The patches of sugar-cane grow smaller day by day, and in nearly every village the little presses are at work from morn till eve.

From the guava groves issue the rattle of tin pots and the shouts of the boys told off to protect the ripening fruit from the attacks of crows, parrots and other feathered marauders.  Nor do these sounds terminate at night-fall; indeed they become louder after dark, for it is then that the flying-foxes come forth and work sad havoc among fruit of all descriptions.

The fowls of the air are more vivacious than they were in January.  The bulbuls tinkle more blithely, the purple sunbirds sing more lustily; the kutur, kutur, kuturuk of the green barbets is uttered more vociferously; the nuthatches now put their whole soul into their loud, sharp tee-tee-tee-tee, the hoopoes call uk-uk-uk more vigorously.

The coppersmiths (Xantholaema haematocephala) begin to hammer on their anvils—­tonk-tonk-tonk-tonk, softly and spasmodically in the early days of the month, but with greater frequency and intensity as the days pass.  The brain-fever bird (Hierococcyx varius) announces his arrival in the United Provinces by uttering an occasional “brain-fever.”  As the month draws to its close his utterances become more frequent.  But his time is not yet.  He merely gives us in February a foretaste of what is to come.

The tew of the black-headed oriole (Oriolus melanocephalus), which is the only note uttered by the bird in the colder months, is occasionally replaced in February by the summer call of the species—­a liquid, musical peeho.  In the latter half of the month the Indian robin (Thamnobia cambayensis) begins to find his voice.  Although not the peer of his English cousin, he is no mean singer.  At this time of year, however, his notes are harsh.  He is merely “getting into form.”

The feeble, but sweet, song of the crested lark or Chandul is one of the features of February.  The Indian skylark likewise may now be heard singing at Heaven’s gate in places where there are large tracts of uncultivated land.  As in January so in February the joyous “Think of me ...  Never to be” of the grey-headed flycatcher emanates from every tope.

By the middle of the month the pied wagtails and pied bush chats are in full song.  Their melodies, though of small volume, are very sweet.

The large grey shrikes add the clamour of their courtship to the avian chorus.

Large numbers of doves, vultures, eagles, red-headed merlins, martins and munias—­birds whose nests were described in January—­are still busy feeding their young.

The majority of the brown fish-owls (Ketupa ceylonensis) and rock horned-owls (Bubo bengalensis) are sitting; a few of them are feeding young birds.  The dusky horned-owls (B. coromandus) have either finished breeding or are tending nestlings.  In addition to the nests of the above-mentioned owls those of the collared scops owl (Scops bakkamaena) and the mottled wood-owl (Syrnium ocellatum) are likely to be found at this season of the year.  The scops is a small owl with aigrettes or “horns,” the wood-owl is a large bird without aigrettes.