10 T H E G R E A T I N D I A N B U S T A R D.
have closely watched the whole process through binoculars.
First the male begins to strut about, holding his head up as
high as if he wanted to lift himself off his legs ; then, after a few
turns, he puffs out the upper part of the throat just under the jaws,
then draws it in again, then puffs it again, and so on two, three,
or four times, and then, suddenly out goes the whole throat
down to the breast, and that part of it next the latter swells
more and more ; his tail, already cocked, begins to turn
right back, over the back, and the lower throat bag gets bigger
and bigger, and longer and longer, till it looks to be within six
inches of the ground. All the feathers of the throat stand out,
and, looked at in front, he seems to have a huge bag covered
with feathers hanging down between his legs, which wabbles
about as he struts here and there, with wings partly unclosed,
and occasional sharp snappings of his bill. From time to time
he utters a sort of deep moan, and stands quite still, and then
off he struts again close up to the female, and then away from
her. On both occasions that I witnessed these antics, the
excitement seemed gradually to relax, and no connubialities
resulted. Whether this is usually a prelude to such, or a
mere nautch for the edification of the female, like the Peacock's
grand display, I cannot tell, but I am inclined to believe the latter.
In parts of the Punjab, and doubtless elsewhere, the native
fowlers are very expert in noosing them. A small party is
descried in the middle of a plain. The fowler, with a blanket
folded over head and shoulders, native fashion (or at times
driving a trained bullock before him), and a large supply of
pegs and gut nooses at his girdle, circles, slowly approaching
nearer and nearer, round the flock. By little indications,
inappreciable to us, he discovers the direction in which,
if slightly and cautiously pressed, the Bustards will walk.
Across this line of march, sauntering slowly backwards
and forwards, and pretending to cut and collect grass the
while, the fowler pegs down rows of nooses. Then, taking a
wider circuit, he begins to approach the flock from the opposite
side, not walking at them, but sideways, at right angles to the
line he wishes them to take, passing nearer and nearer at each
lap, never in the least alarming them, but quietly edging and
pressing them towards the nooses. Sometimes he lets them
walk right on to the nooses ; generally, when close to them, he
drops his blanket, throws up his arms, and rushes at them. They
always in these cases run a few paces before they rise, and
though occasionally all escape, generally one, often two, and
sometimes three or four, are caught by one or other leg. The
chief skill consists in walking them exactly across the lines of
nooses, which are never, according to my experience, more than
fifty yards long, and usually much less.
If they are feeding anywhere near a small patch of cover,
into which you can make your way without their seeing or
T H E G R E A T I N D I A N B U S T A R D. I I
smelling you (and though other sportsmen tell me that they
have not noticed this, I have found their scent just as keen as
an antelope's), you can easily get them driven over you, the only
difficulty being that they fly so low that, if you are in high
thick crops, they may pass within twenty yards or less without
your catching a glimpse of them, though you hear the heavy thuds
of their wings so loudly that you fancy they are just upon you.
At times, in parts of the country where these are in common
use by the whole population, you may shoot them with S. G.
shot off a camel, or again from a cart, as some people shoot
antelope ; but the only real sport is stalking them, and the
modern '36 bore express rifle is just the thing for this.
They are very coarse feeders, and in the Punjab I have found
large lizards, desert rats, and all kinds of reptiles in their
stomachs, besides quantities of the young green shoots of the
lemon grass, of which they seem very fond.
The flight is very heavy, though very powerful; at a little distance
they may be for a moment mistaken, when on the wing,
for Vultures.
Several interesting notes on this species have been sent me,
some of which I reproduce, as collectively they give a better
general conception of the bird and its habits than could be
gathered from any single account.
" The Great Indian Bustard," writes Mr. G. Sanderson,
" occurs somewhat plentifully throughout Mysore, in suitable
localities, viz., open plains in the vicinity of scrub jungles. I
have seen five feeding together, three commonly. I believe that
the Bustard in Mysore migrates. It is exceedingly wary. Its
note, usually uttered before daylight, is a booming cry, not
unlike a distant shout ; hence it is denominated in Canarese the
'bird that calls like a man' (Arl-Koogina-Hukki.)
" The Bustard feeds in stubble fields and open plains till
about 10 A . M . , as also in the afternoon. During the heat of the
day, it retires to low bush jungle. I have frequently shot
Bustard by having markers posted upon commanding
eminences within a circuit of three or four miles round their
feeding grounds. The particular habits of the birds are
generally well known locally, and when one has been marked
down after its return from its morning feed, it may generally be
walked up, within a few hundred yards of the place where it
alighted. In the scrub jungle, they frequently lie very
close, and must be carefully looked for. Before I was aware
of this peculiarity, I failed to find several birds. On one
occasion, a Bustard uttered its peculiar cry about twenty yards
behind me. It had walked out of a small bush which I had
passed within five yards, and uttered its note when standing
on the ground."
"This species" (says Mr. G. Vidal) " is found very sparingly
in the eastern districts of the Poona and Satara Zillas. It