Peacocks Eye View of Things
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By :
Lenith Hinaloc
Submitted
2008-01-02 04:37:08 |
IT ALL began when I chipped my way through the eggshell and stumbled into the realm of birdlife. I stood there blinking in the tropical sunlight, bewildered. It was all so strange, everything was frightening. Instinctively, I knew mama. I snuggled into her, underneath her protective wing. There I was safe, I was loved. To me mama appeared so strong, so confident, it made me feel secure.
Thus I spent the first few days of my life. Though I did not realize it at the time, I was a male peachick, and I had two brother peachicks and two sister peahens. So we were an average family of peafowl, since there are generally four to six eggs in a nest of peachicks.
And speaking of nests, I noted that the nest where I came on the scene was a depression scraped in the ground in the midst of a dense clump of undergrowth located in a wild open rural area. It was lined with twigs, leaves and grass—very comfortable and well hidden from lurking enemies. By observation I later learned that mama must have laid her five glossy pale cream eggs here, each one about two and one half inches long. Solicitously she sat on them for twenty eight days until I broke upon the scene.
I understand that during my incubation an incident occurred that might well have resulted in my not being hatched at all. Our nest was located near fields of growing millet and barley, close to a small tributary of the river Jamuna. Nearby there was also a stretch of uncultivated land strewn with rocks and covered with wild grasses and jungle scrub. Dotted over the terrain were wild myrtle shrubs and acacia trees. It was late in the afternoon as the sun began its swift descent. All was still and very quiet.
Suddenly, a stealthy movement in the jungle scrub brought mama to full attention. With keen eyes penetrating the undergrowth, she spotted a wildcat on the prowl. She froze to the nest, as it were, while the hungry looking creature drew nearer. Mamas plumage merged with the background vegetation; she seemed invisible. The cat passed, stalking on toward the grainfields. Had mother been seen, it might well have been our end and hers, mother peahens refuse to abandon the nest even in the gravest danger.
Peacock Customs
We peachicks learn fast. We soon learned that mama was not the only mate that papa possessed. There were five of them! As a result, a peacock may father as many as twenty five peachicks in one year—a normal state of affairs when seen from the peacocks eye view of things.
Our family belongs to a small flock of peafowl living in a section of the Rajasthan desert of north India, not far from Jaipur. I have lots of aunts and uncles and, being gregarious by nature, we like flock together. Often a number of families will share the same tree for roosting. However, during the breeding season all my uncles wander off in search of mates themselves.
Peafowl are wide awake at the first light of dawn, but, rather than fly down to the ground immediately, we prefer to take our time, descending from limb to limb, shattering the morning silence with our loud cries that sound like may awe. Right away then we are interested in our breakfast cereals. Mama taught us chicks look for our favorite delicacies. Mainly we feed on grass and grains. We often spend entire days wreaking havoc in the grainfields. Because of our sacred status here, however, the village farmers endure our depredations with stoic fortitude. Fat, juicy insect steaks also figure on our menu, with here and there a tender lizard. Papa and mama even dine on small snakes! Probably not a relishing thought if you do not have the peacocks eye view of things.
When day is done, in the late afternoon, we have an early supper and then repair to our perches in the reverse procedure, slowly climbing the stairs until we reach a satisfactory roost. We get the reputation of making a lot of fuss and noise as we settle down for the night.
Peafowl Parents Share Responsibilities
Of my parents, papa was by far the most colorful personality. Mama, on the other hand, knew how to match colors too. She chose a dress that blended with her surroundings while tending her nest and eggs. Probably she was kept so busy making nests, laying eggs, hatching them and tending the young, that she felt a pretty leathered dress was impractical. Papa, who did not share in incubation duties, had more time to don his handsome feathered tail and strut around.
Nevertheless, I must admit, papa was a shrewd guide to his flock. Contrary to the appearances at times, he was always diligent in the watch for enemies—wildcats, eagles and men. His eyes and ears are so phenomenally sharp that it is rare that peafowl are caught. Of all the jungle populace, papa usually is the first to detect the approach of a leopard. At such times of danger, we do not often take to our wings, though we can fly fast and for long distances. Rather, we prefer to run swiftly along the ground.
Mention of enemies reminds me of something that happened when I was only six months old. Some of us peachicks were playing in the shade. One of the young males was making himself look ridiculous, trying to put on a premature courtship display. Ground squirrels scurried around and a little way off a lone blue jay was quietly perched in a margosa tree. In a nearby banyan tree a group of mynas were mimicking jungle sounds. A few peachicks were squabbling over a lizard that one of them had captured. Abruptly, papa emitted a piercing shriek that stopped us all in our tracks. Danger! We scattered in all directions. A soaring eagle appeared from nowhere, but thanks to papas watchful care, no harm resulted.
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