136 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



the other pheasants in the paddock that all had to be removed. The hen then made 

 a rough hollow under a dense bush, lined only with the bent, dead grass stems which 

 happened to be growing on the spot. Here at intervals of one and two days she laid 

 six eggs, and on these she sat faithfully for twenty-four full days. This period of 

 incubation lasted from July 21 to August 14. The cock never took his turn upon the 

 nest, but was very faithful, fairly wearing a path in his circling guard duty several 

 yards distant from the spot. I never saw him approach closely to the nest, but he 

 was very pugnacious, and never failed to make a pretence of attacking any one who 

 approached the place where his mate was sitting. 



The five young chicks which hatched, left the nest within a few hours after 

 emerging from the shell, and kept very close to their mother, hardly leaving the shadow 

 of her body for the next two days. As soon as the chicks had left the nest the cock 

 joined his mate, and from this time onward they were constantly together. The cock 

 took his full share in feeding the young birds, calling them to him and giving them 

 small morsels as frequently as did the hen. Whenever they crowded under him, 

 attempting to brood, however, he apparently did not understand what was expected 

 of him, as he would walk slowly away, lifting his feet very high so as not to crush 

 the little downy creatures. His attitude towards danger also changed with the sudden 

 increase of his assiduity in caring for his offspring. When any one approached he 

 slunk away, holding body and tail low, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. 

 The chicks at such a time behaved much like young grouse or quail, separating at the 

 first note of danger from the mother, pushing deep into the grass, or squatting flat 

 as their little bodies would allow if no shelter was near. The hen pheasant presented 

 a complete antithesis to these tactics. Instead of slinking off or of attempting to hide, 

 she ruffled up every feather on her body, her wings were half spread and all a-tremble, 

 her red eyes dilated and fairly blazed with righteous fury. Then with shrill squeaks — 

 apparently too full of emotion to voice her feelings in any louder way — she would 

 fairly hurl herself at the intruder, sometimes striking one headlong as high as the 

 knees ; then, falling to the ground, she would cling with feet and claws to one's shoes, 

 wings spread and drawn around in a semi-circle, like an infuriated owl, pecking with 

 all her might at shoes and ankles. She presented a picture of absolute fearlessness 

 and mother fury. Pushed away with one foot, she returned at once with undiminished 

 vigour, and not until one had beaten a retreat did she slowly and reluctantly return 

 to where her young had implicitly obeyed her warning, remaining crouched and 

 silent. 



In about a week the young birds were able to use their wings with considerable 

 skill, and from this time on, when alarmed and given the danger signal, they flew off 

 in various directions, radiating out on every side except that of approaching danger 

 to the limits of their paddock before settling and crouching. In two or three weeks 

 the hen accepted the occasional visits of human beings as a necessary, normal event, 

 and the moment she ceased warning her brood, just so quickly did they, too, cease 

 to show fear, and all became reasonably tame. The year following this, the same cock 

 and hen bred again. After the first autumn moult the young birds are superficially 

 hardly distinguishable in colour of body plumage from their parents. 



