MALAY BRONZE-TAILED PEACOCK PHEASANT 



Chalcurus inopinatus Rothschild 



Names. — Generic : Chalcurus, Greek, kuXko^, copper ; ovpd, tail, copper-tailed. Specific : tnopinatus, Latin, 

 unexpected. English : Malay Bronze-tailed Peacock Pheasant ; Mirror Pheasant ; Malay Mountain Pheasant ; 

 Native : as it lives only in the mountains, this bird is not known by name to the Malays of the lowlands. 



Type. — Locality : Ulu Pahang. Describer : Lord Rothschild. Place of Description : Bull. Brit. Orn. Club, 

 XIII. 1903, p. 41. Location of type: Tring Museum. 



Brief Description. — Male : Head and neck dark grey, flecked above and spotted on throat with white. 

 Above chestnut, with numerous, small, violet ocelli each with a proximal buff spot. Below black, faintly mottled. 

 Tail black, spotted with rufous buff. Usually no ocelli on central tail-feathers. Twin, green, indefinite ocelli 

 on the lateral coverts and rectrJces, the one on the outer web twice as large as the inner one. Female : Smaller 

 but similar to the male, except that the ocelli on the body and wings are smaller and quite or nearly devoid 

 of iridescence. 



Range. — Central mountains of the Malay Peninsula in Selangor and Pahang. 



THE BIRD IN ITS HAUNTS 



On the Pahang side of the divide, marked by the backbone mountain chain of the 

 Malay Peninsula, I saw my first Bronze-tailed Pheasants. Late one afternoon I 

 reached a steep landslip which, a few months before, had carried away a wide swath 

 of jungle, leaving the disintegrated rock exposed, or decorated with the new-sprouted 

 plumes of yellow-green bamboo. I had had a long, tiresome tramp and was two miles from 

 camp across a deep, dark valley. At the edge of a small open glade, sheltered by dense 

 bamboos and close to the crest of a sharp ridge, I waited for an hour or longer ; a lucky 

 hour, as it proved. After removing the usual unpleasant collection of leeches, I sat 

 quietly and watched the jungle life about me. A single tall tree leaned far out over 

 the great earthen scar, its roots half exposed, soon to loosen and end its centuries of 

 growth in an ignominious slide to the tangle far below. 



From the topmost branches several bronzed drongos were fly-catching and 

 uttering their loud, chattering song. A loud w hoof I whoof I of wings sounded close 

 overhead, and four heavy-pinioned hornbills — the bushy-headed — alighted awkwardly, 

 each striking its hollow anvil in turn, the air fairly ringing with the deep metallic 

 sound. Then one of the birds discovered me, and the four swept off again with long, 

 outstretched necks and a roar of wings. 



Ten minutes later a tupaia tree shrew ran out along a dead bamboo stem and 

 began to pull off the sheaths, poking his sharp nose under them, presumably after 

 insects. A second appeared, and thereupon ensued a fight of the fiercest character. 

 At first it was a pursuit, the two flying along bamboos, up tree-trunks and even leaping 

 three feet or more through the air. But at last they both closed on a branch and the 

 fur flew from the mass of twisting limbs and bodies. Then over they went, separated 



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