MALAYAN CRESTLESS FIREBACK 103 



My first glimpse of the Malayan Crestless Firebacks was wholly unexpected, and 

 came while I was completely absorbed in other forms of life. 



For three hours or more, since early dawn, I had been creeping on all fours, or 

 progressing in a still lowlier position, stalking and observing junglefowl. I had 

 started inland from the bank of a small river in central Johore, and had become rather 

 confused and uncertain as to the most direct route back. I knew, however, that 

 a sight taken from any tall tree would set me right, so I chose a hidden resting-place 

 in a shady, partly dry spot, beneath a small forest of giant caladium-like growths, and 

 became absorbed in a pair of tumble-bugs revolving their diminutive globe. They had 

 gleaned from the sleeping-place of a mouse-deer and had kneaded the clay and 

 prepared their tunnel. Their methods differed in no way from their kindred all over the 

 world. Exactly thus had I seen them push and tug on the sand of Egypt before the 

 tombs of Sakkara ; thus had they done before me in a Virginia pasture and a New 

 England roadside. I found later that more than one pheasant had accepted these hard, 

 horny morsels as food, breaking them in pieces, but swallowing hard elytra and thorax 

 as well as soft body. 



My reverie was suddenly interrupted by a wasp which hovered so close and so 

 angrily that I left at once. A tropical wasp nearly two inches in length is as dangerous 

 to health as a strong attack of fever. To my dismay I discovered behind me a herd of 

 water buffaloes coming slowly along one of their trails. I shifted quickly to a position 

 between two small trees, either of which I could mount swiftly. A person who has once 

 been charged by buffaloes puts dignity out of mind at once on their appearance. For ten 

 or fifteen minutes they grazed near me, fortunately keeping up wind. 



Then came a sight for which I was wholly unprepared. Trotting along the trail 

 came a string of birds — a glance showed they were Crestless Firebacks, twenty-two in all, 

 about an equal number of males and females. They passed not more than fifty feet 

 from where I crouched, straight through the herd and on out of sight. This was well 

 worth the siege of the buffaloes, which I raised by an elaborate circling, and, knowing they 

 had come from the river, I followed on their back track, and in twenty minutes was at 

 the camp, eating breakfast. Why so many birds should be together I could not tell, 

 unless it is the habit for several families to unite after the young birds have reached full 

 size. 



I had one other glimpse of these birds in this locality. I had gone far beyond the 

 buffalo ground into light jungle. Green, black-faced babblers were everywhere, hanging 

 to the leaves and twigs in their strenuous search for insects. Long-billed sunbirds 

 dashed about me, uttering sharp tsips, and a little squeaking on my part drove them to 

 the highest pitch of excitement. Now and then two or three hornbills passed high 

 overhead, with their alternate flap and soar like pelicans. One of the most characteristic 

 sounds of the Malayan jungles is the deep, soft, w hoof I whoof I w hoof I 'w hoof I 

 whoooooooooof ! whoof I whoof! whoof! whoof I whoooooofl of their great pinions. 



A number of gibbons had just finished their morning's chorus, and were swinging 

 about the trees just ahead, making a tremendous racket, while at the same time they fed 

 on some gourd-shaped fruit. Now and then a head would swing up into view, eye me 

 keenly and hurl a few hoots at me. They kept my advance under most careful 

 observation. A junglefowl scampered away with a fowl-like, broken cackle of fright. 



