Carriers of life

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Dr. A.A Quraisy

Birds are unique and life giving in their own ways. Their conservation, especially across Pakistan is direly needed.

The world of birds is fantastic. It is full of wonder in shape with chirping calls, singing and romantic displays including the ethereal shows of gorgeous plumes, exquisite combination of design, superb arrangement of feathers and the placing of color producing units which, although in close proximity never err in producing feather of specific design color and size that the Almighty had painted with moving finger and pen that is a brush at one time and a quill at another.

Next time when you see a bulbul or a parakeet cooing and chirping on the branches of the tree in front of your window, any attention to the arrangement of the feathers in the neck on the wings, and on the head and you will know what I am hinting it. There will be wings that will make a whirring sound in flight, a loud shain shain by the other or no sound at all by the other group, as in the owl in search of a lurking rat. The wings of the owl, although in flight, beating rapidly to keep the bird poised in the air, will be soundless so that its prey will not know about it. The attack will be in total silence. When the vulture or kite it takes off, its beating of the wings for a lift from the ground will be audible even at twenty feet. The wings at fifty to eighty beats per second in a humming bird will be inaudible, even to the bird itself!

And so on, the caravan of strange and the eerie goes on endlessly in the air, in the silent world of the sea and in dreaded desert. The mind of man boggles in amazement at the creative ingenuity of the Almighty, the greatest artist of the universe who has also created birds that cannot fly at all; and yet they sing, hop, run and can outrun a galloping horse. That was necessary because the wilderness where they live is full of blood thirsty predators that hunt day and night.

Among them are winged members of prey that are a dignified lot because they do not eat the dead – a very different creation far above the repugnant brotherhood that does this act.

Over fifty species of these proud elites are spread over the globe, some of which eat the fish that they catch without giving time to the wily fish to dive down. The bald eagle – the national bird of America is one I am hinting at.

You may have seen the colorful kingfisher poised stationary in the air, scanning the water below for a minnow where it will drop and swoop like a F-16, enter the water if necessary and emerge with quivering prey in is beak.

One of the spectacular members in style and skill is kestrel that can poise itself in the air like a helicopter, turning right and left in search of a mouse on which it will dive, catch it, fly back, perch on a branch, and gobble it as if it were a tasty pizza from a six star hotel. I have spent hours watching this fascinating bird that does not care whether it is being watched and keeps on searching in the wild in the bush, in grassy patches, in shrubs and perches in a shady tree to rest, plan for the evening trip and snooze because it is warm outside. It resumes in the evening when it is cool enough. Why bother about storing the food? I can see up to the horizon from my perch high in the tree and I hear the chorus of chun chun at night; so, I imagine there must be many more. You know I cannot count because I never went to a school; so my way of estimating is little, many and many more.

On the other hand, I have seen vultures eating, snatching meat from the carcasses and gobble until it cannot not take off. At that miserable stage when it will sit on a nearby tree and throw back morsel after morsel until it is light enough to take off.

The world of feathered community is composed of the clean, the drab, the lovely, and not necessarily beauty from our point of view where some can sing, prance like playful kids, many can fly, dive, soar, swoop, weave like an expert weaver, usurp, dig – absolutely amusing – activities like us and not at all like us.

When in romantic mood a male will dance like amorous Romeo for hours before a bevy of admiring, smiling, belles, watching him with sly glance, sing, whistle, like a canary, imitate calls of different birds, including the resonant trumpeting of the mighty sarus crane – high above, in the lower clouds.

I will urge my readers to excuse my fluttering memory, hopping here and there, without caring that I was to describe the birds that hate the dead; but I love nature and when I enter their realm I get astray, pulled by the magnetic domain of the feathered world. They are a pleasing lot and if you listen or watch the form through your window, you too will get lost in admiring environ like me.

Birds of prey have fascinated man from time immemorial for their ability to hunt game birds like partridges, houbara and pigeons in flight. The Arabs zoom on particular species of falcon like peregrine and pay fabulous money to purchase them to hunt game birds and houbara every year, irrespective of the international ban on killing of houbara. Their logic is simple when the country’s bureaucracy invites them, why should they refuse such hospitality?

I have been with the Arab sheikhs on their falconry trip, the like of which the commoner will not witness. Here it is: on reaching the target area the, hooded falcons are placed on their perch and held steady by the attendant. When a houbara is flushed out the hood is removed at which it adjusts its sight and on locating the query, takes off. The houbara flies slower than the falcon and soon enough the falcon slashes the bird with its talons, the injured bird falls on the ground with falcon on the top. There are shouts of joy and encouragement for the falcon on its expertise.  

During the chase, a jeep races to prevent the falcon from tearing the bird to pieces. A small piece of the houbara usually from the brisket area is removed and offered to the excited and hungry falcon as a reward. Before the hunt the falcon is kept hungry for twenty four hours. The small piece of the meat is not enough and the hood is placed again on the head of the bird, the hood replaced and the bird goes back on the perch again.

This process is repeated until the targeted number of birds have been hunted for the day. At the camp, the gizzards of houbara are wrapped in aluminum foils and tossed in cinders. The sheikhs had spent a fortune for this delicacy which, as the myth goes, acts as an aphrodisiac, the like of which no man made drug can provide.

In this group of birds are eagles, falcons, buzzards, hawks, shrikes – all killers that do not touch the dead. The list is however long and amusing so I will request the readers to search for detail of a particular species because all are interesting studies that know no end.