$ THE BIRDS OF CALCUTTA. 



Calcutta, where shamas are so much kept that men make 

 a trade of breeding maggots and catching grass-hoppers 

 for their daily supply. At the same time, breeding the 

 Dhyal is distinctly a feather in any amateur's cap, while it 

 also shows that the bird itself is ready to accept fresh condi- 

 tions. In a wild state it ranges, indeed, over a very large terri- 

 tory, including all the Indian Empire. It is, however, more 

 especially a plains bird, although it ascends the Himalayas 

 up to about 5,000 feet. At its eastern limits in South 

 Tenasserim the black in the wings and tail begins to in- 

 crease at the expense of the white, but not in places where 

 it is noticeable on a casual view. 



Nowhere have I seen the Dhyal so common as in Ross 

 Island in the Andamans, where in the morning the air is 

 full of the music of these birds, and they are to be seen 

 everywhere and are particularly tame. I really don't 

 know what they all live upon, for insects were not at all 

 plentiful as far as I could see when I was there. 



I have not noticed the Dhyal's music in Calcutta, but he 

 does not get much chance there with the noise constantly 

 kept up by the kites and crows. But he is certainly one of 

 the birds which give the lie to the oft-repeated assertion 

 that Indian birds have no song. Another is his cousin, 

 the shama above mentioned, which is probably more 

 numerous in cages than the Dhyal is in the wild state. 

 The shama is a smaller bird than the Dhyal, but has a 

 longer black and white tail and a bright chestnut stomach, 

 so that he shows three colours. He has a voice of great 

 power and much variety of note, and is far superior to any 

 European singing bird except the nightingale. As he 



