The cock rose-finch, or Tuti, as he is always called by the natives of India, is a handsome bird. The head and neck are dull crimson, the lower parts are rosy pink and the wings are brown. The rose-finches seen in the early part of the winter are considerably less brightly coloured than those observed after Christmas. This phenomenon is due to two causes. The one is that the bird moults in September or October and dons a new suit of clothes. These are of such excellent material that they improve by wearing! As is so often the case, the margins of the new feathers are duller than the inner portion. A bird’s feathers overlap like the tiles on a roof, and they overlap to such an extent that only the margin of each feather shows. As the dull edges wear away, the brighter parts begin to show, hence the gradual transition from dullness to brightness. Further, the actual colouring of the feathers becomes intensified as the spring season approaches. But in the plains of India the cock is never seen in the full glory of his crimson tunic, because he departs to high altitudes at the breeding season.
The hen rose-finch is an olive-brown bird with a tinge of yellow and some brown streaks in her plumage. The wing is set off by a couple of whitish wing-bars. There are also bars in the wing of the cock, but these are not well defined.
Seeing how beautiful the cock rose-finch is naturally, and how successful have been the efforts to improve the canary, it may seem strange that fanciers have not turned their attention to the rose-finch, and produced, by artificial selection, a rose-finch arrayed from head to tail in crimson lake.
The fact is all the crimson colour disappears from the plumage of a rose-finch kept in captivity. Until some means of preventing this is discovered it is hopeless to attempt to breed a crimson finch.
Rose-finches live in flocks, which consist usually of from sixteen to thirty members. These flocks appear to be made up of cocks and hens in equal numbers. The birds feed on the ground, from which they pick small seeds that have fallen. “In the extreme south,” writes Jerdon of the rose-finch, “I have chiefly seen it in bamboo jungle, feeding on the seeds of bamboos on several occasions, and so much is this its habit that the Telugu name signifies ‘Bamboo sparrow.’” In other parts of the country it frequents alike groves, gardens, and jungles, feeding on various seeds and grain; also not infrequently on flower buds and young leaves. Adams states that in Kashmir it feeds much on the seeds of a cultivated vetch.
During the greater part of the year the rose-finch is a silent bird. At the breeding season, and a little before it, the cock joins in the bird chorus. Its vocal efforts are well described by Blyth as “a feeble twittering song, but soft and pleasing, being intermediate to that of the goldfinch, and that of the small redpole linnet, the call note much resembling that of a canary bird.”
Rose-finches are said to be very pugnacious, and in this respect they resemble their vulgar relations the sparrows, but they differ from the latter in lacking their fearlessness of man or beast. At the least alarm a flock of rose-finches feeding on the ground scurries into the nearest tree with a loud fluttering of wings. The harsh cry of the king-crow or the shadow of a passing kite is quite sufficient to cause the instant disappearance of the little flock into the foliage.
On an average, a feeding flock thus takes alarm at least twenty times in the course of an hour. Sometimes the birds take fright for no apparent reason whatever. Their behaviour in this respect is exactly like that of chaffinches, greenfinches, etc., in England, which Edmund Selous describes so accurately in that perfect nature book Bird Watching. Selous “came to the conclusion that the cause of flight was almost always a nervous apprehension, such as actuates schoolboys when they are doing something of a forbidden nature and half expect to see the master appear at any moment round the corner. Though there might be no discernible ground for apprehension, yet after some three or four minutes it seemed to strike the assembly that it could not be quite safe to remain any longer, and, presto! they were gone.”
It is my belief that what may be called the undue nervousness of little birds has been caused by the attacks of birds of prey. It must as a rule be the bolder spirits—those that refuse to take refuge in the foliage at every alarm—that fall victims to the sparrow-hawk. The more nervous ones escape and transmit their innate nervousness to their offspring. There has thus arisen a race of little birds as nervous as horses.
Before a minute has passed the rose-finches, who have taken refuge in a tree, perceive that there was no ground for alarm. They then drop to the ground in twos and threes, so that, although the birds begin to return almost as soon as they have fled into the foliage, some little time elapses before the whole of the flock is again seeking food on the ground. The reformation of a flock is a pretty sight—a shower of little birds falling from a tree like leaves in autumn.