This bird is about seven inches in length. Thus it does not measure much more than a sparrow, but it is nevertheless considerably larger, for the tail is very short, being barely one inch and a half in length. The crown is yellow, tinged with orange, and divided in the middle by a broad black band running from the beak to the nape of the neck, where it meets a broader black band that passes below the eye. The eyebrow is white. The back and shoulders are dull bluish green. The upper tail-coverts are pale blue. There is also a patch of this colour on the wing. The wings and tail are black, tipped with blue. During flight the pinions display a white bar. The chin and throat are white. The breast is of the same yellow hue as the head. There is a large crimson patch under the tail. Captain Fayrer’s photograph in Bombay Ducks conveys very well the shape of the bird, but, of course, does not reproduce the most marked feature of the pitta—its colouring. Indians in some localities call it the naurang—the nine-colours. The bird may truly be said to be arrayed in a coat of many colours. Unfortunately, such a garment is apt to lead to trouble. Even as the coat of many colours brought tribulation upon Joseph of old, so does the much-coveted, multi-hued plumage of the pitta frequently bring death to its possessor.

Apart from the colouring, it is impossible to confound the pitta with any other bird. Its long legs and its apology for a tail recall the sandpiper, but there is nothing else snippet-like about it. The classification of the bird has puzzled many a wise head. It has been variously called the Madras jay, the Bengal quail, the short-tailed pye, the ant-thrush, the painted thrush, and the ground thrush. But it is not a jay, neither is it a quail, nor a thrush, nor a tailless pye. It is a bird made on a special model. It belongs to a peculiar family, to a branch of the great order of perching birds, which differs from all the other clans in some important anatomical details. Into these we will not go, for they belong to morphology, the science which concerns itself chiefly with the dry bones of zoology, with the lifeless aspect of the science of life.

The Indian pitta is a bird which likes warmth, but not heat, so that it refuses to live in the Punjab, where the climate is one of extremes—a spell of cold, then a headlong rush into a period of intense heat, followed by an equally sudden return to a low temperature. The pitta seems to occur in all parts of Eastern, Central, and Southern India, undergoing local migration to the south in the autumn and back again in the spring. In places where the climate is never very hot or very cold, as, for example, Madras and the hills in Ceylon, some individuals seem to remain throughout the year. I have seen pittas in Madras at all seasons, and I know of no better testimonial to the excellence of the climate of that city. Jerdon writes of the pitta: “In the Carnatic it chiefly occurs in the beginning of the hot weather, when the land-winds first begin to blow with violence from the west; and the birds in many instances appear to have been blown, by the strong wind, from the Eastern Ghauts, for, being birds of feeble flight, they are unable to contend against the strength of the wind. At this time they take refuge in huts, outhouses, or any building that will afford them shelter. The first bird of this kind that I saw had taken refuge in the General Hospital at Madras; and subsequently, at Nellore, I obtained many alive under the same circumstances.” Other observers have had similar experiences. Bligh, for instance, states that in Ceylon pittas are frequently caught in bungalows on coffee estates on cold and stormy days.

It is strange that so retiring a bird as the pitta should find its way with such frequency into inhabited houses. Jerdon’s explanation is its “feeble flight,” but I doubt whether he is correct in calling the pitta a bird of weak flight; it can travel very fast, for short distances at any rate. It seems to me that the pitta dislikes cold and wind, and therefore naturally seeks any shelter that presents itself. Not being a garden bird, it is unaware that the bungalow, which offers such tempting cover, is the abode of human beings. Possibly another reason why the pitta so frequently enters bungalows is to avoid the crows. Dr. Henderson tells me that he was playing tennis some years ago at a friend’s house in Madras when he saw a bird being chased by a mob of crows. The fugitive took refuge in the drawing-room of the house, where Dr. Henderson caught it, and found that it was an uninjured but very much frightened pitta. Mr. D. G. Hatchell informs me that he once picked up in his verandah a dead pitta that had probably been killed by crows. The corvi are out-and-out Tories. They strongly resent all innovation qua innovation. Any addition to the local fauna is exceedingly distasteful to them. They object to the foreigner quite as strongly as do (perhaps I should say “did”) the Chinese. It is for this reason that they mob every strange bird that shows its face. Now, they seldom come across either the creatures of the night or the denizens of the thick undergrowth; consequently, when such venture forth into the light of day the crows forthwith attack them.

The pitta feeds chiefly on beetles, termites, ants, and other creeping things, which it seeks out among fallen leaves, after the manner of the “seven sisters.” The pitta is quick on its feet, and is able to hop and run with equal ease. It thrives in captivity. It is an excellent pet, provided it be not kept with smaller birds. It regards these as so much fresh meat especially provided for it.

The nest of the pitta is described as a globular structure fully nine inches in horizontal diameter and six inches high, with a circular aperture on one side. Twigs, roots, and dried leaves are the building materials utilised. The eggs are exceedingly beautiful. “The ground colour,” writes Hume, “is China white, sometimes faintly tinged with pink, sometimes creamy; and the eggs are speckled and spotted with deep maroon, dark purple, and brownish purple as primary markings, and pale inky purple as secondary ones. Occasionally, instead of spots, the markings take the form of fine hair-like lines.”