6 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



were often very precipitous, and the rocks predominated, while small tufts of coarse 

 grass sprouted in the crannies, with here and there a low-growing clump of some red or 

 yellow flowering plant. Part way down the slope there usually occurred a fault — making 

 a level terrace a few feet in width, and below this the slope was less steep, and permitted 

 the bamboo to secure a firm foothold. These terraces I found to be the best places for 

 erecting my umbrella tent, and in such locations I had good opportunities of watching 

 these brilliant pheasants. 



In early morning they would begin their calling, usually some distance down in the 

 valley. Through the blue mist would come the harsh, metallic, double screech, chd- 

 chac ! or chap-chdk I an utterance almost impossible to indicate in words. A bird 

 calling two hundred yards away would be answered by another near by, and then from 

 the opposite slope would come a faint cha-cha! softened and mellowed by distance as 

 is even the voice of raven or peacock. The pheasants did not appear to descend to the 

 bottom streams to drink in the morning, and indeed there seemed little need at this 

 season, as every leaf and blade of vegetation was a-drip with dew. The calling at first 

 was most vigorous and continuous, but the birds remained stationary for some time, 

 from the first really clear dawn, when the crowing began, until the valley mists had well 

 cleared away. They called from the immediate vicinity of their roosting places, and 

 these seemed to be quite definite, as on several consecutive mornings four distinct 

 calling birds were in relatively the same positions. I did not trust to memory for this, 

 but mounted four little twig pointers in my tent, indicating the direction from which 

 came the voice of each. 



I could get no reliable information as to seasonal migrations of Golden 

 Pheasants, but from the nature of their haunts there can be relatively little shifting 

 with the seasons. The deepest valleys offer but slight change from the sides of the 

 mountains, and the birds, at least in early spring, ranged over every altitude in the 

 vicinity of the places where I studied them. 



In spite of the fact that the Golden Pheasant is everywhere trapped by the Chinese, 

 it seems to be holding its own, and unless there is added some new monetary incentive 

 in the way of bounty upon its beautiful plumage, the species will apparently be found in 

 a wild state for many years to come. The extreme protective nature of the plumage of 

 the female and the careful way in which the nest is hidden, are additional safeguards. 

 The Chinese farmer frequently catches the young of many species of pheasants, but I 

 have never heard of any Golden chicks being thus obtained. Their very small size and 

 extremely wary nature are important aids to their preservation. 



In the early spring I saw a number of solitary males, while a greater number were 

 accompanied by a single hen. I once thought I had discovered a Golden harem of three 

 hens with a single cock, but my glasses showed that two of the birds were immature 

 males, showing a few adventitious adult feathers. Before they drifted out of sight up 

 the hillside the young birds had detached themselves from the society of the older ones 

 and taken a new route. 



In captivity, four or five hens are frequently allotted to a single cock, but in my 

 experience the chicks have been stronger when the birds are paired. This is all the 

 evidence I have in regard to monogamy. 



Golden Pheasants are pre-eminently terrestrial, even to a greater degree than most 



