It is said, that when women addict themselves to vice of any kind,
they carry it to extravagance, and become far worse than bad men. In
like manner, when the natural softness and amiability of the Hindoo
character yield to the temptations of luxury and dominion, the
individual grows into a tyrant as cruel and odious as any of those
depicted in history. This apparent discrepancy has given rise to many
speculative mistakes; but, in our opinion, it is as certain that the
mass of the Hindoos are gentle and kindly in their nature, as it is
that the mass of women are so. It is a curious thing to see the
gallant sepoy on a march, attended by his pet lambs, with necklaces of
ribbons and white shells, and ears and feet dyed of an orange colour.
But even wild creatures are at home with the kindly Hindoo. Fluttering
among the peasants threshing corn in a field, are flocks of wild
peacocks, gleaning their breakfast; and in the neighbourhood of a
village, a traveller can hardly distinguish between the tame and wild
ducks, partridges, and peacocks. 'There is a fine date-tree,' says a
recent writer, 'overhanging a kind of school, at the end of one of the
streets in the town of Jubbulpore, quite covered with the nests of the
baya bird; and they are seen every day, and all day, fluttering about
in scores, while the noisy children at their play fill the street
below, almost within arm's reach of them.'
Almost all the natives of India are fond of rearing pet birds; and
the pet is, more frequently than otherwise, a parrot, which is prized
for its conversation. The same taste prevailed, we are told, in the
fifteenth century, in the city of Paris, where talking-birds were hung
out almost at every window. The authority says, that this was attended
with rather an awkward result. 'Leading the public life they did, in
which they were exposed to every sort of society, the natural morality
of the birds was so far lost, that they had become fluent in every
term of reproach and indecency; and thunders of applause were elicited
among the crowd of passengers by the aptness of their repartees.' In
India, the taste is the same, but the habits different; a sketch of
which we furnish from our Old Indian. The carpenter, she tells us,
while planing the plank, which he holds between his toes, amuses
himself by talking to his parrot. The shoemaker, while binding his
slippers, or embroidering his rich velvet shoes, for the feet of some
sable beauty, pauses every now and then, to listen to the chattering
of his pet. The _guala_, on returning home, after disposing of his
butter or buttermilk, first takes up some bamboo twigs, one of which
is appropriated to each customer, and marking, by a notch with a
knife, the quantity disbursed to each, turns, as a matter of course,
to his favourite parrot, and either listens to the recital of his
previous lessons, or begins to teach him some fresh invocation to some
score of gods and goddesses. These men seldom condescend to teach
their favourites anything else; but should a lady be the owner, the
parrot's lessons are more varied, and more domestic in their
character. He is taught to call his mistress 'mother,' and himself
'Baba mittoo' (sweet child.) He is sometimes instructed to rail at her
neighbours, and sometimes to scold the children; and thus she lives in
sweet companionship with her bird, feeding him with steeped grain,
rice and milk, sugar-cane and Indian corn. Of the two last he is
exceedingly fond.
India abounds in a variety of parrots and perroquets, the names of
many of which I have forgotten; but the generic name is _Tota_. The
more common are the _kudjlah_, _teeah_, and _pahari_. These learn to
speak glibly, being generally taken out of the nest before they are
fully fledged. Crutches of various kinds are selected for the poor
captive, the most ingenious of which is made of a single joint of
bamboo, the two ends being formed into cups--the middle part being
cut, and then bent and arched over the fire; the perch being formed of
a straight piece of bamboo, which joins the two cups below. A hook
fastened to the top of the arch enables the owner to suspend it from
the thatched ceiling of his hut; and thus the parrot swings about,
listening to his master's pious ejaculations. At dusk, many of these
men may be seen parading through the bazaar, with their pets in their
hands, the latter loudly vociferating that Brahma is the greatest of
gods, or that Krishna and Radha were a loving couple; and so on. I
have often been amused at this mode of displaying religious zeal and
pious adoration.
Should you penetrate into the more crowded parts of the bazaar, you
might happen to see the taste of the bird-fancier displayed after a
different, but, I am happy to say, exceptional fashion. A shop may
sometimes be found having a square space enclosed with a railing, with
a divan in the middle, for the accommodation of the master and his
visitors. On this railing a number of birds are perched, many of them
little tame bulbuls; these are detained by a ligature, passing over
the shoulders of the bird, and tied under the breast, leaving his
wings and legs free. The bulbul, though not the bird known by that
name in Persia, is a pretty songster; but he is as desperate a fighter
as a gamecock. Those, therefore, who delight in cruel sports, bring
their little pets to these shops, where no doubt birds of the best
mettle are to be found; and on the result of a battle, money and
sweetmeats are lost and won, while many a poor little bird falls a
sacrifice to its master's depraved taste. The tiny _amadavad_, with
his glowing carmine neck, and distinct little pearly spots, may also
occasionally be seen doing battle; he fights desperately, though he
also warbles the sweetest of songs.
The affluent Hindoo Baboo or Mohammedan Nawab, among other luxuries,
keeps also his aviary. In these may be seen rare and expensive
parrots, brought from the Spice Islands. They delight also in _diyuls_
and _shamahs_. The latter is a smaller bird than our thrush, but
larger than a lark; his breast is orange, the rest of his plumage
black, and in song he is equal to our black-bird. The diyul also sings
sweetly; he is about the same size as the shamah, his plumage black,
with a white breast, and white tips to his wings. A well-trained bird
of either kind sells for about ten rupees, and twenty will be given
for a cuckoo from the Nepaul hills. A Baboo whom I knew had several
servants to look after his aviary, one of whom had to go daily in
search of white ants and ants' eggs for his insectivorous charge; for
the shamah and diyul are both insect-eaters.
Some of the _Minas_ (Gracula), of which there are several kinds in
India, articulate as distinctly, and are as imitative, as the parrots.
One of these birds was once brought as a present to my little girl.
The donor took his leave, assuring us that the bird was a great
speaker, and imitated a variety of sounds. This I found to be too
true, for I was awakened by him next morning at dawn of day. He had
evidently been bred in the neighbourhood of the hospital, and also
initiated into the mysteries of the parade. He coughed like a
consumptive patient, groaned like one in agony, and moaned as if in
the last extremity. Then he would call a 'halt!' and imitate the
jingling of the ramrods in the muskets so exactly, that I marvelled
how his little throat could go through so many modulations. I was soon
obliged to banish him to a distance from the sleeping-apartments, for
some of his utterances were anything but suggestive of soothing or
pleasurable sensations.
The hill mina, a mountaineer by birth, seldom lives long in
confinement in lowland districts. After having endeared himself to his
master and his family by his conversational powers and imitative
qualities, he is not unfrequently cut off suddenly by a fit, and
sometimes expires while feasting on his bread and milk or
pea-meal-paste, or perhaps when he has only a few minutes before been
calling out loudly his master's name or those of the children. The
hill mina is a handsome bird, a size larger than our black-bird; he is
of one uniform colour--a glossy black, like the smoothest Genoa
velvet, harmonising beautifully with the bright yellow circle of skin
round his eyes, his yellow beak and yellow legs.
The grackle or salik, which is a great favourite in the Isle of
France, has been correctly enough described in _Partington's
Cyclopædia_. It is a gregarious bird, greatly enlivening the aspect of
the grassy meadows at sunset, when his comrades assemble in large
flocks, and having picked up their last meal of grubs and
grasshoppers, resort for shelter to a neighbouring avenue, where they
roost for the night. The grackle is a tame and familiar bird, and will
sometimes build its nest close to the habitation of man. I have seen
one on the top of a pillar, under the shelter of a veranda; and
occasionally an earthen-pot is placed for its accommodation in the
fork of a neighbouring tree. Though their brood may be constantly
removed, they will return, year after year, to the same nest,
expressing, however, their discontent and distress when robbed, by
keeping up for some days a loud and querulous chattering.
Those who dwell on the banks of the Ganges may sometimes see, during
the rainy season, a large boat floating past, having a raised cabin,
like a Bengalee hut, constructed of mat and straw. From the
multiplicity of cages inside and outside, it may be gathered that here
are fresh supplies for the bird-fancier--captives from the hills of
Rajmahal and Moryheer. The constant fluttering among the inmates of
the crowded cages, and their mournful and discordant notes, indicate
that they are anything but a happy family--that they have been only
recently caught, and are not yet habituated to confinement. They are
soon, however, disposed of at the different stations or towns at which
the boat anchors, and become in due time the solitary and apparently
happy pets I have already described.
I need only add, that there is no lack of pretty little bird-cages in
the Far East, constructed very tastefully by the neat-handed natives,
and sold for two or three annas.