The Bustard's last stand

We huddled in our open jeep in the December morning cold as the windchill lowered the temperature to single digits, straining our eyes for its characteristic long white neck. Finally as the bird peeped out over the bushes and then cautiously strode into the open, time literally stood still. A sighting of one male and four female Great Indian Bustards sent excited waves through our group: after all we had just sighted about 5% of the world's population of these birds! Much like a tiger sighting in an Indian forest, except that it's far easier to see a tiger than a bustard nowadays. 

We were in Rajasthan on a birding trip to Desert National Park (DNP) and other areas northwest of Jaisalmer with Adesh Shivkar of Nature India. Our targets were the numerous "desert specialists" that make the Thar Desert and dry scrub habitat their home. Desert National Park, south of Jaisalmer is the "last stand" of the Great Indian Bustard (GIB), and host to 40 odd of the estimated remaining population of less than 100 birds. It is the only place in India where a viable breeding population makes a sighting reasonably likely. DNP has much more than just the GIB. Raptors were everywhere, in the air, on the ground and in whatever tree cover was available. Vultures abounded, attesting to the lack of use in animal husbandry of diclofenac and similar compounds here: we saw Egyptian, Cinereous and Eurasian Griffon Vultures in numbers. The huge and somewhat sluggish Steppe Eagle is a part time scavenger and often kept the vultures company at kills. The stunted trees were dotted with Long-legged Buzzards and Common Kestrels. A Pallid Harrier glided a few feet above the ground as it surveyed its prey. Wheatears (Isabelline, Variable, Desert and Red-tailed or Persian) were on every perch and Larks (Greater Short-toed, Bimaculated, Crested and Desert) were ubiquitous on the ground. The Delicate (Graceful) Prinia and the globally threatened Stolickza's (White-browed) Bushchat, endemic to this area, were personal lifers. 

The Thar desert is one large expanse of tawny brown: to survive here, all flora and fauna are similarly camouflaged and you need sharp eyes and an expert guide like Uruz Khan to help you identify birds here. We drove northwest of Jaisalmer to Netsi Lake near Ramgad, a small oasis in the desert where apart from the usual ducks and waders, we were witness to scores of Chestnut-bellied Sandgrouses as they made a simultaneous pit stop for their morning drink. A Pallid Harrier and a Marsh Harrier policed the waterbody. We were after the elusive Water Pipits which didn't show up that day: we feasted our eyes instead on a pair of Laggar Falcons were themselves too busy feasting on a bird kill to object to the gaggle of photographers coming really close. You need to offroad to see the flatland specialists, truly amazingly adapted to the flat terrain, but simultaneously severely affected by habitat loss. A Greater Hoopoe Lark pair, huge and more like a hoopoe with a curved beak, require acres of absolutely flat land: we were fortunate to see a pair after much searching. The beautiful Cream-colored Courser was seen in greater numbers. 

 A drive to Khabha Fort on a road adjoining DNP on the last day threw up several rarities. A rare Saker Falcon on a roadside tree was photographed up close. A pair of Common (Punjab) Ravens among a group of crows at a kill brought smiles to our faces. Trumpeter Finches had the near perfect camouflage for the stony ground they prefer. 

 The majestic GIB once roamed all over the grasslands of the Indian subcontinent, but their numbers have dwindled dramatically. How did we do such a poor job of protecting our most charismatic large bird? Habitat loss (their grasslands have been converted to agricultural lands or developed into property) and bird hits by electricity and telephone lines are the most important reasons. It doesn't help that the bird reproduces slowly as it doesn't lay more than one egg at a time (a recent report documented two eggs for the first time). The bird also does not breed in captivity: a recently initiated captive breeding program hopes to address the latter problem. Forest officials in DNP have fenced off selected areas of the park and the GIB is rarely seen outside these fenced areas, attesting to the importance of inviolable spaces for these birds to breed and survive. Fencing seems essential to keep the grasslands free of cattle and goats which roam much of the area outside. Indeed crops are sown before the monsoon right inside the National Park and irate farmers expressed displeasure that we were in their tilled land, all well within the National Park core area! The forest department needs to do a much better job of fencing, protecting and extending the available space in and around this last viable habitat of this critically endangered bird. On a bigger scale, there is no effort to identify and protect other as yet untouched open grasslands in West Rajasthan where the GIB might yet be reintroduced. It seems our collective national will (and wildlife budget) is reserved for bringing back Namibian replacements for the now extinct Indian subspecies of cheetah! Sadly extinction looms for the bustard, it seems. 

 So do whatever you can for GIB conservation, and hurry up to see the bustard make its last stand before the clock runs out!

Black-crowned Sparrow Lark

Brown Rock Chat

Common Kestrel

Desert Courser

Egyptian Vultures

Graceful (Delicate) Prinia

Great Indian Bustard

Greater Hoopoe Lark

Laggar Falcon pair

Long-legged Buzzard

Punjab Raven with house crows

Saker Falcon

Short-toed Snake Eagle

Steppe Eagle

Stolickza's (White-browed Bushchat)

Trumpeter Finch

Birding in the Nilgiris: Sholakilis and Chilappans

 

You live in Chennai and you've never birded in the Nilgiris? Somewhat shame-facedly I admitted yes (some casual birding in Kodaikanal in the Palni Hills doesn't count) and promptly decided to remedy matters with a trip to Kothagiri, Coonoor and Ooty (all in Nilgiris District, Tamilnadu) in November, a time of the year ideal for seeing both migrants and endemics. 

We drove up from Coimbatore to Kodanad, where you can get a panoramic view of the plains: we were more preoccupied with viewing a pair of Black Eagles wheeling away adjacent to the mountain slope, their broad wings and long "fingers" a dead give away. The head of the Chestnut-headed Bee-eater glinted in the afternoon sun, and we spent a while admiring a Lesser Yellownape Woodpecker. A long range glimpse of some Nilgiri Laughingthrushes promised much for the next day. By the way, the former Black-chinned Laughingthrush that you see above the Palghat gap has been split into the common Nilgiri seen here and the Banasura Laughingthrush seen further north. Perhaps they may be named Chilappan in the future: so keep up with your bird nomenclature!

We woke up in Coonoor to the sight of sunlight illuminating the turquoise patch on the throat of a male Vernal Hanging Parrot and headed to Sims Park, a veritable treasure trove of birds. A mixed hunting party of Indian White-eyes, Cinereous Tits, Yellow-cheeked Tits, Orange Minivets and Gray-headed Canary Flycatchers made for rapid fire birding. A Blue-capped Rock Thrush showed off its dorsal white spots and two long distance migrants, the Indian Blue Robin and the Brown-breasted Flycatcher marked their arrival. We spent a while searching for the Black-and-Orange Flycatcher and were finally rewarded by photos of this eye catching endemic. A pair of Indian Scimitar-babblers announced their arrival with their typical call. A detailed photo op with a group of Rufous Babblers rounded off the day.

We headed off early next morning to Doddabetta, which at 2600 m is the second highest point in South India. We were in single minded pursuit of three endemics: the first, the Nilgiri Laughingthrush was seen and gleefully photographed at a rubbish dump just behind the row of roadside shops! Amazing how garbage attracts the prettiest of birds. Our guide Satheesh Kumaran Nair somehow located our second target, the Nilgiri Sholakili (formerly Nilgiri Blue Robin) sitting quietly a short distance from the track, behind the chaos of hawkers and tourists. The icing on the cake was a flock of Nilgiri Wood-pigeons seen loitering on the ground behind the roadside shops! These regal birds generally don't call and are not easy to spot. A second sighting  of the Black-and-orange Flycatcher topped off a productive morning. None among us complained about the swirling mist which masked the magnificent panoramas you can get from the top on a clear day.

A trek through the lush Cairn Hill Forest in search of the elusive Kashmir Flycatcher yielded only a Crested Goshawk, but the well maintained and informative interpretation center there was well worth visiting. We rounded off the day with a pleasant stroll through Ooty's Botanical Gardens: plenty of commoners but none of the "royals" we were after . We came down to Kothagiri and started off the day with a Streak-throated Woodpecker opportunistically getting its morning drink from a pipe right in the town center. Five Nilgiri Flycatchers in one area made quite a spectacle, as did a flock of noisy Southern Hill Mynas on a tree at eye level. We did miss out on a few much desired species such as the Nilgiri Thrush, the Painted Bush Quail and the Nilgiri Thrush. Can't really complain, especially as the weather gods were mercifully cooperative. 

Nilgiri birding is defined as: whatever moves slowly enough to be seen is a bulbul, whatever moves too fast to follow is a warbler or a white-eye and all other birds are the ones we want to see but don't get to, quipped my cousin tongue-in-cheek, drawing a glare from our group leader Adesh Shivkar of Nature India!

Not at all true, as you can see!

Asian Brown Flycatcher

Black-and-orange Flycatcher

Blue-capped Rock Thrush

Bonelli's Eagle

Brown-breasted Flycatcher

Grey Junglefowl

Indian Blackbird

Nilgiri Laughingthrush

Nilgiri Sholakili

Nilgiri Wood-Pigeon

Pied Bushchat female

Pied Bushchat male

Scaly-bellied Woodpecker

Scaly-breasted Munia

Southern Hill Myna

White-spotted Fantail