io A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



haunts of the Blood Partridges are hardly lower than the upper zone of small pines, 

 while they range upward to the tundra-like alpine meadowland itself. 



DAILY ROUND OF LIFE 



The food varies both seasonally and with the locality. Hooker's observations, 

 copied by so many recent authors, were based chiefly on birds in forests of fir during 

 heavy snowfall. He found them almost unpalatable, owing to the turpentine flavour 

 imparted by a diet of newly sprouted fir and juniper sprouts. Blanford speaks of them 

 in late September as good eating. Their diet consisted at this time of small fruits, 

 leaves, seeds, and the spore cases of moss. Hodgson includes insects and grass in their 

 menu, and states that they do not feed on the various bulbous roots so beloved by 

 impeyans and pandas. I can add tender bamboo shoots, the scarlet berries of a 

 creeping vine, and the pips of the Sikhim white rose to the vegetable food list of this 

 Partridge. 



Once in Nepal, close to the Sikhim line, I found a family of five Blood Partridges 

 feeding in a most interesting way. The region was devoid of all but grassy vegetation, 

 with a few scattered clumps of low barberry bushes. A heavy snowfall, unseasonable, 

 as it was mid-April, had covered the ground and hidden all the seeds and leaves of the 

 low-growing plants. What I had not noticed during previous days was now made 

 conspicuous by the background of snow — the abundance of clumps of tall stems, each 

 topped with the seed-case of a last year's lily. These three-parted, brown and brittle 

 cups showed where in past months had bloomed scores of red and yellow blossoms. 

 I was able to watch the feeding Partridges for only a few minutes before a raven 

 discovered me and croaked his disapproval, sending the covey scuttling off along the 

 hillside and over the nearest ridge. At the same time a flock of pipits and finches 

 flew up and away. 



The snow was soft and I read in its surface the confirmation of what I had 

 observed. The Partridges had appeared to be leaping up at the seed-cases, or pressing 

 against and bending down the stems. I carefully examined many which had been 

 thus disturbed and found that there was good reason for these actions. 



The fierce gales and winds of the past winter had tipped and swayed the lily-seed 

 goblets, and the flat, reddish seeds had been scattered over moss and snow, skimming 

 along on their circular wings for many yards around. But with all this upsetting, 

 only about half of the seeds had been shaken out. I have spoken in a previous 

 paragraph of the insect life which was noticeable even after a heavy fall of snow, and I 

 found that one secret of their presence was the half-emptied seed-cases, which, on these 

 high, treeless barrens, formed safe and snug retreats. Into one case a rove-beetle 

 had crawled ; into another a small moth, although, owing to the number of seeds still 

 remaining, the tips of the insect's wings protruded from the top. Here two tiny flies 

 were resting, hardly able to use their legs, much less their wings, in the chill of the 

 morning. There is no doubt but that these insects remain in their retreats in a state 

 of semi-frozen hibernation until the return of more seasonable weather. 



When the snow and ice covered thickly all other food, the Blood Partridges found 

 here a bountiful feast — both of seeds and insects — in the lily cases. The maze of 



