RED JUNGLEFOWL i79 



remarkably even distribution. In a country suited to them and within their general 

 range they are almost certain to be found. That is to say, there is not the inex- 

 plicable inter habitat hiatuses which characterize some of the true pheasants. 

 Exceptions, of course, are to be found where they have been exterminated by human 

 agency from some intermediate tract of country. Considered in general they may 

 certainly be said to be abundant, probably the most abundant of the so-called game- 

 birds in the East, although it is hardly fair to make this comparison, owing to the 

 constant recruits to their ranks from half-wild native fowls. 



Red Junglefowl are sociable birds, and, except during the breeding season, when 

 association is either for fighting or for pairing, they are often found in good-sized 

 flocks. They are found very frequently in pairs, and it is seldom that I have seen or 

 have heard of a solitary cock or hen. 



As often as I heard the Red Junglefowl in various Eastern countries it was always 

 with a start at such familiar, barnyard sounds coming from the jungle, where sometimes 

 I knew there were no human dwellings within a distance of many leagues. When 

 in search of a specimen or a bird for the mess, more than one has escaped with its 

 life by giving utterance to such domestic sounds that I unconsciously withheld 

 my fire. 



The crow of the Red Junglefowl, like the details of plumage and colour of wattles, 

 shows quite marked variation, which is rather individual than characteristic of the 

 birds of any one district. This is undoubtedly due to the infusion of a domestic strain 

 in many apparently purely feral birds. I have several times had the opportunity of 

 watching and hearing Junglefowl crow, in districts far from cultivated areas, the birds 

 showing by their low-hung tails and lank, rakish carriage that they were in appearance 

 at least truly wild. 



On one such occasion I had concealed myself at earliest dawn in a thicket, on 

 either side of which ran a trickle of water. This was in the heart of the Pahang jungle, 

 and my choice of this particular place was influenced not only by the fact that for 

 several days I had heard a Junglefowl calling near by, but also that it was free from 

 the hordes of leeches which infested the surrounding foliage, and which made stationary 

 observation elsewhere an impossibility. 



I became aware of the bird first by an excited cackle, which I feared was caused 

 by the discovery of my presence. But through the leaves I saw that its attention was 

 directed elsewhere. Its suspicion was soon allayed, and it came quietly on to the edge 

 of the dark jungle rivulet, where, after a momentary delay, it leaned down, swiftly 

 scooped up a beakful and again froze into a statuesque attitude of keen scrutiny. Seven 

 times the bird drank, then turned aside, wiped its beak upon a pebble and instantly 

 flew up to a bare branch about twelve feet from the ground, its wings beating rather 

 noisily. 



Three or four minutes passed. Then the bird flapped its wings three or four times, 

 giving forth resounding smacks, and at once crowed, then listened intently. Again 

 and again the challenge rang through the jungle, without, however, any further beating 

 of wings. Once a distant crow was heard in answer, and this caused an excited reply 

 of several utterances in quick succession, followed by an equally long period of waiting. 

 After a half-hour the bird descended and vanished into the forest. Its cry as I wrote 



