A Barbets Hollow

The White Cheeked Barbet of our Southern Indian hills and jungles is best
known for being heard but not spotted in spite of efforts. But in places where
trees are somewhat sparse , since this bird often has its favourite branches to
sit at and call from, it may be a well known acquaintance to you. It sits on a
lofty branch among the tallest trees in the neighborhood and repeats a
resonant kutroo.kutroo.kutroo for the larger part of a day. Periodically it
may take a break from its post to clear its throat or have a snack at a nearby
Ficus tree or a nectar drink from a bloomed forest flame tree. It is in no way a
timid or frail hearted creature; while foraging or on a flowering tree it will
often drive away a parakeet or a starling on the next branch by literally
jumping on it, and then it will examine how the nectar tastes in its rivals
flower. For a major part of its diet though the White cheek is a devout fruit
eater, but now and then one will see it pick off a mantis or a moth for protein
supplements. For a short description this bird had a peanut brown head and
throat with a distinctive teardrop shaped white patch on its cheek, unlike its
northern cousin the Brown headed Barbet which has a uniformly brown head
and is a trifle larger. Otherwise the rest of both their bodies is a lack-lustre
green and their bubble gum pink beaks are notable.

Recently I was at the Yugaantar conference at Bhoomi college, Bangalore

during when I spotted the nesting hollow of a pair of White Cheeks on a
Singapore Cherry Tree (Muntingia calabura) just adjacent to the main building
of the campus. Barbets make their nests by chiseling out cavities in tree trunks
with their brawny bills, like woodpeckers. They are known to use the same
hollow for several progenies over many years, only making some
readjustments and ameliorations. This nest was about eight feet from the
ground and hidden from direct view by over hanging branches. Over from the
side though, near a hedgerow some fifteen metres from the tree there was a
reasonable window of a gap through branches from where one could observe
the nest without making the parent birds highly apprehensive. So there I sat
partially hidden in the hedge to watch the nest habits of these barbets. My
respected colleagues who were at the conference as well were first petrified
when they spotted me squatting amidst the bushes but felt reassured when I
gestured towards the tree with my camera. From the squawking and
squabbling which emanated from the hollow I would say there were about
three chicks contained in it. Of them one of the fledglings, probably the eldest
or most grown one, would protrude its head out of the cavity and scrutinize

the new world around with wide eyes, leaving its siblings to chatter amongst
themselves. If a person walked past the tree the little barbet would keenly
follow his or her tracks unblinkingly; but the instant the persons gaze turned
in its direction it would submerged into the darkness of its tunnel nest,
returning to its look out only shortly after.
Both parents take efforts to feed their offspring, I can say so with certainty
because there would be occasions when two barbets would descend to the
tree trunk with food in their bills, although which of them, the male or the
female, did a larger part in seeking out food and feeding the young I couldnt
say. The chicks were brought a mix of berries and insects; Singapore cherries
plenty, Hill Neem fruits, several times a leaf insect and large black ants were
among what I observed the parent birds bring. At times the adult birds would
feed their chicks but one couldnt see them holding anything in their bill, so I
presumed that either regurgitations or very small insects were also part of the
fledglings diet.
However our curious little friend with its head outside the hollow
monopolized an extortionate amount of the food brought by its parents. Each
time a parent White Cheek flew to the hole with grub in mouth, this fledgling
would stop it right at the entrance and snatch at it ravenously, most often
grabbing the food for itself or forcing the parent to feed it by clasping its bill
sturdily over the parents. Now and then the adult will avoid the greedy pecks
of the dominant sibling and heeding to the hungry squawks of the rest of its
offspring will squeeze itself into the hole so that they atleast a few scraps.
Even so I should think that they are severely underfed while one of them gets
the exorbitant share, a phenomenon know too well that is part of growing up
in the wild.

April 2016