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CHINESE HEADMAN 
The headman of the village of Sin-ma-how showing where 
the Silver Pheasants could be found. 
ground could never detect until too late; and 
again I have repeatedly seen several thrushes 
stand around while the pheasants scratched 
or pecked to pieces some fallen log, now and then 
springing into the air to seize an insect that 
had escaped by flight from the larger birds. 
Two species of laughing thrushes are thus 
found in intimate association with the pheas- 
ants, the black-gorgeted and the black-throated. 
These were usually in separate flocks of from 
six to eighteen individuals, but now and then 
I observed both species feeding together. When 
a bare patch of ground or a wide trail is encoun- 
tered, the pheasants cross it by a quick dash, 
the laughing thrushes by a single scaling flight. 
After drinking at the rivulet or pools in the 
ravine bottoms, by which time it is almost dusk, 
the birds fly up into trees to roost for the night. 
I have never actually seen this, being defeated 
either by the sudden descent of darkness or the 
wary scouting of the birds before they retire. 
But again and again I have heard the heavy 
hollow beating against air and leaves as the 
ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 
KACHIN BOY 
He is armed with a cross-bow of wood with trigger of elephant ivory 
that shoots poisoned arrows. By his side is his great sword-knife 
birds reach a first and often a second branch 
before they settle down, after mumbling a few 
smothered, low notes. By aid of the strong 
moonlight I have seen them sound asleep, seldom 
above, but two or three close together, a few 
feet from the trunk, heads under wings. 
The few crickets whose chirps were not yet 
silenced by the chill of the autumn night still 
shrilled faintly ; small owls hawked about after 
droning beetles; a podargus fanned my cheek 
like a ghost of a bird, and far off in the black- 
ness toward the wild Chinese mountains, came 
the moan of a leopard. As I turned homeward, 
a wind—first prophet of the morrow’s storm— 
rattled the bamboos, drawing forth weird sounds 
which seemed to verify the Kachin’s belief in 
the spirit nats which wander along every trail at 
night searching for evil to do. For this reason 
these wild hillmen will never travel at night, 
and as I trudged toward camp from the sleeping 
pheasants I knew that whatever dangers the 
darkness hid at that hour, it was from animal 
and not human foes. 
