WILD KALEEGE HYBRIDS 85 
Mosquitoes rose in clouds and pestered me sorely. Once the low tree-ferns on the 
opposite bank were shaken, and through the deeper shade of their fronds I saw a 
small tiger-cat passing, slowly, sinuously. He, too, sensed that pheasants come here 
to drink. 
Knowing from the silence that they were not yet among the bamboos above, I 
crept on up the valley. Tree-vines had hung their great masses of bloom overhead, 
and graceful wisteria-shaped flowers lightened the gloom with their pink and salmon 
petals, and spread far their musky odour—that of.hemiptera. Some four-footed 
creature dashed from my path and, marking its fright, left another sharp stratum of 
musk upon the air. | 
I came upon a maze of footprints, where pheasants had that morning crossed 
the muddy rim of the pools, and here I turned upward. I know of no more difficult 
feat than attempting to climb noiselessly up a steep bank through clumps of bamboo, 
the ground covered with the driest of sheaths and leaves. Finally I passed the 
grave of a Kachin chief, covered by an oval, thatched hut and a curious ornament 
of dyed bamboo. Just beyond I reached the mule trail, which at this point cut into 
the bank of the upper slope. Still hearing nothing, I climbed half-way to the summit 
of the ridge, here an open growth of oaks, when suddenly a shift in the breeze 
brought to my ears a loud scratching and rustling among the fallen leaves beyond 
the summit. I was exposed to full view, so with all possible speed I backed down 
the slope on hands and knees, crossed the trail and ensconced myself in a small 
thicket, which gave me full view of the oak slope which I had just left. 
For half an hour I heard nothing, then a leaf flew upward from a tangle of 
vines, and a sturdy form leaped high over a log into view. It was not a pheasant, 
but a big, black-gorgeted laughing thrush. Another and another hopped down the 
slope, now hidden by tree-trunks or bushes, now standing out in full silhouette. 
There were sixteen in all, spread out in a segment of a circle, and chuckling low 
to themselves at every succulent morsel. They are splendid, sturdy birds, jay-like 
from beak to claw, now holding a wormy acorn and pounding away as hard as a 
woodpecker, then, ant-thrush like, picking up leaves and throwing them far over 
their backs. I was absorbed in watching their gradual approach when a jungle-fowl 
crowed loudly in the valley beyond the ridge, and brought my mind sharply back to 
pheasants. I was keenly disappointed at having apparently missed my birds, and 
half rose to go. At my first motion a laughing thrush set up a truly jay-like yell, 
and answers came from a score of throats, guffaws and peals of loud laughter which 
no real jay could ever produce. I sat quiet, their alarm passed, and they began to 
sail overhead down the valley. Not being certain at this time of the species I fired 
and secured one. 
I waited five minutes and heard not a.sound, save the calls of the laughing 
thrushes far down below me. Rising stiffly, and slowly moving out into the trail, I 
began to reload, when half-way up the slope a black head and neck shot up, and 
the warning or suspicion cry of a kaleege pheasant rang out sharp and shrill. 
I dropped flat upon the trail, and wriggled back over the edge into my thicket 
again. Not a cluck or call came from the slope above, but little by little a low 
sub-sound of rustling leaves, and in ten minutes the ground over which the laughing 
