224 BOMBAY DUCKS 
ditions, but cannot honestly attach its signature to 
the affirmation. 
The crow-pheasant is not a bird of great beauty. 
Nevertheless, I think that “Eha” is a little severe on it 
when he dubs it a great, awkward bird. I myself 
rather admire its shape, and should have nothing to 
say against the bird, did not its plumage not partake so 
much of the nature of patchwork. Its head, body, and 
tail are black, and its wings chestnut in hue. Black 
and brown do not form a happy combination. Why 
the birds of both sexes are thus attired I know not. 
This is one of the many unsolved problems of animal 
colouration. 
Were the thing not impossible, one would think 
that at some beanfeast long ago the crow-pheasant 
must have imbibed a little too freely, and then, in a 
moment of maudlin friendship, exchanged wings with 
some brown bird. For the wings do not match the 
rest of the plumage, nor are they large enough for the 
bird, hence its decidedly laboured flight. The smallness 
of its wings, however, does not worry the coucal, for it 
does not use those appendages much. It lives in thick 
cover, although it often ventures out in the open to feed. 
When alarmed, it flaps up to the nearest tree and then 
disappears from view in a mysterious way. As a tree- 
climber there is no other bird of the size which can 
approach a crow-pheasant. 
It is most amusing to watch him seeking his break- 
fast, which consists chiefly of insects. The bird picks 
his food off the ground and hunts by preference in the 
neighbourhood of water. His walk is best described 
