From early dawn till nightfall the welkin rings with the harsh caw of the house-crow, the deeper note of the black crow or corby, the tinkling music of the bulbuls, the cheery _keky_, _keky_, _kek_, _kek_ ... _chur_, _chur_, _kok_, _kok_, _kok_ of the myna, the monotonous _cuckoo-coo-coo_ of the spotted dove (_Turtur suratensis_), the soft subdued _cuk-cuk-coo-coo-coo_ of the little brown dove (_T. cambayensis_), the mechanical _ku-ku--ku_ of the ring-dove (_T. risorius_), the loud penetrating shrieks of the green parrot, the trumpet-like calls of the saras crane, the high-pitched _did-he-do-it_ of the red-wattled lapwing, the wailing trill _chee-hee-hee-hee_ _hee--hee_ of the kite, the hard grating notes and the metallic _coch-lee_, _coch-lee_ of the tree-pie; the sharp _towee_, _towee_, _towee_ of the tailor-bird, the soft melodious cheeping calls of the flocks of little white-eyes, the _chit_, _chit_, _chitter_ of the sparrow, the screaming cries of the golden-backed woodpecker, the screams and the trills of the white-breasted kingfisher, the curious harsh clamour of the cuckoo-shrike, and, last but by no means least, the sweet and cheerful whistling refrain of the fan-tail flycatcher, which at frequent intervals emanates from a tree in the garden or the mango tope. Nor is the bird choir altogether hushed during the hours of darkness. Throughout the year, more especially on moonlit nights, the shrieking _kucha_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_, _kwachee_ of the little spotted owlet disturbs the silences of the moon. Few nights pass on which the dusky horned owl fails to utter his grunting hoot, or the jungle owlet to emit his curious but not unpleasant _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _turtuck_, _tukatu_, _chatuckatuckatuck_. The above are the commonest of the bird calls heard throughout the year. They form the basis of the avian melody in India. This melody is reinforced from time to time by the songs of those birds that may be termed the seasonal choristers. It is the presence or absence of the voices of these latter which imparts distinctive features to the minstrelsy of every month of the year. In January the sprightly little metallic purple sunbird pours forth, from almost every tree or bush, his powerful song, which, were it a little less sharp, might easily be mistaken for that of a canary. From every mango tope emanates a loud "Think of me ... Never to be." This is the call of the grey-headed flycatcher (_Culicicapa ceylonensis_), a bird that visits the plains of northern India every winter. In summer it retires to the Himalayas for nesting purposes. Still more melodious is the call of the wood-shrike, which is frequently heard at this season, and indeed during the greater part of the year.