Glimpses of Indian Birds — A Reader’s Guide

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Authors: Dewar, Douglas, 1875-1957 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2014 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Birds -- India Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 79,014

Reading time 344 min

Text sections 10

Glimpses of Indian Birds — A Reader’s Guide can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 79,014 words, 5 hr 44 min estimated reading time, and 10 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 20.6 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Birds -- India,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #46425

Dewar's sketches challenge protective coloration theories using firsthand observations of Indian birds, with precise details on plumage, migration, and behavior that invite readers to question received zoological dogma.

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wnie bird,” with the head grey and the lower parts bright yellow. With the exception of the _Rhipidura_, all these flycatchers had come down from the Himalayas.

While watching their graceful movements, my attention was attracted by a curious grating sound that emanated from the branches immediately over my head. On looking up, I saw a crow-pheasant (_Centropus rufipennis_) running up a branch in the inimitable manner of his kind. His bright red eye was fixed on me, and he had evidently made up his cuculine mind that “distance lends enchantment to the view” of a human being, and accordingly lost no time in making his exit.

Scarcely had I lost sight of him when there was a considerable commotion in the pipal tree near by. When running to discover the cause of this I startled half a dozen pipits (_Anthus rufulus_) that, hidden by the grass, were feeding on the ground. They, as is their wont when frightened, flew into the foliage. Pipits are dull brown birds, streaked like larks, that display tail-wagging propensities. I discovered that the bird making the commotion near the summit of the pipal tree was a vulture. Very large and out of place did it seem struggling among the slender branches with wings spread-eagled. It was tugging away vigorously at a small branch and soon succeeded in breaking it off. Having accomplished this, it scrambled on to what looked like a large ball of dried leaves and twigs caught in one of the upper branches. This was a nest in course of construction, which the vulture was lining with pipal branches. Presently the huge bird flew off, and I was then able to identify it as the white-backed vulture (_Pseudogyps bengalensis_). I returned to the mango tree beneath which I had been standing, and in so doing disturbed a bee-eater (_Merops viridis_) that was perching on one of the lower branches. Of the presence in the vicinity of these charming little birds I was already aware from their soft twitterings. I had not actually seen them, because their habit is to perch on the outer branches of trees, whence they make aerial sallies after insects.

The calls of the blossom-headed parakeets (_Palæornis cyanocephalus_), far softer and mellower than those of the rose-ringed species, had at frequent intervals mingled with the notes of the other birds; and at this moment one of these green parrots settled on a branch quite close to me. Her slate-coloured head showed her to be a hen; in this species the head of the cock is coloured like a ripe plum.

Sharp sounds, like those made by insects, issuing from every tree revealed the presence of warblers. These birds were so small and so active that I am not certain to what species they belonged. The majority of them were, I believe, willow warblers (_Phylloscopus tristis_).

At intervals the _to-wee to-wee_ of the tailor-bird (_Orthotomus sutorius_) had rung out clear and distinct from the medley of sounds that filled the grove. Suddenly two tailor-birds came on the scene, one chasing the other. They alighted on a horizontal bough, where they tarried sufficiently long to enable me to see the chestnut crown so characteristic of the species.

I have omitted to make mention of the sprightly magpie-robin (_Copsychus saularis_). Of this species there was at least one pair in that little grove, and several times did the cock descend to the ground, and hop about, with tail erect. He is arrayed in black and white, and a smarter-looking bird does not exist. His mate also put in an appearance; she has all his sprightliness and is equally tastefully attired in grey and white.

Having spent an hour in the grove, I had to return to my tent to work, without having witnessed all the _dramatis personæ_ of the daily pageant. As I was leaving the tope a hen brown-backed robin (_Thamnobia cambaiensis_) hopped out of an _arhar_ field and stood beneath a mango tree, carrying her tail erect so as to display the red undertail coverts.

After I had reached my tent, fifty yards away, I heard the _kutur—kutur—kuturuk_ of the green barbet (_Thereiceryx zeylonicus_), the loud tap, tap, tap of the golden-backed woodpecker (_Brachypternus aurantius_), and the cheerful notes of the king crow (_Dicrurus ater_).

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Douglas Dewar opens Glimpses of Indian Birds with a direct challenge to the prevailing theories of protective coloration, which he calls a “creed” that has made “authorities” and “schools” the curse of science. Drawing on Huxley, he asserts that nine out of ten birds have some feature that these theories cannot explain. The book is not a systematic field guide but a series of sketches that test hypotheses against what the author sees in the field. Readers should expect a polemical edge: Dewar is as interested in correcting ornithological dogma as in describing birds.

A Polemical Preface Sets the Tone

The preface is essential for understanding Dewar’s approach. He attacks “cabinet zoologists” who have elaborated field naturalists’ hypotheses into rigid doctrine. His dedication to Theodore Roosevelt—a hunter and naturalist who “declines to be dictated to by those who have constituted themselves zoological authorities”—signals the combative stance that runs through the book. Dewar claims that reviewers have called his criticisms superficial but have not rebutted them, and he invites them to try. This preface frames the entire work as a corrective to armchair science, urging readers to trust their own eyes over received opinion.

Precise Observations on Plumage and Behavior

Dewar’s descriptions are grounded in specific details. He notes that the Indian redstart’s “sudden transformation” when it flies reveals a red back that is otherwise hidden. He contrasts the perverse Indian robin, which wears its red patch “on the seat of its trousers,” with the familiar robin of England. On wagtails, he records that the pied wagtail has a black head with a white eyebrow, while the white wagtail has a white face and throat. Such details are not mere identification tips; they are evidence for his argument that coloration often defies adaptive explanations.

Migration Records as a Call to Citizen Science

Dewar repeatedly gives exact dates for first sightings of migrants—for example, the Indian redstart on September 22, 1906, and September 27, 1907, in Lahore. He urges “bird-lovers of fixed abode in India” to record such dates year after year, calling this a service to ornithology. This emphasis on systematic observation by amateurs reflects his distrust of authoritative pronouncements. The migration accounts also serve his argument: he notes that wagtails feed exclusively on insects, so their migration is “obviously due to the force of habit,” a phrase that quietly challenges more elaborate theories.

Resident and Migrant Pairs Test Theories

Dewar highlights pairs of similar species where one is a permanent resident and the other a migrant, such as the tawny eagle and steppe eagle, or the shikra and sparrow hawk. He reports that a captive steppe eagle died in hot weather while a tawny eagle in the same cage flourished, suggesting real physiological differences. These comparisons are not merely taxonomic; they serve to question why such similar birds have different migratory habits, a puzzle that Dewar leaves for the reader to consider. The excerpts do not reveal his full argument, but the pattern is clear: close observation reveals anomalies that simple theories cannot explain.

Dewar’s book rewards readers who attend to the specific dates, colors, and behaviors he records. The polemical preface may seem dated, but it clarifies why he describes birds the way he does. Rather than seeking a unified theory, the sketches invite you to notice what is there—and to question any explanation that claims too much. The incomplete excerpts leave many of his arguments unfinished, but they offer a clear method: look closely, record precisely, and think independently.

That rainy afternoon, Dewar’s precise plumage notes made me pause—not on the bird, but on the quiet pleasure of doubting what I’d been told. Later, I found myself reaching for A-Birding on a Bronco — Themes and Context, and it felt like continuing the same conversation, unhurried and odd. Some afternoons simply wander into others.