The nesting season of the tawny eagle or wokab (_Aquila vindhiana_) begins in November. The nest is a typical raptorial one, being a large platform of sticks. It may attain a length of three feet and it is usually as broad as it is long; it is about six inches in depth. It is generally lined with leaves, sometimes with straw or grass and a few feathers. It is placed at the summit of a tree. Two eggs are usually laid. These are dirty white, more or less speckled with brown. The young ones are at first covered with white down; in this respect they resemble baby birds of prey of other species. The man who attempts to take the eggs or young of this eagle must be prepared to ward off the attack of the female, who, as is usual among birds of prey, is larger, bolder and more powerful than the male. At Lahore the writer saw a tawny eagle stoop at a man who had climbed a tree and secured the eagle's eggs. She seized his turban and flew off with it, having inflicted a scratch on his head. For the recovery of his turban the egg-lifter had to thank a pair of kites that attacked the eagle and caused her to drop that article while defending herself from their onslaught. DECEMBER Striped squirrels raced; the mynas perked and pricked, The seven sisters chattered in the thorn, The pied fish-tiger hung above the pool, The egrets stalked among the buffaloes, The kites sailed circles in the golden air; About the painted temple peacocks flew. ARNOLD, _The Light of Asia_. In the eyes of the Englishman December in Northern India is a month of halcyon days, of days dedicated to sport under perfect climatic conditions, of bright sparkling days spent at the duck tank, at the snipe _jhil_, in the _sal_ forest, or among the Siwaliks, days on which office files rest in peace, and the gun, the rifle and the rod are made to justify their existence. Most Indians, unfortunately, hold a different opinion of December. These love not the cool wind that sweeps across the plains. To them the rapid fall of temperature at sunset is apt to spell pneumonia. The average villager is a hot-weather organism. He is content with thin cotton clothing which he wears year in year out, whether the mercury in the thermometer stand at 115 degrees or 32 degrees. However, many of the better-educated Indians have learned from Englishmen how to protect themselves against cold; we may therefore look forward to the time when even the poorest Indian will be able to enjoy the health-bringing, bracing climate of the present month. By the 1st December the last of the spring crops has been sown, most of the cotton has been picked, and the husbandmen are busy cutting and pressing the sugar-cane and irrigating the poppy and the _rabi_ cereals.