148 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 
plants and elephant-ears could hardly support a dangerous foe, while the absence of 
low branches left merely the smooth or mossy trunks which gave foothold only to 
squirrels and woodpeckers. It was upon the surrounding jungle that they concen- 
trated their sight and heating, and, as in my posts of observation in the densely 
foliaged deodars and firs in the Himalayas, here, too, I was wholly safe from detection. 
When the deer and the pheasants reached the stream they all drank deeply, selecting 
clear pools well away from the disturbing footprints of the banteng. Never did all 
seven drink at once; always one or two—a chevrotain with nostrils outstretched 
and quivering, or a pheasant with head raised on high, each with a pair of bright, 
unwinking eyes. For twenty seconds at a time the male White-tail would hold such 
a position unmoving—a position of which it has been stated that “The picture in 
the ‘ Birds of Asia’ gives a wrong idea of the carriage of the bird, and I very much 
doubt whether it ever sits up in the way there depicted,” as if any bird whose habit 
it was to skulk could not as well raise itself on tiptoe to gain a wider view-point. 
During the many minutes which I was fortunate enough to keep these birds in 
sight, I was impressed most profoundly with the constant, never-failing alertness 
and sense of danger. I realized as never before how, in this jungle, which in com- 
parison with South American forests seemed almost barren of organisms, life could 
be lived safely by these weaker creatures only by an unceasing watchfulness. Even 
when the birds began scratching, they were always on the lookout, and only when 
for a fraction of a second they snatched a morsel did they cease their watch. 
I was interested to see them scratch not only in the gravel and mud, apparently 
uncovering tiny worms, but also in the shallows, making the water fly in all directions, 
and then snatching eagerly at something edible which swam in the water. Some- 
times the old female would take her stand in an inch or two of water, and her two 
nearly-grown young would reap the benefit of her exertions, all three pursuing the 
minute worms and crayfish and aquatic insects; for I later found that all three groups 
contributed to the diet of these pheasants. The musk-deer seemed to enjoy standing 
with all four feet in the water, and they busied themselves not so much with brows- 
ing, as with their toilet. With their tiny hind hoofs they scratched and rubbed all 
parts of their head and shoulders. Perhaps leeches were tormenting them or flies 
had bitten them, as they did ourselves morning and evening upon the river banks. 
There was a very obvious association and an apparent mutual understanding between 
mammal and bird which brought vividly to mind the similar relation between the 
musk-deer and kaleege pheasants of the Himalayas. The pheasants walked in and 
out among the deer unheeded, and the deer, hardly a yard distant, sniffed unconcerned 
at the muddy water sullied by the vigorous scratching of the birds. The bonds 
between the various members of the White-tail family were very loose, indifference 
expressing the attitude, especially on the part of the parents, although all kept more 
or less closely together. But there was no attempt at feeding, or of any motion that 
I could detect, except that of tolerance as of one bird to another in a flock. The 
male invariably took the lead, and usually passed ahead of the others from one pool 
or spot of gravel to another. The deer, although they appeared first in the open 
part of the gorge, seemed rather to follow than to lead, and more than once passed 
on, following and keeping close to the vicinity of the pheasants. It was remarkable 

