﻿172 
  A 
  MONOGRAPH 
  OF 
  THE 
  PHEASANTS 
  

  

  picture 
  which 
  will 
  never 
  fade 
  from 
  my 
  mind. 
  Behind 
  him 
  the 
  soft 
  greens 
  and 
  greys 
  of 
  

   the 
  forest 
  ; 
  above, 
  the 
  clear 
  blue 
  sky 
  ; 
  in 
  the 
  distance, 
  across 
  the 
  valley, 
  the 
  purpling 
  

   ranges, 
  and 
  there, 
  in 
  the 
  centre, 
  the 
  splendid 
  bird 
  glowing 
  in 
  the 
  sunlight, 
  reflecting 
  now 
  

   crimson, 
  now 
  gold 
  from 
  his 
  plumage, 
  and 
  as 
  he 
  turns 
  there 
  flashes 
  out, 
  as 
  strong 
  to 
  the 
  

   eye 
  as 
  the 
  gleam 
  from 
  a 
  heliograph, 
  the 
  patch 
  of 
  pure 
  white 
  feathers 
  upon 
  his 
  back. 
  No 
  

   protective 
  colouring 
  here 
  — 
  a 
  glowing 
  form 
  of 
  living 
  copper 
  and 
  white. 
  From 
  my 
  

   position 
  the 
  hen 
  is 
  very 
  conspicuous, 
  but 
  when 
  she 
  steps 
  down 
  among 
  the 
  rocks 
  and 
  

   half-dead 
  grass, 
  she 
  is 
  easily 
  lost, 
  and 
  when 
  she 
  has 
  gone 
  some 
  distance 
  down 
  the 
  

   slope 
  I 
  have 
  to 
  keep 
  careful 
  watch. 
  As 
  long 
  as 
  she 
  moves, 
  however, 
  she 
  is 
  easy 
  to 
  

   detect. 
  

  

  If 
  I 
  found 
  her 
  difficult 
  to 
  follow, 
  another 
  pair 
  of 
  eyes 
  did 
  not, 
  and 
  the 
  birds 
  

   had 
  reached 
  a 
  flat, 
  rocky 
  terrace, 
  when 
  there 
  occurred 
  one 
  of 
  the 
  most 
  spectacular 
  

   incidents 
  in 
  all 
  my 
  pheasant 
  watching. 
  Without 
  the 
  least 
  hint 
  of 
  warning, 
  something 
  

   hurled 
  itself 
  over 
  the 
  nearest 
  summit 
  of 
  the 
  ridge 
  and 
  hurtled 
  past 
  me 
  with 
  a 
  whistling 
  

   scream 
  of 
  pinions 
  which 
  startled 
  me 
  beyond 
  control. 
  I 
  thrust 
  out 
  my 
  head, 
  upsetting 
  

   camera 
  and 
  notebook, 
  just 
  in 
  time 
  to 
  see 
  a 
  golden 
  eagle 
  strike 
  the 
  hen 
  pheasant 
  — 
  or 
  one 
  

   of 
  them, 
  for 
  the 
  other 
  two 
  birds 
  had 
  appeared 
  — 
  and 
  fall 
  with 
  it 
  to 
  the 
  ground. 
  The 
  

   great 
  wings 
  of 
  the 
  bird 
  of 
  prey 
  were 
  widespread 
  as 
  it 
  struck 
  the 
  earth, 
  and 
  such 
  was 
  its 
  

   impetus 
  that 
  its 
  head 
  and 
  beak 
  were 
  for 
  a 
  moment 
  flattened 
  among 
  the 
  low-growing 
  

   plants. 
  Recovering 
  itself, 
  it 
  then 
  freed 
  one 
  foot, 
  and 
  with 
  wings 
  half 
  spread, 
  hopped 
  

   awkwardly 
  to 
  the 
  rim 
  of 
  the 
  ledge. 
  Here 
  it 
  shook 
  itself 
  and 
  searched 
  the 
  valley 
  in 
  all 
  

   directions 
  for 
  many 
  minutes 
  before 
  it 
  took 
  notice 
  of 
  the 
  ruffled 
  bundle 
  of 
  feathers 
  which 
  

   it 
  clasped 
  in 
  its 
  talons. 
  

  

  Quick 
  as 
  the 
  onslaught 
  had 
  been, 
  the 
  pheasant 
  must 
  have 
  leaped 
  into 
  the 
  air, 
  for 
  

   my 
  first 
  view 
  was 
  of 
  the 
  moment 
  of 
  attack, 
  when 
  both 
  birds 
  were 
  several 
  feet 
  above 
  the 
  

   ground. 
  I 
  had 
  no 
  eyes 
  for 
  the 
  other 
  birds, 
  which 
  escaped 
  unheeded 
  in 
  the 
  excitement. 
  

   All 
  nature 
  seemed 
  to 
  realize 
  that 
  a 
  tragedy 
  had 
  taken 
  place, 
  and 
  for 
  many 
  minutes 
  not 
  a 
  

   twitter 
  or 
  chirp 
  reached 
  my 
  ear, 
  not 
  a 
  living 
  creature 
  other 
  than 
  the 
  eagle 
  was 
  in 
  sight. 
  

  

  It 
  seemed 
  as 
  if 
  the 
  eagle 
  must 
  have 
  known 
  the 
  pheasants 
  were 
  somewhere 
  on 
  the 
  

   hillside, 
  and 
  blindly 
  hurled 
  himself 
  over 
  the 
  crest, 
  trusting 
  to 
  his 
  wonderful 
  eyesight 
  

   and 
  instantaneous 
  reaction 
  of 
  every 
  muscle. 
  It 
  was 
  the 
  most 
  marvellous 
  exhibition 
  of 
  

   aerial 
  control 
  I 
  have 
  ever 
  witnessed. 
  Had 
  the 
  danger 
  been 
  less 
  unexpected, 
  the 
  hens 
  

   would 
  probably 
  have 
  squatted 
  and 
  the 
  cock 
  would 
  have 
  paid 
  the 
  penalty, 
  for 
  that 
  

   immaculate 
  speculum 
  would 
  have 
  been 
  as 
  certain 
  of 
  detection 
  against 
  the 
  green 
  as 
  a 
  

   flash-light. 
  But 
  theorize 
  as 
  I 
  might 
  I 
  had 
  witnessed 
  a 
  real 
  wilderness 
  tragedy. 
  

  

  Some 
  slight 
  movement 
  on 
  my 
  part 
  drew 
  the 
  attention 
  of 
  the 
  eagle, 
  and 
  without 
  

   effort 
  he 
  leaned 
  forward, 
  spread 
  his 
  pinions 
  and 
  floated 
  off 
  into 
  the 
  blue 
  air, 
  still 
  holding 
  

   the 
  pheasant, 
  and 
  instantly 
  dropped 
  below 
  my 
  range 
  of 
  vision, 
  never 
  to 
  enter 
  it 
  again. 
  

  

  GENERAL 
  DISTRIBUTION 
  

  

  I 
  found 
  typical 
  ijimae 
  in 
  the 
  three 
  most 
  southern 
  provinces 
  of 
  Kiusiu, 
  Osumi, 
  

   Hyuga 
  and 
  Satsuma. 
  The 
  birds 
  are 
  not 
  abundant 
  anywhere, 
  but 
  occur 
  in 
  fair 
  numbers 
  

   on 
  the 
  small 
  mountainous 
  island 
  of 
  Sakurajima, 
  near 
  Kagoshima. 
  The 
  centre 
  of 
  their 
  

   distribution 
  may 
  be 
  said 
  to 
  be 
  the 
  mountain 
  of 
  Kirishima. 
  

  

  