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 (Axétilope bezoartica) 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 zs such a fauna, for on this little earth 
of ours there is no nook or cranny in which Nature has 
