The Lesser Shortwing (Brachypteryx leucophrys) is a bird that not many birders have the opportunity to see. More often than not, it is heard than seen. And once heard, its rich and melodious song remains with you.

But even after hearing its vocalisation, it is extremely difficult to locate the bird. It lurks on or near the ground, alone or in a pair. And mostly, it remains within the tangle of vegetation in the forest understorey, or at the forest edge hidden among the thicket.

Yet, KC Tsang managed to photograph both the male and the female in Peninsular Malaysia’s Fraser’s Hill. He did not encounter both sexes on the same visit. In July 2006 he managed to see and photograph a female bird when it emerged from hiding to take a bath in a forest stream (above). As for the male, he only got his shot two years later, in March 2008 (below).

The Lesser Shortwing is mostly a montane forest bird, found generally at an altitude of 1,500 and 2,100 metres. According to Wells (2007), it’s “advertising-song is surprisingly loud and intense: two deliberate, well-separated notes, who, hee, followed immediately by a sweet but explosive jingle lasting about a second, too fast to unravel by ear (slightly slower on the E-coast Range), but with sharply up-and-down notation and some doubling of sounds.” Its alarm call “is a 3-6 repetitions of a low but sharp monosyllable, tuk or tak, answered with a fine, thin see or whee.

Reference:
Wells, D.R. (2007). The birds of the Thai-Malay Peninsular. Vol. II, Passerines. Christopher Helm, London.

“I received a tip-off on February 8th, 2008 from Martin Kennewell, that he had encountered a flock of the mysterious ‘White-faced’ Plovers at Changi that morning. The next morning, Martin Daniel and I set off for the site (with the help of my wife, Sham, who drove us to the end of the road).

“The site was at the northern end of the large area of reclaimation at Changi. Here, on the coast, a sand-bar extends out in a semi-circle but does not re-connect with the coast. Both of us reached the site after a walk that produced a few birds, including an Eastern Marsh Harrier (Circus spilonotus) and several Himalayan Swiftlets (Aerodramus brevirostris) migrating north.

“Walking out on to the sand-bar, we noticed that the large flock of shorebirds, mentioned by Martin Kennewell from yesterday, was largely absent. Instead, toward the end of the bar were a few shorebirds. We identified 3 pairs and an immature female Malaysian Plovers (Charadrius peronii) (above: 2 females and a male), 8 of the ‘White-faced’ Plovers, 2 Lesser Sand Plovers (Charadrius mongolus), a Terek Sandpiper (Xenus cinereus) and Common Sandpiper (Actitis hypoleucos). A flock of about 50 Pacific Golden Plovers (Pluvialis fluva) also flew over.

“I took a few photos but the White-faced Plovers were somewhat cautious, moving away when we got too close (above). Hence, my Panasonic Lumix was only good enough to make record shots.

“Lin Yangchen also visited the site a few days later, with a group of birders that included Martin Kennewell and David Blakewell. He managed a couple of much better shots of the White-faced plover, as seen here (left).

“Is this really a new species? They certainly looked quite distinctive when we saw them. A good case is certainly being built up by a few overseas birders and we now await capture of a bird to take a blood sample for final confirmation. Best of luck everyone!”

Images by Subaraj Rajathurai except close up of bird by Lin Yangchen.

Ng Bee Choo reported seeing a juvenile Red-legged Crake (Rallina fasciata) at the Singapore Botanic Gardens’ Visitor’s Centre. The bird usually appears around 1900-1930 hours (at dusk) to feed. This was the same place where she earlier saw an adult bathing in a puddle of water after a burst of rain.

The juvenile that she encountered was not shy but was frightened by loud noises. It usually hangs around under cover of vegetation, to emerge when it deemed safe.

Yue Yun has also seen it a few times. So had Prof Ng Soon Chye, who recently videoed an old juvenile pulling an earthworm from the ground. The bird was going around pecking the ground when it detected an earthworm. Suddenly it pulled out the reluctant worm.

“I have seen the adult Red-legged Crake too. It seems that there is a family living near the car park,” says Bee Choo.

There is indeed a family there, consisting of the parents and a juvenile. They are regularly seen foraging under cover of the vegetation, to emerge into the grassy area in the late evening.

Images by KC Tsang.

“The Rail-babbler (Eupetes macrocerus) is one of the most cryptic and enigmatic of the birds in the Sundaic rainforest. It occurs on the Malay Peninsula as well as in parts of Sumatra and northern Borneo. The habitat is lowland rainforest, mainly primary forest but also adjacent mature logged forest with a closed canopy.

“But what kind of bird is it? The name indicates some relationship to the rails, Rallidae, but that is obviously coincidental for this Passerine. For many years it was included in Timaliidae with the babblers, a diverse family with 309 species worldwide. However, anyone who has ever seen a Rail-babblers (or a Malaysian Rail-Babblers as it was known then) would agree that there was something wrong with this, it simply didn’t belong. The morphology doesn’t match. And nor does the ecology, a Rail-babbler can fly, but it rarely does, it prefers to walk. It walks with its fairly long legs and long tail across the forest floor cluttered with leaves and saplings, it hates to be out in the open and trots quickly across clear patches; when it reaches a fallen log it jumps up and walks across it. Even when captured and released it will immediately jump down onto the forest floor and run off (Wells, 2007).

“In 1998 I was in the Arfak Mountains in West Papua, the Indonesian part of New Guinea to photograph birds. There I came across a Chestnut-backed Jewel-babbler on the forest floor, and it struck me immediately how much this Australasian bird resembled ‘our’ Rail-babbler in built and behaviour. Craig Robson’s A Field Guide to the Birds of South-east Asia came out in 2000 and put the Rail-babbler in the crow family, Corvidae, this taxonomy didn’t make sense and was never generally accepted outside the Oriental region. David Wells (The Birds of the Thai-Malay Peninsula Volume Two, 2007) put Rail-babbler in its own family, Eupetidae, which quite possibly is the best solution. Then Handbook of the Birds of the World Volume 12, arriving in Asia this year, finally placed Rail-babbler with the family jewel-babblers and allies, now named Eupetidae after the Rail-babbler, the only species occurring in South-east Asia, the other 17 all in New Guinea or Australia. The Rail-babbler has found a suitable family at last.

“This is the picture illustrating the Rail-babbler in the book (above). I hired R Subaraj to guide me into the Panti Forest Reserve in Johor. Subaraj managed to call the bird forward by imitating its long, wailing whistle and on the third morning we finally saw it well enough to get a picture.”

Earlier, Richard Hale read the report and sent this query: “…but surely the article means the Rail Babbler has never heard of the Wallace Line? Or are there others in Borneo?”

To this, Morten Strange replies: “…no there are no other jewel-babblers on Borneo, or in Wallacea for that matter, the Rail-babbler’s nearest relatives are on New Guinea.

“This way, the Rail-babbler appears to be one of those birds that we have in South-east Asia that is the sole representative of its family in this sub region, from an otherwise exclusive Australasian family. The other examples that come to mind are of course Golden-bellied Gerygone (Our ‘Flyeater’ of the Acanthizidae family, one species in SE Asia, 62 in Australasia) and Mangrove Whistler (Pachycephalidae, one species in SE Asia, 55 in Australasia). But you may ask then, why does the Flyeater not occur on Borneo when it is in SE Asia plus Sulawesi and Lesser Sundas (across the Wallace Line in the Wallacea subregion) ..????.

“Getting back to the Rail-babbler, I did shorten the whole story a bit to get to the conclusion quickly. If you read the opening chapter for Eupetidae in HBW you will see that they consider that it might be best placed in its own family (as Wells does). However, they also point out a number of associations with logrunners and with the African groups rock-jumbers (under Timaliidae) and the small family picathartes, also restricted to Africa, which biogeographically appears even more bizarre. I jump straight to the conclusion that they end up putting it with the jewel-babblers and allies, in fact the Rail-babbler has previously been placed in the same genus as the four Ptilorrhoa jewel-babblers on New Guinea, and although it no longer is, I mention anecdotally that the similarities are striking.

“How it happened I don’t know, but we ended up with this peculiar rainforest bird right at our doorstep that is so enigmatic and unique, so I thought that it was worth mentioning.”

Note: The Rail-babbler does not occur in Singapore, but in the nearby state of Johor in Malaysia.

Four species of ‘Flamebacks’ are identified in SEA field guides to birds but only two resident species, Greater Flameback (Chrysocolaptes lucidus) and Common Flameback (Dinopium javanense) are found quite frequently in Malaysia’s open deciduous woodlands, secondary forests and mangrove areas.

Two pairs of male and female species are shown as follows (above and below: 1-4).

From nowhere, these two species of cavity nesters never fail to send birders’ heads turn by their dramatic entrances. Their loud, quick and metallic trilling calls, “tit-tit-tit tit-tit-tit…” that just simply could not be ignored.

Vocalising calls have been observed to be variant, louder in the Greater but slower than Common Flamebacks.

Abseiling in undulating flights, both insectivorous species display bark gleaning and wood pecking behaviours whilst clinging on to wood trunks, with their polydactilous toes that end in horned claws. In vertical positions, their black, stiff tail feathers act as brace over tree trunks while their chiselled bills banging at living and dead wood like the sound of distant drums, “tok tok tok tok tok”.

Plumage wise, the male of both species look similar at a quick glance. They wear a feathery black and white scaly under carriage, a feathery red skull cap and adorn golden coloured capes revealing their red backs. They truly look like their backs are in flames. Such befitting description of these two species, have given Flamebacks their rightful names instead of, ‘Goldenbacks’ as previously known.

The same question is often asked by novice birders in the field: “Which one is that-the Common or the Greater?”

Let’s take an armchair walk into the field, inviting readers to refresh or make better acquaintance with these fascinating and alluring Fu Manchus - their ubiquitous behaviours turning many nature lovers into an addictive hobby of bird watching.

With a decent pair of binoculars 8-10×42 (8-10 means magnification distance and 42mm is the diameter of the binocular lens) and standing about 50 feet away, three prominent indicators should view and will help identify the different species at which ever position a birder is looking at the bird.

The first pointer is directed at looking at a species whose rear is facing you. One can appreciate that the nape or the back of the neck is feathered white in the Greater Flameback (above: 5).

As compared to the Common Flameback, the bird’s nape is feathered black. The male bird looks like he is wearing a red skull cap, spotting a Manchurian black braided pig tail and cloaks in royal robe! (right: 6).

Second pointer goes to viewing the side face of the bird or viewing the bird from a side view or profile, will show that both species spot a black Fu Manchu’s moustache. This sub- moustachial stripe is situated below the black eye band and is curved downwards.

The Greater Flameback has a black sub-moustachial stripe that splits into two, forming a loop like an island and meeting up at the side of the neck. Whereas, the sub-moustachial stripe of the Common Flameback spots only one smart, black Fu Manchu stripe (below: 7-8).

The third pointer is directed at the toes of these arboreal birds. There are four toes seen on the Greater (below left: 9). That makes him my 4-toed woody pecker pal.

“How many toes can readers see on the foot of the Common Flameback Dinopium javanense?” (below right: 10).

“See the difference?”

There are more subtle differences between the two species which even high grade binoculars alone will find inadequate to seek out more details of birds. Seldom too will birds perch long and close enough for such intimate observations.

This is where a spotting scope with magnification x30 comes in handy to view forest birds. Mounting the scope on to a digital camera on a steady tripod will further enhance much rewarding results in appreciating the finer aspects of bird identification and accuracy.

The beauty is, digiscopers need not be near to birds to see and be seen nor need they be unduly stressed out by humans associated to be bird predators.

Let’s look again at the two female species of the Greater and Common Flamebacks- Image 3 & 4 to enjoy the difference. They do not wear any feathered red skulled caps. Instead, in both species their heads are black and white.

A closer look in digital photography shows one has white spots and the three toed Common Flameback has white streaks!’ This is not easily seen with the naked eye even with a pair of binoculars at distance.

While we are looking at the heads, it might interest readers to note that the beak’s length is equidistant to the head of the Greater while the beak of the Common is shorter. (Please compare Image 7 & 8).

Some field guides describe the colour of eyes to be, ‘pale’ or ‘yellow colour’ in the Greater and ‘dark brown’ or ‘chestnut’ in the Common. The eyes of the male Greater Flameback Chrysocolaptes lucidus in this Image 7, shows this species appearing to have golf balls with black dot stud in his eye sockets!

Sophisticated digital cameras equipments and latest technique in bird-digiscopy, an accidental discovery made only in the late 90’s have revolutionised the way birds are being observed and documented in the 21st. century.

It is indeed an exciting time to be viewing birds be it behind one’s own back yard or take on the iron bird and go off shore- to roads less travelled.

I hope you have enjoyed refreshing yourselves in reading the joys and excitement of bird watching- in the hope too of meeting up with one of these members of the Picidae family, sending readers’ hearts a quickening.

By Avian Writer Daisy O’Neill, Penang, Malaysia
© FLAMEBACKS DUO 2008