I have kept several mynas in my lifetime. One of these was a male Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis) that I rescued from the cat as it landed on the ground during his maiden flight. This bird accompanied me almost everyday afternoons and evenings when I patrolled the condo looking for some animal or insect to observe.

At a very young age (it was still begging for food), the bird enjoyed a good bath, splashing water with its wings. That was when I placed him in the sink together with the ice cream box in which it was kept, and slowly ran the tap, intending to wash the tub and at the same time give the bird his first bath. But before I could do anything, he instinctively reacted to the water flowing beneath his feet. He dunked his chest in the water and splattered water all over the toilet. So much for bathing 101, this candidate was earmarked for direct PhD in bathing. Eventually I even placed him in a tub of water that was so deep that only his head was above the water level. The lure of a good bath never stopped him. But he was very cautious with water levels more than 3 inches deep.

We used to patrol the greenery around the condo together for his evening snacks. Anything I chased out from the grass, he would grab and eat it. Whenever there were other mynas around he would start a fight. With my help he would invariably win. One evening, he happened to walk over an ant mound. Initially intrigued by the ants, he later found them to be foul tasting and started to attack them. The ants responded by mobbing him and crawling all over his feathers. I had seen many young birds killed by ants and was a little concerned by the increasing number of ants crawling onto him. But as much as I tried to discourage him from mucking around with the ants, he kept at it, to stupidly stand right on top of the mound. His behaviour took me by surprise. Intermittent between his initial actions of attacking the ants, he suddenly prostrated himself on the ground, spread his wings and puffed up his plumage. I had thought that he had a few ant bites too many and was getting injured. But he appeared absolutely fine. So I stood by and observed for a while. After about two minutes of intense ‘anting’ he suddenly moved away from the ant mound and preened itself to get rid of the ants. All of a sudden his intense interest with the ant mound vanished and we were back looking for tasty afternoon snacks.

After that he would regular ‘ant’ itself once a week or less, probably because I gave him a daily bath.

The fact that this bird had never observed another ‘anting’ but seemed to know what to do with ants points in the fact that this behaviour seems to be innate, although wild birds seem to do it more professionally. My little ‘Sidewinder’, as I called him, apparently had some ideas of what ‘anting’ was all about, hard coded in his brain.

NOTE: Accounts of anting posted between October 2005 and August 2008 have now been written up and published in the 2008 issue of the on-line journal, Nature in Singapore (Vol. 1, pp. 23-25). A PDF file of Anting in Singapore birds is available HERE.

Because of the outbreaks of avian flu around the region, everyone is nervous when encountering a dead bird. Thus when John Lynn’s daughter saw a dead bird in her garden, she was naturally nervous and called her father at work.

Lying in what John described as his “bird friendly” garden was the carcass of a bird with its feathers scattered around. Its guts were missing. It must have been quite a sight to witness a bird butchered thus. The father pacified the daughter explaining that it must have been a “hawk kill” and not to worry about it.

A few moments later she again phoned John, this time in panic. Apparently the hunter had returned to finish off its prey. Sensing the unfolding of an exciting drama, he again pacified her and told her to get hold of the camera and record the event. This she did. The bird was very protective of its prey, spreading out its wings in anger when she got too near. It took an entire hour for the bird to finish off its prey, leaving nothing except feathers.

Although the jury is still out, the general agreement is that the bird is an accipitrid, either a juvenile Japanese Sparrowhawk (Accipiter gularis) or a Besra (A. virgatus), the latter being a rare migrant to Singapore.

These birds usually hunt small passerines, relying on the element of surprise to catch their preys. The bird may wait, hidden in a tree, to suddenly dart forth at a passing bird. It kills its prey mostly using its feet and talons.

Image by John Lynn.

Many species of birds exhibit ‘mobbing’ tendencies, especially when they find predator birds resting alone or in small groups. Even those that are predominantly scavengers or fish-eaters are similarly mobbed. Such harassing behaviour is aimed at driving the predators off and in most cases they succeed. Mobbing is more pronounced if there is nesting involved, especially if eggs or young are present.

It is a common sight around Singapore to watch House Crows (Corvus splendens) flying after and driving off resident and migratory raptors of any species. I have personally seen Black-shouldered Kite (Elanus caeruleus), Brahminy Kite (Haliastur indus), White-bellied Fish-Eagle (Haliaeetus leucogaster), Oriental Honey-Buzzard (Pernis ptilorhyncus), Changeable Hawk-eagle (Spizaetus cirrhatus) and many other species being mobbed. House Crows do this individually or in a group, within and above their territories. Dr Wu Eu Heng has also reported seeing House Crows mobbing a Changeable Hawk-eagle around Jurong. Other bird species such as Black-naped Oriole (Oriolus chinensis) and Dollarbird (Eurystomus orientalis) also mob raptors in flight.

At many nature areas, particularly wooded areas, you often come across a party of highly agitated birds noisily moving around a tree or bush. Usually, this indicates the presence of a predator. In most cases this would either be an owl or a snake and the birds will both mob and scold in an aggressive manner. Greater Racket-tailed Drongo (Dicrurus paradisus) and Striped Tit-babblers (Macronus gularis) are often involved in such behaviour in the local forests.

Mobbing birds may comprise one or more species. It is a great opportunity to not only observe the irritated flock but to discover an usually illusive predator. I have seen some great snakes and owls in this manner. For example, the first Barred Eagle Owl (Bubo sumatranus) that I encountered in Malaysia was one that was being mobbed by a few bird species, including the Asian Fairy-Bluebird (Irena puella).

I am sure many birders would have encountered instances of mobbing and we would love to read about some of their accounts.

The Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus) is a rather interesting bird despite it being an exotic species. But we must all agree that there is still a lot that we do not know of this bird, however frequent it is sighted. See also earlier post.

Back down the years, my father saw gangs of these mynas fighting. Each group comprised of up to 20 individuals. The fight was even more peculiar. Two birds would clasp their claws together and engaged in a frenzy of beating wing and wild pecking. My father had personally seen them so engrossed with their fight that a passing van made roadkill of them.

“Gang fights” were often to the death. These were one-on-one battles where each member of a gang took on another from the other gang, instead of a wild 4-5 mobbing a single bird. And only one myna of the fighting pair walked away alive.

I myself have seen milder versions of such fights. It involved small leaps, accompanied by flapping of wings to prolong time in the air, and a brandishing of claws. This was usually enough to send a weaker opponent away. I have seen this in foraging mynas. One individual, probably a misfit, was constantly chased away by one individual of a group. Usually, the myna that was chased away picked another foraging spot.

From all this, it is easy to conclude that they have very complex social behaviour. And if so, how do they find mates? I have read that a myna mates for life, one reason why most of them forage in pairs. But if so, would a gang have an even number of individuals, made up of many of such pairs? Or would it comprise separate individuals with no sexual relationship to the others?

Territorial behaviour of mynas is of course more than just fights, there could be some kind of warning first. I often see the birds performing a kind of head movement. The myna would ruffle up its feathers (probably to make itself look bigger to opponents), and start bobbing its head up and down, which is sometimes accompanied by a shrill or a single call that is repeated. I have no idea if this is territorial behaviour, because I have also observed mynas that became violent without prior warning. Worse still, whenever I spot a myna performing the “head-bob”, I rarely see any other mynas around.

I also start to wonder whether only the male does it. I observed one of a myna pair near the edge of the road performing the “head-bob”. After it was done, the other myna beside it started to do the same. If it was a pair of one male and one female (life mates), then I can be sure that both sexes perform it and territory (if it was territorial in the first place) was “held on” by both members of the pair.

Can anyone shed some light to the above?

Contributed by Lim Jun Ying, a young birder with an inquiring mind

Comments by our bird specialist, R. Subaraj: Gang fights by Javan Mynas can indeed be pretty vicious and they are oblivious to nearly everything around when they are engaged in battle. Fights are often between separate packs, two pairs or sometimes, they seem to attack one particular individual. After it is over, it is not uncommon to find feathers everywhere and sometimes a wing as well. As for the headbobbing and ruffling of head feathers, here is a subject for study to determine the actual reasons behind it. It certainly looks like irritation and I have observed mynas ruffling their head feathers and muttering in their own language at me!

The Javan Myna (Acridotheres javanicus), formerly known as White-vented Myna, was brought into Singapore around 1920. Since then it has become very successful, especially in urban areas. The aggressive nature of this introduced myna has successfully displaced the once common Common Myna (A. tristis). Margie Hall laments the fact that back in the 1990s she used to see a group of up to ten Common Mynas by the beach at Sembawang Park, but for the last five or six years she only saw a couple or couple and immatures. And around Singapore she wonders whether anyone has ever seen more than a couple.

Indeed, the Javan Myna is extremely adaptable in terms of food and breeding sites. Our bird specialist, R. Subaraj, reports that it wakes up well before other birds to feast on road kills along our expressways. S.K. Kwan mentions that some 11 years ago she saw a myna making its nest slotted between the wall and the building signage at Magazine Road. They usually nest in the eves of house, as Margie rightly points out. She further adds: “They are seen going in and out the holes between beams in the above ground MRT line at Sembawang.”

My experience with this myna is in my garden. Whenever I do weeding, turn the compost or repot root-bound plants, there will always be at least one pair following me. Apparently these birds take the opportunity to catch insects and other invertebrates my activities invariably uncover. I am not the only person to notice this as Margie has similar experience in her garden. She further notes that the birds are always present whenever grass cutters are around.

These birds remind me of the Cattle Egrets (Bubulcus ibis) that were always around cattle that once roamed freely along our roads. But such a scene is no more, ever since the government long ago issued a veiled threat to round up the cattle, slaughter them and distribute the meat to charity homes.

Javan Mynas are scavengers and never miss an opportunity for a free meal. K.F. Yap reports his observations around Housing and Development Board’s apartment blocks. When cleaners empty the garbage bins each morning, huge flocks gather around. There will always be House Crows (Corvus splendens) too, but these shy birds will station themselves at a safe distance away. Only after the bins have been replaced and the bin-doors closed, and well after the cleaners have gone to the next garbage chute and the mynas have left the scene, will these crows fly in to forage.

Margie Hall adds her observations: “There is (or was for several years until recently, but then I have not made the turning at the same time as a garbage truck in the last few months) a group of five or six Javan Mynas who hang around Yishun Avenue 1 near the junction with Sembawang Road, where there is an extra right hand lane for traffic to wait for the right hand turn. Garbage trucks en route to Senoko regularly drive along Yishun Avenue 1, stopping at the junction in order to wait for the right hand turn. The mynas fly onto the back of the garbage trucks to see what they can find. As the trucks move forward to make the turn, the mynas stay on them. Only when the trucks have done the complete right hand turn and are accelerating on Sembawang Road do the mynas fly off the trucks and fly back to the trees near the waiting lane, to wait for the next truck!”

Jeffrey Low recalls seeing mynas doing something similar to fruit and vegetable trucks along the North-South Highway in Malaysia. They hop on and rummage through the fruits and vegetables until the trucks (presumably) rolls out of their territory or comfort zone before they hop off.

Contributors: K.F. Yap, Margie Hall, Jeffrey Low, S.K. Kwan and R. Subaraj.