the next week I created a home-made
automatic grain feeder. In essence it was
simply a bucket with a hole in the bottom
to which I attached a tapered, coiled
spring with gaps in the coils big enough
to release grain only when the spring was
moved, hit or wobbled – in other words- when a pheasant pecked at it.
The following weekend I set the feeder
up on the edge of a large and very thick
piece of gorse and scrub. Jason reckoned
he'd seen birds on multiple occasions at
the spot so I felt confident something
would find the free meal. I was hanging
out to know if any birds were frequenting
the feeder so it was only a week before
I just had to go back for a look. It was
all good news; the level of grain in the
bucket was down a tad and going by the
sign on the ground, it was obvious that
more than one bird had discovered it.
The following Saturday morning I was
perched up in the portable ground blind
well before daybreak, full of anticipation.
The first couple of hours went by with
nothing sighted other than the usual
early morning blackbirds, thrushes, other
small passerine birds and the odd rabbit.
Hmmm!
It wasn't until the sun poked its nose
over the eastern hills behind Nelson
and hit the scrub edge that I noticed
some movement well back in the gorse
and long grass. Binoculars revealed a
hen pheasant making a very cautious
approach towards the scrub edge. Ten
minutes later when she was happy with
the situation, she popped out, began
pecking around at the scattered grain
for a few minutes and then promptly
lay down. I got a wonderful series of
photographs of her, including the
one you see here.
More movement behind the feeder
caught my eye and once again it was well
back in the gorse. This time it was a male
pheasant, the bright red facial wattles
making its gender pretty clear. I watched
this bird for around forty minutes as he
made his way back and forth in the densecover, watching out for any possible
or potential danger (see third image).
I thought the hen had been very
watchful and alert in her approach
but compared to the cock bird, she
was positively brazen.
He eventually decided it was safe enough
and began tentatively feeding. He never
ventured further than a few feet from
cover, and in the way of Fallow deer,
would often feign going back to feeding
only to quickly snap his head back up for
another look around. I couldn't believe
how wary and alert this guy was. On a
few occasions, he would run back into
the gorse for what seemed like no reason,
no doubt put off by a sight or sound that
wasn't to his liking.
No more birds revealed themselves
that morning, which was fine by
me. I had a fantastic, intimate couple of
hours with two completely undisturbed
creatures, managed some awesome
images and learned a lot about the habits
of ring-necked pheasants.An adult male pheasant in
all his colourful glory.
1/1000 @ f/7.1, ISO 2000The 'forty minute'
cock pheasant –
super cautious and
cagey.
1/500 @ f/5.6, ISO 800Adult female
pheasant surveying
the scene for danger
before venturing out
into the open.
1/1000 @ f/7.1, ISO 400August / September 2019~ NZ HUNTER MAGAZINE 65the next week I created a home-made
automatic grain feeder. In essence it was
simply a bucket with a hole in the bottom
to which I attached a tapered, coiled
spring with gaps in the coils big enough
to release grain only when the spring was
moved, hit or wobbled – in other words
- when a pheasant pecked at it.
The following weekend I set the feeder
up on the edge of a large and very thick
piece of gorse and scrub. Jason reckoned
he'd seen birds on multiple occasions at
the spot so I felt confident something
would find the free meal. I was hanging
out to know if any birds were frequenting
the feeder so it was only a week before
I just had to go back for a look. It was
all good news; the level of grain in the
bucket was down a tad and going by the
sign on the ground, it was obvious that
more than one bird had discovered it.
The following Saturday morning I was
perched up in the portable ground blind
well before daybreak, full of anticipation.
The first couple of hours went by with
nothing sighted other than the usual
early morning blackbirds, thrushes, other
small passerine birds and the odd rabbit.
Hmmm!
It wasn't until the sun poked its nose
over the eastern hills behind Nelson
and hit the scrub edge that I noticed
some movement well back in the gorse
and long grass. Binoculars revealed a
hen pheasant making a very cautious
approach towards the scrub edge. Ten
minutes later when she was happy with
the situation, she popped out, began
pecking around at the scattered grain
for a few minutes and then promptly
lay down. I got a wonderful series of
photographs of her, including the
one you see here.
More movement behind the feeder
caught my eye and once again it was well
back in the gorse. This time it was a male
pheasant, the bright red facial wattles
making its gender pretty clear. I watched
this bird for around forty minutes as he
made his way back and forth in the densecover, watching out for any possible
or potential danger (see third image).
I thought the hen had been very
watchful and alert in her approach
but compared to the cock bird, she
was positively brazen.
He eventually decided it was safe enough
and began tentatively feeding. He never
ventured further than a few feet from
cover, and in the way of Fallow deer,
would often feign going back to feeding
only to quickly snap his head back up for
another look around. I couldn't believe
how wary and alert this guy was. On a
few occasions, he would run back into
the gorse for what seemed like no reason,
no doubt put off by a sight or sound that
wasn't to his liking.
No more birds revealed themselves
that morning, which was fine by
me. I had a fantastic, intimate couple of
hours with two completely undisturbed
creatures, managed some awesome
images and learned a lot about the habits
of ring-necked pheasants.An adult male pheasant in
all his colourful glory.
1/1000 @ f/7.1, ISO 2000
The 'forty minute'
cock pheasant –
super cautious and
cagey.
1/500 @ f/5.6, ISO 800Adult female
pheasant surveying
the scene for danger
before venturing out
into the open.
1/1000 @ f/7.1, ISO 400August / September 2019~ NZ HUNTER MAGAZINE 65