intermedia), because their nests are sometimes seen in January.

FEBRUARY

Even as January in northern India may be compared to a month made up of English May days and March nights, so may the Indian February be likened to a halcyon month composed of sparkling, sun-steeped June days and cool starlit April nights.

February is the most pleasant month of the whole year in both the Punjab and the United Provinces; even November must yield the palm to it. The climate is perfect. The nights and early mornings are cool and invigorating; the remainder of each day is pleasantly warm; the sun's rays, although gaining strength day by day, do not become uncomfortably hot save in the extreme south of the United Provinces. The night mists, so characteristic of December and January, are almost unknown in February, and the light dews that form during the hours of darkness disappear shortly after sunrise.

The Indian countryside is now good to look upon; it possesses all the beauties of the landscape of July; save the sunsets. The soft emerald hue of the young wheat and barley is rendered more vivid by contrast with the deep rich green of the mango trees. Into the earth's verdant carpet is worked a gay pattern of white poppies, purple linseed blooms, blue and pink gram flowers, and yellow blossoms of mimosa, mustard and arhar. Towards the end of the month the silk-cotton trees (Bombax malabarica) begin to put forth their great red flowers, but not until March does each look like a great scarlet nosegay.

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.

Both nest in holes in trees and lay white eggs after the manner of their kind. The scops owl breeds from January till April, while February and March are the months in which to look for the eggs of the wood-owl.

In the western districts of the United Provinces the Indian cliff-swallows (Hirundo fluvicola) are beginning to construct their curious nests. Here and there a pair of blue rock-pigeons (Colombia intermedia) is busy with eggs or young ones. In the Punjab the ravens are likewise employed.

The nesting season of the hoopoe has now fairly commenced. Courtship is the order of the day. The display of this beautiful species is not at all elaborate. The bird that "shows off" merely runs along the ground with corona fully expanded. Mating hoopoes, however, perform strange antics in the air; they twist and turn and double, just as a flycatcher does when chasing a fleet insect. Both the hoopoe and the roller are veritable aerial acrobats. By the end of the month all but a few of the hoopoes have begun to nest; most of them have eggs, while the early birds, described in January as stealing a march on their brethren, are feeding their offspring. The 6th February is the earliest date on which the writer has observed a hoopoe carrying food to the nest; that was at Ghazipur.

March and April are the months in which the majority of coppersmiths or crimson-breasted barbets rear up their families. Some, however, are already working at their nests. The eggs are hatched in a cavity in a tree—a cavity made by means of the bird's bill. Both sexes take part in nest construction. A neatly-cut circular hole, about the size of a rupee, on the lower surface or the side of a branch is assuredly the entrance to the nest of a coppersmith, a green barbet, or a woodpecker.

As the month draws to its close many a pair of nuthatches (Sitta castaneiventris) may be observed seeking for a hollow in which to nestle. The site selected is usually a small hole in the trunk of a mango tree that has weathered many monsoons. The birds reduce the orifice of the cavity to a very small size by plastering up the greater part of it with mud. Hence the nest of the nuthatch, unless discovered when in course of construction, is difficult to locate.

All the cock sunbirds (Arachnechthra asiatica) are now in the full glory of their nuptial plumage. Here and there an energetic little hen is busily constructing her wonderful pendent nest. Great is the variety of