common about Darjeeling.
40. _Campophaga melanoschista_. The dark-grey cuckoo-shrike.
Plumage is dark grey, wings black, tail black tipped with white.
Rather larger than a bulbul. Cuckoo-shrikes keep to trees, and rarely,
if ever, descend to the ground.
THE MUSCICAPIDAE OR FLYCATCHER FAMILY
Of the common flycatchers of the Western Himalayas, the following
occur in the Eastern Himalayas:
41. _Stoparola melanops_. The verditer flycatcher. Very common at
Darjeeling.
42. _Cyornis superciliaris_. The white-browed blue-flycatcher.
43. _Alseonax latirostris_. The brown flycatcher. Not very common.
44. _Niltava sundara_. The rufous-bellied niltava. Very abundant at
Darjeeling. In addition to the rufous-bellied niltava, two other
niltavas occur in the Eastern Himalayas.
45. _Niltava grandis_. The large niltava. This may be readily
distinguished on account of its comparatively large size. It is as
large as a bulbul. It is very common about Darjeeling.
46. _Niltava macgrigoriae_. The small niltava. This is considerably
smaller than a sparrow and does not occur above 5000 feet.
47. _Terpsiphone affinis_. The Burmese paradise flycatcher. This
replaces the Indian species in the Eastern Himalayas, but it is not
found so high up as Darjeeling, being confined to the lower ranges.
The other flycatchers commonly seen in the Eastern Himalayas are:
48. _Rhipidura allicollis_. The white-throated fantail flycatcher.
This beautiful bird is abundant in the vicinity of Darjeeling. It
is a black bird, with a white eyebrow, a whitish throat, and white
tips to the outer tail feathers. It is easily recognised by its
cheerful song and the way in which it pirouettes among the foliage
and spreads its tail into a fan.
49. _Hemichelidon sibirica_. The sooty flycatcher. This is a tiny
bird of dull brown hue which, as Jerdon says, has very much the aspect
of a swallow.
50. _Hemichelidon ferruginea_. The ferruginous flycatcher. A
rusty-brown bird (the rusty hue being most pronounced in the rump
and tail) with a white throat.
51. _Cyornis rubeculoides_. The blue-throated flycatcher. The cock
is a blue bird with a red breast. There is some black on the cheeks
and in the wings.
The hen is a brown bird tinged with red on the breast. This species,
which is smaller than a sparrow, keeps mainly to the lower branches
of trees.
52. _Anthipes moniliger_. Hodgson's white-gorgeted flycatcher. A
small reddish-brown bird with a white chin and throat surrounded by
a black band, that sits on a low branch and makes occasional sallies
into the air after insects, can be none other than this flycatcher.
53. _Siphia strophiata_. The orange-gorgeted flycatcher. A small
brown bird with an oval patch of bright chestnut on the throat, and
some white at the base of the tail. (This white is very conspicuous
when the bird is flying.) This flycatcher, which is very common about
Darjeeling, often alights on the ground.
54. _Cyornis melanoleucus_. The little pied flycatcher. A very small
bird. The upper plumage of the cock is black with a white eyebrow
and some white in the wings and tail. The lower parts are white. The
hen is an olive-brown bird with a distinct red tinge on the lower
back. This flycatcher is not very common.
THE TURDIDAE OR THRUSH FAMILY
55. _Oreicola ferrea_. The dark-grey bush-chat. Not so abundant in
the Eastern as in the Western Himalayas.
56. _Henicurus maculatus_. The Western spotted forktail.
57. _Microcichla scouleri_. The little forktail. This is
distinguishable from the foregoing by its very short tail. It does
not occur commonly at elevations over 5000 feet.
58. _Rhyacornis fuliginosus_. The plumbeous redstart or water-robin.
Not common above 5000 feet in the Eastern Himalayas.
59. _Merula boulboul_. The grey-winged ouzel.
60. _Petrophila cinclorhyncha_. The blue-headed rock-thrush.
61. _Oreocincla molissima_. The plain-backed mountain-thrush. This
is the thrush most likely to be seen in the Eastern Himalayas. It
is like the European thrush, except that the back is olive brown
without any dark markings.
THE FRINGILLIDAE OR FINCH FAMILY
62. _Haematospiza sipahi_. The scarlet finch. The cock is a scarlet
bird, nearly as large as a bulbul, with black on the thighs and in
the wings and tail.
The hen is dusky brown with a bright yellow rump. This species has
a massive beak.
63. _Passer montanus_. The tree-sparrow. This is the only sparrow
found at Darjeeling. It has the habits of the house-sparrow. The sexes
are alike in appearance. The head is chestnut and the cheeks are white.
There is a black patch under the eye, and the chin and throat are
black. The remainder of the plumage is very like that of the
house-sparrow.
THE HIRUNDINIDAE OR SWALLOW FAMILY
64. _Hirundo rustica_. The common swallow.
65. _Hirundo nepalensis_. Hodgson's striated swallow.
THE MOTACILLIDAE OR WAGTAIL FAMILY
66. _Oreocorys sylvanus_. The upland pipit. This is not very common
east of Nepal.
THE NECTARINIDAE OR SUNBIRD FAMILY
67. _AEthopyga nepalensis_. The Nepal yellow-backed sunbird. This
replaces _AEthopyga scheriae_ in the Eastern Himalayas, and is
distinguished by having the chin and upper throat metallic green
instead of crimson. It is the common sunbird about Darjeeling.
THE DICAEIDAE OR FLOWER-PECKER FAMILY
68. _Dicaeum ignipectus_. The fire-breasted flower-pecker.
THE PICIDAE OR WOODPECKER FAMILY
69. Of the woodpeckers mentioned as common in the Western Himalayas,
the only one likely to be seen at Darjeeling is _Hypopicus
hypererythrus_--the rufous-bellied pied woodpecker, and this is by
no means common. The woodpeckers most often seen in the Eastern
Himalayas are:
70. _Dendrocopus cathpharius_. The lesser pied woodpecker. A
speckled black-and-white woodpecker about the size of a bulbul. The
top of the head and the sides of the neck are red in both sexes; the
nape also is red in the cock.
71. _Gecinus occipitalis_. The black-naped green woodpecker. This
bird, as its name implies, is green with a black nape. The head is
red in the cock and black in the hen. This species is about the size
of a crow.
72. _Gecinus chlorolophus_. The small Himalayan yellow-naped
woodpecker. This species is distinguishable from the last by its small
size, a crimson band on each side of the head, and the nape being
golden yellow.
73. _Pyrrhopicus pyrrhotis_. The red-eared bay woodpecker. The head
is brown. The rest of the upper plumage is cinnamon or chestnut-red
with blackish cross-bars. There is a crimson patch behind each ear,
which forms a semi-collar in the male. This species seeks its food
largely on the ground.
In addition to the above, two tiny little woodpeckers much smaller
than sparrows are common in the Eastern Himalayas. They feed on the
ground largely. They are:
74. _Picumnus innominatus_. The speckled piculet.
75. _Sasia ochracea_. The rufous piculet. The former has an
olive-green forehead. In the latter the cock has a golden-yellow
forehead and the hen a reddish-brown forehead.
THE CAPITONIDAE OR BARBET FAMILY
76. _Megalaema marshallorum_. The great Himalayan barbet.
77. _Cyanops franklini_. The golden-throated barbet. About the size
of a bulbul. General hue grass green tinged with blue. The chin and
throat are golden yellow. The forehead and a patch on the crown are
crimson. The rest of the crown is golden yellow. The call has been
syllabised as _kattak-kattak-kattak_.
THE ALCEDINIDAE OR KINGFISHER FAMILY
78. _Ceryle lugubris_. The Himalayan pied kingfisher.
THE BUCEROTIDAE OR HORNBILL FAMILY
Hornbills are to be numbered among the curiosities of nature. They
are characterised by the disproportionately large beak. In some
species this is nearly a foot in length. The beak has on the upper
mandible an excrescence which in some species is nearly as large as
the bill itself. The nesting habits are not less curious than the
structure of hornbills. The eggs are laid in a cavity of a tree. The
hen alone sits. When she has entered the hole she and the cock plaster
up the orifice until it is only just large enough to allow the
insertion of the hornbill's beak. The cock feeds the sitting hen
during the whole period of her voluntary incarceration.
Several species of hornbills dwell in the forests at the foot of the
Himalayas, but only one species is likely to be found at elevations
above 5000 feet. This is the rufous-necked hornbill.
79. _Aceros nepalensis_. The rufous-necked hornbill. In this species
the casque or excrescence on the upper mandible is very slight. It
is a large bird 4 feet long, with a tail of 18 inches and a beak of
8-1/2 inches. The hen is wholly black, save for a little white in
the wings and tail. In the cock the head, neck, and lower parts are
bright reddish brown. The rest of his plumage is black and white.
In both sexes the bill is yellow with chestnut grooves. The naked
skin round the eye is blue, and that of the throat is scarlet. The
call of this species is a deep hoarse croak.
THE CYPSELIDAE OR SWIFT FAMILY
80. _Cypselus affinis_. The common Indian swift.
81. _Chaetura nudipes_. The white-necked spine-tail. A black bird
glossed with green, having the chin, throat, and front and sides of
the neck white.
THE CUCULIDAE OR CUCKOO FAMILY
82. _Cuculus canorus_. The common or European cuckoo.
83. _Cuculus saturatus_. The Himalayan cuckoo.
84. _Cuculus poliocephalus_. The small cuckoo. This is very like the
common cuckoo in appearance, but it is considerably smaller. Its loud
unmusical call has been syllabised _pichu-giapo_.
85. _Cuculus micropterus_. The Indian cuckoo.
86. _Hierococcyx varius_. The common hawk-cuckoo.
87. _Hierococcyx sparverioides_. The large hawk-cuckoo.
THE PSITTACIDAE OR PARROT FAMILY
88. _Palaeornis schisticeps_. The slaty-headed paroquet. This bird
is not nearly so common in the Eastern as in the Western Himalayas.
THE STRIGIDAE OR OWL FAMILY
89. _Glaucidium brodei_. The collared pigmy owlet.
90. _Syrnium indrani_. The brown wood-owl.
91. _Scops spilocephalus_. The spotted Himalayan scops owl.
THE VULTURIDAE OR VULTURE FAMILY
92. _Gyps himalayensis_. The Himalayan griffon.
93. _Pseudogyps bengalensis_. The white-backed vulture.
THE FALCONIDAE OR FAMILY OF BIRDS OF PREY
94. _Aquila helica_. The imperial eagle.
95. _Hieraetus fasciatus_. Bonelli's eagle.
96. _Ictinaetus malayensis_. The black eagle. This is easily
recognised by its dark, almost black, plumage.
97. _Spilornis cheela_. The crested serpent eagle.
98. _Milvus govinda_. The common pariah kite.
99. _Tinnunculus alaudaris_. The kestrel.
THE COLUMBIDAE OR DOVE FAMILY
100. _Sphenocercus sphenurus_. The kokla green-pigeon.
101. _Turtur suratensis_. The spotted dove.
102. _Macropygia tusalia_. The bar-tailed cuckoo-dove.
THE PHASIANIDAE OR PHEASANT FAMILY
103. _Gennaeus leucomelanus_. The Nepal kalij pheasant. This is the
only pheasant at all common about Darjeeling. It is distinguished
from the white-crested kalij pheasant by the cock having a glossy
blue-black crest. The hens of the two species resemble one another
closely in appearance.
104. _Coturnix communis_. The grey quail.
105. _Arboricola torqueola_. The common hill partridge.
106. _Francolinus vulgaris_. The black partridge. Fairly common at
elevations below 4000 feet.
THE CHARADRIIDAE OR PLOVER FAMILY
107. _Scolopax rusticola_. The woodcock.
In the summer this bird is not likely to be seen below altitudes of
8000 feet above the sea-level.
_TITS AT WORK_
The average Himalayan house is such a ramshackle affair that it is
a miracle how it holds together. The roof does not fit properly on
to the walls, and in these latter there are cracks and chinks galore.
Perhaps it is due to these defects that hill houses do not fall down
more often than they do.
Thanks to their numerous cracks they do not offer half the resistance
to a gale of wind that a well-built house would.
Be this as it may, the style of architecture that finds favour in
the hills is quite a godsend to the birds, or rather to such of the
feathered folk as nestle in holes. A house in the Himalayas is, from
an avian point of view, a maze of nesting sites, a hotel in which
unfurnished rooms are always available.
The sparrow usually monopolises these nesting sites. He is a regular
dog-in-the-manger, for he keeps other birds out of the holes he
himself cannot utilise. However, the sparrow is not quite ubiquitous.
In most large hill stations there are more houses than he is able
to monopolise.
I recently spent a couple of days in one of such, in a house situated
some distance from the bazaar, a house surrounded by trees.
Two green-backed tits (_Parus monticola_) were busy preparing a
nursery for their prospective offspring in one of the many holes
presented by the building in question. This had once been a
respectable bungalow, surrounded by a broad verandah. But the day
came when it fell into the hands of a boarding-house keeper, and it
shared the fate of all buildings to which this happens. The verandahs
were enclosed and divided up by partitions, to form, in the words
of the advertisement, "fine, large, airy rooms." There can be no doubt
as to their airiness, but captious persons might dispute their title
to the other epithets. A _kachcha_ verandah had been thrown out with
a galvanised iron roof and wooden supporting pillars. The
subsequently-added roof did not fit properly on to that of the
original verandah, and there was a considerable chink between the
beam that supported it and the wall that enclosed the old verandah,
so that the house afforded endless nesting sites. An inch-wide crack
is quite large enough to admit of the passage of a tit; when this
was negotiated the space between the old and the new roof afforded
endless possibilities. Small wonder, then, that a pair of tits had
elected to nest there.
The green-backed tit is one of the most abundant birds in the Himalayas.
It is about the size of a sparrow. The head is black with a small
perky crest. The cheeks are spotless white. The back of the head is
connected by a narrow black collar with an expansive shirtfront of
this hue. The remainder of the plumage is bright yellow. The back
is greenish yellow, the rest of the plumage is slaty with some dashes
of black and white. Thus the green-backed tit is a smart little bird.
It is as vivacious as it is smart. It constantly utters a sharp, not
unpleasant, metallic dissyllabic call, which sounds like _kiss me_,
_kiss me_, _kiss me_, _kiss me_. This is one of the most familiar
of the tunes that enliven our northern hill stations.
So much for the bird: now for its nest. A nest in a hole possesses
many advantages. Its preparation does not entail very much labour.
It has not to be built; it merely needs furnishing, and this does
not occupy long if the occupiers have Spartan tastes. The tits in
question were luxuriously inclined, if we may judge by the amount
of moss that they carried into that hole. By the time it was finished
it must have been considerably softer than the bed that was provided
for my accommodation!
Moss in plenty was to be had for the taking; the trunks and larger
branches of the trees which surrounded the "hotel" were covered with
soft green moss. The tits experienced no difficulty in ripping this
off with the beak.
The entrance to the nest hole faced downwards and was guarded on one
side by the wall of the house, and on the other by a beam, so that
it was not altogether easy of access even to a bird. Consequently
a good deal of the moss gathered by the tits did not reach its
destination; they let it fall while they were negotiating the
entrance.
When a piece of moss dropped from the bird's beak, no attempt was
made to retrieve it, although it only fell some 10 feet on to the
floor of the verandah. In this respect all birds behave alike. They
never attempt to reclaim that which they have let fall. A bird will
spend the greater part of half an hour in wrenching a twig from a
tree: yet, if this is dropped while being carried to the nest, the
bird seems to lose all further interest in it.
By the end of the first day's work at the nest, the pair of tits had
left quite a respectable collection of moss on the floor. This was
swept away next morning. On the second day much less was dropped;
practice had taught the tits how best to enter the nest hole.
It will be noticed that I speak of "tits." I believe I am correct
in so doing; I think that both cock and hen work at the nest. I cannot
say for certain, for I am not able to distinguish a lady- from a
gentleman-tit. I never saw them together at the nest, but I noticed
that the bird bringing material to it sometimes flew direct from a
tree and at others alighted on the projecting end of a roof beam which
the carpenters had been too lazy to saw off. It is my belief that
the bird that used to alight on the beam was not the same as the one
that flew direct from the tree. Birds are creatures of habit. If you
observe a mother bird feeding her young, you will notice that she,
when not disturbed, almost invariably approaches the nest in a certain
fixed manner. She will perch, time after time, on one particular
branch near the nest, and thence fly to her open-mouthed brood. When
both parents bring food to the nest, each approaches in a way peculiar
to itself; the hen will perhaps always come in from the left and the
cock from the right.
The tits in question worked spasmodically at the nest throughout the
hours of daylight. For ten minutes or so they would bring in piece
after piece of moss at a great pace and then indulge in a little
relaxation. All work and no play makes a tit a dull bird.
I had to leave the hotel late on the second day, so was not able to
follow up the fortunes of the two little birds. I have, however, to
thank them for affording me some amusement and giving me pleasant
recollections of the place. It was good to lounge in a long chair,
drink in the cool air, and watch the little birds at work. I shall
soon forget the tumble-down appearance of the house, its seedy
furniture, its coarse durries, and its hard beds, but shall long
remember the great snow-capped peaks in the distance, the green
moss-clad trees near about, the birds that sang in these, the sunbeams
that played among the leaves, and, above all, the two little tits
that worked so industriously at their nest.
_THE PEKIN-ROBIN_
This is not a robin, nor does it seem to be nearly related to the
familiar redbreast; Pekin- or China-robin is merely the name the
dealers give it, because a great many specimens are imported from
China. Its classical name is _Liothrix lutea_. Oates calls it the
red-billed liothrix. It is a bird about the size of a sparrow. The
prevailing hue of the upper plumage is olive green, but the forehead
is yellow. There is also a yellow ring round the eye, and the lower
parts are of varying shades of this colour. Some of the wing feathers
are edged with yellow and some with crimson, so that the wings, when
closed, look as though lines of these colours are pencilled upon them.
Oates, I notice, states that the hen has no red in the wing, but this
does not seem to be the case in all examples. In the Pekin-robins
that hail from China the chief difference between the sexes is that
the plumage of the hen is a little duller than that of the cock. The
bill is bright red. It is thus evident that the _liothrix_ is a
handsome bird, its beauty being of the quiet type which bears close
inspection. But the very great charm of this sprightly little creature
lies, not so much in its colouring, as in its form and movements.
Its perfect proportions give it a very athletic air. In this respect
it resembles the nimble wagtails. Next to these I like the appearance
of the Pekin-robin better than that of any other little bird. Finn
bestows even greater praise upon it, for he says: "Altogether it is
the most generally attractive small bird I know of--everyone seems
to admire it."
There is no bird more full of life. When kept in a cage, Pekin-robins
hop from perch to perch with extraordinary agility, seeming scarcely
to have touched one perch with their feet before they are off to
another. I am inclined to think that the _liothrix_, like Camilla,
Queen of the Volscians, could trip across a field of corn without
causing the blades to move. This truly admirable bird is a songster
of no mean capacity. Small wonder, then, that it has long been a
favourite with fanciers. Moreover, it stands captivity remarkably
well. It is the only insectivorous bird which is largely exported
from India. So hardy is it that Finn attempted to introduce it into
England, and with this object set free a number of specimens in St.
James's Park some years ago, but they did not succeed in establishing
themselves, although some individuals survived for several months.
The English climate is to Asiatic birds much what that of the West
Coast of Africa is to white men. J. K. Jerome once suggested that
Life Insurance Companies should abolish the application form with
its long list of queries concerning the ailments of the would-be
insurer, his parents, grandparents, and other relatives, and
substitute for it the German cigar test. If, said he, the applicant
can come up smiling immediately after having smoked a German cigar,
the Company could be certain that he was "a good life," to use the
technical term. As regards birds, the survival of an English winter
is an equally efficient test. The Pekin-robin is a very intelligent
little bird. Finn found that it was not deceived by the resemblance
between an edible and an unpalatable Indian swallow-tailed butterfly,
although the sharp king-crow was deceived by the likeness.
Those Anglo-Indians who wish to make the acquaintance of the bird
must either resort to some fancier's shop, or hie themselves to the
cool heights of Mussoorie, or, better still, of Darjeeling, where
the _liothrix_ is exceptionally abundant. But even at Darjeeling the
Pekin-robin will have to be looked for carefully, for it is of shy
and retiring habits, and a small bird of such a disposition is apt
to elude observation. In one respect the plains (let us give even
the devil his due) are superior to the hills. The naturalist usually
experiences little difficulty in observing birds in the
sparsely-wooded flat country, but in the tree-covered mountains the
feathered folk often require to be stalked. If you would see the
Pekin-robin in a state of nature, go to some clearing in the Himalayan
forest, where the cool breezes blow upon you direct from the snows,
whence you can see the most beautiful sight in the world, that of
snow-capped mountains standing forth against an azure sky. Tear your
eyes away from the white peaks and direct them to the low bushes and
trees which are springing up in the clearing, for in this you are
likely to meet with a small flock of Pekin-robins. You will probably
hear them before you see them. The sound to listen for is well
described by Finn as "a peculiar five-noted call,
_tee-tee-tee-tee-tee_." As has been stated already, most, if not all,
birds that go about in flocks in wooded country continually utter
a call note, as it is by this means that the members of the flock
keep together. Jerdon states that the food of the _liothrix_ consists
of "berries, fruit, seeds, and insects." He should, I think, have
reversed the order of the bird's menu, for it comes of an insectivorous
family--the babblers--and undoubtedly is very partial to insects--so
much so that Finn suggests its introduction into St. Helena to keep
them down. At the nesting season, in the early spring, the flock breaks
up into pairs, which take upon themselves what Mr. E. D. Cuming calls
"brow-wrinkling family responsibilities," and each pair builds in
a low bush a cup-shaped nest.
_BLACK BULBULS_
All passerine birds which have hairs springing from the back of the
head, and of which the tarsus--the lower half of the leg--is shorter
than the middle toe, plus its claw, are classified by scientific men
as members of the sub-family Brachypodinae, or Bulbuls. This
classification, although doubtless unassailable from the standpoint
of the anatomist, has the effect of bringing together some creatures
which can scarcely be described as "birds of a feather." The typical
bulbul, as exemplified by the common species of the plains--Molpastes
and Otocompsa--is a dear, meek, unsophisticated little bird, the kind
of creature held up in copy-books as an example to youth, a veritable
"Captain Desmond, V.C." Bulbuls of the nobler sort pair for life,
and the harmony of their conjugal existence is rarely marred by
quarrels; they behave after marriage as they did in the days of
courtship: they love to sit on a leafy bough, close up against one
another, and express their mutual admiration and affection by means
of a cheery, if rather feeble, lay. They build a model nest in which
prettily-coloured eggs are deposited. These they make but little
attempt to conceal, for they are birds without guile. But, alas, their
artlessness often results in a rascally lizard or squirrel eating
the eggs for his breakfast. When their eggs are put to this base use,
the bulbuls, to quote "Eha," are "sorry," but their grief is
short-lived. Within a few hours of the tragedy they are twittering
gaily to one another, and in a wonderfully short space of time a new
clutch of eggs replaces the old one. If this shares the fate of the
first set, some more are laid, so that eventually a family of bulbuls
hatches out.
Such is, in brief, the character of the great majority of bulbuls;
they present a fine example of rewarded virtue, for these amiable
little birds are very abundant; they flourish like the green bay tree.
As at least one pair is to be found in every Indian garden, they
exemplify the truth of the saying, the meek "shall inherit the earth,"
and give a new meaning to the expression, "the survival of the
fittest." There are, however, some bulbuls which are so unlike the
birds described above that the latter might reasonably deny
relationship to them as indignantly as some human beings decline to
acknowledge apes and monkeys as poor relations. As we have seen, most
bulbuls are inoffensive, respectable birds, that lead a quiet,
domesticated life. The cock and hen are so wrapped up in one another
as to pay little heed to the outer world. Not so the black bulbuls.
These are the antithesis of everything bulbuline. They are aggressive,
disreputable-looking creatures, who go about in disorderly, rowdy
gangs. The song of most bulbuls consists of many pleasant, blithe
tinkling notes; that of the black bulbul, or at any rate of the
Himalayan black bulbul, is scarcely as musical as the bray of the
ass. Most bulbuls are pretty birds and are most particular about their
personal appearance. Black bulbuls are as untidy as it is possible
for a bird to be. The two types of bulbul stand to one another in
much the same relationship as does the honest Breton peasant to the
inhabitant of the Quartier Latin in Paris.
Black bulbuls belong to the genus _Hypsipetes_. Three species occur
in India--the Himalayan (_H. psaroides_), the Burmese (_H.
concolor_), and the South Indian (_H. ganeesa_). All three species
resemble one another closely in appearance. Take a king-crow
(_Dicrurus ater_), dip his bill and legs in red ink, cut down his
tail a little, dust him all over so as to make his glossy black plumage
look grey and shabby, ruffle his feathers, apply a little _pomade
hongroise_ to the feathers on the back of his head, and make some
of them stick out to look like a dilapidated crest, and you may flatter
yourself that you have produced a very fair imitation of a black bulbul
as it appears when flitting about from one tree summit to another.
Closer inspection of the bird reveals the fact that "black" is
scarcely the right adjective to apply to it. Dark grey is the
prevailing hue of its plumage, with some black on the head and a
quantity of brown on the wings and tail.
The Himalayan species has a black cheek stripe, which the other forms
lack; but it is quite unnecessary to dilate upon these minute
differences. I trust I have said sufficient to enable any man, woman,
or suffragette to recognise a noisy black bulbul, and, as the
distribution of each species is well defined and does not overlap
that of the other species, the fact that a bird is found in any
particular place at once settles the question of its species. The
South Indian bird occurs only in Ceylon and the hills of South-west
India; hence Jerdon called this species the Nilgiri or Ghaut black
bulbul. Men of science in their wisdom have given the Himalayan bird
the sibilant name of _Hypsipetes psaroides_. The inelegance of the
appellation perhaps explains why the bird has been permitted to retain
it for quite a long while unchanged.
I have been charged with unnecessarily making fun of ornithological
nomenclature. As a matter of fact, I have dealt far too leniently
with the peccadillos of the ornithological systematist. Recently a
book was published in the United States entitled _The Birds of
Illinois and Wisconsin_. Needless to state that while the author was
writing the book, ornithological terminology underwent many changes;
but the author was able to keep pace with these and with those that
occurred while the various proofs were passing through the press.
It was after this that his real troubles began. Several changes took
place between the interval of the passing of the final proof and the
appearance of the book, so that the unfortunate author in his desire
to be up to date had to insert in each volume a slip to the effect
that the American Ornithologists' Union had in the course of the past
few days changed the name of no fewer than three genera; consequently
the genus Glaux had again become Cryptoglaux, and the genera Trochilus
and Coturniculus had become, respectively, Archilochus and
Ammodramus! But we are wandering away from our black bulbuls. The
hillmen call the Himalayan species the _Ban Bakra_, which means the
jungle goat. Why it should be so named I have not an idea, unless
it be because the bird habitually "plays the goat!"
Black bulbuls seem never to descend to the ground; they keep almost
entirely to the tops of lofty trees and so occur only in well-wooded
parts of the hills. When the rhododendrons are in flower, these birds
partake very freely of the nectar enclosed within their crimson
calyces. Now, I am fully persuaded that the nectar of flowers is an
intoxicant to birds, and of course this will account, not only in
part for the rowdiness of the black bulbuls, but for the pugnacity
of those creatures, such as sunbirds, which habitually feed upon this
stimulating diet. Black bulbuls, like sunbirds, get well dusted with
pollen while diving into flowers after nectar, and so probably act
the part of insects as regards the cross-fertilisation of large
flowers. In respect of nesting habits, black bulbuls conform more
closely to the ways of their tribe than they do in other matters.
The nesting season is early spring. The nursery, which is built in
a tree, not in a bush, is a small cup composed largely of moss, dried
grass, and leaves, held together by being well smeared with cobweb.
The eggs have a pink background, much spotted with reddish purple.
They display a great lack of uniformity as regards both shape and
colouring.
_A WARBLER OF DISTINCTION_
So great is the number of species of warbler which either visit India
every winter or remain always in the country, so small and
insignificant in appearance are these birds, so greatly do they
resemble one another, and so similar are their habits, that even the
expert ornithologist cannot identify the majority of them unless,
having the skin in one hand and a key to the warblers in the other,
he sets himself thinking strenuously. For these reasons I pay but
little attention to the warbler clan. Usually when I meet one of them,
I am content to set him down as a warbler and let him depart in peace.
But I make a few exceptions in the case of those that I may perhaps
call warblers of distinction--warblers that stand out from among
their fellows on account of their architectural skill, their peculiar
habits, or unusual colouring. The famous tailor-bird (_Orthotomus
sartorius_) is the best known of the warblers distinguished on account
of architectural skill. As a warbler of peculiar habits, I may cite
the ashy wren-warbler (_Prinia socialis_), which, as it flits about
among the bushes, makes a curious snapping noise, the cause of which
has not yet been satisfactorily determined. As warblers of unusual
colouring, the flycatcher-warblers are pre-eminent. In appearance
these resemble tits or white-eyes rather than the typical quaker-like
warblers.
_Cryptolopha xanthoschista_ and Hodgson's grey-headed
flycatcher-warbler are the names that ornithologists have given to
a very small bird. But, diminutive though he be, he is heard, if not
seen, more often than any other bird in all parts of the Western
Himalayas. It is impossible for a human being to visit any station
between Naini Tal and Murree without remarking this warbler. It is
no exaggeration to state that the bird's voice is heard in every second
tree. Oates writes of the flycatcher-warblers, "they are not known
to have any song." This is true or the reverse, according to the
interpretation placed on the word "song." If song denotes only sweet
melodies such as those of the shama and the nightingale, then indeed
flycatcher-warblers are not singers. Nevertheless they incessantly
make a joyful noise. I can vouch for the fact that their lay is heard
all day long from March to October. Before attempting to describe
the familiar sound, I deem it prudent to recall to the mind of the
reader the notice that once appeared in a third-rate music-hall:--"The
audience are respectfully requested not to throw things at the
pianist. He is doing his best." To say that this warbler emits
incessantly four or five high-pitched, not very musical notes, is to
give but a poor rendering of his vocal efforts, but it is, I fear, the
best I can do for him. He is small, so that the volume of sound he
emits is not great, but it is penetrating. Even as the cheery lay of
the _Otocompsa_ bulbuls forms the dominant note of the bird chorus in
our southern hill stations, so does the less melodious but not less
cheerful call of the flycatcher-warblers run as an undercurrent
through the melody of the feathered choir of the Himalayas.
In what follows I shall speak of Hodgson's grey-headed
flycatcher-warbler as our hero, because I shrink from constant
repetition of his double double-barrelled name. I should prefer to
give him Jerdon's name, the white-browed warbler, but for the fact
that there are a score or more other warblers with white eyebrows.
Our hero is considerably smaller than a sparrow, being only a fraction
over four inches in length, and of this over one-third is composed
of tail. The head and neck are grey, the former being set off by a
cream-coloured eyebrow. Along the middle of the head runs a band of
pale grey; this "mesial coronal band," as Oates calls it, is far more
distinct in some specimens than in others. The remainder of the upper
plumage is olive green, and the lower parts are bright yellow.
Coloured plate, No. XX, in Hume and Henderson's _Lahore to Yarkand_,
contains a very good reproduction of the bird. The upper picture on
the plate represents our hero, the lower one depicting an allied
species, Brook's grey-headed flycatcher-warbler (_C. Jerdoni_). It
is necessary to state this because the book in question was written
in 1873, since when, needless to say, the scientific names of most
birds have undergone changes. The plate in question also demonstrates
the slenderness of the foundation upon which specific differences
among warblers rest.
Our hero is an exceedingly active little bird. He is ever on the move,
and so rapid are his movements that to watch him for any length of
time through field-glasses is no mean feat. He and his mate, with
perhaps a few friends, hop about from leaf to leaf looking for quarry,
large and small. The manner in which he stows away a caterpillar an
inch long is a sight for the gods!
Sometimes two or three of these warblers attach themselves,
temporarily at any rate, to one of those flocks, composed mainly of
various species of tits and nuthatches, which form so well-marked
a feature of all wooded hills in India. Hodgson's warblers are
pugnacious little creatures. Squabbles are frequent. It is
impossible to watch two or three of them for long without seeing what
looks like one tiny animated golden fluff ball pursuing another from
branch to branch and even from tree to tree.
The breeding season lasts from March to June. The nest is globular
in shape, made of moss or coarse grass, and lined with some soft
material, such as wool. The entrance is usually at one side. The nest
is placed on a sloping bank at the foot of a bush, so that it is likely
to escape observation unless one sees the bird flying to it. Three
or four glossy white eggs are laid. Many years ago Colonel Marshall
recorded the case of a nest at Naini Tal "at the side of a narrow
glen with a northern aspect and about four feet above the pathway,
close to a spring from which my _bhisti_ daily draws water, the bird
sitting fearlessly while passed and repassed by people going down
the glen within a foot or two of the nest." At the same station I
recently had a very different experience. Some weeks ago I noticed
one of these warblers fly with a straw in its beak to a place on a
steep bank under a small bush. I could not see what it was doing there,
but in a few seconds it emerged with the bill empty. Shortly afterwards
it returned with another straw. Having seen several pieces of building
material carried to the spot, I descended the bank to try to find
the nest. I could find nothing; the nest was evidently only just
commenced. I then went back to the spot from which I had been watching
the birds, but they did not return again. I had frightened them away.
Individual birds of the same species sometimes differ considerably
in their behaviour at the nesting season. Some will desert the nest
on the slightest provocation, while others will cling to it in the
most quixotic manner. It is never safe to dogmatise regarding the
behaviour of birds. No sooner does an ornithologist lay down a law
than some bird proceeds to break it.
_THE SPOTTED FORKTAIL_
"Striking" is, in my opinion, the correct adjective to apply to the
spotted forktail (_Henicurus maculatus_). Like the paradise
flycatcher, it is a bird which cannot fail to obtrude itself upon
the most unobservant person, and, once seen, it is never likely to
be forgotten. I well remember the first occasion on which I saw a
spotted forktail; I was walking down a Himalayan path, alongside of
which a brook was flowing, when suddenly from a rock in mid-stream
there arose a black-and-white apparition, that flitted away,
displaying a long tail fluttering behind it. The plumage of this
magnificent bird has already been described.
As was stated above, this species is often called the hill-wagtail.
The name is not a particularly good one, because wagtails proper occur
in the Himalayas.
The forktail, however, has many of the habits of the true wagtail.
I was on the point of calling it a glorified wagtail, but I refrain.
Surely it is impossible to improve upon a wagtail.
In India forktails are confined to the Himalayas and the mountainous
parts of Burma.
There are no fewer than eight Indian species, but I propose to confine
myself to the spotted forktail. This is essentially a bird of mountain
streams. It is never found far from water, but occurs at all altitudes
up to the snow-line, so that, as Jerdon says, it is one of the
characteristic adjuncts of Himalayan scenery. Indeed I know of few
things more enjoyable than to sit, when the sun is shining, on the
bank of a well-shaded burn, and, soothed by the soft melody of running
water, watch the forktails moving nimbly over the boulders and stones
with fairy tread, half-flight half-hop.
Forktails continually wag the tail, just as wagtails do, but not with
quite the same vigour, possibly because there is so much more to wag!
Like wagtails, they do not object to their feet being wet, indeed
they love to stand in running water.
Forktails often seek their quarry among the dead leaves that become
collected in the various angles in the bed of the stream; when so
doing they pick up each leaf, turn it over, and cast it aside just
as the seven sisters do. They seem to like to work upstream when
seeking for food. Jerdon states that he does not remember ever having
seen a forktail perch; nevertheless the bird frequently flies on to
a branch overhanging the brook, and rests there, slowly vibrating
its forked tail as if in deep meditation.
Spotted forktails are often seen near the places where the _dhobis_
wash clothes by banging them violently against rocks, hence the name
dhobi-birds, by which they are called by many Europeans. The little
forktail does not haunt the washerman's _ghat_ for the sake of human
companionship, for it is a bird that usually avoids man. The
explanation is probably that the shallow pool in which the _dhobi_
works and grunts is well adapted to the feeding habits of the forktail.
I may here remark that in the Himalayas the washerman usually pursues
his occupation in a pool in a mountain stream overhung with oaks and
rhododendron trees, amid scenery that would annually attract
thousands of visitors did it happen to be within a hundred miles of
London. Not that the prosaic _dhobi_ cares two straws for the
scenery--nor, I fear, does the pretty little forktail. As I have
already hinted, forktails are rather shy birds. If they think they
are being watched they become restless and stand about on boulders,
uttering a prolonged plaintive note, which is repeated at intervals
of a few seconds. When startled they fly off, emitting a loud scream.
But they are pugnacious to others of their kind, especially at the
breeding season. I once saw a pair attack and drive away from the
vicinity of their nest a Himalayan whistling-thrush (_Myiophoneus
temmincki_)--another bird that frequents hill-streams, and a near
relation of the Malabar whistling-thrush or idle schoolboy.
The nursery of the forktail, although quite a large cup-shaped
structure, is not easy to discover; it blends well with its
surroundings, and the birds certainly will not betray its presence
if they know they are being watched. The nest is, to use Hume's words,
"sometimes hidden in a rocky niche, sometimes on a bare ledge of rock
overhung by drooping ferns and sometimes on a sloping bank, at the
root of some old tree, in a very forest of club moss." I once spent
several afternoons in discovering a forktail's nest which I was
positive existed and contained young, because I had repeatedly seen
the parents carrying grubs in the bill. My difficulty was that the
stream to which the birds had attached themselves was in a deep ravine,
the sides of which were so steep that no animal save a cat could have
descended it without making a noise and being seen by the birds.
Eventually I decorated my _topi_ with bracken fronds, after the
fashion of 'Arry at Burnham Beeches on the August bank holiday. Thus
arrayed, I descended to the stream and hid myself in the hollow stump
of a tree, near the place where I knew the nest must be. By crouching
down and drawing some foliage about me, I was able to command a small
stretch of the stream. My arrival was of course the signal for loud
outcries on the part of the parent forktails. However, after I had
been squatting about ten minutes in my _cache_, to the delight of
hundreds of winged insects, the suspicions of the forktails subsided,
and the birds began collecting food, working their way upstream. They
came nearer and nearer, until one of them passed out of sight, although
it was within 10 feet of me. It was thus evident that the nest was
so situated that what remained of the tree-trunk obstructed my view
of it. This was annoying, but I had one resource left, namely, to
sit patiently until the sound of chirping told me that a parent bird
was at the nest with food.
This sound was not long in coming, and the moment I heard it, up I
jumped like a Jack-in-the-box, but without the squeak, in time to
see a forktail leave a spot on the bank about 6 feet above the water.
I was surprised, as I had the day before examined that place without
discovering the nest. However, I went straight to the spot from which
the forktail had flown, and found the nest after a little searching.
The bank was steep and of uneven surface. Here and there a slab of
stone projected from it and pointed downwards. Into a natural hollow
under one of these projecting slabs a nest consisting of a large mass
of green moss and liver-worts had been wedged. From the earth above
the slab grew some ferns, which partially overhung the nest. Across
the nest, a few inches in front of it, ran a moss-covered root. From
out of the mossy walls of the nest there emerged a growing plant.
All these things served to divert attention from the nest, bulky
though this was, its outer walls being over 2 inches thick. The inner
wall was thin--a mere lining to the earth. The nest contained four
young birds, whose eyes were barely open. The young ones were covered
with tiny parasites, which seemed quite ready for a change of diet,
for immediately after picking up one of the young forktails, I found
some thirty or forty of these parasites crawling over my hand!
There is luck in finding birds' nests, as in everything else. A few
days after I had discovered the one above mentioned, I came upon
another without looking for it. When I was walking along a hill-stream
a forktail flew out from the bank close beside me, and a search of
thirty seconds sufficed to reveal a well-concealed nest containing
three eggs. These are much longer than they are broad. They are
cream-coloured, mottled and speckled with tiny red markings.
_THE NEST OF THE GREY-WINGED OUZEL_
On several occasions this year (1910) I have listened with unalloyed
pleasure to the sweet blackbird-like song of the grey-winged ouzel
(_Merula boulboul_) at Naini Tal--a station in the Himalayas,
consisting of over a hundred bungalows dotted on the well-wooded
hillsides that tower 1200 feet above a mountain lake that is itself
6000 feet above the level of the sea. On the northern slope of one
of the mountains on the north side of the Naini Tal lake, is a deep
ravine, through which runs a little stream. The sides of the ravine
are covered with trees--mainly rhododendron, oak, and holly.
On July 1st I went 1000 feet down this ravine to visit the nest of
a spotted forktail (_Henicurus maculatus_) which I had discovered
a week previously. Having duly inspected the blind, naked,
newly-hatched forktails, I went farther down the stream to try to
see something of a pair of red-billed blue magpies (_Urocissa
occipitalis_).
The magpies were not at home that afternoon, and while waiting for
them I caught sight of a bird among the foliage lower down the hill.
At first I took this for a Himalayan whistling-thrush. I followed
its movements through my field-glasses, and saw it alight on part
of the gnarled and twisted trunk of a rhododendron tree. Closer
inspection showed that the bird was a grey-winged ouzel. He had
apparently caught sight of me, for his whole attitude was that of
a suspicious bird with a nest in the vicinity. He remained motionless
for several minutes.
As I watched him a ray of sunlight penetrated the thick foliage and
fell upon the part of the tree where he was standing, and revealed
to me that he was on the edge of a cunningly-placed nest.
The trunk of the rhododendron tree bifurcated about 20 feet above
the ground; one limb grew nearly upright, the other almost
horizontally for a few feet, and then broke up into five branches,
or, rather, gave off four upwardly-directed branches, each as thick
as a man's wrist, and then continued its horizontal direction, greatly
diminished in size.
The four upwardly-directed branches took various directions, each
being considerably twisted, and one actually curling round its
neighbour. At the junction of the various branches lay the nest,
resting on the flat surface, much as a large, shallow pill-box might
rest in the half-closed palm of the hand of a man whose fingers were
rugged and twisted with years of hard toil.
The upper part of the trunk was covered by a thick growth of green
moss, and from it two or three ferns sprang.
As the exterior of the nest consisted entirely of green moss, it
blended perfectly with its surroundings. From below it could not
possibly have been seen. When I caught sight of it I was standing
above it at the top of the ravine, and even then I should probably
have missed seeing it, had not that ray of sunlight fallen on the
nest and imparted a golden tint to the fawn-coloured plumage of the
nestlings which almost completely filled the nest cup.
The situation of this nest may be said to be typical, although cases
are on record of the nursery being placed on the ground at the root
of a tree, or on the ledge of a rock. Many ouzels' nests are placed
on the stumps of pollard trees, and in such cases the shoots which
grow out of the stump often serve to hide the nest from view. The
nests built by grey-winged ouzels vary considerably in structure.
The commonest form is that of a massive cup, composed exteriorly of
moss and lined with dry grass, a layer of mud being inserted between
the moss and the grass lining. This mud layer does not invariably
occur.
The cock ouzel remained for fully five minutes with one eye on me,
and then flew off. I seized the opportunity to approach nearer the
nest, and took up a position on the hillside level with it, at a
distance of about 14 feet.
In a few minutes the hen bird appeared. Her prevailing hue is reddish
brown, while the cock is black all over, save for some large patches
of dark grey on the wings. In each sex the bill and legs are reddish
yellow, the bill being the more brightly coloured. The hen caught
sight of me and beat a hurried retreat, without approaching the nest.
The young ouzels kept very still; occasionally one of them would half
raise its head. That was almost the only movement I noticed.
Presently the cock appeared, with his beak full of caterpillars. He
alighted on a branch a few feet from the nest, where he caught sight
of me; but instead of flying off as the hen had done, he held his
ground and fixed his eye on me, no doubt swearing inwardly, but no
audible sound escaped him.
Whenever I have watched a pair of birds feeding their young, I have
almost invariably noticed that one of them is far more alarmed at
my presence than the other. The ouzels proved no exception to the
rule. In this case it was the cock who showed himself the bolder spirit.
He remained watching me for fully ten minutes, his legs and body as
immobile as those of a statue, but he occasionally turned his head
to one side in order to obtain a better view of me; and I could then
see, outlined against the sky, the wriggling forms of several
caterpillars hanging from his bill. I hoped that he would pluck up
courage to feed his youngsters before my eyes; but his heart failed
him, for presently he flew to another tree a little farther away,
whence he again contemplated me. After this he kept changing his
position, never uttering a sound, and always retaining hold of the
beakful of caterpillars. After a little the hen returned with her
bill full of caterpillars, but she did not venture within 75 feet
of the nest. I was not permitted to observe how long it would take
the parental instinct to overcome the natural timidity of the birds.
The sky suddenly became overcast, and a few minutes later I found
myself enveloped in what the Scotch call a "wet mist." At certain
seasons of the year rain storms come up as unexpectedly in the
Himalayas as they do in the Grampians.
The rain put a final end to my observations on that nest, as I had
to leave Naini Tal on the following day--an event which caused more
sorrow to me than to the ouzels!
_THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW GROSBEAK_
The Indian grosbeaks are birds of limited distribution; they appear
to be confined to the forests on the higher ranges of the Himalayas.
Their most striking feature is the stout conical bill, which is an
exaggeration of that of the typical finch, and is responsible for
the bird's name. In one genus of grosbeak--_Mycerobas_--the bill is
as deep as it is long, while in the other genus--_Pycnorhamphus_--it
is nearly as massive. Three species belonging to this latter genus
occur in India, namely, _P. icteroides_, the black-and-yellow
grosbeak, found in the Western Himalayas; _P. affinis_, the allied
grosbeak, found in Nepal, Sikkim, Tibet, and Western China; and _P.
carneipes_, the white-winged grosbeak, which occurs all along the
higher Himalayas.
There is only one Indian species of the other genus; this is known
as the spotted-winged grosbeak (_Mycerobas melanoxanthus_), the
localities in which this occurs are said to be "the Himalayas from
the Hazara country to Sikkim at considerable elevations and Manipur."
The only Indian grosbeak which I have met in the flesh is the
yellow-and-black species. This bird is common in the hills round about
Murree, so that, when on ten days' leave there, I had some opportunity
of studying its habits. It is a bird of the same size as the Indian
oriole (_Oriolus kundoo_). The cock grosbeak, indeed, bears a
striking resemblance to the black-headed oriole (_Oriolus
melanocephalus_). His whole head, chin, throat, wings, shoulders,
upper-tail-coverts, and thighs are black, the remainder of the
plumage is a rich yellow, tinged with orange at the hind neck. Thus
the colour and markings are almost identical with those of the
black-headed oriole, the chief difference being that the latter has
a little yellow in the wing. So great is the resemblance that the
casual observer will, in nine cases out of ten, mistake the grosbeak
for an oriole. The resemblance extends to size and shape, as the
following table shows:
Length Length Length Length Length
of Bird. of Tail. of Wing. of Tarsus. of Beak.
Grosbeak . . 9.0 in. 3.7 in. 5.2 in. 1.0 in. 1.0 in.
Oriole . . . 9.5 " 3.4 " 5.4 " 1.0 " 1.3 "
The hen grosbeak differs considerably in colour and marking both from
the cock of her species and from the hen black-headed oriole. She
is a dull ashy-grey bird, tinged faintly with yellowish red on the
back and abdomen. Her wings and tail are black. The only young grosbeak
that I have seen resembled the female in appearance, except that it
had a yellow rump. It was being fed by a cock bird.
Grosbeaks live in forests, and go about either in couples or in small
companies. They seem to feed largely on the ground, picking up insects.
The beak of the finch tribe is adapted to a diet of seeds; nevertheless,
many finches vary this food with insects. I saw a grosbeak seize,
shake, and devour a caterpillar about two inches in length. Grosbeaks
also eat berries and stone fruit. When disturbed they at once betake
themselves to a tree, among the branches of which they are able to
make their way with great agility. Grosbeaks are restless birds,
always on the move, here to-day and gone to-morrow. The cock emits
a call at frequent intervals. This is not easy to describe. It sounds
something like _kiu kree_.
The nest is a cup-shaped structure, composed exteriorly of twigs,
grass, and moss, and lined with stalks of maiden-hair fern and fine
roots. It is usually placed high up in a fir tree. Colonel Rattray
believes that the birds bring up two broods in the year. They lay
first in May, and, as soon as the young are able to shift for themselves,
a second nest is made. Thus in July both young birds at large and
nests with eggs are likely to be seen. The eggs are not unlike those
of the English hawfinch; the ground colour is pale greenish grey,
blotched and spotted with blackish brown. Sometimes the markings
occur chiefly at the broad end of the eggs.
The most striking feature of the black-and-yellow grosbeak, and that
on which I wish particularly to dwell, is the extraordinary
resemblance that the cock bird bears to the cock black-headed oriole.
If this extended to the hen, and if the grosbeak were parasitic on
the oriole, it would be held up as an example of mimicry. We should
be told that owing to its resemblance to its dupe it was able to
approach the nest without raising any suspicion and deposit its egg.
But the grosbeak is not parasitic on the oriole, and it is the cock
and not the hen that bears the resemblance; moreover, the black-headed
oriole does not occur in the Himalayas, so that neither the grosbeak
nor the oriole can possibly derive any benefit from this resemblance.
Now, cabinet zoologists are never tired of writing about mimicry.
They assert that when organisms belonging to different families bear
a close external resemblance, this resemblance has been brought about
by natural selection. Having made this assertion, they expend reams
of paper in demonstrating how one or both of the species benefits
by the resemblance.
However, scientific books make no mention of the resemblance between
the oriole and the grosbeak. The reason for this is, of course, that
the resemblance in this instance cannot be a case of mimicry. Now,
I regret to have to say that men of science take up the same attitude
towards their theories as lawyers do regarding the cases they argue
in Courts of Justice. There would be no harm in taking up this attitude
if men of science were to explain that they are acting the part of
advocates, that they are fighting for a theory, and trying to persuade
the world to accept this theory. It is because they masquerade as
judges, and put forward a one-sided case as a matured judicial finding,
that I take exception to their methods.
The trouble is that scientific men to-day form a brotherhood, a
hierarchy, which lays claim to infallibility, or rather tacitly
assumes infallibility.
They form a league into which none are admitted except those who take
the oath of allegiance; and, of course, to expose the weakness of
the scientific doctrines of the time is equivalent to violating the
oath of allegiance. Now, the man of science who has to earn his living
by his science, has either to join the league or run the risk of
starving. This explains how a small coterie of men has things very
much its own way; how it can lay down the law without fear of
contradiction. If a man does arise and declines to accept the fiats
of this league, it is not difficult for the members to combine and
tell the general public that that man is a foolish crank, who does
not know what he is talking about; and the public naturally accepts
this dictum.
The only scientific men who, as a class, are characterised by humility
are the meteorologists. I always feel sorry for the meteorologist.
He has to predict the weather, and every man is able to test the value
of these predictions. The zoologist, on the other hand, does not
predict anything. He merely lays down the law to people who know
nothing of law. He assures the world that he can explain all organic
phenomena, and the world believes him.
As a matter of fact, zoology is quite as backward as meteorology.
Those who do not wish to be deceived will do well to receive with
caution all the zoological theories which at present hold the field.
Before many years have passed all of them will have been modified
beyond recognition. Most of them are already out of date.
There are doubtless good reasons for the colouring of both the
grosbeak and the oriole; what these reasons are we know not. But as
neither derives any benefit from the resemblance to the other, this
_resemblance_ cannot have been effected by natural selection. Now,
if the unknown forces, which cause the various organisms to take their
varied colours and forms, sometimes produce two organisms of
different families which closely resemble one another, and the
organisms in question are so distributed that neither can derive the
slightest advantage in the struggle for existence from the
resemblance, there is no reason why similar resemblances should not
be produced in the case of organisms which occupy the same areas of
the earth. Thus it is quite possible that many so-called cases of
mimicry are nothing of the kind.
The mere fact that one of the organisms in question may profit by
the likeness is not sufficient to demonstrate that natural selection
is responsible for the resemblance.
In this connection we must bear in mind that, according to the orthodox
Darwinian theory, the resemblance must have come about gradually,
and in its beginnings it cannot have profited the mimic _as a
resemblance_.
So plastic are organisms, and so great is the number of living things
in the earth, that it is not surprising that very similar forms should
sometimes arise independently and in different parts of the globe.
Several instances of this fortuitous resemblance are cited in
Beddard's _Animal Colouration_; others are cited in _The Making of
Species_ by Finn, and myself.
Perhaps the most striking case is that of a cuckoo found in New Zealand,
known as _Eudynamis taitensis_. This is a near relative of the Indian
koel, which bears remarkable resemblance to an American hawk
(_Accipiter cooperi_). Writing of this cuckoo, Sir Walter Buller
says: "Not only has our cuckoo the general contour of Cooper's
sparrow-hawk, but the tear-shaped markings on the underparts, and
the arrow-head bars on the femoral plumes are exactly similar in both.
The resemblance is carried still further, in the beautifully-banded
tail and marginal wing coverts, and likewise in the distribution of
colours and markings on the sides of the neck. On turning to Mr.
Sharpe's description of the young male of this species in his
catalogue of the Accipitres in the British Museum, it will be seen
how many of the terms employed apply equally to our Eudynamis, even
to the general words, 'deep brown above with a chocolate gloss, all
the feathers of the upper surface broadly edged with rufous.' ...
Beyond the general grouping of the colours there is nothing to remind
us of our own Bush-hawk; and that there is no great protective
resemblance is sufficiently manifested, from the fact that our cuckoo
is persecuted on every possible occasion by the tits, which are
timorous enough in the presence of a hawk."
These cases of chance resemblance should make us unwilling to talk
about "mimicry," unless there is actual proof that one or other of
the similar species benefits by the resemblance.
These cases, further, throw light on the origin of protective mimicry
where it does exist.
Protective mimicry is usually said to have been brought about by the
action of natural selection. This is not strictly accurate. Natural
selection cannot cause two showy, dissimilar species to resemble one
another; all it can do is to seize upon and perfect a resemblance
that has been caused by the numerous factors that have co-operated
to bring about all the diversity of organic life upon this earth.
_THE GREAT HIMALAYAN BARBET_
Barbets may be described as woodpeckers that are trying to become
toucans. The most toucan-like of them all is the great Himalayan
barbet (_Megalaema marshallorum_). Barbets are heavily-built birds
of medium size, armed with formidable beaks, which they do not
hesitate to use for aggressive purposes. As regards the nests they
excavate, the eggs they lay, the pad that grows on the hocks of young
birds, and their flight, they resemble their cousins the woodpeckers.
But they are fruit-eating birds, and not insectivorous; it is this
that constitutes the chief difference between them and the
woodpeckers. Barbets are found throughout the tropical world. A
number of species occur in India. The best known of these is the
coppersmith, or crimson-breasted barbet (_Xantholaema haematocephala_),
the little green fiend, gaudily painted about the head, which makes the
hot weather in India seem worse than it really is by filling the welkin
with the eternal monotone that resembles the sound of a hammer on a
brazen vessel. Nearly as widely distributed are the various species of
green barbet (_Thereiceryx_), whose call is scarcely less exasperating
than that of the coppersmith, and may be described as the word _kutur_
shouted many times and usually preceded by a harsh laugh or cackle.
The finest of all the barbets are the _Megalaemas_. The great
Himalayan barbet attains a length of 13 inches. There is no lack of
colour in its plumage. The head and neck are a rich violet blue. The
upper back is brownish olive with pale green longitudinal streaks.
The lower back and the tail are bright green. The wings are green
washed with blue, brown, and yellow. The upper breast is brown, and
the remainder of the lower plumage, with the exception of a scarlet
patch of feathers under the tail, is yellow with a blue band running
along the middle line. This bright red patch under the tail is not
uncommon in the bird world, and, curiously enough, it occurs in birds
in no way related to one another and having little or nothing in common
as regards habits. It is seen in many bulbuls, robins, and woodpeckers,
and in the pitta. The existence of these red under tail-coverts in
such diverse species can, I think, be explained only on the hypothesis
that there is an inherent tendency to variation in this direction
in many species.
A striking feature of the great Himalayan barbet is its massive yellow
bill, which is as large as that of some species of toucan. Although
the bird displays a number of brilliant colours, it is not at all
easy to distinguish from its leafy surroundings. It is one of those
birds which are heard more often than seen.
Barbets are never so happy as when listening to their own voices.
Most birds sing and make a joyful noise only at the nesting season.
Not so the barbets; they call all the year round; even unfledged
nestlings raise up the voices of infantile squeakiness.
The call of the great Himalayan barbet is very distinctive and easy
to recognise, but is far from easy to portray in words. Jerdon
described the call as a plaintive _pi-o_, _pi-o_. Hutton speaks of
it as _hoo-hoo-hoo_. Scully syllabises it as _till-low_, _till-low_,
_till-low_. Perhaps the best description of the note is that it is
a mournful wailing, _pee-yu_, _pee-yu_, _pee-yu_. Some like the note,
and consider it both striking and pleasant. Others would leave out
the second adjective. Not a few regard the cry as the reverse of
pleasant, and consider the bird a nuisance. As the bird is always
on the move--its call at one moment ascends from the depths of a leafy
valley and at the next emanates from a tree on the summit of some
hill--the note does not get on one's nerves as that of the coppersmith
does. Whether men like its note or not, they all agree that it is
plaintive and wailing. This, too, is the opinion of hillmen, some
of whom declare that the souls of men who have suffered injuries in
the Law Courts, and who have in consequence died of broken hearts,
transmigrate into the great Himalayan barbets, and that is why these
birds wail unceasingly _un-nee-ow_, _un-nee-ow_, which means
"injustice, injustice." Obviously, the hillmen have not a high
opinion of our Law Courts!
Himalayan barbets go about in small flocks, the members of which call
out in chorus. They keep to the top of high trees, where, as has been
said, they are not easily distinguished from the foliage. When perched
they have a curious habit of wagging the tail from side to side, as
a dog does, but with a jerky, mechanical movement. Their flight is
noisy and undulating, like that of a woodpecker. They are said to
subsist exclusively on fruit. This is an assertion which I feel
inclined to challenge. In the first place, the species remains in
the Himalayas all the year round, and fruit must be very scarce there
in winter. Moreover, Mr. S. M. Townsend records that a barbet kept
by him in captivity on one occasion devoured with gusto a dead mouse
that had been placed in its cage. Barbets nest in cavities in the
trunks of trees, which they themselves excavate with their powerful
beaks, after the manner of woodpeckers. The entrance to the nest
cavity is a neat circular hole in a tree at heights varying from 15
to 50 feet. Most birds which rear their broods in holes enter and
leave the nest cavity fearlessly, even when they know they are being
watched by human beings, evidently feeling that their eggs or young
birds are securely hidden away in the heart of the tree. Not so the
_Megalaema_. It is as nervous about the site of its nest as a lapwing
is. Nevertheless, on one occasion, when the nest of a pair of the
great Himalayan barbets was opened out and found to contain an egg
and a young bird, which latter was left unmolested, the parent birds
continued to feed the young one, notwithstanding the fact that the
nest had been so greatly damaged. The eggs are white, like those of
all species which habitually nest in holes.
_PART II_
_The Common Birds of the Nilgiris_
_THE COMMON BIRDS OF THE NILGIRIS_
The avifauna of the Nilgiris is considerably smaller than that of
the Himalayas. This phenomenon is easily explained. The Nilgiris
occupy a far less extensive area; they display less diversity of
climate and scenery; the lofty peaks, covered with eternal snow, which
form the most conspicuous feature of the Himalayan landscape, are
wanting in the Nilgiris.
The birds found in and about a Nilgiri hill station differ in character
from those of the plains distant but a score of miles.
Of the common birds of the plains of Madras, the only ones that are
really abundant on the Nilgiris are the black crow, the sparrow, the
white-eye, the Madras bulbul, the myna, the purple sunbird, the
tailor-bird, the ashy wren-warbler, the rufous-backed shrike, the
white-browed fantail flycatcher, the Indian pipit, the Indian
skylark, the common kingfisher, the pied crested cuckoo, the
scavenger vulture, the Pondicherry vulture, the white-backed vulture,
the shikra, the spotted dove, and the little brown dove.
The distribution of the avifauna of mountainous countries is largely
a matter of elevation. At the base of the Nilgiris all the plains
birds of the neighbourhood occur, and most of them extend some way
up the hillsides. The majority, however, do not ascend as high as
1000 feet.
At elevations of 3000 feet the avifauna of the hills is already
markedly different from that of the plains; nevertheless many of the
hill species do not descend to this level, at any rate in the summer.
It is, therefore, necessary, when speaking of a plains bird as
occurring or not occurring on the hills, to define precisely what
is intended by this expression.
That which follows is written for people who visit the Nilgiri hill
stations in the hot weather, and therefore the birds described are
those which occur at elevations of 5500 feet and upwards in the summer.
Those which visit the hills only in winter are either altogether
ignored or given but the briefest mention.
This article does not deal exhaustively with the birds of the
Nilgiris; it is merely a short account of the birds commonly seen
in the higher regions of those hills during the summer months. To
compile an exhaustive list would be easy. I refrain from doing so
because a reader unacquainted with Indian ornithology would, if
confronted by such a list, find it difficult to identify the common
birds.
With this by way of introduction, I will proceed to describe the birds
in question, dealing with them according to the classification
adopted in the standard book on Indian ornithology--the bird volumes
of the "Fauna of British India" series.
THE CORVIDAE OR CROW FAMILY
This family is not nearly so well represented on the Nilgiris as it
is in the Himalayas. The only crow found on the Nilgiris is the Indian
corby (_Corvus macrorhynchus_)--the large black crow familiar to
persons living in the plains. He, alas, is plentiful in the various
hill stations; but it is some consolation that the grey-necked
_Corvus_ ceases from troubling those who seek the cool heights.
Like the grey-necked crow, the Indian tree-pie is not found at the
Nilgiri hill stations--5000 feet appears to be the highest elevation
to which he attains.
Of the tits only one species can be said to be common on the higher
Nilgiris: this is the Indian grey tit (_Parus atriceps_)--a striking
little bird, smaller than a sparrow. The head, throat, and neck are
black, and a strip of this hue runs down the middle of the abdomen.
The wings and tail are grey. The cheeks, the sides of the abdomen,
and a patch on the back of the head are white. There is also a narrow
white bar in the wing, and the grey tail is edged with white. The
bird is found all over India, but is far more abundant on the hills
than in the plains.
Another tit which, I believe, does not ascend so high as Ootacamund,
but which is not uncommon in the vicinity of Coonoor is the southern
yellow tit (_Machlolophus haplonotus_). This bird is not, as its name
would seem to imply, clothed from head to foot in yellow. Its
prevailing hues are green and brown. The head, breast, and upper
abdomen are bright yellow, except the crown, crest, a broad streak
behind the eye, and a band running from the chin to the abdomen, which
are black. It is impossible to mistake this sprightly little bird,
which is like the English tom-tit in shape. Tits are arboreal in
habits; they seldom descend to the ground. Sometimes they go about
in small flocks. They are supposed to live chiefly on insects, but
most of them feed on fruit and seeds also, and the grey tit, alas,
eats peas, among which it works sad havoc. The inhabitants of the
Nilgiris call this last _Puttani kurivi_, which, I understand, means
the pea-bird.
THE CRATEROPODIDAE OR BABBLER FAMILY
This heterogeneous family is well represented in the Nilgiris.
The Madras seven sisters (_Crateropus griseus_) do not ascend the
hills to any considerable height. But, of course there are seven
sisters in the hills. Every part of India has its flocks of babblers.
The Nilgiri babbler is a shy bird; it seems to dislike being watched.
One might think it is aware that it is not so beautiful as it might
be. But this cannot be the reason, because it has no objection to
any person hearing its voice, which may be likened to the squeak of
a rusty axle. This Nilgiri babbler does not enter gardens unless they
are somewhat unkempt and contain plenty of thick bushes.
_Mirabile dictu_, this shy and retiring bird is none other than the
jungle babbler (_Crateropus canorus_)--the common seven sisters or
_sath bhai_--which in northern India is as bold and almost as
confiding as the robin. No one has attempted to explain why the habits
of this species on the Nilgiris should differ so much from those it
displays in other places.
The southern scimitar-babbler (_Pomatorhinus horsfieldi_), like the
jungle babbler on the Nilgiris, is a bird heard more often than seen.
Every person who has spent any time at Coonoor must be well acquainted
with the notes of this species. A common call is a loud
_ko-ko-ko-e-e-e_. Sometimes one bird calls _ko-ko-ko_, and another
answers _ko-ee_. When the birds are feeding in company, they keep
up a continual chatter, which is not unpleasing to the ear. When
alarmed they give vent to a harsh cry of a kind characteristic of
the babbler tribe. The scimitar-babbler is a bird nearly as big as
a myna. It is of brownish hue and has a tail of moderate length. The
breast and chin are pure white, and there is a white line running
along each side of the head from front to back. The yellow beak is
long and curved, hence the adjectival "scimitar." It is impossible
to mistake the bird. The difficulty is to obtain anything more than
a fleeting glimpse of it. It is so shy that it takes cover the instant
it knows that it is being watched. It hops about in thick bushes with
considerable address, much as a crow-pheasant does. It feeds on
insects, which it picks off the ground or from leaves and trunks of
trees. It uses the long bill as a probe, by means of which it secures
insects lurking in the crevices of bark.
The Nilgiri laughing-thrush (_Trochalopterum cachinnans_) is a very
common bird on the hills. Like the two species of babbler already
described, it is a shy creature, living amid thick shrubs, from which
it seldom ventures far. The head is slightly crested, the upper
plumage, including the wings and tail, is olive brown. The head is
set off by a white eyebrow. The under parts are chestnut. The beak
and legs are black. Laughing-thrushes congregate in small flocks.
They subsist chiefly on fruit. Their cry is loud and characteristic;
it may be described as a bird's imitation of human laughter. Their
cheerful calls are among the sounds heard most often at Ootacamund
and Coonoor.
The Indian white-eye (_Zosterops palpebrosa_) is a bird that has
puzzled systematists. Jerdon classed it among the tits, and its habits
certainly justify the measure; but later ornithologists have not
accepted the dictum "Manners makyth bird," and have placed the
white-eye among the babblers.
The white-eye is a plump little bird, considerably smaller than a
sparrow. The head and back are yellowish green, becoming almost golden
in the sunlight. The wings and tail are brown. The chin, breast, and
feathers under the tail are bright yellow, the abdomen is white. Round
the eye is a ring of white feathers, interrupted in front by a black
patch.
From this ring--its most striking feature--the bird has derived its
name. The ring is very regular, and causes the bird to look as though
it had been decorating its eye with Aspinall's best enamel.
White-eyes invariably go about in flocks; each member of the company
utters unceasingly a cheeping note in order to keep his fellows
apprized of his movements. These birds feed largely on insects, which
they pick off leaves in truly tit-like manner, sometimes even hanging
head downwards in order to secure a morsel.
The beautiful southern green-bulbul (_Chloropsis malabarica_) is
numbered among the Crateropodidae. It is not a true bulbul. It is
common on the lower slopes of the Nilgiris, but does not often venture
as high as Coonoor. A rich green bulbul-like bird with a golden
forehead, a black chin and throat, and a patch of blue on the wing
can be none other than this species.
The true bulbuls are also classified among the Crateropodidae.
My experience is that the common bulbul of the plains--_Molpastes
haemorrhous_, or the Madras red-vented bulbul--is very rarely seen
at the Nilgiri hill stations. Jerdon, likewise, states that it ascends
the Nilgiris only up to about 6000 feet. Davison, however, declares
that the bird begins to get common 4 miles from Ootacamund and is
very numerous about Coonoor and all down the ghats. Be this as it
may, the Madras red-vented bulbul is not the common bulbul of the
Nilgiris. Its sweet notes are very largely, if not entirely, replaced
by the yet sweeter and more cheery calls of the hill-bulbul. It will
be labour lost to look up this name in Oates's ornithology, because
it does not occur in that work. The smart, lively little bird, whose
unceasing twittering melody gives our southern hill stations half
their charm, has been saddled by men of science with the pompous
appellation _Otocompsa fuscicaudata_. Even more objectionable is the
English name for the pretty, perky bird. What shall I say of the good
taste of those who call it the red-whiskered bulbul, as though it
were a seedy Mohammedan who dips his grizzly beard in a pot of red
dye by way of beautifying it? I prefer to call this bird the southern
hill-bulbul. This name, I admit, leaves something to be desired,
because the species is not confined to the hills. It is to be found
in most places along the west coast. Nor is it the only bulbul living
on the hills. The justification for the name is that if a census were
taken of the bird-folk who dwell in our hill stations, it would show
that _Otocompsa fuscicaudata_ outnumbered all the crows, mynas,
sparrows, flycatchers, and sunbirds put together. It is _the_ bird
of the southern hills. Every thicket, every tree--nay, every bush
on the hills--has its pair of bulbuls. This species has distinctive
plumage. Its most striking feature is a perky crest, which arises
from the crown of the head and terminates in a forwardly-directed
point, like Mr. Punch's cap. The crest is black and gives the bird
a very saucy air. The wings and tail are dark brown, but each feather
has a pale edge, which makes a pattern like scales on a fish. Below
the eye is a brilliant patch of crimson. A similarly-coloured but
larger patch is displayed at the base of the tail. The lower part
of the cheek is white; this is divided off from the snowy breast by
a narrow black band. The breast is, in its turn, separated from the
greyish abdomen by a broad black band, which ornithologists term a
collaret. Sometimes the collaret is interrupted in the middle. The
hill-bulbul is a most vivacious bird. From dawn to sunset it is an
example of perpetual motion. Its vocal cords are as active as its
wings. The tinkling sounds of this bulbul form the dominant notes
of the bird chorus. Husband and wife almost always move about in
company. They flit from tree to tree, from bush to bush, plucking
raspberries and other hill fruit as they pass. Bulbuls eat insects,
but not when fruit is available. Like all birds bulbuls have large
appetites. Recently I saw an Otocompsa devour three wild raspberries
within as many minutes, each berry was swallowed at one gulp--a
surprising feat, considering the small size of the bird's bill.
A bulbul's nest is a beautifully-shaped cup, usually placed in a bush
at about 3 feet from the ground. As a rule, the bulbul selects an
exposed site for its nest; in consequence many of the eggs are devoured
by lizards. Crows in particular are addicted to young bulbuls, and
take full advantage of the simplicity of the parent birds. Probably,
three out of four broods never reach maturity. But the bulbul is a
philosophic little bird. It never cries over broken eggs. If one
clutch is destroyed it lays another.
The yellow-browed bulbul (_Iole icteria_) demands notice in passing,
because it is common on the minor ranges. Its upper plumage is greenish
yellow, the wings being darker than the back. The lower parts are
canary yellow; the bird has also a yellow ring round the eye. Its
note has been described as a soft, mellow whistle.
A very different bird is the southern or Nilgiri black bulbul
(_Hypsipetes ganeesa_). This is an untidy-looking creature. Its
crest is ragged. Its general hue is shabby black or brown, tinged
with grey in places. The bill and feet are bright coral red. Black
bulbuls utter a variety of notes, most of which are pleasing to the
human ear, although they incline to harshness. The birds go about
in flocks.
THE SITTIDAE OR NUTHATCH FAMILY
Nuthatches are little climbing birds characterised by short tails.
Like woodpeckers, they feed on insects, which they pick off the trunks
and branches of trees. Unlike woodpeckers, however, they move about
the trunks of trees with the head pointing indifferently downwards
or upwards. The common nuthatch of the Nilgiris is the velvet-fronted
blue nuthatch (_Sitta frontalis_). The upper plumage is dark blue,
the cock having a velvety-black forehead and a black streak through
the eye. The lower parts are creamy white. The bill is coral red.
The note is a loud _tee-tee-tee_.
THE DICRURIDAE OR DRONGO FAMILY
Several species of drongo or king-crow occur on the Nilgiris, but
not one of them is sufficiently abundant to be numbered among the
common birds of the hill stations.
THE SYLVIIDAE OR WARBLER FAMILY
Of the warblers it may be said "their name is legion." So many species
exist, and the various species are so difficult to differentiate,
that the family drives most field ornithologists to the verge of
despair. Many of the Indian warblers are only winter visitors to India.
Eliminating these, only two warblers are entitled to a place among
the common birds of the Nilgiris. These are the tailor-bird and the
ashy wren-warbler.
At Coonoor the tailor-bird (_Orthotomus sartorius_) is nearly as
abundant as it is in the plains. Oates, be it noted, states that this
species does not ascend the hills higher than 4000 feet. As a matter
of fact, the tailor-bird does not venture quite up to the plateau,
but it is perfectly at home at all elevations below 6000 feet. This
species may be likened to a wren that has grown a respectable tail.
The forehead is ruddy brown, the back of the head is grey, the back
is brown tinged with green. The lower plumage is a pale cream colour.
There is a black patch or bar on each side of the neck, visible only
when the bird stretches its neck to utter its loud _to-wee_, _to-wee_,
_to-wee_. In the breeding season the shafts of the middle pair of
tail feathers of the cock grow out beyond the rest. These projecting,
bristle-like feathers render the cock easy of identification.
The ashy wren-warbler (_Prinia socialis_) is another "tiny brownie
bird." The wings and tail are brown, the remainder of the upper plumage
is the colour of ashes, the under parts are cream coloured. This
warbler is a slight, loosely-built bird, and is easily distinguished
from others of its kind by the curious snapping noise it makes as
it flits from bush to bush. It occurs in pairs or singly. Davison
remarks that it is "very fond of working its way up to some conspicuous
post--to the top of one of the long flower-stalks of _Lobelia excelsa_,
for instance--where it will halt for a minute or two, and then, after
making a feeble attempt at a song, will dive suddenly in the brushwood
and disappear."
THE LANIIDAE OR SHRIKE FAMILY
Shrikes or butcher-birds are hawks in miniature, as regards habits
if not in structure. With the exception of the brown shrike (_Lanius
cristatus_), which is merely a winter visitor to India, the
rufous-backed shrike (_L. erythronotus_) is the only butcher-bird
common on the Nilgiris. The head of this species is pale grey, the
back is of ruddy hue. The lower parts are white. The forehead and
a broad band running through the eye are black. A bird having a broad
black band through the eye is probably a shrike, and if the bird in
question habitually sits on an exposed branch or other point of
vantage, and from thence swoops on to the ground to secure some insect,
the probability of its being a butcher-bird becomes a certainty.
Closely related to the shrikes are the minivets. Minivets are birds
of tit-like habits which wander about in small flocks from place to
place picking insects from the leaves of trees. They are essentially
arboreal birds. I have never seen a minivet on the ground.
The common minivet of the Nilgiris is the orange minivet
(_Pericrocotus flammeus_). The head and back of the cock are black.
His wings are black and flame-colour, the red being so arranged as
to form a band running lengthwise and not across the wing. The tail
feathers are red, save the median pair, which are black. During flight
the flashing red obliterates the black, so that the moving birds
resemble tongues of flame and present a beautiful and striking
spectacle. The hen is marked like the cock, but in her the red is
replaced by bright yellow. This beautiful bird ceases to be abundant
at elevations higher than Coonoor.
THE ORIOLIDAE OR ORIOLE FAMILY
Both the Indian oriole (_Oriolus kundoo_) and the black-headed oriole
(_O. melanocephalus_) occur on the Nilgiris, but on the higher ranges
they are nowhere numerous. They therefore merit only passing notice.
THE STURNIDAE OR STARLING FAMILY
The common myna of the Nilgiris is not _Acridotheres tristis_ but
_AEthiopsar fuscus_--the jungle myna. The casual observer usually
fails to notice any difference between the two species, so closely
do they resemble one another. Careful inspection, however, shows that
the jungle myna has a little patch of feathers in front of the head
over the beak. _AEthiopsar fuscus_ has all the habits of the common
myna. Like the latter, it struts about sedately in company with cattle
in order to snatch up the grasshoppers disturbed by the moving
quadrupeds. It feeds largely on the insects that infest the capsules
of _Lobelia excelsa_, and is often to be seen clinging, like a tit,
to the stem in order to secure the insects. Davidson gives these mynas
a very bad character, he declares that they do immense damage to the
fruit gardens on the Nilgiris, so that without the aid of nets, it
is next to impossible to preserve pears from their depredations.
No other species of myna is common on the Nilgiris.
THE MUSCICAPIDAE OR FLYCATCHER FAMILY
As in the Himalayas so on the Nilgiris the family of flycatchers is
well represented. In one small Nilgiri wood I have come across no
fewer than six species of flycatcher.
The beautiful little black-and-orange flycatcher (_Ochromela
nigrirufa_) is a bird peculiar to the hills of Southern India.
The head and wings of the cock are black, the rest of the body is
orange, of deeper hue on the back and breast than on the other parts.
The portions of the plumage that are black in the cock are slaty brown
in the hen. This flycatcher feeds on insects. But unlike most of its
kind, it picks them off the ground more often than it secures them
in the air.
It never takes a long flight, and almost invariably perches on a branch
not more than two feet above the ground. It emits a low cheeping
note--a _chur-r-r_, which is not unlike the sound made by some
insects.
The Nilgiri blue-flycatcher (_Stoparola albicaudata_) is
stoutly-built and a little larger than a sparrow. The male is clothed
from head to tail in dark blue; his wife is more dingy, having a
plentiful admixture of brownish grey in her plumage. Blue-flycatchers
often occur in little flocks. They have the usual habits of their
family, except that they seem sometimes to eat fruit.
A pretty little bird, of which the head, back, tail, and wings are
deep blue, and the breast is orange fading into pale yellow towards
the abdomen, is Tickell's blue-flycatcher (_Cyornis tickelli_). It
has the characteristic habits of its tribe, and continually makes,
from a perch, little sallies into the air after flying insects. But,
more often than not it starts from one branch, and, having secured
its quarry, alights on another. It sings a joyous lay, not unlike
that of the fantail-flycatcher, but less sweet and powerful. It nests
in a hole in a tree or bank, laying in May two or three eggs very
thickly speckled with red spots.
The grey-headed flycatcher (_Culicicapa ceylonensis_) is a bird of
somewhat sombre plumage. Its total length is only five inches, and
of this half is composed of tail. The head is ashy grey, the back
and wings are greenish; the lower plumage is bright yellow, but this
is not conspicuous except when the bird is on the wing. This flycatcher
has a loud song, which may be syllabised: _Think of me.... Never to
be_.
The white-browed fantail-flycatcher (_Rhipidura albifrontata_),
which delights the inhabitants of Madras with its cheerful whistle
of five or six notes, occurs on the Nilgiris, but is there largely
replaced by an allied species--the white-spotted fantail-flycatcher
(_R. pectoralis_). The latter has all the habits of the former. Both
make the same melody, and each has the habit of spreading out and
erecting the tail whenever it settles on a perch after a flight. The
white-spotted is distinguishable from the white-browed species by
the white eyebrow being much narrower and less conspicuous. It is
a black bird with a white abdomen, some white in the wings and tail,
a few white spots on the chin, and the white eyebrow mentioned above.
The most beautiful of all the flycatchers is _Terpsiphone
paradisi_--the paradise-flycatcher, or ribbon-bird, as it is often
called. This is fairly abundant on the Nilgiris. The cock in the full
glory of his adult plumage is a truly magnificent object. His crested
head is metallic blue-black. This stands out in sharp contrast to
the remainder of the plumage, which is as white as snow. Two of his
tail feathers, being 12 inches longer than the others, hang down like
satin streamers. Young cocks are chestnut instead of white. Birds
in both phases of plumage breed. The hen has the metallic blue-black
crested head, but she lacks the elongated tail feathers. Her plumage
is chestnut, like that of the young cock. In both the hen and the
young cock the breast is white. As "Eha" remarks, the hen looks very
like a bulbul.
THE TURDIDAE OR THRUSH FAMILY
This heterogeneous family includes thrushes, chats, robins,
accentors, and dippers.
The southern pied bush-chat (_Pratincola atrata_) is one of the
commonest and most familiar birds of the Nilgiris. It frequents
gardens and is often found near houses: hence it is known as the
hill-robin. The cock is clothed in black except the lower part of
the back, the under parts, and a bar on the wing, which are white.
Those parts that are black in the cock are brown in the hen, while
her back and under parts are russet instead of white, but the white
bar on the wing persists. This species lives on insects. It dwells
in low shrubs and captures its quarry on the ground. It nests in a
hole in a bank or well, lining the same with grass or hair. But summer
visitors to the hills are not likely to come across the eggs, because
these are usually hatched before May.
The Nilgiri blackbird (_Merula simillima_) is very like the blackbird
of England. The plumage of the cock, however, is not so black, and
the legs, instead of being brown, are reddish. Its charming song,
with which all who have visited Ootacamund are familiar, is almost
indistinguishable from that of its European cousin.
The Nilgiri thrush (_Oreocincla nilgirensis_) resembles the European
thrush in appearance. Its upper plumage is pale brown, spotted with
black and buff; its throat and abdomen are white with black drops.
This bird has a fine powerful song, but he who wishes to hear it has
usually to resort to one of the forests on the plateau of the Nilgiris.
THE PLOCEIDAE OR WEAVER-BIRD FAMILY
This family includes the weaver-birds, famous for their wonderful
hanging retort-shaped nests, and the munias, of which the amadavat
or _lal_ is familiar to every resident of India as a cage bird.
The weaver-birds do not ascend the hills, but several species of munia
are found on the Nilgiris. Spotted munias (_Uroloncha punctulata_)
are abundant in the vicinity of both Coonoor and Ootacamund. They
occur in flocks on closely-cropped grassland. They feed on the ground.
They are tiny birds, not much larger than white-eyes. The upper
plumage is chocolate brown, becoming a rich chestnut about the head
and neck, while the breast and abdomen are mottled black and white,
hence the popular name. The black spots on the breast and abdomen
cause these to look like the surface of a nutmeg grater; for that
reason this munia is sometimes spoken of as the nutmeg-bird. The
rufous-bellied munia (_Uroloncha pectoralis_) occurs abundantly a
little below Coonoor, but does not appear to ascend so high as
Ootacamund. Its upper parts are chocolate brown, save the feathers
above the tail, which Oates describes as "glistening fulvous." The
wings and tail are black, as are the cheeks, chin, and throat. The
lower parts are pinkish brown. The stout bill is slaty blue. Like
the spotted munia, this species is considerably smaller than a
sparrow.
The Indian red-munia or red waxbill or _lal_ (_Sporaeginthus
amandava_) is another very small bird. Its bill and eyes are bright
red. Over its brown plumage are dotted many tiny white spots. There
are also some large patches of red or crimson, notably one on the
rump. The amount of crimson varies considerably; in the breeding
season nearly the whole of the upper plumage of the cock is crimson.
Amadavats go about in flocks and utter a cheeping note during flight.
Their happy hunting grounds are tangles of long grass. Amadavats occur
all over the Nilgiris.
THE FRINGILLIDAE OR FINCH FAMILY
Finches are seed-eating birds characterised by a stout bill, which
is used for husking grain.
The common sparrow (_Passer domesticus_) is the best known member
of the finch family. Most of us see too much of him. He is to be observed
in every garden on the Nilgiris, looking as though the particular
garden in which he happens to be belongs to him. As a rule, sparrows
nest about houses, but numbers of them breed in the steep cuttings
on the road between Coonoor and Ootacamund.
The only other finch common on the Nilgiris is the rose-finch
(_Carpodacus erythrinus_). This, however, is only a winter visitor:
it departs from the Nilgiris in April and does not return until the
summer season is over.
THE HIRUNDINIDAE OR SWALLOW FAMILY
This family includes the swallows and the martins.
The swallows commonly found on the Nilgiris in summer are the Nilgiri
house-swallow (_Hirundo javanica_) and the red-rumped or mosque
swallow (_H. erythropygia_). I regret to have to state that Oates
has saddled the latter with the name "Sykes's striated swallow"; he
was apparently seduced by the sibilant alliteration!
Those two swallows are easily distinguished. The latter is the larger
bird; its upper parts are glossy steel-blue, except the rump, which
is of chestnut hue. The house-swallow has the rump glossy black, but
it displays a good deal of red about the head and neck.
In the cold weather the European swallow and two species of martin
visit the Nilgiris.
THE MOTACILLIDAE OR WAGTAIL FAMILY
In the winter several kinds of wagtail visit the Nilgiris, but only
one species remains all the year round. This is the beautiful pied
wagtail (_Motacilla maderaspatensis_), of which the charming song
must be familiar to all residents of Madras. On the Nilgiris the bird
is not sufficiently common to require more than passing notice.
The pipits are members of the wagtail family. They have not the lively
colouring of the wagtails, being clothed, like skylarks, in homely
brown, spotted or streaked with dark brown or black. They have the
wagtail trick of wagging the tail, but they perform the action in
a half-hearted manner.
The two pipits most often seen on the Nilgiris in summer are the
Nilgiri pipit (_Anthus nilgirensis_) and the Indian pipit (_A.
rufulus_). I know of no certain method of distinguishing these two
species without catching them and examining the hind toe. This is
much shorter in the former than in the latter species. The Nilgiri
pipit goes about singly or in pairs, and, although it frequents grassy
land, it usually keeps to cover and flies into a tree or bush when
alarmed. It is confined to the highest parts of the Nilgiris. The
Indian pipit affects open country and seems never to perch in trees.
THE ALAUDIDAE OR LARK FAMILY
The Indian skylark (_Alauda gulgula_) is common on the Nilgiris.
Wherever there is a grassy plain this species is found. Like the
English skylark, it rises to a great height in the air, and there
pours forth its fine song.
To the ordinary observer the Indian skylark is indistinguishable from
its European congener.
The other common lark of the Nilgiris is the Malabar crested lark
(_Galerita cristata_). This is in shape and colouring very like the
Indian skylark, but is easily distinguished by the pointed crest that
projects upwards and backwards from the hind part of the head. The
crested lark has a pretty song, which is often poured forth when the
bird is in the air. This species does not soar so high as the skylark.
Like the latter, it frequents open spaces.
THE NECTARINIDAE OR SUNBIRD FAMILY
A bird of the plains which is to be seen in every Nilgiri garden is
the beautiful little purple sunbird (_Arachnecthra asiatica_). He
flits about in the sunbeams, passing from flower to flower, extracting
with his long tubular tongue the nectar hidden away in their calyces.
He is especially addicted to gladioli. His head gets well dusted with
yellow pollen, which he carries like a bee from one bloom to another.
In the case of flowers with very deep calyces, he sometimes makes
short cut to the honey by piercing with his sharp curved bill a hole
in the side through which to insert the tongue. The cock purple sunbird
needs no description. His glistening metallic plumage compels
attention. He is usually accompanied by his spouse, who is earthy
brown above and pale yellow below.
The other sunbird commonly seen in hill-gardens is one appropriately
named the tiny sun bird or honeysucker (_Arachnecthra minima_), being
less than two-thirds the size of a sparrow. As is usual with sunbirds,
the cock is attired more gaily than the hen. He is a veritable
feathered exquisite. Dame Nature has lavished on his diminutive body
most of the hues to be found in her well-stocked paint-box. His
forehead and crown are metallic green. His back is red, crimson on
the shoulders. His lower plumage might be a model for the colouring
of a Neapolitan ice-cream; from the chin downwards it displays the
following order of colours: lilac, crimson, black, yellow. The hen
is brown above, with a dull red rump, and yellow below.
The purple-rumped sunbird (_Arachnecthra zeylonica_), which is very
abundant in and about Madras, does not ascend the Nilgiris above 3000
feet. Loten's sunbird (_A. lotenia_) ventures some 2500 feet higher,
and has been seen in the vicinity of Coonoor. This species is in
colouring almost indistinguishable from the purple sunbird, but its
long beak renders it unmistakable.
THE DICAEIDAE OR FLOWER-PECKER FAMILY
Flower-peckers, like sunbirds, are feathered exquisites. The habits
of the two families are very similar, save that flower-peckers dwell
among the foliage of trees, while sunbirds, after the manner of
butterflies, sip the nectar from flowers that grow near the ground.
Every hill-garden can boast of one or two flower-peckers. These are
among the smallest birds in existence. They are as restless as they
are diminutive. So restless are they that it is very difficult to
follow their movements through field-glasses, and they are so tiny
that without the aid of field-glasses it is difficult to see them
among the foliage in which they live, move, and have their being.
These elusive mites continually utter a sharp _chick-chick-chick_.
Two species are common on the Nilgiris.
They are known as the Nilgiri flower-pecker (_Dicaeum concolor_) and
Tickell's flower-pecker (_D. erythrorhynchus_). The latter is the
more numerous. Both are olive-green birds, paler below than above.
Tickell's species has the bill yellow: in the other the beak is
lavender blue.
THE PICIDAE OR WOODPECKER FAMILY
Woodpeckers are birds that feed exclusively on insects, which they
pick off the trunks of trees. They move about over the bark with great
address. Whether progressing upwards, downwards, or sideways, the
head is always pointed upwards.
For some reason or other there is a paucity of woodpeckers on the
Nilgiris. The Indian Empire can boast of no fewer than fifty-four
species; of these only six patronise the Nilgiris, and but two appear
to ascend higher than 5000 feet. The only woodpecker that I have
noticed in the vicinity of Coonoor is Tickell's golden-backed
woodpecker (_Chrysocolaptes gutticristatus_). I apologise for the
name; fortunately the bird never has to sign it in full. This
woodpecker is a magnificent bird, over a foot in length, being 1-1/2
inch longer than the golden-backed species found in Madras itself.
The cock has a crimson crest, the sides of the head and neck and the
under parts are white, relieved by black streaks that run
longitudinally. The back and wings appear golden olive in the shade,
and when the sun shines on them they become a beautiful coppery red.
The lower part of the back is crimson. The tail is black. The hen
differs from the cock in having the crest black. When these birds
fly, their wings make much noise. The species utters a high-pitched
but somewhat faint screaming note.
THE CAPITONIDAE OR BARBET FAMILY
Barbets are tree-haunting birds characterised by massive bills. They
have loud calls of two or three notes, which they repeat with much
persistence. They nestle in trees, themselves excavating the nest
cavity. The entrance to the nest is invariably marked by a neat round
hole, a little larger than a rupee, in the trunk or a branch of a
tree. The coppersmith is the most familiar member of the clan. It
does not occur on the Nilgiris, but a near relative is to be numbered
among the commonest birds of those hills, being found in every wood
and in almost every garden. This bird is fully as vociferous as the
coppersmith, but instead of crying, _tonk-tonk-tonk_, it suddenly
bursts into a kind of hoarse laugh, and then settles down to a steady
_kutur-kutur-kutur_, which resounds throughout the hillside. This
call is perhaps the most familiar sound heard in the hills. This
species is called the lesser green barbet (_Thereiceryx viridis_)
to distinguish it from the larger green barbet of the plains (_T.
zeylonicus_). It is a vivid green bird with a dull yellow patch, devoid
of feathers, round the eye. There are some brown streaks on the breast.
THE ALCEDINIDAE OR KINGFISHER FAMILY
The only kingfisher that occurs abundantly throughout the Nilgiris
is the common kingfisher (_Alcedo ispida_). This bird is not much
larger than a sparrow. The head and nape are blue with faint black
cross-bars. The back is glistening pale blue and the tail blue of
darker hue. The wings are greenish blue. The sides of the head are
gaily tinted with red, blue, black, and white. The lower parts are
rusty red. The bill is black and the feet coral red. The beautiful
white-breasted kingfisher (_Halcyon smyrnensis_)--the large blue
species with the chocolate-coloured head and white breast--occurs
on the Nilgiris at all elevations, but is not nearly so abundant as
its smaller relative.
THE CYPSELIDAE OR SWIFT FAMILY
Four species of swift are to be seen on the Nilgiris; two of them
are the fleetest birds in existence; these are the alpine swift
(_Cypselus melba_) and the brown-necked spine-tail (_Chaetura
indica_). The former progresses with ease at the rate of 100 miles
an hour: the latter can cover 125 miles, while the former is flying
100. If we poor human beings were possessed of the motive power of
swifts we should think nothing of flying to England on ten days' casual
leave. This may be possible a few years hence, thanks to the aeroplane;
but even then the swifts will have the advantage as regards cheapness
of transit. The lower parts of the alpine swift are white, while those
of the spine-tail are rich brown. Hence the two species may be
differentiated at a glance.
The edible-nest swiftlet (_Collocalia fuciphaga_) is the commonest
swift on the Nilgiris. It is only about half the size of the species
mentioned above, being less than 5 inches in length. In my opinion,
this bird is misnamed the edible-nest swiftlet, because a
considerable quantity of grass and feathers is worked into the nest,
and I, for my part, find neither grass nor feathers edible. But _chacun
a son gout_.
There is, however, an allied species--the little grey-rumped
swiftlet (_C. francicia_)--found in the Andaman Islands--of which
the nests are really good to eat. This species constructs its tiny
saucer-shaped nursery entirely of its own saliva.
April and May are the months in which to seek for the nests of the
Nilgiri swiftlet, and the insides of caves the places where a search
should be made.
The fourth swift of the Nilgiris, the crested swift (_Macropteryx
coronata_), is not sufficiently abundant to merit description in this
essay.
THE CAPRIMULGIDAE OR NIGHTJAR FAMILY
Nightjars, or goatsuckers, to give them their ancient and
time-honoured name, are birds that lie up during the day in shady
woods and issue forth at dusk on silent wing in order to hawk insects.
The most characteristic feature of a nightjar is its enormous
frog-like mouth; but it is not easy to make this out in the twilight
or darkness, so that the observer has to rely on other features in
order to recognise goatsuckers when he sees them on the wing, such
as their long tail and wings, their curious silent fluttering flight,
their dark plumage with white or buff in the wings and tail, their
crepuscular and nocturnal habits, and their large size. Nightjars
are as large as pigeons.
The common species of the Nilgiris is the jungle nightjar
(_Caprimulgus indicus_). For a couple of hours after nightfall, and
the same period before dawn in the spring, this bird utters its curious
call--a rapidly-repeated _cuck-chug-chuck-chuck_.
Horsfield's nightjar (_C. macrurus_) is perhaps not sufficiently
abundant on the Nilgiris to deserve mention in this essay. A bird
which after dark makes a noise like that produced by striking a plank
with a hammer can be none other than this species.
THE CUCULIDAE OR CUCKOO FAMILY
The koel (_Eudynamis honorata_) occurs on the Nilgiris and has been
shot at Ootacamund. It betrays its presence by its loud _ku-il_,
_ku-il_, _ku-il_. The common cuckoo of the hills is the hawk-cuckoo
(_Hierococcyx varius_) or brain-fever bird. Its crescendo
_brain-fever_, BRAIN-FEVER, BRAIN-FEVER prevents any person from
failing to notice it. It victimises laughing-thrushes and babblers.
It has a large cousin (_H. sparverioides_), which also occurs on the
Nilgiris, and which likewise screams _brain-fever_ at the top of its
voice. Both species are like sparrow-hawks in appearance. The
handsome pied crested cuckoo (_Coccystes jacobinus_), which cuckolds
the seven sisters, is a bird easy to identify. It has a conspicuous
crest. The upper plumage is glossy black, save for a white wing bar
and white tips to the tail feathers. The lower parts are white.
The common coucal or crow-pheasant (_Centropus sinensis_) is a cuckoo
that builds a nest and incubates its eggs. It is as big as a pheasant,
and is known as the Griff's pheasant because new arrivals in India
sometimes shoot it as a game bird. If naturalists could show that
this cuckoo derived any benefit from its resemblance to a pheasant,
I doubt not that they would hold it up as an example of protective
mimicry. It is a black bird with rich chestnut wings. The black tail
is nearly a foot long. The coucal is fairly abundant on the Nilgiris.
THE PSITTACIDAE OR PARROT FAMILY
The green parrots of the plains do not venture far up the slopes of
the hills. The only species likely to be seen on the Nilgiris at
elevations of 4000 feet and upwards is the blue-winged paroquet
(_Palaeornis columboides_). This is distinguishable from the green
parrots of the plains by having the head, neck, breast, and upper
back dove-coloured. It has none of the aggressive habits of its
brethren of the plains. It keeps mainly to dense forests. Jerdon
describes its cry as "mellow, subdued, and agreeable." It is the prima
donna of the Psittaci.
Another member of the parrot family found on the Nilgiris is the Indian
loriquet, or love-bird or pigmy parrot (_Loriculus vernalis_). This
is a short-tailed bird about the size of a sparrow. It is grass green
in colour, save for the red beak, a large crimson patch on the rump,
and a small blue patch on the throat. This species does not obtrude
itself on the observer. It is seen in cages more often than in a state
of nature. It sleeps with the head hanging down after the manner of
bats, hence Finn calls this pretty little bird the bat-parrot.
THE STRIGIDAE OR OWL FAMILY
Owls, like woodpeckers, do not patronise the Nilgiris very largely.
The only owl that commonly makes itself heard on those mountains is
the brown wood-owl (_Syrnium indrani_). This is the bird which perches
on the roof of the house at night and calls _to-whoo_.
Occasionally, especially round about Ootacamund, the grunting
_ur-ur-ur-ur_ of the brown fish-owl (_Ketupa zeylonensis_) disturbs
the silence of the night on the Nilgiris.
THE VULTURIDAE OR VULTURE FAMILY
Only four species of vulture occur on the hills of South India. One
of these is the smaller white scavenger vulture (_Neophron
ginginianus_), which is probably the ugliest bird in the world. Its
plumage is dirty white, except the tips of the wings, which are black.
The head is not bald, as is the case with most vultures; it is covered
with projecting feathers that form an exceedingly bedraggled crest.
The bill, the naked face, and the legs are yellow. This vulture is
popularly known as the shawk or Pharaoh's chicken. Young scavenger
vultures are sooty brown.
The other three vultures common on the Nilgiris are the Pondicherry
vulture (_Otogyps calvus_), the long-billed vulture (_Gyps indicus_),
and the white-backed vulture (_Pseudogyps bengalensis_). The first
is easily identified by means of its white waistcoat, a patch of white
on the thighs, and large red wattles that hang down like the ears
of a blood-hound. With the above exceptions the plumage is black.