862 



ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 



short's of Maine and Nova Scotia it is not an 

 uncommon sight to sec the bald eagle itself 

 walking ungainly about in search of the refuse 

 of the fishermen. The kite of India has brought 

 unusual facilities to aid him in his new field, 

 and the more we see of him the more we admire 

 the savoir-faire which he shows in his mastery 

 of the water, the earth and the air. One never 

 tires of watching these birds about the harbors, 

 now soaring, now perching upon the rigging, 

 now swooping to the surface and with wings and 

 tail lifted, daintily seizing some morsel with their 

 talons. A few flaps then take them upward and 

 give such impetus that the feet may be stretched 

 forward to meet the beak, when the bird pro- 

 ceeds to feed as calmly and leisurely as if the 

 process of flight needed no supervision, the wings 

 and tail apparently taking care of themselves. 

 supporting and steering their owner safely until 

 the last bit of food is swallowed, when tin- 

 faculties of the Iliad again assume command. 



In tlie city itself — Calcutta or Rangoon — the 

 Brahminy is not seen, the brown pariah kite 

 holding sway as best he can against a new 

 rival, the house crow. Much has been written 

 of this latter bird but still more remains unsaid. 

 As the two kites have each found their niche 

 in life, so the guilds of house and jungle crow 

 keep more or less to their appointed zones of 

 influence. In comparison with the house crows 

 of India, our English sparrow is wariness itself. 

 The crows will enter one's very room at the 

 hotel in search of food, and when dining on an 

 outside balcony, if a table is left unguarded for 

 a moment, a black-winged arrow descends 

 straightway upon toast or butter and bears it 

 off in triumph before the turbaned waiters can 

 move a step. The house crow is trim and sleek, 

 pleasant to look upon and with a brain which 

 lias few equals among the class of birds. 



As wc leave the heart of the city, the su- 

 periority of the crows diminishes, giving way 

 to the greater brute force of the pariah kites 

 and dogs, but it is not until we reach some 

 suburb that we enter the realm of the greatest 

 of all scavengers, the great vulture host of 

 India. Unlike all the lesser factors in this field 

 of usefulness, these great birds ply their trade 

 with the least amount of effort; in fact, even 

 a keen observer of bird life, might travel in 

 India for many scores of miles without 

 seeing a single vulture. But at the appointed 

 time and place, no more wonderful sight awaits 

 the ornithologist than the gathering of these 

 clans. 



When near a large Indian city, one treads 

 some great road like that which delighted the 

 heart of Kim, there comes to the ear the loud 



call of mvnas, and the harsh notes of magpies or 

 rollers ; a distant crow may give voice or a kite 

 squeal from a house-top. The sky is clear, 

 blazing blue, marred by neither cloud nor the 

 form of any bird. A horse or bullock falls by 

 the roadside and is surrounded at once by a 

 shouting, gesticulating crowd of natives. A 

 crow flies over and adds his shout of approval to 

 the uproar, thereby summoning all of his clan 

 in the neighborhood. 



Later the stricken animal is carried away to 

 some spot set apart for the city refuse, but long 

 before it has reached its destination a great 

 shadow passes and with a loud rush of wings a 

 huge brown form swoops low overhead and 

 swings up to the topmost branch of a dead tree. 

 A glance upward shows the sky full of vultures 

 all descending swiftly in great spirals focussed 

 upon this single speck of earth. Dozens are 

 close at hand, scores of others afar off, while 

 the straining eye discovers, now here, now there. 

 still more coming constantly into sight, at first 

 the least of motes against the blue, then taking 

 form and motion, and finally assuming the indi- 

 viduality of species. Every branch of every 

 nearby tree is atremble with impact after impact 

 of the great weight of bodies. Finally when 

 every available arboreal space is occupied, the 

 walls are filled. The living fringe of crows 

 which tops the walls becomes gradually replaced 

 with vultures. When the last perch is filled, 

 the latecomers are compelled to settle in the open 

 fields, forming densely packed mobs of several 

 hundred birds — standing room only. Always 

 the kites, which have collected in numbers, weave 

 an intricate aerial net-work over the fields and 

 in and out among the trees; they too, with the 

 crows, must abide their time. A disturbance in 

 one of the trees draws attention to an adjutant 

 which has alighted on several of the vultures, 

 when gently but firmly seizing their necks in 

 his great beak, he tumbles them without injury 

 off the branch to make room for himself. He rep- 

 resents another link in the endless chain of bird 

 scavengers in this land, and as the kite has de- 

 serted the more noble proclivities of his aquiline 

 kindred, so the adjutant has abandoned the clean 

 feeding of the storks to join the vulturine pro- 

 fession. With beak and wings he forces his 

 way to the perch, but for man}' minutes the 

 attacks of all his neighbors render his position 

 uncertain, until the attention of the combatants 

 is distracted by the approaching object of their 

 desires. 



Not a bird moves while the dead animal is 

 brought to the center of the waiting host, and 

 only the hundreds upon hundreds of craning 

 necks and unwinking eyes express the pent-up 



