THE NATURALIST IN A TRAIN 85 



Once again the land becomes parched, and a hoopoe 

 (Upupa indica\ Solomon's brilliant messenger, is seen 

 making its way with undulating laboured flight. 



And so interminable numbers of birds appear in 

 rapid succession. 



Nor are mammals wanting. These, of course, are 

 neither so numerous nor so conspicuous as the birds. 

 Apart from the domesticated animals, monkeys and 

 black buck (Antilope bezoarticd) are the mammals most 

 frequently seen from a railway train in Northern India. 

 The latter are now, alas, far less frequent than they 

 used to be. 



Writers of fifty years ago speak of the vast herds of 

 these elegant herbivora which abounded in those days. 

 Such multitudes are almost unknown in most parts 

 of Upper India in this twentieth century. The com- 

 panies are now few and far between, and so sadly have 

 they diminished in size that a tiny herd, consisting of 

 one solitary dark-skinned buck, surrounded by his little 

 harem of fawn-coloured does, has become no uncommon 

 sight. 



As the grey mists of dawn are lifting, or when the 

 sinking sun has become transformed into a great fiery 

 ball, seen through miles of dust and smoke, jackals 

 may here and there be observed sneaking furtively 

 back to their " earth," or from it, on their way to help 

 their comrades form a search-party which will presently 

 render the night hideous by its unearthly yells. 



The fauna of the railway station is not devoid of 

 interest. There is such a fauna, for on this little earth 

 of ours there is no nook or cranny in which Nature has 



