196 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



stifling heat will permit in this region. They may drink at will and there must be food 

 of some kind in abundance, for the younger birds seemed never to tire of scratching up 

 the gravel and picking in the shallows. But these were exceptions. The Peafowl as 

 a whole became quiescent, and either slept or preened or stood with fixed sleepy expres- 

 sions, half on guard from habit, but obeying the law of the country, which demands 

 that almost all living creatures should rest during the midday heat. 



On moonlight nights they are sometimes awake and calling for hours, and once I 

 frightened one or more from some termite mounds in the glare of the full moon. 



When they roost in dense jungle it is in such tall, dead trees as I have described, 

 and these they reach not by a single upward flight, but by flying into a neighbouring 

 tree and then to the top of another, from which point of vantage they reach their lofty 

 perch. In the morning, however, from these same trees they descend with a single 

 splendid flight ; a flutter of wings at the start, then a long descending glide, ending 

 in another rapid beating, and occasionally a very undignified half-tumble, as they 

 encounter a branch or low bush before they reach the ground. Four or five birds 

 will sometimes roost in a single tree, and Dr. Ridley reports as many as seven. But 

 they seldom or never sleep close together, or side by side, except in the case of the 

 young birds. In more open jungle Peafowl roost on lower trees, choosing, as far as my 

 experience goes, always a tree whose trunk is smooth and without branches for some 

 distance. This may be more than a coincidence, as such a selection must be of great 

 value in guarding against the attack of small carnivores. Civets must be a constant 

 menace to these big birds, and fortunate is it for them that their almost glandless body 

 is practically devoid of odour. My one definite proof of an enemy was the half- 

 devoured body of a cock, surrounded by leopard tracks. North-east of the Pahang, in 

 the limestone den of some carnivore, I found old Peafowl feathers mixed with the fur 

 and bones of mouse deer. 



Let us pass finally straight down the Pahang to its mouth, and then, on the firm 

 white coral sand, take a trip to the southward. Here, too, it is better to search for the 

 birds in the evening or early morning. The fresh, cool sea-air blows salt across our 

 faces, and the heavy boom of the monsoon breakers, which bar this coast to vessels for 

 months at a time, is pounded out on the sand, sending curling sheets of foam far 

 up toward us. Turning inland we pass through a grove of Casuarina trees, which 

 gradually give way to vast stretches of tall coarse grass, deep rooted in the half-sandy 

 soil. Concealing myself behind one of the trees, I begin my watch. For a long time 

 nothing but the waving expanse of grass is visible. Then, without warning, something 

 thin and black shoots into view far off. There is a crook at the top, and the general 

 impression, as a Government Officer suggested, was of an umbrella handle. The 

 glasses showed the head and neck of a Peacock ; then a second and a third. Stalk 

 as carefully as one may, the spot is always deserted when one reaches it, but by 

 concealing oneself at the base of a tuft of grass the birds will often come quite near 

 before they detect anything wrong. 



Two old nests with remnants of eggshells were in the centre of grass plots, so like 

 thousands of others that accident alone could lead to their discovery. Here the birds 

 breed in safety, for even Malay praus will not live in the monsoon along this coast, and 

 the unhealthiness keeps the human inhabitants down to small numbers. 



