vigorous canary-like song. The bulbuls tinkle as blithely as ever.
Ioras, pied wagtails, pied chats, and wood-shrikes continue to
contribute their not unworthy items to the minstrelsy of the Indian
countryside. The robins, having by now found their true notes, are
singing sweetly and softly. The white-eyes are no longer content to
utter their usual cheeping call, the cocks give vent to an exquisite
warble and thereby proclaim the advent of the nesting season. The
_towee_, _towee_, _towee_, of the tailor-bird, more penetrating than
melodious, grows daily more vigorous, reminding us that we may now
hopefully search for his nest. Among the less pleasing sounds that
fill the welkin are the _tonk_, _tonk_, _tonk_ of the coppersmith, the
_kutur_, _kutur_, _kuturuk_ of the green barbet, and the calls of the
various cuckoos that summer in the plains of Northern India. The calls
of these cuckoos, although frequently heard in April, are uttered more
continuously in May, accordingly they are described in the calendar
for that month.
The owls, of course, lift up their voices, particularly on moonlight
nights. The nightjars are as vociferous as they were in March; their
breeding season is now at its height.
In the hills the woods resound with the cheerful double note of the
European cuckoo (_Cuculus canorus_). This bird is occasionally heard
in the plains of the Punjab in April, and again from July to
September, when it no longer calls in the Himalayas. This fact,
coupled with the records of the presence of the European cuckoo in
Central India in June and July, lends support to the theory that the
birds which enliven the Himalayas in spring go south in July and
winter in the Central Provinces. Cuckoos, at seasons when they are
silent, are apt to be overlooked, or mistaken for shikras.
Ornithologists stationed in Central India will render a service to
science if they keep a sharp look-out for European cuckoos and record
the results of their observations. In this way alone can the above
theory be proved or disproved.
By the middle of the month most of the rollers have settled down to
domestic duties, and in consequence are less noisy than they were when
courting. Their irritating grating cries are now largely replaced by
harsh _tshocks_ of delight, each _tshock_ being accompanied by a
decisive movement of the tail. The cause of these interjections
expressing delight is a clutch of white eggs or a brood of young
birds, hidden in a hole in a tree or a building.
April is a month in which the pulse of bird life beats very vigorously
in India. He who, braving the heat, watches closely the doings of the
feathered folk will be rewarded by the discovery of at least thirty
different kinds of nests. Hence, it is evident that the calendar for
this month, unless it is to attain very large dimensions, must be a
mere catalogue of nesting species. The compiler of the calendar has to
face an _embarrass de richesses_.
Of the common species that build in March and the previous months the
following are likely to be found with eggs or young--the jungle crows,
sunbirds, doves, pied and golden-backed woodpeckers, coppersmiths,
hoopoes, common and brahminy kites, bulbuls, shrikes, little minivets,
fantail flycatchers, wire-tailed swallows, paroquets, spotted owlets,
swifts, scavenger vultures, red-headed merlins, skylarks, crested
larks, pipits, babblers, sand-martins, cliff-swallows, nuthatches,
white-eyed buzzards, kites, black vultures, pied and white-breasted
kingfishers, finch-larks, Indian wren-warblers, wood-shrikes,
cuckoo-shrikes, green barbets, tawny eagles, and the terns and the
other birds that nest on islets in rivers. Here and there may be seen
a white-backed vulture's nest containing a young bird nearly ready to
fly.
Towards the middle of the month the long-tailed tree-pies
(_Dendrocitta rufa_), which are nothing else than coloured crows,
begin nest-building. They are to be numbered among the commonest birds
in India, nevertheless their large open nests are rarely seen. The
explanation of this phenomenon appears to be the fact that the nest is
well concealed high up in a tree. Moreover, the pie, possessing a
powerful beak which commands respect, is not obliged constantly to
defend its home after the manner of small or excitable birds, and thus
attract attention to it.
Fortunately for the tree-pie the kites and crows do not worry it. The
shikra (_Astur badius_) and the white-eyed buzzard (_Butastur teesa_),
which are now engaged in nest-building, are not so fortunate. The
crows regard them as fair game, hence their nest-building season is a
time of _sturm und drang_. They, in common with all diurnal birds of
prey, build untidy nests in trees--mere conglomerations of sticks,
devoid of any kind of architectural merit. The blue rock-pigeons
(_Columba intermedia_) are busily prospecting for nesting sites. In
some parts of India, especially in the Muttra and Fatehgarh districts,
these birds nest chiefly in holes in wells. More often than not a
stone thrown into a well in such a locality causes at least one pigeon
to fly out of the well. In other places in India these birds build by
preference on a ledge or a cornice inside some large building. They
often breed in colonies. At Dig in Rajputana, where they are sacred in
the eyes of Hindus, thousands of them nest in the fort, and, as Hume
remarks, a gun fired in the moat towards evening raises a dense cloud
of pigeons, "obscuring utterly the waning day and deafening one with
the mighty rushing sound of countless strong and rapidly-plied
pinions." According to Hume the breeding season for these birds in
Upper India lasts from Christmas to May day. The experience of the
writer is that April, May and June are the months in which to look for
their nests. However, in justice to Hume, it must be said that
recently Mr. A. J. Currie found a nest, containing eggs, in February.
In April the green pigeons pair and build slender cradles, high up in
mango trees, in which two white eggs are laid.
The songster of the house-top--the brown rock-chat (_Cercomela
fusca_)--makes sweet music throughout the month for the benefit of his
spouse, who is incubating four pretty pale-blue eggs in a nest built
on a ledge in an outhouse or on the sill of a clerestory window. This
bird, which is thought by some to be a near relative of the sparrow of
the Scriptures, is clothed in plain brown and seems to suffer from St.
Vitus' dance in the tail. Doubtless it is often mistaken for a hen
robin. For this mistake there is no excuse, because the rock-chat
lacks the brick-red patch under the tail.
April is the month in which to look for two exquisite little
nests--those of the white-eye (_Zosterops palpebrosa_) and the iora
(_Aegithina tiphia_). White-eyes are minute greenish-yellow birds with
a conspicuous ring of white feathers round the eye. They go about in
flocks. Each individual utters unceasingly a plaintive cheeping note
by means of which it keeps its fellows apprised of its whereabouts. At
the breeding season, that is to say in April and May, the cock sings
an exceedingly sweet, but very soft, lay of six or seven notes. The
nest is a cup, about 2-1/2 inches in diameter and 3/4 of an inch in
depth. It is usually suspended, like a hammock, from the fork of a
branch; sometimes it is attached to the end of a single bough; it then
looks like a ladle, the bough being the handle. It is composed of
cobweb, roots, hair and other soft materials. Three or four tiny
pale-blue eggs are laid.
The iora is a feathered exquisite, about the size of a tomtit. The
cock is arrayed in green, black and gold; his mate is gowned in green
and yellow.
The iora has a great variety of calls, of these a soft and rather
plaintive long-drawn-out whistle is uttered most frequently in April
and May.
In shape and size the nest resembles an after-dinner coffee cup. It is
beautifully woven, and, like those of the white-eye and fantail
flycatcher, covered with cobweb; this gives it a very neat appearance.
In it are laid two or three eggs of salmon hue with reddish-brown and
purple-grey blotches.
Throughout April the sprightly tailor-birds are busy with their nests.
The tailor-bird (_Orthotomus sutorius_) is a wren with a long tail. In
the breeding season the two median caudal feathers of the cock project
as bristles beyond the others. The nest is a wonderful structure.
Having selected a suitable place, which may be a bush in a garden or a
pot plant in a verandah, the hen tailor-bird proceeds to make, with
her sharp bill, a series of punctures along the margins of one or more
leaves. The punctured edges are then drawn together, by means of
strands of cobweb, to form a purse or pocket. When this has been done
the frail bands of cobweb, which hold the edges of the leaves _in
situ_, are strengthened by threads of cotton. Lastly, the purse is
cosily lined with silk-cotton down or other soft material. Into the
cradle, thus formed, three or four white eggs, speckled with red, find
their way.
In April cavities in trees and buildings suitable for nesting purposes
are at a premium owing to the requirements of magpie-robins, brahminy
mynas, common mynas, yellow-throated sparrows and rollers. Not
uncommonly three or four pairs of birds nest in one weather-beaten old
tree.
Bank-mynas, white-breasted kingfishers, bee-eaters and a few belated
sand-martins are nesting in sandbanks in cavities which they
themselves have excavated. The nests of the kingfisher and the
sand-martin have already been described, that of the bank-myna belongs
to May rather than to April.
Bee-eaters working at the nest present a pleasing spectacle. The sexes
excavate turn about. The site chosen may be a bunker on the golf
links, the butts on the rifle range, a low mud boundary between two
fields, or any kind of bank. The sharp claws of the bee-eaters enable
the birds to obtain a foothold on an almost vertical surface; this
foothold is strengthened by the tail which, being stiff, acts as a
third leg. In a surprisingly short time a cavity large enough to
conceal the bird completely is formed. The bee-eater utilises the bill
as pickaxe and the feet as ejectors. The little clouds of sand that
issue at short intervals from each cavity afford evidence of the
efficacy of these implements and the industry of those that use them.
Two of the most charming birds in India are now occupied with family
cares. These are both black-and-white birds--the magpie-robin
(_Copsychus saularis_) and the pied wagtail (_Motacilla
maderaspatensis_). The former has already been noticed as the best
songster in the plains of India. The pattern of its plumage resembles
that of the common magpie; this explains its English name. The hen is
grey where the cock is black, otherwise there is no external
difference between the sexes. For some weeks the cock has been singing
lustily, especially in the early morning and late afternoon. In April
he begins his courtship. His display is a simple affair--mere
tail-play; the tail is expanded into a fan, so as to show the white
outer feathers, then it is either raised and lowered alternately, or
merely held depressed. Normally the tail is carried almost vertically.
The nest is invariably placed in a cavity of a tree or a building.
The pied wagtail always nests near water. If not on the ground, the
nursery rests on some structure built by man.
A visit to a bridge of boats in April is sure to reveal a nest of this
charming bird. Hume records a case of a pair of pied wagtails nesting
in a ferry-boat. This, it is true, was seldom used, but did
occasionally cross the Jumna. On such occasions the hen would continue
to sit, while the cock stood on the gunwale, pouring forth his sweet
song, and made, from time to time, little sallies over the water after
a flying gnat. Mr. A. J. Currie found at Lahore a nest of these
wagtails in a ferry-boat in daily use; so that the birds must have
selected the site and built the nest while the boat was passing to and
fro across the river!
Yet another black-and-white bird nests in April. This is the pied
bush-chat (_Pratincola caprata_). The cock is black all over, save for
a white patch on the rump and a bar of white in the wing. He delights
to sit on a telegraph wire or a stem of elephant grass and there make
cheerful melody. The hen is a dull reddish-grey bird. The nest is
usually placed in a hole in the ground or a bank or a wall, sometimes
it is wedged into a tussock of grass.
Allied to the magpie-robin and the pied bush-chat is the familiar
Indian robin (_Thamnobia cambayensis_), which, like its relatives, is
now engaged in nesting operations. This species constructs its
cup-shaped nest in all manner of strange places. Spaces in stacks of
bricks, holes in the ground or in buildings, and window-sills are held
in high esteem as nesting sites. The eggs are not easy to describe
because they display great variation. The commonest type has a pale
green shell, speckled with reddish-brown spots, which are most densely
distributed at the thick end of the egg.
Many of the grey partridges (_Francolinus pondicerianus_) are now
nesting. This species is somewhat erratic in respect of its breeding
season. Eggs have been taken in February, March, April, May, June,
September, October, and November. The April eggs, however, outnumber
those of all the other months put together. The nest is a shallow
depression in the ground, lined with grass, usually under a bush. From
six to nine cream-coloured eggs are laid.
Another bird which is now incubating eggs on the ground is the
did-he-do-it or red-wattled lapwing (_Sarcogrammus indicus_). The
curious call, from which this plover derives its popular name, is
familiar to every resident in India. This species nests between March
and August. The 122 eggs in the possession of Hume were taken, 12 in
March, 46 in April, 24 in May, 26 in June, 4 in July, and 8 in August.
Generally in a slight depression on the ground, occasionally on the
ballast of a rail-road, four pegtop-shaped eggs are laid; these are,
invariably, placed in the form of a cross, so that they touch each
other at their thin ends. They are coloured like those of the common
plover. The yellow-wattled lapwing (_Sarciophorus malabaricus_), which
resembles its cousin in manners and appearance, nests in April, May
and June.
The nesting season of the various species of sand-grouse that breed in
India is now beginning. These birds, like lapwings, lay their eggs on
the ground.
In April one may come across an occasional nest of the pied starling,
the king-crow, the paradise flycatcher, the grey hornbill, and the
oriole, but these are exceptions. The birds in question do not as a
rule begin to nest until May, and their doings accordingly are
chronicled in the calendar for that month.
MAY
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year.
_The Minstrelsy of the Woods_.
Low from the brink the waters shrink;
The deer all snuff for rain;
The panting cattle search for drink
Cracked glebe and dusty plain;
The whirlwind, like a furnace blast,
Sweeps clouds of darkening sand.
WATERFIELD, _Indian Ballads_.
Now the burning summer sun
Hath unchalleng'd empire won
And the scorching winds blow free,
Blighting every herb and tree.
R. T. H. GRIFFITH.
May in the plains of India! What unpleasant memories it recalls!
Stifling nights in which sleep comes with halting steps and departs
leaving us unrefreshed. Long, dreary days beneath the punkah in a
closed bungalow which has ceased to be enlivened by the voices of the
children and the patter of their little feet. Hot drives to office,
under a brazen sky from which the sun shines with pitiless power, in
the teeth of winds that scorch the face and fill the eyes with dust.
It is in this month of May that the European condemned to existence in
the plains echoes the cry of the psalmist: "Oh that I had wings like a
dove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest"--in the Himalayas.
There would I lie beneath the deodars and, soothed by the rustle of
their wind-caressed branches, drink in the pure cool air and listen to
the cheerful double note of the cuckoo. The country-side in the plains
presents a sorry spectacle. The gardens that had some beauty in the
cold weather now display the abomination of desolation--a waste of
shrivelled flowers, killed by the relentless sun. The spring crops
have all been cut and the whole earth is dusty brown save for a few
patches of young sugar-cane and the dust-covered verdure of the mango
topes. It is true that the gold-mohur trees and the Indian laburnums
are in full flower and the air is heavily laden with the strong scent
of the _nim_ blossoms, but the heat is so intense that the European is
able to enjoy these gifts of nature only at dawn. Nor has the ripening
jack-fruit any attractions for him. He is repelled by its overpowering
scent and sickly flavour. Fortunately the tastes of all men are not
alike. In the eyes of the Indian this fruit is a dish fit to be set
before the gods. The _pipal_ trees, which are covered with tender
young leaves, now offer to the birds a feast in the form of numbers of
figs, no larger than cranberries. This generous offer is greedily
accepted by green pigeons, mynas and many other birds which partake
with right goodwill and make much noise between the courses. No matter
how intense the heat be, the patient cultivator issues forth with his
cattle before sunrise and works at his threshing floor until ten
o'clock, then he seeks the comparative coolness of the mango tope and
sleeps until the sun is well on its way to the western horizon, when
he resumes the threshing of the corn, not ceasing until the shades of
night begin to steal over the land.
The birds do not object to the heat. They revel in it. It is true that
in the middle of the day even they seek some shady tree in which to
enjoy a siesta and await the abatement of the heat of the blast
furnace in which they live, move and have their being. The long day,
which begins for them before 4 a.m., rather than the intense heat,
appears to be the cause of this midday sleep. Except during this
period of rest at noon the birds are more lively than they were in
April.
The breeding season is now at its height. In May over five hundred
species of birds nest in India. No individual is likely to come across
all these different kinds of nests, because, in order to do so, that
person would have to traverse India from Peshawar to Tinnevelly and
from Quetta to Tenasserim. Nevertheless, the man who remains in one
station, if he choose to put forth a little energy and defy the sun,
may reasonably expect to find the nests of more than fifty kinds of
birds. Whether he be energetic or the reverse he cannot fail to hear a
great many avian sounds both by day and by night. In May the birds are
more vociferous than at any other time of year. The fluty cries of the
koel and the vigorous screams of the brain-fever bird penetrate the
closed doors of the bungalow, as do, to a less extent, the chatter of
the seven sisters, the calls of the mynas, the _towee_, _towee_,
_towee_ of the tailor-bird, the _whoot_, _whoot_, _whoot_ of the
crow-pheasant, the monotonous notes of the coppersmith and the green
barbet, the _uk_, _uk_, _uk_ of the hoopoe, the cheerful music of the
fantail flycatcher, the three sweet syllables of the iora--_so be ye_,
the _tee_, _tee_, _tee_, _tee_ of the nuthatch, the liquid whistle of
the oriole and, last but not least, the melody of the magpie-robin.
The calls of the hoopoe and nuthatch become less frequent as the month
draws to a close; on the other hand, the melody of the oriole gains in
strength.
As likely as not a pair of blue jays has elected to rear a brood of
young hopefuls in the chimney or in a hole in the roof. When this
happens the human occupant of the bungalow is apt to be driven nearly
to distraction by the cries of the young birds, which resemble those
of some creature in distress, and are uttered with "damnable
reiteration."
All these sounds, however, reach in muffled form the ear of a human
being shut up in a bungalow; hence it is the voices of the night
rather than those of the day with which May in India is associated.
Most people sleep out of doors at this season, and, as the excessive
heat makes them restless, they have ample opportunity of listening to
the nightly concert of the feathered folk. The most notable performers
are the cuckoos. These birds are fully as nocturnal as the owls. The
brain-fever bird (_Hierococcyx varius_) is now in full voice, and may
be heard, both by day and by night, in all parts of Northern India,
east of Umballa. This creature has two calls. One is the eternal
"brain-fever, _brain-fever_, BRAIN-FEVER," each "brain-fever" being
louder and pitched in a higher key than the previous one, until the
bird reaches its top note. The other call consists of a volley of
descending notes, uttered as if the bird were unwinding its voice
after the screams of "brain-fever." The next cuckoo is not one whit
less vociferous than the last. It is known as the Indian koel
(_Eudynamis honorata_). This noble fowl has three calls, and it would
puzzle anyone to say which is the most powerful. The usual cry is a
crescendo _ku-il_, _ku-il_, _ku-il_, which to Indian ears is very
sweet-sounding. Most Europeans are agreed that it is a sound of which
one can have too much. The second note is a mighty avalanche of yells
and screams, which Cunningham has syllabised as _Kuk_, _kuu_, _kuu_,
_kuu_, _kuu_, _kuu_. The third cry, which is uttered only
occasionally, is a number of shrill shrieks: _Hekaree_, _karee_,
_karee_, _karee_.
The voice of the koel is heard throughout the hours of light and
darkness in May, so that one wonders whether this bird ever sleeps.
The second call is usually reserved for dawn, when the bird is most
vociferous. This cry is particularly exasperating to Europeans, since
it often awakens them rudely from the only refreshing sleep they have
enjoyed, namely, that obtained at the time when the temperature is
comparatively low. The koel extends into the Punjab and is heard
throughout Northern India.
The third of the cuckoos which enlivens the hot weather in the plains
is the Indian cuckoo (_Cuculus micropterus_). This species dwells
chiefly in the Himalayas, but late in April or early in May certain
individuals seek the hot plains and remain there for some months. They
do not extend very far into the peninsula, being numerous only in the
sub-Himalayan tracts as far south as Fyzabad. The call of this cuckoo
is melodious and easily recognised. Indians represent it as
_Bouto-taku_, while some Englishmen maintain that the bird says "I've
lost my love." To the writer's mind the cry is best represented by the
words _wherefore_, _wherefore_, repeated with musical cadence. This
bird does not usually call much during the day. It uplifts its voice
about two hours before sunset and continues calling intermittently
until some time after sunrise. The note is often uttered while the
bird is on the wing.
Scarcely less vociferous than the cuckoos are the owls. Needless to
state that the tiny spotted owlets make a great noise in May. They are
loquacious throughout the year, especially on moonlight nights. Nor do
they wait for the setting of the sun until they commence to pour forth
what Eha terms a "torrent of squeak and chatter and gibberish."
Almost as abundant as the spotted owlet is the jungle owlet
(_Glaucidium radiatum_). This species, like the last-mentioned, does
not confine its vocal efforts to the hot weather. It is vociferous
throughout the year; however, special mention must be made of it in
connection with the month of May, because it is not until a human
being sleeps out of doors that he takes much notice of the bird.