Pheasant Jungles Author:William Beebe PHEASANT JUNGLES BY WILLIAM BEEBE DIRECTOR OF TROPICAL RESEARCH OF THE NEW YORK ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY ILLUSTRATED BLUE RIBBON BOOKS, INC. New Yorl City The Dramatic Chief of Sin-Ma-How Pointing out the best stalking ground for the rare pheasants which live near the meeting place of Burma, Tibet and China see page 122 To CYNTHIA DRYDEN KUSER PREFACE... more » WHEN I spent seventeen months in the Far East gathering material for a Monograph of the Pheas ants I naturally devoted all possible time and energy to the accomplishment of this object. But the human senses are not wholly concerned with direct impressions, and sometimes the oblique, corona-like visual and aural contacts are afterwards all the more vivid for being at the time semi-sub consciously received. Portions of the chapters in this volume, have ap peared in The Atlantic and Harpers Magazine, but all have been rewritten. The natural history of the pheasants I have recorded elsewhere. These pages have to do with a few of my adventures, servants and thoughts as they came to me in Cey lon, Sikhim, Garhwal, Burma, Tibet, Yunnan, Pahang and Borneo. This was the first important scientific under taking which I made as Director of the Depart ment of Tropical Research of the New York Zoological Society. W. B. CONTENTS PAGB I. THE GATES OF THE EAST ..... 3 II. THE PHEASANTS OF KINCHIN JUKOA. . . 41 III. THE HILLS OF HILLS ..... 65 IV. WILD BURMA 97 V. SERVANTS AND SUPER-SERVANTS . . .139 VI. FROM SEA TO MOUNTAIN-TOP IN MALAYSIA . 161 VII. MALAY DAYS 190 VIII. WITH THE DYAKS OF BORNEO .... 209 INDEX 245 Yll PHEASANT JUNGLES Pheasant Jungles THE GATES OF THE EAST GOING over Niagara Falls in a barrel has now no terrors for me the memory of two wing-slips and a vicious tail-spin has been made more vivid the experience of being fired from a torpedo tube is not unimaginable for in His Majestys mail boat Isis, I have wallowed and plunged through a forty-eight hour Mediterranean cyclone, from Brindisi to Port Said. Only one other experience has ever laid me low a typhoon and a junk in the China Sea but then I had at least an unlimited supply of ships biscuits. These thoughts came to me in the heart of a hot tropical night when I took a blanket from my stateroom and went up on the deck of the Lady McCallum to sleep. The Lady McCaLlum, a small, compact, untidy coast steamer from Colombo, was bound for Hambantotta, Ceylon. She was true to her type over all the world and appeared to take no pride in her work, moving along at a negligible rate amid a generous creaking that arose from some mysterious depths amidships. 3« less