When Sat called late in August 2010 to invite me to Shahpura, to come and see the Lesser Floricans in that area, I had just cancelled a trip to Sonkhaliya the weekend before just for that purpose. The Monsoon this year had been strong with the rainfall measurements being reported in inches rather than in millimeters as in previous years. We had been hearing good reports from the Bhilwara area in Rajasthan (where both Shahpura and Sonkhaliya are located) that Florican display activity had been widespread. So, I promptly jumped at the opportunity, particularly since I had never seen this enigmatic bird of the Monsoon season.
Nahush and I set off on a Saturday afternoon, planning to reach Shahpura by evening to take in a late session of birdwatching. The next day we planned to explore the different areas there, try our luck also at Sonkhaliya, and return to Jaipur. As often happens, things did not quite turn out that way. As we drove past Nasirabad we discovered that some birding friends were already in Sonkhaliya and had seen no less than six Floricans displaying in the morning. Our pulses quickened as we decided to first recce these farmlands and scattered thorn forests and get our target bird firmly under the belt. Easier said than done. First, we failed to connect with our local Forest Department contact, Then, we discovered that our friends from Udaipur had already left the area. We did scour a cross-section of the habitat but without any luck.
Wisely we decided to press on to Shahpura, but torrential rain dogged us most of the way while negotiating a narrow pot-holed road in the dark. However, all of our disappointments of the day were quickly forgotten as Sat, and the rest of the Shahpura family made us welcome to their wonderful Boutique Heritage Hotel ( and Residence). Over some tall glasses of cold beer we made plans for the morrow. We resolved to start at first light. Sat had been observing and studying the Floricans for several years. We would also be joined by a local expert, Nur Mian, whose tracking skills and jungle craft were extolled to us by our hosts as the beer flowed. I knew we were in good hands. We retired to our luxurious rooms with a keen sense of anticipation. Even though thunder rumbled all night I knew rain would not keep us back in the morning.
Dawn was indeterminate as thick clouds obscured the eastern sky. A light drizzle had freshened the air. Mistakenly, I had assumed we would be hiking the periphery of the lakes that surround the property, but Sat was ready in his Jeep. We picked up Nur and headed out. Several miles away we finally left the main road and started following one of the village tracks. It was clear that Sat would have to rely on his off-road driving skills. For the record let me state that he did very well all along, even fording a long stretch of the backwaters of Nahar Sagar when the water alarmingly submerged the wheels of the Jeep. But it was on one of the earliest and most harmless looking sections on the village track that we came a cropper ! A quick sideways slide, the wheels spun, and as soon as the motor was gunned, mud shockingly splashed the rear-view mirror. And, onto Sat and the other person in the front seat – me! As it happened the mud was full of buffalo excreta and it was reeking. But we digress here, so lets get to the birdwatching…
As we drove towards the first stake-out point where Floricans had been observed all season, one of the first sounds from the edges of the agricultural fields was that of the Painted Francolin. We left the Jeep and set off on foot. There were also Charagahs (grazing grounds) here and scattered scrub. Suddenly, Sat called a halt with an excited whisper. They had heard the call of a Florican. We stopped to listen, hearts pounding…. Nothing.
As the light became stronger, there were many unfamiliar bird calls all around. Soon we were able to locate and observe the first of our ‘new’ birds, a Quail calling ‘quip ... quip’ from the lee of a bush. The territorial challenge was being answered by a rival on a raised sand mound a short distance away. The Rain Quail. Unmistakable with their black breasts and dark frontal streaking. In the vicinity, an Indian Bushlark was sailing into the air and then parachuting down with his wings held in a distinct V showing much more rufous than on the ground. He then perched on a bush and regaled us with his Lark’s song. It was exquisite. We looked at each other in astonishment as whistles, snatches of song, mimicry of the Prinia close by, and a fabulous assortment of sounds poured forth from this songster extraordinaire.
Meanwhile Nur was tracking far and wide, and in the absence of any alerts from him it was clear that the Floricans were lying in and would be difficult to locate. In any case we did not wish to disturb their breeding habitat. We were happy to sharpen our Quail identification skills instead. These shy Game Birds allowed us good long views if we remained in the Jeep. We were able to notch up the Common Quail. Larks were plentiful. Short-toed Larks were reluctant to being disturbed from their feeding on the bare ground. And Ashy-crowned Sparrow-Larks, yo-yoed in the air while giving vent to their flight call. A solitary Paddyfield Pipit caused momentary confusion but his longer tail was diagnostic from the Larks (though, to be perfectly honest I still can’t tell the difference from a Tawny Pipit in the field at different times of the year).
We decided to check on another area where the Floricans had been observed. As we drove past an open grassy area, another species of Quail attracted our attention. These were not the Barred Button-Quail (which are relatively common) but were identified as the Rock-Bush Quail. While our attention was centered here, Nur motioned us over a short distance away. He pointed to a dry tree over 200 yards away and said that was where the Painted Francolin was calling from and that he could see it on the central branch. Many of us birders pride ourselves on our spotting skills, but unless you picked it out with your Binoculars, it was just too small and indistinct to the naked eye. Phew ! ‘Eagle Eye Nur’ !
We drove on towards Nahar Sagar, one of the larger lakes in this area. In fact, the surrounding countryside is dotted with numerous lakes and jheels. A few are quite large and stretch for kilometers in length. There is extensive cultivation of the coarse grains and pulses in the monsoon. Life is unhurried and the rural countryside sylvan and contented. We drove past a village and round a sharp bend in the track came upon village maidens bathing at the well. There was no attempt by them to cover their modesty as we drove past.
We traversed the backwaters of Nahar Sagar observing European Rollers perched on wires. Surprisingly the main body of the lake is quite bereft of birds. Only a few Eurasian Spotbills and a pair of Painted Storks high overhead. We stopped for a while at a check-dam watching children splashing about in the water. All at once there was a loud and unfamiliar clamour behind us. A feral dog was being shooed away by a pair of large birds with their wings upraised threateningly. Fantastic, another new bird for me – the Great Thick-Knee. The dog was indeed driven off and soon one of the birds settled down on the rocky / sandy ground. The mate stood around attentively. Obviously the female was sitting on the eggs. But wait a minute, there were another couple of birds just a short distance away next to a bush in the undulating terrain by the waters edge. Incredibly these were Eurasian Thick-Knee. We enjoyed extended scope views and savoured this rare sight. A solitary wader piped into view, the Common Sandpiper.
As the morning grew hotter we drove on to Sur Sagar. Nur says this is excellent Sandgrouse country. Nahush spotted a Monitor Lizard several yards away – only the half-raised yet motionless head and neck visible. Amongst the usual assortment of scrub habitat birds we picked up some other good ones – the Oriental Skylark and the Rufous-tailed Lark. Also a few Yellow-wattled Lapwings. We approached the lake and climbed the gravelly embankment (the round pebbles on hard mud make for a great surface to skate down if you can keep your balance!) and surveyed the water. There was extensive reed growth and then grassland towards the shallow banks. A Stork in the distance on the ground was soon joined by another five spiraling down from the sky. Open-billed Storks. They had lost their breeding plumage and were returning to their usual grayish/black colours.
As I scanned the far bank where some cattle were enjoying the fresh grass I picked out some unfamiliar birds in the open. With mounting excitement I realised these were Indian Coursers. Another top bird and target for this trip for me. We grabbed the scopes and raced closer, our hurried approach partly masked by the cows. The Coursers were wary and kept moving further away. But when we stopped and started observing them they resumed their feeding in the grass. There were at least 10 individuals and it appeared some were juveniles. The Guidebooks do not do justice to their colours. The chestnuts, the blacks and whites contrast superbly. A wonderful sighting to end the morning’s birding.
Back in Shahpura Bagh we were treated to an excellent lunch by the family. We spent some time strolling through the extensive grounds and trying to identify the magnificent trees (some of the Mahuwa and Baheda were at least 80 years old). Butterflies were plentiful. Reluctantly we had to be on our way back to Jaipur…
Nahush and I set off on a Saturday afternoon, planning to reach Shahpura by evening to take in a late session of birdwatching. The next day we planned to explore the different areas there, try our luck also at Sonkhaliya, and return to Jaipur. As often happens, things did not quite turn out that way. As we drove past Nasirabad we discovered that some birding friends were already in Sonkhaliya and had seen no less than six Floricans displaying in the morning. Our pulses quickened as we decided to first recce these farmlands and scattered thorn forests and get our target bird firmly under the belt. Easier said than done. First, we failed to connect with our local Forest Department contact, Then, we discovered that our friends from Udaipur had already left the area. We did scour a cross-section of the habitat but without any luck.
Wisely we decided to press on to Shahpura, but torrential rain dogged us most of the way while negotiating a narrow pot-holed road in the dark. However, all of our disappointments of the day were quickly forgotten as Sat, and the rest of the Shahpura family made us welcome to their wonderful Boutique Heritage Hotel ( and Residence). Over some tall glasses of cold beer we made plans for the morrow. We resolved to start at first light. Sat had been observing and studying the Floricans for several years. We would also be joined by a local expert, Nur Mian, whose tracking skills and jungle craft were extolled to us by our hosts as the beer flowed. I knew we were in good hands. We retired to our luxurious rooms with a keen sense of anticipation. Even though thunder rumbled all night I knew rain would not keep us back in the morning.
Dawn was indeterminate as thick clouds obscured the eastern sky. A light drizzle had freshened the air. Mistakenly, I had assumed we would be hiking the periphery of the lakes that surround the property, but Sat was ready in his Jeep. We picked up Nur and headed out. Several miles away we finally left the main road and started following one of the village tracks. It was clear that Sat would have to rely on his off-road driving skills. For the record let me state that he did very well all along, even fording a long stretch of the backwaters of Nahar Sagar when the water alarmingly submerged the wheels of the Jeep. But it was on one of the earliest and most harmless looking sections on the village track that we came a cropper ! A quick sideways slide, the wheels spun, and as soon as the motor was gunned, mud shockingly splashed the rear-view mirror. And, onto Sat and the other person in the front seat – me! As it happened the mud was full of buffalo excreta and it was reeking. But we digress here, so lets get to the birdwatching…
As we drove towards the first stake-out point where Floricans had been observed all season, one of the first sounds from the edges of the agricultural fields was that of the Painted Francolin. We left the Jeep and set off on foot. There were also Charagahs (grazing grounds) here and scattered scrub. Suddenly, Sat called a halt with an excited whisper. They had heard the call of a Florican. We stopped to listen, hearts pounding…. Nothing.
As the light became stronger, there were many unfamiliar bird calls all around. Soon we were able to locate and observe the first of our ‘new’ birds, a Quail calling ‘quip ... quip’ from the lee of a bush. The territorial challenge was being answered by a rival on a raised sand mound a short distance away. The Rain Quail. Unmistakable with their black breasts and dark frontal streaking. In the vicinity, an Indian Bushlark was sailing into the air and then parachuting down with his wings held in a distinct V showing much more rufous than on the ground. He then perched on a bush and regaled us with his Lark’s song. It was exquisite. We looked at each other in astonishment as whistles, snatches of song, mimicry of the Prinia close by, and a fabulous assortment of sounds poured forth from this songster extraordinaire.
Meanwhile Nur was tracking far and wide, and in the absence of any alerts from him it was clear that the Floricans were lying in and would be difficult to locate. In any case we did not wish to disturb their breeding habitat. We were happy to sharpen our Quail identification skills instead. These shy Game Birds allowed us good long views if we remained in the Jeep. We were able to notch up the Common Quail. Larks were plentiful. Short-toed Larks were reluctant to being disturbed from their feeding on the bare ground. And Ashy-crowned Sparrow-Larks, yo-yoed in the air while giving vent to their flight call. A solitary Paddyfield Pipit caused momentary confusion but his longer tail was diagnostic from the Larks (though, to be perfectly honest I still can’t tell the difference from a Tawny Pipit in the field at different times of the year).
We decided to check on another area where the Floricans had been observed. As we drove past an open grassy area, another species of Quail attracted our attention. These were not the Barred Button-Quail (which are relatively common) but were identified as the Rock-Bush Quail. While our attention was centered here, Nur motioned us over a short distance away. He pointed to a dry tree over 200 yards away and said that was where the Painted Francolin was calling from and that he could see it on the central branch. Many of us birders pride ourselves on our spotting skills, but unless you picked it out with your Binoculars, it was just too small and indistinct to the naked eye. Phew ! ‘Eagle Eye Nur’ !
We drove on towards Nahar Sagar, one of the larger lakes in this area. In fact, the surrounding countryside is dotted with numerous lakes and jheels. A few are quite large and stretch for kilometers in length. There is extensive cultivation of the coarse grains and pulses in the monsoon. Life is unhurried and the rural countryside sylvan and contented. We drove past a village and round a sharp bend in the track came upon village maidens bathing at the well. There was no attempt by them to cover their modesty as we drove past.
We traversed the backwaters of Nahar Sagar observing European Rollers perched on wires. Surprisingly the main body of the lake is quite bereft of birds. Only a few Eurasian Spotbills and a pair of Painted Storks high overhead. We stopped for a while at a check-dam watching children splashing about in the water. All at once there was a loud and unfamiliar clamour behind us. A feral dog was being shooed away by a pair of large birds with their wings upraised threateningly. Fantastic, another new bird for me – the Great Thick-Knee. The dog was indeed driven off and soon one of the birds settled down on the rocky / sandy ground. The mate stood around attentively. Obviously the female was sitting on the eggs. But wait a minute, there were another couple of birds just a short distance away next to a bush in the undulating terrain by the waters edge. Incredibly these were Eurasian Thick-Knee. We enjoyed extended scope views and savoured this rare sight. A solitary wader piped into view, the Common Sandpiper.
As the morning grew hotter we drove on to Sur Sagar. Nur says this is excellent Sandgrouse country. Nahush spotted a Monitor Lizard several yards away – only the half-raised yet motionless head and neck visible. Amongst the usual assortment of scrub habitat birds we picked up some other good ones – the Oriental Skylark and the Rufous-tailed Lark. Also a few Yellow-wattled Lapwings. We approached the lake and climbed the gravelly embankment (the round pebbles on hard mud make for a great surface to skate down if you can keep your balance!) and surveyed the water. There was extensive reed growth and then grassland towards the shallow banks. A Stork in the distance on the ground was soon joined by another five spiraling down from the sky. Open-billed Storks. They had lost their breeding plumage and were returning to their usual grayish/black colours.
As I scanned the far bank where some cattle were enjoying the fresh grass I picked out some unfamiliar birds in the open. With mounting excitement I realised these were Indian Coursers. Another top bird and target for this trip for me. We grabbed the scopes and raced closer, our hurried approach partly masked by the cows. The Coursers were wary and kept moving further away. But when we stopped and started observing them they resumed their feeding in the grass. There were at least 10 individuals and it appeared some were juveniles. The Guidebooks do not do justice to their colours. The chestnuts, the blacks and whites contrast superbly. A wonderful sighting to end the morning’s birding.
Back in Shahpura Bagh we were treated to an excellent lunch by the family. We spent some time strolling through the extensive grounds and trying to identify the magnificent trees (some of the Mahuwa and Baheda were at least 80 years old). Butterflies were plentiful. Reluctantly we had to be on our way back to Jaipur…
