Back to Book Details Report Reviews

Hornbills Ahoy

 Hornbills Ahoy

By Katie Bagli

Mumbai, India

 

Torro the Indian Grey Hornbill offered one last fig which he had especially fetched from a nearby banyan tree, to his lady love Shinoo.  It was now time to say goodbye.  Time for Shinoo to confine herself in the hollow of the large Haldu tree for the next three months during which time she would be raising her family.  In her tree chamber – which was to be more like a prison - she would be laying her eggs and nurturing her chicks that would hatch.  This is actually a strategy to ensure absolute safety from predators for both chicks and mother.

The two love birds had been courting each other for a long time.  Together they had scoured the land, examining tree after tree and hollow after hollow.  It had to be the right size, and comfortable enough.  Torro wanted nothing less than the best for Shinoo whom he loved so dearly.  He had even gone to the extent of checking the direction of the wind when they finally zeroed in upon the Haldu tree.  It should blow into the hollow through the narrow slit that would be her only connection with the outside world, not away from the hollow.  Shinoo should feel cool enough in her new home.  The hollow in the Haldu tree had some dried leaves, twigs and cobwebs – all left-over traces of its earlier occupant, a myna.  But Shinoo promptly flung all that away.

The two hornbills had spent the past few weeks of courtship in expressing their amorous feelings for each other.  Every now and then they would grapple each other’s beaks gently, as if exchanging kisses. 

Torro would get figs, berries and bugs, passing them into Shinoo’s long beak.  She would playfully pass the goods back into his beak.  It was a kind of back and forth game they loved to play.  He would also shower her with weird gifts like mud pellets or bark pieces from the nearby mango or neem trees.  The sticky mud pellets Shinoo would pile up in the chosen hollow while the bark pieces she would juggle in her beak like a clown and then crush into powder.  Torro did not mind her doing this, in fact he enjoyed watching her doing it.

Both partners knew that the phase in their lives of playing games and expressing amorous feelings had now come to an end.  The eggs in Shinoo’s belly were almost ready to be laid.  They both felt heavy-hearted as the time had come for them to part.  For one long moment which never seemed to end, Shinoo and Torro gazed at each other adoringly.  And then Shinoo took the leap of faith, hopping into the hollow. 

She began sealing herself inside, using the pellets she had collected in the chamber, mixing each of them with her own excreta to form a kind of cement.  The rounded casque on her bill helped to add the finishing touches to the seal.  Torro waited outside all the while, watching his sweetheart disappear gradually.  A narrow slit was all that was left in the seal.  They could no longer see each other but they could at least talk to each other.

Shinoo felt rather claustrophobic inside the chamber once the seal was made.  She needed more room for her eggs.  “Are you feeling alright?” Torro called anxiously. 

“I think I need to make more room for our chicks,” Shinoo replied.  “I know what, I can pluck off most of my feathers.”  Out flew the feathers through the slit.  The scene was set for the next stage in the lives of Torro and Shinoo, that of parenthood.

Torro began spending all his time flying up and down, fetching heaps of food for Shinoo, as if she was going to starve inside. 

The slit in the nest hollow was just big enough for the tip of her bill to come out and collect whatever her mate brought.   At times he would fetch the leaves of a nearby Neem tree instead of food.  These Shinoo would spread over the floor of the chamber. They would help deter insect pests like ants, Shinoo knew that.

Each time Torro would alight next to Shinoo’s confinement with some goods he would call out chirpily in a sing-song manner, “Hello dearest, here I come with the goods.”

And Shinoo would flutter her long eyelashes and promptly reply, “I hope you remembered to get the bark pieces.”

If Torro had indeed forgotten to do so, he would fly back to fetch them, as if they were of utmost importance.  Shinoo did not crush the bark anymore like she used to.  Instead, she used it to poop on.  The foiled bark piece, having been used as a kind of mobile toilet, would then be tossed out of the slit.  Thus, with Torro’s help the nest chamber was kept spotlessly clean and pest-free.

Early one morning, Torro arrived at the nest, his bill loaded with three juicy figs, a lizard and even a small mouse.  He felt very triumphant about it.  But before he could call out to Shinoo he was greeted with shrill cheepings and chirpings.  His heart began to race with excitement.  His babies were born.  He desperately tried to get a glimpse of them but his enormous beak came in the way.  The two proud parents expressed their joy by renting the air singing a duet – melodious by Hornbill standards but very raucous and cacophonic by human standards.

Now Torro’s duties increased double-fold.  He had to fetch food for Shinoo as well as the three eternally hungry babies.  But he did it all cheerfully and with great gusto, his eyes glinting with happiness. 

The days seemed to roll by in a blurry whirlwind for Torro.  He had thinned down with all the hard work.  His casque now looked disproportionately large on his skinny frame.  But the babies had grown and looked very healthy.   More than two months had passed since Shinoo had sealed herself in the nest chamber.  One day she called out to Torro, “Dearest, you have worked really hard to feed our babies and me all these months.  It is time I come out and help you.  They are old enough; they can stay by themselves while we go together in search of food.  Besides, it is getting overcrowded inside here.”

Thus saying, Shinoo began tapping on her own seal.  After several minutes of tapping, she managed to make the opening just large enough for her to squeeze out.  “Oooh, I find the sun too bright for my eyes after all these days of living in the dark,” she declared, tottering on her legs as she hadn’t used them for so long.

“But you look ravishing in your coat of new feathers!” Torro cried jauntily.  After feasting on the goodies Torro had brought and regurgitating some into the mouths of her babies, she felt stronger and steadier on her feet. 

“Come, let me lead you to the Peepal tree where we can have another feast together on its luscious fruits, just you and I, like in the good old days.”  

Shinoo was overjoyed.  At last she could stretch her cramped up wings.  At last she could take to the skies.  Before setting off, she called out a warning, “Kids, I shall be going with Papa to fetch some lunch for you.  Don’t you venture out of your nest, it may not be safe.  Besides, you still have to go through your flying lessons with me.  I’ll be back soon, ta ta!”

With a noisy flapping of wings, the two of them flew off, wingtip to wingtip, delighted to be in each other’s company once again.  Little did they suspect what was to follow in the nest chamber in their absence.

One of the three siblings, Chocho, was of an inquisitive nature.  ‘Curiosity can kill the cat’ they say and sure enough, his inquisitive nature landed him into trouble.  As soon as his parents were out of sight, he poked his little head out of his nest hole.  Enchanted by the sight of butterflies fluttering about like flying jewels, squirrels scampering up and down branches as if they were in a tearing hurry, and other birds circling the skies jubilantly with great mastery, he leaned out even more.

“Watch out!” Chocho’s sister called out.  “Don’t lean so much, you can lose your balance.”  But Chocho paid no heed.

As was bound to happen, he lost his balance and fell out of the nest hole.  “Weeee!” he called aloud.  He tried to mimic other birds by flapping his little wings vigorously, but that didn’t help.  He could not get the buoyancy needed to fly, as he had not yet learnt the trick.  Down, down, down he went, somersaulting several times.  Very fortunately, Chocho made a soft landing on a patch of grass and wasn’t hurt at all, only a little shaken up.  After getting back his breath he began hopping about, taking in all the new sights the outside world had to offer. 

He squinted at a trail of ants carrying a dead dragonfly towards their underground home.  He was puzzled by the frogs staring at him out of bulging eyes.  He felt adventurous and ventured further and further away from the Haldu tree where his home was. 

Oblivious of any danger, Chocho found himself suddenly surrounded by a troop of young mongooses.  They found the little downy chick amusing and as if he were a toy, began tossing him about playfully.  Chocho did not find this fun at all.  It hurt him and he cheeped loudly, voicing his protest.  Along came the mother mongoose who saw Chocho in a different light.  To her Chocho meant food - albeit just a morsel - not a plaything.  The chick would have surely been a meal for the hungry mongoose if lady luck had not smiled at him in the nick of time.  Just as the mother mongoose was going to dig her teeth into Chocho she heard a hissing sound from behind her.  A cobra had reared up his head, his hood flared, and was flickering his tongue menacingly, ready to strike her.  The mongoose was not going to take it easy.  A battle of fur and scales ensued with the mongoose repeatedly nipping the snake while the latter coiled himself around the mongoose’s neck in a vice-like grip.  The young mongoose siblings stood frozen, watching their mother in awe.  Chocho was forgotten in all this confusion.  The little chick, battered and exhausted, slunk away and made good his escape, not one bit interested in who was going to win the battle.

When Torro and Shinoo returned to their nest, they were appalled to find Chocho missing.  Their other two chicks agitatedly explained to their parents what had happened.  The two adult birds called out loudly as they flew off again, scouring the land in various directions, worried sick about their missing baby. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Shinoo and Torro heard a faint cheeping from the undergrowth down below.  “It’s Chocho, I can recognise his voice!” exclaimed Shinoo.  “It’s a distress call.  He is in danger.  Quick, let us hurry!”

Even as the two parent birds steered towards the direction, they saw a Black-winged Kite hovering over his target – Chocho.  With a sudden surge of energy and a noisy flapping of wings, Shinoo intercepted the kite’s path and scooped her helpless little baby off the ground with her long beak, not a moment too soon.

Back at the Haldu tree, the entire Hornbill family, Shinoo, Torro and the two sisters, fussed over Chocho who was so shaken up by his misadventure.  “I will never be foolhardy enough to poke my head out of the nest again,” Chocho told his parents between sobs.

“Now don’t you worry your little head,” Shinoo comforted him.  “Mama and Papa will begin your flying lessons from tomorrow.  And when the time is right, you will fly out of this home forever, to forage for your own food and wander about where you please.  It’s a beautiful world out there, once you know how to take care of yourself and give danger a wide berth.”    

 

END

 

(All photos attached here: © Vinod Goel)

Reviews


Your Rating

blank-star-rating

Left Menu