



Following genetic research, guineafowl have been removed from Phasianidae, and are now considered a separate family, Numididae (see bottom of this page).
The generic name is the classical Latin word for the domestic chicken.
By 3900 B.C., chickens were present in Iran, by about 2400 B.C. in Turkey and Syria, and by 2000 B.C. in Spain. They were present about 1400 B.C. in Egypt, where they were called “the bird that gives birth every day” – in allusion to the prolific egg-laying of the species. In West Africa, Iron Age farmers in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Ghana were keeping domesticated chickens from about 500 A.D.
From Southeast Asia, sailors brought chickens to the Polynesian islands about 1300 B.C., and in Chile, remains of domesticated chickens, dating from c. 1350 A.D., have been excavated. Before these excavations, it was believed that the first chickens to arrive in the Americas were brought by Columbus on his second voyage in 1493. Chickens arrived in Australia with the First Fleet, bringing settlers to the continent in 1788.
Today, the chicken is the most numerous and widespread domestic animal, with a total population of more than 19 billion. Chickens are kept primarily as a source of food, both meat and eggs.
Roosters can be very aggressive. Below is an excerpt from the memoirs of my father, Jens Christen Pedersen: “The caretaker of Tåning co-op shop had humour. He kept chickens at the other side of the road, including a handsome rooster. One day he told me to bring the sweepings from the warehouse to the chickens. Usually he did that himself, but I soon found out why he wanted me to do it. When I entered the chicken yard, the rooster at once jumped on me, so that I had to retreat in a hurry and close the door. Meanwhile, the caretaker was bent double with laughter.”
It is often said that chickens are stupid, but I have a true story which shows that chickens are able to reason. In 1980, Thomas Læssøe was working in Nature Reserve Vorsø, Horsens Fjord, Denmark. They had chickens, which were ushered into the hen house every evening, and the door was closed, so that fox or marten couldn’t get in.
One evening, after dark, Thomas was working at the typewriter, when he heard a pecking sound from the window. Looking up, he saw a hen outside, looking in. When he went outside, the hen came running round the house corner to be let into the hen house. It seems that it had been too late to be let in with the other hens.
Thus, the hen must have been reasoning like this: “There is light in this window. Light is connected with those two-legged creatures that let us into the hen house. If I peck on the window, one of these creatures will probably come and let me in.”




















In the early 1900s, it was a common belief in the American South that a rooster contributed to peace in the barnyard.














In rural Sri Lankan belief, the male’s distinctive crow at dawn, cor-cor-chow, is variously regarded as communication with other forest spirits, or as “an angel who foretells the dawn”.
The specific name, applied in 1831 by French surgeon and naturalist René Primevère Lesson (1794-1849), was given in honour of French aristocrat and military officer Marie-Joseph Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette (1757-1834), who is regarded as a hero in the United States, where he fought in the American Revolutionary War, commanding revolutionary troops in several battles. After returning to France, he was a key figure in the French Revolution of 1789 and the July Revolution of 1830.



The generic name is derived from the Ancient Greek alektoris (‘chicken’).
The specific and popular names refer to the bird’s call, a far-reaching chuck-chuck-chukar-chukar.
In ancient Byzantine mosaics, the chukar is primarily depicted as a game bird, and it was often used as a hunting decoy.
In Sanskrit, the bird is known as Chakora Pakshi, and according to the Hindu epic Mahabharata, seeing one was considered a sign of good luck. In some regions of India, keeping a chukar is still thought to bring good luck.
An Indian legend relates that it is in love with the moon, gazing at it endlessly and feeding on its beams.
In Pakistani folklore, it is a symbol of strength and perseverance, and it is the national bird of the country.
In Iraqi Kurdistan, the chukar is a national emblem, featuring prominently in local art and culture. It also represents resilience and freedom – a reflection of the enduring spirit of the Kurdish people who have been suppressed for hundreds of years. (More about this issue on the page Travel episodes – Iran & Turkey 1973: “Kurdistan! Bum-bum-zip!”)


The generic name is derived from Ancient Greek lophos (‘crest’) and oura (‘tail’), alluding to the crest and large tail of these birds.
The shrill alarm call of the Kalij is considered one of the most reliable indicators of the presence of predators like leopards and tigers.
It is a symbol of beauty and grace in local folklore in many parts of the Himalaya, and has been chosen as the state bird of Jammu and Kashmir, called Wan Kokur in Kashmiri, which means ‘wild cock’.
The red patch of bare skin around the eye is sometimes considered to be shaped like a heart, and thus a symbol of love.
The specific name is derived from Ancient Greek leukos (‘white’) and melanos (‘black’), alluding to the males of most subspecies having white and black in the plumage.
The common name is mostly regarded as a distortion of Hindi kalgi (‘crest’). It was spelled kaleege in some older works. Others maintain that the specific name is derived from Hindi kali (‘black’).

To lure this colourful bird closer, many Taiwanese photographers strew maize or other food items near roads or trails, often causing it to become remarkably tame.




“You are so tiny! You might get blown away by the wind! The other birds are soaring high up in the sky, only you are strutting about on the ground. You must be a weak bird that can’t fly as well as them!”
The giant laughed loudly, but the pheasant puffed up his chest in indignance and said, “Being big and strong doesn’t give you the right to make fun of others! I may be small but I am strong! If we have a competition, you might not beat me!”
The giant thought for a while and then pointed to a boulder, saying, “Let’s see who can lift that boulder.”
The pheasant replied, “I accept your challenge! Be prepared to lose!”
They asked an elder to be their witness, and the competition began. The giant was first, but he could barely lift the boulder with his two hands. With sweat pouring down his face, he said, “This boulder is too heavy! I can’t move it.”
Now it was the pheasant’s turn. He lifted the boulder with only one wing, while the other wing remained folded along his body. As he lifted the boulder, he made this sound: “Mu-mu-mu.”
So the pheasant won the competition. The giant felt ashamed of himself and told the pheasant, “I am sorry for making fun of you. I will not make fun of others anymore.”
Still today, the pheasant makes its mu-mu sounds when it moves small stones around, and for this reason the Bunun people call it Mumu.
The generic name is the classical Greek word for the helmeted guineafowl (see Numida below), and that it was used for the turkey was caused by its superficial resemblance to the guineafowl. In his book The Helm Dictionary of Scientific Bird Names (2010), James Jobling writes: “The names Turkeycock and Turkeyhen were used for guineafowl in the 16th and early 17th Centuries, because they were brought from Africa to Europe through the Ottoman or Turkish dominions, and by this confusion Linnaeus used the generic term Meleagris for the American turkey, which was unknown to the ancients. When the guineafowl and turkey were subsequently distinguished as separate species, turkey was erroneously retained for the American bird.”
Since reintroduction programs were initiated, the species has bounced back, and a loose estimate puts its present number at 7 million individuals. Today, it even occurs in areas of Canada, where it was not found previously.
Native Americans domesticated turkeys twice, in south-central Mexico around 800 B.C., and again in south-western North America around 200 B.C. Initially, they were raised for their feathers, but around 1100 A.D. they began eating the birds.
Today, domesticated forms are kept in many parts of the world.
The specific name is derived from the Latin gallus (‘domestic hen’) and pavo (‘peacock’), applied in 1555 by Swiss physician, naturalist, and philologist Conrad Gessner (1516-1565), because the overall appearance of the turkey is that of a fowl, but in its size and bright tail it resembles a peacock. Gessner’s life is described on the page People: Famous naturalists.





A blanket, painstakingly made with about 11,500 turkey feathers, can be dated back to around 1200 A.D.
In Aztec mythology, Chalchiuhtotolin (‘Jade Turkey’) was the god of disease and plague. In Hopi religion, Koyona was a turkey deity who appeared as a turkey katsina (a spirit represented by a puppet), dancing with other katsina birds in late-spring Mixed Dances where it symbolized fertility, vitality, and the connection to nature.
In 2012, archaeologists discovered a mass grave of more than 50 turkeys near a 1,000-year-old village in Colorado. The bodies had been carefully arranged within a circle of stones, indicating a ceremonial burial.
One legend relates that First Man and First Woman noticed a turkey eating the golden kernels of maize. They realized that they were edible and began cultivating the plants for food.
The turkey was an essential element in many Cherokee ceremonies, and turkey meat was consumed during annual religious festivals. When a new chief was inaugurated, large turkey-feather fans were waved over him. Beautiful capes were worn during important ceremonies, made from turkey feathers that were sewn overlapping onto skins or cloth. Spurs from the male were fastened to warrior’s moccasins and the long stems on their war pipes. The turkey dance mimicked the movements of both hunter and turkey.
A Cherokee legend explains some of the unique features of the turkey.
“That scalp doesn’t look right on you,” said Turkey. “Your neck is too short and low down to wear it that way. Let me show you.”
After putting the scalp around his own neck, Turkey began walking and then broke into a run, escaping with the scalp, which, in time, became his ‘beard’, in reality a tuft of black, hanging breast feathers. However, before he had gone too far, Terrapin, furious about his loss, shot Turkey in the legs with cane splints. [Here we have an explanation of the numerous splintered bones in a turkey leg.]
The Cherokees say that the turkey’s bald, red head was caused by its head feathers being singed off when it helped bring fire to the world.
The turkey got its strange voice when it wanted to have a loud voice like the grouse, which got its fine collar of dark feathers from the turkey in exchange for giving it voice lessons.
“I’ll stand on this hollow log, and when I give the signal by tapping on it, you must shout as loudly as you can,” instructed the grouse.
But when the grouse suddenly drummed on the log, the turkey got so startled that all it could emit was “gobble, gobble, gobble.” That’s why, when the male hears a sudden noise in the woods, he can only gobble.
A study from 2011 indicated that this species made up a substantial part of the diet of four ethnic groups on the Yucatan Peninsula.
The ocellated turkey is often depicted in Mayan artwork, and carcasses of the birds have been found as offerings in the tombs of Mayan chiefs.
An episode in Mayan mythology relates that the nightjar lent his splendid plumage to the turkey when he approached the Great Ancestor Nohochacyum to be appointed king of the birds. However, the turkey didn’t give back the plumage to the nightjar, causing him to complain to Nohochacyum, who punished the turkey by changing his once-melodious voice to guttural sounds.
The Mayans also associated the turkey with rain and fertility. The Chʼorti tribe would strew its blood on their fields to obtain a good harvest.
The specific name is Latin, meaning ‘marked with small eyes’, derived from ocellus (‘small eye’), diminutive of oculus (‘eye’). The name refers to the pattern at the end of the tail feathers, which have been likened to the ‘eyes’ on the tail feathers of the peacock (Pavo cristatus).



The generic name is the classical Latin word for peafowl.
It has been introduced to many other parts of the world as a status symbol or a pet. It figures in Indian mythology, and as it is revered and protected, it often becomes very confiding. In some parts of Asia, it is regarded as a forest protector, as its loud call is often an indication of the presence of predators like tiger og leopard.
The specific name is Latin, meaning ‘crested’.
The classical Greek word for peacock was taos, derived from Persian tavus. The famous Peacock Throne, in Persian known as Takht-i-Tavus, was a splendid piece of Mughal workmanship, covered in gold and jewels. It was commissioned in the early 17th Century by Emperor Shah Jahan (1592-1666), and located in the Diwan-i-Khas (Audience Hall) in the Red Fort in Delhi. It got its name from two dancing peacocks, depicted at its rear.
By the beginning of the 18th Century, the power of the Mughal Empire was crumbling, and in 1739 Nader Shah (1688-1747), a Turkoman Muslim from north-eastern Iran, invaded Delhi with his army, killing tens of thousands of its inhabitants. When they left in 1739, they brought with them the Peacock Throne and many other valuables as war trophies. When Nader Shah was assassinated by his own officers in 1747, the throne disappeared, most probably being destroyed for its valuables.




In Buddhism, it is regarded as a bird of spiritual purity, which devours the ‘3 poisons’ (greed, anger, and ignorance).
In Greek mythology, the peacock was sacred to the supreme goddess Hera. Peacocks pulled her chariot, and the bird was said to bear the hundred eyes of Argus, the giant guardian of Hera, symbolizing the stars.
In Ancient Rome, the peacock was associated with immortality, and it was a funeral symbol, believed to ensure rebirth.
Christians saw the bird as a symbol of Christ’s resurrection and immortality, as its flesh was thought imperishable.
Princess Manohara is the youngest daughter of the king of the Kinnaras, part human and part bird, who live in a divine realm on Mount Kailash, Tibet. One day, visiting the human realm, Manohara is caught in a hunter’s magic noose. The hunter gives her to Prince Sudhana, son of King Adityavamsa and Queen Chandradevi, and heir to the Panchala Kingdom.
The prince falls in love with Manohara, and they get married. Some time later, when the prince is away in battle, Manohara is accused by the royal counselor of bringing bad luck to the city and is sentenced to death. Before this can happen, she assumes her peacock form and escapes, flying back to the Kinnara Kingdom.
When the prince returns to Panchala, he attempts to find her. From a hermit, he learns the language of animals to locate the Kinnara Kingdom, and also the necessary prayers to win back the princess. After the long and arduous journey, which takes 7 years, 7 months, and 7 days, he approaches the Kinnara king who asks him to prove his sincerity by passing various tests assessing strength, perseverance, and wit. First, he must lift a stone bench in the garden, next he must show his skill with bow and arrow, and the final test is to identify which of 7 identical women is Manohara. However, he is able to recognize her by a ring on her finger. Satisfied, the Kinnara king consents to their marriage, and the couple returns to Panchala.

The generic name was introduced in 1758 by Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus (1707-1778), derived from Ancient Greek phasianos, which means ‘(bird) of the Phasis’. Phasis was the classical Greek name of the Rioni River, which originates in the Caucasus and empties into the Black Sea on the eastern Colchian coast (now in western Georgia). Colchis was made famous through the legend of Jason and his Argonauts searching for the Golden Fleece. They set foot on the banks of the Phasis River and found pheasants there. This legend is described on the page Animals – Animals in culture and religion: Bovidae.
The introduction of this foreign element to many European estates had serious consequences for the indigenous fauna, causing all species which might threaten the pheasants, to be exterminated with all resources available.
In 1934, a Danish book was published, entitled Fasandyret (‘The Pheasant Animal’), which was the hitherto most polemic book about hunting in Denmark, written by Danish author Svend Fleuron (1874-1966). The book, written as a novel, caused a great stir in hunting circles, because Fleuron accused estate owners and their hunting staffs for illegal and ruthless extermination of huntable as well as protected carnivores and raptors, which might constitute a threat to “this noisy, Mongolian dragon”.
The plot takes place among the hunting staff of a Danish estate, the main characters being hunting trainee Knudsen and his boss, who is nicknamed ‘The Bomb’, because he often ”explodes” when correcting his staff.
Knudsen arrives from the countryside with a genuine love of nature and its creatures, and he enters the job with romantic ideas about hunting and the free life in nature. However, his dreams soon evaporate as he discovers that a large part of his job is to exterminate carnivores and raptors, owls, hedgehogs, corvids, dogs, and cats, using illegal methods.
Just arrived, Knudsen is called to a meeting with ‘The Bomb’, who informs him that the reward for killing a fox is 5 kr., for killing a goshawk 2 kr., and for presenting a pair of buzzard feet, or the tail of a weasel or a cat, 1 kr. [These amounts were quite a lot of money in 1934.]
He must pay for the cartridges himself.
”But only a stupid trainee uses the gun too often”, says his boss, ”steel-jaws and other traps are cheaper to use, and you can have as many of them as you want for free. And then there is also poison. The bottle with strychnine is on the shelf in the shed at the pheasant enclosure. But you must be careful not to lick on your fingers when you have used it. On this estate, we exterminate all raptors, and we also regard buzzards and owls as raptors, disregarding the protection regulations”.
A few days later, Knudsen by chance asks hunting assistant Hundstrup about the protection regulations for the raven, and he replies, ”I don’t remember the protection regulations, only the regulations of the estate”.
Initially, Knudsen loathes his job, but as time goes by he comes to terms with it, based on the principle: noble game must be protected, and then there is the rewards for killed predators. Slowly Knudsen, nature’s cheerful son, becomes brutal and reckless.
Shortly after the publication of the book, a Danish estate owner wrote the following to Svend Fleuron: “You should not besmirch an entire group of people, because there may be a few black sheep in this as well as any other profession.”
A few?
Still today, the extermination of carnivores and raptors takes place at many European estates.






In Taiwanese folklore, it is called ‘king of the mist’, as it is known to appear when the mountains are shrouded in fog.
Among some of the indigenous Malayan tribes of the island, the long tail feathers of the male were formerly used as decoration on their headdresses.
The generic name is derived from Ancient Greek syrmatos, a robe with a long train, alluding to the very long tail of this bird. The specific name is Japanese, meaning ’emperor’, and its Chinese name 帝雉translates to ’emperor pheasant’.



The common name originates from the Guinea Coast of West Africa, where these birds were first encountered and domesticated by Europeans.
The vulturine guineafowl (Acryllium vulturinum) is described on the page Animals – Birds: Birds in Africa.
This species is a popular pet in many parts of the world.
The generic name was the Roman name of Africa, whereas the specific name was the classical Greek term for guineafowl.
The popular name refers to the naked, bony crest, which is not unlike certain types of Middle Age helmets.



One day, First Man and First Woman found a grove of palm trees with ripe dates, and First Man climbed up one of them and began hacking with his knife at a cluster of dates. This disturbed a swarm of small black flies, which then buzzed annoyingly around First Man’s face and tickled his nose. He tried to brush them off, but this made him drop his knife. He yelled a warning to his wife who quickly jumped away. But in doing so, she disturbed Cobra who got so frightened that he dove into a nearby hole, which was Rat’s home.
Rat got so scared that he dashed out of his hole and sought safety in the nearest tree, which was the tree that Weaverbird nested in. Fearing that Rat was trying to steal his eggs, he set up a dreadful racket, which scared Colobus Monkey so much that he dropped a mango he was eating. It landed with a thud on Elephant’s head. Thinking that he was being hunted, Elephant stampeded off. But while he had been eating, he had hooked a sturdy liana around his tusks. The roots of the liana were wound around a large termite mound, and when Elephant fled he caused the mound to fall into Guineafowl’s nest, breaking all her eggs.
Poor Guineafowl was so upset by the loss of her eggs that she didn’t utter a sound for two whole days and nights. So Sun was not awoken, and the land was all in darkness. The animals feared this darkness and cried out to Creator to save them.
Creator summoned all the animals together and asked Guineafowl, “Why did you not wake Sun these two mornings?”
“My eggs were broken by a falling termite mound, that was pulled over by a creeper, that was dragged away by Elephant, who was hit by a mango, that was dropped by Colobus Monkey, who was startled by Weaver Bird, who was frightened by Rat, who was scared by Cobra, who was woken by First Woman, who was avoiding a knife that was dropped by her husband, who was annoyed by some small black flies, who live at the top of a palm tree,” she answered.
Creator questioned each of the involved animals and came at last to the culprits, the small black flies. “It seems to me that you are the cause of all the trouble,” he said. “Why did you annoy First Man when he was gathering food?”
Instead of answering courteously, as all the other animals had done, the flies refused to answer, and only flew around buzzing.
“Because you refuse to answer my question, I now take away your powers of speech. From now on you are only capable of buzzing!”
Turning to Guineafowl, he said, “Never again must you neglect to call Sun at dawn, whatever happens to your eggs!”
So it has been ever since. The flies never got their voices back and can do nothing but buzz. And Guineafowl always calls out to start a new day.