actually tried to push it open. His strength was
not sufficient, but he continued to push and call until
the man returned to open the gate and let the birds
go in."

If only for his sturdy independence and his in-
sistence on his rights the gander is a bird whose
character is worthy of study. He is courageous too ;
so is his wife. She will stand up fearlessly to a boy,
a kite, or even a fox, when her brood is threatened.
Last year in the Lahore Zoological Gardens a goose
hatched a number of goslings. The kites regarded
these as fair game, and, in spite of the efforts of the
mother, carried off several of the young birds. There-
upon four ganders took counsel and constituted them-
selves a bodyguard for the goose and chicks, one or
more of them being always on duty. In spite of this
a kite managed to secure another gosling. The mother
and her remaining five chicks were then placed in a
cage ; notwithstanding this, the ganders still main
tained their guard and cried loudly whenever a
human being approached the cage containing the
brood.

The goose, like the swan, uses its wing as a weapon.
When it attacks it stretches its neck and head low along
the ground and hisses ; it then dashes at its adversary,
seizes him with beak and claws, and lays on to him
right well with its powerful wings.

148 JUNGLE FOLK

Here endeth the account of *' Goosey, Goosey
Gander." I must apologise to the geese in their
natural state for having completely ignored them.
We will make amends by indulging in a wild-goose
chase at an early date 1

XXVII
GEESE IN INDIA

SEVEN or eight species of goose have been re-
corded as winter visitors to India. With two
exceptions they honour us with their presence
only on rare occasions, and do not really form
part and parcel of our Indian avifauna. The exceptions
are the grey lag goose and the barred-headed goose,
which visit India every winter in their millions. It is
these that form the subject of this essay. It is difficult
for the dweller in the south to realise how abundant
geese are in Northern India throughout the cold
weather. Flocks of them fly overhead so frequently
that they scarcely attract notice. Each flight looks
like a great trembling, quivering V, floating in the air,
a V of which the angle is wide and one limb frequently
longer than the other. During flight geese are dis-
tinguishable from cranes and storks by this V-shaped
formation, and by the fact that they never sail on
expanded wings ; they progress by means of a steady,
regular motion of the pinions, and are able to cover
long distances in short time. Geese on the wing are
distinguishable from the smaller species of duck by
their larger size, and from Brahminy ducks {Casarca

149

ISO JUNGLE FOLK

rutila) by their lighter colour. Moreover, the curious
note of this last species is very different from the cackle
of geese. Brahminy ducks go about in couples ; geese
fly in flocks.

Like most birds which breed in the far north, geese
are largely nocturnal ; their cries as they fly overhead
are among the commonest of the sounds which break
the stillness of the winter night in Upper India. They
feed mainly in the hours of darkness, and do a certain
amount of damage to the young wheat ; nor do they
leave their feeding ground until the sun is high in the
heavens, when they repair to a river bank or shallow
lake, where they love to bask in the sun, all with the
head tucked under the wing, save one or two who do
duty as sentinels.

The grey lag goose of India is, I believe, identical
with the wild goose of England. This is a belief not
shared by everyone. For over a century this species
has been the plaything of the systematist. Linnaeus
classed ducks and geese as one genus — Anas. This
goose he called Anas anser, the goose-duck. But it
was soon recognised that ducks and geese are not
sufficiently nearly related to form a common genus ;
hence, the geese were formed into the genus Anser,
and the grey lag goose was then called Anser cinereus,
the ashy-coloured goose, a not inappropriate name,
although the bird is brown rather than grey. But the
name was not allowed to stand. For some reason or
other it was changed to Anser ferus. Then it was
altered to Anser anser — the goosey goose, presumably
meaning the goose par excellence. Then Salvadori

GEESE IN INDIA 151

discovered, or thought that he discovered, that the
grey lag geese of the East are not quite hke those of
the West ; he therefore made two species of the bird,
calling the Indian variety Anser rubirostris, the red-
billed goose. Alpheraky denies the alleged difference.
The result is that the bird has some half-dozen names,
each of which has its votaries. It is this kind of thing
which deprives classical nomenclature of all its utility.
Until ornithologists learn to grasp the simple fact
that the external appearance of every living creature
is the result of two sets of forces, internal or hereditary,
and external or the influence of environment, they will
always be in difficulty over species. Englishmen who
dwell in sunny climates get browned by the sun, yet
no one dreams of making a separate species of sun-
burned Englishmen. Why, then, do so in the case of
birds whose external appearance is slightly altered
by their environment ?

Even as scientific men have toyed with the Latin
name of the bird, so have compositors played with its
English name. Nine out of ten of them flatly decline
to call it the grey lag goose ; they persist in setting it
down as the grey leg goose. If the bird's legs were grey
this would not matter. Unfortunately they are not.
In extenuation of the conduct of the compositor there
is the fact that etymologists are unable to agree as to
the meaning and derivation of the word lag.

The other common species of goose is the barred-
headed goose (Anser indicus). This is not found in
Europe. It is a grey bird, more so than the grey lag
goose, with two black bands across the back of the head.

»52 JUNGLE FOLK

The upper one runs from eye to eye, the lower is parallel
to, but shorter than, the upper bar. The back of the
neck is black and the sides white. There is some black
in the wings. The bill and feet are yellow. Both these
species of goose are a Httle smaller than the domestic
bird.

Geese are very wary creatures, and possess plenty
of intelligence. They all seem to know intuitively the
range of a gun, and as they object to being peppered
with No. 2, or any other kind of shot, it is necessary
for the sportsman to have recourse to guile if he would
make a bag. It is this which makes shooting them
such good sport. Every bird obtained has to be worked
for. By rising very early in the morning the gunner
may sometimes get a shot at them while they are
feeding. They seem to be less wary then than later in
the day. Sometimes, when riding at sunrise, I have
suddenly found myself within forty yards of a flock of
geese feeding in a field.

They usually indulge in their midday siesta in an
open place, and invariably post sentinels. For this
reason they do not give one much opportunity of
observing them. They cannot, or pretend they cannot,
distinguish between the naturalist and the sportsman.
In this, perhaps, they are wise. Their intelligence has,
I think, been exaggerated. Last winter, when punting
down the Jumna, I noticed a flock of geese resting on
the moist sand at the water's edge. Behind them was
a semi-circular sandbank, some fifteen feet in height.
This bank sheltered the geese from the wind. Birds,
like ladies, object to having their feathers ruffled. It

GEESE IN INDIA i53

occurred to me that owing to the sandbank one could
approach quite near to the flock unobserved. Knowing
that geese are creatures of habit, I counted on the flock
being at the identical spot next day. Consequently,
I returned the following morning and approached on
all fours from the sandbank side, and was rewarded
by securing a barred-headed goose. I repeated the
operation on the following day, and again bagged a
goose. The third day I was unable to visit the place,
so sent a friend, who was only prevented from slaying
a goose by the fact that two Brahminy ducks in mid-
stream saw him approaching and gave the alarm. We
left the camp the next day. I do not, therefore, know
whether the geese continued to frequent that danger-
fraught sandbank. The fact that they allowed them-
selves to be caught napping thrice shows that they have
not quite so much intelligence as some people credit
them with. For all that, the goose is no fool.

XXVIII
A SWADESHI BIRD

I COMMEND the common peafowl (Pavo cristatus)
to the Indian patriot, for it is a true Swadeshi
bird. It is made in India and nowhere else.
The beastly foreigner does, indeed, produce
a cheap imitation in the shape of Pavo ynuticus — the
Javan peafowl ; but with this the patriotic Indian bird
will have nothing to do. The two species are very like
in appearance, the most noticeable difference being in
the shape of the crest ; that of the Indian species is
Hke an expanded fan, while the cranial ornament of
the Javan species resembles a closed fan. Notwith-
standing their similarity they do not interbreed when
brought together. This, I am aware, was not Jerdon's
view. He stated that hybrids between the two species
were not rare in aviaries. In this particular instance
Jerdon, mirahile dictu, seems to have been wrong ;
he probably mistook the japanned variety of the
common bird for a hybrid. My experience tends to
show that the two species will not interbreed. Caste
feeling evidently runs high.

Peafowl are distributed all over India ; they occur
in most localities suited to their habits, that is to say

154

A SWADESHI BIRD i55

where there is plenty of cover, good crops, and abund-
ance of water. They are very plentiful in the Hima-
layan terai, where they are a source of annoyance to the
sportsman. You are sitting in your machan, Hstening
to the approaching line of beaters. Presently there is
a rustle among the fallen leaves ; a creature is making
its way through the undergrowth. You listen intently,
and perceive with satisfaction that the moving object
is coming towards your machan. You are now all
attention, and grasp your rifle in such a manner that
it can, in an instant, be brought to your shoulder.
Then, to your disgust, a peacock emerges with a good-
moming-have-you-used-Pear's-soap air. When, after
about half a dozen of these false alarms, a bear appears,
you are, as likely as not, unprepared for him.

In many parts of Northern India, notably in those
districts through which the Jumna and Ganges run,
peafowl are accounted sacred by the Hindu population.
If you shoot one in such a locaHty the villagers have
a disagreeable way of turning out en masse, armed
with lathis. The reverence for the peacock is curiously
local. In one village the people will invite you to shoot
the birds on account of the damage they do to the
crops ; while the inhabitants of a village at a distance
of less than a hundred miles will send a wire to the
Lieutenant-Governor if you so much as point a gun
at the sacred fowl. I once camped in a district where
peafowl were exceptionally numerous, and on this
account I concluded that they were venerated by the
populace. But, sacred or not, I hold that there is
nothing to equal a young peafowl as a table bird, so I

156 JUNGLE FOLK

used to mark down the trees in which the pea-chicks
roosted, and return to the spot with a gun, after the
shades of night had fallen. Having shot a sleeping
bird I smuggled it into camp in order not to offend the
village folk. After having taken these precautions for
about two months I learned that the people entertained
no objection whatever to the birds being shot ! Pea-
fowl are objects of veneration in all the Native States
of Raj put ana. These are strongholds of orthodox
Hinduism. Nilgai, even, may not be shot, because
the Pundits, not being zoological experts, labour
under the delusion that these ungainly antelope are
kine.

In some parts of India peafowl may be seen in a state
of semi-domestication and are regularly fed by temple
keepers. The drawback to the peacock as a domestic
bird is that he renders the night hideous by his cries,
which resemble those of an exceptionally lusty cat.
Blanford, I notice, called them '* sonorous." There is
no accounting for taste. In my opinion, peafowl should
be seen and not heard.

The peacock, like the ostrich, is almost omnivorous ;
it feeds chiefly upon grain, buds, and shoots of grass,
but it is not averse to insects, and will devour many
of these, which are generally supposed to be inedible
and so warningly coloured. Lizards and snakes com-
plete a varied menu.

The peafowl is a bird of considerable interest to the
zoologist, as it affords a striking example of sexual
dimorphism. In plain Enghsh, the cock differs greatly
from the hen in appearance. In some species, such

A SWADESHI BIRD 157

as the myna, the crow, and the blue jay, the cock is
indistinguishable from the hen. In others, as, for
example, the sparrow, the sexes differ slightly in
appearance. In others, again, the cock differs from the
hen as the sun does from the moon. The peafowl is one
of these.

Zoologists have for years been trying to find out
why in some species the cock resembles the hen while
in others it does not. Humiliating though it be, we
must, if we are honest, admit that we are little, if any,
nearer the explanation of the phenomenon than we were
a couple of centuries ago. Darwin thought that the
pretty plumage of the males was due to selection on
the part of the females. He tried to prove that hens
are able to pick and choose their mates, that they have
a keen eye for beauty. Just as political economists
of Ricardo's school teach us that every man marries
the richest woman who will have him, so does Darwin
ask us to believe that hens always mate with the
best-looking of their suitors, that they quiz each with
the eye of an art critic, and pronounce judgment
somewhat as follows : " Number one is no class ; his
train is too short. I would not be seen dead beside
number two ; he looks as though he had issued from
a fifth-rate dyer's shop. I'll take number three, he is
the pick of the bunch." Darwin argued that the
showy cocks are fully alive to their good looks, and
know how to show them off to best advantage. There
is much to be said in favour of his theory. A peacock,
when he sees a hen that he admires, promptly turns his
back upon her, erects his great train and his paltry

158 JUNGLE FOLK

little tail which is hidden away underneath. He then
spreads out his feathers and suddenly faces the hen,
flapping his wings, and causing every feather in his
body to quiver with a curious noise, so that he appears
to be seized with a shivering fit. The hen either affects
not to notice him, or assumes an air of studied boredom.
Unfortunately for Darwin's theor}^, peacocks some-
times show off in the absence of other living creatures.
Moreover, a young cock with a train of which a magpie
would be ashamed will strut about and show off with
the greatest pride.

There are in the '* Zoo " at Lahore a number of
albino peacocks. These, although handsome birds,
are not so beautiful as the coloured variety, being a
uniform white ; nevertheless they are exceedingly
popular with the hens, and experience no difficulty in
cutting out all the coloured beaux. It is very naughty
of the hens to prefer the albinos, for by so doing they
deal a severe blow to the theory of sexual selection.
Stolzman has quite another hypothesis to account for
the superior beauty of the male. As any ** suffragette "
will tell you, the male is a more or less superfluous
being ; the world would get along much better if he
were less plentiful. Hence, in the interests of the race,
it is necessary that the numbers of the pernicious
creature should be strictly limited. Nature has, there-
fore, arrayed cock-birds in coats of many colours so
that they shall be easily seen and devoured by beasts
of prey ! Wallace, again, thinks that the compara-
tively sombre hues of the hen are due to her greater
need of protection, as it is she who does all the in-

A SWADESHI BIRD 159

cubating. An objection to this view is the well-known
fact that many showy cocks sit on the eggs turn-about
with the dull-coloured hens in open and exposed nests.
Peafowl are polygamous. The breeding season
begins in May and continues all through the hot
weather. The typical nest is described as " a broad
depression scratched by the hen, and lined with a few
leaves and twigs or a little grass." It is usually made
amongst thick grass or in dense bushes, but occasionally
there is no attempt at concealment. Mr. A. Anderson
states that peahens frequently lay at high elevations,
that he has on several occasions taken their eggs from
the roofs of huts of deserted villages on which rank
vegetation grew to a height of two or three feet. My
experience of captive birds bears out this. The peahens
in the Lahore " Zoo " lay all their eggs on a broad shelf
in their aviary, some fifteen feet above the level of the
ground. Seven or eight eggs of a dirty white hue are
laid. These are, in the words of Hume, " delicious
eating."

XXIX
THE INDIAN REDSTART

POETS, naturalists, essayists, and novelists have
with one accord and from time immemorial
extolled the English spring. In this par-
ticular instance their eulogies are justified,
for spring in England is like a wayward maiden : when
she does choose to be amiable, she is so amiable that
her past perverseness is at once forgiven. But why
do not Anglo-Indian writers sing to the glories of the
Indian autumn ? Is it not worthy of all praise ? It is
the season which corresponds most nearly to spring
in England, and is as much longed for. Even as spring
chases away the gloomy, cheerless English winter, so
does autumn drive away the Indian hot weather, un-
pleasant everywhere, and terrible in the plains of the
Punjab and the United Provinces. Those condemned
to live in Portland Gaol probably suffer fewer physical
discomforts than they who spend the summer in any
part of the plains of Northern India. First, weeks of a
furnace-like heat, when to breathe seems an effort ;
then a long spell of close, steamy heat, so that the earth
seems to have become a great washhouse. From this
the Anglo-Indian emerges, limp, listless, and languid.

1 60

THE INDIAN REDSTART i6i

How great, then, is his joy when one day he notices a
suspicion of coolness in the air. Day by day this cool-
ness grows more appreciable, so that by late September
or early October to take an early-morning stroll be-
comes a pleasure. Then the sky is bluer, the atmo-
sphere is clearer, the foliage is greener than at any other
time of the year. Then at eventide the village smoke
hangs low, looking like a thin blue semi-transparent
cloud resting lightly on the earth — a sure sign of the
approaching cold weather. Then, too, the winter
birds begin to appear.

Even as the cuckoo is welcomed in England as the
harbinger of the sweet spring, so in Northern India
is the redstart looked for as the herald of the glorious
cold weather. Within a week of the first sight of that
sprightly little bird will come the day when punkahs
cease to be a necessity. Last year (1907) the hot
weather lingered long, and the redstarts were late in
coming. It was not until the 27th September that I
observed one at Lahore.

Several species of redstart are found within Indian
limits, but only one of them haunts the plains, and so
thoroughly deserves the name of the Indian redstart
{Ruticilla mfiventris). This species visits India in
hundreds of thousands from September to April.

I have observed it in the city of Madras, but so far
south as that it is not common, being a mere straggler
to those parts. In the Punjab and the United Pro-
vinces, however, it is exceedingly numerous. Through-
out the cold weather at least one pair take up their
abode in every compound,

i62 JUNGLE FOLK

The Indian redstart is a sexually dimorphic species,
that is to say the cock differs from the hen in appear-
ance ; the former, moreover, is seasonally dimorphic.
The feathers of his head, neck, breast, and back are
black with grey fringes. In the autumn and early
winter the grey edges completely obliterate the black
parts, so that the bird looks grey. But during the
winter the grey edges gradually become worn away,
and the black portions then show, so that by the middle
of the summer the cock redstart is a black bird. Thus
he remains until transformed by the autumnal moult.
His under parts are deep orange, and his lower back
and all the tail feathers, except the middle pair, are
brick-red. Now, when the tail is unexpanded the two
middle caudal feathers are folded over the others, and
hide them from view, and, as the lower back is
covered by the wings, the red parts are not visible
when the bird walks about looking for food ; but the
moment it takes to its wings all the red feathers become
displayed, so that the bird, as it flies away, looks as
though its plumage were almost entirely red. Hence
the name redstart — ** start " being an old English word
for tail. Another popular name for the bird is firetail.

Two species of redstart visit England, and these
also are characterised by reddish tails. The hen
Indian redstart is reddish brown where the cock is
grey or black, and red where he is red. The gradual
change in colour undergone by the cock redstart
every year is instructive, because it seems to show that
the bird is even now undergoing evolution. I think it
likely that the feathers of the cock were at one time

THE INDIAN REDSTART 163

uniformly grey and that they are becoming a uniform
black. The tendency seems to be for the grey margin
to become narrower. It will probably eventually
disappear. In some birds it is so narrow that much
black shows even after the autumn moult ; in others the
margin is so broad that it never disappears. What is
causing this change in plumage ? It cannot be the
need for protection. The incipient blackness is pro-
bably an indirect result of either natural or sexual
selection. Thus birds with black bases to their feathers
may be either more robust or have stronger sexual
instincts than those which have scarcely any black.
In the former case natural selection, and in the latter
sexual selection, will tend to preserve those individuals
which have the least grey in their feathers. This idea
of the connection between colour and strength is not
mere fancy. Cuckoo-coloured (barred-grey) birds are
very common among ordinary fowls, but are, I beheve,
never seen among Indian gamecocks. Grey plumage
seems to be inconsistent with fighting propensities.
Black, on the other hand, seems to be a good fighting
colour. Most black-plumaged birds, as, for example,
the king crow, the various members of the crow tribe,
and the coot, are exceedingly pugnacious.

Redstarts hve largely on the ground, from which
they pick their food. This appears to consist ex-
clusively of tiny insects. They sometimes hawk
their quarry on the wing. They are usually found near
a hedge or thicket, into which they take refuge when
disturbed. They show but Httle fear of man, and, con-
sequently, frequent gardens. They occasionally perch

i64 JUNGLE FOLK

on the housetop. Indeed, they are quite robin-hke
in their habits, and the species, thanks to its reddish
abdomen, looks more Hke the famihar Enghsh robin
than does the Indian robin.

The Indian redstart, hke all its family, has a peculiar
quivering motion of its tail, which is especially notice-
able immediately after it has ahghted on a perch ;
hence its Hindustani name, Thir-thira, the trembler.
Its Telugu name is said to be Nuni-budi-gadu — the
oil-bottle bird — a name of which I am unable to offer
any explanation. Eurasian boys call it the ** devil
bird," for reasons best known to themselves.

The redstart stays in India until May, when it goes
into Tibet and Afghanistan to breed. A few in-
dividuals are said to spend the summer in India.
There are in the British Museum specimens supposed
to have been shot at Sambhar in July and Ahmed-
nagar in June. I have never observed this bird in
India between the end of May and the beginning of
September, and am inclined to think that the above
dates have been incorrectly recorded.

XXX

THE NIGHT HERON

SOME American millionaires are said to sleep for
only three hours out of the twenty-four. I do
not believe this ; I regard the story as a fabrica-
tion of the halfpenny paper. But, even if it
be true, the night heron {Nycticorax griseus) is able
to eclipse the performance. That bird only sleeps when
it has nothing better to do. It looks upon sleep as a
luxury, not a necessity. As its name implies, it is a
creature of the night ; but it is equally a day bird.
You will never catch it napping. Just before sunset,
when the crows, wearied by the iniquities they have
wrought during the day, are wending their way to the
corvine dormitory, the night herons sally forth from
the trees (" roosts " would be a misnomer for them) in
which they have spent the day and betake themselves,
in twos and threes, to the water's edge. As they fly
they make the welkin ring with their cries of waak, waak,
or quaal, quaal — sounds which may be likened to the
quacking of a distressed duck. Having arrived at their
feeding-ground, they separate and proceed to catch
fish and frogs in the manner of the orthodox heron.
After an all-night sitting, or rather standing, in shallow

165

i66 JUNGLE FOLK

water, they return to their day quarters, where they
are popularly supposed to sleep. They may possibly
spend the day in slumber when they have neither
nests to build nor young to feed. I am not in a position
to deny this, never having visited a heronry on such an
occasion. I speak, however, as one having authority
when I say that all through the nesting season the
night heron works harder during the hours of daylight
than the British workman does. At the present time
(April) thirty or forty night herons are engaged in
nesting operations in the tall trees that grow on the
islands in the ornamental pond that graces the Lahore
Zoological Gardens, and as I visit those gardens almost
daily I have had some opportunity of observing the
behaviour of our night bird during the daytime. I
may here say that night herons seem very partial to
Zoological Gardens, inasmuch as they also resort to
the Calcutta " Zoo " for nesting purposes. This is,
of course, as it should be. Every well-conditioned
bird should bring up its family in a '* zoo " by
preference. Had birds the sense to understand this,
many of them would be spared the miseries of
captivity.

Before discoursing upon its nesting habits it is
fitting that I should try to describe the night heron,
so that the bird may be recognised when next seen.
I presume that everyone knows what a heron looks
like, but possibly there exist persons who would be at
a loss to say wherein it differs from a stork or a crane.
It may be readily distinguished from the latter by
its well-developed hind toe. Storks and herons are

THE NIGHT HERON 167

perching waders, while cranes do not trust themselves
to trees because they cannot perch, having no hind
toe to grasp with. The heron's bill is flatter and more
dagger-shaped than that of a stork. Moreover the
former possesses, inside the middle claw, a little comb,
which the stork lacks. The heron flies with neck drawn
in, head pressed against the back, and beak pointing
forwards. It never sails in the air, but progresses, like
the flying-fox, with a steady, continuous flapping
motion. So much for herons in general. To those who
would learn more of these and other long-legged fowls
I commend Mr. Frank Finn's excellent little book,
entitled How to Know the Indian Waders.

The night heron is considerably smaller than the
common heron — the heron we see in England, and
larger than the Indian paddy bird — the ubiquitous
fowl that looks brown when it is standing and white
when it is flying. The head and back of the night heron
are black, the remainder of the upper plumage is grey,
the lower parts are white. There are two or three long,
white, narrow feathers, which grow from the back of
the head and hang down hke a pigtail. The eye is
rich ruby-red. Young night herons are brown with
yellowish spots, and the eye is deep yellow.

Any resident of Madras may see this species if he
repair to the Redhills Tank. One of the islands in that
tank supports a considerable population of night herons
and little cormorants. The former nest in the trees
on the island in July. The place is well worth visiting
then. As the boat carrying a human being approaches
the islet, all the night herons fly away without a sound.

i68 JUNGLE FOLK

They love their young, but not so much as they love
themselves, so they leave their offspring at the first
approach of the human visitor and remain away until
he turns his back on their nesting-ground. A night
heron never allows his valour to get the better of his
discretion. The nest is a platform of twigs placed any-
where in a tree. Four pale greenish-blue eggs are laid.
A heronry is a filthy place. The possessors are, like
our Indian brethren, utterly regardless of the principles
of sanitation. The whole island will be found white
with the droppings of the birds, and the unsavoury
smell that emanates therefrom would do credit to a
village inhabited by chamars. Although they are evil-
tempered, cantankerous creatures, night herons always
nest in company. It is no uncommon thing to find
half a dozen nests in the same tree, so that the sitting
birds are able to comipare notes while engaged in the
duties of incubation. Both the parent birds take part
in nest construction, and, as they work by day, it is
quite easy to watch the process. They wrench small
branches from trees, and, as they have only the beak
with which to grasp these, they find twig-gathering
hard work. When a twig has been secured it is dropped
on to the particular part of the tree in which the bird
has thought fit to build. Forty or fifty twigs dropped
haphazard in a heap constitute the nest. The birds
make a great noise while engaged in building. Quarrels
are of frequent occurrence. It sometimes happens
that two birds want the same twig ; this invariably
gives rise to noisy altercation. The crows too are
provocative of much bad language on the part of the

THE NIGHT HERON 169

night herons. Whenever any of the crows of the
neighbourhood has nothing else to do, he says to a
kindred spirit : *' Come, let us worry the night
herons." Whereupon the pair — Arcades umbo — go
and pretend to show the herons how to build a
nest.

When, my friends, you consider the untidiness and
filthiness of the heron's nest, you will be able to appre-
ciate to the full the audacity of the latest falsehood
circulated by the plume trade — to wit, the egret plucks
out its nuptial plumes, which constitute the " osprey "
of commerce, and weaves these into the nest to make
it more cosy ; and, after the young ones are fledged,
some honest fellow visits the nest and disentangles the
plumes therefrom !

A baby heron is a disgustingly ugly creature. It is
a living caricature. Patches of long hair-like feathers
are studded, apparently haphazard, over its otherwise
naked body and give it an indescribably grotesque
appearance. It looks like a bird in its dotage. If you
lift a young heron out of the nest you will probably
find that his "corporation" is distended to bursting-
point, and, if 3^ou do not handle him carefully, a
half-digested frog will, as likely as not, drop out of
him !

The farther north one goes the earlier in the year
does the night heron breed. In Kashmir the nesting
season is in full swing in March. In the Punjab April
and May are the nesting months ; in Madras the birds
do not begin to build until July ; and I have seen eggs
at the end of August. It is my belief that the night

170 JUNGLE FOLK

heron is a migratory bird. During the winter months
not a single specimen of that species is to be seen in or
about Lahore, but they migrate there regularly every
April. They disappear again to I know not where when
they have reared up their young.

XXXI
THE CEMENT OF BIRD MASONS

BIRDS may be divided into two classes — those
which build nests and those which do not.
To the latter belong the parasitic starlings
and cuckoos, which drop their eggs in the
nests of other birds ; those, such as plovers, which lay
their eggs on the bare ground ; and those which deposit
them in holes, in the earth, in trees, in banks, or in
buildings, as, for example, the Indian roller or blue
jay (Coracias indica).

Interm-cdiate between the birds that build nests
and those which do not — for there are no sudden
transitions, no sharply defined lines of division in
nature — are those birds which merely furnish, more or
less cosily, the ready-made holes in which they deposit
their eggs. The common myna (Acridotheres tristis)
affords a familiar instance of this class of birds. Some
of the nest-builders are really excavators ; they dig out
their nests in a tree or bank. The woodpeckers and the
bee-eaters are examples of these. The rest of the nest-
builders actually construct their nurseries. These
buildings are of various degrees of complexity. Crows,
doves, birds of prey, herons, and a few other families

171

172 JUNGLE FOLK

are content with a mere platform of sticks and twigs,
which rests in the fork of a tree, or on a ledge or other
suitable surface. The birds which build primitive
nests of this description are not put to the trouble of
seeking or manufacturing any cohesive materials. It
is only when the nest takes some definite shape and
form that means have to be found of binding together
the materials of which it is composed, and of attaching
the whole to that which supports the nest. In such
cases the component materials are either woven or
cemented together. It is among the woven nests that
we find the highest examples of avian architecture.
The homes of the weaver-bird {Ploceus haya) and of
the Indian wren-warbler {Prinia inornata) are con-
structed with a skill that defies competition. But it is
not with these wonderful nests that we are concerned
to-day. It must suffice to say that woven nests have
to be supported ; they cannot float in the air. There
are various methods of supporting them. The nest
may be firmly wedged into a forked branch. It may be
bound to its supports, as in the case of the nest of the
king crow {Dicrurus ater). The supporting branches
may be worked into its structure, as is done by Prinia
inornata. The nest may hang, as does that of Ploceus
baya. It may be cemented to its support, as in the
case of the nests of the various swifts ; or it may rest
on supporting fibres which are slung on to a forked
branch, just as a prawn net is slung on to its frame.
The golden oriole {Oriolus kundoo) resorts to this
ingenious device.

Coming now to those nurseries in which the building

THE CEMENT OF BIRD MASONS 173

materials are cemented together, we must first con-
sider the nests of the swallows and swifts. These birds
secrete a very sticky saliva, which quickly hardens
when it is exposed to the air. This constitutes an
excellent cement. Watch a swift working at its nest
under the eaves of a house. It flies to it with a feather
or piece of straw carried far back in the angle of its
mouth, hangs itself by means of its four forwardly
directed toes on to the half-completed nest, which is
stuck on to the wall of the house, and, having carefully
placed the feather or straw in the required position,
holds it there until the sticky saliva it has poured over
it has had time to harden and thus firmly glue the
added piece of material to the nest. The bits of straw,
feathers, etc., may be said to constitute the bricks,
and the saliva the cement of the swift's nest. Some
swifts build their nests exclusively of their saliva.
These constitute the " edible birds' nests " of commerce,
and may be likened to houses built entirely of cement.
The martin (Chelidon urhica), the common swallow
(Hirundo rustica), and the wire-tailed swallow (i^.
smithii) construct their nests of clay and saliva. They
repair to some puddle and there gather moist cla}^,
which they stick on to some building, so as to form
a projecting saucer-shaped shelf. In this the eggs
are laid. But nature has not vouchsafed sticky saliva
to all birds, so that many of them have to find their
cement just as they have to seek out the other building
materials they use.

The chestnut-bellied nuthatch [Sitta castaneiventris) ,
which nestles in holes in trees, fills up all but a small

174 JUNGLE FOLK

part of the entrance with mud " consolidated with some
viscid seed of a parasitical plant."

The hornbills close up the greater part of the orifice
of the hole in which they nest with their droppings
mixed with a little earth.

Hume informs us the rufous-fronted wren-warbler
(Franklinia buchanani) utilises a fungus as its cement.
" In all the nests that I have seen," he writes, " the
egg-cavity has been lined with something very soft.
In many of the nests the lining is composed of soft,
felt-like pieces of some dull salmon-coloured fungus,
with which the whole interior is closely plastered."

The cement which is most commonly used is cobweb.
I do not think that I am exaggerating when I say that
cobweb enters extensively into the structure of the
nests of more than one hundred species of Indian birds.
What birds would do without our friend the spider
I cannot imagine.

The nest of some birds is literally a house of cobwebs.
The beautiful white-browed fan-tail fly-catcher {Rhipi-
dura alhifrontata) is a case in point. Its nursery is so
thickly plastered with cobweb as to sometimes look
quite white. It is a tiny cup that rests on a branch of a
bush or small tree, and is composed of fine twigs and
roots, which are cemented to the supporting branch
and to one another by cobweb. This the bird takes
from the webs of those trap-door spiders which weave
large nets on the ground.

Utterly regardless of the feelings of the possessor
of the web, the fly-catcher takes beakful after beakful
of it, and smears it over the part of the branch on which

THE CEMENT OF BIRD MASONS 175

the nest will rest. It then sticks to this some dried
grass stems or other fine material, next adds more
cobweb, and continues in this manner until the neat
little cup-shaped nest is completed. This, as I have
already said, is thickly coated exteriorly with cobweb
to give it additional strength.

The sunbirds or honeysuckers make nearly as
extensive use of cobweb in nest construction as do the
fan-tailed fly-catchers. Loten's honeysucker [Arach-
nechthra lotenia) seeks until it finds a large spider's web
stretched horizontally across some bush ; it then pro-
ceeds to build its nursery in the middle of this. As the
material is added the nest grows heavier, and thus
depresses the middle of the web until it at last assumes
the shape of a V, in the angle of which the mango-
shaped nest is situated. The nursery is thus sus-
pended from the bush by the four corners of the
cobweb.

A spider's web looks such a flimsy affair that it does
not seem possible that it could support a nest peopled
by a number of birds. Sometimes the nest derives
additional support by being attached to other branches.
Moreover, a tiny creature such as a sunbird is almost
as light as the proverbial feather. Then cobweb is
exceedingly elastic, and, considering its attenuity,
is able to support a surprising amount of weight. It
occasionally happens that the common garden spider
(Epeira diadema) is not able to find a foint d'appui
to which it can attach the lower part of its web ; it then
utilises a stone (which may be as much as a quarter-inch
in each dimension) as a plummet to make the nest

176 JUNGLE FOLK

taut. This comparatively heavy stone hangs by a
single thread.

I have sometimes amused myself by testing the
strength of a strand of cobweb stretched across a path,
by hanging bits of match or other light material on it.
In one experiment a gossamer thread, thirty feet in
length, stretched across a road, bore the weight of
five blades of grass which were hung upon it. The
sixth blade proved to be the last straw that broke the
camel's back.

The strength of cobweb is proved by the fact that
many of the birds that build hanging nests use it as
cement to attach them to the supports from which
they are suspended. The Indian white-eye {Zoster ops
palhehrosa) fixes its tiny oriole-like nest to the support-
ing branches, not by fibres, but by cobweb. In the
same way the yellow-eyed babbler (Pyctorhis sinensis),
whose nest is shaped like an inverted cone, attaches
this by cobweb to the stems of the crop in which it is
situated.

The common honeysucker (Arachnechthra asiatica),
whose nest looks like a tangle of dried twigs and other
rubbish, uses much cobweb in the construction thereof.
The little nursery is suspended bj^ means of cobweb
from some projecting branch of a bush, and the various
materials which compose it are stuck together with
spider's web ; but in this case some sticky resinous
substance is usually used in addition to the cobweb.

The tailor-bird {Orthotomous sutorius) always uses
cobweb to draw together the edges of the leaf or leaves
that compose its nest, Having made a series of punc-

THE CEMENT OF BIRD MASONS 177

tures along the edges of the leaf to be utilised, it pro-
cures some cobweb, and, having attached it to one edge
of the leaf, carries the strand across to the other edge
and, before attaching it to this, pulls it so tightly as
to draw the two edges together. When the nest has
taken its final shape the bird strengthens the first
attenuated strands of cobweb b}^ adding more cobweb
or some threads of cotton.

Many birds which weave their nests plaster the
exterior more or less thickly with cobweb so as to add
strength to the structure.

It would be wearisome to detail all the kinds of nest
into the composition of which cobweb enters. Suffi-
cient has been said to show that this very useful
substance is the favourite cement of bird masons.

XXXII
INDIAN FLY-CATCHERS

THERE exist in the Indian Empire no fewer
than fifty-one species of fly-catcher. This
fact speaks volumes for the wealth of both
the bird and the insect population of
India. Fly-catchers are little birds that feed ex-
clusively on insects, which they secure on the wing.
Their habit is to take up a strategic position on some
perch, usually the bare branch of a tree, whence they
make sallies into the air after their quarry. Having
secured the object of their sortie — and this they never
fail to do — they return to their perch. A fly-catcher
will sometimes make over a hundred of these Httle
flights in the course of an hour ; the appetite of an
insectivorous bird appears to be insatiable. All fly-
catchers obtain their food in this manner, but all
birds which behave thus are not members of the
fly-catcher family. As fly-catchers are characterised
by rather weak legs, and, in consequence, do not
often descend to the ground, they are of necessity
confined to parts of the country well supplied with
trees. Thus it comes to pass that the great majority
of^ fly-catchers are found only in well-wooded hill

178

INDIAN FLY-CATCHERS 179

tracts. Four or five species, however, occur com-
monly in the plains. With two of these — the glorious
paradise fly -catchers (Terpsiphone) and the very
elegant fan-tail fly-catchers (Rhipidura) — I have dealt
in my former books. I therefore propose to confine
myself to some of the many other species. Of these
last, the brown fly -catcher (Alseonax latirostris)
is the one most frequently met with in the plains.
This is the most inornate of all the fly-catchers. As its
name implies, brown is its prevailing hue. Its lower
parts are, indeed, whitish, and there is an inconspicuous
ring of white feathers round the e^^e, but everything
else about it is earthy brown. It is the kind of bird
the casual observer is likely to pass over, or, if he does
happen to observe it, he probably sets it down as one
of the scores of warblers that visit India in the cold
weather. It is only when the bird makes a sudden
dash into the air after an insect that one realises that it
is a fly-catcher. The brown fly-catcher is an Ishmaelite.
It seems never to remain for long in one place, and,
although it may be seen at all times of the year, its
nest does not appear ever to have been found in this
country.

A more ornamental fly-catcher which occasionally
visits the plains is the grey-headed fly-catcher [Culicapa
ceylohensis) . In this species the head, neck, and breast
are ash-coloured, the wings and tail are dark brown,
the back greenish yellow, and the lower parts dull
yellow. This fly-catcher is common both in the Nilgiris
and the Himalayas. It has the usual habits of the
family. Like the majority of them it is no songster.

i8o JUNGLE FOLK

although it frequently emits a cheeping note. Its nest
is a very beautiful structure, a ball of moss which is
attached to a moss-covered tree or rock, more often
than not near a mountain stream.

Fly-catchers usually nidificate in the neighbourhood
of water, because that element favours the existence
of their insect food.

Siphia parva — the European red -breasted fly-
catcher— is a species which visits the plains of India
in the cold weather, but not many individuals pene-
trate so far south as Madras. This bird is easily
recognised, since the cock bears a strong likeness to the
famihar English robin red-breast. I may here mention
that an allied species — the Indian red-breasted fly-
catcher, S. hyperythra — summers in Kashmir and
winters in Ceylon, but, curiously enough, it has not been
recorded from the plains of India. It would thus seem
to fly from Kashmir to Ceylon in a single night. Even
so, it would be very extraordinary if an occasional
individual did not fail to perform the whole journey in
so short a space of time ; therefore, this species should
be watched for in South India in spring and autumn.
It is easily distinguished from alhed species by a
black band which surrounds the red breast and
abdomen.

As it is impossible to detail in one brief essay all the
species of fly-catcher found in the Indian hills, I propose
merely to mention those that are most common in the
Nilgiris and the Himalayas, and then to make a few
observations on fly-catchers in general. In addition to
the fan-tail, the grey-headed and the brown fly-catchers,

INDIAN FLY-CATCHERS i8i

the following species are abundant in the Nilgiris :
Tickell's blue fly-catcher (Cyornis tickelli), the Nilgiri
blue fly-catcher (Stoparola albicaudata) , and the black
and orange fly-catcher (Ochromela nigrirufa). In the
Himalayas, the paradise fly-catcher is common in
summer at lower altitudes. Above 6000 feet elevation
the following are the species most commonly seen :
the grey-headed fly-catcher, the white-browed blue
fly-catcher (Cyornis supeyciliaris), and the beautiful
verditer fly-catcher [Stoparola melanops), which is no
mean songster.

Fly-catchers form a most interesting group of
birds. It is, I maintain, quite impossible for any
man possessed of a logical mind to contemplate
this family without discovering that the theory
of natural selection is utterly inadequate to account
for the variety of animal hfe that exists upon the
earth. The habits of practically all the fly-catchers
are identical. They all dwell in an arboreal habitat ;
nevertheless, the various species display great dis-
similarity in outward appearance. Some species are
brightly plumaged, others are as dully clad as a bird
can possibly be. Some have crests and long tails, others
lack these ornaments. The adult cock paradise fly-
catcher, with his long, white, satin-hke tail feathers,
is the most striking of birds, while the brown fly-
catcher is less conspicuously attired than a hen sparrow.
This is not the only difficulty presented to the theory
of natural selection by fly-catchers. In some species,
as, for example, the paradise fly-catcher, the sexes are
altogether dissimilar in appearance, while in others the

i82 JUNGLE FOLK

most practised eye cannot distinguish between the
cock and the hen. Nor does there appear to be any con-
nection between nesting habits and the presence or
absence of sexual dimorphism. The fan-tail fly-
catchers, in which the sexes are alike, and the paradise
fly-catchers, in which they differ widely, both build
little cup-shaped nests in the lower branches of trees,
and in both the cock shares with the hen the duty of
incubation. Again, the verditer and the white-browed
blue fiy-catchers build their nests in holes in trees ;
yet in the former both sexes are blue, while in the
latter the cock only is blue.

Further, in the fly-catchers we see every gradation
of sexual dimorphism, from a difference so slight
as to be perceptible only when the sexes are seen side
by side, to a difference so great as to make it difficult
to believe that the sexes belong to one and the same
species. It must, therefore, be obvious to any sane
person that neither natural nor sexual selection can be
directly responsible for the colouration of many species
of fly-catcher.

Another interesting characteristic of the fly-catchers
is the total absence of green in the plumage of any
of them. They are birds of a variety of colours ;
they display many shades of blue, yellow, orange, red,
grey, and brown, also black and white ; but not one
carries any green feathers. Yet they are essentially
arboreal birds, so that green would be a very useful
colour to them from the point of view of protection from
enemies. From the fact, then, that none of the fly-
catchers are green, we seem to be compelled to infer

INDIAN FLY-CATCHERS 183

that there is something in their constitution that pre-
vents green variations appearing in their plumage.

In conclusion, note must be made of the fact that
fly-catchers, although they subsist almost entirely
upon insect diet, appear but rarely to devour butter-
flies. I have watched fly-catchers closely for several
years, and have on two occasions only seen them chase
butterflies or moths. Five years ago in Madras I ob-
served a paradise fly-catcher chasing a small butterfly,
and recently, in the Himalayas, I saw a grey-headed
fly-catcher drop down from a tree and seize a moth
that was resting in the gutter. The reason why fly-
catchers do not often attack butterflies is obvious ;
these insects offer very little meat and a great deal of
indigestible wing surface. Nevertheless, the theory
of protective mimicry is almost exclusively illustrated
by examples taken from butterflies. In theory, these
creatures are so relentlessly persecuted by insectivorous
birds that in order to escape their foes many edible
butterflies mimic the appearance of unpalatable species.
Unfortunately for theory, few creatures in practice
seem to attack butterflies when on the wing, which is
just the time when the " mimicry " is most obvious.

The elegant httle fly-catchers, then, are birds which
mock Darwin, laugh at Wallace, and make merry at
the expense of Muller and Bates !

XXXIII
INSECT HUNTERS

FLY -CATCHERS, although they subsist al-
most entirely on insects, are by no means
the only insectivorous creatures in existence.
They merely form a considerable branch of
the Noble Society of Insect Hunters.

If there exist any philosophers in the insect world
they must find the uncertainty of life a fitting theme
on which to lavish their philosophical rhetoric. Con-
sider for a moment the precariousness of the life of an
insect ! There exist in India probably over three
hundred species of birds which live almost exclusively
upon an insect diet. Think of the mortality among
insects caused by these birds alone, by the mynas, the
swifts, the bee-eaters, the king crows, et hoc genus omne.
Then there are insectivorous mammals, to say nothing
of man who yearly destroys millions of injurious and
parasitic hexapods. Fish too are very partial to
insects, while for spiders, frogs, and lizards, life without
insects would be impossible. Nor do the troubles of
insects end here, they are preyed upon by their own
kind, and, strange phenomenon, some plants entrap
and destroy them. But we Anglo-Indians cannot

1S4

INSECT HUNTERS 185

afford to sympathise with the insects. In spite of the
high mortahty of the hexapod tribes, they flourish
Hke the green bay-tree. So prohfic are they that,
notwithstanding the fact that milhons are daily des-
troyed by their foes, the life of human beings in India
becomes a burden on account of the creeping things.
In the monsoon the insects tax man almost to the
limits of his endurance — they teaze, bite, and worry
his person, they destroy his worldly goods, and, not
content with this, find their way into his food and
drink. For this reason I feel very kindly disposed to
the frogs, the hzards, and the fly-catching birds.

It is worth coming to India if only to see a frog or
toad at work. Go at sunset, during a break in the rains,
on to the chahutra, and place a lamp near you. Thou-
sands of insects of all shapes and sizes are attracted
by the light. In their wake come the toads. A toad
always looks hlasL His stupid appearance and sluggish
movements give him this air. Watch him as he hops
into the zone of light. He advances to within an inch
of a resting insect, and, before you can say " Jack
Robinson," the creature has flown into his mouth !
The toad takes another hop, and a second insect
follows the example of the first ; then another and
another ! Have the insects all suddenly gone mad ?
Are they bewitched, mesmerised by the ugly face of
the toad ? Nothing of the kind. The insects have
not jumped into the amphibian's mouth at all. The
toad has a long tongue attached at the front end to
its mouth. This tongue is covered with sticky saliva
and is capable of being protruded and retracted with

i86 JUNGLE FOLK

lightning rapidity. In other words, the toad's tongue
is just a fly-paper, capable of the most perfect mani-
pulation. The unsuspecting insect is resting, and hears
not the silent approach of its enemy. Suddenly it is
caught up by a great sticky tentacle, then comes
oblivion. The toad's tongue has shot forth and back
again so quickly as to be imperceptible to the human
eye.

The lizard obtains its food in a similar way. It
enters the bungalow and lies up during the day behind
a picture. As soon as the lamps are lighted it comes
forth as hungry as the proverbial hunter. In a single
night it devours hundreds of insects. I have watched a
lizard feeding in this way until he had consumed so
many insects that he could scarcely move : and doubt-
less he would have continued his gluttonous meal but
for the fact that he had become as slow as Mark Twain's
jumping frog after it had partaken copiously of shot !
The lizard cannot shoot out his tongue to the extent
that the frog can, so he has to make a dash at each
insect before swallowing, and, to his credit, it must be
said that he rarely lets a victim escape him unless, of
course, he has over-eaten himself.

Although I am very fond of the nimble little gecko,
I must admit that he is an out-and-out glutton. Some-
times his gluttony leads him to try to capture quarry
beyond his capacity. Let me relate an amusing little
incident that I recently witnessed. The scene was my
dressing-table, and the time 9 p.m. in the month of
August ; the day I forget. It matters not. A large
stag-beetle was crawling laboriously across the dressing-

INSECT HUNTERS 187

table. Upon this table was an ordinary looking-glass,
under which a lizard had taken up his habitation.
From his point of view the position was a good one,
for the lamp overhead attracted to the table a number
of insects which the lizard could watch from under the
base of the glass.

The lizard caught sight of the beetle and began to
stalk it. Surely, I thought, the hzard will not try to
devour that beetle, which is nearly half as big as
himself ; but, as he emerged from under the glass, I
saw that he meant business. Slowly but surely he
gained upon the slow-moving beetle. Having arrived
close up behind it, he shot forth his sticky tongue.
The next moment the beetle found itself lying on a
spot eight inches from where it had a second before
stood, and the lizard was trembling in his lair. The
reptile had apparently expected to find the beetle as
soft and luscious as a strawberry, so the instant his
tongue felt the hard, chitinous integument of the beetle
he drew that organ back pretty smartly. But his
tongue was so sticky that the beetle stuck to it for a
moment, and so was thrown backwards over the
reptile's head. The lizard was startled at what had
happened, so instinctively took cover. The insect too
was scared nearly out of its wits, and did what most
frightened insects do, that is to say, retracted its legs
and remained perfectly motionless. When, however,
several minutes passed and nothing happened, the
beetle grew bold, and putting forth its legs, began
again to crawl on its way. Directly it moved the
lizard put himself on the qui vive, and even went so far

i88 JUNGLE FOLK

as again to follow it, but, profiting by his recent
experience, did not attempt a second time to swallow it.
Thus the beetle passed off the stage.

Seeing that this particular lizard was not over sharp,
I determined to play a little practical joke upon it.
Taking a piece of black worsted, I rolled it up into a
ball about the size of a fine, strapping blue-bottle fly,
and, having attached a piece of cotton to it, I
dangled this bait before the lizard. I succeeded in
" drawing " him. He was on it before I could say
" knife."

In less than a second the worsted was in his mouth,
but he dropped it like a hot potato, and then sulked
under the looking-glass, apparently greatly annoyed
at having been made a fool of twice in succession. The
next day I chanced to come upon a toad, busy catching
insects. Wondering whether he would be deceived, I
threw on to the grass near him the end of a lighted
cigarette which I had been smoking. He at once
caught sight of it, and sat there looking at it intently
for some seconds, and I began to think he would not
fall into the trap, but the temptation was too strong,
for he shot forth his tongue to seize it. He discovered
that the '* tongue is an unruly member " as he re-
tracted the smarting organ.

It is therefore clear that some insect-hunters are ever
ready to try experiments as regards food.

Fish too, when really hungry, do not appear to
exercise much discrimination as to the nature of the
''fly " they will take.

The swarming of the " white ants " is a red-letter day

INSECT HUNTERS 189

for the insect-eating animals, an annual harvest in
which they revel. The mynas and the crows do not
disdain to partake of this copious meal supplied by
nature.

The latter are omnivorous birds ; all is grist which
comes to their mill — carrion, fruit, locusts, termites,
fish, grain, and the crumbs which fall from man's
table.

The mynas too eat a variety of food, but they
are first and foremost insectivorous birds. They are
never so happy as when chasing grasshoppers on the
grass. By preference they accompany cattle, strutting
along beside these and catching in their beaks the
insects as these latter jump into the air, frightened
by the approach of the great quadruped.

The beautiful white cattle egrets {Bubulcus coro-
mandus) in a similar way make buffaloes and kine
act as their beaters.

The familiar king crow {Dicrurus ater) adopts two
methods of insect-catching. The one he favours most
is that of the fly-catcher. Sometimes, however, he
attaches himself to a flock of mynas. In such cases
he flies to the van of the flock and squats on the
ground, regardless of the fact that by so doing his
beautiful forked tail gets dusty. As the mynas ap-
proach, snatching up grasshoppers, they put up a
number of flying insects, and these the king crow
secures on the wing. As soon as the last of the mynas
has passed by the king crow again flies to the van and
repeats the performance.

In India almost every company of mynas has its

I90 JUNGLE FOLK

attendant king crow. Usually the two species are on
good terms, but sometimes the king crow gets ** above
himself," and then there is trouble. The other day I
saw a bank myna {Acridotheres fuscus) hop on to a
king crow's back and administer unto him chastise-
ment in the shape of a couple of vigorous pecks
on the back of the head. On being released the
king crow did not attempt to retaliate, but flew meekly
away.

Among the elite of the insect-hunters we must
number the swifts. Strange birds are these. Not once
in their lives do they set foot upon the ground. For
hours at a time they pursue their speedy course
through the thin air, snatching up, as they move at
full speed, minute insects.

But even their powerful pinions cannot vibrate for
ever, so at intervals they betake themselves to the
verandah of some bungalow, and there hang on to the
wall close under the roof. Their claws are simply hooks,
and this is their rest — clinging to a smooth horizontal
wall !

So long is the list of insect-hunters, and so varied
are their methods, that I am unable to so much as
mention many of them. I must content myself, in
conclusion, with noticing the tits, cuckoo-shrikes,
minivets, and white-eyes, which flit from leaf to leaf,
picking up tiny insects ; babblers and laughing
thrushes, which spend the day rummaging among
fallen leaves for insects ; nuthatches and tree-creepers,
which run up and down tree-trunks on the hunt for
insects ; and woodpeckers, which seize, by means of

INSECT HUNTERS 191

their sticky tongue, the insects they have, by a series
of vigorous taps, frightened from their hiding-places
in the bark.

Consider these, and you cannot but be impressed
with the trials and troubles of an insect's life !

XXXIV

THE ROSY STARLING

EVERY Anglo-Indian is acquainted with the
rose-coloured starling {Pastor roseus), al-
though some may not know what to call it.
Nevertheless, it is a bird of many aliases ; to
wit, the rosy pastor, the tillyer, the cholum bird, the
jowaree bird, the mulberry bird, the locust-eater, the
golabi maina. The head, neck, breast, wings, and tail
are glossy black, while the remainder of the plumage
is a pale salmon or faint rose-colour. The older the
bird the more rosy it becomes, but the great majority
are pale salmon, rather than pink.

Rose-coloured starlings are sociable birds. They
go about in large companies, which sometimes
number several thousand individuals. They are
cold-weather visitors to India, spreading themselves
all over the peninsula, being most abundant in the
Deccan. In the north straggling flocks occur through-
out the winter, but it is in April that they are
seen in their thousands, preparatory to leaving
the country for breeding purposes. These great
gatherings tarry for a short time in Northern India
while the mulberries and various grain crops are

192

THE ROSY STARLING 193

ripening. The}^ seem to subsist chiefly upon these,
whence some of their popular names, and the mahce
which the farmer bears them. They are undoubtedly
a very great scourge to the latter, but they are not
an unmixed pest, for they are said to devour locusts
with avidity when the opportunity presents itself.
Now, the slaying of a locust is a work of merit which
ought to neutralise a multitude of sins.

The rosy starlings which occur in India are said to
nest in Asia Minor. This may be so, but I am inclined
to think that there must be some breeding-grounds
nearer at hand, for these birds have been observed
in India as late as July, and they are back with us
again in September. To travel to Asia Minor, con-
struct nests, lay eggs, hatch these out, rear up the
young, and return to India with them, all within the
space of two months, is an almost impossible feat. It
is, of course, probable that the birds which remain in
India so late as July do not return as early as September.

The large flocks of rosy starlings are quite a
feature of spring in Northern India. On the principle
that many hands make light work, a company of these
birds experiences no difficulty in speedily thinning a
crop of ripening corn. The starlings feed chiefly in
the morning and before sunset. During the heat of
the day they usually take a long rest, a habit for which
the crop-watchers ought to be very thankful. When
not feeding, rosy starlings usually congregate in
hundreds in lofty trees which are almost bare of
foliage. They then look like dried leaves. I have
spoken of this as a rest, which is not strictly accurate.
Q

194 JUNGLE FOLK

They certainly do not feed, but they constantly flit
about from branch to branch, and do a great deal of
feather preening, and, during the whole day, they
give forth a joyful noise. Their note is a sibilant twitter
which is not very loud ; indeed, considering the efforts
put into it, there is remarkably little result, but the
notes are so persistent, and so many birds talk at once,
that they can be heard from afar. The song of the
rosy starling is not musical, not more so than the
" chitter, chitter " of a flock of sparrows at bed-time,
yet it is not displeasing to the ear. There is an exuber-
ance in it which is most attractive. It cannot be
conversational, for all the birds talk at once, and their
notes lack expression and variety. Their clamour is
not unlike the singing of the kettle as it stands on the
hob ; in each case the sound is caused by the letting
off of superfluous energy. Starlings literally bubble
over with animal spirits. There can be no question
as to their enjoyment of life.

Rosy starlings are the favourite game birds of the
natives of Northern India, for they are very good to eat
and easy to shoot. When a thousand of them are
perched in a bare tree, a shot fired into '* the brown "
usually secures a number of victims. It is, therefore,
not difficult to obtain a big bag. Needless to say, the
natives shoot these birds sitting. The way in which
Europeans persist in firing only at flying objects is
utterly incomprehensible to the average Indian ; he
regards it as part of the magnificent madness which is
the mark of every sahib. I once asked a native Shikari
if he had ever fired at a flying bird. He was a gruff

THE ROSY STARLING IQS

old man, and not afraid to express his feelings. He
looked me up and down with eyes filled with withering
contempt, and said " What do you take me for ? Am I
a sahib, that I should waste powder and shot on flying
things ? I never fire unless I think that by so doing
I am likely to bring down at least six birds."

It is impossible to watch a flock of jowaree
birds without being struck by what I may perhaps
term their corporate action, the manner in which
they act in unison, as though they were well-
drilled soldiers obeying the commands of their officer.
This phenomenon is observable in most species of
sociable birds, but, so far as I am aware, no ornitho-
logist, save Mr. Edmund Selous, has paid much
attention to the matter, or attempted to explain it.
To illustrate. A flock of rosy starlings will be sitting
motionless in a tree giving vent to their twittering
notes, when suddenly, without any apparent cause,
the whole flock will take to its wings simultaneously,
as if actuated by one motive, nay, as if it were one
composite individual. Again, a flock will be moving
along at great speed, when suddenly the whole company
will make a half -turn, and continue the flight in another
direction. Yet again, a number of rosy starlings will
be speeding through the air when six or seven of them,
suddenly and simultaneously, change the direction of
their flight, and thus form, as it were, a cross current.
How are we to explain these simultaneous changes of
purpose ? It is not, at any rate, not always, a case of
** follow my leader," for frequently no one individual
moves before the others. In some cases at least the

196 JUNGLE FOLK

change in purpose is not due to any command, no
sound being uttered previous to one of these sudden
impulsive acts. Mr. Selous seeks to explain the
phenomenon by assuming that *' birds, when gathered
together in large numbers, act, not individually, but
collectively, or rather, that they do both one and the
other." According to him, the simultaneous acts in
these cases are the result of thought-transference — a
thought- wave passes through the whole flock.

Some may be inclined to scoff at this theory, but
such will, I think, find it difficult to put forward any
other explanation of the difficulty. As Mr. Selous
points out, it seems " a little curious that language of a
more perfect kind than animals use has been so late
in developing itself, but animals would feel less the
want of a language if thought-transference existed
amongst them to any appreciable extent." Whether
Mr. Selous has hit upon the correct explanation I
hesitate to say. There is, however, no denying the
fact that flocks of birds frequently act with what he
calls ** multitudinous oneness."

XXXV
THE PIED STARLING

WRITING of pied starlings [Sturnopastor
contra) Colonel Cunningham thus de-
Hvers himself : " They are not nearly
such attractive birds as the common
mynas, for their colouring is coarsely laid on in a way
that recalls that of certain of the ornithological inmates
of a Noah's Ark ; their heads have a debased look,
and they have neither the pleasant notes nor the
alluringly familiar ways of their relatives." The above
statement is, in my opinion, nothing short of libel.
There are few living things more charming than pied
mynas. These birds are clothed in black and white.
Now a black and white garment usually looks well
whether worn by a human being or an animal. In
the case of the pied myna, or ablak as the Indians
call it, the black and white are tastefully arranged.
The head, neck, upper breast, back, and tail are
glossy black, save for a large white patch on the
cheek, which extends as a narrow line to the
nape, a white oblique wing bar, and a white rump.
The lower parts are greyish white. The bill is yellow,
of deeper hue at the base than at the tip. I fail

197

ipS JUNGLE FOLK

to see in what way the head of the pied starHng
has a debased look ; it is typical of its family. The
bill, however, is a trifle longer and more slender than
that of the common myna. The statement that pied
mynas have not the pleasant notes of the common
species is the most astounding of a series of astounding
assertions ; as well might a musician complain that the
cathedral organ lacks the fine tones of the street hurdy-
gurdy ! I hke the cheerful " kok, kok, kok, kekky,
kekky " of the common myna. I also enjoy listening
to the harsh cries with which he greets a foe. India
would be a duller country than it is without these
familiar sounds, but I maintain that his most ardent
admirer can scarcely believe the common myna to be
a fine songster. The notes of the pied starling, on the
other hand, although essentially myna-like, are really
musical. Its lay is that of Acridotheres tristis, purified
of all the harshness, with an added touch of melody.
Jerdon, I am glad to notice, speaks of its pleasant
song, and Finn, who knows the bird well, writes in one
place of its beautiful note, and in another says : "It
does not indulge in any set song apparently, but its
voice is very sweet and flute-like, and it appears not
to have any unpleasant notes whatever — a remarkable
peculiarity in any bird, and especially in one of this
family." In Northern India the cheerful melody of
the pied starlings is one of the most pleasing adjuncts
of the countryside.

So jovial a bird is Sturnopastor contra that it is a
great pity that his range is comparatively restricted.
He would be a great acquisition to Madras and Bom-

THE PIED STARLING 199

bay. Unfortunately, the species is not found in South
India, and is almost unknown in the Punjab. Agra is
the most westerly place in which I have seen pied
mynas. In Burma the species is replaced by an allied
form, 5. superciliaris, readily distinguished by the
possession of a white eyebrow. By the way, I should
be very glad if our Wallaceian friends would tell us
why it is necessary to its existence that the Burmese
species should possess a white eyebrow, while the
Indian birds seem to fare excellently without that
ornament.

Except at the nesting season, the habits of pied
starlings are very like those of the other species of
myna. They feed largely on the ground, over which
they strut with myna-like gait — no myna would dream
of losing its dignity to the extent of hopping. They
feed largely on insects, but will also eat fruit. They
do not, as a rule, gather together in such large com-
panies as most kinds of starling, but in places where
pied mynas exist two of them, at least, usually attach
themselves to each flock of the common species.

I am inclined to think that Sturnopastors pair for
life, but that does not prevent them from performing
the antics of courtship at the nesting season. This is
a fact of some importance, for if birds that are mated
for life indulge every year in what we call courtship,
it is obvious that the commonly accepted explanation
of the meanings of the antics of birds at the breeding
season is a mistaken one. The accepted interpretation
of these facts is that the cocks deliberately set them-
selves to ** kill the girls," and to this end cut mad

200 JUNGLE FOLK

capers and perform the other absurdities that charac-
terise the amorous swain. I incHne to the view that,
although birds select their mates, the songs and the
dances and the displays of the males are not so much
attempts to captivate the females as expressions of the
superabundant energy that literally bubbles over at
the breeding season. A ruff when courting is obviously
as mad as the proverbial hatter : he will display
all his splendours as readily to a stone as to a reeve.
At the season of love-making one frequently sees one
pied myna — presumably a cock — puff out his feathers
and inflate his throat, and then strut after another bird
just as the little brown dove {Turtur ca^nbayensis) does
when on matrimony intent. At another phase of the
courtship of the pied mynas two birds will sit, side by
side, on a perch and bow and sing to one another just
as king crows {Dicrums ater) do.

Most species of myna breed early in the hot weather,
but the pied mynas invariably wait until the first rain
has fallen before the}^ set about the work of nest-
building. Colonel Cunningham suggests that the reason
for this peculiarity of the pied starling is that, as it
does not nestle in a hole but builds in a tree, it requires
the green leaves coaxed forth by the rain as a protec-
tion to its nest. If the nursery of the pied myna were
a neatly constructed cup, something might be said
for this idea, but no amount of foliage could hide from
view the huge mass of straw and rubbish that does
duty for the nest of this species. Pied mynas rely on
their pugnacity, and not on concealment, for the pro-
tection of the nest. A hst of the various materials

THE PIED STARLING 201

utilised by nesting Sturnopastors would include almost
every inanimate object which is both portable and
pliable ; feathers, rags, twigs, moss, grass, leaves, paper,
bits of string, rope and cotton, hay and portions of skin
cast off by snakes, are the materials most commonly
employed. The nest is not, as a rule, placed very high
up. Sometimes it is situated in quite a low tree. Once
when visiting the gaol at Gonda in the rains I observed
a pair of pied mynas nesting in a solitary tree which
grew in one of the courtyards inside the gaol walls.
Like most of its kind, the pied starling displays little
fear of man. The eggs of this species are a beautiful
pale blue. Blue is the hue of the eggs of all species of
myna. The fact that, notwithstanding its open nest,
the eggs of the pied myna do not differ in colour from
those of its brethren which nestle in holes, is one of the
facts that the field naturalist comes across daily which
demonstrate how hopelessly wrong is the Wallaceian
view of the meaning of the colours of birds' eggs.

XXXVI
A BIRD OF THE OPEN PLAIN

IT is the fashion for modern writers of books
on ornithology to divide birds according to the
locaHties they frequent, into birds of the
garden, birds of the wood, birds of the meadow,
birds of the waterside, etc. The chief drawback to
such a system of classification, which is intended to
simplify identification, is that most birds decline to
limit themselves to any particular locality.

There are, however, some species which are so
constant in their habits as to render it possible to lay
down the law regarding them and to assert with con-
fidence where they will be found. Of such are the
finch-larks. I have never seen a finch-lark anywhere
but on an open uncultivated plain or in fields that
happen to be devoid of crops.

Any person living in India may be tolerably certain
of making the acquaintance of the ashy-crowned finch-
lark {Pyrrhulauda grisea) by repairing to the nearest
open space outside municipal limits.

The finch-lark is a dumpy, short-tailed bird, con-
siderably smaller than a sparrow. Having no bright
colours in its plumage, it is not much to look at, but

202

A BIRD OF THE OPEN PLAIN 203

it makes up by its powers of flight for that which
it lacks in form and colour.

The iinch-larks found in India fall into two genera,
each of which is composed of two species.

The commonest species is that mentioned above —
the ashy-crowned or, as Jerdon calls it, the black-
bellied finch-lark.

In the genus Pyrrhiilauda the sexes differ much in
appearance, while in the allied genus, Ammomancs, the
cock is indistinguishable from the hen.

As the habits of these two genera are alike in all
respects, they afford an instance of the futility of
attempting, as some do, to account for the phenomenon
of sexual dimorphism by alleging that the habits of the
dimorphic species differ from those of the mono-
morphic species. When species A lives in the same
locality as species B, nests at the same season, builds
the same kind of nest, and when both feed and fly in
the same manner, it should be obvious to every
person not obsessed by a pet theory that natural
selection cannot have had much to do with the fact
that, whereas in species A the sexes are alike, in
species B they differ. But, as we shall see, finch-larks
would almost seem to have been created expressly to
upset present-day zoological theories.

Well might one say to the indoor naturalist, who
sits in his chair and theorises, "Go to the finch-lark,
thou sluggard, consider her ways, and be wise."

The cock Pyrrhulauda grisea is an ash-coloured
bird with a short brown tail, and very dark brown,
practically black, chin, breast, and abdomen. The

204 JUNGLE FOLK

cheeks are whitish, as are the sides of the body ; but
these are separated by a black bar, so that the bird
has stamped on its breast a black cross. There is also
a black or very dark brown bar that runs from the
chin through the eye. The hen is an earthy-brown
bird, the plumage being tinged with grey above and
reddish below. There is nothing peculiar in her
colouring. But for her size, she might pass for a hen
sparrow. The colouring of the cock, however, is very
remarkable. Almost every bird in existence, which is
not uniformly coloured, is of a much lighter hue below
than above. In the cock finch-lark this relation is
reversed. I cannot call to mind any other Indian bird,
unless it be the cock brown-backed robin (Thamnobia
cambaiensis) , in which this phenomenon occurs. More-
over, the arrangement of colour — dark above and pale
below — is not confined to birds,but runs through nearly
the whole of the animal kingdom. So much so that
Mr. Thayer asserts that the phenomenon is a striking
example of protective colouration. The fact that a
bird or mammal is darker in hue above than below
renders it less conspicuous than it would be were it
coloured alike all over, since the pale under parts tend
to counteract the effects of Hght and shade. A few
creatures, as, for example, the skunk in America, are
darker below than above. These are usually cited
as examples of warning colouration. The skunk, as
everyone knows, is able when attacked to eject a very
foetid and blinding excretion, so that very few animals
prey upon it. Consequently, the light-coloured back
and the erect tail are supposed to act as danger signals

A BIRD OF THE OPEN PLAIN 205

to its fellow-creatures. However, there are a number
of nocturnal mammals, such as our Indian ratel
[Mellivora indica), of which the fur is light-coloured
above and dark below^ These cannot be examples
of warning colouration. The same must be said of
the inoffensive little finch-lark, with its dark under
parts.

The fact that there exist so few creatures of which
the under parts are of darker hue than the upper
parts must, I think, be attributed to two causes. The
first is that few species ever vary in that manner ; the
tendency is all the other way. The second is that such
rare variations, when they do occur, are in most cases
not conducive to the welfare of the individual, since
they tend to make it conspicuous to its foes or its
quarry. In certain cases, however, as in that of crea-
tures like the shunk, which are not preyed upon, or that
of nocturnal animals, the possession of dark under
parts does not affect the chances of the possessor in
the struggle for existence. So this variation has not
been eliminated by natural selection. This, I believe,
is the case with the finch-lark. The bird has very
short legs, so that when it is on the ground its black
under parts are scarcely visible even to a human being
walking on the ground, and certainly would not be seen
by a bird of prey flying overhead. My experience is
that the cock finch-lark is not more conspicuous than
the hen. Both, when they alight on a ploughed field,
are lost to human sight until they move.

I believe finch-larks feed exclusively on the ground.
I have not seen one perch in a tree. What they hve

2o6 JUNGLE FOLK

vipon I do not know. The books do not tell us, and I
have never had the heart to shoot one of these small
birds in order to find out. But whatever their food
consists of, the search for it leaves finch-larks plenty
of leisure, much of which they spend after the manner
of the skylark clan. Suddenly one of these birds will
jump into the air, and rise almost perpendicularly by
vigorous flappings of its powerful little wings. Having
reached an altitude of from twenty to forty feet, its
habit is to close its pinions and drop, head foremost,
like a stone. Just before it reaches the ground, it
checks its flight and again soars upwards. Often while
disporting themselves in the air these birds display
strange antics, twisting and turning about much as the
common fly does. After amusing themselves for some
time in this manner, the pair will take to their wings
in real earnest, and fly off to a spot a quarter of a mile
or more away, and there drop to the ground and begin
feeding.

Finch-larks, like skylarks, nest on the ground.
According to Hume, they have two broods, one in
February or March, and the other in July or August.
The nest, which consists of a small pad of dried grass
and fibres, is usually placed in some depression on the
ground ; a hoof-print is considered an especially suit-
able site. As the bird sits very close, the nest is not
easy to find. But when flushed the hen generally
flies straight off the nest without first running along
the ground ; thus, if the spot from which the bird gets
up be carefully marked, the nest ought to be found
without much difficulty.

A BIRD OF THE OPEN PLAIN 207

Finch-larks sometimes entertain queer notions as to
what constitutes a desirable nesting site. At Futteh-
garh Mr. A. Anderson once found a nest ** in the
centre of a lump of cow-dung, which must have been
quite fresh when some cow or bullock * put its foot in
it.' " ** As the foot-print," writes Mr. Anderson, " had
not gone right through to the ground, I was enabled
to remove the lump of dung without in any way hurt-
ing the nest. White ants had left their marks all over
the dry dung, so that detection was almost impossible :
it was altogether the most artfully concealed nest I
have ever seen." Scarcely less objectionable, from the
human point of view, was the site of the finch-lark's
nest found at Etawah by Hume, namely, on the
railway line, amongst the ballast between the rails.
*' When we think," says Hume, ** of the terrible heat
glowing from the bottom of the engine, the perpetual
dusting out of red-hot cinders, it seems marvellous
how the bird could have maintained her situation."
Verily, there is no accounting for taste ! Two eggs
are laid, which are like miniature lark's eggs.

The other species of finch-lark found in South India
is Ammomanes phcenicura, the rufous-tailed finch-lark.
This, as its name indicates, has a reddish tail. The
rest of the plumage is brown. The sexes are alike. Its
habits are those of the ashy-crowned species. I have
not observed it in the vicinity of Madras.

XXXVII

BIRDS IN THE COTTON TREE

LACK of green grass and the paucity of wild
flowers are the chief of the causes which
J render the scenery of the plains of India so
unlike that of the British Isles. India, not
being blessed with frequent showers, the sine qua non
of flower-decked, verdant meadows, has to be content
with a xerophilous flora. But there is in this country
some compensation for the lack of flowers of the field
in the shape of flowering shrubs and trees. Among the
most conspicuous of these is the cotton tree (Bombax
malaharicum) . This tree is not an evergreen. It loses
its leaves in winter, and before the new foliage appears
the flowers burst forth — these may be bright red
or golden yellow. As they are larger than a man's
fist, and appear while the branches are yet bare, a
cotton tree in flower is a very conspicuous and beau-
tiful object. But it is of the feathered folk that visit
this tree that I would write, not of the splendour of
its blossom. Even before the March sun has risen and
commenced to dispel the pleasant coolness of the night
the cotton tree is the scene of riot and revelry. Through-
out the morning hours, as the burning sun mounts
higher and higher in the hard blue sky, the revelry

208

BIRDS IN THE COTTON TREE 209

continues. It may, perhaps, cease for a time during
the first two hours after noon, when the wind blows
like a blast from a titanic furnace. But it soon
recommences, and not imtil the sun has set in a dusty
haze, and the harsh clamours of the spotted owlets
(Athene hrama) are heard, does the noisy assembly of
brawlers leave the tree in peace.

The cause of all the revelry is this. The nectar
which the great red flowers secrete is to certain birds
what absinthe is to some Frenchmen. First and fore-
most, amongst the votaries of the silk-cotton tree
are the rose-coloured starlings [Pastor roseus). During
the winter months these birds are not a conspicuous
feature of the India avifauna, for they do not then go
about in great flocks. But from the time the cotton
tree is in blossom until the grain crops are cut, the
rosy starlings vie with the crows in obtruding them-
selves upon the notice of human beings in Northern
India. You cannot ride far in the month of March
without hearing these birds. Their clamour is truly
starling-like ; they produce that curious harsh sibilant
sound which is so easy to recognise, but so difficult to
describe, that noise which Edmund Selous calls a
murmuration, and which the countryfolk at home term
a " charm," meaning, as Richard Jefferies expresses it,
" a noise made up of innumerable lesser sounds, each
interfering with the other."

Look in the direction whence the sound issues and a
blaze of scarlet will meet the eye ; it is amid this that
the rosy starlings are calling, for where the silk-cotton
tree is in bloom there are these birds certain to be,
p

210 JUNGLE FOLK

Approach the tree and look carefully into it ; you
will see it thronged with birds, mainly rosy starlings.
Conspicuously arrayed though these birds are, it is
not easy, unless they move, to distinguish them
among the red petals and dark calyces. Pastors that
are not dipping their heads into the red shuttlecock-like
flowers are all either scolding one another or making
a joyful noise. They move about so excitedly and
jostle one another so rudely as to give you the im-
pression that they are somewhat the worse for liquor.
This may not be so. It may be the natural behaviour
of the rosy starlings, for they are always noisy and pug-
nacious. But they seem to be exceptionally so when in
the silk-cotton tree. So eagerly do they plunge their
beaks into the cup-like flowers, that these latter are
frequently knocked off the stalk in the process. This is
especially the case with those flowers that have begun
to fade. The floral envelopes and the stamens of such
are easily detached from the ovary.

The rose-coloured starlings are by no means the only
members of the clan which drink deeply of the nectar
provided by this hospitable tree. Among the mob of
brawlers are to be seen the common, the bank, and the
Brahminy mynas, but there is this difference between
these latter and their rose-coloured brethren ; the
former are only occasional visitors to the tree. They
are moderate drinkers ; they visit the public-house
perhaps but once in the day, stay there a short time,
and then go about their business. The rosy starlings
carouse throughout the hours of daylight.

Another habitue of the silk-cotton tree is the Indian

BIRDS IN THE COTTON TREE 211

tree-pie {Dendrocitta rufa), the nearest approach we
have to the magpie in the plains of India. His long
tail and general shape at once stamp him as a magpie,
but his colouring is, of course, very different ; in
place of a simple garment of black and white he exhibits
black, chestnut-brown, silver, white, and yellow in his
coat of many hues. You are not likely to see a crowd
of tree-pies among the red blossoms, for the simple
reason that the species is not gregarious ; but in all
localities where tree-pies exist you may be tolerably
certain of seeing at least one of these birds at every
flowering cotton tree. Tree-pies, be it noted, although
widely spread in India, are apparently very capriciously
distributed. For some reason which I have not been
able to fathom they occur in the neighbourhood of
neither Madras nor Bombay.

Needless to say, the crows join in the drinking bout.
The corvi rarely wander far from the path of the
transgressor. Fortunately for the starlings, the crows
are not passionately fond of the secretion of the Bombax
flowers. Did these last exercise so great an attraction
for the crows as they do for starlings, the smaller birds
would be crowded out by their larger rivals, and the
Bombax tree would be black with squawking corvi.
The crow drinks the nectar of the cotton tree as a
man drinks liqueurs ; the result is that rarely more
than two or three crows are to be seen among the
scores of starlings and mynas. The flowing bowl seems
to have greater attractions for the corby {Corvus macro-
rhynchiis) than for the house crow (C. splendens) ; but
there is a reason which prevents the too frequent

212 JUNGLE FOLK

visiting of the silk-cotton tree by the corbies, namely,
that it comes into flower in March, which happens to
be the nesting season of those birds.

The above seven species are, so far as my observation
goes, the only birds that make a habit of drinking at
the blossom of the cotton tree. It would thus appear
that the nectar has a very pronounced taste, and that,
in consequence, birds either like it intensely or posi-
tively dislike it.

" Eha," I am aware, states that many other birds
frequent the cotton tree, for the sake of its good cheer,
" the king crow, and even the temperate bulbul and
demure coppersmith, and many another, and, here and
there, a palm squirrel, taking his drink with the rest
like a foreigner." But did not ** Eha " mistake the
purpose for which these creatures visit the silk-cotton
tree ? A bird may be present without taking part in
the revelry. The other day I was watching all the fun
at one of these trees when suddenly a little copper-
smith [Xantholcema hcematocephala) came and perched
on one of the bare spiny branches. He sat there
motionless, as out of place as a Quaker would among
a mob of bookmakers. Suddenly a rosy starling
hustled him off his perch. But the coppersmith did not
fly away ; he merely hopped on to another branch, and
then suddenly performed the vanishing trick. Had
I not been watching him very closely I could almost
have persuaded myself that he had melted into thin
air. As it was, I saw him dive into a round opening —
scarcely the size of a rupee — about two inches from the
broken end of a dead branch, not as thick as a woman's

BIRDS IN THE COTTON TREE 213

wrist, at the very summit of the tree. The circular
opening in question had been neatly cut by the copper-
smith and its mate, and led to a hollow in which three
white eggs were doubtless lying. These and not the
nectar-bearing flowers were the attraction for the
coppersmith.

XXXVIII
UGLY DUCKLINGS

SOME people invariably look untidy. They seem
to be nature's misfits. All the skill of the
tailor, all the art of the miUiner, can make them
nothing else. No matter how well-cut their
garments be, these always hang about them in a
ridiculous, uncouth manner. If the individual be a
man, the upper part of his collar seems to exercise an
irresistible attraction for his tie ; if a woman, she
presents an unfinished appearance about the waist,
as often as not displaying an ugly hiatus in that region.
Similar creatures are to be found among the beasts of
the field and the birds of the air. There exist not a
few feathered things whose plumage usually looks
as though a thorough spring-cleaning, followed by a
" wash and brush-up," would do it a world of good.
Chief among these are our well-known friends the
babbler thrushes, alias the seven sisters, or seven
brothers, as some will have it.

Like most human beings who are careless of their
personal appearance, these birds possess many good
qualities. First and foremost of these is the love which
they show one to another. They are brotherly affection

214

UGLY DUCKLINGS 215

personified. Except for a very rare squabble over a
tempting piece of food, the harmony of the brother-
hood is never broken. What more striking testimony
to this admirable quality can be offered than the
popular designation of the bird ? It is always one of
seven ; there is no word whereby the man in the street
may express an individual alone without his comrades.
Nor, indeed, does he require such a term, for it is
impossible to think of the bird otherwise than as one
of a company. Has anyone ever seen brother Number
One, or brother Number Two, or brother any other
number alone ? I trow not. These birds invariably
hunt in little societies ; usually eight or ten elect to
fight the battle of hfe shoulder to shoulder, and a
very good fight they appear to make of it, if we
may judge by their wide distribution and contented
faces.

While upon the subject of the bird's name it is as
well to have the usual hit at the ornithologist. Just
as the popular name is appropriate, so is the scientific
one ridiculous. Crater opus canorus is a strange name
for a bird whose note is a cross between the creak of a
door with a rusty hinge and the squeak of a cart-
wheel of which the axle needs oiling. Nature, by way
of compensation, often endows a sombre-plumaged
bird with a sweet voice, and keeps down the pride of a
gorgeous fowl by ordaining that its voice shall be a
hoarse croak. To the seven brothers, however, the
wise dame has given two wooden spoons. Their raucous
voice is in keeping with their dull plumage. When
the honest little company are merely whispering

2i6 JUNGLE FOLK

sweet nothings one to another, the stranger un-
acquainted with their habits is apt to think that they
are angrily squabbhng, and that bloodshed must
inevitably follow. Such is the voice of the bird yclept
" canorus " by the ornithologist.

Linnaeus appears to have given this species this name
under the impression that it was the Indian equivalent
of our English thrush, that it sat in mango trees and
warbled most sweetly.

Hodgson made a gallant attempt to give the species
the more appropriate name " terricollor," but he
laboured in vain. The tyranny of the priority rule
proved too much for him.

Ornithological pubHc opinion has decreed that as
regards the specific names of birds the race is to the
swift : the first name hurled at a bird, no matter
how inappropriate, is to be retained. This rule was
made in the hope of introducing some sort of order into
the chaos of ornithological terminology. But, far from
effecting this, it has called into existence a race of
ornithological pettifoggers, who spend their time in
rummaging about in hbraries in the hope of dis-
covering that some bird bears a name which was not
the first to be given it. Such a discovery means another
change in ornithological terminology. This is provo-
cative of much unparhamentary language on the
part of the naturalist, but gives the priority-hunter
unalloyed pleasure.

Is it necessary for me to describe these misnamed
babblers ? Who is not famihar with the untidy
creature, with his dirty-looking brownish-grey plumage,

UGLY DUCKLINGS 217

relieved by a yellow beak and a white, wicked eye ?
Who has not laughed at the drooping wings, the
ruffled feathers, and the disreputable tail of the birds ?
Yet the seven brothers lead happy, contented lives.
They have always company, and plenty to occupy
their minds. They are numbered among those who
despise not small things : no insect is too tiny, no
beetle too infinitesimal, no creeping thing too in-
significant, to be eaten by these birds, so the little
company of friends hops together along the ground
from tree to tree, from shrub to shrub, searching every
nook and cranny, turning over every fallen leaf in the
most methodical way, seizing with alacrity everything
it comes across in the shape of food. During the search
for food the chattering never ceases. Now and again
the birds will take to a tree and hop about its branches,
talking louder than ever. In the early morning, before
the air has lost its first crispness, they delight to play
about the trees, flying in a crowd from one to another.
Again, in the evening, just before bedtime, they love
to gambol among the branches and jostle one another
in the most good-tempered way.

These birds have adopted the motto of the French
Republic, and they practise what they preach. Liberty,
equality, and fraternity are theirs. They form a true
republic, a successful one because of the smallness of
its numbers. What bird is so free as our seven
brothers ? They are not hedged in by the conventions
of dress. " Eha " says that they remind him of " old
Jones, who passes the day in his pyjamas." Is this not
the acme of freedom ? They squeak, croak, hop, and

2i8 JUNGLE FOLK

fly where they Hst ; well might they be enrolled in the
Yellow Ribbon Army, that noble band who eat what
they like, drink what they like, say what they like,
and do what they like.

Of the fraternity of the little society we have already
spoken. Of their equality there can be no room for
doubt. They have no leader. Now brother Number
Two, now brother Number Five moves on first, to be
followed by his comrades. They seem all to fall in with
the views of whoever for the moment takes the lead.
There is much to be said for this form of life. It makes
the birds, who are individually weak, bold. They have
often hopped about outside my tent, jumping on to the
ropes, and seeking food within a couple of inches of the
chik on the other side of which I was standing. They
seem to court the company of man. It is in the com-
pound rather than the jungle that they abound. If one
of the little company be attacked by a more powerful
bird, his comrades come at once to his assistance.
Some naturalists declare that they will go so far as to
attack a sparrow-hawk, others say they will not.
Probably both are right. All men are not equally
brave, nor are all babbler thrushes equally bold. Even
the bravest species has to confess to a Bob Acres or
two. As a matter of fact, the brotherhood is not
afforded many opportunities of displaying its valour,
for it is rarely attacked. Birds of prey know better
than to molest social birds ; they are aware of the fact
that it is difficult to elude sixteen or twenty watchful
eyes, and even if this feat be accomplished there is
always the fear of a stout resistance. The babbler

UGLY DUCKLINGS 219

thrushes recall the good old days of ancient Rome
when all were for the State and none for a party.

The seven brothers are as indifferent to the appear-
ance of their home as to that of their persons. The
nest they construct is a rude structure, but some
species of cuckoo think it quite good enough to lay
eggs in.

XXXIX
BABBLER BROTHERHOODS

THE Crateropus babblers, known variously
as the Sath Bhai, seven sisters, or dirt
birds, furnish perfect examples of com-
munal life. So highly developed are their
social instincts that a solitary babbler, or even a pair,
is a very unusual sight. They do not congregate in
large flocks ; from six to fourteen usually constitute
a brotherhood, eight, nine, or ten being, perhaps, the
commonest numbers. There is no truth in the popular
idea that they always go about in flocks of seven. Sir
Edwin Arnold recognised this when he wrote of " the
nine brown sisters chattering in the thorn."

Notwithstanding the fact that babblers are among
the commonest birds in India, there is much to be
discovered regarding the nature of their flocks. The
raison d'etre of these flocks is not far to seek. One has
but to observe the laboured flight of a babbler to
appreciate how easy a mark he is to a bird of prey.
The strength of the babbler lies in his clan. Eight or
ten pairs of eyes are superior to one. A party of seven
sisters is not often caught napping. The incessant
squeaking, and screeching, and wheezing indulged in

BABBLER BROTHERHOODS 221

by each member keep them all in touch with one
another. Then, in time of danger, it is good to see how
they combine to drive off the hawk-cuckoo {Hierococcyx
varius) which victimises them, and which they un-
doubtedly mistake for a species of raptorial bird.

But their clannishness does not shelter them from
all tribulation. They are the dupes of the hawk-
cuckoo, and they sometimes fall victims to birds of
prey. A few weeks ago I had occasion to visit a friend,
who was unwell and confined to his bungalow. I found
him sitting in the verandah. While greeting him I
heard a great clamour of scolding babblers (Crateropus
canorus) emanating from a neem tree hard by. I had
come just too late to witness a little jungle tragedy.
There was a babbler's nest containing young in that
tree. A pair of rascally crows had discovered the nest,
and one of them attacked it ; the babbler in charge,
with splendid courage, went out to meet his big
antagonist, who promptly turned tail and fled, pursued
by the screeching babbler. This left the nest open to
the other crow, who carried off a young bird. When I
arrived, the victims of the outrage were swearing as
only babblers and bargees can, and making feints at
the crows.

It is thus obvious why these clubs, or brotherhoods,
have been formed, but we are almost altogether in the
dark as to how they are formed, as to their nature and
constitution. We do not even know what it is that
keeps them apparently so constant in size. It is even
a disputed point whether these little companies persist
throughout the year, or disband at the nesting season.

222 JUNGLE FOLK

As to the nature of the companies. Colonel Cunningham
maintains that they are family parties. This view is,
however, untenable, unless we assume that the seven
sisters are polygamists or polyandrists, because three
or four is the normal number of eggs laid, so that if each
little gathering were a family party, it should consist
of not more than six members. The flocks are too
large to be made up of mother, father, and children,
and usually too small to be two such families.

There is at present living in the compound of the
Allahabad Club a company consisting of, I think, eight
babblers. Seven are adults, and one is quite a child.
This last goes about with its elders, every now and again
flapping its wings, opening wide its yellow mouth, and
calling for food. A day or two ago it took up a position
within a few feet of my door, so that I was able to
watch it closely through the chik. I saw one of the
company come up with a grub in its bill, which it,
with due ceremony, put into the young bird's " yellow
lane." Having fed the youngster, it began rummaging
about in the grass near by. Shortly afterwards a second
babbler came up to the young one, bringing a cater-
pillar. This particular individual carried his (or her,
for I don't pretend to be able to sex a babbler at sight)
tail askew. That organ protruded from under the left
wing, instead of projecting between the wings, as is
usual with tails — babblers, Hke actors and artists,
affect a careless style of dress. Having delivered up
its caterpillar to the clamorous youngster, it hopped
away. I kept my eye carefully upon both it and the
bird I had first seen bring food. In a few seconds

BABBLER BROTHERHOODS 223

a third babbler came up and presented a caterpillar
to the baby brown sister. Now, I submit that this
can only mean that babblers are not monogamous,
or that they nest in common sometimes, or, so close
are the ties that bind the members of the little company
that each feeds both his own offspring and those of his
brethren. Personally, I am inclined to think that
babblers are monogamous. That the same nest is some-
times used by more than one pair seems to be estab-
lished by the fact that there are cases on record of
nests containing as many as eight eggs, or young ones.
This, however, is not a usual occurrence, and it is
my belief that the members of the club are so greatly
attached to one another that they look upon each
infant as common property. Hume quotes Mr. A.
Anderson as sa^dng : ** During the months of Sep-
tember and October I have observed several babblers
in the act of feeding one young Hierococcyx varius (the
brain-fever bird or hawk-cuckoo, which, as we have
seen, is parasitic on babblers) following the bird from
tree to tree, and being most assiduous in their atten-
tions to the young interloper." This observation, I
submit, supports the view that each member of the
flock takes a personal interest in the offspring of other
members, even though it be spurious !

Thus we may take it that these gatherings are not
family parties, but rather of the nature of clubs.
The question, then, arises : What determines the
membership of these clubs ? At present our knowledge
of the ways of these common birds is not sufficient to
enable us to frame a satisfactory reply. It is even

224 JUNGLE FOLK

an open question whether or not these clubs break up
at the breeding season, or whether the nesting birds
still continue to seek food in company. Colonel
Cunningham declares that during April and May
babblers ** cease to go about in parties, and pairs of
them are everywhere busily occupied in nesting."
Jerdon, on the other hand, states that the parties
persist throughout the breeding season. I feel sure that
Jerdon is right. No matter where one is stationed,
parties of babblers are to be seen at all seasons of the
year. From this, of course, it does not necessarily
follow that the nesting birds do not forsake their
brethren, at any rate for a time. It is probable, nay
certain, that all the members of a flock do not pair and
nest simultaneously. The breeding season extends at
least from March to July. But the fact that there is
quite a baby bird in the babbler brotherhood that
dwells in the compound of the Allahabad Club seems
to indicate that the nesting birds continue to find their
food in company. There is no reason why they should
not, for babblers neither migrate nor wander far afield.
But the question arises : What happens to the young
birds when they are grown up ? If they attached
themselves to the existing flocks, these would tend to
increase in size, and sometimes, at any rate, we should
see an enormous assembly. So far as one's casual
observation goes, the flocks keep constant in number
throughout the year. It is, of course, quite possible
that casual observation leads one astray in this case.
Any person interested in the subject, who has a more
or less fixed abode, would do some service to orni-

BABBLER BROTHERHOODS 225

thology if he would make a point of looking out for
babbler clubs, and endeavouring to count the members
of each, and keep a record of the results, with the
date of each census. I am aware that it is not easy to
count accurately a babbler club, for its members are
always on the move, and odd birds are apt to pop out
of unexpected places. But even rough figures, if they
extended to a number of flocks, would, being all liable
to the same error, prove fairly accurate as regards
averages. Such observations, if they were to extend
over a year, might lead to some interesting results.
They would almost certainly show a reduction of
numbers during the summer months, when nesting
operations were in progress, but would this be followed
by a considerable rise later in the year ? If so, it
would seem to indicate that some, at any rate, of the
young ones attached themselves permanently to the
flock in which they were born.

A somewhat more elaborate experiment which might
yield interesting results would be to trap a whole
" school " of babblers ; they might be captured while
asleep. After a piece of coloured material had been
tied round the leg of each, every bird being decorated
by a different colour, the irate sisters would be restored
to liberty. Then it might be possible to follow the
fortunes of each separate bird, and learn whether a
given flock is always made up of the same individuals,
whether they practise exogamy or favour endogamy,
and a hundred and one other interesting facts relating
to the vie inthne of the brown sisters. I use the
word " might " advisedly. For alas ! bitter experience

226 JUNGLE FOLK

has taught me that, more often than not, the most
cunningly devised ornithological experiments yield no
definite results. It is quite possible that the club of
babblers thus captured and decorated with gay colours
might flee from the neighbourhood in wrath and terror.
The birds would not understand the why and the
wherefore of the proceeding, and might, perhaps, think
that you were going to make a practice of catching
them every night and tjdng things round their limbs.
A bird whose leg has been pulled once is apt to be
twice shy.

XL
THE MAD BABBLER

THE seven sisters (Crateroptis canorus), which
occur in every garden in India, are veritable
Punchinellos, so much so that schoolboys
in the Punjab always call them " mad
birds." But nature is not content with having pro-
duced these. So readily does the babbler clan lend
itself to the humoresque, that from it has been evolved
the large grey babbler {Argya malcomi), a species even
more comic than the noisy sisterhood. This is the
Verri chinda, the mad babbler of the Telugu-speaking
people. Pull the tail out of one of the seven sisters,
and insert in its place another, half as long again, with
the outer feathers of conspicuously lighter hue than
the median ones, then brush up the plumage of the
converted sister, and you will have effected a trans-
mutation of species, turned a jungle babbler into
a large grey one. This latter species has a wide range,
but is capricious in its distribution. It does not, I
believe, occur in the neighbourhood of the city of
Madras, but is abundant in some parts of South India.
The habits of this species seem to vary with the
locahty. In the south it appears to shun the madding

227

228 JUNGLE FOLK

crowd ; in the north it frequents gardens and loves to
disport itself in the middle of the road, and is in no
hurry to get out of the way of the pedestrian or the
cyclist. Probably many a large babbler has, owing
to its tameness, succumbed to the motor-car. Bold
spirits, such as the little striped squirrel, which take
a positive delight in experiencing a series of hair-
breadth escapes, suffer considerably when a new and
speedier conveyance is introduced into a locality.
They have learned by experience how close to the
inch they may with safety allow the ordinary vehicle
to approach before they skedaddle, and it takes time
for them to discover that with a speedier vehicle a
larger margin must be allowed. The little Indian
squirrel has not yet learned to gauge the pace of the
motor-car. Recently I counted five of their corpses on
the road between Agra and Fatehpur Sikri, which is
much frequented by motor-cars.

The Sath Bhai are usually accounted noisy birds, but
they are taciturn in comparison with their long-tailed
cousins. From dewy morn till dusty eve the large
grey babblers vie with the crows in their vocal efforts.
The crows score at the beginning of the day, for they
are the first to awake, or, at any rate, to begin calling.
The king crow [Dicrunis ater) is usually said to be the
first bird to herald the cheerful dawn. This is not
always so ; the voice of Corvus splendens sometimes pre-
cedes that of the king crow. But ere the sun has
shown his face the grey babblers join vociferously in
the chorus that fills the welkin. And how shall I
describe the notes of these light-headed birds so as

THE MAD BABBLER 229

to convey an adequate idea of them to those who have
not heard with their own ears ? I ought to be able
to do so, for Allahabad, where I am now stationed, is the
head-quarters of the clan of large grey babblers. Argya
malcomi are to that city what the Macphersons are to
Inverness-shire. You cannot avoid them. The sound
of their voices is never out of my ears during the hours
of daylight. Some of them are shouting at me even
now. Yet words to describe what I hear fail me. The
only instrument made by man that can rival the call
of the mad babbler is the '' rattle " used at our English
Universities, or at any rate at Cambridge, to en-
courage the oarsmen in the Lent or May races. It is
the delight of two of these birds each to take up a
position at the summit of a tree and for one to com-
mence calling. He bellows till his breath runs short ;
then his neighbour takes up the refrain — I mean, hulla-
baloo— and, ere number two has ceased, number one,
having recovered breath, chimes in. In addition to this
rattle-like call the grey babblers emit a more mellow
note, which is well described by Jerdon as " Quey,
quey, quey, quo, quo," pronounced gutturally. Occa-
sionally one of these extraordinary birds bursts out
into a volley of excited squeaks, like the voice of
Punch as rendered by the showman at the seaside.
This I take to be a cry of alarm. The bird while utter-
ing it careers about madly among the foliage of
a tree, hopping from bough to bough with great
dexterity.

Mad babblers go about, like the seven sisters, in
flocks of ten or twelve, and feed largely on the ground.

230 JUNGLE FOLK

Their mode of progression when not on the wing is by
a series of hops. Their movements are very Hke those
of a thrush on an EngHsh lawn — a dash forward for
about a yard, followed by an abrupt halt. They seem
to subsist chiefly on insects, but grain does not come
amiss to them. In places where they abound, several
of them are usually to be seen in every field of large
millet, each perched at the summit of a stalk eagerly
devouring the ripening grain. When thus occupied
they sometimes forget to call. They are birds of
peculiarly feeble flight. Their tail is long and their
wings are somewhat sketchy, and the result is that they
have to flutter these latter frantically in order to fly
at all. But for the fact that they always keep together
in flocks, even at the nesting season, they would fall
easy victims to birds of prey. Thanks to their clannish-
ness and pluck, they appear to be tolerably immune
from attack. Jerdon says : *' If the Shikra sparrow-
hawk be thrown at them, they defend each other with
great courage, mobbing the hawk and endeavouring
to release the one she has seized." Only yesterday
I saw a party of about a dozen large grey babblers
attack and drive away a couple of black crows (Corvus
macrorhynchus) from a position which the latter had
taken up on the ground. The babblers advanced
slowly in a serried mass, while the corbies remained
motionless watching them. When the front rank of
the babbler posse had advanced to within a foot of the
crows a halt was called, and the adversaries contem-
plated one another in silence for a few seconds. Then
one of the babblers made a lunge at the corby, which

THE MAD BABBLER 231

caused it to take to its wings. Immediately afterwards
the other crow was similarly driven away. While the
babblers were still celebrating their bloodless victory
with a joyful noise, a tree-pie (Dcndrocitta rufa) came
and squatted on the ground near them, evidently
spoiling for a fight. The babblers advanced against
him, this time in open order. On their approach the
pie lunged at a babbler and caused it to retire. But
immediately another babbler made a feint at the tree-
pie, and things were becoming exciting when some-
thing scared away the combatants.

Argya malcomi constructs a nest of the typical
babbler type ; that is to say, a somewhat loosely
woven cup, which is placed, usually not very high
above the ground, in a tree or bush. Nests are most
likely to be found in the rains. The eggs are a beautiful
rich blue — the hue of those of our familiar English
hedge-sparrow (Accentor modularis) — which is so char-
acteristic of babblers.

Like all of us, this happy-go-lucky babbler has its
trials and troubles. It is victimised by that hand-
some, noisy ruffian, the pied crested cuckoo {Coccystis
jacobinus), which deposits in the nest an egg, which is
a first-class counterfeit of that of the babbler. The
feckless babblers sit upon the strange egg until it gives
forth its living contents. The presence of the spurious
child does not greatly perturb the babblers. As we
have seen, the flock does not break up even at the
nesting season. Under such circumstances the whole
flock probably takes part in administering to the young
cuckoo the wherewithal to fill the inner bird, so that on

232 JUNGLE FOLK

the principle " many hands make hght work " the extra
mouth to feed is scarcely noticed. But is it an extra
mouth ? Does the young pied cuckoo eject its foster-
brethren, or do the parents turn out the legitimate

eggs?

XLI
THE YELLOW-EYED BABBLER

THE babbler community embraces a most
heterogeneous collection of birds. Every
Asiatic fowl which does not seem to belong
to any other family is promptly relegated
to the Crateropodidae. Thus it comes to pass that such
dissimilar creatures as the laughing thrushes and the
seven sisters find themselves classed together. Now,
taken as a whole, the babbler class is characterised
neither by beauty nor melodiousness. The best-known
members are the widely distributed seven sisters,
which in many respects are very like those human
babblers who style themselves Labour Members of
Parliament. They are untidy in appearance and ex-
ceedingly nois}^ ; their voices are uncouth, and they
never tire of hearing themselves shout. They are apt
to meddle with affairs that do not concern them. Of
course the Sath Bhai have their good points ; so, I
suppose, have Labour M.P.'s — at any rate when they
are in their natural habitat. When they come to India
and then try to wield the pen — but it is not of human
babblers that I wish to write, nor of the plainly attired,
noisy, avian babblers, for have not the seven sisters
had a double innings already ? Even as some Labour

233

234 JUNGLE FOLK

Members of Parliament wear frock-coats and top hats,
so are there some well-dressed members of the babbler
clan. The yellow-eyed babblers belong to this class ;
and the most widely distributed of these — Pydorhis
sinensis — is the subject of the present discourse. This
bird is, according to Oates, found in every portion of
the Indian Empire up to a height of 5000 feet. As a
matter of fact I have not seen it in or near the city of
Madras, but that, perhaps, was not the fault of the
bird, because we have Jerdon's testimony that he saw
it in every part of South India.

The yellow-eyed babbler is a sprightly little creature
not much larger than a sparrow. Its upper plumage
is a rich reddish brown, changing to cinnamon on some
of the quill feathers. The chin, throat, cheeks, and
breast are as white as snow. The conspicuous orange-
yellow eye is set off by a small white eyebrow. The
abdomen is cream-coloured. The bill is black and the
legs a curious shade of dull yellow. The tail is 3 J inches
long, at least the median feathers thereof are ; the
outer ones are barely two inches in length. This grada-
tion in the size of the caudal feathers is, of course,
visible only when the tail is spread during flight. The
yellow-eyed babblers that inhabit Ceylon differ from
those of the mainland in some unimportan+ details ;
hence systematists, with their usual aptitude for
species-making, call the former Pydorhis nasalis to
distinguish them. In many parts of India the yellow-
eyed babbler is quite a common bird. It is especially
addicted to tall grass and hedgerows, and wiU occa-
sionally enter a garden that is well provided with

THE YELLOW^EYED BABBLER 235

bushes. It is not so clannish as most of its brethren ;
sometimes a small party of six or seven feed in com-
pany, but more often only solitary birds or pairs are
seen. They hop about in and out of small bushes or
on the ground, industriously seeking out the small
beetles and other insects on which they prey. Every
now and then one of these sprightly birds permits itself
a little relaxation in the shape of a sweet melody, which
it composes and pours forth from the summit of a
convenient bush. Its more usual note is described by
Jerdon as "a loud sibilant whistle"; it also utters a
variety of chattering sounds, which proclaim it a true
babbler.

For an Indian bird it is shy ; if it sees that it is
being watched it quickly disappears into cover.

The nest of this species is a veritable work of art.
Its usual form is that of an inverted cone, composed of
dried grass, fibres, or other suitable material very com-
pactly and neatly woven, the whole being plastered
over exteriorly with cobweb, which, as I have said
before, is the cement generally used by bird artisans.
The well-built little nursery is sometimes wedged into
a forked branch of a tree ; more often it will be found
snugly tucked away in a bush. In the Punjab the
nest is very frequently found attached to the stalks
of growing millet, in much the same way as a reed-
warbler's nest is fastened to reeds. The babbler
weaves its nest round a couple of adjacent stalks, so
that these are worked into its walls. A nest which is
thus supported by two stalks is in shape like the cocked
hat worn by a political officer.

236 JUNGLE FOLK

The eggs, which may be looked for at any time
between May and September, are very beautiful. To
describe them in a few words is not easy, because they
exhibit great diversity in colour and markings. This
is one of the hundreds of facts inconsistent with the
orthodox theories of the significance of colour in
organic nature that confront the field naturalist at
every turn. The existence of such facts does not
perturb in the least those theorists who " rule the
roost " in the scientific world. Their attitude is
" our word is law — if facts don't fit in with it, so much
the worse for facts." As Hume points out, three main
types of eggs occur, and there are many combinations
of these types. Of the two types most often seen,
*' one has a pinkish-white ground, thickly and finely
mottled and streaked over the whole surface with more
or less bright and deep brick-dust red, so that the
ground colour only faintly shows through here and
there as a sort of pale mottling ; in the other type the
ground colour is pinkish white somewhat sparingly,
but boldly, blotched with irregular patches and eccen-
tric hieroglyphic-like streaks, often bunting-like in their
character, of bright blood or brick-dust red."

XLII
THE INDIAN SAND-MARTIN

THE Indian sand-martin {Cottle sinensis) is,
I believe, the smallest of the swallow tribe.
So diminutive is he that you could put him
in your watch-pocket, were you so minded,
without fear of damaging his plumage. His charm lies
in his littleness and activity rather than in his colouring,
for he belongs not to the dandies. Neat and quiet
are the adjectives that describe his attire. The head,
shoulders, and back are pale brown tinged with grey.
The wing-feathers are dark brown. The under parts
are white with a touch of grey on the chin and breast.
The sexes dress alike. This description applies equally
well to the sand-martin [Cotile riparia) that nests in
sand-pits in England, for the only differences between
this species, which occurs sparingly in India, and the
Indian form are that the former is a little larger and
possesses a dark necklace.

The feeding habits of sand-martins are those of the
rest of the swallow tribe. They live on minute insects
which they catch on the wing, not, after the manner
of fly-catchers, by making Httle aerial salhes from a
perch, but by careering speedily through the air during

237

238 JUNGLE FOLK

the greater part of the day and seizing every insect
that they meet.

The Indian sand-martin is a species especially dear
to the ornithologist because it nests in winter, when
comparatively few other birds are so occupied. Speak-
ing generally, the cold weather may be said to be the
" silly season " of the bird world.

There is one drawback to India from the point of
view of the ornithologist, and that is the habit of the
great majority of birds of building their nests at the
time when the sun shines forth pitilessly from a
cloudless sky for twelve hours out of the twenty-four,
burning up all vegetation and raising the temperature
of the air to furnace heat. Under such conditions the
pleasure of watching the birds is tempered by the
physical discomfort to which the bird-watcher is put.
Very pleasant, then, is it, after months of excessive
heat, to awake from sleep one morning to find that the
cool weather has come at last, to feel the morning air
blow fresh against the cheek, and to look out on an
earth enveloped in dense mist. Before one's horse is
saddled, the first rays of the sun dissipate the mist
with almost magic suddenness, and then one rides forth
over dew-bejewelled plains of grass. If on such a
morning one repairs to a sand-pit or a river bank, one
is hkely there to meet with a colony of sand-martins,
for it is early in the cold weather that those birds
begin to construct their nests, which are holes bored in
sand-banks by the birds themselves.

Like the majority of very small birds, sand-martins
show but little fear of human beings. Tits, white-eyes.

THE INDIAN SAND-MARTIN 239

warblers, sand-martins, etc., will come in search of food
quite close up to a motionless human being. Mr. W. H.
Hudson relates in his Birds and Man how, when one
day he went into his garden and walked under the trees,
there was a great commotion among the little birds
overhead, who mobbed him in the manner they mob an
enemy. He discovered that the reason of this strange
behaviour on the part of the small birds that usually
paid no attention to him, was that he was wearing
a striped cloth cap, which the birds appeared to
mistake for a cat. It would almost seem that there is
so vast a difference in size between a tiny bird and a
human being that the former fails to recognise the
latter as a living object provided he keeps still. This
does not imply poor eyesight on the part of birds. The
minds and eyes of birds are almost invariably directed
on small things. Now, a man bears to a small bird
much the same relation as a horse three hundred hands
high would bear to a man. As regards detail, the
eyesight of birds is probably superior to that of men,
for each sand-martin seems never to mistake its nest,
although the entrance to it is merely one of several
score of holes scattered irregularly over the face of the
cliff. To the human eye these holes look all very much
alike, but each must possess minute peculiarities
which loom large in the eye of the sand-martin.
Whether or not the above explanation is the true one,
the fact remains that a human being can take up a
position within a few feet of the cliff without disturbing
the martins in their nest-building operations.

Some birds, when busy at their nests, work with

240 JUNGLE FOLK

feverish haste, as though they were under contract
to finish them by a given date. Not so the sand-
martins. With them, the spells of work at the nest
would seem to be mere interludes between their
gambols in the air. Each bird appears to visit its nest
ever}^ few seconds, but generally it contents itself with
hovering in front of the hole for a fraction of a minute
and then dashes away. Frequently one sees a martin
perch at the aperture for a few seconds without doing
any work, and then fly off again. For every visit made
with the object of doing work, ten or twelve seem to be
made for the mere fun of the thing. Sand-martins
appear to derive the greatest pleasure from the con-
templation of the growing nurser}^ If the cliff be
examined carefull3% its soft sandy surface will be found
to be scored in many places by marks made by the
sharp httle claws of the martins as the birds alight.

A colony of nesting martins presents a very animated
appearance. The main body dash through the air to
and fro in front of the cliff, uttering their feeble twitter-
ing, but a few^ are always at the nest holes, either resting
or working. These latter are constant^ reinforced
from those on the wing, and vice versa, so that there
are two streams of birds, one flying to the cliff and the
other leaving it. Suddenly the whole flock, including
both the resting and the flying birds, will, as if affected
simultaneously by a common influence, fly off en masse
and disappear from sight. But they are never absent
for long. At the end of two or three minutes all are
back again.

The birds utter unceasinglj', when on the wing, a

THE INDIAN SAND-MARTIN 241

twittering note, not so harsh as that of the sparrow,
but sufficiently harsh to make it appear that the birds
are squabbHng. A certain amount of bickering does
take place among the sand-martins. Every now and
again a bird may be observed chasing its neighbour in
a very unneighbourly manner. Occasionally two will
attack one another with open beak, and fall interlocked
to the ground. A prettier sight is that of a couple of
martins resting side by side at the orifice of the nest hole
twittering lovingly to one another. The excavation
that leads to the nest is a round passage, less than three
inches in diameter. After proceeding inwards and
slightly upwards for about two feet, it ends in a
globular cavity of larger diameter. This is the nesting
chamber, and is lined with grass, fine twigs, feathers,
and the like. Two or three white eggs are laid. Sand-
martins probably bring up more than one brood in the
year. Their nests are likely to be found in all the
winter months.

Cotile sinensis is a permanent resident in India and
is common in all the northern portions of the country,
but is not often seen so far south as Madras. It is
curious that this species should be abundant in North
India and rare in the south, where insect life is so
plentiful. There must be something in the climatic
conditions of South India that suits neither this nor
the other species of sand-martin. Precisely what this
is I cannot conjecture. Birds vary greatly in their
adaptability to climate. Some, such as the hoopoe,
appear absolutely indifferent to heat or cold, moisture
or dryness ; others, as most wagtails, shun heat.

242 JUNGLE FOLK

The two common crows of India afford an excellent
illustration of the way in which allied species differ
in their power of adapting themselves to variation in
climate. The grey-necked species (Corvus splendens)
is found throughout the length and breadth of the
plains of India, but does not ascend the Himalayas
to any great height, and is, in consequence, not foimd
in Murree Mussoorie or Naini Tal. The corby (C.
macrorhynchus) , on the other hand, is found in all parts
of the plains save in the Punjab, and ascends the Hima-
layas up to 10,000 feet or higher, and is the only
crow that occurs in most of the Himalayan hill stations.
It is thus evident that the black species is far less
sensitive to cold than the other, but why does it occur
so sparingly in the Punjab ? The connection between
climate and the distribution of birds is a fascinating
subject about which very little is known. Possibly
in the varying sensitiveness of birds to climatic con-
ditions lies the secret of some of the phenomena of bird
migration.

XLIII

THE EDUCATION OF YOUNG
BIRDS

A CERTAIN school of naturalists, in which
Americans figure largely, lays great stress
on the way in which parent birds and
beasts educate their offspring. According
to this school, a young bird is, like a human babe, born
with its mind a blank, and has to be taught by its
parents everything that it is necessary for a bird to
know. Just as children study at various educational
establishments, so do young animals attend what Mr.
W. J. Long calls " the school of the woods." "After
many years of watching animals in their native
haunts," he writes, " I am convinced that instinct
conveys a much smaller part than we have supposed ;
that an animal's success or failure in the ceaseless
struggle for life depends, not upon instinct, but upon
the kind of training which the animal receives from its
mother." In short, but for its parents, a young bird
would never learn to find its food, to fly, or sing, or build
a nest.

This theory appears to have met with wide accept-
ance, chiefly because it brings animals into line with

243

244 JUNGLE FOLK

human beings. It is but natural for us humans to put
anthropomorphic interpretations on the actions of
animals. Careless observation seems to justify us in
so doing. While not denying that birds do spend
much time and labour in teaching their young, I am
of opinion that the lessons taught by them are com-
paratively unimportant, that their teachings are merely
supplementary to the instinct, the inherited education,
which is latent in young birds at birth, and displays
itself as they increase in size, just as intelligence
develops in growing human beings.

By the mere observation of birds and beasts in their
natural state it is not easy to ascertain how far the
progress made by young ones is the growth of their
inborn instincts, and how far it is the result of parental
instruction.

It is the failure to appreciate the magnitude of this
difficulty that vitiates the teachings of Mr. Long and
the school to which he belongs. We can gauge the
value of the pedagogic efforts of parent animals only
by actual experiment, by removing young birds from
parental influence and noticing how far that which
we may term their education progresses in the absence
of the mother and father.

The first and foremost of the things which a young
bird must know is how to find its food. This is an
accomplishment which it speedily acquires without
any teaching. Young ducklings hatched under a
barndoor hen take to the water of their own accord,
and soon discover how to use their sieve-like bills.

I read some time ago a most interesting account

THE EDUCATION OF YOUNG BIRDS 245

of two young American ospreys, which Mr. E. H.
Baynes took from the nest at an early age. Having
secured them, he placed them in an artificial nest
which he had made for them. The parents did not suc-
ceed in finding them out, the young birds had therefore
to face the struggle for existence without a mentor.
** For several days," writes Mr. Baynes, " they spent
most of their time lying still, with necks extended and
heads prone on the floor of the nest." At this stage they
were, of course, unable to fly. It was not until they
were five or six weeks old that the young ospreys
entrusted themselves to their wings, and at the first
attempt they, or rather one of them, performed an
unbroken flight of several miles ! After they had
learned to use their wings, the ospreys were allowed
full liberty, nevertheless they continued to remain in
the neighbourhood of Mr. Baynes's house, and became
quite domesticated. When taken away, they returned
like homing pigeons. Even as they had made the
discovery that they could fly, so did they, one day,
find out that they could catch fish. Mr. Baynes thus
describes the earliest attempt of one of the young
birds : " His tactics were similar to those employed
by old and experienced ospreys, but the execution was
clumsy. After sailing over the pond for a few minutes,
he evidently caught sight of a fish, for he paused,
flapped his wings to steady himself, and then dropped
into the water. But it was the attempt of a tyro,
and of course the fish escaped. The hawk disappeared,
and when he came to the surface he struggled vainly
to rise from the water. Then he seemed to give it up."

246 JUNGLE FOLK

At this, Mr. Baynes was about to jump into the water
in order to rescue him ; however, " the next moment
he made a mighty effort, arose dripping wet, and flew
to his old roost on the chimney, where he flapped his
wings and spread them out to dry in the sun." Far
from being deterred by this experience, he repeated the
operation, and ere long became an expert fisher.

According to the school to which Mr. Long belongs,
young birds learn their song from their parents, just
as young children learn how to talk. In the words of
Barrington, " Notes in birds are no more innate than
language is in man, but depend entirely upon the
master under which they are bred, as far as their
organs will enable them to imitate the sounds which
they have frequent opportunities of hearing."

Similarly Michelet writes : " Nothing is more
complex than the education of certain singing birds.
The perseverance of the father, the docility of the
young, are worthy of all admiration." There can be
no doubt that young birds are very imitative. The
young of the koel — an Indian parasitic cuckoo — make
ludicrous attempts to caw in imitation of the notes
of their corvine foster-parents ; but later, when the
spring comes, they pour forth the very different notes
of their species. In the same way the young of the
common cuckoo, no matter by what species they are
reared, all cry " cuckoo " when they come of age.
Ducklings, pheasants, and partridges, hatched undei
the domestic hen, and fowls reared by turkeys, have
the calls peculiar to their species. It may, of course,
be urged that these learn their cries from others of their

THE EDUCATION OF YOUNG BIRDS 247

own kind. Here again, then, actual experiment is
necessary to determine which view is correct. Such
experiments were performed by Mr. John Blackwall
as long ago as 1823. He writes : —

" I placed the eggs of a redbreast in the nest of a
chaffinch, and removed the eggs of the chaffinch to that
of the redbreast, conceiving that, if I was fortunate in
rearing the young, I should, by this exchange, ensure
an unexceptional experiment, the result of which
must be deemed perfectly conclusive by all parties.
In process of time these eggs were hatched, and I had
the satisfaction to find that the young birds had their
appropriate chirps.

" When ten days old they were taken from their nests,
and were brought up by hand, immediately under my
own inspection, especial care being taken to remove
them to a distance from whatever was likely to influence
their notes. At this period an unfortunate circum-
stance, which it is needless to relate, destroyed all
these birds except two (a fine cock redbreast and a hen
chaffinch), which, at the expiration of twenty-one
days from the time they were hatched, commenced the
calls peculiar to their species. This was an important
point gained, as it evidently proved that the calls of
birds, at least, are instinctive, and that, at this early
age, ten days are not sufficient to enable nestlings
to acquire even the calls of those under which they
are bred. . . . Shortly after, the redbreast began to
record (i.e. to attempt to sing), but in so low a tone
that it was scarcely possible to trace the rudiments
of its future song in those early attempts. As it

248 JUNGLE FOLK

gained strength and confidence, however, its native
notes became very apparent, and they continued to
improve in tone till the termination of July, when it
commenced moulting. ... By the beginning of
October ... it began to execute its song in a manner
calculated to remove every doubt as to its being that
of the redbreast, had any such previously existed."
Mr. Long lays great stress on the manner in which
parents inculcate into their young fear of enemies.
Fear, he asserts, is not instinctive ; young creatures,
if found before they have been taught to fear, are not
alarmed at the sight of man. I admit that ver}^ young
creatures are not afraid of foes, and that, later, they
do display fear, but I assert that this change is not
the result of teaching, that it is the mere development
of an inborn instinct which does not show itself until
the young are some days old, because there is no neces-
sity for it in the earliest stages of the existence of a
young bird.

Some months ago one of my chaprassis brought me
a couple of baby red-vented bulbuls which had fallen
out of a nest. They were unable to feed themselves,
and were probably less than a week old. One met
with an early death, and the survivor was kept in a
cage. One day, while I was writing in my study, this
young bulbul began scolding in a way that all bulbuls
do when alarmed. On looking round, I discovered that
a chaprassi had silently entered the room with a shikra
on his wrist. The shikra is a kind of sparrow-hawk,
common in India. That particular individual was
being trained to fly at quail. It had never before

THE EDUCATION OF YOUNG BIRDS 249

been brought to my bungalow, nor is it likely that the
captive bulbul, whose cage was placed in a small,
enclosed verandah, had ever set eyes upon a shikra.
It had left the nest before it was of an age at which it
could learn anything from its parents. Its display of
fear and its alarm-call were purely instinctive. Its
inherited memory must have caused it to behave as it
did. Speaking figuratively, its ancestors learned by
experience that the shikra is a dangerous bird — a bird
to be feared — and this experience has been inherited.
To express the matter in more exact language, this
inherited fear of the shikra is the product of natural
selection. For generations those bulbuls who did not
fear and avoid the shikra fell victims to it, while the
more cautious ones survived and their descendants
inherited this characteristic.

Of all the arts practised by birds none is so wonderful
as that of nest-building. If it can be demonstrated
(as I believe it can) that this art is innate in a bird,
then there is no difficulty in believing that all the other
arts practised by the feathered folk are innate.

Michelet boldly asserts that a bird has to learn how
to build a nest precisely as a schoolboy has to learn
arithmetic or algebra. By way of proof, he quotes
the case of his canary — Jonquille. " It must be stated
at the outset," he writes, " that Jonquille was born in
a cage, and had not seen how nests were made. As
soon as I saw her disturbed, and became aware of her
approaching maternity, I frequently opened her door
and allowed her freedom to collect in the room the
materials of the bed the little one would stand in need

250 JUNGLE FOLK

of. She gathered them up, indeed, but without
knowing how to employ them. She put them together
and stored them in a corner of the cage. ... I gave
her the nest ready made— at least, the little basket
that forms the framework of the walls of the structure.
Then she made the mattress and felted the interior
coating, but in a very indifferent manner."

Michelet construes these facts as proof that the art of
nest-building is not innate in birds, but has to be
learned. As a matter of fact they prove exactly the
opposite. The Frenchman's reasoning is typical of
that of those persons who make their facts fit in with
their theories. Michelet is blinded by his preconceived
notions. He is unable to see things which should be
apparent to all. If the art of nest-building is not
innate, why did the canary fly about the room collecting
the necessary materials and heap them in a corner of
the cage? That she did not go so far as to build
a nest is easily explained by the fact that she was not
given a suitable site for it, that the necessary founda-
tion of branches was not provided for her. As well
might one say that a bricklayer did not know his trade
because he failed to build a wall on the surface of the
sea. When given the framework, Michelet's untaught
canary lost no time in lining it. The alleged act that
the lining was not well done may be explained in many
ways. Michelet may have imagined this, or the
materials provided may not have been altogether
suitable ; moreover, Jonquille must have worked in
haste, as the framework was presumably not given
until the bird had collected all the material. Again,

THE EDUCATION OF YOUNG BIRDS 251

the nest was the first that that particular canary had
built. Birds, like human beings, learn to profit by
experience. Nest-building is an instinctive art, but
intelligence may step in and aid blind instinct.

In this connection it is necessary to bear in mind
that the nest is completed long before the young birds
come out of the egg ; that they leave, or are driven
away from, the parents before the next nest-building
season. If young birds are taught nest-building, who
teaches them ?

Proof of the instinctiveness of nest-building might
be multiplied indefinitely. There are on record scores of
instances of birds selecting impossible sites for their
nests ; ■ these are cases of instinct that has gone astray.
Again, the persistent way in which martins will rebuild,
or attempt to rebuild, nests that are destroyed, shows to
what an extent nest-construction is a matter of instinct.
One more concrete piece of evidence must suffice.
My friend, Captain Perreau, has, among other birds
in his aviary at Bukloh, in the Himalayas, some grey-
headed love-birds. This species has the peculiar habit
of lining the nest with strips of bark, which the hen
carries up to the nest amongst the feathers of the back.
Captain Perreau started with two cock love-birds and
one hen, and this last had the peculiarity of not
carrying up the lining to her nest in the orthodox way ;
nevertheless, her daughter, when she took unto herself
a husband, used to carry up bark and grass to her nest
in the orthodox manner. " Why did this hen do this ? "
Captain Perreau asks. " Her mother could not have
taught her. I have no other true love-birds ; and my

252 JUNGLE FOLK

blue-crowned hanging parrakeets, or rather the hens,
certainly do carry up to the nesting-hole bark, etc.,
but they carry it, not in the back, but tucked in
between the feathers of the neck and breast." This
neat method of convejdng material to the nest is, there-
fore, certainly an instinctive act, as is almost every
other operation connected with nest-building.

To sum up. The parental teaching forms a far less
important factor in the education of birds than many
naturalists have been led by careless observation to
believe. Birds may be said to be born educated in the
sense that poets are born, not made. In each case
education puts on the finishing touches to the handi-
work of nature.

XLIV
BIRDS AT SUNSET

IT is refreshing to watch the birds at the sunset
hour. The fowls of the air are then full to
overflowing of healthy activity.

In the garden the magpie-robin (Copsychus
saularis), daintily clothed in black and white, vigor-
ously pours forth his joyous song from some leafy
bough. From the thicket issue the sharp notes of the
tailor-bird {Orthotomtis sutorius), the noisy chatter of
the seven sisters {Crater opus), and the tinkling melody
of the bulbul.

The king crows (Dicrurus ater) are alternately
catching insects on the wing and giving vent to their
superfluous energy in the form of cheerful notes. Upon
the lawn the perky, neatly-built mynas are chasing
grasshoppers with relentless activity ; nimble wagtails
are accounting for numbers of the smaller insects, while
the showy-crested hoopoes are eagerly extracting
grubs and other good things from the earth by means
of their long forceps-like bill. All, especially the
hoopoes, have the air of birds racing against time.
On that part of the lawn which the malli is flooding

253

254 JUNGLE FOLK

to preserve its greenness the crows are thoroughly
enjoying their evening bath.

On the sandy path is a company of green bee-
eaters (Merops viridis) engaged in dust-bath opera-
tions.

Overhead the swifts — our Httle land albatrosses —
are dashing hither and thither at full speed, revelling
in the abundant insect life called forth by the fading
light, and making the welkin ring with their " shivering
screams." Flying along with the swifts are some
sand-martins (Cottle sinensis), easily distinguishable
by their slower and more laboured motion.

High above the sphere of action of the swifts and
martins are numbers of kites and vultures, sailing in
circles on their quest for the wherewithal to satisfy
their insatiable appetite.

As the darkness begins to gather these birds, one and
all, put more energy into their movements. Each
seems to be aware of the rapid approach of the night
when work must cease, and each appears fully
determined not to lose a moment of the precious
daylight.

While the sun is still well above the horizon great
flocks of mjnias sweep swiftly overhead towards the
dense clump of bamboo bushes in which they will
spend the night. They are joined by other species
of starling. Before settling among the bamboos they
perch in trees hard by, and make a joyful noise ;
every now and then some of the throng take to their
wings and perform, hke trained soldiers, a series of
rapid evolutions. When at length the gloom compels

BIRDS AT SUNSET 255

them reluctantly to desist from their vigorous exercise,
and to disappear into the bamboo clump, they give
out energy in the form of loud clamour.

From the grove of tall trees yonder, where thousands
of crows will spend the hours of darkness, an even
greater noise issues. Some twenty minutes before the
sun dips below the horizon the advance guard of the
corvi arrives ; then, for the succeeding quarter-hour,
continuous streams of crows come pouring in from
east and west, from north and south.

Meanwhile the sparrows have been foregathering in
their hundreds in the low shrubs that fringe the edge
of the garden. And what a dissonance issues from
those bushes !

Truly phenomenal is the activity of the birds at
eventide. It is especially marked in India, where
during the middle of the day the sun nearly always
shines fierce and hot, so that the birds are glad to
enjoy a siesta in the grateful shade. From this they
emerge like giants refreshed.

This liveliness of the feathered folk at sunset is no
small matter. It is one of the most pleasing facts of
natural history. It shows how immensely birds enjoy
life. It proves how healthy, how full of energy they are,
how they, to speak figuratively, live within their
incomes.

Contrast such scenes as those described above with
what may be seen in the City of London at six o'clock
on a weekday. A multitude of pale, anxious, worn-
looking men, and thin, tired, haggard women pursue
with listless steps their homeward way. Compared

256 JUxNGLE FOLK

with the lot of these, how happ}^ is that of the
birds.

Birds are, Hke children, loath to go to bed. They
feel no w^eariness, and so great is their enjoyment of
life, that they are almost sorry when the sun disappears
for a little.

Jules Michelet, than whom no more wrong-headed
naturalist ever hved, declares that birds dread the
night. " Heavy," he writes, "for all creatures is the
gloom of evening. . . . Night is equally terrible for the
birds. . . . What monsters it conceals, w^hat frightful
chances for the bird lurk in its obscurity. Its nocturnal
foes have this characteristic in common — their ap-
proach is noiseless. The screech-owl flies with a silent
wdng, as if wTapped in tow. The weasel insinuates
its long body into the nest without disturbing a
leaf. The eager polecat, athirst for the warm
life-blood, is so rapid that in a moment it bleeds
both parents and progeny, and slaughters a whole
family.

" It seems that the bird, when it has little ones, en-
joys a second sight for these dangers. It has to protect
a family far more feeble and more helpless than that
of the quadruped, whose young can walk as soon as
bom. But how protect them ? It can do nothing but
remain at its post and die ; it cannot fly away, for
its love has broken its wings. All night the narrow
entry of the nest is guarded by the father, who sinks
with fatigue, and opposes danger wdth feeble beak
and shaking head. WTiat will this avail if the enormous
jaw of the serpent suddenly appears, or the horrible

BIRDS AT SUNSET 257

eye of the bird of death, immeasurably enlarged by
fear ? "

Greater nonsense than this was never penned outside
a political pamphlet. Birds do not, as Michelet seems
to imagine, go to sleep quaking with terror. They
know not the meaning of the word death, nor have
the\' any superstitious fears of ghosts and gobhns.

Birds with 5'oung sleep the sleep of a man \^ithout
a single care.

At other times birds do not roost in solitude, but
gather together in great companies, the members of
which are as jolly as the 3*0 img folks at a supper part^^
after the theatre. The happiness of the fowls of the
air at the simset hour is almost riotous.

Darkness, however, exercises a soothing influence
over them. A feehng of sleepiness steals over them,
and they then doubtless experience the luxurious
sensation of tiredness which we human beings feel
after a day spent in the open air ; for, although they
know it not, their muscles are tired as the result of
the activity of the da}'.

Their sweet slumbers completely refresh them.
Before da^^-n they are awake again, and are up and
about waiting for it to grow sufficiently light to enable
them to resume the interrupted pleasures of the
previous day.

WITH the exception of " The Education of
Young Birds," which came out in The
Albany Review, the chapters which com-
pose this book appeared in one or other
of the following Indian periodicals : The Madras Mail,
The Times of India, The Indian Daily Telegraph, The
Indian Field, The hidian Forester.

The author begs to tender his thanks to the several
editors for permission to reproduce this collection of
essays.

GLOSSARY

Bandohast. Arrangement.

Bhimraj. The racket-tailed drongo {Dissemiirus para-

diseus).
Chabutra. A masonry platform, erected outside the

bungalow in the compound on which people sit in

the evenings during the hot weather.
Chantar. The name of a low caste of Indians who skin

animals and tan their skin.
Chaprassi. Lit., a badge- wearer. A servant who runs

messages.
Chik. A number of thin pieces of bamboo strung together

to form a curtain. Chiks are usually hung in front

of doors and windows in India with the object of

keeping out insects, but not air.
Choia Jmzri. Early morning tea.
Dak bungalow. Government rest-house.
Jhil. A lake or any natural depression which is filled wdth

rain water all the year round or only at certain seasons.
Kankar. Lumps of limestone with which roads are

metalled in Northern India.
Koi Hai. Lit., Is anyone there ? The expression used in

India to summon a servant, bells being non-existent

in that country.
Lathi. A club or long stick often studded with nails to

make it a more formidable weapon.
261

262 JUNGLE FOLK

Madar plant. Calotropis giganlea.

Mohwa. Bassia latifolia.

Murghi. A fowl or chicken.

Nullah. A ravine.

Ryot. A cultivator or small farmer.

Sahib. Sir, or a gentleman. A term used to denote a

European.
Sath Bhai. Any of the various species of Crateropus

babblers.
Shikari. One who goes out shooting or hunting.
Swadeshi. A jingoistic term meaning Indian.
Terai. Lit., moist land. A low-lying tract of land running

along the foot of the Himalayas.
Tope. A grove of trees.
Topi. A sun-helmet.

INDEX

Ahlak, 197

Accentor r,ioduIaris, 231
Accipiter nisus, 39
Acridotheres fuscus, 190

— tristis, 41, 76, 171. 198
Actions of animals, interpreta-
tion of, 68-71

Adam, Mr. R. M., 20
Adaptabilitv' to climate of birds,

241
Adjutant, 5, 6
^salon regtiltis, 42
Aitken, Mr. Benjamin, 36, 48
Alpherakj', 151
Alseonax laiirosfris, 179
Amadavat, 97
Ammomanes, 203

— phcenicura, 207
.4na5 anser, 150

Anderson, Mr. A., 140, 141, 159,

207, 223
Anser cinereus, 150

— ferns, 1 50

— rubirostris, 151
Arachmchthra asiatica, 176

lotenia, i

Ardeola grayii, iii
y^f^ya caudata, 69

— malcovii, 227, 229, 231
Arnold, Sir Edwin, 220
^5/ur badius, 42

— palabarius, 38
Athffu brama, 73, 209

Babbler, 14, 117, 190, 220-6

— brotherhoods, 220-6

— common, 69, 70, 214-9

— large grey, 227-32

— mad, 227-32

— yellow-eyed, 176, 233-6
Baker, Mr. E. C. Stuart, 119
Ball, Mr., 142

Bank myna, 210

Bar bet, 116

Barrington, 246

Bates, 183

Bateson, 123

Ba3me5, Mr. E. H., 245, 246

Bee-eater, little green, 4. 33,

51-5, 1S4, 254
Bennet, 98
Bhairi, 41

Bhimraj, 8, 126, 129
Bird of the open plain, 202-7
Birds and Mar., 146, 239
Bird Watching, 71
Blackbird, 33
Blackball, Mr. John, 247
I Blanford, Dr., 8, 10, 14, 26, 84,

Bligh, 135

" Blue jay," 4, 75, 171
Bombax malabaricum. 2o3
Bombay Ducks, 133
BrachypUrtius auraniius. 74
Brahminy duck, 149, 150, 153

— myna, 16

26:

266

INDEX

Brain-fever bird, 223
Bubulcus coromandus, 189
Bulbul, 212, 248, 249, 253

— green, 116-20
Burroughs, John, 4, 46
Butasfur teesa, 32-6
Butcher bird, 34, 45-50
Butler, 143

Butler, Colonel, 20, 113
Buzzard. 47

— white-eyed, 32-6

Canary, 249, 250, 251

Casavca rutila, 149

Casque, 5

Cement of bird masons, 17 1-7

Centropus iniermedius, 14

— maximus, 14

— phasianus, 1 1

— rufipennis, 14, iii

— sinensis, 10
Cercomela fusca, 16

— melanuva, 18
Chaffinch, 247

Chat, brown rock-, 16-20
Chelidon urbica, 173
Chilian wigeon, 109
Chinkara, 42
Chloropsis, 117, 118, 120

— Jerdoni, 118

— Jerdon's, 118

— Malabar, 118

— malabarica, 118
Cholum bird, 192
Clare, 24

Climate, adaptability of birds to,

241
Clubs, bird, 223
Cobra, 89-93
Cobweb, 174-7
Coccystis jacobinus, 231

Colouration, protective, 121, 142

— warning, 79, 204
Coot, 78-83

— purple, 84-8
Coppersmith, 74, 212, 213
Copsychus saulavis, 253
Coracias indica, 75, 171
Corby, 211, 212, 242
Cormorant, 40, 121, 125
Corporate action, 195

Corvus macfovhynchus, 211, 230,
242

— splendens, 4, 118, 211, 228,
242

Cotile riparia, 237

— sinensis, 237, 241, 254
Cotton tree, birds in the, 208-13
Coucal, 10, II, 12, 13, 91

— Southern Chinese, 13
Cow-bird, 9

Cowper, 23, 106

Crab, 113

Crane, 144, 167

Cyateropus canorus, 215, 221, 253

Crocodile, 94

Crotalavia juncea, 141

Crow, 14, 24, 25, 26, 41, 42, 64,

65, 107, 112, 136, 165, 168,

169, 171, 189, 211, 212, 228,

230, 242, 255
Crow-pheasant, lo, 11, 12, 13,

14, 91, III
Cuckoo, 9-15, 161, 171

— lark-heeled, 10

— pied crested, 231, 232
shrike, 190

— sirkeer, 14
CuUcapa ceylonensis, 179
Cunningham, Colonel, 10, 26, 92

197, 200, 222
Cygnus olor, 99-103
Cyornis superciliavis, 181

INDEX

267

Cyornis tickelli, 181

Darwin, 131, 157, 158, 183
Dendfocitta vufa, 211, 231
Devil bird, 164
De Vries, 122
Dhouli, 128
Dichoceros bicornis, 5
Dicrurus aier, 126, 172, i8g, 200,
228, 253

— cesrulescens, 127, 128

— leucopygialis, 127, 128
Diodorus Siculus, 98
Dirt bird, 220
Dissemurus paradiseus, i2()
Donald, Mr. C. H., 34, 35
Dove, 33, 171

— little brown, 200

— red turtle, 16

Drongo, large racket- tailed, 126

— melodious, 126-31

— white-bellied, 126-31

— white-vented, 126-31

Eagle, 32, 45, 46, 47

Ear of owl, 61

Education of birds, 243-52

Egret, 189

" Eha," II, 78, 117, 212, 217

Epeira diadema, 1 75

Evans, Mr., 58

Eyes of owl, 58-60

Eyesight of birds, 239

Falcon, 33, 42, 45

Falcon, peregrine, 41, 42

Falconry, 37-44

Falco peregrinus, 41

Farash, at the sign of the, 72-7

Fayrer. Captain, 133

Finch-lark, 202-7

— ashy-crowned, 202-7

Finch-lark, rufous- tailed, 207
Finn, Mr. Frank, 13, 14, 26, 80,

85, 119, 142, 167, 198
Fly-catcher, 45, 46, 185, 237

— black and orange, 181

— brown, 179

— European red-breasted, 180

— fan-tailed, 8, 174, 179, 182

— grey-headed, 179

— Indian, 178-83
red-breasted, 180

— Nilgiri blue, 181

— paradise, 179, 181, 182

— Tickell's blue, 181

— verditer, 181

— white-browed blue, 181
Fowler, Mr. Warde, 28
Fvanklinia buchanani, 174

Gamecocks, 163

Garden and Aviary Birds of India,

119
Gazella bennetti, 42
Gecko, 186
Glead, 24, 27
Golabi maina, 192
Goldfinch, 33
Goose, 143-53

— barred-headed, 151, 153

— grey lag, 150, 151
Goshawk, 38, 40, 41
Grackle, 65

Green birds, 116
Green bulbul, 116-20

— pigeon, 116
Grus antigone, 144
Gull, 104-9, 113

Handbook on the Management of

Animals in Captivity, 98
Hatchell, Mr. D. G., 135
Hawk, 33, 34, 37, 45

268

INDEX

Ha vk, dark-eyed, 38

— long-winged, 38

— short-winged, 38

— yellow-eyed, 3S

cuckoo, 221, 223

eagle, 42

Hawking, 37-44
Hedge-sparrow, 231
Henderson, Dr., 135
Herbert, 143
Heron, 166, 167, 171

— night, 165-70
Herpestes grisetis, 96

— ichneumon, 98

— ntungo, 96

Hierococcyx varius, 221, 223
Hirundo rustica, 173

— smithii, 173
Hodgson, 216
Honeysucker, Loten's, 175
Hooper swan, 103
Hoopoe, 43, 76, 241, 253
Hoplopierus ventralis, 11 1
Hombill, great, 5, 6, 174
Hotel des Oiseaux, 73, 77
How to Know the Indian Waders,

167
Hudson, Mr, W. H., 3, 119, 146,

239
Hume, 12, 13, 19, 87, 136, 159,

174, 206, 207, 223, 236
Hurdis, 22, 23
Hutton, 139
Hydrochelidon hybrida, 112

Ichneumon, 94
Injury-feigning instinct, 70-1
Insect hunters, 184-91
Instinct, nest-building, 249-50

J a van peaiowl, 154
Jefferies, Richard. 209

Jerdon, 13, 16, 26, 84, 96, 117,
128, 134, 135, 154, 198, 203,
229, 230, 234, 235

Jesse, 17

Johnston, Sir H., 117

Jowaree bird, 192, 195

King crow, 4, 25, 33, 126-31,

184, 189, 190, 228, 253
Kingfisher, white-breasted, 4
Kingsley, Charles, 7
KipUng, Lockwood, 6
Kite, 21-7, 105, 106, 254
Kites of the sea, 104-g

Lanius evythronotus, 48-50

— lahtora, 48, 50

— vittatus, 50
Larders, shrikes', 49
Lark, 33

Legge, 87, 127, 129, 130, 138

Leptoptilus duhius, 5

Lilford, Lord, 109

Linnaeus. 216

Linnet, 33

Livy. 143

Lizard, 186-8

Long, Mr. W. J., 243, 246, 248

Loten's honeysucker, 175

Love-bird, grey-headed, 251, 252

Macaulay, 24

Madar plant, 141

Magpie-robin, 8, 253

Martin, Indian Sand-, 237-42

McMaster, 96, 97

MellivoYU indica, 205

Merhn, 42, 43

Merops viridis, 51-5, 254

Michelet, 46, 47, 246, 249, 256,

257
Milvus govinda, 21

INDEX

269

Mimicry, 11, 183
Mini vet, 190
Motacilla alba, 31

— borealis, 3 1

— imper sonata, 31

— maderaspatensis, 29

— melanape, 31
Muller, 183

Multiplication, checks on, 131
Mungoose, 94-S

Myna, 41, 64, 76, 184, 189, 198,
200, 254

— bank, 190, 210

— Brahminy, 16, 210

— hill, 65

Naia haje, 91

— tripudians, 89, 91

Natural selection, 11, 59, 71, 79-
82. 93, 122, 131, 163, iSi, 205
Naurang, 133
Neophron ginginianus, 5

— percnopterus, 22
Nicholson, 90
Night heron, 165-70
Nuni-budi-gadu, 164
Nuthatch, chestnut-bellied, 173,

190
Nycticorax griseus, 165

Gates, 8, 16, 17, 117, 127, 234

Ochromela nigrirufa, iSi

CEnopopelia iranqiiebarica, 16

Oriole, 172

Oriolus kundoo, 172

" Ornament of the Forest," iiS

Ornithological and other Oddities,

Orihotomus sutorias, 7, 16, 176,

253
Ospreys, American, 245, 246
Owen,|Miss_J/A., 80

Owlet, spotted, 73, 74, 75, 209
Owls, 36-61, 130

Paddy bird, iii

Palaornis torquatus, 73, 74

Parker, Mr. H., 87

Parrot, green, 73, 74

Partridge, 70
• Pastor roseus, 192-6, 209
I Pavo cristatus, 154
; — muticus, 154
i Peacock, 4, 40, 41, 154-9
I Perreau, Captain, 251
j Pettifoggers, ornithological, 216

Phalacocotax carbo, 122, 123

— fuscicollis, 123

— javanicus, 123
Pharaoh's chicken, 22

— rat, 98
Pharoe's mouse, 98
Pheasant, Grin's, 10

— monal, 4

Pitta, the Indian, 132, 136

— brachyura, 132
Pliny. 94, 143
Ploceus hay a, 7, 172
Plover, 171

— spur-winged, 1 1 1
Polecat, 256

Porphyrio, the beautiful, 84-8

— poliocephahis, $>^

— veteruyn, 86

I Poulton, Professor, 92
! Prinia inornaia, 7, 172
I Priority, rule, 216

Protective colouration, 121, 142
i Pugnacits', 142
j Pyctorhis nasalis, 234

— sinensis, 176, 234

I Pyrrhulauda grisea, 202-7
I

I Quail, 39

270

INDEX

Rat-bird, 69
Ratel, Indian, 205
Redbreast, 247
Redstart, Indian, 160-4
Rhamnus, 139
Rhipidura albifyontata, 174
Rynchope alhicolHs, 112
Robin, 46, 47
Robin, Indian, 204
Robinson, Kay, loi

— Phil, 3, 33. 57, 143
Roller, 33, 75, 171
Rook, 107, 108

Roosting of bee-eaters, 51-5

Salvadori, 150
Sand-martin, 237, 254

Indian, 237-42

Sandpiper, common, iii, 114
Sanyal, Babu R. P., 98
Safh Bhai, 220, 228, 233
Scavengers, bird, 104, 105

in-waiting, 21-7

Sciurus palmarum, 62-7, 73

Screech owl, 256

Seagull, 104-g

Selection, natural, 11, 59, 71,

79-82, 93, 122, 131, 163, 181,

205
Selection, sexual, 157, 158, 163
Selous, Edmund, 71, 195,196,209
Selous, F. C, 60
" Seven Sisters," 15, 117, 220,

233
Sexual dimorphism, 182

— selection, 157, 158, 163
Shama, 8

Shikra, 42, 97, 230, 248, 249
Shrike, 34, 45-50

— bay-backed, 49, 50

— Indian grey, 48-50

— rufous-backed, 48-50

Siphia hyperythra, 180

— parva, 180
Sirkeev cuckoo, 14
Sitta castaneiventns, 173
Skimmer, Indian, 112
Skunk, 204, 205

Some Indian Friends and Ac-
quaintances, 10
Songbirds, 7
Songs of Birds, The, 58
" Son of the marshes," 108
Sparrow, 255

— of Scripture, 18

hawk, 39, 40, 41, 218

Spectacle bird, 138
Speculum Mundi, 103
Spider, common garden, 175
Spizcstus nepalensis, 42
Squirrel, Indian striped, 62, 67,

73, 212, 228
Stag beetle, 186
Starling, 8, 9

— pied, 197-201

— rosy, 192-6, 209
Sterna bergii, 113

— melanogaster , H2

— seena, 112
Sterndale, 95
Sturnopastor contra, 197, 201

— superciliaris, 199
Stolzman, 158
Stoparola albicaudata, 181

— melanops, 181
Stork, 166

Struggle for existence, 81^^
Sunbird, 4, 8, 175
Sunset, birds at, 253-7
Swadeshi bird, 154-9
Swallow, 45, 173

— wire- tailed, 173
Swamp-hen, 84
Swan,'!|99-io3

INDEX

271

Swan, black, 103

— mute, 99-102

Swift, 45, 173, 184, 190, 254

Taccocua leschenauUi, 14
Tailor bird, 7, 16, 176
Tamarix articulata, 72
Teesa, the, 32-6
Terpsiphone, 179
Tern, 1 10-15

— black-bellied, 112

— Indian river, 112

— large crested, 113

— whiskered, 112
Terry, Captain H., 124
Thamnohia cambaiensis, 204
Thayer, Mr., 204

The Evening Telegraph, 107
The Irish Naturalist, 109
The Yorkshire Gazette, 145
Thir-thira, 164
Thompson, Mr. Seton, 121
Thrush, 33, 230

— laughing, 190
Thurston, Mr. Edgar, 85
Tickell, 128

Tilly er, 192

Temenuchus pagodarum, 16

Tit, 190, 238

Toad, 185, 186

Topsell, 94

Totanus hypoleucus, 1 1 1

Tower Menagerie, 98

Tree-creeper, 190

Tree-pie, Indian, 211, 231

Tristram, Canon, 86

Turtur cambayensis, 200

Ugly ducklings, 214-19

Upupa indica, 76

Verditer flycatcher, 181, 182
Verri chinda, 227
Vulture, 105, 254

— scavenger, 5

Wagtail, 241

— grey, 31

— grey-headed, 31

— masked, 31

— pied, 29, 30

— white, 31
Wagtails, Indian, 28-31
Wallace, 84, 158, 183
Wallaceism, 81
Warbler, 239

Warning colouration, 79, 204
Watson, Mr. H. E., 102
Weaver-bird, 7, 172
White ants, 188
White-browed fantail flycatcher,

174
White-eye, Indian, 8, 137-42,

176, 190, 238
Williams, Mr. W. J., 109
Woodpecker, 190
Wren-warbler, 7, 172

— rufous-fronted, 174

Xantholcsma hcBmatocephala, 74

Yellowhammer, 33
Yellow Ribbon Army, 218

Zosteropspalpebrosa, 137-42, 176

THE MAKING OF SPECIES

BY DOUGLAS DEWAR, B.A., (Cantab.),

I.C.S., F.Z.S., AND FRANK FINN, B.A.,

(Oxon.), F.Z.S., M.B.O.U., WITH NUMEROUS

ILLUSTRATIONS

Demy 8fo., 9 x 5 J Inches. Price js. 6ci. vet.
Postage 6d. extra.

PRESS OPINIONS

Christian World. — " In an interesting preface, Messrs. Dewar and

Finn enlighten us as to the origin of their work."

Daily Chronicle. — *' There is a breezy, refreshing air about the book."
Birmingham Post. — " Messrs. Dewar's and Finn's volume shows the

value of such first-hand experience."

Literary World. — "The book is certainly to be welcomed for the con-
cise way in which it deals with the greatest problem of biology,"

Outlook. — "*The Making of Species' is a book of knowledge and
originality. Messrs. Dewar and Finn are capable investigators. This
work is thoroughly characteristic of our day. A long volume full of
interest and very clearly written.''

Neiv eAge. — "The book is handsomely got up and fully illustrated."

Aberdeen Free Press. — "The book is well written. We do not doubt
that the work will produce good fruit and attract considerable attention."

Dublin Daily Express. — "The merits of the book are undoubtedly
great. We recommend it to the attentive study of all who are
interested in the subject of evolution."

Manchester Courier. — "The amateur entering this perplexing field
could hardly have a better guide. The illustrations are confined to
birds, but are admirably executed."

Oration. — " An exceptionally interesting book. We gladly welcome
the literary advent of two such able and independent Naturalists as
Messrs. Dewar and Finn."

Daily ^ews. — "'The Making of Species ' will be read with a good
deal of pleasure and interest. There are many striking photographs."

T. P.'s Weekly. — " Messrs. Dewar and Finn have accumulated some
very singular and striking facts in their * Making of Species.'"

t^eivcastle Daily Chronicle. — "The authors have stated their facts in
a plain and common-sense fashion."

Truth. — "*The Making of Species' will do much to arrest the
fossilisation of biological science in England."

Sunday Times. — "This handsome volume.''

Daily Telegraph. — *' Interesting and suggestive. It should receive
wide attention."

BOMBAY DUCKS

AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE EVERYDAY BIRDS
& BEASTS FOUND IN A NATURALIST'S EL DORADO

By DOUGLAS DEWAR, F.Z.S., I.C.S.

With Numerous Illustrations from Photographs of Living Birds
By Captain F. D. S. FAYRER, I.M.S.

Demy Svo. i6s. net.

PRESS OPINIONS.

Spectator. — " Mr. Douglas Dewar' s book is excellent. ... A feature of the
book is the photographs of birds by Captain Fayrer. They are most remark-
able, and quite unlike the usual wretched snapshots and blurred reproductions
with which too many naturalists' books are nowadays illustrated."

Standard. — " The East has ever been a place of wonderment, but the writer
of ' Bombay Ducks ' brings before Western eyes a new set of pictures. . . .
The book is entertaining, even to a reader who is not a naturalist first and a
reader afterwards. . . . The illustrations cannot be too highly praised."

Daily News. — " This new and sumptuous book. ... Mr. Dewar gives us a
charming introduction to a great many interesting birds."

Pall Mall Gazette.— '^ Most entertaining dissertations on the tricks and
manners of many birds and beasts in India."

Graphic. — " The book is written in a most readable style, light and easy, yet
full of information, and not overburdened with scientific words and phrases.
. . . The habits of the different birds are fully described, often in a very
amusing and interesting manner."

BIRDS OF THE PLAINS

By DOUGLAS DEWAR, F.Z.S., LC.S.

AUTHOR OF " BOMBAY DUCKS," ETC.

With numerous Illustrations.

Demy B>vo, los, 6d. net.

PRESS OPINIONS.

Globe. — " Mr. Dewar is not only a keen and patient observer, but he is gifted
with the descriptive art in high degree, and his vivacious style communicates
the characters and habits of birds with unerring fidelity and infinite spirit."

Sportsman. — " Mr. Dewar has a delightfully simple and quaintly humorous
way of expressing himself, and his clever word pictures of bird life make
charming reading."

Truth. — "The volume is handsomely produced, and, like its predecessor, it
has a number of remarkably fine illustrations."

Manchester Guardian. — "Those who enjoyed 'Bombay Ducks' will wel-
come ' Birds of the Plains.' His breezy style is pleasant and easy reading.
The photographs deserve the highest praise."

Daily Chronicle — " Here is a work worthy of all commendation to those
who love birds, and is ably seconded by Captain Fayrer's excellent photo-
graphs."

INDIAN BIRDS

BEING A KEY TO THE COMMON BIRDS OF
THE PLAINS OF INDIA

By DOUGLAS DEWAR, F.Z.S., I.C.S.

Crown Sz^o. 6s. net

PRESS OPINIONS

spectator.— "■Th^ present book is by Mr. Douglas Dewar, a charming
writer, whose earlier books on birds we have had the pleasure of recommend-
ing. The book is most carefully compiled, and much ingenuity is displayed in
framing this artificial analysis."

Pall Mall Gametic.— "This practical and useful work. Familiarity with
these pages would enable the average man in a few weeks to know all the birds
he meets in an Indian station,"

Athenepum. — "Mr. Dewar is a careful guide, already known as a careful
observer and entertaining chronicler of the ways of Indian birds."

Indian Field. — " We can thoroughly recommend this book to all not versed
in ornithology and who wish to know our birds without having to kill them."

ORNITHOLOGICAL
AND OTHER ODDITIES

By FRANK FINN, B.A. (Oxon.), F.Z.S.

LATE DEPUTY-SUPERINTENDENT OF THE
INDIAN MUSEUM, CALCUTTA

With numerous Illustrations from Photographs

Demy 2>vo. los. 6d. net

PRESS OPINIONS

standard.— ^^ This book, dealing with the courting of birds, how they fight
and mimic, and moult and blush, is one of the most fascinating we have read
for some time. His book will prove as interesting to the general reader as to
the enthusiastic naturalist."

Morning Post.— " The book consists of a number of papers— all are delight-
fully readable. A very interesting and delightful book. The style is always
clear and free from technicalities; this volume will certainly prove as entertain-
ing to the general reader as it is interesting to the naturalist."

Globe. — "The pleasantest of reading — produced most charmingly. The
book is illustrated with numbers of beautiful photographs showing bird and
beast life with wonderful truth and charm. We must congratulate Mr. Finn
and his publisher on one of the most alluring nature books we have seen for
a long time."

S hooting Tiiues.—" Th^ \o\\xm& is well illustrated, and is certainly a very
amusing and highly instructive publication."

JUNGLE BY-WAYS IN INDIA

Leaves from the Note-book of a Sportsman and a
Naturalist, with upwards of lOO illustrations by the
Author and others. Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 12/6 net.

PRESS OPINIONS.

spectator. — " Well worth reading . . . told in a clever and vivid
style. "

Athenaum. — "These sketches, containing information about most of
the animals which attract sportsmen, enlivened by descriptions of their
pursuit, deserve praise . . . the pen and ink sketches have much
merit."

Timei. — " Mr. Stebbing has certainly the knack of setting down his jungle
experiences in narrative which is interesting and vivid."

Standard. — "Mr. Stebbing writes with great spirit."

Daily Graphic. — *' A first-rate sporting book."

Daily Chronicle. — " Mr. Stebbing writes with the instinct and feeling of a
true sportsman. The illustrations assist one to an understanding and
appreciation of the text."

Outlook. — " This book is as instructive as it is entertaining, and should
prove of great value to the novice anxious to tread in the author's
footsteps."

Morning Post. — "A delightful book . . , full of information and
adventure . . . charmingly illustrated."

Morning Leader. — "A fascinating and informing record of every variety
of sport."

Sunday Times.— *^ A striking picture of jungle-life. Mr. Stebbing's
descriptions are vivid and admirable."

Hueen. — *' Mr. Stebbing has both knowledge and appreciation of the
denizens of the jungle."

Pall Mell Gazette. — <' This interesting book,"

Sporting Times. — "A really good shikar book, full of useful information
. , . one of the best."

Country Life. — "A rich and varied record of sport."

T.P.'s ?Feekly. — "I can confidently recommend this excellent volume."

Graphic. — "An extremely interesting book."

Man-.hester Guardian. — "Mr. Stebbing narrates his experiences in such a
fresh and easy style, and shows such keen and humorous appreciation of the
ways of the inhabitants of the jungle, great and small, that the reader can
scarcely fail to be interested ... the sketches are excellent and greatly
assist the letterpress."

Indian Daily Telegraph. — "The sportsman in this country will find
much to amuse and instruct in Mr. Stebbing's book."

Indian Reuieiv. — "There are many good things in this book, which may
be commended to all sportsmen, and should find a place on the bookshelf
of all lovers of nature."

TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND

THE RECORD OF A SHOOTING TRIP.
By AGNES HERBERT. With numerous
Illustrations. Demy 8vo. Price, i2s. 6^. net.
Postage 6^. extra. <^ 6 ^ ♦ ^
SOME PRESS OPINIONS.

The Sfertsman. — "A more delightful book — nay, so delightful a book — is not
met with once in a generation. It is sui generis; we know of none that can
pretend to compare with it. There is not a line in it that cannot be read with
pleasure, while the whole volume contains such a record of interesting and thrilling
adventure as one rarely meets with."

Tht Fitld. — " The story is told with great animation throughout, and with a
sense of humour that carries one on attentively to the end. We shall be much
mistaken if_ this very attractive volume on big game shooting is not soon in a
second edition."

The AtAenaum.—" ThAt most attractive book, 'Two Dianas in Somaliland,'
which shows the author to be almost as skilful with her pen as with the rifle ; and
that is saying a great deal. The book is exceptionally interesting."

TAe C»UHty Gentleman. — " Miss Herbert's light, breeiy style in dealing with the
humours of camp life is highly entertaining. We have never read a more piquantly
written narrative of big game shooting."

Country Life. — " This sprightly and amusing book, full of wild life and adventure,
of difficulties and dangers pluckily overcome is a welcome change after the
innumerable recitals of ' mere man ' in Africa."

The World. — " Miss Herbert wields her pen to good purpose. She has a keen
sense of humour, she j|oes straight to the point, she scorns padding in purple
patches, and yet so vivid is her style that she at once interests the reader in her
subject. No man, and few women, will fail to follow her to the end of her
adventures."

The Liverpool Post.—" It is a most chatty and vivacious account. The book
can be enjoyed by all, sportsmen or not, and it will assuredly take an honoured
place among its kind."

Th« Daily News. — "Certain to receive a friendly welcome from the general
reader. A keen eye for the humorous side of things, a fluent and lively pen, and
occasionally the display of a somewhat caustic wit, make the volume most amusing
reading. We congratulate the authoress on the lively narrative. One can only
hope that she will once again go a-bunting, and once again tell its story."

The Birmingham Poj/'.— " This is a book to read, if only for its delightfully
unconventional vein ; and there is a subtle suggestion of romance about it too."

The Dundee Advertiser. — " The book in some respects is marvellous. It is the
revelation of a sportswoman's mind. Miss Herbert has a facile pen."

The Manchester Courier. — "Miss Herbert's book is written light-heartedly. It is
a delightfully humorous and witty record. It is also an assuming one."

The Daily Telep'aph.— "This finely-printed and well-illustrated volume is a
thoroughly entertaining and amusing record. Every sportsman will find this brisk
and vivacious narrative to his taste."

The Daily Mail.—" ' Two Dianas in Somaliland' is a book out of the common
run . . . very attractive reading."

The Scotsman. — " Certainlj' no one who reads this narrative will fail to be
keenly interested and amused."

The Daily Chronicle.— " You neednot be a sportsman— or a sportswoman— to
enjoy this book, because it has a vivacity which would carry any reader along. It
is written with the merry heart that goes all the day, and it has much to record
besides lion killing."

The Evening Standard.—" We are sure that no such story was ever related with
greater charm or incisiveness. The volume is very welcome."

TWO DIAXAS IX ALASKA

By AGNES HHRBERT x .i SHIKARI.
F::ce, ::... -.;. ne:. <^ <:^ r ^ <^ <>

i*Si. iH kif, AuC C^ :

A VAGABOND IN THE
CAUCASUS

WITH SOME NOTES OF HIS EXPERIENCES
AMONG THE RUSSIANS

By STEPHEN GRAHAM

With Sixteen Illustrations and Two Maps
Defny H7jo, I2S. 6d. net

PRESS OPINIONS

Daily Telegraph. — "One of the most individual and in-
teresting volumes of travel talk that we have had for many
a long day. A work of quite exceptional charm and interest.
An attraction that will make most readers look forward with
pleasurable anticipation to the author's future work."

Morning Post. — " It is a good book, full of suggestiveness,
promise, and horizon."

Westminster Gazette. — " Mr. Graham's literary touch has
the delightful intimate comradeship of the born wanderer,
and his book is all too short."

Daily News. — "A book of impressions and adventures
with an unusually fine literary flavour."

Standard. — ". . . written with keen insight and literary
skill . . . abounds with practical hints for prospective
travellers."

Evening Standard. — " Mr. Graham has had adventures.
He relates them well. His style is direct and racy. Every-
thing is real . . . entertaining."

Truth.— '' K perfectly delightful book."

Academy. — "Mr. Graham writes with the intimate personal
touch that gives distinction to Stevenson's 'Travels with a
Donkey' and Belloc's ' Path to Rome.'"

Observer. — " Mr. Graham's experiences make an enter-
taining book."

Graphic. — "An attractive book."

Country Life. — " You follow his adventures with the same
interest you would follow an engrossing novel, because you
see the man and feel something of his passion."

Bookman. — " In every way this is a most charming and
attractive book. Mr. Graham's views are fresh and original."

Shooting Times. — "Distinctly entertaining."

KASHMIR : The Land of Streams and Solitudes. By
P. PiRiE. With Twenty-five Full-page Plates in Colour, and
upwards of lOO other Illustrations by H. R. Pirie. Crown 4to
(lox 6^in.). 2 1 J. net.

Globe.—" This is a delightful book."

Liverpool Courier, — " It is one of the handsomest productions that has come
from the Bodley Head for a considerable time."

Obser^ier. — " The book is a treasure, and will be turned over often with joy
and sighs."

RIFLE AND ROMANCE IN THE INDIAN

JUNGLE : Being the Record of Thirteen Years of Indian Jungle
Life. By Major A. I. R. Glasfurd (Indian Army). With numer-
ous Illustrations by the Author and Reproductions from Photo-
graphs. New and Cheaper Edition. Crown 8vo. 7_y. dd, net.

Literary World. — "To the list of books on big-game shooting that can be
commended equally to the sportsman and the general reader must be
added this truly fascinating work. We have read it through from cover
to cover, and pronounce it excellent."

Academy.—" Search where we will through this entertaining book, we always
happen upon sound literature, fine description, good natural history, and
lively adventure. The author is clearly in love with his subject, and the
pictures of jungle scenery and jungle life are wonderfully vivid . . . in all
respects a first-rate book."

CEYLON: The Paradise of Adam. The Record of

Seven Years' Residence in the Island. By Caroline Corner.
With Sixteen Full-page Illustrations. Reproduced from Photo-
graphs. Demy 8vo (9 x 5f in.). \os. 6d. net.
Daily Chronicle.— *^ This book is merry— merry, witty, observant, and read-
able : observation in lighter vein, however, with a serious note of informa-
tion and experience."

BIG GAME SHOOTING ON THE EQUATOR.

By Captain F. A. Dickinson, f.r.g.s. With an Introduction by Sir
Charles Norton Eliot, k.c.m.g., late Commissioner for British
East Africa, jj Illustrations reproduced from Photographs. Demy
8vo. I2i. dd. net.

LAKE VICTORIA TO KHARTOUM : With Rifle

and Camera. By Captain F. A. Dickinson, d.c.l.i., f.r.g.8.
With an Introduction by the Rt. Hon. Winston Churchill, and
numerous Illustrations from Photographs taken by the Author.
Demy 8vo. xzs. 6d. net.

SERVICE AND SPORT IN THE SUDAN.

A Record of Administrations in the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan, with
Intervals of Sport and Travel. By D. C. E. ff. Comyn, f.r.g.s.
(late of the Black Watch). With 31 Illustrations and 3 Maps.
Demy 8vo. izs. 6d. net.

STALKS IN THE HIMALAYA: Jottings of a

Sportsman-Naturalist. By E. P. Stebbing, f.r.g.s., f.z.s. With
upwards of 100 Illustrations by the Author and others. Demy 8vo.
izs. 6d. net.

JOHN LANE : BODLEY HEAD, VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.

!NipTICE

Those who possess old letters, documents^ corre-
spondence, MSS., scraps of autobiography, and
also miniatures and portraits, relating to persons
and matters historical, literary, political and social,
should communicate with Mr. John Lane, The
Bodley Head, Vigo Street, London, W ., who will
at all times be pleased to give his advice and
assistance, either as to their preservation or
publication.

LIVING MASTERS OF MUSIC.

An Illustrated Series of Monographs dealing with

Contemporary Musical Life, and including

Representatives of all Branches of the Art.

Edited by ROSA NEWMARCH.

Crown 8vo. Cloth. Price 2/6 net.

HENRY J. WOOD. By Rosa Newmarch.
SIR EDWARD ELGAR. By R. J. Buckley.
JOSEPH JOACHIM. By J. A. Fuller

Maitland.
EDWARD A. MACDOWELL. By Lawrence

GiLMAN.

THEODOR LESCHETIZKY. By Annetpe

Hull AH.
GIACOMO PUCCINI. By Wakeling Dry.
IGNAZ PADEREWSKI. By E. A. Baughan.
CLAUDE DEBUSSY. By Mrs. Franz Liebich.
RICHARD STRAUSS. By Ernest Newman.

STARS OF THE STAGE

A Series of Illustrated Biographies of the
Leading Actors, Actresses, and Dramatists.

Edited by J. T. GREIN.

Crown 8vo. Price 2/6 each net.

ELLEN TERRY. By Christopher St. John.
SIR HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE. By Mrs.

George Cran.
SIR W. S. GILBERT. By Edith A. Browne.
SIR CHARLES WYNDHAM. By Florence

Teignmouth Shore.

A CATALOGUE OF

MEMOIRS, 'BIOG'KATHIES, ETC.

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. (9 X 5| inches.) los. 6d.net.

AN IRISH BEAUTY OF THE REGENCY : By

Mrs. Warrenne Blake. Author of "Memoirs of a Vanished
Generation, i 8 1 3-1 85 5." With a Photogravure Frontispiece and
other Illustrations. Demy Svo. (9x5! inches.) i6s. net.

%* The Irish Beauty is the Hon. Mrs. Calvert, daughter of Viscount Pery,
Speaker of the Irish House of Commons, and wife of Nicholson Calvert, M. P., of
Hunsdson. Born in 1767, Mrs. Calvert lived to the age of ninety-two, and there
are many people still living who remember her. In the delightful journals, now
for the first time published, exciting events are described.

NAPOLEON IN CARICATURE : 1 795-1 821. By

A. M. Broadley. With an Introductory Essay on Pictorial Satire
as a Factor in Napoleonic History, by J. 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 Svo. (9x5! inches.) 42s. net.
Also an Edition de Luxe. 10 guineas net.

MEMORIES OF SIXTY YEARS AT ETON,

CAMBRIDGE AND ELSEWHERE. By Robert Browning.
Illustrated. Demy Svo. (9 X 5| inches.) 14s. net.

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 Svo. (9 X 5 j inches.) 2 vols. 25s.net.

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
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A CATALOGUE OF

WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH AND

HIS FRIENDS. By S. M. Ellis. With upwards of 50
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NAPOLEON AND KING MURAT. 1 808-1 8 15 :

A Biography compiled from hitherto Unknown and Unpublished
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by J. Lewis May. With a Photogravure Frontispiece and 1 6
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LADY CHARLOTTE SCHREIBER'S JOURNALS

Confidences of a Collector of Ceramics and Antiques throughout
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Montague Guest, with Annotations by Egan Mew. With
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CHARLES DE BOURBON, CONSTABLE OF

France : "The Great Condottiere." By Christopher Hare.
With a Photogravure Frontispiece and 16 other Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9 x 5| inches.) 12s. 6d.net.

THE NELSONS OF BURNHAM THORPE : A

Record of a Norfolk Family compiled from Unpublished Letters
and Note Books, 1787- 1843. Edited by M. Eyre Matcham.
With a Photogravure Frontispiece and 16 other Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) i6s. net.

%* This interesting contribution to Nels©n 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-lavr after their separation. What is even more strange,
he felt perfectly at liberty to go direct from the house of Mrs. Horatio Nelson in Nor-
folk to that of Sir. William and Lady Hamilton in London, where his son was staying.
This book shows how complerely and without reserve the family received Lady
Hamilton.

A QUEEN OF SHREDS AND PATCHES : The

Life of Madame Tallien Notre Dame de Thermidor. From the
last days of th.e French Revolution, until her death as Princess
Chimay in 1835. By L. Gastine. Translated from the French
by J. Lewis May. With a Photogravure Frontispiece and 16
other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9 X 5| inches.) 12s.6d.net.

MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. 5

SOPHIE DAWES, QUEEN OF CHANTILLY.

By VioLETTE M. Montagu. Author of "The Scottish College in
Paris," etc. With a Photogravure Frontispiece and i6 other
Illustrations and Three Plans. Demy 8vo. (9X5J inches.)
I2S. 6d. net.

%*Among the many queens of France, queens by right of marriage with the reigning
sovereign, queens of beauty or of intrigue, 'he name of Sophie Dawes, ihe daughter
of humble tisherfolk in the Isle of Wight, better known as "the notorious Mme. de
Feucheres," "The Queen of Chantilly" and "The Montespan de Saint Leu" in the land
which she chose as a suitable sphere in which to excercise her talents for money-
making and for getting on in the world, stand forth as a proof of what a women's will
can accomplish when that will is accompanied with an uncommon share of intelligence.

MARGARET OF FRANCE DUCHESS OF

SAVOY. 1 523-1 574. A Biography with Photogravure Frontis-
piece and 16 other Illustrations and Facsmile Reproductions
of Hitherto Unpublished Letters. Demy 8vo. (9X5! inches.)
I2s. 6d. net.

*^^*A time when the Italians are celebrating the Jubliee of the Italian Kingdom
is perhaps no unfitting moment in which to glance back over the annals of that royal
House 01 Savoy which has rendered Italian unity possible. Margaret of France rnay
without exaggeration be counted among the builders of modern Italv. She married
Emanuel Fhilibert, the founder of Savoyard greatness: and from the day of her
marriage until the day of her death she laboured to advance the interests of her
adopted land.

MADAME DE BRINVILLIERS AND HER

TIMES. 1630-1676. By Hugh Stokes. With a Photogravure
Frontispiece and 16 other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9X5J
inches.) 12s. 6d. net.

%* The name of Marie Marguerite d' Aubray, Marquise de Brinvilliers, is famous
is famous in the annals of crime, but the true history other 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. This chief doeuvre of misery and
agony forms the frontispiece to the volume, and strikes a fitting keynote to an
absorbing story of human passion and wrong-doing.

THE VICISSITUDES OF A LADY-IN-WAITING.

1 73 5- 1 82 1. By Eugene Welvert. Translated from the French
by Lilian O'Neill. With a Photogravure Frontispiece and 16
other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9X 5| inches.) 12s. 6d. net.

%* The Duchesse de Narbonne-Lara was Lady-in-Waiting to Madame Adelaide,
the eldest daughter of Louis XV. Around the stately figure of this Princess are
gathered the most remarkable characters of the days of the Old Regime, the
Revolution and the fist Empire. The great charm of the work is that it takes us over so
much and varied ground. Here, in the gay crowd of ladies and courtiers, in the rustle
of flowery silken paniers, in the clatter of high-heeled shoes, move the figures of
Louis XV., Louis XVI., Du Barri and Marie-Antoinette. We catch picturesque
glimpses of the great wits, diplomatists and soldiers of the time, until, finally we
encounter Napoleon Bonaparte.

A CATALOGUE OF

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. (9 X 5| inches.) 2 vols. 32s. net.

MINIATURES: A Series of Reproductions in

Photogravure of Eighty- Five 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. 1 5 guineas net.

THE LAST JOURNALS OF HORACE

WALPOLE. During the Reign of George III. from 1771-1783.
With Notes by Dr. Doran. Edited with an Introduction by A.
Francis Steuart, and containing numerous Portraits reproduced
from contemporary Pictures, Engravings, etc. 2 vols. Demy 8vo.
(9 X Sl inches.) 25s. net.

THE WAR IN WEXFORD. By H. F. B.

Wheeler and A. M. Broadley. An Account of The Rebellion
in South of Ireland in 1798, told from Original Documents.
With numerous Reproductions of contemporary Portraits and
Engravings. Demy 8vo. (9X5I inches.) 12s. 6d. net.

RECOLLECTIONS OF GUY DE MAUPASSANT.

by His Valet FRAN901S. Translated from the French by Maurice
Reynold. Demy 8vo. (9X 5| inches.) 7s. 6d. net.

FAMOUS AMERICANS IN PARIS. By John

Joseph Conway, M.A. With 32 Full-page Illustrations. Demy
8vo. (9X5I inches.) los. 6d. net.

LIFE AND MEMOIRS OF JOHN CHURTON

COLLINS. Written and Compiled by his son, L. C. Collins.
Demy 8vo. (9 X 5| inches.) 7s. 6d. net.

MEMOIRS BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. 7

THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. By

Joseph Turquan. Author of "The Love Affairs of Napoleon,"
etc. Translated from the French by Miss Violette Montagu.
With a Photogravure Frontispiece and i6 other Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9 X 5| inches.) 12s.6d.net.

*«* Although much has been written concerning the Empress Josephine, we
know comparatively liltle about the veuve Beauharnais and the ciioyenne 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.

A SISTER OF PRINCE RUPERT. ELIZABETH

PRINCESS PALATINE, ABBESS OF HERFORD. By
Elizabeth Godfrey. With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo.
(9 X 5| inches.) 12s, 6d.net.

AUGUSTUS SAINT GAUDENS : an Appreciation.

By C. Lewis Hind. Illustrated with 47 full-page Reproductions
from his most famous works. With a portrait of Keynon Cox.
Large 4to. 1 2s. 6d. net.

JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY AND HIS FAMILY:

By Mrs. Herbert St. John Mildmay. Further Letters and
Records, edited by his Daughter and Herbert St. John Mildmay,
with numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.)
1 6s. net.

SIMON BOLIVAR : El Libertador. A Life of the

Leader of the Venezuelan Revolt against Spain. By F. Loraine
Petre. With a Map and Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5!
inches.) 12s. 6d. net.

A LIFE OF SIR JOSEPH BANKS, PRESIDENT

OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY : With Some Notices of His
Friends and Contemporaries. By Edward Smith, F.R.H.S., Author
of "William Cobbett : a Biography," England and America
after the Independence," etc. With a Portrait in Photogravure
and 16 other Illustration. Demy 8 vo. (9 X 5| inches.)
1 2s. 6d. net.

*^* "The greatest living Englishman" was the tribute oi his Continental
contemporaries to Sir. Joseph Banks. The author of his "Life" has, with some
enthusiasm, sketched the record of a man who for a period of half a century filled a
very prominent place in society, but whose name is almost forgotten by the present
generation.

A CATALOGUE OF

NAPOLEON & THE INVASION OF ENGLAND :

The Story of the Great Terror, 1797-1805. By H. F. B.
Wheeler and A. M. Broadley. With upwards of 100 Full-
page Illustrations reproduced from Contemporary Portraits, Prints,
etc. ; eight in Colour. 2 Volumes. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.)
32s. net.

Outlook.— ''The book is not merely one to be ordered from the library; it should be
purchased, kept on an accessible shelf, and constantly studied by all Englishmen
who love England."

DUMOURIEZ AND THE DEFENCE OF

ENGLAND AGAINST NAPOLEON. By J. Holland
Rose, Litt.D. (Cantab.), Author of "The Life of Napoleon,"
and A. M. Broadley, joint-author of " Napoleon and the Invasion
of England." Illustrated with numerous Portraits, Maps, and
Facsimiles. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) 21s. net.

THE FALL OF NAPOLEON. By Oscar

Browning, M.A., Author of" The Boyhood and Youth of Napoleon."
With numerous Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9x5! inches).
I2S. 6d. net.

5/>*<:fo^or.— "Without doubt Mr. Oscar Browning has produced a book which should
have its place in any library of Napoleonic literature."

Truth.— "Mr. Oscar Browning has made not the least, but the most of the romantic
material at his command for the story of the fall of the greatest figure in history."

THE BOYHOOD & YOUTH OF NAPOLEON,

1 769- 1 793. Some Chapters on the early life of Bonaparte.
By Oscar Browning, m.a. With numerous Illustrations, Por-
traits etc. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.

Daily News.— ^^Mr. Browning has with patience, labour, careful study, and excellent
taste given us a very valuable work, which will add materially to the literature on
this most fascinating ot human personalities.

THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF NAPOLEON. By

Joseph Turquan. Translated from the French by James L. May.
With 32 Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9X5! inches).
I2S. 6d. net.

THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT(NAPOLEON IL)

By Edward de Wertheimer. Translated from the German.
With numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9X5I inches.)
2 IS. net. (Second Edition.)

Times.— '*A most careful and interesting work which presents the first complete and
authoritative account of this unfortunate Prince."

Westminster Gazette.— \'Th\s book, admirably produced, reinforced by many
additional portraits, is a solid contribution to history and a monument of patient,
well-applied research."

MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. 9

NAPOLEON'S CONQUEST OF PRUSSIA, 1806.

By F. LoRAiNE Petre. With an Introduction by Field-
Marshal Earl Roberts, V.C, K.G., etc. With Maps, Battle
Plans, Portraits, and i6 Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo.
(9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

Sffo/swflM.— "Neither too concise, nor too diffuse, the book is eminently readable. It
is the best work in Enj^lish on a somewhat circumscribed subject."

Outlook. — "Mr. Petre has visited the battlefields and read everthing, and his
monograph is a model of what mililary history, handled with enthusiasm and
literary ability, can be."

NAPOLEON'S CAMPAIGN IN POLAND, 1806-

1807. A Military History of Napoleon's First War with Russia,
verified from unpublished official documents. By F. Loraine
Petre. With 1 6 Full-page Illustrations, Maps, and Plans. New
Edition. Demy Svo. (9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

v<»'>«j/a«rfA''azy'C/tro«fc/tf.— "We welcome a second edition of this valuable work. . . .
Mr. Loraine Petre is an authority on the wars of the great Napoleon, and has
brought the greatest care and energy into his studies of the subject."

NAPOLEON AND THE ARCHDUKE

CHARLES. A History of the Franco-Austrian Campaign in
the Valley of the Danube in 1809. By F. Loraine Petre.
With 8 Illustrations and 6 sheets of Maps and Plans. Demy Svo.
(9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

RALPH HEATHCOTE. Letters of a Diplomatist

During the Time of Napoleon, Giving an Account of the Dispute
between the Emperor and the Elector of Hesse. By Countess
Gunther GrSben. With Numerous Illustrations. Demy Svo.
(9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

MEMOIRS OF THE COUNT DE CARTRIE.

A record of the extraordinary events in the life of a French
Royalist during the w^ar in La Vendee, and of his flight to South-
ampton, where he followed the humble occupation of gardener.
With an introduction by Frederic Masson, Appendices and Notes
by Pierre Amedee Pichot, and other hands, and numerous Illustra-
tions, including a Photogravure Portrait of the Author. Demy Svo.
(9x5! inches.) 12s. 6d. net.

Daily Nezvs.—''\Ve have seldom met with a human document wliich has interested us
so much."

lo A CATALOGUE OF

THE JOURNAL OF JOHN MAYNE DURING
A TOUR ON THE CONTINENT UPON ITS RE-
OPENING AFTER THE FALL OF NAPOLEON, 1814.
Edited by his Grandson, John Mayne Colles. With 16
Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

WOMEN OF THE SECOND EMPIRE.

Chronicles of the Court of Napoleon III. By Frederic Loli^e.
With an introduction by Richard Whiteing, and 53 full-page
Illustrations, 3 in Photogravure. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.)
2 IS. net.

Statidayd.—'^l\. Frederic Loliee has written a remarkable book, vivid and pitiless in
its description of the intrigue and dare-devil spirit which flourished unchecked at
the French Court. ... Mr. Richard Whilemg's introduction is written with
restraint and dignity.

MEMOIRS OF MADEMOISELLE DES

ECHEROLLES. Translated from the French by Marie
Clothilde Balfour. With an introduction by G. K. Fortescue,
Portraits, etc. 5s. net.

Liverpool Mercury.—''. . . this absorbing book. . . . Tlie work has a very
decided historical value. The translation is excellent, and quite notable in the
preservation of idiom.

GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO: A BIOGRAPHICAL

STUDY. By Edward Hutton. With a Photogravure Frontis-
piece and numerous other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9XSJ
inches) 1 6s. net.

THE LIFE OF PETER ILICH TCHAIKOVSKY

(i 840-1 893).. By his Brother, Modeste Tchaikovsky. Edited
and abridged from the Russian and German Editions by Rosa
Newmarch. With Numerous Illustrations and Facsimiles and an
Introduction by the Editor. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.)
7s. 6d. net. Second edition.

The Times.— ''A most illuminating commentary on Tchaikovsky's music."
lyorld.— "■One of the most fascinating self-revelations by an artist which has been
given to the world. The translation is excellent, and worth reading for its own
sake."
Contemporarv Review.— -''Yhehook'ssi^^esX is, of course, primarily to the music-lover ;
but there is so much of human and literary interest in it, such intimate revelation
of a singularly interesting personality, that many who have never come under the
spell of the Pathetic Symphony will be strongly attracted by what is virtually the
spiritual autobiography of its composer. High praise is due to the translator and
editor for the literary skill with which she has prepared the English version of
this fascinating work. . . There have been few collections of letters published
within recent .years that give so vivid a portrait of the writer as that presented to
us in these pages."

MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. i i

THE LIFE OF SIR HALLIDAY MACART-

NEY, K.C.M.G., Commander of Li Hung Chang's trained
force in the Taeping Rebellion, founder of the first Chinese
Arsenal, Secretary to the first Chinese Embassy to Europe.
Secretary and Councillor to the Chinese Legation in London for
thirty years. By Dkmetrius C. Boulger, Author of the
" History of China," the " Life of Gordon," etc. With Illus-
trations. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) Price 21s. net.

DEVONSHIRE CHARACTERS AND STRANGE

EVENTS. By S. Baring-Gould, m.a., Author of " Yorkshire
Oddities," etc. With 58 Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5!
inches.) 21s. net.

Daily News. — "A fascinating series . . . the whole book is rich in human interest.
It is by personal touches, drawn from traditions and memories, that the dead men
surrounded by the curious panoply of their time, are made to live again in Mr.
Baring-Gould's pages.''

THE HEART OF GAMBETTA. Translated

from the French of Francis Laur by Violette Montagu.
With an Introduction by John Macdonald, Portraits and other
Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9 X 5| inches.) 7s. 6 J, net.

Daily Telegraph.~''lt is Gambetta pouring out his soul to L^onie Leon, the strange,
passionate, masterful demagogue, who wielded the most persuasive oratory of
modern times, acknowledging his idol, his inspiration, his Egeria."

THE LIFE OF JOAN OF ARC. By Anatole

France. A Translation by Winifred Stephens. With 8 Illus-
trations. Demy 8vo (9x5! inches). 2 vols. Price 25s. net.

THE DAUGHTER OF LOUIS XVI. Marie-

Therese-Charlotte of France, Duchesse D'Angouleme. By G.
Lenotre. With 13 Full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5!
inches.) Price los. 6d. net.

WITS, BEAUX, AND BEAUTIES OF THE

GEORGIAN ERA. By John Fyvie, author of " Some Famous
Women of Wit and Beauty," "Comedy Queens of the Georgian
Era," etc. With a Photogravure Portrait aud numerous other
Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9x5! inches). 12s. 6d. net.

MADAME DE MAINTENON : Her Life and

Times, 1 65 5-1 719. By C. C. Dyson. With i Photogravure
Plate and 16 other Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9 x 5| inches).
I2S. 6d. net.

12 A CATALOGUE OF

DR. JOHNSON AND MRS. THRALE. By

A. M. Broadley. With an Introductory Chapter by Thomas
Seccombe. With 24 Illustrations from rare originals, including
a reproduction in colours of the Fellowes Miniature of Mrs.
Piozzi by Roche, and a Photogravure of Harding's sepia drawing
of Dr. Johnson. Demy 8vo (9 X 5| inches). i6s. net.

THE DAYS OF THE DIRECTOIRE. By

Alfred Allinson, M.A. With 48 Full-page Illustrations,
including many illustrating the dress of the time. Demy 8to
(9 X 5 1 inches). 1 6s. net.

HUBERT AND JOHN VAN EYCK : Their Life

and Work. By W. H. James Weale. With 41 Photogravure

and 95 Black and White Reproductions. Royal 4to. ^^5 5 s. net.

Sir Martin Conway's Note.
Nearly half a century has passed since Mr. W. H, James Weale, then resident at
Bruges, began that long series of patient investigations into the history of
Netherlandish art which was destined to earn so rich a harvest. When he began
work Memlinc was still called Hemling, and was fabled to have arrived at Bruges
as a wounded soldier. The van Eycks were little more than legendary heroes.
Roger Van der Weyden was little more than a name. Most ofthe other great
Netherlandish artists were either wholly forgotten or named only in connection
with paintings with which they had nothing to do. Mr. Weale discovered Gerard
David, and disentangled his principal works from Memlinc's, with which they were
then confused.

VINCENZO FOPPA OF BRESCIA, Founder of

The Lombard School, His Life and Work. By Constance
JocELYN Ffoulkes and Monsignor Rodolfo Majocchi, D.D.,
Rector of the CoUegio Borromeo, Pavia. Based on research in the
Archives of Milan, Pavia, Brescia, and Genoa and on the study
of all his known works. With over 100 Illustrations, many in
Photogravure, and 100 Documents. Royal 4to. ^^5 5s. od. net.

MEMOIRS OF THE DUKES OF URBINO.

Illustrating the Arms, Art and Literature of Italy from 1440 to
1630. By James Dennistoun of Dennistoun. A New Edition
edited by Edward Hutton, with upwards of 100 Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9 x 5| inches.) 3 vols. 42s.net.

THE DIARY OF A LADY-IN-WAITING. By

Lady Charlotte Bury. Being the Diary Illustrative of the
Times of George the Fourth. Interspersed with original Letters
from the late Queen Caroline and from various other distinguished
persons New edition. Edited, with an Introduction, by A.
Francis Steuart. With numerous portraits. Two Vols.
Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) 21s. net.

MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. 13

THE LAST JOURNALS OF HORACE WAL-

POLE. During the Reign of George III from 1771 to 1783.
With Notes by Dr. Doran. Edited with an Introduction by
A. Francis Steuart, and containing numerous Portraits (2 in
Photogravure) reproduced from contemporary Pictures, Engravings,
etc. 2 vols. Uniform with " The Diary of a Lady-in-Waiting."
Demy 8vo. (9 X 5 finches). 25s.net.

JUNIPER HALL : Rendezvous of certain illus-

trious Personages during the French Revolution, including Alex-
ander D'Arblay and Fanny Burney. Compiled by Constance
Hill. With numerous Illustrations by Ellen G. Hill, and repro-
ductions from various Contemporary Portraits. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.

JANE AUSTEN : Her Homes and Her Friends.

By Constance Hill. Numerous Illustrations by Ellen G. Hill,
together with Reproductions from Old Portraits,etc. Cr. 8v05s.net.

THE HOUSE IN ST. MARTIN'S STREET.

Being Chronicles of the Burney Family. By Constance Hill,
Author of " Jane Austen, Her Home, and Her Friends," " Juniper
Hall," etc. With numerous Illustrations by Ellen G. Hill, and
reproductions of Contemporary Portraits, etc. Demy 8vo. 21s. net.

STORY OF THE PRINCESS DES URSINS IN

SPAIN (Camarera-Mayor). By Constance Hill. With 12
Illustrations and a Photogravure Frontispiece. New Edition.
Crown 8vo. 5s. net.

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 8vo.
(9 X 5 1 inches). 21s. net.

CESAR FRANCK : A Study. Translated from the
French of Vincent d'Indy, with an Introduction by Rosa New-
march. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) js. 6d. net.

MEN AND LETTERS. By Herbert Paul, m.p.

Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s. net.

ROBERT BROWNING : Essays and Thoughts.
By J. T. Nettleship. With Portrait. Crown 8ro. 5s. 6d, net.
(Third Edition).

14 A CATALOGUE OF

NEW LETTERS OF THOMAS CARLYLE.

Edited and Annotated by Alexandar Carlyle, with Notes and
an Introduction and numerous Illustrations. In Two Volumes.
Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) 25s. net.

Pall Mall Gazette.— ^^To the portrait of the man, Thomas, these letters do really add
value ; we can learn to respect and to like him more for the genuine goodness ot
his personality.

Literary TVorld.—'^lt is then Carlyle, the nobly filial son, we see in these letters;

Carlj'le, the generous and affectionate brother, the loyal and warm-hearted

friend, . . . and above all, Carlyle as a tender and faithful lover of his wife."
Daily Telegraph. — "The letters are characteristic enough ol the Carlyle we know : very

picturesque and entertaining, lull of extravagant emphasis, written, as a rule, at

tever heat, eloquently rabid and emotional."

NEW LETTERS AND MEMORIALS OF JANE

WELSH CARLYLE. A Collection of hitherto Unpublished
Letters. Annotated by Thomas Carlyle, and Edited by
Alexander Carlyle, with an Introduction by Sir James Crichton
Browne, m.d., lld., f.r.s., numerous Illustrations drawn in Litho-
graphy by T. R. Way, and Photogravure Portraits from hitherto
unreproduced Originals. In Two Vols. Demy 8vo. (9X5I
inches.) 25s. net.

Westminister Gazette.— ^^ Few letters in the language have in such perfection the
qualities which good letters should possess. Frank, gay, brilliant, indiscreet,
immensely clever, whimsical, and audacious, they reveal a character which, with
whatever alloj' of human infirmity, must endear itself to any reader of
understanding."

IVorld.—'' Throws a deal of new light on the domestic relations of the Sage of Chelsea
They also contain the full text of Mrs. Carlyle's fascinating journal, and her own
'humorous and quaintly candid' narrative of her first love-affair."

THE LOVE LETTERS OF THOMAS CAR-
LYLE AND JANE WELSH. Edited by Alexander Carlyle,
Nephew of Thomas Carlyle, editor of *' New Letters and
Memorials of Jane Welsh Carlyle," " New Letters of Thomas
Carlyle," etc. With 2 Portraits in colour and numerous other
Illustrations, Demy 8vo (9x5! inches). 2 vols. 25s. net.

CARLYLE'S FIRST LOVE. Margaret Gordon—

Lady Bannerman. An account of her Life, Ancestry and
Homes ; her Family and Friends. By R. C, Archibald. With
20 Portraits and Illustrations, including a Frontispiece in Colour.
Demy 8vo (9x5! inches). los. 6d. net.

EMILE ZOLA : Novelist and Reformer. An

Account of his Life, Work, and Influence. By E. A. Vizetelly.
With numerous Illustrations, Portraits, etc. Demy 8vo. 21s. net.

MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc. 15

MEMOIRS OF THE MARTYR KING : being a

detailed record of the last two years of the Reign of His Most
Sacred Majesty King Charles the First, 1646-1648-9. Com-
piled by Alan Fea. With upwards of 100 Photogravure
Portraits and other Illustrations, including relics. Royal 4to.
£^ 5s. od. net.

MEMOIRS OF A VANISHED GENERATION

1811-1855. Edited by Mrs. Warrenne Blake. With numerous
Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) i6s. net.

THE KING'S GENERAL IN THE WEST,

being the Life of Sir Richard Granville, Baronet (1600- 1659).
By Roger Granville, M.A., Sub-Dean of Exeter Cathedral.
With Illustrations. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) los. 6d. net.

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF ROBERT

Stephen Hawker, sometime Vicar of Morwenstow in Cornwall.
By C. E. Byles. With numerous Illustrations by J. Ley
Pethybridge and others. Demy 8vo. (9X5! inches.)
ys. 6d. net.

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM BLAKE. By Alexander

Gilchrist, Edited with an Introduction by W. Graham Robertson.
Numerous Reproductions from Blake's most characteristic and
remarkable designs. Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) los. 6d. net.
New Edition.

GEORGE MEREDITH : Some Characteristics.

By Richard Le Gallienne. With a Bibliography (much en-
larged) by John Lane. Portrait, etc. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. Fifth
Edition. Revised.

A QUEEN OF INDISCRETIONS. The Tragedy

of Caroline of Brunswick, Queen of England. From the Italian
of G. P. Clerici. Translated by Frederic Chapman. With
numerous Illustrations reproduced from contemporary Portraits and
Prints. Demy 8vo. (9 x 5 f inches.) 21s.net.

LETTERS AND JOURNALS OF SAMUEL

GRIDLEY HOWE. Edited by his Daughter Laura E.
Richards. With Notes and a Preface by F. B. Sanborn, an
Introduction by Mrs. John Lane, and a Portrait. Demy 8vo
(9 X 5 1 inches). i6s.net.

1 6 MEMOIRS, BIOGRAPHIES, Etc.
GRIEG AND HIS MUSIC. By H. T. Finck,

Author of " Wagner and his Works," etc. With Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9x5! inches.) 7s. 6d. net.

EDWARD A. MACDOWELL : a Biography. By

Lawrence Oilman, Author of " Phases of Modern Music,"
"Strauss' 'Salome,'" "The Music of To-morrow and Other
Studies," "Edward Macdowell," etc. Profusely illustrated.
Crown 8vo. 5 s. net.

THE LIFE OF ST. MARY MAGDALEN.

Translated from the Italian of an unknown Fourteenth-Century
Writer by Valentina Hawtrey. With an Introductory Note by
Vernon Lee, and 14 Full-page Reproductions from the Old Masters.
Crown 8vo. 5 s. net.

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. A

Biography by Lewis Melville. With 2 Photogravures and
numerous other Illustrations. Demy 8vo (9x5! inches).
25 s. net.

A LATER PEPYS. The Correspondence of Sir

William Weller Pepys, Bart., Master in Chancery, 1 758-1 825,
with Mrs. Chapone, Mrs. Hartley, Mrs. Montague, Hannah More,
William Franks, Sir James Macdonald, Major Rennell, Sir
Nathaniel Wraxall, and others. Edited, with an Introduction and
Notes, by Alice C, C, Gaussen. With numerous Illustrations.
Demy 8vo. (9 X 5| inches.) In Two Volumes. 32s.net.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, AN ELEGY;

AND OTHER POEMS, MAINLY PERSONAL. By
Richard Le Gallienne. Crown 8vo. 45. 6d. net.

RUDYARD KIPLING : a Criticism, By Richard

Le Gallienne. With a Bibliography by John Lane. Crown
8vo, 3s. 6d. net.

THE LIFE OF W. J. FOX, Public Teacher and
Social Reformer, 1 786-1864. By the late Richard Garnett,
C.B., LL.D., concluded by Edward Garnett. Demy 8vo.
(9 X 5 1 inches). 1 6s. net.

JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD, VIGO STREET, LONDON, W.

AMNH LIBRARY

100106788

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