112 WANDEEINGS OF A 



killed ten monal ia an hour. In the depths of these soli- 

 tudes, creeping up the trunks of ancient pines, or flying 

 wildly across the valleys, uttering its loud scream as it lights 

 on the side of a tree, is often seen the beautiful green wood- 

 pecker (Picus squamatus). I was crossing a deep ravine 

 one morning, when a golden eagle sprang from a rock with 

 a kaKj pheasant in his grasp. It was the first pcca- 

 sion of my meeting with that noble bird in Asia. I well 

 remember how he mounted into the sky with his prey, casting 

 a defiant look downwards at us ; but our Eley's cartridge 

 reached him, and he fell lifeless, with his quarry in his talons. 

 It was a young bird of that or the previous year, with a good 

 deal of white on the tail ; weighed 8 lbs. ; total length was 2 

 feet 8 inches ; and between tips of wings 6 feet 4 inches. 

 The golden eagle is not common on the Himalayas. I saw 

 several woodcocks (Scolopax rusficola), and one or two soli- 

 tary snipes (Gallinago solitaria), in the shaded situations and 

 more secluded valleys of the Chor. It is wonderful how 

 much climate and situation influence the size and general 

 appearance of individual species. I do not think naturalists 

 are sufficiently alive to this. For instance, the black partridge 

 of the plains of India is not so heavy or so weU. plumed as the 

 bird of the Himalayas. Even the kalij pheasant met with 

 in the sub-Himalayan jungles is decidedly smaller than the 

 same species found in the forests of the middle region. The 

 differences in such-like cases are very striking, and no field- 

 naturalist can overlook the effects of these great modifiers of 

 natural objects. It would be well, however, if indoor students 

 bestowed more attention, and made a somewhat more liberal 

 allowance when determining specific distinctions. 



One forenoon I saw a bearded-vulture stoop on a monal, 

 perhaps a wounded bird, and bear it off in his talons with the 



