86 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



thrushes had passed was being quartered by eleven splendid pheasants. With 

 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, one of the young males appeared 

 as dark as a black-breasted kaleege, while its brother was lightly vermiculated. I 

 have described these in detail elsewhere. I watched the dainty birds, stepping high, 

 like thoroughbreds, 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 cylinders 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-coloured old male, which I had seen once before, while the others 

 passed me on either hand, together with a jungle-cock, 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 opportunity 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. 



As I shall describe in detail, even the two birds of the year which I later 

 secured, although appearing exactly alike at a distance of forty feet, turned out to 

 difl'er sufficiently to fit them to two of the so-called species of the closet taxonomists. 



The following day the same route was followed by both laughing thrushes and 

 pheasants, and on each of the succeeding six days, when my observations ceased. 

 In no fewer than eight other flocks, or more properly families, of pheasants in the 

 hills farther to the east I found the same interesting relation between the two 

 different groups of birds. 



Early in the morning the birds worked uphill toward the higher, warmer ridges 

 rather irregularly and at no special time, early or as late as nine o'clock, as the 

 fancy or abundance of food influenced them. At this time they kept together in 

 small family parties, uniting with others only when starting down for the evening 

 drink. Mid-day was spent in dense bamboo thickets or tangles of thorn palms, 

 where observation of them was almost impossible. I once watched three birds 

 apparently picking ticks from one another's heads, and even from under the uplifted 

 wings, at full noon, in the dense shade of some fallen vines. Toward two in the 

 afternoon of a partly cloudy day, or about three if the sun shone warmly and 

 uninterruptedly, the pheasants began calling to one another in undertones — sweet 

 notes which much resemble the voice of our own bluebird, without, however, the 



