D n ¥ i ~*~ SK 2i5 & Bb 104638 i \e ) Cornell University Library Dthaca, Nem Bork BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 O- r | erican game-bird shooting, Cornell University The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924015722428 RuFFED GROUSE (BONASA UMBELLUS) AMERICAN GAME-BIRD SHOOTING By George Bird Grinnell Author of PAWNEE HERO STORIES AND FOLHK-TALES ¥ BLACKFOOT LODGE TALES W THE STORY OF THE INDIAN # THE JACK SERIES # AMERICAN DUCH SHOOTING, etc., etc. With Colored Plates of Ruffed Grouse and Bobwhite, Forty-eight Full-page Portraits of Game Birds and Shooting Scenes, and many Cute in Text NEW YORK ; Forest and Stream Publishing Company ial an = N\sa 216% Cobynidiir, 29i05, ey FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING COMPANY PREFACE O FULL AND COMPLETE work on American upland shooting has as yet been written. Volumes have been published, each of which covers some section of what ts really a large subject, but from the broader sportsman’s viewpoint no one of them is complete. Of these works, the most useful was written by the veteran naturalist and sportsman, D. G. Elliott, whose “Game Birds of North America” deals chiefly with the natural history side of the grouse and quails, and touches only lightly on the methods by which they are pursued for sport. It seems time now that a book should be written, covering the whole subject of upland American game- bird shooting; that is, the shooting of those birds in which the pointing dog is the assistant to the gun— the turkeys, grouse and quail, and the American wood- cock and Wilson’s snipe, called also “English” and “jack” snipe, a bird of continental distribution, Some years ago I brought together a large amount vii PREFACE of material on duck shooting in North America, and the gratifying reception met by that volume encour- ages me to believe that there is place for a companion work, which shall appeal especially to men who tramp the uplands with gun and dog. They may perhaps welcome a book which shall deal with their favorite sport, and shall touch on it as practiced in different parts of the country. No two men use the terms shooting and hunting in the same way, and if the question could be submitted to a general conference of sportsmen, wide differences of opinion as to what constitutes a game bird would of course be found to exist. In certain sections of the country, and among certain classes of people, bluejays and woodpeckers are regarded as legitwnate objects of the gunner’s pursuit; if they are less highly esteemed than quail and prairie chicken, tt 1s only because they weigh less. For the purposes of this book I have considered as game birds only the species that are commonly hunted with dogs. This naturally throws out of the list many birds which offer good sport and are excellent for the table. Such are many of the plovers and beach birds, the Bartramian sandpiper, and all the rails. In the preparation of the volume I have not hesi- tated to draw for information on all available sources, Vill PREFACE and I have striven to bring together much material of interest to the sportsman which is now scattered through many volumes and periodicals, and is thus not easily accessible. The plan of the book does not differ essentially from that of “American Duck Shooting.” Its first part is devoted to descriptions of the birds and their hab- its, the second part to the various methods employed in taking the birds and the aids to shooting—dogs, guns and ammunition; while in the third is discussed the shooting of the future. I have received at several hands valuable assistance, which I desire here to acknowledge. Dr. A. K. Fisher, of the Biological Survey of Washington, a keen sports- man and experienced ornithologist, kindly read over the manuscript. Mr. B. Waters, distinguished as a crack shot, and especially learned in the hunting dog, is chiefly responsible for the chapters especially de- voted to dog and gun. To the kindness of Mrs. Ver- non Bailey and of the Houghton, Mifflin Co. I owe the excellent plates of the scaled quail and Mearns’ quail, taken from her “Handbook of Birds of the Western United States.’ Messrs. Little, Brown & Company give me permission to reproduce several cuts from Baird, Brewer and Ridgway’s “North American Birds.” The Forest and Stream Publishing Company 1x PREFACE has allowed me to enrich the book with a wealth of illustrations not always to be had in such a volume. The colored plates of the ruffed grouse and Virginia quail, so admirably depicted by Mr. Louis Agassiz Fuertes, I use by the kind permission of the Biological Survey of the Department of Agriculture, who also let me have the excellent figures of the sage grouse and, of Gambel’s quail. Dr. C. F. Hodge, of Clark Uni- versity, Worcester, Mass, has furnished me with a number of beautiful photographs of his ruffed grouse and bobwhites. Sportsmen and ornithologists will find here much that is familiar, but, I hope, also something that is new. Geo. BirD GRINNELL. New York, October, r9ro. CONTENTS PAGE PREFBAC Bye ssuseuesie waa nese wratlbus "eae wis are a eaterere sears a “VAL ENERO DUCTION ss sjccais austitie ee se attesarore toma Gsaatie se-sareacstses xvii PART I AMERICAN GAME BIRDS PAGE SNIPE-LIKE. BIRDS secscexavavanccanimeniaasin reese I WOODCOCK iicaieksicciistiine scoractearacndiniddnannatens aaaunad he 6 AMERICAN SNIPE... 2. cc cece cece cece ee ceeeeeeeerene 30 GALLINACEOUS BIRDS 5 tisisscs stisenieensineignuisne. + ve stelewiers 40 THE AMERICAN QUAIL.,......cccecese esse seceees 47 QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE........0.eeeeeeeeeee 49 MASKED BOBWHITE.... cece eee cee eee e en encencees 61 MOUNTAIN QUAIL... cess cc cece cece ee seeeceeeenees 76 SCALED QUAIUsessc ies saunameeiews sess a eteewewerodes 81 CALIFORNIA QUAIL, VALLEY QUAIL....... apiaraiatessis 85 GAMBEL’S: QUAIL i. snnadiierereeseceedesees (OL MASSENA OR Muanns’ " Quam. Rdleaalercnp awa aeeieC eras 106 THE AMERICAN GROUSE.........ccecceeeceecees 114 Dusky (GROUSBY sag sacsavencre sheng exe sewigisioeiobicie-e ie 115 CanabA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE....-.+s+2e+e06 125 FRANKLIN’S GROUSE........cceeeccecscccecceceeess 135 RuFFED GROUSE, PARTRIDGE... ....-.seeeeeeeee waren 130 xi CONTENTS PAGE THE AMERICAN GROUSE—(Continued). WILLOW PTARMIGAN....cccccscecacceccccecuccceees 168 ROCK PTARMIGAN......cesceececscevcccce sia acaters wee. 187 WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN.....- a deslaraiays siete Sarees 193 PINNATED GROUSE.....ccseeesecees Siclateiunvcenaierieie 206 SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. ...cssccccceccsccecceeceees 251 SAGE: GROUSE... is assacneewewiows see vs eee eiobineieiste 272 THE WILD TURKEY.........scccseeeceeeceeeeeees 282 PART II UPLAND SHOOTING PAGE UPLAND SHOOTING............. hia aire ava ateltciese memos 303 WOODCOCK SHOOTING. .....ccccecceccececccvcccevscecs 305 SNIPE SHOOTING ben's aiaasieeest ces oes Reeguune a aee es 319 QUAIL, SHOOTING: wavnnncvenw ay secede save ened sa ed ose 332 BOBWHITE. -sdisiesechacceaunis ta-3 ote 8 oe MRSS SE F454 332 VALLEY: QUAIL aatesecionisac tame ainemaailaeance ghee. 350 GAMBRI!S, QOUATE «.caunesedises ol npadebesneseata 352 MOUNTAIN QUATIN. si vis-sices-e 006 oa verre nweinne tae inae 353 SCALED: QUATE: s ccaide in tise ss be alee eb eiene x elses 354 MEARNS’ QUAIbinnsswss cade ne ceee mnaee sens oe cree se 357 SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE..............0005 359 RUPFED GROUSE scciesisiaaiwaiie ecead oie edeeeauiesd dda gee 359 DUSKY GROUSE nscksenieisisieien si Fee 6.9 ase ereis eee else Oe se He's 384 PTARMIGAN SHOOTING........c ccc cecccscsccecsccees 302 WILLOW PTARMIGAN.....-ceeeseccscceuce Deisiers wide RET 392 SHOOTING THE PRAIRIE GROUSE..............04. 308 PINNATED: GROUSE. 1066-935 ola eieisieg ele sis sipiinsiee ee eaise ns oea¥s 309 SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. .... sc eceescceeeverecccsevecees 412 SAGE GROUSE 45 d28e davon Weis ora vastus hates 416 xii CONTENTS PAGE TURKEY SHOOTING......... cece ecc cece cee eeeeeeenees 422 AIDS TO SHOOTIN GC vevaswasiwsaess vee wsavevewawaes be 437 CLOTHING § «vs 3 state cowie tr eee 84 aaa Me ae Uae oP ae eS 457 GUNS AND: LOADS ioe hiicdaeieit ces « abeRe asta dhea.s casas 462 DOGS asieiuewedes cee etait bessietere ig late ie eisndiarere tele anse eeees 470 PART III THE SHOOTING OF THE FUTURE PAGE A. LOOK BACKWARD) sagiiccuowsarg op elev ies widens seennee ed SII TRANSPLANTING AMERICAN GAME BIRDS........seceeeeees 527 DESTRUCTION AND PROTECTION. ...ccceccceccccecveteceeeee 536 CoNCLUSION..... ajnncsdhicvas Sate iS cvounuavarasaowr aya ealesaidcaiare cubse Wiereiaynee Guntwse 555 Xilt LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PART I TO FACE PAGE Rurrep Grouse. (Colored Plate).............. Frontispiece Woopncock ON NEST: siicccvvevacsse sees se aomncegerersees: TS NEST OF WO0DCOCKii 6:6 6os eencedac acne cteetanmeeeeceses (27 NEST OF WILSON’S SNIPE.....cssececscccccccerevevecessees 33 MOUNTAIN QUAT Les ceasg dancareadietas 8 oe einnseealeawn,eeee ee JO SCALED: QUAI: 150422 chaceheddnaincinle no aadamicesadee vets 33 CALIFORNIA ‘QUALI: ssa xeheeeesen te yeas ss deaweeeneneeeners 85 NEST OF CALIFORNIA QUAIL.....ceecccrcececesceeesesceses GAMBEL'S. QUAIL .i2 ic as wacsuneieds sbaties wae vecinewaee aie oo see LOL MASSENA OR MEARNS’ QUAIL. .... cece eeccecssseesccecesess 109 Sr1zrRRA Dusky GROUSE AND YOUNG......sesceeseeeceeeeeee 119 DUSKY ‘GROUSEi i462 vss ai srieeeaie nes 04 ts8aedlesikeweae ses ca. 123 Canapva Grouse. (After Audubon’s Plate)................. 131 STRUTTING RUFFED GROUSE. .... csc ccescccecceececcecseee 145 THE DRUMMING GROUSE......-. cece cece cecreceseceseeseees 14Q NEsT OF RUFFED GROUSE........ sec ceceee esse ceeeeeereees ISL DAYADREAMING + os: gauu soedeseuun cess sau ar aaeede eee cease DOL Rurrep GROUSE ON NESTie ci cisesscarvennceaesecessessa 165 WILLOW PTARMIGAN IN ALASKA... cess sseccceccsessvceces 197 WHITE-TAILED PIARMIGAN........ sc cccecccesceccscscessees 203 PINNATED GROUSE AND NEST.....2. 2s cesceccccececeeeees 221 SHARP-TAILED Grouse. (After Audubon’s Plate)........... 257 SAGE: GROUSE? 3) sersnGebndeus naces ess smeremieiesins cosa deere 279 Wit TURKEYS FEEDING: +o: ooxiveanaesee evieds aan nawedins 280 WILD TURKEY STRUTTING» s..6.ccc0stesdctvense cece avaness: 207 xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE PART II TO FACE PAGE BoswuiTeE 1n Potato Fretp. (Colored Plate)...........+. 305 Woopcock CROUCHING......... ied S Wow waceembeiatiels ixier gece BOF SETTER POINTING SNIPE....... peetel cerca iets uaeistetalen’s 325 ON- POINT casi Acoonatate sodden neeee bob MMR ER OL Dera 341 SHOOTING IN THE PINES....... Ssh MEA Rae es cane eae 345 SETTER POINTING, WITH BIRD IN MOUTH.............- saves: BOI Rurrep Grouse Cock, REARED IN DOMESTICATION........ 377 Dusky GROUSE ON THE MOUNTAINS........0e.0e0es Cassa eons 387 WILLOW PTARMIGAN.......+0005 Ji ved e wi aeenw ewe ee ssiaveee 303 PRAIRIE CHICKEN SHOOTING IN KANSAS.......-.-0e000% we 405 POINTERS FAST ON CHICKENS.....--ceccccecccecececcees eee II WILD TURKEYS IN THE PINES........+.-245 esieaee ee sibs we te 423 SETTER STANDING A RUFFED GROUSE.......000ceseeees wees 471 DELIVERING THE BIRD............- ia ohinleee eese-8 se eaaw eT 487 SHOOTING IN MississipPI. (Painting by Edmund Osthaus). 503 PART III TO FACE PAGE Boswuite CuHick, THREE WEEKS OLD.......ecceeeceecees SII EUROPEAN QUAI Lisiscvaii eve ce sa needeawves veers ioe da Ma-Sain 517 Hysrip Dusky GROUSE-PHEASANT......c.ceeeeeereceesecee 519 EUROPEAN PARTRIDGE........0e.eeeeeee avacalvipi a auatare-a: eareesiatete 521 DousLe HANDFUL OF QUAIL... cece cece ee ee ceceees wastninibae 537 WINTER QuarTERS OF Dr. HODGE’S QUAIL... .....000e ee « 539 RuFFED Grouse CuHiIcks Just HATCHED..........0. e000 eee 541 FEEDING BOBWHITE CHICKS......ccceccececeecececeecssees 545 BospwuHiTE REARED BY Dr. C, F. Hopce............ seaateie 547 RuFFED GROUSE FEEDING rrom HANnD............ gPnadneecSet xv LINE CUTS IN TEXT PAGE RANGE OF THE WOODCOCK. (Map)........eeeeeccececececes 7 Bitz, Foot, TaiL AND WING OF BOBWHITE......+.2+--++002 50 BILt AND Foot OF MOUNTAIN QUAIL.........-0eeeeeseeees 77 BILL AND Foot OF SCALED QUAIL........e-.ccceceecceeses 82 BILL AND Foot OF CALIFORNIA QUAIL.......-.eeeeeee0-+. 86 Bitit, Foot anD WING OF MEARNS’ QUAIL.......+2++++0-+ 107 Bitt, Foot, Tart anD WING oF Dusky GROUSE.......... 116 Tain OF CANADA GROUSES voice casscsevdvevece sescssacensws 126 TAIL OF FRANKLIN’S GROUSE... ..eccecesccececccescesceses 136 Brit, Foot, TaiL aNnD WING OF RUFFED GROUSE.......... 140 BILL, Foot, TatL anD WING OF WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN. 104 Bit, Foot, TarL AND WING OF PINNATED GROUSE........ 207 Brit, Foot, Tain AND WING OF SHARP-TAILED GROUSE.... 252 BiLt, Foot, TaiL AND WING oF SAGE GROUSE..........+2+ 273 BIti, Foot, Tai, aND WING OF WILD TURKEY............ 283 INTRODUCTION The astonishingly rapid increase of population in the United States has resulted in an equally startling decrease in America’s larger fauna, especially in those mammals, birds and fishes which are useful for food. The story of the extermination of large animals over vast areas is familiar to all, and men not yet beyond middle life have themselves seen the extermination of food birds over much of the country east of the Mis- sissippi and north of the Ohio River. Even young men can remember when the prairie chickens abounded in Iowa, Minnesota and Nebraska, in regions where now there are but few. As the game became more scarce the importance of preserving it began gradually to be appreciated. Yet in a thickly settled region it is very difficult to effi- ciently protect the game. Obviously, the best way to accomplish this is to interest the general public in it, to point out the economic value of the game birds, and to secure for the authorities, whose work it is to enforce the laws, the backing of public opinion in be- half of those laws. xvii INTRODUCTION The number of people who are trying to accom- plish something in this good work in America is greater now than ever before, and the promise of good results is brighter than it has been. On the other hand, in many sections the stock of native birds is pitifully reduced, so that while once the only per- sons who used the shotgun were the field shooters, to-day the number of men who shoot afield is small by comparison with those who use the shotgun at clay targets thrown into the air from a trap. The good sportsman—good in the sense of being devoted to the ethics of sport, and in the sense of being successful in his pursuit of game—wishes to know all he can about the life ways of the beautiful birds that he seeks for, and in getting together the material for this book I have endeavored to keep this fact con- stantly in mind. Xvili American Game Bird Shooting SNIPE-LIKE BIRDS Limicole. The great order Limicole stands between the galli- naceous birds on the one hand, and the herons, cranes, rails, and their allies on the other. This order, known as shore birds, or the plover-snipe group, is a large and cosmopolitan order. The species are usually of small size and the legs are long, as is usually—but not always —the bill. In certain of its characters the skeleton resembles those of the gulls and auks. The birds live in open places on the ground and usually.near water or in moist situations—though to this rule there are marked exceptions. The young leave the nest and run about as soon as hatched; in other words, as the natur- alists say, they are precocial. The eggs are few in number, averaging about four. The food is chiefly insects, worms, small shellfish or other soft animals which are found in sand or mud. The wings as a rule are long, flat and pointed, but are sometimes rounded. The tail is usually short. The head is almost always I 2 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING covered with feathers and in some cases there is a dis- tinct crest. The bill varies greatly, from short in some species to long in others. In one species it turns up, in another is bent to one side, often it is curved downward, and sometimes it is oddly expanded at the end, or it may be compressed to a knife shape. Usually it is covered with a soft skin, is often much swollen and in some cases is a very sensitive organ of touch. The nostrils open above in a groove. They are never feathered. The sexes are usually alike, though they differ in the phalaropes, the jacana and the European ruff. The breeding dress is often quite different from that of the autumn, and some species are extremely showy in their spring plumage. Within this order are found two great families that are peculiarly familiar to American gunners. These are the Charadriide, or plover family, with a dozen or fifteen species, and the Scolopacide, or snipe family, which contains more than forty species, and in which are found the only two here to be considered. Besides these two great families, there are other smaller ones, which include the oyster catchers and turnstones, the avocet and stilt, and the phalaropes. Not very distantly related to this group is the bustard family of the Old World, some of which reach a size near that of the American wild turkey. This bustard family, according to Coues, perfectly connects the shore birds with the Alectorides, or cranes, rails and their allies. SNIPE-LIKE BIRDS 3 The only birds that we have to consider in this con- nection belong to the snipe family, which may be sep- arated into several groups. All snipe-like birds have long bills usually covered with a sensitive skin, which is soft throughout and furnishes to the bird a useful organ of touch. While the bill is long, it is never wide —though in one or two cases expanded at the tip; the nostrils are short, narrow slits. The toes are usually four, though in two or three cases there are but three. Usually they are separated, but in a few species they are palmated or semi-palmated. The neck and legs are usu- ally long and the legs seldom feathered down to the tarsal joint. Most of the birds belonging to this family are of small size, but occasionally, as in the curlews, the birds are as large as a small domestic fowl. Snipe and sandpipers are exceedingly gregarious, traveling in flocks whose numbers can hardly be counted. This makes them especially subject to danger from gunners, and the birds being gentle and unsus- picious may often return to the decoys over and over again after being shot at. Over-shooting and lack of enforced protection has almost put an end to the shore- bird shooting on a great part of the Atlantic coast. Snipe-like birds usually build in or near marshy places or by water, and as a rule lay four eggs. The voice is a shrill, but often sweet, whistle, readily imi- tated and used to lure the birds to decoys. Ornitholo- gists state that there are about ninety well-marked species of these birds, which are divided into five groups, the first containing the woodcock and snipe, the 4 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING second the godwits, the third the sandpipers, the fourth the tattlers, and the fifth the curlews. In the woodcock and true snipe the eye is placed high up on the head, so that the ear is below it, and, as Dr. Coues says, if the brain be examined it will be found curiously tilted over so that its anatomical base looks forward. The bill is straight and is much longer than the head. It is deeply grooved almost to its very end, where it is conspicuously swollen and soft. The soft, sensitive covering of the bony bill is abundantly supplied with nerves, and the bill is an instrument of touch by which the bird feels in the soft earth where it feeds for the food which it desires. Not only is the bill used as a direct probe, but it is capable of being somewhat bent in one way or another. Any one who has ever compared the bill of the dried skin of a woodcock or a snipe with that of a fresh specimen has probably noticed that the dried bill is much shrunken and is also pitted, showing where the more or less thin skin which covers the bill has shrunken into the pits in its bony substance. Woodcock and the snipe differ from many of their al- lies in not being gregarious. They do not gather in great flocks and so cannot be destroyed in immense numbers. On the other hand, they are very simple, gentle birds, and the woodcock living in cover is easily shot, though the snipe is better able to care for himself. The godwits are large birds with long, grooved bills slightly turned up instead of down. They frequent wet meadows and marshes as well as bays and estuaries, and SNIPE-LIKE BIRDS 5 are as truly bay and shore birds as are the sandpipers. There are not many species. The sandpipers are a large group, and among them are some species with peculiar bills. The bill is soft and sensitive, though less so than in the two previous groups. All the sandpipers are extremely gregarious, and while they vary somewhat in size, as a rule they are small birds. The tattlers, of. which the winter and the summer yel- lowleg and willet are familiar examples, are larger than the sandpipers and longer legged. In these birds the bill is less sensitive than in the sandpipers. They are not less gregarious than the previous group, and are noted for their restlessness and for the noise they make, whence their common name, It is a large group. The curlews are distinguished by a down-turned sen- sitive bill of great length, and in most cases by their large size. These also are noisy birds and remind one somewhat of the godwits, which nearly equal some of the curlews in size. Both godwits and curlews are found all over the world. The flesh of all these birds is usually very delicious, though of course varying in excellence with the foods of the species. Some of these which feed along the shore and largely on shellfish are not particularly well flavored, while the woodcock and snipe are among the most delicate of our game birds. WOODCOCK Philohela minor The American woodcock is a small bird, weighing only from five to nine ounces. He is eleven or twelve inches in length, and of this the bill occupies from two and one-half to three inches. The plumage below is rich russet-brown, paling, on the upper breast, sides of the neck and forehead, to ashen-gray. The crown is black, with two or three crosslines of tawny, and the back is curiously mottled with tawny, ash-gray and black, the latter predominating. The tail feathers are black, barred with tawny, their tips smoky-gray on the upper side and snow-white beneath. The legs and feet are pale flesh-color, the bill dark horn-color at the tip, becoming paler at the base, and the large, soft, humid eyes are brown. The range of the woodcock is from Canada south to the limits of the United States and west to beyond the Mississippi River, but the high, dry plains of the trans-Missouri region limit the extension of his range westward, for he is a bird that loves moisture and cool, dark thickets. His range is shown on the accompany- ing little map taken from Dr. Fisher’s article, in the Year Book of the Department of Agriculture for 1go1. 6 WOODCOCK 7 The English woodcock, so called—by which is meant the woodcock of Europe—is twice the bulk of the American bird, and though in a general way sim- ilar in color, the pattern is so different that the two could never be confused, even though they were of the same size. This European bird has occasionally been = ca a 2 0 - = =“ iS ca leerm, oe NG) oy Porn . . fe: on, LN) ad iS as ie 9 > as] “ ca os" 0" = ra =a ao” = = RANGE OF THE WOODCOCK taken in America. Any sportsman who may chance to kill a woodcock twice the size of the ordinary bird, paler in color and distinctly cross-barred, should by all means have it at once examined by a naturalist ; and if unable to reach a naturalist, he should have the skin preserved, and should report the occurrence. Many of the woodcock pursue their winter journeys as far south as the Gulf of Mexico, while others winter much farther to the north. In fact, it is not altogether 8 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING unexampled for them to winter as far north as Con- necticut, provided they can have a certain amount of shelter and the weather is mild: enough, so that their feeding grounds are not sealed up by the frost. On the other hand, the birds which do not go farthest to the southward may occasionally suffer by unexpected and severe freezes, such as took place in February, 1899, to be spoken of further on. Wherever it goes, the woodcock starts early for its summer home and is often found breeding in New Jersey in the month of March. - The woodcock is thus one of the early spring mi- grants, and, soon after his arrival, which is usually in March or early April, according to the weather, he makes his presence known, to those who understand where and when to listen for him, by the curious night song with which he wooes his mate. This song has been interestingly described by Walter H. Rich in the Journal of the Maine Ornithological Society for June, 1910. He says: “As we walked along in the dusk, ... my com- panion called my attention to a bird note which was new to him. I listened a moment, and then said, ‘The first night hawk, I think.’ An instant later I doubted, and at once my doubt was confirmed when there sounded again the nasal p-a-a-nck! p-a-a-nck! of a woodcock. Soon we heard him whistle somewhere on wing, and presently he appeared flying about, high up under a particularly bright star, where he sang and trilled and twittered. I do not remember having ever WOODCOCK. 9 before heard a woodcock make so much, so varied and so good music. It was a veritable song, and many a so-called songbird does not possess such a repertoire as did he. “The night was clear and cloudless, with no moon, but bright with starlight, so that there was no difficulty in following every development. I think he went through his performance at least a dozen times, with intervals of rest between of not more than a minute. On each occasion he came to earth near by us, always within fifty yards, and nearly always within thirty feet, seeming to have some curiosity as to our presence and intentions, but showing very little fear. In one in- stance he had almost settled upon the ground, within three feet of me, before noticing my motionless figure; either that, or, as may be possible, he was examining his disturbers at close range, for, flying first close to my companion, and making a half circle about his head, he approached me, poised an instant within hand reach, and then came to earth not over ten feet away. “When I approached him as he rested upon the ground he made a peculiar guttural note, which I can- not describe better than to say that it was like the faint, muffled b-o-o-mp of a bullfrog. I stood quietly wait- ing until he should resume, which he presently did, jerking out, with much bobbing of head and twitching of tail, a series of nasal, rasping quancks! After a little he whistled away again, circled, twittered, sang, and dropped to earth. He must have made eight or Id AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ten flights before I left him, and from all indications was ready to make as many more, “A week later a party of four of us made an excur- sion into the cover to listen to my twilight musician, and, though the wind was high and conditions seemed somewhat unfavorable, we were treated to a very fine exhibition of his powers. “This evening there were two birds present, and at times we had both in the air together. Once there came a sudden whistling of wings, and we saw one bird chase the other out of this territory. Pursuer and pur- sued were very plainly visible as they darted and twisted over the tops of the pines on the western bor- der of the cover. Presently one returned and resumed the serenade. I wondered whether this performance was a part of the courtship, or whether my little friend was driving an interloper away from his lady’s case- ment. If the latter was the case, no serious harm seems to have resulted from the combat, if such it was, since we heard what was probably the intruder performing a little distance away a short time after. “One of my companions carefully timed several of the flights. They ranged from forty-five to fifty-five seconds in duration, divided approximately as follows: first, a period of whistling, circling flight while the bird mounted to his proper height—anywhere between sixty and one hundred yards, as nearly as I could esti- mate it in the uncertain light—lasting about thirty-five seconds; second, another period of short but somewhat WOODCOCK II varying extent, when he piped a few preparatory notes at little intervals before starting into his full tide of song; third, the song itself, filling perhaps fifteen sec- onds; and finally, the dart to earth, with wings half closed, made in silence. The intervals between flights ranged between thirty and sixty seconds, “The song notes were as clear and liquid as a bobo- link’s, and fully as musical. During the production of these the whistle of the wings could be plainly heard as a sort of accompaniment to the vocalism.” I think no such good description of the woodcock’s song has before been given. Many observers mention only a single note, somewhat like the ordinary call of the night hawk, which he continues for some time, and then suddenly pitches downward from his height, and drops into cover. Here the female is waiting for him, and about her he struts, with head thrown back, wings trailing and tail spread, a parody on the turkey cock of the farmyard.* The nest is a rude structure of dead leaves and grass, and is usually placed under a fence, or by a log in some thick swamp, or perhaps on a tussock or bit of high ground in an alder run. The eggs are generally four in number, and are of a dull cream color, marked with large spots of bright or dull brown. In No. 2 of Vol IX, of the Bulletin of the Buffalo Society of Natural Sciences, are found “Notes on *Some years ago I contributed to the Century Magazine arti- cles on the woodcock and the snipe, from which, by the cour- tesy of the Century Company, I am permitted to make extracts for the present chapters on those birds. 12 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the American Woodcock,” by Ottomar Reinecke, of Buffalo, N. Y. Mr. Reinecke—as have many other people familiar with the bird—points out that it is one ‘of the earliest of the birds to nest. Sometimes this early nesting is followed by unhappy consequences, as in cases which took place in the spring of 1904. The author says: “In our locality the 13th of April is usually the time to look for full sets of woodcock’s eggs. That year was no exception to the rule, although at the time re- ferred to we had been visited by a heavy snowfall, which covered the ground to the depth of eight inches. The snow had been partially melted by the sun, but was frozen hard during the ensuing night. Two days later another snow storm occurred. The next morn- ing found us on the ground, which is an ideal locality for the nesting of this bird. The ground was then covered with about five inches of crusted snow. In company with several friends we immediately began our search for the woodcock. We soon found the tracks of a pair where they had been feeding or try- ing to find food around partly frozen water holes. “We flushed the birds and began looking the snow- covered ground over carefully for the nest. We found none in that vicinity, but following the tracks of a single bird, which evidently were made the previous day, we came to the spot at least a quarter of a mile distant where the bird had started on its walk to the water holes. On examining the place nothing but a WOODCOCK 13 slight depression was found, appearing somewhat dirtier than the otherwise clean snow. “We were beginning to think that the bird had taken this place in a small clump of bushes as a refuge from the snow storms, when it was suggested that perhaps after all the nest might be under the hard frozen snow. This was no sooner suggested than we were down on our knees, taking turns at melting the snow with our breath. After a few minutes we were rewarded by the sight of one egg, and, continuing our efforts, we found a fine set of four eggs, the first lying directly in the middle and on top of the three other eggs and being separated from them by a layer of at least an inch of snow. From this I take it that when the first snow storm came, the bird had laid only three eggs and found difficulty in keeping on them for any great length of time. The woodcock lives on worms from soft, marshy ground, and, consequently, she could not remain a long time on the eggs, or, possibly, the large amount of falling snow made the bird con- tinually shift her position until, by this constant mov- ing, the eggs were covered with snow; then the next day the other egg was deposited as before mentioned. After this the second snowfall occurred, which the bird could not withstand, and so finally deserted nest and eggs. We found several more nests in the same way on that day, and in each case the eggs were found as described.” Mr. Reinecke records the finding in April, 1901, of five eggs in a woodcock’s nest on which the bird was 14 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING sketched and from which she was afterward fright- ened. The number is very unusual, if not previously unexampled. As soon as the young emerge from the egg, they leave the nest and follow the mother. Thencefor- ward their development is rapid, and young birds have been found well able to fly by April 10. Two broods are usually reared in the Middle States. A curious habit of the woodcock, which, though well attested, is as yet but little understood, is its practice of carry- ing its young from place to place, apparently to avoid danger. Exactly how the mother bird does this is not certainly known, but the weight of evidence seems to show that she holds it clasped between her thighs, as a rider does his horse, and does not carry it in her weak and slender claws. She will sometimes thus transport her young for a hundred yards or more, and if pursued will even make a second flight with it. By the last of July, in favorable seasons, the young of the second hatching are quite fit to look out for themselves, and early in August the woodcock disap- pear—that is to say, can no longer be found by those who search for them. They retire to the dry hillsides among the heavy undergrowth, and remain there until the moult is complete. From such places—often among thick growths of hazel or witch-hazel—they may some- times be flushed by the ornithologist who is searching for early migrants. In September they collect once more in their accustomed haunts, and then are fat, in good plumage, and fit for the gun. Woodcock on nest. WOODCOCK 15 Twenty years ago there was much discussion as to the manner in which the startled woodcock produces the whistling sound usually heard as it springs from the ground. The ranks of sportsmen were divided into two factions, one of which held that the whistle was vocal, while the other was as firmly convinced that it was produced by the wings. Oddly enough, able ornithologists, who were also sportsmen, were divided on the question—and are probably still divided, for the matter has never been satisfactorily settled. Such distinguished men as William Brewster, of Cambridge, and the late Gur- don Trumbull, of Hartford, whose ‘““Names and Por- traits of Birds Which Interest Gunners” will always be remembered, took opposite sides on this question and argued at length about it. The ever-increasing scarcity of the woodcock and consequent inability to observe it put an end to the discussion. Formerly it was legal all over the country to kill this species during the month of July, at which time many of the young were barely able to fly, and when, after a-late spring, some of the mother birds were even still brooding the eggs of their second hatching. This practice was most pernicious and is no longer per- mitted in most States. The coming together in September of the birds which have been mysteriously hidden away, no one knows where, is often loosely spoken of as “the first flight”—in other words, is regarded as the beginning of the southward migration. It is, however, nothing 16 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING more than a collecting in favorite food localities of the home-bred birds—those which have spent the summer, or been reared, in the neighborhood. The first true migratory movement of the wood- cock usually follows a sharp frost early in October. The birds are not gregarious, and for the most part move singly; though two, three, and even four have been seen flying together, and sometimes six or eight may be started in succession from a single small piece of cover. The migration is performed during the night, though in dull, cloudy weather there is some movement in the daytime. Their flight is low over the fields. This low flight is swift, and the birds are often killed by flying against telegraph wires, and some- times dash themselves against buildings. In New York and New Jersey the woodcock may almost be considered as resident, for in mild winters a few birds are to be found late in December and early in February. The bird does not seem especially to dread the cold, but the freezing up of the ground cuts off the supply of food, and so obliges it to move southward. Often, however, in the coldest weather, an old fat bird may be found about some warm spring hole, where the ground never freezes; and here, if undisturbed, it may remain all through the winter. The principal food of woodcock is the earth-worm, though they also devour many insects which are to be found in the damp situations which they affect, and have been seen to catch butterflies. The “angle- worm,” however, is the main reliance of this species, WOODCOCK, 17 and the number of these which a single bird will devour in a given time is astonishing. Audubon says that a woodcock will devour in a single night more than its own weight in worms, and some experiments on this point, made on a captive bird, entirely confirm the observations of the great naturalist. This speci- men was apparently a male, and weighed, at the time of its capture, five ounces. His cage was two feet long and one deep, and had been fitted up for him by covering the bottom with long, dry moss, except in one end, where there was a box of wet earth, eight inches square and three deep. The bird was fed alto- gether on earth-worms, and these were buried, a few at a time, in the mud. From the first this woodcock manifested very little fear of man; and it was but a short time before he so well understood what the open- ing of his cage door meant, that at the approach of his owner he would run to his “feeding-ground” in anticipation of the meal. So eager was he that it was necessary to push him away to the other end of the cage while the worms were being buried. As soon as he was permitted he would run to the mud and “bore” for the worms. This was a very inter- esting proceeding. He would push the point of his bill into the earth at an angle of about sixty degrees, and by two or three deliberate thrusts bury it to the base. While doing this the left foot was slightly ad- vanced and the body somewhat inclined forward. When the bill was wholly buried, he stood for a few seconds perfectly still, as if listening. Perhaps he 18 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING was doing so, but it seems more probable that he was waiting to seé if he could perceive any movement in the earth near his bill. If none was felt, he would withdraw his‘ probe and thrust it in again a little farther on. If, however, he detected any movement, the beak was hastily withdrawn, rapidly plunged in again in a slightly different direction, and the unfor- tunate worm was brought to the surface and devoured with evident satisfaction. When the supply of worms was exhausted the bird carefully cleansed the mud from his bill by means of his feet and, after giving himself a shake or two, retired to the farthest corner of his cage, buried his long beak among the feathers of his back and settled himself for a quiet after-dinner nap. Sometimes he would thrust his bill down among the moss once or twice, and then walking to his water dish would wash it by slowly moving his head from side to side. After he had been confined for over a month, the worms fed to the bird during twenty-four consecutive hours were counted and weighed, and he was found to have eaten two hundred worms, weigh- ing five and one-quarter ounces. At the end of this time he was still eager for food. Somewhat later he had increased one ounce in weight, and he now ate in twenty-four hours no less than eight ounces of worms. For nearly twenty years now the woodcock has been growing more and more scarce, and it has been generally accepted as true that it is on the way to ex- tinction. Not many years ago so distinguished a WOODCOCK 19 naturalist as Dr. A. K. Fisher published in one of the Year Books of the Department of Agriculture an ac- count of Two Vanishing Birds, one of which was the woodcock. Until within a few years summer shoot- ing of woodcock has been permitted in a number of States, a practice which resulted in the practical de- struction of almost all the birds breeding and reared in certain territories. So much shooting at a time when the birds were but recently from the nest and many of them able to fly only short distances, was extremely destructive. The birds were so gentle and at that season fly so easily that summer shooting was really a sport for children rather than for men. If kept up long enough, this would have resulted in the extermination of the bird over considerable areas, or in such a reduction in its numbers that some natural change, which under ordinary circumstances might be wholly harmless, might almost wipe the bird out of existence. For many years far-seeing persons have recognized this danger and have been laboring faith- fully to have the practice of summer shooting stopped. It is only within a comparatively short time that their efforts have been successful. Besides this danger, to which the woodcock were formerly exposed over much of the country, was an- other which destroyed them by wholesale, although such destruction came only at very long intervals. This was the occurrence of periods of severe cold in their southern wintering grounds. Though such cold periods do not come often, yet orange growers in 20 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Florida know to their cost that they do occur at in- tervals. Frosts which merely chill the ground may prevent the woodcock from feeding and so may force them to congregate at a few open spots or warm spring holes, where if found they can be readily killed, but severe colds long continued are exceedingly destructive. In February, 1899, such a cold wave swept over parts of the South, and its influence on bird life in general was so interesting that I need not apologize for quoting the gist of the observations made by Mr. Arthur T. Wayne, of Mt. Pleasant, S. C. I give this account* of the great cold wave of February 13 and 14, 1899, chiefly in his own words, omitting only the technical names of the various species: “The cold wave which struck the coast of South Carolina was the severest recorded for two hundred years. On Monday, February 13, the thermometer registered 14° above zero, with the ground covered with snow from four to five inches deep on a level, while drifts were two feet deep. This is a remarkable occurrence for the coast region and to be seen scarcely in a lifetime. On Tuesday, at 6:55 a.m., the ther- mometer registered 6° above zero. This exceedingly cold weather came upon us very suddenly. It was sleeting all day Sunday, February 12, but toward mid- night grew suddenly colder, and when morning dawned the whole country was covered with snow. The destruction of bird life caused by this cold wave *Auk, Vol. XVI, 1809, p. 197. WOODCOCK 21 can scarcely be conceived. To say that fox sparrows and snow birds were frozen to death by the millions is not an exaggerated statement, but a conservative one. There was a tremendous migration of fox spar- rows on Monday, February 13, following the coast line of the mainland. They apparently came from the northeast in a southwesterly direction. Thou- sands tarried in my yard all day long and swarmed on the piazza, fowl-yard and other places that would afford protection. They would scratch away the snow in order to find a bare place, singing—that is, the stronger birds—the whole time, while their compan- ions were freezing by the hundreds. While they were numbed by the intense cold, boat-tailed grackles and red-winged blackbirds would peck them at the base of the skull, killing them and eating them. The stronger fox sparrows would also eat their dead com- panions. It was a most pathetic sight. I caught quan- tities of fox sparrows, grass finches, snow birds and chipping sparrows and put them into a large cage, which I brought into the house and placed before a large fire, with the hope of saving them from destruc- tion; but, despite this, they all died. Very few of these birds were emaciated, and the great majority were fat. “The woodcock arrived in countless thousands. Prior to their arrival I had seen but two birds the entire winter. They were everywhere and were com- pletely bewildered. Tens of thousands were killed by would-be sportsmen, and thousands were frozen to 22 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING death. The great majority were so emaciated that they were practically feathers, and, of course, were unable to withstand the cold. One man killed two hundred pairs in a few hours. I shot a dozen birds. Late Tuesday afternoon I easily caught several birds on the snow and put them into a thawed spot on the edge of a swift-running stream in order that they would not perish, but upon going to the place next morning I found one frozen. These were fearfully emaciated and could scarcely fly. Two birds were killed in Charleston, in Broad Street. It will be many years before this fine bird can establish itself under the most favorable conditions.” Mr. Wayne gives a list of sixteen species which he found frozen to death, among them such hardy birds as the meadow lark and hermit thrush. He goes on to say: “Bluebirds and pine warblers were decimated. Mocking birds, cardinals. Florida towhees, Carolina wrens and all woodpeckers escaped.” It must take any species many years to recover from a wholesale sweeping off of its individuals, such as took place on this occasion, and if such a destruction of the woodcock took place all along a section of its winter home, as did in South Carolina, it is not strange that this species should have been regarded by naturalists as a vanishing bird. For many years in Louisiana, and possibly in other portions of the Southern States where the conditions WOODCOCK 23 are favorable, the woodcock are killed during their winter sojourn by firelighting. Audubon, in his “Ornithological Biographies,” says that in Louisiana the negroes commonly killed wood- cock at night by firelighting and striking the birds with a pole or long stick. A resident of Louisiana described in Forest and Stream one method of this destruction, by which enor- mous numbers must be killed. He says: “This bird is migratory in this country and does not breed here at all, yet our State has protected him. If the States of his nativity were to protect him entirely for a few years, in conjunction with the protection afforded by the Southern States, no doubt he would soon become abundant. “The birds are night feeders. Their favorite feed- ing grounds are old sedge fields burned off clean, and pasture lands that have been pastured closely, but they can also be found in the cotton, corn and cane fields. They must be hunted on ground that is fairly clean of weeds and grass, else they cannot be seen. “They are hunted with a torch. The primitive way was a pine torch in an old-fashioned fire basket with a long handle, extra fuel being carried in a sack, but the torch has been superseded by the kerosene lamp. A large lamp is placed in a tin frame with a glass front. The lamp has a strong reflector behind it and should illuminate the ground for fifty feet. It is carried by a man who does no shooting, suspended by a strap around his shoulders and about waist high. Walking 24 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING through the fields, as the light is veered around so as to cover the ground within its range, the woodcock can be seen squatting in his feeding place. “The darker the night the better; a drizzly night is the best of all. On starlight nights it is not easy to get close enough to kill them with a long cane, which the darkeys frequently use, or even to shoot them with squib loads, but on dark, drizzly nights one can almost catch them with the hands before they become accus- tomed to the light, which temporarily dazzles them. The birds are usually found in pairs—unless one has been killed—and squatting from three to six feet apart, and not infrequently, if the night be very dark, the hunter can kill both before flight. “A muzzleloader is preferred on account of the cheapness of the ammunition. The birds are rarely ever shot at more than thirty feet and frequently under ten feet. For this reason squib loads are used. An or- dinary charge of black powder is divided into two loads, a wad run down on it, and the charge of No. 8 shot is about what a man can hold between his thumb: and fore finger, say fifteen or twenty pellets; more would tear the birds. “The woodcock rarely spends over sixty to seventy days in Louisiana, but during this period many thou- sands were killed before the enactment of prohibitory laws, not only by the colored man, but by the whites as well, in the manner mentioned. No doubt your sportsmen critics will denounce the method, and, under any circumstances other than those which actually exist WOODCOCK: 25 in Louisiana, their denunciation would be just, but I opine if these same critics could be transported to Louisiana in the woodcock season they would be sur- prised to find in how short a time they would become lovers of the night pothunt. “T know from personal experience. I was born a sportsman and I can recall, some thirty-five years ago, when I scorned to shoot a woodcock on the ground, but then I was new in the State. It did not take me long to get broken in to the method. The great deli- cacy of the bird and the almost impossibility of getting him by daylight hunting begets the habit of night pot- hunting, and, like other bad habits, it grows apace. “This section of the State is rather out of the wood- cock country, and I have not hunted them for twenty- five years. They are here every year, but not plentiful enough to warrant night hunting, but well do I re- member a noted hunt of about thirty-five years ago. I was a visitor to Louisiana then. One dark, drizzly night my brother-in-law was lamp-carrier for me, and I killed seventy-two from 9 until 1 a.m. with a muzzle- loading gun. No, it was seventy-one that I killed with the gun, but when my ammunition became exhausted on the way home we found a bird on the side of the path. I drew the ramrod and killed it with a blow on the head, making an even six dozen. “I cannot refrain from telling of my last woodcock hunt. It was in January, 1885, just twenty-five years ago. On a starlight night three of us started out for a hunt, one gunner on each side of the light. The 26 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING birds were plentiful, but were so wild that we could not get shots at half of those we found. The two of us killed fourteen. “The next night was bright also, and I suggested a new scheme. I, being a crack wing shot, was to load my gun with the ordinary bird load, while my com- panion was to use the squib; he to shoot them on the ground and I to shoot those on the wing when flushed. “I instructed the light-carrier that when a bird rose for flight he should keep the rays of light on him as he flew. This was easily done by tilting the lamp with the hands. The results of the hunt were twenty-nine; my companion killed fourteen and I killed fifteen, all flying. I do not now recall that I missed a single shot. Several times my companion, shooting at too long range for his squib load, missed, and I killed the bird in the air. But it was not re- markable shooting at all, for when the light was thrown on him he seemed practically to stop in the air. I could almost have killed them with a rifle.” The vast alluvial region of southern Louisiana has many large areas peculiarly favorable to woodcock life. Years ago, before the pothunter had effected so much destruction, the woodcock congregated in those regions in vast numbers in November and December. The heavy tropical rains, of whose volume and persistency the northern resident has little conception, softened vast areas of land, cultivated and uncultivated, and thus fitted them for the feeding grounds of the wood- Nest of Woodcock. WOODCOCK 27 cock. At the same season snipe abounded in enormous numbers, and for the same reason. Another casual, but purely local, agent of destruc- tion to the woodcock is the forest fires, which burn so frequently in many of the Eastern States and which run through groves or swamps where the woodcock have their nests. In such States as New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut and Massachusetts, small brush or forest fires started by careless railroad engineers or thoughtless boys, occur in autumn and spring, and these may travel over considerable stretches of country, destroying great numbers of young seedling trees, burning through the leaves, dry underbrush and dead branches of swamps, and destroying the nests of quail, woodcock and ruffed grouse, and sometimes even injuring the birds themselves. These fires, while doing harm here and there, are not of regular occur- rence and work but little injury compared with those prairie fires which in old times used to sweep over the fertile States of the West, destroying the nests of the prairie chickens, leaving the country bare of food for them and often causing the farmer the loss of some of his haystacks, or even of some of his buildings. Yet the harm done by these eastern fires is a serious matter in a region where game birds are few. An area so burnt over is not likely to be occupied by woodcock for several years. The birds will not breed there, nor, in most cases, will they resort to such a burnt area for food or rest. The years 1908 and 1909 seem to have shown dur- - 28 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ing the fall migration a greater number of woodcock than have been seen for many years. We have heard of bags being made of fifteen or twenty birds to a gun, and gunners have told us of starting thirty or forty woodcock in a single day. One gunner of great experience and knowledge of the habits of the birds and the particular sections to which they delight to resort, has told us that in the autumn of 1909 he started in a single day by actual count not less than fifty birds. The number that he and a companion killed was some- what less than one-third this number. They kept within the law of the State in which they were shoot- ing, but the gunner confessed that the temptation to overrun the limit was strong. The observations which have been carried on as to the present abundance or scarcity of woodcock are not sufficient to justify us in concluding that they are really increasing, but two or three more favorable seasons should make us hope that before long the birds will be back with us again in something like their old-time abundance. It is certain that of late years in parts of New Eng- land birds have bred where they have not been seen for many years before; and under present conditions, when woodcock are killed only in the autumn, they are usually fat, strong-winged birds, very different from the little cheepers of mid-July. This improved condition of things is no doubt due to the adoption of proper game laws in the British Provinces, New England and the States north of Mary- WOODCOCK 29 land. In this large area, which includes a considerable portion of the summer range of the woodcock, shoot- ing lasts for from one to two and a half months, begin- ning from September 15 to November 1 in different States, and ending November 15 to January 1. The abolition of the barbarous practice of spring and sum- mer shooting and the shortening of the open season has resulted in this encouraging increase in the number of the birds. AMERICAN SNIPE. Gallinago delicata. The snipe is a small bird, not much more than one- half the weight of a woodcock. Its bill, which is dark brown and considerably swollen at the end, is more than twice as long as the head. The lower portion of the tibia is naked; in other words, the feathers do not come down to the tarsal joint, which they reach in most other birds, and perhaps in all land birds. The eyes are brown, and the feet are bluish or green- ish gray. The upper parts are generally black or blackish brown, divided lengthwise by streaks of brown and whitish. The chin is whitish and the neck reddish brown spotted with darker. The scapulars are streaked with reddish brown, as are also the wing coverts and secondaries. The tail feathers are blackish, with a broad band of brownish red near the end, and the tips white. The bird’s length is 10% inches, its extent of wings from 16 to 17, and the bill is over 2% inches long, and sometimes longer. As in the wood- cock, so in the snipe, the bill is a sensitive organ of touch. Allied to the woodcock, but wholly different from it in appearance, habits and home, is the American snipe, often wrongly called “English” snipe. Birds 30 AMERICAN SNIPE 31 of this genus are to be found all over the world, and almost everywhere their habits are more or less alike. During their migrations they frequent fresh meadows or wet ground, where the worms and insects which constitute their food are to be found. They are swift of wing, make long journeys, and, for the most part, breed well to the North. It is not, however, the cold which causes them to migrate, but rather the scarcity of food which precedes the advent of cold weather. Many of the snipe along the Atlantic coast migrate to a locality only just below the frost line. Often they may be seen at any time in the winter on the fresh meadows of Virginia and North Carolina, and if cold weather should come and a freeze take ‘place, they move on forty or fifty miles southward, to return again as soon as milder weather has softened their feeding grounds. The snipe goes southward to the Gulf of Mexico and beyond. As worked out by the American Ornith- ologists’ Union, the range of the snipe is essentially as follows: North America and South America. Breeds from northwestern Alaska, northern Mackenzie, cen- tral Keewatin and northern Ungava, south to northern California, southern Colorado, northern Iowa, northern Illinois, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Winters from northern California, New Mexico, Arkansas and North Carolina, through Central America and West Indies. to Columbia and southern Brazil; remains in winter casually and locally north to Washington and Mon- tana, Nebraska, Illinois and Nova Scotia. Accidental 32 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING in Hawaii, Bermuda and Great Britain. Cold affects them little. My friend, Colonel W. D. Pickett, ob- served snipe wintering in Wyoming, where the mercury often went down to from twenty to thirty degrees below zero. Here, in warm springs that were never frozen, the birds remained and seemed to prosper all through the winter. In the same way mallard ducks winter in open water holes in the interior of Alaska. Usually the snipe reaches the middle and southern New England States early in the month of April, though this is a matter which depends largely on the weather. Here they loiter for some time, the greater part of them moving on farther to the North, where they breed. Nests have been found in New York State, and in the summer of 1908 I saw in August on the banks of the Housatonic River, in Connecticut, snipe which I believe had been hatched there. Most of the snipe, however, go as far north as Canada; and New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and suita- ble localities just north of the boundary line between the United States and the British possessions are favorite breeding grounds. The nest is usually a hollow in the open marsh, where the moss or grass has been pushed aside and bent down to make a concavity which will hold the four eggs. These, like those of many of this group, are sharply pointed—pyriform—and always lie in the nest with the four small ends together. They are grayish green or olive in color, thickly dotted, blotched and spotted with dark brown, the spots growing larger at Nest of Wilson’s Snipe. AMERICAN SNIPE 33 the large end. They measure more than an inch and a half in length by a little over an inch in breadth. When hatched, the young leave the nest at once. They are tiny little things covered with yellow and brown down. At this age the bill is short, and the young are unable to probe for food. Audubon says that at first they seem to feed on minute insects found on the surface of the mud, or amid grass and moss. It is possible that they do so, but probably no one knows very clearly just how they are nourished for the first few days of their lives; but as they grow older and the bill increases in length and strength, they begin to feed as do the old ones, and probe the mire. On their return flight the snipe make their appear- ance quite early and are often found on good ground in small numbers in late August or early September. If the weather has been very dry, so that the area soft enough to admit of their food being procured is contracted, snipe may often be found in considerable numbers on small wet places; but as the autumn flight takes place gradually and slowly, the birds moving on for short distances at a time, they are usually not found in any such numbers as sometimes occur in spring at the height of the migration, when some cold wave checks the onward advance. It is commonly believed that snipe spend all their time in wet and marshy places, and very likely they do so, when undisturbed. Once, however, many years ago, I visited a snipe ground near Vincennes, Ind., where the birds were astonishingly abundant. We 34 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING killed many, and finally the snipe became wild and flew away, not as if going to great distances, but as if deserting this especial place. In the effort to learn where the birds had gone I passed over a little rise of ground on to a small, cultivated plateau of the prairie running out between two arms of the marsh, and to my great astonishment started a large number of snipe from the dusty ground between the rows of potatoes. A little later, entering a piece of timber, where the ground was dry under foot, several snipe sprang up in front of me and flew away. It was apparent that these birds, being much harried on the marsh, had taken refuge in this place, waiting until the cause of the disturbance should disappear. I have never seen snipe so abundant anywhere as they were in this place. The following morning, returning to the marsh, very few were found, and those few extremely wild. The food of the snipe consists chiefly of earth-worms and various insects which are found in the soft mire of the marshes which they frequent.. Similar in its food to the woodcock, its flesh is quite as toothsome, and, indeed, it would be difficult by the taste alone to tell which bird one was eating. The snipe is commonly called jack snipe, or English snipe, both misnomers, which should not be used by sportsmen. It should properly be called snipe, common snipe, or American snipe. In the South, according to Audubon, the Creoles call it ceche-cache, no doubt from its cry, while Mr. Nuttall gives “alewife bird,” “from its arrival with the shoals of that fish.” Years AMERICAN SNIPE 35 ago I called attention to a parallel name in Connecticut and elsewhere in New England: “As the bird arrives about the same time as the shad and is found on the meadows along the rivers where the nets are hauled, the fishermen, when drawing their nets at night, often start it from its moist resting places, and hear its sharp cry as it flies away through the darkness. They do not know the cause of the sound, and from the asso- ciation they have dubbed its author the shad spirit.” In the same way, Krider, in his sporting anecdotes, speaks of the snipe as called shad-birds by many of the fishermen along the Delaware. Until the time of Wilson, the American snipe was regarded as identical with the English snipe, and it is, of course, from this similarity of appearance that one of its common names is derived. Until within a comparatively short time, the snipe, like many of our wild fowl, has been almost without protection. To be sure, in the Northern States it was not practicable to kill it in winter, but whenever to be found it was fair game for the gunners of all the North- ern States. On the other hand, it has always been famous for the twisting flight, which renders it very difficult for inexperienced gunners to kill; yet at times, when the birds are fat, tame and unsuspicious, this difficulty is greatly reduced, and great numbers may be killed. ; The coloring of the snipe is markedly protective in character. White below, barred on sides with black, with a breast more or less streaked, and upper parts 36 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING black or gray, longitudinally striped with white, whitish and cream color and tawny, it is extremely difficult to see on the ground. Once, in Montana, riding near a little mud flat, dotted with tussocks of yellow grass, I saw at a little distance a snipe feeding in the mud. For some reason he had not noticed me until I got quite close to him. Then he stopped, looked for a moment, and took two deliberate steps which brought him between me and a yellow tussock, the yellow of which was, of course, constantly interrupted by shad- ows of darker—the spaces between the blades of grass. Without taking my eye off him I looked at the tussock, and after I had adjusted my field glasses, could make out a snipe standing there in plain sight, but invisible because of his background. After a mo- ment or two the bird seemed to think that it had been needlessly alarmed, and moved out again against a dark background, where it was plainly seen; but when I started my horse forward, it again became alarmed and retreated to its position of shelter, which again was in front of, and not behind, the tussock. It seemed to understand that this background would ab- solutely conceal it. This is, of course, only one of the common devices of wild animals to escape the obser- vation of their enemies. The snipe is not likely to be taken for any other one of our game birds, though the dowitcher, or brown- back, one of its nearest relatives, resembles it rather closely. Mr. Trumbull, in his admirable book, ‘“Names and Portraits of Birds which Interest Gunners,” gives AMERICAN SNIPE 37 the derivation of the old word, dowitch, as being originally “the Dutch or German snipe (Duitsch, Deutscher), probably employed to distinguish the red- breasted snipe from the common ‘English’ snipe.” In spring and, to a less extent, in fall, the snipe often practice a curious performance, called by some sports- men booming and by others drumming. The birds, of which there are likely to be a considerable number, rise high in the air, circle more or less about overhead, often uttering a twittering song, and then may sudden- ly drop from a great height toward the ground, caus- ing a humming or drumming sound, which is believed to result from the air passing rapidly between the quill feathers. An interesting account of this action and, in- deed, of several habits of the snipe, was written by Mr. Austen to Forest and Stream, years ago, and commented on by Dr. Nicols, of Cookstown, both these gentlemen residing in Canada. We quote Dr. Nicols’ remarks : “Tn your issue of April 23, Mr. H. Austen, of Hali- fax, N. S., claims that the snipe does its booming (I take it he means drumming) with his voice, and not, as supposed, with his wings, and that this noise is only made at dusk or long after dark. If Mr. Austen will go out to any good snipe ground when these birds are in, especially in the early part of May, in the spring, or September or October, in the fall of the year, on a dull, overcast day, he will find numbers of snipe in the air circling and soaring about and drumming to their heart’s content, when he will be satisfied—or I am 38 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING much mistaken—that the noise a snipe makes when drumming or booming is made with his wings. “In the same letter Mr. Austen writes: ‘AIl the sound that I have ever heard in the daytime has been their scaipe, except that on August 11, 1885, when shooting on the marsh, I heard about and around me who, who, who, only not in very loud tones, and for quite a while was puzzled, until I found running about me at my feet’three tiny young snipe, which must have been a very late, or, possibly second, brood.’ If Mr. Austen will go out where:these snipe breed, during the mating season—that is, with us, in the month of May —he will find that snipe sing, twitter and call. During this season, snipe call one another pete, pete, pete. The cock bird springs into the air, flying twenty or thirty yards before lighting again, with his tail and head up, singing, and twittering much like a bobolink. One could hardly think that these tame, foolish birds were the wild, swift-flying, hard-to-hit birds of the previous month. “The snipe and woodcock both drum with their wings. Woodcock drum about dusk, letting themselves down from an elevated position plump on to the ground, with wings set edgewise. Snipe generally drum on dark and dull days, letting themselves down from a high position with wings set edgewise, fifty or a hun- dred feet, immediately soaring up again to circle around as before. This they repeat for hours together. Years ago, when snipe were plentiful in the Holland marshes, a few miles from here, I have seen upon a dull day AMERICAN SNIPE 39 fifty or sixty snipe in the air at one time, circling and drumming; in fact, every snipe on the marsh appeared to be up in the air. I need hardly say that on such occasions the bag was small. In those good old times I remember in the month of October making a bag of 105 snipe in one day; the day was a bright, warm, still day.” GALLINACEOUS BIRDS Galline. Among the gallinaceous birds, also called Gallineg— cock family—and formerly Rasores, scratchers—are to be found by far the most numerous and economically the most important of the upland game birds. The group includes the turkeys, guinea fowl, pheasants, grouse, partridges, quail and some other groups, wild and domesticated, which are especially used for food. On the one hand it is allied to the pigeons, and on the other to the cranes, and through them to the limicoline birds, which include the snipe, woodcock, plover and so on. The great systematist, Huxley, divided the galli- naceous birds into two groups, one of which he called ‘Alecteropodes, or fowl-footed, in which the hind toe is small, and elevated above the others—as, for example, in the domestic hen, the turkey and the grouse—while to the other division he gave the name Peristeropodes, or pigeon-footed, in which the hind toe is well devel- oped and long, and all four toes are in the same plane and rest equally upon a flat surface in walking—as the pigeons, currassows and others. The English naturalists consider all the gallinaceous game birds which we know here in northern North 40 GALLINACEOUS BIRDS 41 America,‘as well as a number of others, to belong to the pheasant family (Phasianide@) which in that view includes the turkeys, the pheasants, the partridges, the grouse and some others. Until recently American natu- ralists were disposed to regard the pheasant family as limited to the true pheasants, the turkeys, domestic fowl and guinea fowl; and to place the grouse and the par- tridges and quail in a family by themselves (Tetraoni- d@), the grouse family. For the partridges of the Old World the sub-family Perdicine was established, and another sub-family (Odontophoring) for the quails of the New World. By American ornithologists these two groups have recently been given family instead of sub-family rank, and are called Perdicide and Odon- tophoride. The turkeys have also been given family rank, and are now called Meleagride. Although the various birds belonging to this group may differ widely in many respects, all have certain characteristics in common. In all the body is heavy and round, owing to the great development of the pec- toral muscles—what we call the breast in a bird—the head is small and the neck rather long. The bill is short and stout, much arched, and overhangs the lower mandible. The digestive system has certain peculiarities corre- lated with their habits of life. There is a large crop capable of great distention; a strong gizzard—except in the sage grouse—lined with a tough, almost horny, coating, peculiarly adapted to grinding the hard sub- 42 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING stances, as grain, nuts, and seeds, on which the birds very largely feed. The wings are generally short and rounded, and the flight, while often extremely swift, is more or less heavy and labored and seldom greatly protracted. In some species certain feathers of the wing are enormously developed. The tail varies extremely. In some species it is very long and pointed, in others extremely short; again nar- row but long, or less long and very wide. In the pea- cock, one of the large and showy pheasants, the coverts of the tail greatly exceed the quills in length. In the domestic fowl the tail develops a number of oddities. In the blackcock the quills on the outer sides are curi- ously bent outward, whence one of its names, Lyrurus —lyre-tailed. In the grouse and the partridges, the metatarsus, that portion of the “leg” which is without the body, and which in most birds is not covered with feathers but scales, is short, whereas in such birds as the turkey or the pheasant it is relatively much longer. This so-called leg is really a part of the bird’s foot, and corresponds to that part of the foot in man which lies between the ankle and the toes, and in the horse to that portion which lies between the hock and the pastern—the can- non bone. In the pheasants, quails and partridges the feet are naked, but in the grouse they are always more or less protected by a covering of hairlike feathers, not un- like those found on the feet of certain hawks and owls. GALLINACEOUS BIRDS 43 Sometimes these feathers descend only as far as the toes, but in the ptarmigan (Lagopus—harefoot) the whole foot is thickly covered with dense hairlike feath- ers, which serve to protect it from cold and no doubt to some extent facilitate progression over soft snow. In the grouse, too, the toes are pectinated—provided with a horny comblike structure—on either side, and these are the only members of the group that are so pro- vided. In some species, if not in all, these pectinations are deciduous. Spurs with a bony core and a horny sheath, thus resembling the horn of a cow—such as we see in the turkey and the male of the domestic fowl— are common to all the male pheasants. In some species there are two or more spurs on each foot and in some, spurs are present in the female. They are not found in the grouse or the partridges. : In the grouse family a little tuft of projecting feath- ers runs forward on each side of the bill and covers the nostrils. In the partridges the nostril is naked, but is protected by a scale which overhangs it. In the gallinaceous birds the plumage is as varied as it is possible to conceive, ranging from the most bril- liant metallic sheens of all hues in some of the pheas- ants, to the plainest, dullest clay color in some par- tridges and grouse, as the sage grouse, or the white- tailed ptarmigan in summer plumage. Many of the American quails are singularly beautiful birds, but less by the brilliancy of their colors than by the fine con- trasts or harmonies which their plumage exhibits. Of all these birds in America, however, only the gorgeous 44 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ocellated turkey of Yucatan and Guatemala can com- pare in brilliancy with many of the pheasants of Asia. Grouse inhabiting arctic or alpine countries—called ptarmigan—are notable for their seasonal changes of plumage. They turn white in winter and are said to be in a continuous state of moult at all seasons, except for a brief period when they have assumed their sum- mer dress, and again in winter after the completing of the winter plumage. An exception to this rule is the Scotch grouse, which does not turn white in winter, presumably having lost that protective adaptation, be- cause such a change of coloring is not required in the region which it inhabits. The birds of this group are all formed for life upon the ground, in this respect contrasting markedly with that other division of gallinaceous birds, the so-called pigeon-footed group, which shows a tendency toward life in trees. This, of course, does not mean that fowl- footed birds necessarily avoid trees, for as a matter of fact many of them commonly roost in trees, and all re- sort to them for refuge and often for feeding purposes. In many of the pheasants and in all the grouse there are patches of naked skin on the body, which are usu- ally particularly obvious during the breeding season. The comb and the wattles of the domestic hen offer ex- amples of such naked patches. The turkey, of course, has the head entirely naked, covered with roughnesses and caruncles, with a notable process on the forehead. The grouse of North America have narrow, naked patches over the eyes, which during the breeding season GALLINACEOUS BIRDS 45 become congested and large, and by popular writers are sometimes called combs. Besides, several American grouse, stich as the sage hen, the pinnated grouse and the dusky grouse, have on the sides of the neck naked patches of skin, which in the breeding season are capa- ble of being inflated, and when so inflated completely change the appearance of the bird. In the prairie chicken, these, when inflated, have been compared to small oranges; in the sage grouse they are much larger ; while in the dusky grouse they appear smaller, and can only just be seen through the white feathers which sur- “ round them. The sharptail grouse has a naked place in the same position on the neck, and so has the ruffed grouse. All the grouse have peculiar and noisy methods of ushering in the breeding season, of which the drumming of the ruffed grouse, the booming of the prairie chicken, the hooting of the blue grouse and the dancing of the sharptail are familiar examples. These various actions and sounds are not, however, exclusively confined to the breeding season. Grouse are generally supposed to be polygamous, but not all species are so. The quails, or American par- tridges, are monogamous, the male and female remain- ing together during the season of incubation and hatch- ing. In fact, in case of accident to the female, the male sometimes hatches out and rears the brood. The Ameri- can quails possess shrill and rather pleasing voices, while the calls of the grouse are often rough, hoarse and disagreeable. 46 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING In the north and in temperate regions America is well provided with grouse, and in the south with quails. The American quails reach their greatest development toward the tropics. THE AMERICAN QUAIL. Odontophoride. Of true partridges belonging to that family of galli- naceous birds known as Perdicide there are none in America, but their place is taken by another family, known as Odontophoride, which has a wide distribu- tion, with a number of species in the United States, and a still greater expansion to the southward. While the grouse are all large birds, some of them approaching the wild turkey in size, the American par- tridges, or quails as they are commonly called, are all small. The grouse have the lower legs and feet more or less covered with hairlike feathers, and the nostrils also covered with points of feathers reaching out on to the bill, known as antiz. The grouse have over the eye a naked strip of skin which in the breeding season becomes to some extent enlarged and congested, so that it is sometimes loosely spoken of as a comb, though it is not a comb like that of the common hen. The Ameri- can partridges on the other hand have the feet and nostrils naked, lack the bare skin above the eye and usually have short tails. The character which distin- guishes them from the partridges of the Old World (Perdicide) is found in the cutting edge of the mandi- ble, which is toothed or notched. Sometimes this char- 47 48 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING acter is so faintly marked as hardly to be noticed, and when this is the case it is not easy to point out any dis- tinctive character separating them from the Old World group. The division, however, is a convenient one, and the New World birds are sufficiently alike to be grouped together. Though most numerous in tropical America, a num- ber of beautiful species are found within the United States. Such are the plumed quail of the California mountains, the helmeted birds of the California low- lands and of the interior, the scaled quail of the south- west and the Massena, or Mearns, quail. In the United States and Mexico there are ten genera with forty species and sub-species belonging to the Odontophoride. No members of the group range north of the United States, except that the valley quail of California has been introduced on Vancouver Island, B. C., and that formerly the Virginia quail was found in small numbers in southwestern Ontario. QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE. Colinus virginianus, Colinus virginianus floridanus, - Colinus virginianus texanus. Of all these forms, by far the best known is the bob- white—the partridge of the Southern States, and quail of the north. It has been divided by naturalists into several sub-species or geographical races inhabiting southern New England and the Middle States, the Southern States, Florida and Cuba, Texas and southern Arizona; and in Mexico are found many other differ- ent forms of the genus. All these, except those of the extreme southwest—Mexico—differ from each other chiefly in size and in the varying intensity of the blacks and browns which mark their plumage. Of those of the United States the northern form, known as the quail or Virginia partridge, is the largest; the southern races, called the Florida bobwhite, the smallest and blackest ; while the Texas bobwhite is midway between the two in size, and in color is paler and grayer than either. The general color of the typical bobwhite is reddish brown, paler below and streaked, spotted or crossed with black markings. The lower breast and belly be- come whitish, and all the upper parts are crossed with 49 50 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING fine lines of blackish or dusky. In the male, the throat and a broad line over the eye are white, the rest of the head black or blackish streaked with brown. The sides of the neck are spotted with triangular dots of black and white, the back is reddish brown mottled with gray and more or less streaked with tawny. The female is paler than the male, and has the throat patch and the Ca aaag, BOB WHITE QUAIL stripe over the eye buffy. Sometimes the young males have this buff throat patch and superciliary stripe. The tail is bluish gray, the under tail coverts white streaked with reddish brown. The feathers of the flanks and sides are reddish brown, striped with whitish. Length about ten inches and wing about four and a half. Ex- tent of wings fifteen to sixteen inches. Weight from about six and a half to eight ounces. QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE ‘51 The Florida bobwhite (C. virginianus floridanus) averages somewhat smaller and considerably darker, the black markings being wider and occupying relatively more space on the feathers. The Texan bobwhite (C. virginianus texanus) is slightly smaller than the typical bobwhite, but larger than that of Florida. Mr. Ridgway says an olive gray- ish tint prevails over the whole back without conspicu- ous black spots, and the general surface is usually dis- tinctly barred with lighter; the black markings of the lower parts are usually broad and nearly transverse, as in C. virginianus floridanus. Bobwhite is the most widely distributed of our galli- naceous birds except perhaps the turkey and the ruffed grouse. In one form or another it is found from Mas- sachusets south to Florida and the Gulf of Mexico, and from southern Ontario, Canada, west and south through eastern Minnesota, Southern Dakota, Nebraska, Kan- sas, Oklahoma and Texas, into Mexico. Besides, it has been introduced at various points west of its natu- ral range and apparently has become thoroughly estab- lished in Utah and Idaho. It is reported also to be quite abundant in portions of California and in the Willamette Valley, Oregon, as well as on certain islands of Puget Sound, Washington. Though introduced and doing well at various points—Denver, Fort Collins, etc. —in Colorado, some naturalists believe that it has of itself advanced west with the farmers into eastern Colorado. 52 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Being a bird that lives on the ground, bobwhite can- not survive in a country of deep snows. Along the northern border of its range it has often been almost ex- terminated in certain regions, because a heavy snowfall during the night has covered up the roosting birds, and then a change in the weather melting the surface of the snow has been followed by another change to freezing, forming a hard crust through which the quail cannot break, resulting in starvation and death. There are many records of bevies being found after the snow of some severe storm has melted, close huddled together precisely as they roosted. Long continued periods of severe weather, when the ground is covered with snow and ice, sometimes make food exceedingly hard to ob- tain and at the same time render the birds more visible to their many enemies. At the present time the quail may be said to be almost extinct in Massachusetts, Connecticut and much of New York State, and in many sections they seem to be con- stantly growing fewer in numbers. This is due largely to over-shooting, but partly also to the destruction of the covers which once afforded them so much more pro- tection than at present. The reduction in their numbers is a misfortune not merely to the sportsman, but to the whole country, for investigations have shown the quail to be a valuable ally to the farmer, destroying multi- tudes of harmful insects, and also devouring vast quan- tities of noxious weed seeds. The value of the services which it performs is now coming to be understood by the public at large, and it is reported that in certain QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE 53 sections of the country—as in parts of Oklahoma—far- mers refuse to permit gunners to venture on their prem- ises in pursuit of bobwhite. The quail does not migrate and therefore is always exposed to the dangers of winter, and where they have once been exterminated efforts to replace them by other quail imported from the south have seldom been success- ful. The most hopeful indication for the protection of the species is in the growing comprehension of its eco- nomic value. Quail ‘are extremely prolific, and under ordinary conditions might survive the attacks of all natural enemies, but when the climate sweeps off all the birds in a particular region the progress of re-establish- ment is slow. In old times in the south the practice of netting quail was very generally indulged in. Powder and shot were costly, while the net could be used over and over again. This method of taking them, at first practiced only as a means of procuring food, was carried on later for the purpose of securing living birds to sell to persons who desired to restock their covers with quail. Presumably it has been in vogue up to within a short time, if not now practiced in parts of Oklahoma and in Texas. A chief danger to the quail of the south is the non- enforcement of the game laws, and the market shooting by negroes, many of whom gun persistently almost the whole year round and are excellent shots. The ordinary bobwhite is the northernmost and best known species of this genus. Yet the smaller, darker quail of the south and of Florida and the grayer form 54 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of Texas are at once recognized by northern gunners as essentially the same bird that they know at home in the north. The uneducated birds of the southwest, how- ever, do not afford the same sport furnished by birds frequently pursued, but show the disposition to run be- fore the dog exhibited by the other quail’ of the dry country—Gambel’s, the scaled and the valley quails. It is said of bobwhite that years ago it was scarcely found west of the Missouri River, but that it has fol- lowed the settlements north in Minnesota and west in Nebraska. This may be true, but it is quite as likely that it has always existed in this region, but was not observed there until the country became more or less thickly settled. Wherever found, the quail is resident and breeds. Al- though occasionally large flocks occur, consisting of twenty-five or thirty birds, it never packs, as do many of the grouse of the open, and where such large flocks are found it is probable that they consist of the first and second broods of the same parents, or of the birds hatched by two hen quail that have occupied the same nest. , It must be said, however, that there are at least two records where packs of quail have been seen by good sportsmen of great experience. One of these was Edmund Orgill, who made the following interesting report: “A curious experience occurred a short time ago to a friend of mine who went on a hunt to north Missis- sippi, where he had been earlier in the season and found QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE 55 birds plentiful. He was accompanied by his brother, and they had a brace of good dogs. They hunted for hours without the sign of a bird, and could not account for the apparent scarcity. At last their dogs made game, but before they could establish a point the birds commenced getting up all around and in front of them. They were confident that there were from 70 to 100 birds, and instead of their taking the usual quail flight, they rose clear up in the air like a flock of pigeons, and went away for half a mile. They followed the line, which was in an open country, and found a few scat- tered birds in an old cotton field, fully the distance named from where the birds took their flight. They gave up finding more, and started again; and after a prolonged tramp they had a duplicate of their first ex- perience, finding a second flock or drove—not a bevy, for they say there were nearly a hundred. Like the former they made an immense flight. “Now, I know that it is common for the grouse in Scotland to pack, occasionally the English partridges do, and our prairie chickens; but I never saw or heard of quail doing so before.” On this report S. T. Hammond, referring to the year 1852, commented as follows: “In Iowa thirty-eight years ago, when crossing through a piece of woods from one prairie to another, we came upon a clearing of two or three acres of wheat stubble, and a large drove of quail got up, at least 200 or 300, but they scattered in every direction. To this day we can see that clearing and how the quail filled 56 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the air. This is the only thing that has come under our personal observation that looked like the Missis- Sippi case.” The quail is a bird of the open, building its nest in the fields, in little patches of brush, or in fence corners, but after the broods are grown, commonly taking refuge when alarmed in woods or tangled brushy patches. Usually the winter home of the bevy is in some swamp or woodland adjacent to fields where grain or weed seeds or other food is accessible, and a few years ago their wanderings were limited to a comparatively small area. The birds went to their feeding grounds in the morning, walking from them to some place where they sat in the sun and dusted for two or three hours; toward night they fed again; and then often walked in among high grass, where they roosted. Of late years, since they have been so con- stantly pursued, their habits appear to have undergone some change, and they are believed often to roost in the woods or swamps, but in old times it was common to find these roosting places out among the stubbles or in the open fields. Years ago, a gunner familiar with a certain section of country, who had traveled over it enough to learn where the different bevies of quail lived, could almost certainly start each one of them and have a couple of shots before they took refuge in swamp or woods. In those days, however, a man who had such knowledge—if he went shooting frequently—usually contented himself with three or four birds a day. If his QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE ‘37 outings came but seldom, he was likely to demand more and to follow up the bevies. The broods of quail which have kept together all through the winter usually break up as warm weather approaches, and soon after this comes the mating. This takes place earlier in the south, and in New England it is often the first of June before the birds are mated and the clear whistle of the male is heard. The nest is a depression in the ground, lined to some extent with bits of grass and weed stems and occasionally with a feather or two dropped from the mother’s breast. Rarely the parents build over the nest a dome-shaped roof. Cap- tain Bendire quotes Judge John M. Clark of Saybrook, Conn., who saw a male bobwhite engaged in the work of constructing a domed nest. Judge Clark says: “In May, 1887, while on a hill back of my house one morning I heard a quail whistle, but the note, which was continually repeated, had a smothered sound. Tracking the notes to their source I found a male bob- white building a nest in a little patch of dewberry vines. He was busy carrying in the grasses and weaving a roof as well as whistling at his work. The dome was very expertly fashioned and fitted into its place without changing the surroundings, so that I believe I would never have observed it had he kept quiet.” Captain Bendire also says that Mr. G. E. Beyer of New Orleans, La., found a nest constructed of pine nee- dles, arched over and the entrance probably a foot or more from the nest proper. Such constructions are very unusual. The only concealment commonly found is that 58 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING offered by the weeds and grass that grow about the nest. Captain Bendire says that in the south, cotton rows are a favorite nesting place. It rarely happens that for some reason or other a second brood of quail may be very late. Such a case was mentioned in Forest and Stream in February, 1879, where a quail’s nest is stated to have been found in the month of January. From twelve to eighteen white eggs are laid. Some- times many more are found in a nest. In such cases it is probable that two hens have shared a single nest. Captain Bendire tells of a nest of nine eggs taken in Texas, all of which were more or less spotted and streaked with reddish brown and lilac markings, es- pecially about the larger end. While the hen is sitting on her eggs, the male from some elevated perch not far off whistles through much - of the day the cheerful notes which give him his name and which are also interpreted as more wet. When one is near the bird, a third note is heard preceding the two most striking ones, and much lower pitched, mak- ing the whole call seem more like ah bobwhite. It is generally supposed that this call is peculiar to the male, but the female also utters it, though not with the same fullness and vigor as the male. On one occasion while driving slowly along a narrow grassy lane I heard a quail whistling at some distance ahead of the horse. We drew nearer and nearer, yet the sound seemed hardly strong enough for that of a full-grown male, and presently I distinctly saw whistling, a female quail, QUAIL, BOBWHITE, PARTRIDGE 59 which did not leave her perch on a fence post until the horse had passed her and I was within four or five feet of her. Then she dropped down into the grass close to the fence. The rallying cry uttered by members of a scattered bevy is a call of three notes, but entirely different from the mating cry bobwhite. I believe the male bobwhite usually takes part in the work of incubation, and all writers are agreed that if an accident happens to the female, the male incubates the eggs and rears the young. When the eggs hatch, the little ones, then scarcely larger than bumble-bees, at once follow the parents, who look after them with every manifestation of affection. Sometimes it happens that the farmer while driving his mowing machine through the tall grass, may see a male and a female quail rise in front of him and flying but a few feet drop down again. He knows then that somewhere in the grass near his team are the tiny young whose lives are now in jeopardy, and often he will turn his horses about and go the other way, in order to give the parent birds an opportunity to lead their young away from the dan- ger spot. Sometimes the little ones may be seen, a dozen of them, hurrying after their parents across the newly shorn grass, half hidden by its short stems. Oft- en the parents strive to lure man or dog away from the tender young by feigning injury, and on a signal from the mother the young lie close hidden until the danger is passed. 60 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING During their earliest youth the young quail feed al- most exclusively on soft insect food, but as they grow larger they eat more and more seeds, and when autumn comes, fruit of one kind and another and grain. In New Jersey barrens, where grain fields are few and far between, I have taken quail that seerned to have fed exclusively on the acorns of the scrub oak. Most carnivorous reptiles, birds and mammals are enemies to quail, and yet against the mammals and rep- tiles they are fairly well able to protect themselves. Occasionally a snake devours the eggs in a nest or may destroy a few of the very small young, but the depreda- tions they commit are slight. Hawks are the enemies from which the quail have most to fear, and of these the goshawk, Cooper’s hawk and sharp-shinned hawk are the most destructive. I have more than once seen a marsh hawk stoop at a quail, but I never saw this hawk catch one. I have also seen a marsh hawk stoop at a crow, and even at a great sage grouse that would weigh many times what the hawk weighed. The grouse seemed alarmed and ran away, but the crow merely threatened the hawk with its beak and seemed not at all disturbed. MASKED BOBWHITE. Colinus ridgwayi. The masked bobwhite is very little larger than the Virginia bobwhite. It has the whole under side of the head black and the white stripe over the eye is very narrow or sometimes disappears entirely. The neck and chest below the black throat is uniformly cinnamon or reddish, like the other lower parts. The female is almost exactly like the female of the Texas bob- white, but usually has a strong band of cinnamon color across the upper part of the chest. There are no special differences in habit among the various forms of bobwhite quail, except those which de- pend on their surroundings—the character of the coun- try which they inhabit. The masked bobwhite, or Ridg- way’s quail, was described by Mr. Brewster from speci- mens sent on from Mexico by F. Stevens. Previ- ous to that, however, Herbert Brown of Tucson, Arizona, had sent on specimens which were erroneously identified as Grayson’s bobwhite, a Mexican species not known to occur in the United States. In a paper entitled “Arizona Quail Notes,” published in Forest and Stream in 1885, Mr. Brown writes about this species in the following words: 61 62 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING “The masked bobwhite is found in the country lying between the Barboquivari Range in Arizona and the Gulf coast in Sonora, more especially between Barbo- quivari and the Plomoso, where this species is quite abundant. They are also found on the Sonoita Creek, about 60 miles north of the Sonora line. From the Sonoita Valley they range in a westerly direction fully 100 miles, and through a strip of country not less than 30 miles in width within Arizona Territory. Very probably they may go beyond this, both to the east and west. The habits of the masked bobwhite, so far as we know them, appear to resemble very closely those of the common quail, only slightly modified by the con- ditions of their environment. They utter the character- istic call of bobwhite with bold, full notes, and perch on rocks or bushes while calling. They do not appear to be a mountain bird, but live on the mesas (table- lands), in the valleys, and possibly in the foothills. “The masked bobwhite was, three years since, abun- dant in the neighborhood of Bolle’s Well, a stage sta- tion on the Quijotoa Road, near the northern end of the Barboquivari Range, 29 miles southwest of Tuc- son and about 40 miles north of the Mexican boundary line. As the station was then comparatively new, the grass thereabouts was high, and these quail could be had for the taking; but now that the stock has eaten away the grass, the birds have not for a year or more been seen about the place. On the road from Bolle’s Well, west to the Coyote Range (about 25 miles), these quail were frequently to be met with, but the teamsters BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 63 and travelers have killed or frightened them off. One of the former assured me that he had killed as many as five at one shot. Ten miles south of Bolle’s, in the Altar Valley, we came across a small covey, perhaps a dozen in all. The bright, deep chestnut breast plumage of the males looked red in the sun, and gave the birds a most magnificent appearance. We secured but one, a male, the rest secreting themselves in the tall sacaton grass, which at this point was between 4 and 5 feet high, and as we had no dog we did not follow them. Our next place to find them was on the mesa, southeast of the peak, where we camped to hunt for them, but they were scarce here, and we managed to secure but few. “In addition to their bobwhite they have a second call of hoo-we, articulated and as clean-cut as their bobwhite. This call of hoo-we they used when scattered, and more especially when separated toward nightfall. At this hour I noted that although they oc- casionally called bobwhite, they never repeated the first syllable, as in the day time they now and then at- tempted to do. In body they are plumpness itself; in this respect, considering size, they overmatch the Ari- zona quail (Callipepla gambeli), with which I com- pared them. In actual size of body, however, the latter is the larger. Of three stomachs of this species exam- ined, one contained a species of mustard seed, a few chaparral berries, and some six or eight beetles and other insects, ranging in length from a half inch down 64 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING to the size of a pinhead. The second was similarly provided, but contained, in lieu of mustard seed, a grasshopper fully an inch in length. These two were taken on the mesa. The third, from a bird taken in the valley, contained about twenty medium-sized red ants, several crescent-shaped seeds, and a large num- ber of small, fleshy green leaves.” Mr. Brown pointed out, years ago, that the intro- duction of live-stock into southern Arizona bade fair to exterminate the masked bobwhite in that territory, by the destruction of its nests and eggs by horses and cattle, as well as by the eating of the cover among which it lives. His prediction has been verified, and as recently as June, 1909, he wrote, saying: “Colinus ridgwayt is a dead bird so far as Arizona is, as yet, con- cerned, but it is again getting a good foothold in So- nora, about 75 miles south of the line. I am almost afraid to say anything about it, however, as I fear I might send skin hunters into the country.” Other writers have noted in our common bobwhite the same tendency to disappear in sections where gen- eral farming has given place to stock-raising. The bobwhite family attains its greatest development in Mexico. Though differing greatly in color, the pat- tern of that color is somewhat similar in all the differ- ent forms. Several are black, or black mottled with white, on the breast and tail, where our bird is pale in color, just freckled with black. All have the same whistle with which we are so familiar in our own bird, BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 65 and generally their habits are much alike. They range from the sea-level to an altitude of 7,500 feet. They have not the shyness or swiftness of wing of the much hunted form of the East and South, and are gentle, unsuspicious little birds, ready to run along on the ground before the traveler or to dodge out of the trail to one side. Of the dozen forms described from Mexico, perhaps only two, Ridgway’s bobwhite and the Texas bobwhite, cross the boundary into United States territory. No one is so familiar with this group in Mexico as Mr. E. W. Nelson, the distinguished naturalist, whose work in various branches of science, in Alaska, Mexico and Central America, is so well known. In the Auk, for April, 1898, he published a charming account of this group, which is accompanied by an excellent plate of Godman’s bobwhite, a species described by Mr. Nelson, from the lowlands of southern Vera Cruz. Mr. Nelson calls his sketch “With Bobwhite in Mexico,” and we copy it here: “While traveling in Mexico a few seasons ago, I arrived at a small town near the southern end of the tableland in the State of Puebla. The first business in hand was to secure suitable quarters for myself and assistant. Having accomplished this, I was ready at an early hour the following morning for a tramp into the surrounding country. It chanced to be market day, and passing the outskirts of the town I met a straggling procession of Indians, in picturesque cos- tumes, some driving heavily loaded donkeys, others car- 66 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING rying on their own backs crates of fruits, vegetables, hand-made pottery and other simple wares. All were pushing forward, eager to take part in the keenly rel- ished pleasures of petty chaffering, which would enable them to return home with a few decimos knotted in the ends of their sashes. Some of the men saluted me with a polite ‘Buenos dias, sefior,’ but I noted that their conversation was carried on in the Aztec tongue, as spoken by their fathers centuries ago. “Once free of the last houses, a convenient opening in the fence was soon found, and I crossed into a great field, which reached for miles down the broad, open valley. Areas covered with wheat and corn stubble indicated the character of the last crops, while farther away broad belts of brilliant green sugar-cane were in vivid contrast to the dry browns and yellows of the general surface. The sun was shining brightly, and the fresh, balmy air seemed full of life-giving power. The musical notes of meadow-larks were heard at in- tervals, and on one side of the valley flocks of red- winged blackbirds were swirling back and forth over some small marshy spots grown up with tules. Through the valley bottom flowed a little stream of clear, spark- ling water, which, before reaching the distant shore of the Pacific, runs a wild course through the mountain gorges of Guerrero. Behind me arose the mysterious pyramid of Cholula, crowned by a white-walled chapel, which now occupies the place of ancient sacrifice. Over to my right stood the gigantic form of the Smoking Mountain—hoary old Popocatepetl—with the gleaming BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 67 robe of the White Lady—lIztaccihuatl—shining over his shoulder. In front a sweeping plain descended for many miles, through a district of great sugar estates, to the far horizon, where it was walled in by the blue front of distant mountains. “Turning to one side, I approached some scrubby bushes which appeared to offer shelter for birds or other game. Suddenly the familiar accents of my mother tongue fell on my ear. I listened with bated breath. Again arose in clear, round tones, the calls so familiar in my boyhood days, bobwhite, bobwhite. With eager steps I hastened forward to a small group of acacias, and there, quietly perched on top of a bush, was an old friend, the author of the notes. It is diffi- cult to describe the mingled pleasure and exultation caused by this unexpected meeting. It proved to be the Puebla bobwhite (Colinus graysoni nigripectus, Nel- son), and during the following days a number of oth- ers were seen, and it became evident that my friend of the first morning was one of a colony located in the neighborhood. “Afterward, during my Mexican travels, I learned that the bobwhites are widely spread in that country, and although many of them have changed the color of their dress more or less, yet their customs and tricks of speech remain much the same as in their northern home. “Ata later date during this same season, while work- ing down the eastern slope of the Cordillera in Vera Cruz, near the city of Orizaba, we found others of the 68 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING family, known as the black-breasted bobwhite (Colinus pectoralis, Gould). They were living in brush-grown and weedy old fields—sometimes straying about the coffee plantations—and were on friendly terms with most of their tropical neighbors. Fortunately, in these parts guns and dogs are few, and mostly harmless, so that Bob’s days were generally peaceful and contented. But even here life was not without its cares, for the spotted tiger-cats and woolly-haired opossums, with sad lack of consideration, were given to nocturnal raids that filled them with terror and sometimes lessened their numbers. “From Orizaba our wanderings led far away over plains and mountains to the city of Tehuantepec, on the hot lowlands bordering the Pacific coast. There we found our friends again, but known as the Coyolcos bobwhite (Colinus coyolcos, Mull.). They were com- mon, and although their garb had changed consider- ably, yet their voices and mode of life remained true to the family traditions. Indeed, so fixed are old hab- its among them that even long association with the suave and politic Mexican has failed to cure Bob of one custom that I often deplored during my youthful days, when, gun in hand, I sought to make his acquaintance. I refer to that abruptness of manner which is shown in such a disconcerting way when one comes upon him in his favorite haunts. “Near Tehuantepec their home is on the partly wood- ed and partly grassy plains. Old fields and grassy prai- ries, that extend irregularly amid the scrubby forests BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 69 of that district, are their favorite haunts. Here the mesquites, mimosas, acacias, cassias, Brazil-wood, eb- ony, mahogany, Spanish cedar, and other tropical trees and bushes, give the landscape quite a different aspect from that which Bob is accustomed to see in his north- ern home. Old cornfields and weedy indigo planta- tions are popular resorts, and furnish an abundance of food. Brush fences of thorny scrub are built about these fields, and serve as fine places of shelter in times of dan- ger. The quails do not penetrate heavily wooded bot- toms along streams, where the moisture causes a vigor- ous tropical forest growth, unless some farmer hews out a clearing for his cornfields. In these forest belts the motmots, trogons, red-and-yellow macaws, several spe- cies of parrots and other tropical birds, abound, and a little farther south troops of spider monkeys are en- countered. In many places it is but a few steps from the dense shade of the bottoms, where the harsh screams of the macaws dominate all other woodland notes, to the borders of grassy prairies where our friends pass their sedate lives, associated with meadow-larks and sparrows. Throughout this region, where deer, pec- caries, tree pheasants and other game is plentiful, small- er birds are considered unworthy of powder and shot, all of which conduces greatly to peace of mind among the bobwhites. “While traveling down the coast from Tehuantepec into Chiapas, we found them numerous most of the way, and they were a constant source of interest and pleasure. Their cheerful notes were frequently heard 70 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING from the scrubby bushes near the trail, and the neat, trimly-built little fellows carried on their small affairs with little regard for our presence. While riding at the head of the pack train, I frequently found them scratching in the sandy trails, dusting themselves, or searching for food. At such times it was amusing to note the pretty air of doubt and hesitation with which they awaited my approach before finally moving rather deliberately a few yards to one side when I came too near. Now and then the male could be heard uttering little querulous notes, as if in subdued protest at being disturbed. After entering Chiapas the coast was left behind, and we passed into the interior through a se- ries of beautiful open valleys ornamented with scat- tered bushes and belts of trees. It was during the rainy season, and the vegetation was growing luxuri- antly ; everywhere were myriads of flowers, and the in- numerable plumelike heads of tall grasses nodded grace- fully in the passing breezes. In these valleys the bob- whites were very common. It generally rained during the night, but the clouds broke away at dawn, leaving a brilliantly clear sky. We were up and on our way at sunrise, amid the invigorating freshness of early morn- ing, when every leaf and twig bore a pendant water- drop that sent out quivering rays of light with the first touch of the sun. On every hand were new flowers and strange birds. Now and then the Central American mockingbird, in full-throated ecstasy, poured out its rich song, and over it all, at short intervals, the clear call of boebwhite arose from a bush or low tree. At BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 71 an altitude of about 3,000 feet we passed out of their range, and did not find them again until we reached the valley of Comitan, on the Guatemalan border, where their notes were heard. A few miles farther on, just after entering Guatemala, a single female, which proved to be quite different from those taken in Mexico, was brought me by an Indian. This specimen served as the type of the Guatemala bobwhite (Colinus insignis, Nelson). Beyond this nothing was learned of them in these remote parts. “From Comitan Valley we made a long circuit over the Guatemalan highlands and reached the Pacific coast again, on the border of Chiapas. There, on some grassy prairies in the midst of the forested coast plain, a few miles back from the sea, we found many bobwhites of a previously unknown branch of the family (Colinus salvini, Nelson). In this vicinity an attempt was made, many years ago, to establish a large colony of Americans. They came with great flourish of trum- pets and large expectations, but the climate did its silent work so effectually that two or three stranded relics were all that remained. Over the desolate sun- scorched flats near by the same cheery call of the quail sounded in the ears of the Mexican oxdrivers and muleteers as they carried their cargoes of coffee and cacao to the coast, that I heard from many a field and thicket over thousands of miles of varied country to the north. Among these sturdy little Americans there appeared no sign of degeneration, and it was pleasanter to meet them than some of my countrymen 72 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of a larger growth. So many failures at colonizing people from the north in these hot southern lands had come to my notice that I had become skeptical of its successful accomplishment in any instance; yet here in the tropics were the bobwhites, essentially a group of the temperate regions, living as cheerfully as pos- sible, and upsetting my preconceived ideas. “After passing some time in this district we hired an oxcart one evening, and were trundled across the plains to the coast during the cool hours of the night. There, on the sandy shore, we waited ten days for a steamer, which finally carried us back to Tehuantepec. From this place a railroad crosses the Isthmus to the port of Coatzacoalcos, on the Gulf of Mexico, and we took advantage of it to reach the eastern coast. Coat- zacoalcos is a curious little town, destined to play an important part in the development of southern Mexico and western Guatemala. It is one of the few places in Mexico where small frame houses are the prevail- ing style, and reminds one more of some small mining camp in the Far West than of a seaport on the Gulf of Mexico. Here, where yellow fever, malaria and other ills stalk about, according to the season, we heard of howling monkeys, jaguars, tapirs, and other tropical creatures with which we still desired to be- come more familiar. For this purpose we ascended the Coatzacoalcos River about twenty miles, to the town of Minatitlan, a place once noted for its enor- mous trade in Spanish cedar and dyewoods. We re- mained here some days, in the midst of the coast low- BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 73 lands, where the tropical forest is interrupted by grassy prairies of considerable extent. In visiting these prai- ries we were surprised and delighted to find another of the bobwhites that had not been previously known even to those most familiar with the ramifications of this good old stock (Colinus godmani, Nelson. Aft- erward we found them a few miles out of Coatzacoal- cos, and they were also seen a little farther north, in the open country about the shores of beautiful Lake Catemaco. This latter point is probably near their limit in that direction. “The distribution of the Mexican bobwhites is curi- ous, and shows that the family has been long in the land. They range over parts of the cool tableland, and extend down to the tropical lowlands of both coasts, but are unaccountably absent from many apparently suitable places. “Many changes have taken place in their garb owing to the influences and requirements peculiar to such va- ried situations, but the general style is retained, so that their relationship cannot be mistaken. “A representative of this group lives in Yucatan, which, it is said by some, belongs to the family proper ; but if this is so, there must be a bar sinister on its escutcheon to account for some of its peculiarities. “At present eleven branches of bobwhites are known to live in various parts of Mexico, and our work has enabled us to introduce four of them to the friends of the family. Wherever they were encountered over this great area it was interesting to observe how closely 74 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING they continue to resemble one another in notes and habits. From the border of Canada to Guatemala they hold true to a general style of speech and manners that always betrays their connection, with the possible ex- ception of the Yucatan branch, of which I am unable to give any definite information. “For the charming qualities and pretty ways of these little friends of the field, I trust their days may be many and their numbers never grow less. “As it is quite possible that some of our mutual friends may have the opportunity to call upon these Mexican connections of ‘our Bob,’ I have taken some trouble to secure their names and addresses, which are given below. The directory is complete, I believe, up to date. “1. Colinus ridgwayi (Brewster). Ridgway’s bob- white. Sonora; ranging south from the Arizona bor- der. (Between 1,000 and 2,500 feet above sea-level. ) “2. Colinus virginianus texanus (Lawr.). Texas bobwhite. Northeastern Mexico; Nuevo Leon and Tamaulipas. (From near sea-level up to 2,500 feet. ) “3. Colinus graysoni (Lawr.). Grayson’s bobwhite. Southern part of tableland; from San Luis Potosi and northern Jalisco to Valley of Mexico (3,000 to 7,500 feet). “4. Colinus graysoni nigripectus (Nelson). Puebla bobwhite. Tableland of southern Puebla (3,000 to 6,000 feet). “s. Colinus pectoralis (Gould). Black-breasted bobwhite. Eastern base of Cordillera in Vera Cruz; BOBWHITE IN MEXICO 75 from Jalapa to Isthmus of Tehuantepec (500 to 5,000 feet). “6. Colinus godmani (Nelson). Godman’s bob- white. Lowlands of southern Vera Cruz; probably also ranging into Tabasco. (From sea-level to 1,500 feet.) “7, Colinus coydicos (Miull.). Coyolcos bobwhite. Pacific coast of Oaxaca and Chiapas; from city of Tehuantepec to Tonala. (From sea-level ta 3,000 feet.) “8. Colinus atriceps (Ogilvie-Grant). Black-headed bobwhite. Putla, western Oaxaca. (About 4,000 feet. ) “9. Colinus salvini (Nelson). Salvin’s bobwhite. Coast plains of southern Chiapas, near Guatemalan bor- der. (Sea-level to 500 feet.) “to, Colinus insignis (Nelson). Guatemala bob- white. Valley of Comitan in Chiapas, into adjacent ‘border of western Guatemala (3,000 to 6,000 feet). “11. Colinus nigrogularis (Gould). Yucatan bob- white. Yucatan. (Sea-level to 500 feet.”) Very different in appearance from the bobwhite group are the striking quails of the western and south- western portions of the United States. Of these birds there are almost a dozen forms, some of them plumed, others helmeted, others with full, soft crests, but all very unlike the bobwhites. These are amoung the most beautiful of North American birds, and in many of the regions which they inhabit are extremely abundant. MOUNTAIN QUAIL. Oreortyx pictus. Oreortyx pictus plumiferus. Oreortyx pictus confinis. This is one of the largest of our quails. Its upper parts are brown or olive, or sometimes even bluish, the inner webs of the tertiary feathers being buff, so that when the wings are closed a distinct stripe is seen on each side of the rump. The breast and head are in part lead color; the long, backward directed crest of narrow feathers growing from the top of the head is black; the throat is chestnut, and from this a black stripe runs up to the eye. The chin, front of cheeks, lower portion of the lores, a line bordering the throat patch from the posterior angle of the eve and forehead, are whitish. The effect of this is to surround the bill with a border of whitish. The flanks are deep chestnut barred with black and white. The thighs are reddish and the under tail coverts black. In color, the female is very similar to the male, but usually has the crest plumes smaller. The length is from I1 to 12 inches, and the wing from 314 to 574 inches. This is the typical mountain quail, ranging in the California mountains from Santa Barbara, Cal., north to Washington. In Oregon its range seems to extend 6 MOUNTAIN QUAIL 77 out to the eastward, where it has been found near Mt. Hood. It was first found north of the Columbia River a good many years ago, and later was introduced near Seattle, at Vancouver Barracks, and also on Whidbey Island, in Puget Sound, where the birds have done well. The plumed partridge (Oreortyx pictus plumiferus) is a paler race, grayish olive above, but often with the neck more or less lead-colored, like the breast, the edges MOUNTAIN QUAIL of the tertiary feathers whitish, and the forehead white. It is found on both sides of the Sierra Nevada, from eastern Oregon southward, and through California south to northern Lower California. The San Pedro quail (Oreortyx pictus confinis) is a still paler race, with a thicker bill, first found in the San Pedro Mountains of Lower California. According to Mr. Anthony, it ranges high up on both sides of the mountains, to the highest peaks, estimated at about 12,500 feet, and is not common below 2,500 feet. 78 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING The mountain quail is perhaps the most beautiful American quail, though in such an attractive group it is hard to say that one is handsomer than another. The range of the species is limited to the mountains of the Pacific coast, from Washington south through Oregon and California, as stated. Captain Bendire quotes Prof. O. B. Johnson, of the University of Washington, to the effect that its north- ern range has been extended by artificial means. He says: “Twenty years ago this species was found but little north of the Willamette Valley, Oregon, but they grad- ually worked down the south side of the Columbia River, toward Astoria, and in 1872 I was informed that some of these birds, shot at Kalama, Washington, were the first seen north of the Columbia. A crate of trapped birds sent to the Seattle market were, some time afterward, purchased by the Young Naturalists’ Society and set free. These have since multiplied nice- ly, and others have been sent to Whidbey Island, forty miles north of Seattle, where I understand they are also doing well. A covey wintered in a barn lot with the hens just at the outskirts of Seattle this winter.” Quite a number were also liberated near Vancouver Barracks, and did well. It is a moisture-loving species, and delights in a country where the rainfall is heavy. The paler race of this species is found in the drier re- gions of the Sierra and some of the desert ranges. This is quite an abundant species, found high up on the mountains in summer, and also low down toward Mountain Quail. MOUNTAIN QUAIL 79 the desert in winter. It is said that in spring many fol- low up the snows as they melt, spending the summer high up on the mountains, and then in the autumn re- turn down the slopes, below the point where snow lies. The birds have a call not very unlike that of the bob- white, a whistle of three syllables, and the attitude as- sumed by the male while calling is not unlike that of the common quail, the wings being drooped and the point of the bill raised. The food consists of insects, seeds, berries, and the buds and tops of tender plants. In the early spring they feed so much on the tops of the wild garlic—one of the first green things to appear —that the flesh sometimes tastes of the plant. This quail is a prolific breeder, the eggs usually vary- ing in number from 9 to 15, though sometimes they are much more numerous, a nest containing 19 eggs being reported, as also a brood of 20 young birds. The time of nesting varies from early April to late May. The eggs are white. In northern Lower California Mr. Anthony found that the San Pedro partridge does not differ greatly in habit from the other forms. The race is confined tc southern California and northern Lower California. The mountain quail is a bird only casually pursued by the gunner. Often they are flushed and shot, and in some localities they are regularly pursued with dogs and shot over points. In such places they are reported to lie close, and to offer good opportunity for sport. The situations in which they are often found, rough mountain slopes, overgrown with manzanita, chemisal 80 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING and other chaparral, will long protect them, and make the work of shooting them very difficult for the dog, and hardly less so for the gunner. When the birds take wing they are swift fliers, and soon out of sight. It has been suggested that these birds would do well in various localities in the southern Alleghany Moun- tains, where they might take the place of the native species, which seem to be growing scarcer. I do not know, however, that any serious effort has been made to acclimate them in such localities. SCALED PARTRIDGE; BLUE QUAIL. Callipepla squamata. Callipepla squamata castanogasiris. In size, not far from the Virginia quail; with a short, thick crest, white at the tips. The rest of the head is brownish or grayish, growing paler on the throat. The back part of the neck, back and breast are bluish gray. A black border to each feather warrants the name “scaled.” The wings are pale brown, and the flanks streaked with white. Other lower parts are buffy or yellowish, the belly sometimes with a patch of chestnut brown. Sexes alike. Length, 9 to 10 inches. Eggs white or buff dotted with brown. Inhabits northwest- ern Mexico, and the borders of the United States, from western Texas to southern Arizona. The chestnut-bellied scaled partridge has the wings tipped with brown, tail bluish gray, the lower parts behind deeper buff, sometimes yellowish, and a large patch of rusty chestnut on the belly in the male and sometimes in the female. This bird is found in east- ern Mexico and in the lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas. In northern Mexico, along the southwestern border of the United States, from western Texas through southern New Mexico and Arizona, the scaled partridge is abundant. 81 82 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING The birds seem to shun the timber, and to be most abundant on the high mesas, preferring the dry and barren country. Mr. Herbert Brown, however, speaks of having seen them immediately about water as well as far away from it. Captain Bendire, however, intimates that his experience leads him to think that the bird scarcely requires water. Mr. E. W. Nelson tells us that, while he has often found them far from water, they nevertheless make regular visits to the watering ni AEA Sieh TO SCALED QUAIL places. All observers agree that they are exceedingly shy and hard to approach, and that they are swift run- ners, dodging in and out among the bushes with the greatest ease, and soon out of sight. Even if flushed they fly but a short distance, when they alight and run again. Like many other gallinaceous birds, they greatly enjoy taking dust and sand baths, and at such times they act much like young chickens. In the eve- ning they retire to roost, to ridges and knolls, and the birds call to each other until the bevy has come to- Scaled Partridge. SCALED PARTRIDGE; BLUE QUAIL 83 gether again. Sometimes the birds collect in consid- erable numbers, 60 or 80 having been seen together. The breeding season begins in March, and the young birds are usually hatched by the first of June, or earlier. There is some reason to think that two broods are reared. The number of eggs ranges from g to 16, and is commonly about 11 or 12. The eggs are sometimes dead white, or again pale buff in color, and are dotted with very small reddish brown spots scattered over the entire egg. The scaled partridge is not a bird pursued for sport. It is true that many of them are killed by gunners, but merely for the food they afford, the birds being potted on the ground at every opportunity. Of all the quail, this is the most difficult to make lie to dog or man. In Arizona the army officers used to hunt them on horseback, following up the birds and shooting them whenever and however they could. The scaled quail, which is also sometimes called white topknot quail, or cottonhead, does not differ in habits from its relative, the chestnut-bellied scaled partridge. Concerning the scaled partridge in southern Arizona, Mr. Herbert Brown, of Tucson, writes me: “The blue quail are less common than Gambel’s quail, and do not, as a rule, live on the desert proper, but in- cline rather to the higher and rougher foothills. I saw a dog tried on only one, but am inclined to believe in their sprinting qualities. I have shot them in the foot- hills of the Tucson Mountains, west of here, and as far 84 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING east as the Graham Mountains, where I found them quite plentiful. They are quick, active birds, and as pretty as pictures. I take it for granted that they are found much further east, but the eastern slope of the Grahams is as far as my personal acquaintance goes.” California Quail. CALIFORNIA QUAIL; VALLEY QUAIL. Lophortyx californica. Lophortyx californica vallicola. Two forms of this species are found on the Pacific coast: a northern race, inhabiting the coast of Califor- nia north of Monterey, and which has been introduced in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon, and a paler race found in the interior valleys and foothills of California, south through Lower California to Cape St. Lucas. In the California quail the flanks are streaked with white on a brown or grayish ground. The feathers of the belly, in the male, are edged with black, and have a central patch of chestnut. The upper parts generally are smoky brown, the inner edges of the tertiary feath- ers buffy, the throat black, and the forehead whitish. The female has no black or white on the head, is plain grayish or brownish, lacks the chestnut belly patch, and has the scale-like markings of the under part less dis- tinct. The crest is much shorter than in the male. The length is 9% or 10 inches, and the wing about 4%. This is the bird found in the coast valleys of Oregon and Washington and California. The valley quail (L. californica vallicola) is paler, being grayish brown, the inner edges of the tertiary 85 86 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING feathers whitish, and the flanks grayish brown. It is a bird of the interior districts of California and Oregon, south to Cape St. Lucas. The valley quail is an abundant species on the coasts of California, Oregon and Washington, and has been introduced on Vancouver Island and on a number of the islands of Puget Sound. This, according to Dr. Suckley, was done by Governor Charles H. Mason and Mr. Goldsborough, as early as the year 1857. They CALIFORNIA QUAIL have long been common on Whidbey Island and on Vancouver Island, where they make, according to my experience, far better shooting than they do in the dry country of California. Of the two races, the California quail belongs espe- cially to the coast, and the paler grayer form is found in the drier interior, from western and southern Ore- gon south, through western Nevada and interior Cali- fornia, to Cape St. Lucas, Lower California. This species is still abundant, and many broods are found on some California ranches. In some places they CALIFORNIA QUAIL; VALLEY QUAIL 87 are not popular, because believed to eat the grapes. Others more justly believe that the number of noxious insects devoured by the valley quail far exceeds in importance the small amount of fruit which they eat. In many places the too long open season and unrea- sonable bag limit have sadly depleted their numbers, and unless complete protection or restocking is re- sorted to this beautiful bird will become locally rare. The habits of this species differ very much in differ- ent localities. They are tough, hardy birds, and some- times surprise the ornithologists by turning up in places where they would not at all be expected. On the other hand, they sometimes suffer severely from cold and snow. Mr. A. C. Lowell, writing from Ft. Bidwell, in northeastern California, reported to Captain Bendire: “These birds are unable to stand the severe cold of this region, especially when accompanied. by a heavy fall of snow. In the winter of 1887-88 about two feet of snow fell, followed by three very severe nights in which the thermometer reached 28° below zero. This killed most of the birds. In the following fall I heard of but three or four coveys of quail within a radius of sixty miles, where thousands had been the year before. They ranged from the northern end of Warner Valley south to Reno, Nevada, and were especially numerous in Buffalo Canyon and along the western shore of Pyramid Lake. They were very common up to the summits of the Warner Mountains, which attain here an altitude of about 6,000 feet. Though the canyons 88 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING and water courses along those slopes were their favorite resorts, I have never seen nor heard of a covey of these quail down in the cultivated fields of the valleys. Here, at least, they prefer to live exclusively on the brushcovered hillsides.” On the other hand, we have known of cases in Cali- fornia where a brood of quail came regularly every evening to drink from the fountain immediately in front of a ranch house. In certain parts of southern California the quail has found the orange trees safe roosting places, and in the evening comes down from the brush-covered hills to the orchards. ’ In Lower California, Mr. A. W. Anthony found the valley partridge very common in the mountains up to an altitude of about 9,000 feet. He adds: “Both in southern and Lower California I was told by the Indians and native Mexicans that during very dry seasons the valley quail do not nest, but remain in flocks during the entire summer. This statement I was able to verify by personal observation during the summer of 1887. These birds were seen by me in large flocks throughout the spring and sum- mer months, and only two or three broods of young were noticed. Birds taken during April, May and June showed but little development of the ovaries. Should the winter rains, however, be sufficient to in- sure an abundance of seeds and grasses, the coveys begin to break up early in March, and from every hill in the land the loud challenge of the male is heard. The call notes of this sub-species are quite varied, fre- Nest of California Quail. CALIFORNIA QUAIL; VALLEY QUAIL 89 quently the same bird changing his call six or seven times within half an hour.” Mr. William Proud wrote Captain Bendire from Butte County, California, concerning this species, as follows: “Hundreds of these birds roost every night in the shrubbery around my house. Somme of them are very tame, feeding among the chickens and coming on the verandah. They appear to know that they are pro- tected. They mostly roost in thick brush, and on the ground when the brush is not at hand. In early sea- sons they begin to pair in the last week of February, but the time varies somewhat according to the season. During this period there is considerable fighting among the males for the favor of the coveted female. This is kept up until they are suitably mated and the nest- ing season arrives. This usually begins here about the last week in March, when the pairs scatter among the shrubbery along the banks and creeks and in adja- cent ravines, along hedgerows and brush fences, and on the borders of cultivated fields. The earliest nest I ever found was on March 15, and on April 15 I met young birds probably a couple of days old. I consider 14 eggs to be about the average number laid by these birds, and have found as many as 24 in a nest. The large sets I attribute to other hens laying in the nest, probably young birds which have failed to make preparation for their own eggs. On May 21 my dog pointed a valley partridge on her nest, which contained 22 eggs, and every one hatched. go AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING “During incubation the male is very attentive and watchful, usually taking an elevated position near the nest, where, with crest erect and tail spread, he bids defiance to all intruders, uttering an oft repeated whew-whew-whew. When the breeding hen leaves the nest to feed, should he be absent from the post of duty, her cry of tobacco-tobacco, very plainly given, brings him up at once... . “As soon as the young are hatched they immediately leave the nest, keeping under cover as much as possi- ble. Should the brood be disturbed, the old birds will run and flutter along the ground to draw the attention of the dog, or whatever may have frightened them, to themselves and away from the young. In about ten days these can fly a short distance. The valley par- tridge feeds on insects and the young and tender leaves of clover and green peas; later, on grain and various small seeds; in the fall they eat wild grapes, and are also very partial to the seeds of the amaranth, alse those of Mentzelia levicaulis. Here only one brood is raised in a season, and incubation, as nearly as I can ascertain, lasts about twenty-eight days.” The eggs of this species range from 12 to 16, nests occasionally, as already stated, containing many more. The eggs are cream-white in color, spotted and blotched with different shades of dark and light brown and drab scattered over the whole egg. GAMBEL’S QUAIL. Lophortyx gambel. This is a richly-colored bird, and has the flanks bright chestnut streaked with white. There are no scalelike markings on the belly, and the central patch is black, the forehead dark, and the back of the head red- dish. The upper parts are much as in L. californica. The female resembles that of L. californica vallicola, but has the flanks chestnut and the belly without any trace of scalelike markings. It is, perhaps, a little larger than the California partridge. Its range is north- western Mexico and the neighboring portions of the United States, from southern California and Arizona to western Texas, and north as far as southern Utah. Besides this, other species of this genus are found in Mexico, and in one or two of these the sexes are markedly unlike. Gambel’s quail is a dweller in the desert country of the south, and ranges from eastern southern Califor- nia through Arizona, and much of New Mexico, into western Texas. It is also found in southern Nevada and portions of Utah, and south into western Mexico. With a general similarity to the valley quail, it has gI g2 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING habits not unlike that species, except so far as these habits are modified by its different surroundings. Like many gallinaceous birds, Gambel’s quail is very social in habit, and at the proper season they get to- gether in great flocks, and when alarmed and driven to wing may get up all about one, only to disappear almost at once among the thick cover or in the distance. Dr. Coues, in his article on this species published in “The Birds of the Northwest,” designates the valleys of the Gila and Colorado as its centers of abundance. This article is well worth quoting in part, as painting charming pictures of a region little known to most sportsmen, but one of extreme interest. He says: “An interesting fact in the distribution of this species is the effect of the Colorado desert in shutting it off from the fertile portions of California. This dreary, sterile waste offers a barrier to its west- ward extension that is only exceptionally overcome. Although the birds enter the desert a little way, they rarely reach far enough to mix with the representative species of California (L. californicus). The strip of country that mostly assists in their occasional passage westward is along the Mojave River, a stream rising in the San Bernardino Mountains, and flowing eastward toward the Colorado, from which it is shut off by a range of hills, and consequently sinks in the desert at Soda Lake. Among other birds, the two kinds of plumed quail—Gambel’s and the California—meet along this comparatively fertile thoroughfare upon neu- tral ground, as Drs. Heermann and Cooper, as well as GAMBEL’S QUAIL 93 myself, have witnessed. Much further south Colonel McCall found birds at Alamo Mucho, forty-four miles west of the Colorado; but still the desert is in effect the barrier I have represented, and the two quails, speaking generally, do not meet. One wonders the less at this who has any good idea of the Colorado desert, such as may be gained, for example, from the following passage from Colonel McCall’s article, which remains associated in my mind with the plumed quails, with all the freshness of first impressions. Speaking of the Alamo, where he shot a pair, ‘Here is in truth a desert!’ exclaims the colonel. ‘Figure to yourself, if you can, a portion of this fair earth where for some hundreds of miles the whole crust seems to have been reduced to ashes by the action of internal fires; behold a vast plain of desolation, surrounded, and at intervals intersected, by abrupt mountain ranges which are little better than gigantic heaps of scoria. Imagine this scen- ery to be actually glowing under the direct rays of the midsummer sun, and you may have some idea of the prospect that meets the eye of the traveler who looks out upon the desert from the well of the Alamo. You may perceive in his rear a few stunted cottonwood trees, scattered along the edge of a channel in which appar- ently water once was, but now is not; while around him, here and there, is a light-leaved mesquite that stretches forth its slender arms and appears to invite him to a shade that is but a mockery. Here it was that I first heard the plaintive voice of this bird as he strove to cheer his mate while occupied in the tedious task 904. AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of incubation.’ And singularly enough, the bird is al- most equally hemmed in by desert to the eastward as well; for according to the same writer’s accounts, ‘A sandy desert between the Pecos and Devil’s River is the barrier beyond which the species under considera- tion has not extended its range.’ “Such a glimpse of the haunts of the plumed quail makes one wonder how it ever became a game bird at all; how sportsmen could be able to make game of it without being themselves rather made game of. But great as are the natural disadvantages of the surround- ings, the bird’s attractions are still greater, and partly so from this very fact; but Arizona is a large place, and one need not always endure desert in his quail-shoot- ing. There is a much brighter side to the picture. We have just seen only the darkest possible. Perhaps no territory rivals Arizona in variety of climate, physical geography and natural productions. Between rugged mountains that lift snow-capped peaks among the clouds, lie hidden pleasant green valleys whose fresh verdure contrasts with surrounding desolation. Vast primeval forests stretch for leagues, or are only inter- rupted by oak and cedar openings. Bright fringes of cottonwoods and willows mark the devious courses of streams, where walnut and cherry are scattered, and grape vines cling to them and roses bloom beneath leafy boughs. Here is plenty, at least, if not peace. Noth- ing mars the pleasures of the chase but the chances of being chased. Were it not for Indians, we should have here the acme of quail-shooting. GAMBEL’S QUAIL 95 “Gambel’s quail may be looked for in every kind of cover. Where they abound it is almost impossible to miss them, and coveys may often be seen on exposed sand heaps, along open roads, or in the cleared patches around settlers’ cabins. If they have any aversion, it is for thick, high pine woods without any undergrowth; there they only casually stray. They are particularly fond of the low, tangled brush along creeks, the dense groves of young willows that grow in similar places, and the close-set chaparral of hillocks or mountain ravines. “T have often found them also among huge granitic boulders and masses of lava, where there was little or no vegetation except some straggling leaves, and have flushed them from the dryer knolls in the midst of a reedy swamp. Along the Gila and Colorado they live in such brakes as I have described in speaking of Abert’s finch, and they frequent the groves of mes- quite and mimosa that form so conspicuous a feature of the scenery in those places. These scrubby trees form dense interlacing copses, only to be penetrated with the utmost difficulty ; but beneath their spreading, scrawny branches are open, intersecting ways, along which the quail roams at will, enjoying the slight shade. In the most sterile regions they are apt to come together in numbers about the few water-holes or moist spots that may be found, and remain in the vicinity, so that they become almost as good indication of the presence of water as the doves themselves. A noteworthy fact in their history is their ability to bear, without apparent 96 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING inconvenience, great extremes of temperature. They are seemingly at ease among the burning sands of the desert, where for months the thermometer daily marks a hundred, and may reach a hundred and forty, ‘in the best shade that could be procured,’ as Colonel McCall says; and they are equally at home, the year round, among the mountains, where snow lies on the ground in winter. “The quail’s food is made up of various substances. Like the rest of its tribe, it is chiefly granivorous, eat- ing seeds of every description; but fruits and insects form a large portion of its fare. It devours insects of such sorts as it can capture, and particularly those kinds that infest plants. In the fall it gathers cherries and grapes, and other ‘fruits,’ properly speaking, as well as the various berries not usually so called. It visits patches of the prickly pear (Opuntia), to feed upon the soft, juicy tunas, that are eaten by everything in Arizona, from men and bears to beetles. In the spring it shows fondness for the buds of different plants, particularly mesquite and willow; birds shot at this time are fre- quently found with sticky bits of the buds about their bills. But though they thus feed so extensively upon this substance containing salicine, I never noticed that the flesh acquired a bitter taste. There is, as yet, little cultivated grain in Arizona, but doubtless some future historian will have to add our cereals to the bird’s list, and speak of Gambel’s quail as frequenting old corn and wheat-fields and the neighborhood of hayricks, where a large share of its food is to be gleaned. Like GAMBEL’S QUAIL 97 other Galline, it swallows quantities of sand and gravel to facilitate, it is supposed, the trituration in the gizzard of the harder kinds of food. “T believe that the quail moults at least twice a year, but the spring change is apparently less complete, and certainly more gradual, than that of the fall, the birds seeming rather to furbish up a part of their plumage than to furnish themselves with entirely new attire. By the latter part of summer (at Fort Whipple) the plu- mage is faded and worn with incubation and the care of the young, and the renewal begins as soon as the latest brood is reared. The process is a long one, and the birds are rarely found at any season in such poor condition as to be unfit for preservation, nor are they ever deprived of flight. No crest is occasionally found for a short time in early autumn, but new feathers gen- erally sprout before all the old ones are dropped. I think they are shed from behind forward, so that the front ones are lost the last. The fully developed crest is a striking and beautiful ornament, hardly to be sur- passed in stylishness and jaunty effect. It averages an inch and a half in length, and sometimes reaches two inches in the most vigorous males; in the female it is rarely over an inch. The male’s is a glossy jet black; the female’s has a brownish cast. The number of feath- ers composing it is variable; five or six is usual, but there may be ten. They all spring from a single point on the top of the head—just behind the transverse white line that crosses the crown from eye to eye. The feath- ers are club-shaped, enlarged at the tip and curling over 98 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING forward, together forming a helmet-shaped bundle. The webs are loose; they bend backward from the shaft so that this forms the front border of the feather. Each feather is thus folded or imbricated over the next suc- ceeding, and the whole are packed into a single fascicle in this manner. The crest is freely movable, and its motions are subject to voluntary control. It is usually carried erect, but sometimes drops forward, or oblique- ly, over one eye, and occasionally is allowed to hang backward, though it cannot be made to lie close over the occiput. The crest sprouts when the chicks are only a few days old, about the time that the first true feathers appear upon the wings and tail... . “All quail are Precoces, as already explained, and the chicks of this species are certainly precocious little things, if we may judge by their actions when they are disturbed. They run about as soon as they are hatched, though probably not ‘with half shell on their backs,’ as some one has said. In a few days they become very nimble, and so expert in hiding that it is difficult either to see or catch them. When the mother bird is sur- prised with her young brood, she gives a sharp warning cry that is well understood to mean danger, and then generally flies a little distance to some concealed spot, where she crouches, anxiously watching. The fledg- lings, by an instinct that seems strange when we con- sider how short a time they have had any ideas at all, instantly scatter in all directions, and squat to hide as soon as they think they have found a safe place, remain- ing motionless until the reassuring notes of the mother GAMBEL’S QUAIL 99 call them together again with an intimation that the alarm is over. Then they huddle close around her, and she carefully leads them off to some other spot where she looks for greater security in the enjoyment of her hopes and pleasing cares. As long as they require the parents’ attention they keep close together, and are averse to flying. Even after becoming able to use their wings well they prefer to run and hide, or squat where they may be, when alarmed. If then forced up, the young covey flies off, without spreading, to a little dis- tance, often realighting on the lower limbs of trees or in bushes, rather than on the ground. As they grow older and stronger of wing they fly further, separate more readily, and more rarely take to trees; and some time before they are full grown they are found to have already become wary and difficult of approach. As one draws near where a covey is feeding, a quick, sharp cry from the bird who first notices the approach, alarms the whole, and is quickly repeated by the rest as they start to run, betraying their course by the rustling of dry leaves. Let him step nearer, and they rise with a whirr, scattering in every direction. “Newly hatched birds may be found all summer, and incubation goes on from, say, early in May until the middle of August. Not that any single pair are en- gaged so long, but that different broods may be hatched during all this time. A greater number of old birds pair in April, and hatch their first brood some time during the following month. Most of them doubtless raise another. Others appear to defer incubation for 100 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING a month or two, and have but one brood. The first chicks that I saw in the summer of 1865 were hatched in May, and I found others the same year only a few days old in August; but by this month almost all the birds of the year were well grown, and by September were in condition to offer legitimate sport. In Octo- ber a few are fotind not yet ready to be shot; but the great majority are as large as the parents, and nearly as strong of wing. The season may, therefore, be said to begin in October and continue into March; but birds should not be pursued later than the middle of this month, for although few birds, if any, actually mate before April, it is cruel, as well as injudicious, to dis- turb them while they are preparing to do so. The be- ginning of the pairing season may be known to be at hand when certain peculiar cries, different from any usually emitted during the fall and winter, are heard. “These notes are a sign that the coveys are breaking up and mating is about to commence. They are analo- gous to the bobwhite of the eastern quail (Ortyx vir- ginianus), and are uttered, as with that species, more particularly in the breeding season. The note is a loud, energetic, two-syllable whistle, delivered in a clear, ringing tone. It is difficult to write down intelligently, but, once heard, is not likely to be afterward mistaken, except for one of the cries of the black-headed gros- beak. It sounds to my ears something like the forcible pronunciation of the syllables killink, killink, indefinite- ly repeated, sometimes in a rising and sometimes with a falling intonation. The old cocks, if they can be “ABAING [eoIBo]OIg *§ “AQ ey} Jo UOTssIuIed Ag Trend syequey GAMBEL’S QUAIL IOI seen so engaged, are found strutting along some fallen log or gesticulating from the top of some broad rock or stepping with dignified air along the pathway under the bushes; sometimes even perched in a tree or bush, without other motion than the heaving of the chest; but wherever they may be, they have one mind in com- mon, their only thought to secure the admiration and then the favor of birds more modest if not more fair. “A beautiful sight it is to see the enamored birds pressing suit with all the pomp and circumstance of their brilliant courtships—the firm and stately tread, with body erect, of comely shape, displayed to best ad- vantage ; the quivering wings, the motion of the plumes, that wave like the standard of knights errant, the flash- ing eyes—bespeak proud consciousness of masculine vigor. The beautiful bird glances defiance, and chal- lenges loudly, eager for a rival; but none disputes, and he may retire, his rights proven. Only a gentler bird is near, hidden in a leafy bower, whence she watches, admiring his bearing, fascinated by the courage she sees displayed, hoping every moment that the next will bring him, dreading lest it may. As their eyes meet she trembles, and would turn to fly, but cannot; his glow again, but with a different light, even more in- tense than before. With an exultant cry he flies straight to her, and, like the true knight he is, for just one instant bends till his breast touches the ground, and is then erect again. He leans toward her, half spreads his wing over her, and pleads in an undertone. She 102 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING listens, but draws away; she listens, but only stands irresolute; she listens, and, listening, yields. “They must prepare for new duties. With deep sense of responsibility and earnest solicitude the pair now cast about for a suitable spot for their home. They search through the tall, rank herbage alongside the stream, through the willow copses, among fallen moss- covered logs that are scattered around the glen, and at length make up their minds. Little more is needed than to fix upon the spot, for the nest is a simple affair, the work of a few hours, perhaps, scratching a suitable depression and lining it with a few dried grasses pressed together. Day by day eggs are laid, till a dozen or more fill the nest. They cannot be distinguished from those of the California quail. They measure an inch and a quarter in length by an inch in breadth, and are almost pyramidal in shape, the larger end flat- tish and very broad, the other narrow and pointed. The color is a buff, or rich cream, dotted and spotted all over with bright brown, and splashed here and there with large blotches of the same. When the fe- male is not pressed to lay, the pair ramble about to- gether in close company until the complement is fin- ished. Then she gives up all recreation, grown already quite sober and maternal, and resolutely sets about her long tour of duty. But she is not forgotten because she can no longer share the idle pleasures of her lord. Mounted on a stump or bush near by, he stands watch, and continually solaces her with the best music he can make. It is not very harmonious, to be sure; in fact, GAMBEL’S QUAIL 103 his ditty at such times is a medley of odd notes, sound- ing rather lugubrious than hilarious, but it is presum- ably satisfactory to the one most concerned. So the long days pass, for two weeks or more, till feeble cries come from the nest; the mother dries and cuddles the curious little things, and the delighted birds, brimful of joy, lead their family off in search-of food. “From the number of eggs sometimes found in a nest it becomes a question whether birds, hard pressed, may not occasionally deposit in nests not their own. We have no positive evidence that it may occur, but observation has rendered it highly probable, and such is the case with some other birds, as the rails and, I think, the Virginia quail. However this may be, it is pretty certain that broods of young sometimes coalesce at a varying time after hatching. I do not remember to have myself seen a covey of more than twenty, but it is currently reported upon good authority that troops numbering as many as fifty partly grown birds, and including several old ones, may be met with. This raises, of course, the question of polygamy, so common in birds of this order, and something may be said in favor of the view. The same surmise has been made in the case of L. californicus, but I believe it remains to be proven. I am bound to observe that I have never witnessed anything supporting this view... . “Man is, I suppose, the quail’s worst enemy; what the White does with dog and gun the Red accomplishes with ingenious snares. The Indians take great num- bers alive in this way, for food or to trade with the 104 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING whites along the Colorado, and they use the crests for a variety of purposes that they consider ornamental. I saw a squaw once who had at least a hundred of them strung on a piece of rope-yarn for a necklace. But the birds have other foes : the larger hawks prey upon them, so also do the wolves, as I had good evidence upon one occasion, when hunting in a precipitous, rocky place near Fort Whipple. I heard a covey whispering about me as they started to run off in the weeds, and fol- lowed them up to get a shot. They passed around a huge boulder that projected from the hillside, and then, to my surprise, suddenly scattered on wing in every direction, some flying almost in my face. At the same instant a wolf leaped up from the grass where he had been hiding, a few feet off, intending to waylay the covey, and looking very much disappointed, not to say disgusted, at the sudden flight. We had marked the covey together, and were hunting it up from opposite sides, and neither of us could account for their flushing so unexpectedly. Then he caught sight of me, and it was a question which of us was most surprised. How- ever, I felt that I owed him a private grudge for get- ting in the way of the birds and spoiling my shot, so I fired both barrels in quick succession. With nothing but mustard seed in my gun, I hardly expected to more than frighten the beast, but he was so near that he rolled over quite handsomely, his hindquarters para- lyzed with the charge, which took effect in the small of the back. I kept his skin as a trophy, and since that time have had unlimited confidence in small shot.” GAMBEL’S QUAIL 105 This account was written, I believe, as long ago as 1872, or 1873, but it remains the best description of Gambel’s partridge that has been writtten. The birds appear to be as numerous in their range as ever they were, and with the increase of water which goes with the progress of irrigation in Arizona and New Mexico they are likely to increase still further. Captain Bendire cites an observation of Mr. Herbert Brown, of Tucson, Arizona, which shows that the Gila monster (Heloderma) eats the eggs of this species. MASSENA QUAIL. Cyrtonyx montezume mearnst. This handsome and highly-colored bird is of the southwest, and until very recently has never been pur- sued for sport, though often killed for meat. In ap- pearance it is unlike any of our United States par- tridges, having large feet, a full, soft crest, and being more or less dotted below with large round spots of pure white. The sides of the head are marked with black and white stripes; the chin, throat, and a band across the fore neck, are all black; the crest is brownish; the upper parts are brown, barred and spotted with black and streaked with white, buff or reddish. The wing quills are spotted with white on their outer webs, while the thighs, belly and under tail coverts are black. The flanks and sides are lead-color, marked with many round spots of pure white, and the middle line is chest- nut. The female is paler everywhere, but has the upper parts streaked and barred as in the male. The head lacks the distinctive white and black stripes, and the sides are slightly barred with black. Length, 8% to 9 inches; wing, about 5, or a little more. This quail is found in western Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and well down into western and central Mexico. The typi- 106 MASSENA QUAIL 107 cal montezume and other species occur in Mexico. One found in Guatemala and southern Mexico has the flanks chestnut instead of lead-color. This bird was described as long ago as 1830, yet for many years thereafter little or nothing was known about it, and it was only in 1890 that the eggs were found and described. XY BGS Er : 5 EL ty MEARNS, OR MASSENA QUAIL The Massena quail, or, as it is now called, the Mon- tezuma quail, is notable for its odd and beautiful col- oring and for its extraordinary simplicity and lack of suspicion, a quality which is reflected in the name “fool quail,” given it in some sections. This title, commonly enough applied to certain unsuspicious grouse and quail, is an unintentional testimonial by man to his own bloodthirstiness, declaring in effect that any bird or ani- mal must be a fool that does not know that civilized 108 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING man is a natural butcher. It takes wild things some time to realize that there are no gentle men, and obvi- ously this lesson is learned more slowly by birds or animals living in places unfrequented by man than in regions where he is more numerous. Even the ruffed grouse, which, in thickly settled regions, is the wisest, wildest and most wary of birds, is in some localities so unafraid that the passer-by who will tie a noose of cord on the end of a six-foot pole, may pass the loop over the bird’s head and drag it from its perch. The Mearns quail is reported to be less graceful in carriage and less elegant in shape than some of its rela- tives which inhabit the same region, but may not this be only another way of stating that it is unsuspicious and not easily alarmed? The wariest of gallinaceous birds, if ignorant of the presence of an enemy, carries its feathers more or less loosely, walks with a short neck, and has a rounded back, thus presenting an ap- pearance very different from the same bird when it is startled or alarmed and about to take to flight. Then the neck is stretched upward, the bird stands high on its legs, all its feathers are pressed close to its body, its crest is raised, and it stands there alert and pre- pared to dart away at a second’s warning. In Texas this bird is known as the black quail, or the black-bellied quail, while, as said, in Arizona, on account of its gentle nature it is called fool quail. It is said to frequent rocky ravines heading well up into the mountains, but of recent years has come to the ranches, and is found feeding in the green fields. Cap- MASSENA QUAIL 109 tain Bendire says that in Mexico he has several times seen them living contentedly in cages. Capt. W. L. Carpenter saw the Massena partridge in the Rio Grande Valley, near Taos, Mexico, and on the headwaters of the Black and White rivers, where he believed it bred. In the breeding season, in Arizona, they are said to frequent live-oak scrub and patches of rank grass, at an altitude of seven to nine thousand feet. “Here,” according to Mr. John Swinburne, writ- ing to Captain Bendire, “they are summer residents, only descending to much lower altitudes in winter. They lie very close at all times, allowing one to almost step on them before they move. I have seen this species on the White Mountains during the breeding season, and saw young birds of the year shot there. Even the adults seemed very stupid when suddenly flushed, and after flying short distances would alight and at- tempt to hide in most conspicuous places. I have seen men follow and kill them by throwing stones.” Captain Bendire also quotes Mr. G. W. Todd, as follows: “T first met with the Massena partridge in Bandera County, Texas, in 1883, where they are very scarce, and I learned but little of its habits for a long time. They are very simple and unsuspicious, and apparently live so much in barren and waste places that they do not see enough of man to make them afraid. On see- ing a person they generally squat at once, or run a little way and hide. They will hardly fly until one is almost on them, but when they finally do fly they go much IIO AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING further than either the Texan bobwhite or the scaled partridge, and on alighting they run rapidly for a lit- tle distance and then squat again, generally flushing easier the second time. It is rare to see more than six together; two or three are more often met with. In the fall of 1886 I found a covey of five, on a wet and misty day, and killed three of them with a Win- chester rifle before the remaining two flew. I never found their eggs nor met with small young until this year. I saw but a single bird this season, and this seemed to be entirely alone. They are not very abun- dant here, and are always found in the most barren places, among rocks and wastes where even prickly pear is stunted and no bush grows over three feet high. When scared they utter a kind of whistling sound, a curious combination between a chuckle and a whistle, and while flying they make a noise a good deal like a prairie hen, though softer and less loud, like chuc-chuc-chuc, rapidly repeated. “The only nest of this species I have ever seen was situated under the edge of a big bunch of a coarse spe- cies of grass, known as ‘hickory grass.’ This grass grows out from the center, and hangs over on all sides until the blades touch the ground. It is a round, hard- stemmed grass, and only grows on the most sterile soil. According to my observations, the Massena partridge is seldom seen in other localities than where this grass grows. I was riding at a walk up the slope of a bar- ren hill, when my horse almost stepped on a nest, touch- ing just the rim of it. The bird gave a startled flut- MASSENA QUAIL III ter, alighting again within three feet of the nest, and not over six feet from me; then she walked away with her crest slightly erected, utering a low chuckling whistle, until lost to view behind a Spanish bayonet plant (Yucca) about thirty feet off. I was riding a rather unruly horse, and had to return about thirty yards, to tie him to a yucca, before I should examine the nest. This was placed in a slight depression, pos- sibly dug out by some animal, the top of the nest being on a level with the earth around it. It was well lined with fine stalks of wire-grass almost exclusively, the cavity being about five inches in diameter and two inches deep. At the back, next to the grass, it was slightly arched over, and the overhanging blades of grass hid it entirely from sight. The nest was more carefully made than the average bobwhite’s nest, and very nicely concealed.” The food of the Massena quail, in western Texas and New Mexico, appears to consist of small bulbs, to se- cure which the birds often dig or scratch out holes to the depth of two inches. In the mountains they also eat acorns, mountain laurel, tubers of nut grass, cedar and other berries. The nest is likely to be built on a hillside, sometimes well hidden, and often sunk quite deeply in the ground. The eggs seem to run from 8 to Io in number. They are pure white in color, and, while often glossy, are sometimes more or less rough and granulated. As already stated, the Massena quail is scarcely pur- II2 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING sued for sport, and on this point Mr. Herbert Brown, of Tucson, Arizona, writes me as follows: “The Massena quail, or, as it is now called, Monte- zuma quail, will lie well to a dog, but, practically speak- ing, they are not hunted as a game bird; in fact, not hunted at all. They are mountainous in their habits, and are not commonly killed. “This bird, among the Mexicans, is known as ‘guinea,’ and also as ‘chacalaca.’ The latter word is commonly applied to persons of garrulous or talkative dispositions. As-the male bird, when strutting among the females, keeps up a continual clatter, the Mexican people, with their readiness for characterization, call them ‘chacalaca.’ “Tt is among the most peculiar of our game birds, and I much regret that it is so little known. Of all the quail it is the most easily domesticated. Some years ago a young female was sent to me from Sonora. As I then had no means of keeping it, I gave it to a friend. It was raised about the house, and was as tame as a pet chicken. A swinging door led into the kitchen, and it was always careful to await its opportunity, and make its run through as the door swung open. Some years ago I heard of a small bunch on the Sonoita that fed regularly with the chickens at the ranch house. Ata ranch house on the Sopre two adult birds took up with the chickens, and in the spring following raised a brood of little ones, some four or five of which grew to ma- turity. Eventually they fell into disfavor and were driven away or killed. This was due to the pugnacity MASSENA QUAIL 113 of the male bird. They appeared to have no use for the chickens, and were continually fighting them with- out provocation. The big ones could stand it, but the little ones were the sufferers.” THE AMERICAN GROUSE Tetraonide@. The differences between the American grouse and quail have been pointed out in two earlier chapters, but, nevertheless, may be repeated here. The feet of all the grouse are covered with hair-like feathers. In this group a tuft of small feathers runs forward from the forehead along each side of the bill and covers the nostrils, while in the quails the nostril is naked and is protected by an overhanging scale. All the grouse have on head over the eyes narrow patches of naked skin, and most or all of them have on the sides of the neck bare patches, which are often inflatable. The pectinations on the toes of the grouse are shed annually. Mr. Manly Hardy of Brewer, Me., informs me that in the ruffed grouse the whole scaly envelope of the foot is shed each year. The grouse are usually large birds, while the quail are small, and in the grouse the tail is usually long, while in all the quail it is short. The outline drawings, showing the bill, foot, wing and tail of the various grouse and quail will assist those who desire to learn these characters. 114 ~ DUSKY GROUSE. Dendragapus obscurus. Dendragapus obscurus fuliginosus. Dendragapus obscurus richardsoni. Dendragapus obscurus sierre. The dusky grouse is the largest of the American wood grouse, sometimes weighing four pounds. Above, the male is dusky gray or dull black, usually more or less waved with fine, blacker lines. Sometimes there is a variety of light and dark color on the back and wings, producing a mottled effect. The tail is black with a gray band across the end, usually from half an inch to an inch wide. The under parts are slaty gray, somewhat streaked with white on the flanks. The bird is from twenty to twenty-three inches long, and is stout and graceful. On the side of the neck there is a patch of white surrounding a naked, inflatable bare space which is hardly, or not at all, to be seen, except during the breeding season. The throat is also white or very pale. The much smaller female is grayish or brownish in color, marked with spots and bars of blackish. This is the typical dusky or blue grouse, and is found in the Rocky Mountains, west as far as they ex- tend, east to the Black Hills, south to the Mogollon 115 116' AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Mountains of western New Mexico and the White Mountains of middle eastern Arizona. The sub-species, known as the sooty grouse, is found on the northwest coast in the region of great precipitation, north to DUSKY GROUSE southern Alaska and southern Yukon. It is darker colored, with a narrower tail band, lacks the whitish space on the side of the neck and has the throat darker. Often or usually the scapulars or shoulder feathers are without distinct white streaks or spots. DUSKY GROUSE 117 The adult female is much darker than the typical dusky grouse, and often has the upper parts distinctly reddish, instead of being merely gray or buffy. Richardson’s grouse, found in the northern Rocky Mountains, has the tail without the terminal band of gray; otherwise it is much like the dusky grouse, but usually the tail feathers are broader and the tail more even. There are certain places in the Rocky Moun- tains—for example, in northwestern Montana—where the dusky grouse and Richardson’s grouse intergrade, and often it is impossible to say to which form a speci- men belongs. In this latter region the female is often gray, black mottled, with little or no tinge of buff. The sierra grouse, with a narrower tail band than the typical form, is found in the region from Fort Klamath, Oregon, south, through the mountains of California, to Mount Pifios, near old Fort Tejon. The dusky grouse, although not at all known by east- ern sportsmen, is yet easily the finest of our American species. It is exceeded in size only by the sage grouse, but in beauty, in edible qualities and in the sport it furnishes it far excels that species. The dusky grouse is found in all the mountain re- gions of the farther West, from Alaska south as far as the White Mountains of Arizona. Naturalists sepa- rate it into four forms, as given above; but in habits, and in the qualities which interest the gunner, all are much alike. It is not a migratory bird, but remains essentially in one locality throughout the year, al- though, like many mountain-dwelling birds and mam- 118 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING mals, the altitude at which it lives changes with the changing season. One of the earliest spring sounds in the country where the dusky grouse are found is the hooting of the male, a booming or blowing sound analogous to the grating song of the sage grouse or the tooting of the pinnated grouse. The call possesses a certain ven- triloquial quality, which makes it exceedingly difficult to follow, and it is often hard to locate the bird that is uttering it. A similar difficulty is usually found in attempting to follow up the drumming of the ruffed grouse. This call and the accompanying mating ac- tions were well described by a correspondent, ‘“‘Stand- stead,” in Forest and Stream twenty years ago. He wrote: “While driving near the city. [Victoria, B. C.] with the veteran shot, R. Maynard, we saw a pair of blue grouse quite near the trail, and the cock bird gave us a most entertaining exhibition of the charms that he displays in wooing his mate. Like a turkey cock he strutted about with his wings trailing on the ground, his tail feathers erect and spread out fart-like to their fullest extent, his neck distended, and on each side of his neck the feathers were turned out so as to resemble a pair of round white rosettes, nearly three inches in diameter, with an oblong red spot in their center, where the skin of the neck was exposed. His head seemed to be crowned with a fiery red comb. Excepting the rosettes, he was in appearance a miniature turkey gob- -bler. Every few seconds he would strut up to his de- mure but sleek-looking mate, puff out his neck and Sierra Dusky Grouse and young. From group in American Museum of Natural History. DUSKY GROUSE 119 with a jerky movement of his head utter his boom, or hoot, boom-boom-boom. As he grew more and more demonstrative in his actions, his modest mate flew up to an overhanging limb to escape his familiari- ties, and we drove away, leaving him still strutting on the ground underneath the tree where his mate sat perched.” Another writer refers to the sound uttered at this season by the male dusky grouse as “growling” or “groaning,” and notes, as have many others, the pe- culiarity that when near it often seems quite distant, and when distant it sometimes seems near, appearing to come from every direction but the true one. The female usually makes her nest in the open at the foot of the mountains, quite a little way from the timber, perhaps under some little clump of brush at the foot of a steep bluff, partly clad with pines, or perhaps among the aspens in some mountain valley. The eggs vary in number from seven to fifteen, and perhaps are oftenest nearer the smaller number. They are buffy in color and are usually more or less thickly spotted with fine dots of reddish brown or even choco- late. These dots and spots are usually quite distinct and seldom or never run into blotches and cloudings, as is usually the case with the eggs of the ptarmigan. After the nest is constructed and the eggs are laid, the male leaves his mate and by slow stages betakes himself to the mountain-tops, where, in midsummer, old cocks and barren hens are found in the extreme edge of the timber, and very often on the alpine mea- 120 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING dows and amid the rocks above timber line. The female all through the summer, leads her brood of little ones about where insects, berries and seeds are most accessible. Like many other grouse, if her young are closely approached she feigns to be hurt, and runs off with dragging wings and seemingly feeble footsteps to lure the enemy to pursue her; but, after she has been followed for a little distance, takes wing and flies off up the mountain, to return on foot when the danger is past. By the middle of July the young are usually somewhat larger than quails, and at this time, instead of immediately hiding when approached, they take wing for a short flight, and, immediately on reach- ing the ground, hide, lying as close as any birds that ‘I have ever seen. At such times, if the ground be fairly open, it is not difficult to see them as they crouch close to the earth, but as soon as they recognize that your eye has caught them, they spring into the air for another flight. I recall one morning when, traveling along a little valley, with a companion, we started several broods of well-grown young, of which we killed seventeen by shooting their heads off with our rifles. The birds were needed for food for the camp. As the young birds grow larger and more hardy, the mother leads them higher up the mountain, and by the end of August or first of September they are feeding among the green timber, at which time their principal food in some localities is a species of low- growing red huckleberry. By September or October the birds are nearly as large as the parent, and long be- DUSKY GROUSE I2I fore this it is their practice when disturbed to fly up into the branches of the pines, where they stand erect with feathers pressed close to their bodies, each looking for all the world like a broken-off dead branch. Often in August or September broods of these birds may be found on the bare mountain-side, feeding on the huckleberries, or among low sarvis trees. In such a case splendid and very easy shooting may be had at these great birds, but if a flock be scattered in the tim- ber, or among thick alders, the shooting is quite as difficult as that of the eastern ruffed grouse. Although these birds can know little about the shotgun, they are often quite as acute as the partridge in putting the trunk of a tree or a clump of bushes between the gun- ner and themselves. On the other hand, when they take refuge in the branches of a tree, and stand there watching you, they will often permit half-a dozen shots to be fired at them without moving, unless hit. In Captain Bendire’s admirable account of the sooty grouse, the northwestern form of D. obscurus, he quotes a letter from Captain (now General) T. E. Wilcox, in which the writer says: “TI once caught a mother grouse with a fish hook. I had my rod on my shoulder and suddenly came upon a covey about the size of quails and caught one with my hands. This made the old bird frantic; she attacked me, and alight- ing on my rod, the hook pierced her foot. I was pulling her in when my leader broke and she flew off. Of course, I released her chicken. I killed a male in the Boise Mountains, December 2, 1879, which I22 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING weighed three pounds ten ounces; but some killed by me in the Cascade Mountains seemed to be much larger. While on Lake Chelan in 1883, hunting white goats, I flushed a covey of grouse and here heard for the first time the call note of the female for her young. It was low, but distinct, something like that made by the bobwhite just before it flushes. At this time, the last of August, the birds were well grown. I have always found these birds near water. In 1881, while going to Indian Valley, Idaho, I rode past some, one being near enough to touch with a switch I had in my hand, yet they all walked out of the trail as quietly as domestic fowls would have done and then resumed their dusting.” Richardson’s grouse, the form of the dusky grouse found in the northern Rocky Mountains from southern Montana, north far into British America, resem- bles in habits the other forms and is quite abundant. About the Continental Divide, specimens are some- times seen which show approach to obscurus, or to the sooty grouse. In many places, where seldom disturbed by man, they are exceedingly gentle and unsuspicious, and a brood will walk slowly along before one, feed- ing and calling to one another in a particularly inno- cent and attractive way. It is stated that the birds spend their winters largely among the branches of the pine trees, and that they feed to a very great extent on the pine needles. Mrs. Florence Merriam Bailey says of the winter habits of the dusky grouse in New Mexico: ‘asnorg Aysnq DUSKY GROUSE 123 “Near our camp by the foot of Pecos Baldy, Mr. Bailey discovered a winter roosting tree of the grouse. The tree was on a sheltered part of the wooded slope and was so densely branched that after a prolonged rain the ground beneath was perfectly dry. The earth was strewn with winter droppings, composed entirely of the leaves of conifers. Conifer needles had also been eaten by three of the grouse that were taken... in July and August, but at this season the birds were living principally on such fresh food as strawberries, bearberries (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi), sheperdia ber- ries, flowers of the lupine and paint brush, seeds, green leaves, grasshoppers, caterpillars, ants and other in- sects. But one crop contained twenty-seven strawber- ries, twenty-eight bearberries and twelve sheperdia berries, besides flowers, leaves and insects, while the accompanying gizzard was filled with seeds, green leaves and insects.” In some sections of the West the dusky grouse are reported to pack in the autumn, forming very large flocks, but I have never seen anything of the kind. Usually, in my. experience, only the members of a single brood, ranging in numbers from eight to twenty, are found together. Sometimes, however, in summer, on the high peaks, flocks of a dozen old males are found associated together. It is said that in Colorado and parts of Montana, where grain is grown adjacent to the mountains or the timber occupied by the dusky grouse, the birds are frequently found feeding on the stubble fields. If this 124 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING is the fact they: must give great shooting in such situations. It is readily conceivable that this bird might be in- troduced into the mountains of the Eastern States— for example, in New England, Pennsylvania, Virginia and North Carolina, and in these sections, if for a time protected, might establish itself. In the West it is usually found at altitudes much higher than these, though, in summer, females and young broods of the dusky grouse inhabit essentially the same territory as the ruffed grouse. The dusky grouse has but three vernacular names commonly in use—blue grouse, pine grouse and gray grouse. Dusky grouse and blue grouse are the two most common. CANADA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE. Canachites canadensis. Canachites canadensis osgoodi. Canachites canadensis canace. Two small wood grouse, notable for their extreme simplicity and lack of fear of man, are found in the evergreen country, Canadian life zone, of the east, north and west. Of these the first is the Canada grouse, a small, blackish bird, variously marked below with spots of white and with the tail tipped with rusty red- dish. The male above is black, waved with dark gray, and beneath black; its throat bordered with white, many of the feathers tipped with white; the sides and the flanks marked by long white streaks. The female is barred with black and rusty, but has the sides and the scapulars or shoulder feathers streaked with white. The tips of the tail feathers are bright rusty. Length, 144 inches; wing about 7 inches and tail 5 inches. It is found in northern New England, New York, Michi- gan, Minnesota and through Canada to Alaska. The three forms of the Canada grouse are very closely related, and, from the sportsman’s viewpoint, hard to separate. True canadensis is restricted to the northern part of the range—eastern flanks of the Rocky Mountains west of Edmonton, Alberta, easterly to Labrador Peninsula, and Alaska from Bristol Bay 125 126 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING to Cook Inlet and Prince William Sound; osgoodi to Mount McKinley Range and Yukon region, east to Great Slave and Athabaska Lakes; canace to Mani- toba, southern Ontario and New Brunswick, south to northern Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, New York and New England. Another race, atratus, has been de- scribed from the coast region of Alaska. The Canada grouse is not a familiar bird to the TAIL OF CANADA GROUSE sportsman, and is scarcely ever shot over dogs, but the angler and traveler through the wilderness of the North often meets it in the depths of the forest. There is little to be said about shooting it, but in its life his- tory there is much that is worth recording. Most of this has already been written down in works on natural history, but as many of these are not easily accessible to sportsmen, it is well to repeat some of these facts. This is one of the most unsuspicious and least fear- ful of man of all the grouse. Often it may be killed by stones or sticks thrown at it, or a noose of twine CANADA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE 127 tied to the end of a stick may be passed over its head as it sits on a limb, and it may thus be dragged from its perch. A bird of such confiding disposition would not afford much sport, and besides this the deep forests which this species inhabits are far from the usual haunts of the gunner. The range of the Canada grouse extends from northern New England, north through Labrador, west to northern Minnesota and northwestward to Alaska. We have seen them on the shores of Prince William Sound and Cook Inlet in that territory. Its northern limit, according to Swainson, extends to the parallel of 67°. It is not migratory, and breeds wherever found, and its favorite home is in the dense swamps and ever- green thickets of the north land. It is upon the buds and leaves of these evergreens that it chiefly feeds, and from this food its flesh often takes a resinous taste that is not agreeable. The breeding season is in May or June, according to latitude. The mating actions of the male—his drum- ming—differ much from those of other grouse. Major Bendire quotes a correspondent as saying: ‘‘After strutting back and forth for a few minutes the male flew straight up as high as the surrounding trees, about fourteen feet; here he remained stationary an instant, and while on suspended wing did the drumming with the wings, resembling distant thunder, meanwhile dropping down slowly to the spot from where he started, to repeat the same thing over and over again.” Mr. Everett Smith says in Forest and Stream: “The 128 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Canada grouse performs its drumming upon the trunk of a standing tree of rather small size, preferably one that is inclined from the perpendicular, and in the following manner: Commencing near the base of the tree selected, the bird flutters upward with some- what slow progress, but rapidly beating wings, which produce the drumming sound. Having thus ascended fifteen or twenty feet, it glides quietly on wing to the ground and repeats the maneuver. Favorite places are resorted to habitually, and these drumming trees are well known to observant woodsmen. I have seen one that was so well worn upon the bark as to lead to the belief that it had been used for this purpose for many years. This tree was a spruce of six inches diameter, with an inclination of about fifteen degrees from the perpendicular, and was known to have been used as a drumming tree for several seasons. The upper surface and sides of the tree were so worn by the feet and wings of the bird or birds using it for drumming, that for a distance of twelve or fifteen feet the bark had become quite smooth and red as if rubbed.” Major Bendire quotes Manly Hardy as saying: “My father, who had opportunities to see them drumming, told me they drum in the air while descending from a tree. They would fly up on a tree and then start off and drum on their way to the ground like a Quaker grasshopper. When on the ground they scratch a great deal more than other grouse do.” CANADA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE 129 Thus there seems to be a wide individual variation in the practice of this nuptial performance. The number of eggs laid by the Canada grouse varies from nine to thirteen, though rarely two or three more may be found ina nest. The ground color of the eggs is buff, and they are irregularly spotted and blotched with reddish brown, which sometimes is very dark. Speci- mens are rarely seen with few or no markings. A number of years ago, Mr. Watson L. Bishop, of Kentville, Nova Scotia, was successful in domesticat- ing some Canada grouse, and he contributed to Forest and Stream many interesting observations on the hab- its of these birds in confinement. He says: “As the nesting season approaches I prepare suitable places for them by placing spruce boughs in such a way as to form cozy little shelters, where the birds will be pretty well concealed from view. I then gather up some old dry leaves and grass and scatter it about on the ground, near where I have prepared a place for the nest. The bird pays no attention to this until she wants to lay. She will then select one of these places, and after scratching a deep cup-shaped place in the ground, de- posit in it her eggs. When the hen is on the nest she is continually making a kind of cooing sound, which I have never heard them make on any other occasion. If there should be sufficient material within easy reach of the nest, the bird will sometimes cover the eggs up, but not in all cases. “No nesting material is taken to the nest until after three or four eggs are laid. After this number has 130 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING been deposited, the hen, after laying an egg, and while leaving the nest, will pick up straws, grass and leaves, or whatever suitable material is at hand, and throw it backward over her back as she leaves the nest, and by the time the set is complete, quite a quantity of this litter is collected about the nest. She will then sit or her nest and reach out and gather in the nesting ma- terial and place it about her, and, when completed, the nest is very deep and nicely bordered with grass and leaves. “So strong is the habit or instinct of throwing the nesting materials over the back, that they will fre- quently throw it away from the nest, instead of to- ward it, as the hen will sometimes follow a trail of material that will turn her right about, so that her head is toward the nest, but all the time she will con- tinue to throw what she picks up over her back. This, of course, is throwing the material away from the nest. Discovering her mistake, she will then right about face and pick up the same material that an instant before was being thrown away, and throw it over her back again, toward the nest. “The way they will steal eggs from one another would do credit to a London pickpocket. Two hens had their nests near together, perhaps two feet apart, and as each hen laid every other day, one nest would be vacant while the other would be occupied. The hen that laid last would not go away until she had stolen the nest egg from the other nest and placed it in her own. I once saw a hen attempt to steal an egg ‘az8[q Suoqnpny worg \ ‘aSNoIN Bpeuey CANADA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE = 131 from another nest that was twenty feet away. She worked faithfully at it for half an hour or more, but did not succeed in moving the coveted egg more than about eight feet, it being uphill. The egg so fre- quently got away from her, and rolled back a foot or more each time, that she at last got disgusted and gave up the task. “On going to the pen one evening I found one of the hens on the nest, and I knew she was beginning to set, as all the others had gone to roost. Slipping my hand under her, I found three eggs—the nest egg, the one just laid, and the one stolen from the other nest. I picked two of them up and held them before her, when she all at once placed her bill over the one held between my thumb and fore finger and tried to pull it out of my hand; I did not let her have it, however, and she immediately stepped upon the side of the nest, and placing her bill over the remaining egg, drew it up out of the nest and pushed it back out of sight, as much as to say: ‘You have two, and that is all you can have.’ I must confess that it was with great reluctance I took these eggs from her, she pleaded so hard for them. “The male bird begins to strut in March. I re- member very well the first time I saw one strutting. I had obtained the bird in the fall, and he used to sit about bunched up almost in a round ball, as the female did, until one morning, when I went to feed them, I found him strutting. His attitude was so different 132 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING that one would scarcely have known it was the same bird. “T will describe as nearly as I can his conduct and at- titude while strutting. The tail stands almost erect, the wings are slightly raised from the body and a little drooped, the head is still well up, and the feathers of ~the breast and throat are raised, and standing out in regular rows, with the feathers of the nape and hind neck well back, forming a smooth kind of cape on the back of the neck. This smooth cape contrasts beauti- fully with the ruffled black and white feathers of the throat and fore breast. The red comb over each eye is enlarged, until the two nearly meet over the top of the head. This comb the bird is able to enlarge or reduce at will, and while he is strutting the expanded tail is moved from side to side. The two center feathers do not move, but each side expands and contracts al- ternately with each step as the bird walks. This move- ment of the tail produces a peculiar rustling like that of silk. This attitude gives him a very dignified and even conceited air. He tries to attract attention in every possible way by flying from the ground up ona perch, and back to the ground, making all the noise he can in doing so. Then he will thump some hard sub- stance with his bill. I have had him fly up on my shoulder and thump my collar. At this season he is very bold and will scarcely keep enough out of the way to avoid being stepped on. He will sometimes sit with his breast almost touching the earth, his feathers erect as in strutting, and making peculiar nodding and CANADA GROUSE, SPRUCE PARTRIDGE 133 circular motions of the head from side to side; he will remain in this position two or three minutes at a time. He is a most beautiful bird, and shows by his actions that he is perfectly aware of the fact. “As the spring and summer advance, the food given these Canada grouse must be changed with the. season, and it is only with a perfect knowledge of their wants, and with constant care, that they can be safely carried through the heat of the summer and the moulting sea- son. In the nesting season the females are very quar- relsome, and at this time more than two or three can- not be kept in the same pen, but in July they may be all turned together again and they will agree very well until the following March.” The winter food of the Canada grouse is chiefly leaves and buds of spruce and tamarack. In spring, when insects make their appearance, no doubt they feed largely on them and on the leaves of various plants, while at the ripening of the berries these are eaten. Little or nothing is said by writers generally about the gathering together of these birds in great flocks, yet, like many other species of our grouse, at certain seasons of the year they seem to unite in great com- panies. Major Bendire quotes Manly Hardy, of Brewer, Maine, as saying: “A Micmac Indian, whom I consider reliable, tells me of having seen a pack of many thousands, somewhere east of Halifax, Nova Scotia, on which their whole village lived for weeks, moving after them when they moved. The males greatly preponderate over the females, at least two to 134 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING one. They feed almost entirely on the needles of spruce and fir, also hackmatack and berries in summer. They show a preference for some fir trees over others, as I have seen them return to the same tree until it was nearly stripped. When disturbed they always take to the trees, walking about in them.” FRANKLIN’S GROUSE. Canachites franklini. Extremely similar to the foregoing, but with the tail black to the end, or bordered with white; its cov- erts white-tipped. The female has the tail feathers tipped with white and the upper tail coverts streaked with white, as also have the full-grown young of both sexes which have not yet assumed the plumage of the adult. It is slightly larger than the Canada grouse: length, over 15 inches; wing, 7) inches; tail, 5 inches or over. Franklin’s grouse is found in southern Alaska, cen- tral British Columbia and west central Alberta, south to western Montana, central Idaho and northern Oregon east of the coast range. At many points in northwestern Montana, northern and central Idaho it is abundant. It is the bird commonly called “fool hen” in the western mountains, though this, after all, is a general term applied to any grouse or quail that has not yet learned that man is an enemy to be dreaded. The differences in plumage between Franklin’s grouse and the Canada grouse are so slight that they are not likely to be noticed by the average gunner, though at once obvious to the ornithologist. So far 135 136 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING as is known, their habits are closely alike, though about the present species not very much has been written. Unless they should greatly change in habits, neither the Canada grouse of the East nor the Franklin’s grouse of the West is likely ever to offer much sport to the gunner. These little birds are so gentle and confiding that they hardly take the trouble to move out of the intruder’s way; they will stand on the ground TAIL OF FRANKLIN’S GROUSE or a limb to have a dozen shots fired at them, or may be pelted with stones and sticks without manifesting great alarm. I knew of one at which several rifle shots were fired, the last of which cut off one of the bird’s feet. It staggered on its perch, and then, re- gaining its balance, stood there on one foot, apparently wondering what had happened. It is often possible to capture these birds by means of a noose tied to a pole six or eight feet long, by means of which the noose can be slipped over the head. It used to be not unusual, and no doubt in many lo- FRANKLIN’S GROUSE 137 calities still is so, for a brood of these birds to fly into a tree and sit there unalarmed until the heads of half or all of their number have been cut off by the rifle balls of some passing traveler. The flesh is excellent eating, and in places where fresh meat is not easily to be had, many of these birds are killed along the trails. On the other hand, it is to be remembered that the country in which they live is sparsely inhabited by man, and that those which he kills constitute only a very small fraction of the whole number in a district. On the other hand, it is difficult to comprehend how these birds escape their natural enemies, and heavy toll of them must be taken by lynx, fox and wolf. With the destruction of the forests, which now threatens us, the numbers of both these forms of grouse must constantly diminish, but before the birds are too greatly reduced in numbers some means should be devised for their preservation. Franklin’s grouse is still more gentle and unsuspi- cious than the Canada grouse, its eastern cousin. One may frequently walk up to within fifteen or twenty feet of these birds as they sit on the ground or on the low limbs of trees without apparently being noticed by them. When they discover the approach of man they seem at first but little interested, but as one draws nearer, they are likely to stretch up their heads and look more carefully. If really alarmed or uneasy they stand very erect, holding the neck outstretched, and often raise the feathers on the sides of the neck just below the head. This habit is common to this species and to 138 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the dusky grouse, and is seen to a greater or less extent in other members of the family, as the ruffed, pinnated and sharp-tailed grouse. Franklin’s grouse is commonly found in the summer in timbered valleys, often close to the water, but some- times also on timbered plateaus much higher in the mountains. I have not observed that it seems especially to prefer swampy lands, as the Canada grouse is sup- posed to, but rather a thickly timbered country, not far from water. Even if alarmed and forced to take to wing, they do nothing more than fly up into the branches of the tree immediately above them, where they always either huddle down on a branch, as if to rest again, or, if seriously frightened, stand with head erect, stretching the neck out, first in one direction and then in another, until the cause of alarm has passed, or their suspicion has become allayed. Contrary to what might be expected, the spruce partridge, found in west central Alaska, is not Franklin’s grouse, but a form of the Canada grouse. RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE. 4 Bonasa umbellus. Bonasa umbellus togata, Bonasa umbellus umbelloides, Bonasa umbellus sabini. The ruffed grouse is peculiar to North America, and is found mainly in the Transition and Canadian life zones. Ornithologists recognize four geographical races in different sections of the continent. Of these four forms, the typical species (Bonasa umbellus) in- habits the eastern United States as far north as north- ern Massachusetts, thence westward to and beyond the Mississippi River; in southern Vermont, southern New York, through Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin and southern Minnesota, touching the eastern portions of North and South Dakota, eastern Nebraska, eastern Kansas and Missouri, northern Arkansas, Tennessee, Kentucky, and in the Alleghanies to Georgia. The ruffed grouse of northern New England, northern New York, northern Michigan and eastern Oregon, known as B. umbellus togata, the Canada ruffed grouse, is found also northward to Nova Scotia, Manitoba, cen- tral Keewatin, southern Ungava and British Columbia. The gray ruffed grouse (Bonasa umbellus umbelloides) occurs in the central Rocky Mountains, from Colorado, 139 140 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Utah and western South Dakota to Alaska, along the Yukon and Mackenzie rivers, throughout much of Brit- ish North America, east as far as Manitoba. Another darker race (Bonasa umbellus sabint) inhabits the wooded country of the northwest coast region of south- ern Alaska, to Humboldt County, California. RUFFED GROUSE All these forms are very similar in appearance, and it is not unusual to find in one locality a bird which, in color, may closely resemble those of some far distant locality. The most that can be said for these races is that they average lighter or darker—as the case may be—than certain other relations, the center of whose abundance may be far distant. RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE I4I Bonasa umbellus is above, reddish brown or grayish brown, varied with black, brown and gray in different shades, the scapulars and wing coverts streaked with whitish or cream color, the rump and upper tail cov- erts with long streaks or spots of grayish or yellowish. Tail long and wide, gray or reddish, more or less band- ed with paler, each pale band bordered by a narrow, irregular blackish edge. A broad sub-terminal band of black or dark brown near the end, followed by a nar- rower terminal band of grayish. Feathers of the tufts on the side of the neck—the ruff—usually broadest at the ends, and black in color, sometimes with green- ish reflections. Occasionally the ruff, instead of being black, is dark brown, or even pale chestnut. The throat is pale buff, sometimes dotted with darker. The lower parts are whitish or yellowish, barred with dull brown, broadest and darkest on the flanks. The lower tail coverts are white-tipped. The female is similar to the male, but smaller, and with the plumage slightly paler. At the same time the plumage often fails to give any suggestion of sex. There is a high-pointed crest on the head. The lower portion of the tarsus—that is, of the foot—is naked. This is a general description of the ruffed grouse. The typical wmbellus is described as mostly reddish above. The sub-species, B. umbellus umbelloides, is mostly gray, and has the tail always gray. It is re- garded as the Rocky Mountain form. B. umbellus togata, the Canada ruffed grouse, is 142 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING mostly grayish, and the tail is usually gray, but some- times tinged with reddish. B. umbellus sabini is dark reddish, with little or no gray. This is the northwest coast form, found in the region of great precipitation, and by many is consid- ered the most beautiful of the ruffed grouse. The descriptions of these sub-species do not always give a very clear idea of the grouse of the regions the various forms are supposed to inhabit. The center of such a region, no doubt, will be occupied by birds of the typical form. On the border lines, however, where the sub-species tend to meet, individuals may some- times be found that are typical of some taken thousands of miles away. The length of the ruffed grouse varies from 16 to 19 inches. The wing measures from 7 to 74 inches, and the tail from 5) to 7 inches. The extent of wing varies from 22 to 25 inches, and the bird commonly weighs from 21 or 22 up to about 30 ounces. Grouse are often reported to weigh 2% or 2% pounds; but it may be doubted if birds so heavy are ever found. The ruffed grouse is the best known and most highly esteemed of the game birds of the North, and in Can- ada, New England, northern New York, Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin it is now the most important of the upland birds. In the South the bird is called “pheasant,” and in the North, especially in the Northeast, “partridge’— both misnomers, since it is neither. In parts of Canada RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 143 it is called “birch partridge,” in contradistinction to the Canada grouse, called “spruce partridge.” The grouse spend the winter in thick, deep swamps, or else on steep hillsides in sections where evergreens grow, which give protection from the snow, in dense runs, and white birch and other thickets. Life is easy for the birds, which wander about over their limited range, scratching, when the snow is not too deep, for the fruit of the skunk cabbage, for the fruit and leaves of wintergreen and partridge berry and arbutus, for hibernating insects, for nuts overlooked in autumn by themselves and the squirrels; or, if the ground is deeply snow-covered and ice-bound, taking to the tree-tops, where they glean a plenteous harvest of buds, and usually come out in spring strong and well nourished. At Lake George, New York, the grouse feed extensively on the buds of ironwood, poplar, birch and apple, from late October to early April, irrespective of the snowfall. An hour or two before sunset they fly to the trees and gorge on the buds and catkins. In New England and the Middle States the mating time comes in early April, after the weather has grown warm and the grass and flowers have begun to spring. By this time the grouse has begun to sound his drum- ming call. In a country where grouse are plenty you may hear the sound from a hundred hills, but you will find it a difficult matter to trace it to its source, and when you approach the place from which you thought it came, you will find it is no longer heard there, and when it next reaches your ear it seems a long way off. 144 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING In the Rocky Mountains, in September, a few years ago, I saw a grouse cross the trail along which I was walking and disappear in the bushes to the left. The clump of bushes was a small one, not more than twenty yards across. I watched the bird while it was walking perhaps ten yards, and then went on, but had hardly come to where the bird had crossed the path when I heard it drum. The sound was not loud and gave the impression of being quite distant. I stood still for a moment, trying to see the bird, but without success, and after a little while the drumming began again, still sounding as distant as before. I then very quietly made my way into the bushes, advancing six or eight yards toward the point where I had last seen the grouse, but the drumming was not resumed, and after a few mo- ments I withdrew, but had hardly reached the trail when I again heard the sound. A second excursion into the bushes was no more successful than the first had been, but somewhat later, on my return, hearing the drumming, I-again went into the bushes, and just beyond where I had seen the grouse disappear I saw it walk away among the brush. This is mentioned only to indicate how very faint the sound of the drumming may be, although it is quite close at hand. Few subjects have been more discussed by American naturalists and sportsmen than this same drumming, a sound so familiar to outdoor men as hardly to need description. It is commonly thought to be a mating call, though by no means sounded only at the pairing season in spring; for the roll of the drumming, sound- ‘adpoy “a Oo Aq peydesz0j04g “SurjjnIys ‘asnoig peyny RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 145 ing like far-off thunder, is often heard in late summer and autumn. It is possible that this autumnal drum- ming is made by the young males, just as sometimes in autumn a young male songbird may be heard to prac- tice in low tones the lay which it will utter during the mating season of the following spring. A great variety of explanations have been given as to the method by which the drumming is produced. It is made by the wings, and the observations of ornithologists have es- tablished the fact that the sound is caused by the out- spread wings of the bird rapidly beating the air with- out striking the bird’s body or any other object. Pho- tographs taken by Professor Hodge show the wings beating in front of the breast as the bird sits upright during the act. The belief that the resonance of the sound is caused in part because, while drumming, the bird stands on a hollow log, was long ago abandoned. One of the best descriptions of the process of drum- ming is that given by Mr. Manly Hardy, of Brewer, Maine, who says: “The cock grouse usually selects a mossy log near some open hedge, clearing, or woods road, and partly screened by bushes, where he can see and not be seen. When about to drum he erects his neck feathers, spreads his tail, and with drooping wings steps with a jerky motion along a log for some distance each way from his drumming place, walking back and forth several times and looking sharply in every direc- tion. Then standing crosswise, he stretches himself to his fullest height and delivers the blows with his wings fully upon his sides, his wings being several inches clear 146 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING from the log. After drumming he settles quietly down into a sitting posture and remains silently listening for five or ten minutes, when, if no cause for alarm is dis- covered, he repeats the process.” Mr. Ernest E. Thompson, in his “Birds of Mani- toba,” describes the drumming as he saw it. It is said that if, during the drumming, another male grouse makes its appearance near the drumming place, the birds fight with much spirit. An account of such a bat- tle is given by a correspondent of Forest and Stream, who writes from Schenectady, New York, and signs himself “Dorp.” He says, in substance: “T was walking along a country road, about the first of June, when I heard from the depths of an adjacent wood an unusual rustling sound for which I could not account. The sound stopped, began again, again stopped, and was repeated at intervals of a minute or two. Not knowing what caused the sound, I crossed the fence and cautiously approached the place. After I had gone about fifty yards, screening myself as much as possible behind trees, I came up to within twenty yards of a large dead log, upon which stood two ruffed grouse in battle array. They stood something like six feet from each other, with the black feathers around their necks raised till they almost pointed toward their heads, which were lowered, and which they were shak- ing at each other in defiance. In a few moments they gradually approached each other, and when about two feet apart they rushed together, the momentum and their wings carrying them into the air about a foot RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 147 above the log. While there they struck repeated blows and then fell back to the log, where a short tussle took place, when they separated and moved back to a dis- tance of about six feet from one another. “After an interval they advanced toward each other again and repeated the same performance as before. The desperate battle went on by ‘rounds’ till several were fought. How long the fight had been going on before I came upon the scene I had no means of know- ing, but after they had come together several times in my presence, the bird that seemed the smaller moved backward, still presenting a defiant attitude, with his head lowered, till he came to the end of the log, when he jumped off and disappeared. “Upon this the victor raised himself and stretched up until he nearly stood on his toes, expanding his wings at the same time. It looked for a moment as if he would crow. Then settling himself back, he brought his wings down against his breast with a sound like that produced by forcibly striking a bass drum. Again he raised his wings and repeated the sound. Still continuing to raise and lower his wings more and more rapidly, the sound finally rolled away ‘in one continu- ous murmur and was still.’ The sound was indescrib- able. As soon as he had drummed he: jumped off the log and disappeared. Wishing to know if the female, the probable cause of the conflict, was near by, I ad- vanced rapidly and started her, together with the vic- tor, and a short distance away the defeated bird.” An interesting account of a case of drumming in 148 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the autumn, with its possible cause, is given by this same correspondent of Forest and Stream, who says: “On one occasion, while out shooting in Clifton Park, I fired at a grouse, which fell to the ground and fluttered over it for some distance, but before I could reach him rose again and, flying high, disappeared over the tops of the trees in the woods. Pursuing, I looked the ground well over, but was unable to find him. It so happened that two or three days after this occurrence I was again on the same ground, and re- membering the wounded grouse, went in search of him. I had not gone far when I heard a grouse drum, and moving cautiously I finally got behind an old moss- covered stone wall that ran through the woods. I had often heard grouse drum, but I had never seen one per- form the act, and I was very desirous to do so. After a while he drummed again, and I moved along the fence, nearer, having by this time got his bearings. Upon looking over the wall I saw the bird standing on what I supposed to be a stone about five or six inches in height. After he had drummed he pecked at the supposed stone and then bobbed his head and tail up alternately, the latter being spread out. Then he jumped off the object and walked in a wide circle around it, after the manner of the turkey cock, with wings lowered. After an interval he got on the stone again and drummed and performed as before. About this time something alarmed the drummer and he dis- appeared into the covert. “Upon going to the spot where he had drummed I First position First wingstrokes Faster The roll The drumming Ruffed Grouse. Photographed by C. F. Hodge. RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 149 was astonished to find what I supposed a stone to be a dead male grouse. Upon it the drummer had stood and drummed, and about it he had paraded as described. The dead bird had one shot only, through his head. It was the same I had shot a couple of days before, which had flown there and fallen dead. “T have read that the drumming of the ruffed grouse is a demonstration of love and courtship, but from this incident I conclude that it is also either one of rivalry and triumph, or sounding a knell or requiem of a departed mate or friend.” With this should be compared Audubon’s account of the actions of a wild turkey cock after a fight in which he has killed his rival. This same correspondent of Forest and Stream, an observant man, has expressed the view that the grouse drums to announce the approach of day at dawn, to announce any approaching unusual atmospherical change during the night or day, to make his where- abouts known to the female, to celebrate her coming, to announce a triumph over a rival, to sound a requiem over a dead mate or friend, to amuse himself. Most of these motives are precisely those which are supposed to actuate the domestic cock in his crowing, or in the flapping of his wings which commonly accompanies the crowing. It is certainly true that the grouse drums at night as well as by day, and that he frequently drums just before daylight and often just before “a change of weather.” Although so excellent an observer as Captain Ben- 150 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING dire thinks that the drumming cannot be considered a love note because, as he says, “It may be heard almost every month in the year and sometimes in the night as well as in the day time,” I am disposed to think that it is really in part a mating call. Other grouse perform certain operations usually thought to be connected with the mating time in autumn as well as in spring. The sharp-tailed grouse holds its dances in autumn, and I have been told that the dusky grouse hoots in the autumn as well as in spring, though by no means so vigorously. Certainly we may believe that at the proper season of the year it possesses an attraction for the female, and S. T. Hammond, in his capital book, “My Friend the Partridge,” gives some testimony to this effect. The nest of the ruffed grouse is built almost any- where, yet perhaps most often on a hillside more or less steep, overlooking a swamp or a piece of woods. I have found nests among thick cedars on a hillside, or perfectly open and exposed, at the foot of a cedar tree in a mowing lot close to a fence, and again between two cedars in an open piece of cedar wood, where there was no apparent cover whatever. The eggs are laid usually in April or early May, and by the middle of that month the clutch of twelve to seventeen is usually completed. The eggs are cream color or buffy, rarely spotted with brown at the larger end. If the female is startled from her nest she leaves it with a roar of wings, whose rapid beats often spread over the precious eggs the dry leaves by which the nest is likely to be surrounded. On a num- ‘esnoIg, payny jo json RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE I51 ber of occasions I have seen the eggs almost wholly hidden by this simple means. Most sportsmen know how very difficult it is to see game birds when they are not in motion. The bird’s feathers harmonize so admirably with its sur- roundings—whether these be the leaf-strewn ground of October, the bare branches of December, or the yel- lowing grass and weed stems of July—that it is often almost impossible to detect the bird, even though one knows precisely where it is. I recall an occasion when, happening to cross a fence which separated a road from a mowing lot, I almost stepped on a female grouse as I sprang to the ground. She was sitting on a nest with thirteen eggs, at the foot of a large cedar. Often after that I used to go down to the lot and slowly approach the place to look at the bird as she sat on her eggs. She soon became so accustomed to me that she mani- fested no alarm, and I could approach quite close to her. It always took me some little time to see the bird, though she sat in plain sight, with only half a dozen slender grass stems between her head and me. After looking for some time at the spot where I knew she sat, the shape of her head, her markings, and above all her bright eye, would gradually grow out of the con- fusion of the grass stems in front of her and the cedar bark beyond, and I could see the whole bird plainly. Yet if I turned my eyes away it again took a little time to find and recognize her. The eggs hatch from the first to the middle of June, and the young often number as many as a dozen or 152 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING fifteen. They leave the nest at once and nimbly follow the careful mother, as her chickens follow a domestic hen. She leads them quietly through the woods, teach- ing them the while how to live their lives and how to keep themselves safe from their enemies. At her call of alarm each chick sinks down on the ground and dis- appears, looking like a leaf, a bit of stick or a pebble. No one can recognize them as living things, and their only danger is that some clumsy person may step on one of them. Meantime the mother, with feathers erect and trailing wings, is limping in front of the intruder, falling down, pushing herself along on her breast, pant- ing as if in the very agony of death, often “growling” or “whining” in the effort to lure the enemy away from the brood. Usually she succeeds. No dog, and few boys and men, can resist the temptation to catch a partridge. The pursuer runs forward and almost grasps her, but his approach seems to give her a little strength and she flutters feebly forward. A few steps more and she will be his; but still she evades him, and presently, after having gone thirty or forty yards, she rises on strong wing and, swift as a bullet, darts off among the tree trunks. If the pursuer returns to the place where he first saw her, sits down and remains there quiet, after a time he will see her return on foot, call together her little brood and start off again on her travels. In Captain Bendire’s admirable work, so often cited, Manly Hardy, after describing the actions of the mother bird, says: RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 153 “I have once seen the old cock with the brood, and on this occasion ‘he gallantly defended the rear until the rest made good their escape. He stood with wings raised and tail spread, ready to fight the intruder. I have seen the young fly into a tree when still in the yel- low down, and when not larger than a pine grosbeak they will fly long distances, giving the alarm note of ‘quit, quit,’ just like an old bird. The young a few days old are shyer than the wariest adult. The noise made by the ruffed grouse in flying ‘is made on purpose’ to alarm others in the vicinity; they can fly as quietly as any bird if they choose. “The males never congregate during the breeding season or after, and I never but once saw two adult males within one-fourth of a mile of each other between April and September. I consider that the drumming is not a call to the females, as they drum nearly or quite as much in the fall as in the spring, and I have heard them drumming every month in the year. I have never seen the least evidence that the ruffed grouse is polygamous.” With this last statement I quite agree. I know of no evidence to justify the common assumption that this grouse is polygamous. When the young birds are two or three weeks old their wing feathers have grown enough to enable them to fly, and sometimes, if suddenly surprised, some of them may leave the ground and fly up into low branches, where they stand motionless with their necks 154 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING stretched upward and may be so closely approached that one may almost take them in the hand. By the middle of August the young are almost fully grown, and as cool weather approaches they begin to separate, no longer keeping in a close flock, but wan- dering off by twos, threes and fours. As the weather grows colder they become still more solitary in their ways, although up to midwinter two or three may often be found together. This has been my experience; but other observers, whose opinions are entitled to the greatest respect, be- lieve that the broods keep together until midwinter, unless broken up and scattered by the gunners. But if this is true, how do the birds get together after the “crazy season”? Dr. A. K. Fisher expresses the opinion that com- paratively few grouse become “crazy” birds. He is inclined to believe that the “crazy” birds are lost birds —i.e., individuals that for some cause or other have been driven from their homes, and do not know how to return. It is during late September and October that the grouse for a short time wander about in a most eccen- tric manner and indulge in such unusual performances that this is sometimes called their “crazy season.” Having separated, they seem to be searching for new homes or perhaps for winter quarters, and wander about in seemingly aimless fashion, so that they are often found in most unusual places. Such are vacant buildings, village streets, the lawn of a country place, RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 155 or even within a covered country bridge. At this time, too, they often fly against houses or fences, or through windows, opened or closed, and in this way many birds are killed. I have personal knowledge of three birds flying against houses, one against a fence and two through windows, opened or closed, on a single farm in Connecticut. A correspondent of Forest and Stream says: “Once while walking along the street I saw a grouse dusting in the roadway. At first I supposed it was a hen, but as I approached, ittrose, flew straight down the street and in at the opening of the large covered bridge that spanned the Mohawk. The bird lit on a beam near the roof. Getting up to the beam I took the bird off. He remained perfectly motionless, as is their habit when approached by man. This grouse when he rose in the roadway made comparatively little noise. . . .” The same writer says: “I recollect an incident that occurred in our city where a grouse flew into a small barn and perched on a beam. The owner of the prem- ises having invited a gentleman into the barn on some business, the guest said to the owner: ‘I see you keep poultry.’ ‘No,’ said the owner, ‘I keep no poultry, but my neighbors do, and I wish they would come and take that pullet away. She has been here now three or four days and I am tired of feeding her.’ The visitor looked a little more sharply and said: ‘That is not a pullet; that is a partridge’; and so it was, to the great surprise of the other.” The food of the ruffed grouse is very varied. In 156 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING summer—and especially for the young birds—insects, notably grasshoppers and crickets, make up a portion of its diet. It is fond of berries of all sorts, and black- berry patches and wild grape vines are often visited by it when the fruit is ripe. Indeed, from midsum- mer until early winter there are always berries for them to feed on. In autumn also they feed on fallen apples, and wild apple trees in the midst of woods are a fa- vorite resort for them morning and evening. They eat some grass and the leaves of many plants. They feed on the fruit of the skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus) ; early in the winter tearing away the pithy covering that holds the seeds and picking them out from their spongy bed, or later gathering them from the ground. Most of all they like nuts, such as chestnuts, acorns and beechnuts. I have taken from the crops of grouse two or three pignuts, a double handful of chestnuts and as many beechnuts as I could hold in one hand. There is a record of a small snake having been taken from a grouse’s crop. The Biological Survey has shown that over 10 per cent. of the food of the ruffed grouse is animal and 89 per cent. vegetable matter. The vegetable food is seeds, more than 11 per cent.; fruit, more than 28 per cent. ; leaves and buds, more than 48 per cent. Most of the insects eaten are injurious; either those that prey upon the growing crop or borers destructive to the forest. Every ruffed grouse that is killed, if he had lived out his time would have destroyed a great mul- RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 157 titude of harmful insects and so would have done good service to the farmer. Although grain has not been found in the crops of any of these grouse, there is no doubt that it is eaten when obtainable. The birds are often seen scratching in the roads, presumably for oats dropped by the horses, and I have vivid recollection of a partridge which one winter could be started two or three times a day at the head of a small pond where corn had been scattered along the edge of the water to attract the black ducks. This grouse frequented the place all through the winter to feed on the scattered corn. In autumn, winter or spring it resorts to orchards to feed on the buds of the trees, but it probably does no harm in this way. Buds and the leaves of poplar, birch, ironwood and willow form a large portion of the food of the grouse. It is said that the buds of the black birch are sometimes eaten so largely that they impart a taste to the bird’s flesh. In Alaska, E. W. Nelson found the grouse feeding on spruce buds and declared that the flesh had become bitter from this diet. There was long a belief that the flesh of the ruffed grouse was sometimes poisonous because it ate the buds of the laurel. The statement was made by Alexander Wilson, and cases are quoted by Mr. Judd to show that there is a foundation for the belief. On the other hand, grouse which had fed on laurel have been eaten without any resulting harm. It is quite possible that where injury has resulted, it came from leaving the bird undrawn for a long time after death, when the 158 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING poison from crop and intestines spread itself through the flesh. Grass, flowers and especially red clover are often found in the crop of the ruffed grouse, and many other plants in small quantities. A grouse shot at Lake George had its crop distended with the leaves of the spearmint. Few birds are more local in their habits than the ruffed grouse, and one who is familiar with their ways can usually visit the same spot in the woods at the same time of the day and be quite sure of starting a bird. A brood of birds started and scattered in all di- rections will be found a few hours later within a few hundred yards of the place from which they flew. I believe that a circle with a diameter of half a mile will cover the range of a group of ruffed grouse during the summer or during the winter. In spring and autumn, of course, there are marked changes of location, the causes of which are not well understood. We merely know that these changes take place, and that they shift their ground with the seasons, usually being found in different places in summer, autumn and winter. The bird has a certain place for resting—basking in the sun or wallowing in the dust—another for feeding and another for drinking. Very often it passes between these different places on foot, but not infrequently it flies. It is perhaps during their flights in new and un- familiar localities that they dash themselves against houses or other obstacles. Occasionally they are killed by flying against telegraph wires. When a grouse rises, it is likely to fly swiftly and RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 159 straight at a distance of not more than from three to thirty feet above the ground. As it approaches the place where it wishes to alight it sets its wings and sails straight for the place and there alights on the ground. I do not think that it ever turns up in the air as a quail does, but on the other hand I have never seen a bird actually alight. In winter I have, however, seen where they had come to the ground aiter a short flight, and the impression of the bird’s breast in the snow two.or three inches deep. The breast evi- dently came down very close to the ground, sweeping away the snow, and the grouse came to its feet at once. I have seen a bird fly from the top of a high hill to a piece of woods much lower down. It came straight until it was almost over the woods, and then, making a wide half circle, swiftly lowered and alighted among the dry leaves not more than twenty steps from me. The various methods by which the grouse avoid ob- servation are little known and are seldom observed by those who are only occasionally in the woods and who, when there, are possessed with the idea that they must kill as many birds as possible in the time at their dis- posal. The ones more likely to see such things are the men who spend much time in the woods and have the leisure to sit down and observe, watching the ways of the wild creatures, which, after a time believing that the intruder has gone away, emerge from their hiding places and resume their usual pursuits. But if the ob- 160 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING server makes a movement and the bird sees him, it will stop for a moment, look carefully, and then, turning, will seem to melt out of sight. It is most difficult to tell when it disappears. Under such circumstances a bird will sometimes fly, but more often will run for two or three yards and disappear, and then springing from the ground at a greater distance will fly off low, not being seen after it takes to wing. Rarely one may see a frightened grouse on the ground and may get up close to it, but if he does this and wishes to observe the bird, let him avoid looking directly at it. If it catches the observer’s eye, it is al- most sure to fly, and when it flies the very fact that you are so close to it may make the shot a difficult one. On one occasion many years ago, after shooting two or three times at a grouse, the dog pointed it at the foot of a great oak tree. The other dog backed, and my two brothers and myself, realizing where the bird must be, surrounded the foot of the tree. Presently we saw it crouched on the ground between two roots, looked squarely at it and talked about it. That grouse must have had an unhappy time, for it feared to fly. For some little time we looked and talked of it, and then, fearing that the pointing dog might try to seize the bird, which was almost under his nose, one of us stepped forward and grasped his collar. As this was done, the grouse took wing, twisted around the root of the tree, passing within two feet of one of my broth- ers, dodged away and up and over a little rise of Daydreaming. Photographed by C. F. Hodge. RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 161 ground twenty yards from us, escaping untouched, not- withstanding the fact that three shots were fired at it. The grouse sometimes takes refuge in the snow in cold weather, and is credited with diving into drifts at nightfall and passing the night there. A friend walk- ing through the deep snow along a little swale, through which passed a brook, saw sticking up out of the snow what he supposed was an odd-looking stick. He de- clared to himself that it looked just like a partridge’s head, and when he had come within a few feet of the place a bird rose out of the snow like a whirlwind and flew away to a near-by swamp. No doubt these birds often inspect the gunner when he is little aware of their observation. Dorp tells of a case of that kind in the following words: “T turned to resume my walk, and as I did so I cast my eyes upward, and there on a plateau covered with moss and projecting nearly over me stood a ruffed grouse looking intently down upon me. He was twelve feet from me, as I afterward measured it. He was partly turned sideways, with the neck stretched and head bent down, and made a beautiful picture with background of evergreen. “He remained motionless, as I did also, for about a half minute, when he slowly turned and was quickly lost to sight. This was the closest I remember ever to have been to this wild bird in his native state when seen. I have been closer, but then I did not know it until he flew. “This bird had heard me walking and his curiosity 162 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING had prompted him to come to the edge and look down to discover the cause of the noise. Perceiving that my back was toward him he knew that I could not see him and so remained. Perhaps he had not seen enough of me to satisfy him, and when I turned around he knew I could not reach him. He had probably never been shot at and knew nothing of the power of the gun which I held in my hand, or of man’s ability to harm at a distance.” In a country where it is much pursued by man or dog, the ruffed grouse, if unexpectedly approached closely, is likely to walk or run away rather than to fly. A good grouse dog follows the trail of the bird slowly and not much faster than the bird itself can run. Those of us who have possessed good grouse dogs, which are always scarce enough, have often seen them leave the trail, make a wide circle and come up on the other side of the bird to head it off and stop it. Unless some- thing like this is done, the bird may readily enough be followed to the edge of the cover, where it will presumably take wing and disappear. If a dog is alone—especially if it be a dog of red or yellow color, suggesting a fox—the bird is likely merely to hop up on a limb well out of reach and remain there looking down at the enemy; but if a man follows the dog, the bird, if he gets into a tree, is likely to stand close to the tree trunk and remain absolutely motionless. Ruffed grouse are subject to more or less unex- plained periods of scarcity. During one season the woods will contain their usual number of the birds, and RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 163 the following’ year very few may be found. After that it may take some years for the birds to re- cover themselves and again to become reasonably abun- dant. Whenever such a period of scarcity occurs, sportsmen very naturally endeavor to assign reasons for the reduced numbers of the birds. Among the causes suggested are these: that they have been swept away by an epidemic disease, that they have been destroyed by insect enemies, that they have been killed by hawks, owls and foxes, that the breeding season has been unfavorable, that the winter’s snow and cold have killed them, while many men believe that over-shooting furnishes the best reason of all. None of these explanations appear to fit all cases. The birds may succumb to disease, but there appears to be no evi- dence that they do so. The young chicks in traveling through the woods and swamps undoubtedly occasion- ally pick up wood ticks which suck their blood, and occasionally a young and weakly bird may perish from this cause. Those who attribute the scarcity of grouse at any time to hard winters—to their being covered up and frozen in under the snow—cannot know much about grouse nature. The bird is found far up in the north, where it is exposed to weather far more rigorous than it can ever experience in temperate climes, and if it had been so tender as to be killed by the winter, it would long ago have been exterminated in the moun- tains of Alaska, along the Mackenzie River and south- ern Ungava. It seems more probable that over-shoot- ing must have much to do with these disappearances 164 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of the grouse, not directly, perhaps, but because by constant attacks the breeding stock is kept down so low that when conditions arise even slightly unfavorable to the species, and a few birds are swept away, the breed- ing stock is so reduced that not enough birds are reared the next season to replenish the covers. The widest differences of opinion about this matter exist between sportsmen and naturalists of experience. So good a field naturalist as Nap. A. Comeau, in his recent book, entitled “Life and Sport on the North Shore,” says of the ruffed grouse: “In some years they are abundant for a time and then disappear. I have noticed that heavy sleet in winter will sometimes drive them away from certain tracts of country. Since 1905 they have been pretty scarce all over the country (the north shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence). I think this must be due to some kind of contagious disease, something similar, proba- bly, to the ‘grouse disease’ of Scotland. There is no other way of explaining their scarcity over such an immense extent of territory. Where the country has opened up, and there are only patches of wood here and there, it would be reasonable to suppose that they might have been exterminated by over-shooting and snaring; but where there are thousands of miles of forests, and not one in a hundred shot over, it cannot be put down to excessive shooting. As to natural enemies, they do not seem to have been any more numerous here than elsewhere. Last year (1908) I was over six weeks in the woods with two of my boys, and we only saw six. *ySaU WO asnolg peyny RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 165 From various points throughout the country, both in- land and along the coast, I received the same reports— no grouse.” Though constantly pursued by man during the open season and exposed to the attacks of a multitude of natural enemies, the ruffed grouse in many of our covers seems still almost to hold its own. There are seasons of abundance, when the birds are more numer- ous than usual, and others of scarcity, when sportsmen fear that they are about to disappear forever from par- ticular localities; but they continue to exist, and will long exist over much of the wooded country of the Eastern United States. The cutting off of the forests constitutes the gravest danger to which they are ex- posed. Where this is done the birds disappear, but, even after the heavy timber has been cut off, a period of ten or twelve years often results in the reforestation of the tract, at first only with underbrush and saplings, but later with larger trees. Then the ruffed grouse tend to come back again. For the ruffed grouse is a dweller in thickets. It seldom frequents the open land, except that it may venture out a little way from the edge of swamp or forest to pick up the grain in a cultivated field, or to eat the blackberries, huckleberries or wild grapes which ripen in some opening at the edge of the woods. For the most part, however, it is found in cover, sometimes quite open, among tall tree trunks of great size, or again in the most tangled swamp, among thickets of alder, blackberry, catbrier and grape vines. Wherever 166 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING found—in a country that has been much gunned—it is well able to take care of itself. By much training it has acquired a great variety of tricks and stratagems which it practices to the utter discomfiture of many gunners. It may rise far ahead of the dog and out of shot and fly straight up a mountainside out of sight, so that it is impossible to mark it down; or if for some good reason of its own it continues to lie, it will very likely let man and dog pass it, and then when the man is tangled up in difficult brush and is trying to push his way ahead, the partridge with thunderous roar will rise behind him and disappear before he can free him- self from his fetters and bring the gun to his shoulder. Very commonly the partridge runs rapidly ahead of the dog, sometimes in a straightaway course, apparently to make sure that it will be well out of gunshot before it rises, or, again, it may run straight away, and then, bending off to right or left, may come around nearly to its trail again so that its pursuers will pass it. This is the precise trick played by the moose and sometimes by deer and bear when the conditions are favorable for tracking them. A favorite device is to rise behind a tree trunk, a clump of brush, a great rock or even a stone wall, and to keep this barrier between itself and the gunner until safely out of range. The flight of the grouse is very swift, and though when well under way usually flying straight, yet often it rises on a curve, so that one may easily shoot behind it. Although often rising from the ground with a thunderous roar of wings, which may upset the nerves RUFFED GROUSE—PARTRIDGE 167 of its pursuer, the grouse does not always do this. Fre- quently it takes wing as quietly as the smallest bird, so that unless the shooter happens to be looking in the bird’s direction he may not be aware that it has flown. Sometimes, too, it will merely hop up into a tree and remain there, standing close to the trunk or to some branch, stiff, straight and motionless, and looking like a stub of wood. An old partridge may be counted on to do some unexpected thing. It deals in surprises. Its grace and beauty and the readiness with which it adapts itself to changing conditions, as well as the difficult places that it inhabits and the charm of its surround- ings, unite to command the gunner’s admiration. Although where constantly shot at it practices a variety of such stratagems, yet in regions seldom pene- trated by man and where it has not been pursued, it - is absolutely gentle and unafraid, and if startled from the ground flies no farther than to a low branch of a tree where it may sit with outstretched neck and erect crest while half a dozen shots are fired at it from pistol or rifle. If, however, a ball should strike the branch on which it is resting, or if a twig cut from above it drops down and touches the bird, it darts away with the swift flight with which we are all so familiar. If in a park or in private grounds the grouse are left un- disturbed, they may often be seen walking about and feeding, paying little attention to men who may pass near them, recognizing that no danger is to be appre- hended from them. WILLOW PTARMIGAN. Lagopus lagopus. Lagopus lagopus alleni. Lagopus lagopus alexandre. In summer the male has the head and neck chest- nut, often becoming darker below. On the neck and chest this is often barred and flecked with black, as it is also on the flanks and generally on the under parts. The belly is more or less slate color. The quills and outer wing coverts are white and the rest of the upper parts irregularly barred with tawny, brown and black. Many of the feathers are tipped with whitish. The female is less deeply colored and is spotted with a paler tawny or yellow. The length is 14 to 17 inches, wing, 7 to 7)% inches. The Newfoundland form, known as Allen’s ptarmi- gan, is slightly different, and is described as having a few of the secondaries, quills and wing coverts more or less mottled with dusky, and the shafts black. But this difference may be only seasonal. Mr. Austin Hobart Clark, who reported on the birds collected and observed during the cruise of the ‘Alba- tross in the North Pacific, found in southern Alaska a new form of willow grouse, L. J. alexandre. It is somewhat smaller than the willow grouse of the North, 168 WILLOW PTARMIGAN 169 and has a smaller, weaker bill. In full summer plum- age its upper parts are deep rich chestnut, thickly and finely waved with black, the tip of each feather narrow- ly white. The lower throat and fore neck are chestnut, the breast becoming finely cross-lined with black, which increases toward the belly. The sides and flanks are very dark. The range of the willow ptarmigan, often called the willow grouse, is chiefly confined to the Arctic regions in North America, reaching from Alaska, over much of the British Provinces, to the Atlantic, and rarely straggling south into the United States—Minnesota, New York and New England. Twenty-five or thirty years ago it was not uncommon to find specimens of this bird in the hands of taxidermists in New York, the birds having presumably been shipped to that city from southern Canada. In many parts of the North the birds are exceeding- ly abundant and form no inconsiderable portion of the winter food supply of the Indians, while many are killed about the Hudson’s Bay posts. Much of what we know about these birds comes from E. W. Nel- son, who made his observations on the shores of the Bering Sea, and from L. M. Turner, who studied them in Labrador, with his headquarters at Ungava. From these observations we can get a good idea of the life of the willow ptarmigan. In winter these birds seem to be to some extent migratory, and, moving southward—partly, no doubt, in search of food—are found in considerable numbers as 170 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING far south as latitude 50°; yet great numbers remain in the wooded districts of the North as far as latitude 67". Mr. E. W. Nelson, whose studies of the fauna of the Northwest and whose ethnological work among the Eskimos of Alaska are so well known, says that in the northern portions of their respective ranges these grouse are summer residents—frequenting the ex- tensive open country and being most abundant along the barren seacoast region of the Bering Sea and Arctic coast, “but in autumn, the last of August and during September, they unite in great flocks and mi- grate south to the sheltered banks of the Kuskoquim and Yukon rivers and their numerous tributaries. In early spring, as the warmth of the returning sun begins to be felt, they troop back to their breeding grounds once more. “During a large portion of the year these birds form one of the most characteristic accompaniments of the scenery in the northern portion of Alaska. During the winter season these birds extend their range south to Sitka and Kadiak.... “Toward the end of March, as some bare spots commence to show on the tundra, the Eskimos say this will bring the ptarmigan from the shelter of the in- terior valleys, and their observation proves true. At St. Michael these birds commence their love-making according to the character of the season—on some years by the first of April their loud notes of challenge are heard, but the recurrence of cold weather usually WILLOW PTARMIGAN I7I puts a temporary stop to their proceedings. About the fifth or fifteenth of this month the first dark feath- ers commence to appear about the heads and necks of the males. During some seasons the males make scarcely any progress in changing their plumage up to the middle of May, when I have frequently seen them with only a trace of dark about the head and neck. In the spring of 1878 the first males were heard calling on the 26th of April, and on April 27th, in 1879, the males were just commencing to moult, show- ing a few dark feathers, but these seasons were un- usually late. In autumn the change frequently com- mences the last of September and by the first of October it is well under way, the winter moult being completed toward the end of this month. ... “At the Yukon mouth, on the evening of May 24th, these ptarmigan were heard uttering their hoarse notes all about. As we were sitting by the tent my in- terpreter took my rifle and, going off a short distance, worked a lump of snow to about the size of one of these birds. Fixing a bunch of dark-brown moss on one end of the snow to represent the bird’s head, he set his decoy upon a bare mossy knoll; then retiring a short distance behind the knoll he began imitating the call of the male until a bird came whirring along and taking up the gauntlet lit close by this supposed rival and fell a victim to the ruse. - At this time the males were continually pursuing each other or holding possession of prominent knolls, frequently rising thence five to ten yards in 172 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the air, with quick wing strokes and descending with stiffened wings, with the tips curved downward. While ascending they uttered a series of notes which may be repeated by the syllables ku-ku-ku-ku, which is changed as the bird descends to a hard rolling kr-r-r-r-r, in a very deep, guttural tone, ending as the bird reaches the ground. Frequently a pair would fly at each other full tilt and a few feathers would be knocked out, the weaker bird quickly taking flight again, while the victor rises as just described and utters his loud note of defiance and victory. On an- other occasion when the birds are more evenly matched they fight fiercely until the ground is strewn with feathers. “On May 24th almost all these birds are paired, but some did not complete their nuptials until the first few days in June. This grouse takes but a single mate in northern Alaska, and I am informed by the natives of Unalaska that the same is the case with the rock grouse found on the Aleutian Islands, nor have I ever known of the ptarmigan assembling in numbers about any special meeting place to carry on their love affairs; they scatter about, as previously mentioned, being seen singly here and there on prominent knolls over the flat country. Early in June, rarely so early as the last of May, the first eggs are laid; by June 20th and 25th the downy young are usually out, and when ap- proached the female crouches close to the ground among her brood. When she sees it is impossible to escape notice she rolls and tumbles away as though WILLOW PTARMIGAN 173 mortally injured, and thus tries to lead one from her chicks. The young at the same time try to escape by running away in different directions through the grass. At this season the female and male both moult and assume a plumage which differs considerably The young are fledged and on the wing at varying dates through July and are nearly full grown by the first to the tenth of August.” Mr. R. MacFarlane, long chief factor to the Hud- son’s Bay Company, but now retired and resident in Winnipeg, whose observations on the fauna of many parts of the Far North are so valuable, gives some interesting notes about the willow ptarmigan in one of the regions which he has made famous. He says: “This species is exceedingly abundant in the neigh- borhood of Fort Anderson, on the lower Anderson River, and in the wooded country to the eastward. It is not, however, common in the Barren Grounds, especially from Horton River to Franklin Bay, where it is replaced by L. rupestris. The nest is invariably on the ground, and consists of a few withered leaves placed in a shallow cavity or depression. The female sometimes leaves it only when almost trodden under foot, in fact, several were swooped upon and caught thereon by hand. They usually begin to lay about the end of May or the beginning of June. The process of moulting, or the gradual assumption of their sum- mer plumage, commences a week or two earlier. The female lays from seven to ten, twelve, and, occasional- ly, as many as thirteen eggs, which I find was the 174. AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING greatest number recorded; and we had reason to know that some, at least, of the nests were used by ptarmigan several seasons in succession. When very closely ap- proached as stated, the female would frequently flut- ter off, sometimes spreading her wings and ruffling her feathers, as if to attack or frighten away intrud- ers, and at other times calling out in distressed tones, and acting as if she had been severely wounded. “In one instance, where an Indian collector had found a nest which contained seven eggs, he placed a snare thereon; but on returning to the spot a few hours afterward, he was surprised to find that six of the eggs had disappeared in the interim, and as no egg- shells were left behind they were in all probability re- moved by the parents to a safer place. The male bird is generally not far away from the nest, and his pe- culiar hoarse and prolonged note is frequently heard, the more especially between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 A.M. Both, however, displayed great courage and devotion in protecting from capture their young, which we often encountered on our return coast trips. “About the end of September, during October, and early in November L. lagopus assembles in great flocks, but during the winter it was seldom that more than two or three dozen were ever noticed in single companies. They are, however, most winters very numerous in the neighborhood of Fort Good Hope and other Hudson’s Bay Company posts in the Mackenzie River district; but as spring sets in, they begin to mi- grate northward, and it is very doubtful if many breed WILLOW PTARMIGAN 175 to the south of latitude 68°, at least in the valley of the Anderson.” The change of summer plumage to that of winter begins on the abdomen and gradually extends over the entire body, the head changing last. This change occurs between September 1oth and the last of October, the young assuming their winter garb a little in ad- vance of the adults. In spring the change is reversed, commencing about the head of the birds and thence passing over the rest of the body. After the head has assumed its summer plumage, the change on the rest of the body goes on very slowly, and in many instances is never perfected, the back and abdomen of the ma- jority of summer specimens being never entirely free from white feathers. The wings remain white through- out the year. There is considerable individual varia- tion in the plumage of adult specimens shot at the same season. Mr. Charles Sheldon, who spent the winter of 1908 and 1909 on the shoulders of Mt. McKinley, saw there the willow ptarmigan, the rock ptarmigan and the white-tailed ptarmigan. These birds were all abun- dant, and there was no difficulty at any time in starting out and in the course of a short walk killing with a .22 rifle a sufficient number to last for food during several days. In spring, at the mating season, the willow ptarmi- gan was extremely noisy, and at that time was seen much in the trees, often sitting on the topmost spray, from which he uttered his crowing call, and often 176 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING made short flights. Long before the snow disappeared the birds had commenced to assume the dark plumage of summer, the head and neck changing first. The birds were now very noticeable against the snow. The males fought with much energy. After the young had been brought off the males disappeared. When startled in winter the birds often fly a short distance, and then, alighting on the snow, remain crouched there, perfectly motionless, so that they are extremely hard to see. As I have often noticed with the white-tailed ptarmi- gan, the willow ptarmigan, when the wind is blowing fiercely and the snow driving, will often alight on a drift and quickly scratching a hole will crouch in it, thus protected from the wind and the drifting snow, which, however, may sometimes quite cover them over. In the summer of 1899, while the Harriman Alaska expedition was in Yakutat Bay, some of the members who were strolling up a ravine back of the sealing vil- lage of the Indians, came upon a female ptarmigan with half a dozen young. The young ones did not at once hide, and one of them was caught in the hand. The mother was anxious and uneasy for her little ones and walked about within three or four feet of us, and when the young one was caught she flew close about the captor. When walking on the ground she clucked like a setting hen, but with a deeper note; and after her young had been released she called to them, warn- ing them to remain hidden, with the same note that a domestic hen uses to warn her chickens that she sees ‘eYSe[y Ul UeSTULIe]d MOTTA WILLOW PTARMIGAN 177 a hawk in the sky. When at last we walked away, leaving the family alone, she also walked off into the alder bushes. The wings and a few breast feathers of this mother bird were white, but the rest of her plumage was black and tawny, much like that of a female spruce grouse. Of this species at Ungava, in Labrador, Mr. L. M. Turner says: “In the spring these birds repair, as the snow melts, to the lower grounds and prepare for the nuptial sea- son. About the 1oth of April they may be heard croaking or barking on all sides. A male selects a favorable tract of territory for the location of the nest, and endeavors to induce a female to resort to that place. He usually selects the highest portion of the tract, whence he launches into the air, uttering a bark- ing sound of nearly a dozen separate notes, thence sails or flutters in a circle to alight at the place whence he started, or to alight on another high place, from which he repeats the act while flying to his former place. Immediately on alighting he utters a sound similar to the Indian word, chu-xrwan (what is it?), and repeats it several times, and in the course of a few minutes again launches in the air. Early in the morning hundreds of these birds may be heard, continuing until nearly eleven o’clock, when the bird then becomes silent until after three o’clock, when he again goes through the same performance, though with less vigor than in the morning. In the course of a few days a female may be found in the vicinity. The 178 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING actions of the male are now redoubled, and woe be to any bird of his kind which attempts to even cross his chosen locality. Battles ensue which for fierceness are seldom equaled by birds of larger size. “In the vicinity of Fort Chimo the nesting of this species begins during the latter part of May. The nest is usually placed in a dry spot among the swamps, or on the hillsides where straggling bushes grow. The nest is merely a depression in the mosses and contains a few blades and stalks of grass, together with a few feathers from the parent bird, which is now in the height of the moulting from the winter to the summer plumage. “The first eggs obtained were two on June 1, 1884, this being the earliest record at Fort Chimo. The number laid for a set varies greatly in different locali- ties. At Fort Chimo seven to nine is the usual num- ber, although in exceptional instances as many as eleven and rarely thirteen may be found. “While I was at St. Michael (Norton Sound, Alaska) I frequently found nests containing as many as fifteen, and several times found seventeen. I was there informed that over twenty eggs had been taken from a single nest. On neither side of the continent did I hear that more than one female deposited eggs in the same nest. I can affirm that a clutch of seven eggs may be taken, and if the nest be not disturbed, the female will deposit nearly the same number again. These may again be taken, and not over three eggs will be deposited, and if disturbed a third time she will WILLOW PTARMIGAN 179 lay no more unless she selects a new location, which, of course, would be difficult to ascertain. “T cannot speak accurately on the subject, but think that seventeen days are required to incubate the eggs. On the 20th of June I obtained a young bird of this species, which was less than forty-eight hours out of the shell. This was the earliest record. Thousands of these young must perish annually, either from the cold rains or from their parents being killed for food. . . . After the middle of August the birds have ac- quired a good size and are then feeding on berries of various kinds. They are then quite tender, of nearly white flesh, and when properly prepared form a pleas- ant food for the table. The young birds of the year attain their full growth by the first of November.” It thus seems that this ptarmigan is monogamous, a pair mating and remaining together through the breed- ing season, the male taking part in the care of the young, showing a strong attachment for them and being devoted to the female. The food of this species consists chiefly of the buds and leaves of various willows and birches, as well as berries of different sorts, which during the summer are exceedingly abundant in that country. The eggs, like those of other ptarmigan, are cream-colored as to groundwork and are marked with blotches, spots and cloudings of reddish and dark brown, often entirely covering the ground color. Captain Bendire tells us that all these markings are readily removable from the freshly laid egg. 180 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING The form of willow ptarmigan, known as Allen’s ptarmigan, was described from Newfoundland by Dr. Stejneger nearly twenty-five years ago. The differ- ences between it and the bird of the mainland are trifling, being chiefly confined to the color of the shafts of primaries and secondaries, which are black. This is still a common bird of Newfoundland, where it is often called “partridge” by the settlers, and where, in more remote districts, it still offers very good shooting, though nowhere nearly so abundant as formerly. It lives on the barrens, feeding on seeds and berries, and in winter on the buds of alders, willows and birches. It breeds on the ground among the spruces. Perhaps no writer has lived longer in the region in- habited by the willow grouse than Napoleon A. Comeau, who, in his recent work, “Life and Sport on the North Shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence,” gives some interesting notes on the species. He says: “Of all the above species [of grouse], the willow ptarmigan is by far the most abundant, and of con- siderable value as an article of food during its years of passage. It is an irregular migrant, in this wise, that it does not come regularly every season, like most other birds, and sometimes we may be three or four years without seeing any. I have gathered consider- able data on this subject, and I find that about every tenth year is one of great abundance. Here are some of the dates: 1863 and 1864, extremely abundant; 1867, disappeared this year; 1871, a few were seen this year, but none between 1867 and 1871; 1872 and 1873, WILLOW PTARMIGAN 181 very numerous again and total disappearance in 1876; 1882, a few observed; 1883, 1884 and 1885, great abundance; 1887, disappeared entirely; 1891, a few seen, gradually increasing each year till 1895, when there were considerable quantities; 1897, none; 1903 and 1904, abundant, and a few seen every winter since to date, 1909. “At one time it was supposed that these years of abundance on the coast were due to heavy sleet in the interior, covering up all the buds and preventing the birds from feeding, and thus forcing them to seek food elsewhere. I have noticed that this will affect them to some slight extent, but the dates given show too much regularity for this to be the true cause. My be- lief is that it is due to the food supply. Having ex- amined thousands of the crops of these birds I found that over ninety per cent. contained the buds of a species of willow, popularly known here as pussy wil- low, Salix arctica? The balance were buds of the birch, poplar and the mountain ash and its berry. I also noticed a few seeds that I could not identify. “After a year or two of great abundance, all the willows are destroyed by the breaking of the tips and the buds, and the shrub takes about two years to re- cover, which is generally by fresh sprouts from the roots. As the food fails the birds have to move else- where. It would, therefore, appear from my data that it takes about ten years to go around their circle of migration. I say circle because their line of flight seems to indicate this. They first appear on the 182 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Labrador coast line flying south, and continue so till they reach our large rivers, like the Manicouagan, Bersimis and the Saguenay, seldom going west of this last. These large rivers are followed up in a west and northwesterly direction, the birds scattering inland over a tract that includes the Lake St. John and Lake Mistassini region, then down to the shores of Hudson’s Bay, where Dr. Milne and Mr. Peter McKenzie told me they flew north all along the coast line to Ungava, then south again to the Labrador, and so on. The range of the flight on this side of Hudson’s Bay would cover about ten degrees of latitude and in round fig- ures form a circle around this big peninsula of about two thousand miles. As this immense body of ptarmi- gan moves on during a season of abundance, stragglers are left behind, which breed, giving another and lesser batch to migrate the second year, when fewer strag- glers are left, till the third or fourth season, when no more are seen for a time. Their total absence varies from four to six years. They seldom or never breed in the lowlands, always seeming to prefer high and bare mountainous sections. In June, 1893, I saw a pair several times. They probably had their nest with- in a mile of our house (Godbout). The earliest ap- pearance of any large migration was October 29, 1872, but as a rule it begins here from the 15th of November to December. “The regular flight along the seashore lasts about four to six weeks. After that the birds seem to scatter inland and feed. When on the move they fly very WILLOW PTARMIGAN 183 early in the morning, sometimes so early that it is im- possible to distinguish them unless there happens to be some dark background. The morning flight, when abundant, will last an hour or two. The size of the flock varies, in ordinary seasons, from ten to fifteen or twenty. In years of great abundance, flocks of a hun- dred or more are common. On the 14th of December, 1885, I saw at Trinity Bay, six miles east of Pointe des Monts, one flock which contained many thousands. It was a continuous mass of birds over half a mile long and from sixty to a hundred yards wide. I have never seen anything approaching this before, nor have I since. When in large flocks they are, as a rule, shy, especially if the weather is very cold or windy, and will rise long before one gets within ordinary range. On the wing, however, they do not seem to mind any- thing in their way, flying over and around one with- out apparently noticing him. They are very strong on the wing, not any faster than the ruffed grouse, but capable of sustaining much longer flights, occasionally going five or six miles without resting. “In small bunches and in snowy and mild weather they are quite tame, and when feeding in the thick willow bottoms it is hard work to get them to rise out of them. After feeding they congregate around some clump of willow, and scratching a small hollow in the snow, will lie perfectly still for hours, the top of the head just level with the snow, the black eye and beak alone betraying their presence. The popular idea of their diving in the snow to escape pursuit is most 184 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ridiculous. At night they will occasionally burrow in the snow, but only during high winds or very cold weather, the usual way of resting being the small hollow mentioned. Another rather remarkable thing in connection with ptarmigan is the apparent dispro- portion of the sexes. Out of the many thousands that I have killed and examined, only about twenty-five per cent. were males. In winter they prefer low valleys and the borders of rivers and lakes and dense willow patches, but as the season advances they seek the higher ranges, choosing those that face the midday sun. When flying over water, as they often do in crossing bays or large rivers, they keep very near the surface, just about a foot or so above it. Over land the reverse is the case, for sometimes they rise high over the tops of the tallest trees. The most remarkable thing about them, however, is their seasonal change of plumage. In 1885 I had the pleasure of attending the meetings of the American Ornithologists’ Union, in New York. At one of the meetings a very interesting paper was read by Dr. Stejneger on this subject. The doctor exhibited two specimens which came from New- foundland, and which, in his opinion, were a sub- species confined to the island. This distinction was based particularly on the coloration of the primaries. The birds shown had nearly all the tips of the pri- maries black. Since my return I have taken special pains to examine a great number of birds. On those killed prior to 15th November I found the same coloration, more or less, as on the species shown, but WILLOW PTARMIGAN 185 after that date there was a gradual whitening of the primaries, and in many cases only the shafts were white. “During the last two migrations, taking the best years, 1895 and 1904, I took some trouble to try and find out approximately how many birds were killed between certain points. During the first year men- tioned, between Mingan and Godbout, 175 miles of coast, 30,000 were killed. In the second (1904), 14,000, but I am sure that during 1885 nearly 60,000 must have been shot or snared. When a flight begins, every man, woman and boy able to handle a gun is out. To avoid accidents, which are very rare indeed, each gun occupies a certain point or station, and shoots at all the birds that pass or light in his vicinity. The ladies keep watch of those that may light near the houses. The bags vary, of course, according to the skill of the shooter and his method of shooting. If he is there for business he will take all the pot shots. He can frequently get five or six in one shot. I have seen fourteen killed in a single shot. A few will only shoot on the wing, but there are many days when the wing shooter comes out ahead. The biggest bag I ever made (it was in 1885), shooting at flying birds, was eighty-two brace in one morning. At Caribou Islands, that winter, nets were tried, but they were not very successful, more being got by shooting. Indians fre- quently snare them by setting their snares around wil- low clumps, where the birds feed. It is a very simple arrangement. A twig is stuck in the snow, a twine 186. AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING snare is tied to it, a very light support placed under it to hold it in position, and it is ready. In walking around, the bird runs into it, then tries to rise on feel- ing the snare, only to tighten the noose. There is a little fluttering, and it is all over.” ROCK PTARMIGAN. Lagopus rupestris. Lagopus rupestris reinhardi, Lagopus rupestris welchi. Lagopus rupestris nelsoni. Lagopus rupestris atkensis. Lagopus rupestris townsendi. Lagopus rupestris evermanni. Lagopus rupestris chamberlaini. Lagopus rupestris kelloge. Lagopus rupestris dixoni. The bill of the rock ptarmigan is much more slender than that of the willow ptarmigan, and the bird is somewhat smaller, measuring from 13 to 1434 inches. In winter the bird is white, with black tail; but a line running from the eye to the bill is also black. It is said that the female does not always have this black spot covering the lores. In summer the male is grayish brown, the feathers being crossed with fine black lines, which tend to form irregular zigzag bars. The shoulder feathers, or scapu- lars, are chiefly black, which gives the effect of large black spots on the back. The quills of the wing —primaries and secondaries—and the outer tertiaries 187 188 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING are white. The lores and top of the head are black, the ends of the feathers on the latter being tipped with brown. Breast regularly barred with blackish and light brown, and the sides the same, but with finer black bars; beneath, white. The summer plumage of the female is brighter, yel- lowish or reddish, spotted and barred with black, and having the quills and secondaries always white. The ‘lower plumage is somewhat paler and grayer; the dot- tings and barrings are black, often quite fine; yet the barrings show a tendency to form spots and heavier bars. The head and neck are more yellowish and barred with dusky. The rock ptarmigan, in its various forms, is scat- tered over Arctic America in general, except the ex- treme north, including Greenland and the Aleutian Islands, and is found southeast as far as the Gulf of St. Lawrence, occurring on Anticosti Island. Mr. Nelson reports it a common resident of the mainland of Alaska, where it inhabits the higher ground during the summer, but is driven down by winter to the lower levels. Its habits do not appear to differ greatly from those of the common willow ptarmigan. It breeds in large numbers on the Barren Grounds, from which Mr. MacFarlane reported on its breeding habits, nests and eggs. It does not appear to be so prolific a bird as the willow ptarmigan, its eggs being fewer in number and apparently running from nine down to four or five. The female sits closely on her eggs, and her color harmonizes so well with that ROCK PTARMIGAN 189 of the surrounding vegetation that usually when dis- covered she is seen only by accident. In Alaska the eggs are laid in May and in the Bar- ren Grounds somewhat later, usually between the mid- dle of June and July. The eggs are quite like those of the willow ptarmigan, but are slightly smaller. The ground color runs from cream color to yellowish, and the spots and blotches vary from a dark brown to a claret red. Sometimes these spots are so numerous as almost to hide the ground color. Reinhardt’s ptarmigan, a sub-species of the rock grouse, is found in Greenland and throughout Labra- dor, and Mr. L. M. Turner, whose notes on the birds of Labrador and Ungava are so familiar to ornitholo- gists, tells us about all that is known of it. He says that it prefers open ground, and rarely enters even the skirts of the wooded tracts. “The mating season begins in May, and during this period the male acts in the strangest manner to secure the affection of its mate. He does not launch high in the air and croak like the willow ptarmigan, but runs around his prospective bride with tail spread, wings dragging like those of the common turkey, or else with head and neck stretched out and breast in contact with the ground, pushing himself in this man- ner by the feet, which are extended behind. The male at this time ruffles every feather of his body, twists his neck in various positions, and the supra-orbital pro- cesses are swollen and erect. He utters a most peculiar sound, something like a growling kurr-kurr, and as 190 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the passion of the display increases, the bird performs the most astonishing antics, such as leaping in the air without effort of wings, rolling over and over, acting withal as if beside himself with ardor. The males engage in most desperate battles; the engagement lasts for hours, or until one is utterly exhausted, the feath- ers of head, neck and breast strewing the ground. A maneuver is for the pursuing bird to lead the other off a great distance and suddenly fly back to the female, who sits or feeds as unconcerned as it is possible for a bird to do. She acts thoroughly the most heartless coquette, while he is a most passionately devoted lover. He will die rather than forsake her side, and often places himself between the hunter and her, uttering notes of warning for her to escape, while attention is drawn to him, who is the more conspicuous. “When the young are with the parents they rely upon their color to hide themselves among the nearly similar vegetation from which they procure their food. I am certain I have walked directly over young birds which were well able to fly. If the parent birds are first shot, the entire number of young may be secured, as they will not fly until nearly trodden upon, and then only for a few yards, while they may easily be seen. I have found on two occasions an adult female with a brood of thirteen young. All of the flocks were se- cured without trouble. At other times only three or four young would be found with both parents. The young are very tender when first hatched; no amount of most careful attention will induce them to eat, and ROCK PTARMIGAN IgI after only a few hours’ captivity they die. I never could keep them alive above twelve hours. The change- able weather, sudden squalls of snow or rain, must be the death of scores of these delicate creatures. Their note is a soft piping pe-pe-pe, uttered several times, and has the same sound as that of the young of the bobwhite (Colinus virginianus).” For the first few weeks of their life the young of this species cannot be distinguished from those of the willow ptarmigan, but when a month old they may be readily told apart by the bill. The food of this species consists of insects, berries, leaves and buds of the birch and willow. Mr. Kumlien, at Cumberland Sound, shot one whose crop was full of moss. Welch’s ptarmigan, described by Mr. Brewster from Newfoundland, is reported as a highland form of the rock ptarmigan, and confined to the sides and sum- mits of rock hills and mountains in the interior of Newfoundland. The rock ptarmigan is a very local bird, and for the most part spends its life on or near the hills where it was reared. It has been spoken of as a truly alpine species, rarely found below the line of stunted black spruces, except in the depth of winter, when they descend to the lowlands and sometimes min- gle with the willow grouse. The settlers call it moun- tain partridge to distinguish it from the willow grouse, known as partridge. Nelson’s ptarmigan is another form of the rock grouse, which is confined to the islands of Unalaska, 192 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Akutan and Unimak of the Aleutian group. It spends most of the time on higher ground, but at the breed- ing season comes down to the narrow valleys to rear its young. The nest is usually placed in tall grass in some valley or on the open tundra. Turner’s ptarmigan, another subspecies, is found at Atka, one of the islands of the Aleutian chain. It occurs also on Amchitka Island. The bird is larger than the mainland form, and is quite numerous on these islands. Mr. Turner reports the eggs as from eleven to seventeen in number. The habits of the subspecies are not known to differ from those of the other forms of this ptarmigan. Townsend’s ptarmigan from Kiska Island, Ever- mann’s ptarmigan from Attu Island, Chamberlain’s ptarmigan from Adak Island, Dixon’s ptarmigan from the Sitkan Islands, and Kellog’s ptarmigan from Mon- tague Island, complete the list of closely related forms from the Alaskan Islands, where this species seems to have been very easily influenced by local conditions. WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN. Lagopus leucurus. Lagopus leucurus peninsularis. Winter plumage snow-white throughout; the bill and eyes being the only dark spots to be seen. The summer plumage is buff, or, later in the season, clay color, coarsely barred with black on a pale ground. There is little difference between the male and the female. The tail is always white. In the young the tail feathers at first are not white, but are mottled with brownish. They become white with moulting, however. The sub-species, peninsularis, inhabits the alpine mountains of central Alaska, northern Yukon, N. W. Mackenzie, south to Cook Inlet, Kenai Peninsula and southern Yukon. In all America, the especial home of the grouse, there is no prettier member of this family than the white-tailed ptarmigan. Like all its kind, it loves the cold and snow, but, unlike the other American mem- bers of the group, it substitutes altitude for latitude and is an inhabitant of the lofty mountains of the West, from central Alaska and northern Yukon south to Washington and New Mexico. Here on the very edge of perpetual snowfields, not far from some brawl- 193 194 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ing ice-fed torrent, and within the sound of the roar of avalanche and the thunder of glacier, the little ptarmi- gan spends his life, seldom disturbed by enemies. In summer he wears a livery of black and clay color, which harmonizes so well with the rocks among which WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN his life is passed that it is most difficult to see him, if he wishes to remain unseen and does not move; while in winter, as he journeys over the frozen wastes, his plumage is as white as the snows on which he walks. His must be a contented, care-free life, for he has few enemies to fear. The sneaking coyote and the stealthy wild cat seldom visit his mountain soli- WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN 195 tudes. Rarely the eagle’s broad pinions cast their dark shadow over snowfield and rock slope, but the eagle is generally in search of larger game, the tender young of the big horn or of the white goat. The great bears that in early summer prowl over the range, looking for the young grass or digging out mice, or later pick- ing the luscious huckleberries, do not give a thought to the ptarmigan, unless by chance they stumble on her nest, when it suffers the fate of every thing eatable that comes in Bruin’s way. ‘Of all the animals of the mountains, the one that the ptarmigan has most to fear is perhaps the pine marten. He is always traveling about, alow and aloft; equally at home among the trees of the forest and the rocks of the peaks, always hungry, always searching for food; and, while it may be doubted whether he destroys many full-grown ptarmigan, we may feel sure that he compasses the death of many young and pil- lages many a nest. Although the white-tailed ptarmigan is abundant enough in the high mountains which it inhabits, it is scarcely known at all to sportsmen. Only the hardy spirit who climbs above timber line in search of sheep or goats, or that other enthusiast whose highest pleas- ure it is to reach the summit of the loftiest mountain peaks, ever reaches the home of this bird; and as neither of these ever burdens himself with a shotgun, it is almost never killed for sport. In Colorado, where many prospectors and miners carry on their operations far above timber line, the ptarmigan is often killed for 196 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING food, but in other parts of the West man interferes but little with the abundance of this species. This ptarmigan is found in considerable numbers above timber line on most of the mountains of western America. It does not occur in the Sierra: Nevada, nor in the Cascades south of Washington. It is no- where very abundant, though I have seen them, in autumn, in flocks of twenty-five or thirty, and recall an afternoon when, on Mount Jackson, in Montana, two of the party secured twenty-two of the birds. Yet, as a rule, they are nowhere very common, a single brood often seeming to occupy its own range of ter- ritory, which is not encroached on by others. I have not seen them in large Hodes as mentioned below by Mr. Trippe. The nest of the white-tailed ptarmigan is built high up on the mountain-side above timber line, and may be located anywhere among the loose stones and rocks. A little depression is perhaps scratched out near a patch of grass or weeds, and here the mother bird deposits her eight or nine eggs, buff in ground color, sometimes spotted with many small reddish or brown dots, or, again, peculiarly blotched with larger mark- ings of the same color. The nest is usually quite in the open, but the grayish mother bird so closely resem- bles the stones.among which she nests as readily to escape observation. Moreover, the confiding nature of the bird gives her such courage that she will remain on the nest, unscared even by the close approach of some great danger. WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN 197 Mr. A. W. Anthony wrote to Captain Bendire: “Twice have I escaped stepping upon a sitting ptarmi- gan by only an inch or so, and oace I reined in my’ horse at a time when another step would have crushed out the life of a brood of nine chicks, but an hour or so from the egg. In this case the parent crouched at the horse’s feet and, though in momentary danger of being stepped on, made no attempt to escape until I had dismounted and put out my hand to catch her. She then fluttered to the top of a rock a few feet dis- tant and watched me as I handled the young, constant- ly uttering low, anxious protests. The chicks were still too young to escape; mere little wet bunches of down, that stumbled and fell over one another when they attempted to run. “Miners in whom I have confidence told me that they have lifted sitting ptarmigan from the nest and han- dled the eggs, while the bird stood but a few feet dis- tant, watching her treasures and uttering an occasional squeak like a sitting hen. One which had her nest near the trail between the cabin and the mine was an- noyed in this way so often that she would attempt to regain the nest while the eggs were being handled, and had to be frequently pushed aside. She never failed to peck at the hand and utter her protesting ki-r-r-r-r whenever one attempted to touch her, and made no attempt to fly away.” All the evidence given by people who have found the nests of this bird indicates that the sitting female 198 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING is no wilder than the average domestic hen in the same situation. The following very interesting account of this bird appears in Dr. Coues’ “Birds of the Northwest,” for which it was prepared by Mr. Trippe; it relates en- tirely to the species in Colorado: “The white-tailed ptarmigan is a very. abundant bird on the main range, living entirely above timber line the year round, ex- cept during the severest part of the winter, when it descends into the timber for shelter and food, occasion- ally straggling as low as 10,000 feet. It begins to change color about the middle of March, when a few specks of blackish brown begin to appear in the plum- age of the oldest males, but the change is very slow, and it is late in April before there is much black visible, and the close of May or early in June before the sum- mer plumage is perfect. The ptarmigan builds its nest in the latter part of June and commences hatch- ing toward the close of the month, or early in July. The nest—which is almost always placed on or near the summit of the ridge, or spur, many hundred feet above timber line—is merely a depression in the ground, lined with a few straws and white feathers from the mother’s breast. The eggs are eight in number, of a light buff brown, thickly sprinkled with spots of dark chocolate brown, somewhat thicker at the larger end. While on her nest the bird is very tame. Once, while walking near the summit of the range, I chanced to look down and saw a ptarmigan in the grass at my very feet; at the next step I should have trodden upon her. WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN 199 Seeing that she did not appear frightened, I sat down gently, stroked her on the back, and, finally, putting both hands beneath her, raised her gently off the nest and set her down on the grass, while she scolded and pecked my hands, like a setting hen, and, on being released, merely flew off a few yards and settled on a rock, from which she watched me till I had gone away. Late in July I came across a brood of young ones, apparently not more than four or five days old. They were striped with broad bands of white and blackish brown, and looked precisely like little game chickens. The mother flew in my face and hit me with her wings, using all the little artifices that the quail and partridge know so well how to employ, to draw me away; while her brood, seven or eight in number, nimbly ran and hid themselves in the dense grass and among the stones. On another excursion above timber line, toward the close of August, I found most of the young ones nearly grown, and strong on the wing; but one brood was of the size of quails, showing that some birds must begin breeding much later than others, or that they occasionally raise two broods. These little ones were colored much like the older birds, hav- ing blackish-brown bodies and pure white tails. About the first of September the ptarmigan begins to change color again, but, as in the spring, the process is very gradual, white feathers appearing one by one and taking the place of the dark ones. The white on the lower parts enlarges first, then the white areas on the wings, and next, white specks appear on the upper 200 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING parts, becoming larger and more numerous as the sea- son wears on; but so gradual is the change that a month after it begins there is not much difference in the plumage perceptible, the general aspect being that of summer. There is much more of the light rufous, however, and the appearance is lighter and grayer, as though bleached. The dark areas predominate, how- ever, throughout October, and, as I have been in- formed by. persons who have killed them throughout the year, it is late in December or January before they become pure white, some few birds showing occasional dark spots even throughout the latter month. “The ptarmigan feeds upon the leaves and stalks of various alpine plants, being particularly fond of those of a species of Cassia, the flowers of which I have frequently taken from its crop. It also lives largely upon insects, and in winter is said to subsist on the buds and leaves of the pines and firs. Its flesh is light- colored, though not as white as thateof the gray grouse, to which it is usually considered inferior for the table. In localities where it is seldom molested, it is very tame, and I have been informed by persons whose word is worthy of belief, that they have frequently killed it with sticks; but when persistently persecuted it soon becomes wild and leaves the range of a shotgun with surprising quickness. After hunting several large flocks for three or four days, they grew so shy that it was difficult to approach within gunshot, although at first they had been comparatively tame. Nimble of foot, the ptarmigan frequently prefers to run away on WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN 201 the approach of danger rather than take wing, run- ning over the rocks and leaping from point to point with great agility, stopping every little while to look at the object of alarm.. I have sometimes chased them half a mile or more over the rocky, craggy ridges of the main range, without being able to get within gunshot or force them to take wing. The flight of the ptarmi- gan is strong, rapid and, at times, sustained for a considerable distance, though usually they fly but a few hundred yards before alighting again. It re- sembles that of the prairie hen, consisting of rapid flappings of the wings, alternating with the sailing flight of the latter bird. The note is a loud cackle, somewhat like the prairie hen’s, yet quite different, and when uttered by a large flock together, reminds one of the confused murmur and gabble of a flock of shore birds about to take wing. It is a gregarious bird, associating in flocks throughout the year, except in the breeding season. The different broods gather together as soon as they are nearly grown, forming large flocks, sometimes of a hundred or more. The colors of this bird closely resemble those of sur- rounding objects at all seasons of the year. In its summer plumage of speckled black and gray it is very difficult to detect while sitting motionless among the gray and lichen-covered rocks. The ptarmigan is ap- parently well aware of this, and often squats and re- mains quiet while one is walking past, trusting to its resemblance to the surrounding rocks to escape obser- vation. So perfect is this resemblance that sometimes, 202 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING on seeing one alight at a certain spot, and withdrawing my eyes from it a moment, I have been unable to find it again, although I knew the exact place where it sat, until a movement on the part of the bird betrayed its position. In summer the white areas of the plum- age are completely hidden while the bird is squatting, although plainly visible while on the wing; in winter the first appearing black specks are concealed beneath the white feathers, and at this period, as I am in- formed, it is almost indistinguishable from the snow. On being pursued, it will dive into the snow and re- appear at a considerable distance.” My experience with this bird has been chiefly in Wyoming, Montana and British Columbia, and usually in the autumn. In the month of November some change in the plumage will be noticed, though this is chiefly in the reduction of the dark-colored areas, rather than in the appearance in them of white feath- ers. Where little disturbed by man, the birds pay but slight regard to the presence of the hunter, and feed along in a close flock without scrutinizing him. If he ventures so near as to alarm them, and this some- times may be within a few feet, they may rise on the wing against the stiff breeze and sail along for a few yards, looking much like a flock of domestic pigeons, to alight after going a very short distance. If the spot where they strike the ground is exposed, and the wind is blowing, the birds crouch flat on the ground, head to the wind, or those that have alighted near stones or rocks projecting from the earth, run and ‘azeumnjd suridg “UeSTULIe}_ P2|Te}-STM WHITE-TAILED. PTARMIGAN 203 crouch behind them; or, if they alight on a snow bank, they quickly scratch out for themselves a little cavity in the snow, large and deep enough to contain the body, so that the wind blows over them. On the other hand, in Montana, among the high mountains of the Saint Mary’s region, where hunters and mountain climbers are often seen, these birds are sometimes quite wild, rising at a considerable dis- tance with a loud cackle, and flying a quarter of a mile to alight again on some prominent rock, upon which they run about with tail erect and head thrown back, cackling in alarm, and ready at an instant’s no- tice to take to wing again and fly still farther. It is only in this region that I have pursued them with a shotgun, and here they are as quick on the wing and as hard to hit as any of the grouse. Sometimes, when following scattered birds along the rough mountain- side, they would pitch down past me from the rocks on which they had perched, with a flight not less rapid than that of the New England ruffed grouse, as he darts down from the top of some pine tree in which he has hidden himself. Two or three years ago, Joseph Kipp, of Montana, while crossing from the west to the east side of the range, through the Belly River Pass, in July, came upon a brood of half-grown ptarmigan. The mother attacked him vigorously, and was so persistent that he caught her and several of the young, and carried them with him for half a day, when he let them go again, because he had nothing which they could eat. 204 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING It is hardly to be supposed that these birds would do well on food other than that to which they are accus- tomed in their home among the high mountains, and any attempt to domesticate them would be foredoomed to failure. It is not improbable that if some one who resided high up in the mountains should try to rear the young he might succeed, but they could not be taken away from the mountains where they belong. In summer or autumn single birds are often met with high up on the peaks, presumably the males whose mates are then busy with their nests or young, and these individual birds usually seem wild. They will often stand and look until quite closely approached, and then run swiftly fifteen or twenty yards, and then stopping, stand erect and watch until again approached. While nowhere very abundant, the white-tailed ptarmigan is yet numerous on all the higher moun- tains which suit the requirements of its life. Half a dozen broods may be found within a range of two miles along the mountain-top, while the number of eggs varies from five or six to fourteen or fifteen. Occasionally, at the approach of winter, a considerable number of the birds will be found together, but I have not seen more than twenty-five or thirty in a flock. Though, in summer, insects, flowers of the heather, berries and seeds undoubtedly constitute a large part of the white-tailed ptarmigan’s food, nevertheless I believe that at all seasons they feed to a considerable extent on the buds and tips of the willow, the largest shrubs which grow near the tops of the mountains. On WHITE-TAILED PTARMIGAN 205 many occasions I have examined their craws and have usually found them stuffed with these willow buds. None of these examinations, however, has been made later than December. Of all our grouse the white-tailed ptarmigan is probably the one least exposed to persecution by man. No doubt some are killed by lynxes, martens and weasels, but on the whole its enemies must be few in number. PINNATED GROUSE. Tympanuchus cupido. Tympanuchus americanus. Tympanuchus americanus attwateri. Tympanuchus pallidicinctus. The familiar prairie chicken or prairie hen of a generation ago was the pinnated grouse, once so abundant in Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky and to the westward. It is remembered by older readers as abun- dant in our markets, where it sold for seventy-five cents per pair. In later years the term prairie chicken has been applied equally to the sharp-tail grouse, a species of more western distribution; and, generally, in the western country, any grouse found in the open are called ‘chickens.” The pinnated grouse include four forms, grouped together under the genus Tympanuchus, a name which refers to the inflatable sac on the neck of all these grouse. All these forms are so similar as hardly to be distinguished by any one save a practiced ornitholo- gist. Birds of this group were formerly abundant on the Atlantic coast, as well as throughout much of the western country until the semi-arid plains were reached. So far as we know, their western boundary, roughly stated, was western Minnesota, eastern Ne- 206 PINNATED GROUSE 207 braska and Kansas, the Indian Territory and western Texas. Birds of this genus are brownish or clay color, cross- banded by dark brown or black. The tail is short and rounded, and the sides of the neck are provided with 17044 .Y <8, SEN O80 5 PINNATED GROUSE conspicuous wing-shaped tufts of straight, stiff black feathers, beneath which is a naked inflatable air sac. In greater detail the color above is pale brownish, barred with dusky and buff; beneath, paler, broadly barred or banded with brown. The quills of the wing are gray or brownish, with buff or whitish on the outer webs. The chin, throat and cheeks are buff, 208 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the cheeks marked with brownish spots. A dark- brown stripe runs from the corner of the mouth under the eye and across the ear, and above this is a stripe of buff. The black tufts of feathers on the side of the neck are stiff and narrow, the longest ones being two and a half inches. The tail feathers are black- ish, tipped with white; the under tail coverts white- tipped. In the female the neck tufts are smaller, usually less than two inches in length, and the tail feathers are barred with light brown. In the ordinary prairie hen of the Mississippi Valley, Tympanuchus americanus, the scapulars are without white dots near the ends, and the neck tufts of the male are composed of more than ten narrow feathers, whose edges are parallel and whose ends are rounded, or sometimes almost square. The feathered young are more or less dotted with patches of white and black and the top of the head is reddish brown. The bird’s length is from eighteen to nineteen inches for the male, and a little less for the female. The Martha’s Vineyard heath hen, T. cupido, is slightly smaller than the western prairie hen, has large and noticeable spots of whitish at the end of the scapu- lar feathers. The neck tufts of the male have not more than ten of the narrow feathers, all of which are sharply pointed. The lesser prairie hen, T. pallidicinctus, is also slightly smaller than the Mississippi Valley prairie hen, and is recognizable because each dark bar across the plumage consists of a continuous brown bar en- PINNATED GROUSE 209 closed between narrower black feathers; in other words, the edges of this dark bar are black, and this is true all over the bird. The lesser prairie hen is found in Kan- sas, southwestern Missouri, Oklahoma and west central Texas. Along the coast region of Texas and southwestern Louisiana is found a well-marked race of pinnated grouse, which Major Bendire named in honor of Mr. H. P. Attwater, who brought the bird to the attention of ornithologists. It is about the size of the lesser prairie hen, but has the foot feathered only on the upper two-thirds of the tarsus; the tips of the long feathers of the wing-like neck tufts are square. THE HEATH HEN. The bird of the Atlantic coast now known as the heath hen is almost extinct, the only existing colony being on Martha’s Vineyard, an island off the coast of Massachusetts. It was formerly found in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Long Island, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Delaware, but has long been exterminated from most of these regions. Thus, long before any of the other so-called prairie grouse had been discovered, the pinnated grouse was well known. Indeed, it may very well be that when the Pilgrim Fathers landed at Plymouth Rock, the first flesh meat that they tasted in the new country was the coast form of what in later times was called prairie hen or prairie chicken, then known as heath cocke or heath 210 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING henne, later changed in pronunciation to héth’n. The bird was long abundant in Massachusetts, in the open, brushy country around the seacoast, where, no doubt, it fed, as do its descendants to-day, at Martha’s Vine- yard, on acorns, berries, grass and insects. It was well known in New England in the first quarter of the nineteenth century, but disappeared soon after that. The old New England writers speak of the heath cocke as common, so that, according to Wood, “Hee that is a husband and will be stirring betime may kill halfe a dozen in a morning.” Mr. William Brewster, in his interesting and com- plete paper, entitled “The Birds of the Cambridge Region of Massachusetts,” says: “T have been permitted to quote the following in- teresting passage from ‘Notes of conversations with Eliza Cabot, written down by her son, J. E. C. (abot),’ and printed for private circulation in 1904: ‘I recol- lect the western prairie grouse in this part of the coun- try. I saw one once in Newton; and once after I was married, your father went down to the cape fishing, and in the woods there I saw a grouse very near me and saw him puff up that orange they have on the side of the neck.’ Eliza Cabot was born on April 17, 1791, and married about 1811. Her granddaughter, Mrs. Charles Almy, thinks it probable that she saw the grouse in Newton about the beginning of the nine- teenth century, and the one on the ‘cape’ (Cape Cod, no doubt) about 1812. That both birds were heath hens can scarcely be doubted, for there is no evidence PINNATED GROUSE 2iI that living western grouse of any kind were intro- duced into Massachusetts at so early a period.” From the evidence given by Mr. Brewster and other writers it may be assumed that the heath hen was more or less abundant on the site of Boston at the time that city was founded, and there is no reason why it should not have been numerous in other favorable sit- uations along the New England coast and to the south- ward. Early writings tell us that it was so. It was found along the seaboard south of New Jersey, and the late C. S. Wescott, of Philadelphia, frequently spoke of it as having occurred—according to tradition —in Maryland and Delaware, on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and on the Peninsula of Maryland and Virginia. Nuttall, as late as 1832, says of the heath hen: “Along the Atlantic coast they are still met with on the grouse plains of New Jersey, on the brushy plains of Long Island, in similar shrubby barrens in Westford, Conn., in the islands of Martha’s Vineyard on the south side of Massachusetts Bay, and formerly, as probably in many other tracts, according to the information which I have received from Lieut.- Governor Winthrop, they were so common on the ancient bushy site of the city of Boston that laboring people or servants stipulated with their employers not to have the heath hen brought to table oftener than a few times in a week!” Linsley, in his list of Connecticut birds, eleven years 212 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING later than Nuttall, speaks of the birds as already ex- tinct in that State. Giraud, writing about 1840, says that even then the bird was practically extinct on Long Island, but that it had been abundant thirty years before. Audubon quotes an interesting letter from a Mr. David Eckley, of Boston, who was in the habit of shooting prairie hens on Martha’s Vineyard. This letter declares that “Nashawenna is the only other island of the group on which they are found,” and further along adds: “It would be difficult to assign a reason why they are found upon the islands above named, and not upon others, particularly Nashann, which, being large, well wooded, and abounding in feed, seems quite as favorable to the peculiar habits of the birds.” Even at that time, according to this letter, the heath hens on Martha’s Vineyard were scarce, for Mr. Eck- ley says that the result of a few weeks’ residence of a party of three is ten brace of birds. The same gentleman says: ‘‘We frequently meet with the remains of such as have been destroyed in vari- ous ways, but more particularly by the domestic cat, which prowls the woods in a wild state, and which often receives a very unwelcome salute for the mis- chief it does. Owls, hawks and skunks also do their part toward the destruction of these valuable but de- fenceless birds. In these ways they are thinned off much more effectually than by the sportsman’s gun. They fre- quent no particular soil, and, like all other hunting, PINNATED GROUSE 213 wherever the food is, there is the likeliest place for the game. In addition to this rule as a guide, we look for their fresh tracks among the sandy barberry hil- locks and along the numerous patches which intersect that remarkable part of the Vineyard called Tisbury Plain. Into this, should the birds fly from the hedges, as they sometimes do, it is almost impossible to start them a second time, as there are no trees or large objects to mark their flight. Being mostly covered with scrub oak of a uniform height, with occasional mossy hollows, it affords them a place of refuge, into which they fly for protection, but from which they soon emerge, when the danger is passed, to their more favourite haunts.” This letter was written in December, 1832. The ornithologists of the first half of the nineteenth century did not differentiate the pinnated grouse of the Mississippi Valley from the eastern bird, and spoke of the pinnated grouse as even then almost extermi- nated from its old range on the Atlantic coast. A con- temporary statement of interest as to the heath hen is that made by Elisha J. Lewis in “The American Sports- man,” published in Pennsylvania, 1857. He says: “The prairie hen was, no doubt, at one time widely disseminated over our whole country, more particularly in those portions interspersed with dry, open plains sur- rounded by thin shrubbery or scantily covered with trees. Unlike the ruffed grouse, this bird delights in the clear, open prairie grounds, and will desert those districts entirely which in the lapse of time become 214 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING covered with forest. These birds are very rare— in fact, may almost be considered extinct in the North- ern and Middle States. Within a few years they were quite abundant on some portions of Long Island. They were also to be found in Burlington County, N. J., and in some few other places. There are, however, still a few to be found on the Jersey plains, and every season we hear of some of our sporting acquaintances exterminating a small pack. We know of ten braces being killed this season (1848), and about the same number last year by the same party; and, as usual, in both instances these scarce and beautiful birds were butchered long before the time sanctioned by the strong —or, rather, the weak—arm of the law. “Thus it is that the destructive hand of the would- be respectable poacher, as well as the greedy gun of the pothunter, hastens to seal the fate of the doomed prairie hen in these eastern regions, and we may predict with great certainty that ere long not one will be found, save upon the rich plains of the West; from which also, in course of time, they will be driven and ultimately perish, root and branch, from before the unerring guns of their ruthless destroyers. We un- derstand that there are still a few of these birds to be found in Pennsylvania—we believe in Northampton County—where the pine forests are thin and open and the country about them such as prairie hens delight in. They have always been abundant in the barrens of Kentucky and Tennessee, as also in the balmy plains and fertile prairies of Louisiana, Indiana and Illinois. PINNATED GROUSE 215 So numerous were they a short time since in the bar- rens of Kentucky, and so contemptible were they as game birds, that few huntsmen would deign to waste powder and shot on them. In fact, they were held in pretty much the same estimation, or, rather, abhor- rence, that the crows are now in Pennsylvania or other of the Middle and Southern States, as they perpetrated quite as much mischief upon the tender buds and fruits of the orchards, as well as the grain in the fields, and were often so destructive to the crops, that it was absolutely necessary for the farmers to employ their young negroes to drive them away by shooting off guns and springing loud rattles all around the plantations from morning till night. As for eating them, such a thing was hardly dreamed of, the negroes themselves preferring the coarsest food to this now much admired bird; while the young sports- man exercised his skill in rifle shooting upon them, in anticipation of more exciting sport among the other prized denizens of the plains and forest. Prairie chick- ens have not only deserted Long Island, Martha’s Vine- yard, Elizabeth Island, New Jersey, and their other haunts to the eastward, but they have also removed even farther west than the barrens of Kentucky. .. .” Lewis says also in the course of this article that the pinnated grouse are easily domesticated, and will pair and hatch in captivity—all this from Audubon. The species has been extinct for more than forty years in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Mr. Witmer Stone says that up to 1868, and probably later, 216 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING a few were said to occur on the barren plains which cover portions of Ocean and Burlington counties in New Jersey. This is a part of the pine barren region, an elevated, dry tract covered with dwarf pines, which average not more than a foot and a half in height. Turnbull, in his “Birds of Eastern Pennsylvania,” states that in 1869 a few survived in Monroe and Northampton counties in that State. The heath hen is very similar to the prairie hen, but slightly smaller. The tufts of pointed neck feathers are shorter and, as already said, the bird has slight points of difference in color. Though called a wood- land bird, it is much in the open or in the thick, low scrub oak and pines which cover an area of forty miles square. There are thought to be not more than 150 or 200 of these birds left alive, and they are therefore more nearly extinct than the buffalo. They are already protected by law and should be still more strongly protected by public opinion of the resi- dents of Martha’s Vineyard, who ought to feel proud of this bird and to do everything in their power to preserve it. Not much had been written about the heath hen on Martha’s Vineyard until the year 1885, when Mr. William Brewster visited the island for the special purpose of studying the bird. He reported the re- sults of this visit in the Auk, and in 1890 repeated the trip and gained additional information, which was printed in Forest and Stream. He said : “Throughout Martha’s Vineyard, the heath hen PINNATED GROUSE 217° (locally pronounced héth’n, as this grouse is uni- versally called) is well known to almost every one. Even in such seaport towns as Cottage City and Edgarstown, most of the people have at least heard of it, and in the thinly settled interior it is frequently seen in the roads or along the edges of the cover by the farmers, or started in the depths of the woods by the hounds of the rabbit and fox hunters. “Its range extends, practically, over the entire wooded portion of the island, but the bird is not found regularly or at all numerously outside an area of about forty square miles. This area comprises most of the elevated central portions of the island, although it also touches the sea at not a few points on the north and south shores. In places it rolls into great rounded hills and long, irregular ridges, over which are scat- tered stretches of second-growth woods, often miles in extent, and composed chiefly of scarlet, black, white and post oaks, from fifteen to forty feet in height. Here and there, where the valleys spread out broad and level, are fields which were cleared by the early set- tlers more than a hundred years ago, and which still retain sufficient fertility to yield very good crops of English hay, corn, potatoes and other vegetables: Again, this undulating surface gives way to wide, level, sandy plains, covered with a growth of bear, chinqua- pin and post-oak scrub, from knee to waist high, so stiff and matted as to be almost impenetrable; or to rocky pastures, dotted with thickets of sweet fern, bay- 218 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING berry, huckleberry, dwarf sumac and other low-grow- ing shrubs. “Clear, rapid trout brooks wind their way to the sea through open meadows, or long, narrow swamps, wooded with red maples, black alders, high huckleberry bushes, andromeda and poison dogwood, and overrun with tangled skeins of green briars. “At all seasons the heath hens live almost exclusively in the oak woods, where the acorns furnish them abun- dant food, although, like our ruffed grouse, they occa- sionally at early morning and just after sunset ven- ture out a little way in the open to pick up scattered grains of corn or to pluck a few clover leaves, of which they are extremely fond. They also wander to some extent over the scrub-oak plains, especially when blue- berries are ripe and abundant. In winter, during long- continued snows, they sometimes approach buildings, to feed upon the grain which the farmers throw out to them. A man living near West Tisbury told me that last winter a flock visited his barn at about the same hour each day. One cold, snowy morning he counted sixteen perched in a row on the top rail of a fence near the barnyard. It is unusual to see so many to- gether now, the number in a covey rarely exceeding six or eight, but in former times packs containing from one to two hundred birds each were occasionally met with late in the autumn. “Only one person of the many whom I questioned on the subject had ever seen a heath hen’s nest. It was in oak woods, among sprouts at the base of a large PINNATED GROUSE 219 stump, and contained either twelve or thirteen eggs. The date, he thought, was about June 10. This seemed late, but I have a set of six eggs taken on the Vineyard July 24, 1885, and on July 19, 1890, I met a blueberry picker who only the day before had started a brood of six young, less than half grown. These facts prove that this bird is habitually a late breeder. “The farmers about Tisbury say that in spring the male heath hen makes a booming or tooting noise. This, according to their descriptions, must resemble the love notes of the western pinnated grouse. About sunrise, on warm, still mornings in May, several birds may be sometimes heard at once, apparently answer- ing one another. “During my stay at Martha’s Vineyard, I obtained as many estimates as possible of the number of heath hens which are believed to exist there at the present time. My most trustworthy informants were, credit- ably, averse to what was apparently mere idle guessing ; but when I questioned them, first as to the extent of the region over which the birds ranged, and next as to how many on the average could be found in a square mile within this region, they answered readily enough, and even with some positiveness. As already stated, the total present range of the heath hen covers about forty square miles. The estimates of the average number of birds per mile varied from three to five, giving from 120 to 200 birds for the total number. These estimates, it should be stated, relate to the num- ber of birds believed to have been left over from last 220 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING winter. If these breed freely and at all successfully, there should be a total of fully 500, young and old to- gether, at the beginning of the present autumn. When one considers the limited area to which these birds are confined, it is evident that within this area they must be reasonably abundant. I was assured that with the aid of a good dog it was not at all difficult to start twenty-five or thirty in a day, and on one occasion eight were killed by two guns. This, however, can be done only by those familiar with the country and the habits of the birds.” The fact that but a small remnant was left of this once widely distributed species aroused much interest in it, and after a time the Massachusetts authorities began to consider measures for its preservation. Be- fore any steps looking to its preservation had been taken, the numbers of the birds had still further di- minished, and observations made on the island from October, 1906, to May, 1907, at a time when they were collected in large flocks, seemed to justify the conclu- sion that the number of individuals was less than one hundred. The report of the commissioners on fisheries and game for the year ending December 31, 1907, declares that by actual count of the flocks located in various sections of the range, seventy-seven individuals were enumerated. In May, 1906, a destructive forest fire swept practically the entire breeding grounds, and very few birds were reared that season. The summer of 1907, however, was a favorable one. At least ten *A10\STH{ [BINjEN jo wasn uvowewy ur dnois wor ‘S90 puB ssnoIg, ps}euUuld PINNATED GROUSE 221 broods were successfully reared, and it was believed that the number had more than doubled. The first protective law relating to the heath hen is said to have been passed in 1831. This provided for a closed season from March 1 to September 1. In 1837 there was established a closed season of four years, which in the same year was extended for five years more. These Acts, however, permitted any town to suspend the law, so far as that town was concerned, for such a period as might be deemed expedient, and in 1842 the town of Tisbury did suspend the law for a period of ten days on more than one occasion. In fact, the law in behalf of these birds fell into desuetude and no effort was made to enforce it up to about 1905. The inhabitants of Martha’s Vineyard felt a local pride in having there a bird found nowhere else in the world, but this local pride was not strong enough to protect the species. An observer who visited the island in the spring of 1906 made to the commissioners on fisheries and game of Massachusetts a report which gives much in- teresting detail as to the habits of the heath hen at the particular time when they are preparing to mate, and is well worth quoting in full. He says: “At 6 P.M. we arrived at the point where we hoped to find traces of the heath hen. Ina cleared field, about thirty rods from the road, we distinctly saw two large birds. On our nearer approach they squatted close and their protective coloration was so effective that although we knew almost exactly the precise location 222 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of the birds, we could not distinguish them. We crawled behind the nearest cover and remained mo- tionless for perhaps ten minutes. At length the long shadows from the descending sun enabled us to dis- tinguish the birds as they crouched with head close to the ground among the very scanty vegetation. After another interval of motionless activity on our part, one bird quickly arose and began feeding, apparently without suspicion; soon two more birds arose as if by magic from the ground. Then began a most inter- esting series of antics. These birds were joined by five others, coming in singly and on foot from the scrub in various directions. The birds came frequently within forty paces of our hiding place, and in one instance alighted on a small oak tree twenty-three paces from our camera. While not near enough for suc- cessful photographing, we were well situated for using our field-glasses. The birds were all actively feeding in the open field, apparently on grasshoppers and other insects, but nipping red clover leaves very freely. They moved leisurely about. Frequently two birds, some- times as much as a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards apart, ran directly toward each other, dancing and blowing on the way, with the so-called ‘neck wings’ pointed upward in a V form. On facing each other, both squatted and remained motionless from one to five minutes. We could see none of the nodding and pecking motions of the head so commonly indulged in by domestic fowls when fighting; rarely was there sparring with the bill, or striking with the feet or PINNATED GROUSE 223 wings. In twelve or fifteen encounters, only three or four times did they strike thus, and only once did we see ‘feathers fly.’ Most of the energy seems to be spent in posturing and blowing. Generally, one of the combatants backs slowly away, suddenly stopping if the opponent advances too rapidly. In all these fight- ing tactics the similarity of habits with those of the domestic fowl were very marked. From all directions came the peculiar foot, like distant tugboats in a fog, all having whistles of the same pitch. This call may be well imitated by blowing gently into the neck of a two-drachm homeopathic vial. Each call extends over a period of two seconds, and is repeated at frequent intervals. It is prefaced by a run of about one yard, with very rapid, mincing steps. The strides, however, are so short that the bird does not advance rapidly. The tail is spread and the wings dropped after the manner of the strutting turkey-cock. When the tail is spread, the white under-tail coverts are conspicuous and remind one forcibly of the ‘white flag’ of the deer and antelope, or of our gray rabbit. The head is then depressed and the neck outstretched forward, until it is parallel with the surface of the ground; the neck tufts are elevated to a V shape. The bright, orange- colored air-sacs on each side of the neck, directly be- hind the tufts of feathers, are slowly inflated until they reach apparently the size of a tennis ball, when they appear like two small ripe oranges, one protruding from either side of the neck. The duration of the call appears to closely coincide with the period of infla- 224 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING tion, and seems to be emitted as the air enters the sac, rather than when the air is expelled. The collapse of the sac is sudden. The sound is ventriloquial, and it is very difficult to locate the direction or distance whence it comes, unless the bird can be seen. A sec- ond sort of call is much less frequent and closely re- sembles a single syllable of the hoot of the barred owl. “Another characteristic antic was a peculiar combi- nation of a short run, a sudden jump of three to five feet into the air, and a rapid uncoGrdinated flop and scramble in the air, the bird usually alighting within ten or twenty feet of the starting point, but turn- ing so as to face at least at right angles, or even in the opposite direction from which it started. When in the air it emits a peculiar cacophonous call or cackle, which, when heard at a distance, gives the impression of a hearty burst of laughter. The purpose of these semi-somersault-like maneuvers appeared to be to at- tract the attention of other birds, possibly even as a challenge, for frequently they seemed to precede the somewhat pacific duels described above. The effect of these sounds, together with the tooting calls, in the mists which so often obtain in their habitat before sunrise, is weird in the extreme. At 4:15 A.M., on May 2, these sounds were practically continuous, with- out appreciable interval, apparently from all directions. At 4:45 A.M. six birds could be counted, all in sight at once. They appeared to resort to a particular, clear space, of about two acres in extent, where the antics just described were carried on. All the birds, except PINNATED GROUSE 225 one, were observed to have the orange-colored air- sacs. These were probably cocks. We saw only one bird which we suspected might be a hen. The other hens were probably nesting, or at least had secured mates, and no longer resorted to the promenading place. As the sun rose high the tooting became less frequent; the birds became more restless, often flying to the neighboring low oaks, resting there until disturbed.” William Hazen Gates, of Williamstown, Mass., worked that spring with the Massachusetts commis- sioners, studying the habits of the heath hen, in order to secure information which might be of use in arti- ficially propagating the species. He says: “On May 31, while wandering across the plains, three heath hens were started, and each taking wing flew nearly out of sight before alighting. As I watched the birds, a call, resembling to a slight degree that of an ordinary barnyard cock calling to the hens, was heard not far distant. The place was noted as nearly as possible, and then cautiously I made my way there. When the place was reached I looked for birds, but could see none. I then sat down and determined to wait, in order to see if any birds could be heard. The ground was covered with leaves, so the least stir would have been heard. I listened and also looked for signs of anything moving, but none appeared. I sat there for fully twenty minutes and, hearing nothing, con- cluded that either there were no birds or else they had gone as I approached. As I rose a bird flew up within 226 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING twenty feet of where I had been watching. The bird had been within sight all the while, but probably had crouched in the leaves and remained invisible. It would have been interesting to note how much longer the bird would have stayed in this position without moving. Another bird was started some fifty feet from this one. “On this same day the toots of one or more heath hens were heard between half-past four and five A.M. The birds are early risers and late bed-goers. Once they were heard to foot at 3:30 a.M., or about an hour before sunrise; and several times their call note was heard as early as this. It is probable, though, that they do not begin to stir quite so early, beginning their breakfasting about sunrise or a little earlier. The mid- dle of the day is generally spent in the shade, or in dust- ing in the sun in the roads. Late in the afternoon, as the air begins to cool, they take to feeding again, and can be seen in the open fields. They will often feed till nearly an hour after sundown. I do not know whether they roost in the low shrubbery or on the ground at night. Mother birds with young, however, stay on the ground, but it is likely that this is done only while the young are too small to roost and need the shelter of the mother. “On June 29 a bevy of heath hens was found. The mother bird took flight, cackling, and flew some fifty feet or so. The young scudded in every direction, and were entirely out of sight by the time I reached the spot. I hunted around through the leaves some, but PINNATED GROUSE 227 fearing that I might accidentally step on one, did not search very carefully, and so did not see any. Two days later, what I think must have been the same bevy was again seen, but about half a mile from the place where they were first seen. This time they were in a more or less cleared space, and six of the young were counted. One or two squatted just where they were, and it looked as if one might go right up to them and pick them up. I did not, however, disturb them. These birds were apparently not over a week old. “On July 2 a mother heath hen and four young were seen dusting in a road about 11 A.M. Upon seeing me the mother ran to the bushes and called to the young. As I went by I could hear the mother hen at the side of the road in the bushes. The same day in the after- noon, a mother hen and one young bird were seen. “On July 7, while walking through the brush near the Cromwell cottage, soon after sundown, I heard some peeping ahead. Getting on my hands and knees, I crawled toward the sound. The peeping continued as I approached, so I knew that I had not been per- ceived. Finally, at a distance of some twenty or twenty-five feet, I saw a mother hen with wings spread under the thick foliage of a stunted oak. She was more or less silent, only occasionally uttering a low call, somewhat resembling that of a hen as she calls her chicks at night under her wings. The young, how- ever, peeped quite often as they stole in and out from under the wings of the mother. I think they could not have been much more than a day or two old. 228 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Like the chicks of other fowls, they could not seem to get settled for the night, but would stray in and out. Then as they sought a place of shelter again they would shove one of their fellows out from under the mother’s wing. However, as darkness grew the rest- lessness ceased, and by the time it was too dark to see the group everything was silent. How many there were in the bevy I could not tell, but it seemed that there must have been at least six or eight.” Though the number of these birds is so pitifully small, yet, as already suggested, they pack in the same way as does the western pinnated grouse. The report of the Massachusetts commissioners on fisheries and game for 1907 states that on January 11, 1908, a flock was counted which contained not less than fifty-five nor more than sixty birds. The same report declares that the birds remained in these flocks until late in February and began to utter their calls on the approach of warm weather, and when this takes place the flocks break up and the season for mating begins. The elabo- rate performances earlier described begin about April 1, and end about the middle of June, being at their greatest height the last of April and early part of May. The chicks are hatched in June and in July. When about the size of quails they make long flights when alarmed. Among experiments carried on by the Massachusetts commission was the taking of a set of nine heath hen eggs, which were placed under a bantam hen. Only one of these eggs hatched, and the chick was at once PINNATED GROUSE 229 killed by the hen. The hen was subsequently given some pheasant eggs, and hatched them and reared the chicks with all possible care. That this bird possesses a high interest, not only for the sportsman, but because it is now on the very point of extinction, is obvious. Much has been said and written about its preservation, but the credit for setting on foot a movement which it is hoped may pre- vent the extermination of the species is due to Mr. J. E. Howland. He urged the importance of the situation on the Massachusetts commission, and a permanent guardian was located in the region inhabited by the birds to study their habits and enforce the law. Some- what later, Representative Mayhew introduced a bill into the General Court, placing under the use and control of the commission such lands as may be do- nated, leased, purchased or otherwise placed under temporary or permanent control, as a refuge and breed- ing area for the heath hen. A number of individuals have subscribed money to enable the commission to take advantage of this law, and about sixteen hundred acres have been placed under special protection. The Massa- chusetts legislature has authorized the commissioners to take such unimproved lands upon Martha’s Vine- yard—not exceeding one thousand acres—as they may deem necessary for the purpose of making fire stops for the protection from fire of the feeding and breed- ing grounds of the pinnated grouse, or of otherwise securing the maintenance and increase of such pinnated grouse or of any other species of wild birds upon said 230 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING islands. Two thousand dollars was appropriated for work incidental to these purposes and for an inves- tigation and reports upon the best methods and possible cost of protecting and increasing the colonies of birds on the island. This appropriation, and the authority to take the land, ought to protect the heath hen from a danger which has been of late years the most im- portant element in reducing its numbers—the bush and forest fires. The pinnated grouse of the West have suffered from the same cause. An investigation by the commissioners on fisheries and game of the problems involved in the preservation of the heath hen leads them to believe that one or more extensive areas, whether they be called reserves, sanc- tuaries or refuges, should be acquired by the common- wealth and patrolled and maintained. Such refuges should include the chief breeding and feeding grounds of the birds, and on the land should be sown crops of clover and such cultivated grains as they delight to feed on; that suitable fire stops or breaks should be maintained in order to reduce the danger of bush fires, so destructive to the birds in the past; that every pre- caution should be taken against the contagious diseases which might be transmitted to these wild birds through domestic fowls; that as soon as the number of birds is sufficiently increased, systematic artificial incubation, feeding and breeding should be begun for the purpose of rearing annually an increased number of birds. The commissioners believe that by artificial propagation the number of eggs laid may be increased, while it is PINNATED GROUSE 231 obvious that this means will lessen the loss resulting from the destruction of nests, eggs and young birds by natural enemies, whether mammals or birds. They believe that the expenditure involved would be prac- tically that incidental to ordinary poultry raising, ex- cept that on account of the hardiness and vigor of the grouse it would need little or no winter shelter. The commissioners, in their report for the year 1907, report contributions from private individuals of not less than $2,420 for the purpose of preserving these birds. Of this sum, the town of Tisbury and the Mid- dlesex Sportsmen’s Association made the largest con- tributions of $200 each, but there are a large number of subscribers, and the list ought to be largely added to, since every sportsman and every naturalist in the land should be ambitious to have some share in the good work of re-establishing this splendid bird. THE PRAIRIE HEN. This is the form of pinnated grouse that has been known to sportsmen. Its range was chiefly in the Mississippi Valley, including Minnesota, Michigan, western Ohio, Kentucky, but perhaps not Tennessee, though it was found in Louisiana, southern Texas, Indian Territory, Kansas, Nebraska and the eastern parts of both Dakotas. It is now found in Manitoba, southeastern Saskatchewan, to eastern Colorado, north- eastern Texas, Arkansas, western Kentucky and In- diana and intermediate regions, where it was at one 232 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING time enormously abundant, and, being exceedingly tame at certain seasons of the year, was very readily destroyed. Throughout almost all this region the bird was resi- dent, though in the northern portion it regularly made seasonal changes of location, which, though commonly called migratory, hardly deserve to be so character- ized. On this point Mr. W. W. Cooke, in his report on “Bird Migration in the Mississippi Valley,” says: “The prairie chicken is commonly said to be a resi- dent bird, and so it is in a larger part of this range, but in Iowa a regular though local migration takes place. This has been mentioned by former writers, and in the spring of 1884 a special study was made of the matter. Many observers unite in testifying to the facts in the case, and, what is still more important, there is not a dissenting voice. One of the observers does not exaggerate when he says: ‘Prairie chickens migrate as regularly as the Canada goose.’ Summing up all the information received, the facts of the case are as follows: In November and December large flocks of prairie chickens come from northern lowa and southern Minnesota to settle for the winter in northern Missouri and southern Iowa. This migration varies in bulk with the severity of the winter. “During an early cold snap immense flocks come from the northern prairies to southern Iowa, while in mild, open winters the migration is much less pro- nounced, During a cold, wet spring the northward movement in March and April is largely arrested on PINNATED GROUSE 233 the arrival of the flocks in northern Iowa, but an early spring with fair weather finds them abundant in the southern tiers of counties in Minnesota, and many flocks pass still farther north. The most remarkable feature of this movement is found in the sex of the migrants. It is the females that migrate, leaving the males to brave the winter’s cold. Mr. Miller, of Heron Lake, Minn., fairly states the case when he says: ‘The females in this latitude migrate south in the fall and come back in the spring, about one or two days after the first ducks; and they keep coming in flocks of from ten to thirty for about three days, all flying north. The grouse that stayed all winter are males.’ ” Audubon noticed and spoke of these movements nearly a hundred years ago, for in his account of this species he says: “During the first years of my residence at Hender- son (Ky.), in severe winters, the number of grouse of this species was greatly augmented by large flocks of them that evidently came from Indiana, Illinois and even from the western side of the Mississippi. They retired at the approach of spring.” When John James Audubon first lived in Kentucky, the “Barrens’—by which is meant open stretches of land without timber—swarmed with these birds, and they were looked on more or less as a pest. They were credited with committing much mischief among the fruit trees of the orchards in winter, and in the spring they fed on the grain in the new-sown fields. They 234 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING were so abundant as to be caught in pens and traps, and any one could kill as many as he wished. Indeed, Audubon speaks of a friend who was fond of practicing rifle shooting, who killed upward of forty in one morn- ing and did not pick them up. Twenty-five years later Audubon speaks of them as at that time not being found in any numbers east of the State of Illinois, and says that there, too, they are decreasing at a rapid rate. At the approach of spring the large packs, which have held together during the winter, break up into smaller companies of from twenty to fifty, and before long—in March or April—the mating begins. This has been spoken of by many writers as the booming of the prairie chicken, or the dance of the prairie hen, though this last term is more commonly applied to the spring maneuvers of the sharp-tailed grouse. This mating has been described in a somewhat spectacular manner by Audubon, but recent observers have not seen such fierce encounters as he describes. An excellent account of this mating play was printed in Forest and Stream many years ago by Judge John Dean Caton, an early settler of Illinois, who had been familiar with these birds for almost all his life. He says: “The spring of the year is the season of courtship with them, and it does not last all the year round, as it does with humans, and they do it in rather a loud way, too; and instead of taking the evening, as many people are inclined to do, they choose the early morn- ing. Early in the morning you may see them assemble PINNATED GROUSE 235 in parties, from a dozen to fifty together, on some high, dry knolls, where the grass is short, and their goings on would make you laugh. The cock birds have a loose patch of naked’yellow skin on each side of their neck just below the head, and above these on either side, just where the head joins the neck, are a few long black feathers, which ordinarily lie back on the neck, but which, when excited, they can pitch straight for- ward. These yellow naked patches on either side of the neck cover sacs which they can blow up like a bladder whenever they choose. These are their ornaments, which they display to the best advantage before the gentler sex at these love feasts. This they do by blow- ing up these air-sacs till they look like two ripe oranges, on each side of the neck, projecting their long, black ears right forward, ruffling up all the feathers of the body till they stand out straight, and dropping their wings to the ground like a turkey cock. Now they look just lovely, as the coy, timid maidens seem to say, as they cast side glances at them, full of admiration and love. “Then it is that the proud cock, in order to complete his triumph, will rush forward at his best speed for two or three rods through the midst of the lovesick damsels, pouring out as he goes a booming noise, al- most a hoarse roar, only more subdued, which may be heard for at least two miles in the still morning air. This heavy booming sound is by no means harsh or unpleasant; on the contrary, it is soft and even har- monious. When standing in the open prairie at early 236 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING dawn, listening to hundreds of different voices, pitched on different keys, coming from every direction and from various distances, the listener is rather soothed than excited. If this sound is heavier than the deep keynotes of a large organ, it is much softer, though vastly more powerful, and may be heard at a much greater distance. One who has heard such a concert can never after mistake or forget it. “Every few minutes this display is repeated. I have seen not only one, but more than twenty cocks going through this funny operation at once, but then they seem careful not to run against each other, for they have. not yet got to the fighting point. After a little while the lady birds begin to show an interest in the proceedings by moving about quickly, a few yards at a time, and then standing still a short time. When these actions are continued by a large number of birds at a time, it presents a funny sight, and you can easily think they are moving to the measure of music. “The party breaks up when the sun is half an hour high, to be repeated the next morning and every morn- ing for a week or two before all make satisfactory matches. It is toward the latter part of the love season that the fighting takes place among the cocks, probably by two who have fallen in love with the same sweet- heart, whose modesty prevents her from selecting be- tween them.” Audubon reports that he tried the experiment of puncturing the inflatable air-sacs on the neck of a male prairie chicken. He caught one of the birds and passed PINNATED GROUSE. 237 the point of a pin through each sac, and found that thereafter it was unable to toot. He performed this same experiment with another bird on one side only, and found that the next morning it uttered the tooting sound with the uninjured air-sac, but could not inflate the one that had been punctured. He states that his efforts to decoy this species by imitating its curious sounds were unsuccessful, “although the ruffed grouse is easily deceived in this manner.” After the close of the mating operations the locations of the nests are selected. Often they may be in hedges and the margins of clumps of underbrush, in fence cor- ners or along the borders of sloughs, but often, again, in the middle of a field amid the tall grass. The eggs number from eleven to fourteen, and sets of twenty or even twenty-one eggs are not unknown. They vary in color from cream to light olive or pale brown, and are often regularly spotted with fine pin-points of reddish brown. Captain Bendire regards the prairie chicken as one of the most prolific of our game birds. Now, however, comes the season of danger; the eggs have been deposited in a slight depression, scratched out among the weeds or grass, and the hen begins to brood. If she has nested early and the season is late, the streams may rise and flood her nest and destroy the eggs or drown the tiny young, if they have already hatched ; or early prairie fires, burning among the dead grass and weeds of the preceding season, may destroy mother and clutch alike; or, later still, the mowing machine may kill the mother or the young, too small 238 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING to fly and too inexperienced to force themselves through the thick grass away from the approaching danger. In old times it used to be said that in wet seasons thou- sands and thousands of prairie chickens’ nests were ploughed under when the fields were being prepared for grain. Certain it is that the combination of all these dangers, together with the insatiate gunner, at one time came very near exterminating the pinnated grouse from the States of Illinois and Indiana. If the mother bird is fortunate enough to bring off her young, she leads them about much as do other grouse, to the best feeding grounds. She is watchful of danger for them, and at her warning cry the young squat on the ground, which they so closely resemble that it is almost impossible to find one of them. The mother uses every art to lead the intruder away from the brood. The birds grow rapidly, and by the middle of August—the date at which up to within a few years it has been legal to shoot them—are nearly two-thirds grown. They are then very easily killed, and the sport becomes mere butchery. When cold weather ap- proaches, however, they grow stronger of wing, and soon after this pack. ‘Audubon was perhaps the first to announce that the pinnated grouse is easily tamed and easily kept. He declares also that they breed in confinement. A number that he had while at Henderson were turned loose in his garden and orchard, and within a week became so tame as to allow him to approach them. They readily ate corn and vegetables, became so gentle PINNATED GROUSE 239 during the winter as to feed from the hand of his wife, and altogether acted as domestic poultry might act. In spring they went through the operations of mating just as did their wild brethren, and a number of them hatched, but at last the birds proved so destructive in the garden that they were ordered to be killed. As will be seen on another page, birds sent to Eng- land became quite tame, and many years ago I had a dozen of these grouse in New York, which, when turned out in the spring, so readily accustomed themselves to their surroundings that they followed a man who was spading the garden and scratched and crowded over the freshly turned-up earth in search of insects. They were less wild than so many domestic hens. In many of its ways, the pinnated grouse suggests a domestic fowl. Though often carrying its tail droop- ing toward the ground, it often carries it upright, as a hen carries her tail. The mother of a young brood will fight for it, or at least will try to frighten away an intruder. The young chicks constantly talk to each other as they move along, and if one of them discovers an insect and runs after it all those within sight join in the pursuit. Mr. E. E. Thompson, in his “Birds of Manitoba,” points out that, while it was only in 1881 or 1882 that the pinnated grouse was found in Manitoba, before 1890 it had become common at many points, such as Winnipeg, Portage la Prairie and other localities. Pre- vious to this, in 1872, Dr. Coues had written: 240 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING “T have no reason to believe that it occurs at all in northwestern Minnesota or North Dakota.” In Manitoba they seem more or less to associate with the sharp-tailed grouse, so much so that sometimes birds of both species will be started from before the dog. When winter comes, however, and the sharp-tailed grouse go into the woods, the pinnated grouse stay out on the prairie. LESSER PRAIRIE HEN. The range of the lesser prairie hen has already been given. While riding over the prairie through the western part of the Indian Territory in the month of March, I have more than once driven for hours through flocks of these birds, contentedly feeding on the prairie and wholly disregarding the wagon, which passed close to them. On these occasions we must have seen many thousands of the birds, and it is probable that imme- diately after this the packs broke up and the mating season began. The pursuit of this form differs in no respect from that of its slightly larger relative to the North and East. The most southern range in Texas of Attwater’s prairie hens is given as just north of Fort Brown, near the coast, and it is very abundant south of San Antonio. PINNATED GROUSE 241 THE PINNATED GROUSE TO-DAY. An inquiry made in 1906 among the game commis- sioners of States where prairie chickens were formerly very abundant brought out a number of replies of great interest. Mr. E. E. Earle, then chief deputy warden of the State of Indiana, wrote to Forest and Stream as follows: “Our supply of pinnated grouse decreased rapidly from yedr to year until 1901. Prior to that time the open season had run from September 1 of any year to February 1 of the succeeding year. Under this law large numbers of these birds were slaughtered every year, they being young, not gun shy, and easily found. “In 1901 a law was passed prohibiting the killing of pinnated grouse, or possession of same, at any time between January 1 and November 10, and prohibiting export of such birds. Under the provisions of this act, which was rigorously enforced, pinnated grouse have increased in numbers, and may be found in great droves on our prairies and marshes. “I was in Porter County last March, and one duck hunter told me of having seen in one flock what he estimated to have been one hundred prairie chickens, and such scenes are by no means rare. Wise laws and strict enforcement of same will increase them in any country that is suitable for their habitation.” Illinois, in the youth of men who are now elderly, was the great chicken ground of what used to be called \ 242 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the West, but the birds were so persecuted that a few years ago it was supposed that this grouse was nearly extinct there. Within the last few years, however, a great change is reported. State Game Commissioner John A. Wheeler wrote: “My deputy game wardens throughout the State re- port prairie chickens, pinnated grouse, rapidly increas- ing. Our deputy wardens in Wayne County report 3,000 birds in that county by actual count. In Sanga- mon County, from personal observation and reports from the deputy wardens, I am convinced that we have nearly that many birds. From all over the State we are receiving encouraging reports of the increase of prairie chickens.” Almost the northwestern limit of the pinnated grouse’s range is western Minnesota, and of this coun- try Mr. S. F. Fullerton, then the executive agent of Minnesota’s board of game and fish commissioners, reported interestingly. It is obvious that unless the cultivation of the land is such as to provide food for the pinnated grouse they will not do well there, and the character of Minnesota farming, which is largely dairy- ing on small farms, is not such as to encourage occu- pancy by the pinnated grouse. In two letters, Mr. Fullerton said: “The pinnated grouse, or prairie chicken, is disap- pearing from a large section of our State. It cannot stand civilization, but it is very odd that in new por- tions of the State that have been opened up they are PINNATED GROUSE 243 very plentiful, and we have sections in Minnesota where the pinnated grouse are just as thick as they ever were. “The State game warden of Manitoba states that their prairie chickens are not disappearing at all; in fact, they are increasing under rigid protection and stopping the sale. That is only across an imaginary line of Minnesota and Dakota, where these birds are plentiful, but in the southern part of our State, where dairying has taken the place of grain-raising, there are hardly any of the birds left. The sharp-tailed grouse, however, are different, as they are found in the brush country in great numbers where farms are opened up. “A very pleasing thing happened to me last March. I was up in the northern part of the State, and in a drive of three hours I came across a stretch of land that had been cleared of jack pine. The clearing was several miles in extent, but it was surrounded by jack pine. The snow at the time was over two feet deep. The land last year was cultivated, some corn grown on it and some wheat and other coarse grain. In that clear- ing, the man with me and I counted over two hundred pinnated grouse. They appeared to have wintered finely and seemed in good condition.” When we reach Nebraska, we approach the limit of the pinnated grouse and enter the region of the sharp- tail just as we do in Minnesota. Both species were formerly abundant in Nebraska, but were so overshot by thoughtless gunners and by market shooters that they became rare. Mr. G. L. Carter, then chief warden 244 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of Nebraska’s game and fish commission, wrote fully about birds in Nebraska: “We have both the pinnated and sharp-tailed grouse, and we are so proud of them that it is a pleasure for me to tell you about them. The pinnated grouse are found more abundantly in the central and eastern parts of the State, while the sharp-tailed grouse are found in the northwest portion. “A peculiar thing is that we seldom find a sharp- tailed grouse south of the Platte River; when we do, it is late in the season. The breeding and rearing grounds are principally in the northern and western sections, but a few are raised in other parts of the State. “During the winter months, on account of scarcity of food in the north part of the State, which is prin- cipally grazing country, the birds are driven farther south, usually along the Platte River valley, some- times going as far south as the northern counties of ‘Kansas. “A few days ago, while going from this city to Omaha, I saw a bunch of perhaps 100 pinnated grouse within eight miles of the Omaha city limits. It is only through our effective game laws, passed during the winter of 1901, that we have these birds to any extent. Prior to that time they were being slaughtered by the market hunters from everywhere and shipped to the market. We were able to convince the Legis- lature of 1901, that there had been shipped out of this State 235,000 of these birds during the year 1900. We have had this shipping stopped, and, as a result, PINNATED GROUSE 245 ranchmen and farmers throughout the State report birds more plentiful than at any time during the past fifteen years. “Tf we take care of these birds, we will have them for a great many years to come, as we have bound- less acres of territory which will never be cultivated, and which afford splendid breeding grounds for them.” Missouri is a State where in the past there have been many pinnated grouse, and from this State also we have a good report as to an abundant stock of birds which might easily be increased by proper care. State Game Warden J. H. Rodes’ account of things will be read with interest: “In twenty-five, if not more, of the 114 counties in this State, we have prairie chickens remaining in greater or less quantities. Originally, as you know, throughout the prairie districts of this State, these birds abounded in very liberal supply, but having had absolutely no protection up to and prior to the enact- ment of the present game and fish laws, which went into effect on June 15, 1905, they were industriously hunted almost to the point of extermination, and were wholly killed off in many counties where they had formerly been found abundant. “It was a common practice—notwithstanding we had a statute prohibiting it—to begin shooting these birds after July 1, clear on and through the hunting season, when and wherever they could be found. Now that they are protected during the entire year, except from November 15 to December 15, we hope they will 246 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING multiply and re-establish themselves in considerable number. To illustrate: This county, Pettis County, which is little larger, perhaps, than the average size county and fairly densely populated—Sedalia alone, the county seat, having a population of something over 15,000 inhabitants, and many more average-sized towns—has yet remaining in it, I would say, five or six hundred birds. “Of course, it is difficult to estimate even approxi- mately the number of birds remaining, yet it is no un- common sight to see flocks of ten to twenty-five of these birds in the larger pastures and cornfields. A very reliable person told me the other day that he saw in the western part of our county a drove of about forty birds. Doubtless this was an accumulation of several flocks that were feeding together. “While, as stated, this county is thickly populated, there yet remain many large pastures on which the virgin sod has never been broken, being used as pasture lands, and perhaps some as large as a thousand acres or more. They breed in these pastures and meadows and feed in adjacent oat and corn fields during the sum- mer season. They were seen in unusually large num- bers this winter, which I can but attribute to the fact that special effort was made to protect these birds dur- ing their breeding season last year. “We were fortunate enough to secure one or two early convictions for hunting them out of season, and the gunners took alarm and very few were killed. What is true in this county, is true in many other coun- PINNATED GROUSE 247 ties where like conditions exist. We intend to make these birds the object of special care and supervision in the hope that they may multiply and yet be seen in large quantities in this State. They should be pro- tected during every month of the year for a period of five or six years, but the truth is that very few of the birds can be killed during the thirty days of the open season, as they are then full grown and are very strong, and will not lie before a dog and are very shy.” Kansas is another State where the prairie grouse was formerly abundant, but here the pinnated grouse is always the common bird, and the sharp-tail the ex- ception. Mr. D. W. Travis, State fish and game war- den, gave in brief but very telling form the history of the wholesale destruction and rapid decrease of prairie chickens until about ten years ago, and then of the change of sentiment and an increase of the birds during the year 1905. Mr. Travis says: “Up to the year 1885 pinnated grouse were very plentiful in Kansas and especially so in the western part. From that time they decreased very rapidly, until about 1900. Between those dates a grouse was seldom seen in the eastern half of the State, and but very few in the western half. The decrease was caused by the late burning of the prairies all over the western half of the State. Settlers were filling this section rap- idly, and it seemed to be the general opinion that all dead grass should be burned, which destroyed all food and insects, starving the birds out and leaving no nest- 248 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ing grounds. Again, meat was scarce and high, and the settlers killed grouse the year round in order to supply their tables, and also killed thousands and sent them to eastern markets. This, with the hundreds of eastern market hunters, caused the almost complete ex- termination of the grouse in Kansas. “About 1900, the people began to realize that the grouse were nearly exterminated, and a crusade for their protection started. Stringent laws were passed in 1903, and still more severe ones in 1905, and I am pleased to state that in the fall of 1905 in a number of the central counties the birds have increased to num- bers beyond expectations, and to-day the grouse can be found in many of the eastern counties. With proper protection, pinnated grouse will be abundant in all parts of the State within five years. The day of the game butcher, the pot and market hunter is past.” Texas is now and always has been a State where pinnated grouse were abundant, and it is so large that there are still great numbers of birds there: The growth of the game protective sentiment, which has been so marked within the last year or two, promises to protect these birds. ; There are other States, as Michigan and Wisconsin, that have a few pinnated grouse, and the bird occurs rarely in the Province of Ontario. Prof. Walter B. Barrows, of the Michigan Agri- cultural College, whose writings on ornithological top- ics are familiar to many of our readers, says: “This bird was formerly fairly common over the PINNATED GROUSE 249 southern half of the Lower Peninsula, and up to twenty years ago was abundant in many places in the prairie regions of the three southernmost tiers of counties. Even ten years ago it was not uncommon in this county (Ingham), and undoubtedly a few still exist here. I am not able to say positively where it is most abun- dant now, but my latest reports, some two and three years ago, indicated that there were still a good many in Calhoun, Kalamazoo and Van Buren counties, and it is fair to presume that they were locally common in the three counties south of those and bordering Indiana. “There are vague Michigan accounts of the presence of this species along the Lake Michigan shore as far north as Traverse City, fifty years ago, but I have no reason to believe that the species has ever been common north of the Saginaw Grand Valley in about latitude 434°. The sharp-tailed grouse may at one time have existed in the upper part of the Lower Peninsula and in parts of the Upper Peninsula, but at present it is not known to occur except in Isle Royale in Lake Superior, where there appears to be a flourishing colony, but as yet I have been unable to obtain specimens so as to determine positively the sub-species.” It would seem perfectly practicable to reintroduce this bird in eastern localities where once it was abun- dant, but this of course could be done only in situations where the bird would be sure to be protected; in other words, in large preserves. It is conceivable that the birds might live and do well on some of the large 250 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING estates of Long Island, and even on the Shinnecock Hills, but it is hardly to be hoped that they could ever be brought back as a game bird. They would have to be regarded as merely beautiful natural objects. SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. Pediecetes phasianellus. Pediccetes phasianellus columbianus. Pediecetes phasianellus campestris. The sharp-tailed grouse, while about the same size as the pinnated grouse, is a somewhat plumper and stouter bird, and, from the fact that its tail is smaller, does not seem so large. The tail of the sharp-tail is graduated, the middle pair of feathers projecting much beyond the rest; it has no tufts of feathers on the side of the neck. It has a high crest, is brownish or rusty above, varied with spottings and barrings of black and darker brown. Large round white spots mark the wing coverts, and the scapulars are somewhat streaked with white, while the outer webs of the quills of the wing are spotted with white. The lower parts are for the most part white, varied with V-shaped marks of dusky on front and sides of breast. The female is similar, but a little smaller. The differences between the three forms consist chiefly in the shades of colors. The northern sharp-tailed grouse (Pediacetes pha- stanellus—Linn.) is very dark-colored, with the dark markings on the upper parts very heavy, while the white marks on the wings show out strongly against this dark color. The feathering on the legs is dark 251 252 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING brownish gray. In length it varies from about 19 inches for the largest males to about 15 inches for the smallest females, and the wing measures from 8 to 84 inches. Most of the tail feathers are extremely stiff, pointed and white-edged. This northern bird is found in central Alaska, and { in the interior of British Provinces, north as far as Great Slave Lake, south as far as Moose Factory, Lake Winnipeg, Temiscaming, the northern shore of Lake Superior and the east side of James’ Bay, in Labrador. It is never seen in the United States. The western sharp-tailed grouse, or Columbian 1/3 SHARPTAILED GROUSE ) SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 253 sharp-tailed grouse (P. p. colwmbianus) is very much paler in color, being grayish or clay color and marked with black, but with the black marks less sharp and strong. It is found in central British Columbia and central Alberta, south in the western United States as far as northern California, Nevada and Utah, east to the border of the plains in Colorado. Its range is chiefly west of the Rocky Mountains. It is slightly smaller than the northern form. The more familiar sharp-tail of the Middle West (P. p. campestris) is abundant on the plains from southern Manitoba and southern Alberta, south through the United States to Wyoming and Kansas, east as far as Wisconsin and Illinois, and west to eastern Colo- rado. It is bright rusty in color and its dark mark- ings are much less conspicuous than in the northern form. The sharp-tailed grouse, which of late years has come to be known over much of the West as prairie chicken, is thus—in one or other of its three forms— a bird of wide distribution. It is found from Kansas, on the south, to central Alaska on the north, and from British Columbia, California and Nevada, on the west, to James’ Bay on the east. It occurs, as said, sparsely south of the Great Lakes, but in the United States— except in this locality—its range is chiefly west of the Mississippi River. While during the greater part of the year it seems to be a bird of the prairie, it is yet often found high up in little mountain valleys, and often in a country that is completely wooded. ' 254 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Like many others of our best game birds, the sharp- tailed grouse has been so unremittingly pursued that it is rapidly becoming more and more scarce, and promises before long, in all regions where it is pursued with dog and gun, to become as rare as its relative, the pinnated grouse. In habits the birds are all closely alike, except that we may assume that the northern form has modified its habits in accordance with its environment. Mr. Roderick MacFarlane found this species breeding in 1884 near Fort Providence. The two last-named forms of the sharp-tailed grouse—which is also called white belly, speckle belly, willow grouse and pin tail—are common all through the northwestern United States. They are birds of the open land, yet at certain seasons of the year resort commonly to willows or brushy ravines, from which sometimes they get up in a thick flock, like a brood of gigantic quail. E. E. Thompson, writing of the prairie sharp- tailed grouse in Manitoba, describes its prenuptial dancing in the following language: ‘After the dis- appearance of the snow, and the coming of warmer weather, the chickens meet every morning at gray dawn in companies of from six to twenty on some selected hillock or knoll, and indulge in what is called ‘the dance.’ This performance I have often watched. It presents the most amusing spectacle I have yet wit- nessed in bird life. At first, the birds may be seen standing about in ordinary attitudes, when suddenly one of them lowers its head, spreads out its wings SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 255 nearly horizontally and its tail perpendicularly, distends its air-sacs and erects its feathers, then rushes across the ‘floor,’ taking the shortest of steps, but stamping its feet so hard and rapidly that the sound is like that of a kettle drum; at the same time it utters a sort of bub- ling crow, which seems to come from the air-sacs, beats the air with its wings, and vibrates its tail, so that it produces a low, rustling noise, and thus con- trives at once to make as extraordinary a spectacle of itself and as much noise as possible. “As soon as one commences all join in, rattling, stamping, drumming, crowing and dancing together furiously ; louder and louder the noise, faster and faster the dance becomes, until at last, as they madly whirl about, the birds are leaping over each other in their excitement. After a brief spell the energy of the dancers begins to abate, and shortly afterward they cease and stand or move about very quietly, until they are again started by one of their number ‘leading off.’ “The whole performance reminds one so strongly of a Cree dance as to suggest the possibility of its being the prototype of the Indian exercise. The space occupied by the dancers is from 50 to 100 feet across. ... The dancing is indulged in at any time of the morning or evening in May, but it is usually at its height before sunrise. Its erotic character can hardly be questioned, but I cannot fix its place or value in the nuptial ceremonies. The fact that I have several times noticed the birds join for a brief set-to, in the late fall, merely emphasizes its parallelism to the drumming 256 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING and strutting of the partridge, as well as the singing of small birds.” I have several times witnessed this dancing in No- vember, just about the time that cold weather sets in, and have seen it carried on for two hours, immediately after sunrise, but have never been so fortunate as to get close enough to the birds to hear their stamping sound like a kettle drum. In the dances I have witnessed, there was heard not only the crowing, of which Mr. Thompson speaks, but also a sharp, high-pitched cackle, each note being separated from the other by a percep- tible interval. Some years ago I sent Major Bendire some notes on this species, which I quote here: “This species is partly migratory, and there is the very greatest dif- ference in the habits of the birds in summer and winter. As soon as the first hard frosts come in the autumn, the birds seem to take to the timber and begin to feed on the buds of the willow and the quaking aspen. At this time they spend a large portion of their time in the trees, and are very wild. In the Shirley Basin, in western Wyoming, a locality where I have never seen any of these birds in summer, they are abundant in winter. At this season they live in quaking aspen thickets, along the mountains, and there I have seen hundreds of them roosting on top of a big barn, which stands just at the edge of a grove of quaking aspen timber. It was always easy in the morning, just after sunrise, to step out of the house, and with a .22 caliber ‘aje]q suoqnpny wor *asnoig payreydieys SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 257 rifle shoot off the heads of as many of these birds as were needed for eating for the next two or three days. “T have only one note on these birds which seems particularly worth mentioning, and of this I spoke in my report to Colonel William Ludlow, on the birds noticed during a reconnaissance to the Black Hills of Dakota in 1874, which was published by the Engineer Bureau of the War Department. The sharp-tailed grouse has a cry which is unlike that of any other grouse with which I am familiar, although something very similar has been observed in the case, I think, of one of the ptarmigans. On the plains of Dakota in 1874, having scattered a brood of sharp-tailed grouse, consisting of a mother and a dozen well-grown young, I sat down to wait for them to get together. The mother had flown to the top of a hill not far off, where she sat on the ground in plain sight, and after a few moments began to call to the young, which immediately answered her from the different points where they had taken refuge. The call of the mother and the young was a guttural, raucous croak, which quite closely re- sembled the croaking of a raven at a little distance. I plainly saw the old bird utter its note, and subse- quently followed up the calls uttered by more than one of the young ones, until I started them, and killed one or two as they flew.” In winter the food of the sharp-tailed grouse consists largely of rose-berries and the buds of willows, cotton- woods and aspens. In summer and autumn, grass- hoppers, insects and various. berries, together with 258 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING grass and the leaves of various plants, form their chief food. I have seen them feeding by hundreds in the alfalfa patches of the ranchmen, and have found their crops and throats stuffed with the green leaves, together with a few of the seeds. Almost everything in the nature of berries, insects, seeds and green leaves is devoured by this bird. In the winter and autumn, the sharp-tailed grouse inhabiting a prairie country, spend most of their time in the river bottoms, among or close to the willow and cottonwood trees, on the buds of which they feed at this season, and it is not uncommon to see large flocks of them roosting among the branches of these trees in the early morning, apparently too much chilled to notice the approach of man. Mr. E. E. Thompson, in his “Birds of Manitoba,” describes in some detail the habits of the sharp-tailed grouse in winter. He says that it spends the winter nights in the snow, which is always soft and penetrable in the woods, though out on the plains it is beaten into drifts of ice-like hardness. “As the winter wanes, it is not uncommon for a snow storm to be accompanied by sleet. The storm always drives the chickens into the drifts, and afterward levels the holes they formed in entering. The freezing of the sleet then forms a crust, which resists all attempts at escape on the part of the birds, many of which, accord- ing to the account of hunters, are starved and thus perish miserably. I met with a single instance of this myself. SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 259 “Before the winter is over many of the birds, by con- tinuously pulling off frozen browse, have so worn their bills that when closed there is a large opening right through, immediately behind the hook. Early in April the few that have survived the rigors and perils of their winter life spread over the prairie once more and soon scatter to enter on their duties of reproduction.” No one has written about this bird more charmingly than Dr. Elliott Coues, whose article on the prairie form is well worth quoting. He first heard the call of the sharp-tailed grouse in North Dakota, when he was alone in camp, not far from Fort Randall—at the time his home—where he had gone to shoot water fowl. He says: “Awakened before it was light by the sonorous cries of the wild fowl making for the reedy lake where I had encamped, I arose—there was no need to dress—pushed off into the expanse of reeds in a light canoe I had brought with me, and with my gun across my knees sat quietly waiting for light to come. The sense of loneliness was oppressive in the stillness that preceded morning, broken only by the quack or plash of the wild duck, and the distant honking of a train of wild geese winnowing their sinuous way afar. I felt desolate— almost lost—and thought how utterly insignificant man is in comparison with his self-assertion. The grand bluffs of the Missouri, rising past each other intermina- bly, were before me in shadowy outline, that seemed to change and threaten to roll upon me; all around stretched the waste of reeds, secret, treacherous, limit- 260 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING less—unmoved, yet whispering to the water about their roots with a strange trickling. But the light came on; the distant hills took shape and settled in firm gray out- line against the sky, and a breath of fresher, purer air, messenger of morning, passed over the lake, dispelling the vapors that hung reluctant, and causing the reeds to sway in graceful salute to the coming sun. A sparrow chirped from her perch with joy; a field lark rose from her bed in the grass, tuning her limpid pipe to a song of gladness; and the wild fowl plashed about right heartily, when the highest hilltop was touched with gold, and another and another, till the scene was il- lumined to the very bosom of the lake. The feathered orchestra sounds never so impressive as when it ushers in the day; never so fine and complete as when familiar voices sing the higher notes to the strange deep bass of the grouse; heard for the first time, as it was on this occasion, the effect is indescribable. No one could say whence the sound proceeded, nor how many birds, if more than one, produced it; the hollow reverberations filled the air, more like the lessening echoes of some great instrument far away, than the voice of a bird at hand. JI listened to this grand concert, absorbed in the reflections it stirred within me, no longer alone, but in company I love, till the booming fell less fre- quently upon my ear, and then ceased—it was broad day; the various birds were about their homely avoca- tions, and I must betake myself to practical concerns. “Thus, in no faltering accents of timid expectancy, but in the bold tone of assured success, the grouse SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 261 calls upon his intended mate to forget the shyness that will no longer serve their purpose; nor does the invi- tation lack defiance to a rival who may presume to dis- pute his ‘rights. At the rallying cry the birds assemble, in numbers of both sexes, at some favorable spot, and a singular scene ensues as the courtship progresses. There is a regular ‘walk-around,’ as ludicrous, to the disinterested observer, as some of the performances on the comic stage. The birds run about in a circle, some to the right, others to the left, crossing each other’s path, passing and repassing in stilted attitudes, stop- ping to bow and squat in extravagant postures, and resuming their course, till one would think their heads as well as their hearts were lost. But this is simply their way, and they amuse themselves in such fashion till the affair is settled. The cocks have bristled and swelled, strutted and fought, till some have proven their claims to first choice, and others have concluded to take what they can get. Their subsequent history, I am sorry to state, is neither particularly creditable to themselves nor of absorbing interest to us. Leaving them to go about their business in their usual humdrum way, let us look to what now occupies their mates. “A nest will soon be required for her eggs, and the hen has to select suitable premises, though, being an architect of only the humblest order, she has little build- ing work to do; and, moreover, not being fastidious, her choice is made without difficulty. I have found the nests in such various locations that I can hardly determine what her preference is, if, indeed, she have 262 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING any. I suppose the site depends much upon circum- stances. She will enter a tract overgrown with the low, scrubby willow bushes, so abundant in our higher latitudes, and settle beneath one of these; she will ram- ble along the edge of a wooded stream and hide in a patch of tall weeds; she will stroll out on the bound- less, bare prairie, and take a tuft of grass at random. But wherever she makes down her bed she is solicitous to conceal it, not only from the rude glances of men, but from the equally cruel eye of her many four-footed enemies. Her method of concealment is most artful— perfected by its witlessness. With admirable instinct, she will avoid a place that offers such chances of con- cealment as to invite curious search; her willow bush is the duplicate of a thousand others at hand; her tuft of grass on the prairie is the counterpart of a million others around; her nest will be found by accident oftener than by design. And when, stooping over a warm nest on the prairie, whence she has just fluttered in dismay, we note how exposed it seems, now that it is found, we wonder how the dozen blades of grass that overarch the eggs, or the rank weed that shadows them, could have hidden the home so effectually that we nearly trod upon the bird before we saw her. She is now but a few yards off, in plain view, amid the scrubby prairie herbage, perhaps squatting, but more likely mov- ing away with a swaying motion of the head at each step. We will not combine murder with the robbery we are about to commit, and let us hope she will be consoled in time. Lifting up the eggs carefully, one by SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 263 one, we find the nest to be merely a few spears of grass, pressed down and somewhat circularly arranged with, in all probability, a few feathers that appear to have rather been mechanically detached from the mother bird than laid down by design. If the place is near our northern border, and early in June, we shall probably find the eggs quite fresh; but by the third week of that month they will be about hatching. At this period, should we, for any sufficient reason, destroy the setting bird, we should find her in sad plight—her plumage, harsh and worn, entirely gone from a large space on her belly; her flesh thin and flabby, and her crop con- taining only a few buds of some weed that grows close by her nest, with some grasshoppers or other insects. “No bird is a more faithful mother than this grouse; no one clings to her eggs more steadfastly, or guards her young with more sedulous care. In proof of how close she will set while incubating, let me mention two instances that came under my observation. One poor bird was actually trodden upon and killed, and some of her eggs smashed. On another occasion, I drove a large four-mule ambulance over a nest; the animals shied as they stepped over it, when the bird fluttered out from between their legs. Stopping instantly, I discovered the nest just between the hinder wheels. The grouse lies hard and close, never relinquishing hope of escaping observation until the last moment. “The young, as usual among gallinaceous birds, run about almost as soon as they are hatched, and it is in- 264 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING teresting to witness the watchful solicitude with which they are cherished by the parent when she first leads them from the nest in quest of food, glancing in every direction, in her intense anxiety, lest harm befall them. She clucks matronly to bring them to brood under her wings, or to call them together to scramble for a choice morsel of food she has found. Should danger threaten, a different note alarms them; they scatter in every di- rection, running, like little mice, through the grass till each finds a hiding place; meanwhile, she exposes her- self to attract attention, till, satisfied of the safety of the brood, she whirrs away and awaits the time when she may reassemble her family. In the region where I observed the birds in June and July, they almost in- variably betook themselves to the dense, resistant un- derbrush, which extends for some distance out- ward from the wooded streams, seeking safety in this all but impenetrable cover, where it was nearly impossi- ble to catch the young ones, or even to see them, until they began to top the bushes in their early short flights. The wing and tail feathers sprout in a few days, and are quite well grown before feathers appear among the down of the body. The first coveys seen able to rise on wing were noticed early in July; but by the middle of this month most of them fly smartly for short distances, being about as large as quails. Others, how- ever, may be observed through August, little, if any, larger than this, showing a wide range of time of hatching, though scarcely warranting the inference of two broods in a season. SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 265 “Returning to the newly hatched chicks, we will note their characteristics as they progress toward maturity. The down in which they are clothed when hatched is rather dingy yellow, mottled on the crown, back and wings with warm brown and black; it extends to the toes, but leaves a bare strip along the hind edge of the tarsus; the bill and feet are light brown. They are about as large as bantam chickens of the same age, and very pretty little things, indeed. They are very quick in their movements, scrambling to squat and hide on the least alarm, even at this early age... . “Throughout the region of the Red, Pembina and Souris or Mouse rivers, where I observed the birds during the summer, I found them mostly in the under- brush along the streams, which they seemed to seek instinctively as affording the best shelter and protec- tion, as well as plenty of food. Where they were most abundant I frequently observed the ‘scratching holes’ in the bare earth among the bushes, where they resorted to dust themselves, and, most probably, in the instances of ungrown coveys, to roost. Late in the summer and in September, those who cared to shoot the tender young found them to lie well to a dog; in fact, to lie so close that they were flushed with difficulty with- out one. No game birds could be tamer or more readily destroyed. Except when temporarily scattered by molestation, the coveys kept close together, and only occasionally left the covert to stray on the adjoin- ing prairie. They appeared to be feeding chiefly on wild-rose seeds, and those of another kind of plant 266 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING equally abundant along the river bottoms. The ma- jority of these birds were ungrown up to September, and scarcely any had at that date begun to assume their new plumage. Up to this time I do not recollect that I ever saw one alight in a tree; and they were still, for the most part, under charge of the parent, as separate families, rather than as the indiscriminate packs in which they afterward associate. With the advance of the month these family associations seemed to break up, the change of plumage was finished, the birds grew strong of wing, and able in all respects to look after themselves. No longer solicitous of shelter, they haunted the innumerable ravines that make down to the streams, and strolled in company far out on the prairie. In this region, at least, they showed little wariness all through the month. I could generally walk up to a covey in fair view on the bare prairie, even to within a few feet, before they would fly, and they seldom went far before realighting. Their appearance when not obscured by the herbage is characteristically peculiar. They seem to stand remarkably high on their legs, and generally carry their short, pointed tail some- what elevated; the singularity is increased when the long neck is outstretched, as it generally is when they are on the lookout. On alighting after being flushed, if not much alarmed, they often stand motionless at full height, but if badly scared, squat closely, and are then difficult to find if not exactly marked down. If without a dog, one may pass and repass among them without finding one, unless he happen to stumble on SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 267 them; and often, going away after such want of suc- cess, one may look back to find the heads of the whole lot raised above the grass, intently regarding his re- treat. It is astonishing how closely they can squat— even laying the head flat upon the ground, and appear- ing scarcely half their natural size. At this season their food appears to be chiefly grasshoppers. I have opened numbers to find their crops crammed with these insects, only varied with a few flowers, weed-tops, succulent leaves, and an occasional beetle or spider. “By the first of October the sharp-tailed grouse have mostly finished the renewal of their plumage, are all full grown and strong of wing; their habits are con- siderably modified. They grow wary and watchful, flushing often at long distances to fly clear ont of sight, and running far on the ground. They also be- gin to alight on trees, a habit, however, not confirmed until somewhat later, when, with the advance of cold weather and the failure of former supplies of food, they assume the routine of their winter life. The close coveys of the earlier season are for the most part broken up, and the birds wander often alone in search of food. They haunt the interminable ravines along the Mis- souri, making away from the river bottoms in search of food, but mostly returning at evening to roost in the trees. Early in the morning they may be seen leaving their perches in straggling troops, flying high and swiftly to other feeding grounds; and again in the evening, if one loiter beneath the immense cotton- woods, where, during the day, scarcely a chicken was 268 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING to be seen, he will observe their return, till the trees are almost covered, and the air resounds with the hoarse kuk-kuk-k-k-k. Frequently, in very cold and especially in falling weather, the grouse will not leave their perches during the day, but may be seen at any hour roosting quietly in the tops of the tallest cotton- woods. They are decidedly not graceful objects under these circumstances. They look very large, sharply defined among the bare straggling branches against the gray sky, and assume ungainly attitudes, particu- larly when standing erect on their long legs, with out- stretched necks and upturned tails. Their behavior under these circumstances varies in a manner to me inexplicable. Sometimes a group thus scattered among the treetops will permit the closest approach desired, and more than one may be brought down before the rest are off in alarm; not seldom one may fire twice or thrice at the same bird without dislodging it, or kill several without stirring from his tracks. But ordi- narily the chickens’ wits serve them to better purpose than this. As we approach, when just beyond range, the crackling of the underbrush attracts the attention of one of the birds, which before had been squatting ‘like a bump on a log’; he rises on his feet and twists his neck around to have a look. The rest follow his example. A moment more the warning kuk-kuk-k sounds, and the nearest bird leaves his perch—the cry is taken up by the rest, and the whole are off to settle again a few hundred yards away, and tempt renewed pursuit that is likely to end as unsuccessfully. From SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 269 the sportsman’s standpoint, the arrangement is wholly unsatisfactory when the birds behave so; nor when they are tame is it much more attractive; for, unless a supply of meat be the only point, dropping chickens from the trees is no more exciting than robbing a hen-roost. Killed under these circumstances, the food of the grouse is readily ascertained ; in the dead of winter it consists chiefly of the berries of the cedar, and buds of the pop- lar or cottonwood and willow, still closely sealed, await- ing the coming of spring. I have taken from one crop a double handful of such food, almost as dry as when swallowed. This diet does not improve the quality of the flesh; a chicken at this season is quite a different thing from one killed earlier in the season. The rating of the grouse as an article of food neces- sarily varies, not only with circumstances, but accord- ing to individual preferences. I, myself, do not esteem it very highly. A tender young grouse, early in the season, is not to be despised, but all such specially flavored meat is likely to soon become distasteful, espe- cially if, on one or two occasions, a person has been forced upon a surfeit of it. Confined to grouse for a few days, most persons, I should judge, would find relief in mess-pork. “The mode of flight of this species is not peculiar ; it rises with a startling whirr from the ground, till it attains a certain elevation—its straight, steady course, performed with great velocity by alternate sailing and flapping, are points it shares with its relatives. The wing-beats are rapid and energetic, giving it an im- 270 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING pulse that enables it to sail long distances, when the wings are held stiffly expanded to their full extent, somewhat decurved, and with the points of the quill feathers separated. The bird’s voice is highly char- acteristic. It is so almost invariably uttered during flight, at particular moments with reference to the de- livery of the wing strokes, that for some time after my first acquaintance with the birds I was in doubt whether the sound were mechanical or vocal; nor was the un- certainty removed until I had heard it from the birds at rest. The ordinary note of alarm is almost invaria- bly sounded just before the bird takes wing, whether from the ground or from a tree, and is usually repeated with each succeeding set of wing-beats, seeming to be jerked out of the bird by its muscular efforts. But we hear it also when, the bird being at rest, it becomes alarmed, yet not sufficiently to fly away; and when a bird is passing at full speed, sufficiently near, we may clearly distinguish the mechanical whirring sound of its wings, as well as, sometimes, the creaking rustle of its tail feathers as it turns its flight. When roosting at ease among the trees, and probably at other times, the grouse have a different set of notes—a sociable cackling or clucking, with which they entertain each other. “Tn conversation with Captain Hartley, of the Twenty-second Regiment, an accomplished sportsman, well acquainted with the ways of our game birds, I was informed of an interesting point of difference in the habits of this bird and the pinnated grouse. In SHARP-TAILED GROUSE 271 entering a cultivated field the latter goes on foot, and may consequently be readily trailed by a dog, while the sharp-tail flies in, and is only likely to be overhauled by the dog’s winding it, or coming accidentally upon it. The same gentleman has noted the preference of this species for the skirts of woods, brush and broken places generally, in contrast to the entirely open places which the pinnated grouse frequents.” The eggs of the sharp-tail, while often plain cream- colored, are at times greenish in color and are some- times marked with small spots of reddish brown and lavender. They do not appear to lay such large clutches as the pinnated grouse, though, after all, the difference in numbers is not marked. SAGE GROUSE. Centrocercus urophasianus. The sage grouse may always be recognized by its great size and by the fact that its tail is longer than the wings, and is graduated, with narrow pointed quills. The upper plumage is gray, variously marked and streaked with black. Some of the tertiary feathers are tipped with white or streaked with white; the chin, cheeks and throat are spotted black and white, but there is usually a distinct white streak on the side of the head running a short way back of the eye. The neck is black in front, while the fore breast is white or grayish, and on either side of the lower neck in the whitish areas are stiff, coarse hair-like feathers. The belly is black, and the lower tail coverts black tipped with white. The male is from 26 to 30 inches long, with a wing of from 12 to 13 inches, and a tail about the same length. The birds weigh from 4 to 8 pounds. The female is much smaller; has the chin and throat white and the black patch on the front of the neck speckled. Half-grown birds are browner than their parents, with a warmer tone of rufous in their plumage, more like the young of the dusky grouse. The length of the female is from 20% to 23 inches. Excepting the wild turkey, the sage hen, as it is often 272 SAGE GROUSE 273 called, is the largest North American gallinaceous bird. Full-grown males sometimes almost equal the female wild turkey in size, and have been reported to weigh about eight pounds. SAGE GROUSE The sage grouse is an inhabitant of the high, dry, artemisia or sage-brush covered plains of the Western States. It is found on the plains and flanks of the Rocky Mountains, in the great central plateau, in the northwest territories, and in parts of southern British 274 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Columbia. Its eastern range covers parts of North Dakota, and extends thence westward through Mon- tana, Wyoming and Utah to Oregon, California and Nevada. The sage grouse is interesting from the fact that it possesses a soft, membranous stomach; in this respect differing from other gallinaceous birds. Its food varies with the seasons, and no doubt in winter the leaves of the so-called sage brush make up the most of this. The sage grouse takes its name from this plant, on which, at certain seasons, it feeds extensively. Yet it eats other food, including grain. In Forest and Stream of August 29, 1889, Mr. George H. Wyman says: ‘The sage cock will eat the leaves from a sage bush when it cannot get berries or grain, but it will go farther for a morning’s feed from a wheat field than any bird I know, except the wild geese. I have killed sage fowls with stomachs filled with ripe wheat picked up the same morning in places where none was to be had nearer than eight miles, and in fact with no culti- vation of any kind nearer in any direction. They fly long distances in search of food, but return to roost in the same place at night, generally on some steep hillside, free from shrubs or high grass.” This may have been an error of observation. Very likely there was some unknown source of grain supply nearer at hand. But this, of course, cannot be proved. It is stated by some observers that sage leaves are resorted to only when other food is hard to obtain; but this is a mistake. The leaves and flowers of the sage have been found SAGE GROUSE 275 in the crops of adults and young during the season of greatest food supply. The leaves, blossoms and the pods of other plants, together with many seeds and grasshoppers and crickets, are said by Captain W. L. Carpenter to constitute a large part of this food. Mr. Robert W. Williams is quoted by Captain Bendire as having taken a bird, the crop of which was filled with the blossoms of a species of goldenrod (Solidago). In past years controversies as to the edibility of the flesh of the sage cock have often taken place, some writers holding that the flesh is so strongly flavored by the sage that it is unpleasant to the taste, while others maintained with equal earnestness that the flesh was delicate and without unpleasant flavor. Obviously, the flavor of the flesh of any bird depends in great measure on the food which it eats, and birds which stuff themselves with a particular sort of vegetation, whether it be buds of the birch, of the laurel, of the spruce or of the wormwood, if left undrawn for a time may taste of the plant on which they have been feeding. It is a safe plan to dress the sage grouse as soon as may be after it has been killed, but even if this is not done, young birds are not likely to have a strong taste, though old ones may. Like other prairie grouse, the sage cock goes through a courtship which is noteworthy. This is well de- scribed by Captain Bendire in his “Life Histories of North American Birds,” in which he says: “Early one morning, in the first week of March, 1877, I had the long-wished-for opportunity to observe 276 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the actions of a single cock while paying court to sev- eral females near him. ... His large, pale-yellow air-sacs were fully inflated, and not only expanded for- ward, but apparently upward as well, rising at least an inch aboye his head, which, consequently, was scarcely noticeable, giving the bird an exceedingly peculiar ap- pearance. He looked decidedly top-heavy and ready to topple over at the slightest provocation. The few long, spiny feathers along the edges of the air-sacs stood straight out, and the grayish white of the upper parts showed in strong contrast with the black of the breast. His tail was spread out fan-like, at right angles to the body, and was moved from side to side with a slow, quivering movement. The wings were trailing on the ground. While in this position he moved around with short, stately and hesitating steps, slowly and gingerly, evidently highly satisfied with his performance, utter- ing, at the same time, low, grunting, guttural sounds, somewhat similar to the purring of a cat when pleased, only louder. This was kept up for some ten minutes. After having regained his usual attitude it was hard to believe that this was the same bird I had seen but a few minutes before.” Mr. Frank Bond has described at some length a hitherto unnoticed act of the male sage grouse, which he witnessed in Wyoming. The bird, after inflating its air-sacs, bent forward until its breast touched the ground and pushed itself forward along the ground. This action, carried on for days, seems to explain the SAGE GROUSE 277 wearing away of the stiff feathers on the lower neck and upper breast so often noticed in this species. The nest of the sage grouse is usually placed at the foot of some sage bush, or sometimes at the foot of a bunch of rye grass, whose outer leaves, bending over, may conceal the nest. Commonly it contains from eight to eleven eggs, nearly as large as a hen’s egg, greenish white or brownish in color, more or less heavily spotted with round, but not large, dots of brown and blackish. The period of incubation is given as twenty-two days. There is little or no nest, and the eggs lie in a mere hollow scratched out in the bare ground. The sitting bird harmonizes so wonderfully with the ground on which she rests that one may pass within a foot or two without seeing her. Major Bendire quotes Captain William L. Car- penter, U. S. A., who says: “TI found a nest at Fort Bridger, Wyoming—where this species is numerous— June 1, with nine fresh eggs. I was standing alongside a sage bush watching butterflies, several times looking down carelessly without seeing anything unusual, when, happening again to glance at the foot of the bush in the very place before observed, I saw the wink- ing of aneye. Looking more intently, a grayish mass was discerned, blending perfectly with the color of the bush, which outlined itself into the form of a sage hen not 2 feet from my foot. She certainly would have been overlooked had not the movement of her eyelids attracted my attention. I stood there fully five minutes 278 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING admiring the beautiful bird, which could have been caught in my butterfly net, then walked back and forth and finally passed around the bush to observe it from behind. Not until then did it become frightened and fly away with a loud cackling. The nest was a depression at the foot of a sage bush, lined with dead grass and sage leaves. The spot was marked and visited several times, always passing within a few feet without alarming the bird.” While the mother bird is sitting, the males are scat- tered over the prairie, two or three often being found together, and when alarmed starting off with heavy, lumbering flight to fly half a mile or a mile. When hatched, the young leave the nest and follow the mother. When quite young they are as expert at hiding as are most of.the grouse at this age. They are active and hardy, and for the first few weeks of their life bear a certain resemblance to the young turkey, less perhaps in color than in length of neck and the active way in which they move about on their long legs. The mother is devoted, and Captain Bendire quotes Mr. Wm. G. Smith, who caught six young sage chickens one June in Carbon County, Wyoming, as saying: “The female flew at my legs and followed me 200 yards to where my wagon was standing, constantly making hostile demonstrations, while the young kept calling.” The young families roost on the ground, on the sides of shallow ravines or on the prairie above, and Sage Grouse. By permission of U. S. Biological Survey. SAGE GROUSE 279 the places where they have spent the night remind one much of the roosting place of a brood of quail. When full-feathered and half grown, they are very gentle and unsuspicious, and it used to be common to see a brood of them walk along feeding before a man who was following them up, trying to shoot their heads off with a rifle or a six-shooter. They paid no attention to the shots, but if one was wounded and fluttered about, all flew without delay. At this age they seem very social, constantly calling to each other with a high-pitched, peeping note, and if one wanders off from the flock or is left behind, he becomes very un- easy and runs hard in his efforts to overtake the family. When full grown, and at the approach of cold weather, the birds become more shy and fly more readily. On flying they give a hoarse cackle, somewhat like that of the sharp-tailed grouse, but deeper. The sage grouse always roosts on the ground, and I have never seen them in what could fairly be called a tree. Captain Bendire reports having seen them on the horizontal limb of the juniper, about two feet from the ground. A number of years ago, in response to an inquiry from him, I wrote Major Bendire as follows: “On a very few occasions I have seen the sage grouse standing on the branches of a sage bush, sometimes 2 or 3 feet from the ground, but I imagine this is quite an unusual position for the bird. This species commonly, I think, goes to water twice a day, flying down to the springs and creek bottoms to drink in the 280 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING evening, then feeding away a short distance, but roost- ing near at hand. In the morning they drink again and spend the middle of the day on the upland. The young birds, when feeding together, constantly call to one another with a low, peeping cry, which is audible only for a short distance. This habit I have noticed in several other species of our grouse, notably in the dusky grouse and sharp-tail. “In western Wyoming the sage grouse packs in Sep- tember and October. In October, 1886, when camped just below a high bluff on the border of Bates’ Hole in Wyoming, I saw great numbers of these birds just after sunrise, fying over my camp to the little spring which oozed out of the bluff, 200 yards away. Looking up from the tent at the edge of the bluff above us we could see projecting over it the heads of hundreds of the birds, and as those standing there took flight, others stepped forward to occupy their places. The number of grouse which flew over the camp reminded me of the old-time flights of passenger pigeons that I used to see when I was a boy. Before long the narrow valley where the water was, was a moving mass of gray. I have no means of estimating the number of birds which I saw, but there must have been thousands of them.” Although the sage hen is a large bird, rises slowly, and lumbers off with a good deal of noise, nevertheless, after they have attained their full growth, it is not always easy to hit these birds when in full flight, espe- cially if going with the wind. SAGE GROUSE 281 Except when in flight, the sage grouse is deliberate in its movements, and I have seldom seen a bird on foot that appeared to hurry. More often they walk delib- erately along, with heads stretched high, watching the intruder until the time comes for flight, when they spring from the ground with the cackling cry already mentioned and soon disappear over the next hill. The flight is often very much extended. The only occasion when I recall seeing a sage grouse run was once when a bird that I had started flew several hundred yards and alighted in plain sight on a hillside on the other side of a valley. A marsh hawk, which was hunting near where the grouse alighted, flew to it and several times stooped at it and appeared to reach for it with its feet. The grouse at once started and ran swiftly along the hillside until it reached some high sage brush, the hawk following and now and then making a clumsy dive at it. THE WILD TURKEY. Meleagris gallopavo. Meleagris gallopavo silvestris. Meleagris gallopavo osceola. Meleagris gallopavo intermedia. Meleagris gallopavo merriami. America has given to the world its largest game bird and perhaps most important domestic fowl—the turkey. It is purely American, and its ancestry goes back a long way, for it existed here in far-off Tertiary times, por- tions of the skeleton of a turkey having been found in the Miocene deposits of Colorado, and the bones of other species in the post-Pliocene of New Jersey. Of these last, one was about the size of the existing turkey, but taller, while another was much smaller. At this time, the mastodon lived along the Atlantic coast, while the far older turkeys of Colorado had as associates the huge Brontotherium and many other creatures long extinct. When the white men came to these shores they found turkeys in plenty. The flesh constituted a good share of the food of the natives, who wore cloaks or robes made of turkey feathers. Not very long after the discovery of the New World the bird was taken to 282 THE WILD TURKEY 283 Europe, and there received a variety of names in dif- ferent countries, most of which referred to India, carry- ing out the early idea that America was a part of the Indies. Thus the bird was called by the English “cock of India”; in French, poule d’Inde, contracted to dinde, WILD TURKEY hen of India; in Spanish, gallo or gallina de India, cock or hen of India; in German, Indianische Henne or Huhn, Indian hen, and also Calecutischer Hahn or Henne, cock or hen of Calcutta. It was also called by the Spaniards the Moorish hen, referring to a supposed 284 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING African origin, while in Egypt the Arabic name is Dik rum, fowl of Turkey. Precisely why it should have been called turkey by the English it is hard to say, except that as Turkey was a part of the Far East, it may have been supposed to have some relation to India. It has been suggested that the name by which we know the bird is a corrup- tion of a Hebrew word tukki, said to mean peacock, that this term was applied to the turkey, when it was received in Spain, by the Jews, who then monopolized the business of selling poultry, and that from this point of first introduction the name spread with the bird over a part of Europe. This bird, taken to Europe by the Spaniards soon after the conquest, was the Mexican turkey. The common wild turkey once found over most of eastern North America was for a long time the only form known in the United States, and this was thought to be the progenitor of all the domesticated races of turkeys. In 1856, however, the English naturalist, Gould, described the Mexican turkey as a distinct species, and much later other observers called attention to a turkey from Florida differing slightly from the ordinary wild turkey, and to yet another different one from the Rio Grande. Later still, E. W. Nelson found that the turkey of Arizona presented constant, if slight, differences from the wild turkey of the plains and that of Mexico, and described it as Merriam’s turkey. To the untrained eye the differences between certain ‘THE WILD TURKEY 285 of these subspecies are slight, and the sportsman will do well to try to learn the geographical ranges of the different forms, for in most cases the locality will be to him a better guide in identifying the bird he kills than will any color description. The Mexican turkey is markedly different from the bird of the East, and the two will readily be distinguished. The differences between the various turkeys are found chiefly in the coloring of the rectrices, or tail feathers, and of the tail coverts and the primaries. The original wild turkey—to which the name Melea- gris gallopavo was given—has been shown to be the bird later described by Gould as the Mexican wild turkey. It is notably different from the eastern form, for its tail, tail coverts and the feathers of the lower rump are tipped with white or whitish, while the eastern and northern turkey has those feathers tipped with deep rusty or even with rich dark chestnut. The ordinary domestic turkey shows the whitish tippings of the feathers of tail, tail coverts and lower rump— characters derived from its ancestor, the turkey of Mexico. The Mexican turkey occupies the wooded mountain slopes bordering the Mexican tablelands on the south and west, ranging north to Chihuahua, but it does not reach the United States. Mr. Nelson has shown where it grades into Merriam’s turkey on the north, while to the south in southeastern Mexico and Central America, it is replaced by a strikingly dis- tinct species, the brilliantly hued ocellated turkey. The eastern wild turkey, which was long considered 286 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the true Meleagris gallopavo, thus becomes a subspecies of the Mexican turkey and is now known as Meleagris gallopavo silvestris. It and the closely similar Florida race (osceola) have the ends of the upper tail coverts and tail feathers dark chestnut. The common northern wild turkey has the primaries, or stiff quill feathers of the wing white barred with black, while the Florida wild turkey has the primaries black, with small white bars, which are broken and usually do not reach the shafts of the feathers. These differences are constant, otherwise they would not be regarded as subspecific characters. Down in parts of southern Texas and northeastern Mexico is found another subspecies (intermedia) known as the Rio Grande turkey, or Elliott’s turkey. It looks much like the common wild turkey, but the rump feathers have a coppery bronze bar across them close to the ends, and are tipped with dark yellowish. The tail coverts are chestnut, with narrow black cross bars, and are broadly tipped with buff. The tail is mottled pale chestnut and black, has a black bar across it close to the end, and is tipped with yellowish buff. The difference in appearance between Elliott’s turkey and the common turkey is not easily expressed in words, but any one who has an opportunity to compare two specimens of the same age and sex will readily see that they are not exactly alike. Moreover, the female of the Rio Grande turkey has grayish tips to the feath- ers on the upper part of the body, and thus differs strikingly from any other species of turkey. THE WILD TURKEY 287 From the wild turkey of the East, Merriam’s turkey may be distinguished by the whitish tips of the feath- ers of the lower rump, tail coverts and tail. From the Mexican turkey it may be known by its velvety black rump and the greater amount of rusty rufous, succeed- ing white tips on the tail coverts and tail, and by the distinct black and chestnut barring of the middle tail feathers. Merriam’s turkey thus appears to be about mid- way between the eastern wild turkey and the wild tur- key of Mexico, and in fact the eastern wild turkey grades into Merriam’s turkey, as Merriam’s turkey grades into the Mexican turkey, whose white-tipped tail coverts and white-tipped tail, as seen in the do- mestic turkey, are so characteristic. So in North America we have five forms of turkey, the ranges of which are fairly well defined. The Florida wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo osceola), described by Scott about twenty years ago, is confined to Florida, but the precise limits of its range are not yet known. The type specimen came from Tarpon Springs, Fla. The Rio Grande turkey (Meleagris gallopavo inter- media) was described by the late George B. Sennett in 1892. It is a striking bird, found in the lowlands of southern Texas and also in northeastern Mexico, where it ranges from the coast lowlands up to over 3,000 feet in the adjacent mountains. Merriam’s turkey (Meleagris gallopavo merriamt) was described by E. W. Nelson in 1900. It ranges 288 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING from southern Colorado south through Arizona and New Mexico, and grades into the Mexican turkey on the south and into the eastern wild turkey on the east. On all streams flowing east from the Rocky Mountains over the great plains, from the Niobrara, which is near the northern boundary of Nebraska, south nearly to the Rio Grande, turkeys were formerly common, and these were the ordinary bird of the Mississippi Valley. They lived along these various rivers, many of which have their heads in the mountains, and following up these streams to the mountains, there intergrade with the mountain bird. E. W. Nelson has shown where this takes place. In these days, when the common wild turkey is ex- tinct over much of its former range, it is very difficult to define with exactness the former boundaries of that range. We know that it was abundant in southern New England and to the south. Audubon speaks of it rather vaguely as found in southern Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine, and it is certain that it was onée very abundant in Massachusetts, where many years ago I saw a skin taken at Mt. Tom about 1848 or 1849. Wm. Brewster, in his admirable volume on the “Birds of the Cambridge Region of Massachusetts,” published in 1906, as No. IV of the Memoirs of the Nuttall Ornithological Club, has gathered much inter- esting information concerning the turkey in eastern Massachusetts and in Maine. He says: “Morton, referring, no doubt, to his experience at “durpesy sfoxINY, PLM THE WILD TURKEY 289 ° Merrymount, now Wollaston, only a few miles south of the Cambridge region, where he lived from 1625 to 1628, and again in 1629 and 30, says: ‘Great flocks (of turkeys) have fallied by our doores;...I had a Salvage who hath taken out his boy in a morning, and they have brought home their loades about noone. I have asked them what number they found in the woods, who have answered, Neent Metawna, which is a tho- sand that day.’ Wood confirms this by stating that ‘sometimes there will be forty, three score, and an hun- dred of a flocke, sometimes more and sometimes lesse; their feeding is Acornes, Hawes and Berries, some of them get a haunt to frequent our English corne: In Winter when the Snow covers the ground they resort to the Seashore to looke for Shrimps and such small Fishes at low tides. Such as love Turkie hunting must follow it in Winter after a new falne Snow, when he may follow them by their tracts; some have killed ten or a dozen in halfe a day; if they can be found towards an evening and watched where they peirch, if one come about ten or eleaven of the clocke he may shoote as often as he will, they will sit unlesse they be slenderly wounded. These Turkie remaine al the yeare long, the price of a good Turkie cocke is foure shillings; and he is well worth it for he may be in weight 40 pound; a Hen two shillings.’ Josslyn mentions seeing, probably at Black Point (now Scarborough), Maine, ‘threescore broods of young Turkies on the side of a Marsh, sun- ning of themselves in a morning betimes, but this was thirty years since [in 1638 or 1639], the English and 290 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the Indian having now [1671] destroyed the breed, so that ’tis very rare to meet with a wild Turkie in the Woods.’ “That the species was formerly found throughout the Cambridge region, there can be no reasonable doubt. Turkey Hill in Arlington may well have de- rived its name from the presence there of this noble bird in early Colonial days. Indeed, Mr. Walter Faxon writes me that an acquaintance of his has seen ‘in a manuscript diary of the ancestor of an Arlington man ...an entry of killing some Wild Turkeys in the region about Turkey Hill.” At Concord, less than ten miles further inland, the species had not become wholly ex- tinct at the beginning of the past century. The late Steadman Buttrick of that town, a keen lover of field sports and a man of undoubted veracity, who died in 1874, used to delight in narrating how, when a boy, he had made repeated but invariably fruitless expedi- tions in pursuit of the last wild turkey that is known to have lingered in the region about his home. He often saw the bird, a fine old gobbler, but it was so very wary that neither he nor any of the other Concord gunners of that day ever succeeded in getting a fair shot at it. It was in the habit of roosting in some tall pines on Ball’s Hill, whence, when disturbed, it usually flew for refuge into an extensive wooded swamp on the opposite (Bedford) side of Concord River. Mr. Buttrick was born in 1796. As he was presumably at least twelve or fifteen years of age before he began to use a gun effectively, it is probable that his experience THE WILD TURKEY 2g1 with the wild turkey happened some time between 1808 and 1815.” The turkey was abundant in the southwestern por- tions of the province of Ontario and occurred through much of New York, in Pennsylvania and Ohio, from which last State it has been exterminated in compara- tively recent years. It is said that a few turkeys still linger in Pennsylvania. Michigan, Wisconsin, south- ern Minnesota and Iowa all once had turkeys enough. They were abundant in Nebraska, reaching beyond the northern boundary of the State, for Captain W. L. Carpenter found turkeys on the Niobrara River, and Dr. Coues speaks of good evidence of their occurrence as far north as Yankton on the Missouri—about the same latitude as the mouth of the Niobrara. It is well understood that the turkey was fairly abundant on many streams flowing into the Missouri or its tribu- taries south of the Platte River, and undoubtedly they worked up many of these streams into the mountains. Indians in whom I have confidence have told me of killing turkeys on tributaries of the South Platte in the mountains west of where Denver now stands. From that point south Merriam’s turkey was undoubtedly abundant in the mountains. The turkey found on the plains to the south of the Platte, westward until the mountains are reached, is presumably the eastern form (Meleagris gallopavo silvestris). Captain L. H. North, who as a little boy moved with his family into Nebraska in the year 1856, says of the 292 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING streams in eastern central Nebraska forty or fifty years ago: “There were a good many wild turkeys here on the Loup River, the Elkhorn and Shell Creek when we came here. Ed. Chambers tells me they were often seen on the Niobrara River in early days—say in 1877. I do not recall that any turkeys were seen when the Pawnee scouts were out in 1867, guarding the track layers on the plains toward the mountains, but at that time turkeys were found on the Platte River near old Ft. McPherson—not far below the forks of the Platte.” In August, 1909, Forest and Stream printed a letter from me inquiring as to the western range of the wild turkey. This inquiry brought out some extremely in- teresting information which indicates that the former range of the turkey extended regularly to South Dakota. In my letter I asked what the northern and western range of the turkey was, and whether any of Forest and Stream’s correspondents had ever known of its being found in the Black Hills. In response to this Sandy Griswold, of Omaha, Neb., sent to Forest and Stream a letter, from which I quote the essential para- graphs: “The query whether wild turkeys ever got as far West as the Black Hills I am unable to answer; I do know, however, that no longer ago than 1894 they had found their way as far as the foothills this side of the Black Hills in South Dakota. “T was camped on the Lake Creek marshes that fall, duck shooting, and on the third of November Alfred THE WILD TURKEY 293 Reshaw, a young halfbreed Sioux, who was one of our camp helpers and guides, killed a twenty-one-pound black and tan turkey in the scraggy pine hills along White River, twenty miles north of our camp and forty- five or fifty miles this side of the Black Hills. He killed the bird flying, from out of a bunch of five which he had jumped from a patch of ground cherries on one of the bluffs. He knew what the birds were, as he and his brother had killed several the previous winter in the same vicinity. “Two days later Alfred, the late George W. Scrib- ner, of San Francisco, and I went to White River, where the Sioux had killed his gobbler, and although we hunted assiduously for hours up and down on both sides of the river, we found no turkey. We did find plenty of sign, however, in almost every rose thicket and among the dried ground cherries from which Alfred had flushed his birds. We found fresh tracks and fresh droppings, showing that the birds had been there after the day the Sioux made his kill. “Along the White River in this particular region are extensive fastnesses well adapted to the fancy of wild turkeys, low scraggy acorn-bearing oaks, deep arroyos, with numerous springs, thickets of plum, crab and grape, rose fields, ground and choke cherry patches and many vegetable growths on which the birds feed in the fall and summer.” The Reshaws (Richard) are a well-known family of Sioux mixed bloods, descendants of one or more French 294 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Creoles who served the American Fur Company about 1850 or earlier, and who married Sioux women. Through the kindness of Colonel Hugh L. Scott, superintendent of the U. S. Military Academy, I am enabled to give the most northerly definite record of the wild turkey on the Missouri River of which I have any knowledge. Colonel Scott, learning of my interest in this subject, recalled that more than twenty years ago General D. L. Magruder, U. S. A. (retired), had told him of killing wild turkeys near Fort Ran- dall, Dakota, in 1855. He therefore wrote to General Magruder and received from him a letter dated Sep- tember 6, 1909, as follows: “From July, 1855, to October, 1860, I was stationed at the different garrisons along that stream [the upper Missouri River] from old Fort Pierre Chouteau to Fort Randall. “On December 17, 1855, I accompanied General Harney upon a hard winter’s march, from Fort Pierre Chouteau to the mouth of the Niobrara River. The march was by land as far as the present site of Fort Randall, where we were compelled by heavy snowdrifts in the ravines to abandon the prairie and take to the ice upon the river, where the march was continued, both going and returning, until our arrival back at Fort Pierre, February 17, 1856. “During the trip, both going and returning, I killed deer, rabbits, grouse and turkeys to supply our mess, finding each of the kinds of game in plenty and quite fat in most of the heavily timbered points along both THE WILD TURKEY 295 sides of the river. The turkeys were particularly fine- flavored, their food being abundant, consisting mostly of wild grapes, rose apples (the seed pod of the wild rose), cottonwood buds and hackberries, the latter ap- parently their favorite, at least to judge by the quantity contained in their crops. “The last turkey killed by me was at a return camp about thirty miles above Fort Randall. Beyond that point I have no personal experience, but while stationed at Fort Pierre I was told by the interpreter of the fort that turkeys formerly were quite abundant in the heavy timber about the mouth of the Big Cheyenne River about thirty miles above.” The statement made by the interpreter at Fort Pierre furnishes quite satisfactory evidence that turkeys were once found on the Missouri River as far north as the mouth of the Cheyenne River. Colonel Scott has also called my attention to the diary of Lieut. Rufus Saxton, printed in Vol. I, Pacific R. R. Reports, 1853-4, which says of Cedar Island, on the Missouri River, below Ft. Pierre: “Saw wild turkeys for the first time. They are seldom seen above this point, and have never, I believe, been found beyond the Rocky Mountains.” The reference, of course, is to the northern Rocky Mountains. Alexander Henry, the Younger, states that in 1806 the Cheyenne Indians coming up from the south brought with them the tails of turkeys which the Man- dans and Minitari greatly desired for use as fans and for which they traded, and from this we may infer that 296 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING there were no turkeys found on the Missouri or its tributaries as far north as the then location of those tribes—Knife River. I suspect that in the Rocky Mountains turkeys sel- dom or never crossed the divide between the north and south forks of the Platte, and that they never got as far west as the Black Hills. No bird is more gentle and unsuspicious than the turkey until it has learned that man is an enemy, and after that no bird is more wary and alert. Mr. Hen- shaw speaks of the lack of suspicion on the part of these birds, and Captain Carpenter tells how—when his com- mand was preparing to establish Fort Niobrara—a wild turkey came to the camp and ventured out of the under- brush to feed on the grain spilled by the animals. When Florida first began to be a resort for northern tourists, turkeys were very abundant and not at all shy or suspicious. They often associated with the domestic turkeys, and one wild gobbler became so tame that he would feed unconcernedly within a few feet of a man. On this point Dr. Ralph, writing about 1890, said to Captain Bendire: “One can hardly believe that the wild turkeys of to-day are of the same species as those of fifteen or twenty years ago [that is, 1872 to 1875]. Then they were rather stupid birds which it did not require much skill to shoot, but now I do not know of a game bird or mammal more alert or more difficult to approach. Formerly I have often, as they were sitting in trees on the banks of some stream, passed very near them, ssunynys ‘fexINY, PITA THE WILD TURKEY 297 both in our boats and in steamers, without causing them to fly, and I once, with a party of friends, ran a small steamer within twenty yards of a flock which did not take wing until several shots had been fired at them.” The turkey, while usually resident in a certain sec- tion, is yet said to be prone to wander, and to be by no means as local in its habits as the bobwhite or the ruffed grouse. Sometimes they will remain in a desira- ble location for a long time and then will leave it—for no apparent reason. On the plains the birds used to spend the night roosting in the trees of the bottoms, and after drinking in the morning would wander up on the prairie about the heads of ravines and there feed on grasshoppers and other insects and on sand cherries and tunas, returning in the heat of the day to the shade of the underbrush or even of a cut bank. Turkeys feed chiefly on vegetable matter. In old times the saying, that a good mast year was a good turkey year, passed into a proverb. They eat beech- nuts, chestnuts, various acorns, pecan nuts, persim- mons, the fruit of the cactus, all sorts of wild berries or seeds and grains and other vegetable matter, besides all insects. In the central and southern Rocky Moun- tains the fruit of the pifion forms a large part of their subsistence. As determined by the Biological Survey, the turkey’s food consists of 15% per cent. of animal matter and nearly 84% per cent. of vegetable matter. Of the vegetable matter, buds and leaves constitute nearly 25 per cent., fruit nearly 33, and other seeds 298 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING nearly 20 per cent. In the western country turkeys are great eaters of grasshoppers. They also destroy the tobacco worm and moth when they can get them. The breeding season for the turkey ranges from February to May, according to the latitude which the bird inhabits. At the breeding time, and, indeed, throughout the year until mating in the early spring, the hens and young birds associate together and apart from the gobblers. At mating time the gobbler’s actions are those of the domestic turkey. He gobbles loudly, struts and spreads his tail, drags his wings on the ground and puffs him- self out until he has made the proper impression on the hen. Often several birds are going through this performance about a single hen, and fights between the males are common, and, it is said, sometimes with fatal results. The nest is a mere hollow scratched in the ground, lined or not lined with straws, grass and a feather or two. The eggs vary in number from eight to four- teen. Captain Bendire reports a case where there were twenty-six eggs in a nest, but two hens were at the nest, one sitting on the eggs and one standing close by them. It is likely, therefore, that occasionally two hen turkeys share a nest, as two quail sometimes do. Like many ground-nesting birds, the turkey is ex- ceedingly hard to see when on her nest, and of the turkey, as of other birds, various instances of this have been related. Captain B. F. Goss, writing May, 1882, in southern Texas, says: THE WILD TURKEY 299 “We were encamped quite near the nest; one morn- ing I noticed a hen turkey stealing through the bushes and suspected she was going to her nest. We watched her carefully for three mornings, and having pretty nearly located the nest, commenced a close search, and examined, as we thought, every inch of ground. I was about giving up, when looking down almost at my feet, I saw the bird sitting on the nest. She at once ran; she had allowed me to pass several times within a foot of her without moving, and seemed to know at once when she was seen. I have often noticed this trait in birds of this genus; as long as unseen you can tramp all around them, but they seem to know at once when they are seen and lose no time in getting away.” As long as the hiding bird, which sees and hears its pursuer, is convinced that he is still ignorant of its position, it feels safe, but the moment it recognizes by the expression of the man’s eye that its hiding place has been detected, it is off without delay. The eggs of the wild turkey are not at all unlike those of the domestic bird. Usually they are cream- colored, dotted with finer or larger spots of reddish brown, chocolate and sometimes lavender. Captain Bendire states that the spots are more often very small and fine than large. The young follow the mother as soon as hatched, but Audubon says, “As the hatching generally takes place in the afternoon they frequently return to the nest to spend the first night there.” 300 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING The young are believed to be very tender and subject to many dangers from dampness. Some writers de- clare that the mother leads them on high ground for the first week or two of their life in order that they may escape the dangers of dew or rain from the grass. Audubon says: “To prevent the disastrous effect of rainy weather the mother, like the skilful physician, plucks the buds of the spicewood bush and gives them to her young”! The little birds are able to fly at about two or three weeks old, and soon after that leave the ground and roost on the low branch of a tree sheltered under their mother’s wings. When danger threatens, the mother turkey, like many other gallinaceous birds, calls to her young, which at once crouch and hide and cannot then be seen. It is said that if the male turkey finds a nest of eggs upon which the hen is sitting he will destroy them, and that if he comes upon a brood of newly hatched young he will kill them. It is certain that during the autumn and winter the young birds and the females associate together, while the old males keep by themselves and do not begin to seek the society of their mates until the approach of spring. In the Rocky Mountains the nests are built at an al- titude of from 3,000 to 5,000 feet, but as the weather grows warmer and the snow disappears, the old hen leads the young up to the higher mountains, so that they finally summer at from eight to ten thousand feet. In the late autumn, when the weather grows cold and snows come on the mountain ranges, the birds move THE WILD TURKEY 301 down again to sheltered cafions or timbered river val- leys, where they spend the winter. In the southern States turkeys have always been abundant and their stronghold is still there—parts of Virginia, the Carolinas, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri and Texas. Merriam’s turkey is said to be almost extinct in Colorado, but is still abundant in Arizona and New Mexico. That there should be occasional outlying colonies of a few birds in Iowa and Nebraska, such as Mr. Griswold is told of, seems very surprising, but such colonies cannot last long unless protected by the owners of the land on which they live. The turkey, grandest of game birds, has been ex- terminated over much of its former range. Great in size, and valuable for food, he is an object of pursuit wherever found. So, throughout the farming country of the North and West the turkey is gone and gone for- ever. As the country is settled up, is his complete ex- termination to follow? Domesticated, he will always survive, but should we not strive to retain the old wild turkey of the eastern States in his untamed wild state, self-dependent, one of the typical and interesting in- habitants of our primitive forests and our far-stretch- ing southern plains? PART II UPLAND SHOOTING AORN &CO BALTIMORE: vay, Dept. of Agriculture. Sw Furmiesion. Yous Goassit Puerto. 4 Nace gat UPLAND SHOOTING WOODCOCK SHOOTING. Many years ago I contributed to the Century Maga- zine an article on this species, and from it, by the kind permission of the Century Company, I extract a few paragraphs on some details of the woodcock shooting of those days. Birds were plenty then, as we may hope that some day they will be again, if wise measures are taken for their protection. The woodcock is not often seen and is quite con- tented to be overlooked. He has no brilliant song to catch the ear, no gaudy plumes to attract the eye, nor does he perform graceful evolutions high in the air in the broad glare of day. He is truly a modest fowl, and except at night, or during the twilight of morn- ing or evening, he does not willingly venture into sit- uations where he can be viewed by the casual wan- derer through field or wood. One who desires to make his acquaintance must penetrate into the depths of the most tangled swamps to find him at home. Even here, during the day, he is usually half asleep. Not so drowsy, however, as to be unaware of the approach 395 306 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING of an intruder. The soft rustling of the leaves, the occasional snapping of a dry twig, and the sound of the heavy footfall rouse him from his doze or his day dream. He moves sideways beneath the spread- ing leaves of a tuft of skunk cabbage, and with head turned on one side, and great eyes spread to their wid- est, watches for the approaching form. Once in a while something may cause him to take the alarm and dart away before it is within sight; but usually he lies close, and when he rises it is near at hand. He springs from the ground uttering a shrill, twittering whistle and twists about in his upward flight to dodge the branches which spread in a network above him, until he has topped the undergrowth, and then darts off in a straight line for fifty or a hundred yards, to plunge once more into his beloved cover. The dog is a most important auxiliary in woodcock shooting. A very few sportsmen employ cocker or field spaniels, which are trained to range close to the gun, and to give tongue as soon as they strike the scent, thus warning the shooter of the proximity of the bird and preparing him for its possible rising. But most men use the setter or pointer. A good wood- cock dog should work close; that is, within sight of the gun. Often where the undergrowth is very thick, it becomes necessary to attach a bell to the dog’s col- lar, so that if it pass out of sight for a few moments its whereabouts may still be known by the sound. Late in November you will still find a few birds, and at this time they will be lusty and strong of wing, ww SPilg ewey BulysUeA OMY, ,, S,JoUSIy “MV Iq worg *ZUITINOID YIOIPOM WOODCOCK SHOOTING 307 and will test your skill. Cross the meadows then and go down into the swamp, working along near the edge, where the underbrush is not too thick, and the soil under the leaves, as you can see in the cattle tracks, is rich and black. Just beyond you, on the left, a steep hillside rises sharply from the edge of the swamp, its surface overgrown with low cedars, sumacs and bay- berry bushes. The old dog comes out of the swamp and turns toward the slope, and as he crosses before you glances back inquiringly. He knows the hillside, and understands as well as you do that a cock is usu- ally to be found on that warm southern exposure at this time of the year. No need to wave the hand or use any elaborate signal to tell him to work up among the cedars and through the brush. A little sidewise movement of the head, and he is breasting the steep ascent and rustling among the twigs and the crisp leaves, while you walk along a cowpath at the foot of the slope. If there be a bird there it will be sure to fly toward the swamp, and must therefore cross in front of you. For a few moments you hear the dog as he works above you; then the sound ceases, and as you pause to listen for it there comes to the ear that shrill whistle, so like the midsummer twitter of the kingbird, that warns you to “mark cock.” You see a brown flash among the green cedars, and the bird darts out to plunge into the swamp; but as ‘he sees you he turns sharply and flies down the path, straight away. You have plenty of time; bring up your gun deliberately, cover the bird, and when it is 308 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING about thirty yards distant fire, and it is yours. At the report of the gun your dog appears on the bank above, pauses a moment until you have slipped an- other cartridge into the gun, and then dashes off to- ward where the bird lies. A word steadies him as he approaches it, and after quartering once or twice the scent reaches his nostrils. He feels for it, then pauses, and at command steps forward, gently takes the bird in his mouth and trots slowly toward you, expressing as much pride and satisfaction in his face and in his slowly wagging tail as if he had captured the prize without any assistance of yours. On again, along the border of the swamp, sometimes stooping low to pass beneath the tangled underbrush, or forc- ing your way through the thick alders, making the dead stems crack and fly, or passing through a spot free from low shrubs, where the tall, gray trunks of the hardwood trees stand apart, and the footfall is scarcely heard on the damp, dead leaves. For some time the dog works quietly ahead of you, manifesting none of the signs which would lead you to suspect that birds were near; but as you approach a little arm of the swamp which runs up a narrow ravine, the merry action of the setter’s tail warns you to be pre- pared for a point. Yes, there, where the wind has swept aside the leaves, exposing the black mud _ be- neath, you see in it dozens of little round holes, which tell you that the long bill has been at work here. Sud- denly he stops, and stands quite still, except that the tip of his tail moves a little from side to side. As WOODCOCK SHOOTING 309 you step up to him he moves again, very slowly and cautiously, and then suddenly stops and remains mo- tionless. It is a pretty picture, and one that the sports- man never tires of watching and admiring. The dog’s fore foot is raised in the act of stepping, his tail is straight and rigid, head a little above the line of the back and slightly turned to one side, ears a little pricked. Walk up beside him and look at his face, and you will see, what his attitude already indicates, that he is laboring under strong excitement. His nose is perhaps within a few inches of the bird and the scent is strong. You will see his eyes roll as he looks over the ground before him. His forehead is knotted into a frown, which shows how thoroughly in earnest he Sa sak The bird is likely to fly up from beneath the dog’s nose, so close to you that you cannot shoot without run- ning the risk of either missing altogether or else blow- ing him to fragments, and will then, perhaps, dart be- hind a thick cedar or twist into some alders through which you can hardly see to shoot. The alder runs, so numerous through the New Eng- land States, are most satisfactory places to work’ for woodcock. These are usually the channels of little brooks a few feet below the general level of the open meadows through which they pass. The ground is too damp to be successfully cultivated and the farmer gives it up to the black alder, which attains a height of from fifteen to twenty feet. Beneath these in the wet, springy soil, the skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus), 310 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING a variety of ferns, and many other moisture-loving plants, grow in wild luxuriance. These runs, or swales, are often so narrow that the best way to hunt them, if two are shooting together, is for each to take a side and let the dog work between them. The birds, when started, will either show themselves above the alders, or, what is more likely, will break out on one side or the other, and fly forward along the edge of the bushes, giving a perfectly open shot and one which not even a tyro ought to miss. In working out such places the bell should be put on the dog, for it is often so dark beneath the thick growth that it is difficult to see him. Should he come to a point, and _the bird decline to rise, a heavy stick or stone thrown into the bushes just in front of him will often flush it. One of the most instructive articles on woodcock shooting ever written is from the pen of Mr. B. Wa- ters and was published in Forest and Stream in the year 1903. Iam glad to be able to reproduce it—with a few minor changes—in these pages. Of all the kinds of shooting of field and forest the sport of woodcock shooting holds the warmest place in the hearts of its devotees. The woodcock shooter is an enthusiast of enthusiasts. He may take a keen pleasure in bringing other game birds to bag, but when woodcock shooting is under consideration comparison ceases. And indeed this sport possesses many fas- cinating features peculiar to itself. First of all, it can at best be indulged in only in very small quantities. There is but little of it when compared with the abun- WOODCOCK ‘SHOOTING 311 dance of other kinds of shooting, for the woodcock is comparatively a rare bird and its season is a short one; therefore the keen edge of enjoyment of woodcock shooting is never dulled by surfeit. The habitat of the bird is distinctly different from the home of all other game birds, and on the earth’s surface only tiny spots here and there meet the wants of its nature, and many vast tracts of fertile country have no wood- cock ground at all. It, too, is a bird of mystery, of whose coming and going no one knows. It is nocturnal in its habits, and its haunts have been such secluded and unused spots —trarely invaded by man—that it is seldom seen. The residents of sections wherein is the home of the wood- cock may never see one from year’s end to year’s end, and, indeed, may go through life with no more knowledge of them than that derived from hearsay; or, seeing one, may still remain in ignorance of its identity. While the quail, the partridge, the snipe, and other game birds are not unfamiliar to country residents and are readily identified by them, the wood- cock and its doings are shrouded in mystery. The large woodpecker in some sections is called woodcock by the country folk, while in other sections any plover which has a long bill is often called by the same name. So little is the bird known, that sometimes when killed it is called snipe, and sometimes the snipe is called woodcock, by those who have not given the bird spe- cial study or attention. Its life being so entirely with- out the sight of man and in general so little being 312 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING known of it, it is not strange that the little accurate knowledge is obscured by the air of much mystery, and that those who seek the bird find a fascination in it greater than that of any other form of game bird shooting. The bird itself is of peculiar form and of rare richness in its colorings, and its flesh is esteemed a morsel of choice excellence fit for the palate of the most fastidious epicure. Thus it affords great sport in its capture and is pleasing to the eye and to the palate. The scarcity of the bird, its beauty, and the delicate flavor of its flesh, all serve to enhance its value, and its mystic life adds a charm to its pursuit which is distinct from all others. Its home is generally in densely shaded nooks in out-of-the-way places where man rarely enters and where the soil is soft and moist, for in such places is its food obtained. The alder runs and slopes in the birches and nooks in the woods where springs or rivu- lets or excessive moisture makes the ground soft, are its favorite haunts, and sometimes in certain sections it finds spots in the cornfields which are desirable feed- ing grounds, though haunts and feeding grounds are never plentiful. In Mississippi it is occasionally found in open sedge fields. Many places which to the eye have every appearance of being a suitable home for it, still have no birds in them. The difficulties of woodcock shooting have been greatly exaggerated, particularly as concerns the ex- traordinary skill required by the shooter, and the still WOODCOCK SHOOTING 313 more extraordinary labor, and consequent fatigue, im- posed on the dogs, the latter being an indispensable factor in the sport if any success worth considering is sought. While intrinsically the sport possesses all the requirements of the highest degree of wing shooting, the writers on it have deemed it fitting that it be dressed in a glamor of romance, presumably that a lit- tle knowledge might be presented in an elaboration of high colors which touched on the sky, the sunshine as it glinted through the alders, the beautiful color of the foliage, the balmy zephyrs laden with nature’s per- fumes, ad infinitum, all of which are present in all other kinds of shooting, or, indeed, present if there is no shooting at all. The shooting of woodcock is diffi- cult, it is true, but not so extraordinary in its diffi- culty as to be distinctly special, and far from being so difficult as most shooters make it from injudicious selection of guns, loads, etc. Woodcock shooting is close shooting, the closest of any kind of shooting recognized as legitimate sport with the shotgun. While the woodcock is called a game bird, it is gentle and mild in its habits, with none of the pugnacity or extraordinary vitality pos- sessed by members of the grouse family. The small- est of shot is sufficiently heavy to kill it, and the cylin- der-bore gun is amply close enough for the ranges which one must accept in shooting it. The choke bore of any kind is out of place in such extremely short ranges, and unfit to use on a bird so easily killed; though, strange to say, the use of it is not uncommon, 314 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING owing, no doubt, to the fact that many men, owning but one gun, must use it for all kinds of shooting, and in other instances to the further fact of thoughtless- ness concerning the proper requirements of the sport. Short barrels, too, are desirable, the difference in the handling of a 30-inch barrel and a 24-inch barrel in cover being far away in favor of the latter. Woodcock shooting is largely a matter of snap shooting; therefore, a wider range at a much shorter distance is a requisite if one is cultivating success in- stead of nursing a fad in respect to the use of choke- bore guns for all kinds of shooting, whether the guns be fitting or otherwise. In the shooting of quail or chickens or ruffed grouse—to a lesser degree with the latter—a certain degree of deliberation and quick aim can be practiced, but in woodcock shooting the oppor- tunities for deliberation are the rare exception; hence the need of adopting an. open gun to meet the require- ments of quicker work and short ranges. Light loads and smaller shot can be used successfully, some noted shooters using dust shot exclusively. With a short cylinder-bore gun—a true cylinder bore, not the modi- fied choke bores, which are often called cylinder—such a pattern can be secured at 15 or 20 yards as will insure fair success to the average shot and the best of success to the good one. It might be said that such a gun and load are too murderous, and indeed they would be in the hands of a man who could shoot with any degree of precision if he could exercise de- liberation; but as in the greater number of instances WOODCOCK SHOOTING 315 the shooter has but an instant in which to act, the results are far from being so fatal as one might fancy them to be. Often there is but a momentary glimpse of a dusky shadow flitting through or across a small vista in the dense growth, and the shooter must fire then or not at all, unless he is pleased at a purpose- less tumult, that being the sum total when he shoots and trusts to luck for the execution of his purposes. As in all other shooting, experience enables the sportsman to recognize the promising nooks for wood- cock and the signs which denote its presence, these being the holes made by it in boring in the ground for its food, and other indications well known to the shooter, and which can only be recognized by experi- ence. As to the labor and fatigue imposed on the dog while seeking for woodcock, they are largely an ex- aggeration. Wilson, in his work on the birds of North America, specifically mentions the fatiguing efforts which the dog encounters in woodcock shooting, and mentions that relays of dogs are necessary. As a matter of fact, the work of the dog in woodcock shoot- ing is the easiest of all kinds of shooting. He must range close to the shooter—at most not beyond a gun- shot—if he is to serve the best purpose in that kind of shooting and it is not at all essential or desirable that he work at high speed. It is essential, however, that he be intelligent, and know thoroughly the best manner of working to the gun and assisting the shooter to get his shots in a manner to insure success. He 316 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING should work diligently, but not hurriedly, and it is hardly necessary to add that the work should be done as silently as possible, though this also is true of all other kinds of shooting. The dog should be a good retriever, otherwise a large percentage of the birds will be lost, for many times it is as difficult to find the bird after it is killed as it is before. Dogs which run riot in this shooting can soon tire themselves out, particularly in summer shooting, when dogs are out of condition, and the weather warm, but the consequent fatigue from such overexertion and unfit condition cannot be justly at- tributed to the difficulty of the sport. It is rather hard work for the shooter, particularly him of the North, where the quest must be made afoot, and where the footing is difficult and insecure, though after all it is but little more difficult than any other shooting in. which the shooter walks. As the dog often comes to a point in thick cover out of sight of the shooter, even though the point may be but a few steps away from him, a bell attached to the dog’s collar has been found of great assistance in determining his whereabouts, and its silence indicates when he stops on point, a matter very essential in con- ducting the sport. Not every dog is a good wood- cock dog, even though he may be excellent on quail, snipe, chickens, etc. Some dogs appear to dislike the work intensely, others refusing to recognize the bird at all. A few take to it very kindly, and work to the gun from observation to a useful degree far above WOODCOCK SHOOTING 317 what could be established by the most careful train- ing. The spaniel is but little used in the United States for woodcock shooting, or any other kind of shooting, for that matter, though there is no doubt but they could be made eminently useful in field sport. In Louisiana, and other sections of the South, where the woodcock seeks a clime more genial than that of a northern winter, the conditions of shooting change almost entirely. In sections at certain times, gener- ally in the last of December and the fore part of Janu- ary, they may be found in great numbers, and a bag of twenty, thirty or forty in a day is not then consid- ered remarkable. They frequent the switch-cane bot- toms, or woods in the timbered prairie, in which the heavy fall rains have softened the ground, and where abundance of food can be found. Their stay in the South is very short, for they start North immediately on the lessening of the winter cold—after a stay of not more than a few weeks—their coming and going then being quite as silent and secret as in the North. They are then killed in great numbers, both day and night, by market shooters, and shipped to the home and dis- tant markets. They have their choice feeding grounds even in that land of abundance, and skill, diligent ef- fort and knowledge of habitat are quite as essential to success in the southern winter shooting as in the less bountiful shooting of the North in summer and fall. So scarce has the woodcock been for the last dozen years that some young gunners have never seen one, and know them only from books. Happily, for the 318 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING past two or three years they seem to have been rapidly increasing, a result, no doubt, of their protection in summer over most of the country. It is interesting to recall the days of woodcock shoot- ing a generation ago and to compare their results with those of recent times. For the past few years many a gunner who devoted a week or ten days to faithful tramping and shooting in eastern covers has thought himself fortunate if in that time he killed three or four woodcock. An item published in Forest and Stream in 1874 speaks of three gunners who went out early in the summer season and in one day killed sixty- four woodcock. Twenty, twenty-five and thirty a day were ordinary records for a single gun, and in No- vember, 1876, we recall an account by a friend of a day’s shooting which yielded him twenty-six woodcock besides a less number of partridges and quail. \ SNIPE SHOOTING The snipe is notorious as an uncertain bird, and snipe shooting as a sport that can never be depended on. In old times one used to walk mile after mile in the hope that some of the birds might be started from some favorite bit of feeding ground, but too often only dis- appointment and weary leg muscles rewarded the en- thusiastic tramper. On the other hand, snipe were occasionally found in great abundance, and could hardly be driven away. Recollections of occurrences of both kinds are laid away in the memories of all of the older gunners, Near Vincennes, Ind., many years ago, there was a famous feeding ground for snipe to which, during mi- gration, the birds resorted in great numbers. Thither I went one season with a companion to whom the grounds were well known, and there I saw more snipe than at that time I supposed existed. We were driven to the edge of the marsh, and there, as the team drew up and the wagon cramped to let us jump out, a dozen snipe rose almost under the horses’ hoofs, flew fifteen or twenty yards and alighted. Disregarding the advice of my friend, I had brought a dog with me, the best on partridges that I had ever seen, but he proved absolutely useless here. The birds 319 320 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING were so many, the scents so numerous and confused, that the poor old dog entirely lost his head and gal- loped about aimlessly until called in and made to fol- low at heel. The birds got up, a dozen at a time, flew a few yards ahead and alighted, and then a number of others got up and did the same thing. The report of the gun put a considerable number on the wing, yet at first did not seem to make the birds wild. Mean- time I could hear my companion, who had gone off by himself, shooting very regularly, and felt that his greater experience was now standing him in good stead, and that he must be acquitting himself very much bet- ter than I was. For the multitude of the birds, and the way in which they were rising on every side, con- fused and unnerved me almost as much as it did my dog. Although that day I killed more snipe than ever before or since, yet I do not look upon it as one of the shooting days especially worth remembering. The birds were too many, and I was not in condition to take advantage of my opportunities. I have had more satisfaction from a single ruffed grouse, neatly killed as he darted away through the thick underbrush of the swamp, than I did in that heavy bag of snipe, where I loaded and fired all the afternoon, until my ammu- nition was exhausted. Some such feeling as this, I believe, animates most sportsmen when they reach grounds where birds are so numerous that all the uncertainty of shooting is taken away. Few of us, I think, care greatly to catch SNIPE SHOOTING 321 brook trout—strong and gamey though they may be— out of a preserved pond. Something of this sort Mr. Waters expresses in the admirable article on snipe shooting which follows this. He has tramped the marshes where snipe were scarce, and again where, as in Louisiana, they were enormously abundant, and he, better than most gun- ners, knows the oddities and eccentricities of this re- markable bird. Mr. Waters’ article, with slight changes, says: According to the writings of ornithologists, the breeding grounds of the snipe begin on their south- ern boundary, at about 42 degrees of latitude, a paral- lel through the northern part of Nebraska, Iowa, etc. The grounds extend thence north to the Arctic Circle. The snipe migrate leisurely southward as the winter season approaches, tarrying on the available feeding grounds, ultimately going as far south as the West Indies and northern South America. It is a bird of the wet lands, and as said of the woodcock, the available area affording its food sup- ply is small as compared with the earth’s surface. Relatively, the places which are soft enough to be bored with its sensitive bill, which contain food to its liking, and enough to supply its needs, are exceedingly lim- ited in number and area. Soft and wet land may also be gravelly or sandy or clayey, and therefore unfit to sustain the animal and vegetable life on which the snipe subsists; or from its refractory nature it may be impervious to the deli- 322 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING cate weapon with which nature has provided the snipe for the capturing of its food. It therefore is appar- ent that of all the wet lands there are only certain parts which contain snipe food. Of the places which afford snipe food some are good throughout the whole season, as, for instance, the sloughs and marshes and parts of river valleys of the prairie country wherein it makes its summer home. Other places are but temporarily available, as lands made soft and wet by heavy rains. Such places may serve it well for many weeks, as in Louisiana and Texas in the fall and winter months, during the rainy season, which in those States is largely the equivalent of winter. Again, the snipe may seek its food in places which are quite wet, as in some of the large wet marshes, and again, in some other sections, it may make its haunts on upland so firm that the hunter may walk thereon pleasantly and dry-shod. While the woodcock, its long-billed confrére, is a bird of the covert, the snipe is a bird of the open. On these birds nature lays a more severe restriction con- cerning a late stay in the North than she does on any other game bird, for a snipe or woodcock attempting to gain a subsistence in a frozen country is in a pa- thetic situation indeed. Its food is said to be larve, tender roots of plants, and worms, which it secures by boring, and also such insects and other edible food as it can secure on top of the ground. To the local sportsman the snipe’s habits in the SNIPE SHOOTING 323 shooting season—which is mostly the migratory sea- son—seem erratic and unknowable, if its unstable char- acteristics may be called habits at all. It is in one place to-day, and to-morrow in another. To-day there may be an abundance, to-morrow a dearth. Or it may go contrary to its erratic reputation and remain a num- ber of days about the same grounds. Still, the shooter is largely in ignorance of what the snipe will do next. The weather and food conditions may be the same, so far as observation can determine them, and yet the birds come and go in their own whimsical way, regardless of conditions. Some subtle, mysterious impulse seems to impel the birds of a certain locality either to come or go, though not in the manner of birds which flock. Snipe fly mostly in ones or twos or threes, some- times more, but always in small numbers. Being inde- pendent in flight, it is difficult to understand how the common impulse to seek other grounds is at the same time felt and acted on by all the snipe of a certain neighborhood, or at least by most of them. There are many exceptions, as a matter of course; as, for instance, in a section where there are snipe in abun- dance on a certain day, a part only may leave at the same time. Indeed, a few snipe may be found on cer- tain grounds throughout the whole season. Yet, how- ‘ever much the exception may affect the rule, the greater part of the birds are erratic and lawless most of the time. No doubt that which seems whimsical and mysteri- 324 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ous in the life of the snipe is really in harmony with the needs of its nature. As it is nocturnal in habit, it is difficult to study, and it is specially difficult for the resident of one locality to observe its general habits with any degree of precision. Seeing it in but one small corner of its habitat, the local sportsman can gain, at best, but a fragmentary knowledge of its needs and its habits. Being swift of wing and enduring of flight, the snipe undoubtedly feeds over vast areas of ground many miles apart, twenty or thirty miles of flight being of no more effort to it when in search of food than twenty or thirty rods are to the prairie chicken. When snipe invade feeding grounds in vast numbers, as is frequently the case, the grounds are soon thoroughly bored, and all the food within reach is consumed; thus it may be a necessity for them to seek food else- where till the exhausted grounds have time to replen- ish themselves. Many writers lay great stress on the difficulties of snipe shooting. They treat it as a bird of phenomenal swiftness and erratic flight, and the shooting of it as requiring something extraordinary in the matter of skill. As a matter of fact, snipe shooting, at certain times, is the easiest of shooting. On warm days, when the birds are fat and lazy, flying slowly and tamely, with pendulous bills, as is often the case in the fall, in the South, no bird a-wing is more easily killed. They are then disinclined to fly. They indolently lie to the dog’s points till the shooter walks them up. ‘ediug Junurod 13}30g SNIPE SHOOTING 325 The books teach that the snipe rises with a zigzag flight against the wind, darting to right and left with such rapid flashes of speed that the best of skilful sportsmen are puzzled, and consequently make many a miss, The snipe, it is true, goes against the wind when there is a wind, and zigzags a few times to rise up- ward before taking a straight course. Many writers on snipe shooting lay it down as correct that the shooter, to take advantage of this peculiarity in ris- ing, should walk down wind, or advance to the dog’s point down wind, so that when the snipe is flushed it will fly toward him. All such teachings savor of the novice, or of a skill which needs nursing. All the difficulties are greatly exaggerated, zigzag, swift flight and all. The zigzag of the snipe a-wing is in the beginning of its flight, and nothing is easier than to wait a moment till it straightens out on a straight flight. Then the killing is a matter of shooting on the wing, similar to other wing shooting. As to walking down wind to secure a better shot, the sportsman need not concern himself about it in the least, excepting perhaps on such days as are cold, and days when the birds are very wild and rise at the extreme range of the gun. As with pigeon shooting, the really good shot does not let his birds get far if they rise within range. Whether they zigzag or not, he snaps them as soon as they are on the wing; or being well on the wing, he permits them to get into steady flight, and then delivers his fire. There is on 326 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the part of the experienced shot no particular attempt to reach the bird from a weak quarter. He takes the shooting as it comes. On windy days, or when the weather is cold, the snipe may be very wild and rise at extreme ranges. Shooting then is quite as much a test of the gun as it is a test of the shooter’s skill. ew writers, how- ever, pay any heed to the distinction, and consider it all, be the rise far or near, as a matter of skill alone. At best, walking down wind on snipe is an uncertain advantage, for they can fly down or across wind with a swiftness and ease which dispose very quickly of any trifling advantage of a few yards taken up wind for the start. The habits of snipe, as oftenest described, are their habits when they are lean and wild, or wild from a change from warm to cold or from calm to windy weather. But to teach that such is their regular man- ner of flight would be on a par with teaching that quail live in the tree-tops because they sometimes take refuge there. Even when lean and wild, on a calm day the snipe does not strain the skill of a good shot. But on a windy day it is a different proposition. The wild, lean snipe can dart very swiftly across or down wind, and if to this be added rise at long range, the shooting becomes really difficult, though then, as mentioned be- fore, it is also a test of the gun. When wildest, the snipe is exceedingly restless and moves fitfully from place to place. It then takes alarm SNIPE SHOOTING 327 quickly, flying high out of range, with its bill extended straight ahead. It can pitch to the ground from its highest flight, darting downward with stiffened wings and alighting with the greatest ease. In the course of migration the birds stop in favorite places where food is abundant, and oftentimes there remain till the weather becomes unpleasant. As a rule, they arrive in the South in a lean condition. When lean they are also wilder, regardless of weather conditions. Shooting then, if limited to times when they are wild, is shooting in its most difficult phases. But as mentioned before, such difficulties of snipe shooting are not the average of snipe shooting. Snipe shooting as to possible quantity varies widely, one locality with another. One locality may contain but a few snipe to reward the shooter’s efforts, while in other nearby localities they may fairly swarm, as in Louisiana and Texas in the fall and spring months, when the birds are migrating. In those States they generally remain several weeks to enjoy the food abun- dance. Some scattered ones in the South may be found all through the winter. The heavy rains of fall and spring, frequently a downpour of days in the far South, soften the fat alluvial prairie lands, thereby fitting hundreds of square miles for the snipe’s habitat. In particularly favorable sections of the prairie, cotton, corn and sugar fields, they may at times be found in thousands. A dog in such shooting is an encumbrance, except to act as a retriever. There is no woodcraft 328 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING necessary in such shooting. The sportsman walks along till the birds are walked up. So rapidly will he sometimes flush them that at every step it is fire and load, and fire and load again. At such times the gun becomes too hot to hold, and the shooter must perforce stop till it is cool enough to handle. Enormous bags of snipe have been made, particu- larly in Louisiana and Texas, where the greater part of the flight of North America congregates for a few weeks in the period of snipe migration. One of the greatest, and I believe that it is referred to now as the greatest bag, was made many years ago by Mr. Pringle, a wealthy sugar planter, of Louisiana, who had great fame as a sportsman of rare skill. He bagged 400 and some odd snipe in one day. This is a large bag, indeed. It is but one of thousands of large bags in that section, so common as to excite no special comment. I have told of these matters to shooters in the North whose success was measured by a dozen snipe, more or less, as the result of a day’s shooting. Such large bags being outside of their personal experience, they have been pleased to consider it an idle tale. They seemed to think that their narrow experience in shoot- ing a few birds over a few acres of ground each year was the measure of the world over. In regard to the big bag made by Mr. Pringle, it may be added, by way of explanation, that he had ne- groes to assist him, some to carry the spare guns, oth- ers to carry the ammunition and to retrieve the dead SNIPE SHOOTING 329 birds. I have been told by men who have hunted with him that he is a most indefatigable walker, and pos- sesses extraordinary quickness and accuracy in the use of the shotgun, snapping the birds almost on the instant that they take wing. In that land of game abundance, at that day, it was not considered unsportsmanlike to kill all that the sportsman pleased to kill, for however great the bags, there was no apparent diminution in the numbers of the birds. If the sportsmen killed many, their neigh- bors derived the benefit of it. The killing, too, was at irregular intervals, differing from the steady drain made on the bird supply day after day by those who shoot for market. This circumstance of the record bag was a happen- ing of many years ago, when the sentiment concerning game preservation was different everywhere, North and South, from what it is to-day. As to snipe shooting, and the way of it, the proper manner to shoot them is to go forth and shoot them. In other words, the set manner of doing this thing and that thing, as taught by some writers, is all very well if one can do no better. There is no rule whereby snipe shooting can be made soft and easy, and there is no sportsman with proper ambition who will care to have his skill less than the best test that the bird can offer. If the sports- man’s skill is equal to the test, practice will improve it. In any event, there is at least the pleasure of try- ing to cope with the conditions. The proper skill is 339 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING that which takes the shooting as it comes, instead of picking out the easy shots, or easy combinations to secure them. The best snipe gun is moderately choked, or an im- proved cylinder bore. As in all open shooting, good work may be done with a full choke, since the shooter can pick his distance to shoot his birds. However, it is not every man who can wait on his bird, or who can estimate distances at a glance; therefore, it is bet- ter to have a scatter gun which will be available for instant use when the bird rises. A 12-bore is most commonly used, and as for the size of shot, No. 8s or Qs or 10s are good, the latter being quite large enough when the birds are fat and lazy. As a bird to shoot over dogs, the snipe is inferior. Sometimes it is in such abundance that a dog is un- necessary. At other times it is so wild that it will not lie to the dog at all. If fat and tame, it may lie too well. Again, it will frequent marshes so wet, cold and rank with marsh grasses that it is impossible for a dog to work satisfactorily, however good his intentions and ability may be. Very few dogs have a natural fondness for work on snipe. It is acquired in most instances. Some dogs, good on upland game birds, thoroughly detest the snipe and refuse to recognize it. On the other hand, some dogs like snipe as a bird to work on, though such are exceptional. Considered strictly as a bird of the open, the snipe affords excellent open shooting. Yet there is never SNIPE SHOOTING 331 the weird uncertainty about it that some writers have discovered. No doubt an easy explanation of the diffi- cult shooting is found in the manner in which the shooter handles his gun rather than in the manner of the snipe’s flight. When snipe are in great abundance, and can be bagged with little effort by walking them up, the sportsman soon tires of the sport. It is too easy then to be considered sport. On the other hand, when they are scarce, wild, and will not lie to a dog, it is too difficult and uncertain. The dog is eliminated then as a factor, and the shooting is largely a matter of taking chances. When the happy medium is found, the birds being neither too wild nor too tame, it is excellent sport indeed, though in Louisiana I noted that where there was an abundance of both snipe and quail the sportsman quickly tired of snipe shooting and gave quail the preference. QUAIL SHOOTING. The quails of America cover a greater territory than any other of our game birds, and are more faithfully pursued than any. They are found, interruptedly, from points in Canada far down into Central America, and beyond. Over the eastern half of the continent, and far better known than any other species, bobwhite stands alone. Moreover, by one means or another, he has extended his range, first to the Rocky Moun- tains and then beyond that to the Pacific coast, while the Texas form, and some Mexican species, drift far to the southward. Bobwhite has been called the game bird of America, and from early days has furnished sport to north- erner and to southerner alike. It was never abundant in Canada, though the gunners of southwestern Ontario used to get a few; but forty or fifty years ago it was very abundant in central New York, from which coun- try, we believe, it has long been exterminated. Many years ago the late Prof. O. C. Marsh, of Yale Col- lege, used to relate with gusto stories of the good quail shooting that he had had near Lockport, N. Y., in the days before the Civil War. Hard winters and overshooting have long ago al- most exterminated the quail in Massachusetts, Con- necticut, New York, and portions of Pennsylvania, yet 332 QUAIL SHOOTING 333 it cannot be doubted that self-control on the part of gunners would result in the re-establishing of these birds in goodly numbers through many sections of their former range. In a certain Connecticut town, where the quail had been practically exterminated, the gunners, for several years, have had an understand- ing that no one of them should disturb these birds. The result of this protection has been that in the spring of 1910 quail might be heard calling from every side in certain sections of this town. It is said by the gunners there that there will be great quail shooting this fall. This may mean that the gunners will again kill off all the quail, and that again for six or seven years they will have no shooting. In the West are the beautiful plumed and helmeted quails of the mountain, of the valley and of the desert —and those other birds of curious plumage and soft, thick crest, Mearns’ quail and the scaled quail, also known, respectively, as “fool quail” and ‘“‘cotton-head.” Except for Mearns’ quail, these western forms do not, we are usually told, offer good shooting. They run like deer before the dogs, rise at long distances, make long flights, and as soon as they reach the ground start running again. Mearns’ quail is said to be an exception to this rule, and lies close and hard. So difficult are valley quail to shoot over points, that many gunners of southern California do not attempt to use a dog to find them, while others use dogs only for retrieving, or to flush the birds while running. Few people in the United States have had greater 334 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING experience in quail shooting than Mr. B. Waters, who has written one of the very best articles on this sub- ject that has ever been penned, which in substance reads as follows: BOBWHITE SHOOTING. From the personal point of view, each one gener- ally has his own preference in respect to the bird which he prefers to shoot to secure the greatest pleasure, and this preference in turn determines the shooter’s opin- ion that such bird is therefore the best of all birds for the purpose of sport. Thus, one prefers ducks, and not considering that his own personal idiosyncrasies, or greater success, or habit and long association, or what not, may have much to do with his preference, he solemnly affirms that duck shooting is the best of all shooting. And so with him whose choice of sport is the shooting of some other bird—that bird is sure to be exalted above all others. But from the standpoint of the greatest good to the greatest number, quail shooting, for many reasons, is the best of all shooting. It is a kind which affords such mixed shooting—open and cover, slow and swift —that shots can be found to meet the skill and fancy of all, be the former little or great and the latter fastidious. There is much of the open quail shooting which is not so difficult as to dishearten him of moderate skill, while, on the other hand, shooting in cover tests the QUAIL SHOOTING aa6 skill of the most expert sportsman. And again, taken all in all, whether in open or cover, the quail shooter of good average skill can compass a good showing in results, and thus enjoy the pleasure which comes from reasonable success. In this connection it may not be amiss to maintain that a certain degree of success is essential to the shooter’s pleasure. Many writers deprecate the con- sideration of the bag, treating it as an irrelevant, gross incident, so dominated by the beauties of nature and the ethics of shooting, in the abstract, that it should be mentioned in hushed tones or viewed with eyes askance. The beautiful and the useful of sport should go hand in hand. Each is a part of the great whole, and as such should be equal factors of sportsmanship. To the sentimental, which ennobles and adorns the useful of life, there must be added the material and the practical. To the shooter there must be a reward for his efforts. It has often been said that it is not all of shooting to shoot, nor all of fishing to fish, for- getting the converse, that, all of shooting or fishing being absent, there is no shooting nor fishing at all. As to quail shooting in respect to quantity, there is more of it than there is of any other kind of shoot- ing, hence each shooter can better satisfy his longings for sport if it be measured by the possibilities of the bag or the number of opportunities offered. And there is also more of it when measured by the matter of time, for it extends through a season of about five months, taking it as it is in the North and South. 336 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Thus, the man whose business cares leave him but a few days for shooting, and these at no definite time, has more possibilities of sport on quail than on any other bird. But the very abundance of the quail seems to have checked the proper appreciation of it. Not that it is treated with neglect, but there seems to be a lack of the enthusiasm and lavish use of the superlative, so often to be noted when writers are discoursing on the ruffed grouse or the woodcock. Nevertheless, it is not uncommon to have a keen relish for what is rare, even if it be not of the best, while the good may be so common as to escape notice. The quail is more uniformly and widely distributed throughout the United States than is any other game bird. Its habitat generally comprises both open and cover, though whole districts are exceptions, as will be touched on later; thus, besides giving the sports- man a mixed style of shooting, is added the charm of constant variety, and testing of the sportsman’s skill in woodcraft. . It differs from the ruffed grouse, whose home is in the woods, a much smaller section relatively. All works on natural history, so far as I know, teach that the quail’s home comprises conjointly both open and cover; and while this is true in a general way, there are important exceptions to it, so much so that a work devoted to the habits and habitat of the quail as they are in one locality might be distinctly erroneous if applied to the quail of some other locality. In this respect it differs from the prairie chicken and the ruffed QUAIL SHOOTING 937 grouse—for of the one it may be said, without quali- fication, that it is a bird of the prairie; of the other, that it is a bird of the woods. Such sayings of them will be found to be true wherever those birds may be found. The quail thrives wherever it can obtain a food sup- ply, in open or in cover. It readily adjusts its habits to the dominating circumstances of food and cover, whether it be in prairie or woods, or a country com- prising both open and cover. In the country north of the Ohio and east of the Mississippi River, it frequents the open fields largely, preferring such as have a good food supply, with hedges or old walls and fences fringed with brush, or nearby woods and thickets to which it can run or fly for shelter or safety. In such sections it rarely goes far into the woods, preferring to skirt around the outer edges of them, merely for protection and shelter. The hawks are its deadly enemies, and it needs ever to be alert in avoiding them. The quail oftenest roosts in the open fields, where there is at least a few inches growth of grass, stubble or weeds for concealment, and it uses the same place many times if not constantly disturbed. This is indi- cated by the grass or other vegetation being beaten down in the roost, a small circular opening, about two feet in diameter, and the pile of droppings in the center of it. The birds huddle on the ground, bunched up close in a circular form, with their heads outside; thus all 338 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING face toward the outer circumference of the circle, which cannot be approached without coming to the view of some bird. This arrangement is said to prove ad- mirable for the safety of the whole. In theory it seems a wise arrangement; in practice it works very badly, since they often fly reluctantly when they have comfortably adjusted themselves for a night’s rest. The pointer or setter may also draw very close to them then, generally doing it with greater precision than when they are more scattered about, the evening hours being more favorable for strong scent and accurate pursuit. Were not dogs trained to such stanchness as is required in shooting, they could easily, at such juncture, spring in and capture, as indeed some par- tially trained dogs will do under the circumstances. In the States of greatest bird abundance, as in Ar- kansas, Mississippi, etc., and where there are many ragweed fields, very destructive shooting often takes place near the twilight hours, when the birds have set- tled themselves for their slumbers. When the dog points the bevy the shooter places himself at the proper distance from the roost to obtain the best scatter of the shot. Then the huddled birds, being flushed, swarm up loosely together, for three or four feet, when the shooter takes a snap shot at them, and often does nearly as much damage as if he had potted them on the ground. It is hardly necessary to add that this practice is disapproved by all true sportsmen. In Minnesota, Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and other prairie States, the quail readily adapts itself to the QUAIL SHOOTING 339 local peculiarities of the different sections, utilizing such slight advantages as may offer, as hedges, fences, the cover with which most streams are fringed, or high weeds. The quail sadly needs cover for its protection, its destroyers being both of air and earth—hawks, foxes, cats, dogs—and the eggs, too, fall a prey to the rapa- cious appetites of some of its enemies. In the South the cur dogs of the negroes—every family owning one or more, all kept in a kind of half-famished condition— prowl through the fields seeking for food; they are the very worst of egg destroyers. Were the quail not so hardy and prolific, its fate would be swift, and extermination certain. The negroes’ dogs seem to be almost omnivorous. In the fall they may be seen making daily visits to some persimmon tree, under which they eat the fallen fruit with apparent relish. Those which have some claim to hound blood are not averse to making a meal in the corn field, on corn when it is in the milky stage. With such rapacious enemies to contend against, the destruction of the quail must be great, but in addi- tion to all that, many are trapped and netted, methods which destroy whole bevies at a time. But to return to the matter of the quail’s habitat: in certain parts of the South, as in the oak woods in sections of Alabama, Texas, Arkansas, or in the pine woods of Louisiana, Mississippi, etc., the quail may live wholly in the woods, food, always a first consid- eration, being there secured in abundance. 34a AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING In cover, some of the shooting is easy and some of it very difficult, though hardly ranking in difficulty with ruffed grouse shooting. The quail is neither so wary nor so wild as the ruffed grouse. Shooting in some parts of the pine woods is almost as easy shoot- ing as shooting in the open, the ground being bare except for its covering of dry pine needles. The smooth trunks of the pine trees, standing several yards apart, and free from limbs for thirty or forty feet. offer no serious obstacle to the shooting. In other sections of the pine woods, where the growth of the trees is more stunted, and the limbs grow from near the ground up, the difficulty of the shooting is second to none, and in some sections is almost prohibitive. Again, there are sections wherein the quails live on the open prairie, as in parts of Arkansas, and, the shooting being strictly open, it much resembles chicken shooting, excepting the difference in the size and speed of the two birds, the quail being much the quicker to get away at the start. The quail makes its flight in the open prairie, alighting near any little bit of shrub- bery, be it no more than a bush or two of sumach, which, by the way, grows here and there on the prairie in Arkansas. In the woods, when pursued, it fre- quently takes to the tree-tops for safety, where it is hidden indeed. On warm days, or when there has been a long spell of pleasant weather, it is far less wild than when the weather has been stormy, or when there has been a sudden change from warm to cold. Such changes add to the difficulty of the shooting. QUAIL SHOOTING 341 In the North, the quail makes its home where some buckwheat or other grain field is available for a food supply. It so arranges its haunts that it has some cover within easy flight, in the densest part of which it seeks safety when flushed, not refusing the heavily timbered swamps if too much persecuted by the shooter. In such places it has an excellent chance of escape from pursuit, or may foil its pursuer by simply run- ning away; or, if pressed to take flight, it has many chances for safety owing to the difficulty of shooting accurately in the dense cover. New England shooting is the most difficult of all quail shooting, excepting, perhaps, shooting in the dense pines and cat briers of the South. Then, to have any satisfactory success, the scattered birds must be diligently followed and sought in the thickets, be they ever so dense. In this respect it differs from shooting in the sections of more abundance, where such close attention to the scattered birds is unneces- sary, either for sport or the interest of the bag. In the South, where there is an abundance of birds, comparatively, the sportsman rarely tarries with a bevy which gives him any special difficulty. It is much easier, and more satisfactory, to go on and seek more birds. For this reason, even under favorable oppor- tunities, the scattered birds are never, as a rule, hunted till the last one is flushed, and flushed again, when it is possible, as in the North. In New England, buckwheat fields are the quails’ choicest resorts for food, and any adjacent brush, or 342 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING long grass of swamp or upland, or the skirts of woods, afford the shelter and protection that they need or seek. No doubt the birds become wilder in the North than in the South, for, first of all, the inclement weather of the North tends to make them so, and there is a much more relentless pursuit of them by the shooter. The birds being scarce, after the bevy is scat- tered the search continues while there is a hope of finding a single remaining one; and if success with them has been unsatisfactory, the shooter may return later to catch them, when they are whistling to each other in the attempt to come together as a bevy. In the broad plantations of Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Arkansas, etc., a dog of reasonably wide range is necessary, much wider than would be either desirable or useful in New England, or similar sec- tions in respect to cover; for there is much of the country in the South, open and cover, which every- where affords a bountiful food supply, and, therefore, the birds are to be found in the most unexpected places. The cover and cultivated fields of the South do not aid the hunter’s judgment as to quail haunts to the degree that they do in New England shooting. In the latter place there are comparatively few areas in which the birds can get both food and cover together, or even food alone, and the sportsman soon learns to distinguish the favorable places. In the South, in cover and open, there is food in abundance everywhere. There are vast fields, some of which are overgrown with sedge grass, others with weeds, with fields of On point. QUAIL SHOOTING 343 cotton and corn interspersed, any part of which is a fit habitat for the birds; thus, the dog working out such ground in the South can, as a rule, beat out all parts of it with probable success. In the more open grounds of the South the dog can be seen at long dis- tances, so that a wide range is not detrimental in itself, providing that the dog is really working to the gun, and not self-hunting or semi-hunting. As to the manner in which the dog should hunt, no hard and fast rule can be laid down which would apply to all sections. Whatever may be the quail’s abiding place, it learns to make the most of its surroundings in promoting its own safety and interests. It learns whether it is better to fly or run in evading its pursuer, and the best strat- egy to attain that end. If good cover is conveniently near, it may trust to its wings at once for safety, and to its legs and wings if followed into the cover. If the country is open, or with narrow and insuffi- cient cover, as in parts of Louisiana, and other sec- tions where the ground is thoroughly cultivated, it takes a great deal to its legs and cunning devices. In working on such birds the dog must learn to govern his work by the circumstances of it. He might be an excellent performer on quail in the North, and a poor one in the South, or he might be a good one in Mis- sissippi and a poor one in Louisiana, though the pre- sumption is that if he were good in one section he would become so in any other section after the neces- sary experience. 344 ‘AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Many of the plantations of Louisiana are drained by open ditches running parallel at reasonably equal distances from each other, though the distances may vary greatly one field with another and may be 50 or 200 yards, more or less, apart, while other ditches of like arrangement intersect them at right angles; thus a plantation may be cut with more or less regu- larity into small squares surrounded by ditches. Some plantations may be irregularly ditched, while others with a far greater watershed may not be ditched at all. The heavy rains round out the banks of the ditches and their bottoms, and a fringe of weeds and brush, thick and thin in places, strings along the banks and makes a fairly good shelter for the quail. On these land squares are grown cotton, or corn, or nothing, as the case may be, though, if not cultivated, there is always certain to be a good crop of weeds, affording plenty of quail food. When flushed in such places the quail may fly a few yards to the first ditch, or may cross over two or three ditches before finding a place to its liking. As mentioned elsewhere, the state of the weather may greatly affect the quail’s habits. The bevy having gone to the ditches for safety, the dog, to be useful, must have great superiority in roading if he pursues satisfactorily. When in the ditch the birds run swiftly along the bottom. It is almost impossible, at first, to induce the green dog to go into the ditch, or, being in, it is impossible to make him remain there, though it may not be over a foot deep, and dry. The green dog in the pines. ing in Shoot QUAIL SHOOTING 345 will promptly cross out from one side to the other, missing the scent, and accomplishing nothing useful. He does not know what is required of him. But once he catches the idea, he soon improves on it, following carefully along the bottom of the ditch and pointing the scattered birds here and there, every few yards apart, in ones and twos, the shooter having a good opportunity from his position on the outside to kill as the birds fly out. The shooting along ditches is not so easy as one might imagine. Sometimes the birds run swiftly sev- eral hundred yards or more in the ditch, and may then run out and across to other ditches, giving a trail which may try the most experienced dogs to follow. If the birds happen to be near a cotton or corn field, where the ground is bare, and there are no ditches for concealment, they may run so fast and far that the dog may never approach near enough to them to secure a point, and the shooter who is inexperienced in this work will be likely to think that his dog is surely deceiving him. When near the woods, or switch-cane, the birds often take shelter therein, and when in the latter cover it is well to abandon further pursuit of them. In the sugar country, where there may be corn fields here and there among the broad levels of the sugar- cane, the character of the shooting again changes. Many birds will be found in and around the corn fields, and then it is very pretty shooting. It may not be amiss to mention, for the benefit of 346 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING those who shoot in the sugar country for the first time, that they should keep their dogs out of sugar-cane fields as much as possible. The cane, in harvesting, is cut diagonally across with a knife, thus leaving a stump with an edge which will cut a dog’s foot almost as a knife would. It is acommon matter for a dog to split his toes or heel on cane stumps, with the result- ant crippled condition, and no more work from him for a time. In Mississippi, in the midwinter season, the birds stay mostly in the woods. Good shooting may be had in the South from the middle of November to the first of March. Many of the Southern States have a longer legal open season, but the dense cover and warm weather make a natural limitation to the sport. The weather is mild, the birds are strong, and the sport is at its best, in the winter months of the South. Quail shooting, in the main, is close shooting, as to the ranges at which the birds are killed. Most birds drop within twenty-five yards, some much nearer than that. A gun weighing from 6% to 7% pounds is of ample weight. The 12-bore is most commonly used, though the 16 and 20-bores are excellent, and are preferred by many sportsmen. Some shooters use guns of 28 caliber, and are enthusiastic over their work. As a matter of course, the smaller bores may be much lighter than the 12-bore. The 16 and 20-bores being smaller, their killing circle is less, though they shoot with good force in QUAIL SHOOTING 347 comparison with the 12-bore. Closer holding is re- quired to shoot them well. Whichever bore is used, it should not be closely choked. There is no need of a choke bore in quail shooting. It is an extremely difficult matter to induce the average shooter to use an improved cylinder-bore gun. The recommendation to use an open bore seems to be construed as reflecting on his ability to shoot a close gun, instead of being accepted as sound information concerning the gun fit for that particular kind of game. It requires time to effect a reformation concerning the use of the choke bores in quail shooting. The sports- man should go forth equipped for his sport according to his needs, and not to the whimsicalities of senseless fashion. He should not take a full-choked gun in cover, nor a cylinder-bore gun to shoot ducks. There should be intelligent adjustment of means to ends. In- dustry and skill and woodcraft should not be balked by visionary theories and inappropriate weapons. The foregoing is written of the quail as it refers to man’s pleasure afield with dog and gun. Naturally it is not fearful of man, and rather prefers to dwell near his haunts, not from an affection for him, but from the fact that near cultivated sections there is always more food to be found than in the uncultivated. The matter of providing food for itself and its young is quite as constant and insistent in the life of the quail as it is in the life of man. It often nests in or near the cultivated field. Its cheery, ventriloquial whistle, reiterating its favorite 348 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING / utterance, bobwhite, may be heard about the farms, particularly in the morning hours, and bobwhite has come into use to designate the bird itself. Sometimes the call is uttered with a short introductory note, and these, with a few alarm calls, or calls of inquiry when the birds have become scattered, seem to be about all the vocal means of communication which these birds have. In many parts of the South, where the quail are in greater abundance, their sweet notes may be heard in many directions, at many distances, in the early morn- ing and evening hours. These calls work great harm to it, for by them the shooter learns the whereabouts of all the birds in his neighborhood, and locates the haunts of every bevy. , In the fall, the rallying cry often serves to inform the sportsman as to the best course for the morning’s hunt. In the South the quail is called partridge. In the fall, when the shooting opens, the quail soon learns of the gunning dangers, and its habits thereupon change quickly to conform to a life of greater safety, though it will run many risks to be near an abundance of food. However, when danger is impending, it avoids the open much more than when danger is not, and is more alert, quicker to suspect mankind, and quicker to take alarm. When spring returns, the quail seem to lose their fears of man, and they breed with little reference to concealment from him. Their confidence is unimpaired QUAIL SHOOTING 349 till fall approaches, when there is a repetition of all the fears and troubles and dangers of preceding years. He who can average three kills out of six shots, cover and open, is an excellent marksman. The shooter may make a run of ten or twenty straight kills, but soon there are sure to come misses if he does not pick his shots. In winter the shooting is much more diffi- cult than in the fall. Of course, the man who never misses is of the parlor, not of the field. The home of the greater number of the American quails of the extreme southwest or on the Pacific coast is in a country of great aridity. Moreover, much of the vegetation of that country consists of thorny and spiny plants, of which many are cactus, yucca or mesquite. It is evident that over much of this country the use of dogs in shooting these birds would be diffi- cult, if not impracticable. For much of the year the ground is so dry that no scent would lie, and a dog, unless trained for that particular work, would be at a great disadvantage. Moreover, in the swift traveling performed by hunting dogs, as they are trained in the South for field trial work, a dog, in a very short time, would inevitably become crippled by the spines of the cactus, which he could not help constantly running over or into. If to these difficulties we add the fact that the quails seldom or never lie to a dog, but run as hard as they can at the first intimation of danger, endeavoring to get into the thick brush, through which they can thread their way faster than any animal can 350 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING follow them, it will be seen that many of these quail cannot be pursued for sport, as sport is commonly un- derstood ; that is to say, the shooting of a game bird over a pointing dog. This a priori conclusion is con- firmed by statements made by sportsmen who have lived for many years in Arizona, one of whom, Mr. Herbert Brown, not only a sportsman, but a field natur- alist of great ability, tells me that he has never heard of a dog being used on Gambel’s partridge in all the time he has lived in the southwest. Yet Allen Kelly says that in the irrigated districts of the Imperial Valley, Cal., Gambel’s quail lies well where there is cover, but on the bare ground runs like a deer. I have seen the valley quail in southern California and the mountain quail in the Sierras, but have never yet seen either hunted with dogs. That the mountain quail can be shot over dogs is hardly to be doubted, but the case is different with the valley quail living in the lowlands of dry California. On the other hand, in Vancouver Island the introduced valley quail sometimes lies to a dog among the thick undergrowth, much as the eastern quail would lie. When startled they get up in a thick coveys of fifteen or twenty birds and scatter and sometimes lie well. VALLEY QUAIL. Of the California valley quail in the vicinity of Pasadena, N. P. Leach says on this point: “Up here on the mesas and among the sage brush and grease- QUAIL SHOOTING 351 wood in the foothills we use dogs when hunting quail, chiefly for flushing and retrieving, but down on the plains, amid the cactus and low brush, some hunters use both setters and pointers. There, when you flush a covey of quail and shoot in among them or over them, they will very often scatter and then hide under the cactus and lie to point. It is a cruel place to work a dog. The first day that I took my dog down there, he filled his shoulders and breast full of cactus spines. We pulled out most of them, but even then he was in no condition to work for some days. “Over one-half of the quail hunters here do not use a dog, and ninety per cent. of the other half use spaniels for retrieving. The other small minority use either setters or pointers. “When my spaniel flushes a covey, some of them fly my way, so that I am very sure of a double shot, and sometimes an extra double at some of the laggards. Then, as the dog can outrun the birds, he keeps them moving, which often gives me shots at fast-flying birds. I have him so trained that I can control him with my whistle; that is, bring him into heel, where he will remain until I tell him to go.” It is hardly to be doubted that if either the valley, the mountain, or, in fact, Gambel’s quail, were to be introduced in any section where the climate was mild enough, they would, if properly protected, do well and increase. The beautiful valley quail readily adapts itself to confinement, becomes not at all shy, and has been frequently known to build its nest and lay its 352 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING eggs. We do not know that any have been reared, but no doubt this might readily enough be done, were proper care exercised. GAMBEL’S QUAIL Dr. Coues, in an article in the Jbis many years ago, said of the shooting of this bird in its home: “Compared with the eastern quail (O. virginianus), from the sportsman’s standpoint, Gambel’s plumed quail is more difficult to kill. Not that it rises with more startling suddenness, or flies faster, for I noticed no material differences in these respects; but when a bevy is flushed, and one, or at most two, birds secured, it is exceedingly difficult, and usually only by chance, that other shots are obtained; for except under certain cir- cumstances, they lie very badly, and when they drop after being for the first time started it is, usually, not to squat and remain hidden, but to run as fast and far as possible; so that, if found at all, it will be dozens of yards from where they were marked down. This pro- pensity to run, which is also a great obstacle to their being flushed within proper distance, is exceedingly troublesome both to the sportsman and his dog; so much so, that the best trained dogs can often be of lit- tle or no service. It is true that this habit of running affords many shots on the ground, and often places the whole bevy directly under fire, but no true sports- man would thus ingloriously fill his bag by potting a bevy of such noble game birds. Like all their tribe, QUAIL SHOOTING 353 their flight is exceedingly rapid and vigorous, but it is always even and direct, so that it only requires a very quick hand and eye, and the usual intuitive calcu- lation for cross shots, to kill them readily. Notwith- standing all I have heard to the contrary, I consider them far from being tough birds, and No. 8 shot is abundantly large enough for them. The fault in most cases, I presume, is with the shooter rather than the shot. I may add that many of the places in which bevies are found would compare unfavorably with the worst woodcock brake of the Eastern States as regards facilities for obtaining a fair shot. I have had a bevy flushed all around me and hardly caught a glimpse of a feather. But these, and all other difficulties, should only increase one’s ardor and confer additional value on the lovely birds when obtained.’ MOUNTAIN QUAIL. In the California Mountains, near various hill towns, the mountain quail are often abundant, and late in October, or early in November, after rain, or snows turning to rain, we have occasionally started coveys which, flying for no great distance, would pitch down and lie so close that they could be walked up by a gunner and a few good shots had. In such situations, and at a time when the ground was moist enough to make the scent lie well, I should expect to have good shooting with a careful dog. In the dry West, however, conditions for shooting 354 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING differ so widely from those which prevail in the more humid East that it will probably take a long time for gunners and dogs to work out a system, at once ‘agreeable and effective, for shooting these game birds. Dr. Elliot declares that many are shot over dogs, but that far more are trapped and netted. The situation is still more difficult when birds of the extremely dry country of Arizona and New Mexico are in question, though, as will be seen further on, Mearns’ quail appears in quite a different category. SCALED QUAIL. Of his attempts to shoot the scaled, or blue quail, Dr. Coues says: “This species is a bird of noticeably terrestrial hab- its, rarely taking to trees or bushes unless hard pressed in one of those extremities into which some people are fond of forcing any birds large enough to be worth a charge of shot, and wary enough to make it exciting sport to penetrate their poor bodies with it. It generally trusts to its legs rather than its wings, though these are not at all deficient in size or strength. On level ground it glides along with marvelous celerity, and makes good progress over the most rocky and difficult places. As a consequence, it is rather diff- cult to shoot fairly, though it may be ‘potted’ in great style by one so disposed; and it will probably require several generations in training before it can be taught to lie well to a dog. I am inclined to think, indeed, QUAIL SHOOTING 355 that the lying of quail, an essential feature for the chase in its perfection, is almost as much a result of education, as the ‘pointing’ that the intelligent brute who helps us kill them has learned. In a primitive and strictly natural condition, quail, as a general rule, rather use their legs to escape pursuit than squat and attempt to hide. That the reverse is the case with the Virginia quail, I am perfectly aware, but this proves nothing to the contrary, and I am inclined to think its crouch- ing, till almost trodden upon, to be an acquired trick. This would surely be a poor way of escape from any of its natural enemies—any carnivorous bird or mam- mal; yet they find it to succeed so well against their chief persecutor, that he has had to call in the aid of a sharper-sighted, sharper-nosed brute than himself, else he might stumble over stubble-fields all day with- out seeing a bird, except by accident. I presume that Virginia quail in the days of Captain Smith and Poca- hontas were very much in the social status of the Arizonian to-day; and these certainly trust to their legs and wings rather than to the artifice of thrusting their heads in tufts of grass and then fancying they are safe.” Dr. D. G. Elliott, a sportsman of long experience, has this to say about the habits of the blue quail when pursued : “This bird runs with great speed and seems to be able to keep it up for a long distance, and flies with much reluctance, alighting almost immediately and be- ginning to run at once. When compelled to take wing, 356 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING it rises with the usual whir-r-r, and proceeds on a slightly curved line, rather straight ahead, and if, on alighting, it should stop for a moment, it is almost at once under the cover of some cactus or other low bush, which affords a place of concealment; and from which it can watch its pursuer, before starting to run again. “A dog is practically useless for hunting the scaled partridge, for if he is well broken and attempts to point a covey, the birds will run several hundred yards, while he is standing, and then will add several hundred more while he is trailing them, and the poor animal becomes bewildered and disgusted and is apt to run also. I know nothing so trying to the patience of a sportsman as the tactics of this species, unless it be the similar habits of other crested quail. As a rule, this species was not very much hunted in the localities I met with it, and it always seemed to me rather singular that they should be so wary, for that is an attribute that wild creatures usually acquire, after having made the acquaintance of man and learned that his presence always brought wounds and death, and that safety to themselves was only to be obtained by leaving his vicinity as soon as possible. But these birds seem instinctively to have ascertained this fact before they ever saw a human being, and decamp at once whenever a man appears.” QUAIL SHOOTING S57 MEARNS’ QUAIL. With Mearns’ quail the case is quite different. This bird, while not at all shy, possesses markedly swift flight, and lies exceedingly close. Dr. L. C. Frick, who has had much experience in shooting them in New Mexico, considers them a better game bird than bobwhite. In shooting them he uses pointer dogs, which have proved very efficient. Dr. Frick believes that if this bird could be introduced into the Mississippi Valley and the country east of it, it would at once become enormously popular as a game bird. He mentions as a great point in favor of this species, that when the birds rise the sexes can always be distinguished, and that therefore cocks may be se- lected for killing and the hens preserved. He believes that the males greatly exceed the females in number, and that therefore it is practicable to do a good deal of shooting without lessening the productive power of the birds in a particular district. The eggs are given by Captain Bendire as eight or ten in number, but, on the other hand, Mr. Nelson, who has been much in the range of these birds, says: ‘ “T have never seen the Massena partridge in coveys larger than would be attributed to a pair of adults with a small brood of young. Frequently a pair raise but three or four, and I do not remember having ever seen more than six or seven of these birds in a covey.” Mearns’ quail is odd in appearance and odd in habits, but one of its chief peculiarities seems to be that in 358 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING a country where all the quail take to their heels and run like race-horses, it alone, when it pitches down, lies hard, and will let the dogs get up close to it before flushing. We do not understand that the birds are particularly hard to hit. Though they fly swiftly, the shooting is usually open, and only reasonable quickness is required to hit the bird. SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE. RUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING. Dwelling in many sorts of country, sometimes, as in the East, where it is constantly pursued, cunning to the last degree, and practicing every stratagem; or again, in the wild regions, dreading only its natural enemies, and thus fearless and bold, and trusting wholly to strength of wing, the ruffed grouse is killed in many ways and under varying conditions. Where it is ignorant of firearms or of the danger from man, it permits half a dozen shots to be fired at it at close range, or sometimes may even be noosed from its perch on a limb by a bit of string tied to the end of a pole. A graphic account of ruffed grouse shooting in a region where they had been little disturbed, yet were not wholly tame, was contributed to Forest and Stream many years ago by that charming writer and good sportsman, Mr. T. S. Van Dyke. In those days ruffed grouse were abundant in the region referred to, as, in fact, they have been up to comparatively recent times in that country, as well as in certain sections of Michi- gan, where, within only a few years, we have heard of from twenty-five to thirty birds being killed in a day by two guns. We give the substance of Mr. Van Dyke’s account as follows: 359 360 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Who that has heard the somber shades of the dense pine forest throb beneath the strokes of his hoarse re- sounding wing, or in the autumn woods has seen him flash for an instant amid the hues of crimson and gold, or pierce like a shaft of light the dark green of the cat-brier swamp, can ever forget the ruffed grouse? What sportsman can forget the feelings with which he has heard his drum-beat echo from the dark moun- tain side, or through the bursting woods of spring, or in those soft, still autumn days when the leaves are falling through the mellow haze of Indian summer, or, as sometimes heard, in the noon of night, in the depths of the forest primeval? Few pictures hang more bright in the inner chamber of the sportsman’s soul than the broad fanlike tail spread along his path as he treads the trail of the deer, or its dark bands shining on the carpet of checkered leaves or sweeping over the mossy carpet of wintergreen or vanishing in the heavy green of the laurel brake. Not even the majestic woodcock, with his solemn dignity; not bobwhite, with his sweet, graceful ways and artless beauty; not the brilliant but erratic little genius of the boggy meadow; not the noble turkey, with his beamy bronze and bearded breast, can raise such tender memories as this grouse. For all these must be sought, and often sought in vain, in their native haunts. But the ruffed grouse is a more famil- iar spirit, and many a time plays across the sports- man’s path when wandering over the sapling-clad slope where the autumn woodcock lies in the full bloom “Nour Ur pItq WIA Zunurod 1aya¢ SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 361 of life and fatness, or when following bobwhite through the hazel thicket, or when roaming from pond to pond in search of ducks among the vine-clad arbors of the river bottom. And often the hunter of the deer sees him strut before him as he sits resting on a fallen log, and often, when on the trail of the deer in winter, sees him shake the snow from his lightning wings, as, bursting from its cover, the bird goes whizzing away amid the snow-draped trees. Few of those who most love this noble bird have ever seen him in the simplicity of youth, before he has left his mother’s side and gone forth to roam alone the spangled shades of the rugged mountain side or the somber shrubbery of the tangled glen. For his hearthstone is too often in the dense mass of sum- mer’s wealth, and few are the eyes that can follow him into the deep, dark brake or into the shaggy cov- ering of the mountain’s breast, until autumn’s frosts have tattered their gay banners and trailed their green ‘glory in the dust. For certainty of finding this grouse at home in his early days, with comfort in hunting him, few places have ever equaled the bluff regions of the upper Mis- sissippi. Here this grouse lived and loved, and stayed until long after the autumn leaves were scattered on a thousand winds; and even after the deep snows of winter fell upon his early playground many a one re- mained instead of seeking the covers of the bottom lands. Here he may be found while the trees stand in the full green of summer and before any hue of 362 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING death has touched their shining heads. Years ago these bluffs were studded from base to crest with large oak trees, scattered more or less along the slopes, and more abundant and dense of foliage around the sides and heads of the numerous ravines. Where they hap- pened to fall, the rich verdure of the white birch gen- erally filled their places, and in the bottoms of the ra- vines and along the base of the slopes the crab-apple and wild plum and scrub oak formed abundant cover. Everywhere along the hills the ground below the trees was densely carpeted with green, upon which the sun- light flittered in a thousand shades through the open- ings in the leaves above. And yet the walking was always good, and the view generally free in all direc- tions beneath. It was one of the fairest days in 1867 that, with a friend and two dogs, I first roamed these pleasant shades and found my old friend in a new kind of home. From nearly the foot of the bluffs, where the outer guard of soft maple and white-oak saplings be- gan to encroach on the black oak of the hills, to very near the top, where the birch was flying its bright green flag from its snowy staff, the dogs were soon racing to and fro, while we were strolling along be- hind them, half way up the hillside. We soon came to a shallow ravine where the ferns and the prairie grass that covered the ground were taller and greener, and the shade of the black oak and maple was deeper and cooler than on the rest of the hillside. The elder dog, named Jack, had hunted such ground before and SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 363 seemed to know all about such places, and at once started up the leeward side of the ravine with slow and cautious trot, while the younger, named Frank, seemed to have an inttition that the other dog knew more than he did, and slowed down his pace to about the same. And soon Jack’s trot subsided to a walk as his nose caught the faint breeze that played over the shady side of the hollow, and his tail slackened its lashing motion and settled down to a slow wavy swing. Quietly he moved along, with nose upraised just above the deep green of the ferns and prairie grass and the bright golden hue of the lady-slippers and the carmine of the wild peas, raising it from time to time still higher, with inquiring sniff, and swinging steadily off to the leeward so as to keep the breeze fairly in his nose all the time. And soon the old dog’s tail began to straighten and the joints of his legs to stiffen, and he turned his head slowly from side to side, and snuffed the air more cautiously as he moved, more and more slowly, along. And all the time Frank coming up the other slope, some hundred yards away, with eyes fixed intently upon Jack, imitating all his movements, even more strongly than if he had smelt something himself, instead of taking Jack’s word for it. Suddenly Jack stops, and as suddenly Frank does the same, and at the same instant a line of mingled white, black and gray, with roaring wings enveloping the whole in a haze of brown, bursts from the rank ferns some ten yards ahead of the dog and darts like an arrow through the green arcade. 364 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING Bang-whang go two barrels of the guns almost to- gether, a feather parts from the long, outspread fan behind the booming wings, and in a second more the brown streak fades among the distant trees. B-b-b-b-b goes another from almost the same place, almost before the first one is out of sight, and bang goes one barrel of each gun exactly together, and a cloud of feathers floats from the downward whirling bird, while with boisterous b-b-b-b-b seven or eight more birds rise, curling, flashing, darting and whizzing from the ferns in all directions. But Jack seems to have no anxiety about the birds that have fallen, and after going cautiously a few steps forward, stops again, with slowly waving tail. Care- fully he moves along, sniffing daintily at the air on high, and swinging off occasionally to one side so as to catch the full breeze, then, as he advances a few paces beyond where the other birds had risen, his limbs and tail gradually stiffen, until he again becomes quite rigid, with Frank, on the other side of the ravine, imi- tating all his motions almost as accurately as if the two were connected by an electric wire. As we come up to him he suddenly relaxes, moves off a few yards to one side again, and then, with nose high upraised and body sunk low in the grass, he crawls forward a few feet, in shape more like an alli- gator than a dog, and then comes again to a standstill. As we advance a little in front of the dog three grouse burst roaring from the ferns some twenty feet ahead of us and dart away in different directions. One SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 365 whirls downward out of a cloud of feathers; another changes his course at the report of another gun, and mounts skyward through the tree-tops; the third, dash- ing the sunshine from his glistening wings, scuds away through an open place, with the guns belching flame and smoke vainly at the place he had just left; while the one that had mounted above the trees, poising for a second aloft, closes his wings and descends with a heavy thump to the earth. The fallen birds retrieved, we went on to find the scattered birds. Some three hundred yards we wan- dered along, and suddenly Frank began to dawdle in his pace. With gently oscillating tail, he sniffed in- quisitively at the breeze that swept up the hillside from the long ravine below. To our senses it was laden with the fragrance of ferns and wild buckwheat and wild peas and white clover, with wild rose and mint; but the dog smelt something more, for he stiddenly stopped with the quickness of thought, and at the same instant a grouse broke, with uproarious wing, from the deep green cover, some fifteen feet from his nose. Two charges of shot shivered the blended white and green of the birch behind which he disappeared, the air throbbed no more beneath the beat of his hoarse wings, and a faint nebula of fine feathers drifted into sight on one side of the tree. Up and down the hill again both dogs were soon beating the ground. In about five minutes Jack, com- ing down the hill on a gentle canter, dropped into the grass as suddenly as if shot, and lay there with only 366 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the tip of his nose visible above the ferns. As we came to him a bird rose like a rocket, only a yard from the dog, and whizzed upward as if bound for the stars. My triend’s first barrel decimated the banded feathers of its broad, outspread tail, and he caught it with his second barrel as it was speeding its bobtailed career high among the branches of the old oak trees. As it fell, another bustled, with riotous hubbub, almost from the same spot from which the last one rose, and wheel- ing, with its breast, mottled with black and white, in full view, cleft the breeze so fast that the shot from my gun was held back by the resistance of the air waves. At least that was my theory then, and it ought to suffice at this lapse of time. Some ten minutes passed away, and we found Frank anchored apparently to a stump in a little ravine far up the hillside, with Jack indorsing his draft on our confidence with his most statuesque attitude, about thirty yards behind him. The birch was waving in the breeze above him, and the ferns were swaying gently below his nose, the raspberries and blackberries were still bright on the bushes in the ravine, and the young caks were as green as in the spring, but other signs of life there were “none. We threw stones in ahead of the dog, but nothing moved. We tried to urge the dog to flush them, but he would not budge. At the risk of losing a shot I went in, for the ravine was deep and steep-sided. A few feet ahead of the dog I slipped and fell, and in a twinkling the sky above me seemed alive with roaring wings and meteors SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 367 of white and black and brown mixed in a whirl that made the air tremble even more than the thunder of my companion’s gun, which was spouting flame and smoke above my head. When I recovered myself I found that four birds had made all the uproar, and that my friend had pacified two of them. The grouse were so scattered that it was better to search for a new flock than to try to find the single birds that had flown far up and down the hillsides. So we moved along several hundred yards until we came to a broad-bottomed ravine. Along the hills near its head the oaks stood larger and closer than before, the ferns were brighter, longer and greener, the birches were taller, and maples and aspens were jostling them aside. A soft fragrance of wild honey and thyme haunted the dark, cool shades, and everything hinted strongly of the favorite home of the ruffed grouse. Old Jack at once took the hint, and with gingerly tread went marching up the bottom of the ravine, with nose aloft and slowly undulating tail. Though he had yet smelt nothing, the spirit of the place whispered grouse so strongly that his fancy kept him on a half point from the start, just as many a good old dog’s imagination makes him change his pace the instant he enters a dark, damp swamp, where everything breathes the magic word, woodcock. And even Frank seemed enthralled by the cool, green, silent shades, and threaded the birchen bowers and the beds of fern with more than usual care. But Jack went far up the hill several times, and came 368 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING trudging back, looking somewhat dispirited; and Frank, after making his way as often up and down through the ferns, seemed as badly muddled; yet both seemed to think there must be game there. We passed around the head of the ravine, over ground that seemed especially made for grouse to spend the day in, but they seemed to have that provoking trait that game often exhibits, of ignoring the fine places you pick out for it and preferring to make its.own selection. Further down the ravine, below where the scrub oaks and ma- ples and aspens broke into the heavier black oak that robed most of the hills, and where the bottom widened out into a little valley, lay a long thicket of crab-apple and wild plum, edged with black haw and hazel where it broke into the oak and maple of the hills. Knowing that the birds ranged low as well as high, along these hills, we went to it. The dogs soon disappeared within the dense green shrubbery, and naught was heard of them in a minute or more but the light rustle of their feet. And not another minute seemed to pass away before that, too, ceased. Leaving my friend on the outside, where he would be able to get a shot at anything that came out, I went into the thicket. There stood Jack, bent like a bow, with tail and jowl nearly parallel, as he had evidently thrown himself with a sudden whirl, upon striking the scent from one side. And a few yards behind him, half hidden in the deep green, stood Frank, with the solemnity of a tombstone on a winter night. As I stopped behind Jack there was a bewildering burst of SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 369 uproarious wings, and a dozen or more birds went darkling through the green, some wheeling out of the top, some scudding straight away, some darting low toward the edges. Quick as a flash I dropped on one knee and sent a charge through the leaves where one’s fanlike tail was vanishing on a sharp curve as I raised the gun. But by the time the shot reached there it was gone, and by the time I discovered it was gone the rest were all gone. But dimly through an opening I could see my friend on the hillside, with half a dozen grouse swiftly driving toward him. One went past him like an arrow feathered with white and brown, and was gone before he could raise his gun. Another, whirling into sight above the brush, with its full white breast, broadly mottled with black, brightly flashing in the sun, just a trifle too late for me to shoot at, went spinning by him with unruffled feathers at the report of his gun. And then five or six more went roaring on past, and above and behind him, while he, in con- fusion, shifting his gun from one side to the other, and hardly knowing what to shoot at, let them all go by, and stood as if looking for more to come. Few American sportsmen have had so much expe- rience in upland shooting as Mr. B. Waters, whose excursions have covered the game fields of almost the whole United States east of the Rocky Mountains. Famous as a handler of hunting dogs, and equally fa- mous as a crack shot, both at the traps and in the field, his views on the shooting of any game bird will receive respectful attention, for he is past master of the art. 370 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING This is what he has to say about ruffed grouse shooting : From the time when the mind of man runneth not to the contrary in matters of shooting for sport, the ruffed grouse, by common consent, has been classed with the most difficult of game birds which the sports- man endeavors to bring to bag under the approved conditions of sportsmanship, if indeed it be not the most difficult of all. For it taxes the sportsman’s nerve, patience, skill, woodcraft and endurance as no other bird can tax them; and all these requirements are necessarily supplemented by a gun of good killing powers, one selected with special reference to cover shooting; and last, but not least, a dog of more than ordinary intelligence and good intent and good train- ing, if the sport is to have any successful results and pleasing finish in its action. If any element of the sportsman’s ruffed grouse craft be missing success is marred accordingly. The ruffed grouse, in every art and article, is a bird to fill the sportsman’s ideal. Its habitat is in nature’s most picturesque setting; the bird is beautiful in its delicate tracings and markings, and rich and varied in its colorings; racy of form and faultless in sym- metry; wild, dashing, daring, alert, and infinitely re- sourceful in its crafty devices when pursued; exclu- sive in its habits, and, withal, a bird of rare excellence for the table, its flesh being of a delicate texture and pleasing flavor—so palatable, indeed, that it is by many epicures more highly prized than is the flesh of any SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 371 other game bird. With those who may vaunt the ex- cellence of the woodcock, the snipe, the prairie chicken, the duck, the turkey, etc., it also holds a high place in their esteem; and the exceptional man, whose fancy for one particular kind of bird prejudices him against all others, will not speak unkindly of it. And yet, delicious as it is when properly prepared for the table, it can easily be spoiled by ill cooking, and of bad cooks there is no end. The art of cooking it properly is as rare as is the skill of killing it properly. If it be cooked too much, or if it be cooked improperly, it loses much of its rich delicacy of flavor and texture, and becomes dry and unpalatable; and in that unfortunate condi- tion it probably was, when that eminent authority, Wil- son, partook of it, and thereafter, in his ‘““American Ornithology,” wrote of it: “At these inclement sea- sons, however, they are generally lean and dry, and, indeed, at all times their flesh is far inferior to that of the quail or of the pinnated grouse.”” Yet, as tastes are not all alike, the superlative will probably be placed according to the individual fancy in matters of food, as in all other matters, and it is well that it is so. If all fancied alike, all would be monotony. Nevertheless, a man who cannot have a culinary spell cast over him by a skilfully cooked ruffed grouse, it having been kept a proper length of time after killing—not too long— has no music in his soul, and may not even be fit for treason and spoils. The ruffed grouse chooses rough and timbered sec- tions, for it is strictly a bird of the woods and thick- 372 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ets, preferring the roughest parts of a hilly or moun- tainous country, and of these it many times selects the densest recesses, or the timber of seamy and rocky hillsides, or where ledges, fallen tree-trunks and tree- tops in the woods, secluded from man, guard against intrusion, and even the timbered swamps are not ob- noxious to it. For man it has the most uncompromising aversion. It selects its home in the places least frequented by him, though once the home is determined on it holds to it with dauntless persistency, let the gunner disturb it as often as he may. In choosing its habitat it prefers that it be near a supply of good water and an abundance of good food, for it is a good feeder. Whortleberries, blackberries, beechnuts, acorns, chestnuts, partridge berries and buds are readily accepted as food in their proper season. The bud of the laurel is said to render the flesh poisonous for food purposes, though the belief seems to rest more on tradition than on any direct evidence. Unlike the quail, which prefers to make its home near the homes of man, and the prairie chicken, which sticks closely to the grain field, the ruffed grouse is ever in- tent on choosing its home and haunts distinctly apart from those of man. In the East it is called “par- tridge’”’; in sections of Pennsylvania and the South, “pheasant.” In the breeding season, when it has been free from pursuit and harassing alarms, it sometimes strays a short distance from cover into the adjacent fields, SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 373. where grow palatable huckleberries and blackberries, though rarely venturing further than a short flight, and often but a few yards from cover. Though always a wary bird, and ever avoiding man, it is not so wild and quick to take wing before the frost and unsettled weather of fall set in as it is afterward; yet if the gunner disturb it once or twice, the full wildness of its nature, and its constant alertness to avoid man, are fully and permanently aroused. Then man and the places he frequents are shunned as much as possible. Indeed, it is not a social bird with its own kind. After the young birds have matured they separate, and in the fall the gunner will find them in ones and twos, and at rare times in threes. Given to the sportsman the conditions of an open field, and therein a ruffed grouse on the wing, within range, then the difficulties of killing it are but little, if any, greater than those which obtain in the killing of a prairie chicken on the open prairie; though whether in open or cover, the ruffed grouse is always swift and decisive in its flight. But in the open, whether it be on field or prairie, there is an even light and an unobstructed view. Then, for safety, the bird can rely only on its swiftness of wing, all too slow when pitted against the sportsman who can, under those circum- stances, with studied quickness and deliberation, com- mand a large circle around him. Thus the ruffed grouse is at a fatal disadvantage when shot at in the open field, as is also every other bird pursued under the same conditions; but these conditions are rare in- 374 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING deed in ruffed grouse shooting, for, as mentioned be- fore, it ventures into the open only on such infrequent eccasions as it is tempted to search therein for food, and then only in places seldom invaded by man, where it fancies there is freedom from pursuit. To all fixed habits there seems to be an exception for a short pe- riod in the fall, when it is subject to a crazy wayward- ness. While in the open field it is strong and swift of wing, in cover it is at its best. It will, on occasion, dash through the densest thickets with apparent ease, with no diminution of its swiftest speed, seemingly having a charmed manner of flying through tree-tops and thickets as if they were but phantom trees of the woodland, or shadows offering no obstruction to its onward flight. And in its favorite haunts it is a master of self- defense. It can utilize thickets, trees, old fences, ledges, stone walls, swift wings and endless cunning to evade its pursuer. Be the position of the shooter what it may in reference to this bird in cover, it, when flushed, takes instant advantage of the nearest thicket or the trunk of a tree or old fence, keeping one or the other between itself and the gunner in its line of flight, thus in a great measure blocking all opportunity to shoot, or at least hampering the shooter greatly, and oftentimes causing a miss. The bird, in most instances, times its rise so as to have the advantage of some nearby object as a shield to its flight. On occasion it will display a courage SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 375 bordering on audacity, permitting the shooter to pass close by, and flushing after he is some yards further onward. This wile is oftenest practiced after it has been flushed, marked down and pursued. Both man and dog are apt to pass it then, though they may fol- low in the exact line of flight. The shooter may hear the irritating roar of the bird’s wings behind him, on ground but a moment before passed over, or catch a shadowy glimpse as it dashes away from some tree- top. Owing to its short flights and its proneness to take a straight, or nearly straight line, the persistent shooter may be able to mark and flush the bird again and again. It sometimes, in repeated flights, returns to near the place where it was first found, and it always takes the flights so that ground and cover are to its advantage in avoiding danger. Once in a while a foolish bird will be found, which will do the very thing it ought not to do, commonly paying for the lapse with its life; so that if there is anything in the theory of heredity, the ruffed grouse should be uniformly of high capabilities, the fool birds being killed promptly, and never breeding. By far the greater part of the shooting is at close range, as it needs must be in thicket or woods, where the longest views are short, and obstructed by trees or ledges or the undergrowth or the hilly nature of the ground, where in the early season the view may not be greater than a few yards or feet, if the leaves have not fallen. 376 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING It then is not an infrequent occurrence that the shooter will hear the startling whir of wings close by him, and yet be unable to shoot or to mark the bird’s course, from inability to see the bird at all. The light of the woods, broken and broken again, as it is through the irregular openings in the tree-tops, and branches and leaves interposing, with here and there shafts of clear light, and masses of shadows interspersed every- where, tends to interfere with quick and clear vision, and adds to the difficulty of accurate shooting, thus differing widely from shooting in the open. The successful ruffed grouse shooter must be ever promptly ready to shoot, and further, must be quick of eye and action. He must instantly decide on the manner of making the shot, taking advantage of all the few opportunities offered, and avoiding the ob- structions which interpose. No studied effort at aim- ing is possible. Cover shooting of all kinds requires quick action, but ruffed grouse shooting requires the quickest. Of all snap shooting, ruffed grouse shoot- ing is the snappiest, and the successful shooter of that bird must excel in that kind of shooting, since in most cases he will have but a brief instant’s glimpse of the bird in the unfavorable mixed lights of shadows and cover. For this shooting the gun should be light, short of barrel—z26 to 28 inches—and a cylinder bore, for a full choked barrel is entirely out of place in such cover shooting, equally unsatisfactory when it does or does ‘a8poH “Wy ‘QO Aq paydesz0,04g “UOHBISaUIOp UI paver yI09 asnoIg payny Sy EO s ; ee te SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 377 not kill, it being a miss in the first instance, and often a badly mutilated bird in the second. The average shooter will find that he has success far below his opportunities, even when equipped with the gun most fitting for the work. In this shooting there is no waiting for opportunities to fit the gun. The successful hunter must take the shots that are offered, and as they are offered; it matters not how difficult they appear or how brief the opportunities may be. He may catch but a momentary glimpse of the bird as it crosses some diminutive opening, or he may see it for an instant in a maze of leaves and branches, or he may get a partial glimpse of it and some dis- turbed leaves in the course of its flight, yet these are the opportunities which are the most numerous, and which must be relied on for the bulk of the shooting ; in short, that is ruffed grouse shooting. If the shooter be too indolent or apathetic to be ever ready to shoot, or if he is too slow to take advantage of the opportunities, his success will be but meager so far as material results are concerned, though he may be greatly encouraged by the belief that his last ill success was due to faults in the bird, and that if he can have another opportunity he will acquit himself nicely. The opportunity comes, and failure again evokes more excuses. Once in rare whiles the shooter will have a good opportunity, catching the bird in some corner so favorable that the advantage is with the shooter; but such instances are rare indeed, and by themselves would make but little sport. 378 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING To be ready for the opportunities the sportsman must be quiet, and never relax his vigilance, and his gun must be so held that it can instantly be brought into position to shoot. The nerves of the shooter must be constantly at a high tension in readiness for the rise of the bird and the instantaneous shot. Every faculty must be at a high key. The very moment that the shooter relaxes his attention will be the moment that the bird will rise, and before the sportsman can get ready the opportunity is gone. It will be seen that the man who dawdles with his gun, who is slow in the handling of it, or who is noisy, cannot hope for any satisfactory success in shooting the bird of game birds, the ruffed grouse. On the other hand, he can be keyed up to too high a pitch, overready when the bird rises. A nervous flurry does nearly as much to disar- range the desired results as does the more indolent dawdling. There are those, however, who can never overcome the nervous start at the roar of the bird’s wings, though they may be perfectly undisturbed in any other bird shooting. And the skill of the shooter, be it ever so high in degree, must be supplemented by the work of a quiet, well trained, industrious, intelligent dog, for the shooter is much better off without any dog at all than with one that is riotous or one that ranges too far or that is heedless of his work. Loud orders to the dog have no place in ruffed grouse shooting. The sports- man himself cannot observe too great a silence. The human voice alarms and puts the birds to flight. SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 379 The work required of the dog in this shooting is dis- tinctly different from that required in any other kind of bird shooting, except, perhaps, woodcock shooting, which in a way it resembles, though a higher degree of dog intelligence and obedience are required, as the ruffed grouse is far more cunning and wary than the woodcock, The “partridge dog” should not work far from the gun in cover, and he should be silent and diligent in his quest. Many experienced shooters highly com- mend the use of a small bell tied to the dog’s collar, its low tinkling constantly indicating the dog’s where- abouts in the thick cover; and generally, when the bell stops, it indicates that the dog is on point, thus in a way keeping the shooter posted by ear as to his dog’s doings and whereabouts. The rattle-headed, highly nervous dog, or the one which gallops swiftly and merrily about, is distinctly out of place in this kind of shooting. The esthetic shooter, whose dog must carry a high head and a tail lashing his sides merrily as he gallops and bounds about in the ecstasy of his enjoyment, as the dogs many times do in the idealists’ tales of great work afield, would better take his fiery dog into the open, where he can better disport himself unhampered, and where his pretty ways may be admired without any unpleas- ant interposition of the ruffed grouse. Such manner of the dog’s seeking is incompatible with ruffed grouse shooting, for the shooting should be the dominant fea- ture, not the joyousness of the dog. 380 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING A dog. of fair gait and persistent industry can easily beat out the necessary range, and the one which makes his quest patiently and soberly and quietly, working with judgment and honesty to the gun, will bring the shooter satisfactory success in the results, to say noth- ing of the incomparable comfort and pleasure in shoot- ing over him. Nine out of every ten dogs which are running with high head and merry actions are running because they are in high spirits and for their own pleasure, with no thought of the birds or of work to the gun. When they come on birds this is often a matter of chance, and their point work is marked by deplorable errors. This kind of dog leads his partial master to believe that when he wears off the wildness and wire edge he will steady down to a useful grade of work; but often when such dog has worn off his exuberance he has worn off all there is in him of field performance, and he either loafs, or does his work in the same slov- enly manner, though, loafing, he does less of it. In shooting for sport, the shooter takes his birds on the wing. Of course, in shooting for market, the market shooter has no thought of sport or its prac- tices. His one object is to kill the bird and bring it to bag. The manner of it is of the least importance. His theory and practice are founded on commercial principles; therefore, he shoots his birds as he can, whether they be on the limb of a tree, the ground, or flying. Some hunters have dogs trained to seek for the SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 381 birds, and, finding them, they flush and follow them. When flushed by the dog, the bird generally takes to the trees, and the dog, barking, so engages their atten- tion that they fall an easy prey to the hunter, who often bags every bird in the covey under such circum- stances. Often, when flushed by the dog, they fly to the tree-tops immediately overhead, where, in fancied security, they watch the dog. The shooter then drops them one by one, taking the lowest birds first. The falling of the lowest ones does not disturb those above, though if a top bird is dropped the others fly away forthwith. As to the number a shooter can kill in a day, so much depends on the shooter’s skill, the bird supply, and the local shooting conditions, that these things alone determine it. In some sections of New England, two or three birds at the end of a day of diligent effort is consid- ered a highly successful result, and it is not an infre- quent occurrence in that section that a diligent day may have no birds at all at its ending. In certain sections of New York, Wisconsin, Minne- sota, Dakota, etc., and in the mountain sections where the ruffed grouse abound, such a bag would be consid- ered an absurdity, if held forth as an index to good shooting, industry and superior results. While in North Dakota I have heard of one bag of eighty birds, made to one gun in a day, something extraordinary. They were shot at the air holes along the banks of the Red River, after it had frozen over, 282 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING the birds coming to those places for water. This was not recounted to me as a matter of sport, nor is it so set forth here, but will give an idea of the numbers of the ruffed grouse in the sections where it is in the greatest abundance. But the sportsman who seeks the ruffed grouse for the true sport of it has a more exalted pleasure than comes from shooting any other game bird. First of all, he must be skilful with the gun, and when he shoots, be he ever so skilful, he can only apply such skill as he can muster in a moment, the opportunities of ruffed grouse shooting being but mere fragments of the opportunities accorded to shooting in the open. When at length the bird is brought to bag it repre- sents a toiling through brush and bramble, wooded hill and dale, scrambling over ledges and floundering through swamps, all colored by constant expectancy, unavoidably lost opportunities, and seeking to circum- vent the birds by cunning woodcraft, supplemented by the powers of the dog—a degree of cunning, skill and persistent effort greater than that required in the shoot- ing of any other bird. It is shooting pitched in the highest key, and that is why I think the shooter can justly feel a greater glow of pleasure when he makes a successful shot at ruffed grouse, and why he loves this sport above all others, since it tests to the utmost his skill, his wood- craft, his patience, his endurance and his dog; and of the dogs, if he owns a good one, he owns one of a thousand. SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 383 Many sportsmen will not agree with Mr. Waters’ be- lief that a ruffed grouse in the open is as easily brought to bag as a prairie chicken. They even declare that the ruffed grouse flies three times as fast as his pinnated cousin, and is at least twice as difficult to hit. In his recent volume on “Life and Sport on the North Shore of the St. Lawrence River,” Mr. Nap. A. Comeau says: “Ruffed grouse shooting in this section is not sport, and is not regarded as such by the residents, for the reason that neither the people nor the birds have been educated to it. I can count on less than the fingers of one hand all the men I know on this shore who will deliberately flush a grouse to shoot it on the wing. As for the birds themselves, unless they happen to be in an open spot, they will not fly any distance. In the woods, which are pretty dense here, when flushed they simply rise off the ground, perching in the nearest tree and stretching their necks to see you walking under them. If it happens that a covey is started they will frequently be all killed without any of the others around taking flight. Many a time when in the woods trap- ping we would not waste a shot on them, but simply go to work and cut down a small sapling, tie a noose or string at one end, slip it over their head and pull them off the branch. At other times, for amusement, we would go out with a bow and a blunt-headed arrow and whack them off the trees at twenty feet range, which is about the usual one that they are shot at here. “What a contrast to the educated ones! Some years 384 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING ago I received an invitation from C. Beatty, of Platts- burg, Lake Champlain, to go and have a few days of mixed shooting with him. It was late in September, but most of the leaves were still on the trees. The first day we had a grand duck shoot on Missisquoi Bay, and after that an outing for woodcock. The last day had been reserved for partridge and gray squirrels. We had breakfast at daylight and were off. We had not far to go to reach our ground—patches of hardwood trees with a good deal of underbrush. We soon heard some whirring off at our approach, but could not even get a glimpse of them. After a time I got a crossing shot at one, over fifty yards away, which I bagged, and that was the only bird we got. But we surely heard a dozen or more rising. I was simply astonished that such a bird could be so shy. When I came back here and told the natives about my experience, they thought I was pulling the long bow. I believe it will be many years before our birds get so highly educated.” DUSKY GROUSE SHOOTING To my mind, the most splendid of the many Ameri- can grouse is the dusky, or blue, grouse found in the Rocky Mountains, north to Alaska, and west, at vari- ous points, to the Pacific coast. To be sure, it is not as large as the sage grouse, yet it is a big bird, some- times weighing up to four pounds, and nearly two feet long. Its tender and delicate flesh is always good eating, and its habits of life, in underbrush and timber SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 385 along the mountain side, make it seem much more a bird for sport than the larger sage grouse, which is found on the dry, hot, open prairie. In these days, when cities, towns, villages and farms are scattered all over the range of the dusky grouse, there must be a multitude of men who follow this bird with dog and gun, and shoot it much as people in the Eastern States and the Mississippi Valley shoot the ruffed grouse; yet, curiously enough, we hear very little of killing this bird in a sportsmanlike manner. Shooting the dusky grouse before the broods are full grown, and when they are more or less scattered out to feed, is but tame sport. The birds lie like stones, and fly straight and easily, dropping at a touch of the shot. In September and October, when they are full grown, it is quite different, however. Then they are strong of wing and fairly well able to take care of themselves ; all the birds are large, and while they still present a fairly easy mark, they fly with great swift- ness, and from the situations in which they are often found the shooting calls for readiness and care. In the old days, when no one in the West thought of carrying a shotgun, it was often necessary to kill birds for food, and then the young broods of dusky grouse often gave one a little practice as they stalked ahead of one up the valley or stood on the branches of the trees of the mountain side. At a distance of twenty or thirty yards, provided one thoroughly knew his rifle, it was considered fair shooting to knock the heads off four out of five of these young birds. In- 386 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING evitably there was a miss now and then, when a walk- ing bird would unexpectedly stop, or would move ‘its head to one side just as the trigger was drawn; but as I say, we used to be able to cut the heads off four out of five. In the same way; when a brood of dusky grouse flew into a tree, and stood there unfrightened by the report of the rifle, a number of them could be secured, pains being taken always to shoot the lowest bird—in def- erence to an aged tradition—in order that others might not be alarmed by a fluttering body falling close to them. One of the best morning shootings that I ever had at dusky grouse was in northwestern Montana, on one of the high benches that overlook the St. Mary’s Lakes. It was a rounded knoll—an old lateral mo- raine—a mile or two long, once overgrown by aspens, which had been killed by fire and had now fallen and rotted. A new growth of aspens, just starting, reached only about up to the knee. Among these little aspens grew huckleberries, and the ground was more or less carpeted with the vines of the bearberry—the smoking weed called “larbe,” perhaps a corruption of the trap- per French word Iherbe. On these berries several broods of grouse were feeding, and after camp had been made near the upper end of the knoll I took my shotgun and walked back over the ground where sev- eral birds had been started. It was not long before, with a thunderous roar, a full-grown bird rose but a few yards before me, and, *ureyUNOW 9} Uo asnory A¥SnG — a = SETS = SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 387 scaling off on the fresh breeze that was blowing down the lakes, was thirty or forty yards off before the heel- plate touched my shoulder. Luckily, I held on the bird, and the center of the load hit it so that it fell quite dead. At the report two more rose near me, and this time I brought my gun to bear a little more quickly, and killed the second one. Two or three more rose at this report and flew down the lake, but they did not fly the whole length of the knoll, and I marked them down. It was evident that if this lasted I was going to have good shooting, and so it proved. I went on, more slowly and carefully, and tried to pick my shots. As I had no dog, only the birds immediately in my way got up, except that sometimes, when a shot was fired, several rose ahead or to the right and left, and most of these pitched off down the hill, and, scaling off on the wind, reached cover in the thick aspens of the lower ground, where I knew it would be useless to follow them. Before I had reached the lower end of the knoll I had more birds than I could carry, and I was not sorry to see my companion coming after me on horseback to relieve mc of the load. The shooting that he had heard had notified him of the sport that I was having, and he rightly concluded that I would need help. I was interested to notice, as he came toward me, that he put up a number of grouse, though his route was not far from the one I had followed. When we had tied our birds on his horse it was 388 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING found that I had already ten, which I estimated to aver- age not far from three pounds apiece in weight. Just at the end of the knoll, and as we were about to turn back to go to camp, a grouse jumped up before me, at the foot of a clump of aspens, and dived into them, precisely as a ruffed grouse would pitch into a piece of underbrush. Just as I should have snapped at a ruffed grouse, so I snapped at this bird, and a moment later a loud splash in the water, and a muffled drum- ming, told that the shot had reached him just as he was about to cross the river. My companion went down, and riding out into the water, picked up the eleventh bird. A little later, on the way home, another grouse sprang from some low aspens at some distance in front of me and pitched into a growth of pines, and this one I snapped at, again, but not with the success of the former shot, for the bird passed through the pines and flew a long way to a little island, where he seemed to go down. : If I had had a dog and a good shooting pony I could undoubtedly have killed forty or fifty birds in this one place; but forty or fifty would have been in- excusable slaughter, since there were but two of us in the camp, and we could not have used anything like that number of birds. As it was, those that I got that day lasted us for quite a long time, and most delicious food they were. The white, juicy flesh, sweet, and well flavored from the diet of berries on which the bird had been fed, was most delicate. Properly cooked, no SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 389 bird is worthy of higher commendation than the dusky grouse. This is especially true when the birds on the lower plateaus are feeding on the tiny red huckle- berry that grows in such profusion in the pine woods. While the females are down in the lower ground, attending to nest building, hatching, and the rearing of their young, the old males and the barren females resort to the higher land, often being found on the mountain sides far above timber line. From such places they are often startled by the goat or sheep hunter, and pitching down from these great heights take long flights, at last bringing up down among the timber, and flying so far that no one knows just exactly where they go. Nowhere, so far as my limited experience goes, is the dusky grouse pursued in so systematic and sports- manlike a manner as on Vancouver Island, near the beautiful city of Victoria. My shooting of them there dates back many years, and it may be that in recent years the sportsmen of other parts of the Pacific coast have taken to shooting this splendid bird over dogs, as in old times they did near Victoria. What good shooting there was at Victoria twenty- five years ago, and how varied the bags used to be! There were the pheasants rising like an explosion of fireworks, sometimes from under your very feet, and seeming—after you had ineffectively fired both bar- rels in the air in your fright—to wave at you in de- rision long brown tails that you almost felt you could grasp by reaching out the hand. There were blue 390 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING grouse, big, and straight flying, getting up with a roar, and almost at once plunging into the dense thicket. There were ruffed grouse, simple birds, that you some- times saw walking about on the ground not far from your feet, but ready enough, after they had been pointed by the dog and kicked out from their hiding place, to practice all the arts that their cousins use three thousand miles away. Then, finally, there were the California quail, big flocks of them, more often heard running through the underbrush than seen, yet sometimes rising in thick flocks and darting off like little blue bullets through the timber. It was here that, in company with two or three Vic- toria sportsmen, I first saw dogs used on the blue grouse; not always with success, for two wild young puppies, blundering excitedly through the underbrush and the heavy green forest, flushed the birds, some of which took refuge in the branches of the tall cedars or Douglas firs, quite out of reach of the shotgun. There was one old white setter, however, which re- garded the younger dogs not at all, but trotted method- ically through the forest in businesslike fashion. To him and to his owner I attached myself, and during the day had the opportunity to see him point half a dozen birds in most workmanlike style. The grouse lay well, and did not run ahead of the dog, as an edu- cated ruffed grouse would have done. At the same time, when flushed, the birds displayed wonderful quickness in putting some object between themselves and the gun; though in this case, as there were two SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 391 guns, the stratagem was not always successful. No great amount of wisdom was required to circumvent these birds. They had not been subjected to the con- stant pursuit suffered by the ever persecuted ruffed grouse of our eastern covers, and did not resort to his puzzling devices. They afforded great sport, but the shooting was very destructive to the birds. On the other hand, the thick cover which prevailed over much of the forest did not permit following up the birds, and if not secured on the first rise they were not seen again. : No doubt at the present time the dusky grouse are frequently shot over dogs in the Rocky Mountains. Any dog which had been broken on ruffed grouse would be serviceable also in finding its larger relative. Yet as the dusky grouse has been, until recently, altogether without education in this respect, the extreme caution needed in a dog used for ruffed grouse shooting would scarcely be required for the dusky grouse. It would be interesting to know whether, in modern days, the ruffed grouse, or the dusky grouse of the north Pacific coast, had been sufficiently pursued to acquire a wisdom which men of the eastern part of the continent usually expect the ruffed grouse to possess. PTARMIGAN SHOOTING. Ptarmigan are never shot for sport, but only for food. Occasionally a few birds may be secured on the wing, but usually the ptarmigan is not found in situa- tions where the gunner is able to pursue it in a sports- manlike manner. Commonly he is traveling, is with- out a shotgun, and is thinking more of filling his pot for the night’s meal than of giving the bird a chance to escape. Practically the only exception to this rule is Newfoundland, where, under the name of partridge, the ptarmigan is commonly shot over dogs, and gives excellent sport. Mr. Comeau, in his “Life and Sport on the North Shore,” speaks most interestingly of the migrations of the willow ptarmigan, and tells of the extraordinary numbers of them that are killed. He says: “During the last two migrations, taking the best ‘years, 1895 and 1904, I took some trouble to try and find out, approximately, how many birds were killed between certain points. During the first year men- tioned, between Mingan and Godbout, 175 miles of coast, 30,000 were killed; in the second (1904), 14,000; and I am sure that during 1885 nearly 60,000 must have been shot or snared. When a flight begins, every man, woman and boy able to handle a gun is out. To avoid accidents, which are very rare, indeed, 392 “UBSUIV MOTTA PTARMIGAN SHOOTING 393 each gun occupies a certain point or station, and shoots at all the birds that pass or alight in his vicinity. The ladies keep watch for those that may alight near the houses. The bags vary, of course, according to the skill of the shooter and his method of shooting. If he is there for business he will take all the pot shots. He can frequently get five or six in one shot. I have seen fourteen killed in a single shot. A few will only shoot on the wing, but there are many days when the wing shooter comes out ahead. The biggest bag I ever made (it was-in 1885) shooting at flying birds was eighty-two brace in one morning. At Caribou Island, that winter, nets were tried, but they were not very successful, more being got by shooting. Indians frequently snare them by setting their snares around willow clumps where the birds feed. It is a very sim- ple arrangement.