BROWN EARED-PHEASANT 165 



trails in the tracks of their flimsy straw sandals, for the vast areas of stones made cruel 

 walking. Rarely, here and there, we saw a few spears of short brown grass, the only 

 hint of any summer vegetation. Most strange always seemed the total lack of the 

 remains of tall dead weeds, so common a sight in northern lands. In the afternoon the 

 rain turned to snow, and although this melted at once on the rough, rocky country 

 over which we had passed, yet before sunset we had a glimpse of the distant mountains, 

 shining ivory white in the clear air. That night our camp was most miserable, cold and 

 dreary, and we went to rest in our sleeping-bags to the wolfish howl of Mongolian dogs, 

 thinking of the terrible ravages of the plague throughout all this region, of the hopeless 

 disease which was only now dying out. 



The next day brought us actually within the zone of life of the greatly desired 

 Eared-pheasants, and after we began to ascend the outlying mountain slopes and passed 

 little straggling villages built of stone, we began to feel the exhilaration of even these 

 comparatively low elevations after the dreary monotony of the terrible endless plains. 

 It was still a land of rocks and boulders, but here and there bright flowers of early 

 spring gleamed in the calm frosty air. The lower mountains were monochrome save for 

 a constantly increasing touch of green in the stems of the willows. The steep hillsides 

 on the farther sides of the mountains were clothed with a beautiful golden russet mat of 

 dead grass. 



In days to come we left the boulder-strewn country behind and lived in a wilderness 

 of scrub oak, pine and birch trees — all scraggly and dwarfed from the constant fight for 

 life with the northern storms. One day's detailed observation will give a good idea of 

 the haunts and neighbours of the Brown Eared-pheasant. 



In a great sheltered valley, or rather in a deep niche cut out of one side, I watched 

 one day in early April for what might come. Beyond the farther ridge and far down in 

 the second valley was the camp. Before me was nothing but wilderness, stretching away 

 unbroken to the farthest edge of the great land, with none but nomadic northern tribes 

 of robbers to disturb the wild creatures, while behind was China with her teeming 

 millions of half-starving human beings. I crouched, wrapped in a blanket within my 

 cosy umbrella tent, with all the ventilation holes closed up, getting what warmth I could 

 from the sunshine diluted through a zone of fleecy clouds. After setting up my little 

 stand in many places I had had so far only the briefest glimpses of wild creatures, twice 

 Eared-pheasants and several times small mammals. To-day I watched some little vole 

 or shrew-like animals chasing one another from one grass tunnel to another within a few 

 feet of where I was ensconced. They were veritable little weather vanes as regards the 

 sunshine. When a dense cloud drifted across the face of the sun, all vanished as 

 inexplicably as if dissolved in air ; when the warm rays began to make shadows behind 

 each rock, the tiny black forms began to flicker here and there, timidly at first, then more 

 and more boldly. When the sunshine was really strong, as it became after the morning 

 mist was completely dissipated, they became positively courageous, and one little chap 

 clambered upon a stone at my very side, not four feet away, and made his toilet under 

 my inspection. Every part of his tiny furry form was scratched and combed with the 

 diminutive feet and claws, the little fellow sometimes fairly rolling over, doubled up into 

 a round ball like a Japanese netsucke, as he worked with both fore feet at once. Finally 

 he seemed satisfied and scampered off. When about to enter his tunnel, he hesitated a 



