﻿COMMON 
  KOKLASS 
  PHEASANT 
  

  

  Pucrasia 
  macrolopha 
  macrolopha 
  (Lesson) 
  

  

  Names. 
  — 
  Generic 
  : 
  Pucrasia, 
  the 
  Latinized 
  vernacular 
  onomatopoetic 
  name. 
  Specific 
  : 
  'macrolopha, 
  Gk. 
  

   fia/cpos, 
  long, 
  \6(j>o<;, 
  crest, 
  long-crested. 
  English: 
  Common 
  Koklass 
  or 
  Pucras 
  Pheasant; 
  Garhwal 
  Koklass 
  ; 
  

   both 
  names 
  are 
  onomatopoetic 
  from 
  the 
  cry 
  of 
  the 
  bird. 
  French 
  : 
  Pucrasia 
  macrolophe. 
  German 
  : 
  Schopffasan. 
  

   Native 
  : 
  Phocrass 
  (Bhote 
  Parganas 
  of 
  Kumaon 
  and 
  Garhwal) 
  ; 
  Koklass, 
  Kokla 
  (Almorato 
  Simla) 
  ; 
  Koak 
  (Pahari, 
  

   Hindi, 
  Kullu, 
  Mandi) 
  ; 
  Plas, 
  Kukrola 
  (Garhwal). 
  

  

  Brief 
  Description.— 
  Male 
  : 
  Long 
  crest 
  buff 
  and 
  dark 
  green 
  ; 
  head 
  and 
  neck 
  glossy 
  dark 
  green 
  except 
  for 
  

   a 
  large 
  patch 
  of 
  white 
  on 
  the 
  side 
  neck 
  ; 
  upper 
  plumage 
  and 
  sides 
  grey, 
  the 
  wings 
  brownish, 
  most 
  of 
  the 
  feathers, 
  

   with 
  a 
  single 
  black 
  shaft-stripe 
  ; 
  centre 
  of 
  the 
  breast 
  and 
  of 
  the 
  under 
  plumage 
  dark 
  chestnut 
  ; 
  outer 
  tail-feathers 
  

   black 
  shading 
  into 
  rufous 
  on 
  the 
  outer 
  web, 
  and 
  tipped 
  with 
  white. 
  Female 
  : 
  Short 
  crest 
  and 
  upper 
  parts 
  dark, 
  

   mottled 
  with 
  sandy 
  buff, 
  with 
  a 
  pale, 
  reddish-buff 
  shaft-stripe 
  on 
  most 
  of 
  the 
  feathers 
  ; 
  chin, 
  throat 
  and 
  side 
  neck 
  

   whitish 
  ; 
  below 
  pale 
  rufous, 
  edged 
  and 
  mottled 
  with 
  black 
  ; 
  outer 
  tail-feathers 
  mostly 
  black, 
  chestnut 
  toward 
  the 
  

   base, 
  and 
  tipped 
  with 
  white. 
  

  

  Range. 
  — 
  Western 
  Himalayas, 
  from 
  Chamba 
  to 
  Kumaon. 
  

  

  THE 
  BIRD 
  IN 
  ITS 
  HAUNTS 
  

  

  I 
  reached 
  out 
  from 
  my 
  sleeping-bag 
  and 
  flashed 
  the 
  electric 
  light 
  at 
  my 
  watch. 
  

   The 
  hands 
  marked 
  three 
  o'clock. 
  It 
  was 
  early 
  morning 
  of 
  the 
  middle 
  day 
  of 
  May. 
  

   Then 
  I 
  shouted 
  to 
  my 
  native 
  boy, 
  getting 
  in 
  reply 
  a 
  sleepy, 
  "Yes, 
  Sahib," 
  and 
  a 
  deep- 
  

   drawn 
  sigh 
  of 
  despair 
  expressing 
  his 
  soul's 
  sorrow 
  that 
  such 
  long 
  hours 
  of 
  comfortable 
  

   sleep 
  should 
  be 
  sacrificed 
  to 
  merely 
  watching 
  — 
  not 
  even 
  shooting 
  — 
  the 
  pheasants 
  of 
  

   these 
  Garhwalese 
  highlands. 
  After 
  I 
  opened 
  the 
  flaps 
  of 
  the 
  tent 
  and 
  had 
  a 
  look 
  at 
  the 
  

   splendour 
  of 
  the 
  sky, 
  I 
  decided 
  to 
  go 
  alone 
  on 
  this 
  night's 
  ramble, 
  and 
  accordingly 
  

   brought 
  joy 
  to 
  my 
  servant's 
  heart 
  by 
  sending 
  him 
  back 
  to 
  his 
  blanket 
  after 
  he 
  had 
  

   brought 
  me 
  water 
  and 
  cocoa. 
  But 
  Hadzia 
  the 
  hillman 
  loomed 
  up 
  in 
  the 
  darkness 
  and 
  

   without 
  comment 
  followed 
  quietly 
  after 
  me. 
  In 
  my 
  sweater 
  and 
  khaki 
  I 
  seemed 
  to 
  be 
  a 
  

   part 
  of 
  the 
  cool 
  darkness 
  about 
  me, 
  and 
  my 
  leather 
  moccasins 
  made 
  not 
  a 
  sound 
  on 
  the 
  

   turf 
  of 
  the 
  valley. 
  Steadily 
  I 
  climbed 
  up, 
  up, 
  to 
  the 
  saddle 
  of 
  the 
  ridge 
  and 
  there 
  

   squatted, 
  Indian 
  fashion, 
  to 
  get 
  my 
  bearings 
  and 
  decide 
  upon 
  my 
  route. 
  Day 
  after 
  

   day 
  I 
  had 
  penetrated 
  farther 
  and 
  farther 
  into 
  this 
  Himalayan 
  wilderness, 
  with 
  no 
  halts 
  

   for 
  observation, 
  and 
  now 
  that 
  I 
  had 
  reached 
  the 
  haunts 
  of 
  not 
  one, 
  but 
  three 
  or 
  four 
  

   pheasants 
  — 
  the 
  Koklass, 
  the 
  kaleege, 
  the 
  impeyan, 
  the 
  cheer 
  — 
  I 
  gave 
  up 
  every 
  particle 
  

   of 
  my 
  being 
  to 
  absorbing 
  the 
  very 
  atmosphere 
  — 
  their 
  haunts, 
  habits, 
  life, 
  that 
  was 
  what 
  

   I 
  wished 
  to 
  sense. 
  To 
  all 
  intents 
  and 
  purposes 
  I 
  became 
  a 
  pheasant 
  myself. 
  

  

  I 
  seemed 
  to 
  rest 
  upon 
  the 
  very 
  summit 
  of 
  the 
  world, 
  a 
  shrubby 
  slope 
  dropping 
  

   away 
  behind, 
  and 
  the 
  deodar 
  forest 
  in 
  front 
  sloping 
  downward, 
  its 
  file 
  upon 
  file 
  of 
  tall 
  

   ghostly 
  forms 
  showing 
  dimly 
  through 
  the 
  translucent 
  darkness. 
  The 
  stars 
  were 
  brilliant 
  

   and 
  the 
  Milky 
  Way 
  showed 
  like 
  a 
  luminous 
  cloud. 
  In 
  the 
  East 
  the 
  great 
  train 
  of 
  

  

  