RED JUNGLEFOWL 183 
Unlike a number of the true pheasants, Junglefowl are essentially gregarious in 
their roosting. In Tenasserim this seems to be carried to the extreme, as the following 
note suggests: “On one occasion, near Pahpoon, I counted thirty males and females 
seated side by side on one enormous bent bamboo. Mr. Hildebrande was with me, 
or I should not have ventured to record the fact. I counted them carefully through 
my binoculars. They were at the other side of the Younzaleen, I guessed about seventy 
yards off; I loaded a large duck-gun with big shot, fired at the lot and—apparently did 
not touch one.”—(Davison, in Hume’s “‘ Game-birds,” I., p. 225.) 
When watching a small flock of bronze-tailed peacock pheasants in Pahang, I saw 
four Junglefowl go to roost across a deep, narrow mountain valley. Although within 
easy shot they did not mind my presence, apparently considering that my only method 
of attack was to descend and ascend the extremely deep and steep slopes. They had 
chosen a stubby tree growing obliquely out of the cliff side and directly overhanging 
the great depth beneath. Far down below the water could be heard, and high overhead 
the wind was raging, but the four birds crept silently along branch after branch, 
ascending slowly until they reached one which was protected by an overhanging mass 
of foliage and vines, and here, after a prolonged scrutiny of me, they settled down close 
together ; a family evidently, cock and hen and two nearly grown young birds. Twice 
I have known of cocks roosting singly, night after night in the same place, but in both 
cases the hen was sitting on her eggs near by. I do not think the cocks often crow 
from their roosts before they descend in the morning. The several times that I have 
surprised birds as they sent forth their challenge, it has been uttered either from the 
ground, a fallen log or a low perch other than their regular roost. When they begin 
their evening calling, they are usually upon the ground, and the crow is certainly not 
uttered after they have retired to their roost. 
The roosting-place most often chosen is near the top of a horizonally bent bamboo, 
a position liable to sway wildly in a wind, and, one would think, offering but a poor 
foothold at the best. It must, however, be as safe a place as could be selected, few 
creatures being able to climb the thick, smooth butts of the stems. When an ordinary 
tree is utilized, its position, either isolated in the jungle, or, as I have described, over- 
hanging a deep chasm, aids in making the roosting-place less liable to direct attack 
from creatures of the night. That most excellent observer, Mr. Osmaston, writes me 
that ‘usually several birds roost fairly close together in one or in adjacent trees.” In 
countries other than Garhwal, all I have seen were grouped in one tree, sitting as close 
to one another on the same branch as they could crowd. 
The only intimacies which I have observed in the life of these birds are with their 
domestic kindred of the villages. In regard to this relationship I shall have more to say 
farther on. With this exception, I have observed only the casual company of babblers, 
who sometimes accompany the Junglefowl down a long slope on their way to water, 
and are ever ready to sound the alarm when their keen eyes and more elevated position 
have enabled them to detect one’s presence. 
Their enemies vary, of course, with the locality, but members of the mink family, the 
smaller cats (such as fre/is chaus), hawks and eagles are unquestionably the greatest 
dangers with which these birds have to contend. In all my watching, I never observed 
a tragedy, although more than once I saw individuals suddenly terrified by some menace 
. 
