Pet Birds of Bengal/The Khanjan (Wagtail)

The term Khanjan loosely denotes Wagtails, though it has a restricted application to a particular Indian species. The Khanjan has always been a favourite bird with the old Sanskrit authors, who never lost an opportunity to portray it in their descriptions of natural scenery. In describing the eyes of their heroines, they always found in this bird a pet simile. "Khanjan-eyed" connoted in their phraseology one of the best excellences of the human eyes; but it is a moot point whether the sparkling gaiety of the eyes suggested their resemblance with the restlessness of the bird or whether the anatomical likeness between the shape of those eyes and the body-contour of the bird was the subject of comparison. Having a wide distribution, the Wagtails are so very familiar to the people of ​this country that the latter feel prejudiced against caging them, and whenever any such bird is put up in the market, it is not unusual to find a benevolent person losing no time in buying it up or, if there be more, the whole lot, simply for liberating them. Consequently a Wagtail is not a common cage-bird in any part of India. The Large Pied Wagtail, however, is sometimes caged, and is considered a respectable bird in Behar and some parts of the U. P., where it is specially known as 'the Khanjan'. This bird is much larger for a Wagtail and closely resembles the Dhayal as regards the arrangement of the black and the white colours upon its body. It has a superbly beautiful canary-like song which, if widely known, would earn for it a popularity that would probably be in an inverse ratio to the undeserved neglect in which it has hitherto been held. In Bengal, few people can make its acquaintance even in nature, chiefly on ​account of its restricted range which, if not altogether outside Bengal, merely touches the western fringe of its present political boundaries. As Wagtails are never popular cage-birds, they are seldom caught and are hardly available for exportation. Consequently, the qualities of Motacilla maderaspatensis are a sealed book to the European aviculturist, who has thus been deprived of the acquaintance of a really efficient singing bird. For, as a chorister, the Khanjan in question is as much superior to its kindred as the canary to the sparrow. Its notes possess a sweetness and cadence like those of the Dhayal, though without the latter's variety. An English gentleman says, "A more cheerful and engaging little pet it would be difficult to imagine, to say nothing of its singing powers which, in my opinion, excelled those of a canary." It is such a charming bird that it can not fail to recommend itself to the most fastidious of avicultur​ists. It has the requisite qualities of the cage-birds of a high order, and without it, no book on cage-birds would be complete.

In the Fauna of British India, Oates recognises Motacilla maderaspatensis as a species. But Mr. Stuart Baker regards it as a sub-species and calls it Motacilla alba maderaspatensis. According to him, this Wagtail belongs to the alba group. Mr. Claud B. Ticehurst justly criticises this grouping in the Journal of the Bombay Natural History Society (Vol. xxviii, p.1090)—"Mr. Stuart Baker puts this wagtail as a race of alba: with this I cannot agree. In many points this species differs from the alba group. Firstly, this bird is in habits unlike the latter in being practically confined to water-courses. Secondly, it is resident throughout its range, while all the alba are migratory. Thirdly, its very superior size. Fourthly, total absence of white forehead which all alba show in winter. Fifthly, ​summer and winter plumages are alike in this bird. Sixthly, this bird has no spring moult."

Motacilla maderaspatensis is the largest bird of the Wagtail group in India. While all the other species of Wagtails move out of IndiaDistribution with the advent of summer, this bird has made this country its permanent home, adding its merry and musical voice to the minstrelsy of the Indian countryside. Its range extends from Sind and Kashmir in the west to Behar and Chota Nagpur in the east, and from the lower ranges of the Himalayas in the north to Ceylon in the south. Though one is likely to meet with the bird everywhere in India, it is more locally distributed than many birds with as wide a range. In certain places they are to be found in large numbers, while in others only a few stragglers are to be seen. For example, in the town of Poona, large numbers of the Large ​Pied Wagtail live and breed in and around the river Sangam which flows past that city, while ten miles out of it, you will have to search hard to find a single bird. The city of Madras, for some reason or other, attracts large numbers of these birds, while many other towns of the Madras Presidency are not as lucky in harbouring these lively creatures as that city. This bird is very common on the shrunken river-beds of Chota Nagpur. In the Himalayas, it does not range very high up, though it has been noticed in Sikkim and Mussorie. It is rare about Darjeeling. In the hills of the Deccan, it has been found as far up as 8000 ft. It is scarce in the desert-lands of Rajputana, but a few live and breed about the lakes of Mount Abu. It is plentiful in all the well-watered portions and the great river systems of Northern India. In Bengal, few stray birds are likely to be met with in those portions of the border dis​tricts of Midnapore and Bankura which wedge into Chota Nagpur. Finn saw only one bird in the vicinity of Calcutta but perhaps it was an escaped convict. It is plentiful in Orissa. I have heard its melodious notes mingling with the music of the sea at Puri.

Legge characterises the Large Pied Wagtail as "essentially a water Wagtail—rarely found away from water". I have never noticed it far awayField Notes from water-courses, though it may not always remain actually by the water's edge. Banks of rivers, sides of brooks, ponds, tanks or wells are where it may be seen. It is neither like those birds which always love to be within sight of man, nor is it like others which regard human beings as repugnant creatures and betake themselves to solitary glens or dense forests, away from 'the madding crowd's ignoble strife.' It is completely at home by the side of a thin, meandering stream, rippling ​ along the boulder-strewn sandy bed of a spring-fed river in Chota Nagpur—where there is not a human habitation within miles. It is as much at ease on the house-top or a telephone wire in the busy area of Mylapore in Madras, where the presence of man does not in the least affect its composure. It is to be seen behind your bungalow or in front, in your ​courtyard or in the garden, and may also be found feeding in a field close by. In the month of November, I have seen in Madras a few cock Wagtails perched, on the parapet of a house, at little distance from a very serious-looking hen and pouring out their impetuous love-songs with that hypnotic ardour which only the longing for possession and spirit of rivalry can give. These song-contests reminded me of the ancient Indian ceremony of Svayambara. At the approach of the marriageable age of a particularly accomplished princess, for whose hand aspired many eligible suitors (among whom it was difficult to make a selection), it was usual to allow the bride to choose her consort. Invitations used to be issued to all royal houses. On an auspicious day the suitors used to gather in the audience-hall when the princess came out with her attendants, passed through the ranks of the expectant guests, stopped before each ​to hear the heralds recount the great deeds done by him. She carried a garland in her hands for placing it over the head of the person of her choice. When the selection was over, it was sometimes necessary for the successful suitor to defend himself against the combined attacks of the disappointed aspirants. I cannot say that the Wagtails are so methodical in selecting their mates, but they are no less artistic. Many species of Wagtails flirt outrageously to capture the imagination of the hens of their choice. They generally puff out their feathers and indulge in various acrobatic flights. The Khanjan, however, appears to trust to its vocal power as its greatest amatory asset to win for it the favour of its mate. In the mating season it becomes gregarious to some extent, though at other times it prefers to live in pairs. In the river that runs past Poona, large numbers breed in the small rock-islands below the ​embankment. Some half a dozen males regularly run after a hen, trying to hypnotise it with their songs. Perhaps a cock has found a mate and is happily engaged in professing its love in melodious tunes, when suddenly there arrive a few other males who begin their song with a loud defiance. The first cock ill affords to bear such interference in silence, and therefore duels, which are never out of date in the bird-world, frequently occur. The jilted suitors do not take their disappointment lying down, but make every attempt to justify the time-worn adage, Might is right.

The writer who described Motacilla maderaspatensis as the most lovable species among wagtails was not at all hyperbolic in his admiration. I have seen this bird at Puri, sitting on the top of a tiled house and singing most gloriously, while its mate was engaged in epicurean hunts a little ahead on the beach. As the hen moved on, the ​male also followed in a parallel female line, keeping to the house-tops. Occasionally, the cock flew down to the to share with her a particularly dainty eatable. Suddenly, the female left the beach and made straight for the city. The cock noticed this in the midst of its song which came to a sudden stop. It turned its head this side and that, probably to find out the cause of its wife's sudden flight; and unable to catch sight of any disturbing element anywhere, it looked straight ahead at the receding figure of its companion. Then uttering a sharp chirrup, which might have denoted 'Eccentricity, thy name is woman'—it left the place. Its flight was most charming and graceful. It scudded along in undulating curves, as if progressing on the crests of waves, closing the wings on the downward motion and spreading them out while swinging up. On the ground, its lightning movements, as it catches insects most deftly on the ​run, are a charming sight. An easier, and a more graceful gait is inconceivable. Suddenly darting forward, it twists and turns with wonderful agility in pursuit of an insect. It is so quick-sighted that though incessantly moving, the slightest stir on the ground ten feet ahead, which would escape our most searching gaze, would draw its attention. Before you could say Jack Robinson, the bird has run up to the spot, caught the insect, and moved away with its tail see-sawing in a most self-satisfied manner.

Its supreme agility is in keeping with ​its indefatigable activity. But it is not a fussy bird like the Mynah or the Sparrow, and does not dissipate its vigour by useless and unnecessary restlessness. Nature has not for nothing endowed it with a superabundance of energy; it is necessary for its very existence. And therefore we never find it at rest for any two seconds, and it is busy hunting for food from sunrise till sunset. And what a feed it has! "Live to eat" is perhaps the philosophy of life of this bird. The number and variety of insects devoured by it in a day is appalling. It is keen on catching very minute winged insects, large numbers of which daily fall victims to the Khanjan's appetite. Of the large insects, grasshoppers, mantidæ, caterpillars, crickets, flies, butterflies and wasps are considered edible. It seems to avoid harder insects like metallic coloured wasps and beetles, nor does it touch bugs or cockroaches. If it happens to catch a particularly fris​ky or a big unmanageable creature, it never uses its claws to tear the the prey into pieces, but hammers the object with its beak till portions give way. It catches many insects in quick succession and does not stop to swallow one before it bags another. What it does is to stow them away in its mouth till a dozen or so are caught; these are afterwards leisurely swallowed. When feeding its young, it has to bring as many insects at a time as possible to satisfy the ravenous hunger of its youngsters, because the insects cought by it are mostly minute. It is this preference for minute insects that leads it to frequent water-sides which abound with them.

In its own particular feeding area, the Khanjan refuses to concede to others of its ilk the privilege of even an occasional visit. It is fully conscious of the circumscribed supply of its food. This fear of short rations makes the Khanjan ​a cruel parent. It is loving and considerate as long as its children are helpless and unable to hunt on their own account. But as soon as the youngsters are able to do so, they are mercilessly driven out of their paternal territory.

The Khanjan takes to its domestic duties in March and its family cares last generally till May and sometimes later. It raises several broodsNests and Eggs in a season. In Southern India, these birds nest during the North-eastern Monsoon, which gives rain to the eastern portions of the Deccan Peninsula between the months of November and January.

The Khanjan is not at all fastidious about its nesting site. The neighbourhood of water and something solid to place its nest on, appear to be the two sole reservations for which it cares, and if these are available nothing else matters. Its nests have been found in holes in banks and walls, crevices in rocks, under ​stones and clods of earth, in the timber of bridges, in drains, on roofs,—in fact, "anywhere except on trees, shrubs, and bushes." "When this bird makes up its mind to build in a particular spot, no amount of adverse circumstances will deter it from carrying out its plans."

A friend of Legge wrote to him that at Futtehgur, a favourite situation was the bridge of boats, the nests being placed inside a pigeon-hole either at the bow or stern of a boat. A pair of large Pied Wagtails nested for several successive seasons in an iron ring attached to the top of a buoy in the middle of the river Jumna at Agra. Another pair built their nest in a ferry-boat which daily crossed the Chumbal. The female used to sit on its eggs most non-chalantly when the boat plied across the river. The male entertained the passengers the while by its song, sitting on the gunwale, occasionally taking short jerky flights over the water. Here is a note on its nesting from ​Poona—"Very favourite places are the little islands which stud the river (Sangam) below the Bund; to obtain the nests one has to wade out. The nests are very massive structures, usually having large foundations of all sorts of rubbish, on which the nest proper is built."

The European representative of the Pied Wagtail—M. lugubris—has been known to utilise the nests of the Swallow, Robin, and Blackbird for its own purposes. Its Indian congener, however, has not been known to do any such thing. But in Hume's Nests and Eggs of Indian Birds (edited by Oates) we find a solitary record of a Grey Wagtail—M. melanope—using a Finch's nest for the foundation of its own building.

The character and materials of its nest are as various as the site chosen for it. The nest varies from a mere pad to a neat well-formed saucer or shallow cup. As for materials, it would pick up anything that is soft,—fine twigs, grass, roots, ​wool, feathers, hair of either horse, cow or man, string, coir, rags and all sorts of vegetable fibres.

Three or four eggs usually form a clutch but five also have been found. In size and shape, they are widely different, but most of them generally resemble Larks' eggs. They vary from a long to a rather broad oval, but as a rule, all are more or less pointed towards the small end. Their ground-colour varies from brownish to greenish white, and the marks thereon are clouds, smudges, streaks, spots and specks. The colour of these markings is sometimes earthy brown, sometimes dark olive-brown, and sometimes purplish-brown. In some eggs the markings are uniform, while in others they are more dense on the large end and comparatively sparse elsewhere.

Gay, bold, elegant, and engaging, the Khanjan possesses the requisites of an ideal aviary bird. Butler considers that Wagtails are far more pleasing when kept ​in aviaries than in cages. The Indian bird-lover never dreams of accommodating his pets in aviaries. He thinks that anything bigger than his traditionalCage-life cage is a superfluity. Yet, the wonder is that birds do thrive under the conditions provided by him. Take the case of the Large Pied Wagtail or the Lark. One naturally thinks that the cage is the most undesirable place for such restless birds; they require plenty of space for their very existence and the Wagtail, in addition, needs water to paddle in. But in the small, crampy, and covered cages in which these birds are kept in India, they sing with all their natural vigour and sweetness. However successful the ordinary bird-keeper may be, I would recommend for the Khanjan a large cage in which it can freely run about.

I possessed, at different times, only two specimens of the Khanjan, one of which came to me in a very bad condition ​and died shortly after. The other lived with me for sometime but as I could not keep up a sufficient supply of insects, it eventually died. In India, adult birds are seldom welcomed, because they are far less adaptible than nestlings. But wild adult Khanjans, caught by bird-lime, are less shy than many other birds; for they begin to sing quite freely a day or two after their capture. And they do not take long to adapt themselves to artificial rations. The Khanjan is intolerant of the company of its kind and of other wagtails. So it is never wise to keep more than a pair together. A Khanjan, in my aviary even when it was a very young bird, showed fight with a perfectly healthy and adult White Wagtail (Motacilla alba).

Butler prescribes biscuits, eggs, ants' eggs, and dried flies, and adds that a small quantity of ground lentils would not be injurious. He understands that the Pied and Grey Wagtails successfully ​crossed at the London Zoological Gardens and the hybrids proved to be fertile. If this be the case, I believe the Large Pied Wagtail of India might prove an interesting study for the mule-breeder.

Below I give an account of this Wagtail in captivity as recorded by an European in the Journal of the Bombay Natural History Society—

"One day I saw hung up in a cage in the Neemuch Bazaar two half-fledged specimens of the bird. They were being fed on a mixture of ground parched gram (satoo) moistened with ghi. I was informed that they had been taken from their nest only a few days before, and fed on nothing else. I passed on thinking that of course such a purely insectivorous bird would never flourish on this diet. However, a fortnight after I found one still living, the other having died. The owner seeing me interested in it offered it to me, so I took it home and had a spacious wicker cage made for it.

​"It became, or rather it always was, excessively tame, not to say fearlessly contemptuous of man, and would at any time take insects from one's fingers, or if it found them empty attack them with mock fierceness, opening its beak, ruffling up its feathers and drooping its wings. I found that an effectual way of feeding it was to sweep with a large net in long grass and then place the cage over the mouth of it. As the insects gradually extricated themselves and struggled up to the light they were pounced upon and captured by the Wagtail. The quickness and accuracy of its movements were something wonderful. It was a most indefatigable songster, with loud clear pipe and considerable variation of song. On being transferred to this barren rock (Aden) I found it impossible to procure insects in sufficient numbers, so tried giving it sand-hoppers, annelids, small crustacea but nothing came amiss to this most accommodating little bird who ate ​these readily, occasionally varied with plum-pudding, raw meat, and chopped egg, though satoo continued to form the basis of its meals. I had had it for two years, but the climate proved too much for it and it died."

Black and white are the only colours that make up this bird's dress, much after the fashion of a Dhayal. The sexes have different attires. ButColoration the male does not put on a new dress when it goes courting. Motocilla maderaspatensis, unlike other Pied Wagtails, has no seasonal change of plumage. It has a broad supercilium from the nose to the end of the ear-coverts. The whole head, neck, upper plumage, the lesser and median coverts are black, while the greater wing-coverts are entirely white and the quills black with white edges. The middle four pairs of the tail-feathers are black with narrow white margin, while the other two pairs are white. The breast and the lower plumage ​are white; the sides of the breast and upper body are infuscated.

The female differs in only having the upper plumage more or less greyish.

Young birds have an adult pattern of plumage, but in the place of black, the colour is everywhere greyish brown. The supercilium again is not indicated in front of the eye, and the white portions are fulvous. Some black plumes on the head in the first spring herald the assumption of adult plumage, but the full livery is not assumed till the next autumn moult.

Legs, feet, and bill are black. The bill is long and slender; feet scaly; iris dark-brown. The male is generally about nine inches in length, the female being much smaller.