_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ANIMALS OF NO IMPORTANCETHE INDIAN CROW: HIS BOOKBOMBAY DUCKSBIRDS OF THE PLAINSINDIAN BIRDSJUNGLE FOLKGLIMPSES OF INDIAN BIRDSBIRDS OF THE INDIAN HILLS

_IN COLLABORATION WITH FRANK FINN_THE MAKING OF SPECIES

A BIRD CALENDAR FOR NORTHERN INDIA

BY DOUGLAS DEWAR

LONDON: W. THACKER & CO. , CREED LANE, E. C. CALCUTTA AND SIMLA: THACKER, SPINK & CO. 1916

WM. BRENDON AND SON, LTD. , PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND. 

I am indebted to the editor of _The Pioneer_ for permission torepublish the sketches that form this calendar, and to Mr. A. J. Currie for placing at my disposal his unpublished notes on the birdsof the Punjab. 

Full descriptions of all the Indian birds of which the doings arechronicled in this calendar are to be found in the four volumes of the_Fauna of British India_ devoted to birds; popular descriptions of themajority are given in my _Indian Birds_. 

D. D. 

HARROW, _January 1916_. 

CONTENTS PAGEJANUARY . . . . . . 1FEBRUARY . . . . . 18MARCH . . . . . . . 33APRIL . . . . . . . 61MAY . . . . . . . . 79JUNE . . . . . . . 103JULY . . . . . . . 116AUGUST . . . . . . 136SEPTEMBER . . . . . 152OCTOBER . . . . . . 165NOVEMBER . . . . . 178DECEMBER . . . . . 189GLOSSARY . . . . . 199INDEX . . . . . . . 201

JANUARY

 Up--let us to the fields away, And breathe the fresh and balmy air. MARY HOWITT. 

Take nine-and-twenty sunny, bracing English May days, steal from Marchas many still, starry nights, to these add two rainy mornings andevenings, and the product will resemble a typical Indian January. Thisis the coolest month in the year, a month when the climate isinvigorating and the sunshine temperate. But even in January the sun'srays have sufficient power to cause the thermometer to register 70degrees in the shade at noon, save on an occasional cloudy day. 

Sunset is marked by a sudden fall of temperature. The village smokethen hangs a few feet above the earth like a blue-grey diaphanouscloud. 

The cold increases throughout the hours of darkness. In the Punjabhoar-frosts form daily; and in the milder United Provinces thetemperature often falls sufficiently to allow of the formation of thinsheets of ice. Towards dawn mists collect which are not disperseduntil the sun has shone upon them for several hours. The vulturesawait the dissipation of these vapours before they ascend to the upperair, there to soar on outstretched wings and scan the earth for food. 

On New Year's Day the wheat, the barley, the gram, and the otherSpring crops are well above the ground, and, ere January has givenplace to February, the emerald shoots of the corn attain a height offully sixteen inches. On these the geese levy toll. 

Light showers usually fall in January. These are very welcome to theagriculturalist because they impart vigour to the young crops. In theseasons when the earth is not blessed with the refreshing winter rainmen and oxen are kept busy irrigating the fields. The cutting and thepressing of the sugar-cane employ thousands of husbandmen and theircattle. In almost every village little sugar-cane presses are beingworked by oxen from sunrise to sunset. At night-time the country-sideis illumined by the flames of the _megas_ burned by the rusticsugar-boilers. 

January is the month in which the avian population attains itsmaximum. Geese, ducks, teal, pelicans, cormorants, snake-birds andospreys abound in the rivers and _jhils_; the marshes and swamps arethe resort of millions of snipe and other waders; the fields andgroves swarm with flycatchers, chats, starlings, warblers, finches, birds of prey and the other migrants which in winter visit the plainsfrom the Himalayas and the country beyond. 

The bracing climate of the Punjab attracts some cold-loving speciesfor which the milder United Provinces have no charms. Conspicuousamong these are rooks, ravens and jackdaws. On the other hand, frostsdrive away from the Land of the Five Rivers certain of the featheredfolk which do not leave the United Provinces or Bengal: to wit, thepurple sunbird, the bee-eater and, to a large extent, the king-crow. 

The activity of the feathered folk is not at its height in January. Birds are warm-blooded creatures and they love not the cold. Comparatively few of them are in song, and still fewer nest, at thisseason. 

Song and sound are expressions of energy. Birds have more vitality, more life in them than has any other class of organism. They are, therefore, the most noisy of beings. 

Many of the calls of birds are purposeful, being used to expresspleasure or anger, or to apprise members of a flock of one another'spresence. Others appear to serve no useful end. These are simply theoutpourings of superfluous energy, the expressions of the supremehappiness that perfect health engenders. Since the vigour of birds isgreatest at the nesting season, it follows that that is the time whenthey are most vociferous. Some birds sing only at the breeding season, while others emit their cries at all times. Hence the avian choir inIndia, as in all other countries, is composed of two sets ofvocalists--those who perform throughout the year, "the musicians ofall times and places, " and those who join the chorus only for a fewweeks or months. The calls of the former class go far to create forIndia its characteristic atmosphere. To enumerate all such bird callswould be wearisome. For the purposes of this calendar it is necessaryto describe only the common daily cries--the sounds that at all timesand all seasons form the basis of the avian chorus. 

From early dawn till nightfall the welkin rings with the harsh caw ofthe house-crow, the deeper note of the black crow or corby, thetinkling music of the bulbuls, the cheery _keky_, _keky_, _kek_, _kek_ ... _chur_, _chur_, _kok_, _kok_, _kok_ of the myna, themonotonous _cuckoo-coo-coo_ of the spotted dove (_Turtur suratensis_), the soft subdued _cuk-cuk-coo-coo-coo_ of the little brown dove (_T. Cambayensis_), the mechanical _ku-ku--ku_ of the ring-dove (_T. Risorius_), the loud penetrating shrieks of the green parrot, thetrumpet-like calls of the saras crane, the high-pitched _did-he-do-it_of the red-wattled lapwing, the wailing trill _chee-hee-hee-hee__hee--hee_ of the kite, the hard grating notes and the metallic_coch-lee_, _coch-lee_ of the tree-pie; the sharp _towee_, _towee_, _towee_ of the tailor-bird, the soft melodious cheeping calls of theflocks of little white-eyes, the _chit_, _chit_, _chitter_ of thesparrow, the screaming cries of the golden-backed woodpecker, thescreams and the trills of the white-breasted kingfisher, the curiousharsh clamour of the cuckoo-shrike, and, last but by no means least, the sweet and cheerful whistling refrain of the fan-tail flycatcher, which at frequent intervals emanates from a tree in the garden or themango tope. Nor is the bird choir altogether hushed during the hoursof darkness. Throughout the year, more especially on moonlit nights, the shrieking _kucha_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_ ofthe little spotted owlet disturbs the silences of the moon. Few nightspass on which the dusky horned owl fails to utter his gruntinghoot, or the jungle owlet to emit his curious but not unpleasant_turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _tukatu_, _chatuckatuckatuck_. 

The above are the commonest of the bird calls heard throughout theyear. They form the basis of the avian melody in India. This melody isreinforced from time to time by the songs of those birds that may betermed the seasonal choristers. It is the presence or absence of thevoices of these latter which imparts distinctive features to theminstrelsy of every month of the year. 

In January the sprightly little metallic purple sunbird pours forth, from almost every tree or bush, his powerful song, which, were it alittle less sharp, might easily be mistaken for that of a canary. 

From every mango tope emanates a loud "Think of me ... Never to be. "This is the call of the grey-headed flycatcher (_Culicicapaceylonensis_), a bird that visits the plains of northern India everywinter. In summer it retires to the Himalayas for nesting purposes. Still more melodious is the call of the wood-shrike, which isfrequently heard at this season, and indeed during the greater part ofthe year. 

Every now and again the green barbet emits his curious chucklinglaugh, followed by a monotonous _kutur_, _kutur_, _kuturuk_. At rareintervals his cousin, the coppersmith, utters a soft _wow_ and therebyreminds us that he is in the land of the living. These two species, more especially the latter, seem to dislike the cold weather. Theyrevel in the heat; it is when the thermometer stands at something over100 degrees in the shade that they feel like giants refreshed, andrepeat their loud calls with wearying insistence throughout the hoursof daylight. 

The nuthatches begin to tune up in January. They sing with more cheerthan harmony, their love-song being a sharp penetrating_tee-tee-tee-tee-tee_. 

The hoopoe reminds us of his presence by an occasional soft_uk-uk-uk_. His breeding season, like that of the nuthatch, is aboutto begin. 

The magpie-robin or _dhayal_, who for months past has uttered nosound, save a scolding note when occasion demanded, now begins to makemelody. His January song, however, is harsh and crude, and not such asto lead one to expect the rich deep-toned music that will compeladmiration in April, May and June. 

Towards the end of the month the fluty call of the koel, anotherhot-weather chorister, may be heard in the eastern portions ofnorthern India. 

Most of the cock sunbirds cast off their workaday plumage and assumedtheir splendid metallic purple wedding garment in November andDecember, a few, however, do not attain their full glory untilJanuary. By the end of the month it is difficult to find a cock thatis not bravely attired from head to tail in iridescent purple. 

Comparatively few birds build their nests in January. Needless tostate, doves' nests containing eggs may be found at this season as atall other seasons. It is no exaggeration to assert that some pairs ofdoves rear up seven or eight broods in the course of the year. Theconsequence is that, notwithstanding the fact that the full clutchconsists of but two eggs, doves share with crows, mynas, sparrows andgreen parrots the distinction of being the most successful birds inIndia. 

The nest of the dove is a subject over which most ornithologists havewaxed sarcastic. One writer compares the structure to a bundle ofspillikins. Another says, "Upset a box of matches in a bush and youwill have produced a very fair imitation of a dove's nursery!"According to a third, the best way to make an imitation dove's nest isto take four slender twigs, lay two of them on a branch and then placethe remaining two crosswise on top of the first pair. For all this, the dove's nest is a wonderful structure; it is a lesson in how tomake a little go a long way. Doves seem to place their nurserieshaphazard on the first branch or ledge they come across after thespirit has moved them to build. The nest appears to be built solely onconsiderations of hygiene. Ample light and air are a _sine qua non_;concealment appears to be a matter of no importance. 

In India winter is the time of year at which the larger birds of prey, both diurnal and nocturnal, rear up their broods. Throughout Januarythe white-backed vultures are occupied in parental duties. Thebreeding season of these birds begins in October or November and endsin February or March. The nest, which is placed high up in a loftytree, is a large platform composed of twigs which the birds themselvesbreak off from the growing tree. Much amusement may be derived fromwatching the struggles of a white-backed vulture when severing a toughbranch. Its wing-flapping and its tugging cause a great commotion inthe tree. The boughs used by vultures for their nests are mostlycovered with green leaves. These last wither soon after the branch hasbeen plucked, so that, after the first few days of its existence, thenest looks like a great ball of dead leaves caught in a tree. 

The nurseries of birds of prey can be described neither as picturesquenor as triumphs of architecture, but they have the great merit ofbeing easy to see. January is the month in which to look for theeyries of Bonelli's eagles (_Hieraetus fasciatus_); not that thesearch is likely to be successful. The high cliffs of the Jumna andthe Chambal in the Etawah district are the only places where the nestsof this fine eagle have been recorded in the United Provinces. Mr. A. J. Currie has found the nest on two occasions in a mango tree in atope at Lahore. In each case the eyrie was a flat platform of sticksabout twice the size of a kite's nest. The ground beneath the eyriewas littered with fowls' feathers and pellets of skin, fur and bone. Most of these pellets contained squirrels' skulls; and Mr. Currieactually saw one of the parent birds fly to the nest with a squirrelin its talons. 

Bonelli's eagle, when sailing through the air, may be recognised bythe long, hawk-like wings and tail, the pale body and dark brownwings. It soars in circles, beating its pinions only occasionally. 

The majority of the tawny eagles (_Aquila vindhiana_) build theirnests in December. By the middle of January many of the eggs haveyielded nestlings which are covered with white down. In size andappearance the tawny eagle is not unlike a kite. The shape of thetail, however, enables the observer to distinguish between the twospecies at a glance. The tail of the kite is long and forked, whilethat of the eagle is short and rounded at the extremity. The Pallas'sfishing-eagles (_Haliaetus leucoryphus_) are likewise busy feedingtheir young. These fine birds are readily identified by the broadwhite band in the tail. Their loud resonant but unmelodious calls makeit possible to recognise them when they are too far off for the whitetail band to be distinguished. 

This species is called a fishing-eagle; but it does not indulge muchin the piscatorial art. It prefers to obtain its food by robbingospreys, kites, marsh-harriers and other birds weaker than itself. Sobold is it that it frequently swoops down and carries off a dead orwounded duck shot by the sportsman. Another raptorial bird of whichthe nest is likely to be found in January is the _Turumti_ orred-headed merlin (_Aesalon chicquera_). The nesting season of thisferocious pigmy extends from January to May, reaching its heightduring March in the United Provinces and during April in the Punjab. 

As a general rule birds begin nesting operations in the Punjab fromfifteen to thirty days later than in the United Provinces. Unlessexpressly stated the times mentioned in this calendar relate to theUnited Provinces. The nest of the red-headed merlin is a compactcircular platform, about twelve inches in diameter, placed in a forknear the top of a tree. 

The attention of the observer is often drawn to the nests of thisspecies, as also to those of other small birds of prey and of thekite, by the squabbles that occur between them and the crows. Bothspecies of crow seem to take great delight in teasing raptorial birds. Sometimes two or three of the _corvi_ act as if they had formed aleague for the prevention of nest-building on the part of white-eyedbuzzards, kites, shikras and other of the lesser birds of prey. The_modus operandi_ of the league is for two or more of its members tohie themselves to the tree in which the victim is building its nest, take up positions near that structure and begin to caw derisively. This invariably provokes the owners of the nest to attack the blackvillains, who do not resist, but take to their wings. The angry, swearing builders follow in hot pursuit for a short distance and thenfly back to the nest. After a few minutes the crows return. Then theperformance is repeated; and so on, almost _ad infinitum_. The resultis that many pairs of birds of prey take three weeks or longer toconstruct a nest which they could have completed within a week hadthey been unmolested. 

Most of the larger owls are now building nests or sitting on eggs; afew are seeking food for their offspring. As owls work on silent wingat night, they escape the attentions of the crows and the notice ofthe average human being. The nocturnal birds of prey of which nestsare likely to be found in January are the brown fish-owl (_Ketupaceylonensis_) and the rock and the dusky horned-owls (_Bubobengalensis_ and _B. Coromandus_). The dusky horned-owl builds a sticknest in a tree, the rock horned-owl lays its eggs on the bare groundor on the ledge of a cliff, while the brown fish-owl makes a nestamong the branches or in a hollow in the trunk of a tree or on theledge of a cliff. 

In the Punjab the ravens, which in many respects ape the manners ofbirds of prey, are now nesting. A raven's nest is a compact collectionof twigs. It is usually placed in an isolated tree of no great size. 

The Indian raven has not the austere habits of its English brother. Itis fond of the society of its fellows. The range of this fine bird inthe plains of India is confined to the North-West Frontier ProvinceSind, and the Punjab. 

An occasional pair of kites may be seen at work nest-building duringthe present month. 

Some of the sand-martins (_Cotyle sinensis_), likewise, are engaged infamily duties. The river bank in which a colony of these birds isnesting is the scene of much animation. The bank is riddled withholes, each of which, being the entrance to a martin's nest, isvisited a score of times an hour by the parent birds, bringing insectscaptured while flying over the water. 

Some species of munia breed at this time of the year. The red munia, or amadavat, or _lal_ (_Estrelda amandava_) is, next to the paroquet, the bird most commonly caged in India. This little exquisite isconsiderably smaller than a sparrow. Its bill is bright crimson, andthere is some red or crimson in the plumage--more in the cock than inthe hen, and most in both sexes at the breeding season. The remainderof the plumage is brown, but is everywhere heavily spotted with white. In a state of nature these birds affect long grass, for they feedlargely, if not entirely, on grass seed. The cock has a sweet voice, which, although feeble, is sufficiently loud to be heard at somedistance and is frequently uttered. 

The nest of the amadavat is large for the size of the bird, being aloosely-woven cup, which is egg-shaped and has a hole at or near thenarrow end. It is composed of fine grass stems and is often lined withsoft material. It is usually placed in the middle of a bush, sometimesin a tussock of grass. From six to fourteen eggs are laid. These arewhite in colour. This species appears to breed twice in the year--fromOctober to February and again from June to August. 

The white-throated munia (_Uroloncha malabarica_) is a dull brownbird, with a white patch above the tail. Its throat is yellowishwhite. The old name for the bird--the plain brown munia--seems moreappropriate than that with which the species has since been saddled byBlanford. The nest of this little bird is more loosely put togetherand more globular than that of the amadavat. It is usually placed lowdown in a thorny bush. The number of eggs laid varies from six tofifteen. These, like those of the red munia, are white. June seems tobe the only month in the year in which the eggs of this species havenot been found. In the United Provinces more nests containing eggs arediscovered in January than in any other month. 

Occasionally in January a pair of hoopoes (_Upupa indica_) steals amarch on its brethren by selecting a nesting site and laying eggs. Hoopoes nest in holes in trees or buildings. The aperture to the nestcavity is invariably small. The hen hoopoe alone incubates, and as, when once she has begun to sit, she rarely, if ever, leaves the nesttill the eggs are hatched, the cock has to bring food to her. But, todescribe the nesting operations of the hoopoe in January is liketalking of cricket in April. It is in February and March that thehoopoes nest in their millions, and call softly, from morn till eve, _uk-uk-uk_. 

Of the other birds which nest later in the season mention must be madein the calendar for the present month of the Indian cliff-swallow(_Hirundo fluvicola_) and the blue rock-pigeon (_Columba intermedia_), because their nests are sometimes seen in January. 

FEBRUARY

 There's perfume upon every wind, Music in every tree, Dews for the moisture-loving flowers, Sweets for the sucking-bee. N. P. WILLIS. 

Even as January in northern India may be compared to a month made upof English May days and March nights, so may the Indian February belikened to a halcyon month composed of sparkling, sun-steeped Junedays and cool starlit April nights. 

February is the most pleasant month of the whole year in both thePunjab and the United Provinces; even November must yield the palm toit. The climate is perfect. The nights and early mornings are cool andinvigorating; the remainder of each day is pleasantly warm; the sun'srays, although gaining strength day by day, do not becomeuncomfortably hot save in the extreme south of the United Provinces. The night mists, so characteristic of December and January, are almostunknown in February, and the light dews that form during the hours ofdarkness disappear shortly after sunrise. 

The Indian countryside is now good to look upon; it possesses all thebeauties of the landscape of July; save the sunsets. The soft emeraldhue of the young wheat and barley is rendered more vivid by contrastwith the deep rich green of the mango trees. Into the earth's verdantcarpet is worked a gay pattern of white poppies, purple linseedblooms, blue and pink gram flowers, and yellow blossoms of mimosa, mustard and _arhar_. Towards the end of the month the silk-cottontrees (_Bombax malabarica_) begin to put forth their great redflowers, but not until March does each look like a great scarletnosegay. 

The patches of sugar-cane grow smaller day by day, and in nearly everyvillage the little presses are at work from morn till eve. 

From the guava groves issue the rattle of tin pots and the shouts ofthe boys told off to protect the ripening fruit from the attacks ofcrows, parrots and other feathered marauders. Nor do these soundsterminate at night-fall; indeed they become louder after dark, for itis then that the flying-foxes come forth and work sad havoc amongfruit of all descriptions. 

The fowls of the air are more vivacious than they were in January. Thebulbuls tinkle more blithely, the purple sunbirds sing more lustily;the _kutur_, _kutur_, _kuturuk_ of the green barbets is uttered morevociferously; the nuthatches now put their whole soul into their loud, sharp _tee-tee-tee-tee_, the hoopoes call _uk-uk-uk_ more vigorously. 

The coppersmiths (_Xantholaema haematocephala_) begin to hammer ontheir anvils--_tonk-tonk-tonk-tonk_, softly and spasmodically in theearly days of the month, but with greater frequency and intensity asthe days pass. The brain-fever bird (_Hierococcyx varius_) announceshis arrival in the United Provinces by uttering an occasional"brain-fever. " As the month draws to its close his utterances becomemore frequent. But his time is not yet. He merely gives us in Februarya foretaste of what is to come. 

The _tew_ of the black-headed oriole (_Oriolus melanocephalus_), whichis the only note uttered by the bird in the colder months, isoccasionally replaced in February by the summer call of the species--aliquid, musical _peeho_. In the latter half of the month the Indianrobin (_Thamnobia cambayensis_) begins to find his voice. Although notthe peer of his English cousin, he is no mean singer. At this time ofyear, however, his notes are harsh. He is merely "getting into form. "

The feeble, but sweet, song of the crested lark or _Chandul_ is one ofthe features of February. The Indian skylark likewise may now be heardsinging at Heaven's gate in places where there are large tracts ofuncultivated land. As in January so in February the joyous "Think ofme ... Never to be" of the grey-headed flycatcher emanates from everytope. 

By the middle of the month the pied wagtails and pied bush chats arein full song. Their melodies, though of small volume, are very sweet. 

The large grey shrikes add the clamour of their courtship to the avianchorus. 

Large numbers of doves, vultures, eagles, red-headed merlins, martinsand munias--birds whose nests were described in January--are stillbusy feeding their young. 

The majority of the brown fish-owls (_Ketupa ceylonensis_) and rockhorned-owls (_Bubo bengalensis_) are sitting; a few of them arefeeding young birds. The dusky horned-owls (_B. Coromandus_) haveeither finished breeding or are tending nestlings. In addition to thenests of the above-mentioned owls those of the collared scops owl(_Scops bakkamaena_) and the mottled wood-owl (_Syrnium ocellatum_)are likely to be found at this season of the year. The scops is asmall owl with aigrettes or "horns, " the wood-owl is a large birdwithout aigrettes. 

Both nest in holes in trees and lay white eggs after the manner oftheir kind. The scops owl breeds from January till April, whileFebruary and March are the months in which to look for the eggs of thewood-owl. 

In the western districts of the United Provinces the Indiancliff-swallows (_Hirundo fluvicola_) are beginning to construct theircurious nests. Here and there a pair of blue rock-pigeons (_Colombiaintermedia_) is busy with eggs or young ones. In the Punjab the ravensare likewise employed. 

The nesting season of the hoopoe has now fairly commenced. Courtshipis the order of the day. The display of this beautiful species is notat all elaborate. The bird that "shows off" merely runs along theground with corona fully expanded. Mating hoopoes, however, performstrange antics in the air; they twist and turn and double, just as aflycatcher does when chasing a fleet insect. Both the hoopoe and theroller are veritable aerial acrobats. By the end of the month all buta few of the hoopoes have begun to nest; most of them have eggs, whilethe early birds, described in January as stealing a march on theirbrethren, are feeding their offspring. The 6th February is theearliest date on which the writer has observed a hoopoe carrying foodto the nest; that was at Ghazipur. 

March and April are the months in which the majority of coppersmithsor crimson-breasted barbets rear up their families. Some, however, arealready working at their nests. The eggs are hatched in a cavity in atree--a cavity made by means of the bird's bill. Both sexes take partin nest construction. A neatly-cut circular hole, about the size of arupee, on the lower surface or the side of a branch is assuredly theentrance to the nest of a coppersmith, a green barbet, or awoodpecker. 

As the month draws to its close many a pair of nuthatches (_Sittacastaneiventris_) may be observed seeking for a hollow in which tonestle. The site selected is usually a small hole in the trunk of amango tree that has weathered many monsoons. The birds reduce theorifice of the cavity to a very small size by plastering up thegreater part of it with mud. Hence the nest of the nuthatch, unlessdiscovered when in course of construction, is difficult to locate. 

All the cock sunbirds (_Arachnechthra asiatica_) are now in the fullglory of their nuptial plumage. Here and there an energetic little henis busily constructing her wonderful pendent nest. Great is thevariety of building material used by the sunbird. Fibres, slenderroots, pliable stems, pieces of decayed wood, lichen, thorns and evenpaper, cotton and rags, are pressed into service. All are heldtogether by cobweb, which is the favourite cement of bird masons. Thegeneral shape of the nest is that of a pear. Its contour is oftenirregular, because some of the materials hang loosely from the outersurface. 

The nursery is attached by means of cobweb to the beam or branch fromwhich it hangs. It is cosily lined with cotton or other soft material. The hen, who alone builds the nest and incubates the eggs, enters andleaves the chamber by a hole at one side. This is protected by alittle penthouse. The door serves also as window. The hen rests herchin on the lower part of this while she is incubating her eggs, andthus is able, as she sits, to see what is going on in the great worldwithout. She displays little fear of man and takes no pains to concealher nest, which is often built in the verandah of an inhabitedbungalow. 

As the month nears its end the big black crows (_Corvusmacrorhynchus_) begin to construct their nests. The site selected isusually a forked branch of a large tree. The nest is a clumsy platformof sticks with a slight depression, lined by human or horse hair orother soft material, for the reception of the eggs. Both sexes takepart in incubation. From the time the first egg is laid until theyoung are big enough to leave the nest this is very rarely leftunguarded. When one parent is away the other remains sitting on theeggs, or, after the young have hatched out, on the edge of the nest. Crows are confirmed egg-stealers and nestling-lifters, and, knowingthe guile that is in their own hearts, keep a careful watch over theiroffspring. 

The kites (_Milvus govinda_) are likewise busy at their nurseries. Atthis season of the year they are noisier than usual, which is saying agreat deal. They not only utter unceasingly their shrill_chee-hee-hee-hee_, but engage in many a squabble with the crows. 

The nest of the kite, like that of the corby, is an untidy mass ofsticks and twigs placed conspicuously in a lofty tree. Dozens of thesenests are to be seen in every Indian cantonment in February and March. Why the crows and the kites should prefer the trees in a cantonment tothose in the town or surrounding country has yet to be discovered. 

Mention has already been made of the fact that January is the month inwhich the majority of the tawny eagles nest; not a few, however, deferoperations till February. Hume states that, of the 159 eggs of thisspecies of which he has a record, 38 were taken in December, 83 inJanuary and 28 in February. 

The nesting season of the white-backed vulture is drawing to a close. On the other hand, that of the black or Pondicherry vulture (_Otogypscalvus_) is beginning. This species may be readily distinguished fromthe other vultures, by its large size, its white thighs and the redwattles that hang down from the sides of the head like drooping ears. 

The nest of this bird is a massive platform of sticks, large enough toaccommodate two or three men. Hume once demolished one of thesevulturine nurseries and found that it weighed over eight maunds, thatis to say about six hundredweight. This vulture usually builds itsnest in a lofty _pipal_ tree, but in localities devoid of tall treesthe platform is placed on the top of a bush. 

February marks the beginning of the nesting season of the handsomepied kingfisher (_Ceryle rudis_). This is the familiar, black-and-white bird that fishes by hovering kestrel-like onrapidly-vibrating wings and then dropping from a height of some twentyfeet into the water below; it is a bird greatly addicted to goldfishand makes sad havoc of these where they are exposed in ornamentalponds. The nest of the pied kingfisher is a circular tunnel or burrow, more than a yard in length, excavated in a river bank. The burrow, which is dug out by the bird, is about three inches in diameter andterminates in a larger chamber in which the eggs are laid. 

Another spotted black-and-white bird which now begins nestingoperations is the yellow-fronted pied woodpecker (_Liopicusmahrattensis_)--a species only a little less common than the beautifulgolden-backed woodpecker. Like all the Picidae this bird nests in thetrunk or a branch of a tree. Selecting a part of a tree which isdecayed--sometimes a portion of the bole quite close to theground--the woodpecker hews out with its chisel-like beak a neatcircular tunnel leading to the cavity in the decayed wood in which theeggs will be deposited. The tap, tap, tap of the bill as it cuts intothe wood serves to guide the observer to the spot where thewoodpecker, with legs apart and tail adpressed to the tree, is atwork. In the same way a barbet's nest, while under construction, maybe located with ease. A woodpecker when excavating its nest will oftenallow a human being to approach sufficiently dose to witness it throwover its shoulder the chips of wood it has cut away with its bill. 

In the United Provinces many of the ashy-crowned finch-larks(_Pyrrhulauda grisea_) build their nests during February. In thePunjab they breed later; April and May being the months in which theireggs are most often found in that province. These curioussquat-figured little birds are rendered easy of recognition by theunusual scheme of colouring displayed by the cock--his upper parts areearthy grey and his lower plumage is black. 

The habit of the finch-lark is to soar to a little height and thendrop to the ground, with wings closed, singing as it descends. Itinvariably affects open plains. There are very few tracts of treelessland in India which are not tenanted by finch-larks. The nest is amere pad of grass and feathers placed on the ground in a tussock ofgrass, beside a clod of earth, or in a depression, such as ahoof-print. The most expeditious way of finding nests of these birdsin places where they are abundant is to walk with a line of beatersover a tract of fallow land and mark carefully the spots from whichthe birds rise. 

With February the nesting season of the barn-owls (_Strix flammea_)begins in the United Provinces, where their eggs have been taken asearly as the 17th. 

Towards the end of the month the white-browed fantail flycatchers(_Rhipidura albifrontata_) begin to nest. The loud and cheerful songof this little feathered exquisite is a tune of six or seven notesthat ascend and descend the musical scale. It is one of the mostfamiliar of the sounds that gladden the Indian countryside. The broadwhite eyebrow and the manner in which, with drooping wings and tailspread into a fan, this flycatcher waltzes and pirouettes among thebranches of a tree render it unmistakable. The nest is a dainty littlecup, covered with cobweb, attached to one of the lower boughs of atree. So small is the nursery that sometimes the incubating bird looksas though it were sitting across a branch. This species appears torear two broods every year. The first comes into existence in March orlate February in the United Provinces and five or six weeks later inthe Punjab; the second brood emerges during the monsoon. 

The white-eyed buzzards--weakest of all the birds of prey--begin topair towards the end of the month. At this season they frequently risehigh above the earth and soar, emitting plaintive cries. 

The handsome, but destructive, green parrots are now seeking, ormaking, cavities in trees or buildings in which to deposit their whiteeggs. 

The breeding season for the alexandrine (_Palaeornis eupatrius_) andthe rose-ringed paroquet (_P. Torquatus_) begins at the end of Januaryor early in February. March is the month in which most eggs are taken. 

In April and May the bird-catchers go round and collect the nestlingsin order to sell them at four annas apiece. Green parrots are the mostpopular cage birds in India. Destructive though they be and a scourgeto the husbandman, one cannot but pity the luckless captives doomed tospend practically the whole of their existence in small iron cages, which, when exposed to the sun in the hot weather, as they often are, must be veritable infernos. 

The courtship of a pair of green parrots is as amusing to watch asthat of any 'Arry and 'Arriet. Not possessing hats the amorous birdsare unable to exchange them, but otherwise their actions are quitecoster-like. The female twists herself into all manner of ridiculouspostures and utters low twittering notes. The cock sits at her sideand admires. Every now and then he shows his appreciation of herantics by tickling her head with his beak or by joining his bill tohers. 

Both the grey shrike and the wood-shrike begin nesting operations inFebruary. As, however, most of their nests are likely to be foundlater in the year they are dealt with in the calendar for March. 

MARCH

 And all the jungle laughed with nesting songs, And all the thickets rustled with small life Of lizard, bee, beetle, and creeping things Pleased at the spring time. In the mango sprays The sun-birds flashed; alone at his green forge Toiled the loud coppersmith;... ARNOLD, _The Light of Asia_. 

In March the climate of the plains of the United Provinces varies fromplace to place. In the western sub-Himalayan tracts, as in the Punjab, the weather still leaves little to be desired. The sun indeed ispowerful; towards the end of the month the maximum shade temperatureexceeds 80 degrees, but the nights and early mornings are delightfullycool. In all the remaining parts of the United Provinces, except theextreme south, temperate weather prevails until nearly the end of themonth. In the last days the noonday heat becomes so great that manypersons close their bungalows for several hours daily to keep themcool, the outer temperature rising to ninety in the shade. At night, however, the temperature drops to 65 degrees. In the extreme south ofthe Province the hot weather sets in by the middle of March. The skyassumes a brazen aspect and, at midday, the country is swept bywesterly winds which seem to come from a titanic blast furnace. 

The spring crops grow more golden day by day. The mustard is the firstto ripen. The earlier-sown fields are harvested in March in theeastern and southern parts of the country. The spring cereals are cutby hand sickles, the grain is then husked by the tramping of cattle, and, lastly, the chaff is separated from the grain on the threshingfloor, the hot burning wind often acting as a natural winnowing fan. 

The air is heavily scented with the inconspicuous inflorescences ofthe mangos (_Mangifera indica_). The pipals (_Ficus religiosa_) areshedding their leaves; the _sheshams_ (_Dalbergia sissoo_) areassuming their emerald spring foliage. 

The garden, the jungle and the forest are beautified by the gorgeousreds of the flowers of the silk-cotton tree (_Bombax malabarica_), theIndian coral tree (_Erythrina indica_) and the flame-of-the-forest(_Butea frondosa_). The sub-Himalayan forests become yellow-tintedowing to the fading of the leaves of the _sal_ (_Shorea robusta_), many of which are shed in March. The _sal_, however, is never entirelyleafless; the young foliage appears as the old drops off; while thischange is taking place the minute pale yellow flowers open out. 

The familiar yellow wasps, which have been hibernating during the coldweather, emerge from their hiding-places and begin to construct theirumbrella-shaped nests or combs, which look as if they were made ofrice-paper. 

March is a month of great activity for the birds. Those thatconstituted the avian chorus of February continue to sing, and totheir voices are now added those of many other minstrels. Chief ofthese is the pied singer of Ind--the magpie-robin or _dhayal_--whosesong is as beautiful as that of the English robin at his best. Fromthe housetops the brown rock-chat begins to pour forth his exceedinglysweet lay. The Indian robin is in full song. The little golden ioras, hidden away amid dense foliage, utter their many joyful sounds. Thebrain-fever bird grows more vociferous day by day. The crow-pheasants, which have been comparatively silent during the colder months of theyear, 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 thesilk-cotton and the coral trees. These, although botanically verydifferent, display many features in common. They begin to lose theirleaves soon after the monsoon is over, and are leafless by the end ofthe winter. In the early spring, while the tree is still devoid offoliage, huge scarlet, crimson or yellow flowers emerge from everybranch. Each flower is plentifully supplied with honey; it is aflowing bowl of which all are invited to partake, and hundreds ofthousands of birds accept the invitation with right good-will. Thescene at each of these trees, when in full flower, bafflesdescription. 

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 beheard at a distance of half a mile or more. Even before the sun hasrisen and begun to dispel the pleasant coolness of the night thedrinking 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 degrees than 90 degreessome avian brawlers are present. As soon as the first touch of theafternoon coolness is felt the clamour acquires fresh vigour and doesnot cease until the sun has set in a dusty haze, and the spottedowlets have emerged and begun to cackle and call as is their wont. 

These last are by no means the only birds that hold concert partiesduring the hours of darkness. In open country the jungle owlet and thedusky-horned owl call at intervals, and the Indian nightjar(_Caprimulgus asiaticus_) imitates the sound of a stone skimming overice. In the forest tracts Franklin's and Horsfield's nightjars makethe welkin ring. Scarce has the sun disappeared below the horizon whenthe former issues forth and utters its harsh _tweet_. Horsfield'snightjar emerges a few minutes later, and, for some hours after duskand for several before dawn, it utters incessantly its loud monotonous_chuck_, _chuck_, _chuck_, _chuck_, _chuck_, which has been aptlycompared to the sound made by striking a plank sharply with a hammer. 

March is the month in which the majority of the shrikes orbutcher-birds go a-courting. There is no false modesty aboutbutcher-birds. They are not ashamed to introduce their unmelodiouscalls into the avian chorus. But they are mild offenders in comparisonwith the king-crows (_Dicrurus ater_) and the rollers (_Coraciasindica_). 

The little black king-crows are at all seasons noisy and vivacious:from the end of February until the rains have set in they arepositively uproarious. Two or three of them love to sit on a telegraphwire, or a bare branch of a tree, and hold a concert. The firstperformer draws itself up to its full height and then gives vent toharsh cries. Before it has had time to deliver itself of all it has tosing, an impatient neighbour joins in and tries to shout it down. Theconcert may last for half an hour or longer; the scene is shifted fromtime to time as the participants become too excited to sit still. Theking-crows so engaged appear to be selecting their mates; neverthelessnest-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 thegorgeous roller or blue jay. Has not everyone marvelled at the hoarsecries and rasping screams which emanate from these birds as they flingthemselves into the air and ascend and descend as though they werebeing tossed about by unseen hands?

Their wonderful aerial performances go on continually in the hours ofdaylight throughout the months of March and April; at this season thebirds, beautiful although they be, are a veritable nuisance, and mostpeople gratefully welcome the comparative quiet that supervenes afterthe eggs have been laid. The madness of the March hare is mildcompared with that of the March roller. It is difficult to realisethat the harsh and angry-sounding cries of these birds denote, notrage, but joy. 

The great exodus of the winter visitors from the plains of Indiabegins in March. It continues until mid-May, by which time the last ofthe migratory birds will have reached its distant breeding ground. 

This exodus is usually preceded by the gathering into flocks of therose-coloured starlings and the corn-buntings. Large noisycongregations of these birds are a striking feature of February inBombay, of March in the United Provinces, and of April in the Punjab. 

Rose-coloured starlings spend most of their lives in the plains ofIndia, going to Asia Minor for a few months each summer for nestingpurposes. In the autumn they spread themselves over the greater partof Hindustan, most abundantly in the Deccan. 

In the third or fourth week of February the rosy starlings of Bombaybegin to form flocks. These make merry among the flowers of the coraltree, which appear first in South India, and last in the Punjab. Thenoisy flocks journey northwards in a leisurely manner, timing theirarrival at each place simultaneously with the flowering of the coraltrees. They feed on the nectar provided by these flowers and those ofthe silk-cotton tree. They also take toll of the ripening corn and ofthe mulberries which are now in season. Thus the rosy starlings reachAllahabad about the second week in March, and Lahore some fifteen dayslater. 

The head, neck, breast, wings and tail of the rosy starling are glossyblack, and the remainder of the plumage is pale salmon in the hen andthe 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 aconcert, if such a term may be applied to a torrent of sibilanttwitter. 

Buntings, like rosy starlings, are social birds, and are verydestructive to grain crops. 

As these last are harvested the feeding area of the buntings becomesrestricted, so that eventually every patch of standing crop is alivewith buntings. The spring cereals ripen in the south earlier than innorthern India, so that the cheerful buntings are able to performtheir migratory journey by easy stages and find abundant food allalong the route. 

There are two species of corn-bunting--the red-headed (_Emberizaluteola_) and the black-headed (_E. Melanocephala_). In both the lowerplumage is bright yellow. 

Among the earliest of the birds to forsake the plains of Hindustan arethe grey-lag goose and the pintail duck. These leave Bengal inFebruary, but tarry longer in the cooler parts of the country. Of theother migratory species many individuals depart in March, but thegreater number remain on into April, when they are caught up in thegreat migratory wave that surges over the country. The destination ofthe majority of these migrants is Tibet or Siberia, but a few aresatisfied with the cool slopes of the Himalayas as a summer resort inwhich to busy themselves with the sweet cares of nesting. Examples ofthese more local migrants are the grey-headed and the verditerflycatchers, the Indian bush-chat and, to some extent, the paradiseflycatcher and the Indian oriole. The case of the oriole isinteresting. All the Indian orioles (_Oriolus kundoo_) disappear fromthe Punjab and the United Provinces in winter. In the former provinceno other oriole replaces _O. Kundoo_, but in the United Provinces theblack-headed oriole (_O. Melanocephalus_) comes to take the place ofthe other from October to March. When this last returns to the UnitedProvinces in March the greater number of _melanocephalus_ individualsgo east, a few only remaining in the sub-Himalayan tracts of theprovince. 

The Indian oriole is not the only species which finds the climate ofthe United Provinces too severe for it in winter; the koel and theparadise flycatcher likewise desert us in the coldest months. From theless temperate Punjab several species migrate in October which manageto maintain themselves in the United Provinces throughout the year:these are the purple sunbird, the little green and the blue-tailedbee-eaters, and the yellow-throated sparrow. The return of these andthe other migrant species to the Punjab in March is as marked aphenomenon as is the arrival of the swallow and the cuckoo in Englandin spring. 

The behaviour of the king-crows shows the marked effect acomparatively small difference of temperature may exert on the habitsof some birds. In the United Provinces the king-crows appear to be asnumerous in winter as in summer: in the Punjab they are very plentifulin summer, but rare in the cold weather; while not a single king-crowwinters in the N. -W. Frontier Province. 

Of the birds of which the nests were described in January and Februarythe Pallas's fishing eagles have sent their nestlings into the worldto fend for themselves. 

In the case of the following birds the breeding season is fast drawingto its close:--the dusky horned-owl, the white-backed vulture, Bonelli's eagle, the tawny eagle, the brown fish-owl, the rockhorned-owl, the raven, the amadavat and the white-throated munia. 

The nesting season is at its height for all the other birds of whichthe nests have been described, namely, most species of dove, thejungle crow, the red-headed merlin, the purple sunbird, the nuthatch, the fantail flycatcher, the finch-lark, the pied woodpecker, thecoppersmith, the alexandrine and the rose-ringed paroquet, thewhite-eyed buzzard, the collared scops and the mottled wood-owl, thekite, 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 wasmade in January and February of the Indian cliff-swallow (_Hirundofluvicola_). This species is not found in the eastern districts of theUnited Provinces, but it is the common swallow of the westerndistricts. The head is dull chestnut. The back and shoulders areglistening steel-blue. The remainder of the upper plumage is brown. The lower parts are white with brown streaks, which are most apparenton the throat and upper breast. These swallows normally nest at twoseasons of the year--from February till April and in July or August. 

They breed in colonies. The mud nests are spherical or oval with anentrance tube from two to six inches long. The nests are invariablyattached to a cliff or building, and, although isolated ones are builtsometimes, they usually occur in clusters, as many as two hundred havebeen counted in one cluster. In such a case a section cut parallel tothe surface to which the nests are attached looks like that of a hugehoneycomb composed of cells four inches in diameter--cells of a kindthat 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 nowbusy at its nest. 

This species spends most of its life in shady gardens; it feeds oninsects in preference to fish. It does not invariably select a riverbank 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, sometwo feet in length and three inches in diameter, leading to a largerchamber in which from four to seven eggs are laid. 

A pair of white-breasted kingfishers at work during the early stagesof nest construction affords an interesting spectacle. Not being ableto obtain a foothold on the almost perpendicular surface of the bank, the birds literally charge this in turn with fixed beak. By asuccession of such attacks at one spot a hole of an appreciable sizeis soon formed in the soft sand. Then the birds are able to obtain afoothold and to excavate with the bill, while clinging to the edge ofthe hole. Every now and then they indulge in a short respite fromtheir labours. While thus resting one of the pair will sometimesspread its wings for an instant and display the white patch; then itwill close them and make a neat bow, as if to say "Is not that nice?"Its companion may remain motionless and unresponsive, or may returnthe compliment. 

In the first days of March the bulbuls begin to breed. In 1912 thewriter saw a pair of bulbuls (_Otocompsa emeria_) building a nest onthe 3rd March. By the 10th the structure was complete and held thefull clutch of three eggs. On that date a second nest was foundcontaining three eggs. 

In 1913 the writer first saw a bulbul's nest on the 5th March. Thisbelonged to _Molpastes bengalensis_ and contained two eggs. On thefollowing 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 specieswhich display only small differences in appearance and interbreedfreely at the places where they meet. They are known as the Madras, the Bengal, the Punjab, etc. , red-vented bulbul. They are somewhatlarger than sparrows. The head, which bears a short crest, and theface are black; the rest of the body, except a patch of bright redunder the tail, is brown, each feather having a pale margin. 

In _Otocompsa_ the crest is long and rises to a sharp point whichcurves forward a little over the beak. The breast is white, set off bya black gorget. There is the usual red patch under the tail and apatch of the same hue on each side of the face, whence the Englishname for the bird--the red-whiskered bulbul. 

_Molpastes_ and _Otocompsa_ have similar habits. They are fecklesslittle birds that build cup-shaped nests in all manner of queer andexposed situations. Those that live near the habitations of Europeansnestle in low bushes in the garden, or in pot plants in the verandah. Small crotons are often selected, preferably those that do not bear ascore of leaves. The sitting bulbul does not appear to mind the dailyshower-bath it receives when the _mali_ waters the plant. Sometimes asmany as three or four pairs of bulbuls attempt to rear up families inone verandah. The word "attempt" is used advisedly, because, owing tothe exposed situations in which nests are built, large numbers of eggsand young bulbuls are destroyed by boys, cats, snakes and otherpredaceous creatures. The average bulbul loses six broods for everyone it succeeds in rearing. The eggs are pink with reddish markings. 

March is the month in which to look for the nest of the Indianwren-warbler (_Prinia inornata_). _Inornata_ is a very appropriatespecific name for this tiny earth-brown bird, which is devoid of allkind of ornamentation. Its voice is as homely as its appearance--aharsh but plaintive _twee_, _twee_, _twee_. It weaves a nest whichlooks like a ragged loofah with a hole in the side. The nest isusually placed low down in a bush or in long grass. Sometimes it isattached to two or more stalks of corn. In such cases the corn isoften cut before the young birds have had time to leave the nest, andthen the brood perishes. This species brings up a second family in therainy season. 

The barn-owls (_Strix flammea_) are now breeding. They lay their eggsin cavities in trees, buildings or walls. In northern India thenesting season lasts from February to June. Eggs are most likely to befound in the United Provinces during the present month. 

The various species of babblers or seven sisters begin to nest inMarch. Unlike bulbuls these birds are careful to conceal the nest. This is a slenderly-built, somewhat untidy cup, placed in a bush ortree. The eggs are a beautiful rich blue, without any markings. 

The hawk-cuckoo, or brain-fever bird (_Hierococcyx varius_), to whichallusion has already been made, deposits its eggs in the nests ofvarious species of babblers. The eggs of this cuckoo are blue, but aredistinguishable from those of the babbler by their larger size. It maybe noted, in passing, that this cuckoo does not extend far into thePunjab. 

As stated above, most of the shrikes go a-courting in March. Nest-building follows hard on courtship. In this month and in Aprilmost of the shrikes lay their eggs, but nests containing eggs or youngare to be seen in May, June, July and August. Shrikes are birds ofprey in miniature. Although not much larger than sparrows they are asfierce as falcons. 

Their habit is to seize the quarry on the ground, after having pouncedupon 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 isclothed mainly in grey; however, it has a broad black band runningthrough the eye--the escutcheon of the butcher-bird clan. It beginsnesting before the other species, and its eggs are often taken inFebruary. 

The other common species are the bay-backed (_L. Vittatus_) and therufous-backed shrike (_L. Erythronotus_). These are smaller birds andhave the back red. The former is distinguishable from the latter byhaving in the wings and tail much white, which is very conspicuousduring flight. 

The nest of each species is a massive cup, composed of twigs, thorns, grasses, feathers, and, usually, some pieces of rag; these last oftenhang down in a most untidy manner. The nest is, as a rule, placed in ababool or other thorny tree, close up against the trunk. 

Three allies of the shrikes are likewise busy with their nests at thisseason. These are the wood-shrike, the minivet and the cuckoo-shrike. The wood-shrike (_Tephrodornis pondicerianus_) is an ashy-brown birdof the size of a sparrow with a broad white eyebrow. It frequentlyemits a characteristic soft, melancholy, whistling note, which Ehadescribes as "Be thee cheery. " How impracticable are all efforts to"chain by syllables airy sounds"! The cup-like nest of this species isalways carefully concealed in a tree. 

Minivets are aerial exquisites. In descriptions of them superlativefollows upon superlative. The cocks of most species are arrayed inscarlet and black; the hens are not a whit less brilliantly attired inyellow and sable. One species lives entirely in the plains, othersvisit them in the cold weather; the majority are permanent residentsof the hills. The solitary denizen of the plains--the little minivet(_Pericrocotus peregrinus_)--is the least resplendent of them all. Itsprevailing hue is slaty grey, but the cock has a red breast and somered on the back. The nest is a cup so small as either to be invisiblefrom below or to present the appearance of a knot or thickening in thebranch on which it is placed. Sometimes two broods are reared in thecourse of the year--one in March, April or May and the other duringthe rainy season. 

The cuckoo-shrike (_Grauculus macii_) is not nearly related to thecuckoo, nor has it the parasitic habits of the latter. Its greyplumage is barred like that of the common cuckoo, hence the adjective. The cuckoo-shrike is nearly as big as a dove. It utters constantly acurious harsh call. It keeps much to the higher branches of trees inwhich it conceals, with great care, its saucer-like nest. 

As we have seen, some coppersmiths and pied woodpeckers began nestingoperations in February, but the great majority do not lay eggs untilMarch. 

The green barbet (_Thereoceryx zeylonicus_) and the golden-backedwoodpecker (_Brachypternus aurantius_) are now busy excavating theirnests, which are so similar to those of their respective cousins--thecoppersmith and the pied woodpecker--as to require no description. Itis 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 thanever, and will continue with unabated vigour until the rains havefairly set in. 

By the end of the month many of the noisy rollers have found holes indecayed trees in which the hens can lay their eggs. The vociferousnightjars likewise have laid upon the bare ground their salmon-pinkeggs with strawberry-coloured markings. 

The noisy spotted owlets (_Athene brama_) and the rose-ringedparoquets (_Palaeornis torquatus_) are already the happy possessors ofclutches of white eggs hidden away in cavities of decayed trees orbuildings. 

The swifts (_Cypselus indicus_) also are busy with their nests. Theseare saucer-shaped structures, composed of feathers, straw and othermaterials made to adhere together, and to the beam or stone to whichthe nest is attached, by the glutinous saliva of the swifts. Desertedbuildings, outhouses and verandahs of bungalows are the usual nestingsites of these birds. At this season swifts are very noisy. Throughoutthe day and at frequent intervals during the night they emit loudshivering screams. At sunset they hold high carnival, playing, atbreakneck 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 ourverandahs. Sparrows and doves are so employed, as are the wire-tailedswallows (_Hirundo smithii_). These last are steel-blue birds with redheads and white under plumage. They derive the name "wire-tailed" fromthe fact that the thin shafts of the outer pair of tail feathers areprolonged five inches beyond the others and look like wires. Wire-tailed swallows occasionally build in verandahs, but they preferto attach their saucer-shaped mud nests to the arches of bridges andculverts. 

With a nest in such a situation the parent birds are not obliged to gofar 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 toHume these beautiful birds breed chiefly in February and March andagain in July, August and September. However, he states that he hasseen eggs as early as January and as late as November. In theHimalayas he has obtained the eggs in April, May and June. 

The present writer's experience does not agree with that of Hume. InLahore, Saharanpur and Pilibhit, May and June are the months in whichmost nests of this species are likely to be seen. The writer has foundnests with eggs or young on the following dates in the above-mentionedplaces: May 13th, 15th, 16th, 17th; June 6th and 28th. 

The nest of June 28th was attached to a rafter of the front verandahof a bungalow at Lahore. The owner of the house stated that theswallows in question had already reared one brood that year, and thatthe birds in question had nested in his verandah for some years. Thereis no doubt that some wire-tailed swallows bring up two broods. Suchwould seem to breed, as Hume says, in February and March and again inJuly and August. But, as many nests containing eggs are found in May, some individuals appear to have one brood only, which hatches out inMay or June. 

Those useful but ugly fowls, the white scavenger vultures (_Neophronginginianus_), depart from the ways of their brethren in that theynidificate in March and April instead of in January and February. Thenest is an evil-smelling pile of sticks, rags and rubbish. It isplaced on some building or in a tree. 

The handsome brahminy kites (_Haliastur indicus_), attired in chestnutand white, are now busily occupied, either in seeking for sites or inactually building their nests, which resemble those of the commonkite. 

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 orfibres (often a deep cup in the case of the crested lark) placed onthe ground in a hole or a depression, or protected by a tussock ofgrass or a small bush. 

On the churs and sand islets in the large Indian rivers the terns arebusy with their eggs, which are deposited on the bare sand. They breedin colonies. On the same islet are to be seen the eggs of the Indianriver tern, the black-bellied tern, the swallow-plover, thespur-winged plover and the Indian skimmer. 

The eggs of all the above species are of similar appearance, theground colour being greenish, or buff, or the hue of stone or cream, with reddish or brownish blotches. Three is the full complement ofeggs. The bare white glittering sands on which these eggs aredeposited are often at noon so hot as to be painful to touch;accordingly during the daytime there is no need for the birds to siton the eggs in order to keep them warm. Indeed, it has always been amystery to the writer why terns' eggs laid in March in northern Indiado not get cooked. Mr. A. J. Currie recently came across some eggs ofthe black-bellied tern that had had water sprinkled over them. He isof opinion that the incubating birds treat the eggs thus in order toprevent their getting sun-baked. This theory should be borne in mindby 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 warmin the daytime, and they spend much of their time in wheelinggracefully overhead or in sleeping on the sand. By nightfall all theeggs are covered by parent birds, which are said to sit so closelythat it is possible to catch them by means of a butterfly net. Theterns, 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 ona nest-laden sandbank, the parent birds fly round his head, utteringloud screams. 

The swallow-plovers go farther. They become so excited that theyflutter about on the sand, with dragging wings and limping legs, as ifbadly wounded. Sometimes they perform somersaults in their intenseexcitement. The nearer the intruder approaches their eggs the morevigorous do their antics become. 

Every lover of the winged folk should make a point of visiting, latein March or early in April, an islet on which these birds nest. Hewill find much to interest him there. In April many of the young birdswill be hatched out. A baby tern is an amusing object. It is coveredwith soft sand-coloured down. When a human being approaches itcrouches on the sand, half burying its head in its shoulders, andremains thus perfectly motionless. If picked up it usually remainslimply in the hand, so that, but for its warmth, it might be deemedlifeless. After it has been set down again on the sand, it will remainmotionless until the intruder's back is turned, when it will run tothe water as fast as its little legs can carry it. It swims as easilyas a duck. Needless to state, the parent birds make a great noisewhile their young are being handled. 

Birds decline to be fettered by the calendar. Many of the specieswhich do not ordinarily nest until April or May occasionally beginoperations in March, hence nests of the following species, which aredealt with next month, may occur in the present one:--the tree-pie, tailor-bird, common myna, bank-myna, brown rock-chat, brown-backedrobin, pied wagtail, red-winged bush-lark, shikra, red-wattledlapwing, yellow-throated sparrow, bee-eater, blue rock-pigeon, greenpigeon and grey partridge. 

March the 15th marks the beginning of the close season for game birdsin all the reserved forests of Northern India. This is none too soon, as some individuals begin breeding at the end of the month. 

APRIL

 The breeze moves slow with thick perfume From every mango grove; From coral tree to parrot bloom The black bees questing rove, The koil wakes the early dawn. WATERFIELD, _Indian Ballads_. 

The fifteenth of April marks the beginning of the "official" hotweather in the United Provinces; but the elements decline to conformto the rules of man. In the eastern and southern districts hot-weatherconditions are established long before mid-April, while in thesub-Himalayan belt the temperature remains sufficiently low throughoutthe month to permit human beings to derive some physical enjoymentfrom existence. In that favoured tract the nights are usually clearand cool, so that it is very pleasant to sleep outside beneath thestarry canopy of the heavens. 

It requires an optimist to say good things of April days, even in thesub-Himalayan tract. Fierce scorching west winds sweep over the earth, covering everything with dust. Sometimes the flying sand is so thickas to obscure the landscape, and often, after the wind has dropped, the particles remain suspended for days as a dust haze. The dust is ascourge. It is all-pervading. It enters eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Toescape it is impossible. Closed doors and windows fail to keep it fromentering the bungalow. The only creatures which appear to beindifferent to it are the fowls of the air. As to the heat, thenon-migratory species positively revel in it. The crows and a fewother birds certainly do gasp and pant when the sun is at its height, but even they, save for a short siesta at midday, are as active inApril and May as schoolboys set free from a class-room. April is themonth in which the spring crops are harvested. As soon as the _Holi_festival is over the cultivators issue forth in thousands, armed withsickles, and begin to reap. They are almost as active as the birds, but their activity is forced and not spontaneous; like mostAnglo-Indian officials they literally earn their bread by the sweat ofthe brow. Thanks to their unceasing labours the countryside becomestransformed during the month; that which was a sea of smilinggolden-brown wheat and barley becomes a waste of short stubble. 

Nature gives some compensation for the heat and the dust in the shapeof mulberries, loquats, lichis and cool luscious papitas and melonswhich ripen in March or April. The mango blossom becomes transfiguredinto fruit, which, by the end of the month, is as large as an egg, andwill be ready for gathering in the latter half of May. 

Many trees are in flower. The coral, the silk-cotton and the _dhak_are resplendent with red foliage. The _jhaman_, the _siris_ and the_mohwa_ are likewise in bloom and, ere the close of the month, the_amaltas_ or Indian laburnum will put forth its bright yellow flowersin great profusion. Throughout April the air is heavy with the scentof blossoms. The _shesham_, the _sal_, the _pipal_ and the _nim_ arevivid with fresh foliage. But notwithstanding all this galaxy ofcolour, notwithstanding the brightness of the sun and the blueness ofthe sky, the countryside lacks the sweetness that Englishmen associatewith springtime, because the majority of the trees, being evergreen, do not renew their clothing completely at this season, and the foliageis everywhere more or less obscured by the all-pervading dust. 

The great avian emigration, which began in March, now reaches itsheight. During the warm April nights millions of birds leave theplains of India. The few geese remaining at the close of March, departin the first days of April. 

The brahminy ducks, which during the winter months were scattered intwos and threes over the lakes and rivers of Northern India, collectinto flocks that migrate, one by one, to cooler climes, so that, bythe end of the first week in May, the _a-onk_ of these birds is nolonger heard. The mallard, gadwall, widgeon, pintail, the variousspecies of pochard and the common teal are rapidly disappearing. WithApril duck-shooting ends. Of the migratory species only a fewshovellers and garganey teal tarry till May. 

The snipe and the quail are likewise flighting towards their breedinggrounds. Thus on the 1st of May the avian population of India is lessby many millions than it was at the beginning of April. But the birdsthat remain behind more than compensate us, by their great activity, for the loss of those that have departed. There is more to interestthe ornithologist in April than there was in January. 

The bird chorus is now at its best. The magpie-robin is in full song. At earliest dawn he takes up a position on the topmost bough of a treeand pours forth his melody in a continuous stream. His varied notesare bright and joyous. Its voice is of wide compass and very powerful;were it a little softer in tone it would rival that of thenightingale. The magpie-robin is comparatively silent at noonday, butfrom sunset until dusk he sings continuously. 

Throughout April the little cock sunbirds deliver themselves of theirvigorous canary-like song. The bulbuls tinkle as blithely as ever. Ioras, pied wagtails, pied chats, and wood-shrikes continue tocontribute their not unworthy items to the minstrelsy of the Indiancountryside. The robins, having by now found their true notes, aresinging sweetly and softly. The white-eyes are no longer content toutter their usual cheeping call, the cocks give vent to an exquisitewarble and thereby proclaim the advent of the nesting season. The_towee_, _towee_, _towee_, of the tailor-bird, more penetrating thanmelodious, grows daily more vigorous, reminding us that we may nowhopefully search for his nest. Among the less pleasing sounds thatfill the welkin are the _tonk_, _tonk_, _tonk_ of the coppersmith, the_kutur_, _kutur_, _kuturuk_ of the green barbet, and the calls of thevarious cuckoos that summer in the plains of Northern India. The callsof these cuckoos, although frequently heard in April, are uttered morecontinuously in May, accordingly they are described in the calendarfor that month. 

The owls, of course, lift up their voices, particularly on moonlightnights. The nightjars are as vociferous as they were in March; theirbreeding season is now at its height. 

In the hills the woods resound with the cheerful double note of theEuropean cuckoo (_Cuculus canorus_). This bird is occasionally heardin the plains of the Punjab in April, and again from July toSeptember, when it no longer calls in the Himalayas. This fact, coupled with the records of the presence of the European cuckoo inCentral India in June and July, lends support to the theory that thebirds which enliven the Himalayas in spring go south in July andwinter in the Central Provinces. Cuckoos, at seasons when they aresilent, are apt to be overlooked, or mistaken for shikras. 

Ornithologists stationed in Central India will render a service toscience if they keep a sharp look-out for European cuckoos and recordthe results of their observations. In this way alone can the abovetheory be proved or disproved. 

By the middle of the month most of the rollers have settled down todomestic duties, and in consequence are less noisy than they were whencourting. Their irritating grating cries are now largely replaced byharsh _tshocks_ of delight, each _tshock_ being accompanied by adecisive movement of the tail. The cause of these interjectionsexpressing delight is a clutch of white eggs or a brood of youngbirds, hidden in a hole in a tree or a building. 

April is a month in which the pulse of bird life beats very vigorouslyin India. He who, braving the heat, watches closely the doings of thefeathered folk will be rewarded by the discovery of at least thirtydifferent kinds of nests. Hence, it is evident that the calendar forthis month, unless it is to attain very large dimensions, must be amere catalogue of nesting species. The compiler of the calendar has toface an _embarrass de richesses_. 

Of the common species that build in March and the previous months thefollowing are likely to be found with eggs or young--the jungle crows, sunbirds, doves, pied and golden-backed woodpeckers, coppersmiths, hoopoes, common and brahminy kites, bulbuls, shrikes, little minivets, fantail flycatchers, wire-tailed swallows, paroquets, spotted owlets, swifts, scavenger vultures, red-headed merlins, skylarks, crestedlarks, pipits, babblers, sand-martins, cliff-swallows, nuthatches, white-eyed buzzards, kites, black vultures, pied and white-breastedkingfishers, finch-larks, Indian wren-warblers, wood-shrikes, cuckoo-shrikes, green barbets, tawny eagles, and the terns and theother birds that nest on islets in rivers. Here and there may be seena white-backed vulture's nest containing a young bird nearly ready tofly. 

Towards the middle of the month the long-tailed tree-pies(_Dendrocitta rufa_), which are nothing else than coloured crows, begin nest-building. They are to be numbered among the commonest birdsin India, nevertheless their large open nests are rarely seen. Theexplanation of this phenomenon appears to be the fact that the nest iswell concealed high up in a tree. Moreover, the pie, possessing apowerful beak which commands respect, is not obliged constantly todefend its home after the manner of small or excitable birds, and thusattract attention to it. 

Fortunately for the tree-pie the kites and crows do not worry it. Theshikra (_Astur badius_) and the white-eyed buzzard (_Butastur teesa_), which are now engaged in nest-building, are not so fortunate. Thecrows regard them as fair game, hence their nest-building season is atime of _sturm und drang_. They, in common with all diurnal birds ofprey, build untidy nests in trees--mere conglomerations of sticks, devoid of any kind of architectural merit. The blue rock-pigeons(_Columba intermedia_) are busily prospecting for nesting sites. Insome parts of India, especially in the Muttra and Fatehgarh districts, these birds nest chiefly in holes in wells. More often than not astone thrown into a well in such a locality causes at least one pigeonto fly out of the well. In other places in India these birds build bypreference on a ledge or a cornice inside some large building. Theyoften breed in colonies. At Dig in Rajputana, where they are sacred inthe eyes of Hindus, thousands of them nest in the fort, and, as Humeremarks, a gun fired in the moat towards evening raises a dense cloudof pigeons, "obscuring utterly the waning day and deafening one withthe mighty rushing sound of countless strong and rapidly-pliedpinions. " According to Hume the breeding season for these birds inUpper India lasts from Christmas to May day. The experience of thewriter is that April, May and June are the months in which to look fortheir nests. However, in justice to Hume, it must be said thatrecently Mr. A. J. Currie found a nest, containing eggs, in February. 

In April the green pigeons pair and build slender cradles, high up inmango trees, in which two white eggs are laid. 

The songster of the house-top--the brown rock-chat (_Cercomelafusca_)--makes sweet music throughout the month for the benefit of hisspouse, who is incubating four pretty pale-blue eggs in a nest builton a ledge in an outhouse or on the sill of a clerestory window. Thisbird, which is thought by some to be a near relative of the sparrow ofthe Scriptures, is clothed in plain brown and seems to suffer from St. Vitus' dance in the tail. Doubtless it is often mistaken for a henrobin. For this mistake there is no excuse, because the rock-chatlacks the brick-red patch under the tail. 

April is the month in which to look for two exquisite littlenests--those of the white-eye (_Zosterops palpebrosa_) and the iora(_Aegithina tiphia_). White-eyes are minute greenish-yellow birds witha conspicuous ring of white feathers round the eye. They go about inflocks. Each individual utters unceasingly a plaintive cheeping noteby means of which it keeps its fellows apprised of its whereabouts. Atthe breeding season, that is to say in April and May, the cock singsan exceedingly sweet, but very soft, lay of six or seven notes. Thenest is a cup, about 2-1/2 inches in diameter and 3/4 of an inch indepth. It is usually suspended, like a hammock, from the fork of abranch; sometimes it is attached to the end of a single bough; it thenlooks like a ladle, the bough being the handle. It is composed ofcobweb, roots, hair and other soft materials. Three or four tinypale-blue eggs are laid. 

The iora is a feathered exquisite, about the size of a tomtit. Thecock is arrayed in green, black and gold; his mate is gowned in greenand yellow. 

The iora has a great variety of calls, of these a soft and ratherplaintive long-drawn-out whistle is uttered most frequently in Apriland May. 

In shape and size the nest resembles an after-dinner coffee cup. It isbeautifully woven, and, like those of the white-eye and fantailflycatcher, covered with cobweb; this gives it a very neat appearance. In it are laid two or three eggs of salmon hue with reddish-brown andpurple-grey blotches. 

Throughout April the sprightly tailor-birds are busy with their nests. The tailor-bird (_Orthotomus sutorius_) is a wren with a long tail. Inthe breeding season the two median caudal feathers of the cock projectas bristles beyond the others. The nest is a wonderful structure. Having selected a suitable place, which may be a bush in a garden or apot plant in a verandah, the hen tailor-bird proceeds to make, withher sharp bill, a series of punctures along the margins of one or moreleaves. The punctured edges are then drawn together, by means ofstrands of cobweb, to form a purse or pocket. When this has been donethe frail bands of cobweb, which hold the edges of the leaves _insitu_, are strengthened by threads of cotton. Lastly, the purse iscosily lined with silk-cotton down or other soft material. Into thecradle, thus formed, three or four white eggs, speckled with red, findtheir way. 

In April cavities in trees and buildings suitable for nesting purposesare at a premium owing to the requirements of magpie-robins, brahminymynas, common mynas, yellow-throated sparrows and rollers. Notuncommonly three or four pairs of birds nest in one weather-beaten oldtree. 

Bank-mynas, white-breasted kingfishers, bee-eaters and a few belatedsand-martins are nesting in sandbanks in cavities which theythemselves have excavated. The nests of the kingfisher and thesand-martin have already been described, that of the bank-myna belongsto May rather than to April. 

Bee-eaters working at the nest present a pleasing spectacle. The sexesexcavate turn about. The site chosen may be a bunker on the golflinks, the butts on the rifle range, a low mud boundary between twofields, or any kind of bank. The sharp claws of the bee-eaters enablethe birds to obtain a foothold on an almost vertical surface; thisfoothold is strengthened by the tail which, being stiff, acts as athird leg. In a surprisingly short time a cavity large enough toconceal the bird completely is formed. The bee-eater utilises the billas pickaxe and the feet as ejectors. The little clouds of sand thatissue at short intervals from each cavity afford evidence of theefficacy of these implements and the industry of those that use them. 

Two of the most charming birds in India are now occupied with familycares. These are both black-and-white birds--the magpie-robin(_Copsychus saularis_) and the pied wagtail (_Motacillamaderaspatensis_). The former has already been noticed as the bestsongster in the plains of India. The pattern of its plumage resemblesthat of the common magpie; this explains its English name. The hen isgrey where the cock is black, otherwise there is no externaldifference between the sexes. For some weeks the cock has been singinglustily, especially in the early morning and late afternoon. In Aprilhe begins his courtship. His display is a simple affair--meretail-play; the tail is expanded into a fan, so as to show the whiteouter feathers, then it is either raised and lowered alternately, ormerely held depressed. Normally the tail is carried almost vertically. The nest is invariably placed in a cavity of a tree or a building. 

The pied wagtail always nests near water. If not on the ground, thenursery rests on some structure built by man. 

A visit to a bridge of boats in April is sure to reveal a nest of thischarming bird. Hume records a case of a pair of pied wagtails nestingin a ferry-boat. This, it is true, was seldom used, but didoccasionally cross the Jumna. On such occasions the hen would continueto sit, while the cock stood on the gunwale, pouring forth his sweetsong, and made, from time to time, little sallies over the water aftera flying gnat. Mr. A. J. Currie found at Lahore a nest of thesewagtails in a ferry-boat in daily use; so that the birds must haveselected the site and built the nest while the boat was passing to andfro across the river!

Yet another black-and-white bird nests in April. This is the piedbush-chat (_Pratincola caprata_). The cock is black all over, save fora white patch on the rump and a bar of white in the wing. He delightsto sit on a telegraph wire or a stem of elephant grass and there makecheerful melody. The hen is a dull reddish-grey bird. The nest isusually placed in a hole in the ground or a bank or a wall, sometimesit is wedged into a tussock of grass. 

Allied to the magpie-robin and the pied bush-chat is the familiarIndian robin (_Thamnobia cambayensis_), which, like its relatives, isnow engaged in nesting operations. This species constructs itscup-shaped nest in all manner of strange places. Spaces in stacks ofbricks, holes in the ground or in buildings, and window-sills are heldin high esteem as nesting sites. The eggs are not easy to describebecause they display great variation. The commonest type has a palegreen shell, speckled with reddish-brown spots, which are most denselydistributed at the thick end of the egg. 

Many of the grey partridges (_Francolinus pondicerianus_) are nownesting. This species is somewhat erratic in respect of its breedingseason. Eggs have been taken in February, March, April, May, June, September, October, and November. The April eggs, however, outnumberthose of all the other months put together. The nest is a shallowdepression in the ground, lined with grass, usually under a bush. Fromsix to nine cream-coloured eggs are laid. 

Another bird which is now incubating eggs on the ground is thedid-he-do-it or red-wattled lapwing (_Sarcogrammus indicus_). Thecurious call, from which this plover derives its popular name, isfamiliar to every resident in India. This species nests between Marchand August. The 122 eggs in the possession of Hume were taken, 12 inMarch, 46 in April, 24 in May, 26 in June, 4 in July, and 8 in August. Generally in a slight depression on the ground, occasionally on theballast of a rail-road, four pegtop-shaped eggs are laid; these are, invariably, placed in the form of a cross, so that they touch eachother at their thin ends. They are coloured like those of the commonplover. The yellow-wattled lapwing (_Sarciophorus malabaricus_), whichresembles its cousin in manners and appearance, nests in April, Mayand June. 

The nesting season of the various species of sand-grouse that breed inIndia is now beginning. These birds, like lapwings, lay their eggs onthe ground. 

In April one may come across an occasional nest of the pied starling, the king-crow, the paradise flycatcher, the grey hornbill, and theoriole, but these are exceptions. The birds in question do not as arule begin to nest until May, and their doings accordingly arechronicled in the calendar for that month. 

MAY

 The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year. _The Minstrelsy of the Woods_. 

 Low from the brink the waters shrink; The deer all snuff for rain; The panting cattle search for drink Cracked glebe and dusty plain; The whirlwind, like a furnace blast, Sweeps clouds of darkening sand. WATERFIELD, _Indian Ballads_. 

 Now the burning summer sun Hath unchalleng'd empire won And the scorching winds blow free, Blighting every herb and tree. R. T. H. GRIFFITH. 

May in the plains of India! What unpleasant memories it recalls!Stifling nights in which sleep comes with halting steps and departsleaving us unrefreshed. Long, dreary days beneath the punkah in aclosed bungalow which has ceased to be enlivened by the voices of thechildren and the patter of their little feet. Hot drives to office, under a brazen sky from which the sun shines with pitiless power, inthe teeth of winds that scorch the face and fill the eyes with dust. 

It is in this month of May that the European condemned to existence inthe plains echoes the cry of the psalmist: "Oh that I had wings like adove! for then would I fly away, and be at rest"--in the Himalayas. There would I lie beneath the deodars and, soothed by the rustle oftheir wind-caressed branches, drink in the pure cool air and listen tothe cheerful double note of the cuckoo. The country-side in the plainspresents a sorry spectacle. The gardens that had some beauty in thecold weather now display the abomination of desolation--a waste ofshrivelled flowers, killed by the relentless sun. The spring cropshave all been cut and the whole earth is dusty brown save for a fewpatches of young sugar-cane and the dust-covered verdure of the mangotopes. It is true that the gold-mohur trees and the Indian laburnumsare in full flower and the air is heavily laden with the strong scentof the _nim_ blossoms, but the heat is so intense that the European isable to enjoy these gifts of nature only at dawn. Nor has the ripeningjack-fruit any attractions for him. He is repelled by its overpoweringscent and sickly flavour. Fortunately the tastes of all men are notalike. In the eyes of the Indian this fruit is a dish fit to be setbefore the gods. The _pipal_ trees, which are covered with tenderyoung leaves, now offer to the birds a feast in the form of numbers offigs, no larger than cranberries. This generous offer is greedilyaccepted by green pigeons, mynas and many other birds which partakewith right goodwill and make much noise between the courses. No matterhow intense the heat be, the patient cultivator issues forth with hiscattle before sunrise and works at his threshing floor until teno'clock, then he seeks the comparative coolness of the mango tope andsleeps until the sun is well on its way to the western horizon, whenhe resumes the threshing of the corn, not ceasing until the shades ofnight begin to steal over the land. 

The birds do not object to the heat. They revel in it. It is true thatin the middle of the day even they seek some shady tree in which toenjoy a siesta and await the abatement of the heat of the blastfurnace in which they live, move and have their being. The long day, which begins for them before 4 a. M. , rather than the intense heat, appears to be the cause of this midday sleep. Except during thisperiod of rest at noon the birds are more lively than they were inApril. 

The breeding season is now at its height. In May over five hundredspecies of birds nest in India. No individual is likely to come acrossall these different kinds of nests, because, in order to do so, thatperson would have to traverse India from Peshawar to Tinnevelly andfrom Quetta to Tenasserim. Nevertheless, the man who remains in onestation, if he choose to put forth a little energy and defy the sun, may reasonably expect to find the nests of more than fifty kinds ofbirds. Whether he be energetic or the reverse he cannot fail to hear agreat many avian sounds both by day and by night. In May the birds aremore vociferous than at any other time of year. The fluty cries of thekoel and the vigorous screams of the brain-fever bird penetrate theclosed doors of the bungalow, as do, to a less extent, the chatter ofthe seven sisters, the calls of the mynas, the _towee_, _towee_, _towee_ of the tailor-bird, the _whoot_, _whoot_, _whoot_ of thecrow-pheasant, the monotonous notes of the coppersmith and the greenbarbet, the _uk_, _uk_, _uk_ of the hoopoe, the cheerful music of thefantail flycatcher, the three sweet syllables of the iora--_so be ye_, the _tee_, _tee_, _tee_, _tee_ of the nuthatch, the liquid whistle ofthe oriole and, last but not least, the melody of the magpie-robin. The calls of the hoopoe and nuthatch become less frequent as the monthdraws to a close; on the other hand, the melody of the oriole gains instrength. 

As likely as not a pair of blue jays has elected to rear a brood ofyoung hopefuls in the chimney or in a hole in the roof. When thishappens the human occupant of the bungalow is apt to be driven nearlyto distraction by the cries of the young birds, which resemble thoseof some creature in distress, and are uttered with "damnablereiteration. "

All these sounds, however, reach in muffled form the ear of a humanbeing shut up in a bungalow; hence it is the voices of the nightrather than those of the day with which May in India is associated. Most people sleep out of doors at this season, and, as the excessiveheat makes them restless, they have ample opportunity of listening tothe nightly concert of the feathered folk. The most notable performersare the cuckoos. These birds are fully as nocturnal as the owls. Thebrain-fever bird (_Hierococcyx varius_) is now in full voice, and maybe heard, both by day and by night, in all parts of Northern India, east of Umballa. This creature has two calls. One is the eternal"brain-fever, _brain-fever_, BRAIN-FEVER, " each "brain-fever" beinglouder and pitched in a higher key than the previous one, until thebird reaches its top note. The other call consists of a volley ofdescending notes, uttered as if the bird were unwinding its voiceafter the screams of "brain-fever. " The next cuckoo is not one whitless vociferous than the last. It is known as the Indian koel(_Eudynamis honorata_). This noble fowl has three calls, and it wouldpuzzle anyone to say which is the most powerful. The usual cry is acrescendo _ku-il_, _ku-il_, _ku-il_, which to Indian ears is verysweet-sounding. Most Europeans are agreed that it is a sound of whichone can have too much. The second note is a mighty avalanche of yellsand screams, which Cunningham has syllabised as _Kuk_, _kuu_, _kuu_, _kuu_, _kuu_, _kuu_. The third cry, which is uttered onlyoccasionally, is a number of shrill shrieks: _Hekaree_, _karee_, _karee_, _karee_. 

The voice of the koel is heard throughout the hours of light anddarkness in May, so that one wonders whether this bird ever sleeps. The second call is usually reserved for dawn, when the bird is mostvociferous. This cry is particularly exasperating to Europeans, sinceit often awakens them rudely from the only refreshing sleep they haveenjoyed, namely, that obtained at the time when the temperature iscomparatively low. The koel extends into the Punjab and is heardthroughout Northern India. 

The third of the cuckoos which enlivens the hot weather in the plainsis the Indian cuckoo (_Cuculus micropterus_). This species dwellschiefly in the Himalayas, but late in April or early in May certainindividuals seek the hot plains and remain there for some months. Theydo not extend very far into the peninsula, being numerous only in thesub-Himalayan tracts as far south as Fyzabad. The call of this cuckoois melodious and easily recognised. Indians represent it as_Bouto-taku_, while some Englishmen maintain that the bird says "I'velost my love. " To the writer's mind the cry is best represented by thewords _wherefore_, _wherefore_, repeated with musical cadence. Thisbird does not usually call much during the day. It uplifts its voiceabout two hours before sunset and continues calling intermittentlyuntil some time after sunrise. The note is often uttered while thebird is on the wing. 

Scarcely less vociferous than the cuckoos are the owls. Needless tostate that the tiny spotted owlets make a great noise in May. They areloquacious throughout the year, especially on moonlight nights. Nor dothey wait for the setting of the sun until they commence to pour forthwhat Eha terms a "torrent of squeak and chatter and gibberish. "

Almost as abundant as the spotted owlet is the jungle owlet(_Glaucidium radiatum_). This species, like the last-mentioned, doesnot confine its vocal efforts to the hot weather. It is vociferousthroughout the year; however, special mention must be made of it inconnection with the month of May, because it is not until a humanbeing sleeps out of doors that he takes much notice of the bird. 

The note of this owl is very striking. It may be likened to the noisemade by a motor cycle when it is being started. It consists of aseries of dissyllables, low at first with a pause after each, butgradually growing in intensity and succeeding one another at shorterintervals, until the bird seems to have got fairly into its stride, when it pulls up with dramatic suddenness. Tickell thus syllabises itscall: _Turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _tukatu_, _chatatuck_, _atuckatuck_. 

Another sound familiar to those who sleep out of doors at this seasonis a low, soft "what, " repeated at intervals of about a minute. 

The writer ascribes this call to the collared scops owl (_Scopsbakkamoena_). Mr. A. J. Currie, however, asserts that the note inquestion is that emitted by spotted owlets (_Athene brama_) when theyhave young. He states that he has been quite close to the bird when itwas calling. 

A little patient observation will suffice to decide the point atissue. 

It is easy to distinguish between the two owls, as the scops hasaigrettes or "horns, " which the spotted owlet lacks. 

The nightjars help to swell the nocturnal chorus. There are seven oreight different species in India, but of these only three are commonlyheard and two of them occur mainly in forest tracts. The call of themost widely-distributed of the Indian goatsuckers--_Caprimulgusasiaticus_, the common Indian nightjar--is like unto the sound made bya stone skimming over ice. Horsfield's goatsucker is a very vociferousbird. From March till June it is heard wherever there are forests. Assoon as the shadows of the evening begin to steal across the sky itsloud _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_ cleaves the air forminutes together. This call to some extent replaces by night the_tonk_, _tonk_, _tonk_ of the coppersmith, which is uttered sopersistently in the day-time. In addition to this note Horsfield'snightjar emits a low soft _chur_, _chur_, _chur_. 

The third nightjar, which also is confined chiefly to forest tracts, is known as Franklin's nightjar (_C. Monticolus_). This utters a harsh_tweet_ which at a distance might pass for the chirp of a canary witha sore throat. 

Other sounds heard at night-time are the plaintive _did-he-do-itpity-to-do-it_ of the red-wattled lapwing (_Sarcogrammus indicus_), and the shrill calls of other plovers. 

As has already been said, the nesting season is at its height in May. With the exception of the paroquets, spotted owlets, nuthatches, blackvultures and pied kingfishers, which have completed nesting operationsfor the year, and the golden-backed woodpeckers and thecliff-swallows, which have reared up their first broods, the greatmajority of the birds mentioned as having nests or young in March orApril are still busily occupied with domestic cares. 

May marks the close of the usual breeding season for the jungle crows, skylarks, crested larks, finch-larks, wood-shrikes, yellow-throatedsparrows, sand-martins, pied wagtails, green barbets, coppersmiths, rollers, green bee-eaters, white-breasted kingfishers, scavengervultures, tawny eagles, kites, shikras, spur-winged plovers, littleringed plovers, pied woodpeckers, night herons and pied chats. In thecase of the tree-pies, cuckoo-shrikes, seven sisters, bank-mynas andblue-tailed bee-eaters the nesting season is now at its height. Allthe following birds are likely to have either eggs or nestlings inMay: the white-eyes, ioras, bulbuls, tailor-birds, shrikes, brownrock-chats, Indian robins, magpie-robins, sunbirds, swifts, nightjars, white-eyed buzzards, hoopoes, green pigeons, blue rock-pigeons, doves, sparrows, the red and yellow wattled lapwings, minivets, wire-tailedswallows, red-headed merlins, fantail flycatchers, pipits, sand-grouseand grey partridges. The nests of most of these have been describedalready. 

In the present month several species begin nesting operations. Firstand foremost among these is the king-crow or black drongo (_Dicrurusater_). No bird, not even the roller, makes so much ado aboutcourtship and nesting as does the king-crow, of which the love-makingwas described last month. A pair of king-crows regards as its castlethe tree in which it has elected to construct a nest. Round this treeit establishes a sphere of influence into which none but a favouredfew birds may come. All intruders are forthwith set upon by the pairof little furies, and no sight is commoner at this season than that ofa crow, a kite, or a hawk being chased by two irate drongos. The nestof the king-crow is a small cup, wedged into the fork of a branch highup in a tree. 

The Indian oriole (_Oriolus kundoo_) is one of the privilegedcreatures allowed to enter the dicrurian sphere of influence, and ittakes full advantage of this privilege by placing its nest almostinvariably in the same tree as that of the king-crow. The oriole is atimid bird and is glad to rear up its family under the aegis of sodoughty a warrior as the Black Prince of the Birds. The nest of theoriole is a wonderful structure. Having selected a fork in a suitablebranch, the nesting bird tears off a long strip of soft pliable bark, usually that of the mulberry tree. It proceeds to wind one end of thisstrip round a limb of the forked branch, then the other end issimilarly bound to the other limb. A second and a third strip of barkare thus dealt with, and in this manner a cradle or hammock is formed. On it a slender cup-shaped nest is superimposed. This is composed ofgrasses and fibres, some of which are wound round the limbs of theforked branch, while others are made fast to the strands of bark. Thecompleted nest is nearly five inches in diameter. From below it lookslike a ball of dried grass wedged into the forked branch. 

The oriole lays from two to four white eggs spotted with dull red. Thespots can be washed off by water; sometimes their colour "runs" whilethey are in the nest, thereby imparting a pink hue to the whole shell. Both sexes take part in nest construction, but the hen alone appearsto incubate. She is a very shy creature, and is rarely discoveredactually sitting, because she leaves the nest with a little cry ofalarm at the first sound of a human footfall. 

May and June are the months in which to look for the nests of thatsuperb bird--the paradise flycatcher (_Terpsiphone paradisi_). This isknown as the rocket-bird or ribbon-bird because of the two longfluttering tail feathers possessed by the cock. The hen has theappearance of a kind of bulbul, being chestnut-hued with a whitebreast and a metallic blue-black crest. For the first year of theirexistence the young cocks resemble the hens in appearance. Then thelong tail feathers appear. In his third year the cock turns white savefor the black-crested head. This species spends the winter in SouthIndia. In April it migrates northwards to summer in the shady parts ofthe plains of Bengal, the United Provinces and the Punjab, and on thelower slopes of the Himalayas. The nest is a deep, untidy-looking cup, having the shape of an inverted cone. It is always completely coveredwith cocoons and cobweb. It is usually attached to one or more of thelower branches of a tree. Both sexes work at the nest and take part inincubation. The long tail feathers of the sitting cock hang down fromthe nest like red or white satin streamers according to the phase ofhis plumage. In the breeding season the cock sings a sweet littlelay--an abridged version of that of the fantail flycatcher. Whenalarmed both the cock and the hen utter a sharp _tschit_. 

May is perhaps the proper month in which to describe the nesting ofthe various species of myna. 

According to Hume the normal breeding season of the common myna(_Acridotheres tristis_) lasts from June to August, during whichperiod two broods are reared. This is not correct. The nesting seasonof this species begins long before June. The writer has repeatedlyseen mynas carrying twigs and feathers in March, and has come acrossnests containing eggs or young birds in both April and May. Juneperhaps is the month in which the largest numbers of nests are seen. The cradle of the common myna is devoid of architectural merit. It isa mere conglomeration of twigs, grass, rags, bits of paper and otheroddments. The nesting material is dropped haphazard into a hole in atree or building, or even on to a ledge in a verandah. Four beautifulblue eggs are laid. 

At Peshawar Mr. A. J. Currie once found four myna's eggs in a desertedcrows' nest in a tree. 

As has already been stated, the nest of the bank-myna (_A. Ginginianus_) is built in a hole in a well, a sandbank, or a cliff. The birds breed in colonies; each pair excavates its own nest by meansof beak and claw. Into the holes dug out in this manner themiscellaneous nesting materials are dropped pell-mell after the mannerof all mynas. The breeding season of this species lasts from April toJuly, May being the month in which most eggs are laid. 

The black-headed or brahminy myna (_Temenuchus pagodarum_) usuallybegins nesting operations about a month later than the bank-myna; itseggs are most often taken in June. The nest, which is an untidy, odoriferous collection of rubbish, is always in a cavity. In NorthernIndia a hole in a tree is usually selected; in the South buildings arelargely patronised. Some years ago the writer observed a pair of thesebirds building a nest in a hole made in the masonry for the passage ofthe lightning conductor of the Church in Fort St. George, Madras. 

May marks the commencement of the breeding season of the piedstarlings (_Sturnopastor contra_). In this month they begin to givevent with vigour to their cheerful call, which is so pleasing asalmost to merit the name of song. 

Throughout the rains they continue to make a joyful noise. Not thatthey are silent at other seasons; they call throughout the year, but, except at the breeding period, their voices are comparatively subdued. 

The nest is a bulky, untidy mass of straw, roots, twigs, rags, feathers and such-like things. It is placed fairly low down in a tree. 

Many of these nests are to be seen in May, but the breeding season isat its height in June and July. 

The grey hornbills (_Lophoceros birostris_) are now seeking out holesin which to deposit their eggs. The hen, after having laid the firstegg, does not emerge from the nest till the young are ready to fly. During the whole of this period she is kept a close prisoner, theaperture to the nest cavity having been closed by her mate and herselfwith their own droppings, a small chink alone being left through whichshe is able to insert her beak in order to receive the food brought toher by the cock. 

Mr. A. J. Currie gives an interesting account of a grey hornbill'snest he discovered at Lahore in 1910. About the middle of April henoticed a pair of paroquets nesting in a hole in a tree. On April 28thhe saw a hornbill inspecting the hole, regardless of the noisyprotests of the paroquets. On the 30th he observed that the hole hadbecome smaller, and suspected that the hornbills had taken possession. On May 1st all that was left of the hole was a slit. On May 6th Mr. Currie watched the cock hornbill feeding the hen. First the male birdcame carrying a fig in his bill. Seeing human beings near the nest, hedid not give the fig to the hen but swallowed it and flew off. Presently the cock reappeared with a fig which he put into the slit inthe plastering; after he had parted with the fig he began to feed thehen by bringing up food from his crop. During the process the beak ofthe hen did not appear at the slit. 

On May 7th Mr. Currie opened out the nest. The hole was sixteen feetfrom the ground and the orifice had a diameter of three inches; all ofthis except a slit, broadest at the lower part, was filled up byplaster. This plaster was odourless and contained embedded in it anumber of fig seeds. 

The nest hole was capacious, its dimensions being roughly 1 foot by 1foot by 2 feet. From the bottom five handfuls of pieces of dry barkwere extracted. Three white eggs were found lying on these pieces ofbark. The sitting hen resented the "nest-breaking, " and, having peckedviciously at the intruder, tried to escape by climbing up to the topof the nest hole. She was dragged out of her retreat by the beak, after an attempt to pull her out by the tail had resulted in all hertail feathers coming away in her captor's hand!

The young green parrots have all left their nests and are flying aboutin noisy flocks. They may be distinguished from the adults by theshort tail and comparatively soft call. 

Most pairs of hoopoes are now accompanied by at least one young birdwhich is almost indistinguishable from the adults. The young birdsreceive, with squeaks of delight, the grubs or caterpillars profferedby the parents. Occasionally a pair of hoopoes may be seen goingthrough the antics of courtship preparatory to raising a second brood. 

In scrub-jungle parties of partridges, consisting of father, motherand five or six little chicks, wander about. 

As the shades of night begin to fall family parties of spotted owletsissue from holes in trees or buildings. The baby birds squat on theground in silence, while the parents make sallies into the air afterflying insects which they bring to the young birds. 

The peafowl and sarus cranes are indulging in the pleasures ofcourtship. The young cranes, that were hatched out in the monsoon oflast year, are now nearly as big as their parents, and are well ableto look after themselves; ere long they will be driven away and madeto do so. The display of the sarus is not an elaborate process. Thecock turns his back on the hen and then partially opens his wings, sothat the blackish primaries droop and the grey secondary feathers arearched. In this attitude he trumpets softly. 

The water-hens have already begun their uproarious courtship. Theirweird calls must be heard to be appreciated. They consist of series of_kok_, _koks_ followed by roars, hiccups, cackles and gurgles. 

Black partridges, likewise, are very noisy throughout the month ofMay. Their nesting season is fast approaching. 

Even as April showers in England bring forth May flowers, so does theApril sunshine in India draw forth the marriage adornments of thebirds that breed in the rains. The pheasant-tailed jacanas areacquiring the long tail feathers that form the wedding ornaments ofboth sexes. 

The various species of egret and the paddy bird all assume theirnuptial plumes in May. 

In the case of the egret these plumes are in great demand and areknown to the plumage trade as "ospreys. "

The plumes in question consist of long filamentous feathers that growfrom the neck of the egret and also from its breast. In most countriesthose who obtain these plumes wait until the birds are actuallynesting before attempting to secure them, taking advantage of the factthat egrets nest in colonies and of the parental affection of thebreeding birds. A few men armed with guns are able to shoot everyadult member of the colony, because the egrets continue to feed theiryoung until they are shot. As the plumes of these birds are worthnearly their weight in gold, egrets have become extinct in some partsof the world. 

The export of plumage from India is unlawful, but this fact does notprevent a very large feather trade being carried on, since it is notdifficult to smuggle "ospreys" out of the country. 

Doubtless the existing Notification of the Government of India, prohibiting the export of plumage, has the effect of checking, to someextent, the destruction of egrets, but there is no denying the factthat many of the larger species are still shot for their plumes whilebreeding. 

In the case of cattle-egrets (_Bubulcus coromandus_) the custom ofshooting them when on the nest has given place to a more humane andmore sensible method of obtaining their nuchal plumes. These, as wehave seen, arise early in May, but the birds do not begin to nestuntil the end of June. The cattle-egret is gregarious; it is the largewhite bird that accompanies cattle in order to secure the insects putup by the grazing quadrupeds. Taking advantage of the social habits ofthese egrets the plume-hunters issue forth early in May and betakethemselves, in parties of five or six, to the villages where the birdsroost. Their apparatus consists of two nets, each some eight feet longand three broad. These are laid flat on the ground in shallow water, parallel to one another, about a yard apart. The inner side of eachnet is securely pegged to the ground. By an ingenious arrangement ofsticks and ropes a man, taking cover at a distance of twenty or thirtyyards, by giving a sharp pull at a pliable cane, can cause the outerparts of each net to spring up and meet to form an enclosure which is, in shape, not unlike a sleeping-pal tent. When the nets have been setin a pond near the trees where the cattle-egrets roost at night andrest in the day-time, two or three decoy birds--captured egrets withtheir eyes sewn up to prevent them struggling or trying to flyaway--are tethered in the space between the two nets; these last, being laid flat under muddy water, are invisible. Sooner or later anegret in one of the trees near by, seeing some of its kind standingpeacefully in the water, alights near them. Almost before it hastouched the ground the cane is pulled and the egret finds itself aprisoner. One of the bird-catchers immediately runs to the net, secures the victim, opens out its wings, and, holding each of thesebetween the big and the second toe, pulls out the nuchal plumes. Thisoperation lasts about five seconds. The bird is then set at liberty, far more astonished than hurt. It betakes itself to its wildcompanions, and the net is again set. Presently another egret iscaught and divested of its plumes, and the process continues all day. 

The bird-catchers spend six weeks every year in obtaining cattle-egretplumes in this manner. They sell the plumes to middle-men, who disposeof them to those who smuggle them out of India. 

If stuffed birds were used as decoys and the plumes of the capturedbirds were snipped off with scissors instead of being pulled out, theoperation could be carried on without any cruelty, and, if legalisedand supervised by the Government, it could be made a source ofconsiderable revenue. 

JUNE

 'Tis raging noon; and, vertical, the sun Darts on the head direct his forceful rays; O'er heaven and earth, far as the ranging eye Can sweep, a dazzling deluge reigns; and all From pole to pole is undistinguish'd blaze. 

 * * * * *

 All-conquering heat, oh, intermit thy wrath, And on my throbbing temples potent thus Beam not so fierce! incessant still you flow, And still another fervent flood succeeds. Pour'd on the head profuse. In vain I sigh, * * * * *

 Thrice happy he who on the sunless side Of a romantic mountain, forest crown'd Beneath the whole collected shade reclines. J. THOMSON. 

 With dancing feet glad peafowl greet Bright flash and rumbling cloud; Down channels steep red torrents sweep; The frogs give welcome loud;

 * * * * *

 No stars in skies, but lantern-flies Seem stars that float to earth. WATERFIELD, _Indian Ballads_. 

There are two Indian Junes--the June of fiction and the June of fact. The June of fiction is divided into two equal parts--the dry half andthe wet half. The former is made up of hot days, dull with dust haze, when the shade temperature may reach 118 degrees, and of oppressivenights when the air is still and stagnant and the mercury in thethermometer rarely falls below 84 degrees. Each succeeding period offour-and-twenty hours seems more disagreeable and unbearable than itspredecessor, until the climax is reached about the 15th June, whenlarge black clouds appear on the horizon and roll slowly onwards, accompanied by vivid lightning, loud peals of thunder and torrentialrain. In the June of fact practically the whole month is composed ofhot, dry, dusty, oppressive days; for the monsoon rarely reachesNorthern India before the last week of the month and often tarriestill the middle of July, or even later. 

The first rain causes the temperature to fall immediately. It is nouncommon thing for the mercury in the thermometer to sink 20 degreesin a few minutes. While the rain is actually descending the weatherfeels refreshingly cool in contrast to the previous furnace-like heat. Small wonder then that the advent of the creative monsoon is moreheartily welcomed in India than is spring in England. No sound is morepleasing to the human ear than the drumming of the first monsoon rain. 

But alas! the physical relief brought by the monsoon is onlytemporary. The temperature rises the moment the rain ceases to fall, and the prolonged breaks in the rains that occur every year render thelast state of the climate worse than the first. The air is so chargedwith moisture that it cannot absorb the perspiration that emanatesfrom the bodies of the human beings condemned to existence in thishumid Inferno. For weeks together we live in a vapour-bath, and to thephysical discomfort of perpetual clamminess is added the irritation ofprickly heat. 

Moreover, the rain brings with it myriads of torments in the form oftermites, beetles, stinking bugs, flies, mosquitoes and other creepingand flying things, which bite and tease and find their way into everyarticle of food and drink. The rain also awakens from their slumbersthe frogs that have hibernated and aestivated in the sun-baked beds ofdried-up ditches and tanks. These awakened amphibia fill the welkinwith their croakings, which take the place of the avian chorus atnight. The latter ceases with dramatic abruptness with the first fallof monsoon rain. During the monsoon the silence of the night is brokenonly by the sound of falling raindrops, or the croaking of the frogs, the stridulation of crickets innumerable, and the owlet's feeble call. Before the coming of the monsoon the diurnal chorus of the day birdsbegins to flag because the nesting season for many species is drawingto a close. The magpie-robin still pours forth his splendid song, butthe quality of the music in the case of many individuals is alreadybeginning to fall off. The rollers, which are feeding their young, arefar less noisy than they were at the time of courtship. The barbetsand coppersmiths, although not so vociferous as formerly, cannot, evenin the monsoon, be charged with hiding their lights under a bushel. Towards the end of June the _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_, _chuk_ ofHorsfield's nightjar is not often heard, but the bird continues toutter its soft churring note. The iora's cheerful calls still resoundthrough the shady mango tope. The sunbirds, the fantail flycatchers, the orioles, the golden-backed woodpeckers, the white-breastedkingfishers and the black partridges call as lustily as ever, and thebulbuls continue to twitter to one another "stick to it!" With thefirst fall of rain the tunes of the paradise flycatchers and theking-crows change. The former now cry "Witty-ready wit, " softly andgently, while the calls of the latter suddenly become sweet andmellow. 

Speaking generally, the monsoon seems to exercise a sobering, asoftening influence on the voices of the birds. The pied myna formsthe one exception; he does not come into his full voice until therains have set in. 

The monsoon transfigures the earth. The brown, dry, hard countryside, with its dust-covered trees, becomes for the time being a shallow lakein which are studded emerald islets innumerable. Stimulated by therain many trees put forth fresh crops of leaves. At the first break inthe downpour the cultivators rush forth with their ploughs and oxen toprepare the soil for the autumn crops with all the speed they may. 

There is much to interest the ornithologist in June. 

Of the birds whose nests have been previously described the followingare likely to have eggs or young: white-eyes, ioras, tailor-birds, king-crows, robins, sparrows, tree-pies, seven sisters, cuckoo-shrikes, Indian wren-warblers (second brood), sunbirds (secondbrood), swifts, fantail flycatchers (second brood), orioles, paradiseflycatchers, grey horn-bills, and the various mynas, bulbuls, butcher-birds, doves, pigeons and lapwings. The following species haveyoung which either are in the nest or have only recently left it:roller, hoopoe, brown rock-chat, magpie-robin, coppersmith, greenbarbet, nightjar, white-eyed buzzard, pipit, wire-tailed swallow, white-breasted kingfisher, grey partridge, kite, golden-backedwoodpecker (second brood), and the several species of bee-eater andlark. 

With June the breeding season for the blue rock and green pigeonsends. In the _sal_ forests the young jungle-fowl have now mostlyhatched out and are following the old hens, or feeding independently. 

Some of the minivets are beginning to busy themselves with a secondbrood. 

The breeding operations of a few species begin in June. 

Chief of these is that arch-villain _Corvus splendens_--the Indianhouse-crow. Crows have no fine feathers, hence the cocks do not"display" before the hens. To sing they know not how. Their courtship, therefore, provides a feast for neither the eye nor the ear of man. The lack of ornaments and voice perhaps explains the fact that amongcrows there is no noisy love-making. Crows make a virtue of necessity. Any attempt at courtship after the style of the costermonger isresented by the whole corvine community. The only amorous displaypermitted in public is head-tickling. The cock and the hen perch sideby side, one ruffles the feathers of the neck, the other inserts itsbill between the ruffled feathers of its companion and gently ticklesits neck, to the accompaniment of soft gurgles. 

Crows are the most intelligent of birds. Like the other fowls of theair in which the brain is well developed, they build rough untidynests--mere platforms placed in the fork of a branch of almost anykind of tree. The usual materials used in nest-construction are twigs, but crows do not limit themselves to these. They seem to take apositive pride in pressing into service materials of an uncommonnature. Cases are on record of nests composed entirely ofspectacle-frames, wires used for the fixing of the corks of soda-waterbottles, or pieces of tin discarded by tinsmiths. 

Four, five or six eggs are laid; these are of a pale greenish-bluehue, speckled or flaked with sepia markings. The hen alone collectsthe materials for the nest, but the cock supervises her closely, following her about and criticising her proceedings as she picks uptwigs and works them into the nest. 

From the time of the laying of the first egg until the moment of thedeparture of the last young bird, one or other of the parents alwaysmounts guard over the nest, except when they are chasing a koel. Crowsare confirmed egg-lifters and chicken-stealers; they apply theirstandard of morality to other birds, and, in consequence, never leavetheir own offspring unguarded. A crow's nest at which there is noadult crow certainly contains neither eggs nor young birds. 

As has already been stated, crows spend, much time in teasing andannoying other birds. Retribution overtakes them in the nestingseason. The Indian koel (_Eudynamis honorata_) cuckolds them. Thecrows either are aware of this or have an instinctive dislike to thiscuckoo. The sight of the koel affects a crow in much the same way as ared cloth irritates a bull. One of these cuckoos has but to perch in atree that contains a crow's nest and begin calling in order to makeboth the owners of the nest attack him. The koel takes full advantageof this fact. The cock approaches the nest and begins uttering hisfluty _kuil_, _kuil_. The crows forthwith dash savagely at him. Heflies off pursued by them. He can easily outdistance his pursuers, butis content to keep a lead of a few feet, crying _pip-pip_ or_kuil-kuil_, and thus he lures the parent crows to some distance. Nosooner are their backs turned than the hen koel slips quietly into thenest and deposits an egg in it. If she have time she carries off orthrows out one or more of the legitimate eggs. When the crows returnto the nest, having failed to catch the cock koel, they do not appearto notice the trick played upon them, although the koel's egg issmaller than theirs and of an olive-green colour. Through the greaterpart of June and July the koels keep the crows busy chasing them. Something approaching pandemonium reigns in the neighbourhood of acolony of nesting crows: from dawn till nightfall the shrieks andyells of the koels mingle with the harsh notes of the crows. 

Sometimes the crows return from the chase of the cock koel before thehen is ready, and surprise her in the nest; then they attack her. Sheflees in terror, and is followed by the corvi. Her screams when beingthus pursued are loud enough to awaken the Seven Sleepers. She hascause for alarm, for, if the raging crows catch her, they willassuredly kill her. Such a tragedy does sometimes occur. 

Not infrequently it happens that more than one koel's egg is laid in acrow's nest. 

The incubation period of the egg of the koel is shorter than that ofthe crow, the consequence is that when, as usually happens, there isone of the former and several of the latter in a nest, the young koelis invariably the first to emerge. It does not attempt to eject fromthe nest either the legitimate eggs or the young crows when theyappear on the scene. Indeed, it lives on excellent terms with itsfoster brethren. But to say this is to anticipate, for as a rule, neither young koels nor baby crows hatch out until July. 

The crow-pheasants (_Centropus sinensis_), which are cuckoos that donot lead a parasitic existence, are now busy with nursery duties. Thenest of the crow-pheasant or coucal is a massive structure, globularin shape, with the entrance at one side. Large as the nest is, it isnot often discovered by the naturalist because it is almost invariablysituated in the midst of an impenetrable thicket. Three or fourpure-white eggs are laid. 

The white-necked storks or beef-steak birds (_Dissura episcopus_) arebusy at their nests in June. These birds build in large trees, usuallyat a distance from water. The nest is rudely constructed of twigs. Itis about one and a half feet in diameter. The eggs are placed in adepression lined with straw, grass or feathers. White-necked storksoften begin nest-building about the middle of May, but eggs are rarelylaid earlier than the second week of June. House-crows nest at thesame time of year, and they often worry the storks considerably bytheir impudent attempts to commit larceny of building material. 

The breeding season of the paddy-birds has now fairly begun. Thesebirds, usually so solitary in habit, often nest in small colonies, sometimes in company with night-herons. The nest is a slender platformof sticks placed high up in a tree, often in the vicinity of humanhabitations. Nesting paddy-birds, or pond-herons as they arefrequently called, utter all manner of weird calls, the one mostfrequently heard being a curious gurgle. 

Some of the amadavats build nests in June, but the great majoritybreed during the winter months. 

As soon as the first rains have fallen a few of the pheasant-tailedjacanas begin nesting operations, but the greater number breed inAugust; for this reason their nests are described in the calendar forthat month. 

In June a very striking bird makes its appearance in Northern India. This is the pied crested cuckoo (_Coccystes jacobinus_). Its underparts are white, as is a bar in the wing. The remainder of the plumageis glossy black. The head is adorned by an elegant crest. The piedcuckoo has a peculiar metallic call, which is as easy to recognise asit is difficult to describe. The bird victimises, not crows, butbabblers; nevertheless the corvi seem to dislike it as intensely asthey dislike koels. 

By the beginning of the month the great majority of the cock _bayas_or weaver-birds have assumed their black-and-golden wedding garment;nevertheless they do not as a rule begin to nest before July. 

The curious excrescence on the bill of the drake _nukta_ or comb-duckis now much enlarged. This betokens the approach of the nesting seasonfor that species. 

If the monsoon happen to burst early many of the birds which breed inthe rains begin building their nests towards the end of June, but, innine years out of ten, July marks the beginning of the breeding periodof aquatic birds, therefore the account of their nests properly findsplace in the calendar of that month, or of August, when the season isat its height. 

JULY

 Alas! creative nature calls to light Myriads of winged forms in sportive flight, When gathered clouds with ceaseless fury pour A constant deluge in the rushing shower. _Calcutta: A Poem_. 

In July India becomes a theatre in which Nature stages a mightytransformation scene. The prospect changes with kaleidoscopicrapidity. The green water-logged earth is for a time overhung by dullleaden clouds; this sombre picture melts away into one, even moredismal, in which the rain pours down in torrents, envelopingeverything in mist and moisture. Suddenly the sun blazes forth withindescribable brilliance and shines through an atmosphere, clear ascrystal, from which every particle of dust has been washed away. Fleecy clouds sail majestically across the vaulted firmament. Thenfollows a gorgeous sunset in which changing colours run riot throughsky and clouds--pearly grey, jet black, dark dun, pale lavender, deepmauve, rich carmine, and brightest gold. These colours fade away intothe darkness of the night; the stars then peep forth and twinklebrightly. At the approach of "rosy-fingered" dawn their lights go out, one by one. Then blue tints appear in the firmament which deepen intoazure. The glory of the ultramarine sky does not remain long withoutalloy: clouds soon appear. So the scene ever changes, hour by hour andday by day. Had the human being who passes July in the plains but onewindow to the soul and that the eye, the month would be one of purejoy, a month spent in the contemplation of splendid dawns, brilliantdays, the rich green mantle of the earth, the majesty of approachingthunderclouds, and superb sunsets. But, alas, July is not a month ofunalloyed pleasure. The temperature is tolerably low while the rain isactually falling; but the moment this ceases the European is subjectedto the acute physical discomforts engendered by the hot, steamy, oppressive atmosphere, the ferocity of the sun's rays, and the teasingof thousands of biting and buzzing insects which the monsoon callsinto being. Termites, crickets, red-bugs, stink-bugs, horseflies, mosquitoes, beetles and diptera of all shapes and sizes arise inmillions as if spontaneously generated. Many of these are creatures ofthe night. Although born in darkness all seem to strive after light. Myriads of them collect round every burning lamp in the open air, tothe great annoyance of the human being who attempts to read out ofdoors after dark. The spotted owlets, the toads and the lizards, however, take a different view of the invasion and partake eagerly ofthe rich feast provided for them. Notwithstanding the existence of_chiks_, or gauze doors, the hexapods crowd into the lighted bungalow, where every illumination soon becomes the centre of a collection ofthe bodies of the insects that have been burned by the flame, orscorched by the lamp chimney. Well is it for the rest of creation thatmost of these insects are short-lived. The span of life of many is buta day: were it much longer human beings could hardly manage to existduring the rains. Equally unbearable would life be were all thespecies of monsoon insects to come into being simultaneously. Fortunately they appear in relays. Every day some new forms enter onthe stage of life and several make their exit. The pageant of insectlife, then, is an ever-changing one. To-day one species predominates, to-morrow another, and the day after a third. Unpleasant andirritating though these insect hosts be to human beings, some pleasureis to be derived from watching them. Especially is this the case whenthe termites or white-ants swarm. In the damp parts of Lower Bengalthese creatures may emerge at any time of the year. In Calcutta theyswarm either towards the close of the rainy season or in spring afteran exceptionally heavy thunderstorm. In Madras they emerge from theirhiding-places in October with the northeast monsoon. In the UnitedProvinces the winged termites appear after the first fall of themonsoon rain in June or July as the case may be. These succulentcreatures provide a feast for the birds which is only equalled by thatfurnished by a flight of locusts. In the case of the termites it isnot only the birds that partake. The ever-vigilant crows are of coursethe first to notice a swarm of termites, and they lose no time insetting to work. The kites are not far behind them. These great birdssail on the outskirts of the flight, seizing individuals with theirclaws and transferring them to the beak while on the wing. A fewking-crows and bee-eaters join them. On the ground belowmagpie-robins, babblers, toads, lizards, musk-rats and otherterrestrial creatures make merry. If the swarm comes out at dusk, asoften happens, bats and spotted owlets join those of the gourmandsthat are feasting while on the wing. 

The earth is now green and sweet. The sugar-cane grows apace. Therice, the various millets and the other autumn crops are being sown. The cultivators take full advantage of every break in the rains toconduct agricultural operations. 

As we have seen, the nocturnal chorus of the birds is now replaced bythe croaking of frogs and the stridulation of crickets. In theday-time the birds still have plenty to say for themselves. Thebrain-fever birds scream as lustily as they did in May and June. Thekoel is, if possible, more vociferous than ever, especially at thebeginning of the month. The Indian cuckoo does not call so frequentlyas formerly, but, by way of compensation, the pied crested cuckoouplifts his voice at short intervals. 

The _whoot_, _whoot_, _whoot_ of the crow-pheasant booms from almostevery thicket. The iora, the coppersmith, the barbet, thegolden-backed woodpecker, and the white-breasted kingfisher continueto call merrily. The pied starlings are in full voice; their notesform a very pleasing addition to the avian chorus. Those magpie-robinsthat have not brought nesting operations to a close are singingvigorously. The king-crows are feeding their young ones in thegreenwood tree, and crooning softly to them _pitchu-wee_. At the_jhils_ the various waterfowl are nesting and each one proclaims thefact by its allotted call. Much strange music emanates from thewell-filled tank; the indescribable cries of the purple coots, thecurious "fixed bayonets" of the cotton teal and the weird cat-likemews of the jacanas form the dominant notes of the aquatic symphony. 

In July the black-breasted or rain-quail (_Coturnix coromandelica_) isplentiful in India. Much remains to be discovered regarding themovements of this species. It appears to migrate to Bengal, the UnitedProvinces, the Punjab and Sind shortly before the monsoon bursts, butit is said to arrive in Nepal as early as April. It would seem towinter in South India. It is a smaller bird than the ordinary greyquail and has no pale cross-bars on the primary wing feathers. Themales of this species are held in high esteem by Indians as fightingbirds. Large numbers of them are netted in the same way as the greyquail. Some captive birds are set down in a covered cage by asugar-cane field in the evening. Their calls attract a number of wildbirds, which settle down in the sugar-cane in order to spend the daythere. At dawn a net is quietly stretched across one end of the field. A rope is then slowly dragged along over the growing crop in thedirection of the net. This sends all the quail into the net. 

Very fair sport may be obtained in July by shooting rain-quail thathave been attracted by call birds. 

July marks the end of one breeding season and the beginning ofanother. As regards the nesting season, birds fall into four classes. There is the very large class that nests in spring and summer. Next inimportance is the not inconsiderable body that rears up its broods inthe rains when the food supply is most abundant. Then comes the smallcompany that builds nests in the pleasant winter time. Lastly thereare the perennials--such birds as the sparrow and the dove, which nestat all seasons. In the present month the last of the summer nestingbirds close operations for the year, and the monsoon birds begin tolay their eggs. July is therefore a favourable month for bird-nesting. Moreover, the sun is sometimes obscured by cloud and, under suchconditions, a human being is able to remain out of doors throughoutthe day without suffering much physical discomfort. 

With July ends the normal breeding season of the tree-pies, white-eyes, ioras; king-crows, bank-mynas, paradise flycatchers, brownrock-chats, Indian robins, dhayals, red-winged bush-larks, sunbirds, rollers, swifts, green pigeons, lapwings and butcher-birds. 

The paradise flycatchers leave Northern India and migrate southwards afew weeks after the young birds have left the nest. 

Numbers of bulbuls' nests are likely to be found in July, but thebreeding time of these birds is rapidly drawing to its close. Sparrowsand doves are of course engaged in parental duties; their eggs havebeen taken in every month of the year. 

The nesting season is now at its height for the white-necked storks, the koels and their dupes--the house-crows, also for the variousbabblers and their deceivers--the brain-fever birds and the piedcrested cuckoos. The tailor-birds, the ashy and the Indianwren-warblers, the brahminy mynas, the wire-tailed swallows, theamadavats, the sirkeer cuckoos, the pea-fowl, the water-hens, thecommon and the pied mynas, the cuckoo-shrikes and the orioles are allfully occupied with nursery duties. The earliest of the brain-feverbirds to be hatched have left the nest. Like all its family the younghawk-cuckoo has a healthy appetite. In order to satisfy it theunfortunate foster-parents have to work like slaves, and often mustthey wonder why nature has given them so voracious a child. When itsees a babbler approaching with food, the cuckoo cries out and flapsits wings vigorously. Sometimes these completely envelop the parentbird while it is thrusting food into the yellow mouth of the cuckoo. The breast of the newly-fledged brain-fever bird is covered with darkbrown drops, so that, when seen from below, it looks like a thrushwith yellow legs. Its cries, however, are not at all thrushlike. 

Many of the wire-tailed swallows, minivets and white-browed fantailflycatchers bring up a second brood during the rains. The loudcheerful call of the last is heard very frequently in July. 

Numbers of young bee-eaters are to be seen hawking at insects; theyare distinguishable from adults by the dullness of the plumage and thefact that the median tail feathers are not prolonged as bristles. 

Very few crows emerge from the egg before the 1st of July, but, duringthe last week in June, numbers of baby koels are hatched out. Theperiod of incubation for the koel's egg is shorter than that of thecrow, hence at the outset the baby koel steals a march on hisfoster-brothers. Koel nestlings, when they first emerge from the egg, differ greatly in appearance from baby crows. The skin of the koel isblack, that of crow is pink for the first two days of its existence, but it grows darker rapidly. The baby crow is the bigger bird and hasa larger mouth with fleshy sides. The sides of the mouth of the youngkoel are not fleshy. The neck of the crow nestling is long and thehead hangs down, whereas the koel's neck is short and the bird carriesits head huddled in its shoulders. Crows nest high up in trees, thesefacts are therefore best observed by sending up an expert climber witha tin half-full of sawdust to which a long string is attached. Theclimber lets down the eggs or nestlings in the tin and the observercan examine them in comfort on _terra firma_. The parent crows do notappear to notice how unlike the young koels are to their ownnestlings, for they feed them most assiduously and make a great uproarwhen the koels are taken from the nest. Baby crows are noisycreatures; koels are quiet and timid at first, but become noisier asthey grow older. 

The feathers of crow nestlings are black in each sex. Young koels fallinto three classes: those of which the feathers are all black, thoseof which a few feathers have white or reddish tips, those which arespeckled black and white all over because each feather has a whitetip. The two former appear to be young cocks and the last to be hens. Baby koels, in addition to hatching out before their foster-brethren, develop more quickly, so that they leave the nest fully a week inadvance of the young corvi. After vacating the nest they squat forsome days on a branch close by; numbers of them are to be seen thus insuitable localities towards the end of July. At first the call of thekoel is a squeak, but later it takes the form of a creditable, ifludicrous, attempt at a caw. The young cuckoo does not seem to be ableto distinguish its foster-parents from other crows; it clamours forfood whenever any crow comes near it. 

Of the scenes characteristic of the rains in India none is morepleasing than that presented by a colony of nest-building bayas orweaver-birds (_Ploceus baya_). These birds build in company. Sometimesmore than twenty of their wonderful retort-like nests are to be seenin one tree. This means that more than forty birds are at work, and, as each of these indulges in much cheerful twittering, the tree inquestion presents an animated scene. Both sexes take part innest-construction. 

Having selected the branch of a tree from which the nest will hang, the birds proceed to collect material. Each completed nest containsmany yards of fibre not much thicker than stout thread. Such materialis not found in quantity in nature. The bayas have, therefore, tomanufacture it. This is easily done. The building weaver-bird betakesitself to a clump of elephant-grass, and, perching on one of theblades, makes a notch in another near the base. Then, grasping withits beak the edge of this blade above the notch, the baya flies awayand thus strips off a narrow strand. Sometimes the strand adheres tothe main part of the blade at the tip so firmly that the force of theflying baya is not sufficient to sever it. The bird then swings for afew seconds in mid-air, suspended by the strip of leaf. Not in theleast daunted the baya makes a fresh effort and flies off, stillgripping the strand firmly. At the third, if not at the secondattempt, the thin strip is completely severed. Having secured itsprize the weaver-bird proceeds to tear off one or two more strands andthen flies with these in its bill to the nesting site, uttering criesof delight. The fibres obtained in this manner are bound round thebranch from which the nest will hang. More strands are added to form astalk; when this has attained a length of several inches it isgradually expanded in the form of an umbrella or bell. The next stepis to weave a band of grass across the mouth of the bell. In thiscondition the nest is often left unfinished. Indians call suchincomplete nests _jhulas_ or swings; they assert that these are madein order that the cocks may sit in them and sing to their mates whilethese are incubating the eggs. It may be, as "Eha" suggests, that atthis stage the birds are dissatisfied with the balance of the nest andfor this reason leave it. If the nest, at this point of itsconstruction, please the weaver-birds they proceed to finish it byclosing up the bell at one side of the cross-band to form a receptaclefor the eggs, and prolonging the other half of the bell into a longtunnel or neck. This neck forms the entrance to the nest; towards itsextremity it becomes very flimsy so that it affords no foothold to anenemy. Nearly every baya's nest contains some lumps of clay attachedto it. Jerdon was of opinion that the function of these is to balancethe nest properly. Indians state that the bird sticks fireflies intothe lumps of clay to light up the nest at night. This story has foundits way into some ornithological text-books. There is no truth in it. The present writer is inclined to think that the object of these lumpsof clay is to prevent the light loofah-like nest swinging tooviolently in a gale of wind. 

Both sexes take part in nest-construction. After the formation of thecross-bar at the mouth of the bell one of the birds sits inside andthe other outside, and they pass the strands to each other and thusthe weaving proceeds rapidly. While working at the nest the bayas, more especially the cocks, are in a most excited state. They sing, scream, flap their wings and snap the bill. Sometimes one cock in hisexcitement attacks a neighbour by jumping on his back! This results ina fight in which the birds flutter in the air, pecking at one another. Often the combatants "close" for a few seconds, but neither bird seemsto get hurt in these little contests. 

Every bird-lover should make a point of watching a company ofweaver-birds while these are constructing their nests. The tree ortrees in which they build can easily be located by sending a servantin July to search for them. The favourite sites for nests in theUnited Provinces seem to be babul trees that grow near borrow pitsalongside the railroad. 

In the rainy season two other birds weave nests, which are nearly aselegant as those woven by the baya. These birds, however, do not nestin company. They usually build inside bushes, or in long grass. 

For this reason they do not lend themselves to observation while atwork so readily as bayas do. The birds in question are the Indian andthe ashy wren-warbler. 

The former species brings up two broods in the year. One, as has beenmentioned, in March and the other in the "rains. "

The nest of the Indian wren-warbler (_Prinia inornata_) is, except forits shape and its smaller size, very like that of a weaver-bird. It isan elongated purse or pocket, closely and compactly woven with finestrips of grass from 1/40 to 1/20 inch in breadth. The nest is enteredby a hole near the top. Both birds work at the nest, clinging first tothe neighbouring stems of grass or twigs, and later to the nest itselfwhen this has attained sufficient dimensions to afford them foothold. They push the ends of the grass in and out just as weaver-birds do. Like the baya, the Indian wren-warbler does not line its nest. Theeggs are pale greenish-blue, richly marked by various shades of deepchocolate and reddish-brown. As Hume remarks: "nothing can exceed thebeauty or variety of markings, which are a combination of boldblotches, clouds and spots, with delicate, intricately woven lines, recalling somewhat ... Those of our early favourite--theyellow-hammer. "

The ashy wren-warbler (_Prinia socialis_) builds two distinct kinds ofnest. One is just like that of the tailor-bird, being formed by sewingor cobbling together two, three, four or five leaves, and lining thecup thus formed with down, wool, cotton or other soft material. Thesecond kind of nest is a woven one. This is a hollow ball with a holein the side. The weaving is not so neat as that of the baya and theIndian wren-warbler. Moreover, several kinds of material are usuallyworked into the nest, which is invariably lined. 

The building of two totally different types of nest is an interestingphenomenon, and seems to indicate that under the name _Priniasocialis_ are classed two different species, which anatomically are solike one another that systematists are unable to separate them. Bothkinds of nests are found in the same locality and at the same time ofthe year. Against the theory that there are two species of ashywren-warbler is the fact that there is no difference in appearancebetween the eggs found in the two kinds of nest. All eggs arebrick-red or mahogany colour, without any spots or markings. 

Many of the Indian cliff-swallows, of which the nests are described inthe calendar for March, bring up a second brood in the "rains. "

Needless to state that in the monsoon the tank and the _jhil_ are thehappy hunting grounds of the ornithologist. 

In July and August not less than thirty species of waterfowlnidificate. Floating nests are constructed by sarus cranes, purplecoots and the jacanas. The various species of egrets breed in coloniesin trees in some village not far from a tank; in company with themspoonbills, cormorants, snake-birds, night-herons and other birdsoften nest. The white-breasted waterhen constructs its nursery in athicket at the margin of some village pond. The resident ducks arealso busy with their nests. These are in branches of trees, in holesin trees or old buildings, or on the ground. 

When describing the nesting operations of waterfowl in Northern Indiait is difficult to apportion these between July and August, for theeggs of almost all such species are as likely to be found in the onemonth as in the other. A few individuals begin to lay in June, themajority commence in July, but a great many defer operations untilAugust. There is scarcely an aquatic species of which it can be said:"It never lays before August. " Nor are there many of which it can beasserted: "Their eggs are never found after July. "

Individuals differ in their habit. A retarded monsoon means that thewater-birds begin to nest later than usual. The first fall of themonsoon rain seems to be the signal for the commencement of nestingoperations, but by no means every pair of birds obeys the signalimmediately. 

The nearest approach to a generalisation which it is possible to makeis that the egrets and paddy-birds are usually the first of themonsoon breeders to begin nest-building, while the spot-billed duck, the whistling teal and the bronze-winged jacana are the last. In otherwords, the eggs of the former are most likely to be found in July andthose of the latter in August. 

As the calendar for this month has already attained considerabledimensions, a description of the nests of all these water-birds isgiven in the August calendar. It is, however, necessary to state thatthe eggs of the following birds are likely to be found in July: purplecoot, common coot, bronze-winged and pheasant-tailed jacana, blackibis, white-necked stork, cormorant, snake-bird, cotton teal, combduck, spot-billed duck, spoonbill, and the various herons and egrets. 

AUGUST

 See! the flushed horizon flames intense With vivid red, in rich profusion streamed O'er heaven's pure arch. At once the clouds assume Their gayest liveries; these with silvery beams Fringed lovely; splendid those in liquid gold, And speak their sovereign's state. He comes, behold! MALLET. 

The transformation scene described in July continues throughoutAugust. Torrential rain alternates with fierce sunshine. The earth isverdant with all shades of green. Most conspicuous of these are theyellowish verdure of the newly-transplanted rice, the vivid emerald ofthe young plants that have taken root, the deeper hue of the growingsugar-cane, and the dark green of the mango topes. 

Unless the monsoon has been unusually late in reaching Northern Indiathe autumn crops are all sown before the first week in August. Thesugar-cane is now over five feet in height. The cultivators are busilytransplanting the better kinds of rice, or running the plough throughfields in which the coarser varieties are growing. 

The aloes are in flower. Their white spikes of drooping tulip-likeflowers are almost the only inflorescences to be seen outside gardensat this season of the year. The mango crop is over, but that of thepineapples takes its place. 

At night-time many of the trees are illumined by hundreds offireflies. These do not burn their lamps continuously. Each insectlets its light shine for a few seconds and then suddenly puts it out. It sometimes happens that all the fireflies in a tree show theirlights and extinguish them simultaneously and thereby produce aluminous display which is strikingly beautiful. Fireflies are to beseen during the greater part of the year, but they are far moreabundant in the "rains" than at any other season. 

As in July so in August the voices of the birds are rarely heard afterdark. The nocturnal music is now the product of the batrachian band, ably seconded by the crickets. 

During a prolonged break in the rains the frogs and toads are hushed, except in _jhils_ and low-lying paddy fields. Cessation of the rain, however, does not silence the crickets. 

The first streak of dawn is the signal for the striking up of thejungle and the spotted owlets. Hard upon them follow the koels and thebrain-fever birds. These call only for a short time, remaining silentduring the greater part of the day. Other birds that lift up theirvoices at early dawn are the crow-pheasant, the black partridge andthe peacock. These also call towards dusk. As soon as the sun hasrisen the green barbets, coppersmiths, white-breasted kingfishers andking-crows utter their familiar notes; even these birds are heard butrarely in the middle of the day, nor have their voices the vigour thatcharacterised them in the hot weather. Occasionally the brownrock-chat emits a few notes, but he does so in a half-hearted manner. In the early days of August the magpie-robins sing at times; theirsong, however, is no longer the brilliant performance it was. By theend of the month it has completely died away. 

The Indian cuckoo no more raises its voice in the plains, but the piedcrested-cuckoo continues to call lustily and the pied starlings make ajoyful noise. The oriole's liquid _pee-ho_ is gradually replaced bythe loud _tew_, which is its usual cry at times when it is notnesting. 

The water-birds, being busy at their nests, are of course noisy, but, with the exception of the loud trumpeting of the sarus cranes, theirvocal efforts are heard only at the _jhil_. 

The did-he-do-its, the rollers, the bee-eaters, two or three speciesof warblers and the perennial singers complete the avian chorus. 

Numbers of rosy starlings are returning from Asia Minor, where theyhave reared up their broods. The inrush of these birds begins in Julyand continues till October. They are the forerunners of the autumnimmigrants. Towards the end of the month the garganey or blue-wingedteal (_Querquedula circia_), which are the earliest of the migratoryducks to visit India, appear on the tanks. Along with them comes theadvance-guard of the snipe. The pintail snipe (_Gallinago stenura_)are invariably the first to appear, but they visit only the easternparts of Northern India. Large numbers of them sojourn in Bengal andAssam. Stragglers appear in the eastern portion of the UnitedProvinces; in the western districts and in the Punjab this snipe is a_rara avis_. By the third week in August good bags of pintail snipeare sometimes obtained in Bengal. The fantail or full-snipe (_G. Coelestis_) is at least one week later in arriving. This species hasbeen shot as early as the 24th August, but there is no generalimmigration of even the advance-guard until quite the end of themonth. 

The jack-snipe (_G. Gallinula_) seems never to appear beforeSeptember. 

Most of the monsoon broods of the Indian cliff-swallow emerge from theeggs in August. The "rains" breeding season of the amadavats or redmunias is now over, and the bird-catcher issues forth to snare them. 

His stock-in-trade consists of some seed and two or three amadavats inone of the pyramid-shaped wicker cages that can be purchased for a fewannas in any bazaar. To the base of one of the sides of the cage aflap is attached by a hinge. The flap, which is of the same shape andsize as the side of the cage, is composed of a frame over which asmall-meshed string net is stretched. A long string is fastened to theapex of the flap and passed through a loop at the top of the cage. Selecting an open space near some tall grass in which amadavats arefeeding, the bird-catcher sets down the cage and loosens the string sothat the flap rests on the earth. Some seed is sprinkled on the flap. Then the trapper squats behind a bush, holding the end of the stringin his hand. The cheerful little _lals_ inside the cage soon begin totwitter and sing, and their calls attract the wild amadavats in thevicinity. These come to the cage, alight on the flap, and begin to eatthe seed. The bird-catcher gives the string a sharp pull and thustraps his victims between the flap and the side of the cage. He thendisentangles them, places them in the cage, and again sets the trap. 

Almost all the birds that rear up their young in the spring havefinished nesting duties for the year by August. Here and there a pairof belated rollers may be seen feeding their young. Before thebeginning of the month nearly all the young crows and koels haveemerged from the egg, and the great majority of them have left thenest. Young house-crows are distinguished from adults by theindistinctness of the grey on the neck. They continually open theirgreat red mouths to clamour for food. 

The wire-tailed swallows, swifts, pied crested-cuckoos, crow-pheasants, butcher-birds, cuckoo-shrikes, fantail flycatchers, babblers, white-necked storks, wren-warblers, weaver-birds, common andpied mynas, peafowl, and almost all the resident water-birds, wadersand swimmers, except the terns and the plovers, are likely to haveeggs or young. The nesting season of the swifts and butcher-birds isnearly over. In the case of the others it is at its height. Thewire-tailed swallows and minivets are busy with their second broods. The nests of most of these birds have already been described. 

The Indian peafowl (_Pavo cristatus_) usually lay their large whiteeggs on the ground in long grass or thick undergrowth. Sometimes theynestle on the grass-grown roofs of deserted buildings or in otherelevated situations. Egrets, night-herons, cormorants, darters, paddy-birds, openbills, and spoonbills build stick nests in trees. These birds often breed in large colonies. In most cases the sitechosen is a clump of trees in a village which is situated on theborder of a tank. Sometimes all these species nest in company. Humedescribed a village in Mainpuri where scores of the above-mentionedbirds, together with some whistling teal and comb-ducks, nestedsimultaneously. After a site has been selected by a colony the birdsreturn year after year to the place for nesting purposes. The majorityof the eggs are laid in July, the young appearing towards the end ofthat month or early in the present one. 

The nest of the sarus crane (_Grus antigone_) is nearly always anislet some four feet in diameter, which either floats in shallow wateror rises from the ground and projects about a foot above the level ofthe water. The nest is composed of dried rushes. It may be placed in a_jhil_, a paddy field, or a borrow pit by the railway line. Afavourite place is the midst of paddy cultivation in some low-lyingfield where the water is too deep to admit of the growing of rice. Twovery large white eggs, rarely three, are laid. This species makes noattempt to conceal its nest. In the course of a railway journey inAugust numbers of incubating saruses may be seen by any person whotakes the trouble to look for them. 

"Raoul" makes the extraordinary statement that incubating sarus cranesdo not sit when incubating, but hatch the eggs by standing over them, one leg on each side of the nest! Needless to say there is no truthwhatever in this statement. The legs of the sitting sarus crane arefolded under it, as are those of incubating flamingos and otherlong-legged birds. 

Throughout the month of August two of the most interesting birds inIndia are busy with their nests. They are the pheasant-tailed and thebronze-winged jacana. These birds live, move and have their being onthe surface of lotus-covered tanks. Owing to the great length of theirtoes jacanas are able to run about with ease over the surface of thefloating leaves of water-lilies and other aquatic plants, or overtangled masses of rushes and water-weeds. 

In the monsoon many tanks are so completely covered with vegetationthat almost the only water visible to a person standing on the bankconsists of the numerous drops that have been thrown on to the flatsurfaces of the leaves, where they glisten in the sun like pearls. 

Two species of jacana occur in India: the bronze-winged (_Motopusindicus_) and the pheasant-tailed jacana or the water-pheasant(_Hydrophasianus chirurgus_). They are to be found on most tanks inthe well-watered parts of the United Provinces. They occur in smallflocks and are often put up by sportsmen when shooting duck. They emitweird mewing cries. The bronze-winged jacana is a black bird withbronze wings. It is about the size of a pigeon, but has much longerlegs. The pheasant-tailed species is a black-and-white bird. In winterthe tail is short, but in May both sexes grow long pheasant-likecaudal feathers which give the bird its popular name. Thebronze-winged jacana does not grow these long tail feathers. 

The nests of jacanas are truly wonderful structures. They are justfloating pads of rushes and leaves of aquatic plants. Sometimespractically the whole of the pad is under water, so that the eggsappear to be resting on the surface of the tank. The nest of thebronze-winged species is usually larger and more massive than that ofthe water-pheasant. The latter's nest is sometimes so small as hardlyto be able to contain the eggs--a little, shallow, circular cup ofrushes and water-weeds or floating lotus leaves or tufts ofwater-grass. The eggs of the two species show but little similarity. Both, however, are very beautiful and remarkable. The eggs of thebronze-winged jacana have a rich brownish-bronze background, on whichblack lines are scribbled in inextricable confusion, so that the egglooks as though Arabic texts had been scrawled over it. This speciesmight well be called "the Arabic writing-master. " The eggs of thewater-pheasant are in shape like pegtops without the peg. They are ofa dark rich green-bronze colour, and devoid of any markings. 

The nest of the handsome, but noisy, purple coot (_Porphyriopoliocephalus_) is a platform of rushes and reeds which is sometimesplaced on the ground in a rice field, but is more often floating, andis then tethered to a tree or some other object. From six to ten eggsare laid. These are very beautiful objects. The ground colour isdelicate pink. This is spotted and blotched with crimson; beneaththese spots there are clouds of pale purple which have the appearanceof lying beneath the surface of the shell. 

The white-breasted water-hen (_Gallinula phoenicura_) is a bird thatmust be familiar to all. One pair, at least, is to be found in everyvillage which boasts of a tank and a bamboo clump, no matter how smallthese be. The water-hen is a black bird about the size of the averagebazaar fowl, with a white face, throat and breast. It carries itsshort tail almost erect, and under this is a patch of brick-redfeathers. During most seasons of the year it is a silent bird, butfrom mid-May until the end of the monsoon it is exceedingly noisy, and, were it in the habit of haunting our gardens and compounds, itscries would attract as much attention as do those of the koel and thebrain-fever bird. As, however, water-hens are confined to tiny hamletssituated far away from cities, many people are not acquainted withtheir calls, which "Eha" describes as "roars, hiccups and cackles. "The nest is built in a bamboo clump or other dense thicket. The eggsare stone-coloured, with spots of brown, red and purple. The youngbirds, when first hatched, are covered with black down, and look likelittle black ducklings. They can run, swim and dive as soon as theyleave the egg. Little parties of them are to be seen at the edge ofmost village tanks in August. 

The resident ducks are all busy with their nests. The majority of themlay their eggs in July, so that in August they are occupied with theiryoung. 

The cotton-teal (_Nettopus coromandelianus_) usually lays its eggs ina hole in a mango or other tree. The hollow is sometimes lined withfeathers and twigs. It is not very high up as a rule, from six totwelve feet above the ground being the usual level. The tree selectedfor the nesting site is not necessarily close to water. Thirteen orfourteen eggs seem to be the usual clutch, but as many as twenty-twohave been taken from one nest. Young teal, when they emerge from theegg, can swim and walk, but they are unable to fly. No European seemsto have actually observed the process whereby they get from the nestto the ground or the water. It is generally believed that the parentbirds carry them. Mr. Stuart Baker writes that a very intelligentnative once told him that, early one morning, before it was light, hewas fishing in a tank, when he saw a bird flutter heavily into thewater from a tree in front of him and some twenty paces distant. Thebird returned to the tree, and again, with much beating of the wings, fluttered down to the surface of the tank; this performance wasrepeated again and again at intervals of some minutes. At first thenative could only make out that the cause of the commotion was a birdof some kind, but after a few minutes, he, remaining crouched amongthe reeds and bushes, saw distinctly that it was a cotton-teal, andthat each time it flopped into the water and rose again it left agosling behind it. The young ones were carried somehow in the feet, but the parent bird seemed to find the carriage of its offspring noeasy matter; it flew with difficulty, and fell into the water withconsiderable force. 

August is the month in which some fortunate observer will one year beable to confirm or refute this story. 

The comb-duck or _nukta_ (_Sarcidiornis melanotus_), which looks morelike a freak of some domesticated breed than one of nature's owncreatures, makes, in July or August, a nest of grass and sticks in ahole in a tree or in the fork of a stout branch. Sometimes disusednests of other species are utilised. About a dozen eggs is the usualnumber of the clutch, but Anderson once found a nest containing nofewer than forty eggs. 

The lesser whistling-teal (_Dendrocygna javanica_) usually builds itsnest in a hollow in a tree. Sometimes it makes use of the desertednursery of another species, and there are many cases on record of thenest being on the ground, a _bund_, or a piece of high ground in a_jhil_. Eight or ten eggs are laid. 

The little grebe or dabchick (_Podiceps albipennis_) is anotherspecies that lays in July or August. This bird, which looks like aminiature greyish-brown duck without a tail, must be familiar toAnglo-Indians, since at least one pair are to be seen on almost everypond or tank in Northern India. Although permanent residents in thiscountry, little grebes leave, in the "rains, " those tanks that do notafford plenty of cover, and betake themselves to a _jhil_ wherevegetation is luxuriant. The nest, like that of other species thatbuild floating cradles, is a tangle of weeds and rushes. When theincubating bird leaves the nest she invariably covers the white eggswith wet weeds, and, as Hume remarks, it is almost impossible to catchthe old bird on the nest or to take her so much by surprise as not toallow her time to cover up the eggs. As a matter of fact, these birdsspend very little time upon the nest in the day-time. The sun's raysare powerful enough not only to supply the heat necessary forincubation but to bake the eggs. This _contretemps_, however, isavoided by placing wet weeds on the eggs and by the general moistureof the nest. No better idea of the heat of India during the monsooncan be furnished than that afforded by the case of some cattle-egrets'eggs taken by a friend of the writer's in August, 1913. He found aclutch of four eggs; not having leisure at the time to blow them, heplaced them in a bowl on the drawing-room mantelshelf. On the eveningof the following day he heard some squeaks, but, thinking that thesesounds emanated from a musk-rat or one of the other numerous rent-freetenants of every Indian bungalow, paid little heed to them. When, however, the same sounds were heard some hours later and appeared toemanate from the mantelpiece, he went to the bowl, and, lo and behold, two young egrets had emerged! These were at once fed. They lived forthree days and appeared to be in good health, when they suddenly gaveup the ghost. 

SEPTEMBER

 And sweet it is by lonely meres To sit, with heart and soul awake, Where water-lilies lie afloat, Each anchored like a fairy boat Amid some fabled elfin lake: To see the birds flit to and fro Along the dark-green reedy edge. MARY HOWITT. 

September is a much-abused month. Many people assert that it is themost unpleasant and unhealthy season of the year. 

Malarial and muggy though it is, September scarcely merits all theevil epithets that are applied to it. The truth is that, after thetorrid days of the hot weather and the humid heat of the rainy season, the European is thoroughly weary of his tropical surroundings, hisvitality is at a low ebb, he is languid and irritable, thus hecomplains bitterly of the climate of September, notwithstanding thefact that it is a distinct improvement on that of the two precedingmonths. 

In the early part of the month the weather differs little from that ofJuly and August. The days are somewhat shorter and the sun's rayssomewhat less powerful, in consequence the average temperature isslightly lower. Normally the rains cease in the second half of themonth. Then the sky resumes the fleckless blueness which characterisesit during the greater part of the year. The blue of the sky is morepure and more intense in September than at other times, except duringbreaks in the monsoon, because the rain has washed from the atmospherethe myriads of specks of dust that are usually suspended in it. 

The cessation of the rains is followed by a period of steamy heat. Asthe moisture of the air gradually diminishes the temperature rises. But each September day is shorter than the one before it, and, hour byhour, the rays of the sun part with some of their power. Towards theend of the month the nights are cooler than they have been for sometime. At sunset the village smoke begins to hang low in a diaphanouscloud--a sure sign of the approaching cold weather. The night dews areheavy. In the morning the blades of grass and the webs of the spidersare bespangled with pearly dewdrops. Cool zephyrs greet the risingsun. At dawn there is, in the last days of the month, a touch of coldin the air. 

The Indian countryside displays a greenness which is almostspring-like; not quite spring-like, because the fierce greens inducedby the monsoon rains are not of the same hues as those of the youngleaves of spring. The foliage is almost entirely free from dust. Thisfact adds to the vernal appearance of the landscape. The _jhils_ andtanks are filled with water, and, being overgrown with luxuriantvegetation, enhance the beauty of the scene. But, almost immediatelyafter the cessation of the rains, the country begins to assume itsusual look. Day by day the grass loses a little of its greenness. Theearth dries up gradually, and its surface once more becomes dusty. Thedust is carried to the foliage, on which it settles, subduing thenatural greenery of the leaves. No sooner do the rains cease than therivers begin to fall. By November most of them will be sandy wastes inwhich the insignificant stream is almost lost to view. 

The mimosas flower in September. Their yellow spherical blossoms arerendered pale by contrast with the deep gold hue of the blooms of the_san_ (hemp) which now form a conspicuous feature of the landscape inmany districts. The cork trees (_Millingtonia hortensis_) becomebespangled with hanging clusters of white, long-tubed, star-likeflowers that give out fragrant perfume at night. 

The first-fruits of the autumn harvest are being gathered in. Acreupon acre of the early-sown rice falls before the sickle. Thethreshing-floors once again become the scene of animation. The fallowfields are being prepared for the spring crops and the sowing of thegrain is beginning. 

Throughout the month insect life is as rich and varied as it was inJuly and August. 

The brain-fever bird and the koel call so seldom in September thattheir cries, when heard, cause surprise. The voice of the piedcrested-cuckoo no longer falls upon the ear, nor does the song of themagpie-robin. The green barbets lift up their voices fairlyfrequently, but it is only on rare occasions that their cousins--thecoppersmiths--hammer on their anvils. The pied mynas are far lessvociferous than they were in July and August. 

By the end of September the bird chorus has assumed its winter form, except that the grey-headed flycatchers have not joined it in numbers. 

Apart from the sharp notes of the warblers, the cooing of the doves, the hooting of the crow-pheasants, the wailing of the kites, thecawing of the crows, the screaming of the green parrots, thechattering of the mynas and the seven sisters, the trumpeting of thesarus cranes and the clamouring of the lapwings, almost the only birdvoices commonly heard are those of the fantail flycatcher, theamadavat, the wagtail, the oriole, the roller and the sunbird. 

The cock sunbirds are singing brilliantly although they are stillwearing their workaday garments, which are quaker brown save for onepurple streak along the median line of the breast and abdomen. 

Many birds are beginning to moult. They are casting off worn feathersand assuming the new ones that will keep them warm during the coolwinter months. With most birds the new feathers grow as fast as theold ones fall out. In a few, however, the process of renewal does notkeep pace with that of shedding; the result is that the moulting birdpresents a mangy appearance. The mynas afford conspicuous examples ofthis; when moulting their necks often become almost nude, so that thebirds bear some resemblance to miniature vultures. 

Great changes in the avifauna take place in September. 

The yellow-throated sparrows, the koels, the sunbirds, the bee-eaters, the red turtle-doves and the majority of the king-crows leave thePunjab. From the United Provinces there is a large exodus ofbrain-fever birds, koels, pied crested-cuckoos, paradise flycatchersand Indian orioles. These last are replaced by black-headed orioles inthe United Provinces, but not in the Punjab. 

On the other hand, the great autumnal immigration takes placethroughout the month. Before September is half over the migratorywagtails begin to appear. Like most birds they travel by night whenmigrating. They arrive in silence, but on the morning of their comingthe observer cannot fail to notice their cheerful little notes, which, like the hanging of the village smoke, are to be numbered among thesigns of the approach of winter. The three species that visit India inthe largest numbers are the white (_Motacilla alba_), the masked (_M. Personata_) and the grey wagtail (_M. Melanope_). In Bengal the firsttwo are largely replaced by the white-faced wagtail (_M. Leucopsis_). The names "white" and "grey" are not very happy ones. The whitespecies is a grey bird with a white face and some black on the headand breast; the masked wagtail is very difficult to distinguish fromthe white species, differing in having less white and more black onthe head and face, the white constituting the "mask"; the grey wagtailhas the upper plumage greenish-grey and the lower partssulphur-yellow. The three species arrive almost simultaneously, butthe experience of the writer is that the grey bird usually comes a dayor two before his cousins. 

On one of the last ten days of September the first batch of Indianredstarts (_Ruticilla frontalis_) reaches India. Within twenty days ofthe coming of these welcome little birds it is possible to dispensewith punkas. 

Like the redstarts the rose-finches and minivets begin to pour intoIndia towards the end of September. The snipe arrive daily throughoutthe month. 

With the first full moon of September come the grey quail (_Coturnixcommunis_). These, like the rain-quail, afford good sport with the gunif attracted by call birds set down overnight. When the stream ofimmigrating quail has ceased to flow, these birds spread themselvesover the well-cropped country. It then becomes difficult to obtain agood bag of quail until the time of the spring harvest, when theycollect in the crops that are still standing. 

Thousands of blue-winged teal invade India in September, but most ofthe other species of non-resident duck do not arrive until October oreven November. 

Not the least important of the September arrivals are the migratorybirds of prey. None of the owls seem to migrate. Nor do the vultures, but a large proportion of the diurnal raptores leaves the plains ofIndia in the spring. 

To every migratory species of raptorial bird, that captures livingquarry, there is a non-migratory counterpart or near relative. Itwould almost seem as if each species were broken up into two clans--amigratory and a stationary one. Thus, of each of the following pairsof birds the first-named is migratory and the other non-migratory: thesteppe-eagle and the tawny eagle, the large Indian and the commonkite, the long-legged and the white-eyed buzzard, the sparrow-hawk andthe shikra, the peregrine and the lugger falcon, the common and thered-headed merlin, the kestrel and the black-winged kite. 

It is tempting to formulate the theory that the raptores are migratoryor the reverse according or not as they prey on birds of passage, andthat the former migrate merely in order to follow their quarry. Certain facts seem to bear out this theory. The peregrine falcon, which feeds largely on ducks, is migratory, while the lugger falcon--abird not particularly addicted to waterfowl--remains in Indiathroughout the year. 

The necessity of following their favourite quarry may account for themigratory habits of some birds of prey, but it does not apply to all. Thus, the osprey, which feeds almost exclusively on fish, is merely awinter visitor to India. Again, there is the kestrel. This preys onnon-migratory rats and mice, nevertheless it leaves the plains in thehot weather and goes to the Himalayas to breed. All the species ofbirds of prey cited above as migratory begin to arrive in the plainsof India in September. The merlins come only into the Punjab, but mostof the other raptores spread over the whole of India. 

The various species of harrier make their appearance in September. These are birds that cannot fail to attract attention. They usuallyfly slowly a few feet above the surface of the earth so that they candrop suddenly on their quarry. They squat on the ground when resting, but their wings are long and their bodies light, so that they do notneed much rest. Those who shoot duck have occasion often to say hardthings of the marsh-harrier and the peregrine falcon, because thesebirds are apt to come as unbidden guests to the shoot and carry offwounded duck and teal before the _shikari_ has time to retrieve them. 

Of the migratory birds of prey the kestrel is perhaps the first toarrive; the osprey and the peregrine falcon are among the last. 

Very few observations of the comings and the goings of the variousraptorial birds have been recorded; in the present state of ourknowledge it is not possible to compile an accurate table showing theusual order in which the various species appear. This is a subject towhich those persons who dwell permanently in one place might withadvantage direct their attention. 

As regards nesting operations September is not a month of activity. 

On the 15th the close season for game birds ends in the Governmentforests; and by that date the great majority of them have reared uptheir broods. Grey partridge's eggs, it is true, have been taken inSeptember; but as we have seen, grey partridges, like doves and kites, can scarcely be said to have a breeding season; they lay eggs wheneverit seemeth good to them. 

A few belated peafowl may still be found with eggs, but these areexceptions. Most of the hens are strutting about proudly, accompaniedby their chicks, while the cocks are shedding their trains. Otherspecies of which the eggs may be found in the present month are thewhite-throated munia, the common and the large grey babblers, and, ofcourse, the various species of dove. 

Before the last day of August all the young mynas have emerged fromthe egg, and throughout the first half of September numbers of themare to be seen following their parents and clamouring for food. Mostof the koels have departed, but some individuals belonging to therising generation remind us that they are still with us by emittingsounds which are very fair imitations of the "sqwaking" of youngcrows. 

Baby koels are as importunate as professional beggars and solicit foodof every crow that passes by, to the great disgust of all but theirfoster-parents. 

The majority of the seven sisters have done with nursery duties for aseason. Some flocks, however, are still accompanied by impedimenta inthe shape of young babblers or pied crested-cuckoos. The impedimentamake far more noise than the adult birds. They are always hungry, orat any rate always demanding food in squeaky tones. With each squeakthe wings are flapped violently, as if to emphasise the demand. Everymember of a flock appears to help to feed the young birds irrespectiveof whose nests these have been reared in. 

Throughout September bayas are to be seen at their nests, but, beforethe month draws to its close, nearly all the broods have come out intothe great world. The nests will remain until next monsoon, or evenlonger, as monuments of sound workmanship. 

In September numbers of curious brown birds, heavily barred withblack, make their appearance. These are crow-pheasants that haveemerged from nests hidden away in dense thickets. In a few weeks thesebirds will lose their barred feathers and assume the black plumage andred wings of the adult. By the end of August most of the night-heronsand those of the various species of egrets that have not been killedby the plume-hunters are able to congratulate themselves on havingsuccessfully reared up their broods. In September they lose theirnuptial plumes. 

OCTOBER

 Ye strangers, banished from your native glades, Where tyrant frost with famine leag'd proclaims "Who lingers dies"; with many a risk ye win The privilege to breathe our softer air And glean our sylvan berries. GISBORNE'S _Walks in a Forest_. 

October in India differs from the English month in almost everyrespect. The one point of resemblance is that both are periods offalling temperature. 

In England autumn is the season for the departure of the migratorybirds; in India it is the time of their arrival. 

The chief feature of the English October--the falling of theleaves--is altogether wanting in the Indian autumn. 

Spring is the season in which the pulse of life beats most vigorouslyboth in Europe and in Asia; it is therefore at that time of year thatthe trees renew their garments. 

In England leaves are short-lived. After an existence of about sixmonths they "curl up, become brown, and flutter from their sprays. " InIndia they enjoy longer lives, and retain their greenness for thegreater part of a year. A few Indian trees, as, for example, theshesham, lose their foliage in autumn; the silk-cotton and the coraltrees part with their leaves gradually during the early months of thewinter, but these are the exceptions; nearly all the trees retaintheir old leaves until the new ones appear in spring, so that, in thiscountry, March, April and May are the months in which the dead leaveslie thick upon the ground. 

In many ways the autumn season in Northern India resembles the Englishspring. The Indian October may be likened to April in England. Bothare months of hope, heralds of the most pleasant period of the year. In both the countryside is fresh and green. In both millions of avianvisitors arrive. 

Like the English April, October in Northern India is welcome chieflyfor that to which it leads. But it has merits of its own. Is not eachof its days cooler than the preceding one? Does it not produce thejoyous morn on which human beings awake to find that the hot weatheris a thing of the past?

Throughout October the sun's rays are hot, but, for an hour or twoafter dawn, especially in the latter half of the month, the climateleaves little to be desired. An outing in the early morning is a thingof joy, if it be taken while yet the air retains the freshnessimparted to it by the night, and before the grass has yielded up thesparkling jewels acquired during the hours of darkness. It is good toride forth on an October morn with the object of renewing acquaintancewith nimble wagtails, sprightly redstarts, stately demoiselle cranesand other newly-returned migrants. In addition to meeting many wintervisitors, the rider may, if he be fortunate, come upon a colony ofsand-martins that has begun nesting operations. 

The husbandman enjoys very little leisure at this season of the year. From dawn till sunset he ploughs, or sows, or reaps, or threshes, orwinnows. 

The early-sown rice yields the first-fruits of the _kharif_ harvest. By the end of the month it has disappeared before the sickle and manyof the fields occupied by it have been sown with gram. The hemp(_san_) is the next crop to mature. In some parts of Northern Indiaits vivid yellow flowers are the most conspicuous feature of theautumn landscape. They are as brilliantly coloured as broom. The _san_plant is not allowed to display its gilded blooms for long, it is cutdown in the prime of life and cast into a village pond, there to soak. The harvesting of the various millets, the picking of the cotton, andthe sowing of the wheat, barley, gram and poppy begin before the closeof the month. The sugar-cane, the _arhar_ and the late-sown rice arenot yet ready for the sickle. Those crops will be cut in November andDecember. 

As in September so in October the birds are less vociferous than theywere in the spring and the hot weather. During the earlier part of themonth the notes of the koel and the brain-fever bird are heard on rareoccasions; before October has given place to November, these noisybirds cease to trouble. The pied starlings have become comparativelysubdued, their joyful melody is no longer a notable feature of theavian chorus. In the first half of the month the green barbets uttertheir familiar cries at frequent intervals; as the weather growscolder they call less often, but at no season of the year do theycease altogether to raise their voices. The _tonk_, _tonk_, _tonk_ ofthe coppersmith is rarely heard in October; during the greater part ofthe cold weather this barbet is a silent creature, reminding us of itspresence now and then by calling out _wow_ softly, as if half ashamedat the sound of its voice. The oriole now utters its winter note_tew_, and that sound is heard only occasionally. 

It is unnecessary to state that the perennials--the crows, kites, doves, bee-eaters, tree-pies, tailor-birds, cuckoo-shrikes, greenparrots, jungle and spotted owlets--are noisy throughout the month. 

The king-crows no longer utter the soft notes which they seem to keepfor the rainy season; but, before settling down to the sober delightsof the winter, some individuals become almost as lively and vociferousas they were in the nesting season. Likewise some pairs of "blue jays"behave, in September and October, as though they were about torecommence courtship; they perform strange evolutions in the air andemit harsh cries, but these lead to nothing; after a few days of noisybehaviour the birds resume their more normal habits. 

The hoopoes have been silent for some time, but in October a few ofthem take up their refrain--_uk-uk-uk-uk_, and utter it with almost asmuch vigour as they did in March. 

It would thus seem that the change of season, the approach of winter, has a stimulating influence on king-crows, rollers and hoopoes, causing the energy latent within them suddenly to become active and tomanifest itself in the form of song or dance. 

In October the pied chat and the wood-shrike frequently make sweetmelody. Throughout the month the cock sunbirds sing as lustily andalmost as brilliantly as canaries; many of them are beginning toreassume the iridescent purple plumage which they doffed some timeago. From every mango tope emanates the cheerful lay of the fantailflycatcher and the lively "Think of me ... Never to be" of thegrey-headed flycatcher. Amadavats sing sweet little songs withoutwords as they flit about among the tall grasses. 

In the early morning and at eventide, the crow-pheasants give vent totheir owl-like hoot, preceded by a curious guttural _kok-kok-kok_. Theyoung ones, that left the nest some weeks ago, are rapidly losingtheir barred plumage and are assuming the appearance of the adult. Bythe middle of November very few immature crow-pheasants are seen. 

Migration and moulting are the chief events in the feathered world atthe present season. The flood of autumn immigration, which arose as atiny stream in August, and increased in volume nightly throughoutSeptember, becomes, in October, a mighty river on the bosom of whichmillions of birds are borne. 

Day by day the avian population of the _jhils_ increases. At thebeginning of the month the garganey teal are almost the only migratoryducks to be seen on them. By the first of November brahminy duck, gadwall, common teal, widgeon, shovellers and the various species ofpochard abound. With the duck come demoiselle cranes, curlews, storks, and sandpipers of various species. The geese and the pintail ducks, however, do not return to India until November. These are the last ofthe regular winter visitors to come and the first to go. 

The various kinds of birds of prey which began to appear in Septembercontinue to arrive throughout the present month. 

Grey-headed and red-breasted flycatchers, minivets, bush-chats, rose-finches and swallows pour into the plains from the Himalayas, while from beyond those mountains come redstarts, wagtails, starlings, buntings, blue-throats, quail and snipe. Along with the other migrantscome numbers of rooks and jackdaws. These do not venture far intoIndia; they confine themselves to the North-West Frontier Province andthe Punjab, where they remain during the greater part of the winter. The exodus, from the above-mentioned Provinces, of the bee-eaters, sunbirds, yellow-throated sparrows, orioles, red turtle-doves andparadise flycatchers is complete by the end of October. The above areby no means the only birds that undergo local migration. The greatmajority of species probably move about in a methodical manner in thecourse of the year; a great deal of local migration is overlooked, because the birds that move away from a locality are replaced byothers of their kind that come from other places. 

During a spell of exceptionally cold weather a great many Himalayanbirds are driven by the snow into the plains of India, where theyremain for a few days or weeks. Some of these migrants are noticed inthe calendar for December. 

In October the annual moult of the birds is completed, so that, clothed in their warm new feathers, they are ready for winter sometime before it comes. In the case of the redstart, the bush-chat, mostof the wagtails, and some other species, the moult completely changesthe colouring of the bird. The reason of this is that the edges of thenew feathers are not of the same colour as the inner parts. Only themargins show, because the feathers of a bird overlap like slates on aroof, or the scales of a fish. After a time the edges of the newfeathers become worn away, and then the differently-hued deeper partsbegin to show, so that the bird gradually resumes the appearance ithad before the moult. When the redstarts reach India in September mostof the cocks are grey birds, because of the grey margins to theirfeathers; by the middle of April, when they begin to depart, many ofthem are black, the grey margins of the feathers having completelydisappeared; other individuals are still grey because the margins ofthe feathers are broader or have not worn so much. 

October is the month in which the falconer sallies forth to secure thehawks which will be employed in "the sport of kings" during the coldweather. There are several methods of catching birds of prey, asindeed there are of capturing almost every bird and beast. The amountof poaching that goes on in this country is appalling, and, unlessdetermined efforts are made to check it, there is every prospect ofthe splendid fauna of India being ruined. The sportsman is bound byall manner of restrictions, but the poacher is allowed to work hiswicked will on the birds and beasts of the country, almost without letor hindrance. 

The apparatus usually employed for the capture of the peregrine, theshahin and other falcons is a well-limed piece of cane, about thelength of the expanse of a falcon's wings. To the middle of this adove, of which the eyelids have been sewn up, is tied. When a wildfalcon appears on the scene the bird-catcher throws into the air thecane with the luckless dove attached to it. The dove flies aboutaimlessly, being unable to see, and is promptly pounced upon by thefalcon, whose wings strike the limed cane and become stuck to it; thenfalcon and dove fall together to the ground, where they are secured bythe bird-catcher. 

Another method largely resorted to is to tether a myna, or other smallbird, to a peg driven into the ground, and to stretch before this anet, about three feet broad and six long, kept upright by means of twosticks inserted in the ground. Sooner or later a bird of prey willcatch sight of the tethered bird, stoop to it, and become entangled inthe net. 

A third device is to catch a buzzard and tie together some of theflight feathers of the wing, so that it can fly only with difficultyand cannot go far before it falls exhausted to the ground. To the feetof the bird of which the powers of flight have been thus curtailed abundle of feathers is tied. Among the feathers several horsehairnooses are set. When a bird of prey, of the kind on which the falconerhas designs, is seen the buzzard is thrown into the air. It flapsalong heavily, and is immediately observed by the falcon, which thinksthat the buzzard is carrying some heavy quarry in its talons. Now, thebuzzard is a weakling among the raptores and all the other birds ofprey despise it. Accordingly, the falcon, unmindful of the proverbwhich says that honesty is the best policy, swoops down on the buzzardwith intent to commit larceny, and becomes entangled in the nooses. Then both buzzard and falcon fall to the ground, struggling violently. All that the bird-catcher has to do now is to walk up and secure hisprize. 

October marks the beginning of a lull in the nesting activities ofbirds, a lull that lasts until February. As we have seen, the nestingseason of the birds that breed in the rains ends in September, nevertheless a few belated crow-pheasants, sarus cranes andweaver-birds are often to be found in October still busy withnestlings, or even with eggs; the latter usually prove to be addled, and this explains the late sitting of the parent. October, however, isthe month in which the nesting season of the black-necked storks(_Xenorhynchus asiaticus_) begins, if the monsoon has been a normalone and the rains have continued until after the middle of September. This bird begins to nest shortly after the monsoon rains have ceased. Hard-set eggs have been taken in the beginning of September and aslate as 27th December. Most eggs are laid during the month of October. The nest is a large saucer-shaped platform of twigs and sticks. Humeonce found one "fully six feet long and three broad. " The nest isusually lined with grass or some soft material and is built high up ina tree. The normal number of eggs is four, these are of a dirty whitehue. 

NOVEMBER

 It is the very carnival of nature, The loveliest season that the year can show!

 * * * * *

 The gently sighing breezes, as they blow, Have more than vernal softness.... BERNARD BARTON. 

The climate of Northern India is one of extremes. Six months agoEuropean residents were seeking in vain suitable epithets ofdisapprobation to apply to the weather; to-day they are trying todiscover appropriate words to describe the charm of November. It isindeed strange that no poet has yet sung the praises of the perfectclimate of the present month. 

The cold weather of Northern India is not like any of the Englishseasons. Expressed in terms of the British climate it is a dry summer, warmest at the beginning and the end, in which the birds haveforgotten to nest. 

The delights of the Indian winter are enhanced for the Englishman bythe knowledge that, while he lives beneath a cloudless sky and enjoysgenial sunshine, his fellow-men in England dwell under leaden cloudsand endure days of fog, and mist, and rain, and sleet, and snow. InEngland the fields are bare and the trees devoid of leaves; in Indiathe countryside wears a summer aspect. 

The sowings of the spring cereals are complete by the fifteenth ofNovember; those of the tobacco, poppy and potato continue throughoutthe month. By the beginning of December most of the fields are coveredby an emerald carpet. 

The picking of the cotton begins in the latter part of October, withthe result that November is a month of hard toil for the ponies thathave to carry the heavy loads of cotton from the fields into thelarger towns. By the middle of the month all the _san_ has been cutand the water-nuts have been gathered in. Then the pressing of thesugar-cane begins in earnest. The little presses that for eight monthshave been idle are once again brought into use, and, from mid-Novemberuntil the end of January, the patient village oxen work them, trampingin circles almost without interruption throughout the short hours ofdaylight. 

The custard-apples are ripening; the cork trees are white with pendentjasmine-like flowers, and the loquat trees--the happy hunting groundof flocks of blithe little white-eyes--put forth their inconspicuousbut strongly scented blossoms. Gay chrysanthemums are the mostconspicuous feature of the garden. The shesham and the silk-cottontrees are fast losing their leaves, but all the other trees arecovered with foliage. 

The birds revel, like man, in the perfect conditions afforded by theIndian winter; indeed, the fowls of the air are affected by climate toa greater extent than man is. 

Those that winter in England suffer considerable hardship andprivation, while those that spend the cold weather in India enjoy lifeto the uttermost. 

Consider the birds, how they fare on a winter's day in England whenthere is a foot of snow lying on the ground and the keen east windwhistles through the branches of the trees. In the lee of brick walls, hayricks and thick hedges groups of disconsolate birds stand, seekingsome shelter from the piercing wind. The hawthorn berries have allbeen eaten. Insect food there is none; it is only in the summer timethat the comfortable hum of insects is heard in England. Thus theordinary food supply of the fowls of the air is greatly restricted, and scores of field-fares and other birds die of starvation. Thesnow-covered lawn in front of every house, of which the inmates are inthe habit of feeding the birds, is the resort of many featheredthings. Along with the robins and sparrows--habitual recipients of thealms of man--are blackbirds, thrushes, tits, starlings, chaffinches, rooks, jackdaws and others, which in fair weather avoid, or scorn tonotice, man. These have become tamed by the cold, and, they stand onthe snow, cold, forlorn and half-starved--a miserable company ofsupplicants for food. Throughout the short cold winter days scarcely abird note is heard; the fowls of the air are in no mood for song. 

Contrast the behaviour of the birds on a winter's day in India. Inevery garden scores of them lead a joyful existence. Little flocks ofminivets display their painted wings as they flit hither and thither, hunting insects on the leaves of trees. Amid the foliage warblers, wood-shrikes, bulbuls, tree-pies, orioles and white-eyes busily seekfor food. Pied and golden-backed woodpeckers, companies of nuthatches, and, here and there, a wryneck move about on the trunks and branches, looking into every cranny for insects. King-crows, bee-eaters, fantailand grey-headed flycatchers seek their quarry on the wing, makingfrequent sallies into the open from their leafy bowers. Butcher-birds, rollers and white-breasted kingfishers secure their victims on theground, dropping on to them silently from their watchtowers. Magpie-robins, Indian robins, redstarts and tailor-birds likewisecapture their prey on the ground, but, instead of waiting patientlyfor it to come to them, they hop about fussily in quest of it. Brightsunbirds flit from bloom to bloom, now hovering in the air onrapidly-vibrating wings, now dipping their slender curved bills intothe calyces. 

On the lawn wagtails run nimbly in search of tiny insects, hoopoesprobe the earth for grubs, mynas strut about, in company withking-crows and starlings, seeking for grasshoppers. 

Overhead, swifts and swallows dash joyously to and fro, feasting onthe minute flying things that are found in the air even on the coolestdays. Above them, kites wheel and utter plaintive cries. Higher still, vultures soar in grim silence. Flocks of emerald paroquets flypast--as swift as arrows shot from bows--seeking grain or fruit. 

In the shady parts of the garden crow-pheasants look for snakes andother crawling things, seven sisters rummage among the fallen leavesfor insects, and rose-finches pick from off the ground the tiny seedson which they feed. 

The fields and open plains swarm with larks, pipits, finch-larks, lapwings, plovers, quail, buntings, mynas, crows, harriers, buzzards, kestrels, and a score of other birds. 

But it is at the _jhils_ that bird life seems most abundant. On sometanks as many as sixty different kinds of winged things may becounted. There are the birds that swim in the deep water--the ducks, teal, dabchicks, cormorants and snake-birds; the birds that run abouton the floating leaves of water-lilies and other aquatic plants--thejacanas, water-pheasants and wagtails; the birds that wade in theshallow water and feed on frogs or creatures that lurk hidden in themud--the herons, paddy-birds, storks, cranes, pelicans, whimbrels, curlews, ibises and spoonbills; the birds that live among sedges andreeds--the snipe, reed-warblers, purple coots and water-rails. Thenthere are the birds that fly overhead--the great kite-like ospreysthat frequently check their flight to drop into the water with a bigsplash, in order to secure a fish; the kingfishers that dive so neatlyas barely to disturb the smooth surface of the lake when they enterand leave it; the graceful terns that pick their food off the face ofthe _jhil_; the swifts and swallows that feed on the insects whichalways hover over still water. 

Go where we will, be it to the sun-steeped garden, the shady mangogrove, the dusty road, the grassy plain, the fallow field, or amongthe growing crops, there do we find bird life in abundance and food inplenty to support it. 

This is not the breeding season, therefore the bird choir is not atits best, nevertheless the feathered folk everywhere proclaim thepleasure of existence by making a joyful noise. From the crowded_jhil_ emanate the sweet twittering of the wagtails, the clanging callof the geese, the sibilant note of the whistling teal, the curious_a-onk_ of the brahminy ducks, the mewing of the jacanas and thequacking of many kinds of ducks. Everywhere in the fields and thegroves are heard the cawing of the crows, the wailing of the kites, the cooing of the doves, the twittering of the sparrows, the crooningof the white-eyes, the fluting of the wood-shrikes, the tinkling ofthe bulbuls, the chattering of the mynas, the screaming of the greenparrots, the golden-backed woodpeckers and the white-breastedkingfishers, the mingled harmony and discord of the tree-pies, thesharp monosyllabic notes of the various warblers, the melody of thesunbirds and the flycatchers. The green barbets also callspasmodically throughout the month, chiefly in the early morning andthe late afternoon, but the only note uttered by the coppersmith is asoft _wow_. The hoopoe emits occasionally a spasmodic _uk-uk-uk_. 

The migrating birds continue to pour into India during the earlierpart of November. The geese are the last to arrive, they begin to comebefore the close of October, and, from the second week of Novemberonwards, V-shaped flocks of these fine birds may be seen or heardoverhead at any hour of the day or night. 

The nesting activities of the fowls of the air are at their lowest ebbin November. Some thirty species are known to rear up young in thepresent month as opposed to five hundred in May. In the UnitedProvinces the only nest which the ornithologist can be sure of findingis that of the white-backed vulture. 

Some of the amadavats are still nesting. Most of the eggs laid bythese birds in the rains yielded young ones in September, but it oftenhappens that the brood does not emerge from the eggs until the end ofOctober, with the result that in the earlier part of the present monthparties of baby amadavats are to be seen enjoying the first days oftheir aerial existence. A few black-necked storks do not lay untilNovember; thus there is always the chance of coming upon an incubatingstork in the present month. Here and there a grey partridge's nestcontaining eggs may be found. As has been said, the nesting season ofthis species is not well-defined. 

The quaint little thick-billed mites known as white-throated munias(_Munia malabarica_) are also very irregular as to their nestinghabits. Their eggs have been taken in every month of the year exceptJune. 

In some places Indian sand-martins are busy at their nests, but thebreeding season of the majority of these birds does not begin untilJanuary. 

Pallas's fishing-eagle is another species of which the eggs are likelyto be found in the present month. If a pair of these birds have a nestthey betray the fact to the world by the unmusical clamour they makefrom sunrise to sunset. 

The nesting season of the tawny eagle or wokab (_Aquila vindhiana_)begins in November. The nest is a typical raptorial one, being a largeplatform of sticks. It may attain a length of three feet and it isusually as broad as it is long; it is about six inches in depth. It isgenerally lined with leaves, sometimes with straw or grass and a fewfeathers. It is placed at the summit of a tree. Two eggs are usuallylaid. These are dirty white, more or less speckled with brown. Theyoung ones are at first covered with white down; in this respect theyresemble baby birds of prey of other species. The man who attempts totake the eggs or young of this eagle must be prepared to ward off theattack of the female, who, as is usual among birds of prey, is larger, bolder and more powerful than the male. At Lahore the writer saw atawny eagle stoop at a man who had climbed a tree and secured theeagle's eggs. She seized his turban and flew off with it, havinginflicted a scratch on his head. For the recovery of his turban theegg-lifter had to thank a pair of kites that attacked the eagle andcaused her to drop that article while defending herself from theironslaught. 

DECEMBER

 Striped squirrels raced; the mynas perked and pricked, The seven sisters chattered in the thorn, The pied fish-tiger hung above the pool, The egrets stalked among the buffaloes, The kites sailed circles in the golden air; About the painted temple peacocks flew. ARNOLD, _The Light of Asia_. 

In the eyes of the Englishman December in Northern India is a month ofhalcyon days, of days dedicated to sport under perfect climaticconditions, of bright sparkling days spent at the duck tank, at thesnipe _jhil_, in the _sal_ forest, or among the Siwaliks, days onwhich office files rest in peace, and the gun, the rifle and the rodare made to justify their existence. Most Indians, unfortunately, holda different opinion of December. These love not the cool wind thatsweeps across the plains. To them the rapid fall of temperature atsunset is apt to spell pneumonia. 

The average villager is a hot-weather organism. He is content withthin cotton clothing which he wears year in year out, whether themercury in the thermometer stand at 115 degrees or 32 degrees. However, many of the better-educated Indians have learned fromEnglishmen how to protect themselves against cold; we may thereforelook forward to the time when even the poorest Indian will be able toenjoy the health-bringing, bracing climate of the present month. 

By the 1st December the last of the spring crops has been sown, mostof the cotton has been picked, and the husbandmen are busy cutting andpressing the sugar-cane and irrigating the poppy and the _rabi_cereals. 

The crop-sown area is covered with a garment that, seen from a littledistance, appears to be made of emerald velvet. Its greenness isintensified by contrast with the dried-up grass on the grazing lands. In many places the mustard crop has begun to flower; the bright yellowblooms serve to enliven the somewhat monotonous landscape. In thegarden the chrysanthemums and the loquat trees are still in flower;the poinsettias put forth their showy scarlet bracts and the roses andviolets begin to produce their fragrant flowers. 

The bird choir is composed of comparatively few voices. Of theseasonal choristers the grey-headed flycatchers are most often heard. The fantail flycatchers occasionally sing their cheerful lay, but atthis season they more often emit a plaintive call, as if they werecomplaining of the cold. 

Some of the sunbirds are still in undress plumage; a few have not yetcome into song, these give vent only to harsh scolding notes. From thethicket emanate sharp sounds--_tick-tick_, _chee-chee_, _chuck-chuck_, _chiff-chaff_; these are the calls of the various warblers that winterwith us. Above the open grass-land the Indian skylarks are singing atHeaven's gate; these birds avoid towns and groves and gardens, inconsequence their song is apt to be overlooked by human beings. Veryoccasionally the oriole utters a disconsolate-sounding _tew_; he is atruly tropical bird; it is only when the sun flames overhead out of abrazen sky that he emits his liquid notes. Here and there a hoopoe, more vigorous than his fellows, croons softly--_uk_, _uk_, _uk_. Thecoppersmith now and then gives forth his winter note--a subdued _wow_;this is heard chiefly at the sunset hour. 

The green barbet calls spasmodically throughout December, but, as arule, only in the afternoon. Towards the end of the month some of thenuthatches and the robins begin to tune up. On cloudy days theking-crows utter the soft calls that are usually associated with therainy season. 

December, like November, although climatically very pleasant, is amonth in which the activities of the feathered folk are at acomparatively low ebb. The cold, however, sends to India thousands ofimmigrants. Most of these spend the whole winter in the plains ofIndia. Of such are the redstart, the grey-headed flycatcher, the snipeand the majority of the game birds. Besides these regular migrantsthere are many species which spend a few days or weeks in the plains, leaving the Himalayas when the weather there becomes very inclement. Thus the ornithologist in the plains of Northern India lives in astate of expectancy from November to January. Every time he walks inthe fields he hopes to see some uncommon winter visitor. It may be asmall-billed mountain thrush, a blue rock-thrush, a wall-creeper, ablack bulbul, a flycatcher-warbler, a green-backed tit, a verditerflycatcher, a black-throated or a grey-winged ouzel, a dark-greybush-chat, a pine-bunting, a Himalayan whistling thrush, or even awhite-capped redstart. Indeed, there is scarcely a species whichinhabits the lower ranges of the Himalayas that may not be driven tothe plains by a heavy fall of snow on the mountains. Naturally it isin the districts nearest the hills that most of these rare birds areseen--but there is no part of Northern India in which they may notoccur. 

The nesting activity of birds in Upper India attains its zenith inMay, and then declines until it reaches its nadir in November. WithDecember it begins again to increase. 

Of those birds whose nests were described last month the white-backedvulture, Pallas's fishing-eagle, the tawny eagle, the sand-martin andthe black-necked stork are likely to be found with eggs or young inthe present month. 

December marks the beginning of the nesting season for three largeowls--the brown fish-owl, the rock horned-owl and the duskyhorned-owl. The brown fish-owl (_Ketupa ceylonensis_) is a bird almostas large as a kite. It has bright orange orbs and long, pointedaigrettes. Its legs are devoid of feathers. According to Blanford ithas a dismal cry like _haw_, _haw_, _haw_, _ho_. "Eha" describes thecall as a ghostly hoot--a _hoo hoo hoo_, far-reaching, but coming fromnowhere in particular. These two descriptions do not seem to agree. There is nothing unusual in this. 

The descriptions of the calls of the nocturnal birds of prey given byIndia ornithologists are notoriously unsatisfactory. This is perhapsnot surprising when we consider the wealth of bird life in thiscountry. It is no easy matter to ascertain the perpetrators of thevarious sounds of the night, and, when the naturalist has succeeded infixing the author of any call, he finds himself confronted with thedifficult task of describing the sound in question. Bearing in mindthe way in which human interjections baffle the average writer, wecannot be surprised at the poor success that crowns the endeavours ofthe naturalist to syllabise bird notes. 

As regards the call of the brown fish-owl the writer has been tryingfor the past three or four years to determine by observation which ofthe many nocturnal noises are to be ascribed to this species. Withthis object he kept one of these owls captive for several weeks; thebird steadfastly refused to utter a sound. One hoot would havepurchased its liberty; but the bird would not pay the price: it sulkedand hissed. The bird in question, although called a fish-owl, does notlive chiefly on fish. Like others of its kind it feeds on birds, ratsand mice. Hume found in the nest of this species two quails, a pigeon, a dove and a myna, each with the head, neck and breast eaten away, butwith the wings, back, feet and tail remaining almost intact. "Eha" hasseen the bird stoop on a hare. The individual kept by the writerthrove on raw meat. This owl is probably called the fish-owl becauseit lives near rivers and tanks and invariably nests in the vicinity ofwater. The nest may be in a tree or on a ledge in a cliff. Sometimesthe bird utilises the deserted cradle of a fishing-eagle or vulture. The structure which the bird itself builds is composed of sticks andfeathers and, occasionally, a few dead leaves. Two white eggs arelaid. The breeding season lasts from December to March. 

The rock horned-owl (_Bubo bengalensis_) is of the same size as thefish-owl, and, like the latter, has aigrettes and orange-yellow orbs, but its legs are feathered to the toes. This owl feeds on snakes, rats, mice, birds, lizards, crabs, and even large insects. "A louddissyllabic hoot" is perhaps as good a description of its call as canbe given in words. This species breeds from December to April. Marchis the month in which the eggs are most likely to be found. Thenesting site is usually a ledge on some cliff overhanging water. Ahollow is scooped out in the ledge, and, on the bare earth, four whiteeggs are laid. 

The dusky horned-owl (_Bubo coromandus_) may be distinguished from therock-horned species by the paler, greyer plumage, and by the fact thatits eyes are deep yellow, rather than orange. Its cry has beendescribed as _wo_, _wo_, _wo_, _wo-o-o_. The writer would ratherrepresent it as _ur-r-r_, _ur-r-r_, _ur-r-r-r-r_--a low grunting soundnot unlike the call of the red turtle-dove. This owl is very partialto crows. Mr. Cripps once found fifteen heads of young crows in a nestbelonging to one of these birds. December and January are the monthsin which to look for the nest, which is a platform of sticks placed ina fork of a large tree. Two eggs are laid. 

The breeding season for Bonelli's eagle (_Hieraetus fasciatus_) beginsin December. The eyrie of this fine bird is described in the calendarfor January. 

In the Punjab many ravens build their nests during the present month. 

Throughout January, February and the early part of March ravens' nestscontaining eggs or young are likely to be seen. 

Ordinarily the nesting season of the common kite (_Milvus govinda_)does not begin until February, but as the eggs of this bird have beentaken as early as the 29th December, mention of it must be made in thecalendar for the present month. A similar remark applies to the hoopoe(_Upupa indica_). 

Doves nest in December, as they do in every other month. 

Occasionally a colony of cliff-swallows (_Hirundo flavicolla_) takestime by the forelock and begins to build one of its honeycomb-likecongeries of nests in December. This species was dealt with in thecalendar for February. 

Blue rock-pigeons mostly nest at the beginning of the hot weather. Hume, however, states that some of these birds breed as early asChristmas Day. Mr. P. G. S. O'Connor records the finding of a nesteven earlier than that. The nest in question was in a weir of a canal. The weir was pierced by five round holes, each about nine inches indiameter. Through four of these the water was rushing, but the fifthwas blocked by debris, and on this a pair of pigeons had placed theirnest. 

GLOSSARY

_Arhar_. A leguminous crop plant which attains a height of four feetor more. 

_Chik_. A curtain composed of a number of very thin strips of wood. Chiks are hung in front of doors and windows in India with the objectof keeping out insects, but not air. 

_Holi_. A Hindu festival. 

_Jhil_. A lake or any natural depression which is filled withrain-water at all or in certain seasons. 

_Kharif_. Autumn. Rice and other crops which are reaped in autumn arecalled _kharif_ crops. Crops such as wheat which are cut in spring arecalled _rabi_ crops. Two crops (sometimes three) are raised in Indiaannually. 

_Megas_. Sugar-cane from which the juice has been extracted. 

_Rabi_. Spring. See _Kharif_. 

_Shikari_. One who goes hunting or shooting. 

_Tope_. A term applied to a grove of mango trees, artificiallyplanted. Thousands of such topes exist in Northern India. In someplaces they are quite a feature of the landscape. 

INDEX

Amadavat. _See_ Red munia

Babbler, common (_Crateropus canorus_), 36, 49, 68, 82, 89, 108, 120, 124, 142, 156, 162, 163, 183--large grey (_Argya malcomi_), 162

Barbet, green (_Thereiceryx zeylonicus_), 7, 20, 53, 66, 68, 82, 89, 106, 108, 121, 138, 155, 168, 185, 192

Baya. _See_ Weaver-bird

Bee-eater, 3, 73, 74, 108, 120, 125, 139, 157, 169, 172, 182--blue-tailed (_Merops philippinus_), 43, 89--little green (_M. Viridis_), 43, 89

Blue Jay. _See_ Roller

Blue-throat, 172

Brain-fever bird. _See_ Hawk-cuckoo

Bulbul, 5, 20, 36, 65, 68, 89, 107, 108, 123, 182, 185--Bengal (_Molpastes bengalensis_), 47--black (_Hypsipetes psaroides_), 192--red-whiskered (_Otocompsa emeria_), 46

Bunting, 40, 41, 172, 183--black-headed (_Emberiza melanocephala_), 41--pine (_Emberiza leucocephala_), 193--red-headed (_Emberiza luteola_), 41

Buzzard, 175, 183--long-legged (_Buteo ferox_), 160--white-eyed (_Butastur teesa_), 30, 44, 68, 69, 89, 108, 160

Chat, 3--brown-rock (_Cercomela fuscus_), 59, 70, 89, 108, 123, 138--dark grey bush (_Oreicola ferrea_), 193--Indian bush (_Pratincola maura_), 42, 172, 173--pied bush (_Pratincola caprata_), 21, 65, 74, 89, 170

Coot, common (_Fulica atra_), 135--purple (_Porphyrio poliocephalus_), 121, 133, 135, 146, 184

Coppersmith or crimson-breasted barbet (_Xantholaema haematocephala_), 7, 20, 23, 44, 53, 66, 68, 82, 89, 106, 108, 121, 138, 169, 185, 191

Cormorant, 3, 133, 135, 142, 183

Crane, 184--demoiselle (_Anthropoides virgo_), 167, 171--sarus (_Grus antigone_), 5, 98, 133, 143, 156, 176

Creeper, wall, 192

Crow, 13, 36, 69, 119, 156, 169, 183, 185--black, or jungle crow or corby (_Corvus macrorhynchus_), 5, 25, 44, 68, 89--house (_Corvus splendens_), 5, 108, 113, 124, 125, 141, 162

Crow-pheasant or coucal (_Centropus sinensis_), 36, 82, 112, 120, 138, 142, 156, 164, 170, 176, 183

Cuckoo, European (_Cuculus canorus_), 66, 80--hawk (_Hierococcyx varius_), 20, 36, 49, 82, 84, 120, 124, 138, 155, 157, 168--Indian (_Cuculus micropterus_), 85, 120, 138--pied crested (_Coccystes jacobinus_), 114, 120, 124, 138, 142, 155, 157, 163--sirkeer (_Taccocua leschenaulti_), 124

Cuckoo-shrike (_Grauculus macii_), 5, 51, 52, 89, 108, 124, 142, 169

Curlew, 171, 184

Dabchick, or little grebe (_Podiceps albipennis_), 150, 183

Darter. _See_ Snake-bird

Dhayal. _See_ Magpie-robin

Did-he-do-it. _See_ Red-wattled lapwing

Dove, 8, 9, 21, 44, 54, 68, 89, 108, 123, 156, 162, 169, 174, 185--little brown (_Turtur cambayensis_), 5--red turtle (_Oenopopelia tranquebarica_), 157, 172--ring (_Turtur risorius_), 5--spotted (_Turtur suratensis_), 5

Drongo or king-crow (_Dicrurus ater_), 3, 36, 38, 43, 77, 90, 107, 108, 120, 121, 138, 157, 169, 170, 182, 192

Duck, 3, 133, 146, 183, 185--brahminy (_Casarca rutila_), 64, 185--comb or nukta (_Sarcidiornis melanotus_), 115, 135, 143, 149--gadwall (_Chaulelasmus streperus_), 64, 171--mallard (_Anas boscas_), 64--pintail (_Dafila acuta_), 41, 64, 171--pochard (_Netta ferina_), 64, 171--shoveller (_Spatula clypeata_), 171--spot-billed (_Anas poecilorhyncha_), 134, 135--widgeon (_Mareca penelope_), 64, 171

Eagle, 21--Bonelli's (_Hieraetus fasciatus_), 10, 44, 197--Pallas's fishing (_Haliaetus leucoryphus_), 11, 43, 187, 193--steppe (_Aquila bifasciata_), 160--tawny (_Aquila vindhiana_), 11, 44, 68, 89, 160, 187, 193

Egret, 99, 133, 134, 135, 142--cattle (_Bubulcus coromandus_), 100, 151

Falcon, lugger (_Falco jugger_), 160--peregrine (_Falco peregrinus_), 160, 161, 174--shahin (_Falco peregrinator_), 174

Finch, rose (_Carpodacus erythrinus_), 158, 172, 183

Finch-lark, ashy-crowned (_Pyrrhulauda grisea_), 28, 44, 56, 68, 89, 183

Flycatcher, 3, 185--fantail (_Rhipidura albifrontata_), 5, 29, 44, 68, 83, 89, 106, 108, 125, 142, 156, 170, 182, 191--grey-headed (_Culicicapa ceylonensis_), 6, 21, 42, 156, 170, 172, 182, 191, 192--paradise (_Terpsiphone paradisi_), 42, 43, 77, 92, 107, 108, 123, 157, 172--red-breasted (_Siphia albicilla_), 172--verditer (_Stoparola melanops_), 42, 193

Gadwall. _See_ Duck

Goatsucker. _See_ Nightjar

Goose, 3, 64, 171, 185--grey-lag (_Anser ferus_), 41

Grebe. _See_ Dabchick

Harrier, 161, 183

Hawk, sparrow, 160

Heron, 135, 184--night (_Nycticorax griseus_), 89, 113, 133, 142--pond, or paddy-bird (_Ardeola grayii_), 99, 113, 134, 142, 184

Honeysucker. _See_ Sunbird

Hoopoe (_Upupa indica_), 7, 17, 20, 23, 68, 83, 97, 108, 170, 182, 185, 191, 197

Hornbill, grey (_Lophoceros birostris_), 78, 95, 108

Ibis, 184--black (_Inocotis papillosus_), 135

Iora (_Aegithina tiphia_), 35, 65, 71, 72, 83, 89, 106, 108, 121, 123

Jacana, 121, 133, 185--bronze-winged (_Metopus indicus_), 134, 135, 144, 145, 183--pheasant-tailed (_Hydrophasianus chirurgus_), 114, 135, 144, 145, 183

Jackdaw, 3, 172

Jungle-fowl (_Gallus ferrugineus_), 108

Kestrel, 160, 161, 183

King-crow. _See_ Drongo

Kingfisher, 184, 185--pied (_Ceryle rudis_), 27, 44, 68, 88--white-breasted (_Halcyon smyrnensis_), 5, 45, 68, 73, 89, 106, 108, 121, 138, 182

Kite (_Milvus govinda_), 5, 14, 26, 44, 68, 89, 108, 119, 156, 160, 169, 183, 185, 191--black-winged (_Elanus caeruleus_), 160--brahminy (_Haliastur indicus_), 56, 68--large Indian (_Milvus melanotis_), 160

Koel (_Eudynamis honorata_), 8, 43, 82, 84, 110, 120, 124, 125, 138, 141, 155, 157, 163, 168

Lapwing, 108, 123, 183--red-wattled (_Sarcogrammus indicus_), 5, 77, 88, 89, 139--yellow-wattled (_Sarciophorus malabaricus_), 77, 89

Lark, crested (_Galerita cristata_), 21, 56, 89, 108--red-winged bush (_Mirafra erythroptera_), 123--sky (_Alauda gulgula_), 21, 68, 89, 108, 183, 191

Mallard. _See_ Duck

Martin, sand (_Cotyle sinensis_), 14, 21, 44, 68, 73, 89, 167, 187, 193

Merlin, common (_Aesalon regulus_), 160, 161--red-headed (_Aesalon chicquera_), 12, 21, 44, 68, 89, 160

Minivet, 51, 158, 172, 181--little (_Pericrocotus peregrinus_), 52, 68, 89, 125, 142

Munia, 21--red or amadavat (_Estrelda amandava_), 15, 44, 124, 140, 156, 186--white-throated (_Uroloncha malabarica_), 16, 44, 162, 186

Myna, 5, 82, 108, 156, 157, 175, 182, 183--bank (_Acridotheres ginginianus_), 59, 89, 94, 123--brahminy (_Temenuchus pagodarum_), 73, 94, 124--common (_Acridotheres tristis_), 59, 73, 93, 124, 142, 162, 185--pied. _See_ Pied Starling

Nightjar, 53, 66, 87, 89, 108--Franklin's (_Caprimulgus monticolus_), 37, 88--Horsfield's (_Caprimulgus horsfieldi_), 37, 88, 106--Indian (_Caprimulgus asiaticus_), 37, 88

Nuthatch (_Sitta castaneiventris_), 7, 20, 23, 44, 68, 83, 88, 182, 192

Openbill (_Anastomus oscitans_), 142

Oriole, 78, 83, 106, 108, 124, 138, 156, 157, 169, 172, 182, 191--black-headed (_Oriolus melanocephalus_), 20, 42--Indian (_Oriolus kundoo_), 42, 90

Osprey, 3, 160, 161, 184

Ouzel, black-throated (_Merula atrigularis_), 193--grey-winged (_Merula boulboul_), 193

Owl, 66, 159--barn (_Strix flammea_), 29, 49--brown fish (_Ketupa ceylonensis_), 14, 21, 44, 193, 194, 195--collared scops (_Scops bakkamaena_), 22, 44, 87--dusky horned (_Bubo coromandus_), 6, 14, 22, 193, 196--mottled wood (_Syrnium ocellatum_), 22, 44--rock horned (_Bubo bengalensis_), 14, 21, 44, 193, 195

Owlet, jungle (_Glaucidium radiatum_), 6, 86, 138, 169--spotted (_Athene brama_), 6, 53, 68, 86, 88, 98, 118, 138, 169

Paddy-bird. _See_ Pond-heron

Paroquet or green parrot, 5, 30, 36, 68, 88, 97, 156, 169, 183, 185--alexandrine (_Palaeornis eupatrius_), 31, 44--rose-winged (_Palaeornis torquatus_), 31, 44, 53

Parrot, green _See_ Paroquet

Partridge, black (_Francolinus vulgaris_), 98, 107, 138--grey (_Francolinus pondicerianus_), 76, 89, 97, 108, 162, 186

Pea-fowl (_Pavo cristatus_), 98, 124, 138, 142, 162

Pelican, 3, 184

Pie, tree (_Dendrocitta rufa_), 5, 36, 59, 68, 89, 108, 123, 169, 185

Pigeon, blue rock (_Columba intermedia_), 17, 22, 69, 89, 108, 197--green (_Crocopus phoenicopterus_), 89, l08, 123

Pipit (_Anthus rufulus_), 56, 68, 89, 108

Plover, 142, 183--little ringed (_Aegialitis dubia_), 89--spur-winged (_Hoplopterus ventralis_), 57, 89--swallow (_Glareola lactea_), 57

Pochard. _See_ Duck

Quail, 64, 183--grey (_Coturnix communis_), 159, 172--rain (_Coturnix coromandelica_), 121

Rail, water (_Rallus indicus_), 184

Raven, 3, 14, 44, 197

Redstart, Indian (_Ruticilla frontalis_), 158, 167, 172, 173, 182, 192--white-capped (_Chimarrhornis leucocephalus_), 193

Robin, Indian (_Thamnobia cambayensis_), 21, 35, 59, 65, 76, 89, 108, 123, 182, 191--magpie (_Copsychus saularis_), 8, 35, 65, 73, 74, 83, 89, 106, 108, 120, 121, 123, 138, 155, 182

Roller or "blue jay" (_Coracias indica_), 38, 39, 53, 67, 73, 83, 89, 106, 108, 123, 139, 141, 156, 169, 170, 182

Rook, 3, 172

Sand-grouse, 77, 89

Sandpiper, 171

Seven Sisters. _See_ Babbler

Shikra (_Astur badius_), 69, 89, 160

Shoveller. _See_ Duck

Shrike, 38, 50, 68, 89, 108, 123, 142, 182--bay-backed (_Lanius vittatus_), 51--large grey (_Lanius lahtora_), 21, 32, 50--rufous-backed (_Lanius erythronotus_), 51

Skimmer, Indian (_Rhynchops albicollis_), 57

Skylark. _See_ Lark

Snake-bird (_Plotus melanogaster_), 3, 133, 135, 142, 183

Snipe, 3, 64, 139, 158, 172, 184, 192--fantail or full (_Gallinago coelestis_), 140--jack (_Gallinago gallinula_), 140--pintail (_Gallinago stenura_), 139

Sparrow (_Passer domesticus_), 54, 89, 108, 123, 185--yellow-throated (_Gymnorhis flavicollis_), 43, 73, 89, 157, 172

Spoonbill, 135, 142

Starling, 3, 172, 182--pied (_Sternopastor contra_), 77, 94, 107, 124, 138, 142, 155, 168--rosy (_Pastor roseus_), 36, 40, 139

Stork, 171, 184--black-necked (_Xenorhynchus asiaticus_), 176, 186, 193--white-necked (_Dissura episcopus_), 113, 124, 135, 142

Sunbird, purple (_Arachnechthra asiatica_), 3, 6, 8, 20, 24, 36, 43, 44, 65, 68, 89, 106, 108, 123, 156, 157, 170, 172, 182, 185, 191

Swallow, 172, 182, 184--Indian cliff (_Hirundo fluvicola_), 17, 22, 44, 68, 89, 133, 140, 197--wire-tailed (_Hirundo smithii_), 54, 68, 89, 108, 124, 125, 142

Swift (_Cypselus indicus_), 54, 68, 89, 108, 123, 142, 182, 184

Tailor-bird (_Orthotomus sutorius_), 5, 59, 65, 72, 82, 89, 108, 124, 169, 182

Teal, 3, 64, 143, 171, 183--cotton (_Nettopus coromandelianus_), 121, 135, 148--garganey or blue-winged (_Querquedula circia_), 139, 159, 171--whistling (_Dendocygna javanica_), 185

Tern, 57, 68, 142, 184--black-bellied (_Sterna melanogaster_), 57--river, (_Sterna seena_), 57

Thrush, blue rock (_Petrophila cyanus_), 192--Himalayan whistling (_Myophoneus temmincki_), 193--small-billed mountain (_Oreocincla dauma_), 192

Tit, green-backed (_Parus monticola_), 192

Vulture, 21, 159, 183--Pondicherry or black (_Otogyps calvus_), 26, 44, 68, 88--scavenger (_Neophron ginginianus_), 56, 68, 89--white-backed (_Pseudogyps bengalensis_), 9, 68, 186, 193

Wagtail, 156, 157, 167, 172, 173, 182, 183, 184--grey (_Motacilla melanope_), 158--masked (_Motacilla personata_), 158--pied (_Motacilla maderaspatensis_), 59, 65, 74, 89--white (_Motacilla alba_), 158--white-faced (_Motacilla leucopsis_), 158

Warbler, 139, 156, 181, 185, 191--ashy wren (_Prinia socialis_), 124, 132, 142--flycatcher (_Cryptolopha xanthoschista_), 192--Indian wren (_Prinia inornata_), 48, 68, 108, 124, 131, 142--reed (_Acrocephalus stentoreus_), 184

Water-hen, white-breasted (_Gallinula phoenicura_), 98, 124, 133, 146

Weaver-bird or baya (_Ploceus baya_), 114, 127, 142, 163, 176

Whimbrel, 184

White-eye (_Zosterops palpebrosa_), 5, 65, 71, 89, 108, 123, 180, 182, 185

Widgeon. _See_ Duck

Woodpecker, golden-backed (_Brachypternus aurantius_), 5, 53, 68, 89, 106, 108, 121, 182--pied (_Liopicus mahrattensis_), 28, 44, 53, 68, 89, 182

Wood-shrike (_Tephrodornis pondicerianus_), 7, 32, 51, 65, 68, 89, 170, 182, 185

Wryneck, 182

ANIMALS OF NO IMPORTANCEBY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Nature_. --"We may commend the book as an excellent example of 'Natureteaching. '"

_Literary World_. --"Mr. Dewar makes us laugh while he teaches us.... These twenty essays are in all ways delightful. "

_Saturday Review_. --"A number of excellent books on NaturalHistory ... Proceed from Anglo-Indian authors; and certainly this ... Isworthy of its predecessors. "

_Academy_. --"A chatty anecdote book ... Showing a sense of humour andkindly insight ... Many amusing stories. "

_Indian Daily News_. --"Brightly and cleverly written ... Pleasant andamusing reading. "

_Morning Post_ (Delhi). --"A treasure-trove of literary art. "

_Madras Mail_. --"Mr. Dewar ... Displays quite remarkable knowledge andinsight as well as a pretty wit.... Mr. Dewar's volume is calculatedto give delight to all who are interested in the creatures of God'searth. Its humours will raise many a smile, while its keenness andaccuracy of observation should induce many readers to study moreclosely the ... Life ... Around them. "

_Civil and Military Gazette_. --"Shows the faculty of observation aswell as a pleasant style. "

_Englishman_. --"The reader will easily fall under the sway of thewriter's charms.... Mr. Dewar's book is as interesting as it isentertaining. "

BOMBAY DUCKSAN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE EVERYDAY BIRDS AND BEASTS FOUND IN ANATURALIST'S EL DORADOBY DOUGLAS DEWARILLUSTRATED BY MAJOR F. D. S. FAYRER

PRESS OPINIONS

_Standard_. --"The book is entertaining, even to a reader who is not anaturalist first and a reader afterwards.... The illustrations cannotbe too highly praised. "

_Daily News_. --"A charming introduction to a great many interestingbirds. "

_Scotsman_. --"Like a good curry, it is richly and agreeably seasonedwith a pungent humour. "

_Manchester Guardian_. --"A series of clever and accurate essays onIndian Natural History written by a man who really knows the birds andbeasts. "

_Daily Chronicle_. --"A series of informing and often divertingchapters. "

_Tribune_. --"Those who know India ... Will find themselves smilingagain and again at the vivid recollection called up by thesedescriptions. "

_Times_. --"A collection of bright popular papers by an observantnaturalist. "

_Pall Mall Gazette_. --"Most entertaining dissertations on the tricksand manners of many birds and beasts in India. "

_Yorkshire Daily Observer_. --"This handsome and charming book ... Theauthor has many interesting observations to record, and he does so ina very racy manner. "

_Spectator_. --"Mr. Douglas Dewar's book is excellent ... Thephotographs of birds by Captain Fayrer ... Are most remarkable. "

_Graphic_. --"Light and easy, yet full of information. "

_County Gentleman_. --"Thoroughly interesting. "

_Illustrated London News_. --"Mr. Dewar ... Has collected a series ofessays on bird life which for sprightliness and charm are equal toanything written since that classic 'The Tribes on my Frontier' waspublished. "

_Shooting Times_. --"... A more delightful work ... Has not passedthrough our hands for many a long day.... There is not a dull line inthe book, which is beautifully illustrated. "

_Truth_. --"... A naturalist with a happy gift for writing in a brightand entertaining way, yet without any sacrifice of scientificaccuracy. "

_Outlook_. --"... The essays make pleasant reading.... We doubt ifanything better has been done in bird photography. "

_Pioneer_. --"... Not only is the book very fascinating to read, butmost instructive. "

_Indian Daily News_. --"Mr. Dewar's excellent book ... Beautifullyillustrated. "

_Indian Daily Telegraph_. --"Mr. Dewar's book is of the kind ofdelightful volume which is always to be kept at hand and dipped into. "

_Madras Mail_. --"Phil Robinson delighted a generation that knew not'Eha, ' and now Mr. Dewar will complete a trio which, for some time tocome at least, will stand for all that is best in that branch ofliterature which they have made their own. "

_Civil and Military Gazette_. --"A volume which is far the best of itskind since the immortal works of Phil Robinson and 'Eha. '"

_The Indian Field_. --"... These charming chapters.... There is not adull paragraph in the whole book. "

BIRDS OF THE PLAINSBY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Daily Chronicle_. --"Here is a work worthy of all commendation tothose who love birds. "

_Daily Graphic_. --"... A work which all bird lovers will welcome ... Beautifully illustrated. "

_Daily Express_. --"... Light, sprightly and thoroughly entertaining. "

_Globe_. --"Mr. Dewar ... Is gifted with the descriptive art in a highdegree, and his vivacious style communicates the characters and habitsof the birds with unerring fidelity and infinite spirit. "

_Sportsman_. --"Mr. Dewar has a delightfully simple and quaintlyhumorous way of expressing himself, and his clever word-pictures ofbird-life make charming reading. "

_Manchester Guardian_. --"His breezy style is pleasant and easyreading. The photographs deserve the highest praise. "

_Manchester Courier_. --"Mr. Dewar has produced a book that willdelight not only ornithologists, but all who have the good fortune tolight on this humorously instructive volume. "

_Western Morning News_. --"The book is enjoyable from the playfulpreface to the last chapter. "

_Spectator_. --"... The contents are excellent. "

_Field_. --"... It may well stand on the same bookshelf with theentertaining and instructive writings of 'Eha. '"

_Madame_. --"... Accounts of many birds written in the author'sinimitable style. "

_Outlook_. --"... As charming a volume--avowedly ornithological--as ithas been our good fortune to encounter. "

_Sunday Times_. --"Mr. Dewar, like Goldsmith, has a delightful style. "

_Pall Mall Gazette_. --"Mr. Dewar's volume is one of the best recentexamples of sound information conveyed in attractive literary form. "

_Literary World_. --"Upon every page ... There is a merit to justifythe existence of the page. "

_Dundee Advertiser_. --"... Just as good reading as ... 'Bombay Ducks, 'and to say so much is to bestow high praise. "

_Birmingham Post_. --"There is a gladness in his aspect, a pleasinginquisitiveness concerning bird mystery, and a simple, candid style ofself-revelation in his essays full of fascination, with touches nowand again that remind one of the descriptive qualities of Francis A. Knight. The wood-joy that inspired the felicitous phrases anddelightful reflections of John Burroughs in the Western Hemispherefinds its counterpart in these Indian bird-pictures. "

_Indian Field_. --"... Not a volume that will grow dusty and uncaredfor on a neglected shelf. "

_Times of India_. --"The book has a charm all its own, and is writtenwith rare humour, a humour that in no way detracts from its scientificutility. "

_Englishman_. --"One of the most interesting books on bird-life we haveseen. "

INDIAN BIRDSA KEY TO THE COMMON BIRDS OF THE PLAINS OF INDIABY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Pall Mall Gazette_. --"This practical and useful work ... Is a key tothe everyday birds of the Indian plains, in which birds are classifiedaccording to their habits and outward differences ... And familiaritywith these pages would enable the average man in a few weeks to knowall the birds he meets in an Indian station. "

_Daily Mail_. --"The plan of this clever little volume ... Is as simpleas it is ingenious.... It is a safe and thorough guide. "

_Athenaeum_. --"Mr. Dewar is a capable guide. "

_Manchester Guardian_. --"... New, original and invaluable to thebeginner ... It is a small book, but it represents a wonderful amountof thoughtful ingenuity and patient work. "

_Daily News_. --"We feel inclined to defy any Indian bird to hide itsidentity from an enquirer armed with this volume. "

_Truth_. --"An admirable practical handbook of Indian ornithology. "

_Scotsman_. --"Mr. Dewar's compact, clearly classified, concise andcomprehensive manual ... Cannot but prove eminently serviceable. "

_Spectator_. --"The book is most carefully compiled and much ingenuityis displayed in framing this artificial analysis. "

_Western Daily Mercury_. --"A very interesting volume. "

_Manchester Courier_. --"All ornithologists in India ... Willappreciate and value 'Indian Birds. '"

_Literary Post_. --"... A model of all that such a book should be. "

_Pioneer_. --"The plan of the book is unique.... It can be heartilyrecommended. "

_Indian Field_. --"We can thoroughly recommend this book to all notversed in ornithology and who wish to know our birds without having tokill them. "

JUNGLE FOLKACCOUNTS OF SOME OF THE SMALLER FRY OF THE INDIAN JUNGLEBY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Westminster Gazette_. --"Mr. Dewar writes brightly and cleverly aboutthese lesser jungle folk. "

_Scotsman_. --"... Interesting and delightful. "

_Evening Standard_. --"The author ... Writes not only out of thefulness of his knowledge, but in a pleasant unpedantic style. "

_Liverpool Daily Post_. --"... Most readable and enjoyable. "

_Sunday Times_. --"We give his book the highest praise possible when wesay that it will serve as a matter-of-fact commentary to Mr. Kipling's'Jungle Books. '"

_Irish Independent_. --"... A work of the most captivating charm. "

_Outlook_. --"... Pleasant little essays. "

_Literary World_. --"This lively book ... Abounds in word-pictures andhappy humour. "

_Glasgow Evening News_. --"Mr. Douglas Dewar writes with accustomedgrace and sympathetic knowledge. "

_Academy_. --"... With Mr. Dewar there is a smile on every page, andhis touch is so light that one only realises, when the process is atan end, that a large amount of information has been imparted in anamusing form. "

_Western Morning News_. --"Every page makes for easy reading and readyattention. "

_Shooting Times_. --"... Delightful reading. "

_Catholic Herald_. --"Quite the most interesting natural history workwe have seen for a long time. "

_Manchester Courier_. --"Mr. Dewar's ... Shrewd observation, his quainthumour and his wide knowledge of Indian bird-life make his every pageinteresting. "

_The World_. --"We have read and enjoyed much of his work before, butwe think that 'Jungle Folk' makes even more delightful reading thananything that has come from its author's pen. "

_Birmingham Daily Post_. --"... Entertaining sketches ... And lightdissertations. "

_Times of India_. --"Mr. Dewar's bright and pleasant pages. "

_Madras Mail_. --"The reader who has perused Mr. Dewar's books merelyfor amusement will find that he has incidentally added a good deal tohis knowledge of Indian natural history. "

GLIMPSES OF INDIAN BIRDSBY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Globe_. --"Mr. Dewar gives us something more than 'glimpses' of Indianbird-life in his very interesting volume. "

_Standard_. --"Not the least merit of the book is the author'sunwillingness to take anything for granted. "

_Spectator_. --"We know nothing better to recommend to an amateurornithologist who finds himself in India for the first time. "

_Guardian_. --"... Vivid and delightful. "

_Observer_. --"... Full of special knowledge. "

_Scotsman_. --"... A lively and interesting series of short studies. "

_Daily Graphic_. --"The book is full of the right sort of informationabout birds. "

_Field_. --"... Chatty and graphically written. "

_Daily Citizen_. --"... Very pleasant and very instructive reading. "

_The World_. --"We have read and enjoyed his earlier efforts, but wethink that his latest will be found the most valuable and enduring ofall his work. "

_Pall Mall Gazette_. --"... Much first-hand observation andexperience. "

_Birmingham Daily Post_. --"These ... 'glimpses' ... So full of alertobservation and racy description, are delightful and informingreading. "

_Newcastle Daily Chronicle_. --"... His accounts ... Make us feel thatwe have been with him in something more than the spirit. "

_Pioneer_. --"The charm of the volume ... Lies in the evidence of theimmense amount of observation carried out by the writer. "

BIRDS OF INDIAN HILLSA GUIDE TO THE COMMON BIRDS OF THE INDIAN HILL STATIONSBY DOUGLAS DEWAR

PRESS OPINIONS

_Sunday Times_. --"Excellent is hardly good enough a term for thisvolume. "

_Times_. --"Mr. Dewar writes accurately and vividly of his selectedgroup of birds in the Himalayas and Nilgiris, and adds a list of thoseto be found in the Palni Hills. "

_Field_. --"Mr. Dewar gives short descriptions of the most notablespecies, not in wearisome detail as affected by some writers, but in afew sentences which carry enough to enable the reader to recognise abird when he sees it. "

_Aviatic Review_. --"... A very useful, compact little volume. "

_Pall Mall Gazette_. --"The book will appeal most of all to those whohave occasion to visit Indian hill stations. "

_Morning Post_. --"Now and again he gives us little pictures ofbird-life, which are pleasant proofs that he is, like M. Fabre, amaster of the new science that will not select the facts or distortthem to suit some splendid generalisation. "

THE MAKING OF SPECIESBY DOUGLAS DEWAR AND FRANK FINN_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS_A BOOK THAT BRINGS DARWINISM UP TO DATE

PRESS OPINIONS

_Truth_. --"'The Making of Species' will do much to arrest thefossilisation of biological science in England. "

_Outlook_. --"... A book of knowledge and originality. Messrs. Dewarand Finn are capable investigators. This work is thoroughlycharacteristic of our day. A long volume full of interest and veryclearly written. "

_Literary World_. --"The book is certainly to be welcomed for theconcise way in which it deals with the greatest problem of zoology. "

_Aberdeen Free Press_. --"The book is well written. We do not doubtthat the work will produce good fruit and attract considerableattention. "

_Daily Telegraph_. --"Interesting and suggestive. It should receivewide attention. "

_Dublin Daily Express_. --"The merits of the book are undoubtedlygreat. We recommend it to the attentive study of all who areinterested in the subject of evolution. "

_Manchester Courier_. --"The amateur entering this perplexing fieldcould hardly have a better guide. "

_Nation_. --"An exceptionally interesting book. "

_Scotsman_. --"Impartial and awakening. "

_Bristol Mercury_. --"The authors ... Handle a subject which has anobvious controversial side with strength, and there are convincingqualities as well as lucidity in the views so admirably set forth. "

_Times_. --"The two authors ... Deal suggestively with the difficultiesof natural selection ... And their arguments are supported by a goodlyarray of facts. "

_Liverpool Courier_. --"Contains a great deal of well-marshalledobservation. "

_Lancet_. --"A very interesting book ... Simply and clearly written. "

_Dundee Advertiser_. --"... A book which is at the same time one of themost interesting and readable on the controversial aspects of naturalhistory published in recent years. "

_The Christian World_. --"This very interesting work. "

_Bristol Times_. --"A work of value, which will give occasion to manyto think, and an admirable presentation of facts. "

_Westminster Review_. --"... Written in popular language and containsmany original observations. "

_Daily Chronicle_. --"An interesting and suggestive book. "