Down in Jungleland: Homeland Security

Other birds that build conventional cup-like nests, woven neatly out of grass, often conceal their home marvelously: I’ve seen bulbuls dive repeatedly into the garden hedge — and having thrust my own head into it, have failed to spot their home. The little purple sunbird builds its hanging nest out of cobweb, dead leaves, twigs and rubbish, making it resemble a jhuggi-jhopri which merges uncannily into the background. The weavers, with their classical woven pendant nests, try to hang them over water and keep the entrances on the underside, though this does not always deter snakes, or even raptors (some predatory birds like crows and buzzards are like the lunatic fringe —  they tear apart a delicately-built nest to gulp down the babies). Some birds, like orioles and doves, build their nests in the same tree where fiercely protective species like black drongoes do, taking advantage of the kotwal’s (policeman’s) presence. Those nefarious blue-rock doves, who can’t build for nuts, have started taking advantage of our good nature and build their homes (and have orgies) wherever they please — window sills, verandah awnings, air-conditioning ducts and, at least in one case, on the top of a fridge in the kitchen.

Then there is the large clan of cavity nesters. While woodpeckers and barbets drill their own homes, several others like mynas, parakeets, owls, magpie-robins and hornbills, use ready-made cavities, either natural or usurped from the “drillers”. I have seen a woodpecker being ousted from its home by a myna, who in turn, a week later was ousted by bees who decided the cavity would be a great place for a hive. One magpie-robin I met on the Ridge in Delhi baffled me briefly: it zipped into its cavity, its mouth full of groceries for its babies, but never came out. And then it turned up again with another beak-full of goodies. I discovered that it was leaving via a backdoor, to prevent me from seeing it leaving the nest! Hornbills also nest in cavities and are extremely neurotic about security. Once the missus enters the hollow to lay her eggs, she and her husband seal the entrance with mud and her droppings, leaving just a slit through which the devoted husband feeds her throughout her incubation (it is a very touching sight to see this large clumsy bird with its pickaxe bill delicately feed his wife with tiny neem berries, one at a time!) Once the chicks hatch, both parents are required to feed the babies, so the female now breaks out — and her babies seal up the entrance again, leaving a letterbox slit through which rations are delivered. When they’re big enough, they too break free. I’ve always wondered what might happen if Mr. Hornbill suddenly discovered reinforced concrete and decided to use that to keep his family secure. Hoopoes, who also nest in cavities, simply keep a filthy, stinking home that no one dares come close to!

Colony nesters like herons, storks, cormorants, and egrets et al nest in huge noisy fishmarket-like aggregations where there’s safety in numbers. The greater the number of chicks yelling their heads off, the lesser chance of any one of them being picked up by a cruising fishing-eagle. Some birds like lapwings, peafowl and partridges, make do with a scrape in the ground and cryptically coloured eggs. It’s very easy to miss these as they blend with the ground almost perfectly, but only if the idiotic parent bird keeps quiet! A lapwing parent-to-be watching you approach (oblivious that there may be a nest around) will dive-bomb you, shrieking its head off and then give the famous broken-wing display, luring you away from where its eggs are. Ah, it may work with dogs and foxes, but you know now, there’s a nest around and a lapwing-egg omelet on the menu!