i84 GLIMPSES OF INDIAN BIRDS 



uttering harsh cries of anger, take to their wings and 

 fly off to right and to left of the path of the harrier, 

 as though they were soldiers performing a manoeuvre. 

 Thus the bird of prey flies over a field which is ap- 

 parently devoid of living creatures. But long before 

 he is out of sight the little birds have again come to 

 the surface, the mynas have returned, and all are 

 feeding as merrily as before. So cautious are the 

 smaller birds that even a dove flying overhead causes 

 them to drop into the depths of the crop. They do 

 not wait to see the nature of the living object — to do 

 so might mean death. 



It may perhaps be thought that, if birds are thus 

 in constant fear of being devoured, their life must 

 be fraught with anxiety. Far from it. Birds know 

 not what death is. Instinct teaches them to avoid 

 birds of prey, but they probably enjoy the sudden 

 dash for cover. The smaller fry appear to look upon 

 the raptorial bird in much the same light as children 

 regard the " bogey man." For some unknown reason, 

 they are afraid of him, but at the same time he affords 

 them a certain amount of amusement. 



