It would be a show-stopper, but for the camouflage.
A black cap ends in a burst of sunshine yellow, an ample white chest cloaked under a smooth grey-brown coat, black-tipped tail and lanky, yellow limbs. The yellow-wattled lapwing is as dandy a bird as they come. And one that is happy to parade for the female gaze.
"Seven or eight males will line-up, strut one behind another, calling out loudly and fake-feeding," says Dhiraj Bhaisare, who has been studying the breeding ecology of these grassland birds since 2010. Fake-feeding is when the bird pretends he/she can teach younger ones to feed, and demonstrate its ability as a worthy parent — a skill that can make all the difference in the yellow-wattled lapwing universe, for it often determines whether they end up as one-half of a pair or remains solo.
A male yellow-wattled lapwing then, is a charming specimen — not only is it good looking but also builds a nest and is a hands-on dad. According to the IUCN's Red List of Threatened Species, the population of the Vanellus malabaricus is a matter of 'least concern'; there are an estimated 3,300-6,700 mature individuals across the Indian subcontinent. And yet, despite their fairly healthy distribution, few have actually seen this bird. Even among the most avid birders, the yellow-wattled lapwing elicits little to no excitement. So why has Bhaisare been spending five months every year, sitting four hours under the summer sun to observe their behaviour in the parched grassland off Agumbe village in Karnataka? "Initially, it was just out of curiosity," says Bhaisare, who came across the ground nests of these birds in 2010. "They assemble their nests using soil substrate, pebbles and sometimes cow dung. Their nesting behaviour is specific and charming."
Architect-in-chief
Yellow-wattled lapwings thrive in scrub and dry grasslands, and are philopatric, i.e., they return to the same site to breed every year. "In Agumbe, they arrive in January every year," says Bhaisare, the research administrator at the Agumbe Rainforest Research Station (ARRS) in the central Western Ghats of Karnataka. "Pair formation involves a lot of courtship since these birds are sexually monomorphic. Displaying parenting skills during courtship is therefore key to finding a mate. Marching and fake feeding have been observed during courtship. Females often offer to mate after a male displays nest-building behaviour."
The 32-year-old says that a female yellow-wattled lapwing will sit down in front of a male as a signal to mate. "This behaviour may be due to the fact that paired females remain monogamous through the breeding season," he says. "A breeding pair may copulate twice a day on an average. The male will choose the site for and build the nest."
Over the years, Bhaisare has found and observed 116 nests over eight breeding seasons. A female typically lays four eggs in the first brood and both parents are involved in incubating. "Often the birds will soak their belly to keep the eggs and hatchlings cool during peak summer," says Bhaisare. "Hatching success depends on the threats the eggs and hatchlings face — from human disturbance, feral dogs and stray cats, as well as from predators — snakes, mangoose and birds of prey," he says. "When threatened, yellow-wattled lapwings may resort to 'dive-bombing' — when the bird comes down in a rapid swoop towards the predator but doesn't necessarily strike it. They do this to scare the dog or a snake away from the nest."
A fresh start
The newborns leave the nest within hours of emerging from the eggs. "They are nidifugous and start following their parents to forage for food," adds Bhaisare, who has ringed 71 lapwings — (adults and month-old fledglings) thus far. He and the interns assisting on the study have even named some of the ringed individuals who've regularly returned to a specific nest site. So there's Chhamiya, Nawab, Sam, Mr. X and Tina among the favourites.
While Nawab builds his nest in a secluded area of the grassland, the eggs that are from Mr X and Tina's clutch are reddish in colour as opposed to olive-white. "Apart from teaching the chicks to forage, both parents protect them from predators until they start to fly." For Bhaisare, this is an indication of the impending departure. "By the end of May, the chicks are able to fly," he says. "So although they are not migratory birds, they do fly away to new areas when the monsoon arrives, as the rain renders their camouflage ineffective." This year, he'll be bidding adieu to nine new birds, some of whom will likely return to Agumbe in January — in a dapper avatar, ready to parade.
