8 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



never otherwise have been able to find her, so perfectly did she blend with the weathered 

 rocks. This was one more of the many instances I have observed of the advisability of 

 leaving the question of protective or non-protective colouring to the birds themselves. 

 Of many cocks seen under many varying conditions of light and shadow, rock and 

 vegetation, I have never seen one which did not catch the eye at once, even when the bird 

 was motionless, and again, I have seldom or never detected a hen until she revealed her 

 presence by some movement. 



I saw no hint of association with other birds, nor did I observe any attack by 

 predatory mammals or birds. Twice, however, I came across the remains of tragedies in 

 the form of scattered wing and body feathers, the work of owls or eagles. 



A third finding of feathers was of great interest. These were only body feathers of 

 cock birds and were scattered over a considerable area. The point of especial interest 

 was the varying condition of these. Some were bedraggled, faded and trampled into 

 the dirt, others were comparatively fresh. There seemed little doubt that there had been 

 many battles fought here between rival males. In captivity, even where the birds are 

 given an abundance of room, there is no favourite tilting field. The birds fight when 

 and wherever they chance to meet. Although I watched long and continuously for more 

 direct evidence of the meaning of this place, none was forthcoming. Once a female 

 walked quickly across it, but no males ever came near it while I remained in the 

 vicinity. 



The crowing of the males was vigorous and continuous in the early mornings, as I 

 have said, and the way the call of one bird was instantly answered indicated the willing- 

 ness to give and accept challenges. The pugnacity of the Golden Pheasant in captivity 

 is notorious, and this is apparently no whit diminished in a wild state. The segregation 

 of the hens, however, and the absence of a confining paddock fence diminish the 

 mortality in the latter case. A number of cocks may be safely confined by themselves if 

 wholly out of sight of any female, but so short-tempered are they that even the presence 

 of a young male in female garb will often precipitate hostilities, which it must be admitted 

 are rather abortive and futile. If a single female be admitted, however, the tragedy of 

 the Kilkenny cats is likely to be re-enacted, and often the company of males will fight 

 until a single, much-wounded cock remains, too sick of life and weak to take any 

 interest in the feathered Helen who was the cause of all this fearful contest. 



The breeding season begins about April in central China, although the courtship 

 and challenging of the males is instituted at the first hint of spring, their fine emotional 

 frenzy being an excellent thermometer, decreasing on chilly days, and conversely gaining 

 in vigour and intensity in the warm sunshine of early spring. 



Only once did I observe a wild cock in the act of showing off before a hen. This 

 was when the pair of birds had not passed beneath my tent, as I had hoped, but circled 

 higher up and worked along the ridge between me and the crest. The day was chilly 

 and cloudy, the low, mist-like clouds driving before a wind which was unfelt in my 

 sheltered position, but which I could hear soughing through the stunted pines far 

 above me. The pheasants found some source of food supply in a small niche on 

 the hillside and remained there in full view for many minutes picking at the bamboo 

 stems and among the scattered fallen leaves. Suddenly a rift in the clouds let through 

 a flood of warm sunlight. The dull green twilight in my tent glowed and I instantly 



