Not to weaken my argument with too many general statements, let me take at once some concrete cases.  First, that of the Himalayan pheasants and game-birds.  In a recent interesting article by E.P.  Stebbing[H] the past, present and hoped-for future of game birds and animals in India is reviewed.  Unfortunately, however, most of the finest creatures in Asia live beyond the border of the British sphere of influence, and though within sight, are absolutely beyond reach of civilized law.  The heart of the Himalayas,—­the haunts of some of the most beautiful birds in the world, the tragopans, the blood and impeyan pheasants—­lies within the limits of Nepal, a little country which time and time again has bade defiance to British attacks, and still maintains its independence.  From its northern border Mt.  Everest looks down from its most exalted of all earthly summits and sees valley after valley depleted of first one bird and then another.  I have seen and lived with Nepalese shepherds who have nothing to do month after month but watch their flocks.  In the lofty solitudes time hangs heavy on their hands, and with true oriental patience they weave loop after loop of yak-hair snares, and then set them, not in dozens or scores, but in hundreds and thousands up and down the valleys.

[Footnote H:  “Game Sanctuaries and Game Protection in India,” Proc.  Zool.  Soc., London, 1912. pp. 23-35.]

In one locality seven great valleys had been completely cleared of pheasants, only a single pair of tragopans remaining; and from one of these little brown men I took two hundred nooses which had been prepared for these lone survivors.  In these cases, the birds were either cooked and eaten at once, or sold to some passing shepherd or lama for a few annas.  But in other parts of this unknown land systematic collecting of skins goes on, for bale after bale of impeyan and red argus (tragopan) pheasant skins goes down to the Calcutta wharves, where its infamous contents, though known, are safe from seizure under the Nepal Raja’s seal!  Thus it is that the London feather sales still list these among the most splendid of all living birds.  And shame upon shame, when we read of 80 impeyan skins “dull,” or “slightly defective,” we know that these are female birds.  Then, if ever, we realize that the time of the bird and the beast is passing, the acme of evolution for these wonderful beings is reached, and at most we can preserve only a small fragment of them.

To the millinery hunter, what the egret is to America, and the bird of paradise to New Guinea, the impeyan pheasant is to India—­the most coveted of all plumages.  There is a great tendency to blame the native hunter for the decrease of this and other pheasants, and from what I have personally seen in many parts of the Himalayas there is no question that the Garwhalese and Nepalese hill-men have wrought havoc among the birds.  But these men are by no means the sole cause.  As long ago as 1879 we read that