The amazing mimicry of the drongo

It’s a frog! It’s a squirrel! It’s a drongo - ALL - The Hindu



The racket-tailed drongos are great mimics and make good use of the skill



Samira Agnihotri can take you to the exact spot where she had her mind blown more than a decade ago. As a postgraduate student of wildlife biology, she was recording birdsong at BRT Wildlife Sanctuary in Karnataka when a greater racket-tailed drongo, sitting on a tree stump, mimicked the call of a crested serpent eagle, before switching seamlessly to a flameback woodpecker and then a jungle babbler. As the impressed researcher watched the dove-sized copycat, her Soliga field assistant, Madha, commented, “You should do your Ph.D on this bird since it is doing a Ph.D on all the other birds.”



Little did she realise then that was the course her career would take. The drongo’s performance became the focus of not just her Ph.D but her postdoctoral as well.



Agnihotri was bird crazy since she was a three-year-old watching an ashy prinia nest in her family’s backyard in Vadodara. The eggs were blood red, she recalled. Love of the outdoors ran in her family as they vacationed in wild places every year. Her great grandfather wrote a book on Indian wildlife in Hindi. One of the first books she read was Salim Ali’s The Book of Indian Birds . Ali writes that the racket-tailed drongo in flight with its long tail feathers streaming behind it gives “the illusion of the bird being pursued by a pair of large bumble bees.”



Tailored calls



Over the course of 15 years, Agnihotri recorded racket-tailed drongos imitating nearly 40 species of birds, two mammals, two frogs and even an insect. This extensive repertoire doesn’t mean they learn every sound they hear and reproduce it for no reason at all. Instead, they tailor their calls to regale their audience. They impress potential mates with the breadth and complexity of their performance.



However, drongos don’t restrict mimicry to their breeding season alone. They make good use of this skill to fill their stomachs. Racket-tailed drongos join hunting parties of babblers, bulbuls, and warblers. They let the others hop around and flip leaves while they sit on a high perch and keep a sharp eye. When insects stirred up by the hard-working hunters fly out, they snatch them.



The drongos don’t hobnob only with other birds. Some mimic bonnet macaques which Agnihotri thinks startles the primates to move and rouse up insects. The Soliga declare the dodda karali , as they call the racket-tailed drongo, the laziest birds they have seen.



Instead of physical labour, the racket-tailed drongos invest in vocal artistry. They mimic the calls of species with whom they hang out. If they want to join a flock of jungle babblers, they imitate those grating cries. When consorting with woodpeckers, they twitter like them.



As sentinels, the drongos impersonate the agitated calls of other species, as if alerting them of an approaching predator in their language spreads the message better. This rallies the entire mob to drive the menace away or flee from it. They amplify others’ warnings too. When giant squirrels warn of a raptor flying over the canopy, the racket-tailed drongos copy the mammals’ toy gun-like rattle. Why mimic squirrels instead of sounding their own alarm calls remains an unsolved mystery, says Agnihotri.



Recognising this role, the Soliga also call the species, kolu kaara (stick-bearer) or ‘policeman of the birds’. They liken them to an elder who maintains peace and order within the community. For performing this duty, the Soliga say, the other birds offer a feather each to the drongo.



Upper hand



Drongos also scare the daylights out of small predators, such as crows, by imitating eagles. Matching calls to the correct species is a remarkable feat, but they also seem to know who has the upper hand over them.



Agnihotri’s field assistants have climbed up trees with drongo nests to ring the legs of nestlings with coloured bands. Once the chicks become adults, they will be easier to recognise as individuals. Some drongo parents were baffled by the tree climbers. Agnihotri watched as the anxious birds sought to chase the Soliga as they would a predator. They mimicked the calls of scimitar babblers. When that didn’t scare the humans, they chose the cries of large animals such as bonnet macaques and giant squirrels. That failed too, and they resorted to eagle shrieks. “They tried everything,” Agnihotri says. “But they didn’t know what would scare the men.”



Despite their ability to fool others, the drongos are not above petty thievery. When other birds have a morsel that one covets, it swoops at them while screaming aggressively. It may throw in some imitations too. The scared bird drops its prey which the drongo grabs. The skill that delivers supper here is not mimicry but straightforward bullying. But Agnihotri is as impressed by the drongo’s intelligence which makes the phrase ‘bird brain’ sound like a compliment.



Agnihotri recorded racket-tailed drongos imitating nearly 40 species of birds, two mammals, two frogs and even an insect

Singing bushlark spotted in Coimbatore

Singing bushlark spotted in Coimbatore - TAMIL NADU - The Hindu





In what appears to be a rare sighting, Coimbatore-based bird watcher Balaji P.B. spotted and photographed a Singing bushlark (Mirafra cantillans) in Coimbatore recently.



First record



Mr. Balaji, a member of Coimbatore Nature Society (CNS) and Salim Ali Naturalists Forum, claimed that his sighting of the bird in an open field at Kalangal near Sulur on March 19 was the first record of the species in Tamil Nadu.



Mr. Balaji, who holds a certificate in ornithology from Bombay Natural History Society, said that the rare sighting of the bird in Coimbatore was verified using ebird, an online platform for birdwatchers to report sightings.



“The identity of the bird has been confirmed with experts. Singing bushlark will be Coimbatore’s 390th bird, based on second edition of the check-list of the Birds of Coimbatore released by Coimbatore Nature Society on July 21, 2018,” he said.



A species of lark found in Africa, the Middle East, and South Asia, Singing bushlark is largely seen in open dry shrub, fallow cultivation and grassland.



The bird feeds on insects, ants, seeds of grasses and weeds among others.



Song-flight



In his book ‘Book of Indian Birds’, Salim Ali, the birdman of India, has noted that the song-flight of the male during breeding season is a “remarkable performance”. According to him, it is very difficult to distinguish the bird from other similar larks.



“The bird rises about 30 m up in the air - a lower ceiling than the skylark’s - and hovers on stiffly quivering wings in the style of the skylark, drifting hither and tither in the breeze, and back and forth over an extensive area for considerable periods,” notes Ali about the bird. The spirited and sustained rendering of the flight song of Singing bushlark incorporates imitations of the calls of most of the birds which share its habitat.



With a breeding season ranging from March to September, the bird makes a shallow grass cup lined with fine grass as its nest. It is placed on the ground, well concealed in a clump of grass. The bird usually lays two to four eggs.



Mr. Balaji, one of the editors of ‘Birds of Coimbatore’ brought out by CII-Yi and CNS in 2015, is credited with several first sightings in Coimbatore like that of White stork, Black stork, Rufous-tailed Lark and Indian Spotted eagle.

those names that we only read about...

Martin Woodcock obituary

Stephen MossMon 11 Mar 2019 16.05 GMT

Artist admired for the illustrations that grace the pages of the monumental The Birds of Africa, first published in the early 1980s

Amid the economic uncertainty of the mid 1970s not many people gave up a job in the City of London. But in 1974, Martin Woodcock did just that, swapping life as a stockbroker to become a freelance bird artist.

He never looked back. Martin, who has died aged 84, spent the rest of his distinguished career travelling through Asia and Africa to observe, draw and paint some of the world’s most elusive birds. His masterwork, which kept him busy for almost three decades, was the monumental, multivolume The Birds of Africa, for which he painted more than 200 colour plates.

Born in Sidcup, Kent, Martin was educated in Sussex at Ashdown House prep school, Forest Row, and Christ’s Hospital, Horsham. His father, Percy, who died when Martin was six months old, was a stockbroker; his mother, Norah (nee Blake), worked as a secretary at the BBC. His only sister, Nan, was 12 years older than him, so as a child he was often left to his own devices.

A history teacher, Bert Bury, encouraged his interest in birds, which had been sparked by an encounter with a flock of goldfinches at the age of eight. Exploring Ashdown Forest by bicycle, with the Battle of Britain raging overhead, Martin began keeping an illustrated diary of the birds he saw, a habit he continued for the rest of his life.

He taught himself to draw at a young age, and was influenced by the early 20th-century painters Archibald Thorburn and George Edward Lodge. But in those days, there were virtually no opportunities for professional bird artists; so after national service in the Royal Artillery (1954-56), Martin followed his late father into stockbroking, staying in the profession for the next 18 years.

The impetus to switch careers came when he was asked to illustrate the forthcoming Field Guide to the Birds of South-East Asia, written by the ornithologists Ben King and Edward C Dickinson, which was published by Collins in 1975. Other commissions soon followed, but it was The Birds of Africa that gave him his big break, and some level of security in a precarious profession. He illustrated all seven volumes published between 1982 and 2004 (an eighth book appeared in 2013).

 Spoonbills on Cley marshes by Martin Woodcock

Spoonbills on Cley marshes by Martin Woodcock

Martin had first visited Africa in 1961, staying with Nan at her home in Kampala, Uganda. In his delightfully informal Safari Sketchbook (2010), he recalled that the very first bird he drew was a kingfisher, which he found dead on the tarmac after landing at Entebbe, “before I had taken 10 steps on [Africa’s] red earth”.

 Watcher’s Cottage by Martin Woodcock. It is used by the warden of Cley marshes, Norfolk, and owned by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust.

Watcher’s Cottage by Martin Woodcock. It is used by the warden of Cley marshes, Norfolk, and owned by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust. Illustration: Martin Woodcock

For much of the 1980s and 90s, Martin went on research expeditions throughout the continent, making field notes and sketches of some of the world’s rarest birds, many of which had never been illustrated before. By the time the project finished, he had completed over 5,000 separate illustrations of more than 2,000 different species.

In 1994, Martin became the first chair (and later president) of the African Bird Club. His experience, network of contacts and the high regard in which he was held by the African birding community soon helped to establish the organisation at the forefront of international conservation efforts.

Following encouragement from friends, Martin published in 2013 a slim volume of poetry, Drawing Together, which revealed an acute eye for observation and sensitivity to language. In one poem, A Tale of Two Wars, he recalled his crucial early encounter with the goldfinches, “like lively notes hung on a silver stave, traced out in scarlet, white and gold”.

In 1963, he had married Heidi Schön, with whom he had three children, Marcus, Nicola and Kirsten. They divorced in 1971. A year later, Martin met Barbara Skailes (nee Paine), who had two children, Duncan and Geraldine. They married in 1977 and brought up their children together.

After moving to north Norfolk in 2000, Martin continued to draw and paint, while the energetic Barbara carried on her picture-framing business.

Even when diagnosed with cancer late last year, he continued to welcome visits from friends. He would regale them with entertaining stories, reflective thoughts about the decline of so many of his beloved birds, and new poems. The last time I saw him, he spoke about that life-changing moment when he gave up his career to become, as he put it, a penniless bird artist – a decision about which he had absolutely no regrets.

He is survived by Barbara, his three children, two stepchildren and 14 grandchildren.

• Martin Wedgwood Woodcock, bird illustrator and artist, born 14 January 1935; died 24 February 2019

At this critical time…

… we can’t turn away from climate change. For The Guardian, reporting on the environment is a priority. We give climate, nature and pollution stories the prominence they deserve, stories which often go unreported by others in the mainstream media. At this critical time for our species and our planet, we are determined to inform readers about threats, consequences and solutions based on scientific facts, not political prejudice or business interests. But we need your support to grow our coverage, to travel to the remote frontlines of change and to cover vital conferences that affect us all.

More people are reading and supporting our independent, investigative reporting than ever before. And unlike many news organisations, we have chosen an approach that allows us to keep our journalism accessible to all, regardless of where they live or what they can afford.

The Guardian is editorially independent, meaning we set our own agenda. Our journalism is free from commercial bias and not influenced by billionaire owners, politicians or shareholders. No one edits our editor. No one steers our opinion. This is important as it enables us to give a voice to those less heard, challenge the powerful and hold them to account. It’s what makes us different to so many others in the media, at a time when factual, honest reporting is critical.

Every contribution we receive from readers like you, big or small, goes directly into funding our journalism. This support enables us to keep working as we do – but we must maintain and build on it for every year to come. Support The Guardian from as little as $1 – and it only takes a minute. Thank you.

Meet the littles

Meet the littles - Chennai - The Hindu
Prince Frederick




Pint-sized birds make the most of a boggy patch that is fast drying up

A thing of beauty.  Little ringed plover (left); on a slushy patch at Akkarai in
SholinganallurPrince Frederick  

When a birdwatcher’s attention has to be divided among a wide variety of birds, the little stint often receives very little of it. In the Perumbakkam Wetland, I have seen this pint-sized winter visitor getting lost in the crowd. For a few days now, I have been paying this bird almost-undivided attention, thanks to a change of scene. I have once again inked Akkarai into my morning-birdwatching peregrinations. Sometime ago, I stopped having a look-in at a huge boggy patch of earth at Akkarai in Sholinganallur, as the water level there had plummeted significantly and the avian presence on the ground was getting thinner. However, nudged by some sort of a gut feeling, I visited the space a few days ago. Predictably enough, the ground was free of standing water, except for two or three patches.

These patches, located close to a kucha road, had drawn the little stints which probably had earlier been looking for food in the further reaches of this boggy parcel of land, punctuated here and there with grasses.

A day or two from the time of this article seeing the light, these odd patches will dry up. And, on these few remaining days, you can count on me to be in attendance there. The little stints are quick-footed, and in busy flocks, they can rival the nervous energy of ants.

Besides the little stints, an occasional little ringed plover or a lone but cheerful wagtail would show up on these patches. In the avian world, the little ringed plover has one of the most striking colour patterns involving the forehead, crown, eye, nape and throat.

If the avians ever get as self-absorbed as we humans are, and start organising beauty pageants, the little ringed plover can enter a whole range of categories, from beautiful eye ring and eye mask to striking collar. I get all Keatsian when a little ringed plover stays close enough for me to keep staring at its yellow eye ring: It is most definitely a thing of beauty.