are likely to have eggs or young: white-eyes, ioras, tailor-birds,
king-crows, robins, sparrows, tree-pies, seven sisters,
cuckoo-shrikes, Indian wren-warblers (second brood), sunbirds (second
brood), swifts, fantail flycatchers (second brood), orioles, paradise
flycatchers, grey horn-bills, and the various mynas, bulbuls,
butcher-birds, doves, pigeons and lapwings. The following species have
young which either are in the nest or have only recently left it:
roller, hoopoe, brown rock-chat, magpie-robin, coppersmith, green
barbet, nightjar, white-eyed buzzard, pipit, wire-tailed swallow,
white-breasted kingfisher, grey partridge, kite, golden-backed
woodpecker (second brood), and the several species of bee-eater and
lark.
With June the breeding season for the blue rock and green pigeons
ends. In the _sal_ forests the young jungle-fowl have now mostly
hatched out and are following the old hens, or feeding independently.
Some of the minivets are beginning to busy themselves with a second
brood.
The breeding operations of a few species begin in June.
Chief of these is that arch-villain _Corvus splendens_--the Indian
house-crow. Crows have no fine feathers, hence the cocks do not
"display" before the hens. To sing they know not how. Their courtship,
therefore, provides a feast for neither the eye nor the ear of man.
The lack of ornaments and voice perhaps explains the fact that among
crows there is no noisy love-making. Crows make a virtue of necessity.
Any attempt at courtship after the style of the costermonger is
resented by the whole corvine community. The only amorous display
permitted in public is head-tickling. The cock and the hen perch side
by side, one ruffles the feathers of the neck, the other inserts its
bill between the ruffled feathers of its companion and gently tickles
its neck, to the accompaniment of soft gurgles.
Crows are the most intelligent of birds. Like the other fowls of the
air in which the brain is well developed, they build rough untidy
nests--mere platforms placed in the fork of a branch of almost any
kind of tree. The usual materials used in nest-construction are twigs,
but crows do not limit themselves to these. They seem to take a
positive pride in pressing into service materials of an uncommon
nature. Cases are on record of nests composed entirely of
spectacle-frames, wires used for the fixing of the corks of soda-water
bottles, or pieces of tin discarded by tinsmiths.
Four, five or six eggs are laid; these are of a pale greenish-blue
hue, speckled or flaked with sepia markings. The hen alone collects
the materials for the nest, but the cock supervises her closely,
following her about and criticising her proceedings as she picks up
twigs and works them into the nest.
From the time of the laying of the first egg until the moment of the
departure of the last young bird, one or other of the parents always
mounts guard over the nest, except when they are chasing a koel. Crows
are confirmed egg-lifters and chicken-stealers; they apply their
standard of morality to other birds, and, in consequence, never leave
their own offspring unguarded. A crow's nest at which there is no
adult crow certainly contains neither eggs nor young birds.
As has already been stated, crows spend, much time in teasing and
annoying other birds. Retribution overtakes them in the nesting
season. The Indian koel (_Eudynamis honorata_) cuckolds them. The
crows either are aware of this or have an instinctive dislike to this
cuckoo. The sight of the koel affects a crow in much the same way as a
red cloth irritates a bull. One of these cuckoos has but to perch in a
tree that contains a crow's nest and begin calling in order to make
both the owners of the nest attack him. The koel takes full advantage
of this fact. The cock approaches the nest and begins uttering his
fluty _kuil_, _kuil_. The crows forthwith dash savagely at him. He
flies off pursued by them. He can easily outdistance his pursuers, but
is content to keep a lead of a few feet, crying _pip-pip_ or
_kuil-kuil_, and thus he lures the parent crows to some distance. No
sooner are their backs turned than the hen koel slips quietly into the
nest and deposits an egg in it. If she have time she carries off or
throws out one or more of the legitimate eggs. When the crows return
to the nest, having failed to catch the cock koel, they do not appear
to notice the trick played upon them, although the koel's egg is
smaller than theirs and of an olive-green colour. Through the greater
part of June and July the koels keep the crows busy chasing them.
Something approaching pandemonium reigns in the neighbourhood of a
colony of nesting crows: from dawn till nightfall the shrieks and
yells of the koels mingle with the harsh notes of the crows.
Sometimes the crows return from the chase of the cock koel before the
hen is ready, and surprise her in the nest; then they attack her. She
flees in terror, and is followed by the corvi. Her screams when being
thus pursued are loud enough to awaken the Seven Sleepers. She has
cause for alarm, for, if the raging crows catch her, they will
assuredly kill her. Such a tragedy does sometimes occur.
Not infrequently it happens that more than one koel's egg is laid in a
crow's nest.
The incubation period of the egg of the koel is shorter than that of
the crow, the consequence is that when, as usually happens, there is
one of the former and several of the latter in a nest, the young koel
is invariably the first to emerge. It does not attempt to eject from
the nest either the legitimate eggs or the young crows when they
appear on the scene. Indeed, it lives on excellent terms with its
foster brethren. But to say this is to anticipate, for as a rule,
neither young koels nor baby crows hatch out until July.
The crow-pheasants (_Centropus sinensis_), which are cuckoos that do
not lead a parasitic existence, are now busy with nursery duties. The
nest of the crow-pheasant or coucal is a massive structure, globular
in shape, with the entrance at one side. Large as the nest is, it is
not often discovered by the naturalist because it is almost invariably
situated in the midst of an impenetrable thicket. Three or four
pure-white eggs are laid.
The white-necked storks or beef-steak birds (_Dissura episcopus_) are
busy at their nests in June. These birds build in large trees, usually
at a distance from water. The nest is rudely constructed of twigs. It
is about one and a half feet in diameter. The eggs are placed in a
depression lined with straw, grass or feathers. White-necked storks
often begin nest-building about the middle of May, but eggs are rarely
laid earlier than the second week of June. House-crows nest at the
same time of year, and they often worry the storks considerably by
their impudent attempts to commit larceny of building material.
The breeding season of the paddy-birds has now fairly begun. These
birds, usually so solitary in habit, often nest in small colonies,
sometimes in company with night-herons. The nest is a slender platform
of sticks placed high up in a tree, often in the vicinity of human
habitations. Nesting paddy-birds, or pond-herons as they are
frequently called, utter all manner of weird calls, the one most
frequently heard being a curious gurgle.
Some of the amadavats build nests in June, but the great majority
breed during the winter months.
As soon as the first rains have fallen a few of the pheasant-tailed
jacanas begin nesting operations, but the greater number breed in
August; for this reason their nests are described in the calendar for
that month.
In June a very striking bird makes its appearance in Northern India.
This is the pied crested cuckoo (_Coccystes jacobinus_). Its under
parts are white, as is a bar in the wing. The remainder of the plumage
is glossy black. The head is adorned by an elegant crest. The pied
cuckoo has a peculiar metallic call, which is as easy to recognise as
it is difficult to describe. The bird victimises, not crows, but
babblers; nevertheless the corvi seem to dislike it as intensely as
they dislike koels.
By the beginning of the month the great majority of the cock _bayas_
or weaver-birds have assumed their black-and-golden wedding garment;
nevertheless they do not as a rule begin to nest before July.
The curious excrescence on the bill of the drake _nukta_ or comb-duck
is now much enlarged. This betokens the approach of the nesting season
for that species.
If the monsoon happen to burst early many of the birds which breed in
the rains begin building their nests towards the end of June, but, in
nine years out of ten, July marks the beginning of the breeding period
of aquatic birds, therefore the account of their nests properly finds
place in the calendar of that month, or of August, when the season is
at its height.
JULY
Alas! creative nature calls to light
Myriads of winged forms in sportive flight,
When gathered clouds with ceaseless fury pour
A constant deluge in the rushing shower.
_Calcutta: A Poem_.
In July India becomes a theatre in which Nature stages a mighty
transformation scene. The prospect changes with kaleidoscopic
rapidity. The green water-logged earth is for a time overhung by dull
leaden clouds; this sombre picture melts away into one, even more
dismal, in which the rain pours down in torrents, enveloping
everything in mist and moisture. Suddenly the sun blazes forth with
indescribable brilliance and shines through an atmosphere, clear as
crystal, from which every particle of dust has been washed away.
Fleecy clouds sail majestically across the vaulted firmament. Then
follows a gorgeous sunset in which changing colours run riot through
sky and clouds--pearly grey, jet black, dark dun, pale lavender, deep
mauve, rich carmine, and brightest gold. These colours fade away into
the darkness of the night; the stars then peep forth and twinkle
brightly. At the approach of "rosy-fingered" dawn their lights go out,
one by one. Then blue tints appear in the firmament which deepen into
azure. The glory of the ultramarine sky does not remain long without
alloy: clouds soon appear. So the scene ever changes, hour by hour and
day by day. Had the human being who passes July in the plains but one
window to the soul and that the eye, the month would be one of pure
joy, a month spent in the contemplation of splendid dawns, brilliant
days, the rich green mantle of the earth, the majesty of approaching
thunderclouds, and superb sunsets. But, alas, July is not a month of
unalloyed pleasure. The temperature is tolerably low while the rain is
actually falling; but the moment this ceases the European is subjected
to the acute physical discomforts engendered by the hot, steamy,
oppressive atmosphere, the ferocity of the sun's rays, and the teasing
of thousands of biting and buzzing insects which the monsoon calls
into being. Termites, crickets, red-bugs, stink-bugs, horseflies,
mosquitoes, beetles and diptera of all shapes and sizes arise in
millions as if spontaneously generated. Many of these are creatures of
the night. Although born in darkness all seem to strive after light.
Myriads of them collect round every burning lamp in the open air, to
the great annoyance of the human being who attempts to read out of
doors after dark. The spotted owlets, the toads and the lizards,
however, take a different view of the invasion and partake eagerly of
the rich feast provided for them. Notwithstanding the existence of
_chiks_, or gauze doors, the hexapods crowd into the lighted bungalow,
where every illumination soon becomes the centre of a collection of
the bodies of the insects that have been burned by the flame, or
scorched by the lamp chimney. Well is it for the rest of creation that
most of these insects are short-lived. The span of life of many is but
a day: were it much longer human beings could hardly manage to exist
during the rains. Equally unbearable would life be were all the
species of monsoon insects to come into being simultaneously.
Fortunately they appear in relays. Every day some new forms enter on
the stage of life and several make their exit. The pageant of insect
life, then, is an ever-changing one. To-day one species predominates,
to-morrow another, and the day after a third. Unpleasant and
irritating though these insect hosts be to human beings, some pleasure
is to be derived from watching them. Especially is this the case when
the termites or white-ants swarm. In the damp parts of Lower Bengal
these creatures may emerge at any time of the year. In Calcutta they
swarm either towards the close of the rainy season or in spring after
an exceptionally heavy thunderstorm. In Madras they emerge from their
hiding-places in October with the northeast monsoon. In the United
Provinces the winged termites appear after the first fall of the
monsoon rain in June or July as the case may be. These succulent
creatures provide a feast for the birds which is only equalled by that
furnished by a flight of locusts. In the case of the termites it is
not only the birds that partake. The ever-vigilant crows are of course
the first to notice a swarm of termites, and they lose no time in
setting to work. The kites are not far behind them. These great birds
sail on the outskirts of the flight, seizing individuals with their
claws and transferring them to the beak while on the wing. A few
king-crows and bee-eaters join them. On the ground below
magpie-robins, babblers, toads, lizards, musk-rats and other
terrestrial creatures make merry. If the swarm comes out at dusk, as
often happens, bats and spotted owlets join those of the gourmands
that are feasting while on the wing.
The earth is now green and sweet. The sugar-cane grows apace. The
rice, the various millets and the other autumn crops are being sown.
The cultivators take full advantage of every break in the rains to
conduct agricultural operations.
As we have seen, the nocturnal chorus of the birds is now replaced by
the croaking of frogs and the stridulation of crickets. In the
day-time the birds still have plenty to say for themselves. The
brain-fever birds scream as lustily as they did in May and June. The
koel is, if possible, more vociferous than ever, especially at the
beginning of the month. The Indian cuckoo does not call so frequently
as formerly, but, by way of compensation, the pied crested cuckoo
uplifts his voice at short intervals.
The _whoot_, _whoot_, _whoot_ of the crow-pheasant booms from almost
every thicket. The iora, the coppersmith, the barbet, the
golden-backed woodpecker, and the white-breasted kingfisher continue
to call merrily. The pied starlings are in full voice; their notes
form a very pleasing addition to the avian chorus. Those magpie-robins
that have not brought nesting operations to a close are singing
vigorously. The king-crows are feeding their young ones in the
greenwood tree, and crooning softly to them _pitchu-wee_. At the
_jhils_ the various waterfowl are nesting and each one proclaims the
fact by its allotted call. Much strange music emanates from the
well-filled tank; the indescribable cries of the purple coots, the
curious "fixed bayonets" of the cotton teal and the weird cat-like
mews of the jacanas form the dominant notes of the aquatic symphony.
In July the black-breasted or rain-quail (_Coturnix coromandelica_) is
plentiful in India. Much remains to be discovered regarding the
movements of this species. It appears to migrate to Bengal, the United
Provinces, the Punjab and Sind shortly before the monsoon bursts, but
it is said to arrive in Nepal as early as April. It would seem to
winter in South India. It is a smaller bird than the ordinary grey
quail and has no pale cross-bars on the primary wing feathers. The
males of this species are held in high esteem by Indians as fighting
birds. Large numbers of them are netted in the same way as the grey
quail. Some captive birds are set down in a covered cage by a
sugar-cane field in the evening. Their calls attract a number of wild
birds, which settle down in the sugar-cane in order to spend the day
there. At dawn a net is quietly stretched across one end of the field.
A rope is then slowly dragged along over the growing crop in the
direction of the net. This sends all the quail into the net.
Very fair sport may be obtained in July by shooting rain-quail that
have been attracted by call birds.
July marks the end of one breeding season and the beginning of
another. As regards the nesting season, birds fall into four classes.
There is the very large class that nests in spring and summer. Next in
importance is the not inconsiderable body that rears up its broods in
the rains when the food supply is most abundant. Then comes the small
company that builds nests in the pleasant winter time. Lastly there
are the perennials--such birds as the sparrow and the dove, which nest
at all seasons. In the present month the last of the summer nesting
birds close operations for the year, and the monsoon birds begin to
lay their eggs. July is therefore a favourable month for bird-nesting.
Moreover, the sun is sometimes obscured by cloud and, under such
conditions, a human being is able to remain out of doors throughout
the day without suffering much physical discomfort.
With July ends the normal breeding season of the tree-pies,
white-eyes, ioras; king-crows, bank-mynas, paradise flycatchers, brown
rock-chats, Indian robins, dhayals, red-winged bush-larks, sunbirds,
rollers, swifts, green pigeons, lapwings and butcher-birds.
The paradise flycatchers leave Northern India and migrate southwards a
few weeks after the young birds have left the nest.
Numbers of bulbuls' nests are likely to be found in July, but the
breeding time of these birds is rapidly drawing to its close. Sparrows
and doves are of course engaged in parental duties; their eggs have
been taken in every month of the year.
The nesting season is now at its height for the white-necked storks,
the koels and their dupes--the house-crows, also for the various
babblers and their deceivers--the brain-fever birds and the pied
crested cuckoos. The tailor-birds, the ashy and the Indian
wren-warblers, the brahminy mynas, the wire-tailed swallows, the
amadavats, the sirkeer cuckoos, the pea-fowl, the water-hens, the
common and the pied mynas, the cuckoo-shrikes and the orioles are all
fully occupied with nursery duties. The earliest of the brain-fever
birds to be hatched have left the nest. Like all its family the young
hawk-cuckoo has a healthy appetite. In order to satisfy it the
unfortunate foster-parents have to work like slaves, and often must
they wonder why nature has given them so voracious a child. When it
sees a babbler approaching with food, the cuckoo cries out and flaps
its wings vigorously. Sometimes these completely envelop the parent
bird while it is thrusting food into the yellow mouth of the cuckoo.
The breast of the newly-fledged brain-fever bird is covered with dark
brown drops, so that, when seen from below, it looks like a thrush
with yellow legs. Its cries, however, are not at all thrushlike.
Many of the wire-tailed swallows, minivets and white-browed fantail
flycatchers bring up a second brood during the rains. The loud
cheerful call of the last is heard very frequently in July.
Numbers of young bee-eaters are to be seen hawking at insects; they
are distinguishable from adults by the dullness of the plumage and the
fact that the median tail feathers are not prolonged as bristles.
Very few crows emerge from the egg before the 1st of July, but, during
the last week in June, numbers of baby koels are hatched out. The
period of incubation for the koel's egg is shorter than that of the
crow, hence at the outset the baby koel steals a march on his
foster-brothers. Koel nestlings, when they first emerge from the egg,
differ greatly in appearance from baby crows. The skin of the koel is
black, that of crow is pink for the first two days of its existence,
but it grows darker rapidly. The baby crow is the bigger bird and has
a larger mouth with fleshy sides. The sides of the mouth of the young
koel are not fleshy. The neck of the crow nestling is long and the
head hangs down, whereas the koel's neck is short and the bird carries
its head huddled in its shoulders. Crows nest high up in trees, these
facts are therefore best observed by sending up an expert climber with
a tin half-full of sawdust to which a long string is attached. The
climber lets down the eggs or nestlings in the tin and the observer
can examine them in comfort on _terra firma_. The parent crows do not
appear to notice how unlike the young koels are to their own
nestlings, for they feed them most assiduously and make a great uproar
when the koels are taken from the nest. Baby crows are noisy
creatures; koels are quiet and timid at first, but become noisier as
they grow older.
The feathers of crow nestlings are black in each sex. Young koels fall
into three classes: those of which the feathers are all black, those
of which a few feathers have white or reddish tips, those which are
speckled black and white all over because each feather has a white
tip. The two former appear to be young cocks and the last to be hens.
Baby koels, in addition to hatching out before their foster-brethren,
develop more quickly, so that they leave the nest fully a week in
advance of the young corvi. After vacating the nest they squat for
some days on a branch close by; numbers of them are to be seen thus in
suitable localities towards the end of July. At first the call of the
koel is a squeak, but later it takes the form of a creditable, if
ludicrous, attempt at a caw. The young cuckoo does not seem to be able
to distinguish its foster-parents from other crows; it clamours for
food whenever any crow comes near it.
Of the scenes characteristic of the rains in India none is more
pleasing than that presented by a colony of nest-building bayas or
weaver-birds (_Ploceus baya_). These birds build in company. Sometimes
more than twenty of their wonderful retort-like nests are to be seen
in one tree. This means that more than forty birds are at work, and,
as each of these indulges in much cheerful twittering, the tree in
question presents an animated scene. Both sexes take part in
nest-construction.