INDIA 185 
When this was finally arranged it was pitch-dark and I felt hap- 
pier when I had got back to the river-bed, where at least I could 
walk with ease and see ahead of me with my torch. As every 
morning revealed the footprints of a tiger along this sandy track 
and, as usual, I had no gun, the escapade had its exciting side. 
Next morning I was up at 4 a.m. and set out for the bee-eaters’ 
sleeping quarters in order to arrive there by daybreak. I seemed 
to be waiting an age before anything happened. I suppose early 
rising on the part of forest-dwelling bee-eaters would serve no 
purpose as there would be few of their favorite insects around 
until sunrise. 
At last one of the pair scuttled out of the hole and while he, 
in a bewildered fashion, was busy trying to find a way through 
the net, I shot out of my hiding-place and caught him. His mate 
must have heard me thumping over the ground for it was fully 
a quarter of an hour before she emerged and met the same fate. 
What impressed me most about these birds was their great size, 
their curious neck hackles, and their slight musky odor. 
In the deep gorges of the forested hillsides, where the music of 
the water rushing wildly over boulders drowns the call of the 
forest-dwelling birds, one is almost sure to find the Himalayan 
Whistling Thrush—a massive bird, about a food in length and 
thrush-like in form, though, unlike the true thrushes, its young 
are not spotted. It is a striking bird of blue-black plumage which 
looks bright blue in certain lights owing to the metallic blue 
tips to the feathers. Its whistling call-notes are quite pleasant but 
have a certain harsh penetrating quality that makes them heard 
above the roar of the torrents. It is almost wholly terrestrial, living 
on aquatic insects and snails. Seeing it in its native haunts gives 
one the impression that it is a wild independent creature, quite 
unlike most of the purely forest-dwelling birds that often band 
together in parties. This spirit manifests itself in captivity, for if 
the Whistling Thrush is mixed up with birds smaller than himself 
he often reveals himself as a bloody murderer. 
Most of the interesting birds in the forest of the Himalayan 
foothills are strictly arboreal, and those I remember best at Siliguri 
were Scarlet Minivets, Silver-eared Mesias, Chestnut-bellied Nut- 
hatches, Racket-tailed Drongos, Blue-throated Barbets and various 
