The fields and open plains swarm with larks, pipits, finch-larks, lapwings, plovers, quail, buntings, mynas, crows, harriers, buzzards, kestrels, and a score of other birds.
But it is at the jhils that bird life seems most abundant. On some tanks as many as sixty different kinds of winged things may be counted. There are the birds that swim in the deep water—the ducks, teal, dabchicks, cormorants and snake-birds; the birds that run about on the floating leaves of water-lilies and other aquatic plants—the jacanas, water-pheasants and wagtails; the birds that wade in the shallow water and feed on frogs or creatures that lurk hidden in the mud—the herons, paddy-birds, storks, cranes, pelicans, whimbrels, curlews, ibises and spoonbills; the birds that live among sedges and reeds—the snipe, reed-warblers, purple coots and water-rails. Then there are the birds that fly overhead—the great kite-like ospreys that frequently check their flight to drop into the water with a big splash, in order to secure a fish; the kingfishers that dive so neatly as barely to disturb the smooth surface of the lake when they enter and leave it; the graceful terns that pick their food off the face of the jhil; the swifts and swallows that feed on the insects which always hover over still water.
Go where we will, be it to the sun-steeped garden, the shady mango grove, the dusty road, the grassy plain, the fallow field, or among the growing crops, there do we find bird life in abundance and food in plenty to support it.
This is not the breeding season, therefore the bird choir is not at its best, nevertheless the feathered folk everywhere proclaim the pleasure of existence by making a joyful noise. From the crowded jhil emanate the sweet twittering of the wagtails, the clanging call of the geese, the sibilant note of the whistling teal, the curious a-onk of the brahminy ducks, the mewing of the jacanas and the quacking of many kinds of ducks. Everywhere in the fields and the groves are heard the cawing of the crows, the wailing of the kites, the cooing of the doves, the twittering of the sparrows, the crooning of the white-eyes, the fluting of the wood-shrikes, the tinkling of the bulbuls, the chattering of the mynas, the screaming of the green parrots, the golden-backed woodpeckers and the white-breasted kingfishers, the mingled harmony and discord of the tree-pies, the sharp monosyllabic notes of the various warblers, the melody of the sunbirds and the flycatchers. The green barbets also call spasmodically throughout the month, chiefly in the early morning and the late afternoon, but the only note uttered by the coppersmith is a soft wow. The hoopoe emits occasionally a spasmodic uk-uk-uk.
The migrating birds continue to pour into India during the earlier part of November. The geese are the last to arrive, they begin to come before the close of October, and, from the second week of November onwards, V-shaped flocks of these fine birds may be seen or heard overhead at any hour of the day or night.