Pet Birds of Bengal/The Shama
PET BIRDS OF BENGAL
(SONG BIRDS)
SHAMA
PET BIRDS OF BENGAL
⦂0⦂
THE SHAMA
(CITTOCINCLA MACRURA)
The Shama, as a songster, is entitled to the first place in the whole feathered community of India, and for the matter of that, in Bengal. For a competitor to whom it yields in song, we have to look to regions which are, strictly speaking, outside India, to that unassuming bird which, despite its homely beauty, has been rendered immortal by its vocal charms—the Nightingale. Though the Shama is overstepped by this prince of songsters by a long distance, yet the sweetness of its song is highly remarkable for its variety, depth, impetuousness, and modulation, which have made it the darling of both the high and the low throughout the length and breadth of India. This bird was familiar to our ancestors in the long past. The name Shama signifies 'glossy dark'—a predominant colour of the bird. The name has another fascination for the Hindus, whose love and reverence for the goddess of that name are so well-known. The bird has yet another charm. It is very docile in captivity, though so bold and fearless in demeanour. This, added to its beauty and its wonderful capacity for imitating human voices and calls of other birds and animals, has greatly enhanced its value as a caged pet. The attention which it can thus command from its master is no less remarkable. It is commonly kept in a lovely cage of superior workmanship, always wrapped up with a piece of clean linen, and taken out every evening for an airing. Those who can afford, engage servants specially for this purpose, and it is not an unusual sight in many an Indian city to see several such cages taken out to a municipal park or open ground for the airing. A covered cage is always looked upon by the Indians as essential to keeping a bird in health and song. The belief has taken such a firm hold on the mind of the masses that no amount of reasoning can dissuade them from this practice which is obviously contrary to all hygienic rules; for, in fact, birds in open cages, enjoying air and light, do not sing the less or fare the worse in health. In spite of this drawback in caging, the caged Shama can be pronounced to be an avicultural success, for the bird grows robust and lives long in confinement, and, except for the short moulting period, it sings throughout the year. And, since the bird is often caged when young, it gets accustomed to human intrusion, and acquires a non-chalant air about it, singing away its days quite oblivious of the presence of man.
The Shama, in freedom, is not a familiar sight to us. It is a denizen of thick jungles and dense forests, keeping generally to the underwood. It loves to frequent thickets in glades and valleys located in the midst of hills or mountains.Distribution It is, therefore, absent in the districts devoid of these natural features. In Bengal, which is one of the most thickly populated provinces, this bird confines itself to those jungly districts where human habitation is scarce. For this reason, it rarely makes the Deltaic portion of Bengal its place of abode, but is often a dweller of the western skirts of the districts of Midnapore and Birbhum. Eastwards from the Padma in the verdant hills of Cachar, Assam, and Tipperah, it is very numerous. In other parts of India, its most important ranges are the Terai districts of the Sub-Himalayan regions from Nepal to Dibrugarh in Assam. It is also represented in the well-wooded hills and forests of Central India, Orissa, Chotanagpur, and the Rajmahal Hills. In Southern India, it is a permanent resident of the hill-ranges of the West as far north as Khandalla in the Sahyadri. Its range extends beyond the Palk Straits into Ceylon, where it is very abundant. In the eastern parts of the Deccan, it is seen in Malabar. It is absolutely a stranger in the provinces west of the Ganges, and in Rajputana. It is widely and abundantly found all over Burma.
It is invariably a resident bird in the localities to which its range is confined, but in the hill-tracts of Cachar, it has been observed to be a winter visitant. It seldom ascends the hills to any great height,Field Notes nor is it ever seen in cultivated tracts, however well-wooded. The hills and forests, the jungles around streams, and woods in valleys and dales which the bird frequents are hardly considered by it as its safest retreats; and so, by way of further precaution, this wary bird betakes itself to the most impervious thickets, underwood, and clumpy bushes, where it is able to escape the most searching observations. Almost everywhere within its range, the bird shows a preference for particular spots, over which it holds sway and even seems to stick to these favoured haunts in spite of devastations by occasional fires, which break out in the forests.
The Shama thus chooses for its habitation places where Nature is luxuriant and arrayed in its varied glories. In the mornings and evenings, from the midst of a hush or a bamboo-scrub—for which it seems to have a partiality—it mingles its impetuous melody with the music of rustling leaves and murmuring rills. And, while rapt in its own song, the least sound will send it scurrying through the air—so shy and easily alarmed it is! But its flight is never long; and re-alighting at a short distance, it vanishes into leafy cover, whence it renews its song with as much vigour. When the usual notes are thus suddenly interrupted, the bird gives out a sort of monosyllabic sound, which Legge says resembles churr churr. But to me it hears more like t'chat t'chat. This peculiar sound is accompanied by a jerking up of the tail.
It never soars high into the air, nor is it ever seen perched on the topmost branches of trees; but it makes it a point to keep as near the ground as possible, generally selecting low branches for perching. From such a position, it is always on the look-out for any insect which may stray into view. As soon as it notices its prey, it comes down to pick it up; and if, in the act of swallowing the worm, it happens to spot another, it hops up to bag this one also. It is chiefly insectivorous, its menu consisting of grasshoppers, small beetles, ants, flies and their congeners.
Solitary in its habits, it aggressively drives away any member of its own community, and on the approach of one, it will at once attack the latter, fighting fiercely till one gives ground. The unsociability of this bird falsifies the proverb that birds of a feather flock together. This peevish temper makes it shun even the proximity of its unobtrusive mate, who wisely keeps aloof, and from a distance, takes silent pride in the vocal attainments of her enchanter. If, by inadvertence, she comes too near her lord, he forgets all codes of chivalry and does not even hesitate to give her a sound chastisement.
The only season, when the Shama does not dislike the company of its mate, is when instinct obtains mastery over its temper in the mating period. It mates during April and June, and the female rears up the brood.Nests and Eggs Hollows in trees or stumps from two to twenty feet from the ground are selected by it for nesting, and sometimes she takes advantage of holes made by other birds. She stuffs up the hollow with dry leaves about three inches thick, and makes upon this bed of leaves a loose nest of twigs and grass. The eggs laid by her are usually four in number, rather small in size, and ovate in shape. The ground colour is dull greenish, 
SHAMA very often a pale sea-green. The whole is densely freckled with rich brown, thickly mingled with dull purplish.
If there is any bird which repays the care bestowed on it, it is the Shama. Its rich coloration, bold and vivacious movements, powerful and melodious voice and unlimited power of mimicry—all combine to make it the most desirable subject for the cage or the aviary.Cage-life Though in India this bird has received the attention of bird-lovers from time immemorial, no one seems to have studied it from an avicultural view-point. We know little of its wild life; and we, in India, knew as little about its life in the cage till Europeans took up the study.
The Shama is one of those birds which in a free state shun all intimacy with man. But once caged, it seems to forget all antipathy towards him and becomes the most lovable pet. It never pines for its loss of liberty; and its easy and cheerful life indicates that it fully appreciates the love and care of its protector. If hearty cheerfulness conduces to long life, it is no wonder that the Shama stands a life of bondage so well and so long.
When accommodating the Shama, it should be remembered that it is very restless. It is always frisking about with its tail working up and down. It should have sufficient space inside the cage; otherwise its continual tail-play will injure that beautiful appendage of its graceful person. While introducing it into the aviary, it should be kept in mind that this bird, however tame it may be, has a wonderful combative temperament. The presence of another Shama serves as a red rag to a bull. It never condescends to accept others of its kind as chums, and seems to think that the latter are there to be its uncomplaining fags. When in a warlike mood, its healthy optimism would even lead it to give battle to its keeper, if the latter were to enter the aviary without the conciliatory dish of mealworms. It carries its aloofness to such an extent that it would at first refuse to chum up with a female Shama if introduced into its dwelling. The male does not seem to be at all anxious for a feminine companion. You can never thrust a female Shama near a male without a lengthy introduction. The female, knowing well the tyrannical temper of the male, will at first shrink in fear. Both should at first be kept in different cages inside the same aviary. Occasionally, they may be let loose. At first there is sure to be trouble, but the male will begin to tolerate the female gradually, and may even mate in the long run.
Indian experience has seldom recorded any instance of the Shama breeding in captivity. A couple of years back I noticed a pair trying to build a nest in the hollow of a stump inside an aviary of the Calcutta Zoological Gardens, but nothing came of it. A pair of Shamas, in the aviary of Mr. G. C. Mandal of Calcutta, built a nest and hatched their young which, however, did not survive long. But we find mention of several instances of the Shama having bred in captivity in England. In this direction, the observations of Mr. Reginald Phillips are of great value. The female Shama seems to take the initiative in building a nest. The male never responds to the female's silent appeal until the former is thoroughly satisfied as to the latter's earnestness. In selecting materials for the nest, the female shows much discrimination. In one instance, it carried dead leaves of Ivy and Euonymus while it studiedly rejected those of Rhododendrons. It chose straw and the finest hay for the inner lining of the nest but never looked at moss and hair. The period of incubation seems to last for about eleven or twelve days. It is only when the nestlings come out that the keeper will feel the greatest difficulty as to food. While in ordinary times the Shama would take to all sorts of artificial food, it refuses to eat anything but insects at this time. The keeper will thus be hard put to in maintaining a sufficient supply of live grubs both for the chicks and the parents. A regular supply of mealworms and cock-roaches should be kept up at this time. The mealworms need not be cut up into pieces. The capacious throat of the young bird can receive whole cock-roaches without the least danger of suffocation. In India we hand-rear captive nestlings with satoo made into soft paste with water, and a few grasshoppers. It is interesting to note how the parent-birds try to keep the fact of its nest a secret. In your presence it will never go straight to its nest but will make a show of stopping at different places before finally entering it. The Shama is very careful about sanitation, and the male may often be seen carrying the excreta, and dropping them at places far from the nest. When the young are considered able to fly, the mother-bird gives them a preliminary course of training by supporting them from beneath, after shoving them off a perch. As soon as the aviary-bred nestlings attain their adult plumage, the question naturally arises as to the propriety of in-breeding and even trying any experiment of cross-breeding a Shama with an English bird like the Robin.
In this country it thrives well on satoo prepared with boiled ghee, grass-hoppers, and a few maggots. In England it is given cock-roaches, mealworms, gentles, ants' eggs and the yolk of hard-boiled eggs. Pieces of raw meat are also given, but this should be sparingly used, for too much of this food may bring on diarrhœa. Ordinarily the Shama does not require any great attention. But at the time of moulting, careful watching and feeding are necessary, for then it is susceptible to a kind of warty growth on the legs and feet and the space immediately above the eyes. It should be carefully guarded against cold and draughts during the period.
Its song loses none of its charm in confinement. Besides its usual song, it has a habit of uttering a few set phrases over and over again, pausing after each utterance. These repetitions are rendered in the vernacular as "Gopeejee rojee bhejo" (Send us our daily bread, O! Gopeejee). These sounds are repeated a great number of times and then suddenly changed. Its imitative faculty knows no bounds. It can mock any bird to perfection and can faithfully render the voices of cocks, crows, and kites. Even the female Shama is not altogether devoid of song. My own specimen sings as beautifully as the male and repeats the above-mentioned set phrases. It is no wonder therefore that in some countries, the bird is called "Hundred-Tongued."
In India the Shama is housed in a cage which is generally kept covered. But the aviary with plenty of space, air, and light is the best place for keeping it. It may be rough in its dealings with its own kind, but it seldom gives trouble to others of the avian community. If you care for its cheerfulness, you should always provide for the luxury of a bath, for this bird is inordinately fond of a dip in water. It is curious that if there be two male Shamas in the same aviary, none would even bathe. Because a bath means wet plumage which means damaged armour to a bird, and a wet bird succumbs easily if attacked. In one case it cost a Shama its life for bathing in an aviary where it had a pugnacious companion.
The Shama is easily available for purchase all over the country. Birds caught young in the Terai are brought down in numbers to Gorakhpur and Monghyr to be hand-reared. These birds take to cage-life easily but those from Midnapore, generally caught while adult, very often pine away in captivity.
The Shama's outward appearance is beautiful and striking, if not gaudy. The head, back, and throat with the neck and breast are black with a splendid gloss throughout.[1]Coloration All the underparts are a rich bright chestnut except the thighs which are white. The rump and the upper tail-coverts are white; and during excitement when the bird puffs up its whole plumage, the downs on these two parts show conspicuously in two fluffy patches of snowy whiteness. The wings are dark brown, and the primaries edged with lighter brown. The tail of the Shama is a very important part of its anatomy inasmuch as the length of the tail gives to this extremely graceful bird much of its grace. The central tail-feathers are the longest while the lateral are much graduated, which means that they gradually become shorter on both sides. The two pairs of central tail-feathers are completely black, while the others are white at the end, the white increasing gradually on the outer feathers. The basal end is always black. The line of demarcation between the black and the white is drawn in an irregularly slanting direction.
This pleasing coloration is denied to the less assuming female Shama, in which black is replaced by slaty brown and chestnut by rufous. The female birds of Tenasserim are often darker than their Indian cousins.
The bill of the Shama is slender, compressed and black, its legs are of pale flesh-colour, its claws light horn and eyes deepest brown.
The baby Shama is dark brown in its upper parts with reddish edges to wing-coverts; underneath, it is pale rufous with brown mottlings on the throat and breast. Its colour, however, varies a good deal. A full-fledged young does not take long to assume full adult plumage.
The usual length of the Shama is eleven inches, the female being smaller by an inch in the tail.
- ↑ I have, however, noticed Shamas with chestnut streaks just above both the eyes—a thin straight line elongated bothways towards the nape and the mandible but not reaching those parts.