GREEN PEAFOWL 



Pavo mutiais Linnaeus 



Names.— Specific : muticHs, Latin adj. docked or curtailed. English : Green or Green-necked ; Burmese, 

 Siamese, Eastern, Javan or Malay Peafowl. German : Der Javanischer Pfan, oder Birmesischer Pfau. French : 

 Le Paon vert, ou Paon spicifere. Native : Merak, Burong Merak (Malay) ; Mah (Malayan Negritos) ; Chem- 

 merak (Central Sakai of Batang Padang); Doun, Doung, Oodoung (Burmese) ; Marait (Talain) ; Toosia (Karen) : 

 Pegu-majura (Bengali). 



Type. Locality: "Habitat in Japonia." Describcr : Linne. Place of Description: Sys. Nat. L 1766 

 p. 168. ' 



Brief DESCRIPTION.—Male : A tall, narrow-vaned crest ; facial skin blue and yellow ; head and throat 

 green ; neck and fore part of body above and below bronze, with blue centres showing on the mantle ; back green 

 centred with bronze and edged with blue ; posterior ventral surface dull green and black ; smaller wing-coverts 

 green, larger ones and primaries chestnut ; train as in Indian Peacock. Female : Resembles the male, except that 

 the upper parts of the body plumage lack the green gloss and are mottled with buff; no elongated train. 



Range.— Chittagong, Burma, Siam, Cochin China, Malay Peninsula and Java. 



THE WILD BIRD IN ITS HAUNTS 



It was mid-October when I reached the country of the Green Peafovvl among the 

 eastern foot-hills of the Pahang mountains. One night, after a long, unsuccessful search 

 for peacock pheasants, I had my Malay crew paddle hour after hour down the Pahang 

 River in the moonlight. At last, when clouds came up and an increasing number ol" 

 snags made it dangerous to proceed in the dark, my head man stopped clo^e to a sand- 

 bank, warped the house-boat close in under the bushes and tied fast. I had no idea of 

 where we Avere. The Malayan jungle rose high overhead-a mass of black shadow, 

 silent, save for now and then the shrill monotone of some nocturnal forest insect. Once 

 a half-submerged tree drifted past, scraping the sides with its withered foliage. The 

 rest of the night passed quietly. 



Early morning on the Pahang is always beautiful. As one awakens slowly from 

 slumber, so the dawn comes slowly in this tropic lowland. The glare of the sudden 

 leap of the sun above the horizon is dimmed, delayed, diluted by the thick morning 

 mist, and only gradually does the dusk give way to the grey twilight of dawn. Rising 

 on elbow and looking out over the side of the boat, the swift current becomes more and 

 more distinct through the fog which drifts slowly downward like a sluggish, aerial river 

 flowing gently over the denser one below. As the light grows, and the mists lift and 

 fray upward, a low brown line shows across and down the river, and finally the shapeless 

 masses of foliage beyond the sandbank come into view. Here and there white-barked 

 trunks gleam like the ghosts of trees. The saturated air is heavy with the odour of the 

 white plume blossoms. The eddies are filled with their petals. A pair of hornbills cross 

 high overhead, wholly hidden by cloud, but registering every wing-beat in a loud deep 

 whoofl whoof! which, even through the still mist, carries far. Bulbuls burst into'son- 



