GREEN JAPANESE PHEASANT 133 



of the ''form," together with the central position of the sign, indicated that the birds, 

 like our Bob-white,. slept heads outward. How the long tails were managed when they 

 slept thus closely, tails inward, is difficult to imagine. In many places where these birds 

 abounded there were no trees large enough to support them. In one instance I knew 

 of three cocks which slept during the middle months of the winter on a sloping bamboo. 

 They would fly up to the highest arc of the circle, and, as the stem bent lower under the 

 weight of the second and third birds, would edge up the joints until a perfect balance 

 was attained. How they left their swaying perch I never could learn. 



At this season — mid-February — the cocks were in the height of their mating, and 

 every good-sized uncultivated hillock seemed to have at least a bird which called and 

 answered throughout the day, especially about ten o'clock in the morning and again at 

 four in the afternoon. Extended inquiry among the Japanese farmers indicated that 

 these birds were extremely sedentary, and very local in their movements, although this 

 is wholly dependent upon latitude. Sometimes in very severe weather the numbers 

 of pheasants in some sheltered lowland are increased, but on the cessation of storms the 

 birds redistribute themselves. 



In the northernmost parts of Honda, in the region of Sendai, where there are high 

 plains and mountains, all the Kiji descend to the low levels and the sea-shore during 

 the cold weather. Formerly, when these birds were more abundant, they descended in 

 great numbers, several scores being visible at one time, all headed in a downward 

 direction. This always took place in January. Such a pronounced seasonal shifting in 

 search of food is only slightly marked in central and wholly unknown in southern Japan. 



As we go upward and inland the copper pheasants become more abundant, 

 and after a comparatively narrow zone is passed, when both species are found, the 

 green birds disappear. In winter, when severe storms force the copper pheasants 

 down from their higher haunts, this common zone is much widened, the copper birds 

 penetrating far into the haunts of the lowland pheasants. 



The Green Pheasants of any one valley appear to hold their own in position and 

 numbers from year to year. The balance is so even that each spring one, two or three 

 cocks will call from much the same positions, and the young birds, if any survive the 

 dangers of elements, weasels and poachers, make their way elsewhere. It is probable 

 that the mortality just equals the increase. This is the condition of things at present. 

 Within the last decade there has been a great depletion of pheasants, the high prices 

 paid by milliners making the poaching risk worth taking, and resulting in the complete 

 extermination of the birds from some rather extensive areas. While they have not as 

 yet repopulated these regions, the pheasants are not now persecuted as much, the 

 customs being very strict about the exportation of feathers and skins. 



They seem to keep in pairs or small parties during the winter, pairing off in the 

 spring, the cocks with from one to three hens, and again uniting in small flocks as 

 families in the autumn. As I have said, covies occasionally associate and roost together 

 during the colder months. The cocks are untiring in their challenging in early spring, 

 and so omnipresent was this sound that, after hearing it over much of China, yet 

 when the broken crow comes to my ears from one of our eastern fields or from the 

 runway of a Zoological Garden, it is always some Japanese landscape and scene which 

 the sound memory revives. 



