ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 49 
ened the gloom with their pink and salmon 
petals, and spread far their musky odor—that of 
Hemiptera. Some four-footed creature dashed 
from my path and marking its fright, left an- 
other sharp stratum of musk upon the air. 
I came upon a maze of footprints, where 
pheasants had that morning crossed the muddy 
rim of the pools, and here I turned upward. 
I know of no more difficult feat than attempting 
to climb noiselessly up a steep bank through 
clumps of bamboo, the ground covered with the 
dryest of sheaths and leaves. Finally, I passed 
the grave of a Kachin chief, covered by an oval 
thatched hut and a curious ornament of dyed 
bamboo. Just beyond, I reached the mule trail 
which at this point cut into the bank of the 
upper slope. Still hearing nothing I climbed 
half-way to the summit of the ridge; here an 
open growth of oaks, when suddenly a shift in 
the breeze brought to my ears a loud scratching 
and rustling among the fallen leaves beyond the 
summit. I was exposed to full view, so with all 
possible speed I backed down the slope on 
hands and knees, crossed the trail and en- 
sconsed myself in a small thicket, which gave 
me full view of the oak slope which I had 
just left. 
For half an hour I heard nothing, then a leaf 
flew upward from a tangle of vines and a sturdy 
form leaped high over a log into view. It was 
not a pheasant, but a big black-gorgeted laugh- 
ing thrush. Another and another leaped down 
the slope, now hidden by tree trunks or bushes, 
now standing out in full silhouette. There were 
sixteen in all spread out in a segment of a 
circle, and chuckling low to themselves at every 
succulent morsel. They are splendid sturdy 
birds, jay-like from beak to claw, now holding a 
wormy acorn and pounding away as hard as a 
woodpecker, then, ant-thrush-like, picking up 
leaves and throwing them far over their backs. 
I was absorbed in watching their gradual ap- 
proach, when a jungle-fowl crowded loudly in 
the valley beyond the ridge and brought my mind 
sharply back to pheasants. I was keenly dis- 
appointed at having apparently missed my birds 
and half rose to go. At my first motion a 
laughing thrush set up a truly jay-like yell 
and fifteen throats answered, but with guffaws 
and peals of loud laughter which no jay could 
ever produce. When I sat quiet and their alarm 
passed, they began to sail overhead down the 
valley. Not being certain at this time of the 
species I fired and secured one. 
I waited five uinutes and heard not a sound, 
save the calls of the la ighing thrushes far down 
below me. Rising stiffly and slowly moving out 
into the trail I began to reload, when half-way 
up the slope, a black head and neck shot up 
and the warning or suspicion cry of a kaleege 
pheasant rang out sharp and shrill. 
I dropped flat upon the trail and wriggled 
back over the edge into my thicket again. Not 
a cluck or call came from the slope above, but 
little by little a low murmur of rustling leaves 
and in ten minutes the ground over which the 
laughing thrushes had passed was being quar- 
tered by eleven splendid pheasants. With my 
balanced glasses I could see every feather. Four 
were adult cocks, four more were hens, while 
the other three were nearly grown young males. 
Without doubt four of them comprised a still 
united family of the present year, while five 
others seemed to represent another. To my 
surprise I could easily distinguish between three 
of the male birds. A solitary cock was the 
lightest of all, apparently a full-blooded Silver 
Pheasant, one of the young males appeared as 
dark as a black-breasted kaleege, while its 
brother was lightly vermiculated. I watched 
the dainty birds, stepping high like thorough- 
breds, snatching an insect or leaping at some 
morsel on a leaf overhead, or picking up an 
acorn; ever alert and watchful. I remained as 
still as the tree-trunk at my back and the birds 
descended half way down the slope toward me. 
Then two Kachin women with silver and 
tassels in their ears and great baskets on their 
backs came along, chattering loudly. They 
halted when they saw me and despite all my 
motions, stood stupidly gaping at me for several 
minutes, before they plodded on their way. The 
pheasants had of course retreated to cover and 
when, twenty minutes later, they returned they 
were spread out more irregularly. I secured 
the light colored old male and two young black 
ones which came within range and the others 
passed me on either hand, together with a 
junglecock, which in bearing and gait was not 
to be compared with the far more elegant and 
graceful pheasants. Except for a short, sharp 
alarm note and five minutes of silence, the rest 
of the flock paid no attention to the roar of the 
gun. As I had occasion to notice on many other 
occasions, if one shoots from a thicket and 
makes no movement after firing, the birds seem 
to have no sense of direction of the danger and 
are but little affected by the sight of their dead 
companion. When headed down toward water 
I have never known a flock to be turned back 
by shots fired in this way, and have secured as 
many as four from the same ambush. 
The following day the same route was fol- 
lowed by both laughing thrushes and pheasants 
and on each of the succeeding six days, when my 
observations ceased. In no fewer than eight 
