The uncommon incident of the Common Crane

The Bharatpur story never seems to end, does it? To start at the beginning, click here.

Apparently, they are common somewhere, but to me and all of us who saw them, they were definitely uncommon and elusive!!

We were hot and sweaty, having pedalled away on the brick-lined, bone-jarring bund bordering the Ghana canal.  The early morning mist and cool air had long gone, and now we were thankful for the shade of the occasional tree that lined the bund, and against which my faithful purple steed  could be rested!

It was our last day at the sanctuary, and I had already seen my first munia ever, a tree full of yellow footed pigeons, and even several black Redstarts.  While the munias would just not sit still as they hopped from twig to ground to bush to twig, the pigeons just sat and stared!  They looked glum and disappointed like a bunch of Congress workers after their party had lost an election!  The redstarts had no time for us as they zipped and flew through the air, and I felt quite dizzy and tired just trying to follow them!

So, I had had my fill of excitement - or so I thought, and was just staring contentedly into the dry grassland, looking at some cattle moving around in a desultory fashion.  But not Divya. Ever vigilant, thats what she is, and she suddenly barked, "Hey Varun, there's some big bird, look past those cows."  So, while I was going, "where, I cant see, oh thats just a calf", etc etc, Varun the sharp-eyed declared that they were Common Cranes.

Inskipp and Salim Ali were consulted, binoculars trained and a consensus was reached. Common Cranes they were.  See that black streak down the face, or is it a white streak on a black face?  But they are not common, I wailed.  So Varun placates me, "They are common in Europe, you see, they are only winter visitors here."  I was still miffed and truculent, and muttered militantly that we should give them our own name, and its not fair, etc etc.  

Anyway, common cranes they were, and a lovely family of four, mum, dad and two teenagers?  Now they were actually more than 600m away, (atleast I think so), and our binocs were at the limit of their capabilities.  Thankfully we had two large gunners with us, who crept a little ahead and got these photos.

Photo by CarthicGrus grus- thats their official name.

Like the Sarus, these too have an extended and elaborate calling and dancing behaviour.

The International Crane Foundation site says:

Mated pairs of cranes, including Eurasian Cranes, engage in unison calling, which is a complex and extended series of coordinated calls. The birds stand in a specific posture, usually with their heads thrown back and beaks skyward during the display. The male always lifts up his wings over his back during the unison call while the female keeps her wings folded at her sides. In Eurasian Cranes the male initiates the display and utters one call for every three female calls. All cranes engage in dancing, which includes various behaviors such as bowing, jumping, running, stick or grass tossing, and wing flapping. Dancing can occur at any age and is commonly associated with courtship, however, it is generally believed to be a normal part of motor development for cranes and can serve to thwart aggression, relieve tension, and strengthen the pair bond.

This calling is seen in several crane types, and I do wish I had witnessed it!

Photo by SkandanWell, I guess I was lucky just to be in the right place at the right time.  After a while, papa crane kept looking watchfully and warily to his right, and then we saw a group of jackals in the grass.

A few minutes later, and the cranes were off, flying away from us, with the long graceful strokes of their wings.  With a wingspan of some 6-7 ft, it was quite a sight to see the four of them, in a similar rhythm, take off and fly in a "V".  It was another of those silence moments, where I was dumbstruck, though Varun kept muttering deliriously, fantastic, fantastic!

As we moved on, our eyes caught another two families of these cranes take to the air!  Where had they been hiding?  We had not noticed them at all!

And so ended the uncommon incident of the Common Crane.

Bharatpur Photo extravaganza

Here are some links to photo albums of MNS members, who have uploaded their choicest (is there such a word?) pictures of our Bharatpur visit.

Carthic's lovely shots of the geese and ducks

Sripad's gallery with great jackal and owl pictures

Skandan's portfolio from Bharatpur and Ranthambore!

Mr Ramanan sends us his photos via email, and so maybe I should develop a special set for his photos?

Encounters with the Nilgai

My abiding memory of Bharatpur is the misty mornings as we set of on our cycles.  Visibility would be low, but the air would be filled with bird calls - duck, geese and lapwings.

The lanes would vanish into nothingness, and at times we would not be able to see the other members of our group who were just ahead or just behind.  

I think the beauty (and probably the cold!) of the mornings affected all of us, as suddenly we would all lapse into silence and just look, greedily drinking in the sights and sounds of the sanctuary.

The lovely road past Shanti Kutir is not used that much by visitors, and has some nice twists and turns, and along with the chill in the air, and the hanging mist, it suddenly reminded me of a scene from an old Sherlock Holmes novel.  Only somehow there was nothing sinister about the setting!

Nilgai was the most common type of antelope we saw, though there were some chital and sambar as well.   With no large predators in Bharatpur, the Nilgai have no security concerns, and are thriving well.  We would often come across herds of females and young ones, like this.  they are the largest antelopes in Asia, and are common in north India, though for me from the south, it was my first encounter.

 
Their brown coats give them a good camouflage in the dry, tall grass.  The females were my first sighting of the Nilgai, and I wondered why they were called a Nilgai - or blue bull - there was not a hint of blue!  

It wasn't long before I saw my first male Nilgai, though, and what a handsome creature it is!

As big as a horse and called Boselaphus tragocamelus, they look like creatures from the magical forest around Hogwarts!

All I needed was to see one fly, for the image to be complete.  Alas, that was not to be, but the members had close encounters with them one time or another!
Photo by Mr Ramanan

Mr Ramanan was almost knocked down by one male Nilgai as it came crashing through the undergrowth on one side of the track, and quickly lumbered through on the other side!  He did get this beautiful photo though, as it stood, all ears, ready to charge off at the slightest threat.  

The insides of the ears have a distinct marking, and the adult males are usually off on their own.  A single lone female is unusual, as is this photo by Sripad, where the pattern on the hooves are so well seen.

Photo by SripadOn one occasion, as Divya and I followed Sripad and Carthic, (or was it Skandan?), a male Nilgai emerged on to the path from the marsh on the right side behind the pair of riders in front, and ahead of Divya and me.  We stood stock still, and there was a period of eyeball-to-eyeball contact, before it dashed off to the left of the path, only to find its way blocked by undergrowth.  At this point, it panicked and charged back from where it had initially come, and then we heard it sloshing through the marsh, probably grumbling at us all the while!
I dont know whose photo this is, but its not mine!Oh yes, and like rhinos, Nilgai have interesting toilet habits - they have a centralised dropping area, like what you see below!  So if you want to see one of them, I guess all you have to do is hang around one of these spots!  They all have to go at some point dont they?

Now I could not bring myself to finish this post with that picture, So I have this magnificent photo by Carthic.

Photo by CarthicHow could people actually hunt these handsome creatures?  And that too for "sport"?  Okay, they are not endangered, but would any sane person want to hunt them?

Why am I ranting?  Well there are scores of ranches in Texas that advertise Nilgai hunts, as a pastime and sport.  (Do a google - there are scores of them.)  Yeah right, some sport, you have a gun as long as his body and what does he have - just strong legs to run, and run and run.  

I have this nightmare that one day, all this senseless killing and mindless hunting will be reversed upon us, as the animal kingdom gains it karmic revenge....

In India too, they can be hunted.  They are not endangered.  And as they run out of space to graze, they come into farmlands to graze.  In Rajasthan and Gujarat, Nilgai have become a menace to farmers.  But given their resemblance to cows, they are not killed, reportedly, though in these states you could hunt them I believe.

An article on the Nilgai by the Wildlife Institute of India,  writes, 

Although there has been a reduction in the overall range of nilgai, the existing populations seem to be doing fairly well. This is largely because of they are a protected species under the law, and more importantly the protection they acquire from being considered sacred due to their resemblance to domestic cows. Moreover, gradual degradation of dense forests into open scrub and thickets, increasingly bordered by agricultural fields, has offered favourable habitat conditions for the increase of nilgai numbers. Invariably, in such situations, nilgai become serious pests as crop raiders and a major issue of human-wildlife conflict. Possible solutions voiced include a selective culling programme linked to licensed hunting permits. However, throughout the range of the nilgai, most farmers are Hindus, and in Rajasthan and Haryana, many of them are Bishnois, a sect that rigorously protects all animals. Bishnoi farmers prefer to tolerate the raids on their crops rather than permit the slaughter of nilgai. So it is highly unlikely that any scheme to cull or ranch nilgai either for hunting or for local consumption will ever work in India (Kyle 1990). This attitude may however change, when the number of people living off the land increases, when the local people begin to believe nilgai are vermin or a source of meat. Relocations of problematic nilgai, for the time being, seem the safest solution.

Another example of the human-animal conflict, which can only get worse with time.

Is there a humane and sensible solution?

(To start at the beginning of the Bharatpur narration, click here.)

The bird that craved for a ramp

Darter, Snake bird, Pambuttara, Anhinga melanogaster...but to me it will always be the "fashion model" bird!  The waters and trees of Bharatpur are full of them. So "common" were they, that after a couple of days I stopped looking at them. Can you imagine, such a gorgeous bird, and I wouldn't give it a third look.
Photo by Mr Ramanan
A fashion critic could write," She had a lovely long neck, and the black silk saree 
with its beautiful white embroidery stood out under the ramp lights."!!  (The only thing is I dont know if its a she or a he!)

Isn't the photo above amazing?  All the features of the bird - its long snake-like neck, dagger-like bill and the wedge-shaped tail feathers - have been caught so well!

Photo by Sripad They adorned the trees all over, catching the sun to dry their wings. Everybody got great shots of these birds, and as I wondered about their vanity, Mr Chari gently mentioned that they were drying their wings because unlike water off a duck's back, the Darter's feathers do get wet, as they dive into the water in search of fish.

So it is that they spend their days, alternatively diving for fish and drying their wings!
Photo by Carthic

By the end of three days, I was able to do a pretty good imitation of the bird - ask Sripad!
Photo by Mr Ramanan
They are loners, hanging out on the trees alone, which is how we saw them most of the time.  Click on the photo to the left, and see its feet - duck like!

Carthic captured another unusual pose of this bird, as it stared into the water looking for fish.  Its got special neckbones that allows this almost unnatural-looking posture.

Photo by Carthic

Bharatpur
My photo of an Immature!

One mid morning, we came across this Darter, with an abnormally white neck. Old and grey I thought, but it was actually young and immature!!

Its the same bird, folks!

These shots are of the Snake-bird in the water.  It swims with its whole body submerged, looking like the periscope of a submarine!

As it swims, it keeps a keen eye out for the fish, which it chases with speed, shooting its bill out to spear and catch the hapless fish.  When we visited Dungarpur, in December, we saw this piece of hunting action.  The pictures below are from Vedanthangal.

Photos by Sekar
Salim Ali mentions another interesting feint.  If surprised while perched on a tree, it drops down through the branches, almost as if shot, into the water, surfacing at a safe distance.

They are found all over India - where's there's freshwater fish fish there's likely to be a Darter as well. 

Update:

On reading this, Mr Ramanan sent the following great sequence, shot at Vedanthangal. He adds:

As you have narrated about the hunting sequence of the darter, I thought I can share some of it here with you.The darter, unlike cormorants that hunt in flocks, hunts alone using its beak as a weapon to pierce the fish and bring it up. As it has to swallow the head part of the fish first, it tosses and sees that the head goes into mouth first. After feeding, it spreads its feather to dry and also cleans it beak as it contains lot of oily secretions derived while swallowing the fish. These all are 'ACTION SHOTS' for a greedy photographer like me. I have some of them here, which I have photographed at Vedanthangal on various occasions.

Exactly as we saw in Dungarpur!  Thank you Mr Ramanan!

(This is part of a series of posts on a week spent at the Keoladeo sanctuary, in Bharatpur Rajasthan.  To start at the beginning, click here.)

The obliging monitors of Bharatpur

The Bharatpur story starts here.

Every now and again, we came across these large reptiles that obligingly posed for us, as they basked in the winter sun at Bharatpur. I thought they we re fascinating to look at. They look a hundred years old, with all that folded skin and dinosaur-like appearance!

The Indian Monitor, I think its called.  Its one of those ancient survivors - the species dates back several million years, I read somewhere. Around three feet long I would estimate that the one we saw were.  I think thats the average size of this variety.

All the ones we came across were solitary, and thats how adult males seem to hang out.  Not fond of company it would appear!  

After a while, this one got a bit annoyed and irritated with all the clicking and commotion and kind of walked off in a huff, into the bushes!  Its walk is clumsy and deliberate, and a sitting target I would imagine for poachers and hunters.  The eat all kinds of other insects and small creatures like frogs.  I do wonder if they form the food for some other creature.  I think their young are vulnerable to being eaten by larger birds and such, but I cant imagine anything wanting to eat one of these adults - would be terribly leathery dont you think?!

Photo by Sripad

Sripad got a good shot of its head.  See, its smiling for the camera - or is it a grimace?!

More pythons

Mr Ramanan sent along more python pictures, and this pair are so spectacular that I had to share them.  

He revisited the python burrow that I wrote about about, a second time and saw them once more.  This time they were out of the burrow, and quickly slid in on the arrival of intruders. But before that he got these lovely shots.

A darker-skinned maleIf you click on the photo and zoom in, you can even see the heat sensors above the nostrils.

The female

I saw the tallest flying bird!

The Bharatpur narration begins here.

The Sarus Crane - a common resident of north India, a bird I had not seen so far, and one that I will always remember when I think of my first trip to Bharatpur.

For seasoned naturalists and bird watchers, these birds are really no big deal, found as they are in agricultural fields, something like a cattle egret or a pond heron, in the south, I think!  But for me, it was my first time, so indulge me as I take you through my first views.

It was mid-morning, and a bunch of us stood around because we had seen a lot of raptor activity to the left of the road. Two Marsh Harriers circled in the sky, and then we spied two vultures perched in the tall grass, right at the edge of our binocular vision. Just the top of their heads were seen. And among them, was also the reddish head of a king vulture, which suddenly took off and sat on a dead tree, further away. As we trained our binos on it, through the corner of my eye, I saw something large (I mean really large) go gliding through the air, flying rather low, across the road to vanish behind the trees on the right-side of the road/bund that we stood on.
"Wasn't that Sarus cranes?", I exclaimed, but since everyone else was concentrating on the raptors, they seemed to have missed it and looked at me rather dubiously. Anyway, in order to check it out, just-in-case, we went to a gap in the bushes on the other side, amd the pictures you see on the left, are what we saw. A pair, (they are usually in pairs) some distance away, feeding in the marshes!  The pictures on the left are the view we had with the naked eye.  Clicked with my little automatic Sony Cybershot, I even went around a tree further down the road, to see if I would get a better shot. One lives on ambition and hope!
I realise that birdwatching would be no fun absolutely, without a good pair of binos.

The camera is optional really, but without a good pair of binocs, I would not have seen these large birds in their full detail at all, and all the several kinds of ducks would have looked the same.Thanks to my husband, I have a grand pair - 8x42 - that serve me well, and I enjoyed the red head, with the little bald patch on the top of these Sarus cranes.
An inquisitive Nilgai poked her head out from the back, wondering what the fuss was all about.

And now that I have got that account off my chest, and showed you my efforts with the camera, let me also show you some lovely pictures from the cameras of Mr Ramanan and Sripad.  This series of pictures that follow are pieced together, from two or three different instances, and so the light differs.

But, they give you an idea of what I saw through my binocs.  These 5 ft + birds are famous for pairing for life, and participating in a courtship dance.   As I watched through the binocs, the pair were busy digging vigorously in the mud for insects, roots and other such food.


Photo by Mr Ramanan

Suddenly, the larger bird (the male) stalked up rather purposefully towards the female, who spread her wings.  While we along with Mr Ramanan saw this view, 
Photo by Mr Ramanan

Sripad was at another point, and this is what he saw!

Photo by SripadPhoto by Mr Ramanan
Photo by Sripad
Photo by Mr Ramanan

And as our racket increased, off they went, to quieter locations, away from us gawking tourists.  What a life for these stars, never a moment away from the flashbulbs and cameras!!
Photo by Mr Ramanan

So, it was that I did witness the courtship dance of the Sarus cranes, but I think it was the off-season abridged version, not the full show reserved for the breeding season!  I believe, when it is the season, both partners have an extended, elaborate circling and flapping wings option, and lots of bowing and scraping!  Must be some sight.

Below, the National Geographic short video on the Sarus Crane.  Its shot in Nepal, and talks about the crane conservation efforts there.  If you can tolerate the atrocious accent of the voice over (it annoyed me greatly), its quite a nice, short video, and you get to see the chicks, and the nesting habits, as well as some moving shots of these big birds.


I found the article, Working with the Sarus Crane, by K S Gopi Sunder fascinating and educative. Mr Gopi Sunder's efforts to follow the birds and pretend to be a crane make for amusing reading, while at the same time throwing light on their nesting behaviour.

I have one question, and its been nagging me ever since my return. These birds are monogamous and pair for life, so what happens when one of the pair dies?

Update:
This post is included in I and the Bird #93: The Compelling Nature of Birds hosted by Vickie Henderson.

Python!

The Bharatpur "saga" begins here!

Python in the thicket spotted near the temple

Let me say at the outset (or have I said this before?), that I have a morbid, irrational fear of snakes, and I would most definitely prefer to see them on TV than to have a personal encounter with one!

But Bharatpur is famous for the Indian Rock Python and Whitaker has classified them as "harmless" (how could a snake that hugs its prey to death be called harmless, anyway?), and so how could I come away without a peek? 13-year-old Adhi had said on the train that the only reason he was coming to Bharatpur was the see the "hibernating Indian Rock Python"!!

Very reassuringly, Whitaker's book reports that there are no known incidents of a human being eaten by these snakes! Made me feel a lot better, I tell you. These snakes have a "territory" of sorts and favourite burrows, where they sleep, catching the sun in the day, and hunt at night.

So, we set off for the Jatoli checkpost where there were reportedly burrows of these snakes. The path was stony, dusty and uneven, and it seemed safer to wheel the bikes along these narrow paths rather than risk shooting off into the marsh on either side.

Parking our bikes at the checkpost, we went with the forest ranger from there into the scrub on the right. We only saw an empty burrow. No snake. I looked nervously around my ankles and into the surrounding bushes, and hissed to Divya (who seemed least bothered), "what if its there in those other bushes?". I have to tell you that Divya has been on a couple of trips to Agumbe, where they do research on the King Cobra, another of Whitaker's projects, and so has seen those definitely-not-harmless reptiles doing various things (like eating each other up), and this was definitely passe for her!

So, we headed back, and the ranger decided to take us into the left side. I desperately wanted to tell him, bhai sahb, chodiye, koi baath nahin, hum, vaapus chalte hein, but the others were off behind him before I could open my mouth! And so I reluctantly followed, too nervous to lag far behind, and too nervous to go to the head of the line!

And this is what we saw:

A typical burrow. can you see the snakes?What are all those bones lying around?! Somebody pulled my leg - "Oh that's its last night's dinner. Not to worry, it wont eat for a while now!"

Above, the burrow, an adult lay basking under the bushes.A few steps closer to the burrow, and these two "young" ones continue to snooze.Still closer I got, and I could see two heads!Do you see the two heads?

We had obviously got too close. Their heat sensors, close to their nostrils must have been sending loud alarm bells. In a flash, these two slithered further into the burrow, and out of sight! Who said they move slowly, these were gone in the blink of an eye, quite literally. All of us, with the sole exception of Mr Ramanan, jumped two feet away in alarm!

The adult also slithered in!End of show, folks!

As we headed back (me, in relief and triumph!), Mr Shivkumar began a yarn about his erstwhile pet python that he had many decades ago.... he would feed it rabbit that he bought from Moore market...and then gave it away to Harry Miller....for the sake of the python, not out of fear for himself, he emphasized!

I am still undecided as to whether to believe him or not....Anybody can corroborate the story?!