High in the western Himalayas, where oak and conifer forests climb into cold, cloud-draped ridges, lives the king of birds—or jujurana, as this pheasant is referred to and is revered by the people of Kullu-Manali valleys in Himachal Pradesh. Also known as western tragopan, it is considered among the world’s rarest pheasants due to small and fragmented population, numbering only 2,500 to 3,500 individuals. Even this number is shrinking as forest loss, infrastructure development and human disturbance continue to nibble away at its fragile mountain habitat. It is listed as Vulnerable by BirdLife International and the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).
In India and Pakistan, where the bird is endemic, it has captivated the people of the Himalayas for centuries. It is celebrated under many names—sonalu and solalee in Kashmir, fulgar and fulgari in Chamba, pyara in Kinnaur, sing monal in Pahari and jewar in Garhwal. The male western tragopan, measuring 68-73 cm, is undeniably royal in appearance. Dark plumage spangled with white ocelli sets off a vivid array of colours: a crimson patch on the hindneck, an orange fore-neck, a blue throat, reddish facial skin, and a small dark crest. The underparts are black with white spots flushed in red and the flanks and abdomen form a rich mosaic of brown and black.
During breeding season the male unfurls his extraordinary feature—two small, fleshy blue horns that rise on either side of his crown as he struts and calls to attract a mate. These, combined with his booming, nasal khuwaah call, have earned him the moniker “horned pheasant.”
The species inhabits a narrow, discontinuous belt of temperate and subalpine forest between elevations of 2,400 and 3,600 metres, sometimes descending as low as 2,000 metres in winter. Its range stretches from the Swat Valley of Pakistan across Kashmir and Himachal Pradesh into Uttarakhand. Here, amid dense undergrowth and thickets of montane bamboo, the birds move quietly. Most sightings come from pairs or family groups slipping through the shadows, their presence betrayed only by a rustle of leaves. But in undisturbed valleys, the tragopan may feed openly along forested slopes and clearings at dawn and dusk, picking through fresh leaves, berries, seeds, bamboo shoots, fallen fruits and insects.
Nesting habits vary, while some birds choose the ground, placing their nest deep within protective cover, while others settle into low tree cavities or sturdy boughs. A typical clutch of three to six eggs is incubated by the hen for nearly a month as the cock stands guard. Breeding peaks in May and June, and that is when the woods ring with displays and calls and the usually secretive tragopan briefly reveals its flamboyant side.
Yet the species faces mounting threats. According to Sanjeeva Pandey, former chief wildlife warden of Himachal Pradesh, western tragopan numbers have fallen sharply in several regions, particularly where hydroelectric projects, roads and tunnels, such as the Rohtang tunnel in Solang nullah, have fragmented forests and disturbed once-secure breeding grounds. Amid this decline, the Great Himalayan National Park (GHNP) has emerged as the bird’s most reliable sanctuary, supporting more than 500 pairs. Other strongholds survive in Daranghati and Rupi Bhaba wildlife sanctuaries, though these too require careful stewardship.
Conservationists now call for a comprehensive strategy to safeguard the tragopan and the temperate forests it symbolises. This includes long-term ecological monitoring in GHNP and widening public awareness beyond the park’s boundaries. Researchers recommend giving the species flagship status to help protect moist temperate forests, standardising monitoring methods across states, surveying understudied habitats along the Pir Panjal range, and using radio-tagged birds to reveal vital data on movement, breeding success, and habitat use.
Magnificent yet vulnerable, the western tragopan endures as a living emblem of the Himalayas—a guardian of mossy forests, bamboo thickets, and high mountain silence. Saving this “king of birds” means preserving not only a single species, but the intricately balanced ecosystems that have shaped the cultural and natural heritage of the Western Himalayas for generations.
This article was originally published as part of the December 16-31, 2025 print edition of Down To Earth