
" From November to April these birds are found all over the
well-wooded parts of the district; and during the rainy season
they retire to the dense forests and bamboo jungle to breed, and
at this season the call is never heard.
" I have shot dozens of this bird, some of which had two
and three spurs, but in no case did I ever see more than four
on one leg, and one peculiarity is, that they hardly ever have the
same number of spurs on each leg. The Kookies have an idea
that an additional spur grows every year, but during the five
years' experience I had of them, I never saw more than the
number mentioned above. The females have a corn on each
leg where the spur is in the male.
" These birds go about in pairs generally, but on one occasion,
in December, while riding through a forest pathway, I
came across a party of four, one male and three females, the
latter easily distinguishable by their smaller size and duller
colours.
" As a rule, these Pheasants are very shy and terrible runners
and skulks, and without a good dog it is impossible to secure a
winged bird. They arc delicious eating. The Kookies and Danghar
coolies in the Cachar tea gardens know this bird by the
name of " Paisa-walla-majur." The Kookies are very ingenious
in their methods of trapping birds; the common springtrap,
so well known at home, is universally used, and for securing
birds on their nests, where these are on the ground, the grass
conical basket, mentioned further on, is adopted, the green
ulu grass being used. The spring-traps are baited with a crimson
seed, which is obtained from a forest tree."
Darling reports that he "saw a great number of this Pheasant
in the Thowngyah Hills (Tenasserim)," and not unfrcqucntly
in company with the Lineated Pheasant.
" I generally noticed them," he says, " in parties of two, three,
or four, but once coming round a sharp corner, I stumbled
upon eight of them, employed in scratching up a lot of fresh
elephant's dung.
" I only managed to procure a pair. The male I shot. Prowling
about the jungle in the morning for birds, I saw a dark object
scuttling through the bushes, and fired and picked up, to my great
delight, a fine male. The hen, I snared, and in rather a strange
way. I found three holes of the porcupine rat (of which I got
two specimens) communicating with one another; the entrance
to one of these holes was nearly 3 feet in diameter and some 4
feet in depth, decreasing, as the hole deepened horizontally into
the hill side, to about 8 inches. I set a slip noose with a springer
in the small part of the hole. On looking next morning,
instead of, as I expected, finding the rat, there were only a
number of the feathers of a male of this species. I set the trap
again, and that evening got nothing ; next morning I found a
hen hanging by her legs in the trap.
" They feed in the thick clumps, on seeds, insects and shells,
go about in a perfectly noiseless manner, and arc very hard to
flush, disappearing like magic if disturbed. At the report of a
gun they cry out qua, but this is t h e only call I have heard them
utter."
Col. Williamson says : " This species, though not often seen,
and only to be shot with the aid of dogs, who speedily ' tree' it,
is found all over the Garo Hills, where it is a permanent resident.
I have shot it on the Tura Range of Hills, which attain an
elevation of 4,600 feet."
I H A V E as yet entirely failed to obtain the eggs of this species,
but to judge from experience obtained in captivity, the females
produce two or three broods in a year, and lay only two eggs
to a sitting. In a wild state they probably lay more eggs, and
only once a year. The eggs laid in captivity are described as
" peculiarly delicate in form and colour, assimilating very closely
to those of the Golden Pheasant, of a creamy or buffy white, and
measuring 2 inches in length by 1*44 in breadth."
Mr. Clarke, whom I have already quoted, says :—
" I once had the good fortune to find a nest containing hardset
eggs of this species in t h e month of May, the exact date
I forget. I took these and set them under a domestic hen, and in a
week's time one egg hatched, the others went bad.
" The nest was placed at the foot of a large bush, which stood
amongst 'sonc' grass and small cane jungle, on undulating ground.
The female flew off the nest on our approach, when the Kookie
shikari who was with me, said he would catch the bird. He
made a cone-shaped basket of grass, put it over the nest and retired
with me to a short distance. After about 15 minutes we approached
stealthily and threw a cloth over the basket, securing the bird
which had returned to the nest while we were away, and lifting
the edge of the cone had crept inside.
" The eggs were of a cafe an lait colour ; the nest was circular,
about 9 inches in diameter and 3 inches in depth, made of twigs
and leaves roughly put together, with an apology of a lining of
the bird's own feathers, and possessed sufficient cohesion to permit
of its removal, eggs and all, to my bungalow. The youner
one that was hatched was covered with greyish down and looked
very much like a fowl chicken. Notwithstanding all my care, it
died in a week's time."
We are told that when the young of this species were first
hatched in the Zoological Gardens, a Bantam hen was employed
as a foster mother, and that the chicks would follow close behind
her, never coming in front to take food, so that, in scratching
the ground, she frequently struck them with her feet. The
reason for the young keeping in her rear was not understood
until, on a subsequent occasion, two chicks were reared by a