
There are about 123 species of weavers worldwide, spreading over 16 genera, but more than half of the species are in just one genus, Ploceus. This includes the protagonist of this post, the Streaked Weaver. The species nicely illustrates the characteristic that gave the whole family its name: “Weavers are famous for the intricacy of the knots they make with green grass, resulting, once dried, in remarkably robust and coherent structures” (HBW).


Of course, a post about this species is therefore all about the nests. Typically, there are 15 to 50 of them together at one site. They are mainly prepared by the males from strips of reeds and have a downward-facing entrance – according to the HBW, the female assists later and adds a lining of fine grass stems, a bit like selecting the color of the window curtains.

Nest-building proceeds via several defined stages, from the wad stage, ring stage, helmet stage, and egg-chamber-closed stage to the completed nest. Photos of the different stages can be found here.

The weaving skill of the males is decisive in attracting a female for breeding, and nests are only completed once accepted by a female (source) – it is not so different from the Chinese norm for a male to have his own apartment to be deemed worthy of marriage.

Interestingly, males placed blobs of cow dung on the inner or both walls of helmet stage nests before pairing with females (source).

As seed eaters, Streaked Weavers can be damaging to crops, particularly rice.

Searching for information on the Streaked Weaver brought up a Bali folktale, quoted directly from the source:
A couple of streaked weavers made a nest because they would start laying eggs. Indeed, the bird was brilliant in making nests of leaves, such as coconut leaves, long grass like elephant fields, reeds, and straw. The tree where the bird’s nest is bearing fruit.
When it saw the Monkey coming up to the bird and asked, “Hey, Monkey, it’s good for you to chew on the ripe fruit. Your life is useless because you always rely on the efforts of others.” Unlike me, this nest I live in results from my sweat. Suppose humans see my nest or my beautiful house called “Streaked Weaver’s Nest”. In that case, not a few humans are amazed if, at you, all humans are annoyed”.
The Monkey replied curtly, “Hey, you despicable Streaked Weaver, that’s your nature, you don’t feel like you are trivial, you intend to mock the ugliness of others, but you don’t feel bad about yourself. Do you feel when you are looking for food, like rice fruit as the staple food of humans? You are very self-respecting, arrogant because you think you are good at making nests. You can know that my ancestral father was able to lead the sharpening of the ocean and make a bridge called Situbanda. My ancestors “accompanied Ida Batara Rama” to Lengkapura. Once the majesty of my ancestors became an accomplice of “The Main Lord” Sang Hyang Wisnu”.
The Monkey’s answer was clenching the Streaked Weaver’s nest, so the egg broke. Furthermore, the Streaked Weaver was sad and regretful.

While this is the storyline found in a presumably knowledgeable source, ChatGPT, when asked about this story, gives a more interesting version:

A monkey seeks shelter in a tree during a heavy rainstorm. Nearby, a streaked weaver bird remains dry and comfortable in its meticulously built nest. Observing the monkey’s plight, the bird comments:
“Why does a person endowed with hands and feet, and strength, like thee, get soaked in this rain? Such a small animal as I am, having built a house, stays in it without getting wet.”
The monkey, feeling insulted by the bird’s remarks, becomes angry and destroys the bird’s nest. The bird then seeks justice from the Monkey King, who initially sides with the bird. However, when the monkey offers a jackfruit to the king, the judgment is reversed, and the bird is dismissed.

As you can see, the ChatGPT story has it all – the initial praise for diligence and hard work, the initial rejection of bullying and destruction, and the final message that flattery and bribery can solve everything. Though ChatGPT incongruously insists that “this folktale continues to be a valuable educational tool in Balinese communities, promoting ethical values and social harmony”, it is not a story I would tell my kids if I had any, and definitely not a story I will tell my cats.

Finally, for more on avian architecture, I can recommend the book “Avian Architecture: How Birds Design, Engineer, and Build” – see here for a review.

All photos taken in Sri Lanka in March 2025 (at Yala NP and Tissamaharama).
There must be some reasons for putting dung on their nests, but I haven’t figured them out yet.
ChatGPT has a few hypotheses, but none of them are extremely convincing:
The behavior of Streaked Weavers (Ploceus manyar) placing cow dung or similar substances on or near their nests is not widely documented, but a few plausible hypotheses can be drawn from similar behavior in other bird species and from general ecological principles:
1. Predator Deterrence
Smell camouflage: Cow dung has a strong smell that might mask the scent of chicks or eggs from olfactory predators such as snakes, mongooses, or rodents.
Repellent effect: Some predators might be deterred by the unpleasant smell or potential association with larger herbivores like cattle.
2. Parasite or Insect Repellent
Some birds use aromatic plants or dung to repel parasites like lice, mites, or flies. It’s possible the dung helps reduce the parasite load in the nest by deterring insects.
3. Structural or Thermoregulatory Function
Dung might be used to reinforce the structure of the nest in some way, although this is less likely given its texture.
Alternatively, the dark color might help regulate nest temperature (absorbing more heat), though this is speculative.
4. Mate Attraction or Social Signaling
In weaverbirds, nest-building is part of courtship. Using unusual materials like dung could be a signal of creativity, resourcefulness, or territory quality. However, this would be unusual and might only occur in specific populations.
5. Coincidental or Opportunistic Behavior
The presence of dung may simply be accidental or opportunistic—for instance, if dung is plentiful in the area or used incidentally when gathering nest material.