CEYLON JUNGLEFOWL 
Gallus lafayetti Lesson 
NAMES.—Specific: /afayettz. English: Ceylon Junglefowl. French: Coq Lafayette. Native: Wali-kukuld. 
BRIEF DESCRIPTION.—Male: Hackles of neck and mantle and all but the largest wing-coverts pale straw 
to deep golden yellow, with a black or chestnut central stripe; back and rump orange-red, with much of the 
visible portion glossy violet ; secondaries purplish, and tail-coverts and tail greenish-blue; greater coverts partly 
blue, partly chestnut; a violet patch on the lower neck; remainder of under parts bright orange-red; with the 
chestnut stripe becoming dominant on the belly, and black on the lower belly and flanks ; comb red, with a cefitral 
yellow patch ; face, throat and wattles red; iris yellow, legs and feet pink or yellow. Female: Crown brown, 
nape rufous; mantle, back and wing-coverts brown or greyish, vermiculated with black ; secondaries with irregular 
bars of black, buffy-white and chestnut; tail chestnut, mottled with black ; upper breast mottled black and brown, 
with white shaft-stripes, which become dominant on the lower breast, with black margins and cross band ; iris 
yellow ; legs and feet brownish-yellow. 
RANGE.—The Island of Ceylon. 
2HE BIRD IN Its HAUNTS 
Ir is two o'clock in the morning in the wilderness of South Ceylon, and darkness 
and silence claim the whole world. From the porch rafters of a native house my 
hammock sways gently, and I twist around and peer out between the meshes. - For a 
very long time there is absolute silence. Then far off there comes a series of falsetto 
shrieks and wild, inarticulate cries, as a native urges his bullocks along the distant trail. 
Now and then the wheels give forth a whining creak, and again silence settles down. 
The Cinghalese driver dozes, the wheels are quiet, but still the path of the cart is marked 
through the distant darkness. As it jolts past the acacias, a line of slumbering bulbuls 
is roused to semi-consciousness and a minute of silvery song. After a phrase or two 
each bird sleeps again, and the sweet refrain is taken up by the next in line. Always, so 
insistently that our conscious hearing fails to record it, sounds the dull klonk, klonk, of 
the bullock bells, those wooden notes of warning to the leopards slinking hungrily along 
the opposite side of the thorn scrub. 
The first sound of dawn comes from the little house-lizards, as they cease their 
night's hunting and retire to safe nooks and crannies. All join in a chorus of sweet, 
thin notes, an acceleration of tones as of a marble dropped and settling to rest upon a 
silver table. About six o'clock the first bulbul awakens, and soon afterwards the tailor 
birds add their vibrations—seef-o ! seet-o ! seet-o! Now with a rush comes the full 
matin orchestra, and from all directions sounds the daily medley of croaks, whistles, 
warbles and coos. The crows vocally monopolize a certain period of the dusk. 
A lazy kwa, kwa, near at hand; then a distant Awa! kwao/ and every black fellow 
within hearing at once takes up the variation and bandies it back and forth. Before 
sunrise the first Junglefowl challenges chuck / George-Joyce/ and is promptly answered, 
and by listening carefully and orienting the various crows and their directions, ten or 
twelve may be individually distinguished. 
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