places each separate bank will often be found to be the home
of several pairs, each however, as a rule, keeping to its own
particular portion of the bank and river frontage. In almost
every river, however, large and small, they are to be met with
dotted in pairs every half mile or so along its course. It is
rare to see them in the plains, where the river banks and bed
are rocky, still rarer to find them in small ponds or tanks ; but
most large lakes are the resort of a few pairs throughout the
winter, and in March and April, when gathering into flocks,
preparatory to their departure, large flocks are far more commonly
seen on the more extensive broads and lakes than on
any river.
On such extensive pieces of water, I have often seen parties
numbering many hundreds of birds, but I cannot recollect ever
noticing more than thirty or forty Brahminies congregated in any
one spot on a river.
No object is more familiar in river scenery in India than a
pair of these Ducks, standing or squatting, side by side, on the
banks, or on some chur ; no sounds are more perpetually heard
as one floats lazily down with the stream, than their loud warning
notes, repeated more earnestly as one draws nearer and nearer,
and followed by the sharp patter of their wings as they rise on
the approach of the boat. Very wary they are, and yet not at
all afraid of men so long as these keep just out of gun-shot.
At Allahabad, at the sacred junction of the Jumna and Ganges,
I noticed during a great fair, which is held on the spit of sand,
at whose apex the rivers meet, two pair of these Ducks, placidly
performing their own ablutions just opposite where some
200,000 people, densely packed, were bathing. The hum, the
roar, I should say, of the mighty multitude sounded a mile off,
like the surge of wind and waves in stormy weather on a rockbound
coast—scores of boats conveying the richer pilgrims
to a shallow of special sanctity, a hundred yards below the
point, were ceaselessly plying backwards and forwards, crowded
and crammed with human beings,—hundreds of gaudy flags
were fluttering from the topmost points of gigantic bamboos
planted near the water's edge, yet, totally regardless of
sounds and sights that might have startled the boldest bird,
the old Brahminies dawdled about the opposing bank of the
Ganges, distant barely 300 yards here from the clamorous
struggling rainbow-coloured mass, as though these vagaries were
no concern of theirs and signified no more than a convocation
of ants.
And it is not that any sanctity here guards them ;—you may
see them constantly exposed for sale in the market,—nor that they
are unmolested ; for Allahabad is one head quarters of
E. I- Railway, and numbers of Europeans are constantly shooting
about this very place in boats and favouring the Brahminies, as
well as all other feathered things, with " sky" shots.
It seems to be that thoroughly confident in their own ceaseless
watchfulness, and quite aware of the range of shot-guns,
they are too wise to take the trouble of moving until this
becomes really needed.
Everywhere the same thing is to be noticed, and there is
hardly a bridge of boats or much-frequented ferry on any of our
larger rivers, close to which a pair, at least, of these handsome
wide-awake birds may not be found during the cold season. Other
Ducks and Geese mostly shun the busy haunts of men, but these
seem only to search for spots that suit them (nice sandy and not
muddy, or rocky banks are what they like), and then "men may
come and men may go," but there they are as persistent as their
beloved river.
A philosophical contempt for everything and every one well
outside gun range, and a rooted determination to allow no
one to approach within this, equally characterize these birds ;
and though they mostly keep by and to themselves, yet where
other Water Fowl arc numerous, they arc necessarily near some
of these, and in such cases become veritable betes noirs to
sportsmen.
Not only do they carefully provide for their own safety, but
they seem positively to take a malicious pleasure in spoiling
all sport. You are working down on a lump of Fowl—a few
minutes more and you will be within range. Suddenly the loud
call of the Brahminy sounds, and rising out of a hollow in the
sand where they have been squatting, you see a pair waddling
to the water's edge. Again and again the pair call and answer,
(side by side, as they are, one would think that save out of sheer
spite they need not shout at each other thus,) then with a rapid
chuckle off they go, their wings clattering as they rise like a train
on an iron culvert, and with them of course go all the Fowl. Further
on are a lot of Geese ; you work towards them—vain hope. The
ruddy wideawakes have alighted near these now, and duly put
them up before you are within a hundred yards, and sometimes
a pair will thus persecute you for a couple of miles, before
they finally turn up stream to return to their proper beat. As
Mr. Reid truly remarks :—
". Sportsmen, as a rule, detest the Brahminy Duck. It not
only keeps a sharp look-out on its own account, but will fly
along the jhfl side before the gunner, uttering its warning
note and putting every bird on the qui vive. In fact, it is almost
impossible to get up to a flock of Ducks if there is a Brahminy
amongst them, or, I may add, any where near them."
Still it is possible to come to an understanding even with
them. Keep a small bore express rifle ; they offer superb shots,
and knock over as many as you can at 150 yards and upwards.
After being at this game a few days, and killing five or
six, not a Brahminy in the neighbourhood will let you approach
within a quarter of a mile, and thenceforth they give you so