“I
had the opportunity to travel from October to November this year, to
Nagaland –
one of the seven-sister states in North East India. The other states are
Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, and Tripura. They form
part of the East Himalayan region, which extends from Sikkim eastwards and
embraces the Darjeeling Hills of West Bengal. The location of the region is
strategically important as it has international borders with Bangladesh, Bhutan,
China and Myanmar. The area is characterised by rich bio-diversity, heavy
precipitation and high seismic activity. It is endowed with forest wealth and is
ideally suited to produce a whole range of plantation crops, spices, fruits and
vegetables and flowers and herbs. The rich natural beauty, serenity and exotic
flora and fauna of the area are invaluable resources for the development of
eco-tourism.
“Unfortunately, this story is about the indiscriminate killing of the Red-legged
or Amur Falcon (Falco amurensis). It is one of the most elegant, beautiful,
dignified-looking birds I have ever seen. According to Salim Ali’s Book of
Indian Birds, the Amur Falcon is a passage migrant in North and North East
India, appearing once a year from mid-October to mid-December, presumably on
autumn passage to East and South Africa.
“The
size is comparable to a pigeon. The male is slate-grey above, ash grey below but
for rusty red-vent thighs and under-tail coverts (left, top); distinct orbital
area, cere and legs. Females are entirely different: slaty grey barred with
black; hindneck with whitish nuchal collar. Pale rusty white below, spotted with
black on upper breast, bars on lower breast and flanks. I thought they were two
different species of falcon. [The juvenile is as shown in left, bottom.]
“They
are often recorded in immense numbers in flocks often milling around at sunset
before roosting on trees. Salim Ali writes, “they are said to be eaten in Cachar
and East Africa”. I found out first-hand that they are also eaten in Nagaland.
“I saw them flying in circles high above in the sky, and strung on high
electrical cables in the Doyang Dam area in the Wokha district. The Doyang
Hydroelectric project produces a significant amount of power to the central
districts of Nagaland.
“The two specimens that I photographed were captive, awaiting their fate, kept
in a traditional “machang” or viewing pavilion next to the village pastor’s
house. I asked the local hosts about these birds, and was told that there were
seasonal migratory birds. They would come by the tens of thousands every year,
for a few months, and then disappear. However, during these months, the local
people would catch them with nets after observing their flight paths. Some
people I spoke to said that other people would give them live birds by the
hundreds as gifts for food. One family said they tried letting the birds go
free, but they would return to their cages for food. To avoid them being caught
again, this family transported the birds to a remote area to be freed. In
another home, I saw the distinctive white and black streaked feathers strewn on
the ground near where food is prepared in the compound.
Above left is a juvenile Amur Falcon all
tied up to be subsequently eaten, same as
with the squirrels on the right.
“There is no shortage of food in Nagaland – they
are farmers by tradition, growing padi, potatoes, yam, fruit and vegetables on
the hilly slopes, and rearing domesticated animals for meat. It seems that the
tribal tradition of capturing wildlife for food remains an active past-time
among some segments of the population up till today. I fear for the survival of
the Amur Falcon and other wildlife, if they are still being hunted down
indiscriminately for sport and recreation. I have spoken to Naga people who are
my friends about conservation and wildlife protection. I pleaded with the
youngster who had captured the two birds in these photos, to let them go. He
politely gave me his word that he would do so. However, I fear that not enough
is being done to change the traditional forms of “enjoying” wildlife in these
parts. There is one unmistakable observation in Nagaland – in the rural parts
that I visited: the absence of any bird life. The flowering plants and trees are
there, the forest edge is usually not far away, yet early mornings and evenings
are not filled with birdsong and colors. When I do see them, I fear for their
safety and freedom.”
End
Contributed by Joyce S Y Tan
23rd November 2009
The story originally appears in the Bird Ecology Study Group (Singapore)
website
here. Permission to reproduce the
article here granted by author.
Link:
Nagaland and birding in Nagaland
