264 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 





near the summit of a wooded shoulder I saw six pheas- 

 ants feeding and I realized that, by skirting the base of 

 the ridge, I could slip up from behind and force them 

 to fly across the open valley. The stalk progressed ac- 

 cording to schedule. When I crossed the ridge there 

 was a whir of wings and six birds shot into the air not 

 thirty feet away. The sun, glancing on their yellow 

 backs and streaming plumes, transformed them into 

 golden balls, each one with a comet-trail of living 

 fire. 



The picture was so indescribably beautiful that I 

 watched them sail across the valley with the gun idle in 

 my hands. Not for worlds would I have turned one of 

 those glorious birds into a crumpled mass of flesh and 

 feathers. For centuries the barred tail plumes, which 

 sometimes are six feet long, have been worn by Chinese 

 actors, and the bird is famous in their literature. It 

 will be a real tragedy when this species has passed out 

 of the fauna of north China, as it will do inevitably if 

 the wanton destruction of the Twig Ling forests is con- 

 tinued unchecked. 



The next afternoon four sika deer gave me a 

 chase up and down three mountain ridges. Finally, we 

 located the animals in a deep valley, and I had an oppor- 

 tunity to examine them through my glasses. Much to 

 my disgust I saw that the velvet was not yet off the 

 antlers and that their winter coats were only partly shed. 

 They were valueless as specimens and forthwith I aban- 

 doned the hunt. Before leaving Peking I had visited 

 the zoological garden to make sure that the captive 



