222 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 
is heard, it freezes into an attitude of concentrated attention, and gives voice again 
the moment the rival has ceased. 
When their mate has a brood of chicks, I am told they fly down at once to the 
ground, where they crow from time to time as they search for food. When thus 
engaged even continued and exact imitation of the wing clapping will not entice 
them away. 
Many days of observation in the dry coastal belt of country show that the 
Junglefowl begins to crow at the very first hint of dawn, about 5.15 a.m., and at 
5.30, just defore sunrise, their chorus is at its height. Half an hour later it has 
begun to diminish, both as to number of birds and frequency of utterance. The 
birds are now apparently feeding, but there is no actual cessation until about nine o'clock. 
Toward evening a second challenge period occurs, never, however, as enthusiastic 
or persistent as that in the morning, and this is stopped by dusk, when the birds 
reach their roosting-places. I have heard what was probably a final crow, sounding 
forced and sleepy, with but little of defiance in its drawled utterance. On cloudy 
days, hardly an hour passes without a crow from one direction or another, and now 
and then an emotional outbreak will occur and spread from cock to cock until the 
chorus is almost as great as at daybreak. This is of rare occurrence, however, and 
lasts but a short time, when silence again ensues. 
I have several times found scattered feathers and the entangled tracks of the 
feet of Junglefowl, indicating that a battle had recently taken place. Where the 
ground is soft such evidence is quite conclusive if no tracks other than those of 
the birds themselves are visible. But I have never found a disabled bird nor blood 
on the feathers. My most direct evidence was the condition of some of the cock 
birds which I shot, their damaged hackles, half-healed scars on the breast and sides, 
and torn combs showing that they must have been through some severe contests. 
The length and sharpness of the spurs of this species make it probable that such 
encounters must frequently end fatally. There are several accounts of fights between 
wild Junglefowl and native cocks, the former always coming out victorious. 
Ceylon Junglefowl are both monogamous and polygamous, with no apparent 
preponderance one way or the other. I have known of two hens undoubtedly mated 
to a single cock, and again I have found three different pairs of birds, each pair 
feeding and roosting in such isolation that there was little doubt that they were 
mated. Three is the largest number of hens reported to me as constantly seen with 
a single cock during the breeding season. Captive Junglefowl are always attentive 
to hens, feeding them, and paying much court to them. The few times that they 
have mated in captivity it has always been with but one out of a number of domestic 
hens. When, however, several hybrid hens have been introduced, the wild cock has 
mated with them without delay. 
The sites of nests are various. I found two nests, one close to the trunk of a 
small tree, protected by overhanging vines, and the other far under the drooping 
twigs of a cock-spur thorn-bush near the edge of a glade. Other situations on the 
ground may be in a clump of grass or bamboo, in the shelter of the turrets of a 
white ants’ nest when surrounded by grass, or in the hollowed base of a rotten 
stump of a tree. Mr. Thomas has found a nest hidden under an old log, and also 
