RED JUNGLEFOWL 



Gallus gallus (Linnaeus) 



Names. — Generic and specific : Gallus, Latin gallus, a cock. English : Red or Wild Junglefowl. German : 

 Kaminhuhn ; Bankivahuhn ; Wildhuhn. French : Coq bankiva. Native : Jungli murgh ^, Jungli moorghi $, Bun 

 moorghi (Upper India) ; Kukar, Kukra, Bun-kookkoor, Bunkokra (Bengali, Lower India and Assam) ; Nagtse-ja, 

 Natsu-pia (Bhutan) ; Tang-kling, Pazok-tchi (Lepcha, Sikhim) ; Beer-seem (Koles) ; Gera-gogor $, Kuru $ 

 (Gonds) ; Lall (Chanda) ; Tanghet or Tanquet (Burma) ; Ajam-utan (Celebes). In the Malay States the following 

 names are current : Manuk (Negritos) ; Nanak (Northern Sakai tribes of Upper Perak) ; Denak, Puk Denak 

 (Central Sakai of Batang Padong); Ayam Denak, Ayam Merih (Forest fowl, Besisi of Selangor and Negri 

 Sembilan) ; Pok Brugak (Jakun of Pahang) ; Ayam Utan, Ayam Denak, Ayam Borga (Junglefowl, Decoy fowl 

 and Wildfowl respectively; Malay). 



Brief Description. — Male : Crown, neck and hackles golden brown to orange-red, passing into straw 

 yellow on the longer hackles. Mantle, smaller and greater coverts metallic green or purple. Scapulars, back and 

 median wing-coverts dark maroon, shading into orange-red on rump. Exposed parts of secondaries cinnamon. 

 Tertiaries and tail metallic green. Lower parts black. Face and throat thinly feathered ; a serrated comb and 

 two gular wattles. Female : Rusty red on head, shading into orange on neck and pale yellow on mantle with 

 median black stripe. Upper parts reddish-brown, finely mottled with black. Secondaries mottled with pale 

 brown on outer webs. Fore-neck chestnut. Rest of under-parts pale light red. Face thinly feathered, comb 

 very small. 



Range.— North-eastern and Central India, south through Siam, Cochin-China and the Malay Peninsula to 

 Sumatra. Introduced in many other islands of the East Indies. 



THE BIRD IN ITS WILD HOME 



Far up in the wilderness of Northern Burma, close to the Chinese border, I left 

 camp one morning before dawn, shivering in the cold December dusk. As I brushed 

 against the wet undergrowth, some bird now and then uttered a startled chirp, or, not 

 yet fully awakened, began a sleepy refrain. No other sign of life came from the jungle. 

 The air was heavy with the overpowering sweetness of a multitude of white blossoms 

 draped on vines from tree to tree. Within the next two hours I sought and found the 

 place where a flock of kaleege pheasants passed over the ridge every morning from 

 roost to water. 



On my return the sun was already well up and the early morning chorus in full 

 swing. At this season the jungle trails are alive with butterflies. As one walks along 

 they rise in myriads, alighting on one's clothes and hat, brushing one's face like a flurry 

 of leaves in autumn. Scores of species of all the spectrum's hues are seen within the 

 space of a few yards. 



Birds are eagerly hunting their breakfast, but snatching every spare moment for 

 song or cry. Rollers fly past, flashing their brilliant heliographs of blue from beneath 

 the dull brown wing-coverts. As we approach a straggling Shan village, the under- 

 growth thickens and small birds increase. A flock of at least fifty silver-eared mesias 

 drifts past, then a gorgeous yellow and black Indian oriole, and a jewelled sunbird 



shoots up like a meteor. 



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