The Almost Irresistible Thrill

Cotton protects the little bunting, whose bright colors have faded with the passing of almost a century, and it would seem that the Sylvia Montana, which is something like the blackthroated bunting, but has a white throat, also resembles the English sparrow. But the latter was not imported until around 1853, twenty years after the Townsend's bunting was found. If it is a hybrid, as some have imagined, of what species is it a cross? Or is the species of which this appears to be the only example now extinct? It is this baffling element of mystery that so allures the amateur, as well as the expert ornithologist and botanist, in his study of Nature.

It provides an almost irresistible thrill, and the mere fact that a rare species of flower or tree, salamander, or bird is known to be rare or missing, at once makes it a goal for all to aim at, and thus even a short walk in the region where such prizes might reasonably hope to be located, affords an added attraction to the student and impels him to keep open and watchful his eyes.

For example, an enthusiast living in certain regions of the Carolinas may gain added pleasure from his rambles when he recalls that it was here that Audubon first saw the beautiful little warbler that he named for his friend, Dr. Bachman, and which was so long a rarity. Experts all over the country combed the forests, but upwards of sixty years had passed before it was finally located once more, and strangely enough, in two widely different sections, far from its original locality. Perhaps the greatest gem of the entire world of missing birds might be said to be the mystery pheasant that no one has seen, as far as known, and of which practically no information seems to be available.

The sole clue appears to be a portion of wing feather that was found many years ago by accident, among some loose Argus feathers in the collection of the British Museum. On investigation, this male primary wing feather appeared to be so entirely dissimilar to that of the known species that the curator had no hesitation in recognizing it as belonging to a species not yet known to science.

This feather was reddish-brown, with a band minutely dotted with white on the outer, as well as on the inner web, and the species was named by Wood, ‘Argus bipunctatus’ to distinguish it from the wellknown Argus pheasant, from the Malay Peninsula. Nearly sixty years have passed since the naming of this pheasant, but no further details have come to hand of this bird that naturalists all over the world have wanted to find, and for which at least one notable expedition searched the most likely places in vain.