RED JUNGLEFOWL 
Gallus gallus (Linnaeus) 
NAMES.—Generic and specific: Gallus, Latin gal/ws,a cock. English: Red or Wild Junglefowl. German: 
Kaminhuhn ; Bankivahuhn; Wildhuhn. French: Cog bankiva. Native: Jungli murgh 2, Jungli moorghi °, Bun 
moorghi (Upper India) ; Kukar, Kukra, Bun-kookkoor, Bunkokra (Bengali, Lower India and Assam); Nagtse-ja, 
Natsu-pia (Bhutan); Tang-kling, Pazok-tchi (Lepcha, Sikhim); Beer-seem (Koles); Gera-gogor ¢, Kuru ? 
(Gonds) ; Lall (Chanda); Tanghet or Tanquet (Burma) ; Ajam-utan (Celebes). In the Malay States the following 
names are current: Manuk (Negritos); Nanak (Northern Sakai tribes of Upper Perak); Dénak, Puk Dénak 
(Central Sakai of Batang Padong); Ayam Dénak, Ayam Mérih (Forest fowl, Besisi of Selangor and Negri 
Sembilan) ; Pok Brugak (Jakun of Pahang); Ayam Utan, Ayam Dénak, Ayam Borga (Junglefowl, Decoy fowl 
and Wildfowl respectively ; Malay). 
BRIEF DESCRIPTION.—Male: Crown, neck and hackles golden brown to orange-red, passing into straw 
yellow on the longer hackles. Mantle, smaller and greater coverts metallic green or purple. Scapulars, back and 
median wing-coverts dark maroon, shading into orange-red on rump. Exposed parts of secondaries cinnamon. 
Tertiaries and tail metallic green. Lower parts black. Face and throat thinly feathered; a serrated comb and 
two gular wattles. Female: Rusty red on head, shading into orange on neck and pale yellow on mantle with 
median black stripe. Upper parts reddish-brown, finely mottled with black. Secondaries mottled with pale 
brown on outer webs. Fore-neck chestnut. Rest of under-parts pale light red. Face thinly feathered, comb 
very small. 
RANGE.—North-eastern and Central India, south through Siam, Cochin-China and the Malay Peninsula to 
Sumatra. Introduced in many other islands of the East Indies. 
TE BIRD UN: ALS: WiahisD TOME 
Far up in the wilderness of Northern Burma, close to the Chinese border, I left 
camp one morning before dawn, shivering in the cold December dusk. As I brushed 
against the wet undergrowth, some bird now and then uttered a startled chirp, or, not 
yet fully awakened, began a sleepy refrain. No other sign of life came from the jungle. 
The air was heavy with the overpowering sweetness of a multitude of white blossoms 
draped on vines from tree to tree. Within the next two hours I sought and found the 
place where a flock of kaleege pheasants passed over the ridge every morning from 
roost to water. 
On my return the sun was already well up and the early morning chorus in full 
swing. At this season the jungle trails are alive with butterflies. As one walks along 
they rise in myriads, alighting on one’s clothes and hat, brushing one’s face like a flurry 
of leaves in autumn. Scores of species of all the spectrum’s hues are seen within the 
space of a few yards. 
Birds are eagerly hunting their breakfast, but snatching every spare moment for 
song or cry. Rollers fly past, flashing their brilliant heliographs of blue from beneath 
the dull brown wing-coverts. As we approach a straggling Shan village, the under- 
growth thickens and small birds increase. A flock of at least fifty silver-eared mesias 
drifts past, then a gorgeous yellow and black Indian oriole, and a jewelled sunbird 
shoots up like a meteor. 
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