WHITE-TAILED WATTLED PHEASANT 147 
human being. Now semi-erect, now quadrupedal, I made my way on and on, 
passing for the first hundred yards through old, long-overgrown clearings. These 
are characterized by trees of medium size and a very dense undergrowth of rotan- 
like growths, spiny palms and, in every spot where sufficient sunlight filters through, 
by the climbing fern which raises its fronds stratum upon stratum, resting upon the 
stems and branches of any surrounding growths. Then a dimness settled down upon 
the trail, I was able to walk in a less crouched attitude, and soon the undergrowth 
thinned and I found myself surrounded by great mossy, lichened trunks—the remains 
of the primeval forest of this great island. 
I turned off the trail between the low, irregular walls of a gully, down which a 
small brook filtered noiselessly through and over great pads of moss. Some distance 
up-stream I found recent evidences of scratching among water-worn pebbles and 
coarse damp gravel. This seemed encouraging, and as the sun was getting low I 
looked about for a place to conceal myself. The gully narrowed and deepened into 
a gorge, and presently showed where a side stream, a still finer unit in the plexus 
of tributaries, entered. Ten or fifteen feet from the ground I found a little half cave, 
in front of which leaned an old tree. The stones were quite dry, and here I ensconced 
myself, crushing a score of pink begonia blossoms as I wriggled in. Somewhere 
above me a dyal-bird was singing its sweet, long-drawn-out notes, and the steady 
throb of great crickets shrilled close at hand among the crevices of rocks. After a 
few minutes of waiting, the loud woof! woof! of hornbills’ wings came up the little 
gorge, and several birds alighted out of sight and barked at each other for a while. 
Then I heard the low crackling of leaves and twigs, and to my amazement I saw 
cattle passing almost under me, splashing through the shallows. There were three, 
one a bull almost black with all four feet white, the other two being cows. I knew 
them for banteng, the wild Bornean cattle, and watched them pass slowly from sight 
with the keenest interest. 
For a long time I thought that I had seen my last game. Only pittas hopped 
here and there, and an occasional barbet or broad-bill swooped across the space in 
front of me. Once a flying lizard, with wings brilliant as those of a butterfly, glided 
from a tree high overhead to a trunk only a few feet away, where it clung and 
watched me. Its tail and hinder body were pressed closely to the bark, but the 
forelegs held the shoulders and head at full length, while from the throat the long, 
conical gular pouch inflated and deflated nervously. A family of paradise flycatchers 
flew over, greatly excited, crests erected and scolding hoarsely. Then came the sight 
of the afternoon. My eyes were resting idly on the big elephant-ear leaves at the 
edge of the forest-trees when there stepped out the daintiest of tiny deer, a chevrotain, 
then another and another. After a momentary sniffing at the spoor which the greater 
hoofed animals had left, they stepped ahead and, close behind them, showing no fear, 
came four White-tailed Pheasants. There was one fully adult male with sweeping 
white tail, and a female, apparently its mate, while the other two were immature 
birds of the year. I was already flattened to the rock as closely as possible, but 
now I even half closed my eyes, dreading lest their sharp vision should search me 
out. But it was another proof of how little these lesser jungle folk, while in the 
forest, look for danger from above. Indeed, the slender stems of the great arum-like 
