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MARCH And all the jungle laughed with nesting
songs,
ARNOLD. The Light of Asia. In March the climate of the plains of the
United Provinces
varies from place to place. In the western sub-Himalayan tracts, as in
the
Punjab, the weather still leaves little to be desired. The sun indeed
is
powerful; towards the end of the month the maximum shade temperature
exceeds 80°,
but the nights and early mornings are delightfully cool. In all the
remaining
parts of the United Provinces, except the extreme south, temperate
weather
prevails until nearly the end of the month. In the last days the
noonday heat
becomes so great that many persons close their bungalows for several
hours
daily to keep them cool, the outer temperature rising to ninety in the
shade.
At night, however, the temperature drops to 65°. In the extreme south of the Province
the hot weather sets in by the middle of March. The sky assumes a
brazen aspect
and, at midday, the country is swept by westerly winds which seem to
come from
a titanic blast furnace. The spring crops grow more golden day by
day. The mustard is
the first to ripen. The earlier-sown fields are harvested in March in
the
eastern and southern parts of the country. The spring cereals are cut
by hand
sickles, the grain is then husked by the tramping of cattle, and,
lastly, the
chaff is separated from the grain on the threshing floor, the hot
burning wind
often acting as a natural winnowing fan. The air is heavily scented with the
inconspicuous
inflorescences of the mangos (Mangifera
indica). The pipals (Ficus religiosa)
are shedding their leaves; the sheshams
(Dalbergia sissoo) are assuming their
emerald spring foliage. The garden, the jungle and the forest are
beautified by the
gorgeous reds of the flowers of the silk-cotton tree (Bombax
malabarica), the Indian coral tree (Erythrina indica)
and the flame-of-the-forest (Butea frondosa). The
sub-Himalayan forests become yellow-tinted
owing to the fading of the leaves of the sal
(Shorea robusta), many of which are
shed in March. The sal, however, is
never entirely leafless; the young foliage appears as the old drops
off; while
this change is taking place the minute pale yellow flowers open out. The familiar yellow wasps, which have been
hibernating
during the cold weather, emerge from their hiding-places and begin to
construct
their umbrella-shaped nests or combs, which look as if they were made
of
rice-paper. March is a month of great activity for the
birds. Those that
constituted the avian chorus of February continue to sing, and to their
voices
are now added those of many other minstrels. Chief of these is the pied
singer
of Ind—the
magpie-robin or dhayal—whose
song is as beautiful as that of the English robin at his best. From the
housetops the brown rock-chat begins to pour forth his exceedingly
sweet lay.
The Indian robin is in full song. The little golden ioras, hidden away
amid
dense foliage, utter their many joyful sounds. The brain-fever bird
grows more
vociferous day by day. The crow-pheasants, which have been
comparatively silent
during the colder months of the year, now begin to utter their low
sonorous whoot, whoot, whoot,
which is
heard chiefly at dawn. Everywhere the birds are joyful and noisy;
nowhere more so
than at the silk-cotton and the coral trees. These, although
botanically very
different, display many features in common. They begin to lose their
leaves
soon after the monsoon is over, and are leafless by the end of the
winter. In
the early spring, while the tree is still devoid of foliage, huge
scarlet,
crimson or yellow flowers emerge from every branch. Each flower is
plentifully
supplied with honey; it is a flowing bowl of which all are invited to
partake,
and hundreds of thousands of birds accept the invitation with right
good-will.
The scene at each of these trees, when in full flower, baffles
description. Scores of birds forgather there—rosy
starlings, mynas, babblers, bulbuls, king-crows, tree-pies, green
parrots,
sunbirds and crows. These all drink riotously and revel so loudly that
the
sound may be heard at a distance of half a mile or more. Even before
the sun
has risen and begun to dispel the pleasant coolness of the night the
drinking
begins. It continues throughout the hours of daylight. Towards midday,
when the
west wind blows very hot, it flags somewhat, but even when the
temperature is
nearer 100° than 90° some avian brawlers are present. As soon
as the first touch
of the afternoon coolness is felt the clamour acquires fresh vigour and
does
not cease until the sun has set in a dusty haze, and the spotted owlets
have
emerged and begun to cackle and call as is their wont. These last are by no means the only birds
that hold concert
parties during the hours of darkness. In open country the jungle owlet
and the
dusky-horned owl call at intervals, and the Indian nightjar (Caprimulgus
asiaticus) imitates the
sound of a stone skimming over ice. In the forest tracts Franklin's and
Horsfield's nightjars make the welkin ring. Scarce has the sun
disappeared
below the horizon when the former issues forth and utters its harsh tweet. Horsfield's nightjar emerges a
few minutes later, and, for some hours after dusk and for several
before dawn,
it utters incessantly its loud monotonous chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, which has been aptly compared to
the sound made by striking a plank sharply with a hammer. March is the month in which the majority
of the shrikes or
butcher-birds go a-courting. There is no false modesty about
butcher-birds.
They are not ashamed to introduce their unmelodious calls into the
avian
chorus. But they are mild offenders in comparison with the king-crows (Dicrurus ater) and the rollers (Coracias
indica). The little black king-crows are at all
seasons noisy and
vivacious: from the end of February until the rains have set in they
are
positively uproarious. Two or three of them love to sit on a telegraph
wire, or
a bare branch of a tree, and hold a concert. The first performer draws
itself
up to its full height and then gives vent to harsh cries. Before it has
had
time to deliver itself of all it has to sing, an impatient neighbour
joins in
and tries to shout it down. The concert may last for half an hour or
longer;
the scene is shifted from time to time as the participants become too
excited
to sit still. The king-crows so engaged appear to be selecting their
mates;
nevertheless nest-construction does not begin before the end of April. Some human beings may fail to notice the
courtship of the
king-crow, but none can be so deaf and blind as to miss the love-making
of the
gorgeous roller or blue jay. Has not everyone marvelled at the hoarse
cries and
rasping screams which emanate from these birds as they fling themselves
into
the air and ascend and descend as though they were being tossed about
by unseen
hands? Their wonderful aerial performances go on
continually in the
hours of daylight throughout the months of March and April; at this
season the
birds, beautiful although they be, are a veritable nuisance, and most
people
gratefully welcome the comparative quiet that supervenes after the eggs
have
been laid. The madness of the March hare is mild compared with that of
the
March roller. It is difficult to realise that the harsh and
angry-sounding
cries of these birds denote, not rage, but joy. The great exodus of the winter visitors
from the plains of
India begins in March. It continues until mid-May, by which time the
last of
the migratory birds will have reached its distant breeding ground. This exodus is usually preceded by the
gathering into flocks
of the rose-coloured starlings and the corn-buntings. Large noisy
congregations
of these birds are a striking feature of February in Bombay, of March
in the
United Provinces, and of April in the Punjab. Rose-coloured starlings spend most of
their lives in the
plains of India, going to Asia Minor for a few months each summer for
nesting
purposes. In the autumn they spread themselves over the greater part of
Hindustan, most abundantly in the Deccan. In the third or fourth week of February
the rosy starlings
of Bombay begin to form flocks. These make merry among the flowers of
the coral
tree, which appear first in South India, and last in the Punjab. The
noisy
flocks journey northwards in a leisurely manner, timing their arrival
at each
place simultaneously with the flowering of the coral trees. They feed
on the
nectar provided by these flowers and those of the silk-cotton tree.
They also
take toll of the ripening corn and of the mulberries which are now in
season.
Thus the rosy starlings reach Allahabad about the second week in March,
and
Lahore some fifteen days later. The head, neck, breast, wings and tail of
the rosy starling
are glossy black, and the remainder of the plumage is pale salmon in
the hen
and the young cock, and faint rose-colour in the adult cock. Rosy starlings feed chiefly in the morning
and the late
afternoon. During the hottest part of the day they perch in trees and
hold a
concert, if such a term may be applied to a torrent of sibilant twitter. Buntings, like rosy starlings, are social
birds, and are
very destructive to grain crops. As these last are harvested the feeding
area of the buntings
becomes restricted, so that eventually every patch of standing crop is
alive
with buntings. The spring cereals ripen in the south earlier than in
northern
India, so that the cheerful buntings are able to perform their
migratory
journey by easy stages and find abundant food all along the route. There are two species of corn-bunting—the
red-headed (Emberiza luteola) and the
black-headed (E. melanocephala). In
both the lower plumage is bright yellow. Among the earliest of the birds to forsake
the plains of
Hindustan are the grey-lag goose and the pintail duck. These leave
Bengal in
February, but tarry longer in the cooler parts of the country. Of the
other
migratory species many individuals depart in March, but the greater
number
remain on into April, when they are caught up in the great migratory
wave that
surges over the country. The destination of the majority of these
migrants is
Tibet or Siberia, but a few are satisfied with the cool slopes of the
Himalayas
as a summer resort in which to busy themselves with the sweet cares of
nesting.
Examples of these more local migrants are the grey-headed and the
verditer
flycatchers, the Indian bush-chat and, to some extent, the paradise
flycatcher
and the Indian oriole. The case of the oriole is interesting. All the
Indian
orioles (Oriolus kundoo) disappear
from the Punjab and the United Provinces in winter. In the former
province no
other oriole replaces O. kundoo, but
in the United Provinces the black-headed oriole (O.
melanocephalus) comes to take the place of the other from
October to March. When this last returns to the United Provinces in
March the
greater number of melanocephalus
individuals go east, a few only remaining in the sub-Himalayan tracts
of the
province. The Indian oriole is not the only species
which finds the
climate of the United Provinces too severe for it in winter; the koel
and the
paradise flycatcher likewise desert us in the coldest months. From the
less
temperate Punjab several species migrate in October which manage to
maintain
themselves in the United Provinces throughout the year: these are the
purple
sunbird, the little green and the blue-tailed bee-eaters, and the
yellow-throated sparrow. The return of these and the other migrant
species to
the Punjab in March is as marked a phenomenon as is the arrival of the
swallow
and the cuckoo in England in spring. The behaviour of the king-crows shows the
marked effect a
comparatively small difference of temperature may exert on the habits
of some
birds. In the United Provinces the king-crows appear to be as numerous
in
winter as in summer: in the Punjab they are very plentiful in summer,
but rare
in the cold weather; while not a single king-crow winters in the N.-W.
Frontier
Province. Of the birds of which the nests were
described in January
and February the Pallas's fishing eagles have sent their nestlings into
the
world to fend for themselves. In the case of the following birds the
breeding season is
fast drawing to its close:—the dusky horned-owl, the white-backed
vulture, Bonelli's
eagle, the tawny eagle, the brown fish-owl, the rock horned-owl, the
raven, the
amadavat and the white-throated munia. The nesting season is at its height for
all the other birds
of which the nests have been described, namely, most species of dove,
the
jungle crow, the red-headed merlin, the purple sunbird, the nuthatch,
the
fantail flycatcher, the finch-lark, the pied woodpecker, the
coppersmith, the
alexandrine and the rose-ringed paroquet, the white-eyed buzzard, the
collared
scops and the mottled wood-owl, the kite, the black vulture and the
pied
kingfisher. The sand-martins breed from October to
May, consequently
their nests, containing eggs or young, are frequently taken in March.
Mention
was made in January and February of the Indian cliff-swallow (Hirundo fluvicola). This species is not
found in the eastern districts of the United Provinces, but it is the
common
swallow of the western districts. The head is dull chestnut. The back
and
shoulders are glistening steel-blue. The remainder of the upper plumage
is
brown. The lower parts are white with brown streaks, which are most
apparent on
the throat and upper breast. These swallows normally nest at two
seasons of the
year—from
February till April and in July or August. They breed in colonies. The mud nests are
spherical or oval
with an entrance tube from two to six inches long. The nests are
invariably
attached to a cliff or building, and, although isolated ones are built
sometimes, they usually occur in clusters, as many as two hundred have
been
counted in one cluster. In such a case a section cut parallel to the
surface to
which the nests are attached looks like that of a huge honeycomb
composed of
cells four inches in diameter—cells of a kind that one could expect to
be built by bees that
had partaken of Mr. H. G. Wells' "food of the gods." The beautiful white-breasted kingfisher, (Halcyon smyrnensis) is now busy at its
nest. This species spends most of its life in
shady gardens; it
feeds on insects in preference to fish. It does not invariably select a
river
bank in which to nest, it is quite content with a sand quarry, a bank,
or the
shaft of a kachcha well. The nest
consists of a passage, some two feet in length and three inches in
diameter,
leading to a larger chamber in which from four to seven eggs are laid. A pair of white-breasted kingfishers at
work during the
early stages of nest construction affords an interesting spectacle. Not
being
able to obtain a foothold on the almost perpendicular surface of the
bank, the
birds literally charge this in turn with fixed beak. By a succession of
such
attacks at one spot a hole of an appreciable size is soon formed in the
soft
sand. Then the birds are able to obtain a foothold and to excavate with
the
bill, while clinging to the edge of the hole. Every now and then they
indulge
in a short respite from their labours. While thus resting one of the
pair will
sometimes spread its wings for an instant and display the white patch;
then it
will close them and make a neat bow, as if to say "Is not that nice?"
Its companion may remain motionless and unresponsive, or may return the
compliment. In the first days of March the bulbuls
begin to breed. In
1912 the writer saw a pair of bulbuls (Otocompsa
emeria) building a nest on the 3rd March. By the 10th the structure
was
complete and held the full clutch of three eggs. On that date a second
nest was
found containing three eggs. In 1913 the writer first saw a bulbul's
nest on the 5th
March. This belonged to Molpastes
bengalensis and contained two eggs. On the following day the full
clutch of
three was in the nest. The nesting season for these birds terminates in
the
rains. The common bulbuls of the plains belong to
two genera—Molpastes
and Otocompsa. The former is split up
into a number of local species which display only small differences in
appearance and interbreed freely at the places where they meet. They
are known
as the Madras, the Bengal, the Punjab, etc., red-vented bulbul. They
are
somewhat larger than sparrows. The head, which bears a short crest, and
the
face are black; the rest of the body, except a patch of bright red
under the
tail, is brown, each feather having a pale margin. In Otocompsa the
crest is long and rises to a sharp point which curves forward a little
over the
beak. The breast is white, set off by a black gorget. There is the
usual red
patch under the tail and a patch of the same hue on each side of the
face,
whence the English name for the bird—the red-whiskered bulbul. Molpastes and Otocompsa
have similar habits. They are feckless little birds that build
cup-shaped nests
in all manner of queer and exposed situations. Those that live near the
habitations of Europeans nestle in low bushes in the garden, or in pot
plants
in the verandah. Small crotons are often selected, preferably those
that do not
bear a score of leaves. The sitting bulbul does not appear to mind the
daily
shower-bath it receives when the mali
waters the plant. Sometimes as many as three or four pairs of bulbuls
attempt
to rear up families in one verandah. The word "attempt" is used
advisedly, because, owing to the exposed situations in which nests are
built,
large numbers of eggs and young bulbuls are destroyed by boys, cats,
snakes and
other predaceous creatures. The average bulbul loses six broods for
every one it
succeeds in rearing. The eggs are pink with reddish markings. March is the month in which to look for
the nest of the
Indian wren-warbler (Prinia inornata). Inornata
is a very appropriate
specific name for this tiny earth-brown bird, which is devoid of all
kind of
ornamentation. Its voice is as homely as its appearance—a
harsh but plaintive twee, twee, twee. It weaves a nest which looks like a ragged loofah
with a hole
in the side. The nest is usually placed low down in a bush or in long
grass.
Sometimes it is attached to two or more stalks of corn. In such cases
the corn
is often cut before the young birds have had time to leave the nest,
and then
the brood perishes. This species brings up a second family in the rainy
season. The barn-owls (Strix
flammea) are now breeding. They lay their eggs in cavities in
trees,
buildings or walls. In northern India the nesting season lasts from
February to
June. Eggs are most likely to be found in the United Provinces during
the
present month. The various species of babblers or seven
sisters begin to
nest in March. Unlike bulbuls these birds are careful to conceal the
nest. This
is a slenderly-built, somewhat untidy cup, placed in a bush or tree.
The eggs
are a beautiful rich blue, without any markings. The hawk-cuckoo, or brain-fever bird (Hierococcyx varius), to which allusion has already been
made,
deposits its eggs in the nests of various species of babblers. The eggs
of this
cuckoo are blue, but are distinguishable from those of the babbler by
their
larger size. It may be noted, in passing, that this cuckoo does not
extend far
into the Punjab. As stated above, most of the shrikes go
a-courting in March.
Nest-building follows hard on courtship. In this month and in April
most of the
shrikes lay their eggs, but nests containing eggs or young are to be
seen in
May, June, July and August. Shrikes are birds of prey in miniature.
Although
not much larger than sparrows they are as fierce as falcons. Their habit is to seize the quarry on the
ground, after
having pounced upon it from a bush or tree. Grasshoppers constitute
their usual
food, but they are not afraid to tackle mice or small birds. The largest shrike is the grey species (Lanius lahtora). This is clothed mainly in grey; however,
it has a
broad black band running through the eye—the escutcheon of the butcher-bird
clan. It begins nesting before the other species, and its eggs are
often taken
in February. The other common species are the
bay-backed (L. vittatus) and the rufous-backed
shrike (L. erythronotus). These are
smaller birds and have the back red. The former is distinguishable from
the
latter by having in the wings and tail much white, which is very
conspicuous
during flight. The nest of each species is a massive cup,
composed of
twigs, thorns, grasses, feathers, and, usually, some pieces of rag;
these last
often hang down in a most untidy manner. The nest is, as a rule, placed
in a
babool or other thorny tree, close up against the trunk. Three allies of the shrikes are likewise
busy with their
nests at this season. These are the wood-shrike, the minivet and the
cuckoo-shrike. The wood-shrike (Tephrodornis
pondicerianus) is an ashy-brown bird of the size of a sparrow with
a broad
white eyebrow. It frequently emits a characteristic soft, melancholy,
whistling
note, which Eha describes as "Be thee cheery." How impracticable are
all efforts to "chain by syllables airy sounds"! The cup-like nest of
this species is always carefully concealed in a tree. Minivets are aerial exquisites. In
descriptions of them
superlative follows upon superlative. The cocks of most species are
arrayed in
scarlet and black; the hens are not a whit less brilliantly attired in
yellow
and sable. One species lives entirely in the plains, others visit them
in the
cold weather; the majority are permanent residents of the hills. The
solitary
denizen of the plains—the little minivet (Pericrocotus
peregrinus)—is the least resplendent of them all. Its
prevailing hue is
slaty grey, but the cock has a red breast and some red on the back. The
nest is
a cup so small as either to be invisible from below or to present the
appearance of a knot or thickening in the branch on which it is placed.
Sometimes two broods are reared in the course of the year—one
in March, April or May and the other during the rainy season. The cuckoo-shrike (Grauculus
macii) is not nearly related to the cuckoo, nor has it the
parasitic habits
of the latter. Its grey plumage is barred like that of the common
cuckoo, hence
the adjective. The cuckoo-shrike is nearly as big as a dove. It utters
constantly
a curious harsh call. It keeps much to the higher branches of trees in
which it
conceals, with great care, its saucer-like nest. As we have seen, some coppersmiths and
pied woodpeckers
began nesting operations in February, but the great majority do not lay
eggs
until March. The green barbet (Thereoceryx
zeylonicus) and the golden-backed woodpecker (Brachypternus
aurantius) are now busy excavating their nests, which
are so similar to those of their respective cousins—the
coppersmith and the pied woodpecker—as to require no description. It is not
necessary to state that the harsh laugh, followed by the kutur,
kutur, kuturuk, of the green
barbet and the
eternal tonk, tonk, tonk
of the
coppersmith are now more vehement than ever, and will continue with
unabated
vigour until the rains have fairly set in. By the end of the month many of the noisy
rollers have found
holes in decayed trees in which the hens can lay their eggs. The
vociferous
nightjars likewise have laid upon the bare ground their salmon-pink
eggs with
strawberry-coloured markings. The noisy spotted owlets (Athene
brama) and the rose-ringed paroquets (Palaeornis
torquatus) are already the happy possessors of clutches
of white eggs hidden away in cavities of decayed trees or buildings. The swifts (Cypselus
indicus) also are busy with their nests. These are saucer-shaped
structures, composed of feathers, straw and other materials made to
adhere
together, and to the beam or stone to which the nest is attached, by
the
glutinous saliva of the swifts. Deserted buildings, outhouses and
verandahs of
bungalows are the usual nesting sites of these birds. At this season
swifts are
very noisy. Throughout the day and at frequent intervals during the
night they
emit loud shivering screams. At sunset they hold high carnival,
playing, at
breakneck speed and to the accompaniment of much screaming, a game of
"follow the man from Cook's." The swifts are not the only birds engaged
in rearing up
young in our verandahs. Sparrows and doves are so employed, as are the
wire-tailed
swallows (Hirundo smithii). These
last are steel-blue birds with red heads and white under plumage. They
derive
the name "wire-tailed" from the fact that the thin shafts of the
outer pair of tail feathers are prolonged five inches beyond the others
and
look like wires. Wire-tailed swallows occasionally build in verandahs,
but they
prefer to attach their saucer-shaped mud nests to the arches of bridges
and
culverts. With a nest in such a situation the parent
birds are not
obliged to go far for the mud with which the nest is made, or for the
insects,
caught over the surface of water, on which the offspring are fed. The nesting season of wire-tailed swallows
is a long one.
According to Hume these beautiful birds breed chiefly in February and
March and
again in July, August and September. However, he states that he has
seen eggs
as early as January and as late as November. In the Himalayas he has
obtained
the eggs in April, May and June. The present writer's experience does not
agree with that of
Hume. In Lahore, Saharanpur and Pilibhit, May and June are the months
in which
most nests of this species are likely to be seen. The writer has found
nests
with eggs or young on the following dates in the above-mentioned
places: May
13th, 15th, 16th, 17th; June 6th and 28th. The nest of June 28th was attached to a
rafter of the front
verandah of a bungalow at Lahore. The owner of the house stated that
the
swallows in question had already reared one brood that year, and that
the birds
in question had nested in his verandah for some years. There is no
doubt that
some wire-tailed swallows bring up two broods. Such would seem to
breed, as
Hume says, in February and March and again in July and August. But, as
many
nests containing eggs are found in May, some individuals appear to have
one
brood only, which hatches out in May or June. Those useful but ugly fowls, the white
scavenger vultures (Neophron ginginianus), depart from
the
ways of their brethren in that they nidificate in March and April
instead of in
January and February. The nest is an evil-smelling pile of sticks, rags
and
rubbish. It is placed on some building or in a tree. The handsome brahminy kites (Haliastur
indicus), attired in chestnut and white, are now busily
occupied, either in seeking for sites or in actually building their
nests,
which resemble those of the common kite. In the open plains the pipits (Anthus
rufulus) and the crested larks (Galerita cristata)
are keeping the nesting finch-larks company. All three species build the same kind of
nest—a
cup of grass or fibres (often a deep cup in the case of the crested
lark)
placed on the ground in a hole or a depression, or protected by a
tussock of
grass or a small bush. On the churs and sand islets in the large
Indian rivers the
terns are busy with their eggs, which are deposited on the bare sand.
They
breed in colonies. On the same islet are to be seen the eggs of the
Indian
river tern, the black-bellied tern, the swallow-plover, the spur-winged
plover
and the Indian skimmer. The eggs of all the above species are of
similar appearance,
the ground colour being greenish, or buff, or the hue of stone or
cream, with
reddish or brownish blotches. Three is the full complement of eggs. The
bare
white glittering sands on which these eggs are deposited are often at
noon so
hot as to be painful to touch; accordingly during the daytime there is
no need
for the birds to sit on the eggs in order to keep them warm. Indeed, it
has
always been a mystery to the writer why terns' eggs laid in March in
northern
India do not get cooked. Mr. A. J. Currie recently came across some
eggs of the
black-bellied tern that had had water sprinkled over them. He is of
opinion
that the incubating birds treat the eggs thus in order to prevent their
getting
sun-baked. This theory should be borne in mind by those who visit
sandbanks in
March. Whether it be true or not, there is certainly no need for the
adult
birds to keep the eggs warm in the daytime, and they spend much of
their time
in wheeling gracefully overhead or in sleeping on the sand. By
nightfall all
the eggs are covered by parent birds, which are said to sit so closely
that it
is possible to catch them by means of a butterfly net. The terns,
although they
do not sit much on their eggs during the day, ever keep a close watch
on them,
so that, when a human being lands on a nest-laden sandbank, the parent
birds
fly round his head, uttering loud screams. The swallow-plovers go farther. They
become so excited that
they flutter about on the sand, with dragging wings and limping legs,
as if
badly wounded. Sometimes they perform somersaults in their intense
excitement.
The nearer the intruder approaches their eggs the more vigorous do
their antics
become. Every lover of the winged folk should make
a point of
visiting, late in March or early in April, an islet on which these
birds nest.
He will find much to interest him there. In April many of the young
birds will
be hatched out. A baby tern is an amusing object. It is covered with
soft
sand-coloured down. When a human being approaches it crouches on the
sand, half
burying its head in its shoulders, and remains thus perfectly
motionless. If
picked up it usually remains limply in the hand, so that, but for its
warmth,
it might be deemed lifeless. After it has been set down again on the
sand, it
will remain motionless until the intruder's back is turned, when it
will run to
the water as fast as its little legs can carry it. It swims as easily
as a
duck. Needless to state, the parent birds make a great noise while
their young
are being handled. Birds decline to be fettered by the
calendar. Many of the
species which do not ordinarily nest until April or May occasionally
begin
operations in March, hence nests of the following species, which are
dealt with
next month, may occur in the present one:—the tree-pie, tailor-bird, common myna,
bank-myna, brown rock-chat, brown-backed robin, pied wagtail,
red-winged
bush-lark, shikra, red-wattled lapwing, yellow-throated sparrow,
bee-eater,
blue rock-pigeon, green pigeon and grey partridge. March the 15th marks the beginning of the
close season for
game birds in all the reserved forests of Northern India. This is none
too
soon, as some individuals begin breeding at the end of the month. |